Crazzy Plays

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[jupiterpilgrim]

Business Babes

word count: 18K

Enami Asa x Huh Yunjin x Jeon Somi x Lee Chaeyoung x Ning Yizhuo x Yeh Shuhua x m!reader

You've been sitting here for three or maybe four hours. You're not sure anymore. The numbers on your laptop stopped making sense a long time ago, but you're finally close to finishing your review for Tuesday's exam.

At some point over the years, this corner of the library basically became your spot. Your territory. Nobody ever comes back here. Seriously, nobody. You could probably disappear into this corner for weeks and they'd only notice sometime next winter.

The shelves are packed with dusty reference books nobody's touched since, apparently, 2011. The closest outlet had been hidden behind a filing cabinet you literally had to drag aside yourself.

It's the perfect place for the absolute silence studying requires. Completely forgotten by society.

Nothing bad could possibly happen here.

Then two hands suddenly cover your eyes from behind, and before you can react, a soft, sugary voice drifts right beside your ear, "Guess who."

...

Well.

Looks like your territory's been invaded.

Soft skin. Slim fingers. Cool against your temples. You reach up, thumb brushing across her knuckles. Small hands. Smooth skin. Expensive perfume. "Gotta be the janitor," you say. "Pretty sure we're moving way too fast, though."

The hands pull back immediately. Then a tiny offended noise. Footsteps around the table.

"Ha. Ha. You're sooo funny, nerd. I like you already.”

Enami Asa steps into your line of sight and every coherent thought you had about thermodynamic equilibrium just evaporates. She's wearing all black. Cropped top, short skirt, boots that go halfway up her calves. Red lipstick that makes ignoring her full lips completely impossible. Her black hair falls straight past her shoulders and she's looking at you with this amused little tilt of her head.

You blink hard and rub your eyes. Enami Asa: one of the most beautiful girls on campus. Right there, in the dead zone of the university library. Staring at you. What the fuck is happening?

"You know you're insanely hard to find, right?" she says, placing her backpack on the table before dropping into the chair across from you. She crosses her legs and leans back, eyes drifting over the dusty shelves. "Do you always hide out back here? I literally did two full laps around the building.”

"I was studying," you say, closing your laptop halfway. "Can I help you with something?"

She grins. Not in a nice way.

And you're not dumb. You get it. You've spent enough time here to understand how the whole social hierarchy thing works. Girls like Asa don't go looking for guys like you in some forgotten library corner unless they want something. Notes. Homework help. A study guide. Some favor they can cash in with a cute smile and forget about a few hours later.

"You can, actually," she says. "In fact, you might be the only person who can help me right now."

"That's a bold statement."

"I'm a bold girl," she says, adjusting in her seat until she's comfortable. Then she casually drops, like this is the most normal topic ever, "So there's this challenge going around on Twitter."

"X."

"Eat shit, it's literally the same app." She waves you off. "Anyway. It's trending right now. Me and my friends got into it too. Sort of a competition, I guess. NSFW stuff.”

Your pen stops moving.

"Oh…"

"Yeah." Now she's fully studying your face, looking way too entertained by the horror slowly spreading across it. "The idea's simple. You record yourself getting facefucked, upload it, get some likes, drive more people to your OF. Then gooners start ranking clips and arguing in the comments over which one's best. It's become this whole thing. Hashtags and all.”

You look left. You look right. You check behind you to make sure nobody has a camera pointed at this table. "Are you serious right now?" you ask.

"Of course I'm serious," she says, sounding almost offended. "Why the hell would I walk all the way to the ass end of this library and say that kind of shit to a guy like you if I wasn't serious?"

"I genuinely don't know. It's just... a pretty strange request."

"Don't be scared. Be flattered."

"I am neither of those things." You lean back in your chair. "Look, there are like ten thousand guys at this school. You literally have a different one on your arm every week. Go ask one of them."

Asa shakes her head. Just one slow motion. "Nah. Can't do that. We set a rule that every one of us has to find a different guy for the video." She leans back a little. "Has to be a nerd. Someone who'd normally have zero chance with any of us. That's the whole trend."

You stare at her for a few long seconds. "Damn, Asa. Really appreciate you putting me in the 'absolutely no shot' category.”

She laughs, loud enough that it echoes through the shelves and instantly makes you paranoid someone nearby heard the conversation. "Don't take it like that. Seriously. It's not even an insult. Think of it as charity." Her head tilts slightly. "Besides..." Her eyes narrow a little as she looks at you. "You've actually got something going on. Nerd glasses, messy hair… It's kinda cute."

"Amazing. Please engrave that on my grave."

"Stop being so dramatic."

"No. That's my final answer," you say immediately. "Find another victim.”

Asa gets to her feet. Then she does something that completely fries your remaining brain cells. She circles the table at an annoyingly calm pace and sits right in your lap. Just... casually. Her arm drapes over your shoulder while she gives you this ridiculous pout.

"Pleeease?" she says, all soft and sweet. "It'll take like five minutes. Nobody comes back here anyway. You've been hiding in this corner for hours and not one person walked past." She adjusts herself slightly. “I just need you to lend your cock and hold the phone. That's it."

You blink at her. "I can't believe this trend actually exists."

"Oh, it exists.” She already has her phone out. She pulls it from her skirt pocket and drops back onto your lap, scrolling lazily. “See? Hashtag RuinThePrettyFace. It blew up like four days ago.”

She holds the phone inches from your face. One clip after another. Smudged eyeliner. Sloppy expressions. Girls posing for the camera after getting absolutely wrecked. Your eyebrows climb higher with every swipe. Then she opens her own profile. Asa’s account is basically curated nude photography. Soft lighting. artsy filters. Careful angles. Nude after nude after nude.

“Hold on. This is your account?”

“My NSFW alt, yeah.” She shrugs. “Got twelve thousand followers. So?”

"No. Never.”

"Why not?"

"Because I have dignity. And you should try having some too. What you're describing is slutty."

She pulls back just enough to look you dead in the eyes. Zero shame. Zero hesitation. "But I am a slut," she says simply. "So that argument doesn't really work on me. Please," she repeats. "I'll do anything."

"Anything?”

"Anything." A pause. Then she laughs, catching herself. "Well. I can't exactly offer you sex as a reward because that's basically what's already going to happen. So that's off the table as a bargaining chip." She taps her chin, pretending to think. "Buuut you'll have my gratitude. My eternal, undying gratitude!”

"And what the fuck am I supposed to do with your gratitude?"

"I don't know, maybe shove it up your ass and stop playing hard to get?!" She hops off your lap and does a little spin in the aisle between shelves, arms out, letting you look. She stops facing you, one hand on her hip. "Look at me," she demands. "I'm hot. I'm perfect. Any guy on this campus would sell a kidney to be sitting where you're sitting right now. And you're telling me no? Be so fucking for real, dude.”

You rub your temples. "You're actually insane."

"Maybe. But I'm also not leaving until you say yes. I'll sit here all night. I'll follow you to your car. I'll show up at your next class. I will make this so much worse for you if you keep being difficult."

"That's called harassment."

"Call campus security then. Tell them Enami Asa won't stop asking you to let her suck your dick. See how much sympathy you get."

You let out a long breath through your nose. She's got you cornered and she knows it. You can see it all over her pretty face already, that smug little grin spreading because she's realized she's winning.

"Fuck me..." you mutter.

"Is that a yes?!"

You close your laptop with a soft click. Pinch the bridge of your nose beneath your glasses. Then you look up at her. At the ridiculously gorgeous girl standing between rows of dusty shelves in that little black outfit, red lips, and absolutely zero sense of shame. You make a decision that's either going to haunt you forever or randomly hit you at age eighty and make you smile. "Fine. Make it quick.”

Asa actually lights up. She bounces on her heels and claps once before she can stop herself. "Yes! Okay! Perfect!" She grins at you. "You seriously won't regret this.”

"I already regret this." She starts to lower herself to her knees right there, but you raise a hand and she freezes. "Wait," you say. "Can we at least make out a little first? Just to, you know… set the mood. I can't just go from thermodynamics to getting my dick sucked with no transition."

She stares at you for a second before rolling her eyes so hard it's honestly impressive.

"Oh my god." A sigh. "Fine. Sure. Whatever you need."

She comes back and sits on your lap again, this time facing you fully, her knees on either side of your thighs in the library chair. Your hands find her waist on pure instinct, settling on the strip of bare skin between her top and her skirt. She's warm. Unbelievably warm.

"You're unfairly hot, by the way. I'm having a hard time believing this is a real situation right now."

"I know," she says immediately, completely shameless. Her hands slide onto your shoulders. "Now enough with the compliments. Kiss me.”

You kiss her. It starts slow because you're still half convinced this is an elaborate prank and someone's going to jump out from behind the reference section with a camera. But Asa's lips are soft and she tastes like mint and whatever that expensive lipstick is made of, and your brain stops looking for the trap pretty quickly. Your hands settle on her waist, thumbs pressing into the narrow strip of bare skin above her skirt. She's tiny under your palms. You can almost feel her ribs.

She's good at this. Obviously she's good at this. Her tongue finds yours and she tilts her head just right, and there's this little sound that comes out of her, this quiet, pleased hum against your mouth that makes your fingers tighten on her waist without you meaning to. She shifts on your lap, pressing closer, and her hands slide from your shoulders to the back of your neck.

You're getting into it. Really getting into it. Your hand starts to drift up her side and she makes another sound, breathier this time, and you can feel the vibration of it through her whole body. Then she turns her head, breaking the kiss, and her palm lands flat on your chest. "Okay, okay. Enough."

"What?"

"I said enough." She wipes the corner of her mouth with her pinky finger, checking for smudges. "You're going to ruin my lipstick before we even start. My makeup needs to get destroyed on camera, not during the warm up."

"You have very specific priorities."

"I have excellent priorities." She rolls her hips once on your lap, settling her weight, and then goes completely still. You watch her expression shift. Her eyes drop down between your bodies, then come back up to your face. "Well," she says, and there's something new in the way she's looking at you. "I think we can start."

She picks up her phone from the table, slides off your lap, and drops to her knees on the library carpet. She taps the screen a few times, opens the camera app, and holds the phone out to you. "Here. You're filming."

You take it. "Vertical or horizontal?"

“Of course it’s vertical. This is Twitter content, not cinema.”

You angle the phone. She reaches for your belt. Her fingers work the buckle loose, then the button, then the zipper, and she's efficient about it, tugging your jeans down your thighs with a little help from you lifting your hips. Your boxers are still on. The outline of you through the fabric is, well… it's pretty obvious.

Asa pauses. Her hands don't move, still resting at your waistband, but her eyes do. They settle on the bulge and stay there.

"Huh?'' she mutters.

Then she pulls your boxers down. Your cock springs free and bobs once, heavy and thick, settling against your lower stomach. The shaft is fat, veiny, flushed. In the dim lighting of the library corner, it looks even bigger than usual, and Asa is just kneeling there, looking at it, her hands frozen in midair. "Wow," she says quietly. Then, louder, like she's trying to convince herself as much as you. "Okay. This might be harder than I imagined."

You look down at her. "You can always give up."

Her head snaps up. The shock on her face converts instantly to pure, offended determination. "Excuse me? You think I'm afraid of a big cock? Are you seriously sitting there telling Enami Asa to give up?"

"I'm just saying."

"Don't underestimate me." She wraps her fingers around the base and the tips barely meet her thumb. She stares at that for a second, jaw flexing, then shakes it off. "Okay. Here's how this works. I'm going to suck your dick first. Get it nice and wet, do my thing. Then when I tap your thigh twice, like this," she demonstrates, two quick pats on your leg, "that's your signal. That means you can start fucking my face. Got it?" You nod. "Use one hand for the phone, one hand on the back of my head. And keep the angle tight on my face. This isn't about you, this is about me looking good."

"And then looking bad."

"And then looking incredible while looking bad." She adjusts her position on her knees, straightens her back, flips her hair over one shoulder. "You can start recording."

You hit the red button. The timer starts counting in the corner of the screen.

The shift is immediate. Asa was already pretty, already the kind of person who pulled attention without trying, but the second the camera goes live, something changes. Something clicks into place. Her posture straightens slightly. Her chin lifts. A slow smile pulls at her lips. Suddenly she isn't looking at you anymore. She's looking at the lens. Looking at the people on the other side of it. The ones who'll watch this alone in bed at some stupid hour of the night.

And just like that, she's performing.

She leans forward and presses her lips to the tip of your cock. Just a kiss. The red lipstick leaves a faint mark on your skin and she pulls back to admire it, still smiling at the camera. Then her tongue comes out, flat and pink, and she drags it across the head in one slow pass. Another kiss, this time on the underside, right where the shaft meets the ridge. She's teasing. Taking her time. Making sure the camera catches every angle of her pretty face against your thick cock.

She licks a long stripe from the base to the tip, her dark eyes locked on the lens the entire time. Then another. Then she swirls her tongue around the head, slow and wet, collecting the precum that's already beading at the slit. She holds it on her tongue for a beat, letting the camera see it, then swallows and licks her lips clean.

She opens her mouth and takes you in. The feeling is insane. Her mouth is hot and tight and her tongue does this thing where it presses flat against the underside of your shaft as she sinks down, creating this slick pressure that makes your toes curl in your shoes. She takes about half of you on the first pass, which given the girth is genuinely impressive, and her cheeks hollow as she pulls back up.

And she looks so fucking beautiful doing it. Enami Asa, on her knees on the library floor, with her black outfit and her red lipstick and her sharp little face stuffed full of your cock. The visual is so absurd, so completely disconnected from everything your life has been up to this point, that you almost forget to keep the phone steady.

She sucks you with purpose. Bobbing her head in a steady rhythm, taking a little more each time, letting the spit build up until it's coating your shaft in a slick layer. She pulls off with a wet sound and spits on your cock, a thick string that drips down the length, and then her fist wraps around you and pumps, spreading it, twisting at the head. She jacks you off with both hands for a few strokes, watching the way your cock throbs in her grip, and then she's back on it, hungrier this time.

You can feel her jaw stretching around you. Can see the effort in the way her brow furrows slightly, the way her throat works as she tries to accommodate the width. But she doesn't stop. Doesn't slow down. She finds her rhythm and sticks with it, her head moving in smooth, controlled bobs, her lips sealed tight, her tongue working the underside.

She pulls off just long enough to glance up at you. Not at the camera this time. At you.

"You better be getting my good side," she murmurs, her fist still pumping slowly.

"You're kind of busy to be giving direction."

"I'm always giving direction." She licks the tip once more, then sinks back down.

A minute passes. The wet sounds of her mouth on you fill the quiet corner of the library, obscenely loud in the silence. Spit drips from her chin onto her black top. Her lipstick is starting to smear, red bleeding past the edges of her lips, staining your shaft in uneven rings.

Then you feel it. Two quick taps on your thigh. She takes you back into her mouth, both hands dropping to rest on your knees, and tilts her head up so the camera can catch her full face. Her eyes are glassy. Her lips are swollen. She looks up at you through her lashes and gives the smallest nod.

You adjust the phone in your right hand, making sure the frame is tight on her face. Then your left hand slides to the back of her head, fingers threading through her dark hair, and you grip.

Your fingers tighten in her hair. You guide her head forward, slow, feeling the resistance of her throat as your cock pushes deeper than she was taking it on her own. Asa's hands grip your knees and her jaw stretches wide, lips pulling taut around your girth. She gags once, a tight spasm at the back of her throat, and you pull her back. She gasps, spit connecting her lower lip to your shaft in a thin strand, and before she can fully recover you push her down again.

The rhythm is careful at first. You're testing how much she can handle, reading the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers flex against your legs. Each push goes a little deeper. Each pull gives her just enough time to suck in a quick breath before you feed her your cock again. The wet sounds are filthy in the silence of the library. Every gag, every slick glide of her lips echoes off the bookshelves.

Asa's brow creases. She's concentrating, trying to relax her throat, but the girth keeps catching her. You can feel it, the involuntary tightening each time the thickest part of your shaft hits the back of her mouth. Her eyes water. Not crying, just the reflexive response of her body fighting what her brain has decided it's going to do. She breathes hard through her nose, hot bursts against your pelvis, and pushes through.

You set a pace. Your hand guides her head in smooth bobs, your hips rolling up to meet her on the downstroke. Spit builds and spills from the corners of her mouth, running down her chin in messy lines. The red lipstick is wrecked now, smeared in wide streaks across her cheeks and along your shaft, leaving your cock painted in uneven bands of crimson. Her mascara holds for a while, longer than you'd expect, but the constant watering finally wins and dark smudges start bleeding beneath her lower lashes.

She pulls off your cock abruptly, gasping, a thick rope of saliva stretching from her lips to your head before snapping and landing on her chin. She coughs once, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing the lipstick further. Her eyes are glassy and red rimmed when she looks up at you.

"How is it," she asks between breaths. "How do I look?"

You angle the phone down at her, making sure the frame catches everything. The ruined lipstick, the mascara tracking down her cheeks, the spit glistening on her chin and neck, the way her usually perfect hair is sticking to the damp skin of her forehead.

"Beautiful," you say. "Completely ruined. You look incredible."

"Good," she says. "That's the point." She opens her mouth and takes you back in, and this time you don't start slow. Your grip tightens in her hair and you thrust up into her mouth with real intent, your hips snapping, the back of her throat meeting your cock on every stroke. Asa groans around you, the sound vibrating through your entire shaft, and her hands fly to your thighs for balance.

The pace is punishing now. Her head bobs in your grip, guided by your hand, and the sounds coming from her mouth are obscene. Wet, choked, guttural. Drool pours freely, coating your balls, dripping onto the carpet between her knees. Her black top is spotted with dark wet patches. She gags hard on a deep thrust and you hold her there for a second, your cock buried to the hilt, her nose pressed against your pelvis, feeling her throat convulse around you before you let her up.

She pulls back just far enough to breathe, her lips still brushing the head, and looks up at you with those ruined, watery eyes.

"Fuck," she pants. "This cock is so thick. I can barely fit it in my mouth." She jacks you with one hand, spit making the motion effortless, her small fingers unable to close around the circumference. "How does a little nerd end up with something like this? It's not fair."

"Genetics," you manage.

"Shut up." She licks a flat stripe up the underside, collecting the mess of spit and precum. "I'm serious, this thing is fat. My jaw is going to be sore for a week." She presses her lips to the head, almost affectionately, then opens wide and takes you deep again.

You fuck her face harder. The library is dead quiet except for the relentless, sloppy rhythm of your cock in her throat. Asa has given up trying to look composed. Her eyes are squeezed shut, tears cutting clean tracks through her smudged mascara. Her cheeks are flushed pink beneath the mess of ruined makeup. Spit and drool coat her entire chin, dripping in long strings onto her chest. She looks nothing like the sharp, immaculate girl who sat down across from you twenty minutes ago.

She looks better.

Your balls tighten. The pressure that's been building low in your stomach pulls into a hard knot and you feel the edge approaching fast. Asa must feel it too, the way your cock swells, the way your grip shifts in her hair, because her eyes open and lock onto yours. She doesn't pull back. She grabs your hip with one hand and pulls you deeper, taking your cock into her throat until her lips stretch around the base, and holds herself there.

You cum. The first shot fires directly into her throat and Asa's eyes go wide. You can see the muscles in her neck working, trying to swallow around the sudden flood. Your cock pulses again, a second thick load, then a third, each one making her throat bob as she struggles to keep up. It's a lot. More than she expected, clearly, because her eyes start to water fresh and you can hear this strained, gurgling sound as she tries to swallow without pulling off.

She manages. Barely. Her throat works overtime, gulping, swallowing, her fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to leave marks. Some of it escapes, a thick white trail leaking from the corner of her sealed lips, running down her chin, dripping onto her collarbone. She stays on you through the last few pulses, her throat milking every drop, until you finally stop throbbing and your grip in her hair loosens.

Asa pulls off slowly. Your cock slides from between her lips with a slick, heavy sound, and she sits back on her heels, breathing hard.

Her face is destroyed. The red lipstick exists only in faint, smeared traces across her cheeks and chin. Her mascara has bled into dark streaks that reach almost to her jawline. Her eyes are bloodshot, rimmed in red, lashes clumped together with moisture. Drool and cum coat her chin, her neck, the front of her top. Her hair is tangled and damp where your fingers gripped it.

She looks at the camera and smiles. This wide, satisfied, absolutely filthy smile, cum still glistening on her lower lip. She holds the look for a few seconds, letting the camera drink it in.

You stop recording. The timer reads eleven minutes and forty seven seconds. Your thumb hits the red button and the screen freezes on the last frame. Asa on her knees, wrecked, smiling. "How'd it turn out," she asks, her speech slightly hoarse. She reaches for the water bottle on the table and takes a long drink.

You scroll back through the footage, skimming. "Pretty good, actually. You have a genuine talent for this."

"I have a talent for most things." She holds her hand out. "Let me see." You pass her the phone and she watches sections of the clip, scrubbing through with her thumb, pausing on certain moments. Her expression is clinical now, analytical. She's reviewing footage, not reliving the experience.

"When are you posting it," you ask, pulling your boxers back up, getting your jeans situated.

"Probably tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. I still need to throw the video into Premiere and polish the edit a bit.”

"...You're editing blowjob footage in Premiere. Okay, sure. I don't know why I'm still surprised."

"Well yeah?" She looks at you like you're the weird one. "The lighting back here was awful. I need to fix the exposure, warm up the colors a little, cut out the dead space at the beginning..." She swipes through the footage. "Probably clean up the framing too. Blur anything that points back to you. Add captions… I'm not uploading raw footage. Be serious.”

You stare at her. "Is all that really necessary? It's a blowjob video, not a short film."

"It is absolutely necessary. You can't just upload raw footage like some amateur. Quality matters. Presentation matters. This is going on my page, and my page has an aesthetic."

She puts the phone down, reaches for her backpack on the table, and pulls out a small face towel and a compact mirror. She flips the mirror open and examines her reflection, tilting her head side to side, cataloguing the damage. Then she starts cleaning up, wiping the mascara streaks, the spit, the residue from her chin and neck.

"Thank you, by the way," she says, not looking up from the mirror. "Your dick is really nice. Genuinely. It looked great in the video. The size contrast between me and that thing is pretty hot."

"Thank you. I guess."

"You're welcome. I guess." She mimics your tone without missing a beat, still dabbing at her face. "You can leave now. I need to finish putting myself back together and I can't do that with you watching me."

You gather your laptop, your notes, your pens. Everything goes into your backpack. You zip it shut and stand up, pushing the chair back under the table. "Hey. One thing."

"What."

"Change my voice in the video. Pitch it up or down, whatever. Just alter it enough that nobody can identify me."

She waves dismissively. "Already planned on it. I'll run it through a filter. I'm a pro at this stuff." She meets your eyes in the mirror's reflection. "Now bye."

"Bye, Asa." You sling your backpack over your shoulder and walk out of the dead zone of the library, past the dusty reference shelves, back toward the main floor where normal people are doing normal things. The late afternoon sun hits you through the library's front windows as you push through the doors. Fresh air fills your lungs. You adjust your glasses, fix your hair, and start walking toward the parking lot.

It was a little degrading. You're aware of that. You just let a girl you barely know use you for content, boss you around, and treat you like a prop in her social media strategy. That part stings, a bit, if you think about it too hard.

On the other hand, it was also one of the best orgasms of your life. So maybe sitting with it too long isn't necessary.

—

The girls have officially taken over the theater lobby.

Ning’s holding a popcorn bucket almost as big as she is, carefully picking out the best coated pieces first. Shuhua has already loaded up on candy and a slushie. Yunjin’s in the middle of debating the water bottle policy with the cashier. Somi’s texting someone nonstop. Chaeyoung is fully invested in the ingredients list on a candy box for reasons nobody understands. Asa is standing slightly apart from the group, examining her nails.

“Has anyone recorded it yet?" Ning asks, popping a kernel into her mouth. "The challenge, I mean. I haven't even picked a guy."

General murmurs of negation ripple through the group. Shuhua shakes her head. Yunjin is still fighting the cashier. Somi doesn't look up from her phone. Chaeyoung quietly puts the candy box back on the shelf.

"I have," Asa says.

Every head turns.

"Already?" Shuhua's eyes go wide. "It's been like two days since we agreed on this."

"It was this afternoon, actually." Asa inspects a cuticle with surgical focus. "I finished about four hours ago."

Ning abandons her popcorn curation entirely. "Send it. Right now. Group chat."

"Absolutely not. I haven't finished editing. The raw footage needs color correction, the audio is unbalanced, and I want to add text overlays for the—"

"Oh my god, just send the raw version,” Ning groans.

"No. You'll see it when it's ready."

Shuhua leans in, lowering her tone even though nobody else in the lobby is paying attention. "Is it someone from our college?"

"Yes."

"Someone we know?"

Asa lets out a short laugh. “Absolutely not. He’s literally just some random library guy. Total loser. But Jesus Christ, his dick is huge. Like, weirdly huge. I was not mentally prepared for that at all.” Ning's eyebrows climb her forehead. "It was fucking hard to handle," Asa continues, touching her throat absently. "My throat still hurts a little, honestly. The girth on that thing was insane."

"The quiet ones always pack," Yunjin offers, having apparently won her water bottle argument. She rejoins the group with the confidence of a courtroom victor. "It's like a rule of the universe."

Chaeyoung has been quiet this whole time, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. She clears her throat softly. "I've been thinking, and I might not do the challenge. I don't think I can just walk up to some random guy and ask him to, you know. I'd rather die."

Somi finally looks up from her phone. She crosses the gap between them in two long strides and puts her hand on Chaeyoung's shoulder. Firm. Decisive. "You're not backing out," Somi tells her. "I won't allow it."

"But I literally cannot approach a stranger and say those things to his face. I would combust."

"Then don't. You're recording with me. We'll do it as a duo."

Chaeyoung blinks. "Wait, really?"

Yunjin nods encouragingly. "If you want, we can help you find someone too. I know a few guys in my econ lecture who would probably pass out if you looked at them."

Somi cuts her off. "No need. I already have someone picked out. Chae records with me, I handle the talking, she just needs to show up and look pretty." She squeezes Chaeyoung's shoulder. "Easy."

Relief floods Chaeyoung's face. "Okay. If we're doing it together, then yeah. I'm in. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Just bring lip gloss and a hair tie."

Asa tilts her head, considering the arrangement. "A duo is smart, actually. The contrast will look really good on camera. Two girls, one cock. The timeline will eat that up."

"It's going to be so hot," Ning agrees, pulling out her phone to check the trending hashtag.

Armed with popcorn, candy, and oversized drinks, the six of them file into the theater. They talk about the movie previews, assignments, dumb campus gossip. As if they’re not all going into this week with the exact same goal: finding someone with a nice dick.

—

The next day arrives. You're walking through the main corridor on the second floor, laptop bag over your shoulder, earbuds in, heading toward your next lecture. The hallway is busy. Students moving between classes, conversations overlapping, the usual controlled chaos of midday foot traffic.

"Hey, you!"

You don't react. That shout belongs to someone else's life.

"Hey! I'm talking to you! Glasses!"

Still probably not you. Lots of people wear glasses. You keep walking. Fast footsteps come up behind you, then a manicured hand lands on your shoulder and whips you around surprisingly hard.

Jeon Somi stands in front of you.

Blonde hair spilling over her shoulders in soft waves. A designer jacket thrown over a top that’s doing absolutely nothing to hide her massive breasts. Long legs wrapped in fitted jeans. Sharp cheekbones, light brown eyes, and a look that feels dangerously close to a threat.

“Are you deaf?” she asks bluntly.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize you were talking to me. People don’t usually yell at me in hallways.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Her gaze drags over you from head to toe, quick but thorough, leaving you feeling weirdly inspected. “You’re coming with me.”

“Where? Why?”

She doesn't answer. She grabs your hand and starts walking. Not beside you. Ahead of you. Pulling you behind her like a rolling suitcase. Her grip is strong and her strides are long and you have to half jog to keep up without tripping. People notice immediately. Heads turn. Conversations pause. You catch students doing double takes as you pass. Two guys from your programming class nearly short-circuit when they see Jeon Somi towing you down the hall.

And yeah, you get why. Everyone knows who she is. The leaked nude scandal last semester made sure of that. So did the endless rumors afterward, the guys she’s been seen with, the stories people tell about her like she’s some campus celebrity. Someone like her choosing someone like you feels fundamentally wrong to everyone watching.

By tomorrow, half the school is probably going to know your name too.

Somi takes you up a stairwell. First floor, second floor, third floor. Down a corridor that gets progressively emptier. Past classrooms that are clearly in use, then past ones that aren't. The fluorescent lights up here flicker intermittently. One of the ceiling tiles has a water stain shaped like Florida.

"Somi. What do you want so badly that you had to physically drag me across the building."

"It's just a favor," she says over her shoulder.

And there it is. That word again. Favor. The exact same word Asa used yesterday at your table in the library, right before she dropped the most insane proposition you’d ever heard in your life. Suddenly the pieces line up perfectly in your head. They know each other. Asa and Somi. Same friend group. Same social circle. Same weird fucking challenge.

Yesterday it was Asa. Today it’s Somi.

You stop walking and pull your hand free from her grip. She turns around, annoyed, "What?!"

"This is about that challenge. The Twitter thing."

Somi stares at you for a beat. "You know about it?"

"I'm familiar, yeah."

"Great. So I don't need to waste time explaining." She folds her arms under her chest, drawing your attention exactly where she probably expects it to go. “Are you in?”

"Why me specifically?"

"Because you're the most pathetic looking guy on this campus." She says it without a shred of hesitation or remorse. "But you're also decent enough that I wouldn't gag just from touching your dick. That's a narrow window, and congratulations, you fit through it."

"That's the worst compliment anyone has ever given me."

"It wasn't a compliment." The two of you are standing outside a classroom at the very end of the corridor. A laminated sign taped to the door reads CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE.

"This is where you picked," you say, looking at the sign. "A room that's closed for maintenance."

"Nobody will come in here. It's been shut for two weeks."

"A ceiling panel could literally fall on our heads."

"It's not going to." She pushes the handle and the door swings open. "Stop making excuses and get in."

You step into the classroom. The room is dim, lit only by thin strips of sunlight slipping through the blinds along the far wall. Desks have been shoved aside in crooked rows, and dust drifts lazily through the light. Half-erased equations still cover the whiteboard, leftovers from whatever class used this room last. And at the front of the room, perched casually on the professor’s desk, is a girl you’ve seen around campus but never spoken to. She has a pretty, sculpted face, big round eyes and dark hair with faint highlights catching the light. She's wearing an oversized cream colored sweater and a plaid skirt; the whole look makes her seem way too cozy and cute for a place this depressing.

She sneezes violently out of nowhere.

“Somi!” she groans, rubbing at her nose. “This room is disgusting. I’ve been here fifteen minutes and I’m pretty sure I’ve developed lung disease.”

"Stop being dramatic, Chae. A little dust never killed anyone." She closes the door behind you and strides further into the room. She motions between you and the girl on the desk like she’s hosting introductions at some awkward social event. “This is the guy I was talking about. Nerd boy, meet Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung, meet nerd boy.”

Chaeyoung hops down from the desk, landing lightly on her sneakers. She’s almost the same height as Somi, though Somi still has a couple inches on her. "I've seen you around before," she says. "You're usually in the library, right? Or sitting by the fountain near the engineering building."

"Yeah, that's my usual orbit."

"We've never actually spoken, though." She extends her hand. "I'm Chaeyoung. Lee Chaeyoung."

You shake it. Her grip is gentle, her palm warm. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

Finally, you think. Someone with basic social skills and a functioning sense of decency. You glance between the two of them. They're both wearing a noticeable amount of makeup. Chaeyoung has this soft, glowy look, peachy tones and delicate details. Somi went heavier. Contoured cheekbones, defined brows, lips glossed to a mirror finish. They look like they're ready for a photoshoot, not a afternoon on the third floor of a building with water stained ceiling tiles.

"Great," Somi announces, clapping her hands once. "Now that we all know each other and we've done the little handshake thing, let's record."

You lean against one of the pushed aside desks. "Can I ask what the point of this is? Genuinely. What do either of you gain from recording this?"

"Likes," Somi says immediately. "Followers. Engagement. Clout. Take your pick."

"And that's worth it?"

"We don't care what you think. It's none of your business what we do with the video." She crosses her arms. "You're here to provide a service. That's it."

Chaeyoung shifts her weight, tugging at the cuff of her oversized sweater. "I almost gave up on the whole thing, honestly. I know it's kind of crazy. Like, objectively, this is insane behavior."

"It is insane behavior," you confirm.

"But she's here now," Somi cuts in, putting her arm around Chaeyoung's shoulders. "And she is not backing down. Right, Chae?"

"Right. Yeah. I'm here. I'm doing it."

Somi turns her attention back to you, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Speaking of which. Your dick. Is it at least big? Because I swear to god, if I dragged you up three flights of stairs and you pull out a micropenis, I will be furious."

"It's decent."

"Decent, huh? That's exactly what guys say when they have a tiny cock. Every single time. 'It's decent.' 'It gets the job done.' And then you pull their pants down and it's like finding a AA battery in a sock."

"That's a very specific image. Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

"Don't test me right now."

Chaeyoung steps forward, putting herself slightly between you and Somi. "Can you stop being so mean to him? He's already doing us a favor by agreeing to this. The least you can do is be civil."

Somi rolls her eyes with her entire body. Her head tilts back, her shoulders drop, her hands fly up. "Please. Look at him, Chae. Look at this guy. He has never received a blowjob in his life. We are going to be the first people to ever touch his dick. He should be on his knees thanking us for the privilege."

"That's not true," you say. "I've had sex before."

"Sure you have."

"I'm serious. I actually got a blowjob yesterday."

Both of them look at you. Chaeyoung with genuine curiosity. Somi with theatrical disbelief. "Oh, really?" Somi takes a step closer, tilting her head. "Who gave you a blowjob yesterday? Name and surname, please."

The name almost leaves your mouth. It sits right there on the tip of your tongue, ready to go. And for a split second you consider it, because telling Somi that her friend already used you for this exact challenge would probably create enough chaos to shut this whole thing down. Asa mentioned that every girl had to pick a different guy. If Somi finds out she's not the first, that Asa already had you, she'd lose her mind.

Better to keep that card in your back pocket.

"It's personal," you say.

Somi stares at you for two full seconds, then turns to Chaeyoung. "See? Obvious lie. He panicked and couldn't even make up a name." She points at a chair near the center of the room. "Now sit over there."

You grab your backpack, drop it in the corner by the door, and sit in the chair she indicated. It's one of those standard classroom chairs with the little desk arm attached, but you push the arm out of the way and settle in. Somi is already moving around the room, scouting angles. She finds a spot on a shelf near the whiteboard, props her phone against a stack of old textbooks, and adjusts the lean until she's satisfied with the frame.

"The phone stays here,” she explains, tapping the screen. “It'll get both of us in the shot."

"Professional setup,” you say.

"I don't do amateur." She walks back toward you, Chaeyoung falling into step beside her. "Here's how this works. It's simple. The goal is for us to get facefucked until our makeup is ruined. That's the whole point of the trend. Cute face goes in, wrecked face comes out. So you need to not cum in thirty seconds like some premature disaster. Hold it together until our makeup is properly smudged. Can you manage that?"

"I think I can handle it," you say.

Somi raises an eyebrow. "You think?"

"... I'll handle it," you correct.

She nods once and starts heading toward the phone to hit record, but you lift a hand.

"Wait. One thing."

She stops and turns. "What now?"

"Can you show me your tits? Just... help me out a little. Get things moving."

The look she gives you is lethal. You're genuinely not sure if she's about to slap you or walk out. "You're such a pervert."

"You're about to do all this for Twitter likes. I don't think I'm the only pervert in this room.”

Chaeyoung lets out a laugh, immediately stifled behind her hand. Somi shoots her a look and Chaeyoung straightens her face, pressing her lips together.

"Fine," Somi mutters, then reaches back and taps the record button on her phone. She walks back over to you, stops right in front of your chair, and shrugs off her jacket with way more force than necessary, tossing it onto the floor. Then, without hesitation, she grabs the hem of her top and pulls it over her head in one smooth motion. She'd been going braless this whole time.

And her breasts are genuinely, absurdly large. Full and round on her narrow frame, heavy enough to bounce slightly from the motion of pulling her top off. Her skin is smooth, even toned, her nipples a soft pink against the pale expanse.

She stands there with her hands on her hips, topless and defiant. "Happy now, pervert?"

Chaeyoung is pulling at the collar of her cream sweater, fanning herself. "God, it really is hot in here. No ventilation at all." She tugs the sweater over her head and folds it neatly, setting it on a desk. Underneath she's wearing a simple white bra. Her chest is small, barely filling the cups, her collarbones delicate and pronounced above the band.

The contrast is staggering. Somi's huge, bare breasts next to Chaeyoung's petite frame in her little white bra. The tall, aggressive blonde towering over the soft, nervous brunette. Both of them in front of you, half undressed, in a locked classroom on the third floor of a building nobody visits.

Your cock is hard. Fully, uncomfortably hard, straining against the front of your jeans. There's no hiding it and you don't try. "Okay," Somi says, her eyes dropping to your lap for a fraction of a second. "Let's begin."

She kneels in front of the chair. Chaeyoung follows, settling on her knees to Somi's right. Somi's hands go to your belt, her long fingers working the buckle with efficiency. She yanks your jeans down your thighs with both hands, and your boxers come with them. She doesn't bother with the slow reveal. She pulls everything to your ankles in one sharp tug and your cock springs free, slapping against your stomach, thick and fully hard.

Somi stops. Her hands are still on the bunched fabric at your knees. Her eyes are locked on your cock. Her lips part, just slightly, and you watch her throat move as she swallows. "What the fuck," she mutters.

Chaeyoung, kneeling beside her, has gone completely still. Her mouth is open. Her eyes are wide. She's staring at your cock the way people stare at car accidents. Unable to look away, unable to process what she's seeing.

"Okay, that's..." She cuts herself off and stares for another second. "No. Hold on… That is actually the biggest dick I've ever seen in my entire life." She looks back up at you. "I'm being serious.”

Somi recovers. She flips her hair over one shoulder and wraps her fingers around the base. They don't close. Her fingertips fall about a centimeter short of her thumb.

"Well," she says, tone forcibly casual. "At least you won't embarrass us in the video."

"That's all you have to say?" Chaeyoung is still gaping. "Somi, look at this thing."

"I'm looking at it. I'm literally holding it. Stop acting like you've never seen a cock."

"Not one like this."

Somi starts stroking. Slow, tight pulls from base to tip, her grip adjusting to accommodate the girth. Her palm is slick with nothing but her own sweat and it's not enough, so she leans forward and spits. A thick, glossy string that lands on the shaft and she spreads it with her fist, twisting on the upstroke. Chaeyoung reaches out tentatively and wraps her smaller hand around the shaft just below Somi's. Her fingers look even more inadequate against the thickness. She strokes in tandem, following Somi's rhythm, and you can see the fascination on her face. She's studying your cock like it's a specimen, tilting her head, watching the way the veins pulse under her fingers.

"I literally do not know how I'm going to fit this in my mouth," Chaeyoung says quietly.

"The harder it is to take, the hotter it'll look on camera," Somi says, pumping steadily. "Trust me. You're gonna look amazing struggling with it. Just try not to throw up on his cock. I'm not doing another take because your gag reflex decided to betray us."

Chaeyoung immediately scrunches up her face. "Ew. Why would you even say that?"

"Because I'm thinking ahead.”

You lean back in the chair, watching both of their hands work your shaft. "Somi, quick suggestion: instead of talking about vomit, maybe switch gears and give me a titjob. Feels a lot more productive.”

Somi's head snaps up. "Who do you think you are? Asking me for a titjob? This isn't about your pleasure, this is about our content. You have no rights here. You're a prop."

Chaeyoung glances between you and Somi. "Actually, that would look really good on camera,” you explain.

"Excuse me?"

"Think about it," you say, keeping your tone light, reasonable. "Your tits wrapped around my cock, all wet and shiny with spit. Glistening in the light. That's premium content. The timeline would lose their minds."

"God, fine!” Somi snaps. "But only because it'll look good. Not because you asked." She shifts forward on her knees, positioning herself between your legs. She grabs your cock and angles it straight up, then presses her breasts together around the shaft.

The visual is pornographic: your thick cock disappearing into the soft, warm valley of her massive tits, the head poking out from the top of her cleavage on every upstroke. "Chae, spit on it," she orders.

Chaeyoung leans in and spits on the head of your cock, a neat string that drips down the shaft and into Somi's cleavage. Somi starts moving, sliding her breasts up and down, using her hands to press them tight around you. The friction is insane. Warm and slick and pillowy, her soft skin squeezing your girth from both sides.

She finds her rhythm, bouncing her tits on your cock with smooth rolls of her torso. More spit from Chaeyoung. More from Somi herself, leaning down to drool on your shaft before pressing it back between her breasts. The saliva mixes with the thin sheen of sweat building on her skin, and soon her entire chest is glistening, your cock sliding effortlessly through the slick channel.

"There," Somi says, watching the head of your cock emerge from her cleavage on each upstroke. "Happy now?"

"Extremely."

"Enjoy it. This is the only titjob you'll ever get from these." She works you for another minute, her breasts bouncing and jiggling with each motion, wet and gleaming in the dusty light filtering through the blinds. Your cock throbs between them, flushed and leaking, leaving trails of precum that mix with the saliva coating her skin. Eventually Somi pulls back, her breasts separating from your shaft with a slick sound.

"Okay. Enough warmup. Time for the real thing." She grabs your cock and angles it toward her face. "Don't go easy on me. I can handle whatever you've got."

You put your hand on the back of her head. Blonde hair, silky and thick between your fingers. You pull her forward and your cock slides past her glossy lips, stretching them wide. Somi takes half of you on the first push, her jaw straining around the girth, and you feel her throat clench as you hit the back of her mouth. You pull back, then push again, deeper. Her eyes water but she doesn't flinch. She grabs your thighs and braces herself, and you start fucking her face with real momentum.

Somi is aggressive even when she's the one being used. She pushes back against your thrusts, trying to take more, making these low grunting sounds in her throat every time you bottom out. Spit builds fast, coating your shaft in thick, frothy ropes that drip from her chin onto her bare chest. Her lipgloss is the first casualty, smearing in wide, shiny streaks across her cheeks and along your cock.

You pull out and she gasps, spit hanging from her lower lip in long strings. "Harder," she demands. "Come on, nerd. That's all you've got?"

You grab a fistful of her hair and shove her back down. Harder this time. Faster. The slapping of her lips meeting your pelvis fills the classroom, wet and rhythmic and obscene. Her mascara starts to run. Dark streaks bleeding from the corners of her eyes, tracking down her cheekbones. Her contour, her foundation, all of it softening and smudging under the assault of spit and tears.

You pull out of Somi's mouth and angle your cock toward Chaeyoung. She's been kneeling beside Somi this whole time, watching with flushed cheeks and parted lips, her hands resting on her thighs. "Your turn," you say.

Chaeyoung takes a breath and opens her mouth. You guide yourself in gently, slower than you did with Somi. Her lips stretch around the head and she whimpers, high and soft, her brow creasing as the girth fills her mouth. You push in a few inches and feel her gag, her throat tightening, her hands flying to your hips.

You stop. Let her adjust. She breathes through her nose, her eyes squeezed shut, and then nods slightly. You push again, easing into a shallow rhythm, just the first half of your shaft sliding between her stretched lips. She's struggling. Her jaw isn't built for this. But she's trying, god is she trying, her tongue working the underside of your cock, her lips sealed tight despite the strain.

"Relax your throat," Somi coaches from beside her. "Stop fighting it. Let him in." Chaeyoung adjusts her angle, tilting her chin up, and on the next stroke you slide an inch deeper. She gags again but pushes through it, her fingers gripping your thighs, her eyes watering. The peachy blush on her cheeks is bleeding, her subtle eye makeup starting to track.

You alternate. A minute in Somi's mouth, rough and fast, her mascara running in black rivers while she glares up at you with those defiant eyes. Then a minute in Chaeyoung's, slower, gentler, watching her struggle and adapt and gradually take more of you. Between rounds, they lick your cock together. Somi on one side, Chaeyoung on the other, their tongues meeting at the tip in a messy, overlapping tangle. Chaeyoung giggles when their lips brush. Somi pretends she doesn't notice.

Somi grabs the back of Chaeyoung's head suddenly, fingers tangling in her dark hair, and pushes her down on your cock.

"Deeper," Somi orders. "Don't be a pussy about it. Take it." Chaeyoung's eyes go wide and she gags hard as your cock hits the back of her throat, but Somi holds her there, keeps her down. You feel Chaeyoung's throat spasm around the head of your cock and her fingers dig into your thighs. Somi eases up after a few seconds and Chaeyoung pulls off gasping, a thick web of spit connecting her lips to your shaft.

"See?" Somi says. "You can take it. You just needed a push."

"You're crazy," Chaeyoung breathes. But she's smiling.

She leans back in, licking along the shaft, and takes you into her mouth again on her own terms. Deeper. More confident. Her eyes find yours and stay there, glassy and adoring. Then Somi pushes Chaeyoung aside and swallows your cock to the base. All of it. Her nose pressing into your pelvis, her throat bulging, her eyes rolling back for just a second before she catches herself. She holds you there, breathing through her nose in sharp bursts, then pulls off and jacks you with both hands.

"Fuck," Somi mutters, staring at your cock. "Why does your stupid dick feel so good in my throat." She says it like she's genuinely annoyed about it.

You fuck her face until her foundation is gone entirely, until the careful contour is just a memory and her cheeks are flushed and raw and wet with tears and spit. You fuck Chaeyoung's face until her peachy blush is smeared sideways and her mascara has bled into dark smudges beneath her lashes. They take turns. They share. They kiss each other around the head of your cock, their ruined lips meeting in sloppy, wet passes, tasting each other and tasting you.

The pressure in your stomach is winding tight. The balls deep thrusts into Somi's willing throat, the sweet suction of Chaeyoung's eager mouth, the visual of two beautiful, wrecked girls on their knees fighting over your cock. You won't last.

"I'm close," you tell them.

Somi pulls off immediately, gripping the base of your cock with one hand. "On our faces. Stand up."

You stand. Your legs are shaky but you manage. Somi and Chaeyoung press their cheeks together, kneeling side by side in front of you, looking up. You stroke your cock over their faces. Fast, tight pulls, your fist slick with the accumulated spit of both their mouths. Somi's hand comes up and wraps around yours, helping you pump, her eyes locked on the head of your cock inches from her face.

And then you cum. The first shot catches Somi across the bridge of her nose and her right cheek, a thick white rope that clings to her skin and starts to drip. She flinches and then holds still, jaw clenched, taking it. The second hits her forehead and tracks into her hairline. The third you aim at Chaeyoung, a long, heavy streak from her eyebrow down across her cheek to the corner of her open mouth. She gasps, her tongue darting out to catch what landed on her lips, and she moans.

More. A fourth shot across Chaeyoung's nose, landing on Somi's cheek where their faces are pressed together. A fifth that paints Chaeyoung's chin in a thick, dripping coat. A sixth, weaker, that drips from the tip of your cock onto Somi's chest, landing between her glistening breasts.

Chaeyoung is glowing, cum splattered across her flushed face and dripping down to her collarbone. She's smiling like she means it. Genuine and gorgeous. She licks the mess off her lips and laughs, breathless and bubbly, like getting painted with your load is the highlight of her day.

Somi wipes cum out of her right eye and stares at the evidence stringing between her fingers. "Okay," she admits, chest still heaving. "That was pretty fucking hot.”

She stands, crosses to the shelf where her phone is propped, and brings it close to their faces. She angles the screen so the camera captures both of them in tight frame. Glazed, ruined, beautiful. "Say goodbye," Somi tells Chaeyoung.

Chaeyoung waves at the lens with her fingers, cum still webbed between them. Then Somi turns Chaeyoung's face toward hers and kisses her. Soft, brief, their cum smeared lips pressing together and pulling apart with a slick sound. Both of them grinning when it's done.

"That turned out great," she announces, scrubbing through the footage. "The angle caught everything. The titjob, both of us choking, the facial, the kiss. This is premium content."

Chaeyoung wipes her cheek with the back of her hand and looks at you. "Thank you. Seriously. That was actually really fun."

"Anytime," you say, pulling your boxers and jeans back up.

Somi goes to her bag, pulling out wet wipes and a compact mirror. She starts cleaning her face with brisk, efficient motions, checking her reflection between each pass. Chaeyoung walks up to you while Somi is distracted. She's still got traces of cum on her jaw and she doesn't seem to care. She pulls out her phone.

"Can you follow me on Insta? I'd love to chat sometime. Outside of, you know, this whole situation."

You take out your phone. She tells you her handle and you type it in. Her page loads. Aesthetic photos, cute selfies, pictures of coffee and cats. You hit follow.

"I'll text you tonight," she promises. "For real. Not just saying that."

"I believe you."

Somi's reflection catches Chaeyoung in the mirror. "Chae, you know you're way too pretty for him, right? You could do so much better."

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes. "Don't listen to her. She's like that with literally every person on the planet."

"I'm used to the type," you say.

Somi snaps her compact shut. "Okay, we're done here. You can leave now. We don't need you anymore. Go study or whatever it is you do."

You grab your backpack from the corner, sling it over your shoulder. Chaeyoung gives you a little wave, her fingers wiggling, that warm smile still on her face. You wave back.

"Bye, nerd," Somi calls without looking up from her phone.

You push through the heavy door and step into the empty hallway, adjusting your glasses and shifting your backpack as you start toward the stairs. Behind you, through the closed door, you can still hear Chaeyoung complaining about the dust.

Two days. Two separate encounters. Two groups of gorgeous girls actively searching for you because of the same completely insane Twitter challenge. At this point, you're not even questioning it anymore.

This is very quickly becoming the best week of your life. And, to be honest, you’re more than ready to see how much weirder it gets.

—

The lecture hall slowly empties around you while you're still shoving your laptop into your bag. Your phone vibrates against the desk. Instagram DM. Chaeyoung. Her name appears with the little sparkle emoji from her profile, and you catch yourself smiling.

hey! how was class? hope ur not dying of boredom 🥲

You type back as you walk into the corridor. The conversation flows easier than you expected. She tells you about her morning, complains about her statistics professor, asks what you're studying. You mention you've been into a sci fi book lately and it turns out she's read it twice. She sends a screenshot of her bookshelf and half the titles are ones you own. The exchange feels weirdly normal. Like she's a person, not the girl who was on her knees beside Somi yesterday with cum dripping off her chin.

Then a notification slides down from the top of your screen.

Instagram DM. Huh_Yunjin.

You stop walking in the middle of the hallway.

hey 🤍 you free rn?

You open the DM and instantly do what literally anyone would do. You tap her profile. Black and white profile pic. Dark lipstick. Looking unfairly good for no reason. Almost a million followers. Yeah. That tracks. You scroll a little. Pictures that somehow survive Instagram moderation by the smallest possible margin. Sheer tops. Suspicious camera angles. Captions written like ongoing jokes between her and her followers. A tiny link in her bio leads exactly where you'd expect.

You know what this is about. You'd have to be brain dead not to. You reply:

wyd?

wanna give you a little something. trust me, you’re not gonna regret it

where r u

the theater room. building C, the big one with the stage. place is empty rn. just me. come find me 😈

how do i know this isn't some prank

Typing dots. Gone. She gives up on whatever she was typing. Then an Instagram notification slides onto your screen.

Photo • View Once.

Yunjin is in front of a full length mirror backstage somewhere, phone angled to catch herself in profile. Her plaid skirt is bunched up around her hips. No panties. The curve of her ass is right there, the dip of her lower back, one hand lifting the fabric to show you everything. A cropped top that barely contains her. Heels. Her face turned slightly toward the camera with a smirk that says she does this kind of thing on Tuesdays for fun.

The photo disappears. A new message pops up almost immediately.

does that seriously look like a prank? been watching you for a while you're cute i'm interested. but hurry up. i'm not sitting here waiting all day

omw🏃

You shove your phone in your pocket and start walking faster.

Building C is across the quad. You take the path behind the library, the longer one, less foot traffic. Halfway there you stop and dig into the small zippered pocket of your backpack. A little plastic bag, sealed tight, three gummies left inside. Small, innocent looking, red and shaped like cartoon bears. You bought a whole bulk order after that stream went viral last year. The one with the two streamers who lost their minds on camera. You only tuned in because Hyeju was supposed to make a guest appearance, and you stayed because, well, the clips that came out of that night are still floating around the seedier corners of Twitter for a reason.

You pop one into your mouth and bite down. Sweet. Faint chemical aftertaste. You feel it start to dissolve under your tongue.

This thing is going to load your balls up like you've been edging for a week. The first time you tried one you came so much you genuinely thought something was wrong with you. Now you keep them around for special occasions, mostly solo sessions, but lately the universe has been throwing special occasions at you like it owes you back pay.

Four girls in three days. All from the same circle. This whole hot little clique of certified sluts is going through you like a relay race, and you're still undecided on whether that should hurt your pride or massively inflate your ego.

You push through the theater doors and lock them behind you with the inside latch. The auditorium is dark. Rows of empty seats descending toward the stage, which is lit warm and amber by the work lights overhead. You walk down the center aisle, your sneakers quiet on the carpet.

"Are you sure this is a safe place for this," you call out as you reach the stairs leading up to the stage.

A figure straightens up from behind one of the prop tables near the back of the stage. She steps into the warm pool of light, and yeah. Okay.

Yunjin in person is something else.

Tall. Legs that go forever, made even longer by the black heels strapped around her ankles. The plaid skirt from the photo, riding high on her thighs. A black crop top with thin straps, her stomach toned and bare, the slight curve of her chest visible underneath. Her hair is blonde. Freshly done, by the look of it, that bright platinum that catches every bit of stage light. Full pouty lips painted a glossy plum that's already smudged slightly at one corner. Sharp eyes. Mischief lives in them.

"My friend works here," she says, stopping a step away from you. "She runs lighting for the drama department. She told me the building is dead until evening rehearsal. We've got at least an hour, probably more." She looks you up and down, slow, taking inventory. "I'm glad you actually showed up."

"You called me."

"I did call you." She grins. "Not gonna do the whole introduction thing because everyone here knows who I am. Let's save the time. There's this Twitter challenge going around right now. Me and my girls all jumped on it. The premise is pretty simple. I need to get absolutely ruined on camera by a guy who looks exactly like you." Her hands come up and find the collar of your shirt, fingers playing with the fabric. "You're perfect for this," she tells you. "Glasses, the messy hair, the whole shy genius thing. I clocked you in the cafeteria last week. You were mumbling to yourself about some equation, and I thought, yeah. Him. Definitely him."

"I've heard about the challenge."

Her eyebrows lift. "Oh, really?"

"Word gets around." You hold her gaze. "I'm in."

"Smart boy." Her hand drops from your collar and slides down your chest, your stomach, and lands square on the front of your jeans. She squeezes lightly. "Oh, look at this. You're already hard. Is that for me?"

"That picture would make a dead man hard."

She laughs, head tipped back, her throat exposed. "Listen to you. I expected some stuttering little nerd, all sweaty palms and broken sentences. You're way more confident than I gave you credit for."

Your hands find her waist. She's warm under your palms, her skin smooth where your thumbs rest against her bare stomach. You let one hand slide down and around, palming the curve of her ass through the skirt. Squeezing. It's even better than the photo suggested. Thick and full and firm under your fingers.

"Mm." She presses into your hand. "Yeah, okay. You can definitely keep doing that." She squeezes your cock through your jeans again, harder this time, mapping out the shape of you. Her grin widens. "Wait. Hold on." She squeezes again. "What are you packing under here? This feels promising."

"You'll find out."

"I'm finding out right now, apparently." She leans her face close to yours, plum lips almost brushing your mouth. "This video is gonna be way better than I planned. I was expecting cute and mid. This is feeling more like cute and dangerous."

"I'll do my best."

"Yeah? Tell me what you're gonna do."

"I'm going to make you gag on it until you can't talk straight. I want to see you wrecked. Drooling on yourself. Huh Yunjin choking on my cock until your makeup is in your lap."

"Fuck yes. That's the energy." She closes the distance and kisses you.

She kisses like she's trying to eat you alive. Plum gloss smearing, tongue immediately in your mouth, both hands fisting the front of your shirt and pulling you against her. You back her up two steps until she hits the prop table behind her, and your hands are everywhere. Up her sides, palming the soft swell of her chest through that thin top, down to grab two handfuls of her ass and pull her tight against you. She rolls her hips into your bulge and groans into your mouth.

You make out for what feels like a while. Long enough that you're both breathing hard, her gloss completely gone from her lips and smudged across yours, her hair mussed where your fingers tangled in it. She pulls back, panting. "Okay. Okay, let's actually do this before I get carried away and just ride you in a folding chair." She steps out of your reach. "I'm gonna get undressed."

"All the way?"

"All the way." She's already reaching back to unzip the skirt. "If we're doing this, we're doing it properly. None of this half clothed business. I want my whole body in frame."

She undresses without an ounce of self consciousness. The skirt drops to the floor and she steps out of it. The crop top comes off over her head and her hair tumbles back down around her shoulders. Just heels left. She stands there in the warm stage light, completely bare, hands on her hips, watching you watch her.

She is staggering. Toned legs flowing up into thick thighs that gap at the top. Her ass round and full behind her. Her chest is small, soft, her nipples pierced with delicate silver bars catching the light. A subtle line of definition down her stomach. Her plum lips swollen from the kissing, her eye makeup still mostly intact, sharp and dark.

"Well," she says, doing a slow turn for you. "What's the verdict, professor?"

"You're perfect."

"Correct answer." She picks up her phone from the table, taps it into camera mode, and hands it to you. "Don't drop it. And try to keep me in frame, but don't worry about being artsy. The chaos is the point." She sinks down to her knees on the wooden stage floor, looking up at you. The amber lights catch her hair and turn it almost gold. She tilts her head, smirks, runs her tongue slowly along her lower lip. "Alright, babe. Let's see what we're working with."

Her hands settle on the front of your pants.

Yunjin’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants with an ease that makes it immediately clear this isn’t new territory for her. And definitely not the weirdest place she’s done it. She keeps looking up at you while she works the button open, her glossy lips curved in that teasing little smile, blonde hair falling over one shoulder as she tugs the zipper down.

“You’re trying so hard to look calm,” she says, amused, her knuckles brushing the hard outline of you through your underwear. “It’s cute. I can feel your dick jumping every time I touch you.”

“You’re naked on your knees in front of me,” you answer. “I’d be more worried if I looked calm.”

She laughs under her breath and pulls your pants down with your underwear in one smooth motion. Your cock springs out hard, heavy, already leaking precum from the kissing and the gummy spreading heat through your veins. Yunjin actually goes silent. You watch the reaction hit in stages. First surprise. Eyes widening. Taking a second look. Then comes the grin. Slow, filthy, pure excitement.

“Oh my god,” she says, sitting back on her heels. “No fucking way.”

You glance down at her, trying not to grin too much. “Still think I’m just cute and dorky?”

“Shut up, I’m processing.” She wraps one hand around the base, and her fingers don’t close all the way. That makes her smile wider. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. Quiet guys are always hiding something evil in their pants. This might be the biggest dick I’ve ever had in my mouth, and I’m not even saying that to boost your nerd ego.”

“That’s a pretty strong review.”

“I have experience. My review matters.” She strokes once, slow, her thumb dragging along the underside. “Jesus. It’s not even just long. It’s fat. Like, I’m gonna feel personally disrespected by my own jaw in ten minutes.”

She leans in and spits directly onto the head, letting the saliva slide down before she spreads it with her palm. Her hand moves over you with immediate ease, slicking you up, twisting around the ridge, cupping the head, rubbing the wetness down the shaft until your cock gleams under the stage lights. She watches the shine build with open appreciation.

“Pretty,” she murmurs, smiling to herself before lightly tapping your cock against her cheek. Once. Then again. Soft little smacks against skin. She tilts her head, looking way too pleased. “Jesus. Look at this thing.” Her grin widens. “This is absolutely gonna ruin me.”

She drags the underside over her lips, leaving a wet smear of saliva and precum across the plum gloss. Her mouth opens slightly, tongue slipping out to trace the swollen head. She gives you one slow lick, then kisses the tip like she’s flirting with it, her eyes staying locked on yours the whole time.

“You know what’s dangerous?” she says, rubbing your cock along her lower lip. “I can already tell I’m gonna be stupid about this. I’m supposed to make a cute little challenge video and go home, but this dick looks like it could ruin my plans for the week.”

“You’ve barely started.”

“I know. That’s the problem.” She opens her mouth wider and lets the head rest on her tongue. “I’m excited.” Then she takes you in.

The first slide into her mouth is hot, wet, and far too smooth for something that should be difficult. Her lips stretch around the girth, glossy and plush, sealing tight as she sinks lower. You feel her tongue flatten beneath you, guiding the shaft in a practiced line, easing the thickness over the middle of her tongue and toward the back of her throat. She doesn’t rush. She doesn’t panic. She makes room.

You swear under your breath when she takes more than half of you on the first try. Yunjin hums around your cock, pleased with the reaction, and pulls up slowly until only the head remains between her lips. Her cheeks hollow, suction tightening in a way that nearly makes your knees buckle. She swirls her tongue around the ridge, collects the slickness gathering there, then sinks down again, deeper this time, both hands on your thighs for balance.

Yeah, okay. She absolutely knows what she’s doing. There’s skill in the way she moves, not just enthusiasm. She angles her head to take the girth without scraping teeth. She uses her tongue constantly, dragging it along the underside, pressing into the sensitive strip beneath the head whenever she pulls back. Her lips never loosen. Every inch of you gets attention, and when she reaches the point where most girls would stop, she relaxes her jaw, breathes through her nose, and keeps going.

Your cock hits the back of her throat. She gags once, barely, more like her body acknowledging the size than refusing it. Her hands squeeze your thighs. Her eyes flutter, watery already, but she forces another inch down until her lips are close to the base. Then, with a slow, obscene determination, she swallows around you and noses against your pelvis.

“Fuck,” you say, because there isn’t anything smarter available in your brain.

She pulls off with a slick gasp, saliva stretching from her mouth to your cock before breaking across her chin. Her lips are swollen and wet, the plum gloss already smeared beyond repair. “See?” she says, breathing hard but grinning. “Made for it.”

“You weren’t exaggerating.”

“I never exaggerate about head. That’s sacred.” She strokes you in one hand while the other drops to your balls, cupping them with a reverence that surprises you. Her eyes lower. “Oh, these are heavy. What the hell are you feeding them?”

“Would you believe gummy bears?”

She looks up sharply, amused. “Don’t joke with me while I’m worshipping your balls.”

“I’m not joking.”

She studies your face for a second, then laughs. “You’re weird. I like it.” Her fingers roll your balls gently, feeling the weight, her tongue slipping out to lick along the base of your shaft. “These are going to make an insane mess of me, aren’t they?”

“That’s the plan.”

“That better be a promise.” She bends lower and takes one of your balls into her mouth, lips sealing around it, tongue moving with slow, wet attention. Her hand keeps stroking your cock while she sucks gently, then switches to the other, giving it the same treatment. The stage lights catch every trail of saliva on her chin, every smudge of makeup beginning to soften around her mouth. She looks completely at home like this, naked, kneeling, eyes bright with hunger.

“You have no idea how hot this is,” she says between kisses along your shaft. “Your cock is stupid big, your balls are full, and you look like you still think this is a weird dream you’re gonna wake up from.”

"It’s crossed my mind, yeah.”

“Don’t wake up. I’m not done being a slut for you.” She goes back down on you, more aggressive now. Her hand grips the base while her mouth works the upper half, fast and wet, tongue flicking, lips dragging, throat opening whenever she decides to take you deep. She alternates between worship and hunger, kissing your shaft, licking the veins, spitting on it again when she wants more slickness, rubbing the mess over you with her palm before swallowing you down.

Your phone stays in your hand, recording, the frame centered on her face. It catches everything. The way her lips stretch around you. The way her eyes lift to the lens whenever she takes you deep. The slow collapse of her makeup. Plum lipstick smeared across her chin, mascara damp at the corners, saliva slipping down her neck and onto the small rise of her chest.

She pulls off, panting, and slaps the head of your cock against her tongue twice before rubbing it over her lips. “I’m getting attached,” she says, almost accusatory. “That’s so unfair. You show up with this fat thing and expect me to act normal after?”

"You invited me."

"Yeah, and now this cock is mine. I'm calling dibs." She plants another wet kiss on the tip, then smiles up at you from below with spit running down her chin and eyes half-lidded from sheer arousal.

Yunjin leans in and swallows you deep again, this time she doesn't pull back when her throat tightens, the discomfort is part of the pleasure, swallowing repeatedly, forcing herself to adjust, her eyes watering harder, completely red now. You feel the muscles contracting around your cock, feel her body working to accept every inch. You watch as her thighs press together beneath her, the shine between them highlighted by the overhead stage lights when she shifts.

"Fuck, you're soaked," you groan.

She pulls off just enough to speak, lips still brushing the head. "Obviously I am. Do you have any idea what it's like having this monster prying my mouth open? My pussy's been dripping since I saw it." Her hand slides between her legs for one quick touch, collecting the proof of just how much of a slut she is, then she shows the wet shine on her fingers to the camera with a shameless smile.

"See? Your fault." She licks her own fingers making an obscene sound that makes your cock throb, then looks up at you. "Okay. I want it now."

"Want what?"

Her smile turns wicked. "Don't play dumb. Grab my hair and use my throat. I've been nice to your dick. Now ruin me for the video. Fuck my face, I know you're dying to do it."

"Alright, since you insist." Your free hand slides into her blonde hair, gripping close to the scalp. Yunjin opens her mouth immediately, tongue out, waiting, that look of a bitch in heat as deliberate as it is involuntary. You guide her forward and push your cock between her lips. Yunjin accepts the first thrust with a deep inhale through her nose, then braces her hands against your thighs.

You start hard right away. There's no need to build a rhythm when you already know what Huh Yunjin is capable of. Your thrusts are deep, each one pressing into her throat, nothing brutal yet but firm enough that her body has to be actively working to keep from gagging badly on your cock. Her eyes start watering again. Her lips stretch around you, swollen and slick. Saliva spills from the corners of her mouth almost immediately, pooling under her chin before dripping onto her chest.

Yunjin takes it beautifully.

The more you give her, the more alive she looks. She doesn't retreat from the roughness. She leans forward, seeking more force, gripping your thighs and letting you control the angle while she focuses on relaxing her throat around every thrust. A professional cocksucker, indeed. Your cock slides in and out of her mouth with wet sounds that echo louder and louder across the vastness of the theater, the camera catching her face coming undone in real time like a painting in the rain.

The lipstick is no longer neat, smeared across her cheeks and your shaft, purple and red streaks mixing with spit. Her mascara begins to run in thin lines, and when Yunjin looks up at you through wet lashes, you see genuine happiness stamped across her ruined face; it's beautiful to witness such raw passion in simply being the biggest slut on campus.

"Fuck, Yunjin," you say, driving deeper. "You really can take it."

She tries to answer around your cock and only manages a garbled, eager sound. Her hands go to your hips, pulling you forward — a clear signal for you to pick up the pace. So you fuck her mouth harder. Your hips slam into her face, your hand holding her in place, and every deep thrust makes her throat bulge and clench. She gags, recovers, takes it again. Tears spill freely now, cutting through the makeup on her cheeks. Drool runs down her neck in thick streams, sliding over her collarbone, dripping onto her small breasts and leaving glossy trails across her nipples.

You pull out to let her breathe. She inhales sharply, laughs, and spits a filthy string of saliva onto your cock.

"That's it. That's the clip. Holy shit, keep going. We're making history. My pussy is literally dripping onto the stage right now. How do I look?"

"You already look completely ruined," you tell her. "In other words: pretty fucking hot."

"Good. Make it worse then." Yunjin rubs her cheek against your shaft, nuzzling affectionately like she has genuine fondness for the thing destroying her face. "This cock is too fucking good. I hate that I found you through a trend. I should've hunted you down weeks ago. My bad."

You push back into her mouth, and she takes you with that same hunger. Now the rhythm is getting rougher and less careful, driven by the gummy bear's effect creeping through your bloodstream. Your balls feel heavy, too full, aching with all the pressure, and Yunjin notices. Her hand reaches down to cup them while you fuck her throat, squeezing gently, rolling them between her fingers.

The rhythm is partially interrupted when you see her thighs starting to tremble. You notice a full-body tremor rolling through her before she finally locks up completely. Both hands clench around you, fingers digging in, her throat contracts hard around your cock in thick, rhythmic pulses. She's cumming. Unironically, she's cumming right there on her knees with your cock buried in her throat, cumming just from having a cock in her mouth. Her eyes blow wide, then roll back until only the whites are visible, lashes fluttering as tears cut down her ruined face. Her whole body shudders and her hips jerks against nothing. You've never seen anything this hot in your life.

When you pull back to let Yunjin breathe again, you ask: "Holy fuck, d-did you just cum?"

She slumps forward with forehead pressing against your thigh, laughing in these ragged, wrecked little gasps. "I told you I was a slut." She tilts her face up and there's mascara smeared everywhere, along with spit, tears, and pure satisfaction. "Don't act so surprised." She drags the back of her hand across her chin and only smears it worse. "A cock like that shoved down my throat? Yeah. That's what happens."

"That's, like, really insane."

"That's talent, babe. Now put it back." You do, of course, and she gives herself over with even less restraint. The next stretch is messy beyond any salvation. She alternates between taking full-on facefucking and pulling you out to worship the head, tongue circling, lips sucking hard, hands pumping the base. The dirty talk pours out nonstop whenever her mouth is free because she simply can't contain herself, and you love that about her.

"This is mine now," she says, pumping you with both hands. "I'm serious. You don't get to walk around campus with this fat cock pretending it's public property. I found it, I choked on it, I came from it, so I have rights."

"Okay so you're making legal claims now?"

"Sexual claims. Way more serious." She kisses your tip, leaving a ruined smear of lipstick and spit. "You know, I'm going to think about this in class from now on. I'm going to be sitting there pretending to take notes while remembering how your cock stretched my throat open.”

Your orgasm starts building for real, low and heavy, dragged out by the gummy until it feels almost too intense. Yunjin senses the shift and pulls off, wrapping both hands around your cock. Her grip is slick, fast, frantic, using all the spit coating you. “You close?”

“Yeah.”

“On my face,” she says instantly. “All over it. Don’t waste a drop anywhere boring. I want to look disgusting.”

She jerks you harder, her hands sliding from base to tip in quick, wet strokes. Her ruined face is right below the head of your cock, eyes locked on you, mouth open, tongue visible between glossy lips. “Come on,” she urges. “Make me pretty. Paint this slutty face. I want it in my hair, on my lips, down my neck. Give me that huge nerd load. I know you’ve got it.”

The pressure snaps. The first jet hits her cheekbone hard, thick and white, streaking toward her ear. Yunjin gasps, delighted, and doesn’t stop stroking you. The second shoots across her forehead and into the roots of her blonde hair. The third lands over her nose and upper lip, splattering hot across the smeared makeup. She laughs, breathless and amazed, pumping you faster. “Holy fuck,” she says. “There’s so much.”

More comes. Another heavy rope spills over her open mouth, coating her tongue before sliding down her chin. She tilts your cock with one hand, aiming the next burst at her neck, and it paints a thick line down her throat. She drags the head lower, still milking you, and more cum spurts across her collarbone and small breasts, catching on her nipples and dripping toward her stomach.

It keeps going. The gummy turns the orgasm into something ridiculous, relentless, your cock pulsing over and over while Yunjin works every contraction out of you. She aims you back at her face for the final spurts, letting them splatter across her lips and jaw, adding more white to the ruined plum and black makeup already smeared everywhere.

By the time the last weak pulse drips from the tip, she is covered. Face, neck, chest, the top of her stomach. Cum clings to her lashes, streaks through her hair, sits thick on her lips. She stares down at herself, stunned for half a second, then bursts into laughter.

“Oh my god,” she says, genuinely amazed. “What are you, a fucking fire hose?”

You’re still catching your breath, phone aimed directly at her. The frame catches her kneeling there in the stage lights, naked and trembling, grinning through a mask of cum and destroyed makeup.

Yunjin lifts her chin toward the camera and smiles like she knows exactly how filthy she looks. She drags one finger through the cum on her cheek, brings it to her mouth, and tastes it slowly.

“Yummy,” she says, making sure the camera catches the way her tongue cleans her fingertip.

Then she pouts at the lens, exaggerated and sexy, lips glossy with your cum, eyes half lidded and sparkling with trouble. She holds the pose long enough to make the ending perfect.

You stop recording. For a moment, both of you just stand there in the afterglow of it, the empty theater silent around you except for Yunjin’s uneven breathing. She rises carefully, one hand finding the edge of the prop table to steady herself. Her knees shake a little, and she laughs again when she notices.

“That,” she says, pointing at you with a cum covered finger, “was the best blowjob, deep throat, facefucking situation I have ever been part of. And I’ve got an extensive resume.”

You pull your underwear and pants back up, still sensitive enough that even the fabric brushing you makes you wince. “Glad I ranked highly.”

“Highly? Babe, you broke the scale.” She looks down at the mess on her chest, then back at your jeans like she can still see through them. “I’m obsessed. That’s so annoying. I was supposed to film a hot clip, post it, brag in the group chat, and move on with my life. Now I’m standing here covered in your cum wondering if I can fit you into my schedule as a recurring problem.”

“That sounds flattering.”

“It’s extremely flattering. Don’t let it make you arrogant.” She bends down carefully, picking her clothes off the floor one by one. She doesn’t put anything on yet, probably because there is no clean way to do it while coated like this. “Are you free tonight?”

You pause with your belt half fastened. “Tonight?”

“Yeah. My place.”

“I thought you got what you needed.”

“With you?” She gives you a look that makes it very clear how stupid she thinks that sentence was. “No, babe. I have so many things I need to do with your dick that I should not start listing them, because if I do, I’ll get wet again and try to fuck you right here on this stage before the drama kids show up.”

You glance toward the backstage hallway. “How are you getting rid of all of that?”

“There are showers behind the dressing rooms.” She waves it off, completely unconcerned. “I’ve made bigger messes here during tech week. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re really inviting me over after this?”

“I’m not inviting. I’m claiming.” She steps closer, still naked, still streaked with cum, and taps a finger against your chest. “I’ll send you my address on IG. Come tonight. Bring that cock, bring the weird gummy thing if that’s part of your magic, and don’t make plans for tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be there,” you say.

“Good. And hey. Seriously. That was insane.”

“You were insane.”

“I know. That’s why people like me.” You hand her phone back. She checks the video quickly, scrubbing through the timeline with professional focus despite the fact that cum is still dripping from her chin onto her chest.

“Oh, this is disgusting,” she says happily. “Perfect. The lighting is hot, my face looks wrecked, your dick looks criminal. I might not even have to edit much. Maybe just cut the parts where I was yapping my ass off about being in love with your cock.”

“Glad the production value survived.”

“Barely. My dignity did not, but that wasn’t invited.” She heads toward the backstage showers with her clothes bundled in one arm, hips swaying, heels clicking lightly on the stage floor. Before disappearing behind the curtain, she turns back, still grinning. “Tonight,” she says. “Don’t make me chase you.”

You leave the stage feeling absurdly good about yourself. The theater doors shut behind you, and the hallway outside is empty, too normal for what just happened. Your legs are steady enough now, your breathing mostly back.

Four girls so far. Not that you're counting. Okay, maybe a little. Asa. Somi and Chaeyoung. Now Yunjin. Two more should still be out there somewhere. You head back toward the main campus mentally preparing for the next completely normal and not concerning interaction of the week.

—

The park looks stupidly nice today. One of those afternoons where the lighting is so good everything suddenly feels edited. Trees glowing, grass looking greener than usual, the whole thing straight out of a stock photo. Families on blankets. Dogs losing their minds over frisbees. People jogging. Just regular people doing regular Thursday stuff.

Shuhua walks beside Ning with a cherry popsicle in hand, somehow managing to eat it with impossible levels of grace. No sticky fingers. No drips. Every little movement neat and automatic, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth between bites. Her pale blue dress shifts softly around her ankles in the breeze, dark hair pinned back with a single clip. Between the sunlight and the whole effortless look she's got going on, she barely feels real.

Next to Shuhua, Ning looks like the opposite side of the same coin. Tiny shorts, cropped tank, dark hair down around her shoulders. The center part frames her face in a way that somehow makes her eyes stand out even more. People call her features feline all the time. Mostly because of her eyes. Sharp. Alert. Always tracking everything around her.

"Have you seen Yunjin's numbers?" Ning asks, scrolling her phone while walking, a skill she's perfected over years of content creation. "Forty thousand views in twelve hours. Forty thousand. And she barely edited. The color grading is flat and the audio peaks twice. Imagine if she'd actually put effort into post."

Shuhua takes another careful bite of her popsicle. "I thought her video was quite good, actually."

"It was fine. Asa's was better. The library setting, the composition, the slow buildup. That's how you do it." Ning locks her phone and slides it into her back pocket. "The point is, we're the only ones who haven't filmed yet. Somi and Chaeyoung posted theirs this morning. Asa posted yesterday. Yunjin went up last night. We're falling behind."

"It's not a race, Ning."

"Everything is a race when likes are involved." She glances sideways at Shuhua. "I can't afford to lose momentum. My account gained six hundred followers just from reposting Asa's clip with commentary. If I post my own content from the trend while it's still peaking, the engagement will be insane. But we need to find someone today."

Shuhua finishes the last bite of her popsicle and holds the bare stick between two fingers, looking around for a trash can. "I agree we should film soon. I've been thinking about it more than I expected, honestly. The idea is growing on me."

"Growing on you how?"

A faint blush spreads across Shuhua's cheeks, barely noticeable against her pale skin. She looks away for a second. "I'd rather not get into that in the middle of a public park.”

Ning grins. "That's all the elaboration I needed."

They round a bend in the path and that's when Shuhua spots you. Sitting on the grass under an oak tree, legs crossed, a paperback open in your lap. Earbuds in. Glasses catching the afternoon light. Completely oblivious to the world around you, which is your default state and, apparently, your most attractive quality. "I know him," Shuhua says, slowing her pace. "He's in my Wednesday seminar. Quiet. Sits in the back row. He's quite smart, from what I can tell."

Ning studies you with the detached precision of a photographer framing a shot. "I've seen him around too. Library, mostly. Always alone, always reading." She tilts her head. "He's got the look. The glasses, the messy hair, the whole unaware thing. The contrast would photograph beautifully."

They exchange a glance. Shuhua raises one eyebrow. Ning nods once.

"Together?" Shuhua asks.

"Together." Shuhua deposits her popsicle stick in a trash can along the path and the two of them walk across the grass toward you. Their shadows fall over your book before you register their presence. You pull one earbud out and look up.

Oh. Sure. The last two.

Ning shifts her weight onto one hip and studies you quietly. Not openly suspicious, not exactly friendly either. Up close, she's honestly more striking than her photos ever made her seem. You've seen her Instagram enough times to know that. There's something magnetic about her in person. The sharpness of her features. The unwavering eye contact. Like once she looks at you, looking away becomes your responsibility.

And then there's Shuhua. You keep trying to come up with a better word for it, but ethereal is annoyingly accurate. Pale skin glowing under the sunlight, big dark eyes, delicate features that somehow look even softer up close. She has her hands folded in front of her dress so neatly that she looks like she belongs at some afternoon tea party, not here near you.

It's incredible, genuinely, how you went from being invisible on this campus to being the gravitational center of the six hottest girls at the university. One week. Seven days of your previously unremarkable life, and suddenly you can't sit in a park without attracting beautiful women who want to use your cock for content.

"Have you heard of a Twitter trend called Ruin the Pretty Face?" Ning asks, skipping past any greeting.

"Yeah,” you say, closing your book. "It's gotten huge lately. Honestly kind of wild.”

"We want to record a video," Shuhua adds, her tone polite as ever, like she's asking you to proofread an essay. "With you. If you're willing."

You look around the park. Families. Dogs. Vendors selling popcorn and ice cream. A man flying a kite about thirty meters away. "Here? Right now?"

"Not here, obviously," Ning says. "I drove today. We can film in my car. Tinted windows, good camera, plenty of privacy."

"And both of you are recording this together."

"Yes," they say in unison.

You let that sink in for approximately half a second before your brain finishes its cost benefit analysis.

"Okay," you say, standing up and tucking the book under your arm. Shuhua falls into step beside you as the three of you start walking toward the parking area. Ning leads, phone already out, checking the light conditions, probably calculating optimal filming angles based on where her car is parked relative to the sun.

"Can I ask you something?" Shuhua asks gently. Her hands remain clasped as she walks, pale blue fabric shifting around her calves with every step.

"Go ahead."

"Has any girl ever approached you before asking for the same thing? For this challenge, I mean."

You don't hesitate. "No. You two are the first crazy ones to come up to me with something like this."

Shuhua nods, seemingly satisfied. "Good. I'd feel strange if we weren't the first. It would change the dynamic."

Ning glances back over her shoulder. "The dynamic's fine. Let's stay focused." The parking garage is only about a five minute walk from the park. Ning's SUV is parked on the second level, black with windows tinted dark enough to look at least a little suspicious. She unlocks it with her key fob and jerks her head toward the back door. "Get in the back.”

You climb in. The interior is clean, almost obsessively so. No fast food wrappers, no loose change, no clutter. Just a faint scent of clean air and leather. Shuhua slides in on your left, gathering her long dress around her legs with careful, ladylike precision. Ning gets in on your right, pulling the door shut with a solid thunk. The tinted windows turn the afternoon light dim and amber. You're sandwiched between them. Shuhua's thigh brushes yours through her linen dress. Ning's bare leg presses warm against your other side.

Ning reaches into a bag near the front seat and produces a compact makeup kit, the professional kind with multiple compartments and a lighted mirror. She flips it open and starts touching up her face, quick and efficient. Then she hands it to Shuhua, who applies a careful layer of lip tint and a fresh coat of mascara, checking her reflection from three different angles before she's satisfied.

"We'll record on my phone," Ning announces, then hands you the device. "Hold it. I want mobility in the shot. Don't shake it, keep us in frame, and don't film anything identifiable about the car."

"I can handle it." You barely stop yourself from smiling. She has no clue you've somehow ended up doing this three separate times in the same week. At this point you could probably run a masterclass on filming angles for horny Twitter content. "Trust me.”

"We'll see." Ning turns to face you more fully, one leg tucking beneath her on the seat. "And one more warning. You're cumming in my mouth. Tell us when you're about to blow, because I’m not letting you make a mess in my car. Understood? Now get that cock hard."

Two hands find your lap simultaneously. Ning's on the right, confident and direct, her fingers pressing against the growing shape beneath your jeans. Shuhua's on the left, lighter, more tentative, her touch exploratory as it traces the outline of you through the fabric.

Ning leans in first, kissing you without much hesitation. Her lips are cool and smooth, carrying the faint taste of gloss. A quiet hum leaves her before she pulls away again. Then Shuhua takes her place.

The shift is instant. Shuhua kisses more softly, more carefully, barely parting her lips at first. But her hand around your cock tightens slightly, betraying nerves or excitement. She still tastes faintly like cherry from the popsicle. When your tongue brushes against hers, her breathing catches and a small surprised sound slips out before she can stop it.

Then suddenly it's all three of you at once. Kisses overlapping, mouths brushing against mouths, everything blurring together into something messy and warm. For a few seconds it gets hard to tell where one kiss ends and another begins. Shuhua's perfectly composed expression slips just a little, her eyes growing heavy. And Ning's whole cool princess act cracks for a split second when you catch her lower lip between your teeth and a real reaction slips out before she can stop it.

"You kiss well for a nerd," Ning murmurs against the corner of your mouth. They keep kissing you. Both of them. Taking turns, sharing, their hands still stroking you through your jeans, until Shuhua's brow furrows, her hand stops moving on your lap and her fingers press down, tracing the shape more carefully. Her eyes widen.

"Your cock is actually fucking huge," she murmurs.

Ning's hand joins Shuhua's, both of them feeling you through the denim now, mapping out the length and thickness with growing disbelief. "Hmm, it's probably just the pants," Ning says, though her expression suggests she doesn't believe that for a second. "Let's check if that's actually the case."

Ning yanks your belt open with zero hesitation. She tugs your pants down your thighs, and you lift your hips so she can pull them past your knees. Your boxers go with them. Your cock springs free, half hard and swelling heavier by the second in the warm, close air of the car.

Ning just stares for a second. Her lips part slightly, eyebrows lifting before she can stop them, and for one brief, completely unguarded moment she looks genuinely caught off guard. Her hand comes up slowly, wraps around the shaft, and her fingers don't even come close to meeting. "Okay," she breathes. "This is going to be way better than I imagined."

Shuhua leans across your lap to see, her pale face inches from your cock, and her dark eyes go impossibly round. "That is the biggest dick I have ever seen. In my entire life. Holy shit."

Your cock's still a little sore, honestly. Yunjin kept you at her place until almost two in the morning. At some point you completely lost track of how many times she made you cum, how many positions she somehow folded herself into, or how many times she looked you dead in the eyes and told you your cock belonged to her now.

The gummy lasted way longer than the package claimed it would, and by the time you finally collapsed onto her couch, you were pretty sure your body had reached its limit. For the first time since this whole insane week started, you actually felt drained.

But you can find some more stamina. For Shuhua and Ning, you can dig deep.

Ning strokes you once, twice, feeling the girth, watching the way your cock thickens further under her touch. She glances at Shuhua with a grin spreading across her face. You lift the phone, frame the shot tight on both of them, and hit the red button. The timer starts counting in the corner of the screen.

Ning leans down and drags her tongue in a long, flat stripe from the base to the tip. Shuhua follows immediately, her tongue tracing the opposite side, and the two of them meet at the head with their mouths brushing against each other. Ning takes you in first, wrapping her lips around the crown and sinking down, taking as much of your girth as her small mouth can manage on the first pass. Her cheeks hollow and she pulls up slow, letting the camera catch the slick shine coating your shaft. "Your turn," she murmurs, and guides your cock toward Shuhua's mouth.

Shuhua parts her lips and takes you in gently. Her eyes flutter closed and a soft, quiet sound escapes her throat. She bobs her head in shallow, careful motions, her hand gripping the base where her mouth can't reach. She's tentative at first. Testing. Adjusting to the stretch of her jaw around something this thick. But she doesn't pull away. If anything, she sinks deeper, taking another inch, then another, her throat working around you.

"Good?" Ning asks, watching Shuhua's face with curiosity.

Shuhua pulls off just enough to speak, her lips still brushing the head. "Very good." She kisses the tip softly, then takes you back into her mouth with more confidence.

They trade off. Ning goes deep, sloppy and showy, letting spit pool and drip down her chin because she knows exactly how it looks on camera. She moans around your shaft, loud and performative, her dark eyes finding the phone lens and holding the gaze. Her tongue works the underside with practiced skill, and when she pulls off, thick strings of saliva connect her swollen lips to your cock. Shuhua takes over with a steadier, quieter intensity. She sucks you with focus, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. She discovers a rhythm that makes you twitch in her mouth and she stays there, repeating the motion, building on it. Her hand cups your balls, rolling them gently, and you hear her whimper against your shaft.

This looks like the kind of porn video you'd scroll past on your feed and immediately save. Two insanely beautiful women in the backseat of a car, heads in your lap, taking turns swallowing your cock while the afternoon light filters through tinted windows.

You decide it's time to step it up. Your free hand slides into Ning's dark hair and you push her head down. She takes it with a muffled sound of surprise that melts into a groan as your cock hits the back of her throat. You hold her there, feeling her throat constrict around you, then pull her back and push forward again. Fucking her face in slow, deep strokes. Her hands grip your thigh for balance and she opens her throat for you, letting you use her mouth however you want.

"Fuck yes," she gasps when you let her up for air. "Use me. Treat me like your slut." You push her back down and pick up the pace. Your hips roll up from the seat, driving your cock into her mouth while your hand controls the depth. Spit spills from the corners of her stretched lips, running down her chin, dripping onto her crop top. Her mascara starts to bleed at the corners of her eyes.

Then you switch. You pull Ning off and guide Shuhua down by the hair. She resists for half a second, startled by the rougher handling, then melts into it. You thrust into her mouth and she makes this sweet, overwhelmed sound, her eyes going wide and wet. You fuck her face slower than you did Ning's, giving her time to adjust, but you don't go easy. She doesn't want easy. You can tell from the way her hands keep drifting to her chest, squeezing her breasts lightly whenever she gets too worked up.

"Your dick feels so good in my mouth," Shuhua whispers when you give her a moment to breathe. Her usual elegance is slipping. Hair sticks to her lips, her cheeks are flushed, and every word sounds less put together than the last. "I didn't expect to enjoy it this much. It's so thick, it stretches my jaw so wide, and I just want to keep taking it."

"Then take it," you tell her, and she does. Shuhua sinks down on her own, swallowing as much of you as she can manage, and works her throat around you with a determination that borders on desperate.

You alternate between them. A dozen strokes into Ning's willing throat, then a dozen into Shuhua's eager mouth. Your hand switches between their heads, pulling, guiding, controlling the pace. Their makeup is slowly losing the fight. Ning's contour is smudged along her jawline now, and the gloss she'd put on earlier is long gone, leaving her lips puffy and messy. Shuhua's mascara has started to run beneath her eyes, creating dark crescents that weren't there before. Even her lip tint is smeared across her cheek now. The polished look both of them started with has completely fallen apart.

The pressure builds low and heavy in your stomach. Your balls tighten. The gummy's lingering effects make the orgasm feel enormous, swelling bigger than you can hold back. "I'm about to cum," you announce.

Ning pulls Shuhua off your cock and moves in front of you, kneeling on the floor of the backseat between your spread legs. She wraps her lips around the head and seals them tight, her hand pumping the shaft in fast, wet strokes. Her dark eyes look up at you, then at the camera, holding the gaze while she works you toward the edge.

You cum hard. The first pulse floods her mouth and she flinches, her cheeks bulging slightly before she swallows. More follows. Thick, heavy spurts that fill her faster than she can manage. Her throat works overtime but some of it escapes, leaking from the corners of her sealed lips and dripping down her chin. You keep cumming, pulse after pulse, the gummy ensuring that the load is obscene, far more than any normal session should produce. Her eyes water but she doesn't pull off. She takes everything you give her, her hand milking every last drop from your shaft.

When you finally stop throbbing, Ning pulls off slowly. She keeps her lips pressed tight together and turns to face the camera. She opens her mouth.

It's full. Completely full. Your cum pools on her tongue, thick and white, some of it already dripping from her lower lip. She tilts her head back slightly to show the camera, letting the load sit there, visible and obscene. Shuhua leans in close, her face next to Ning's. Ning cups Shuhua's chin and tilts her face up. Slowly she lets the cum dribble from her mouth into Shuhua's open lips. A thick strand stretches between them before breaking and landing on Shuhua's tongue.

Shuhua closes her mouth and swirls it, her expression somewhere between wonder and arousal. Then she leans toward Ning and passes it back, letting the cum slide from her lips into Ning's waiting mouth. They go back and forth, the load shrinking slightly with each transfer as they swallow bits of it, giggling between passes, their lips brushing together each time.

Finally, Ning swallows the last of it and pulls Shuhua in for a kiss. A real one. Deep and slow and wet, their tongues visible between their joined mouths, cum and saliva smearing across both their chins. They break apart and turn to face the camera with matching grins.

Ning winks at the lens. Shuhua blows a kiss.

Their faces are destroyed. Mascara tracking down their cheeks, lips swollen and smeared, chins dripping, hair tangled and damp. Ning's crop top is stained dark with spit. Shuhua's pale cheeks are flushed pink all the way to her ears. They look absolutely ruined and absolutely gorgeous.

Perfect content.

You stop recording. The car falls quiet except for their breathing and the distant sound of a car alarm somewhere in the structure. You hand the phone to Ning.

"Thanks," she says, already scrubbing through the footage. Her eyes move quickly, evaluating. "You did a great job filming. The angles are solid, you kept us in frame, the lighting caught everything. This is usable."

"I did the best I could."

"You succeeded." She watches a specific section again, the cumswapping part, and nods approvingly. "This is going to perform so well. The engagement on this will be insane."

You reach down and pull your pants back up, fastening your belt with slightly shaky fingers. "Well. I need to go now." You look between them. "It was a pleasure meeting you both. Genuinely."

Shuhua tucks a strand of damp hair behind her ear and smiles at you, still flushed, still catching her breath. "Thank you for your help. I mean it. You were very kind about the whole thing."

"Anytime." You open the car door and the cool air of the parking structure hits your face. You step out, legs a bit unsteady, and turn back to close the door.

Ning is watching you with a slight frown. She glances at Shuhua, saying, "It was a little too easy."

"What do you mean?"

"He wasn't surprised by the request. He wasn't overly excited about having two girls sucking his dick in my car. He treated the whole thing like it was just another day." She tilts her head. "That's weird, right? Most guys would be losing their minds right now."

Shuhua considers this for a moment. "Yeah, he was actually quite calm. Unusually calm. But maybe it all happened too fast and he didn't have time to process everything properly."

"Maybe," Ning says, not fully convinced. She shrugs and looks back at her phone. "Whatever. We better clean up. I still need to edit and post this before the trend peaks."

Shuhua reaches for the makeup kit. "Don't forget to tag me in the video."

"Obviously I'm tagging you. Your engagement feeds mine. It's mutually beneficial."

Shuhua rolls her eyes and smiles at the same time somehow. "Of course. Nothing says friendship like performance metrics.”

—

As usual for a weekend, Yunjin's living room is full. The girls have somehow claimed every inch of the giant L shaped couch, stretched out with their legs tangled together and their attention split between their phones and conversations happening in five directions at once. The TV's running in the background, ignored completely. Empty sushi containers crowd the coffee table beside abandoned wine glasses and Somi's energy drink.

Chaeyoung sits in Somi's lap with her back against Somi's chest, scrolling her phone while Somi braids a small section of her hair absentmindedly. Asa is cross legged on the floor cushion by the window, her laptop open, analytics dashboard visible. Ning occupies the armchair with her legs draped over one side, editing something on her phone. Shuhua sits upright at the end of the couch, both feet on the floor, posture perfect even at eleven at night.

Yunjin paces behind the couch in an oversized t shirt and shorts, wine glass in hand, narrating. "Final conclusion: Asa is winning," she announces, pointing at the screen Asa turns toward the group. "Obviously. She posted first, the algorithm favored her, the library setting was aesthetic, and her editing is annoyingly good. Twelve thousand likes and climbing. The comments are losing their minds."

"Thank you," Asa says simply.

"Second place is me." Yunjin grins with absolutely no humility. "As it should, honestly. I killed it and looked amazing doing it. Ning, put my video back on. Show them the ending.”

Ning taps the link and angles her phone so the group can see. The final thirty seconds of Yunjin's clip play on the small screen. The stage lighting, Yunjin's ruined face, and then the cumshot. The girls lean in and watch as rope after rope lands across Yunjin's cheeks, her forehead, her open mouth, her chin, her neck. It keeps going. And going. The volume of it is genuinely startling.

"What the actual fuck," Somi says, pausing mid braid.

"That's not real," Ning adds, rewinding and playing it again. "That can't be real. That's like a full minute of cum."

"It felt like a full minute," Yunjin confirms, swirling her wine. "My face was dripping. It got in my hair and I had to wash it three times."

Shuhua tilts her head, studying the footage with clinical interest. "I've genuinely never seen anyone produce that much. Is that medically normal?"

"He told me he had these gummy bears that act like some ridiculously overpowered aphrodisiac. Explains the massive cum loads. Pure genius." Yunjin takes a sip. "Look at those numbers. People are sharing that clip specifically because of the finish. The algorithm is pushing it."

Chaeyoung covers her eyes. "I can't watch it again. It's too much."

"You literally made out with Somi on camera with cum all over your face," Yunjin reminds her. "Don't get all puritan on me now."

"Watching and actually being part of it are two completely different things,” Chaeyoung replies.

By the way, their duo video is doing pretty well too. Somi's chaotic, aggressive energy mixed with Chaeyoung's softer vibe ended up creating this weirdly perfect contrast people are absolutely obsessed with. The comments are exactly what you'd expect: half thirsty, half completely unhinged. Which is apparently the dream outcome, even if Somi keeps pretending she never reads them. Ning and Shuhua's clip has the lowest numbers so far, but that's mostly because theirs went up last.

"My video's gonna do numbers too. Give it forty eight hours," Ning says, unbothered. "Late posts always start slower. Lower engagement upfront, longer lifespan after. Some big NSFW accounts already picked it up and are funneling people over.”

"You and your analytics," Yunjin mutters.

"My analytics pay my rent."

Asa closes her laptop and leans back against the wall. "Honestly? I think this worked out for everyone. The videos are getting attention, engagement's solid, and none of us got banned. That's good enough for me.”

For a few seconds, the room settles into this quiet, satisfied silence. Then Shuhua casually says, "It's the same guy."

Every head turns. Nobody says anything. Just several seconds of confused blinking until Ning finally asks: "What do you mean?"

Shuhua points at Ning's phone, which still has Yunjin's video paused on screen. "That cock. It's the same one in our video. Look at it. The size, the shape, the slight curve to the left. It's identical."

"No way," Yunjin says. "That's impossible."

"Play all the videos side by side," Shuhua insists. Asa immediately gets to work. A few quick movements later, all four clips are sitting side by side on the screen. She hits play.

The evidence is damning. The same thick shaft. The same slight leftward curve. The same heavy balls. The same pair of hands, same forearms, same skin. It's definitely the same person.

"Oh my god," Chaeyoung breathes.

"It's the same fucking guy," Somi says after a long silence. "How did six different people somehow land on the same nerd? There's no way that's statistically possible."

Ning gives a small shrug. "Shared good taste."

"This isn't funny."

"I'm not joking." Ning barely reacts. "He checked every box. He was available. Apparently very available."

Chaeyoung's face visibly crumples. She sinks lower into Somi's lap and hugs a pillow against herself. "We texted every day...I thought we had something going on.”

"Aw, Chae..." Somi murmurs softly, and her hands go back to braiding Chaeyoung's hair.

Yunjin lowers her wine glass onto the counter and looks around. "Okay, before anyone gets mad… I slept with him after.”

"You WHAT?" Somi sits up so fast that Chaeyoung nearly topples off her lap.

"His dick is amazing," Yunjin says, completely unapologetic. "I got hooked. We had sex for hours and I was about to schedule a second date. Sue me."

Chaeyoung's eyes are glassy. "I can't believe I was starting to fall for someone who was getting blowjobs from all my friends behind my back."

"Nobody knew anything," Asa says firmly. "That's the point. None of us coordinated. None of us told each other which guy we picked. We all approached him independently."

Shuhua folds her hands in her lap. "I asked him directly. When Ning and I found him in the park, I asked if any girl had ever approached him before with the same request. He told us no. That we were the first."

"That lying piece of shit," Somi hisses.

"Honestly?" Asa starts. "We can't judge him. Think about it. If we had known we were all using the same guy, we would have dropped him immediately. He saw an opportunity and he took it."

Shuhua nods. "It's somewhat fair when you consider the full picture. We used him for content and engagement. He used the situation for his own benefit. We're not really in a position to be angry."

"I'm in a position to be angry," Somi declares. Chaeyoung sniffles. Somi's hand moves from her hair to her back, rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades. "I warned you that you deserved better than him," she says.

Ning rolls her eyes from the armchair. "Please. It's not like she and him were dating. There was no exclusivity, no commitment, no cheating. She texted him for a few days. That's hardly a betrayal."

"It felt like something," Chaeyoung mumbles into the pillow.

Yunjin walks around the couch and stands in front of all of them. Her posture shifts, shoulders back, chin up, that specific energy she gets when a plan is forming behind her eyes. "We're all going out," she announces.

"Out where?" Asa asks.

"The mall. After hours. We're going to find him and we're going to settle this."

"Settle it how?" Shuhua inquires, politely but with clear suspicion.

"Chaeyoung, text him right now. Tell him to meet us." Yunjin pauses. "Actually, forget it. Let me handle this. I know how to persuade him."

Somi crosses her arms, careful not to dislodge Chaeyoung from her lap. "What exactly are you planning, Yunjin?"

Yunjin looks at her like the answer should be written on the ceiling. "Isn't it obvious? A fucking orgy. All six of us. One night. One guy. In the mall after closing."

Asa grins and laughs. “Girl, you’ve officially lost it.”

"Consider it a farewell orgy," Yunjin continues, pacing now, warming to the idea. "We get it out of our systems. All of us. Every last fantasy and curiosity and frustration. And after that, he's free. Completely free for Chaeyoung, if she still wants him. Clean slate."

Shuhua raises a finger. "Nobody is pursuing him. The only person who had sex with him outside of the challenge was you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Miss Dump-the-Lore. I'm horny and I want an orgy. Are you in or not?"

"Fuck it," Somi says. "This is my shot at getting even. I'm gonna destroy that dick. Brutally.”

Asa sets her laptop aside and stretches her arms above her head. "I'm in too. I'll admit it. I've been curious about what that thing feels like somewhere other than my throat."

Ning locks her phone and swings her legs off the armchair. "I'm in. I'm honestly curious to see how this drama's gonna end. Plus Amazon still hasn't delivered my new super vibrator, and rewatching all those clips got me horny as hell.”

Shuhua smooths her skirt over her knees, considering. "Since everyone else is going, I suppose I'll participate as well.

Everyone’s attention lands on Chaeyoung. She slowly raises her head from the pillow in Somi’s lap, pink-cheeked and blinking through damp lashes. “...Fine,” she says. “I’m in too. I want to feel that cock filling me, stretching my pussy open.” She glances down, embarrassed but honest. “I dreamed about it last night and woke up dripping.”

Then comes the collective murmur. Quiet gasps. Suppressed laughs. Multiple people making deeply judgmental mmm sounds at once. Chaeyoung lets out a tiny embarrassed laugh and hides behind her pillow again.

"Oh my god, shut up," she mumbles. "All of you, shut up, please.”

Yunjin claps her hands together so hard it echoes off the apartment walls. "Perfect! Up, everyone. Go get changed." She grabs her keys from the counter and points at the group. "And I hope every single one of you is on the pill, because things are going to get pretty fucking intense.”

—

The mall is nearly deserted when you get there. A handful of people drift toward the exits while janitors sweep through the empty walkways. The background music hums through the open space, weirdly loud without the usual crowd to drown it out. At the top of the escalator, you spot them right away. Six girls sitting around a table by the pretzel stand, looking way too good to be here for anything innocent. You know exactly what this is. You figured it out the second Yunjin texted you. The game’s up. And somehow, instead of feeling nervous, you feel completely calm. You stroll over with your hands in your pockets and pull up a chair.

"Hey girls," you say, sitting down and leaning back. "How are the videos going?"

Somi’s glare is intense enough to be considered a health hazard. Her arms are folded tightly, her expression hard, pure annoyance radiating off her in waves. Yunjin, on the other hand, looks almost entertained. She rests her chin in her hand and studies you with narrowed eyes.

“Wow,” she says. “You really had us all fooled, huh? Playing all six of us while acting like you didn’t know what was happening.”

You shrug. "You guys wanted to use me for content. I let you. Every single time. The fact that you all happened to pick the same guy isn't really my problem to solve."

Shuhua tilts her head. Those elegant features carry a trace of genuine hurt underneath the composure. "You lied to me. I asked you directly if anyone else had approached you, and you looked me in the eyes and said no."

"Yeah," you admit. No point denying it. "I did. But be honest, the video turned out great, didn't it? If you'd known I already filmed with four other girls, you would've found someone else, and maybe that someone else wouldn't have been half as good on camera."

Ning, who's been scrolling through engagement metrics on her phone this entire time, murmurs without looking up. "He has a point."

"Don't encourage him," Somi snaps.

Chaeyoung hasn't said much. She's sitting between Somi and Asa, picking at the sleeve of her sweater. When she finally glances up, her face is calm, but her eyes give her away. There’s hurt there, even if she’s trying to hide it.

"You were sleeping with Yunjin," she says quietly.

"This only happened once.”

Somi leans forward. "Chaeyoung likes you, you absolute idiot."

You meet Chaeyoung’s eyes and hold them. “Hey, I like you too. But we’ve been talking for less than a week” You spread your hands toward the table. “And I didn’t exactly know what to make of you yet. Mostly because, no offense…” You gesture at the others. “The people you’re surrounded by aren’t exactly screaming reliable.”

Asa slowly lowers her iced coffee onto the table. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean? Are you calling us sluts?”

“Asa, you literally called yourself a slut in the library. Those were your exact words.”

“Yeah, and when we say it, it’s empowering,” Asa shoots back smoothly. “It’s reclaiming the word. We're owning our choices, our bodies, and making money on our own terms. It’s about autonomy. What you’re doing is using it like an insult, which is a completely different thing.”

You raise your palms in surrender. "Fair enough. My bad. So why am I here? Are you gonna jump me in a food court? Beat me up behind a Cinnabon?"

Yunjin's smile spreads slow and dangerous. "Something like that. We do plan to break you. Just not in the way you're thinking." She pauses for effect, clearly enjoying herself. "We want to fuck you."

You blink. Then you lean back in the chair and let out a long breath through your nose. “Oh.” You nod once. “Yeah. Okay. That probably should’ve been my first guess.” Your eyes find Chaeyoung again. "Are you okay with this?"

She gives a small shrug that's trying very hard to look casual. "Why wouldn't I be? You're not my boyfriend or anything."

“For the record,” you say, tone shifting into something more genuine, “I’ve actually really liked talking to you. The late-night texts, the movie recs, all of it. I’d like that to keep being a thing. No matter what happens tonight.”

Chaeyoung watches you for a second, searching your face. Then a small smile tugs at her lips. “If you make me cum hard enough,” she says lightly, “I might hear your case.”

Somi snorts. Ning grins.

"I don't think I deserve to be put on trial here when I didn't actually do anything wrong," you reply. "But fine. Challenge accepted."

Ning tucks her phone into her purse and claps once. "Okay, okay, enough with the romance subplot. How exactly are we doing this? Logistics. Where, when, how."

You look around the emptying food court. "You're not seriously planning to do this here. In the mall."

Yunjin spreads her arms wide. "We've already filmed blowjobs in a library, a classroom, a theater, and a car. What's a mall?"

"The difference is we could get caught and arrested. All seven of us. Public indecency. That goes on a record."

Asa sets her iced coffee down like she’s been waiting for the perfect moment to speak. She clears her throat and begins: “The mall closes in twenty minutes. After that, security drops to basically nothing. One guard for the whole building, and he usually camps out by the loading dock on the north side.”

Everyone turns to stare at her.

Completely unfazed, she keeps going: “I know a girl who works at the mattress store on the first floor. SleepHaven, over by the west corridor. She told me that whole section had all its security cameras taken down for replacement this morning, and the install crew never showed. No cameras until at least Monday.” She takes a casual sip of her coffee. “I’ll head down now, ask to use the restroom, pretend to leave, then hide in there until they lock up. The bathroom lock’s been broken for weeks, so there’s no chance of getting stuck. Once the store’s closed and everyone’s gone, I’ll open the front gate from the inside and let you all in.”

Silence around the table. Shuhua exhales slowly. "So either this is going to be the best sex any of us have ever had, or we get arrested, end up on the local news, and our lives are effectively over."

Yunjin grins so wide it's almost manic. "Both of those outcomes sound pretty great to me. Let's go."

Chaeyoung shifts nervously in her seat. Ning puts a hand on her knee under the table. "Relax. Think about that huge cock that's about to be inside you. Focus on the positives."

"I'm literally right here," you say.

Ning just smirks at you. Doesn't say a word. Shuhua stands up and smooths down her skirt. "Fine. Let's go to the first floor. Split up. Move separately. Stay away from any active camera zones. We'll reconvene at the restrooms near the west corridor."

And that's how you end up locked in a mall bathroom stall at eleven thirty on a Saturday night, sitting on a closed toilet lid, scrolling through your phone while the building goes quiet around you. The lights in the corridor outside dim to half power. The muzak cuts off. You hear the distant rumble of security gates being pulled down over storefronts.

Forty minutes pass. Your phone buzzes. Yunjin's text reads:

on our way. going separately. be careful

You crack the stall door open and listen. Nothing. You slip out of the restroom and into the corridor. The first floor is eerie with most of the lights off, storefronts shuttered behind metal gates, the air conditioning humming low. Your sneakers barely make a sound on the polished floor. When you reach SleepHaven, five silhouettes are already gathered outside the gate. Asa's face appears behind the glass a moment later. She fiddles with something, and the front gate slides open just enough for everyone to duck under.

You file in one by one. Asa pulls the gate back down behind you. Yunjin doesn't waste a second. She kicks off her shoes and throws herself backward onto a king size display mattress near the front.

"The universe loves me. An orgy in a mattress store. This is genuinely the greatest night of my life."

Asa hisses at her immediately. "Keep it down. And we can't do this out here, anyone walking by the storefront might overhear. Grab a mattress, take it to the back area behind the counter. There are pillars back there, it's more concealed."

They end up choosing a queen-size display bed that’s already dressed in spotless sheets and looks ridiculously high-end. You grab one end, Somi grabs the other, and together you haul it behind the service counter to the back section of the store. Yunjin surveys the setup and nods approvingly. "This is actually perfect. Way better than I expected."

Shuhua is running her hand along the sheets. "This is a three thousand dollar mattress. Egyptian cotton sheets. If we're going to commit a felony, at least we're doing it in luxury."

"Okay," you say, standing at the edge of the mattress. "I'm going to be honest. I have absolutely no idea how this works. I've never done anything like this before."

Somi steps forward. She puts one hand flat on your chest and pushes. Hard. You lose your balance and fall backward onto the mattress, the expensive sheets puffing up around you. "Lie down," Somi orders, looking down at you. "And leave the rest to us."

You look up at the six girls standing over you and grin, sinking deeper into the mattress. “Alright then,” you say. “I’m at your service.”

There’s no drawn-out moment to it. Everyone just starts undressing. Yunjin finishes pulling off the top she’d already loosened earlier and casually flings it behind the counter. Somi pops her bra loose with one hand while kicking off her jeans. Ning pauses long enough to fold her skirt perfectly before setting it aside. Chaeyoung turns a little as she slips out of her bra, clearly self-conscious, while Asa strips down with the detached efficiency of someone changing after class. Shuhua carefully unbuttons her blouse, smoothing it flat over a nearby pillow.

You pull your shirt over your head, shove your jeans and boxers down, and your cock springs free. Already half hard from the sheer visual assault of six naked women in a dimly lit mattress store.

Yunjin goes first, exactly as everyone expected. She swings herself over your lap, straddling your hips as the mattress dips beneath her knees. Then she leans in and claims your mouth without warning, her tongue sliding past your lips like she’s not interested in asking permission. There’s nothing tentative about it. She kisses hard and deep, all heat and confidence. Her hand snakes down between your bodies, gripping your cock and stroking until you’re fully hard under her touch. Then she guides you lower, dragging the tip through her soaked folds until it catches at her entrance.

"God, I'll literally never get tired of this," Yunjin breathes against your lips. "The way you stretch me open. It's so fucking good every single time." She sinks down. Slow. Taking inch after inch until her ass meets your thighs and she's fully seated with your entire length buried inside her. Her walls grip you tight, clenching, adjusting. Her head tips back and her mouth falls open.

Then Somi is there. Standing over you, looking down at your face with that cold, mean expression she wears so well.

"Alright," she says, one leg swinging over your head. "Let's put that tongue to work. See if it's actually good for anything besides lying to people."

She lowers herself onto your mouth. Her pussy presses against your lips, wet and warm, her thighs framing your face. She's facing Yunjin, their knees almost touching on either side of your body. You flatten your tongue and drag it through her folds, tasting her, finding her clit and circling it. Somi's thighs twitch.

"Don't be gentle about it," she tells you, grinding down harder. "You owe me."

To your left, Ning takes Chaeyoung's hand. "C'mon babe, lie down," she murmurs. "We're not just gonna stand here watching."

Chaeyoung settles onto the mattress beside you, on her back, her dark hair fanning out across the white sheets. Ning crawls between her legs, pushes her thighs apart, and dips her head. Chaeyoung gasps when Ning's tongue touches her, her back arching slightly off the mattress.

Behind Ning, Asa kneels. With Ning on all fours, her ass presented perfectly, Asa spreads her cheeks with both hands and buries her face between them. Her tongue drags from Ning's clit all the way back, slow and thorough, circling her asshole before dipping back down to her pussy. Ning moans into Chaeyoung, the vibration making Chaeyoung whimper. Shuhua watches. She's standing beside the mattress, one hand between her own legs, fingers sliding through her wetness as she takes in the scene. Her eyes are locked on where Yunjin's body meets yours, watching your cock disappear inside her with each roll of her hips.

Yunjin notices. She reaches out with one hand, hooks it behind Shuhua's neck, and pulls her in for a kiss. Shuhua leans into it, her fingers working faster between her thighs while Yunjin's tongue slides against hers.

Yunjin breaks the kiss and looks back at Somi. "Fuck, your tits look so good from here," she says, openly staring at the way Somi's chest bounces with each shift of her hips against your face. "So fucking hot, seriously."

"I know," Somi responds, not even slightly humble about it. She rolls her hips forward, smearing herself across your mouth. "Deeper. Get your tongue inside me."

You push your tongue into her, as deep as it'll go, and she grinds down on it. Her full weight presses against your face, and breathing becomes genuinely difficult. Your nose is pressed against her clit, your mouth completely covered by her pussy. She's suffocating you and she knows it and she doesn't care.

It’s heaven. You’d die smiling buried in her ass.

Yunjin picks up her pace on top of you. She plants her hands on your chest and starts really riding, lifting her hips until just the tip remains inside before dropping back down with her full weight. Each time she takes you to the root, her breath hitches, her nails dig into your skin. Your cock is coated in her arousal, glistening every time she rises.

"You feel so deep like this," Yunjin groans, rolling her hips in a circle before slamming back down. "I swear you're in my fucking stomach right now."

Somi reaches forward and grabs one of Yunjin's tits, squeezing roughly. "Ride him harder. I wanna feel him moan into me when you do it." Yunjin laughs breathlessly and complies. She speeds up, the wet sound of skin meeting skin filling the dark store. Every time she bottoms out, your hips jerk involuntarily, and Somi feels the moan travel through your tongue directly into her cunt. She bites her lip, satisfied.

To your left, Chaeyoung is squirming under Ning's mouth. Her fingers are tangled in Ning's hair, pulling gently, her chest heaving. "Right there, Ning, don't stop, fuck, please don't stop."

Ning hums in acknowledgment, then gasps herself as Asa's tongue pushes inside her ass. Her back dips, pushing her hips back against Asa's face, seeking more.

"Asa, that feels insane," Ning mumbles between Chaeyoung's legs. "Do that again." Asa doesn't respond verbally. She just grips Ning's hips tighter and keeps going, alternating between her holes with a precision that has Ning trembling on her knees.

Shuhua pulls away from kissing Yunjin and kneels beside the mattress, still touching herself. “Yunjin, if I may say so, you look exceptionally pretty taking that cock,” says softly, and even her dirty talk sounds polished somehow. “The way it stretches you is... deeply impressive.”

"Shu, babe, it's unreal," Yunjin responds between bounces. "His dick is literally ruining me for everyone else. That's not even a joke. No one else is ever gonna measure up."

Somi grabs the back of your head with one hand, lifting it slightly, pressing you harder against her. Your tongue aches from the effort but you keep going, sucking her clit between your lips, flicking it rapidly. Her thighs are shaking now. "Shit," Somi breathes. "Okay, maybe your mouth isn't completely useless."

Yunjin's rhythm becomes erratic. She's chasing it now, grinding her clit against your pelvis with each downstroke, her walls clenching tighter around you. Her moans get louder, less controlled. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum," she pants. "Your cock is so deep, I can feel it everywhere, I'm literally about to lose it."

She slams down one final time and holds there, grinding in tight circles. Her whole body seizes, thighs clamping against your sides, her pussy spasming around your shaft in rhythmic pulses. She throws her head back and her mouth opens in a silent scream before the sound catches up, a long, shuddering moan that echoes off the store walls. Somi watches Yunjin cum and something about it tips her over the edge too. Her thighs slam shut around your head, trapping you completely, her hips bucking against your mouth in short, sharp jerks.

"Don't you dare stop," she hisses through her teeth, one hand braced on Yunjin's shoulder. Her whole body goes rigid for three seconds, then she comes apart, grinding down on your tongue through it, her slick flooding your lips and chin. Her legs tremble violently on either side of your head before she finally loosens her grip and you gasp for air.

They both climb off. Your face is drenched, Somi's arousal smeared from your forehead to your chin. Your cock is still hard, still throbbing, slick with Yunjin's cum.

Yunjin collapses onto the edge of the mattress, spent and grinning. "Okay. Who's next."

Chaeyoung sits up. Her cheeks are flushed from whatever Ning was doing to her moments ago, her eyes bright. "Me!"

The other girls shift, making room. Ning wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Asa sits back on her heels. You pull yourself upright and move toward Chaeyoung, settling between her legs as she lies back down. You look down at her. She looks up at you. In the dim glow of the emergency lights, her face is soft and beautiful and a little nervous.

You smile softly. “Hey.”

She meets it with a little smile of her own. “Hey.”

"I'm gonna go slow," you tell her quietly. Just for her. "You tell me to stop whenever you need me to." She nods, her hand finding yours on the sheet and squeezing gently.

You guide yourself to Chaeyoung's entrance and press forward. Just the tip at first, barely pushing in, letting her feel the stretch before you commit. Her eyes go wide, her lips parting, fingers curling into the sheets beneath her. "Oh my god," she whispers, staring up at you. "That's just the beginning?"

"Just the beginning," you confirm, and push another inch inside her.

Behind you, the mattress shifts as everyone else finds their positions. Yunjin grabs Shuhua by the waist and pulls her close, tangling their legs together until their pussies press flush against each other. Yunjin starts grinding immediately, rolling her hips in slow, lazy circles, her wetness mixing with Shuhua's. A few feet away, Ning swings a leg over Asa's face and settles down, her knees bracketing Asa's head. Asa's hands come up to grip Ning's thighs and she gets to work without being asked. Somi kneels between Asa's spread legs, slides two fingers inside her, and starts pumping with a casual, almost bored efficiency that makes it clear she's done this before.

You sink deeper into Chaeyoung. She grabs your forearm, squeezing hard, her back lifting off the mattress. You stop halfway and let her breathe. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just... give me a sec. You're really thick." She exhales slowly, her walls fluttering around you, adjusting. Then she nods. "Keep going." You push the rest of the way in. All of it. Chaeyoung's mouth falls open and no sound comes out for a solid three seconds. Then she lets out this shaky, overwhelmed little moan that makes Yunjin glance over from her scissoring position and grin.

"There it is," Yunjin says approvingly, grinding harder against Shuhua. "That's the face. I made that exact same face my first time with him."

You pull back slowly and thrust in again, building a gentle rhythm. Chaeyoung's hands find your shoulders, pulling you down closer. You lean in and kiss her, soft and deep, and she melts into it. When you pull back, she's smiling.

"You taste like Somi," she murmurs against your lips.

"Bet that's a taste you know pretty well."

Chaeyoung's cheeks flush even darker. "Maybe."

Somi doesn't even look up from fingering Asa. "I heard that. And yes, she does."

Ning laughs from her perch on Asa's face, then cuts herself off with a sharp gasp when Asa does something particularly good with her tongue. "Fuck, Asa, what are you doing down there? That's so good, keep doing that."

Asa can't respond because her mouth is full of Ning's pussy, but she gives a thumbs up with one hand, which makes Shuhua giggle breathlessly from where she's grinding against Yunjin.

"This is genuinely the most unhinged thing I've ever participated in," Shuhua manages between heavy breaths, her hips moving in rhythm with Yunjin's. "And I'm including the time Ning convinced me to skinny dip at that resort."

"Shu, babe, this is so much better than skinny dipping," Yunjin replies, reaching down to adjust the angle of their hips so their clits press together more directly. Shuhua whimpers at the change in pressure. "This is like... peak friendship activities right here."

You pick up the pace with Chaeyoung. She wraps her legs around your waist, locking her ankles behind your back, and the new angle lets you go deeper. Her nails rake down your shoulders. "Right there," she breathes. "Oh god, right there, don't move from that spot."

"Chae's getting loud," Somi observes, curling her fingers inside Asa and making her jolt. "I love that for her honestly."

"She deserves it," Ning says, then rolls her hips against Asa's mouth, chasing the sensation. "After all those sad little crushes she's had? Let the girl have her moment."

"Can you guys stop talking about me while I'm getting fucked, please," Chaeyoung says, but she's laughing, and then the laugh dissolves into a moan when you thrust particularly deep.

Yunjin is sweating. They're all sweating. The store has no ventilation running this late, and the combined body heat of seven people fucking on a three thousand dollar mattress has turned the back area into a sauna. Skin glistens under the dim emergency lighting. The sounds are obscene and layered: wet skin, heavy breathing, Ning's sharp little gasps mixing with Shuhua's softer ones, the rhythmic slap of your hips meeting Chaeyoung's.

Somi adds a third finger inside Asa, stretching her, and Asa's hips buck off the mattress. Ning grabs Somi's shoulder to keep her balance. "Warn me before you do that, she almost threw me off."

"Not my fault Asa's a squirmer," Somi says, pumping faster. "You good down there, Asa?"

Asa pulls her mouth away from Ning just long enough to gasp, "So fucking good, oh my god, keep going,” before Ning pushes her head back down.

"Nope, you're not done," Ning tells her sweetly.

You shift your weight onto one arm and bring your free hand down between your body and Chaeyoung's. Your thumb finds her clit, swollen and sensitive, and you start rubbing in slow circles while you fuck her. The effect is instantaneous. Chaeyoung's whole body tenses, her grip on your shoulders turning desperate.

"Oh fuck," she gasps. "Oh fuck, that's not fair, you can't do both at the same time."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm gonna lose my mind, that's why." Her hips are grinding up to meet yours now, matching your rhythm, trying to get more of everything at once. "Your cock is literally splitting me open and now you're touching my clit and I can't, I actually can't—"

Yunjin, still grinding against Shuhua, looks over with pure delight on her face. "She's gonna blow. Look at her legs shaking."

Ning is rocking faster on Asa's face, she grabs her own breast, squeezing, her head tipping back. "Shit, I'm close too. Asa, please, keep going, I'm so close, I'm gonna cum so hard."

You press harder on Chaeyoung's clit, rubbing faster, your hips snapping into her with deep, steady strokes. She's clenching around you so tight it's almost difficult to move. Her moans have gone high and thin, her eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in her body coiling. "Look at me," you tell her quietly. She opens her eyes. They're glassy, overwhelmed, gorgeous. "Cum for me, Chae."

She shatters. Her back arches completely off the mattress, her legs lock around you, and her pussy clamps down on your cock in hard, rhythmic spasms. And then the gush comes. Warm and sudden, soaking your pelvis, the sheets beneath her, running down your thighs. She's squirting, hard, her whole body convulsing with it.

Yunjin's jaw drops mid grind. "Holy shit, she's squirting! She's literally squirting all over that poor mattress!"

The sight of it pushes Ning over. She grinds down on Asa's mouth one final time and cums, her thighs clamping around Asa's head, her fingers digging into Somi's shoulder hard. Asa cums seconds later from Somi's relentless fingers, her legs trembling and her muffled moans vibrating against Ning's cunt. Shuhua follows, burying her face in Yunjin's neck, flushed and panting, her hips stuttering through the last waves of her orgasm.

Somi pulls her fingers out of Asa, holds them up, glistening and dripping, and licks them clean with a look of pure satisfaction.

Chaeyoung is still trembling beneath you, aftershocks rolling through her. "I'm so sorry," she pants, looking down at the soaked sheets. "I came so hard. I couldn't help it. I've never done that before."

"Don't you dare apologize for squirting," Yunjin says firmly, wiping sweat from her forehead. "That was the hottest thing you could have possibly done."

Somi nods. "We'll deal with the mattress situation later. Not important right now."

"Agreed," Ning says, climbing off Asa's face and stretching. Her legs are still wobbly. She looks at your cock, still hard, still wet with Chaeyoung's cum, and her eyes sharpen with hunger. "Because I need that inside me right now. Immediately."

Yunjin sits up, her director energy returning. "Okay then. Asa, Ning, Shu. Line up. On all fours. Show us these pretty pussies." The three of them arrange themselves side by side on the mattress, knees spread, backs arched, asses presented. Asa, Ning, Shuhua. Three different body types, three different skin tones, all of them glistening with sweat and each other's spit.

Yunjin beckons you over. "Come fuck these little sluts, nerd.”

Somi circles around to the front of the lineup, taking her time as she studies them from the other side. Her gaze drifts over the three bent bodies, the way they’re all presented for you, and then she reaches out without warning and gives Shuhua’s ass a sharp smack. She jolts with a startled yelp, shooting Somi a scandalized look.

“Hey! Warn me before you start getting handsy.”

Somi only grins, entirely unbothered, then turns that wicked little expression on you. "Look at them. Three tight little pussies all lined up just for you. How's that feel?”

You stare at the three of them, each one looking back over her shoulder at you, waiting. Your cock throbs. "I genuinely cannot put what I'm feeling into words.”

Yunjin snorts, arms crossed. "Then stop trying to put it into words and start putting your cock in them. That's the only language they need right now.”

Asa, her ass arched perfectly, her cheek resting on her folded arms, glances back at Yunjin with a lazy grin. "Wow. Shakespeare could never.”

Yunjin kneels beside Shuhua and grabs both her cheeks, spreading them open with her thumbs, putting everything on display for you. Shuhua's pussy is glistening, swollen, absolutely dripping from her earlier orgasm and the continued arousal of watching everyone else get fucked.

"C'mon," she says, looking up at you with that insatiable grin. "Time to fuck."

There’s no teasing pause. You guide yourself against her and push in. The head breaches Shuhua's entrance and she immediately drops her forehead to the mattress, her fingers clawing at the sheets. You stop with just the tip inside, letting her adjust. Her walls are squeezing you so tight it's almost resistance. "Oh," Shuhua breathes. "Oh, that's... that is significantly larger than I anticipated."

Ning, still on all fours beside her, glances over. "Girl, breathe. You'll get used to it."

"Easy for you to say, you haven't taken it yet," Shuhua replies through gritted teeth, but she pushes her hips back slightly, taking another inch on her own terms. You grip her hips and feed her more, slow, steady. Shuhua's spine curves downward, her shoulder blades pinching together. When you're about three quarters in, she lets out this long, shaking exhale.

"I've used large toys before," she says, almost conversationally despite the strain in her tone. "This doesn't even compare. The heat, the way it throbs. It's completely different."

"You doing okay?" you ask, rubbing your thumb along her hip bone.

"More than okay. Please keep going." You bottom out inside her and Shuhua makes a sound you've never heard from her before. Something between a whimper and a laugh, surprised and overwhelmed and deeply pleased all at once. You start moving, pulling back slow and pushing in deep, establishing a rhythm that lets her feel every inch.

On the other end of the mattress, Somi has pulled Chaeyoung into her lap. They're kissing, messy and unhurried, Somi's hands tangled in Chaeyoung's hair. Somi breaks away and licks her lower lip.

"You were so fucking hot squirting like that," Somi murmurs against Chaeyoung's mouth. "I almost came just watching you." Chaeyoung blushes but grins. Her hand traces down Somi's stomach, over her navel, and slips between her thighs. She pushes two fingers inside Somi without warning. Somi gasps, her hips jerking forward. "Shit, Chae, warn a girl."

"You didn't warn me when you shoved my face down on his cock," Chaeyoung replies sweetly, curling her fingers.

Somi's head tips back. "Okay fair. Fuck. Keep going, baby. Finger that wet pussy while I watch them get wrecked."

You're building speed inside Shuhua now. Her initial tension has dissolved into pure pleasure, her hips rocking back to meet your thrusts. Yunjin hasn't moved from her spot beside the lineup. She leans in and spits directly on where your cock meets Shuhua's pussy, the saliva mixing with the mess already there.

"That's it," Yunjin says, watching with dark, hungry eyes. "Fuck her good. Look at how well she takes it now."

"Yunjin," Shuhua manages, "please stop narrating and let me enjoy this."

"Never. This is the best show I've ever seen."

You pull out of Shuhua and she whines at the loss. Ning is next. You shift over, position yourself behind her, and push in. Ning is wetter than Shuhua was, practically dripping down her thighs already, but she's just as tight. The first few inches make her gasp and grab the mattress. "Fuck me," Ning breathes. "Okay. Okay I get it now. I get why Yunjin lost her mind over this."

"Right?" Yunjin says proudly. "Told you." You sink deeper and Ning's arms give out. Her chest presses flat against the mattress, ass still raised, and you can feel her clenching around you, her body trying to accommodate the stretch. You give her a moment, then start thrusting. Ning buries her face in her arms and moans.

Yunjin spits on Ning's pussy too, then smacks her ass lightly. "Take that dick, Ning. You were bragging about your skills all week, show me you can handle it."

"I am handling it," Ning says, except she very clearly isn't. Her voice is trembling. "It's just... a lot. God, it's so much."

Across the mattress, Chaeyoung has migrated lower. She's got her mouth on Somi's left breast, sucking the nipple between her lips while her fingers keep working inside her. Somi watches her with hooded eyes, one hand on the back of Chaeyoung's head.

"I love your tits so much," Chaeyoung mumbles against the soft skin, switching to the other one. "They're ridiculous. Like genuinely unfair."

"Babe, you can have them whenever you want," Somi replies, arching into her mouth. "Just keep doing what you're doing with those fingers."

You pull out of Ning and move to Asa. She's been waiting patiently, her cheek resting on her folded arms, watching you fuck the other two with analytical interest. When you press against her entrance, she pushes back immediately, trying to take you in one motion. But her body resists. She only gets halfway before she hisses and stops.

"Shit," Asa says, surprised. "I thought I was ready. That's thicker than it looks."

"Take your time."

"No, just push. I can handle it." You push. Asa's fingers curl into fists and she breathes out hard through her nose, but she doesn't tell you to stop. When you're fully seated inside her, she lets out a low groan that sounds almost relieved. "Okay," she says. "Yeah. That's incredible actually."

You start fucking her, and Asa is different from the other two. She pushes back to meet every thrust, matches your rhythm instantly, treats it almost like a collaboration. Her pussy grips you perfectly, slick and hot and eager.

Yunjin is in her element. She moves between the three of them, spitting on each pussy as you rotate, slapping asses, gripping hair, running her nails down their spines. She's the conductor of this whole symphony and she's loving every second.

"Look at them," she says to you, spreading Asa's cheeks so you can watch yourself slide in and out. "Look at how they take that fat cock. They're soaking. All three of them are dripping for you."

You switch back to Shuhua. She cries out when you enter her again, pushing back greedily. Then to Ning, who's so wet now that the sounds are obscene, filthy and loud in the quiet store. Then Asa again, who grinds back against you with precision.

Yunjin crouches next to Ning's face and lifts her chin. "You like getting fucked like this? Getting shared? All three of you lined up like good little sluts?" Ning just moans in response, her eyes glassy. "If I'd brought my strap we could've been double teaming these pussies," she continues, looking back at you. "Next time. Definitely next time. Me and you, fucking them from both ends."

Somi pulls Chaeyoung's mouth off her breast to watch. "They look so good from here. Especially Shuhua. She's completely gone."

Chaeyoung nods, her fingers still buried inside Somi, pumping steadily. "She's always so put together. It's nice seeing her fall apart."

You keep rotating. Shuhua cums first. You're deep inside her, one hand on her hip, the other gripping her shoulder, and she turns her face to the side so you can see her expression when it hits. Her eyes flutter shut, her mouth opens, and she comes apart in these beautiful, controlled waves, her pussy milking your cock through each contraction. Somehow even this is elegant.

Asa goes next. You're gripping her waist, pounding into her at a pace she set herself, and her head drops forward. "There, there, fuck, right there, I'm cumming," she whispers, and her whole body seizes. Her walls clamp down so hard it almost stops your movement. She shakes through it, silent except for these tiny, breathy sounds.

Ning is last. You're still inside Asa when Yunjin says, "Ning needs to cum. Go wreck her." You pull out of Asa and push into Ning. She's so sensitive at this point that she flinches at the first thrust. Yunjin grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her head back. "Grab her hair," Yunjin tells you. "Fuck her hard. She can take it."

You wrap Ning's hair around your fist and pull. She gasps, her back arching severely. You start pounding into her. Hard. Deep. Relentless. Ning's moans escalate rapidly into something approaching a scream.

"Ning!" Shuhua hisses sharply. "The security guard. Keep it down."

Ning slaps her own hand over her mouth, her eyes wide, her body jolting with each thrust.

The muffled sounds leaking through her fingers are still loud but contained. You don't stop. You fuck her through it, pulling her hair, driving into her until her thighs start shaking violently and she cums with a strangled sound behind her palm, her pussy contracting around you in hard, rhythmic squeezes. Her entire body goes limp when it passes, collapsing flat onto the mattress.

You pull out, wipe the sweat from your forehead, and sit back on your heels. Your cock is glistening, impossibly hard still, twitching against your stomach. "That was insane," you pant, looking at the three spent girls in front of you. "Seriously. I don't know how guys in porn last this long. My legs are shaking."

"Well," Somi says, extracting herself from Chaeyoung's fingers and crawling toward you. "You better hold on a little longer. Because now it's my turn."

She pushes you flat on your back. You hit the mattress with a grunt. Somi swings a leg over your hips, but instead of facing you normally, she plants her feet on either side of your chest, squatting over your cock in a deep stance. Her thighs flex, her core engages, and she grips the base of your shaft to line you up.

Yunjin slaps the mattress with both hands. "Yes! Amazon position! Go for it, Somi, ride that cock!"

Ning, still flat on her stomach recovering, lifts her head long enough to whistle. Shuhua immediately makes a sharp shushing sound at her, eyes wide.

Somi stares down at you, face unreadable except for that familiar look of mild annoyance she somehow manages to make attractive. Calm. Detached. In control. "Let's see what all the fuss is about," she says. "Everyone else completely lost their shit over this. I don't buy it.”

She lowers herself onto you. Inch by agonizing inch. In this position, squatting over you with her feet planted on either side of your chest, Somi controls everything. The angle, the depth, the speed. You can't thrust up, can't grab her hips, can't do anything except lie there and take what she decides to give you. Your cock stretches her open and you watch her face. She's fighting. Every micro expression is a battle between the pleasure flooding her body and the icy composure she refuses to drop, even as her jaw tightens and her breathing starts to lose its rhythm. Her thighs tremble as she sinks lower, swallowing more of you inside her, her pussy spreading around your girth.

She stops about halfway. Breathes. Then pushes down the rest of the way until her ass meets your pelvis and every inch of you is buried in her. Her eyes close for exactly one second. When they open again, she's rearranged her expression into something cool and unaffected.

"Okay," she says, looking down at you. "I'll give you this much. It's a pretty impressive cock." She shifts her hips, adjusting to the fullness, and you feel her walls squeeze around you involuntarily. "Real waste that it belongs to someone like you, though."

"Sorry about that," you reply, your breath catching as she clenches again. "I'll try to be hotter next time."

"Shut up. Don't talk. Just lie there and let me use you like the stupid little toy you are."

Somi starts moving. Slowly at first. She lifts her hips until barely anything remains, pauses for a second, then sinks back down with controlled force. The impact sends a sharp jolt through you. Then she does it again. And again. Gradually settling into a rhythm she seems satisfied with. Her pussy grips your shaft on every upstroke, wet and impossibly tight, then swallows you whole on the way back down.

The view from below is staggering. Somi's body is built for this. Her slim waist, her toned stomach flexing with each movement, and those massive breasts bouncing with every drop of her hips. They move almost independently, heavy and full, swaying and colliding against each other. Sweat is beginning to bead along her collarbones, rolling down between them.

Yunjin sits cross legged on the mattress, watching with her chin propped on her fist. "Okay, she looks fucking incredible doing that. Like, objectively."

Ning nods slowly, still recovering from her own orgasm, lying on her stomach with her chin in her hands. "It's giving professional athlete. The core strength alone."

"Seriously though," Asa adds, tilting her head to study Somi's form. "Look at the control she has. She's basically doing weighted squats right now. That's genuinely impressive."

Shuhua watches from beside Yunjin. "If I tried to do that, I would absolutely injure my lower back."

Asa glances at her. "That's because you used to walk around with your spine curved like a shrimp, Shu. You have the posture of someone who's been gaming for twelve hours straight. You only realized because Yunjin took that cursed picture of you.”

Yunjin barks out a laugh. Shuhua's mouth falls open. "That was truly offensive," Shuhua says quietly. "And for the record, I'm fixing it. My posture's good now. I bought a posture corrector and everything."

"Girl, that thing is still in the packaging on your desk," Ning says without looking up.

Somi ignores all of them. She's locked into her rhythm now, bouncing on your cock with increasing intensity, her hands braced on your chest for leverage. Each time she drops down, the sound of skin meeting skin is sharp and wet. Your hands are flat on the mattress because she hasn't given you permission to touch her, and somehow that makes it hotter. She's using you. Completely and totally.

Somi looks down at you, and her mouth curls into something between a smirk and a sneer. "God, you're adorable like this." She rolls her hips in a filthy slow circle, grinding your cock deep before picking her rhythm back up. "Pinned under me. Dumb and hard and just letting me take what I want. Like a good little fucktoy."

"View's pretty good from here too," you breathe, barely getting the words out while her cunt grips you on every drop.

"Yeah?" She lifts almost all the way off, just the tip, then slams her hips down so hard your vision whites out. "Nnngh— you like this? Like getting fucked stupid by a girl who doesn't give a shit if you cum? Just lying there taking it like an obedient little bitch?"

"Yes," you groan, hands fisting the sheets. "Fuck— yes, I like it.”

"Of course you do." She picks up speed, and the wet sounds get louder, filthier. Her breasts are bouncing so hard they're practically hitting her chin on every drop. "This is where you belong. On your back, getting used. You should be thanking me."

Yunjin starts clapping rhythmically, like she's at a sporting event. "Let's go Somi! Ride that dick! Let's go Somi!"

Ning immediately joins in, clapping along. "Bounce bounce bounce! Wreck that cock!"

Asa cups her hands around her mouth. "Give me an S! Give me an O! Give me an M!" Give me am I!”

Chaeyoung is giggling uncontrollably, clapping along with them.

Shuhua's eyes go wide. "Can you all please be quieter? There is a security guard somewhere in this building." They all drop to stage whispers, still clapping, still chanting, but at a fraction of the volume. Yunjin is whisper screaming "let's go Somi" with the intensity of a soccer mom at a championship game. Ning is doing quiet finger snaps. Asa is mouthing the letters of Somi's name with exaggerated lip movements.

Somi doesn't acknowledge any of them. She's grinding now, deep and circular, her clit pressing hard against your pelvis on every rotation. Her breathing has changed. Shorter. Sharper. That icy control is fracturing. You can see it in the way her thighs are shaking, the way her nails are digging into your chest, the way she keeps biting the inside of her cheek.

She speeds up again. Full bounces, slamming herself down, taking you to the root every time. Your cock is drenched in her, glistening in the low light. The mattress creaks beneath you. She tilts forward slightly, changing the angle, and her mouth opens in a silent gasp that she immediately tries to suppress.

"Fuck," she whispers. “Fuck…” She grinds down hard, circling her hips, pressing her clit against you with desperate pressure. Her thighs clamp around your sides. Her head drops forward, blonde hair curtaining her face, and her whole body locks up. You feel her pussy spasm around you in tight, rhythmic contractions, milking your shaft as the orgasm rolls through her. She grinds through every wave of it, extracting every last second, her hips stuttering and her breath coming in these ragged, broken exhales she can't quite control.

When it passes, she stays seated on you for a long moment. Still full of you. Catching her breath. Then she rises slowly, your cock sliding out of her with a wet, obscene sound, and she climbs off the mattress on slightly unsteady legs.

Somi rakes her fingers through her hair and gives you this perfectly curated look of mild disinterest. "Your dick's... fine. Nothing I couldn't replace with a ten-minute Amazon order.”

Yunjin snorts so hard she almost chokes. "Please. Even you don't believe that. I saw your legs shaking, Somi."

Somi's cheeks flush hot. "That doesn't mean anything. I'm not some pathetic slut who gets attached because a guy has a big dick. That's your department."

Yunjin doesn't flinch. Just smiles, soft and knowing. "You're so full of shit, babe. But it's cute. Keep pretending.” Somi rolls her eyes and turns away, but you catch the faintest trace of a smirk before she kills it.

Then Yunjin claps her hands once and the energy in the room shifts. "Okay. There's someone here who still hasn't gotten off." She looks at you pointedly. Your cock is still hard, still slick, throbbing against your stomach. "Stand up."

You get to your feet. Your legs are genuinely wobbly. Six pairs of eyes look up at you as the girls arrange themselves on their knees in a loose semicircle on the mattress. Asa to your left, Ning and Shuhua in the center, Yunjin to the right, Chaeyoung directly in front of you.

Somi steps forward. She reaches up and slides your glasses off your face. The world goes slightly blurry. Then she turns and places them carefully on Chaeyoung's face. The frames sit crooked on her smaller nose. She adjusts them, pushes them up, and looks up at you through the lenses with those big, pretty eyes.

Yunjin surveys the six of them kneeling around you and puts her hands on her hips. "Alright. Here's how we're doing this. I'll play distributor. Make sure everyone gets their fair share. No one girl hogging more than she's entitled to. Equal distribution of cum across all parties."

Shuhua tilts her head. "That's not really necessary. We're perfectly capable of organizing ourselves. No central authority needed. We just take turns, share naturally, everyone gets what they need."

Yunjin points at her. "And that is how you get one girl with a face full of cum and four girls with nothing. You need structure. Leadership. I'm the one who put this whole thing together. I organized the venue, the logistics, the communication. I am essentially the vanguard of this entire sexually transgressive movement." She pauses, then touches her hair with genuine regret. "Shit, I really should've brought a beret.”

Somi tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and exhales through her nose. "We're literally waiting for him to cum on our faces and you two are doing dialectics.”

"You're not the vanguard of anything," Shuhua replies calmly. "You're just horny and bossy. Those aren't the same thing."

Ning snorts. Asa covers her mouth.

"Can you two please shut up and start sucking," Chaeyoung says flatly, already wrapping her hand around your shaft. Your glasses sit crooked on her face, way too big for her, and she looks up at you through them with this expression that's equal parts sweet and filthy. She leans forward and takes the head into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it, tasting the combined slick of every girl who rode you tonight.

"Fine. Actions over theory. I can respect that,” Yunjin says before she ducks her head and runs her tongue along the left side of your shaft while Chaeyoung works the tip. Ning joins from the right, her tongue tracing a vein from base to mid shaft.

Three mouths on you at once. Your cock is more than big enough to accommodate them. Chaeyoung sucks the head with these slow pulls, her cheeks hollowing, while Yunjin and Ning lap at the shaft from either side, their tongues occasionally meeting and sliding against each other.

Somi kneels behind Chaeyoung, watching over her shoulder. "Tilt your head more, Chae. You're losing the angle."

Chaeyoung adjusts and takes you deeper, the glasses sliding down her nose. She pushes them back up with one finger without missing a beat.

Asa taps Ning's shoulder. "My turn." Ning pulls back and Asa takes her place, her technique immediately different. More controlled, more rhythmic. She sucks along the side of your shaft in long, measured strokes, her hand cupping your balls, rolling them gently. She remembers from the library how sensitive they are.

Shuhua waits patiently until Chaeyoung comes up for air, then leans in and takes over the tip. She's less hesitant than she was in the car. Something about tonight has unlocked her. She takes you halfway down without flinching, her throat relaxing around you, and holds there for a few seconds before pulling back with spit connecting her lips to your cock.

"Good girl, Shu," Yunjin murmurs approvingly, stroking Shuhua's hair back from her face.

"Don't patronize me," Shuhua replies, then immediately goes back down on you.

They rotate. Pairs and trios. Somi finally takes her turn, and true to form, she's rough about it. She grabs the base and sucks hard, her tongue doing something cruel and brilliant against the underside of the head. When she pulls off, she spits on your cock and strokes it with both hands, spreading the saliva, then passes you to Yunjin, who takes you to the root in one smooth motion. She holds you in her throat, her nose pressed against your pelvis, her long tongue extending to lap at your balls while you're still buried in her mouth. Asa watches with genuine admiration.

"That's physically impressive," Asa says. "Like, anatomically."

Yunjin pulls off with a wet gasp and grins. "Talent, baby."

Ning and Chaeyoung work you together next. Chaeyoung on the shaft, Ning sucking your balls into her mouth one at a time, humming against them. Then Shuhua and Asa, Shuhua taking the head while Asa licks the base. Then Somi alone, because Somi doesn't share well, her massive tits pressed against your thighs as she bobs her head with aggressive speed.

Your legs are trembling. The gummy bear you ate before coming to the mall is doing its job. You can feel the pressure building, heavy and dense, your balls tight and aching with the volume they're carrying. Every rotation of mouths pushes you closer. Six different techniques, six different temperatures, six different rhythms. It's sensory overload.

Yunjin can tell you're getting close. She reads your body, the way your stomach muscles tighten, the way your breathing goes shallow. "He's almost there," she announces. "Everyone get in position."

The six of them arrange themselves in a tight semicircle on their knees, faces upturned, close together. Chaeyoung in the center with your glasses still perched on her face. Yunjin and Somi flanking her. Asa, Ning, and Shuhua filling in the gaps. Twelve eyes looking up at you. Six open mouths.

You wrap your fist around your shaft and start stroking. Fast, tight, your hand slick with six girls' spit. "Cum for us," Yunjin says, her tongue extended. "Give your little pornstars everything you've got. I wanna be dripping."

"Cover my face," Ning adds, licking her lips. "I want to taste it again. Give me what you gave me in the car."

Somi tilts her chin up. "Don't you dare miss me."

Chaeyoung just looks at you through your own glasses, her mouth open, waiting. She doesn't need to say anything. The image alone almost sends you over.

"Paint us pretty," Asa says. "All of us. Don't leave anyone out."

Shuhua closes her eyes and tilts her face upward. "I'm ready."

You cum. And the gummy delivers. The first rope hits Chaeyoung across the bridge of your glasses, splattering the lenses, dripping down onto her nose and lips. She gasps and keeps her mouth open, catching the next spurt on her tongue. You angle toward Yunjin and she catches a thick streak across her forehead and cheek, letting it drip down to her chin. She moans, savoring it.

You move to Somi and land a heavy load across her lips and jaw, cum sliding down her neck onto her collarbones and the tops of her breasts. She doesn't flinch. Doesn't blink. Just takes it.

Asa gets the next several spurts. Across her nose, her left cheek, her open mouth. She swallows what lands on her tongue and lets the rest sit on her skin. Ning leans in eagerly and catches a rope from her hairline all the way down to her chin, cum beading on her eyelashes. She licks it from the corner of her mouth and grins. Shuhua receives the final waves, thick streaks landing across her forehead and cheeks. She keeps her eyes closed through it, her lips parted, cum dripping from her jaw onto her bare chest.

And it keeps coming. The gummy turns what should be a normal orgasm into something absurd. You go back through the lineup, adding more to each face. A second coating on Chaeyoung's glasses, now completely opaque with cum. More on Yunjin's neck and tits. Another streak across Somi's parted lips. By the time you're finally spent, shaking, your hand still wrapped around your softening cock, all six of them are glazed. Thoroughly, comprehensively, disgustingly covered.

The store is silent for a moment.

Then Yunjin starts laughing. Then Ning. Then all of them. Chaeyoung takes the glasses off and holds them up, both lenses completely coated, and that sends everyone into hysterics.

"That was unreal," Asa says, wiping cum from her eyebrow. "Genuinely, medically, that shouldn't be possible."

"I told you guys, these gummy bears are straight-up magical. Holy shit,” Yunjin beams, cum dripping off her chin.

Somi examines the mess on her chest with raised eyebrows. "Okay. I take back what I said earlier. His cock is more than 'fine'."

Asa stands up first, grabbing her shirt from the floor. "Okay. This was incredible. But we need to get out of here before sunrise."

Shuhua freezes mid laugh. "How exactly are we getting out of here, by the way?"

Six girls exchange glances. A long, terrible silence.

Asa looks at Yunjin. "Please tell me you planned the exit."

Yunjin blinks. "My plan went as far as the orgy part. I figured we'd improvise after."

Somi turns to Shuhua slowly. "You're supposed to be the smart one. Please tell me you thought about this."

"The idea wasn't even mine!" Shuhua protests. "And if I were truly the smart one in this group, I wouldn't have come here at all. I was driven entirely by lust, which I am not proud of."

Chaeyoung wipes your glasses on the sheet and puts them back on. "I mean, to be fair, every single person here was driven by lust. Not one of us was thinking logically tonight."

Ning sits back on her heels and surveys the scene. Cum on their faces. A mattress stained beyond repair with squirt. A clearly vandalized store.

"This is fantastic. We're stuck in a mall with the evidence of multiple crimes on our bodies and on this three thousand dollar mattress."

Shuhua nods solemnly. "Yeah, we're done for. Roll credits. Little cartoon circle closing in around our faces and everything." She sighs. "'That's all, folks.'”

All six of them turn to look at you. Hopeful. Desperate, even. Ning clasps her hands together. "Please tell me you have an idea."

You look past them toward the back of the store. Storage area. Receiving dock. "The store's on the first floor. There's gotta be a back door for deliveries. Loading area that opens to the outside. And somewhere back there, a spare key or a push bar."

The relief on their faces is instantaneous. Shoulders dropping. Exhales all around. Yunjin throws her arms up. "See? No reason to panic. Everything was under control the entire time. I planned for this."

"You absolutely did not," Shuhua says flatly.

"Details. Minor details." Yunjin stretches her arms above her head and rolls her neck. Then she looks at you with that familiar, dangerous glint. "So. Who wants a second round?"

Chaeyoung sputters. "Now? Here? We literally just figured out how to escape."

"We have time! The back door isn't going anywhere. And neither is his dick." She gestures at you. "Look at him. He's already getting hard again."

She's not wrong. The gummy's still doing its job. Somi glances down, then looks back up at you. "You seriously got another round in you?”

You look at the six of them. Flushed, sweaty, ridiculously attractive. Still hanging around half delirious at two in the morning in a dark mattress store. Somehow this is reality now.

"For you guys," you say, "I think I can power through.”

Asa smirks. Somi rolls her eyes but she's already moving toward you. Yunjin claps once, saying, "Then it's settled. The night continues." She pushes you back onto the mattress and the rest of them follow, six bodies closing in around you, hands and mouths everywhere.

What happens next, you already know.

[kooyabooya]

cycles (this love i fear)

m reader x anna 19k words

There’s no flaw to this: attempting to dance with Anna yet again. 

She says you’re getting better, beaming her smile and acting as if all of this wasn’t a ruse to shield the burgeoning urge to touch each other beneath the underlying veneer of romanticism. 

The term ‘Romanticism’ might be a stretch in itself - at least you seem to believe so; who knows, you’re enamored in the classics - the art it presents. 

It’s another subject you want to learn more about. 

–

“Ready?” Anna asks you, anticipatory. 

You nod in compliance; the routine finally begins: 

First step: your right foot goes forward, Anna’s goes backwards - she’s one to seek first when you least expect it, falling under introspection- Step two: left foot goes to the side - Anna, like always, is adamant to introduce a new concept to you she discovers- 

Step three: right foot follows same pathing as the left - it’s something new (plausible), plus it’s something you’ll find intriguing (perhaps), and lastly I appreciate you trusting my ideas, a lot- 

Step four: left foot backwards, and Anna’s foot does your pathing now - and it adds the suggestion of how she paints these expressions - these stepping stones into her heart- 

Step five: right foot goes to the side - and you’re feeding into the curiosity because of the wanting to go beyond the nearness of each other- 

Final step: left foot trails behind - then suddenly, once the tension’s thickened to a point where it’s nearly suffocating, inches away from closing the space; you break away from kissing her, and the loop repeats- 

Like a neverending record - going on forever and ever; which in itself, is also a dance. You dance with Anna hoping to have the waltz embedded into the learning algorithm. Hope to eclipse the feelings, dangerously calculated to an eventual outcome. Before the new mission parameters were delivered, you browsed through Anna’s tarot cards since most of the checks were already completed by then. Diagnostics and readings were leveled; other amenities were stored properly. You’re coworkers, crewmates, two beings longing for warmth. Your reflection doesn’t see you any different. 

You remember the first time Anna offered to dance. Ignorant and dismissive aside, you couldn’t bring yourself to match her gaze. And it’s not often that you would dilute time into anything else outside of protocol, for one thing. 

At times, Anna would wander in the ship with her mind clouded with slumber and darkness, wearing her fleet’s blazer or some dusty jacket over her sleepwear - considering the Primrose was cold, and (as you’ve deduced) the nights were colder. It’s especially a rarity to see Anna’s bare shoulders, let alone the chapped lips up close and in detail, or question the thought that it's worrying to study her in a more intimate appearance. 

She’s not an object subjected for your pleasure. You know this well enough, and it’s all the more reason to not delve beyond that conclusion. 

You’ve exceeded in doing so. Countless cycles lost in the vastness of space until you felt her tongue clash against yours. Mistakes like that are what makes us human. 

Passionate. Engulfing. It had those two characteristics and so much more. Why wouldn’t it have more? It’s easy to notice in the exchanges you two share: explain to me how we get ahead of ourselves is one of the many caveats she presents, and soon your composure warbles away from common sense and nothing seems to compute. You have a hard time picking up the semantics and decoding because some of the terms are indiscernible, trying to process and understand. Another slow waltz, maybe. Don’t hide. It’s futile to try. Kiss me. 

Once everything eases, and the sweat subsides on the shores of skin faded into the covers of her bed. Your mouth slacks, frozen. Anna’s paintings: with a boat and two figures sitting inside, on the endless ocean, give a close interpretation of the threshold waiting to be passed - the Primrose’s mission, to be exact. 

Though Anna’s paintings are her stories - her soul, and you’ve looked there rather than her eyes. Found desperation and desire to escape. Left her quarters riddled with in her taste, and stare deep into the reflection of the mirror and feel the sticky gloss on your cheek. 

You’ve processed (and stabilized) the state of elation. Straying away from comfort you deemed as ‘unstable’. Though some aspects were appropriate, change was always an incalculable factor, therefore: unstable. States on the brink of war and terror were unstable. Unstable synapses firing in your brain seeing Anna’s nightgown in its sheer appearance. You have trouble computing the idea of her - how you want her, and quite literally: all of her.

-

(Here’s what you did since the kiss: going through the log of reports and requests that were for her eyes only. Countless days and hours in the mission and Anna’s been far removed in being professional (and luckily, it’s just you and the computer receiving these messages): 

> status report, Anna Tanaka, quoting on the screen: "unfortunately ive decided to not care and will not read the attachments sent to me.” 

> service inquiry, Anna Tanaka, about the sudden drop in oxygen levels, quoting: “so what if i don’t breathe, one of us will be alive anyway.”

> mission advisory, Anna Tanaka, at approximately 00:00 hours, quoting: “what if we just steer this fucking ship off into the burning sun representing our love, huh?” 

You are both idiots. As Anna would allegedly claim.)

–

Thankfully, you’ve disciplined yourself in running through the usual checks, rather than acting like you don’t know what’s going on. 

In your discovery, this would’ve been the perfect time to do that order from a few megacycles ago: get in the spacesuit and fix that shitty panel that kept blinking on the monitor while getting tangled with the cable while laughing with Anna about how dense you were about your emotions; say a shitty comeback about Anna’s bedside manner and justify the warning was from a few scrapes of damage left by the small debris when traveling through the rings of Indiga (eloquently summarized in your readings back to mission control): “we had to adjust our course to help compensate for the trajectory of the planet’s ring pathway.” 

Once that was done, now you could debug the Primrose’s balance from the cockpit. No way to tell when you might make landfall at the next world nearby. What might happen when Anna steps off the ramp without any protective gear on; finds out the ground is incredibly toxic, and melt right off the face of the planet. 

–

Anna insisted on going outside, but you rejected the suggestion and took her place instead. 

Venturing into an atmosphere mixing the pressurized gas of the decompression chamber - the sub-zero temperatures acting as a good barrier to start in creating space. New objective: distance yourself ; keep focus and all thoughts rational.

You wander and think while crossing the icky, green fog blending into the hills. 

In doing so, you helplessly think about her. 

–

When you return. She’s wearing the same nightgown from before. 

“You’re back!’ Standing in the middle of the sliding door watching you dust off the collective dirt on your arms. “Do you wanna practice dancing again?” 

Twisting your gaze, she leans forward, the strap skating off her shoulder. It’s a brief moment in the dialogue - the one running through your head, frozen at the request. “I think you got it this time.” Anna’s so willing - I know, I’m overbearing, letting you do these things out of tempo as we’re kissing, so please- I beg- and she’s frightfully intentful in making it worse. 

Intentful for one thing, yet thrilling for someone like her to be ambitious - making you fold in a game of poker while she held her hand (a pair when you bought her bluff), and it’s simple to deduce all other hypotheticals as well. She’s a bug in your line of code, manifested to to defy all rational calculations. How she easily reads what you tell - even more horrifying to be solved and understood. 

She makes you feel like a human being; help defy your maker that much more difficult. 

–

So, again- 

You’re dancing with her. She praises the improvement, humming. You’re not stepping on her feet as much compared to the first time. Every step and move is carried with precision, sometimes hazy and fritzing the logic; falter one motion, and your hand slides lower to the divots on her back. 

“I still have trouble understanding,” you tell her, “The significance of dancing on Toyama.” 

Anna slots herself at your arms and middle, blinking. She doesn’t say anything to answer, going through the steps, saying, “it’s an intimate connection with the person you like.” 

Swaying left, then right, your feet do the same. Her skin touching feels electric. “Somewhat answers my question,” you drawl, hesitant, “doesn’t help the prolonged eye contact, though.” 

“Like what you see?” 

“I’d prefer to consider it uncouth.” 

Anna shelters her smile. “Here I thought wearing this gown would get you more curious.” 

Your foot skates forward on accident. Faltering. Stumbling. This dance, you presume, isn’t entirely subtle - the same could be said for coming up with a lousy alibi, too - but it would be extremely unordinary for either of you to take the long way ‘round in the space with each other. Any flash of impatience simply taints the comforting moments, and you’re not willing to try. 

“You still believe I’m not bad news for you?” She asks, pressing closer; your hand holding hers and the warmth so close. A finger brushes her cheek and the touch sensitive, makes you wonder about the adversities her mind and figure has gone through to get to this moment. I could’ve fucked you off if I wanted to, she probably would’ve said, the weight frugal and heavy in her words. You blank out and don’t actually answer, which leads to Anna lecturing another lesson: “In Toyama,” she starts, “dancing has a very special meaning, one that transcends beyond connections. It’s dangerous to the point that the practice had to be prohibited by the nation.” 

Though you shake your head at that. The State didn’t have a say in this setting at all. You ponder and get inquisitive. “Why would it pose a threat in the first place?” 

“Unity,” answers Anna. “With dance-” lifted into a spin and your raised arm, and the surroundings start to blur in your optics, “it’s not just the bodies joining as one. Your hearts, too. Linking that forms a bond, and binds all of us together. Yet the State seems to think otherwise.” 

“Destabilization and discord, yes?” 

“Not exactly. I was thinking more of being- intimate,” she chuckles. “Think of it as dissension and intimacy going up against facism. We’d be probed by others because it’s so foreign.” 

Here your feet and hers start to mirror. Then the thought of being intimate creeps into your mind, how your build isn’t meant for it - the design is flawed - you can’t help but feel automatically dejected because of it. Being curious about yourself has left you so disappointed that it can’t even be self-pleasure let alone masturbation. Your body is desperately wanting to be something more than just an object at rest - something more, something that can not be at rest. 

Tilting your gaze, Anna reflects. “Maybe the Higher One is seething at us making the most of this journey,” you smirk. 

“I believe so. They can’t relate to us,” she says. “We’re impossible to punish, and willing to defy; every step in dance is just a symbiosis of angling the bodies together, counting and feeling the music-” 

“There you go again, Anna. God, you really can’t help yourself.” You huff, which rewards a hearty laugh out of her.

“What?! Did you hear what you just said?” You notice the twinkle in her brown eyes when she knows she’s unbearably bewitching. “I’ve been teaching you the wrong thing - do you see your feet? Why are they matching mine? They’re both the same?” 

“I find the humor to be confusing, still.” 

“You’re still stuttering behind me, and listening to my terrible rendition of reciting literature,” says Anna. “I find you to be adorable and want to show my affection by never losing you.” 

You agree. Of course I don’t want you to let go of me, but the physical aspect of your body and hands meeting hers is still a work in progress. Which can also be noticed in being gullible to her antics and the ugly handwriting of practicing Kanji she wanted you to try every now and then. 

“The letters change the whole meaning of the word,” you say. “Now I know there’s a difference between ‘go’ and ‘ko’ depending on the context.” 

Anna’s laugh fills your ears. “I commend you for the effort.” Her heels are above the floor with a chaste kiss to your lips - deliberate, but full of life, she could’ve worn a different garment without being aware of shifting fabric morphing to her figure. It’s that, and how she would’ve done a different activity rather than dancing without welcoming the risk. You try your best to guess her next move before she makes it, which ends up failing every single time. 

At the corner of your eyes: memories of a time long past, the blend of thick and thin lines tearing like a faulty television screen. Flickers, you’ve deduced. Visions of a love finally found - a love finally complete. 

One step to the side, then back. Your frame bends to her will and you wished it was the ship’s hull instead, because it was pointless to compute. For someone that isn’t really you - it can be discouraging as a clone- 

To hell with all of that. 

“Do that again,” Anna instructs, requesting a spin. 

And you comply. 

Her dress slithers off at the shoulders, uncovering skin healed from scratches and bite marks. Holding back was an option you deeply thought about, and might’ve been the right choice the other night. You did hold back and restrain from doing any more damage, but the urge can easily break like glass, and things like that are meant to be destroyed. 

The first spin request flows her hair so nicely, and you repeat the same move because it’s enjoyable. Because she’s beautiful. And because this moment might be captured in this floating time capsule across space. Her firm body against fragile threads; the move slips the strap down to her arm. Anna giggles. Tugs it back with two fingers onto her collar. 

Aw. You see her eyes dart at the porcelain skin. I meant to do that. 

You pull her close. Raise her left hand to your right. “You’re not fooling anyone,” she announces flatly. 

“What?” 

Anna’s eyes squint, “Staring at what happened. I saw that,” it’s a careless praise. 

“Why yes,” you nod proudly. Explaining isn’t a thought when you’re deeply influenced (and to her eyes, she finds you cuter like this). Being irrational is also against your logic, but it’s really nothing but these ideas: pinning Anna to the wall behind you and kissing her, or getting her on your lap (to kiss her) before she drops to her knees (and spreading your legs); the simplicity of yielding to addictive temptation fueled by her intentions, strip her singular garment and watch as the color blossoms on her skin. It’s all leveled. You’re swaying one side of the room with her. Left foot out, right foot follows. Right foot out, left foot follows. Continuously. There isn’t a reason for you to keep your mouth closed around her, and soon you feel your voice tightening with one end grasping to rational thought, as the other tied between Anna’s fingers. 

She sees it in your face; the lump forms in the throat. “Having fun, my love? Happy?” 

“Very,” you say. Grinning, drunk on her uplifting gaze. “Not sure how much I can keep myself together.” Being honest can also be a mistake, too. To that, Anna smiles: she knows, and it’s horrifying. “Because you want me,” she deduces, guiding your arms down to her hips. You hold them there. It’s awfully cute how she has to get on her tiptoes to try to whisper. “The tension’s rising higher between us, yes?” “It’s because,” you sigh, “you’re incapable of persuading.” Your name rings through your ears, every tap of her fingertips is a new surge of electricity. Soon her palm is on your cheek; you keep staring down. “Hey, hey- my eyes are here.” The fine beauty is all in the details: the gentle blush canvased across her cheeks, the humble glow on her chest; with the cool air running through the hull, her nipples poke through the nightgown. Behind those pretty lashes and eyes is a constellation that’s gentle and inviting. The real fine beauty above everything is the balance of arousing need she exudes that seems to match, well- yours. 

Anna taps your cheekbone, giggling. “It’s impressive that you’re failing to realize the effect I have on you.” She makes you feel small - not in fear, but in the rush of reality. “Your gambit rarely succeeds in holding up to mine; with my desires, at least.” Here - the lingering thoughts of regret are snuffed out. You’ve played her games full of deception and bluffs over the little things, and this wasn’t any different. When you finally speak, your jaw is trembling. “I’ve done my best to- stay composed and professional.” 

Despite this, Anna’s face winces; her body seizes as she starts to break. “This again,” her voice seethes, “if you really stopped giving a fuck about control, you would push me down, rip off my skirt, we would both get the same thing in the end.” You stop her movements, and the dance ends. The grip on her wrist grows steel tight. “Anna,” and her eyes roll back at the hiss passing your teeth. “God- fuck. How can you be so fucking straightforward?” “Because I am,” she answers, pushing off. Not meeting her in the eyes is equally painful. “Mind you, that wasn’t a request. I’m being vocal about what I want- what I’m begging for.” Memories come flashing back in flickers: you, spent, uncontrollable - this revolving game with Anna; like the main rockets shot the Primrose deep into the unknown corners of space, there wasn’t a way back home to where things were normal - and honestly, why should either of you care?

You and her can’t help yourselves. Unbridally kissing with flung arms over each other.

The only thing you hear above the smacked lips is the occasional beeping of the flight controls. This new abode - now one with the stars.

Her lips push you back and you’re matching it. Two days ago, Anna was ecstatic to discover your tongue; feel the subtle clack of teeth - her lovely laugh when she’s riddled with bite marks after figuring out all the forms your bodies meld together. Even now - it’s an unknown concept in itself, still- that control was still a possible option to consider.

“It’s not fair - how perfect you are,” praises Anna, thumb grazing beneath your eyes. “Why are you so-”

“You’re beautiful, it’s fucking absurd,” you compliment. Simple, for one, but it makes her smile brighter, and the talk is pointless when all you want to do is make out with her.

Anna gets you good with her mouth. How they slot themselves against yours, easy to pass air between them before it’s all suffocated in teeth and tongue. The only thing that splits your being apart is the fact that you can’t sweat and she can. You have an automated pulse, unlike hers which is real. Blood does not rise in your skin compared to Anna’s; you can’t resonate the same electricity flowing through her body at the merest graze of your fingers that makes her shudder- There’s a reason to be vocal here, to communicate. Actually, you should communicate and speak up; since you haven’t a clue what you’re doing at all.

You pause and pull back. “Wait,” you slip out in a rush, “what are we even doing?” Anna sighs with an inward lip, catching the spit left behind on her chin. “What do you think we’re doing? Being straightforward. Intrusive- shit, when isn’t a time where I wanted to keep kissing you?”

“Maybe we- ugh.” No point in reasoning: you have to shut her up. “I’m not even sure about-” “So what if we’re overcomplicating it, hm?”

“If we are-” her lips are back smacking in between words, “there wouldn’t be a reason to reflect on it at all.”

“That’s it,” says Anna. Kissing you fervently. “I want this- let me-” It’s impulsive - infectious, even. It doesn’t click in your mind once she’s pinned you to the beam of the cargohold, raising your arms. You let that happen. Are you allowed to want it? Would you be okay to rethink your existence and your place in this life? Giving everything beyond your body? For her? Plus- isn’t she your fucking captain?

The conversation bleeds into physical touches. Perhaps your questions may serve more purpose through your bodies, but you find a pointless question worth asking: “is this okay for me? To do this?”

“Kiss me again. Hard.” Anna commands. You kiss her, she kisses back. “Touch me. Play with my body.” Her mouth presses to yours once more. “Reject this if you want, I’ll keep begging, please-” she stops halfway and meets your eyes, “make me yours, as you never want to let me go-”

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me.” Pinching the hem, and all you see is the skin of her exposed thigh. “This is the right way to wear this, for your information.”

She lifts the fabric like it’s the final barrier of your restraint.

Anna’s tongue slips into your mouth sweetly, fingers joining yours. She’s putting everything on the balls of her feet and submitting you to her will. All of your thoughts - your words; hell, you could even include the whole damn ship with it - these pretty, meaningless thoughts quell within your throat. Nothing could ever predict this, the shifting dynamic in the rising power and diminishing submission, just the pure desire and lustful look beneath those eyes.

Her leg slots between yours. Mistake #1: you slip down the wall. Mistake #2: you’ve fallen to the floor where Anna has to kneel (on your lap). Her body has a mind of its own when she settles down and the dress is spread between her thighs and the fabric rises at the crease of her leg. Past the harsh liplocks, the teeth get involved, biting. Accidentally first and soon on purpose. You like to brand her body that way, tug the roots of her hair and hear her gasp into your mouth.

“Bed- I need you in my bed, now.” Anna says with urgency. The catch here is that she doesn’t move nor allow you to move. Judgment is a small choice, but it’s nowhere to be found: neither logical or one to seek an agreement towards. Planning could never happen even if you tried. The same could be said for the ideas since they’re fizzled into kisses once you breathe a single word, laced in the dripping spit on your chins or suffocated in your throats entirely. Your mouths are one way to be inside each other.

The floor remains cold, uncomfortable. Not having Anna’s mouth on yours or the other way around for a few seconds - by your shared preference - is much, much worse that it’s not even sought after.

“-pretty, so pretty,” you praise - and, possibly the only thing you can say to Anna. She shuts you up. Stop- stop talking. I fucking need you.

Finding the breakthrough, and there’s a middle ground: your leg high up the opening where she hunches over to your chest, gasping in reverence. Finally. Her teeth find places on your neck and shoulder to bite. She’ll taste iron and polyethylene, but in the subconscious, you’ll feel it; unlike the other memories in movies and polaroids and the many, many emotional breakdowns you’ve experienced in this spot before - the moment is warm, and very comforting. In its full, real rawness.

“Baby,” Anna groans. She says the pet name in a string of others amongst the actual one. The real name is really the only secret of yours she has some relent towards. You realize Anna’s small frame: how the slopes of her ribs deviate and the vertebrae compressing when she’s tense, the fragility of it is reckless against yours, and your hands are having a fun time in the forward and back movement, grinding.

You keep kissing Anna, kiss her to the point where she can barely breathe and her voice doesn’t go beyond a whimper. Nibble her bottom lip, then the skin around it. Her nails, although chewed, would mark indents of crescent moons into your back or create sketches of red - or you’d wish that’d be the case if you had skin like hers, but she’ll leave her scars elsewhere. Studying her expressions lost in the rapture of you is enough; the grind on your leg is already enough. The desire she exudes is purely authentic, unadulterated, clearly seen in the places she wants to seize- it’s fucking you up. You’re belittled to nothing but a person with disintegrating ideas you once thought about her: how these assumptions may all be a façade, these contradictory wishes, you being too dull, too cold or insensate, too- artificial.

Anna cums. She cums all over your leg. The second it happens surprises you both. Your uttered name is no more than a sound following a seeping moan into your chest. Her head falls forward: shattered, breathless, her body goes loose; her sobbing eyes and cunt wetting you, her delicate fingers, and that dangerous, dangerous mouth - it’s- a lot, too much, unbearable, you hold her, hold her up until-

“Fuck. I-” she sputters, tense at the shoulders. “Why am I-” All of a sudden, she’s- laughing? “I’m the worst. I’m a fucking whore.”

Hesitant to move, you keep your hands to her hips. Blotches of a light purple will blossom in the form of your fingertips. You’re stuck processing the entire occurrence still. “Well that’s-” you barely get out (and your voice is static), “-adorable. Very adorable of you, Anna.” “Yeah,” says Anna, shaikily. “Sorry, uh- I didn’t mean to do that. On you.”

You purse your lips, smirking. “Just taking care of things.”

Anna lets the rest of the weight fall onto you. She likes to hit your forehead with her own; for affection. Exhaustion is a quiet intimacy, and you breathe her in, observe (omit the interaction) the beads of sweat and little baby hairs on her hairline, the cute blush of pink below her eyes, the tiny hairs she’s missed while shaving. The strings on her dress from behind are tangled in a disorganized web: meticulous, but the former since it was impossible for it to be done by her hand. Before the program, you learned that her mother was a seamstress - pledging to an endeavor of exploration in the Primrose with a blank map into the unknowns. You assume she wanted to feel sexy (sometimes). Like she knew that touching herself would be a surefire way to pass time, and you’re curious enough to find more secrets about her.

There were countless times when the secrets were revealed. There was always a reason behind them; learning how an orgasm was plausible enough for Anna to call herself a whore, for example, and while the term may be loaded, it’s possible to think that there’s more to the word. Reasons for behaviors tend to have thorns, and (complexity aside) it’s the best judgement to never expand on them.

Anna’s second kiss is quick. Heavy. Sensual. Dials back the desperation, lets the intimacy simmer there, separating when she can and joining when she’s ready for more, not closing her eyes all the way. Her hand cradles your face before it drifts down to your chest, the fine muscle at your abs, staying there. Slowly. Graciously. Unintentional.

Her fingers skate over where the sensation of touch is still foreign. Diverted away from how she holds your face, Anna’s presence is a binary yes or no with no nuance or eroticism. She breathes color into aspects where they lack, and it’s the irony in your tragic existence: the cryptic soldier riddled with trauma you’ve adopted would have yearned for the goodness between her thighs, in the same fashion you’ve shared the longing for a dysphoric body like hers, if only you could feel anything.

Unlike that version of you in a past life, you’ll abstain from making the same mistake and leap at the chance to live through your partner, and it’s a choice you won’t regret making.

Anna rejected any kind of that delirious thought. “Join me, on my bed. Please, I need you,” she says. Her voice is spent. It takes nearly the little strength she had left, hobbling and soon crumpling in a way her dress exposes the remaining arousal stained on her legs.

Fuck. You rasp in deprecation. “Anna. Anna?”

No response.

“Anna?” Anna repeats.

Your mouth slacks. Being clinical about sex wasn’t the best case to carry on from committing such an act, but for insurance. “Hey. You have to tell me- and I understand if you’re feeling hesitant, but-” your hands are doing this gesture like you’re explaining complete nonsense, and maybe it is complete nonsense. You can’t talk dirty to the girl for your life- “may I- and how you say, perhaps clean you up with consent?” 

Anna laughs, incredulous. She gives an ‘why do you even have to ask so cutely’ face. “Are you kidding?” The eye smile and shattering grin is teetering towards insanity, and her voice trembles. “Look at me.” You blink through it. “Look at what you did to me- honey, I’m fucking dripping-” 

Impulse floods your brain like an ocean sinking you to the bottom. Freezing awkwardness creeps in at the same time. There’s no denying it: you want to taste her. Pick her up from the floor and fling her into the mattress and feel her quivering cunt throb over your tongue. Things would be a lot easier to take your cock inside her on the matter - but your fingers will have to do for now - a lazy attempt where the memories of your prior versions have had the same feeling too- -then it all spins in your head. Anna’s palm flat on your chest, pushes you upright. “Stop.” Fuck- you didn’t mean to- that wasn’t supposed to happen. Did you fuck up? “You’ve got something there,” she points. “On your leg.” You part your legs further as she kneels to lick her own cum off your thigh. The sound released from your mouth exemplifies the break in composure. You’re sure it echoed into the ship. It’s just the two of you, after all. The overarching notion of subtlety - if any  remained - dissipates into the air. Slow, intimate, romantic sex is fun and unattainable until it’s a thing you no longer want - even when your figure is hollow and all you can do is fuck your psychology into her till her body breaks. Sex is another way of communication; to fuck with someone equally as it’s fucking them. The dynamic resets; a passion reignited. You grasp at Anna’s hair. “Look at you, just a fucking-” and whore would be too on the nose, too nice. Slut is a good reach, but the intent is deep in the actions (and embarrassingly so), she grins right back. “Baby.” Anna calls, playful. She’s pretty when she’s on her knees. “We do it your way. How ‘bout I clean you up and have my own fun-” it stops short with a hum and a bit lip, you’re smiling along with her, absurdly. Someone like her can be embarrassing without bite, but she lets it be known. You’re both idiots; sex is a silly thing to inherit, and that’s exactly how this will go. “Yes please,” you confirm - it’s improv at this point, fancying a gamble and nervous about what's to come. “Please.”

The script flips. Anna’s tongue laps the spot where her clit would be, but it’s your cock. She lifts back, slightly. Her kisses are wet and real. Now your arousal is the gravity and past the event horizon, succumbing to its merciless pull. You struggle to believe this is fiction. Watching Anna’s face, when she lets you see it, one full of curiosity that you disregard the deficiencies of your body, leave it as your cap on her nightstand the next morning. You’ll come back to get the insecurities later, when everything’s settled. Anna peppers a kiss to your underside, her breath canvasing the crown. Some of her slick is still on her chin and now on the shaft (another believable fiction, if you will). She doesn’t use her hands (not yet), and has her way of working you up with just her mouth, like a toy. You stare right at the impasse of her sweet lips past the tip and halfway, and you don’t tense. The more she sinks, the more spit sprinkles down her neck and onto the fabric every time she gags . She knows to keep you here for an eternity, and she might just do that. Hell, the silence you had earlier returns in your throat, harboring a newly refined tension. “God, do you realize how good you taste right now?” Anna asks (again, believable) - and she’s aware that it’s rhetorical. Fantasizing your being in an actual body with a beating heart (this is a small testament to your dilemma); if Anna truly loved you - she’s yet to say it, but there is no other explanation - if she loves you, she does- she will. (At the same moment: a gate appears. The point of origin, and you don’t question it. Now wasn’t the time to think back the life before-) Anna spits on your shaft, her hand coming into play. “Is this okay? You didn’t move.” 

You’re not entirely there, and she’s right. The image of the gate goes to the back of your mind, looking at Anna. She has a hand under her gown, fingering herself. Indulgence with her is shameless, and pitifully adorable; she knew it wouldn’t take her that long to resort to such lengths. This is also the first time you’ve seen her where the roles are reversed, where she’s got her head between your legs and not the other way around: purely genuine the way her mouth feels around you. It’s new. Of course you fucking like it. “Good?” asks Anna, thumb tapping your slit and a thick bead of precum weeps. The slight slide of her palm leaves you in a breathless response. “Fuck.” Say something else, goddamit. Sure, it’s unoriginal, for how you’re uncovering these masked emotions. You’re begging- like her, sighing in rapture, humming in this somber swan song. “Anna, god-” Don’t stop. You begged to keep going. Anna then spreads your thighs wider. Your head hits the wall. Her drool’s coated all over your cock. Moaning is all you basically do underneath her hand. You don’t feel anything; this doesn't affect you (well; it’s making you shiver - which, in turn - it’s affecting you). Her: spit-stained all over her gown, wearing it in a way that’s more intimate than being naked. In what’s another handiwork well crafted by her standards: the fact she hasn’t revealed much (yet). She’s being cruel, you think. The squelch of her folds parted by her fingers makes you ball your fists, almost to make the polyethylene tear when the purrs from her throat bombard your cock, how she’s only doing this to painfully remind you of how delicately you want to fuck her. You realize, when she cups your balls with her other hand- “Does this feel good?” She murmurs into your tip, corkscrewing the sensation. 

Yes. The nodding is actually pathetic. You’re losing grip between fantasy and reality; it’s incredibly easy how that happens, like jumping off a cliff or setting your body on fire. “My good baby,” Anna praises, swallowing your tip between her lips. “Should I keep going?” “Yes, yes,” you’re saying, and she never fails to submit you to her will. There’s a groan and maybe a holy fuck- Her grip tightens. The shift from friction to slick wriggles your spine, arching in a sense of cumming had you imagined the experience to go this way a few nights ago. You have pieces scattered - between machine and repurposed flesh - not far from their origin; with those parts making you flawed, it motivates you (in that human nature) to seek that. “My lovely girl,” you compliment Anna, stroking her hair as she bobs down. A surprise on her end, sending vibrations along your shaft. Easy to tell she’s enjoying this as well, but will somehow find an excuse to say otherwise, be in denial- Tell me, tell me how good this feels, she might say, or have already said. Tell me how much of a fucking slut I am for you. Anna pops her mouth off, licking her lips. “Don’t be so tense,” she tells you, her tone dazed, “relax, okay? Just- let me have this. Don’t force it further. I want you to fall.” (You think back to the gate; failing to understand it still, but it’s not the first time you’ve set foot here. Despite its grandeur appearance being unknown, you do know this: it’s a cornerstone to the person (rather, persons) you might’ve been before. At times, the bleeding memories, triggered by chance or in a random instance, and you’ve felt the thought swallow you whole. Love, sadness, and anger, adjacent with a gunshot wound, tattered skin torn from stained metal, leaving you in an anguish so pure it emulates the form of a primrose. It’s always dangerous to stand in this headspace - and the pleasure was always a perilous catalyst.) Once past that barrier, the separation between you and your previous versions stretch and thin, divided in the conflict of perception and transformation. That too, is a dangerous game, but with Anna she instills you with such confidence; you’ve learned through her, you’re allowed to want, and harness that want. Her, the idea of her, her body, her being- it’s a rope falling short out of your reach, a hope to grasp your mind back from above and onto her hands and lips- “Anna, god- you’re so good at that,” you moan when she has her lips pressing right at the base, swirling her tongue underneath. An affirmation made true ascending fiction. When she moves her eyes, adoring, proffering, its perfection in all rights. You’ve seen so many expressions from her; here’s one more for you. Fall for it, Anna’s eyes tell you, fall for me. Anna gasps off with strings of spit and precum laced on her mouth. “I know you love when I do that, please- keep telling me.” Oh, you’re in love with her, but the conclusion isn’t absolute; an answer to an inevitable question. Fucking is equal as living in the present, dancing with no grace is equal as to not dancing at all. You are going to be a mess; a mess with her. You will experience the highest of highs in this endless journey with her, and eventually- You’re going to gracelessly fall from everything. –

(Your subconscious slips into a momentary dream again, replaying multiple occurrences: 

memory playback #1: (target breaker five seven twelve jack) SOS, danger, achtung, error error error - a phrase called upon the last time you truly wanted to be free. You taste a tinge of gunmetal in the kiss. Amidst the desecrated land where peace hardly rests on the crushed stone. You’ve had ideas of crushes before but they never burned or ripped your heartstrings apart like this. memory playback #2: water fills the space where the concrete once stood. A haven- the place where all the nightmares have failed to touch. You fall into the ocean, drown in both exhaustion and exhilaration. Soon, you’re cradling Gawon, on her back, watch her hair blossom into a halo over the saltwater, ignore the fact you might be sinking as you both kiss and kiss and kiss recklessly, see the flame beneath her shimmering eyes and when she finally cums you both feel human- memory playback #3: Gawon leads you to a greenhouse (rather, what’s left of it) near a library; a moment passes, and all of your fractured shards are their own being, in multitudes: your genderbent body next to her female body, the faint hum of the cicadas in the distance subjected to their own repertoire. You wonder if this is what real love feels like- 

-but you also think: are you really worthy enough to be cherished for one so filled with such faults? 

memory playback #4: her long, dainty fingers carve into your back the same fashion yours did to her waist. These scars are going to last forever and somehow you’re okay with it. It’ll be the same as hers. The claws of war never asked permission to ruin your body but Gawon did it anyway, fueled by lust and worry mixed in her eyes. How desperate they were, as she’ll deliver the killing blow with the singular bullet in the chamber- 

memory playback #5: her hand claims your neck as she sinks onto your cock, suffocating you until there’s resistance - like you’re her sacrifice in a ritual. She swipes a line of red on your cheek and the clutch on your heart is nearly lethal- 

memory playback #6: smoke fills the air across ruined infrastructures, old base camps, even the bombarded bunkers. Small pebbles of rubble fall from your back until it’s against the concrete, Gawon’s mouth attacking you viciously (plus there’s never been an instance where you two have fucked if it wasn’t laced with an ounce of desperation). Her tongue clashing yours, forcibly hollowing your cheeks with every suck and all you want is to reciprocate the same feeling, please her, share this feeling, to revel in the connection and disparity of your bodies communicate, shove a few fingers deep in her cunt and fuck your cum into it the next, call her everything but sweet- you fucking slut, my good little girl- “Now now, puppy,” Gawon tells you, palm flat against your mouth, her hot cunt pilfering what’s left for the taking with your cock, caressing her walls over every possible inch she can get, “i’m allowing you, it’s okay. Letting you fill my pussy. How much it wants your fucking cum-” 

Oh, it’s twisted. You have to look at her; you’ve got no other choice. She tips your chin up with a finger and it barely does anything with her gyrating hips, grinding the length down until it pokes her womb. Gawon hasn’t even lifted her hips once, yet the edge would be damming had it been the other way around with the thrusts, but you’re close. She pulls a lock of hair over her ear as she sinks for another kiss, and your legs are fucking shaking; most of the sounds coming out of you are inhumane, let alone robotic. “Tell me what you want,” she hushes, whimpering - the blade cuts both ways. 

“God-” you say, it’s muffled into Gawon’s hand. “Just do it, please. You want this just as badly as I want it,” and the merciful act she commits is raising her hips and feel the weight of her ass slam back down to your balls.

And the next thing she does which may seem unnecessary (but it rewires your brain chemistry because of how dashing she looks doing it) is with the finger to the corner of her mouth and gazing down with every pleading blink you give her - each time you beg or say please and fight against her pressure, arch your back while the waves of pleasure get more treacherous to handle. You can’t breathe with every impasse and slam of her cunt gliding and grinding until she finally has what she wants inside her womb.) 

You blink and suddenly the world shifts again. Anna, oh fuck. Your back arches with hers, then you hunch forward into her chest, pulling her with you to the floor. Soft skin riddled in bruises and clenched fingers. Then there’s the heaving and your voice tearing between breaths, spilling out curses the same rate as Anna would in a normal conversation (but it gets a laugh out of you, adorably) - while all of this may be silly, settling with ease: the accomplishment of diving into your body’s memories without staying in one headspace (a major plus), sharing this pleasure with Anna (an even better plus). To your best judgement, there’s no plausible reasons in your system that could explain cumming mush-fucked brain out on the floor; it’s enticing, fuck- you wonder the indulgence, how long it took to get your cock spent. 

A blessing it can be, to have someone like Anna take up your attention for that long. Maintaining that from the very beginning: that first cycle where the Primrose’s hyperdrive was primed and ready, staring into space with the biggest smile imaginable; to be so forward in creating the everlasting loop of you; in this space where it takes two, to become one. (memory playback #7: “Don’t be surprised by this,” Gawon tells you offhandedly, even though the tears streaming down her face says otherwise. “But I’m an idiot for being in love with you.”) 

It’s a lot to handle, for sure. “Anna,” you groan. She’s on you still, with the slightest move of her hips and you can’t stop your legs from shaking, warming up her cold body the only way she knows how (because she really- really, can’t help herself in embedding you inside) and the floor grows colder and “Anna,” with a lot more urgency, since her chest is to yours and her hips are elevated. “Fuck- baby, I’m- I’m gonna cum in you.” “I know,” says Anna, lips hot to your ear. “I love it when you’re like this: so perfect for me and ready to burst.” 

You reach for something, anything to grab - for your hand to clutch on as her hot cunt grinds through your load filling her up, and Anna takes it upon herself to use her own hand to hold yours. Her fingers still slicked from touching her folds, and you’re grinding teeth to keep yourself sane instead of cleaning them dry. All you can do is lay there and feel her fuck herself on your cock like a toy, petting you, praising, calling you these sweet names, tracing the line of your jaw. “Christ. What have you done to me?” You chuckle, defeatedly. There’s a stutter in the sentence. Almost resonating Anna’s emotions - very cutely, too. “Refining your brain chemistry,” she suggests. Blowing into your ear to mask the sound of your cock gushing into her pussy. “It’s a long and arduous process. Not as easy as wind passing through the ears.” 

“Can you like-” there’s a choke and a laugh, “-shut the fuck up?!” Absurd as it might’ve sounded, you’re aware what she meant: her blowing you on her own bed before falling onto the floor and fucking without a second thought; your coworker, your captain- cumming inside your fucking captain - okay, there’s a lot to unpack, but you sigh tirelessly. “How long has it been since we-” “Fucked?” Anna looks at you funnily, because your circadian rhythm wasn’t something to be questioned nor talked about. “Give or take an hour or two,” giggling with a finger between her teeth. Adorable. “That was nonstop, by the way.” 

“Another round, then?” you say. Rolling your eyes in embarrassment. “Maybe if we have a sliver of self control the break would have come sooner.” 

“Ugh, how scandalous,” Anna coos. You realize that she’s got your cock inside her still, unwilling to move. Basking in the light afterglow. Comparing sex to a beaming moonlight or orgasms to waves isn’t remote, but the shores of oblivion aren’t that damning if she’s sharing the same burdens as you. 

“Oh please,” you whistle, poking Anna’s belly. “Someone’s a little hungry.” 

“Yeah that,” she replies, kissing you. She kisses you again. Both of your bodies are spent and heavy. “Why is it that when I’m this riled up, and I’m having an angry craving because of it. What am I supposed to do?” 

You smirk, let your head hit the cool floor, tilting your chin by Anna’s fingers until she slips a thumb between your lips in the hope the taste stays. “A tragedy,” you breathe. “Even Sisyphus or Odessyus can resonate.” 

“Swan,” grumbles Anna. “I could hop back on your cock if I wanted to, but I’m doing everything to hold myself back.” 

“Commiseations to you for being so highly restrained,” you drawl. 

Anna refutes by pecking you on the forehead before she loosely rises to her feet. You admire her responsibilities in not letting lust take over her body - as you remained motionless to not grab an arm and tug her down. From the floor, you see Anna’s legs: her knees, specifically, how they’re tainted red and look battered, impressed at the functionality of them since the recovery would take a while after what you two did. Your cock doesn’t flex, but it does. 

“Leave me here,” you then say, as a request, quick to answer Anna’s tilted brow before she messes up in asking it. “You said you were hungry, so if you stay here, one of us is going to break, and you’ll be sad and even more hungry and the next round is gonna be terrible and you’ll get in a more pissy attitude.” 

Anna goes motionless, flaring her nostrils but exemplifying the due diligence. “You can kiss your sleep schedule goodbye, then.” 

“Fine by me, hehe-” you smile. “Anna, you’re amazingly beautiful. Did I ever tell you that?” 

“Little dove,” she answers with a lowered gaze, on one knee - both of you know that one more move or touch would be paramount to disregard basic needs and thrive in the exploration of your bodies. “God- fuck. You really gone and done it-” her hands are on her head, “No, stop. Don’t do this.” It’s taking everything in her brain power to resist. “I need to eat, shower, and clean up the quarters. We have a lot to do tomorrow, and on our next location so why don’t we just go rest-” 

“I need my midnight cravings,” you then offer, fingers trembling at the graze of her cheek. “I need- everything that has to do with you, please.” 

You watch Anna stumble back and trip on your cap, bracing an arm to the hallway. “I- oh!” she’s smiling with her head to the beam. “I can’t with you - being so fucked beyond belief. I really can’t do this- oh my god, ugh. Why are you like this? Why am I so hungry? I swear I can eat on my own without you spoonfeeding me!?” She’s rambling and the voice fades (thank goodness) down the walkway- “Also I am very capable of keeping myself accountable, babe. I promise!” 

“Well, yes.” You call back thinking she’d hear it. “Whatever you think, love.” The pet name teeters off your tongue for the first attempt, but you decide to let it stick. “Whatever you like.” 

–

On the occasion you’re not all over Anna and vice versa, the bearings remain with you. 

While taking advantage of the ship’s free time, you’ve found yourself theorizing a plethora of questions worth reflection. Maintenance on the vessel can only go so far (guidance controls are repaired too late, or perhaps without enough care, especially with Anna’s cum still warm on your lips). Personas begin to split, what once felt like a first thought now revealing itself as a connection steadily withering with each cycle. The prevailing sexual tension; the constant are-you-or-are-you-not, has passed. What remains is a return to the first square of restraint, stripped of ambiguity. For future reference: productivity is no longer optional; you’re expected to fulfill the subpar tasks left behind when desire stopped pretending it was direction.

The tension being studied: is it viable? compatible? sustainable, even. Whether it's worth conjuring up a label that substitutes romance or solitude or just pure, unadulterated sex because the both of you have literally nobody else? Will there be a moment when this has to be addressed, or the eventual confession that escalates to something more? Anna, sharing her art, for one. Will she carry on curating such pieces or use the art to replace the time in fucking? That would be the case if she did - you love her works. The expression it possesses. Teaches anew. 

More on the study: would she sketch or paint you? How would you look in one of her artistic creations? Would it be a gaze from a direct mirror, an interpretation, how evocative could you become, a perfect version she envisions you through her eyes? If you proposed the idea of painting you like a bionic human, would you look like Sooin? Sure, it could compensate for the memories, I suppose. They have little significance, you can’t remember who’s who and what’s real; in the end: you are you and why (no seriously, like- why) is it that there’s a resemblance of Gawon with Anna? 

–

(You’ll leave it off as this: 

one: you’re fucked in the head. 

two: maybe Sooin [or Gawon] is fucked into your frontal lobe. 

or three: your brain is fucked. 

It’s one of the three, you know that much.) 

–

Not long after, Anna’s made it to the dining quarters - your dining quarters, as you’d coin it. Shared spaces and all. Couples have that aspect, usually, you overthink it from time to time. 

“Hi,” you greet her, casual, nonchalant, nicking your shoulder into the wall because of how pretty she looked. It’s worth mentioning: “You look good. Like- really good. How is that possible?” 

Anna, on the other hand, leans back on the kitchen counter with an egg sandwich, her fair skin shining and glistened with spit, her nightgown in place (despite the annoyance of not being able to rip it off her. She quirks the corner of her mouth before biting. “I didn’t think of myself that much, if we’re honest. Never was the type to stand out over the others.” 

“That’s a matter of perspective, ma’am,” you reprimand. A good tip in the personal scale of your deteriorating thoughts. “I’d be an exception, because it’s you; the woman I love? a gravity I fail to escape from? you’re beautiful. 

She pouts. “So you’re one to say I was a slut before we did what we did?” 

You can’t afford to fall into old habits. Anna nibbles another piece off, and considering how poor you’ve been carrying out orders, it’s critical to maintain her routines and needs. So you carefully continue: “No. Not exactly, but that also means-” 

“You and your tangents,” Anna shrugs. You see the opened bag of tangerines, peeled and eaten halfway. That does beg the question, but you don’t address it. Given the travel time in space and with the amenities overstocked with the same kinds of foods that exhibit redundancy, and bland as they are - okay, you decide to let it pass and move on. “You love talking about these things and I love to listen,” she lifts a hand forward, seeing that your face remains unchanged. “Why don’t you indulge me in your thinking?” 

Ugh, she’s unbearably cute. 

“Okay,” you say. Composure is broken glass beneath your bare feet and you don’t even have feet to begin with. “Right- my point is, and I’m motivated to belittle you in all the ways you like-” Anna tilts her head with curiosity, and you’re failing to keep this deliberate and chaste, but- “words like whore and slut, or-” 

“If they fit the mold, and said ‘mold’ being me?” Anna assists in the connection. 

“-yeah, and you’re completely fine with it? None of those things affect you in any way, shape, or form?” 

Silence falls between the two of you. “Back in Toyama, most of the girls said those kinds of things- to me. Calling me a lowlife, a slut, whore, a pretty pick-me girl - I mean, I was a whore at some point back then,” she says. Ketchup drips down to her breast and she swipes it on a finger, licks it clean. “I may or may have not written about my teachers and classmates - in a sexual manner-” you bite your lip at her stifled laugh, “-until someone found my stuff when I was away.” 

“Doesn’t mean you had it coming,” you reply. 

“But then I thought: if people who claimed to be not a whore are willing to treat whores as such- what’s so bad about it? It’s not my fault they’re spiteful because they can’t relate. What if I want to be a whore, huh? At least that was until the conversation veered off into the freaking space project-” her arm falls with a scowl on her face, accusatory, and you feign ignorance. “-and that’s just a roundabout way of how you were with me.” 

“Finish that sandwich first and then we’ll have another go,” you supply a reminder. 

“Why don’t you eat it for me instead? 

“Would you rather ache on an empty stomach while I dick you down? Or have enough energy to suck me off while I wrap your hair nicely into my fist? If you don’t take care of that, you're going to be disappointed one way or another, so which one will it be?” 

Anna then bites another piece of the sandwich. “Alright. As I was saying: those girls were idiots. Calling me a slut or a whore is a compliment, and whether or not I am one-” she glances again with food in her cheek, “-you should know with the cum on your thigh and my lips on your cock after. It isn’t really all science, just look at me. Look-” and she slips a hand under her gown, showing the soaked fabric, “-well, it’s been a little while since that, yeah.” 

You can see her eyes move at a frantic pace, the neurons firing every bit of electricity from her brain, then she lets another drop of ketchup fall on her chest. A few more to follow. “Ah,” she sighs. “Needs more water.” 

It makes you consider: the option to surender and push her body down and fuck her over the sink like she deserves it. She’s a mess. You’re the same, but you’re able to make more of a mess with her. How good she could look squirting like a faucet and getting the cabinets wet - another tangent to daydream about, the potential your asymptomatic self could handle. You are both idiots, idiots in love with wants that are albeit predictable. By now you should’ve checked the thrust capacities in the primary boosters, but you couldn’t be bothered with something so boring if it wasn’t for you spending another second with her. 

“You- I can’t. You’ve got issues, Anna.” 

“I’m an undeserving bitch,” she tells you. “You have the personal account first-hand; I got the evidence. It’s gone through all the checks. My pussy and your cock are going to have a very constructive discussion.” 

That turns the gears in your head. “Uhm- fuck. So. I’m just gonna completely ignore what you just said, but this exchange will be brought up in the next debrief.” 

“What is that gonna do? Scare me? Fuck if I care. Do it anyway.” Anna laughs, loudly. “Maybe the universe will finally realize how fucked we both are.” 

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine, thank you.” It’s an announcement that goes over her head. “Sane for that matter. I haven’t a clue what you were talking about just now.” 

“Sane, my ass. You didn’t act like this when you were breeding my pussy the other time,” she says (it short-circuts your brain a bit, too). “Let’s do this. A litmus test to assess how your brain’s holding up. Take this.” 

She tosses you a pack of fruit snacks. Technically speaking, you’re not built to eat most foods, but there’s an exception for a few bites here and there - and thank the maker for understanding that food is fuel, and the acquired tastes for a bionic also gives meaning for a molecular analysis. A part of you wonders whether someone has moved the heavens and earth to grant you as much humanity as possible. On the other hand, you’re torn to be content or deep in thought, but this is natural to think deeply about your personal ethics. None of that mattered, anyway. You nibble down a piece or two. Er- at least make it look like you are. You do get through the package with no problem, but the juices are squished out and required a little bit of tongue and sucking at the bottom- 

“Great, I’ve got this to deal with.” You laugh, wiggling the bottom of the plastic. 

“Aww, a baby can’t finish their food,” says Anna. “I’ll give you another pack.” 

“Why waste your nourishments on me?” You ask. It’s unwarranted. Considering the percentages diluted to your space travel (Anna having a fit because the unit had to be down to an even number ever since she cried - well, ugly cried - about how unfair it was for you two to be shipped off into nowhere, and that you understood perfectly). If anything, you’ll stretch out the rations for another four to five thousand cycles, just before you activate the slate protocol and go into status back into the magnetosphere.

Once that’s all done: it would be a few more cycles after adjusting course to compensate for the dip in starboard trajectory, return to Toyama and spend the first night back in an alleyway making out just right outside the naval base. Anna wouldn’t be hungry, and you’d be reassigned sooner or later. 

All of these tangents, broken down like a square root but none show a result of stability. Technical difficulties and maintenance serve a good distraction of fucking her - a mistake on your own part by following her to the mess before she finished her meal, but you didn’t have a subroutine for that in the first place. You’re a fool that’s led into the whimsical panache and desire from your best friend cumming into your mouth and standing across from her talking about groceries while the overarching topic was about being accountable with basic needs. It’s only natural; normal even. Gawon or Sooin would applaud the both of you. 

Your name rings through your ears, Anna’s high-haltered tone another hymn to repeat again and again (and it’s delightful when she says it). “Who cares if the spreadsheet for the amenities has my name on it. You’re welcome to take some, too y’know. It’s not like the fleet views you as damaged goods, huh?” 

She has a point, it makes you think. “If anything, I wanna gift you nice things, too because-” you pause and look, “-seeing you happy makes me complete. Who knows, I’m only speaking half the truth here.” 

“Half the truth like this last piece of grape? Or my breadcrumbs?” 

“I was thinking maybe a little of the asparagus-” 

“An asparagus eating swan?” 

“Now you’re just speaking nonsense,” you sigh. “I’m thinking of one full grape. Even the whole sandwich.” 

“All of the crumbs fall off the crust in the sandwich.” 

“That’s not- okay. You know, Anna- forget it. A swan is elegant when they have all the attention on them.” 

“I told you this!” Anna exclaims, squinting her eyes. “But you deserve all the attention, too! You can’t keep giving me everything. Let me do the same for you.” Her chin dips, a smirk forms. “How good you’d look with a collar- OOH. Even a rope around your neck.” 

“Anna-” you choke. Nothing would ever push you over the edge of a mineshaft unless it was pure sex talk. “God. Why do you even- for fuck’s sake, Anna. Holy shit-” 

She snorts. “Be a good lapdog and fuck me yourself.” 

Forget logic. Impatience triumphs common sense. You bolt across the dining area and press her to the fridge, ready to reign fire with your mouth- 

“Now now, sweetie,” says Anna who stops you with a finger to your lips and before you could put your tongue to good use. Her voice is firm, serious, looking you in the eyes through the heavy breaths. “You didn’t let me finish my snack.” 

Like a fucking musician, playing you as some instrument, controlling you like a servant pet. “Anna,” you rasp, graveled. “I swear- I’m gonna be insane if you don’t- Let. Me.” 

“Hush.” A dismissing command. “Do pets speak? Or do jesters play when they’re not asked to? Sit down, now.” 

You take a step back, defeated, shuddering. She’s managed to break you. This part of the script wasn’t in your hypothesis filed in the ‘mess hall scenario’. The fact that she could even act like this despite the lacking ability-

One push of her hand has you stumbling to the chair. Anna walks from the fridge, letting both straps of her dress fall from her shoulders, revealing her tits. She smiles, laughs at you to make the image less obscene (but not by much). “You look tense.” No fucking shit, you’re thinking, of course I look fucking tense. “Be my little songbird, honey. Sing all the sounds you want. I just want to have my fun before I ruin you.” 

You stare at her with a parted mouth. “Sure,” you say. Switching to another topic would be a viable option here. “Allow me to add,” and the hint of being a fearful avoidant rises with the sentence, “an idea I’ve been contemplating about you.” 

Anna opens another pack of fruit snacks. An impulse spikes deep in your consciousness; it papers over your cracking persona.  Having settled in the psychoanalysis of this exchange wouldn’t last another second without the urge to not think but do. “For one to bear such thoughts in this condition,” she tells you. “It intrigues me.”

“Like you, I have my limits when it’s relevant.” 

She mumbles the same sentence, probably in annoyance. “As if you weren’t the one in heat and wanted to get on me right away-” 

“You don’t have the warrant to make that accusation,” you grit. “I don’t break. Easily. “ 

“And yet you were,” she retorts and your expression matches against her relent. “Why would I care? This is me taking care of my needs, without your deliberation. Contemplating about what, exactly?” 

“A person- a person that I remember-” you stop short. Most conversations like these should be civilized. You are civilized beings having dinner - and the topic that usually returns to the table is often engaging. “It’s-” you breathe again, “with these fragmented memories, they just exist, right?” 

“Mhm,” grins Anna. “Hopefully it’s something steamy.” 

So, that washes away the nervousness even Anna has no idea about from earlier, but you add: “It was, and why I had- enjoyed that-” 

“My, are you shy from what we did?” asks Anna. “Is the brain reduced to mush during sex? Or how I grinded on your leg and cumming-” 

“I’m being serious. If I can’t hold myself back-” you smirk at the thought, “-okay. The whole point I’m trying to make is that while we do that, I realize that my past self was in love with another woman.” 

“Really?! Hell yeah! That’s good!” Anna exclaims, undeterred. “I hope they fucked, too.” 

“Definitely, and I think with those blips of memories is a chemical reaction waiting to happen. Because whoever I remember-” you wave your hand to your face, “-and I know her name, but it feels invasive from time to time, seeing these memories, and they’re starting to creep in while we fuck.” 

“Hang on,” Anna shakes her head, biting down a piece from the fruit pack. “Should I be upset by this?” 

“No- not really. You shouldn’t,” and you see Anna’s gaze soften. It’s sobering (for all the sexual tension built between the two of you) she doesn’t let it slide if she’s aware of a problem. You’ll provide the explanation: “That being said, I-” 

“-looked into my inner self and found a caveat,” she says. 

“And I wanted to forget about that past self, rather to be present, in this body, with you.” 

“I appreciate your concern. If it makes you feel better, I’m not mad at you for that. We’re just managing as we go. Rendering how complicated it may be.” 

“I feel the same,” you reply. “Believe me- it felt good. And you’re right, there’s a limit how much my body can take, and the sex is good and my previous clone is the same as me- so it makes sense; but at the same time, it isn’t entirely mine - to also add, when we talked about the Ship of Theseus, Anna, I know that look you’re giving. I wanted to hear your- thoughts.” 

“Yes,” Anna crumples up the foil in her hand, “We can go through your manual. Maybe run through the directives and experiment what you like?” 

You emit a deep breath, keeping composure - as in: you need her on your lap, bind your wrists together - not yet. “Going by the manual isn’t technically sex education. You’re not supposed to fuck your bionic companion,” you cough, clutching your chest. “Things like that are off the books and shouldn’t be addressed in the mission logs.” 

“Shit,” says Anna. She laughs at this (and, endearingly): “If there’s someone we know that was experienced at overlooking the black ink and redacted texts-” 

“Unprofessional- we’re unprofessional,” you dismiss with a smirk, to which Anna matches. “Prospective, actually. If I can get myself off from these memories, we can also toy with the idea of conducting you into the mix-” 

“-this is so hot coming from you-” 

Anna hears you out: “Like- it’s a recurring trial, each with a different result at the end. For every time we-” your jaw slightly drops and forms a wicked grin, “-when we continue to practice unsafe sex-” 

She puts her hands on your face, forcing you to look up. “Why is it you’re making this sound like it’s a one-off?” 

“Absolutely not,” you answer, a little too quickly. If anything: i’m helpless here, falling into an admiration i cannot seem to escape, you think - and having that in mind, you carry forward. “I- I can’t really be sure. I want you so bad that it’s fucking up my cognitive functions. Now- can you just finish your fucking food?!” 

“Safe to say you’re dying to have me. Push me on the counter with that cock of yours?” Anna tuts. “You can be a good puppy and wait. I know your body likes to suffer.” 

Having someone who understood you so well leaves you stripped cold. You’re not the kind to shiver, but the instinct persists. When the night falls, well- the period of your inner circadian rhythm which Anna claimed to be your ‘sleep cycle’ convinced you to call it like hers as ‘bedtime’ - another ritual you’ve attempted to grasp. There’s no reason to create a protocol in the Primrose where the temperature drops enough to suggest mending bodies together to produce warmth, but you have. 

(“I’ve always wanted to live in a burning planet,” Anna had said to you one time, shuddering next to you all thanks to your alterations, and even implementing seasons; dancing in the rain, and creating a makeshift nightstand so that the gentle radiance greets her sloping cheeks every morning - a gift that had always left her in tears at times.) 

To circle back: you want her, badly. Patience is running a thin line and all it takes is one hasty movement to unravel everything at once. With the benefit of hindsight, you often catch yourself in depreciation (spilling curses in a comical manner) over how the relationship with Anna would never change. Out of the many stories she shared with you, she claimed: “y’know i could never tell when other people were flirting at me” to which you chuckled at that, sitting together in the cockpit and doodling constellations - in all the things of friendship-wise. Who knows. You could’ve kissed her then along with countless other times after. 

Time doesn’t dwindle away into a black hole, but the uncertainty sucks the life out of you. Getting older was a guarantee; not just in your bodies, but in the aging metal around you. The Primrose’s missions are an odyssey of their own; so is challenging the antiquated sense of moralities every now and then. How dehumanizing, it must be for all the ‘what if’s’. In the end: you are you and the choices you make are almost calculated, even if Anna was old-fashioned with her arts and books and ideas to understand. 

(She asked another time: you know about Swan Lake by Tchaikovsky? Or the Shakespearian tale of Macbeth? And while watching the gray colored screen late into the night through a voice: “But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, and bound into saucy doubts and fears.”) 

Anna slants her head - the conversation's gone dry again. “You blanked out,” she assesses. “Did you have another flash of memories just now?” 

To play into the question: yes, you did have memories of that past life, remembering her- and maybe it’s tragically romantic. “You finished. And we haven’t gotten to kissing yet. I wonder why.” 

“You and I are both messy. A pair of fucked up beings in this universe,” she supplies. Handing you the foil to toss away in the garbage bin behind you. “Luckily it’s something we can fix together.” 

“And you mean-” 

“Exactly what I mean. Come get me.” Anna commands, acting like you needed a trigger word to not jump on her for over an hour. It comes off as a surprise on her end that you do the opposite: walking over with a gentle push back into the fridge and kissing gently. There isn’t an explanation of the rush in lifting her up the metal with your neck in a figurative leash (a metaphoric tether, but it ties the connection down seamlessly), and she’s hot and light in your fingers, and there’s a reaction bubbling in your emotional cortex.

You kiss her without letting go. From your eyes it’s romantic; in Anna’s - it’s undetermined. Her skin heats up like the sun greets her eons ago. Her body shudders; riddled with goosebumps. 

“I like this. You. I like you. I love how fun this has become,” you admit, forehead to forehead. Anna smiles, softly; creasing skin in corners all over her face and eyes. More. Previous impulses course through your mind: her voice drenched with at the need of you on her bed, falling soon after and fucking on the floor the next. Her slick mouth working your cock to the back of her plush throat; touching, grasping, needing the sensation and warmth in each other, for something to hold once everything’s reduced to dust- 

Toyama is a long way from you two, a mere dot among the stars. Even if those who knew you, or knew of you could see what you have become, they would look with such judgement. What Anna had as baggage here has either been lost in the blanket of space or hidden with the many other regrets she carries. If this floating asylum is the only place where you could have mutiny. If her longing for home has equaled the distance. 

Anna kisses you; much, much more gently. You’re all soft lips and battered hearts. Suffice with another memory: the fear of intruding a sacred ground, letting love succumb you over with all its might, and how you’ve let it die at your hands. 

“Baby,” she coos. “Tell me what it is. What do you want?” 

Keep her hands on you; kiss me softly, then harder. “Pointless wants, they’re stupid- illogical. One word doesn’t get the point across. “I need your body against mine.” Artificial can’t match authenticity. “Make me go insane and have you feel the same way.” You’re a hopeless romantic. “Make love with me until our arms and legs are aching-” and once more, you hold back on confessing the truth. It hasn’t been that long since the first kiss, so this is a bit of a rush, going into things recklessly. 

But when has that ever stopped you from feeling so good about it? 

Intent and desire burns deep into your nerves and heart, flashes of your past life bends the perception of what’s real and what isn’t. The thrill of your body being lit on fire from artillery strikes or when you sank to the bottom of the ocean. There was also the time where there was a singular bullet in the chamber, and spinning around the old glock fueled more excitement once the barrel’s to the side of your head, waiting for the hollow, audible ‘click!’ when the gun didn’t go off. Nothing scared you that much and that was the empowering (or frightening) part you miss. 

(memory playback #8: Gawon runs ahead of you to an end where there’s no return and a crossroad that alters fate. She’s got a cigarette to her teeth and offers it between her fingers, gazing tenderly. You dance with her and the heart in your chest feels like it’s going to be pierced from your ribs. When you think about her, you fail to cry. The red ribbon around her neck is on your wrist and the scent of her hair is all but ash. 

memory playback #9: The grief you carry is unexpressed love, without a receiver. It leaves your body, like a flock of doves creating a constellation into the sunset, greeting the stars for her, searching for their lost companion they wish to love and cherish.) 

“I care a lot about you,” Anna rasps into your cheek. “I really do, believe me.” She understood your internal conflict, and perhaps it's this moment where you could finally make peace with it: letting Sooin and Gawon cuddling past the gate now shut in your head. In another life (that past life), your intimacy is the same as theirs, and the kind you’d want to keep close. You’re entranced into another slow dance with Anna, one without music, holding her in a tempo that’s a little too slow, locking lips again and again, and that would be more than enough. 

“Your happiness will always matter more to me than my own,” you tell her. Heresy in its true form, but you’re honest, and that isn’t made more obvious than embracing each other in the kitchen. Your hand sinks to her side. Risky. Some of her hair is covering her ear: even more risky. You want to keep charming her. 

She looks down to your fingers at her thigh, tensing and giving at the feel. “This is okay, right?” you ask, knowing very well there’s one answer you want to hear; longing (basically yearning) for Anna to say it. 

Anna nods in approval. “Mmm, I-” You can tell she wants more - more of you. Yet you play into the teasing. Surrendering isn’t the only way to get power, and pushing her buttons doesn’t always have to be the endgame. Her eyes dart from one end to the next, and the reactions are cute to see up close. She gets pulled closer at her own pace; a loose arm pressuring around her once you settle back on the chair and (finally, at long last) in your lap. Between the short asphyxiations, you know she’s ready, bestowing the responsibility back to you - aware of how this game is being played, and while she’s completely flustered and plastered pink on her face, she goes along with it: “Why don’t you tell me more?” 

“Show me more of those old western films you’ve been watching. Paint cute things all you want,” you answer. Right away, these are foolish things. “Cook those meals from home. Look up at the stars and fall face first into the planets that we explore.” Oh, you’ve got the saccharine plot all set up, but it widens the grin on her face while she’s dripping between her legs. 

This side of you is the most raw and inescapable version you’ve ever been, and Anna has had her fair share of going through these phases, and while you’re rattled in dread of being more explicitly, you perch on her ear: “and please, I want you to teach me more of these dances,” and you’re sure the answers will come as they go. 

“Dancing has a sensual approach to it,” says Anna, seeing through the facade. “Once you see past the veneer, the art transcends to a whole lot more.” This has you smiling like an idiot, and you can’t stop it from happening. The additional, and hilarious fact of you wanting to canvas her body more than what space has to offer - but she’s here on your lap and so close to your heart. The line of her collarbone, the small beauty marks sprinkled on her shoulder and chin and ear, her firm mounds; a small hint of her nipple peeking above the gown and the strap to her arm. 

“Anna,” you call out to her; her hand guides yours to her breast before she responds. Forces your fingers to clutch and grasp as she barely does anything to stay still. “Anna. Can- please. I know-” you’re pushing it, it’s driving you insane, circling her nipple and not even giving a pinch. 

“You don’t have to fucking ask,” she grits, but it’s mixed into her whimper. “I swear- I’m gonna have to toy with myself if you’re not going to do it for me-” 

Pinch. 

A press, pull, then a little flick. Soon your tongue will do the same. “Because you’d rather use your hands than mine? I guess my hand will have to do while you take care of that.” 

“Oh please. I can touch myself at the thought of you whenever I fucking want,” she groans, shivering when you have a hand to her shoulder keeping her in place. “You don’t even know about the time I laid on the table and fucked myself in the hopes of you seeing and taking care of my problem-” 

“Huh-” you drop the act, slightly. “When did you- what?” 

“What? No- I mean, I just grinded against the corner. And maybe the chair that you’re sitting on right now. Okay, look- I’m just- fuck! 

You laugh into her neck. “When did you even do it? And why’d you keep that from me?” 

“A while ago. Probably the first few cycles into our mission period. I even had it journaled in.” Anna beams. “Can you just fucking touch me already?!”

The inner curve of your thumb and finger moves up to the crease of her hip and leg, then her stomach, then the underside of her breasts, all the nooks where you can touch. “Do tell, Anna,” you propose, indulgent. “What was the appeal?” 

“That you’d drop to your knees and proclaim the same desperation you have for me,” she answers. “Use me like a toy, and just rail me on the table with a hand to my neck and-” a gasp once your thumb flicks her pretty little clit. “-you just fucked me senseless. God, I beg-” 

Your mouths are clashing again. There’s been too much of the talking and less of kissing. The both of you aren’t sure what you’re doing. A finesse of feeling her body, you assume. You also presume there’s an optimal route to explore her body - to hell with going by the book, you’ve no need for it. Anna wants to be touched; she likes to be touched. Her body is going to be pliant and soft and you’ll love nothing more than to lick the sweat of her waist and feel the friction get together - okay, stop fucking overcomplicating it. Worship your lover with all your might. The drunk pleasure will happen regardless. 

“Don’t- don’t,” Anna shoves a whine down your throat. “If you think about stopping, I’m going to make you crazy about me-” she begs, and her character finally breaks into impatience. She’s got two fingers deep in her cunt, fucking herself. 

“Look at me, honey-” she hisses, pathetically. “You’re only holding yourself back.” The next thing she does is lift the same hand from her legs, slipping those same two fingers into her mouth. 

–

Time waits for no one, not even you. 

Her hot lips laving yours enough to make you lose it even more. She doesn’t play nice (but she never played nice.) Anna’s face is difficult to read; is it control? rapture? ruin? or perhaps gratification? Too much to tell, and there’s a lot of ground to cover. A winner like her takes it all and the loser - unfortunately, has to fall and suffer. You have your directive, and there’s the added order of acting on whatever she bids you to do. Her puffy lips coat your cock delicately, tongue stroking the roof of your mouth as she lets her hips settle on the length. 

“How much do I have to do to make you- ugh!” She grits, grasping your neck soon after. Because the concept of power is somewhat new to her and she’s got her priorities straight. “Do me a favor: get the fuck on the table.” (You believed it at first of her not having the authority to rest it heavily on your head - but god, you’ve never been proven so wrong.) 

Her knees creak the wood once you’re laid on your back, peppering trails of spit from her waist down between her legs. Thank the creator for compensating; being able to respond to the wetness was one thing that couldn’t deliver in terms of granting you the five senses, but you make do. Anna’s leaning forward, bending. Most of her gown’s been discarded, revealing skin. Your optics can’t process all of the new pieces of information all at once- 

“I like where you are,” she hushes, the breath alone should’ve made you shiver. “Always willing to submit.” 

You’ve never wanted to breathe so desperately in your life. Feeling the weight of her hips crushing your face. 

What’s more rewarding than the skullfuck is the constant grazing of Anna’s cunt brushing against your lips. She’s rubbing her clit too, the poor needy thing. As much as you’d love to keep this going, to satisfy your own needs, there’s a bedside rule left unsaid: to return the same subservience. 

Anna’s so close to cumming. That, at least, until you bite her inner thigh. 

It’s met with: “Ah-!” And Anna’s body convulses, scowling into your eyes. Temporary. This is fun, and you know she doesn’t want to stop. 

“Satisifed?” You ask, eyes lidded. 

“Love, you- oh. You have no idea.” She’s starting to break. You notice she’s overly strung out on her own confidence; like you, she needs to have her buttons pushed. 

“Oh my god. You’ve wanted to do this on me for a while now, haven’t you?” 

Anna winces. “Maybe. Who’s to say?” 

“You and your fantasies. I love to see you try.” 

Her face falls flat, determined. She wonders on something for a moment, disregards the second thought and does it anyway: shoving her whole ass across your face and making you suffocate. Even better: her hand grips the edge, you brush your tongue deeper into her. The wood creaks and the servos in your jaw are trying to accommodate as her makeshift vibrator- “Anna,” you muffle, then the eyes go back to your head. “Mmmf-” 

“Yes, right there- that,” she groans. “God-” 

She lifts and you hold her thighs where they are. “You are something,” you praise. “How is that you’re this sexually precious?” 

“What about you? Is it too much?” 

“Nonsense,” you answer. Her being concerned is thoughtful. “You’re doing just fine. I mean- we did fuck on the floor the other time-” 

“And it won’t be the last,” she replies. “We finally have more use of our time now.” 

“Slow is steady,” you remind Anna. Unsaid words are carried through expressions. You’re too drunk on Anna’s essence seeping out her legs, so you’ll keep the talking to a minimum and kiss her (other) lips. 

“Baby, baby, baby, oh my-” Next her hands dig into your scalp, and judging from the reaction alone it’s only stimulating her mind more, slipping out words and each utterance more incoherent than the last. 

Nothing could stop your tracing tongue dancing on her cunt, switching the flick at the slightest pitch change. The mission hasn’t changed. It’s always been the same since the beginning, only now where you and her have come to realize that to truly survive- 

You both need each other. 

Sensory inputs are overloaded with data: at the graze of your nose to her clit, the nibble of her inner leg, the shimmy of her hips and once she’s had enough, you force her to take more. A tap of her clit when she lets you breathe. Another one earns a whimper. She’s a molten mess in your hands. 

She grabs your cock and it throbs. “Tease,” she groans with her head back, biting her bottom lip. You want to test the limits of how much she can handle; where she can keep her head leveled before losing it completely. Once again: she shudders, swiveling your length, and you look up earnestly with your mouth to her folds. Any more forms of contact could legitimately kill her (and there’s another directive to unpack for that matter), suck her dry before she even has the chance to recover. How you could give her that dream of railing her on the table, but you’ll hold back. Anna’s legs shudder when your breath meets her cunt. 

“Anna,” you say, and it’s wonderful to say her name while being under, “just let me- relax, babygirl. Give yourself to me. I promise to take care of you.” 

You’ve got the intent down to a ‘T’. It’s just you: this model, her lover, her toy. She doesn’t even let you off once she’s moved down to your hips, her hot cunt just within reach of your tip. Which was safe to say: she couldn’t wait or take it anymore. When the thick tip pushes her folds, her body shakes; the expressions are amazing. You want to see more of them. 

The pleasure is sharp enough for you to sit upright and in the present. You kiss her, kiss her head, shove your hand deep into her scalp so your mouths stay touched. Her fingers corral your neck, your back - you can do better than that - tensing the line in your bodies to an unknown measure, something that can be learned errorlessly. “Hey,” you shudder, filling the whole length inside her. She doesn’t move. You’ve got your hands to her hips and take up the gaps in her mind; makes her gasp. 

“My good girl too fucked out? Need me to get you going since you almost came?” 

Her head tilts, she’s cock-drunk. Perfection. 

“It’s you,” cupping your head, “this pretty face, and this fucking cock-” she sputters, the grip getting tighter motion picking up in waves. “Please, fuck me. I beg- I’m fucking ordering-” 

She knows you can’t be hurt, and only one of you is going to be sore. 

“Shh, I know hun,” you coo, hoisting her hips up and yanking them back down with a little more force. You have no regard for the things around you: the wood creaks against the metal flooring; Anna knocks over a cup off the tabletop; your hips thrust upward into her heat. It’s gotten you both delirious. You’re sitting up, licking the beads of sweat off her breast; brush your cock where her cunt’s the hottest. 

You know so much but also so little. There’s a nibble here, you might’ve sucked her nipple a little too hard, don’t give her time to breathe as she rides you, and she’s smiling through it. Granted, neither of you are inexperienced with this whole concept of fucking, but there’s so much to learn regardless; there’s you: split between memories and the remorse of a body that was never your own; her, and her intimate experiences in the past she’s never breathed a word about. If anything, the closest you’ve ever approached the topic was one of those conversations where time seems to stand still in the vastness of space - answering the question about her past and all of the events before with ‘look, I had nothing else to lose, so why stick around when there’s nowhere else to go or turn to?’ 

Even now, there’s a covered painting in this room Anna does while she eats. She never gives you a straight answer about it, and there really isn’t anything you could do to make her budge and open up, but that’s fine. The tension in the air is thick and heavy just like her body as she grinds her hips to yours, and she could be setting aside her emotional baggage to never be spoken about again. 

Anna’s face buries into your neck, fingers clenching into your hair. Her pussy is tethered to your cock and each slam down is another pull of reality bringing you back. You could just draw it to simply losing your being to the person you love. 

“So deep. It’s so, so deep,” she moans, and you focus on her voice as it makes you remember where you are. You grip her ass the same way hers did around your neck - an unspoken message to share on what feels good and where to keep her keening. Communication here can be fallible: you’re mindful that Anna never answers the questions truthfully or ignores you, and how her past could never be addressed in the corners of darkness; you’re aware that saying nothing oppresses your free will; despite this, it’s just how things are between you and Anna. 

But maybe you should focus on this plane of existence. Anna has both the beauty and flaws and the big plus is (you also have your own faults) that you can’t help being in love but feign from the admission. Your skin doesn’t bruise as easily compared to hers, as well as respond to toxic environments since you can’t feel pain. Thanks to her, you’ve learned the aspect of pleasure while stimulating your own learning synapses; with your thumbs to the crease on her legs, keeping her there, flexing your cock deep inside to her walls and focus on her lips clashing to yours. She’s a slick and gushing mess. 

You also recall an instance where Anna put a book down and said: “for erotica, why are they doing so much into detailing the feeling of one’s cock inside their lover?” Then she stemmed it off into saying a cock isn’t the only appeal for a woman’s pleasure and all of a sudden you don’t recall much. 

The bruises across her legs are starting to bloom in reddish-pink. More decorations to deviate from the usual purple you’ve seen on her that suit her state more or less. She’s leaking on your artificial shaft, insistent for all of it. It earns her another deep thrust upward, a few bites to her neck, hot breaths into her mouth: these things you want to leave as many as you possibly can so that they serve as reminders of an intoxicating poison she’s taken whenever she’s bathing or doing the little makeup. What would be even better: if she got herself off to ease her mind off of this. 

It hasn’t even been that long; probably a few weeks since she asked you to dance. Yet the both of you have been forever changed. Who knows what will become of you when this comes to pass: something new - or whole, even. You can be adamant about where you kiss her; you’ll also learn her preferred fragrance, and kiss more of those bitten lips. She might teach you new things: like how to braid her hair, come up with a theory to create a body that can withstand time - and it could be drawn up as a failure, but everyone has their end, right? When you and her cease to exist, this spacecraft will live on possibly through someone else. 

Anna’s cunt clenches around your cock. Her tight little hole is the only stimulus keeping you focused. She moans, a little erratically. Keeping your head leveled may be easy, but you don’t fight her clawing hands. You’ve felt like this before, and the memories of that form in waves, encroaching the imaginary sand around the island, but it’s yours to share, and you’re going to sink beautifully. 

“Louder,” you say. “Moan for me louder, sweetheart.” 

She angles your chin up, devilishly grinning. “Try me,” is where she settles with. 

You lift and meet her in the middle with a heavy upstroke. There’s tears seeping from the corner of her eyes - like paint being rubbed down on a palate. She’ll commend her own effort, but there’s the fleeting restraint of ruining her more when she says so. 

You fuck her harder once her legs wrap around your hips, incessantly begging. Her moans are mixed with whimpers and whines and you could feel your head go hazy. There’s a memory you recall where the sky flashes white from blue and the world was never the same after that. Your memories of love and yearning are here; pure and impure in ways that make up your existence. 

Stiffening and sweating both have their characteristics, those where they grow all the same. It’s preposterous that fucking her would be an experience- let alone, how you’d be wanting to have these feelings again and again within these confines of this home away from home. Anna was always complicated, but you’ve dealt with it. 

She mewls into your neck and it's a sound you’re familiar with. “Let me hear you,” you offer, a last gasp for restraint. If her hand were a rope, she knew you’d jump at the first opportunity to tie yourself to it like a collar. Your fragmented self would only thrive with these memories, and not wither down to a selfish being hidden underneath your skin. 

I hope my life will matter to you someday, you remember telling her the first few weeks on this expedition - a mere fantasy to delude yourself that she could, but it’s never been more true. 

Anna whines when the head of your cock brushes right to her womb. Her fingers claw the polyethylene on your collar, wincing. It’s still a beautiful sight to behold. 

(memory playback #10: the spray paint in your hand is tossed from a bombed out wall: “you may forget but let me tell you this: someone in some future time will think of us,” a mantra that speaks high of the future, what might come after death - and you share a kiss, another prayer for what higher being may be observing with the stars, and there’s another kiss, then another, then another, then-) 

Your tongue slips out of Anna’s mouth, and the kiss ends. She can taste herself - off of you, with those plush lips, how easy it can really be to fall into her heart. Her toffee eyes are just eyes, but they see you as you are. It’s daunting to be known, how frightening it is to be accepted, alone. You’ve seen terrors before, and so has she. Through it all, it’s love that can transcend for those who can no longer speak. 

It’s a funny thing, really. 

Maybe one day you’ll watch her fall off the ramp and you’ll run after her on a beach with two sunsets. Make love to her on the sand and learn a little more about her then and there. Simple things like loving her can bring ease; free from all pain, guilt, and shame. There’s no point in thinking twice. 

Despite this, Anna tells you to, “please keep fucking me,” and you do. There’s a more dignified approach into how you’ll have sex with her; ideally, a fashion that doesn’t nearly kill her. You’ve memorized every corner and crevice of her body in a short amount of time. It's like a second reflex. Pumping her full of your cock she has to sit up straight by your hand as her limbs try to tangle around where she can cling. 

“Gonna cum?” You ask, slowing the pace. 

Anna’s face pulls another wince, then relaxes. “You’re-” and she’s laughing through it, settling on your shaft. “You’re going to fucking kill me, maybe,” leaning into shoulder. “I’ve made you cum, so it should be similar, we just have to try-” 

You lean forward and lay her back, piercing her womb. She didn’t want you to take it easy - this is what she wants, but the sex was always a form of strategy and compromise. Her cunt makes this unholy noise, and she’s gushing more by the second. Anna gets too ahead of herself, too fast, and she bucks in reflex while your cock slips out and she’s squirting into your hips. You grab your length and wriggle it back on her folds, there’s more. She’s a dripping, leaking mess and her legs are shaking. 

“Anna, god. Anna, oh my god-” you gasp. She’s blabbering nonsense, biting into her wrist, spazzing out from the pleasure. Those marks on her arm will be there for a while, and you’ll have to treat those accordingly once all of this is finished. You’ll always submit to the aftercare even if you resign from doing it initially; for no reason - which may be a different case - but it doesn’t stop you from saying: “Oh, my sweet thing. Cum for me. Slut.” Love in this sense can be ferocious. She can’t even breathe with you pilfering her mouth and cunt at the same time. 

She mutters your name down your throat, voiced in a way so elegantly that it's like she’s singing in appraisal: cumming over your cock. Her teeth clack against yours and she screams, choking as you hold her down by the neck. For how brutish you may be, it’s justified to how much she’s loving this version of you. You would love to hold her up by the waist and fuck her to the brim on this table; exhaustion isn’t a concept that’s applied to you, but your alternating thrusts from slow to fast makes it all worthwhile. Yet pain is a human feeling and your hips actually hurt and you’re panting and the wrongdoing washes down like a waterfall it hurts-

“Please, please, please-” she pleads, weeping. “Don’t- wait, okay. We need to- I can’t go on like this-” 

So you comply once the thrusts have been made. Once the cum settles deep inside her, the romance lingers: you’re cradling her in comfort (unlike those times where life hung on a thread; the many what-ifs), sliding your cock out and seeing a glisten of white seep out of her opening, where she’s warm and you want to keep her that way. 

It’s also easy to stay close to her, and never let her go. Easy to be attentive and be accepting of her like she is with you. And it dawns, cruelly: she’s all you have left and- you’ve let it pass. Weathering that in your mind helps you stand stall against the tide. 

Anna’s lip wobbles, “Slut. You said ‘slut’ to me.” She hasn’t stopped; seen with a hand to her chest and the other between her legs. “What have you done-” 

“Did you like it?” 

“I did.” She says while struggling to get up. “In the moment it was-” and the sigh she makes is hellishly pleasing, the devil would be proud. Oh fuck, she mouths repeatedly, pressing her hand to her thighs. “You’re so good.” 

“Glad it was- enjoyable,” you say, helping her up and she’s still close to you. Kissing your neck softly. And it connects: exhaustion. You’ve had sex with Anna more frequently in the past few hours since you’ve started dancing, and it’s been a while since you two have relaxed. Utensils have fallen to the floor, there’s a print of sweat on the table from her back and shoulders; her knees a bruised (again), you don’t recall smacking her ass, and the fucking marks-

Anna kisses you again and holds her side, smacking her lips. “I need water,” she pouts. 

You thumb one of her bruises. “I can get you a cup if you’d like.” 

She meets your eyes, dreamily blinks. Even with her messy hair and blushed skin it doesn't set in on how you and Anna fucked on the table in the dining quarters. You help her down and give her a cup, seeing the water stream down calmly. She looks at the liquid, contemplating. And you realize sex has that effect indeed. 

“We need to have more control,” Anna concludes. “This can be a serious problem.” 

“The sex of the mess?" 

“You wanted me so bad that I can barely walk,” she tells you, trembling so much you swoop in and help her up. “This needs to be addressed later. And we have to make ground rules. Because if not, I’m going to end up dead and you’re gonna fuck a dead corpse-” 

She hears you sigh and chuckle, stopping her train of thought. “Before we can acknowledge the other issues, there’s cleaning up and walking back to bed. The list goes on if you want me to continue.” 

“I should have you carry me,” says Anna. “Folded me up akimbo and so pretzel-like. My bones are mush. My brain is mush. I’m gonna have an osteo condition now thanks to you-” 

Executive decision: “Let’s get you to bed, honey.” 

You swoop Anna off her feet. A closer look at her features: the fluttering lashes and small blush she applies when she can make you stare a little longer at her than she liked - considering how it’s a smeared mess and perhaps you did fuck a little too much. Appealing as it is, you like her pampered more than the latter. 

“You are okay, yes?” It’s worth the curious inquiry. 

“Aside from paralyzed from the waist down,” she jokes, “I guess you can say that I’m in good shape.” 

“The offer still stands for treatment, ma’am. A suggestion, after all.” 

“I am okay. Thank you for asking,” she smiles brightly at you. “Sweaty, messy. The usual deal. Also you came in me. Twice.” 

“We should be more mindful next time,” you say, laying her back on the bed. After all the attempts from earlier, you’ve finally made it. It’s a small win to log in your books. Definitely worth taking. 

“Hey,” Anna grabs your wrist, unwilling to let you leave. “You know: we just fucked.” 

“Mind I add more than once, too?” 

Anna purses her lips. “And you feel, okay?” 

You ponder for a second. “Exhilirating, aside from being messy and such.” 

“Me too. Not to mention sore-” 

“Yep. Even the sore part.” 

“God I feel amazing,” Anna huffs. “How long should I wait before we try it again?” 

“You’re just asking for another go at me, really? Whatever happened to resting, Anna.” 

Anna laughs, slapping your arm. “Could’ve just taken me to the shower, silly. Grab my washcloth and run it through some water. That’ll do for now.” 

–

(There’s an afterglow this time around - different from the other times you’ve seen it up close. A calming presence, a little more sensual. And it tugs at your core when you reach the bathroom, keeping the door ajar so she can see you in her peripheral. The washcloth goes warm in your hands - per her request - and the door closes back to her room. 

It’ll never be the same from this point on, and it’s something you’ve settled with.) 

–

Anna calls you over once she’s recovered, coming out of the bathroom not long after. She slips out of her bath towel, and this is the second time you’ve seen her naked. “You’re not going back to your pod, right?” 

“You propose that we are-” and your hands are out to divide the syllables: “sl-eep-ing to-ge-ther.” 

“Precisely. Do you want to sleep together?” 

“Follow up question: can we sleep together?” 

You freeze. “Something I believe we can try.” 

“I agree,” Anna concedes. “Now that I think about it, fucking on the bed would’ve been a lot more comfy.” 

“Anna, apologies.” You kneel at her feet before the bed. How badly you can crumble at the touch of her hand to your chin. “Promise that we shouldn’t be as rash.” 

Anna shakes it off. “Good fucking luck to us. We were always rash to begin with.” 

“Change can occur at any time.” 

“Customarily, sex has its own ecosystem,” she says, drying the ends of her hair. “When we’re done, we should have all the spots covered in the ship where we haven’t like ‘habitually fucked’ in the next couple cycles.” 

“You’re asking for a deathwish if you’re wondering if we fuck in the decompression chamber.” And Anna shares a smile. “Maybe somewhere we can easily relax and don’t have to move as much.” 

“The cockpit?” she sighs. “Romantic. But- I suppose that would be nice.” 

“Mhm?” 

“Yeah.” Anna replies, kissing your shoulder. “For the record: you’d make a fantastic lover. Date worthy.” 

While your reaction might be off-putting and bewildered, it’s easy to conclude that you’re blushing over the compliment. Then past the wave of happiness is despair, and here you’ve learned that the emotions boil over to something more solemn, regretful. You sniffle. That in itself is foreign to you, balling your hands into fists and not meeting her eyes. You actually go quiet. 

Anna leans over with concern. “Hey- did I mean to make you confused?” 

“I’m not even sure myself,” you answer looking over. 

“How do you feel right now?” 

“Can’t put it to one thing. Reminiscing for no reason- mourning as the other thing, I-” you cough, pinching your forehead. “I shouldn’t be regretful- okay. Anna, can we-” 

She doesn’t let you finish and tugs you over further to her bed. A few moments pass with you two figuring out the small arrangement. But then you see the inside of her bunk more and notice the new details about her: a sakura flower drawn to remind her of home, the faded polaroid of her first day in the academy. 

“You’re surprisingly warm,” says Anna while nestling to your side. “As if you’ve done this before.” 

“I’ve learned a few thing or two.” 

Anna hums, unconvinced. “Is that so?” 

You kiss her hairline, pull her closer. Safe to assume that she’s comfortable. Her arm goes across to your left. You breathe in relief. “Would be lying if I said I didn’t practice,” you answer. “Emotions are one thing; though, if it weren’t the movies we watched together. I would be lacking in the intimacy category.” 

“You’re already exceeding my expectations,” Anna ends off with. “I knew you’d like those movies.” 

–

Later, she switches the lights off. Well aware of what you want to keep sacred. You’re her saving grace, a blessing she’d never expect to have. 

When you two kiss again, it feels deep into the shrouded darkness. 

–

(memory playback #11: When you meet Gawon for the first time, you’re treating a wound to your stomach and have become numb to the medicine spray. Somewhere in a city of Aurelia you kiss her through a rusted blackbox recorder; look up from the wreckage and mark your love with bombs and paint before the waters get too tepid just on the surface. Maybe the roots will grow deep through the water, and you think a slit throat would be the solution for your pierced heart- 

final playback: “I love you too. I hope you know that,” you say. Holding each other’s face dear in the chaos of war. Her trauma is equal as yours and it’ll burn you two up like the rest of the world-) 

–

You learn again: 

Anna’s quarters (along with her bed) is in complete disarray. She’s got the blankets covering the vents; her pillows are smushed into a heap and there’s so many things here that are out of place in the ship. In her case, she never really understood the sleep subroutines you deal with. Despite how smart she is studying astrodynamics, it does not show in engineering. All the more reason to write little post-it notes everywhere on the ship to keep her from not fucking things up.

In the end: it’s really cute.

You place an unfinished canvas on the easel, she hugs you from behind. 

There’s a simplicity to this. 

“I love the whole idea of you,” she says, pulling your chin to her. “My cute big owl, hm?” 

“Take it that you’re okay?” 

“Dear, I’m fucking sore.” Anna groans, begrudgingly. “Blame my own arrogance that we won’t be able to do it again for a few days.” 

“Pushed your luck and see what happened? How many orgasms did you have?” 

“You made me cum four times,” she counts on her fingers. “I made you cum half of those times. But seriously. We need to have an intervention about those dreams of yours. They’re wickedly fucked up.” 

To that, you smile. Actually, you laugh. It’s not in your code to elicit such a reaction, and the leniency needs to be reviewed. You’ve kept your guard up, but Anna has managed to melt you down to a puddle of metal. Change isn’t instantaneous - let today be the nexus of a psychoanalysis that may take days- week- or even months to figure out. A relationship doesn’t happen like the big bang, obviously, but it’s good to have a theory about it. 

“What else did you see?” You ask. “How fucked up were they?” 

“Someone that’s obsessed,” she answers. Finger to her lip. “Issues and things that we need practice on. That’s what I think.” 

You square shoulders, crossing arms. “Elaborate.” 

“Imagine a parallel world. Where everything is perfect, and we wouldn’t have any baggage to carry, sharing the simple life that we’ve dreamed of having. With the best part being the fact that it never ends.” 

It’s worth imagining. “Right,” you say. “Our reality isn’t like that, sadly.” 

Anna rolls her eyes, slumping her back. “Ugh, I had a feeling you were gonna say that.” Humbling, for one, yet she flashes a smile nonetheless. “Everyone’s always told me that I dream too much. Dream, dream, dream. Never wondering about the ‘knowns’ of our world. Makes me feel stuck.” 

“You can dream with me,” you reassure. ‘that’s one of the reasons why I’m in love with you.’ “I admire these aspirations.” 

She hugs you, yawning. “Okay,” she hums. “Promise me you’ll watch?” 

And you’ll keep this star closer with the cosmos. 

///

a/n: sorry for the mini hiatus. i have one thing to say: we are so freaking back. :')

[kooyabooya]

champagne problems (ft. Karina) ; pt.2

fem reader x karina

15k words

(age difference, public sex, dirty talk, cheating, self-depreciation, academic stuff, roundabout romance, stupid actions, bottom stuff idfk im just down bad, fluff, smut?, more cast cameo variety here [just like last time], pt.1!!!!)

“Excuse the random call on your schedule,” Karina says on your afternoon stroll. “I’ve been seeing you for a month and half and I feel like an idiot not bringing you over once.” 

“Oh!” You yelp, heart double-beating. “I mean it’s- you never mentioned or even asked me prior. Why do you sound dejected?” 

“Because I’m stupid. I’ll pick you up?” 

Your mind’s already made up without a second thought, chewing on your lip. “Yes please.” 

“Does right now sound better?” 

“I thought you were working?” 

“I worked five days nonstop last week so they were nice to give me the day off. A pretext for being the first contact if something goes to shit, so go figure I guess.” 

“Sucks.” 

“I know.” Karina sighs dismissively. “Where are you on campus?” 

“Near the science building. Walking.” 

“Wait for me there. I’ll scoop you up at the drop off zone.” 

“Waiting,” you say in a sweet tone. 

“Good,” says Karina, but the line hasn’t gone cold. You wonder if she forgot about the call, and you see the timer still increasing until she adds, cutely: “Can’t wait to see you.” 

She hangs up before you could utter a response. 

–

Thirty minutes of switching between socials and fiddling the phone is a good way to pass time. Until Karina’s car pulls up and she opens the door, grinning with sunglasses on her head. “Hi.” She greets, smiling. You haven’t got used to the red leather seats of her car yet. 

“Hi,” you’re saying back, cringing inside how dumb she makes you act. Karina however, knows the effect she has on people- on you. 

“So,” she says, chuckling. Leaning in her seat and putting the car forward. You watch her hands move the wheel with such finesse - one handed and everything. “Class went alright?” 

“Just a lecture. Nothing significant to report.” 

“Lecture on what?” 

“Eh, perhaps the challenging undertones presented at different stages from a sociological standpoint.” You say casually, freezing after. “I don’t think you’d want to hear that- uh, I mean- at least how I’m explaining it-” 

Karina’s side eye makes you inhale a smile; gears winding inside her head. “Productive lesson it is.” 

Your palm’s to the ceiling. “The topic itself is stretched across two lectures. Apparently they mentioned a guest speaker coming next month to discuss it. Said she focuses on psychotherapy and that already sounds interesting when the time comes.” 

“Who’s the guest speaker?” Karina asks. “Now you got me wondering who they invited.” 

“They didn’t say.” You smirk at Karina’s willingness to know more. Chaewon, at times, blocked you out entirely - when she felt needed to. “Enough about me. Anything happened at work this past week?” 

Karina scrunches her nose. “Well, we almost called the wrong time of death for a rolled-in trauma patient; had a bullet wound in his head and the metal was cascading into the brain if it wasn’t treated right away. They even had the audacity to make him a donor since he wasn’t responding. 

“Jesus,” you gasp. “Did you guys-” 

“Thanks to me. My coworker’s on the hospital’s shitlist after the stunt he pulled.” 

“You mentioned that they were brought on board very recently. To already have them cut off doesn’t look right.” 

Karina lifts her brow. “I already did.” 

–

When you see where Karina lives, you can’t stop looking from the sunroof. 

“Really? Here?!” 

She laughs at you, turning into a driveway and placing the car in her designated spot. Once out, she watches you gawking - your neck at a complete right angle looking up. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” you say, breathless, “Seriously, this place is-” 

“I know,” Karina shrugs as she takes your hand. She greets the green-dressed woman with a bob-cut standing under the awning and enters inside. Everything in the foyer is spacious and looks to be ready for a backdrop at a movie shoot. Not to mention the lift to Karina’s floor- which didn’t even feel like a lift at all. Down the hallway and the door into Karina’s estate, it didn’t stop there. You’re gagged - eyes wide as an entrée plate. Karina giggles with a scrunch. “Expecting something more grand?” 

“You and I have a different idea for a high-rise apartment.” 

“Coming from someone who could be the head of the state.” You tell her, in trade with a baffled look. 

Karina grins behind her finger, “Depends on how you define the term ‘high-rise’.” 

That said, her place isn’t exactly glamorous like you initially thought, but it was still a decent spot in the city. Most of the space has been occupied with modern furnishings, let alone the flatscreen floating over the fireplace. A moon pit couch dressed in a rich, green shade, recently bought it seems. 

You walk around and look up, spin on your toes. “You haven’t eaten, right?” Karina asks you from the kitchen, “I’ve got some bites from yesterday’s lunch.” 

“What’s on the menu?” 

“Some exotic spot, catered too,” she says, walking with an open container in her hands. “My supervisor Jisoo recommended it to the other members on the floor and we got it. Go on, it’s pretty good.” 

You pout, accepting the offer, hand in Karina’s on the way back to the couch. Your legs stretch out and the cushion molds beneath your thighs. Karina puts both legs over yours, schooching closer. 

A spoonful goes to your mouth, and you offer the utensil back to Karina, to which she refuses. “You don’t want any?” 

“I already had some earlier.” 

“How early?” 

“Like on-break-at-my-work early.” Karina answers and you hum and unimpressive noise, but you feed her a scoop with a smile before taking the rest away. 

A thought sparks in your head: “What do you mean by, you already did?” 

“Hm?” 

“About that new coworker who almost shit the bed in the ER. I mentioned that you should give them another chance to redeem themselves but you said that already happened.” 

“With the new hires,” Karina scratches her head, slightly embarrassed. “I suppose there’s more power to my word compared to the other seasoned surgeons there.” 

“What makes you say that?” 

Karina looks at the blank television. She inhales sharply, “My mom’s in charge of the board.” 

That’s something you didn’t know about her: “You profited the easy way up.” 

“Something like that. Though- ugh. I signed up there along with all the other top places in the city. My mom isn’t even involved in the freaking hiring process.” 

“Though she must’ve done something to get you in, no?” 

“Connections can benefit those who take advantage,” drawls Karina. 

“Shit.” You sigh. Then again, it shouldn’t even come as a revelation. Privilege is a concept you’re very familiar with. Gaeul’s family was regal throughout high school, and Momo’s a trust fund baby traveling the world, working on an island without any debts. The realm of wealth has orbited in your life for as long as you could remember. 

Maybe Karina isn’t like the others, the way she bears this cross on her own. It’s not for recognition nor praise. For one, she’s got a decent closet, but her attitude negates the appearance altogether. She views the world differently when one has deep pockets. 

That kind of wealth is something you know little about, too. 

You sigh. “Are you the only one in your family focusing on medical?” 

“My sister-” Karina pauses, pondering on her choice of words, “-step-sister, actually. She’s one. And my uncle was a pharmacist for a while before he decided to switch endeavours to things more worth his time.” 

“What kind are we talking about?” 

“He went into freelance photography. Bless him.” 

“So is medicine the common thread in your lineage?” 

Karina cackles, the hand on belly kind. “Not really. My parents wanted me to find something fun, and seeing how it played out with Ningning - my stepsister, by the way - they gave me full support in whatever I wanted.” 

“Why medicine?” 

She swallows another piece of the soft, lukewarm dumplings. “It was appealing to me back in high school. After graduating, I was undecided whether or not to pursue it fully. Then my uncle’s coworker at the time convinced me to keep going.” Karina explains, face brightening up the more she talks. “I thought about it for a long while and went: okay, why the hell not? And I stuck with it.” 

You’re amazed by the mere simplicity of it. Karina gazes into your eyes - seeing a sliver of her younger self. “Look at you now.” You coo, lips pursed. “Especially at your age. I wish I did something like that for myself.” 

“It isn’t all that,” she shrugs, chuckling. “Working to get the education covered in high school was a bit draining. Though, it made more sense considering med school was going to take up most of the time anyway.” 

“I admire your thinking,” you say. “I admire how you go about your life. Your mind. Just-” 

You. The thought makes you wince. Tugs on the heartstrings a little more harshly. Like you’re yearning, longing. The idea of you. You. All of you. 

It’s damning to admit. So you won’t. That’s not the reason why you’re here. 

“-how you figured all that out,” you say instead. It stings silently after. “I wish I had that for my story, pfft.” 

“Ah, you’re fine,” comforts Karina. Grin spreading across her face, veneers brighter than her fair skin. As smart as she is, it’s rare for her to be dense for a second. “I can tell you the tale about how my roommate and I got locked in my department’s building for a night or two.” 

–

You knock on the door of Karina’s study hours later. “Is this a bad time?” 

“Not at all,” you hear her answer on the other side, muted into the wood. “Come on in.” 

When you swing the door slowly, you’re hesitant; as if you’re intruding a space you have no right stepping in. The office itself is nice (just like the rest of the freaking house). In the middle was a desk with all assorted items like the desktop, files, the cup full of different pens. On the side is a bookshelf with thick spines and marked in names you’ve never seen before. A couch on the opposite end with a thick duvet next to the armrest. If she ever needed to nap, she wouldn’t have to go far. 

Karina smiles at you with her glasses. A relief for her case - considering she’s been essentially locked up here in a call for the past hour or so, probably more. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I just wanted to check in on you.” You answer, standing behind the chair, arms to her chest. 

“It’s past eight.” Karina realizes on her desktop, squinting. “You should probably eat something.” 

“I’d say the same for you.” 

“Can’t. I’ll join you once I get through this last stack of files.” 

“And I’m telling you to take a break,” you tell her, locking your arms. She shifts over so you’re half sitting on the edge, carding fingers into her hair. Her face looks tired - you could see it in the eyes alone. “Five minutes is all I ask. Maybe ten.” Karina hums low, looking up, wisps of hair falling at the front and her arms at the sides, exhausted. A mere luxury to see her like this. Your lip slightly quivers because of it. 

“I’m telling you,” she says, “No.” 

“Five minutes,” you repeat. 

“These binders aren’t gonna be cleared themselves. This stack on the desk should be the last of them.” 

“You can do that right after,” you’re saying. Knees in the space of hers and cupping her nape. “I want three minutes of your time.” 

“Three minutes is all I need for one binder.” Karina muses. 

“Also enough time to have a few bites of leftovers.” You reply back. 

“I can eat later.” 

“You don’t even want your beef broccoli?” 

To that, Karina stifles a laugh, hands around your bottom thighs. “If I can work through these, we’ll have a late night munch somewhere. Sound good?” 

Your lips fall flat. To be fair, you’re not asking for much - not the presence or the lovely meal treat. You were never one to reinforce bad behavior to get what you want or the attention along with it. If anything, you just want to be seen; a preferred approach would be Karina to think more than just herself. 

Karina gets up thanks to you, thumb dancing along her jaw. She leans down and kisses you, slowly. Each peck matching a step backward, unknowingly pulling her away from the desk and to the couch. You take the chance to gander down her slender neck. 

“Couch,” you beg, quietly. “For a few minutes.” To that, she complies, spinning around and sinking onto the cushions beneath. She exhales, dispersing breaths racked in her chest, eyelids lidded, fluttering; you dip down again to her neck, visible tension at the lines of her shoulders. 

She knows the untapped power you possess, carding your fingers through her hazel locks. Karina doesn’t flinch when you lay your palm flat over her crotch, feel her mouth go slack. You grin at that. 

“You’ve got a taste of me,” you whisper. “More than once, but I never got the chance to return the favor.” 

“It’s always better to hear you cry than have your fingers buried in me. Though, I won’t stop you,” Karina chortles, but the tone of her voice sounds unsure, sealing her own fate. 

You can’t ignore the throbbing between your legs, hopping on Karina’s lap and kissing her once more, panting down on her tongue as she helps you fiddle with the bottom buttons of her shirt - her pants. She tenses up even more, clawing your thighs and nearly tearing skin. 

“Baby,” you chant the pet name, it could drive her insane. “You deserve to.” 

Karina tilts her chin, eyes unwilling to meet at first, but soon locked with yours. Behind hers is the unrelenting desire of taking, selfishness would be an understatement. 

“If you let me,” you’re saying, lowly, between begging and desperation, “You won’t regret it.” 

She bobs her head on reflex, then repeats the same motion firmly: there’s your answer. 

Your fingers hook her pants and you pull them down as you kneel. 

The shudders her body makes when you lazily kiss her waist, fingers sliding up her thighs, the fabric of her panties tethered to her skin. You could spot the damp spot at the center - the evidence caused from you; she tenses at the mere hush of your breath over her core - you haven’t met anyone that’s wanted you this badly. 

Karina opens her shirt more as you slip her out of her panties, your face gets warmer. Glistening folds consuming your view, tongue coating with the first slow licks. You grin at the twitch in her hips, pepper her cunt with more kisses, and she fights against the press of your hands on her thighs, burying your mouth. 

You keep pace, see what responds to most. Sucking on her clit, slipping a finger or two inside her walls; even the subtle drag of your nails to her legs. She doesn’t offer you a moment to breathe, pulling your head back in, humming at her hot core - the grip in your scalp enough to be ripped off. 

“Oh- oh my christ-” moans Karina. “Like that. Honey, just like that-” 

She digs her heel into your collarbone, to help compensate for the three-digit-curl you got buried in her pussy. Nose to her clit, lapping up the slick as she comes down. Karina seethes as her eyes fall on you - the sight of licking your lips enough to make her lose it on the sofa. 

It’s a tumble from a kick of the foot, Karina straddling you with your wrists pinned above your head. “That’s the only one off you’ll get,” she sneers wickedly, the corner of her mouth twitching with power. “Now it’s my turn.” 

Somehow you’ve kept yourself calm, ignoring the pulse between your legs with her knee brushed up in the space. You try to break free from her grasp, only to fail. She meets you with another desperate kiss, sliding your pants down and ripping your panties off. Every move Karina does is a practical vice: clutching every bit of you and with no chance to resist. Your shirt is next to be slipped out, and her hot mouth adds on to the rising heat on your chest. 

You wince as she pinches a nipple, clawing your breast. “I love every part of you,” she breathes. Dipping down to your collar. Her hand pushes your leg, spreading you open. Fondling. 

The ache is unbearable. You need her to satiate it. 

Karina hushes into your ear, coaxing. “Shh, shh. I’ve got you. What do you need? Tell me.” 

“Karina,” you gasp, “God, please.” 

“I’ll give it to you,” she whispers back. “If you want me.” 

You nod feverishly as she palms your cunt. As soon as the press of her thumb nubs the entrance, your gut tightens like it’s ready for a punch. “Look at you, all ready for it.” 

“You- fucking-” 

“Oh, I know darling.” She says into your shoulder, finding that sweet spot she discovered a while back. “It isn’t enough anyway.” 

Karina loves doing this - while you’re clenching around her fingers. You grab her hand and she groans, curling two digits inside. She licks the tears weeping out at the corners, reveling in adoration. 

“Deliberate little girl,” she praises, looking down at the motion of her fingers spreading you open. “Love having you like this; having you clamp my hand-” 

“Yes,” you agree, mind and body twisted to the touch. 

She doubles down on the rubbing, clashing tongue and teeth with you as your whole body goes slightly limp from the stimulation. It’s everything you’ve wanted - dreamed of - cumming with no reprieve and yelling at the top of your lungs. Karina’s three fingers and thumb press at your clit makes you cum again in no time. 

You lean up weakly to kiss her, taste the salt on her taste buds and suck up her mouth once the pleasure’s all washed away, in thanks. You’re thankful she could make you feel like you’re in heaven and it goes way beyond just the sex. The nook in your brain is occupied by her, and only her. 

“Very lovely of you,” sighs Karina, licking your chin, eyes lidded like she’s the one cumming now. “One more, for me.” 

She places her hand in the same spot as you bracket her hips, building the same pace in her fingers as before. “Hold me- just like this, just like-” 

Then she pauses, failing to register the ear-piercing squeal ringing the glass and her eardrums by you. Her other hand pressing firmly on your bottom lip, feeling the gush of your pussy on her fingertips. 

“Sorry,” Karina says first, hesitant. “I’d keep going, but I’ll kill you in the process.” 

Your fingers curl around her hand, pushing in deeper. She drops a confused look over you. “Why not?” 

She scowls at the clench. “You’re asking for it, aren’t you?” 

“Who says I am? It’s just the reaction.” 

Karina’s eyes shimmer with a renewed fire, sparked with intent. “I’ve never failed in achieving all the things I’ve sought out to do. Because I knew I could do it. You’re not safe either because there’s things I want involving you too, right?” 

Oh fuck. Your mouth quirks, without the sound airing the words. “Why don’t you prove it-” 

She’s quick to scoop you up from the floor, arms hoisting you by the ass. “I’m gonna make you cum again, but I need you to sit on my face first.” 

You laugh heartily as Karina rushes down the hall to her bedroom, the laughing progressively getting louder deep in the apartment. 

–

Yunjin calls you once the cooler, autumn air starts to prick at the tips of your ears. Her name on the phone screen and you’re dancing with the idea of not answering, but for another time: “Hi, Jen.” 

“Cousin.” Yunjin greets that isn’t a hello. “Are you busy right now?” 

“Class got dismissed,” you drawl, smirking. “On my way home actually.” 

“Usually you’re with one or two people if I recall.” 

“I mean, yeah?” You answer. “Not today since everyone’s out within speed dial.” 

“Even the two girls who look like top models for the MET gala?” 

“Wonyoung? Or Yujin?” You remark. “That’s a cute compliment, but they’re also focusing on their own studies. Even when they’re not putting the dating title to themselves, yet.” 

“What about you? Are you doing the same thing?” 

You stop short. It shouldn’t mean much, anyway. Knowing Yunjin, she’d ask depending on the importance. You’re hoping the safe answer would be enough to suffice: “I don’t have time for lovey dovey stuff.” 

“You said that last time.” 

“Yet you’re asking me again.” You dart back. “I would’ve brought it up as the first thing if that were the case, especially since the holidays are around the corner.” 

“The occasion doesn’t technically apply to this conversation.” 

“Jen, we all have things that aren’t worth sharing.” 

“I wasn’t even prying to begin with. It was just making sure you’re not sulking around being lonely.” Her voice rises aggressively. “Jeez, listen to the intonation.” 

You wince, stopping at the top of the stairway onto the main street from campus. “Sorry, I just wanted to know why the sudden inquiry.” 

“You’re doing the same thing again: not texting or calling me back. I assumed that you were busy getting your life in place that wasn’t just talking to auntie Sakura.” 

“This grad program is the ticket to my dream life, Yunjin.” You say, voice soft and with a scrunch of your nose. “Things have been a bit- hectic, recently.” 

“I’ve figured.” Yunjin replies before the call gets muted - which you can only assume that she was still at work and typically on break around this time. “By the way, auntie said she can’t make it up for the weekend. Plus I’m gonna be busy well into the break, so there’s a high chance we won’t see each other.” 

It was always work, that’s the excuse. Yunjin’s been like this since your high school days. You’ve tried to pry every now and then, but it would always end with Yunjin hanging you out without an answer. “Finals are coming up anyway, plus the supplementary courses are taking a toll as it is.” 

“But we always see each other for thanksgiving since you got to college.” 

“It’s just one of those times where it doesn’t work out, I get it.” 

“You’re sure there isn’t anything fishy going on with you?” 

“There isn’t, Jen.” you into the phone. “If there was, you would’ve been the first to know.” 

(A part of you cares, but the rest could be disregarded. You think Yunjin would be concerned for having the same feeling hidden within as well.)

Yunjin sighs. “If you do call me, I’ll answer right away. I hope you remember that.” 

You stare down Yunjin’s name and contact photo, looking up with a weight off your shoulders. 

–

A few days later, the doorbell gets your attention. You swing the door open with the heater running and there’s- 

Wonyoung. 

She stands across with folded arms, her prime resting bitch face for you to see. “Am I like your cousin now?” 

“What?” 

“You haven’t been getting back to me,” she accuses, walking past you with the trail of Tiffany & Co. wafting behind. She slips out of her trench coat and sets her bag down on the counter. “Spill,” Wonyoung demands. “I need to hear everything she did.” 

“Wony, what the fuck.” 

“Don’t ‘what the fuck’ me. Ms. "I'm hooking up with my older-rich-secret-girlfriend’.” 

You’re left astounded. Wonyoung usually has that effect on people. “Look, I can explain-” 

“I let it slide for the past few weeks or so,” says Wonyoung. “But putting your phone on perma DND - without giving me a heads up? That shit doesn’t fly by me.” 

You nod. “So that’s what this is about. I didn’t even realize-” you’re checking the calendar app, ensuring her point adds up. “Oh shit. Wonyoung, I- oh no, I’m so sorry-” 

To your assumptions, you have been closing yourself off from the others. Wonyoung’s messages on the left side occupy the whole screen. Messages from your best friend. Besides her, Karina was only the other person (and auntie Sakura on occasion) you’ve kept your time open to; when you brush over the last conversation with her, it was about exchanging- 

Hm. 

“Fuck,” you huff, head full of disappointment, taking Wonyoung’s hands and pulling her towards the couch. “Wonyoung, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ve been meaning to tell you, Yujin, fucking Miyeon- hell, anybody about my recent updates. I guess-” 

“Sounds like somebody’s in love.” Wonyoung eases. 

“Pretty much,” you laugh, “I mean- my TA said my current research project is coming along well. If anything, life’s been pretty good to me.”

Wonyoung applauses, patting your thigh. “That’ll be cool to see you showcase it at the department event next spring! Aren’t you excited?” 

“Hell yeah,” you grin. 

Wonyoung scooches closer. “I didn’t mean what I said, about the whole ignoring me part. Yujin and I used to be like you, and I know it was a pain in the ass to make time for me.” 

“In some ways,” you admit. 

“You wanna elaborate?” 

“Well you and Yujin are dating, Karina and I are-” 

Your mouth freezes, looking away. Wonyoung always noticed when something was up. She pulls you in for a hug, cheek to the bridge of your collarbone. “You don’t have to say it, I know,” she whispers. But you slightly shake your head in denial. 

“It’s a bit confusing to say, let alone think.” 

“You’ve been on the honeymoon phase already. Maybe it’s time to finally step back and reconsider what you want for yourself.” Wonyoung says. “There’s other ways to make money and plus-” she massages your arm, “-you don’t really need her.” 

You’re somewhat in denial, but hopeful to stay with the truth. “I don’t,” you breathe, it’s an instilled belief. “I can get by on my own.” 

–

Remind yourself: one thing shouldn’t affect the other. 

Even if the one of many things are your thoughts with Karina occupying your mind way more than it should, it’s substituted with a variety of options: socializing, the thesis, keeping Wonyoung in the loop. With the additional money left over, it also calls for some makeovers- 

“When I said a ‘makeover’,” Karina says over the phone, you smirk while shoulder to ear. “I thought it meant like- freaking clothes or bags amongst all things, but-” 

“I’ve been meaning to get new stuff for the place,” you exclaim, phone now on speaker, on top of a box against the wall. “It was between the new desk or the dresser. Those were top priority.” 

“So you went with the dresser?” 

Granted, Karina wasn’t asking about the furniture. It was more on the amount of money sent being enough to get the damn thing in the first place. You’ve got your tongue on teeth, smiling. “The dresser.” 

“Babe, I gave you my card so you could get some stuff for yourself.” 

You examine the card between your fingers. “And I did. It is something for myself.” 

“You’re not actually gonna start building it, right?” 

“Uh, I am.” 

“You’re gonna need help. I’ll do it if it’s fine with you.” 

You shake your head, “I’ve done this already, and with Wonyoung’s help of course.” 

“How much do you wanna put if I can get it finished before your initial answer, hm?” 

“We are not doing an over-under on a freaking dresser, Karina.” You groan. 

“Watch me,” she huffs over the phone. “I’ll be there in twenty.” 

–

Karina manages to get most of the dresser done, in the midst of all the curses and wiping sweat off her face from time to time. Her hair’s in a low and loose ponytail, shirt folded and hanging off the waistline of her pants. It’s salivating for you to see her a black sports bra. “I can help you if-” 

“You’re not moving from that bed,” she points to you with the pliers, scowling. “Give me a few minutes.” Funnily enough, she was almost done. The last bit was putting the drawers in and putting the handles together. 

While that was happening, you made an effort to work on your thesis- or study, but most of the words in the book started to blend together. The same could be said for reading, no luck there. Irene’s texts were even drier than the heat after you found out she and Seulgi went out together. Yes, it was good news, but Karina fixing her bra is the current report. 

“This mesh is fucking terrible,” she says to herself. 

“Should’ve taken off the last layer,” you mutter. 

“That would be flashing you, indirectly.” Karina snaps, eyes narrowed. “I apologize if it’s distracting.” 

“It wouldn’t be,” you retort. She was already on edge earlier when Wonyoung spontaneously called you about Yujin’s latest shoot. The next worst thing you could’ve possibly done is unintentionally give Karina a show on the bed but the pride got overshadowed by the shyness altogether. 

“Alright,” she twists the screw and pushes the drawer in, sighing with relief. “I think we’re done.” 

You sit up on the bed and see Karina fiddle with the six drawers. Kneeling at one end before moving around for a final check. Once she’s done, she pats the top, happy with her handiwork. “Should’ve put money on it.” 

“But it would’ve been a meaningless bet,” you laugh. 

“In the end, I get to keep my money.” Karina beams, raising her arm to stretch one side, and her face warps. She’s rubbernecking her neck and shoulder in discomfort. “God damnit.” 

That makes you stand up and walk over. “What happened?” 

“I don’t- ah,” she winces. “Of course it’s the same fucking- muscle, jesus.” 

Luckily, she doesn’t fight your help towards the bed, nestling in the cushions while you feel out her body on your palms. She squirms a bit at the double stack of thumbs on the spine, waiving with her fingers. “A little more to the left.” 

You take that into account and listen to her request, knee to her side and pressing firmly. Karina’s head plops into the pillow. It makes you giggle. 

“You’re enjoying this,” she says into the sheets. 

“So you don’t want the help?” 

She resists your moving fingers, tensing. “You’re definitely enjoying this.” 

“To be fair- your back was hunched most of the time, I think the signs showed as soon as you got up.” 

“I rarely hunch my back,” drawls Karina. “Except this once, I guess.” 

“Which is completely fine, and look-” Karina tenses up again and balls her fists with the sheets between her fingers, “-okay, you’re not gonna get anywhere if you don’t like my hands all over you.” 

She mumbles a soft sentence. You notice at the last second. 

“You’re not old,” you tell her. “I heard that.” 

“It’s not common to have a strained back from standing all day,” Karina huffs. “I swear-” 

“Pretty common if you don’t deal with it right away,” you say dryly. “And I’m not the one studying medicine here.” 

Karina curses into the pillow, fully relaxing to your touch. You kiss her neck and tickle her ear. “I’m just messing around.” 

“You really like taking advantage of my groveling,” she says, perking her head around while you finish kneading the tense knots. “It kinda concerns me.” 

“I’m just good at managing your sour attitude,” you sigh, kissing her temple. “My own words of wisdom.” 

You pinch both of her shoulders, burying your nose into her hair. She turns her head the same direction and pecks your cheek. There’s a quick moment of gazing into each other’s eyes before meeting lips again; no rush carried, but that gets negated with the urgency of hands to thighs. Karina slips out of her bra while you straddle, chest exposed for you, yearning at the sight of the rolling hips on hers. 

She’s quick to grab your neck and pull you in, breathing into your mouth. Her thigh lifts and brushes your clothed cunt, making you freeze at the sudden pressure. You push down on her leg and move your hips, feeling her breath quiver from the sounds escaping past your teeth. “I was expecting you to touch yourself- watching me all sweaty and icky and-” 

“Fuck, you’re insane.” You could’ve, really. She’s absolutely right. 

Karina pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around her head, heaving into her open mouth. The friction between your legs hunches you over. Her teeth opening to your smile and the both of you laugh at the same time. 

That is, until the doorbell rings. 

You look over before Karina steals your attention back on her. “Nuh uh,” she coos, licking your collarbone. “Stay on my leg, just like that.” 

Your fingers card her hair, grasping the scalp, imagining the hunger in her eyes once she’s down on you - enough to send tremors in your throat. Then the beeping of the new lock on the door fills your ears. 

“It’s me.” Yunjin’s muffled voice is heard beyond the door. “When the fuck did you get a passcode knob?” 

“Why now,” you mutter, hushed curses weeping past your lips. Of all times, why the fuck would you show up now? 

Karina loosens her grasp, sitting up as you hobble off the bed. Fixing your clothes and checking your face. “Who’s at the door?” 

“Yunjin,” you answer, panic coursing in milliseconds. “She’s my cousin.” 

“Oh,” Karina freezes, “Is that a-” 

“Exactly what it is,” you quip. “If I’m seen with you, I’m in deep shit.” 

“You’re not serious.” Karina’s shoulders slump. “Why can’t I-” 

“Don’t try it, Karina.” You instruct and you’re bolting to the front door. A turn of the lock and you open the door, seeing Yunjin shoulder her bag, flipping a few ends of her hair. 

You tense before putting on the figurative mask: “Yunjin!!!! Hello!!” She purses her lips back at you, tapping your arm as she walks in, noticing the small bundle of boxes left nearby the door. “I wasn’t expecting you to make the trip up.” 

“Should’ve mentioned you were redecorating,” she chuckles, setting her things down. “When did that happen?” 

“Well, a few days ago,” you answer. “It was about time anyway.” 

“A heads up would’ve been nice.” 

“What for?!” You exclaim. “You expect me to call you about every little thing about my life?” 

“I don’t. Only in the case where you’re buying things above the paygrade.” 

You pat down the box. “Clearance goes big when it happens.” To that, Yunjin arches a brow, accepting the assumption. “By the way, you didn’t let me know about stopping by.”

“You’re on break,” she tells you. “I figured I'd save the trouble.” 

“Yet you told me about the busy schedule, and Sakura-” 

“She knows I’m visiting,” she adds, giving a long gaze towards your direction. From the eyes alone; they’re cold, but curious beneath the hazel irises. “Two out of three is better than none.” 

“Right,” you say, slow. “I- uh, just ran out of food. And I was gonna go out-” 

“Why is your face red?” Yunjin suddenly asks. “Don’t tell me you were masturbating-” 

“Yunjin. For fuck’s sake. No.” 

Unfortunately, that answer isn’t enough to convince her. Suddenly your name echoes down the hallway, and Karina walks into the light - her appearance cleaned up and smirking devilishly towards Yunjin. 

“You wanna explain to me-” Yunjin stutters, “Who is this woman?” 

“Yunjin!” 

Your cousin folds her arms, eyebrows creased and fingers tapping skin at a fast pace. “This isn’t one of your friends, let alone a person that I know, too.” 

“Yu Jimin,” Karina supplies, sticking her hand out in offering. “I go by Karina amongst friends.” Yunjin, as you’d expect, isn’t buying any of this. She walks back to you, facing off with a similar height and mannerisms.  

“I hope you have a really good explanation for all of this.” Your cousin seethes, in all obvious points of pissed. 

–

Yunjin death-grips your wrist, drags herself out to the walkway outside, pulling you like a little kid having a tantrum type of thing. “So? Who is she?” 

You hesitate - a bad move already. She stands tall across while Karina waits back inside. How having her close by would be a whole lot better than the latter. “Hello? Am I talking to a fucking wall?” 

In her case technically, she is. “My-” 

“Spit it out.” 

“My girlfriend.” Suddenly your tongue feels like sandpaper. 

“I’m not buying it.” She sighs, unimpressed.

“Because she doesn’t match the look of her age?” 

“You didn’t even tell me that,” Yunjin spits after, put-off. 

“She’s thirty.” You supply, indignant. 

“And that’s a seven year gap compared to you.” 

“I’m twenty four in a couple months,” you retort. “Besides, I didn’t ask for your opinion.” 

“I expected you to date someone around your age.” 

“Wow.” You can’t be bothered about the insult. “How old is your little fling? Kazuha was her name, right? Answer me that.” 

“You knew better. Putting yourself out there to be taken advantage of is not how we raised you.” 

“Jen, you don’t think I know that?! My life is my own to live. Sometimes that requires me to thrive in isolation in order to achieve the things that I want.” Yunjin’s expression goes blank. Clearly unconvinced. “Karina’s treated me well, anyway! She makes sure that I’m not in a sour mood, and just very supportive and understanding. Can’t you see-” 

“What about your finances?” She suddenly asks you. “I haven’t heard about that from you in a while.” 

“I don’t complain about it that much anymore.” 

“I’ve seen the tuition bill, genius.” Yunjin deadpans. “Now: where did you get the money?” 

In a nanosecond, your brain short circuits. You can’t blatantly lie in front of your fucking cousin, because that’s just wrong. It’s not in your nature. Honesty is a key part in your personal coat of arms: “Okay, I-” 

“If money is the concern, then that’s something you mention to me. Not her.” A voice swivels Yunjin and your attention to Karina, standing in the open door. She seems calm, but you can see her masked anger hiding within. Your stomach drops ten floors, the bob in your throat clogging up the airway- 

Yunjin, not to your surprise, brings the fight to her: “Alright then. What’s your deal, huh?” 

“My deal is that pressuring your little cousin isn’t gonna get you anywhere.” Karina answers. “Like I said: if money’s the main issue, then you bring it to my attention.”

Karina stares down Yunjin’s subtle nod. “Okay miss priss. I’ll allow that.” 

“I’m just stating my case,” Karina drawls. 

“You haven’t made a case for yourself,” she replies back.

“I have no issue with her, and the same could be said on her part too.” You’re left in awe, jumbling fingers together since you’re nervous. Yunjin notices Karina fixing her wrist, the same seiko watch you remember seeing the night you met. 

“Pretty well off for a woman like you,” Yunjin assesses. “That’s not daddy’s money now, is it?” 

“Yunjin, christ.” You cringe at her backhanded complement.

“The bankroll’s a lot kinder to me,” Karina beams, and Yunjin shakes her head unconvinced. She gets a good look at her appearance and nods, but that could mean a few things. 

Yunjin takes a second to reconsider her angle, gazing down and looking back at you. “You’re still hungry, yeah?” 

“Yeah?” You shrug. “What does that have to do with-” 

“Okay, you’re hungry, End of story.” 

“Alright,” you say with rolling eyes. Yunjin looks right at Karina again. “Can the same be said for her?” 

“I’m starving,” Karina dishes candidly, tone flat. 

“Grab your jacket,” Yunjin tells the both of you. “I’m buying.” 

–

Yunjin takes you two to this one cafè on the eastside, ordering drinks for all three and giving Karina a neat sandwich salad plate since she insisted. You’re nursing your vanilla latte while Yunjin’s eyes are laser focused, burning into your head. Karina bites down her sandwich, humming in approval at the food. 

You place the cup down, meeting Yunjin’s expression and nudge Karina’s bumping knee, clutching to it and feeling her fingers caress yours, calming. 

“I still can’t believe you,” Yunin starts, disappointment unshaken. “Keeping a secret like this from me for a long while.” 

“Since I knew how this would be your reaction,” you snap. “Not liking the kind of shit I do for myself.” 

“Yourself?” 

“How I want to live my life. The way you wanna fucking micromanage every little detail from afar.” 

“In what way?” Yunjin prods, “Like how I’m treating you now?” 

“Calling you to update. Prying whenever you can.” 

“I”m only doing that because I’m worried.” 

“Worried about me lying.” You tense. 

“I never made that accusation.” 

“Yet the implication says otherwise.” 

Yunjin stops, sits up, prompts you to continue: “Every time you call is on a random day or every other hour. I don’t need you hovering the dial button because you think I’m gonna do something stupid.” 

“I’m only worried because-” she hangs her mouth open, losing the words on her tongue. “I just- want you to-” She stares down at her half-full cup of coffee. “Not make the same mistakes Rachel did to me, that’s all. That’s why I’m a bit on edge with you at times.” 

Karina picks up her empty plate. “I’m just gonna go-” 

“You’re fine, Karina.” Yunjin says, eyes full of life, relieved. “I was just about to head out, too.” 

“We just got here.” You say. 

“Already?” Karina asks. 

“I’ll save it for a proper conversation,” Yunjin tells the both of you. 

“Why save it when you can just let it out right here?” Karina suggests, smirking. To that, Yunjin chuckles, fixing her scarf. 

“Don’t get all cocky because I let you off the hook,” says Yunjin. “You want to do good for us? Make the right choices.” 

–

You and Yunjin share a hug outside the cafè, Karina watching with her arms folded. 

“I”m sorry, Jen. I should’ve said something sooner-” 

Yunjin puts a hand up, “You idiot, saying it now won’t save the damage.” She then awkwardly pats your shoulder, fixes your messy hair after. “Look, I just want what’s best for you. Plus, you’re well off with things lined up in your horizon, so keep it that way. Call me back, or don’t. I can’t make that decision for you.” 

Before you could utter a response, Yunjin had already walked back to her car, pulling away from the curb and blending into the traffic. Once she’s out of sight, your posture dips and the depression washes over you. “What in the fuck am I doing?” 

“Self-lament isn’t what she said to me about you, by the way. Lighten up.” Karina helps you straighten out, rubbing your arm for warmth. “She already planned on leaving when we got here.” 

“Why would she even-” 

“Everything she wanted to say was already said,” Karina answers. “For both of us.” 

“What about the convo back in the apartment?” 

“My answer matters more than her question.” 

“What did you say?” You ask, a hint of worry building in your bones. 

Karina hugs you from behind, softly laughing. “What’s important is solely on you.” She says that like it’s the reality - even in the back of your mind you believe it to be true - with her voice smooth as silk and hands cradling your head. You melt into her, sinking. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, we’re fine. Really, we are.” 

“I know-” you sputter, “I just feel like shit about this whole situation.” 

“You shouldn’t. If anything, that only piques my interest even more.” Karina grins. “Comparing your family to mine, my sister’s got her own shit to deal with and my step sister is a different story. That’s why I turned down going home for the weekend.” 

“Does that mean you’re working?” You then wonder. Karina grasps your hands, sniffing your neck. 

“Pain and people are a terrible combination.” She sighs. “But it pays the bills. Big bills.” 

An idea sparks in your brain, “Let’s go somewhere.” 

“What happened to eating?” 

“I eat here way too many times with Irene,” you say. “Plus I’ve been meaning to run errands.” 

“On that note, I never told you that I can make a meal.” 

Karina’s face lights up, eyes perked in excitement. “Dinner’s still on the cards, yes?” 

“You never said you were a chef.” 

“Until now.” Karina notes. “A good chicken dish, too.” 

Your arms drop. “I still need a few things.” 

“Fine. The station is up ahead here and we can just grab the other things spontaneously at the convenience store if needed.” She says as she takes your hand, leading you on this adventure. “Sound okay?” 

“Yes.” 

–

(You wonder. Of all the possibilities. The way she has your hand in her pocket - kissing your hand without a care prior - like she only saw you and the rest of the world faded from her view. Batting those lashes which makes yours mirror the same effect. 

When she holds you close in the cramped subway car, you can’t help but laugh into her sweater. 

Maybe you do settle with the best parts of Karina, and you desperately want it to stay.) 

–

Here’s another thing you learn about her: she’s not one to waste time. 

She grabs whatever she needs and doesn’t float around wandering. Only looking at the assorted wine choices for a minute before checking out. A pack of chicken breast and a few vegetables in a shopping bag. 

You hail a taxi outside and play a game of footsies in the car, stifling a laugh while the driver looks in his rearview and Karina’s pinching her neck when the noise gets too antsy. She whispers to you how normalized misery is among people, because they’re deprived of an aspect they’re longing for. 

Thankfully for the driver’s case, it was only a two-stop back to the apartment. Karina’s got her arm locked with yours and you can’t shake the delight in your bones, heart beating madly like it’s about to burst. You stare up at her while opening the door, sensing the luxury of what coming home with someone feels right at this moment. 

You’re quick to get back inside and turn on the heater. Karina sets down the shopping bag and shrugs her coat off to the chair nearby. She’s assessing the lay of the land, opening cupboards for ingredients within reach. You stop in your tracks and watch her get comfortable. As if she’s been around for a long time. 

“A grilled chicken dish,” you breathe, smiling. “How healthy.” 

“My specialty,” Karina says, placing a bowl in front of her. “Mom used to make it all the time. Probably the only thing I know how to cook and cook it well.” 

“The ‘ol reliable,” you’re cackling. “Yunjin and I would make egg fried rice even if we didn’t crave it specifically.” 

“Fried rice trumps all,” agrees Karina. She sets the two pieces of chicken breast on the wooden  board, testing the pointed edge of the knife, beginning to slice evenly cut slices. “I also noticed, you have a bottle of Petit Manseng just sitting in your fridge?” 

“Gift from a coworker,” you supply. “A going away present when she moved overseas.” 

“There’s a difference between a decent wine and high-end wine.” Karina tells you, placing two glasses and pouting a small amount in both of them. “Trust me, I would know.” 

You coo, swirl the wine in the cup. Clink the glasses together. “To homemade cuisine.” 

“Not bad for a last minute dinner.” Karina says, sipping. The two of you taste the sweet burn of the beverage. You watch as she turns around and tends to the sizzling pot. A thought bubbles in your mind, but you finish off the drink to drown any slimmer of optimism. 

It’s nice, to be honest. How easy living like this could be. The sight of Karina making herself at home - your home. 

You then stand and approach Karina, leaning into her with slithering arms wrapped to her waist, cheek to shoulder. In compliment, she leans back slightly, nuzzling her head with yours. The both of you want the branding of affection to stay on your skin. 

“Food’s almost done,” she tells you, hushed. Forehead to yours and breathing you in. “Go back, babe.” 

You’re pulling away, unable to fight the gravity in your feet, drifting further and further. 

–

Karina sets down the fork on the plate after finishing her spoonful of grilled teriyaki chicken, watching you scrunch your nose at the food melting in your mouth. See? Told ya it was good.” 

You move your head side to side, humming gleefully. “I have so much respect,” you say, tapping your middle and thumb fingertips over the dish, “For you to cook an easy meal.” 

“I never said I was a bad cook,” replies Karina. 

“I didn’t imply that you were,” you retort. 

Out of nowhere, Karina lunges forward and presses you into the cushions, making you laugh uncontrollably. Her hand ghosts over your chest, pinching your middle, and you take a heaving breath while stuttering a warning about the coffee table, but that wasn’t the problem at all. “Karina! No, please!” 

“Why not?” She asks, cradling your jaw. “I thought you were a touchy person.” 

“Around friends!”

“So I’m not your friend.” Ouch. You could see the hidden wince warp on her face. 

“Never said that.” You say. “These are serious allegations, mind you.” 

“Too bad,” Karina tells you, her leg between yours and sinking down on top. “You won’t be able to argue soon.” 

“Don’t!” And that’s the last word you say before Karina’s bombardment of fingers takes over your body. You try to resist with all your might, but it’s hopeless. She relishes in your laugh almost teetering into a cry; when she finally thinks you have enough, she nuzzles her nose into your neck, gently kissing it. 

“Had enough yet?” asks Karina. You don’t give her an answer. 

More fingers join the fray. “Okay! Okay! Karina, stop-” 

“Such an actress,” she huffs, resting her hands on your hips and grants you a few seconds to breathe. When that’s done, you cling onto Karina, nose hovering above your ear canal, sighing like the hurricane of anxiousness becomes no more. 

“Hey,” she starts, “How does a movie sound?” 

“What’d you have in mind?” You then ask. “We can see what they’re streaming.” 

“I was thinking something cozy, melancholic.” 

“Like a romance?” 

“Maybe a sad romance.” 

“Good god,” you chuckle. “I never thought you’d be one to cry over dramatized things.” 

“If they’re done well,” Karina explains. She blinks twice before registering your dull expression. “I’m being serious.” 

“‘If they’re done well,” you repeat. “It would have to be something that takes me by surprise, like something completely unexpected.” 

“Oh, you’re that kind of genre enjoyer.” Karina says dryly. 

“Blame my ex for shifting my perspective,” you dart back defensively. “If anything, it’s her fault.” 

“I guess fuck her too, then,” she agrees in relent. “Don’t blame me if you’re sobbing a puddle by the end of it.” 

“That depends,” you say as she goes through the catalog: Love, Rosie, Me before You, My Oxford Year. Karina goes with the third choice. “What about that old debate about books being better than the movies?” 

Karina leans back as the movie starts on the screen. “Subjective, depending on what you watch.” You snort, trying your best to hide your laugh. All she does next to you is shake her head in disappointment and keep her eyes on the TV as you eventually come back down to watch. 

–

Way later, Karina hands a box of tissues at you because you cried while huddling the armrest of the couch, reaching for the glass of water she got earlier during the movie before finishing it completely. “Sorry,” she says. “They called me in for an early shift tomorrow. I’ll have to leave soon.” 

You have the urge to plead her not to go, scream it at the top of your lungs. Though, you say nothing in the end and watch as she gathers her things, wrapping the burberry scarf around her neck as she stands by the door. She then opens the door - letting the chill in, and she shields you, hugging you close. 

Karina moves a wisp of hair off your face, her shimmering eyes in all its glory for you to see. You still don’t want her to leave. “I’ll be off in the afternoon, most likely,” she announces. “You’re not busy by then, right?” 

You nod, coughing at the air curling your legs. “Yeah.” 

Her thumb grazes your temple, and she dips down to kiss you; a small hint of soy sauce still left on her lips. You get a head of yourself, pushing your head forward, but she sees this and stops the attempt. A soft smile is given as an apology and you pull away. Karina chuckles and pinches your ear cuff. 

“I’ll see you again,” she tells you, kissing soon after. 

“Okay,” you sigh. 

When she closes the door, you don’t move at all. Torn between running out to get her or staying inside. 

–

Right after the break, the guest speaker comes to campus. 

You’re on your way out from the lecture hall when someone calls the name a little too loudly. It's only the next two or three times that the same person is running closer towards you like some crazed super-fan. “Hey! You got a second?” 

“Miyeon. Hi.” You greet, muting a chuckle. 

“Almost thought you didn’t show up,” she says. “You’ve been pretty much non-existent since midterms.” 

“You mean to tell me you’re still mentally stable after our exams?” 

“Oh, of course not,” Miyeon answers with her trademark cheeriness. “I slept for a third of the talk anyway.” 

Your face warps, from genuine confusion to puffed cheeks into a fast cackle. Miyeon scratches her head before you could collect yourself. “I worked closely with her during my volunteer hours.” 

“The lecturer?” 

“Mrs. Ningning Yizuho, yes.” 

“How did you-” 

“Close connection with another colleague.” Miyeon provides a shrug. “She’s very intimidating. I can still bring you two together!" 

“Sure,” you casually agree. “Lead the way.” 

Miyeon enters back into the room and walks towards the pit, seeing a refined brunette in a white quarter-zip speaking with another professor from the department. She calls her name, getting her attention, eyes widening in disbelief. “Miyeon Cho? Oh my goodness.” 

“Indeed it is,” beams Miyeon, acknowledging the other professor’s presence while they step away to give you three some space. “Lovely lesson, by the way. It was amazing.”

“Glad to hear that!” Ningning says back. “I hope you’ve been doing well since our time together?” 

“Splendidly,” Miyeon says. 

“Hopefully your internship with Ms. Song is going well, too.” 

“I’m working on my overall assessment on the given assignment. On top of that, I help in some of the various courses throughout the department. Which reminds me-” Miyeon motions you forward. “I’d like to introduce you to my good friend in one of the lectures.” 

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say, presenting the niceties with an extended hand. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about your work.” 

Ningning’s features are emboldened in close proximity. Her dark, auburn hair in waves highlighted with a gentle blush on her cheeks. Her eyes are similar to another individual, sharp and sheltering intelligence. It’s oddly uncanny. Yet you settle on the fact that she would’ve owned the runway if she didn’t have a PhD. 

“Your name sounds very familiar,” Ningning tells you. “And you said she’s-” 

“One of the top standout students in the grad program,” Miyeon butts in. 

“I see-” Suddenly, Ningning’s eyes spark. Filled with knowledge and realization. “Ah- yes. Yes! I know. Wow!” 

“Yes?” You ask puzzledly. 

“Why didn’t I see it before?!” Ningning exclaims. “Are you acquainted with Karina?” 

“Karina?” The dots in your head start to connect instantly. Ningning. Karina’s family member. The stepsister she mentioned a while back. It was in the freaking family photo next to the dresser. Her and Karina sitting in the front row of the portrait. 

“Oh.” Your mouth forms the utterance. 

“That’s amazing!” Ningning’s voice pitches higher in excitement. “Wow!” 

“May I ask,” Miyeon waves her hands between you two. “Who is Karina, exactly?” 

“My stepsister,” Ningning replies, gaze full of delight. “We both work in the medical profession together.” 

“Karina’s-” your voice hangs for a second. “-talked-” 

“She was with me very recently,” answers Ningning. “Brought up psychology, but didn’t tell me about the institution you were learning at.” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I assume the info was need to know.” 

“Well, we most certainly found out,” Ningning smirks. “Regarding your field of study-” 

“It’s psychology with an emphasized focus on kids in an educational setting.” You say, presenting Miyeon in the flip of the plus one. “Miyeon’s been helping me get connections along with my project later in the spring.” 

Miyeon nods her head willingly, a bit thrown off since she just explained your story already. 

“Connections,” Ningning says pensively. “Good thing Ms. Cho here was sweet enough for me to get acquainted with you. Finally, at least.” 

“Better to start now than later,” you smile.

“Karina did tell me that your assignments have been-” Ningning smiles back with higher brows. “-tough, to say the least.” 

You bob your head, taking the truth to heart. “That’s weird,” Miyeon then says. “I’ve only met Ms. Jimin once through Ms. Yiz, but how do you know her? That's my question.” 

Miyeon sees your flashed look, thinking of the mixed aroma of calamari and steak intertwined with decent wine. The night where you’ve got money in your pocket from a complete stranger, and you’ve got no way to explain much like Karina’s demeanor. 

Ningning, sweeps the question her way. “A great girl like her,” she says to you, “Has been the best thing about Karina’s life so far.” 

You let the compliment sink into your mind, swirled with the deep thoughts of dread. As much as you wanted to move, you couldn’t. In Ningning’s words and how she presented it, all of it is drained out in seconds. The ‘great’ tidings she bore, diminished to nothing less than a simple goal of one’s ego. 

It hadn’t even been a week: Karina being in your space, holding you so dearly with her eyes and hands like you’re someone she’s been searching for all her life. All of it made you forget that it was just your head - running the false play as if it were legitimate, and real. 

So full of stupidity, and pride. Shameful. 

“Does anyone else know?” Miyeon bumps your arm, nervously pulling her lips. It doesn’t register in your ears in the deafening white noise. “That you’re getting back into dating again?” 

Karina and you weren’t dating. It stings to admit reality. Mourning what you had. Karina said you were a prize. Not a lover. Just someone to be intimate and get the edge off with. 

“It was nice to meet you,” you say to Ningning, returning your false mask to light. “I’d love to connect with you some other time, really.” 

“Right,” says Ninging, dejected, or so you think. Considering how she grabbed your hands and hooked on to the cuff of your coat. Highlighting some sort of interest there. Maybe Karina told her about you, the things you two did together. Maybe she wanted to have her fun as well. “My info is reachable from your professors. If you need anything, call me.” 

You bow to her and Miyeon, motioning to leave. The linoleum turns into concrete until it meets the asphalt before you even look up. Clutching your phone with a shaking hand while you’re reeling from what just occurred. 

A tear falls on your cheek, then on the other while wiping. You feel like the things you’ve worked towards this were ripped away from you entirely. It probably has. 

Oh, how wrong you were, of everything. 

–

Your phone’s been set to ‘do not disturb’ for the time being. 

Normally, it would be brushed off like it’s nobody’s business - except that she’ll make it her regardless. Some check in with a worry like a ‘you’re okay, right?’ or ‘what happened?” while others are stupid moreso of ‘can I speak some shit about the same idiot at work today?’ 

Simply put: you’ve got no intention to contact Karina, at least for a little while. 

It’s partly your fault - failing to get Karina out of your head. Your productivity tanked and so did the effectiveness, both at work and at school, Miyeon can vouch for that especially. Meals get skipped, which could be doubled down on the depression. The effect of Karina being a key part in your daily routine has shown. You don’t even remember how you were before seeing her. 

Along the line, someone will send their flowers in recognition. Commending you for being as headstrong as you are, impressed to keep your life private as it is. Wonyoung begs to differ, since she’s also the kind of person to not stop until she has what she needs: 

“I am sick and tired of blowing up your phone!” You hear her yell down the hallway, bursting down the door like some FBI agent. It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday and she’s here on her usual antics which you’ve grown to be used to. “Look at me and stop drooping on your goddamn laptop!” 

Your face isn’t fazed. “Who said I was drooping?” 

“The same girl whose phone is practically unreachable,” Wonyoung snaps, tossing her handbag on the vanity and turning on the lights. “Irene and Wendy had to message me about you not showing up to class, meaning you’ve been cooped up here for God knows how long. Also, I had no knowledge of-” She sits prettily and swivels the chair back to you, all priss and royal-like, “-on top of the fact you’ve been moping and hiding. You’re on my personal shitlist.” 

“So what,” you mutter. “I stand by my actions.” 

“You’re also taking action by coming with us.” Wonyoung huffs as she stands and shuffles to the closet. Rummaging through your clothes until she picks out a violet shaded dress, bought by Karina. You look away in regret. 

“I’ve made it my goal, to get you outside,” says Wonyoung. “Yujin’s downstairs and I’ve got a few more faces coming over to meet us on the west side. Whether you like it or not, you’re getting out.” 

“No chance,” you tell her, knees to chin. 

“I think so.” 

“Try me.

“C’mon, why the ‘f’ not?

“Wonyoung,” you say with shut eyelids. “I- I just can’t.” 

“Aw wah,” Wonyoung coaxes, “And I don’t give two shits.” 

“Well fuck you,” you snap, flailing your arms in frustration. “I’m not in the mood. Not for drinking or going to the lower west side-” 

“Karina lives around there, doesn’t she?”

“That’s not the issue.” 

“So how am I gonna fucking convince you to go otherwise?!” Wonyoung raises her voice, exhausted. She picks up the dress and looks at it herself in the mirror. “I’m not leaving until you change your mind. And if you’re gonna be a bitch about it, I still don’t give three shits. You’re better off doing something to keep busy rather than hide here with your soft feelings for the foreseeable future. You fucking loser baby.” 

“Excuse me, rich bitch,” you clap back, agitated. “Maybe that’s just what I want to do with myself. Instead of taking my answer the first time, you couldn’t help but spew bullshit about messing with dating for the fun of it, and now I’m in this ordeal because of you, Wony. Don’t ever tell me you ever give a shit because I would’ve been better off alone than actually belong to someone who ever gave an ounce of care.” 

Wonyoung’s expression stays unchanged: prim and refined how it always appears. “Do you feel better now?” 

“I’m pissed,” you answer. “I’m always pissed.” 

“Which is okay,” she coaxes, corralling you into a hug and hiding in her shoulder. “You have me here as an outlet. Even when some of the things you yell about slightly concern me.” 

“This is all on me,” you tell her. “I’m sorry, Wonyoung.” 

“You are right though.” 

“The most you did was tell me about the app in the first place. It’s the whole reason why we’re at this point tonight. Now that I’ve realized what I really am to her.” 

Wonyoung pats your shoulder. “Sex is essential,” she chuckles, “I don’t need to tell you about my attachment issues with Yujin- or, my assorted toy collection. I’m still sensitive about letting you borrow my dildos.” 

You gasp, playfully freeing yourself from Wonyoung’s grasp. Her eyes light up when you smile. “Now, am I leaving you here or are you finally coming with us?” 

(A moment of pause, seeing the dress at the foot of the bed. You’ve tried it before, know where the spots shine with glitter and the curves are defined the most. How Karina’s jaw was on the floor in the fitting room and booked it to the stall. It pains to think about it, but Wonyoung’s point stands: you can’t do anything while staying in solitude, so it’s worth getting out.) 

Wonyoung’s brows lift high when she sees you grab the dress. “Get my makeup box,” you instruct her, and she’s kissing your forehead in elation. 

–

Yujin rolls down the window outside on the street, hailing you over with a hand raised. “Jesus fuck, girl. Do you wanna bet if you’re getting laid tonight?” 

“Uhm, Yujin- let’s not-” 

“Yujin, save the manners when we’re actually at the bars,” Wonyoung says while settling into the seat. “Plus the name alone is a trigger warning so take it easy.” 

“That bad, huh?” Yujin’s eyes darts to the rear view. “Say no more. We’re gonna have so much fun today, I’m super stoked.” Soon she pulls out into the street, wheeling down while you’re gripping the arm rest a lot tighter than usual. 

“For the love of God, please don’t get pulled over like last time,” Wonyoung tells Yujin, grinning when she sees your eyes bulge in nervousness. 

–

Luckily, on a late Saturday night, the traffic is pretty bearable if the drive’s less than twenty minutes. It’s a karaoke session in the front of the car while you're gazing up to the city lights, mixing them with the stars above, unwilling to gaze down and see the area you’ve learned very recently. Right before you could even close your eyes and breathe for a second, Yujin’s parked along the street and shuts off the engine. 

You’ve seen most of the clubs around this part of town, nothing surprising or stand-offish from most of them. Once past the bouncer, the ambiance of the place is speakeasy, and cozy. Broken by the occasional strobe lights and with the bass from the subwoofer’s past 110%. Wonyoung keeps you close through the crowd until the place breaks off into an elevated portion with private booths, a table with guests sitting on both slides. 

Irene peeks out and notices you three, sliding out and jogging towards you to say hi. Your face and hers go soft while you envelop her in a long overdue hug. 

“Do you get more beautiful every time I see you?” Irene asks, looking down while you’ve got the dress at the ends. “How is that even possible?!” 

“I should ask the same to you,” you yell back, the music way more louder with the roar of the audience. 

“Everyone else is here, look!” 

You follow Irene to the table, slotting back to the open spot where she’s next to a pretty woman with a wavy wolf cut, who you immediately pick out in excitement: “Seulgi!”

“Sup,” Seulgi greets back. “Good to see you.” 

“You and Irene, huh?” You nudge your friend’s elbow. “Happy to see it happen?” 

“Where’s yours?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, noticing a drink sliding across the table. “Still serving me off the clock are we?” 

“I’m not responsible for what happens to you this time.” Seulgi tells you as she presents the beverage. You acknowledge her warning and take the offer. Suddenly a voice gets Yujin’s attention: 

“Wonyoung! Hey!” 

The whole group looks over and sees four people filling in, two stunning women in the front, one guy in the back and a third girl in the middle. When they approach closer, her hair is a bright silver contrasting the all black fit. She waves when her eyes set on the group. 

She gets bombarded by Wonyoung’s hug. Wonyoung failed to hide her exclaiming because she was just really happy to see her. “You’re finally here, Winter!!” She then takes her hands and slither into the booth, glancing over to you, and faintly smirking. “Meet my sister’s coworker, Winter!” 

“Hi,” greets Winter, shaking your hand. She turns her head over and motions her finger for their friend’s attention. “Meet Somi, and that’s Jiwon.” 

“Pleasure,” you say, bowing your head.

“I’ve heard quite a bit from Wonyoung,” Winter continues, moving her shoulders closer to you. “A few times she comes over to see her sister’s shoots.” 

“She cherishes me too much.” 

“Exactly,” chuckles Winter. “An angel living among us. You really fostered pets while rooming with Wonyoung?” 

“One of the many things,” you remark, hand to the back of your head. “She didn’t complain, either.” 

“Are you just naturally kind-hearted?” 

“I’m flattered?” You say in shock while Somi and Jiwon sit on the opposite end. There’s a sense of uneasiness when Winter accidentally brushes your shoulder. 

“Anything else I should know that Wony has told me yet?” She then asks, leaning her head back with narrowed eyes. “If you’re willing to share.” 

“That depends,” you say. “What are you willing to know?” 

“Beats me,” answers Winter, adding: “What about grad school?” 

“Psychology,” you tell her for one. “I work at the library on campus while interning at the department. You didn’t know the last part there, right?” 

“Until now,” Winter says, cup in her hand. 

“What about you?” You ask, mirroring the same action as her and drinking the seltzer as an appetizer. “You work with Wony’s sister?” 

“I”m in the same modeling agency as her,” she says, scratching her neck. “So we’re in the office a good chunk of the week.” 

“And Wonyoung drops by every now and then?” 

Her lips twitch, hushing her chuckle. Winter undo’s her quarter zip halfway, setting her arm on the table. “You’re very impressionable, I like that.” 

“Thanks?” You say, face warm and legs pressed together tightly. Maybe all of this was a bad idea. “I-” 

“We can save the formalities later,” she says slyly, closing the proximity. “We both came here to have fun tonight, yeah?” 

–

In your natural compass, disregarding all morals between right and wrong: you do have fun in the end. 

Two mega glasses of the club’s finest brew is enough to get you over the edge. A bonus with the jello shots that’re too many to count. Winter eases into it as you’re quite the opposite. To let loose from a hard day’s work is enough to suffice, yeah? 

On the dance floor and near the stage is where you somehow find yourself in, bouncing between groups. Wonyoung and Yujin the first, then Irene and Seulgi the next. Both duos are dragging - pushing you back and forth, to the point where you make Irene squeal and drown each other beneath the light. 

This is enough to save you through the night. 

What’s more is that Winter gets on the floor as well, moving with the music. Seulgi spots this and tugs your arm to her direction, where you eventually fall into her arms, hands resting on shoulders. Her mouth is close, a little too close for your liking, but you’ll allow it. She gets closer. It’s damning how the look on her face appears to be one she had for thirty years - albeit thirty minutes in reality. 

“Why don’t we get out of here?” She leans in, her trademark flash of teeth short-circuiting your brain. 

“Maybe.” Your eyelids fall slowly. “What do you have to prove?” 

“What you want to prove to Wonyoung.” 

Probably the easiest thing to do, because of the alcohol, is give in. Nodding along with her lips dangerously next to yours. 

–

There’s quite a lot you give into. Winter’s got her hand wrapped at your neck while the other’s in your pants, curling a finger inside your cunt. Lips caressing the curve of your jaw and it’s really all incessantly fucked up: sleepy smiled and relishing in the blush across your cheeks. You’re pretty sure someone at the street will notice the alleyway, but who would ever look in the club’s primetime hours in the first place? 

“Has anyone ever said-” Winter kisses you when the moan slips out. “How beautiful you are?” 

You whimper at her sliding thumb on your lips, nail pressing on the flesh and one of her few patchwork tattoos. “Not really,” gasping when her ring finger joins the fray. “I rarely get compliments like that nowadays.” 

“A shame,” she says, sliding her arm under your back, nibbling on your chest. “I wouldn’t let that happen.” 

Here’s a backhanded compliment morphed into an observation for you: you’re a fucking dumbass, a hypocrite even. Despising what you preached only to be powerless at your new silver-haired ‘friend’ doing the Devil’s tempting work. You should’ve known better from babbling nonsense where Winter figured out which spots you liked best, how you wanted to be held, where her teeth graze and her fingers pinch. A complete opposite to the Winter you met over an hour ago, since this one likes to see you worked up and needy. 

You slip out of your dress some more, give more space to breathe - let Winter shove her hand in your panties. She giggles at the subtle flinch of your belly button. “Do you wanna keep going?” Winter asks, sinking down. See how your face warbles in delight. “I can give you everything.” 

Randomly, almost on impulse, your eyes refocus on what's happening, panicking as you push Winter down onto the floor. You cover yourself as the wind blows in. “I’m sorry, Winter.” 

“Wait-” 

“I just can’t.” 

You walk away and refuse to look back, fighting back tears. The next thing you do is get in your contact list and scroll down the names, tapping on one with the first ring not even going all the way through: “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“I need to see you,” you shakily say to Karina, extending a hand out for a taxi. “It’s urgent.” 

“Okay, but are you sure? You sound on edge.” 

“I just-” you stutter, teeth chattering from the chill. “I just need to get out of here, please.” 

“Can you wait? I’ll come down-”

“No, don’t.” You say. “I’ll do it myself.” 

“Honey-” The name pierces your ear, and you end the call. 

–

The cab ride over to Karina’s is a little over ten minutes. An extra minute or so when putting the fee for the mileage, stumbling out of the car soon after. Then there’s also the small tweak of your ankle because of the ridiculously high heels. That bob-cut hotel employee is surprised to see you at this hour, but she lets you in with a confused look on her face. 

You get on the elevator, end at the floor Karina’s apartment is on, trip and stumble in the hallway, and get to her door with a few fast knocks. “I know you’re in there, please!” 

Right on cue, Karina opens it from the other side. Your heart palpitates at the sight of her, her brown locks flowing, in her night gown and slightly on edge. She lets you in before your emotions could, watching you storm inside. “What happened? I could’ve picked you up-” 

“Ugh, I don’t know,” you huff, tossing your jacket off and struggling to get out of those annoying heels. Karina ghosts her hands but you refuse with a tensed noise, disheartened. 

“What did you do?” She says in assessment. “You smell like alcohol.” 

“I was with Wony. We went out.” 

“Did something happen?” 

“I got plastered.” You tell her, and Karina’s eyes blink sorrowfully. It presses you that she has a worry to you, wincing at the groan rumbling in your chest. Why should she care? If at all? 

“I have clothes for you. Do you need anything?” 

You don’t say anything but stare at her. Karina breathes deeply, annoyed. “It’s hard to read you like this, honey. I’ll be honest.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Hm?” Karina sees you fed up, fists balled. “Enough with- the names. I don’t want your money or your gifts. I- I don’t want the fucking money anymore. You don’t even care. I’m sick, sick and tired of all of it.” 

“Okay, hang on,” she says back. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I do care.” Her face shifts to something hurt. “Can you explain to me what the fuck happened earlier?” 

“Stop fucking asking me!” You scream. “I’m fed up with this bullshit between us.” 

“What are you even talking about? What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong-” you spit, grinding teeth. “-is I’m done being your little play thing- your sugar baby, okay?!”

“The fuck?”

“You heard me. I don’t want you to be my sugar mommy. Why? Are you hurt when I say it? Because I feel like shit when I do.” Your breathing becomes irregular, anxious, and you keep going: “And I’m done. I’m done. I’m done. I’m fucking done.” 

Karina’s face folds into disgust. “Done? What do you even mean you’re done?” 

“I’m done with everything,” you say with your hands up. “I- I’m fed up with just- being okay with you, coming over to my house, fuck, and then give me money after like that’s totally fine. Honestly, I thought it was okay. That it didn’t hurt to not think about it, but then I started to really think and- hoped something would shift. That didn’t happen tonight and that really makes me shitty.” 

“Sweetie,” Karina coos, fingers on hips. You cringe again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Of course you don’t,” you grit, lip quivering to a smirk. “Get this: I met someone earlier tonight. Someone who made me feel deserved and full.” Karina’s face crosses her arms, brow arched to say she’s not buying what you’re selling. How her expression goes cold, moments before a serial killer goes for the killing blow. 

“What did you do?” She asks you, calmly. 

“I let her touch me-” then you choke, because the guilt finally bursts past the truth: “Kiss me in the alley outside the clubhouse but I-” your words start to tumble out with jittering hands. “I just couldn’t. She wanted to take me home and I pushed her away. Only because I thought of you, Karina. I think of you- and these feelings, my heart and even-” 

“You mean to tell me you screwed me with another girl!?” Karina cries. “What good does that mean for me if it also fucking hurts!?” 

“I didn’t know any better! We were never serious! I’m fed up with you treating me like this for your own benefit!” 

“My god- I told you multiple fucking times! About how I felt about all of that. I wanted what was best- that’s why you’re with me and not freaking Giselle!” 

That hits you right on the nail. You fucking idiot. 

Your mouth forms an ‘o’, shredded from anger and heartbreak. Most of the stupidity is clouded from your lack of judgement. “I, I-” 

It dawns, hardly. She gave her point straightaway that time, when she sat at the bar. The money wasn’t even supposed to be a proxy - a clarification in a simple misunderstanding. She’d never treated you in what you hated so- No. Never. Karina cradles you in her eyes delicately. 

Yes, she’s blinded by rage, but holds your face dearly. There’s nothing more you’d rather do and drop down to her feet and recite a penance for your sins. “I didn’t mean it, Karina. I- I just wanted to be happy and not feel like shit all the time-” 

She swoops you in, muffling your wailing sobs. It’s only for a few minutes of calming down then Karina decides to lull over your mistakes, figure out where you finally stand in her mind. What would happen now that she’s finally seen you reduced to nothing. Nothing. 

To which she says: “You’re really something.” And laughs. You’ve never sobered up so quickly. Despite being still hurt. 

“What’s that supposed to-” and she shuts you up. 

With a smoothened brush of her thumb on your cheek and a kiss. 

–

It escalates slightly a few minutes later, your back against the wall and Karina’s sweltering mouth attacking you - on all fronts. 

“Don’t-” you stutter between pecks, tugging at her nightgown. A sharp inhale from the nibbles. “You fucking, little-” 

“Not so little,” Karina grins, pinning your wrists. “What do you want, baby?” 

“To touch me,” you gasp. 

Karina’s hands tend to the zipper behind, and her clothes pool at the floor. Each touch her fingertips make is electric, siphoning every exhale in the slightest graze. 

“Is this good?” she asks, breath hot over the layer above your heart. Your foot slides up the wall, bending. Arching at her low moans into your skin. “I can tell you want more.” 

“Nothing more, just you.” 

Karina’s lips lick another inch of your neck, sighing lowly. “Tell me again.” 

“I just want you.” 

She grabs you quickly and shoves you on the bed, with no chance to fight back. Gripping her hips as she presses your waist down. Her heat spreads over to you, unbridled and blossoming. Karina’s hand glides up your thigh when she breaks the kiss, sighing a silken promise left unspoken. “You drive me crazy.” 

“That’s just my charm,” you stare while she ganders down: a trail of kisses from your sternum, then ur middle, until the tip of her tongue flicks your belly button - pushes your legs apart. “Karina, Karina-” 

Karina quivers her mouth, hesitating. “Lower?” Seeing your eyes squinched shut, tensing. 

“Fuck- just do it already-” 

“Mhm-” 

“Don’t fucking stop,” you order, and Karina doesn’t. 

You breathe in, relieved. Laughing at the newfound sensation of her lips tending to your cunt - turning into a small strain, then groaning. You claw Karina’s scalp, guide her to where you need it most. The only thing you knew how to do, besides berating yourself: was holding her head and the sheets; let your body tremble through the quick high of your release, bucking at her touch, until you’ve felt whole and less of nothing. 

Karina, showing she never made her point wrong, coaxes you through. Taking you gleefully in her mouth for as long as you could hold it. Once she’s had her fill, she climbs up, collapses on you, bask in the afterglow and fading tension built within you two. 

Her fingertips trace your chin, and she still has that same look from that night in the bar: stoic eyes but filled with sympathetic curiosity. 

“I was scared of you,” she hushes, sleepily. “Of something terrible happening.” 

You bump her nose, tap the little beauty mark just beneath her mouth. “Are you still afraid?” Karina chuckles and nuzzles her face to your stomach. 

“Not anymore.” 

–

You’re the first to wake up in the morning. Quick to realize Karina wasn’t next to you, jolting a sense of panic. On cue, she walks out the bathroom and sinks to her knees, levels with you at the edge of the bed. She grasps your knee - as a sign of anxiousness, because she can’t afford to relax, not even for a second. 

“How’s your head?” She asks first, gently tapping your thigh. Watch you try to keep yourself calm the best you can, though that only lasts for less than a minute. 

“Ka- I’m just- fuck, about what I said- what I did. All of it was just me being stressed and I didn’t mean to fuck up our relationship. I was freaking out since Yunjin- and not only her-” Your words jumble together, to a point when Karina shushes and reminds you to breathe. It’s ok. One thing at a time. I need you to relax and take it slowly, please. 

“Me being pissed at you is one thing,” she says, “Trying to figure out your episode is another. And I think there’s one common point between this.” 

“I’m such an idiot.” Way to apologize without saying it, girl. 

Karina knows you don’t mean it. “It’s because of what we talked about that night.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Even when I held an olive branch for your situation, which explains the money.” 

“Now that I think about it, yeah. That also explains why I got with you after-” 

“Because I was interested.” 

“After the Astoria, when we had dinner, you-” 

“You don’t just throw out five grand to a girl without having a legitimate reason,” you laugh, because it’s still genuinely insane. “Did it ever occur to you how ridiculous of an investment that is?” 

“Your situation,” says Karina. “Like I said, I was in your shoes before.” 

“That’s a bit deranged, too. No?” 

“I don’t think so.” Her hand stops at the crease of your knee. Shifting her thumb and index to rest below your jaw. “If it were for anyone else, then yes.” 

“Wow.” You ball your fists, nervously. “Seriously, what the fuck-” 

“About last night, in the alleyway.” Karina’s face goes cross, “When you-” 

“I swear to you, she didn’t do anything more than what she did,” you plead. “Yes, it was in the moment, and with the alcohol. Then I fucked up and stopped before things got worse.” 

“You would’ve been in a lot more shit if you escalated it,” she deadpans, face flat. “Someone could’ve died that night.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you say while grabbing both hands. “Please, on my life.” 

“It’s okay. You made it up to me last night, anyway.” 

Now realizing how sore you were, that’s one part in your brain you’d hope to remember. “But that’s not the point, either-” 

“If Kim Minjeong-” 

“Karina, how?” 

“She called you. I answered and told her to never come near you again. Worse comes to worse, there would’ve been a crime scene already.” 

“Wow, you didn’t have to go that far.” 

“You’re one to talk.”

Oof. Karina. 

That sets a nerve off, and right when you’re about to yell your mouth off, Karina clings onto you. Arms moving up your back, holding you there. “I- I realize now after a few days. How much you really mean to me. I love you.”

You sigh her name, so much it comes out in a ‘damsel in distress’ tone. “I’ll say it again: I love you. For a while. I believe it to be true.” 

“Karina-” 

“I even dabbled the idea of you moving in with me to my roommate Ryujin!” 

She stops her train of thought when you stare up at her, look down at her chest, prompting her to press her lips to your crown. Let her hold your face with such earnestness and she catches the mumbling wisps- 

“You what?” 

“I said,” you inhale, preparing: “I love you.” 

Karina rolls her eyes, “Oh, I know that. Why don’t you punch me again as you say it.” 

As much as the offer is tempting, you remain still. Melt into her embrace. Let the rest of the world fade into obscurity- until you hear: “I’ll still be able to take your hand in marriage?” 

You say nothing. “What?” Karina continues. “We both said we loved each other, did we not?” 

“Skipped the whole ‘getting down on one knee and the ring’ part.” 

“It’s verbally put in existence by me.” 

“We both have different interpretations, Karina.” You sigh. “We haven’t learned at all. Plus, marriage isn’t in my plans as of now.”

“So when?” 

“We’ll know when we get there.” 

“Guess we’ll do this,” Karina lifts you up on her arms, making you smile widely as she hoists you against the wall. Grinning like an idiot. Kisses you like an offering from the heavens. “You’re just gonna have to deal with me until then.” 

-

a/n: been a min... thank you for the support as always. to readers/followers old and new, i appreciate you <3

more to come ;')

[gangplanksorenji]

day 2: limits

Pairing: BABYMONSTER’s Ahyeon, Asa x Male Reader

Word Count: 15,003

--------------------------------------

--------------------------------------

Yes, you fulfilled your promise to her.

You granted what Ahyeon wished in the first place, which was cumming inside her cunt.

“God, thank you, daddy, fuck, that was—” You shut her up with a long, passionate kiss on her lips, humming from your actions as you stay lodged inside her snugness, and it was euphoric as she thought it would be.

“You did amazing, princess.” Your words emanate that familiar pink blush on her cheeks, and that alone made you feel butterflies and genuine love rather than just entirely being horny.

It’s the best of both worlds, and the day is just getting started.

It was barely the end of noon time and you felt like you were here for a whole day—maybe hours of sex, making out and talking with Ahyeon equates into defining the flow of time. Even with the snugness of her velvety walls hugging you tight, you don’t consider pulling out yet and continue kissing her, peppering her collarbones and her neck where she’s more sensitive, earning moans of approval out of her as she urges for more. Eventually, you pull yourself out of her filled cunt, letting the sight of the achievement you’ve done be etched in your brain for eons to come. You marvel with the mess she has been on the bed, her sinful, toned body laid down and used and your cum leaking out is just perfection, not to mention her tight top that was ruined with how rough the both of you eventually became.

“Did I do too much, princess? You good?” Your questions begs an answer out of her lips, seeking thoughtfulness in the midst of evident roughness that unfolded just minutes ago.

“No, I’m fine, daddy—wanted it like that. Wanted you to give me a birthday creampie, even if it’s pretty late.” Ahyeon laughs through her apparent exasperation, clinging onto your arms to pull you into another passionate kiss which you are eager to reciprocate. You respond pretty hungrily, tongues dancing whenever they get the chance as you eventually pull out again, wanting to start the day onto something productive.

“Wanna help you clean up and get us some food, princess? What’d you think?” She has never nodded so fast before, eager to do such aftercare after you’ve wrecked her sinful hole.

“Gotta help me in the shower, daddy…”

“I will, princess. Don’t worry.”

---

You always love doing this, even with Asa or them together—nothing beats taking a shower with them, even though what might happen will equate to something filthy or wholesome.

“Did you text Asa, daddy? Is she going to come?”

“Not yet, princess.” You soap her back, and her toned, slim waist as you stare at her doe eyes. “Can’t do that when you’ve rode me and wanted to have sex with me right after you’ve blown me.”

Ahyeon pouts and chuckles right after, that beaming smile emanating her positivity despite the tease underlying beneath it. “Aw, but you loved it, right, daddy?”

You kiss Ahyeon’s forehead, tucking her hair behind her ear as you stare at her eyes continuously with sincerity as your intention, and no one can break that away from you. “Always, princess—always loved doing that to you. Glad your legs are still working.”

She snuggles her head onto your chest as you can feel her vibrations from her giggles all throughout, then staring up at you with her own genuine intent, mutually like yours. “Would always love to workout and be sturdy for you, daddy.”

She soaps your back with a loofa as you do the same on hers, but with your hands. The running, warm water slightly elevates the experience and lures in a mood where you think she’ll be feeling too. It was inevitable to begin with, not when she’s intentionally finding her hands onto your half-erect shaft and her gestures hinting to rile you up. 

The mutual insatiability and sincerity is healthy, and you love it.

“Still can’t get enough? Please, princess—I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You groan right after, reading you like a book as she insists on the first move and you’re not complaining. She strokes you into hardness, her dexterous fingers doing their best as you groan between every stroke, Ahyeon smiling in satisfaction right from the way you reply to her actions.

“Missed you so much, daddy—guess multiple weeks of not meeting you is just hard for me.”

Your hand finds her soaped waist, cupping it as you pull her towards you a little closer, letting your cock nestle between the divot of her thighs, near her dripping pussylips. “It was tough for me too, princess—been so busy and stuff.”

You understand how down bad you’ve made her and the feelings are mutual. Even though you feel like you can't do this anymore, Ahyeon is the pill that keeps you going and that alone fuels you to do more. “Right now, I am here, princess, and I won’t leave you alone.” You pull her in a tight embrace, feeling her hot body snuggle up yours only lures you to deepen the hug, kissing her shoulder as you do so. “I have the whole week to spend with you. No stress or anything—just you and me.”

Ahyeon curls up that genuine smile of love to you, and that has you swooning even with the suggestive actions she’s doing to you. “It would be fun if Asa’s gonna be here, daddy.”

“Which I would love to spend this whole week too—not let’s clean up for real and I’ll call her, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.” Ahyeon nods as she continues to clean herself in front of you, pushing away from her pussy grinding on your hard shaft, as you clean yourself swiftly too.

You’ll be thoroughly looking forward to how this day will go down, much more about how this week unfolds.

---

You let Ahyeon prepare herself with what she does best, maybe surprise yourself with an outfit that turns you on, another makeup combination that riles you up or anything. Meanwhile, you wouldn’t waste your time just watching some reels and doomscrolling, or looking outside the balcony but calling in Asa on the phone.

“You still doing something?” You look back and look at the door where Ahyeon is inside, then avert your attention towards the phone call. “Ahyeon wants you to join her.”

“Not really, baby. Where are the both of you at, though?” Asa’s cheerful tone is evident even behind the phone, looking forward to what you may say right after.

“At my place. Ahyeon was you here, to join us on some—you know, like the usual whenever we’re together.”

“Hah...” Asa chuckles through the phone, knowing what you’re talking about as it piques her interest immediately. “I’d love that always—besides, I am really curious on how Ahyeon has been doing too as soon as she saw you. I pretty much miss her…”

You smile through the phone, finding their friendship cute and can’t wait to tell everything that has happened to the both of you towards Asa. “Oh, you don’t need to tell that, Asa. We did a lot for her birthday and even now—wait, are you outside? Asa…”

You can hear Asa’s audible gasp as she laughs right after. “It was just the TV—go on, continue, please.”

“I mean like, yeah… Tons of blowjobs, princess rode me twice and I came on her face once and in her cunt, finally.”

“Mhm…” Asa is still hooked for what you may say further, teasing you with her unimpressed tone. “What more did you do to her? Finally came inside her, huh?”

“Pretty much, that’s how I’ll summarize everything, haha. Yeah, I mean, she always wants to swallow my cum most of the time or paint it all over her body but since it’s her birthday, it would be great to give her that privilege.”

“God, I can imagine how hot Ahyeon is whenever you’re fucking her good and cumming inside her—she really earned it, I guess. Isn’t it right, babe?”

“Yeah, she did. Even a better girl at behaving than you are, Asa.” Your remarks earns that hiss on the phone from Asa, a little angry from your banter as the spice in her voice is evident.

“Yah! I’ve always been a good girl for you! I will always comply with you and everything!”

“Maybe forty percent of the time. Fifty tops—you know what, you should hurry if you’re going to come. I’ll treat you both to somewhere nice and we’ll do our time together with Ahyeon, alright?”

“Okay, okay…” You can hear the silverware clashing as she prepares herself, ready to come to your place as soon as possible. “See you, babe—love you.”

“Love you too.” And there she hangs up, and the exhilaration within you starts to creep up again, knowing Asa’s going to join the both of you in this monstrosity. Suddenly, when you’re sightseeing in the balcony and metropolis down below, Ahyeon’s voice calls you in the distance as you turn around and see such a hot girl from earlier who is this simple yet endearingly pretty.

“Daddy, do you like it?”

It’s simple, the typical school uniform-esque outfit where she looks splendid of course, undeniably charismatic where it dives down to being hot. There’s just something in the way she delivers what she wears that exudes confidence and compliments her figure well, and that element alone strikes something in you and further makes you fall down your knees for her (mostly in this part, she’s head over heels for you but the feelings are mutual).

“Of course, princess—everything you wear always looks good on you. Are we going to the university or something?” You tease Ahyeon for the umpteenth time, knowing that the semestral break is far from over and knowing that she specifically knows what turns you on.

Yes, the tie invites something special in you, most likely the culprit for a great choking side dish on your main course. Even the short skirt she wears right now alone, perfectly accentuating how well her legs look and her delicious thighs peeking out for you to drool on.

She is basically the epitome of perfection, but then you think that Asa can challenge that.

You anticipate what she will wear but right now, you should spend the next hours somewhere else that is outside of your place. 

“So, we’re going out? We’re not just gonna stay here with Asa, daddy?”

“Well, I figured out that I should treat my princesses to some great food and some quality time, no?” You come closer to Ahyeon, grasping her soft hand as you stare at her eyes. “Besides, this week would be a great time to be free from the stress we’ll eventually meet later.”

“Fair point, daddy—that’s so thoughtful and so sweet of you! Thank you so much…” Ahyeon hugs you tightly, head resting against your chest as she looks up at you, feeling shy from her sudden actions which you reassure her with a chuckle.

“Don’t be shy, Ahyeonie—this is only fair, you know? Now, let’s get ourselves ready—wait, I should be the one doing that…” The sudden realization hits you, as Ahyeon faintly giggles from that slight mishap of yours.

“Go ahead, daddy—I’ll be waiting.”

This whole day won’t just dissolve into just some filthy sex even with Asa coming over—after all, you have the whole week with the two to spend with and to cherish each and every moment, no matter how wholesome or filthy it can be.

---

You’re brushing your teeth now as Ahyeon calls you, stopping herself from doomscrolling on her phone and asking the question: “Aren’t we gonna wait for Asa, daddy?”

You spit towards the sink, gargling some water as you reply to her with a slight of murmur. “We are, princess—she texted me that she’s going to be here in a minute or two.”

Ahyeon gasps, a little excited from your reply. “Oh? Finally she’s going to be here!”

She fixes herself, comb her hair a little while she does miniature retouches on her makeup as you finish brushing your teeth, gargling some warm water to ease up your feeling. Suddenly as you’re gargling, the doorbell rings loudly, so you spit the water into the sink quickly as you rush towards the door, opening to see the girl you’ve been waiting for (also Ahyeon).

“Babe! Oh, I missed you!” Asa pulls you towards her frame, her lithe figure is pretty surprising in terms of her strength as she hugs you tightly, feeling her warmth finally after weeks and weeks of being away.

“Missed you too, Asa—was this the perfume I gifted you on Christmas?”

“Yeah, it is, babe. Really love the sweet scent of it…” Asa eventually pulls out of your embrace as a familiar girl appears in the distance of Asa’s eyes as it lits up from that sight.

“Ahyeon-ah! You’re here!” The gleaming smile of Asa permeates around the vicinity as she’s happy to see the younger girl and one of her closest friends. “Guess the both of you are waiting for me, hm?”

“Yes, we are, babe—but first, do you wanna drink some water or what? Seems like going towards here was a bit tiring, no?”

Asa scoffs as she reassures you, alternating her attention towards the both of you. “Oh, I don’t need it though but thanks. My friend fetched me all the way here, glad she had some time herself.”

“Well, I’m glad my other princess isn’t too tired…” The name certainly makes Asa blush, an evident rosy hue all across her cheeks. Ahyeon slightly chuckles with your remark though, pretty much agreeing on the pet name you called Asa accurately.

“Come on in, babe—I’ll get other stuff ready and then we’ll get in my car, alright?” Asa nods right after, as she comes in and frantically seizes her hands to hold Ahyeon’s, feeling that sense of comfort.

“You know, I really think the both of you talked your outfits through—you look great though, Asa.”

“Oh thanks, babe.” Asa plants her hand in front of her mouth, a little modest when chuckling and being flustered by your compliments as she averts her attention towards Ahyeon. “Do you think this looks great, Ahyeon-ah?”

“Oh, it does look good on you! Always love the way you style yourself, Asa.” Ahyeon’s a bit shy with her compliments towards the older girl, as you find yourself agreeing because it’s just factual at this point—you always love the way Asa styles herself, a true fashion icon in your eyes. While you swoon over the sight of Asa’s perfect figure and such a great yet simple outfit, you finalize yourself with a few touches and cleaning near the sink, letting the girls wait for you.

“I guess having authority in the university is challenging, no? Still feeling stressed lately, Asa?”

“I mean yeah, a little—” Asa’s gripping the headboard of the couch a little tight, as she vents out some little frustration at her end. “—and they also want me to go higher and be their secretary at the student council? I’m sorry but I can’t really live with that as if the schoolworks weren’t enough to fuck me up—glad this break was necessary.”

“Well, I know someone that can fuck you up…” Ahyeon teases Asa, as the older girl paints that shocked face and Ahyeon in return, just laughs in response.

“Oh my goodness—babe, she’s been too bold ever since the both of you are alone for just a day? Wow, look at you, Ahyeonie~”

You clean and dry your face and arms with a towel, now pretty much ready to go as you further strengthen Asa’s claims. “You don’t need to tell me that, babe—she’s been pretty confident and brave ever since she fulfilled her birthday wish.”

Asa and you chuckles as Ahyeon blushes harder from the words thrown at her. It wasn’t seen as something degrading, but uplifting as Ahyeon is finally becoming bold with you, and even Asa. Not going to lie, seeing this side of Ahyeon more frequently than before is refreshing, and it’s the best in both worlds.

“Bet it felt good, right, Ahyeon-ah?”

“It does…” Ahyeon doesn’t deny it and wears it proudly as it's evident from her face, Asa smirking from how Ahyeon portrays how great it felt, even in the slightest.

“Ok, I’m done, ladies. You girls can just wait in the car. I'll just check on something here, alright?” Their conversations got hindered by you as they rushed towards the car, seeing them off to the distance and their slight dorkiness in their bodies which made you chuckle a little.

You sigh and curl up a smile, excited on how this week may unfold. “Love these girls…”

You really do, and you hope they stay being this lively, easygoing, happy and of course, hot.

That’s pretty explanatory, and you need to rush yourself too because the time is ticking, and it’s ticking fast.

---

They’re loud, funny and pretty suggestive—you’re holding the steering wheel for dear life just to get your attention averted towards the road, refraining from distracting yourself from Asa and Ahyeon’s antics, let alone their subtle actions that attract invitation.

“Babe, I swear—the freshmen in the university are more chill than what I ever thought. Maybe the stress of being in authority burns me out but at least I’m making friends, right?” Asa asks you about her slight doubts, consulting you as her eyes are eager, anticipating your answer.

In all honesty, you’re not the best when it comes to giving advice generally but you came to grow as a better person yourself ever since you’ve been tangled up in the polyamorous relationship between Asa and Ahyeon. Your mind state becomes healthier and you come to realize that wisdom comes with experience, being grateful for the little things and becoming socially exposed too with the help of the two really made you who you are today.

“Yeah, baby—as long as the friends you’re making are on the good side, then it’s great!” You multitask between looking at the tracker and swerving over slightly slower cars on the highway, Asa’s voice averting your attention towards her. “Besides, I think you guys will get along well because of how brainrotten these people can be.”

“We’re not brainrotted though, daddy—we just happen to be influenced by what we see on the Internet.” Ahyeon makes a great point, pouting as she chuckles from your remarks. 

“Don’t act like you’re not in the loop of these things, babe. Besides, they seem like great people to hang out with.” 

“I mean, I’m eventually gonna see these things, babe. Also, probably they are pretty fun to hang with—can’t really think of anything else other than the two of you.” Your smoothness makes them blush and you can just sense it, Asa eliciting an audible ‘wow’ from your flirtatious transition.

You can feel Asa’s habits coming to play yet again, with her hand on your thighs as she talks about how you’re getting smoother with the way you flirt. “I see you, babe—really pulling that, hm?”

“Can’t help it when I’m surrounded by two gorgeous girls.” It is in its utmost truth, and even if it’s most described as another flirtatious attempt, it will be working and truly factual. 

“Are we still far away from there, daddy?” Ahyeon leans over to ask you, her eyes focused on you as her patience is running thin, and so is Asa’s, agreeing to Ahyeon’s question.

“Ladies, you can literally see it on the tracker here.” You don’t know if this is intentional just to pluck something in you but you mostly don’t really care, yet for sure, they’re just asking that for validation and to tease you.

“Sometimes, the GPS is pretty inaccurate, babe, y’know?” Asa’s hands find your shoulder, patting on it, then looking at you in an oddly nonchalant manner. “Gotta need to know it from you.”

You roll your eyes knowing the fact that you’re going to comply with their antics yet again. There’s no reason to reject it as it will just further put gasoline to the fire—you should get used to just going to the flow with your two lovely brats.

“We’re near there, like ten minutes tops—just relax yourselves, alright? The both of you will love this.” And they do, not without smiles painting their faces as you sigh deeply, mouthing yourself the words. “I just can't with these girls…”

Definitely you can’t, but you can’t resist them for their grip on you (figuratively and literally) is unparalleled, and that’s the beauty of this relationship.

----

Everything went as planned in your head, letting them eat some of their favorite foods, treating them to some bubble milk tea and even letting them earn some stuffed toys in the arcade. This is seriously one of the monumental moments in your life since it’s like once in a blue moon to hang out with the three of you together, and this moment of wholesomeness and romance is at an all-time high. 

Yet, the lingering feeling of temptation seeps in because you can’t think straight when both of them are in such great outfits that compliments their figure and those short skirts—it genuinely makes your head dent in the right places, an Achilles’ heel to be exact.

They know what they’re doing and the underlying poison is already taking place.

Here’s maybe how the story goes: let’s just skip to the part where the filthiness starts because it was inevitable in the first place.

The older girl is clever, as her senses are overwhelmed and has this inkling of that familiar feeling within you—she senses how much you wanted her so much you couldn’t contain it anymore once the three of you are alone together yet again.

How could you not feel something so familiar when Asa’s hands are stroking your rock-hard cock, teasing the tip as you distract yourself from focusing on the road ahead.

“I swear to god, babe—I’m gonna crash this car if you keep doing that.” Asa doesn’t seem to budge, not even the slightest. Her tongue envelops the sensitive muscle, flickering against it as the voice of Ahyeon reverberates around your ear, in awe and enabling Asa even more—it doesn’t help you in the slightest but you’re now trapped here, unable to do anything but avert your attention towards driving safely.

“If w-we get pulled over, it’s your damn fault, Asa.”

“At least they get to see how to give head properly.” She continues slurping all over your length, the dark blur down below a mere distraction as you double your efforts on driving safely. 

You just hope to god you’re near at your place but it isn’t, and there’s no sugarcoating that. Not to mention, you need to follow the tracker on the screen before the highway you’re familiar with, multitasking yourself and tanking one hell of a distraction that can put you in the gutter.

This is a blessing and curse and nothing around is helping you but yourself.

“No wonder why Ahyeon got addicted to sucking you off, babe—this cock is just delicious in every way.” Asa’s fingers come into play, the utmost stimulation of a new recruit in the battle inside your brain and your sanity. She continued her slow bobs, her immediate slurps and gags an audible sound to test you. You’d grow to adapt in these types of situations, her test a mere challenge at this point as your subtly shaking hands hand on the steering wheel tighter, your senses following the tracker with the best of your precision.

“Fucking hell, baby—slow down, please. I’m gonna crash this fucking car, I’m serious.” Thankfully, your pleas are answered, her pace slowing down a ton as she keeps her tongue busy around your sensitive length, and it doesn’t aid you to the very least.

“Swerving a little, hm, daddy? Asa must’ve been making you feel so good yet so miserable, right?” Fucking right, it’s downright in the abyss of despair and pleasure, wishing you can just pull over and let yourself feel the softness of Asa’s lips and hoe she makes you feel good.

You want to do that—no, you need to do that because you can’t bear driving for almost thirty minutes with Asa giving you a blowjob on the sunset.

You wouldn't tell her that though because telling her that would be digging your grave. Fighting the haywire in you, you gathered the mental capacity to find a spot where you can pull over and let the filthiness commence yet somehow, Asa senses this and pinches your thigh. 

“No, baby—pull over and that just proves how much you can’t handle me. You wanna make a show for our princess here, right?” You really do but now, she’s playing with your ego in the name of oral sex, and that enables something in you to prove yourself that you’ll always have the authority no matter what.

Fuck it, you will take her like a champ until the finish line.

You try and maintain your speed to an eighty to ninety, but it’s becoming challenging with further techniques up Asa’s sleeve, inconsistencies evident with the way your body reacts to her actions. You moan slightly, the pleasure running over you a chase towards the edge, feet getting messed up a little once she works her tongue onto your leaking slit repeatedly.

You might just want to be a pussy and do what’s right, because there’s no greater outcome here when the car insurance rings your phone constantly because of what may happen.

Asa averts her attention towards the tracker, then looks on your face, knowing something is up on you. “Changing routes, are we, hm, babe?”

For the past fourteen months, Asa grew enough to read you like a book, ultimately knowing when you’re at your lowest or when you’re desperate for something. At your end, it’s getting there because sometimes, she can be unpredictable and a great example is what unfolds right at this moment: Asa sloppily blowing you in the car while you’re driving at your utmost best while Ahyeon records everything.

The scene is depraved and you wish you could just close your eyes and savor every second but you can’t do that. Not when you’re on a highway, little-to-no traffic and desperate to find somewhere to stop and let her do her expertise.

“Pulling over to feel my mouth better, baby? Looks like I got you real fucking good.” It’s salacious and it’s perfect, downright abysmal as she plays with your cock to torture you, swerving a little in response as she keeps herself occupied

“Yeah—fucking brat can’t contain herself and wants to suck me off w-while—shit, I’m in a middle of the road driving. How can I even deny that?” You hiss at her, but those words fall deaf to her ears as she gives you head consistently in terms of quality and pleasure.

“I guess daddy will cum before he pulls over somewhere.” Ahyeon’s laughter comes right after, her sinister side enabling you and her teases primarily to edge you closer. How can you not? Not when Ahyeon’s honey voice tingles you as she says profanities and Asa’s really bad business on your shaft—it’s just absurd at this point, perfectly filthy.

Finally, some light sheds in the distance (figuratively), pretty much an indication on where you can stop and let Asa do her thing to the fullest, not worrying about crashing such a treasured car of yours.

“No, keep both hands on the steering wheel, babe—I will stop if you do that again.” Asa’s way of words just riles you up even more, letting yourself be focused and your hands gripping the wheel with a white knuckle.

A part of you dearly wants to do that and stop Asa and her blowjob right now, so you can still store everything and to come home as soon as possible without the concern of risks. But then, you don’t want to hinder her advances, not when she enabled you so much that you need to erupt in her mouth and the gratification you’re currently experiencing urges you to take everything and indulge in the pleasure.

An abrupt turn and just a few meters ahead, you accelerate faster than usual, sending Asa to do her wonders on you with more effort and Ahyeon’s remarks now including your dive into submission.

“Daddy’s really fucked up right now, oh my god.” Ahyeon looks over, still holding her phone and recording every obscene second and calling the older girl’s attention. “Asa, if you continue that, he may cum before even stopping.”

“That’s the point, Ahyeon-ah.” Asa eventually slows down her strokes on your cock, as that raises an eyebrow on you but is still focused on what you should do. “But then, a load on my mouth right here would be a waste.”

“What are you—” Asa is there to cut you off, groaning as she squeezes your cock for good measure, and averts her attention towards you, eyes focused and lips curling up a smirk. You’ve technically came a little, a drizzle evident onto your slit as you catch your breath due to the adrenaline she gave you.

“Sorry, babe—don’t get me wrong, I’d love to taste your load but not here.” Asa then leans over, whispering in your ear as you anticipate what words may come out of her mouth. “Would love it either inside or on us two when we get home.”

Diabolical. Gutted but you’re patient but you despise that.

“I fucking hate you, Asa—god, now what? Wasted time on finding a different route…”

Asa looks at you, pouting cutely as if nothing obscene happened like a few seconds ago. “Get us home, pretty please, babe?”

You roll your eyes as Asa helps you on dressing your mess of a bottom half, as Asa reassures, “Don’t worry, it will be fun when we get home.”

“It will be, daddy—like so much more fun.” Ahyeon seconds the motion, ultimately convincing you that what unfolds later will be up to your liking.

Maybe it was for the best, because right now, you’re fucked up beyond comparison.

Oh, how can these girls spiral you into an utter mess…

---

The familiar road now gives you a sigh of relief, as the girls keep their conversations hooked as you eavesdrop. When the final turn towards your place happens, they’re thrilled to be finally home and you’re just glad you didn’t crash the car onto somewhere and something—you’re probably not doing that again with a psychotically horny Asa next time, but then, you loved the thrill. 

Gone are the honorifics and the foreplay, because as soon as the three of you stepped in your place and Ahyeon locked the door shut, the magic happened.

“Have your way with her, daddy—would do something for the meantime…”

“Better come back, princess.” You remind her and Ahyeon nods, skedaddling out and minding her own business—you’d be interested in what she may introduce the both of you as she comes back, but for now, your attention is focused only for Asa.

“Missed me, babe?” You keep yourself attended, kissing her neck as she moans in response. “Oh you really fucking do—god, keep doing that, babe.”

You don’t need to talk when every movement elicits the very best of moans out of her mouth. You keep marking her, even licking as being depraved from a girl you yearn for reduces you into this animalistic stance, and you're hungry for her.

“Please, kiss me, baby—” So did you, cutting her out and letting your lips crash onto hers immediately. Hearing those words of need must equate onto something that lies within compliance, fulfilling what she needs as you deepen the kiss, tongues tangled.

Oh, let’s state the fact right now: you have no complaints nor qualms whenever making out with Ahyeon, but Asa is just in a different game. 

Asa finds your tongue with her lips, sucking on it as she bobs her head up and down right after, letting the sensation of her lips be savored by you. Your lips aren't idle though, kissing her all throughout this mess as you match her advances. Her tongue eventually finds yours, alternating within the bobs on your tongue and dancing the muscles in between as you moan all throughout, and her hums vocal against your mouth.

It was thirty seconds of such sight of need, showcasing how much the deprivation caused her to do and you love it. You never pulled out of the kiss, eagerly reciprocating whatever she does as you held her waist gently, then pinning her against the wall. You pull out eventually, depleted of oxygen and expressing how much you really did miss her. “God, I really fucking missed you, baby.”

Asa smiles as she looks up at you with that mischievous smirk, seductively turning you on as both your hands rest against her tiny waist. “Then why aren’t we fucking yet?”

“Because I need to taste you first.” It wasn’t long before you initiated another torrid kiss, yet this time, you bit on her lip a little rough but not enough to make a bruise, a little hiss coming from her mouth from the miniscule pain you’ve inflicted. It was all hot and sloppy, feeling each other’s drool and need on each passing second, now getting a little harsh with the way you act by pressing her midriff tighter as she does the same on the hem of your shirt. It was another thirty seconds of carnal kissing until you pull out of her lips’ embrace, ready to take what’s yours and to claim what you’ve been depraved off.

“Gonna eat your pussy.” You kneel down as Asa bites her lip, locking her eyes onto you as her hands stay idle on her hips. “Ahyeon would know how much of a slut you are whenever I eat you out.”

It is true, because whenever you take control and weaken her, she would eventually submit. “Then let her watch, after all, we’re going to be crazy until the sun rises.”

“Actual freak.” 

She is and so are you, and now, you’re diving into her cunt.

You pull down her panties and off to her ankles it goes, as your fingers swipe familiar strokes that makes her breath shudder and knees buckle. You always love teasing her like this because of how  sensitive she gets when you touch her like this. She bites her lip, eliciting the sultriest moans as you keep two digits in her tightness, feeling her wetness envelop your dexterous fingers.

“Hold your skirt for me please, babe.” She keeps it on her waist, hiked up as she shudders with the way you deal with her. Asa is in fucking need of your mouth on her dripping cunt, but then you’ll always have that one virtue in you, even in sex.

“Please—just f-fucking eat me already.”

“Patience, babe.” Your fingers keep that steady pace, moving consistently as you hear a thud on the wall, her head resting against it as she moans your name. “My mouth will devour this delicious cunt, okay?”

Your eyes find her vulnerable state, as Asa looks down and nodded, fully trusting you.

It’s just beautiful to see the girl earlier teasing you and challenging you in a near-accident inducing situation could be reduced to such a whimpering, needy mess—that image will always be in your head, especially when she’s ruined and yearning for you.

You tease her clit then plunge in and thrust your fingers, making sure she’s in that state where she’ll just crumble down but not enough. She keeps herself steady, and even with just your fingers, she’s almost reeling and giving in.

“It’s just your fingers, babe—oh my fucking god.” Asa is whimpering, wanton cries blessing your ears as she indulges with the pleasure. “It’s j-just your fucking fingers…”

“I’ll eat you out now, okay?”

Before diving in, you look onto the corner to see if Ahyeon’s there to watch yet there weren’t any signs of her presence just yet—you don’t mind it even when she’s secretly eavesdropping the filthiness that is currently taking place, you’d always love to provide a great show for your audience.

And so you did, tongue in her cunt and she convulses.

“Fuck, babe!” Asa screams, hissing as your tongue keeps her lower half in a challenge of sturdiness, possibly pliant as her knees shake. She’s already wet to the point that you definitely want to get up, turned her around and fuck her harshly, but then you’ll be a hypocrite. Discipline is within you still even such an insane sight, keeping yourself occupied with the way you eat her cunt and a man of your words.

“Please—eugh, p-please keep doing that.” She chokes on her own spit, moaning repeatedly as your tongue swipes onto her leaking slit, your other digit thrusting in her pussy. You test her limits even with just your mouth on her cunt and possibly, you can feel how much of a mess she’s making and how she’s nearing that epic high. 

You won’t even give Asa a respite, not even a second because she’s practically cumming on your fingers with how she’s forming rivulets of her nectar on it.

“Plea—I’m gonna cum, babe!” Asa’s gripping the hem of skirt with a vice grip, maybe even near tearing it as you keep her steady, hands grasping her moderately proportionate backside. You eat her with utmost will to make her climax, thrusting your tongue onto her walls as she lets out a carnal scream of pleasure.

Asa cums, and it’s beautiful.

She spurts onto your face as you keep fucking your tongue against her slit, repeatedly caressing her ass as you reassure her. Her climax possibly lasted for at least fifteen seconds, in which you took your time to devour her at utmost desire and it never had felt so good for the both of you.

“Messy.” You lick all over the vicinity of your lips, tasting her juices as you hum in delight, exchanging glances with her as she breathes heavily and recovering from her intense orgasm.

“Yes she is, daddy.” Out of nowhere, her familiar resonates around your ear and your attention towards the younger girl.

God, she managed to look more stunning and genuinely ruinable—a set of twintails, top tied on her back to expose that slutty, toned midriff of hers and little changes on her makeup.

This is literally heaven and hell, and the balance is always great.

“God, you ate me so good, babe.” Asa looks down at you, beads of sweat on her neck as she smiles with your filthy advances crumbling her down into submission despite standing still. “We would love to return the favor.”

“Badly, daddy.” Ahyeon finishes it, and so, the younger girl deftly goes towards you as you stand up and let Asa get herself back in her senses. Asa and yourself can’t take off both your eyes on Ahyeon when she’s looking like this sizzling hot and a snack—genuinely, Asa is on par with Ahyeon’s hotness or even exceeding hers yet there something with Ahyeon that has been putting your brain circuits in a haywire.

“You like my little improvement, daddy? Bet that dick of yours is so hard from eating Asa out.” Ahyeon knows and it’s true, because you’re leaking a little from your underwear after seeing Asa cream that hard onto your face. Of course, her former questions have the most obvious answer known to date: Yes, princess. You look stunning.

That earned a smile from her face as Asa wouldn’t fall behind and let your attention be solely focused on Ahyeon immediately, as she pulls out the weapon of mass destruction (let’s just visualize the fact of those tiny bombs in your brain whenever you see this bit of Asa).

She raised her brown top a little and unbuttoned the bottom-half of the white long sleeve underneath, averting your attention towards Asa as she seduces you with the way she strips herself even in the miniscule bit.

Both of them will be the death of you, that alone you swore to the heavens above.

“Relax, babe—we’re going to take care of you so good, right, princess?”

“Yes, Ahyeon-ah—we’ll make you cum so much, daddy~” That alone is the epitome of an invitation of filth and you’re lured in, head first (pun intended).

As bright as their smiles and their personalities are, so are their brains, clearly eager to undress you hastily. Ahyeon works on your belt as Asa works onto your zipper and your pants, tugging them down to allow them to be a step closer to their grand prize. They eventually see it, a familiar wet spot on your boxers as Asa’s finger teases the leaking tip, making you groan a little as the sight below is something you always love to see.

“You’re leaking already, babe? My cunt must’ve been too much for you…”

“Yeah, baby—it is.” Ahyeon now joins the fun, tugging onto the hem of your underwear as the older girl further teases you. “Now fucking blow me, you two, alright?”

“Patience, baby.” Of course, Asa made you swallow your own words against her awhile ago but you’re not complaining—pretty much that’s your dogma, even in these situations. You relish on the sight of them playing on your clothed crotch for a little while, your hands finding their dark-colored locks and caressing it. It wasn’t too long before they couldn't take it anymore and were eager to finish what Asa started an hour ago, alongside Ahyeon.

Asa tugs your boxers down, and they are met with their favorite monster yet again. There wasn't any cheeky foreplay to tell you to get ready or anything, because eventually you will brace yourself with two girls pleasuring you on their absolute power. They spit on your hardened shaft, letting their hand spread their drool all over your length as their tongues tease your slit, tasting your precum.

“Missed sucking your cock, babe.” Asa eventually takes over your sensitive tip impatiently, dancing her tongue all over the edge of the mushroom tip as Ahyeon cups your balls, feeling how full it must have been after all of the stimulation that happened. “You always leak so much—fucking love it.”

Asa dives in deeper, going almost halfway on your rod as Ahyeon averts her attention towards your globes, licking onto it as she squeezes on it gently which earns faint groans out of it. The sight down below is downright pornographic and the best it has ever been because it’s not like everyday two beautiful, hot girls get to blow you eagerly.

“Feels so full, daddy—can’t wait to drain them…” Ahyeon licks the base of your cock right after, fondling your balls as Asa further advances herself onto your length, bobbing her head up and down. Asa eventually finds your hand and directs it towards her dark locks, letting you caress it and tug even just to let you be comfortable.

“Would love to drain them, babe.” Asa bobs continuously, not before pulling out with saliva a mess on her mouth, her eyes in contact with yours. “But whose throat will receive it, do you think?”

“We’ll see.” That’s what you articulated, and you’re clearly anticipating how this unfolds further. In a relentless manner, Asa dances her tongue on your drool-sheathed tip, slurping on it as she teases every possible inch she can occupy, meanwhile Ahyeon just steadily strokes your base and keeps you in check. Asa isn’t really selfish even though she needs you as much as you need her, and let Ahyeon take the spotlight, now the  suckling onto your balls eagerly.

Now, the younger girl is taking your length halfway as Asa averts her attention towards your balls.

Ahyeon keeps her space moderate against your length, running her tongue against the familiar places she mapped earlier this morning, but not without little gags which she fights, determined to let you know that she can take a good cock like Asa. Here’s the problem and the harsh truth: Ahyeon is still nowhere near the lengths of how Asa can do it, but you’re eager to say that Ahyeon is a natural and learning fast.

Also, let’s not forget to mention those blowjob eyes in contact with yours whenever you look down, the best amongst the bunch and maybe that’s her advantage against Asa.

In all honesty, you shouldn’t really be comparing the two and just savor the work they’re doing all over you. You’re eventually in that trance, feeling their mouth and their hands pleasure you into no-return, amplifying the gratification you’re experiencing as both of your hands caress their hair and tug on it, a leverage to fight the pleasure.

“Fuck, it’s always so delicious, daddy—sucking your cock is so addicting, no wonder why Asa always gets to blow you every week when she gets the chance.” Her words surprised you and Asa, but Asa just hums on your balls as she playfully hits Ahyeon, the younger girl smiling throughout the mouthful of cock.

“You c-can’t blame me, Ahyeon—” She certainly won’t, because Ahyeon is devouring your cock like she can’t have it anymore, pushing more into her throat as her bobs becomes more consistently messy, drool seeping out of her mouth as Asa watches the younger girl act her needs. “—look at your fucking slobbering all over his cock like a needy slut.”

Ahyeon whimpers as Asa’s degrading words seem to click something in her, and all you can do is listen and watch it all unfold. Asa doesn’t just play with you, but also multitasks herself, finding Ahyeon’s clothed cunt already dripping and she teases her because of it.

“Already so wet just by sucking his cock—what a needy, cockhungry slut you are, Ahyeon.” Asa sets Ahyeon’s panties and lets her fingers pleasure the younger girl's snug cunt, letting Ahyeon moan over your sensitive head.

You can feel the vibrations all over your length as she moans with the pleasure inside her cunt, and Asa’s relentless with it, fingering Ahyeon and even going far as to threatening her if she doesn’t keep her pace on you. “He won’t fuck you if you pull out of that cock—keep sucking him off for me, Ahyeon.”

Ahyeon does, only withdrawing with the tip inside and almost taking you in entirety, and it’s an action repeated several times. Asa does her final finishing touches on your balls, leaving it slimed with her drool as she stands up and looks at you, inviting you into another torrid kiss. The both of you share the same intimacy minutes ago, tongues dancing and lips hungry for each other meanwhile Ahyeon advances herself onto your cock even more, and it’s sloppier than before.

Ahyeon slurps on your length, hungry for more as she tries to take you all in but her gag reflexes tests her and she’s taking you like a champ. She would eventually pull out, swirl her tongue all over you which makes you moan against Asa’s mouth, and the older girl smiles as you do.

“Love tasting yourself, babe?” Asa asks, her stare piercing through you as she anticipates an answer out of your lips.

“Pretty weird but… but it’s you, so I’ll let it slide.”

It’s totally peculiar, but Asa can take you to lengths unimaginable for she is insatiable and the one that can defy your limits in the leagues of sex. The both of you share a chuckle right after, indulging onto another ephemeral kiss before Ahyeon’s squelching noises distracts the both of you, and Asa clearly knows what to do to further test Ahyeon herself.

“Not gonna join our princess, baby?”

“Would love to, but…” Ahyeon pops out, looking at Asa’s finger tracing her cheeks, black trails of her mascara evident as she finds the back of Ahyeon’s head and caresses it. “...wouldn’t it be great to see our princess test how she can handle us both?”

Fuck, that’s a different side of Asa you love to see.

She always has this dynamic in her and you love the duality, especially when it’s people she’s extremely comfortable with. It just doesn’t end or limit herself onto just verbal and physical control or submission, but also external tangible items that can elevate the experience from both parties. Even with that, it seems like she’ll do it the old-fashioned way and you’d be here for a show as you nodded after her question.

“Open your mouth, princess. Then, just continue what you’re doing.” Oh yes, the pet names too, she does that to a certain extent. 

Asa’s hands tug Ahyeon’s head firmly, feeling Ahyeon bob and move with a moderate rhythm which Asa observes to be just right for a girl like her. Your hand finds Ahyeon’s dark locks and Asa’s tiny waist, until Asa herself stops you, wanting to do something which you are all ears with. “Your hands, babe. On your back, please.”

You do comply, not without another peck on her lips as you watch how Asa treats Ahyeon, letting her hand push Ahyeon further on your cock and lodging it all the way, without respite. The play of asphyxiation comes over Ahyeon’s senses, as she regulates her breath as time goes by, Asa not even hesitant to pull out and testing her limits.

Asa doesn’t care if Ahyeon gags or what because she’s in control, the utter dominance letting you marvel at the sight and moaning with the way Ahyeon is taking you all the way in. Asa keeps her firm grip on Ahyeon’s head as her lips meet the base of your cock, and that sight alone earns approval from the older girl. 

“Keep it all the way in, princess—god, you’re taking him so well.” Asa caresses Ahyeon’s hair, a cheerful tone emanating around the room as she commends Ahyeon.

“Keep staring at him—I know our daddy loves a beautiful girl staring at his eyes while she takes his cock like a needy slut.” The dynamic is evident, and Asa’s tone switches makes you throb—her dirty talks are immaculate, and that’s a given—and so is Ahyeon’s throat warming your cock.

“Which happens to be you, princess.” You’re going to fucking lose it.

Asa eventually pulls Ahyeon out of such a carnal deepthroating session, strings of saliva a mess on your cock and on Ahyeon’s chin, mouth and even her top. Ahyeon catches her breath and smiles at both of you, satisfied that she’s training to tame her gag reflex and the hotness of taking you all the way in.

“God, I-I—” Ahyeon is still catching her breath, all while you lift her chin up and place a finger on her mouth, feeling those soft lips and skin on your digits. Ahyeon sucks on it intimately, possibly making out on it as the lewd sight keeps the ambiance in such a hot mood.

“Speak up for him, princess—speak what you wanna say for our daddy.”

“T-that—that was r-really good. Fuck, I l-love it.”

“What do you love, princess?” Asa questions her, still not satisfied with a poorly articulated experience. 

“Love sucking daddy’s c-cock off, love the w-way you push me in—love the way it made me wet…” She isn’t lying, all are factual (not to boost your ego, she really loves your cock in her mouth now) and the both of you seem to have a glimpse of the aftermath of such a filthy experience.

“Baby, she’s so fucking wet, look at her.” You avert Asa’s attention over Ahyeon’s wet spot on the skirt and when the older girl helps her get up, she wants to feel and see it for herself.

“May I?” Asa asks and Ahyeon nods without hesitation, moaning against Asa as Ahyeon’s hands find Asa’s waist and shoulders, holding onto the older girl’s body as she fingers Ahyeon’s wet cunt.

“You are really soaked, princess—I think I know what she wants, babe.”

You raise an eyebrow, still resting against the wall semi-uncomfortably and grunting. “What is it? To fuck her cunt, I suppose?”

Asa smiles as she averts her attention towards the crumbling Ahyeon, who’s face is perfectly disheveled and gleaming that smile that signifies that you’re pretty much checking the boxes here. 

“Come on, Ahyeonie—say what you want him to do to you.”

Ahyeon eventually lets go of her embrace on Asa, as she bites her lip and musters up the courage to really tell you what she wants (maybe, in more detail). “Want you to fuck me silly, daddy.”

You eventually push out of the uncomfortable position you’re in, walking inches towards Ahyeon as you cup her cheek. “And what, princess? Gotta be more than that.”

“Once we get in the bedroom, daddy.” You nod as you respect Ahyeon’s ways of dirty talk, and so is Asa, and even agreeing to her as she’s wondering why the three of you are still in the hallway doing such filth.

Then, there weren’t any questions asked further as all the three of you went to the bedroom, preferably yours as Asa suggested.

---

Sure, not finishing on their throats is pretty criminal for all of the edging they did on this day because genuinely, you’re dying to cum to them.

Maybe this is a blessing in disguise, because right now, Ahyeon’s frame is just inches away from your touch. There wasn't anything to say further as you sat comfortably at your chair, letting Ahyeon straddle onto your laps as your shaft brushes against her clothed crotch. “Say it now, princess.”

“Want you to fuck me, daddy—right in my cunt, please…” Ahyeon is begging with how she looks at you, but Asa and you aren’t satisfied with her answer, because the both of you know she wants to say everything you want to do to her with no restrictions.

“Use your words, princess.” The older girl asks her, then finds her glistening cunt, teasing it as she pushes her frame closer to yours, your length leaking and messing up her skirt.

“W-want daddy to fuck me from behind, r-roughly…” Ahyeon grinds onto your cock, as you moan when she does so, encouraging her to continue her debauched words of needs with your hands caressing her shapely ass. 

“And?”

“And spank m-me harshly, pull my h-hair, kiss my body a-and—” Ahyeon is shivering as Asa tests her further, fingering her in a relentless pace as you hold her on her hips, letting her voice out what she wants further, in detail.

“And what, princess?”

“Cum in me—”

“What?” Asa pinches Asa’s shoulders as she paints that cocky smug on her, thinking that Ahyeon doesn’t deserve a load in her cunt another time, at least she hasn’t earned it (let’s add “yet” on your end). “I don’t think you haven’t earned that, princess.”

“Hey now, babe.” You glare onto Asa as the older girl pouts, then return your attention towards Ahyeon which you keep in check, legs still straddling you as you play with her tits against the fabric. “Princess, I want you to get up, bend over the bed and put your hands behind your back, is that clear for daddy?”

Ahyeon bites her lip, nodding as she follows. “Yes, daddy—want you in me so bad.”

Ahyeon hastily gets up and out of your embrace, Asa watching everything unfold as you follow Ahyeon right after.

“Guess she’s gonna take you well, no, babe?”

“We’ll see.” You chat with Asa for a little while, then marvel at the sight of Ahyeon’s perfect figure as every inch feels unreal. “After all, she rode me pretty good yesterday.”

That’s what Asa loves to hear—she caresses Ahyeon’s cheek for reassurance, because the both of them know what’s about to let loose.

“Don’t worry princess, he’ll start slow for you, okay?” Ahyeon nods as you line your throbbing cock onto her leaking slit, grasping her hips as a leverage and god, she’s beautiful whenever she’s vulnerable. Asa deftly finds some rope to tie against Ahyeon’s wrists, fulfilling what has to be done. 

“Too tight, princess?”

“No, it’s just right—please f-fuck me already…” Ahyeon is needy to the core, and there’s no second to waste because you’ve been wanting to invade her tight cunt and her flawless and ruined figure bent over serves as an invitation.

You stroke yourself a little while and then push into her and god, she feels immaculate, snug walls hugging every inch you insert sends a frenzy into you. Ahyeon whimpers uncontrollably as you pull out then tease her, even muffling her moans onto the mattress, and that alone paints a smile on your face. You didn’t really want to deprive her of any euphoria, so you eventually inserted your length inside her tightness yet again and produced a pace leisurely enough for her to get accustomed to you.

“You love daddy’s cock pummeling your pussy, princess?” Asa’s words make Ahyeon grunt, and as the younger girl is about to talk, she pulls her into a kiss, supporting her vulnerable frame with her strength, exchanging pecks and tasting each other so eagerly.

“Can taste his dick all over you, princess.”

Ahyeon gasps, painting such a lewd sight with how your cock piston against her cunt. “S-same thing—oh g-god, daddy’s so big!”

“Take her well for me, princess.” Ahyeon will do it, because she’s been built and trained to be treated as one and she’ll proudly show Asa that she can take you as well as her.

Plethora of honeyed moans fill the air and bless your ears, as you hold against her hips, ensuring a better pace to elevate the experience. You eventually command Ahyeon to lift her hips up and she does so, wanting to get rid of the piece of clothing that’s just becoming a nuisance at this point. The skirt in on the floor and utterly useless, and you didn’t care much because all you need is too wreak havoc in her pussy and let her know how much you love fucking her until incoherence.

Ahyeon’s wrists wrestle against the binds behind her back, forming fists and even more as your hands find the rope, pulling onto it as a leverage to test her. Her hands seem to magnetize onto your touch, feeling your touch with what she can do as the pace gets rougher, and are you, spanking her mounted-up backside, determined to mark what’s your red.

“God, this cunt—love fucking this cunt of yours.” Ahyeon can just muffle her moans and form bracing fists on every thrust that rocks her world, as Asa averts her attention towards you, who’s occupied with bliss and the tightness of Ahyeon’s heavenly pussy.

“How does it feel fucking her tight cunt, hm? Make you wanna cum again inside her? Let it leak on the sheets after you feel out, babe?” Jesus, Asa’s words really ignites something in you and on the bright side, she’s pretty much right, answering her own questions.

“Fuck yes—don’t worry, baby, I’ve been planning to cum inside your cunts today.” You groan as you speak your prophecy, caressing Ahyeon’s back against the clothing as your hips muster the same, harsh velocity.

“And Ahyeon’s going to get two loads? Sounds pretty unfair to me, babe.” Asa rolls her eyes as she diverts her attention towards the younger girl, pinching her ass with that rosy hue, and caressing it as she likes the debauched sight.

“Asa, babe—trust me, I’m filling you up—” Asa silences you with a torrid kiss, sloppy and measured exactly to be as long as you need to be. She pulls out, biting on your lip a little as she scans every inch of your face, painting that sincere smile of want and love.

“Of course you’ll fill me up, babe—” Asa then grasps Ahyeon’s tied wrist then runs her fingers onto the younger girl’s cheek, lifting her chin up and making that eye contact. “—but make sure you’re filling me up real good like what our princess will take…”

That you’ll promise, wholeheartedly.

Of course, you wanted to see more of Ahyeon and even with her immobile state, she tends to ease herself to show you more, Asa helping a lot as she unbuttons and lifts up the younger girl’s top, exposing that white bra and her slender back in full view. You knead her buttcheeks while they’re occupied, as Ahyeon’s plethora of needy moans advances to borderline screams every time it hits that right spot in her cunt.

“Daddy—f-fuck, I can’t h-hold much longer…” She can’t, and with her constant constrictions and her pussy getting tighter and wetter (you genuinely will need new bedsheets after you’re done with the two), it’s impossible not to tell that she isn’t close. You’re not going to punish her or anything and let herself ride it out, and Asa’s slutty mouth just makes Ahyeon’s brain go haywire, dirty talk doing wonders and altering her brain chemistry.

Her calls of your name, whimpers and the way she convulses invites you to even test against her limits, pistoning repeatedly onto the point of total domination and incoherence, and she welcomes each rough thrust against her tight pussy. You know Ahyeon can’t hold it for any longer than approximately fifteen seconds (that’s a rough estimate) so you need everything in your power overstimulate her in such a short amount of time—fingering her clit, teasing her rim, spanking her butt and even teasing her tits against the fabric.

Asa teases you, a devil talking behind your back as her words is enough for you to truly defile Ahyeon. “Fuck her up and make her cum—this sheets wouldn’t matter anymore when they’re full of Ahyeon’s juices, babe.”

Asa bites onto your ear and places kisses on your neck, her heels supporting her figure so she wouldn’t struggle and as she licks a specific spot, her words enable you onto something monstrous. “After you’ve filled her cunt, I’m riding the fuck out of you, babe.”

Ahyeon cums beautifully and you pull out to see your greatest creation, a deflowered mess as fountain of her juices meets your and sheets below (yep, you’re definitely buying new ones). 

You let her orgasm ride out, fingering her pussy as she moans when you do so, her sensitivity off the roof as you’re near to your own high thanks to such hot girls enabling you. Asa strokes your Ahyeon-sheathed cock as she pulls you in for a kiss, then wants to see for herself how it is done apart from her. “Cum inside her please, babe.”

“Please, d-daddy—cum i-inside me already…” Of course, Ahyeon begs for it as Asa bobs her head, signalling that you should ful(fill) what’s promised.

So, without any seconds to waste, you insert your length in her again and this time, you’re chasing you’re own high, spiralling towards madness and you bring onslaught of harsh thrusts against Ahyeon, and Asa is just eager to push on the edge as she always do.

“Is daddy c-close? Fuck—please cum in me again, daddy!” Even through a vulnerable state, Ahyeon manages to tilt her head up high just for you to hear what she truly needs. After all, her pussy is molded to the shape of your cock that you can’t manage to pull out and do anything stupid.

After all, she’s too fucking inviting to not pass out on that opportunity.

You erupt euphorically, plugging your entire length inside her cunt as Ahyeon cries in the pleasure and the warmth of your seed, every spurt being deposited inside her velvety walls. As illegal as it sounds, you need to marvel at your own filthy doing as you manage to just unbury your cock out of her pussy, the last spurts being painted on her ass. Ahyeon could only feel your hot cum and it feels criminal and lacking as she didn’t see how beautiful you came yet the trade off was great in all terms—a load inside her cunt is just the perfect way to end the session.

Asa reaches for your cock, groaning as she strokes you furiously, not giving a damn about how sensitive you are, wringing out every drop that you can deposit. “God, look at what you’ve done, babe.”

Asa marvels at the disheveled mess you made to Ahyeon and that sight alone makes her bite her lip, wanting you to do the same to her—freshly-fucked cunt dripping with your load, top an utter mess, her back drenched with sweat, and her ass painted with your load. The older girl pulls you into another kiss for the umpteenth time, as she manages to get herself occupied on such a filthy note.

“Recover a little, babe.” Asa pushes out of your lips’ embrace, and turns her attention towards the vulnerable girl down the bed, kneeling down and wanting to savor something for herself. “Gonna treat myself to some dessert.”

Ahyeon is getting the grasp of the situation and she elicits that sweet squeal of pleasure as Asa teases her pussylips with her fingers, also measuring the amount of cum dripping out and onto the sheets. “Wow, hope you’re not too drained yet, babe—you really filled her up.”

“Can’t help it—princess is so tight and such a good girl.” You commend Ahyeon on that, and that alone makes the younger girl chuckle and smile.

“Thank y-you, daddy—loved your warm load in my c-cunt—oh fuck, Asa…”

“You really are a greedy princess, are you, hm?” She fingers Ahyeon’s sore lips, scooping a sample of cum as it goes in her mouth, humming soundly as she feels satisfied. “Also, your cum always tastes so good.”

That flutters you, blushing as you keep yourself hooked onto the scene that’s currently unfolding: Asa easting out Ahyeon eagerly. Asa’s tongue swipes over the delicious lips of her cunt, earning moans and whimpers out of Ahyeon as she can’t control her hands, forming fists and possibly bruises for the eagerness to let go onto the knot of the rope. Ahyeon’s lips quiver with the pleasure of overstimulating her, honeyed moans turning into needy whimpers as she voices out how great Asa is eating her out.

These two have a great dynamic even when you’re out and being busy in the university, they would even find ways to hand out and fuck each other and you can see how talented Asa is—her mouth is a wonderful gift alongside her skillful, dexterous fingers.

Asa makes Ahyeon shudder, knees bending and legs kicking a little because of the pleasure she’s coursing through the younger girl’s veins, and that sight alone makes you smile and satisfied.

You stroke Asa’s luscious, black locks, feeling her bob in every second as you cherish her expertise, enabling her as much as she enabled you earlier.

“See how much cum is in there, baby? That’s going to be your cunt later and I know you’ll love it.” Of course, you know she’s always loved your load inside her, but this one feels special because it’s such a nice early birthday treat for her and because of such love that you’ve felt with her that just amplifies for each day you haven’t seen her.

This is just the perfect balance of total filth and genuine love with each other, and that’s the wonder of this polyamorous relationship.

Asa keeps slurping and eating Ahyeon out, lapping all of the cum that she can taste and with Asa herself being too horny to not feel you, she can’t take such deprivation and confessed what she’s feeling right now. Asa stands up and you untie Ahyeon’s binds, and finally, the younger girl can freely move herself and the first thing she does is to grab you by the shirt and stare at your eyes, genuinely thanking you for what you’ve given her on this day.

“Daddy, thank you so much for everything you’ve given me.” Ahyeon pecks your cheek as the both of you exchange laughs, Asa watching over and swooning over the beautiful sight of wholesomeness in the middle of such sinful filth. “Maybe it’s time for Asa’s load—she deserves one too.”

Damn right. After all, you’re dying to fill Asa up since this whole hellhole has let loose. Ever so subtly, the older girl grasps your wrists and slowly pins you down and onto the mattress, letting her frame straddle over you as she removes her heels in an instant and onto the floor, and so is her skirt.

“God, Asa’s really hot, daddy, isn’t she?” You nodded frantically, a rhetorical question at this point as every curve of Asa is perfection and of course, your attention averts towards the inviting piercing on her navel. You tease it as your hands approach her pussy, already glistening in wetness as she grinds you repeatedly.

“Gonna drain you so good, babe—fuck, can’t wait for this to get inside me, fuck.” If she promises that then she will because after all, her figure alone sends you into total hardness again and would gladly deposit every ounce left in your reservoir.

Asa doesn’t tease further, not because she can’t but because she won’t, and your inviting cock is the reason. She does what she’s best at, sinking in deep at your length as her hands press down on your chest for better support, a leverage for the gratifying feeling she’s already experiencing. Her head tilts down, as she bites her lip, every inch overwhelming her to a certain degree yet she fights it, grinding onto you and starting at a leisure pace. She gets herself accustomed to you, bouncing herself up and down as your hands find her hips, grasping on them and supporting her.

“Fuck—babe, you feel so fucking good!” Asa bites her lip as her wetness envelops you, the sounds of squelching and bodies clapping, writing a symphony in your ears. It’s purely melodic, not to mention with the way she moans, eargasmically divine and filthy—it’s just the best amalgamation of sounds a person can probably hear, and it’s turning you on a lot more.

“Fucking tight—always so tight for me, hm, baby?”

“God, yes! You c-can’t blame me, babe—argh, fuck!” Asa keeps slurring, cacophonous sounds ringing your ear as she elevates the pace, eager to deliver mutual amounts of pleasure. It’s just a monumental sight to see Asa’s frame bounce on your cock repeatedly, thighs and her abs flexing every time she does so but there’s one thing that is missing right at this moment.

Asa, as the clever girl she is, notices what’s the anomaly in this situation. “Guess you want to see my tits, no?”

Your hands roam on her slender waist, appreciating every inch as she smiles seductively when you do so, then roaming your hands onto her clothed tits, pulling her tie down to keep her close to you, “I always wanna see your tits, baby—strip for me, please.”

She obliges wholeheartedly, working on your cock as she undresses every fabric on her body that masks her beauty. Everything is flawless, like a well-orchestrated dance as she skillfully removes everything without stopping her body on your length, and that sight alone is seductive enough that it drives you crazy. It’s not like a hot girl like Asa rides you while stripping herself and putting on a show, so you’re grateful with what she can play with because in everything she is able to do, you’re marveling at it most of the time.

“God, Asa, baby—you look so fucking good.” Asa blushes with your compliment, her hands finding your shoulders as she leans down on your frame, initiating a kiss before you absolutely worship such perfection.

“You too, daddy—god y-your cock always feel so good.” Asa keeps her pace, directing your hand on her sizable tits as you fondle them, teasing those taut nipples which earned such beautiful moans out of her.

“Wish daddy could play with my tits like that…” Ahyeon’s faint voice bounces off in the distance, steadily watching the both of you as her fingers play with herself. It must be selfish to ignore her because your mind is clouded with Asa and her only at the moment but as you said, you’re never leaving Ahyeon behind despite the utmost attention Asa has garnered.

Asa continues to ride you as her hand roams around your chest, now averting her attention towards the lonely, needy Ahyeon at the distance. “Come here, princess—I can play with it if you want.”

Ahyeon’s eyes lightened up, piqued at Asa’s proposal as the younger girl finally got rid of such disheveled clothing, hastily going up and straddling at your abdomen, supporting her lithe frame as her ass rests at your torso. It feels illegal to not see the hot figure of Asa grinding on you, seeing how well her pussy hugs you but you wouldn’t complain—after all, there’s not much competition or anything similar, letting them do whatever they want to do because you love them and they needed it too as much as you needed them after all of these weeks.

You run your hands over Ahyeon’s slender, hourglass waist, her toned back flexing every time Asa plays with her is phenomenal, not to mention the moans Ahyeon orchestrates whenever Asa pinches her taut buds, her sensitivity off the roof. You're just imagining how great Asa would look bouncing on your cock at a moderate pace, closing your eyes as you savor every second of her tight cunt enveloping you. You did thrust upwards a little, your strength fighting their weight as Asa shakes with the magnitude of pleasure coursing in every inch of her body, Ahyeon making sure she’s experiencing the utmost elation, playing with her perfect;y-sized mounds as teasing the taut nipple with her fingers. 

You can just hear how sloppy they sound apart from the squelching of Asa’s pussy—their lips dancing around, pulling each other’s frame to a sloppy kiss as they battle each other with how their hands pleasure each other. It’s all a perfectly organized discord, their ebullient noises of gratification is making you throb even more and their bodies clashing to each other being a culprit on how pornographic the sight is.

This alone will be etched in your memory, and you fucking love every second of it.

You trace Ahyeon’s sweaty back, every inch of its perfection and up to the curve of her butt which you truly appreciate, earning more muffled moans out of the younger girl. They make out for at least a hot minute which you’re glad to be an audience for despite such an awkward view—either way, you can imagine it in your head and that will suffice.

Even with a certain degree of absolute mayhem between the two, Asa can’t hide the fact that she wants you for herself, being vocal about it as Ahyeon respects it, after all, you’ve had the younger girl for yesterday and earlier with a godly morning blowjob—a great breakfast down her throat is a plus.

“Hope daddy’s not too exhausted yet—the sun has barely set.” It’s pretty amazing how a supposedly innocent girl is so bold with her words, and how she’s acting that she isn’t exhausted herself from the pounding she took earlier. Yet, in all honesty, you really should have more energy stored because you want more from them and you need to be prepared for what they may have in store.

“Guess going to the gym has perks, huh, princess?”

“Guess so, daddy—Asa can vouch.” 

Asa struggles to answer, grasping it the second time as the euphoria of your cock repeatedly impaling her cunt takes up a toll on her. “God, y-yes—our cardio’s getting insane, so, I h-hope you can keep up, babe—god, you feel so good!”

Of course you will and will try to, even if it makes you pass out—you’re so down bad for them that you will do anything for them. 

Asa’s thighs buckle as her pussy wets onto the vicinity of your cock, the sheets and your hands, which is one of the culprits on how near her euphoric high will be. She seems to get tighter in each minute, which earns more guttural moans from you and that harsher grip on her hips. She’s just riding it out as she’s dangerously near, getting out with the pain you’re inflicting as you hold her frame with your arms, wrapping it on her waist and helping her chase what she needs.

She’s creaming and you’re fucking her through it, truly earth-shattering in each second that passes.

“Fuck, babe!” That was the green light, screaming her orgasmic elation as she buries her head onto your chest, holding her hands as she leaks like a faucet, forming rivulets of her juices on your thighs and the soaked sheets below (it’s not just the sheets, you’re buying a new fucking mattress after this night).

“Good girl, Asa—baby, you’re taking me so well, cum for me—all for me.” That’s your supporting role, stroking her hair and she whimpers against your chest, letting everything out as you keep your pace steady for her to handle. Her hips seems to fuck you still, impaling herself as she chases more of you, her libido in all time high as she needs you to do what you’ve promised her.

You became distracted with the sight of Asa cumming that you never noticed that Ahyeon was out of your sight, possibly in the bathroom preparing something. That sparks a little concern because you know she loves to watch this badly, but there’s nothing to be stressed about when Asa’s velvety walls are practically begging for your load.

“Please cum in me—please c-cum in me, daddy—please fucking do—please…” Asa’s begging for you, enough to fully submit to your control as you can’t resist not doing anything than just spurting it all inside her.

Still with all your might, you switched positions with her which earns a gasp from Asa, getting on top of her as you smirk, letting her know about the final blow she’ll take. 

There were no words to amplify the mood or to tease her, but your head is into the task that you’ve become borderline demonic—pounding her tight cunt with a velocity unparalleled, letting herself out of the condescending nature of hers and into submission, which she inevitably does. You keep fucking her until your hips give out, letting her legs wrap around your waist and let herself lock onto you, fulfilling what’s needed to be done as you’re dangerously near.

“Please—inside me, daddy.” Asa’s other hand pulls you into a deep, passionate kiss, now turning into something similar of lovemaking as your other hand supports her ass, fucking her deep and thorough as you’re clouding her mind as much as she’s doing it to yours. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Asa. Love you so much” You pull her into another kiss, Asa eagerly reciprocates as she pulls out, wanting to see your face as you make love to her. “I’m gonna cum in you now.”

That’s a gentle reminder but there’s nothing gentle with the way you’re pounding her—pistoning your hips into overdrive as Asa screams in pleasure, burying her head onto your shoulders as she can feel it.

You’re cumming all over, and it’s filthy and it’s perfect. Every inch of her walls is being painted white, every spurt being fucked deeper and deeper as the two of you entangle into another kiss, the elation converting onto something so spectacular—like, something so surreal.

It was a hot, ephemeral moment of delight, numerous spurts deposited inside her as she tells you how much she’s grateful for this as you tell her the same, making this moment something special and out of the ordinary sex sessions you’ve had with her.

“God, it’s so w-warm, daddy—oh my… That w-was so good…” Asa keeps kissing your lips, then your neck as she smiles ever so slightly, utterly satisfied with what you’ve given her. “Thank you so much for this—I’ve missed this.”

“I did miss this too—thank you for everything, Asa. This was—hah, really great and you took me so well”

Asa blushes with your compliment, then cups your cheeks, painting that longing expression of yearning and love, tearing up as she feels emotional being with you and this close, again. “Please stay like this, daddy—it feels so good.”

You wholeheartedly agree, never wanting to pull out as the feeling was paramount, walking on cloud nine. “I will, even with just a little while, love.”

Asa smiles with that, pecking onto her lips again and eager for another exchange, repeatedly murmuring how much you’ve missed each other as both your lips satiate each other’s hunger for each other that never ends. The both of you chuckle when you pull out of her lips’ embrace, as a familiar voice calls the both of you in the distance.

“Two lovebirds! I’m still here!” Ahyeon playfully crashes the party, both of your faces averting towards her as Asa laughs at you and rests her head onto your shoulder. 

“Sorry, princess—got lost there because of Asa. She really wanted me to cum deep in her so much that she became too submissive.”

Asa glares at you satirically, you laughing in response because of the face she made as you pull out of her snug pussy, earning a whine from her but she’s ultimately understanding why—as much as you want to keep it all inside her, you won’t keep yourself buried for long as the three of you will be occupied to do something else.

“Yah, I wasn’t that subby though—just loved it all inside me, that’s all.” Asa denying is just so adorable that you can’t help but stare so lovingly at her again, meanwhile Ahyeon was not buying that excuse of Asa, which Asa takes as something that is considered to be annoying.

“Just admit it, Asa—it’s fine, I’m always subby when daddy’s around.”

“Pfft, whatever.” Asa rolls her eyes on Ahyeon, making sure she sees it as you chuckle with their dynamic.

“Guess we’re going for a round three, daddy?” 

This girl is just insane, the both of them really are (in a good way). As much as you wanna do another one, you think to yourself that you need some time to recover and possibly, clean up the mess the three of you made to your own bodies.

“Okay, can we just clean up ourselves first, no?”

Asa feels like this is a call of something else, because what good would that do if the three of you are still going to indulge in filth yet again. “Won’t that be too worthless? We’re gonna get dirty anyways if—”

“Please, Asa?” You’re pleading and that side of yours is baffling as Asa likes it and Ahyeon, giggling and biting her lip, a bystander on what’s going to unfold. “Everything’s going to be better when you’re neat, duh.”

Well, you have a point and Ahyeon’s quick to notice that, letting you know that she’ll fire up the bathtub as Asa looks at you, sitting next to you on the bed. “We’re going to get ourselves clean, okay, babe? We’re not fucking there…”

You nodded, promising that as you sigh deeply, feeling satisfied for what just happened. You may break what you’ve promised but one thing’s for sure: both of your girls will love you for whatever you do.

Get ourselves clean, alright—that’s the right headspace, genuinely

Yet, your mind is clouded with another thought.

It wouldn’t hurt to try something, right?

---

Yeah, you lied. Nothing surprising, in all honesty.

That thought was inevitable and bound to happen, as you gave them a nice, warm facial as water mixes into your final blow. Their faces paint that familiar satisfaction, gleeful and thankful to possibly your last load for the day, laying waste on their perfect faces.

“Thank you, daddy.” Ahyeon kisses your tip, stroking you slowly as she wrings out every ounce of load stored in you, as Asa kisses your balls and your length.

“Guess you broke the promise, babe.”

“Can’t help it—not when two beautiful girls are blowing me eagerly, hm.” Asa can’t blame you as the insatiability is mutual, the feisty need to still deposit what you can somewhere lingers within you.

The bath is near full, and the three of you know better than this and not just shoot ropes of cum on their faces and taste it lewdly.

“Okay, let’s genuinely clean up.” You couldn’t agree more with that.

“We really should.”

---

This time, the three of you refrain from doing such debauchery and be productive for at least an hour, cleaning up and  preparing yourselves to be as neat yet simple for each other.

Well, genuinely, it wouldn’t matter if the three of you isn’t too invested on each other’s looks since all of you are comfortable in your place, but their simple beauty and etiquette is enough, even with such nasty sex that will eventually come—you know them enough to make that assumption lies towards the truth.

Yet right now, it’s just the best to enjoy the remaining hours of the day on such a wholesome note and what better way to do it is preparing them some delicious meals and a great movie session. It was a chaotic time with Asa when it comes to preparing the meals but it’s genuinely helpful even with the chaos that still happens—not to mention that you almost had a bruise handling a pot full of tteokbokki because of your clumsiness.

“I think we should’ve just ordered some food, babe.”

“Oh come on, really?” You’re in disbelief, feeling betrayed after exerting all of this effort with Asa. “We didn’t just do all this for nothing, baby.”

“I was thinking of some pizza just to add up here, that’s all.” Asa playfully hits your shoulder, her tone reassuring you that what you’re thinking isn’t her true intention. “After all, I really think we did a great job.”

You chuckle as Ahyeon’s voice calls you in the distance, stopping what you’re doing to avert your attention to hers. 

“What is it, Ahyeon-ah?”

“What genre do the two of you wanna watch?” She asks, staring at your eyes and pouting, anticipating an answer.

“Maybe some drama or romance can do—oh, maybe even horror, no?”

“Daddy!” You really love teasing Ahyeon with those, knowing how cute and pretty she is to the point that you’re incredibly swooning over her, the dear on those instilled as you say those words of terror. “Please not that—anything else?”

“Romance can do, Ahyeon-ie.” Asa answers her question, knowing damn well that you’d tease her until it gets annoying. “Also, can I have him for a moment? We’ll be fast.”

“Okay!” Ahyeon cheerfully answers as the younger girl returns to finding specific movies that can favor anyone’s taste, and Asa grabbing you by the wrist and drawing you out and towards the balcony.

“Hey, I’m still not done with the food, baby—what’s the matter?”

“I wanna tell something to you and you only.” She looks at the horizon and then flashes that familiar smile of hers. “I know this may sound pretty selfish but can you and I just be on my birthday? Like no one else?”

That piques your interest but never surprised—in this relationship, it’s just explainable on how clingy she is towards you, and even Ahyeon shows the same feeling towards you yesterday. Knowing how fair it sounds since Ahyeon had you all by herself yesterday, you nod which signals that you’re agreeing to what Asa proposes.

“Just so you know, you two are really greedy. Like, it’s unimaginable, y’know?” 

Asa chuckles, fixing her hair as she places her arms on your shoulders, feeling her minty scent brushing on your lips. “We really are—but thank you, babe. This night was great, can’t wait for what you have on my birthday.”

Technically, the night isn’t over but you’re thankful in the same way—the bond, gifts, fun, silliness and the sex, all of it is worth cherishing. You smile as you voice your sincere gratefulness which makes her feel the genuine love in her veins, her eyes glistening with yearning and about you.

Time feels slow as you come back to your senses after a few seconds, knowing the both of you needed to do something and not leave Ahyeon alone there (she’ll sulk if you disregard her, and you think that’s pretty cute).

“Alright, I gotta prepare the meals, baby.”

“And let me order some pizza for us.”

“Really?” That’s another annoyed face of yours, playfully showcasing your disappointment again which plays with her feelings a little. 

“What? Come on, babe—please? It’s just fair to treat you after all you’ve done…” Her pouts and that cute face whenever she pleads for something is your kryptonite, and you have no choice but to agree.

“Alright, as long as it’s not as big as the one you ordered last time.”

“Don’t worry, babe.” Asa chuckles as she reminisces that moment where you almost puke for challenging her that you can finish at least seven slices, which you deeply regret. “Not letting you do that again.”

You pull away from her embrace, then continue your dorky attitude towards her, the usual banter reverberating between the two of you as you’re satirical with the way you glared at her, going in and doing your own chores and responsibilities. 

Surely, maybe the three of you could go and fuck each other and make a mess somewhere in your place or go out and have some late night bonding sessions where you’ll truly cherish the night but one thing’s for sure: this was just the first part of what could be the best week of your entire life, and you’re calling it.

Swear to god, you still need them—you really fucking do as the spell they casted on you feels unending, and you’re drowning in that for the rest of your life.

---

A/N: this is probably a new way to enter author notes coz' i feel this fits more LOL. but anyway, hope y'all enjoy this pretty sloppy fic of mine—really did my best to make it as close on asa's birthday but i failed :( but it's fine! happy reading and this a belated birthday fic for the talented enami asa <3

[jupiterpilgrim]

Girl on the Moon

Yu Jimin (Karina) x m!reader

word count: 15K

It's fucking cold and your blazer does exactly nothing to stop it. The wind just cuts right through like the fabric doesn't exist. You should've grabbed an actual coat before leaving, but hindsight and all that. At least you remembered the hat. Small victories.

Your dress shoes click against the pavement. That's the only sound besides the wind. The whole park is basically empty, which makes sense: it's past midnight. Way past. This is the hour when normal people are home in bed, not walking along the Han River with a bag of honey butter chips in one hand and fresh bandages on the other.

The bandages are from earlier. You punched a mirror in your office. Stupid move. The mirror won that fight. Your knuckles are still throbbing to prove it.

The bench comes into view. Your bench. The one you've been visiting since you were seventeen. Back then it was college entrance exams and a father who looked at you like a disappointment. Now it's a hemorrhaging portfolio and a boardroom full of middle-aged men who look at you like you're a child playing dress-up with daddy's money.

Different problems. Same bench. Same river. Same pathetic ritual of sitting alone in the dark until your head stops screaming.

Except tonight, someone's already there.

You slow your pace. A figure hunched forward, elbows on knees, hands pressed against their head, their shoulders shaking. Not from the cold, but from crying. You can hear the faint whimpering. It's a woman. You can tell from the frame, small and slight, wearing this oversized hoodie. Her face is completely hidden, buried in her hands, and she's just... falling apart. Right there. On your bench.

Great. Just what you needed.

You glance around. The pathway stretches empty in both directions. No friends hovering nearby, no security guards, no one at all. Just you and this stranger having a breakdown on your bench at one in the morning. You could leave. Turn around, find another spot, let her have her moment of private misery without some asshole in a wrinkled blazer standing ten feet away like a creep.

But your feet don't move. Eventually, though, she becomes aware of you, because her head snaps up. That’s when the streetlight catches her face. Your own face is obscured by shadows, so she doesn't see your expression of astonishment when you see her.

It's Karina.

Yu Jimin. From aespa. The Yu Jimin whose face you've seen on billboards, variety shows and big stages. She's staring at you with red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks and an expression that's rapidly shifting from devastation to alarm. "Who are you?" She scrambles to her feet, putting distance between you. "What are you doing here?"

You don't answer immediately. Your brain is still buffering, still trying to reconcile the idol on the billboards with the crying girl in front of you, but your mouth operates on autopilot. "Well." You gesture at the trees, the river, the general ambiance of public outdoor space. "This is a park. People walk here. I just came to sit on the bench where I usually come to cry… But it seems someone beat me to it."

Jimin's expression flickers. She can't tell if you're joking or genuinely pathetic, and honestly, neither can you. "I'm sorry." She wipes hastily at her face, smearing tears across her cheek. "I'll go. I shouldn't be here anyway."

"No, no." You wave your unbandaged hand in a dismissive gesture. "I'm kidding. Stay. Bench is all yours. I'm leaving."

Who cares about the problems of Korea’s it girl when your own life is falling apart? So you turn. Start walking. Your shoes click against the pavement again, and you're already thinking about the convenience store two blocks over, whether they'll have more chips, whether you can find another bench somewhere that doesn't have a sobbing celebrity on it.

Three steps. Four. Five.

You stop.

Because the thing is: that's Yu Jimin back there. Karina. And you watched the news last week like everyone else. You saw the footage of her walking off stage mid-performance, the confused backup dancers, the fan cams cutting to black. The internet exploded with theories. Mental breakdown. Contract dispute. Secret illness. Nobody knew anything concrete, and SM Entertainment released some bullshit statement about "scheduling adjustments" that convinced exactly no one.

And now she's here. Alone. Crying by the river at one in the morning with no one around. You don’t want to go home, fall asleep, and wake up in the morning to turn on the news and hear the final, tragic headline about Yu Jimin. Knowing you could have done something.

You turn back. Jimin hasn't moved. She's watching you with wary eyes, arms wrapped around herself.

"On second thought," you say, walking toward her again, "I'd like to leave. I really would. But all that social ethics and empathy that one person is supposed to have for another is making it difficult."

"I'm fine. Really. You can go."

You stop a few feet away from the bench. Study her face in the dim light. The swollen eyes, the blotchy skin, the way her lower lip trembles even as she tries to set her jaw.

"You don't look fine."

You sit down on the opposite end of the bench, leaving a solid three feet of space between you. The wood is cold through your slacks. You settle back, stretch your legs out, and stare at the river instead of her.

"If you want to talk about it," you say, "you can. I'll listen." You give her your name. She doesn’t give you hers. Whatever. You already know it.

"I'm not going to open up to a stranger."

"That's fair." You nod. "I wouldn't either. Strangers are terrible. Half of them are serial killers or… you know." Silence. The river laps against the concrete embankment. "I'll just sit here for a while," you continue. "Until you're feeling better. And, you know." You pause. "Stop you from jumping in the river."

"What? I’d never do that.”

"Great." You shrug. "Saves me the trouble. I can't swim."

Another pause. You're not looking at her, but you can feel her gaze on the side of your face, trying to figure you out. Trying to decide if you're making fun of her or genuinely this weird. You open the bag of chips. You pop one in your mouth, chew slowly, then tilt the bag in her direction.

"Want some?"

Jimin stares at the offering like it might be poisoned. Her eyes flick to your face, then back to the chips. She reaches out. Takes one. Eats it.

"These are my favorite," she says quietly.

"I know."

"How... How do you know that?"

You chew another chip. Swallow. "I know who you are. Everyone does. You're kind of famous."

She exhales, then murmurs: "Fuck."

"Yeah."

"You're a fan."

"I own an album or two. Doesn't mean anything. I'm not going to ask for a photo or an autograph or whatever. I'm not going to tell anyone I saw you here." You pause. "Crying alone at one in the morning isn't exactly the image SM wants to project, I'm guessing."

Jimin doesn't respond. She's staring at the river now, the same way you were a moment ago. The water is black and glittering under the scattered lights of the city. "Why are you being nice to me?" she asks finally.

You consider the question. Think about the boardroom meeting from hell, the investors pulling out, the whispered conversations that stop when you enter a room. Think about your throbbing knuckles and your empty apartment and the fact that you came here tonight because you didn't know where else to go.

"I'm not being nice," you say. "I'm being a basic human being." You hold out the bag again. She takes another chip.

"What happened to your hand?" Jimin's question catches you off guard. You'd almost forgotten about it. The throbbing has faded to a dull ache. You glance down at the bandages wrapped around your knuckles, the gauze is already slightly grimy from the evening's adventures.

"This?" You hold it up. "Got into a fight. Some guys. You know how it is." She raises an eyebrow. "Happens all the time," you continue, keeping your face perfectly straight. "You should've seen the other guys. Absolutely wrecked. One of them's probably still in the hospital."

"You don't seem like the type to get into a fight."

"Excuse me?"

"Or to win one."

You press your unbandaged hand to your chest and say, incredibly offended: "That's so rude. I'm very intimidating. You clearly don't know my reputation; I've beaten up half the guys in this city. "

"Uh huh."

"I do."

"Sure."

You hold the pose for another beat, then let it drop. Shrug. "Okay, you've got good eyes. I punched a mirror."

"A mirror?"

"In my office. Full-length. Extremely expensive. Had this whole elegant frame, imported from somewhere in Europe." You flex your fingers experimentally, wince slightly. "It won."

"Why would you punch a mirror?"

"Because the wall was too far away."

Before you can react, Jimin reaches over and takes your hand. Her fingers are cold against your skin as she turns your wrist, examining the bandages with a frown. The touch is clinical, careful, but it still sends something strange through your body.

"Don't do that again," she says. "You could have been seriously hurt. This needs to be rewrapped. Did you even clean it properly?"

"A doctor looked at it."

"A real doctor?"

"The emergency room kind. With a degree and everything."

She lets go of your hand. "I'm serious. That was stupid."

You tuck your hand back in your lap. "Sorry, If I'd known Yu Jimin would be upset about it, I wouldn't have done it."

Jimin's nose scrunches. It's subtle, but you catch it. "That's a weird thing to say to someone you just met."

"I'm a weird person. Ask anyone."

She doesn't respond to that. Instead, she reaches for the chip bag still sitting between you, pulls out another handful, and chews slowly. The crunch is the only sound for a long moment. "Why did you do it?" she asks. "The mirror thing. Were you drunk?"

"Stone cold sober." You lean back against the bench, tilt your head toward the sky. The stars are invisible here. Too much light pollution. Just a flat expanse of urban grey. At the lake house, there are probably stars in the sky. "I was angry."

"At what?"

"Everything. My life is crumbling right in front of me and there's nothing I can do about it. I just have to sit there and watch it fall apart, piece by piece, while everyone stands around waiting for me to fix it." You pause. "The worst part is that it's my fault. All of it. Every single thing that's going wrong right now is because of decisions I made."

Jimin is quiet. Listening.

"Now everyone hates me," you continue. "My investors. My board. My employees, probably. They all look at me like I'm some kind of idiot child who got lucky once and has been failing upward ever since." You give a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. "Maybe they're right."

"What happened?" Jimin asks. "With your company?"

You think about how much to tell her, how much you even want to say out loud. But between the darkness, the late hour, and how ridiculous this whole situation is, this bench and Jimin seem very much like a safe space.

"I made a bet," you say. "A big one. Moved a lot of money into a position that I was sure would pay off. Everyone told me it was risky. Everyone told me to hedge, to be careful, to think about the downside. And I told them they were being cowards." You close your eyes. "I was wrong. The position collapsed. We lost... a lot. More than I want to think about. And now the investors are pulling out, the board wants my head, and the company I built is probably going to be sold off to some private equity firm that'll gut it for parts."

"That sounds..."

"Pathetic? Yeah."

"I was going to say overwhelming."

You open your eyes. Look at her. "Same thing, in my experience."

Jimin pulls her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "Do you feel powerless?"

"Every second of every day lately."

She nods slowly. "Me too," she says quietly.

You turn to face her more fully. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then I guess we have a lot in common. Karina and I, united by a shared feeling. Who would have thought, huh?”

A breeze picks up, carrying the smell of water and city and approaching rain. You watch Jimin shiver, then you shrug out of your blazer. It's rumpled, probably smells like stress sweat, but it's wool and it's warm.

"Here."

She looks at the offered jacket, then at you. "No, I'm fine."

"You're shaking."

"It's not that cold."

"Your lips are turning blue."

"They are not."

"Just take it." You hold it out further. "I'm not being polite. I'm being practical. If you get hypothermia out here, I'm the one who has to deal with it, and I really don't want to explain to the paramedics why I was hanging out with an idol at one in the morning."

Jimin hesitates. Then, slowly, she takes the blazer. Drapes it over her shoulders. It swallows her, the sleeves hanging past her hands, the hem nearly reaching her thighs.

"It fits you perfectly," you say.

She looks down at herself. A ghost of something that might be amusement crosses her face. She pulls the blazer tighter around herself and asks: "Are you scared?"

You take a moment before answering. "Yes."

"Of what?"

"Losing everything. Proving everyone right about me. Finding out that I really am just a lucky idiot who got in over his head." You pick at the edge of your bandage. "Waking up one day and realizing I wasted my entire life chasing something that was never going to work out." Jimin nods. Like she understands. Like she knows exactly what that fear tastes like. "What about you?" you ask. "What are you afraid of?"

"Getting lost," she replies. "Not knowing who I am anymore." She presses her forehead to her knees. "I've been doing this for so long. Being Karina. Being what everyone wants me to be. And somewhere along the way, I think I forgot who I was before all of it. Who I am underneath. Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and can’t see myself. A body with no face.” You don't say anything. You just listen. "I don't know who I really am," she continues. "And I don’t know how to figure it out."

"I had a girlfriend in college," you say after a moment. "She was really into esoteric stuff. Crystals, tarot cards, meditation retreats. The whole thing. She used to say that when you think too much, your mind separates from your body. Like it just... drifts away. Floats off somewhere and leaves the rest of you behind." You wave your uninjured hand. "She said the key was recalibration. Bringing your mind back to your body. Grounding yourself in the physical."

"How do you do that?"

You shrug. "No idea. We broke up before I figured that part out." Jimin lets out a breath. It's almost a laugh. "But you'll figure it out," you add. "Eventually. You seem smart."

"You don't know me."

"I know you have good taste in chips. That's something."

You stand up. Your body protests, joints stiff from the cold, but you ignore it. You grab the bag of chips (still half full) and hold it out to her. "Here. Take the rest."

She looks up at you. "I can't take your chips."

"Consider it a gift. From one pathetic person crying in a park to another."

Jimin takes the bag, holds it in her lap.

"My company," you say, "is in the Yeouido financial district. The building with the copper spire that's shaped like a twisted flame. You can't miss it. Only building in Seoul that looks like it's actively on fire." You pause. "My office is on the top floor. If you ever want to talk. Or just sit somewhere warm and eat snacks in silence. Whatever. Just show up."

She stares at you. "You're inviting me to your office?"

"Yeah. Is that weird? I feel like I lost my social instincts a while back."

"Why?"

"Because I have a lot of snacks up there, and no one to share them with." You start backing away, keeping your eyes on her. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Jimin-ssi. Genuinely. Even under the circumstances."

She doesn't respond. Just watches you, the blazer still wrapped around her shoulders, your chips still clutched in her hands.

"And maybe stop going out alone in the middle of the night," you add. "It's not safe. There are weirdos everywhere. Present company included." You take a few more steps backward. Almost trip on a crack in the pavement. Recover with what you hope is dignity. "One more thing."

Jimin tilts her head.

"You're my favorite in aespa," you say. "Always have been. Total diva."

And there it is. Finally. The corner of her mouth twitches, then lifts, and she smiles. It’s small, tired, still a little broken, but it’s there. Real.

“Thank you,” she says.

You turn and walk away before you can say another stupid thing. At least tonight, you’ll go to sleep knowing you made Karina from aespa crack a small smile.

—

It's a hallway big enough for everyone, but they insist on staying close to you. Your chief financial officer walks on your left, rattling off numbers that stopped meaning anything to you three days ago. Your head of operations flanks your right as he lists every reason why this trip is a terrible idea. Behind you, your assistant struggles to keep up while she reminds you about the seventeen emails you haven't answered.

You? Well, you’re starting to get pissed about the lack of personal space.

"You can't just leave," the CFO says. "There's too much happening here. The quarterly reports need your signature by Friday, and the auditors are asking questions about the Singapore accounts."

"I'm taking my MacBook." You don't slow down. "I can do everything remotely. That's the whole point of technology."

"With respect, sir, you said that last time and then you disappeared for three days without answering a single call."

"It won't happen again. You have my word."

Your operations head cuts in. "The meeting will also be on Friday. The board meeting. You need to be there. Everything is at stake. They're going to vote on whether to accept the acquisition offer, and if you're not present to argue against it, they'll sell us off without a second thought."

"I'll be there." You reach the elevator bay and press the button. "I'll be back on Friday morning. I'll sit in that room and I'll argue until I'm blue in the face. But right now, today, I'm getting on a plane."

"Sir, please, we need to discuss the restructuring proposal. The legal team has concerns about the liability clauses, and the PR department wants to schedule a press conference to address the investor concerns, and there's the matter of the pension fund adjustments that require your direct approval, and honestly we're all very worried about your mental state given recent events and we think perhaps you should speak to someone, a professional, someone who can help you process what's happening because this level of avoidance behavior is concerning and we care about you as a person not just as our employer and—"

The elevator doors open and there she is: Seol Yoon-a. Standing dead center like she's posing for a photoshoot. Her hair's down, these perfect brown waves past her shoulders, so glossy that makes you wonder if it's even real. Angular face, delicate features, coral pink lipstick. She's tall. Taller than you right now, but it's because of the high heels. The short blue dress is definitely designer, you can tell just by looking at it. And she's holding her dog. A tiny white Pomeranian with a rhinestone collar, cradled in her arms like it's a purse.

She looks absolutely furious.

"I have been trying to reach you all morning," she says. "All. Morning. I called seven times. Seven. I texted you fourteen messages. I even tried emailing."

You step into the elevator. The doors close behind you, sealing you in with her and the world's most judgmental Pomeranian.

"I was in meetings."

"You were avoiding me."

"Those aren't mutually exclusive."

"You've been so irresponsible lately," she continues. "Missing dinners. Canceling plans. Last week you forgot we were supposed to go to that gallery opening, and I had to show up alone like some kind of abandoned housewife."

"My company is on the verge of collapse." You watch the floor numbers tick upward. "I think I've earned the right to be a little irresponsible."

"That's not an excuse."

"It's literally the definition of an excuse. A reason for not doing something. My reason is corporate bankruptcy."

She huffs. The Pomeranian huffs with her. You wonder if she trained it to do that or if it just absorbed her personality through proximity.

"What about dinner tonight?" she demands. "With my parents? They've been wanting to meet you for months now, and I finally convinced them to fly in from Busan, and the reservation at that restaurant took three weeks to get, and my father is very particular about punctuality, and my mother is going to ask me why you're not there, and what am I supposed to tell her? That my boyfriend is too busy having a crisis to show basic courtesy?"

"We've already talked about this: I'm not your boyfriend,” you remind Yoon-a and see her face deflate right before your eyes. You exhale and add: “Yet. I’m not your boyfriend… yet. And I can't do that right now. I have too much going on. Your parents will have to wait."

"You always say that. You always have some excuse. I'm starting to think you don't even like me anymore."

You exhale slowly. Count to three. Try to find the diplomatic answer, the gentle deflection, the words that will smooth this over without actually addressing the underlying issue.

"I like you," you say. "But sometimes you can be a little... clingy."

Yoon-a's eyes go wide. Her mouth drops open. The Pomeranian actually stops yapping, like even it knows you've crossed a line.

"Clingy?" She repeats, completely horrified, like it’s the most offensive thing a guy could ever say to a girl. "You think I'm clingy?"

"I said a little."

"How could you say that?" She clutches the dog closer, and her outrage reaches a fever pitch. "How could you say that in front of our son?"

Your eyes sweep over the tiny fluffball, unimpressed, before flicking to her. "Pretty sure our son doesn’t shed this much.”

"Excuse me?"

"That dog isn't our son. You've had him for four years. We've been together for eight months. The math doesn't work."

Yoon-a literally gasps. Like you've said something unforgivable. She claps one hand over the Pomeranian's ear, pressing his fluffy head against her chest.

"Don't listen to him, baby," she coos. "He doesn't mean it. He's just having one of his moods."

"I'm not having a mood. I'm stating a fact."

The elevator dings. The doors open onto the ground floor lobby. Yoon-a steps out. Turns to face you. Her eyes are glistening (whether from genuine hurt or theatrical effect, you can't tell.)

“If you’re gonna be petty and take your frustration out on our innocent kid, then we’re done," she announces. "It's over. Don't look for me again. Don't call me. Don't text me. Don't even think about me." She spins on her heel and strides away.

"Yoon-a." You step out of the elevator, follow her a few paces. "Yoon-a, wait. We should talk about this."

She doesn't turn around. Doesn't slow down. Just keeps walking. You stand there for a moment. Processing. Then you shake your head and keep walking.

You're maybe twenty steps from the main exit when someone intercepts you. A young woman from the front desk. "Sir? I'm sorry to bother you, but there's someone here who wants to speak with you."

"I cancelled all my appointments today."

"I know, sir, but she was very insistent, and she's been waiting for almost an hour, and she said you'd want to see her."

You frown. "Who is it?"

The receptionist hesitates. Glances over her shoulder toward the lobby seating area. "She says her name is Yu Jimin. Karina. From… aespa.” You stop walking.

It's been two weeks since that night by the river. Two weeks since you sat on a bench with Yu Jimin and shared chips and talked about falling apart. Two weeks since you gave her your blazer and told her where to find you and walked away thinking that was probably the last time you'd ever see her. You'd convinced yourself she wouldn't come. Why would she? You're a stranger. A random guy she met while crying in a park. The invitation was impulsive, probably inappropriate, definitely weird. Any sensible person would have thrown your blazer in the trash and forgotten the whole thing.

And yet.

"Where?" you ask. The receptionist points toward the seating area near the windows. And there she is: Jimin sits on one of the low leather couches, her posture slightly hunched, her hands folded in her lap. She's wearing a baseball cap pulled low and a face mask that covers half her features, the standard idol disguise that fools absolutely no one. On the couch beside her sits Yoon-a.

Oh no.

You move closer, and fragments of conversation reach you: "Are you Karina?" Yoon-a is asking, leaning in with that curiosity she gets when she thinks she's discovered something interesting. "From aespa? You look exactly like her."

"No." Jimin's reply is quiet, muffled by the mask. "I get that a lot, though."

"The resemblance is insane. Like, identical. Are you sure you're not her?"

"I'm sure."

Yoon-a tilts her head, studies Jimin for another moment, then seems to accept the answer. "Well, whoever you are, your hair is gorgeous. What products do you use?"

"Um. Thank you. I don't really—"

"Anyway, I have to go. My ex-boyfriend is being dramatic and I need to go post something on Instagram that will make him jealous." Yoon-a stands, adjusts the Pomeranian in her arms, and sweeps away without a backward glance.

Jimin watches her go with visible relief. Then she sees you. She stands quickly, pulling down her mask. Her face is bare of makeup, her hair tucked under the cap. "Hi," she says.

"Hi." A beat of silence. The lobby hums around you, people coming and going, phones ringing, the distant chime of elevators. "I thought I’d never see you again," you say. "Honestly. I thought you'd written me off as some weirdo who talks to crying strangers."

"You are a weirdo who talks to crying strangers."

"Fair point."

She shifts her weight, uncertain. "Is this a bad time? I should have called first. I didn't have your number, so I just showed up, which is probably weird, I know, I can leave if you're busy—"

"Any time is a bad time right now." You shrug. "My entire life is a bad time. So it doesn't really matter."

That seems to relax her slightly. She reaches into the bag slung over her shoulder and pulls out something familiar. Your blazer, folded neatly. "I came to return this," she says. "And also... I don't know. I've been thinking about that conversation we had. About you. About everything you said." She pauses, searching for words. "I thought it might be nice to see you again. If that's okay."

You take the blazer from her hands. The fabric still smells faintly of her perfume. "It's okay," you say.

Her gaze drops to the overnight bag slung over your shoulder, the coat draped over your arm. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yeah. I'm..." You hesitate. "I'm taking a trip. Getting out of the city for a few days. Clear my head."

"Oh.” Her eyes flick down for a moment. “Then I should let you go. I didn't mean to interrupt your plans."

You should probably just let her go. Say goodbye, wish her well, catch your flight solo like you'd originally planned. Be a normal, sensible person about this. That's what you're supposed to do here. That's the appropriate move.

But you're looking at her standing there, and you're thinking about two weeks of radio silence. You're thinking about how she smiled at you that night. Just once. Just barely. But she did. "Come with me," you say.

"What?"

"Come with me. On the trip."

"I—what? I can't just—you're not serious."

"I'm going to my family's lake house. A few hours outside the city. I'll be the only one there. Totally empty. Totally quiet." You pause. "Company would be nice. If you want."

She stares at you like you've lost your mind. Which, to be fair, you might have. "Don't you have a girlfriend or something?" she asks.

"The girl who was talking to you a minute ago, she was almost my girlfriend. Emphasis on was and almost." You sigh. "Pretty sure I ruined that. Again. It's becoming a pattern."

"She was beautiful."

"Yeah. In another universe, she's probably an idol. Could give you a run for your money." You tilt your head, considering. "In this universe, she's just a kind of ditzy rich girl. Good heart, though. Deep down." Jimin doesn't seem to know how to respond to that. "The offer stands," you continue. "Private jet. Lake house. Fresh air. It might be my last trip on that plane, actually. I'll probably have to sell it soon to cover some debts. Might as well enjoy it while I can."

"I'm not ready," she says. "I don't have a suitcase. I don't have clothes. I didn't plan for this."

You check your watch. "You have an hour and a half. Go home, pack a bag, get your documents and meet me at Gimpo airfield. I'll text you the details."

"This is insane. I shouldn't be traveling alone with someone I barely know."

"Definitely not. Objectively, this is one of the stupidest things anyone could do."

She crosses her arms. Narrows her eyes at you. "How do I know you're not going to murder me or something?"

"I don't like blood." You hold up your hand, showing her the healing scars across your knuckles. "When I punched that mirror and saw it bleeding, I almost passed out. Had to sit down for ten minutes. My secretary had to bring me juice."

Her expression softens slightly. "How is it? Your hand?"

"Better. See? All healed up. No lasting damage."

"Good."

"So no murders," you say. "I'd honestly prefer to keep all your blood and organs exactly where they are. Inside your body. Where they belong."

Jimin just looks at you. For a while. Long enough that you're starting to wonder if she heard you correctly. She's clearly thinking it over. You can see it on her face. The mental math she's doing: how bad could this go versus how bad is everything already? Scary unknown versus scary known. Taking a chance versus playing it safe. "Okay," she says finally. "I'll come."

You grin. "It's going to be great," you tell her. "Sun. Water. Peace and quiet. You should bring a bikini.”

"A bikini."

"For swimming. In the lake. It's very refreshing."

"Uh huh... You realize you sound completely deranged right now, right? 'Come to my isolated lake house, strange woman I met while she was crying. Bring a bikini.'"

"When you say it like that—"

"How else should I say it?"

"More... optimistically?"

She laughs. "You're crazy. Like, genuinely crazy. I should probably run."

"But you're not going to."

"No," she admits. "I'm apparently just as crazy as you are."

—

By the time you and Jimin make it from the car to the front door, you're both soaked from the knees down despite your best efforts. The wind keeps changing direction, driving sheets of water sideways, and the umbrella is basically decorative at this point. You fumble with the keys. Drop them once. Curse under your breath. Finally get the door open and practically shove Jimin inside before following her, slamming the door shut against the storm.

The house is dark. Quiet. You find the light switch and the entryway floods with warm yellow glow, illuminating hardwood floors and cream-colored walls and the faint layer of dust on the decorative table by the door. Jimin sets two small suitcases in the corner. You drop your bag beside it. Water drips from both of you, pooling on the floor.

"So," you say, before she can say anything. "Yeah. I know. I said there would be sun. I specifically mentioned sun. And a lake. And bikinis." She looks at you. Doesn't say anything. Just looks. "This is climate change," you continue, gesturing at the windows where rain lashes against the glass. "The weather's completely unpredictable now. Changes overnight. There's literally no way I could have known this was going to happen. It was sunny when we left Seoul." Still nothing. Just that steady gaze. "But hey." You move further into the house, hitting more light switches as you go. "At least the power works. See? Fully functional. Lights, electricity, the whole deal. Modern amenities."

To prove your point, you grab the remote from the coffee table and turn on the television mounted above the fireplace. The screen flickers to life, and a news anchor's face fills the frame. "—unprecedented storm system that meteorologists have been tracking for weeks now," the anchor is saying. "Residents in the affected areas have been advised to stay indoors and avoid unnecessary travel. The storm is expected to continue through the weekend, with rainfall totals potentially reaching—"

You become very aware of Jimin standing behind you. "Okay." You clear your throat. "So apparently they have been talking about this. For weeks. Allegedly."

"Allegedly."

"I don't watch the news. Who watches the news anymore? It's all doom and gloom. Very bad for mental health." You turn to face her, attempting something like an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry. You must be upset."

Jimin shrugs. Pulls off her damp jacket and drapes it over the back of a chair. "It's fine."

"It's not fine. I promised you sun and delivered a monsoon."

"I wasn't really in the mood for sun anyway." She looks around the living room, taking in the leather couches, the stone fireplace, the floor-to-ceiling windows that currently showcase nothing but grey sheets of rain. "This is better, actually."

"See?" You point at her triumphantly. "I manage to get things right even when I completely screw up. It's a gift."

"—still no word on the whereabouts of Yu Jimin, known professionally as Karina of the K-pop group aespa. The idol, who mysteriously disappeared earlier this week, has not been seen publicly since—" You watch Jimin's expression freeze. "—sources close to the group suggest she may be traveling alone, though her exact location remains unknown. Fans and media alike have expressed growing concern following her abrupt departure from the group's final tour concert last month. SM Entertainment has declined to comment on the situation, releasing only a brief statement asking for privacy during this difficult time—"

You turn off the TV. "Did you tell anyone where you were going?" you ask.

Jimin moves to the window. Stares out at the storm. "I told them I was traveling. That I was fine. That I needed some time."

"But not where."

"No. Not where."

"People are going to be worried. Your members. Your family."

"I know." Her breath fogs the glass. "But it's better this way. If they knew where I was, they'd come. They'd try to help. And I can't... I don't want that right now.” You don't push. Don't ask why. "So." Jimin turns away from the window. "What are we going to do here?"

You scratch the back of your neck. "Honestly? I have no idea."

"You didn't plan anything?"

"The whole trip was impulsive. I wasn't thinking past 'get out of Seoul before I lose my mind.' And now..." You gesture at the rain. "There's not much we can do in this weather anyway."

Another silence. You both avoid looking directly at each other, which is ridiculous, because you're adults and this is just a house and there's nothing weird about any of this except for the part where everything about this is incredibly weird. You're a businessman on the verge of bankruptcy. She's a global pop star who just disappeared from the public eye. You're standing in your family's lake house in the middle of nowhere while a storm rages outside, and neither of you has any idea what you're doing here.

"Do you want to see the lake?" you ask suddenly.

"In this?"

"There should be raincoats somewhere. My family used to keep outdoor stuff in the mudroom." You pause. "But first, let me show you the house. So you know where everything is." She nods. Follows you as you move through the ground floor.

The lake house is two stories of weathered wood and large windows. The ground floor is mostly open plan, the living area flowing into a kitchen that hasn't been updated since the early 2000s but still works fine. A dining table that seats eight people who no longer gather here. A fireplace that you should probably light later, assuming you remember how. Sliding glass doors that lead to a deck overlooking the water, currently being pelted by rain so hard you can barely see the lake beyond. You flip on lights as you go, chasing away the gloom. "This is all very nice," Jimin observes, running her fingers along the edge of the kitchen island. "Your family has money." She opens the refrigerator. Stares at the contents. "There's food in here."

"Yeah, I called ahead. There's a company that does this, stocks up vacation homes before people arrive. Groceries, supplies, fresh linens. Very convenient when you're rich." You lean against the counter. "Or when you used to be rich..."

"That's very... prepared of you."

"I have my moments."

She closes the refrigerator and you continue the tour, showing her the small bathroom off the hallway, the laundry room with its industrial-sized washer and dryer, the study lined with bookshelves that your father never actually read.

The stairs creak as you climb to the second floor. The sound is familiar. Kind of comforting, in a strange way. "Master bedroom is at the end of the hall," you say, pointing. "That one's mine when I'm here. There are two guest rooms. This one—" You open a door on the left. "Has the better view."

Jimin steps inside. The room is simple but comfortable. Queen-sized bed with a white duvet, wooden dresser, soft carpet underfoot. But the window takes up most of the far wall, and even through the rain, you can see the lake stretching out beyond the property line, grey water merging with grey sky. "It's beautiful," she says softly. "Even with the storm."

"Yeah." You lean against the doorframe, watching her watch the view. "It's a peaceful place. Was, anyway."

"Was?"

"My family's been thinking about selling it. The whole area used to be full of families who came for the summers. Kids running around, barbecues on the weekends, boats on the lake. But over the last few years..." You shrug. "People started leaving. Selling their houses. The economy changed, people's priorities changed. Now half the homes around here are empty. The ones that aren't belong to people who only show up once or twice a year."

Jimin turns from the window. "That's sad."

"It is what it is." You examine a scratch on the doorframe, remembering when you put it there. You were twelve. A hockey stick. Your mother had been furious. "I told my father I'd buy the place myself if he tried to sell. He laughed at me. Said I was being sentimental."

"Were you?"

"Probably. But I don't care." You look around the room, at the walls that have witnessed more of your life than most people. "My family stopped coming here years ago. Now it's just... a graveyard of memories, I guess. A place where ghosts of who we used to be hang out."

"That sounds lonely."

"It is. But it's also one of the few places where I can pretend my problems can't reach me." You meet her eyes. "It's not true, obviously. They're still there. Waiting. But here, I can ignore them for a while. Act like they don't exist."

Jimin is quiet for a moment. Processing. "Then we'll pretend together," she says. "Both of us. For however long we're here. No problems. No expectations. No outside world."

You smile. Actually smile, not the sarcastic smirk you usually default to, but something genuine.

"Yeah," you say. "That sounds like a good plan. Come on, let's grab our raincoats.”

The raincoat is bright yellow and two sizes too big, clearly designed for someone with broader shoulders and longer arms than you possess. The sleeves hang past your wrists and the hood keeps slipping forward into your eyes. Jimin's raincoat is green, equally oversized, and she looks like she's being slowly consumed by a plastic tarp. Neither of you comments on how ridiculous you both look.

The wind hits you the moment you step off the porch, sharp and wet and insistent, pushing against your chest. You shove your hands into the raincoat's pockets and start walking, and Jimin falls into step beside you without a word. The path to the lake is overgrown. Weeds push through the gravel, and the bushes on either side have grown wild. Your family used to keep this place immaculate. Hired groundskeepers, regular maintenance, the whole thing. Now it's slowly returning to nature, one missed appointment at a time.

Rain drums against your hood in a constant, rhythmic patter. Your sneakers (you'd changed out of the dress shoes, thankfully) squelch in the mud. The air smells like wet earth and pine. You don't talk. Neither does Jimin. The trees thin out and suddenly the lake is in front of you, stretching gray and vast and choppy under the assault of the storm. Waves roll across the surface, small but persistent, breaking against the rocky shore with soft, repetitive sounds. The far side of the lake is barely visible through the rain, just a smudge of green that might be forest.Jimin stops at the edge of the water. Stands there. Watches.

You watch her watch the lake for a moment, then your attention drifts downward. Stones. The shoreline is littered with them. You bend down, pick one up, test its weight in your palm. Your arm snaps forward. The stone hits the surface at an angle and skips once, twice, three times before sinking.

"Not bad," you mutter to yourself. You find another stone. Skip it. This one gets four jumps before disappearing. Jimin still hasn't moved.

"What's your favorite memory of this place?" You pause mid-throw, stone in hand, and actually think about it.

"Fishing," you say finally. "With my grandfather."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You let the stone fly. Three skips. "He used to take me out on this little rowboat he kept tied up by the dock. Every summer, without fail. We'd go out early in the morning, before anyone else was awake, and just sit there on the water with our lines in."

Jimin turns to look at you. The rain runs down her face, dripping off her chin, but she doesn't to care. "Did you catch anything?"

"Never." You laugh. "Not once. My grandfather said the fish in this lake were too smart for us. I think he just didn't know what he was doing, honestly. But it didn't matter. We'd sit there for hours anyway, talking about nothing, watching the sun come up. He'd tell me stories about when he was young. I'd complain about school. It was nice."

"That sounds nice."

"It was." You find another stone. Don't throw it. Just turn it over in your fingers, feeling the smooth surface. "I've never fished since he died. Haven't been on that boat either. I don't even know if it's still there."

"You should check."

"Maybe."

Jimin is quiet for a moment. Then: "I've never been fishing."

"No?"

"No. I grew up in the city. The closest I ever got to nature was the park near my apartment, and that was just grass and pigeons."

"You should try it sometime. Fishing, I mean. It's boring as hell, but in a good way."

"Would you teach me?"

You laugh again. "I would, but I don't actually know how. My grandfather died before he finished teaching me everything." You pause. Shrug. "At least I know how to bait a hook. That's something."

"I'm sorry," Jimin says softly. "About your grandfather."

"It's okay. It was a long time ago." You throw the stone. It skips five times. Your best one yet. "He was old. Sick. It was expected. Doesn't mean it didn't suck, but... you know. Life." Jimin nods. Doesn't offer any platitudes, any empty comforts. Just accepts the statement for what it is. You throw a few more stones. The rain keeps falling. The lake keeps churning. "How are you feeling?" you ask eventually. "Inside, I mean. Not just the wet and cold part."

Jimin doesn't answer immediately. She wraps her arms around herself and stares out at the water. "Tired," she says. "Really tired. Which doesn't make sense, because I'm not doing anything. I haven't been doing anything for weeks. But I wake up exhausted and I go to bed exhausted and the sleep in between doesn't help."

"Are you sleeping?"

"Not well. A few hours here and there. My brain won't shut up." She kicks at a stone near her foot, sending it tumbling into the water with a plop. "It's like there's this constant noise in my head. Thoughts that won't stop. Worries that won't go away. And the more I try to quiet them, the louder they get."

"Yeah," you say. "I know what that's like."

"At the same time..." She trails off. Takes a breath. "At the same time, I feel like I want to scream. Just open my mouth and let everything out. All the frustration and the fear and the anger and whatever else is stuck inside me. I want to scream until my throat is raw and my lungs are empty and there's nothing left."

You pick up another stone. Hold it. Don't throw. "So scream," you say.

Jimin looks at you. “What do you mean?"

"Scream. If you want to scream, scream."

"I can't just... scream. In the middle of nowhere. That's crazy."

"Why not? There's no one here to hear you. Just me, and I don't care." You gesture at the lake, at the rain, at the empty expanse of wilderness surrounding you. "This is literally the perfect place to scream. No neighbors. No fans. No cameras. Just water and trees and a storm that's loud enough to drown out anything." She's looking at you like she's trying to figure out if you're serious. You get that look a lot. "I want to scream too," you admit. "I've wanted to scream for weeks. Maybe months. Maybe years, honestly. There's a lot of stuff in here—" you tap your chest "—that needs to come out. And I figure if I'm going to do it, might as well do it now. Might as well do it here." Jimin still looks uncertain. Skeptical.

So you turn toward the lake. Plant your feet. Fill your lungs with wet, cold air. And you scream. It's not a word. Not a name. Not anything coherent. Just sound, raw and loud, ripping out of your throat and hurling itself across the water. You scream until your lungs are empty, until your voice cracks, until the sound dissolves into the rain and the wind and the endless grey. Then you stop. Breathe. Your throat burns slightly.

Jimin is staring at you with wide eyes. "Your turn," you say.

She hesitates. Looks at the lake. Looks back at you. Then she screams.

It starts small, tentative, like she's testing the waters. But then something breaks loose inside her, something that's been building for god knows how long, and the scream grows. It gets louder, longer, more desperate. Her whole body tenses with the effort of it, hands clenched into fists at her sides, face tilted toward the sky. She screams like she's trying to empty herself out. Like she's trying to purge every bad thought, every fear, every moment of doubt and pain and exhaustion that's been weighing her down.

When she finally stops, she's breathing hard. Her eyes are wet, and you can't tell if it's rain or tears. "That was great," you say. "Really solid scream. Eight out of ten."

She lets out a shaky laugh. "Only eight?"

"Room for improvement. Here, let's do it together. On three."

"This is ridiculous."

"One."

"I'm not doing this."

"Two."

"You're insane."

"Three." You both scream. Together. Two voices rising over the lake, tangling with the wind and the rain, filling the empty space with something loud and alive. You scream until you can't anymore, until you're both bent over with your hands on your knees, gasping for air, throats raw. Jimin starts laughing. It's a small sound at first, barely audible over the storm, but it grows. She laughs until she's clutching her stomach, until she has to sit down on a wet rock because her legs won't hold her anymore.

You sit down next to her. Don't say anything. Just let her laugh. Eventually, she calms down. Wipes her face with the back of her hand, which doesn't help because her hand is just as wet as her face.

"How do you feel?" you ask.

"A little better," she admits. "Not fixed. But... lighter, maybe.”

"That's the magic of screaming into the void," you say. "I should start charging for this."

Jimin snorts. "Please don't."

"Fine. Free screaming sessions for you. Special discount." You stand up. Offer her your hand. "Come on," you say. "Let's walk around the lake. The path goes all the way around if you follow it. Takes about an hour." She takes your hand. Lets you pull her to her feet. Doesn't let go immediately, and neither do you.

"An hour in this rain?" she asks.

"We're already soaked. Can't get any wetter."

"That's not technically true."

"Are you always this pedantic?"

"Are you always this impulsive?"

"Yes," you say. "You better get used to it.” You start walking. She falls into step beside you, close enough that your shoulders almost brush. The rain keeps falling. The wind keeps blowing. Neither of you talks much. Just walks. Breathes. Exists in the same space.

The path curves around the eastern edge of the lake, narrowing where the trees press closer, their branches heavy with rain. Your sneakers make obscene squelching sounds with every step, and you've given up trying to keep your socks dry. That battle was lost about twenty minutes ago. "Have you thought about what you'll do?" Jimin asks suddenly. "If things don't work out?"

You glance at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." She hesitates. Kicks at a pebble on the path. "I know it's going to work out. Everything will be fine. But hypothetically. If it doesn't. Have you thought about it?" She pauses again. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

You consider deflecting. Making a joke. Changing the subject. That's what you usually do when conversations get too close to the things you don't want to look at. But you don’t.

"There's a very good chance I'm going to end up completely screwed," you say. "Like, financially devastated. Career over. Reputation destroyed. The whole thing. I still have my family, technically. My father would probably let me crawl back. He'd love that, actually. His disappointing son finally admitting defeat. Finally proving that he was right all along, that I was too young, too arrogant, too stupid to run a company… That's the worst part, honestly. Not the money. Not the failure. The thought of looking him in the eye and seeing that smug expression. That 'I told you so' face he's been waiting years to make."

"Would you go back? To your family?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably." You shrug. "Or maybe I'd just do what rich guys who lose everything always do in this situation." Jimin's head snaps toward you. Her eyes narrow. "I'm kidding," you say quickly. "That was a joke. Dark humor. Bad timing." She keeps staring at you. "Mostly kidding," you murmur under your breath.

"That's not funny."

"I know. Sorry." You clear your throat. "Okay, real answer. Plan B. If everything falls apart and I can't face my father and I don't want to do anything... dramatic. I move into this house permanently. Live off the land. Become one with nature."

Jimin's expression shifts from concern to skepticism. "You?"

"Me."

"Living off nature?"

"Why not?"

"You don't seem like the type who could survive out here for more than a week. You probably don't even know how to start a fire without a lighter."

"I absolutely do. I watched a YouTube video once. Have you seen that movie? Into the Wild? About a guy who gives up everything and goes to live in the wilderness. That could be me. I'm basically the same. Trust fund baby, disillusioned with society, seeking meaning in the natural world."

"Didn't he die at the end?"

"Yeah, but that's not the point."

Jimin snorts. "I think that's exactly the point."

"The point is that I would adapt. I'm very adaptable. Give me a few months out here and I'd be hunting my own food, building my own shelter, communing with the wildlife." You gesture grandly at the surrounding forest. "In a few years, I'd be able to take on a bear. Hand-to-hand combat. Mano a mano."

"You'd be mincemeat," Jimin says flatly. "A bear would destroy you in about three seconds."

"Three seconds is a bit of an exaggeration."

"It's realistic. You'd see a bear up close and you'd wet your pants before it even touched you."

"Excuse me?” Resting your palm over your heart, you arch an offended brow. “You clearly don't know who you're talking to. I'm incredibly brave. Fearless, even. Ask anyone."

"I'm asking you, and you're lying."

"I am not lying. I have faced many dangerous situations in my life and emerged victorious every single time."

Jimin rolls her eyes. "Name one."

"I once killed a spider in my apartment that was the size of my hand."

"That doesn't count."

"It absolutely counts. That spider was a monster. It looked at me with malice in its eyes. I had to use a shoe and everything."

"You're proving my point."

"I am not. The point is that when properly prepared, mentally and physically, there is no animal on this earth that could scare me. I am a fortress of courage. An unshakeable pillar of—"

Something leaps out of the underbrush. It happens fast. A blur of movement, a flash of wet green, something small and quick launching itself toward your legs. You scream. It's high-pitched and utterly devoid of the courage you were just bragging about. Your body reacts before your brain can catch up, jerking backward, feet scrambling for purchase on the muddy path. Your left foot slides. Your right foot tries to compensate. Neither succeeds. You go down hard, ass-first into the mud with a wet, squelching thud.

The frog that caused this catastrophe hops away into the grass, completely unbothered. For a moment, you just sit there. Stunned. Covered in mud from the waist down, rain pouring onto your face, trying to process what just happened. Then Jimin starts laughing.

Not a polite chuckle. Not a restrained giggle. Full-body, doubled-over, tears-streaming laughter that shakes her entire frame. She's pointing at you, like a child who just witnessed the funniest thing in the history of comedy. "I was caught off guard, by the way," you say, trying to salvage some shred of dignity. "That's not fair. That doesn't count." She laughs harder, completely at your expense. “It could have been anything. A snake. A raccoon. A small bear." Jimin is wheezing now, bent over with her hands on her knees, struggling to breathe through the laughter. "This is a serious situation. I could have been badly hurt. I could have broken a leg. An arm. My spine.”

"Your face," she gasps out between laughs. "You should have seen your face."

"What about my face?"

"The fear." She straightens up slightly, mimics an exaggerated expression of horror. "Like you'd seen death itself."

"It was a large frog."

"It was a tiny frog."

"Size is relative." She dissolves into laughter again. You sit there in the mud, rain soaking through the seat of your pants, watching Yu Jimin, Karina of aespa, international superstar, laugh at you like you're the funniest thing she's ever seen. You should be annoyed. But you're smiling. You can't help it. Because she looks alive right now, alive in a way she hasn't since you met her."This is incredibly rude," you say. "I'm injured and traumatized and you're mocking me in Dolby Atmos. You're creating psychological damage in real time. Karina, my favorite idol, the woman I have supported since debut, is actively ridiculing me in my moment of weakness."

"I'm sorry," she says, still laughing. "I'm so sorry, it's just—it was so funny—you screamed like—"

"I did not scream."

"You absolutely screamed."

"I'm filing a complaint with your company."

She wipes tears from her eyes, still grinning. "I really am sorry. But I can't stop picturing it. The frog jumping and you just—" She mimes falling backward, makes a ridiculous sound effect.

"Are you done?" you ask. "Are you finished mocking me? Because I'm sitting in a puddle of mud and my dignity is hanging by a thread."

"I'm done." She takes a breath, tries to compose herself. "I'm done. I promise."

"Good." You extend your hand toward her. "Help me up." Jimin steps closer, reaching down. Her fingers wrap around yours.

You pull.

She yelps as her feet slide out from under her, balance completely gone, and then she's falling, landing in the mud beside you with a splat that sends brown water splattering across both of you. For a moment, she just stares at you. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Absolutely covered in mud.

You grin. “Guess the fun’s over, huh?”

"You did not just do that."

"I absolutely did."

"I was trying to help you!"

"Never trust strangers, that’s what they say.”

A slow narrowing of her eyes pins you in place; Okay, maybe you made a big mistake. "You shouldn't have done that," she says quietly.

"What are you going to—"

A handful of mud hits you square in the face. You sputter. Spit out grit. Wipe your eyes.

Jimin is already scooping up another handful, a wicked smile spreading across her face. "Oh no," you say. "No no no. You should not have done that. You have no idea what you've just started." You grab your own handful of mud. Cold and wet and absolutely disgusting. "This is war," you declare.

"Bring it on." She throws. You dodge (mostly). You throw back. She shrieks and retaliates.

And suddenly you're both scrambling in the mud, slipping and sliding and hurling handfuls of wet earth at each other like children. Jimin gets you in the chest. You get her in the shoulder. She tries to run and falls again, and you try to capitalize on her weakness but slip and go down beside her. You're laughing. She's laughing. The rain keeps falling and the mud keeps flying and somewhere in the chaos you lose track of who's winning because it doesn't matter anymore.

Jimin smears mud across your cheek with her palm. You retaliate by dumping a handful directly on top of her head. She gasps in outrage and tackles you, both of you rolling in the mud until you're completely unrecognizable, two brown figures wrestling on the shore of a grey lake while the storm rages overhead.

—

The towel is damp and your hair is still dripping slightly when you emerge from your bedroom, but you've given up on achieving actual dryness. Some battles aren't worth fighting. You're wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. Jimin is in the living room. She's standing by the couch with her own towel draped around her shoulders, running her fingers through wet hair that hangs in dark strands past her collarbone. She's changed into leggings and an oversized sweater. "That was a terrible idea," you say.

She looks up. Nods emphatically. "The worst idea. I spent thirty minutes in the shower trying to get mud out of places mud should never be."

"I found some in my ear. My ear. How does that even happen?"

"You fell face-first into a puddle at one point."

"I was pushed."

"You tripped over your own feet."

"Semantics." You toss your towel over the back of a chair and stretch your arms above your head, feeling your spine pop. "At least we've upgraded our immune systems. All that bacteria exposure has to be good for something."

"That's not how immune systems work."

"Are you a doctor?"

"No."

"Then how would you know?" Jimin rolls her eyes. She finishes squeezing water from her hair and drapes her own towel beside yours. "Are you hungry?" you ask.

"Starving."

"Great. Let's cook something." You head toward the kitchen with purpose, like a man who knows what he's doing. You do not, in fact, know what you're doing. The kitchen is a foreign country and you are an undocumented immigrant with no language skills. Jimin follows you, watching as you open the refrigerator and stare at its contents like they might spontaneously arrange themselves into a meal.

"What are you thinking?" she asks. "Pasta? Stir fry? There's chicken in there, we could do something with that."

"Yes," you say. "One of those. Whichever one requires the least... cooking."

She tilts her head. "Have you ever cooked before?"

"Define 'cooked.'"

"Prepared food using heat and ingredients."

"Then no."

Jimin stares at you. "You've never cooked anything? Ever? In your entire life?"

"I've made toast. Does that count?"

"Toast is not cooking."

"It involves heat. And bread. That's basically the same thing."

"It's really not." She moves past you, gently but firmly shouldering you aside to access the refrigerator. "Okay. I'll cook. You just... stay out of the way."

"I can help."

"No."

"I'm very capable. I run a company. I manage hundreds of employees."

"Can any of those skills fry an egg?"

"I could learn."

"Not tonight." She pulls out chicken, vegetables, a carton of eggs, various bottles and containers whose purposes you can only guess at. "Tonight you sit over there and let me handle this."

You retreat to the kitchen island, hoisting yourself onto one of the stools. "This feels emasculating."

"Good."

"What if I just hand you things? I can be your sous chef. I saw that on a cooking show once."

"You don't know what anything is called."

"I know some things. That's a pan." You point. "That's a spatula. That's..." You squint at a utensil she's holding. "Some kind of... stabbing implement?"

"It's a whisk."

"I was close."

Jimin sets the whisk down and begins organizing ingredients on the counter with efficiency. You watch her work, the way her hands move with confidence, the way she seems to know instinctively where everything should go. "Where did you learn to cook?" you ask.

"My mom. And necessity." She cracks eggs into a bowl, one-handed, smooth. "When I was a trainee, we didn't have money for delivery every night. If you wanted to eat something that wasn't instant ramen, you had to make it yourself."

"That sounds rough."

"It was fine. I like cooking, actually. It's relaxing." She glances at you. "When I'm not being watched by someone who doesn't know what a whisk is."

"I know what a whisk is now. You just told me."

"Do you want to try?"

"Try what?"

She holds out the whisk. "Beating the eggs. It's simple. Even you can't mess it up." You slide off the stool and take the whisk from her hand. The bowl of cracked eggs sits on the counter, yellow yolks floating in clear viscous liquid. You stick the whisk in and start moving it around. "Not like that," Jimin says immediately.

"What's wrong with this?"

"You're stirring. You need to beat. Like this." She steps closer, her hand closing over yours on the whisk handle. Her fingers are warm. "Faster. In a circular motion. You're incorporating air, not just mixing." You try to follow her guidance. The eggs slosh around in the bowl, looking more or less the same as before. "You're hopeless," she says, but she's smiling.

"I told you. I'm a businessman, not a chef."

"Most businessmen can still feed themselves."

"You’re so cruel sometimes."

She takes the whisk back, bumping you out of the way with her hip. "Go sit down. You're a hazard."

You return to your stool, watching as she takes over the egg-beating with movements that are quick and sure. Within seconds, the eggs are transformed into a uniform yellow mixture. "Show-off," you mutter.

"Competence isn't showing off."

"It is when you do it that fast."

The cooking continues. Jimin moves around the kitchen like she owns it, heating pans, chopping vegetables, seasoning things with pinches of this and dashes of that. You try to help twice more. The first time, you're assigned to wash vegetables and somehow manage to spray water all over the counter and yourself. The second time, you're asked to stir something on the stove and immediately turn the heat up too high, nearly burning the contents. "Out," Jimin says after the second incident. "Get out of my kitchen."

"Hey, it's technically my kitchen."

"Not anymore. I'm annexing it. This is my territory now."

You raise your hands in surrender and retreat to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. The rain continues outside while the house feels warm and enclosed. Forty minutes later, Jimin emerges with two plates. Some kind of rice dish with vegetables and chicken, topped with a fried egg. It smells incredible.

"This looks amazing," you say, accepting your plate.

"Don't sound so surprised."

"I'm not surprised. I'm impressed." You eat on the couch, plates balanced on your laps, the rain providing ambient soundtrack. The food is good. Really good. Possibly the best thing you've eaten in weeks, though that might be the hunger talking. "This is incredible," you say around a mouthful.

"Chew first. Compliment later."

"I can do both."

Jimin snorts and focuses on her own plate. After dinner (you handle dishes, since it's the one task you can manage without supervision), the evening stretches out ahead with nothing particular to fill it. The storm shows no signs of stopping. Your MacBook sits on the coffee table where you left it earlier, the screen dark, full of emails you don't want to read and spreadsheets you don't want to look at.

"Movie?" you suggest.

"Sure."

You scroll through the streaming options, arguing amiably about genres (she wants something light; you suggest a psychological thriller just to see her reaction) before settling on a comedy neither of you has seen. It's mediocre. You spend half of it making sarcastic commentary and the other half distracted by work, pulling the MacBook onto your lap to respond to emails that can't wait while Jimin curls up on the other end of the couch with a blanket she found in the closet. At some point, you look up from a particularly frustrating spreadsheet and realize two hours have passed. The movie is over. The credits are rolling. Jimin is fighting to keep her eyes open, head tilting dangerously toward the armrest.

"Hey." You close the laptop. "Bedtime."

She blinks. Straightens. "I wasn't sleeping."

"You were about to."

"I was resting my eyes."

"Sure." You both stand. Stretch. The house has grown quiet around you, just the rain and the occasional creak of old wood settling. The hallway to the bedrooms is dim, lit only by the light spilling from the living room behind you. You stop at your door. She stops at hers. Directly across the hall, maybe six feet apart. "I should warn you," you say, keeping your expression completely neutral. "There was a murder in this house."

Jimin's hand freezes on her door handle. "What?"

"Years ago. A whole family. They say the killer was never caught."

Her eyes narrow. "You're lying."

"I'm completely serious. So if you hear footsteps in the night, or see shadows moving, or feel something cold touch your shoulder while you're sleeping..."

"Stop."

"Just stay in your room. Don't investigate. That's how people die in horror movies. They hear a noise and they go toward it instead of away from it."

Jimin points at you. "If I can't sleep tonight because of this, I'm blaming you."

"Blame me all you want. I'll be in my room. Behind a locked door. Safe from the vengeful spirits that roam these halls."

"There are no vengeful spirits."

"That's what they want you to think."

She opens her door, shaking her head. "You're the worst."

"I know." You lean against your own doorframe. "Hey. Jimin." She pauses. Looks back at you. "I'm happy you're here," you say. "Today was strange. And wet. And I'm probably going to find mud in weird places for the next week. But it was also... nice. Really nice."

"Yeah," she says quietly. "It was."

"So. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

You both just stand there for a second. Across the hall from each other, maybe six feet of space that feels like more. Neither of you moves. Then you step inside. Close the door. Lean back against it and just... breathe. The room's dark. Quiet. Empty. And you're thinking about today. About laughter and mud flying everywhere and screaming at a fucking lake until your throat hurt. About all of it.

You fall asleep easier than you have in months. No nightmares about board meetings or bankruptcy or watching everything crumble. Just sleep. Real sleep.

—

Morning takes its sweet time arriving, dragging itself through that grey half-light that seeps past the curtains. The rain's still going. Actually, scratch that, it's gotten worse overnight, upgraded from steady downpour to something that sounds like the lake house is under siege. The idea of leaving this bed, of exposing yourself to the cold air outside these blankets? That's asking a lot. That's asking for genuine courage. You stay put for a while. Just lying there with eyes tracing invisible patterns on the ceiling, letting the sound of the storm fill the space where thoughts should be.

Eventually, hunger wins out over laziness.

The kitchen smells like coffee when you shuffle in, still wearing the sweatpants and hoodie you slept in. Jimin is already there, perched on one of the stools at the island, both hands wrapped around a steaming mug. She's cocooned in blankets, layers of them draped over her shoulders and pooling around her on the stool, so only her face and fingers are visible. She looks ridiculous. She looks cozy. She looks unfairly cute for someone who's essentially transformed herself into a human burrito.

You grab a mug from the cabinet, pour yourself coffee from the pot she's already made, and lean against the counter. "Good morning."

"Morning." Her response is muffled, half-swallowed by a yawn.

"How'd you sleep?"

She takes a sip of coffee. Doesn't meet your eyes. "Not great."

Guilt flickers through you. "Look, I'm sorry about the murderer thing. I was just messing around. I didn't think it would actually keep you up."

"It wasn't that."

"No?"

"No."

You wait for her to elaborate. She doesn't. "Okay," you say, letting it go. Pushing won't help. You've learned that much about her in the short time you've known each other. "So what do you want to do today? I was thinking we could walk through the woods when the rain lets up. There are some trails behind the house that go pretty deep."

Jimin nods slowly. "That sounds good."

"Cool." You take a long drink of coffee, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. "What do you want for breakfast?"

She looks up at you. "You're not cooking."

"I could try."

"You'd burn the house down."

"That's a slight exaggeration."

"Is it? You almost set fire to the stove last night stirring vegetables."

"That was a learning experience."

"For everyone involved." She slides off the stool, blankets still wrapped around her like a cape, and starts moving toward the refrigerator. "I'll cook. Just tell me what you want."

"You don't have to. I can figure something out. There's probably cereal or something."

Jimin fixes you with a look. "If I don't cook for you, you'll starve. You literally cannot feed yourself. I've seen the evidence."

There's no arguing with that. You sigh. "Fine. Eggs? And toast. Whatever's easiest."

"Eggs and toast it is." She cooks. You stay out of her way, nursing your coffee and watching from a safe distance. The kitchen fills with the smell of butter and browning bread, domestic and warm, and you think about how strange this is. How comfortable. How much it feels like something that's been happening for years instead of hours. After breakfast, you head to the bathroom to clean up. You're standing at the sink, face covered in shaving foam, razor in hand, when Jimin appears in the doorway.

"I found new raincoats," she says, holding up two plastic-wrapped packages. "These ones actually look like they might fit. They were in the hall closet, buried under a bunch of—" She stops. Stares at your face. "You look like Santa Claus."

You glance at yourself in the mirror. The white foam does cover most of your lower face, spreading from cheek to cheek and down your neck. "Ho ho ho."

"That's disturbing. Never do that again."

"What, shave? I'll just grow a beard. Become a mountain man. Really commit to the living-off-the-land thing."

"Please don't." She steps into the bathroom, setting the raincoats on the counter. "Do you want help?"

You pause mid-stroke. "With shaving?"

"There are spots you can't see. The angle's weird." She holds out her hand. "Give me the razor."

"Have you ever done this before?"

"No."

"That's incredibly reassuring. Thank you. I feel very safe."

"Shut up and give me the razor." You hand it over. She moves closer, positioning herself in front of you, one hand coming up to tilt your chin toward the light. "Stay still," she instructs.

"If you cut my throat, I'm going to haunt you forever."

"Then don't move and you'll be fine." She brings the razor to your cheek. Draws it down in a slow, careful stroke, leaving smooth skin in its wake. Rinses the blade. Repeats. You hold very still.

It's strange, having someone this close to your face. Strange having someone else's hands on you like this, performing such an ordinary task with such focused attention. Jimin's brow is furrowed in concentration, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she navigates the curve of your jaw. "Tilt your head back," she says softly. You comply. She works on your neck, the blade gliding over your Adam's apple, and you're acutely aware of how much trust this requires. How vulnerable you are right now. One wrong move and she could open your jugular.

She doesn't make any wrong moves. "Turn this way." She guides your chin to the left. "I'm getting the sideburns."

"I didn't ask for sideburn maintenance."

"You're getting it anyway. They were uneven."

"They were not."

"They absolutely were. The left one was at least a centimeter longer than the right. It was bothering me."

"You were analyzing my sideburns?"

"I was trying not to stare at the Santa Claus foam beard. The sideburns were the only safe place to look." She finishes the left side, moves to the right. Her face is very close to yours now, close enough that you can see the faint freckle near her left eyebrow. "There." She steps back, surveying her work. "Done."

You turn to the mirror. Your face is smooth, cleanly shaved, better than you usually manage on your own. She got the spots you always miss, the tricky angles under your jaw, the patch near your ear that always gives you trouble. "Not bad," you admit.

"Not bad? That's perfect. I should quit being an idol and become a barber."

"The pay's probably worse."

"But the hours are better."

You splash water on your face, rinse away the last traces of foam. When you straighten up, Jimin is still there, watching you in the mirror. It's the most intimate thing you've experienced in a long time. A girl shaving your face. It shouldn't feel like much. But it does. "Thanks," you say.

She smiles. Just a little. "You're welcome."

The rain tapers off around noon, fading from downpour to drizzle to a fine mist. Good enough. You grab a small backpack from the hall closet, throw in a flashlight (the woods get dark even on bright days, and today is anything but), some bottles of water and some food (snacks). Jimin wears one of the new raincoats, forest green this time, properly fitted. You take the other one, navy blue.

The trail starts behind the house, a narrow dirt path that winds into the trees. Your footsteps are muffled by fallen leaves, soft sounds that disappear into the vastness of the forest. For a while, neither of you speaks. Just walks. The silence is comfortable, companionable, broken only by birdsong and the drip of water from branches overhead. "This is absurd," you say eventually.

Jimin glances at you. "What is?"

"This. Us. Two strangers walking through a forest in the middle of nowhere. Alone. And it feels... normal. Like we've been doing this for years."

She's quiet for a moment. Considering. "I feel really comfortable," she admits. "Being here. With you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She steps over a fallen branch, her raincoat rustling. "You don't ask questions."

"I ask plenty of questions."

"Not the ones I don't want to answer." She looks at you sideways. "I like that about you. You let me have my silence. You don't push."

"I push sometimes."

"Not really. Not about the important things." She pulls her hood up against the mist. "Most people, when they find out someone's struggling, they want to fix it. They want to give advice, offer solutions, tell you it's going to be okay. They mean well, but it's exhausting. It makes you feel like your pain is a problem to be solved instead of just... experienced."

You nod slowly. "I get that."

"Do you?"

"Yeah." You kick a pinecone off the trail, watch it roll into the underbrush. "I understand you completely. We're alike, you and me."

Jimin raises an eyebrow. "We're nothing alike."

"We're very alike. I don't have hair as beautiful as yours, obviously. That's unfair. Genetics failed me there. But inside..." You tap your chest. "In here. We're similar. Same kind of broken. Same kind of lost."

She doesn't respond immediately. The trail curves ahead, winding between two massive oaks whose branches interlock overhead like fingers. "You say you know what I'm going through," she says finally. "How? How could you know?"

"Because I've seen it before."

"Seen what?"

"Someone losing themselves. Forgetting who they are underneath everything else. Getting so caught up in what everyone expects them to be that they can't remember what they actually want."

Jimin stops walking. Turns to face you fully. "Who? Who did you see that with?"

You study her face. The curiosity there, the hunger for understanding. She wants to know. Needs to know, maybe, because she's hoping your answer will tell her something about herself.

You smile. "I'll answer that."

"Okay."

"If you can catch me."

Her expression shifts. Confusion first, then realization. "What do you mean?"

You point ahead, where the trail opens into a small clearing and, beyond it, the dark mouth of a cave carved into a rocky hillside. "There's a cave over there. If you get there before me, I'll tell you everything."

"That's not fair. You have longer legs."

"Then you'd better start running." You take off down the trail.

"Wait!" Jimin shouts. "That's cheating! You didn't even count down!"

You don't wait. You just bolt.

Behind you, Jimin curses, and then you hear her footsteps pounding after you. She's fast. Way faster than you expected for someone having an existential crisis. The forest blurs into streaks of green, brown and grey, mist hitting your face, and you're laughing. Actually fucking laughing, breathless and stupid, running through the woods like you're ten years old again.

She's gaining on you. You can hear her breathing, hear her laughing too. "I'm catching you!" she yells. "And then you're telling me everything!"

"Gotta earn it first!"

The cave's getting closer. Trees thinning out. Your legs are burning but you push harder.

You run. Then a duck happens. A goddamn duck.

It explodes out of the bushes with this aggressive-ass quack, wings flapping everywhere, and you stumble sideways. Your foot catches a root. Your momentum dies instantly. By the time you catch yourself, Jimin's already blown past you at a speed that would make Olympic sprinters jealous.

She touches the rock face with her palm, spins around, and throws her arms up in victory. "I won!"

You stagger up behind her, hands on your knees, gasping for air. "That doesn't count. There was a duck."

"A duck?"

"It attacked me."

"It quacked at you. From ten feet away."

"Aggressively. It quacked aggressively." You straighten up, pressing a hand to your side where a stitch is forming. “You’d be surprised how many people get killed by ducks every year. Absolute menaces. Anyway, I demand a rematch."

"No way. I won fair and square." She's breathing hard too, cheeks flushed from the run. "You owe me answers now."

"Fine." You gesture toward the cave mouth: a dark opening in the hillside about eight feet wide and maybe six feet tall. "But let's go inside first. I want to show you something." You click on the flashlight and lead the way in. The cave isn't deep, maybe thirty feet before it narrows to nothing, but the ceiling is high enough to stand comfortably, and the walls are dry despite the rain outside. "I used to play here with my cousins," you say, sweeping the flashlight beam across the walls. "When we were kids. We'd pretend it was a fortress. A pirate hideout. A secret base for our spy operations."

The light catches something on the far wall. Scribbles. Crude drawings scratched into the rock with sharp stones. Stick figures with oversized heads. A wobbly boat on wavy lines that might be water. Names and initials surrounded by hearts, the kind of thing kids carve when they're young enough to think love is simple.

"Cave paintings," Jimin says softly.

"Our contribution to human artistic history." You trace the flashlight over a terrible rendition of what might be a dog or possibly a horse. "I made that one. I was seven. I thought it was a masterpiece."

"What is it supposed to be?"

"A dragon."

She squints at it. "I don't see it."

"Yeah, nobody ever did."

You set the backpack down near the wall and lower yourself to the ground, your back against the stone. The floor is cold through your pants, but not unbearably so. You unzip the bag and start pulling out its contents. Snacks. Lots of them. Chips in various flavors, chocolate bars, gummy candies, dried fruit, the honey butter cookies she mentioned loving during some variety show you watched. You spread them out between you like a picnic.

Jimin settles down across from you, cross-legged, eyes widening as she takes in the selection. "You packed all of this?"

"I figured we might get hungry."

"These are all my favorites."

"Are they? Weird coincidence."

She gives you a look that says she knows exactly what you did, but she doesn't call you out on it. Just reaches for the honey butter cookies and tears open the package. "Okay," she says, chewing. "I won. Tell me everything."

You pick up a chocolate bar. Unwrap it slowly. Take a bite, letting the silence stretch.

"You've been an idol since you were young," you say. "Trainee years, debut, all of it. You were, what, sixteen when you started? Seventeen?"

"Around there."

"No one that young is prepared for what you went through. What you're still going through." You break off another piece of chocolate. "I'm not saying this to be mean. I'm saying it because it's true. If I had been in your position at that age, I would have cracked a lot sooner than you did. The routine. The pressure. The cameras, the fans, the expectations. And on top of all that, there's this persona you have to maintain. Karina. This perfect, polished version of yourself that exists for public consumption. But that's not really you, is it? That's a character. A role you play." She's very still now. The cookie in her hand forgotten. "And then there's Jimin. The real you. The person underneath the makeup and the choreography and the carefully managed public image. The girl who likes honey butter cookies and doesn't know how to fish and laughs until she cries when someone falls in mud."

A tiny smile flickers at the corner of her mouth. Gone almost immediately.

"The problem is, you have to switch between them constantly. Jimin at home, Karina on stage, Jimin with friends, Karina in interviews. Back and forth, over and over, every single day. And I can imagine..." You pause, choosing your words carefully. "I can imagine there comes a point where the switching gets exhausting. Where it starts to feel pointless. Why bother going back to being Jimin if tomorrow you'll just have to be Karina again? Why not just stay Karina all the time? It's easier. It's simpler. It's what everyone wants anyway." Jimin's hands have tightened around the cookie package. The plastic crinkles. "So you do that. You stay Karina. For days, weeks, months. You let Jimin fade into the background because it's just too hard to keep pulling her back. And then one day, you need her. Something happens and you need to be yourself, really yourself, and you reach for Jimin and she's not there." You meet her eyes. "You can't find your way back. You look in the mirror and you don't recognize the person staring at you. You don't know who you are anymore. What you want. What you're supposed to be."

"How do you know all that?" Jimin whispers.

"Because I've been there. I've watched it happen." You take another bite of chocolate, chew slowly. "To myself."

"You?"

"Me. Different circumstances, same result." You lean your head back against the stone. "My job requires me to be someone I'm not. All the time. I deal with people I can't stand, people who are shallow and greedy and only care about money. And I smile at them. I shake their hands, I laugh at their jokes, I pretend to be one of them because that's what the job demands. That's how you survive in my world."

"That sounds awful."

"It is. But I got good at it. Too good. I wore the mask so often that I forgot what my real face looked like underneath." You pause. "There was a period, maybe two years ago, where I genuinely couldn't tell the difference anymore. Between the person I was pretending to be and the person I actually was. I'd lost myself completely. But that's what I am… Underneath all the pretending. I'm just a guy who likes going into caves to eat snacks with strangers." You gesture at the space around you, at her. "A stranger who happens to be the it girl of Korea. Which is kind of surreal, honestly. But here we are."

You reach over and tap her shoulder gently with your knuckles.

"You'll find your way back to who you are. I know you will. But here's the thing." You hold her gaze. "You're the one who creates it. You're the one who decides who Jimin is. Not SM, not the fans, not the media. You. And if you don't know who that is right now, that's okay. You get to figure it out. You get to make it up as you go."

"How?" She asks with evident desperation. "I'm so lost. Every day I feel less and less like a real person. Like I'm fading away and no one notices because Karina is still there, performing, smiling, doing all the things she's supposed to do. But inside there's just... nothing."

"Then start with nothing." You open a bag of jelly beans and offer it to her. "What do you want right now? In this exact moment?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to be on stage?"

"No."

"Do you want to be in Seoul?"

"No."

"Do you want to be anywhere other than this cave, eating snacks with a guy you barely know?"

She hesitates. Thinks about it. "No."

"Then you already have what you want. Right now, in this moment, you want nothing. You want to just... exist. Without expectations. Without pressure. And look." You spread your arms. "You're in a cave in the middle of nowhere. That's pretty close to nothing. That's about as far from Karina as you can get." She takes a jelly bean. Red one. Pops it in her mouth. "Tomorrow you might want something different," you continue. "The day after that, something else. And that's fine. That's how it's supposed to work. You don't have to figure out your entire identity in one afternoon. You just have to find the will to keep looking. To keep hoping that the pieces will eventually fit together." You shrug. "That's how we survive. One day at a time. One want at a time."

Jimin chews slowly. Swallows. Reaches for another jelly bean.

"But here's the important part," you say, and your tone shifts, becomes more serious. "Don't go alone. You have people who love you. Family, friends, the other members. People who care about Jimin, not just Karina. Let them help you."

"They wouldn't understand."

"Maybe not perfectly. But they'd try." You pause. "And if you really can't bring yourself to turn to them, then turn to me. I'm just a stranger. A shadow that passed through your life at some random point. Sometimes that's all we need. Someone with no expectations, no history, no stake in who you're supposed to be."

She looks at you. "A shadow?"

"Yeah." You pick at the wrapper of your chocolate bar. "That's what I am. Empty. No form of my own. I just darken the people around me. Cast gloom wherever I go."

"That's not true."

"It's a little true. Ask anyone who works for me." You smile, but it's thin. "But with you... I want to be different. I want to be the kind of shadow you can hide behind. A place where nothing can reach you. Where no one can touch you or demand anything from you." You meet her eyes. "For as long as you want. However long you need. You can stay hidden behind me, and I'll keep everything else out."

Jimin doesn't say anything for a long time. Processing. You let her have that moment. Until finally she asks: "What am I to you? If you're a shadow, what does that make me?"

You think about it. The question deserves a real answer.

"The moon," you say.

"The moon?"

"Right now, you feel distant. Untouchable. Like you're a million miles away from everyone, even from yourself. And maybe you feel like your light has gone out. Like whatever used to make you shine has faded. But you're still shining. Even if you don't realize it. It's softer now, yeah. Quieter. But it's there. I can see it." You gesture at her. "And I like it. I like this glow better, honestly. It's not blinding. It's not overwhelming. It's the kind of light that enhances things. That makes the darkness easier to bear... The night we met, you were like a girl sitting on the moon. So far away. So alone. But even then, you were beautiful. Even crying on that bench, you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen." You laugh quietly. "And after that, I went back to that same bench every night for a week. Just sat there by myself, hoping you'd appear again. Like a complete idiot."

When you look at Jimin, there are tears in her eyes. "Hey." You lean forward, concerned. "Are you okay? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry, I talk too much when I'm nervous, I didn't mean to—"

"How can you be so stupid and so intelligent at the same time?" she interrupts.

You pause. "I... don't know if I should be flattered or offended by that."

"Both." A tear spills over, tracking down her cheek. She wipes it away impatiently with the back of her hand. "Be both."

"Okay. I'll work on that."

She laughs, wet and shaky, and takes another handful of jelly beans. "Thank you. For saying all of that. I liked it. Even if it made me cry like an idiot."

"Crying doesn't make you an idiot. Punching mirrors makes you an idiot. You're fine." She laughs. A real one this time, not that sad half-laugh from before, and reaches for the honey butter cookies. So here's the thing about dumping all your feelings in a cave: afterward, it just gets quiet. Not weird quiet. Just regular quiet. You're sitting there with the flashlight between you, surrounded by empty chip bags and candy wrappers, staring at the dumb drawings you scratched into the rock as a kid. Neither of you says anything. Neither of you needs to.

But you can't sit here forever. At some point, you start cleaning up. Grabbing wrappers, shoving empty bags into the backpack. You're kind of obsessive about it, actually - checking every corner, making sure you get every piece of trash, every crumb.

"You're very thorough," Jimin observes, watching you hunt down a stray chocolate wrapper that's trying to escape into a crevice.

"Mother Nature and I have an understanding. I don't pollute her forests, she doesn't send bears to maul me in my sleep."

"I don't think that's how ecology works."

"I prefer not to test the theory."

The backpack zipped, you stand and stretch, feeling your spine crack in several places that probably shouldn't crack. The cave has gotten colder, or maybe you've just noticed it now that you're not distracted by existential conversations about identity and moonlight. "We should head back," you say. "I fancy some hot chocolate."

Jimin rises to her feet, brushing dirt from her raincoat. "By that, you mean you want me to make you hot chocolate."

"What? No. I can make hot chocolate myself. I'm not completely helpless."

She tilts her head and studies you… Yeah, she's definitely reviewing the evidence of the past thirty-six hours. "I find myself unfortunately skeptical," she says.

The honest truth is that she's probably right. Hot chocolate involves heating milk, which involves using the stove, which involves not setting things on fire. Your track record in that department is not encouraging. "Well," you say, with as much dignity as you can muster, "perhaps I'll supervise while you demonstrate the proper technique."

"Supervise."

"Offer moral support. Quality control. That sort of thing."

The corner of her mouth twitches. She doesn't argue further. You're about to head toward the cave entrance when Jimin goes still. Her eyes fix on something just past your shoulder. Then she steps toward you. Close. Very close.

Your heart immediately races. Your brain, helpful as ever, immediately begins cataloguing the distance between your mouth and hers (approximately four inches), the angle of her face (tilted slightly upward), and the probable softness of her lips (considerable, based on visual evidence). She's going to kiss you, you think. Or possibly you're going to kiss her. Someone is going to kiss someone, that much seems certain, and you should probably—

Her hand reaches past your shoulder and taps you lightly on the back.

"Spider," she says.

You nearly leave your skin.

What emerges from your mouth is not a word, exactly. More of a strangled yelp. You jerk away from her, spinning around, your hands doing that frantic brushing motion that accomplishes nothing except making you look like you're having some sort of episode. "Where?! Where is it?! Is it on me?! Is it still on me?!"

"It's gone," she says, giggling. "I flicked it off. Relax, it was just a small one."

"Small spiders are the most dangerous ones. Everyone knows that. The smaller the spider, the more concentrated the venom."

"That's not scientifically accurate."

"I don't care about accuracy, I care about not dying."

She's properly laughing now, the same bright unrestrained sound you heard during the mud fight. It's a good sound. You'd be enjoying it more if you weren't still vibrating with residual panic. "You're like a frightened kitten," she says. "So tough about bears, but one tiny spider and you completely fall apart."

"I am not a frightened kitten. A spider the size of a frisbee would scare anyone."

"It was the size of my fingernail."

"Size is irrelevant. Deadliness is what matters."

She eyes you with amusement, smiling. "Why are you so red?"

Ah. Yes. That would be the blood that rushed to your face approximately thirty seconds ago when you thought you were about to be kissed. The blood that's still there, betraying you, making your cheeks feel like they're radiating heat. "Allergic reaction," you say immediately. "To the spider. My skin is extremely sensitive. Delicate, really. Like a Victorian-era duchess. I've always had this condition."

Jimin's eyebrow rises slowly. She doesn't look even slightly convinced. "A Victorian-era duchess, huh?"

"Yes. It's genetic." You rub your hands together, partly because they actually are cold and partly because you need something to do that isn't looking directly at her face while lying badly about the source of your blush. "It's colder than I expected," you say, desperate to change the subject. "I'm genuinely surprised neither of us got hypothermia yesterday. All that rolling around in the mud. Very irresponsible, in retrospect."

Jimin watches you fumble for another moment. Then, without ceremony, she reaches out and takes your hand. Her fingers interlock with yours. Palm to palm. A simple gesture, completely natural. At least, that’s how Jimin makes it look. "Come on," she says. "Let's go back. I'll warm your hand on the way." A pause. "No running this time."

What needs to be understood about this moment is that you are, fundamentally, not a person who holds hands. You're not a person who does casual physical intimacy. In your experience, touch is either transactional (handshakes, back-pats) or romantic (which requires intention and buildup and usually alcohol). This middle ground, this easy, uncomplicated contact, is foreign territory.

And yet… "Okay," you murmur.

Her hand is small in yours. Delicate in a way that makes you hyperaware of your own roughness, the calluses on your palm from gym equipment you barely use anymore, the healing scars across your knuckles from your ill-advised confrontation with interior glass. Her fingers are cool at first, but they warm quickly, or maybe your hand warms them, or maybe the warmth is coming from somewhere else entirely. You walk out of the cave together. The rain has stopped completely now, leaving the forest dripping and fresh, every surface gleaming with moisture. The path back to the house stretches through the trees, dappled with grey light, and you follow it slowly. No running. No racing. Just walking, side by side, hands clasped between you.

Neither of you says much. There's nothing that needs saying.

—

Later that night, the house has settled into that particular brand of quiet that only exists in remote places. No traffic noise, no neighbours, no ambient hum of civilization. Just the creak of old wood, the whisper of wind against windows, and the distant rumble of thunder from a storm that's circling somewhere beyond the mountains. Jimin is yawning in the hallway, dressed in pajamas that are somehow both sensible and unfairly attractive. Soft cotton, pale blue, slightly too long in the sleeves. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, still slightly damp from whatever evening routine she's completed, and she looks like someone who's ready to surrender to unconsciousness.

"Goodnight," she says, her hand on her bedroom door.

"Goodnight," you reply.

She opens the door. Steps inside. You follow her. She turns, eyebrow rising in that way you're beginning to recognize as her default expression of mild incredulity. "What are you doing?"

"Coming in."

"I can see that. Why?"

You move past her into the room, which is tidier than you expected. Her suitcase sits in the corner, mostly unpacked. A sweater draped over the chair. The bed turned down, waiting.

"I thought I'd keep you company," you say. "Until you fall asleep."

"I'm not a child."

"I never said you were."

"Then why do you think I need someone to tuck me in?"

You're not looking at her. You're scanning the bookshelf built into the wall near the window, running your fingers along spines that haven't been touched in years. Children's books, mostly. Relics from a time when this room hosted cousins and nieces and nephews, when the house was full of noise and laughter instead of dust and silence. "You said you didn't sleep well last night," you say, still searching. "And you wouldn't tell me why." Jimin is silent. "I'm not asking you to tell me now, either. But I thought..." You find what you're looking for and pull it from the shelf. "I thought this might help."

She stares at the book in your hands. It's thin, the cover worn soft with age, illustrated with a girl in a blue dress and three bears of varying sizes. "Goldilocks," she says flatly.

"A classic of Western literature."

"You want to read me Goldilocks."

"My grandmother used to read it to me when I was small. When I couldn't sleep. When things felt too big and too scary." You turn the book over in your hands, tracing the faded illustration on the back. "I'm not saying it'll work for you. But it can't hurt to try."

Thunder rumbles outside. The windows rattle faintly in their frames. "This is absurd," she says.

"Probably."

"You're going to sit there and read me a children's story."

"That's the plan."

"Like I'm five years old."

"I won't judge your age. I'm barely functional myself."

She hesitates for another moment. Then, with a sigh that suggests she's humoring you against her better judgment, she climbs into bed. The covers come up to her chin, white duvet swallowing her small frame. You settle onto the edge of the mattress, back against the headboard, book in hand. The lamp on the nightstand casts a warm circle of light, leaving the rest of the room in comfortable shadow.

"Once upon a time," you begin, "there was a little girl named Goldilocks."

"Original name."

"Hush. I'm reading." You clear your throat. "She went for a walk in the forest. Pretty soon, she came upon a house. She knocked and, when no one answered, she walked right in."

"Breaking and entering."

"It was a different time. Less security-conscious." You turn the page. "At the table in the kitchen, there were three bowls of porridge. Goldilocks was hungry. She tasted the porridge from the first bowl. 'This porridge is too hot!' she exclaimed." Jimin's eyes are on your face now, watching you read with an expression you can't quite decode. "So she tasted the porridge from the second bowl. 'This porridge is too cold,' she said. So she tasted the last bowl of porridge. 'Ahhh, this porridge is just right,' she said happily, and she ate it all up."

You pause. Lower the book slightly.

"Now, here's what I don't understand."

Jimin groans. "Oh no."

"Three bowls of porridge. Same batch, presumably. Made at the same time, served at the same table. How is it possible that one is too hot, one is too cold, and one is just right? They should all be the same temperature."

"It's a children's story."

"I understand that. But the physics don't make sense. Unless—" You hold up a finger. "Unless the bowls are made of different materials with different heat retention properties. Papa Bear's bowl is ceramic, holds heat longer. Mama Bear's bowl is metal, conducts heat away faster. Baby Bear's bowl is wood, perfect insulation."

"You're overthinking this."

You grin and continue reading. The three chairs, the three beds, Goldilocks's continued disregard for personal property. But you can't help yourself. Every few paragraphs, another observation emerges. "Why is Baby Bear's chair so small that it breaks under a child's weight? That's a safety hazard. Someone should report the manufacturer." Jimin pulls the covers over her face. "And another thing. The bears come home and immediately notice the porridge has been disturbed. But they don't smell a human intruder in their house? Bears have exceptional olfactory senses. They should have detected Goldilocks from the moment they walked through the door."

"Please stop."

"I'm just saying, the internal logic—"

"The internal logic is that it's a story for children who don't care about porridge thermodynamics or bear olfaction." Jimin pulls the covers down just enough to glare at you. "Just finish the story. Without commentary. I'm begging you."

"Fine," you say. "No more interruptions."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart." As promised, you finish the story without any more interruptions. Then you flip to a different book. Little Red Riding Hood. Another classic. "Once upon a time," you begin again, "there lived in a certain village a little country girl..."

This time, you don't interrupt. You read the story the way it's meant to be read, letting the words flow without commentary, without analysis. The girl in the red hood. The path through the woods. The wolf with his clever tongue and hungry eyes. The grandmother's cottage with its strange occupant in the bed.

What big eyes you have. What big ears you have. What big teeth you have.

Jimin's breathing slows. Her body relaxes into the mattress, tension bleeding out of her shoulders. Her eyes grow heavy, then heavier, then finally close. You finish the story anyway. The huntsman, the rescue, the happily ever after. You're not sure if she hears the ending or if she's already drifted too far into sleep to catch it.

You finish the story and close the book. Gentle, so you don't wake her. Set it on the nightstand.

You look at her face in the lamplight. She's out. Her face is completely relaxed. Peaceful. You haven't seen her look like this since you met her.

The rain keeps going outside, but she's dead to the world.

You reach over and turn off the lamp.

—

Morning arrives with the same grey light as yesterday. The same rain. The same cold. Not that you're complaining, really. You’re starting to get used to the place’s melancholic, desolate atmosphere. There’s a bleak, nihilistic charm to it that’s hard to ignore.

Jimin is in the living room when you emerge, curled into the corner of the sofa with a mug clasped between her palms. She's wrapped in that same blanket from yesterday.

You pour yourself coffee from the pot she's made. Take a sip. Let the warmth spread through your chest. "Good morning."

"Morning." She shifts slightly, making room on the sofa, though there's plenty of space already.

"How'd you sleep?" And here's where you expect the usual deflection. The vague answer, the change of subject, the careful maintenance of boundaries. But instead, Jimin tilts her head and actually considers the question.

"Well, actually," she says. "Really well. I didn't wake up exhausted for once."

You settle onto the opposite end of the sofa, mirroring her position. Feet tucked up, body angled toward the centre, a careful distance maintained between.

"The Goldilocks technique," you say. "Scientifically proven to induce restful sleep."

"Or the fact that you read it so slowly I passed out from boredom."

"My pacing was deliberate. It's called dramatic tension."

"It's called you don't know how to read without stopping to argue with the text." You concede the point with a shrug and drink more coffee. The rain continues its assault on the windows. Inside, the house feels warm and enclosed, a bubble of safety floating in an ocean of grey. The fire you lit last night has burned down to embers, casting a faint orange glow that doesn't quite reach the corners of the room.

"What's the situation with work?" Jimin asks, nodding toward the MacBook sitting closed on the coffee table.

You follow her gaze. The laptop looks deceptively innocent sitting there, like it isn't a portal to your slowly imploding professional life. "Still a mess," you say. "The numbers haven't magically improved overnight. The investors are still pulling out, you know, the usual." You take another sip of coffee. "But I've decided not to look at it until after the meeting. Whatever's going to happen is going to happen whether I obsess over spreadsheets or not."

"That's very zen of you."

"I'm trying something new. It's called 'strategic denial.'"

Jimin smiles into her mug. "What about today?" she asks. "Any plans?"

You consider the question. Outside, the rain shows no sign of letting up. The lake will be churning, the paths muddy, the woods unwelcoming. Not exactly ideal conditions for outdoor activities. "I wanted to make a campfire," you admit. "Roast some marshmallows. But in this weather… Not really feasible."

"Can you even make a campfire?"

"Theoretically. I understand the basic principles. Wood, fire, not dying."

"That's not very specific."

"I contain multitudes of vague competencies."

You shift position, tucking your feet further under you, and find yourself talking without quite meaning to. "Did you know I fell into a bonfire when I was a child?"

"My God. Where did this happen?"

"At a family gathering. I was maybe six or seven. Someone had built this big fire on the beach, and I was running around not paying attention, and I just..." You mime tripping. "Went right in. Second-degree burns on my hands and knees. My mother nearly had a heart attack."

"That's horrifying."

"It was mostly embarrassing, honestly. Everyone made a huge fuss, and I had to wear bandages for weeks, and my cousins called me 'fireball' for the rest of the summer.” You pause. “I also almost drowned once. At a pool party when I was twelve. Jumped into the deep end without knowing how to swim properly. Had to be rescued by a lifeguard in front of everyone." Jimin stares at you. "Sometimes I'm genuinely surprised I survived to adulthood. The odds were not in my favour."

She's looking at you weird. Or not weird, exactly, but you can't quite figure out what the expression is. Her eyes are bright, almost shiny, and there's this thing happening with her mouth. The corners are turning up.

She's smiling. And it's a smile you've never seen on her before.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you ask.

"Like what?"

"Like... that." You gesture at her face. "With the smiling."

"Am I not allowed to smile anymore?" She raises an eyebrow. "Does it bother you?"

"Yes, actually. A bit."

"My smile bothers you."

"I can't look at you when you're doing that." You find yourself staring at your coffee mug instead. "It's distracting. You're easier to deal with when you're crying. All pathetic, with snot coming out of your nose."

The pillow hits you square in the face. "I did not have snot coming out of my nose."

"You absolutely did." You catch the pillow before it can fall, hold it against your chest. "That first night, on the bench. There was definitely nasal discharge. Very attractive.”

"I'm going to kill you."

"See, this is what I mean. Murderous anger is much easier to handle than whatever that smile was."

She's moving before you realize what's happening. One moment she's at her end of the sofa, the next she's crossing the distance between you, blanket abandoned, and you don't know what she's going to do. Hit you, maybe. Smother you with another pillow, who knows.

But what Jimin does is completely different from what you might expect: her knees settle on either side of your hips, her hands bracing against your shoulders, and suddenly you're lying back against the sofa cushions with Yu Jimin straddling your body, looking down at you with an expression that's no longer angry at all.

"We don't have to do anything today," she says quietly. You open your mouth. Nothing comes out. Your hands hover uselessly in the air, unsure where to land, unsure what's allowed. "I just want to be with you," she continues. "Like this. Is that okay?"

And then she kisses you. The barest press of her lips against yours, tentative and questioning and achingly sweet. She tastes like coffee, and your hands finally find their place on her waist, settling against the curve of her body. The kiss ends. She pulls back just far enough to look at you with her hair falling around both your faces.

"You just kissed a stranger," you murmur.

"I know." She's smiling again, that same smile that you couldn't look at before, except now it's inches from your face and impossible to avoid. "It was very good."

She settles against you, her head finds the curve of your shoulder. Your arms wrap around her automatically, pulling her closer, and she makes a small sound of contentment. "You said I could hide behind you," she murmurs against your neck. "But I think I prefer this. Hiding in your arms."

"That works too."

You lie there together, tangled on the sofa, rain drumming against the windows, and for a long moment, neither of you speaks. There's nothing that needs saying. Just the warmth of her body, the rhythm of her breathing, the impossible fact of this moment existing at all. But the thought surfaces anyway. The one you've been pushing down since the cave, since the forest, since the moment she took your hand and started walking.

"You know none of this is real," you say quietly, and Jimin goes still against you. "You're an idol. One of the most famous women in the country. And I'm… I'm a businessman on the verge of bankruptcy. This can't exist. Outside of here. In the real world."

She lifts her head. Looks at you. "I know," she says. "Nothing this good could be real."

"Then why—"

"Because we're here to pretend." She kisses you again and your hands tighten on her waist involuntarily. "Remember? That's what you said. We'd pretend together. That our problems can't reach us. That the outside world doesn't exist."

"I remember."

"So let's pretend this is real too." Her forehead rests against yours. "Just for now. Just while we're here. Let me have this."

You don’t resist. You know better, but you still don’t argue "Okay," you say. "We'll pretend." She smiles. Settles back against your chest. Your arms tighten around her, and she sighs, and the sound is the closest thing to peace you've heard in months.

Here's something you've never told anyone: you don't actually know what love feels like. You've had relationships. Girlfriends who lasted months or years, who shared your bed and your time and eventually your boredom. But love? That consuming, transformative thing that poets write about? You've always assumed it was exaggeration. Metaphor. A beautiful lie people tell themselves to make the mundane feel meaningful.

But lying here with Jimin's heartbeat pressed against your ribs and her breath warm on your neck, something changes. It's not dramatic. No fireworks, no movie moment. It's just... you can't tell where your body ends and hers starts anymore. Her breathing matches yours. Her heartbeat syncs up with the rhythm in your chest. You're this close, this tangled up together, and for the first time in your life you understand what people mean when they talk about feeling complete.

This is probably what love feels like

—

Yes, what you're thinking eventually happened.

You and Jimin spent the day together. All of it. The cooking lessons she insisted on giving you, standing at the stove with her arms around you from behind, guiding your hands through the motions of chopping and stirring and not setting things on fire. You made a spectacular mess. Flour on the counters, sauce splattered across the backsplash, something that might have been an egg but ended up more on the floor than in the bowl. But you also made progress. Actual, measurable progress. By evening, you'd produced something edible. Not good, exactly. But edible. Jimin ate it anyway, and the look on her face when she swallowed was only slightly pained.

And then there was the rest of it. The parts that don't need narrating. The parts you can probably imagine if you've been paying attention to the story. The parts that happened after dinner, and then again after midnight, and then once more in the grey hours before dawn.

Which brings us here. The next morning.

You're in bed together, sheets tangled around your legs. The storm hasn't stopped. You're beginning to think it never will. That you've been transported to some alternate dimension where the sun is a myth and the only weather that exists is this endless, drumming wet.

Jimin is lying beside you, wearing nothing but white cotton panties and a thin tank top. Her nipples press against the fabric, visible outlines that draw your eye every time you try to look elsewhere. Her hair is spread across the pillow in dark waves, messy from sleep and from everything that came before sleep, and there's a mark on her collarbone that you don't remember making but are reasonably certain is your fault.

Your finger traces a slow line along her bare thigh. From knee to hip and back again. Her skin so soft, warm from the cocoon of blankets, and she shivers slightly when your touch skirts too close to the edge of her underwear. "I wish I knew how to draw," you say.

Jimin turns her head on the pillow, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. "Why?"

"So I could draw you. Right now. Like this." Your finger continues its lazy path, up and down, up and down. "That would be romantic, wouldn't it? The tortured artist capturing his muse in charcoal and shadow."

"You'd probably draw me with three arms and a head shaped like a potato."

She's not wrong. You've never had any talent for visual arts. Your handwriting looks like a seismograph reading during an earthquake, and the one time you tried to sketch something in college, your girlfriend at the time asked if it was supposed to be a horse or a pile of laundry. “Babe, you’ve gotta trust me a little more,” you say. “Still… you’re not wrong.”

"Is there anything you actually know how to do with your hands?" Jimin asks, light, teasing. "Cooking, no. Drawing, apparently not. What skills do you possess?"

You shift closer to her, your hand sliding higher on her thigh, fingers dipping beneath the hem of her tank top to trace along her hip bone. "I don't want to brag," you say, "but you seemed to enjoy what I did with my hands yesterday. And last night. And this morning, around three a.m."

Her breath catches slightly. Just a small hitch, barely noticeable, but you're paying attention. "Conceited," she murmurs.

"Confident."

She rolls toward you, her body pressing against yours, and then she's climbing on top of you, knees settling on either side of your hips, hands bracing against your chest. The tank top rides up, exposing the flat plane of her stomach, the delicate curve of her waist. And when she leans down to kiss you, you taste sleep and warmth. "Conceited," Jimin repeats against your lips. She tilts her head, searching your face. "What do you think of me?" she asks quietly. "After everything I told you last night?"

And there it is. The things she said in the dark, when the barriers were down and the words came easier. Things you won't repeat, not here, not now. They belong to her, those truths. You're just the vessel she chose to pour them into. "I think..." You reach up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, letting your hand linger against her cheek. "I think there are more questions in the answers. I think you're more complicated than you let anyone see. I think you've been carrying weight that no one person should have to carry alone."

Your hand slides down, tracing the line of her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. Down her arm and back up again, mapping the geography of her body. "I wish I could do more for you," you say. "Fix things. Make it better. Be more than just..." She knows what you mean. The room, the rain, the strange, unlikely bubble you ended up creating together. "This."

"What is this?"

"One last day,” and it tastes bitter saying it. True, but still bitter. "That's all I can give you. Tomorrow I have to go back. The meeting. The board. The slow-motion car crash of my professional life."

"That's all I want," she says, tracing random patterns on your chest, a hint of heat moving across your skin. "One more day. With you. Here. Where nothing outside can reach us."

She shifts on top of you, adjusting her position, and the movement drags her hips across yours in a way that makes your breath catch. You're hard already. Have been since she climbed on top of you, probably. Her body pressing against yours through thin layers of cotton, the heat of her seeping through the fabric. Jimin feels it. Her lips curve into something knowing.

"Someone wants another round," she observes.

“That honestly wasn’t even on my mind, I swear.”

She smiles and leans down to kiss you. You feel her tongue sliding against yours as her hips begin to move. A lazy grind that drags the thin cotton of her panties across your length, creating friction that makes you grip her waist involuntarily. Her hand slides between your bodies. Fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear, tugging downward, working the fabric past your hips. Your cock springs free, hard and aching, and she wraps her fingers around it immediately. A light grip at first, her thumb sweeping across the head in a teasing circle.

"Better?" she asks against your mouth.

Your hips jerk involuntarily. "Getting there.”

She continues stroking you, her grip finding a rhythm that's maddeningly unhurried, and her mouth never leaves yours. Kissing you slow and deep while her hand works your cock with the same patience. Then she shifts, adjusting her position, and suddenly the head of your cock is pressed against the thin cotton barrier of her panties. Right there. Right against her cunt, where the fabric is already damp, where you can feel the heat of her radiating through the material like she's burning from the inside out.

Your hand finds her ass. Squeezes. And god, the way it fills your palm, the perfect yield of soft flesh under your fingers, the way she gasps quietly into your mouth when you grip harder. She has the kind of ass that makes you want to spend hours just touching it, mapping every curve, learning exactly how much pressure makes her breath catch. Jimin lifts her hips slightly. Her free hand reaches down between her legs, fingers hooking into the cotton of her panties and pulling them aside, and then she's lowering herself back down and you feel it. The wet heat of her pressing against your bare cock, no barrier anymore, nothing between you but skin and slick warmth.

She takes you in slowly. Her body opens around you, her walls gripping you tight as she sinks down. Your hands tighten on her hips involuntarily, fingers digging into soft flesh. "Fuck," you breathe. She bottoms out. Takes all of you, her hips flush against yours, and for a moment she just stays there. Adjusting. Letting her body accommodate the stretch. Her eyes are closed, lips parted, and you can see the flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat.

Then she starts to move. Slow at first. A gentle roll of her hips, circular and smooth, grinding down against you in a way that creates friction without urgency. Her pussy is perfect. Tight and wet and hot, clinging to your cock with every movement, and you have to remind yourself to breathe because the sensation is overwhelming in the best possible way.

Her breasts sway gently inside her tank top with each roll of her hips. The thin fabric does nothing to conceal their shape, the way they move, the outline of her nipples pressing against the cotton. You want to push the shirt up, expose her completely, take those breasts in your hands and feel their weight. But there's something almost more erotic about this. The hint of concealment. The suggestion of skin without the full reveal.

And speaking of which: Jimin's pale skin glows in the grey morning light. She looks ethereal, otherworldly, something you dreamed up in a fever. Her dark hair cascades over her shoulders, brushing against her collarbones, and when she opens her eyes to look down at you, it knocks the breath out of you.

"You feel good," she murmurs, low, breathy, slightly unsteady.

"You feel incredible."

She smiles at that. Leans down to kiss you again, her breasts pressing against your chest through the thin fabric, and her hips never stop moving. That slow, sinuous rhythm that's driving you slowly insane. Your hands slide from her hips to her ass, palming both cheeks, guiding her movements even as she sets the pace. She feels unbelievably good. Every roll of her hips drags your cock through her slick heat, you can feel how wet she is, the evidence of her arousal coating your length, making every movement smooth and easy.

"I like watching you," you say. "Like this. On top of me."

Jimin's rhythm falters slightly. A flush spreads across her cheeks, down her neck, disappearing beneath the collar of her tank top. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Your hands squeeze her ass, pulling her down harder on the next stroke. "You're beautiful."

She kisses you instead of responding, and her pace increases. Still not fast, not urgent, but more intentional now. Rising up until you're almost slipping out of her, then sinking back down in one smooth motion that makes both of you gasp. Her breasts bounce more noticeably with the increased movement, and you can't help but slide one hand up from her ass, up the curve of her waist, until your palm cups her breast through the tank top.

Her nipple is hard against your palm. You roll it between your fingers, and Jimin moans. A real sound, unguarded, and her hips stutter in their rhythm. "Don't stop," you tell her.

Her pace settles back into something steady, a little faster than before, her thighs flexing with each rise and fall. Your cock slides in and out of her perfect pussy, slick and hot and so fucking tight around you. The sound of it fills the room. Wet and rhythmic, obscene in the quiet morning, and somehow that makes it better. Knowing what you sound like together. Knowing you're making those sounds.

Jimin braces her hands on your chest, using the leverage to ride you deeper. Her head tips back, exposing the long column of her throat, and you watch her move on top of you with something approaching reverence. The way her body undulates. The way her breasts sway beneath the cotton. The way her lips part around soft sounds of pleasure. "God," she breathes. "You feel so good inside me."

You thrust up to meet her on the next stroke, and she cries out. A sharp, surprised sound that dissolves into a moan as you do it again. And again. You're timing it now, driving up when she comes down, and the rhythm locks in. You're both moving together, perfectly synced, like you've been doing this for years instead of minutes.

The pace builds gradually. Her eyes are closed. Head tipped back. Lost somewhere inside herself, inside the sensation, inside the place where pleasure builds and builds until it becomes impossible to contain. You can feel it in her body. The way her pussy grips you tighter with each stroke. The way her rhythm becomes less controlled, more instinctive. The way her whole frame trembles with the effort of chasing something that's just out of reach.

"Oh god," she breathes, shaky and desperate. "Oh god, oh god—" Her pace becomes erratic. Faster, harder, grinding down against you. Her breasts bounce beneath the rumpled tank top, nipples dragging against the fabric, and the sounds she makes are the sweetest thing you've ever heard. Soft, broken moans that spill from her lips without permission. Little gasps and whimpers that she can't seem to control. "I'm close," she manages. "I'm so close, I'm going to—"

"Cum on my cock,” you say, guiding her hips. “I want to feel you cum, Jimin. Let go."

She cries out. Her rhythm shatters completely, hips jerking in uncoordinated movements as she chases the edge. You thrust up into her, faster, giving her what she needs, and you watch her face as she breaks apart. The orgasm finally hits her. Her whole body goes taut, spine arching, mouth falling open in a silent cry that finally releases as a long, trembling moan. Her pussy clenches around you in rhythmic pulses, squeezing your cock so tight it almost hurts, and you can feel the rush of wetness as she comes undone.

She's beautiful when she cums. The way her face transforms, all the tension and control stripped away, nothing left but pure, unfiltered pleasure. The way her body moves through it, riding the aftershocks, her hips still twitching against yours even as the peak begins to fade. Her moans taper off into soft, breathless sounds. Little whimpers of oversensitivity as her body comes down from the high. She's trembling, her thighs shaking on either side of your hips, and when she finally opens her eyes, they're glazed. Unfocused. Lost in the aftermath.

She collapses against you. Her full weight settles onto your chest, warm and boneless, and you catch her automatically. Wrap your arms around her. Hold her close while she breathes against your neck with her heart hammering so hard you can feel it through her ribs. "That was..." she starts, but doesn't finish. Doesn't need to. You turn your head and she lifts hers and then you're kissing, deep and tender, lips soft against yours, her tongue sliding lazily against your own, and you could stay like this forever. Wrapped up in her, surrounded by her, still buried inside her.

But your cock is still hard. Still aching. Still desperate for release. Slowly you roll her over. She makes a small sound of surprise as her back hits the mattress, as your weight settles over her. Her dark hair fans across the pillow, and she looks up at you with eyes that are still hazy with pleasure but beginning to sharpen with interest. You pull out of her.

First things first. Your underwear is still tangled around your legs, shoved down but not removed. You kick free of them impatiently, finally bare, finally unrestricted. Then her panties. The white cotton that she'd only pushed aside, that's still clinging to her hips, damp with her arousal. You hook your fingers into the waistband and draw them down slowly. Over her hips. Down her thighs. Past her knees, her calves, her ankles, until they're gone and she's completely naked beneath you except for that thin tank top.

You settle between her legs. Spread her thighs wider with your hands, making room for yourself, and she lets you. Opens for you willingly, eagerly, her breath quickening again as you position yourself.

Your cock brushes against her entrance and you both shudder. She's soaked. Absolutely drenched, her arousal smeared across her inner thighs, and when you look down at where your bodies almost meet, you can see it. The cream forming at her opening, thick and white, evidence of how thoroughly she came on your cock just moments ago.

"Look at you," you murmur, dragging the head of your cock through her folds, coating yourself in her wetness. "So fucking wet for me."

Jimin's hips twitch, trying to chase the contact. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me again. I want to feel you inside me."

You rub your cock against her entrance one more time, teasing, watching the way her cream clings to your shaft. Then you push forward. She takes you easily this time, her pussy still loose and slick from her orgasm, and you slide into her in one smooth stroke that makes both of you groan. She's even wetter inside than before, hot and welcoming, and you can feel her walls flutter around you as her body adjusts to being filled again. You start slow. Long, deep strokes that pull almost all the way out before pushing back in. Taking your time now that the first desperate edge has been taken off, savoring the sensation of her body wrapped around yours. The bed creaks softly beneath you, a rhythmic accompaniment to the wet sounds of your cock moving inside her.

Jimin's hands find your shoulders, her nails digging in lightly, and her legs wrap around your waist to pull you deeper. Her eyes are locked on yours, and there's an intimacy to this position that wasn't there when she was on top. Face to face. Breath mingling. Nowhere to hide.

"You feel so good," she whispers. "So fucking good inside me."

You lean down and kiss her, swallowing her next moan as you sink deep and hold there, grinding against her, feeling every inch of her pussy clenching around your cock. You fuck her slowly at first, savoring every sensation, committing every detail to memory because you know this can't last. The wet heat of her pussy wrapped around your cock. The way her body yields beneath yours, soft and welcoming. The small sounds she makes with each thrust, breathy little gasps that escape her parted lips.

But your hips find a rhythm eventually. Pulling back until just the head of your cock remains inside her, then sliding forward in one long stroke that buries you to the hilt.

"Harder," she whispers. You comply. The pace increases incrementally, your hips snapping forward with more force, driving deeper into her slick heat.

Then Jimin's hands leave your shoulders. They travel down her own body, fingers trailing over her collarbones, her chest, until they reach the hem of her tank top. She grips the fabric and pulls it up in one fluid motion, bunching it above her breasts, exposing herself completely. And god. Her tits.

They're perfect. Large and full, pale as cream against the grey sheets, capped with nipples that are flushed pink and hard. They bounce with each thrust, a rhythm that matches the movement of your hips. Soft flesh rippling with every impact, swaying gently when you pull back, jiggling when you slam forward. "You like watching them?" Jimin asks.

"I fucking love watching them."

She smiles. Her hands come up to cup her own breasts, fingers spreading to contain the soft weight. She squeezes them together, lifts them slightly, presents them to you, then her fingers find her nipples, pinching lightly, rolling the hard peaks between thumb and forefinger.

The sound she makes is devastating. A low, throaty moan that vibrates through her chest as she touches herself while you fuck her. Her eyes flutter closed, lips parting, and she plays with her nipples like she's putting on a show just for you. Tugging at them, circling them, pressing down and releasing to watch them spring back.

Your pace increases again. The sight of her touching herself, combined with the tight grip of her pussy around your cock, is driving you toward an edge you're not ready to reach. You need to make her cum again first. Need to feel her fall apart beneath you one more time.

Your hand leaves its position beside her head, travels down her body, over the soft curve of her stomach, until your fingers find the place where your bodies meet. You can feel your own cock sliding in and out of her, can feel the stretch of her pussy around your shaft. And just above that junction, her clit waits. Swollen and sensitive, peeking out from its hood, begging to be touched.

You press your thumb against it. Jimin's reaction is immediate and violent. Her back arches off the bed and her pussy clamps down on your cock so hard you see stars. Her hands abandon her nipples to grip the sheets instead.

"Oh fuck," she gasps. "Oh fuck, right there, keep going, don't stop—"

Your thumb circles her clit in tight movements, matching the rhythm of your thrusts. Pressure and friction and the relentless slide of your cock inside her, all working together to push her toward the edge. Her breasts bounce freely now, no longer contained by her hands.

"That's it," you murmur, watching her face contort with pleasure. "That's it, let me feel you cum again."

Her moans become more urgent. Higher pitched, more desperate. Her hips buck against yours, meeting your thrusts with movements of her own, fucking herself on your cock while your thumb works her clit without mercy. The wet sounds grow louder, wetter, her arousal practically flooding out of her with each stroke.

"I'm gonna—" she starts, but can't finish. Her whole body is trembling, muscles tensing, pussy fluttering around your cock in a way that tells you she's right on the edge.

You press harder on her clit. Fuck her deeper. Give her everything you have. She shatters.

The orgasm rips through her with enough force to make her scream. Her spine curves impossibly, her head thrown back against the pillow, and her pussy clamps down on your cock in rhythmic pulses that threaten to drag you over with her. But that's not all.

A sudden rush of wetness, a pressure releasing, and then she's squirting. A clear stream of fluid spurts from where your bodies meet, soaking your stomach, coating your cock, splashing against your thighs. Not a lot, but unmistakable. Evidence of just how thoroughly you've wrecked her.

"Holy shit," you breathe, but you don't stop. You keep fucking her through it, keep rubbing her clit, and her orgasm seems to go on forever. Waves and waves of pleasure crashing through her, her pussy spasming around you, her whole body shaking with the force of it. And every time you thrust back in, another small squirt accompanies it. Like her body can't contain everything you're making her feel. Like she's overflowing with pleasure and it has nowhere to go but out.

"Oh my god," she's babbling, "oh my god, oh my god—"

You're relentless now. Fucking her through the aftershocks, feeling her squirt around your cock with each stroke, watching the mess spread beneath you both. The sheets are soaked. Your thighs are dripping. And still you don't stop.

You can feel your orgasm gathering, inevitable, and you know you need to make a decision about where you're going to finish.

One last long thrust. You bury yourself inside her as deep as you can go, hold there for a moment, feeling her pussy pulse around you, feeling the last tremors of her orgasm ripple through her walls. Then you pull out.

Your cock emerges glistening wet, coated in her cum and her squirt and your own precum. You shift position, moving up her body until you're kneeling over her chest, your cock positioned directly above her breasts. She knows what you want without being told.

Her hands come up immediately, cupping those perfect pale tits and pressing them together, creating a valley of soft flesh for you. She looks up at you with dark eyes, lips curved in invitation. "Cum on me," she says, seductive and utterly filthy. "I want to feel it. I want to see it."

You wrap your hand around your cock and start stroking. It only takes seconds. You're too wound up, too desperate, too overwhelmed by everything that's happened. The first spurt hits her chest with enough force to reach her collarbone, a thick rope of white against her pale skin. "Yes," Jimin breathes, squeezing her tits tighter together. "Keep going. Cum on me. Give me everything."

The second spurt lands between her breasts, pooling in the valley she's created. The third stripes across her left nipple. You groan, hand working your shaft, and you can't stop cumming. It just keeps coming, wave after wave of release, painting her chest white.

"That's it," she encourages. "Cum for me. Every last drop. I want it all." Her words drag another spurt out of you, splashing across her right breast. Your hand keeps moving, milking your cock, drawing out every last bit of cum until you're finally, completely empty.

You look down at the mess you've made. Her perfect pale tits, covered in streaks and pools of your cum. Some of it sliding down toward her stomach. Some of it caught around her hard nipples. Some of it still sitting in the valley between her breasts, warm and thick.

Jimin smiles up at you. Pleased. Satisfied. Looking at the cum on her chest like it's a gift she's been waiting for. "Come here," she says.

You shift forward, and she guides your softening cock toward her mouth. Her lips part and she takes just the tip inside. Her eyes close as she wraps her lips around you, sucking gently, her tongue swirling to clean away the remaining traces of cum. The sensation is too much on your sensitive flesh, but you don't pull away. You watch her. The way her cheeks hollow slightly with each gentle suck. The way her lashes rest against her cheeks. The way she hums contentedly around your cock like she's savoring something delicious.

When she finally releases you, there's a single drop of cum clinging to the corner of her lip. You reach down, brush it away with your thumb. Before you can pull back, her mouth opens and she takes your thumb inside, sucking it clean with the same attention she gave your cock.

Her eyes open, finding yours. "I love your taste," she says quietly, releasing your thumb.

You lean down and kiss her, tasting yourself on her tongue, and you think that this might be the closest thing to perfect you've ever experienced.

—

The morning unfolds in this weird, borrowed way. Like you've stepped into someone else's life for a bit. Domestic and quiet and strangely... normal? Jimin makes breakfast. You're planted at the kitchen island just watching her move around. You're memorizing this. The angle of her shoulders, the way she reaches for things, how natural it all looks. Filing it away in that part of your brain where you keep shit you know you'll want to remember later.

She notices you watching. The look she gives you is knowing, maybe a little amused.

You accept the plate she offers and make some comment about your inevitable starvation back in Seoul. She points out you could learn to cook. You counter that this has been definitively proven impossible. She mentions yesterday's attempt. You clarify that successfully cracking a single egg without shell contamination doesn't qualify as progress; it's barely basic human function. That gets a smile out of her. She grabs her own plate and settles in next to you. You eat together without talking. Outside, the rain keeps doing its thing.

Later, you bundle yourselves in raincoats and venture outside.

The storm's died down to a drizzle. You grab two umbrellas before heading out, even though you're both already wearing raincoats. It feels like the right thing to do. Jimin takes your hand without asking. Just reaches over and laces her fingers through yours, natural as breathing, and you start walking down the overgrown path that connects all the lake properties.

"These were all occupied when I was a kid," you say, pointing at the first house. Two-story cabin, wood siding, completely empty now. The garden's a mess: bushes everywhere, grass up to your knees. "The Choi family lived there. Three kids my age. We played together every summer."

"What happened to them?"

"Moved to Busan, I think. Dad got a job there. They sold it to some development company that bought it and then... nothing. Just left it to rot." You keep walking. More houses, all the same story. Families moved away, companies bought them, promised they'd fix them up and never did. The whole neighborhood's just sitting here empty and falling apart.

"It's sad," Jimin says, looking at one house where the roof's caved in on one side. "All these empty places."

"Everything ends eventually." You squeeze her hand. "Not always a bad thing. Sometimes it just is what it is." She doesn't say anything, but her grip gets tighter. Makes you wonder if she's thinking about endings too.

Then the lightning hits. One second you're fine, pointing out the old dock where you used to fish with your grandfather. The next second there's this massive crack of thunder and a flash so bright you can't see anything. The bolt strikes somewhere across the lake, close enough that you both freeze.

Jimin gasps and presses into you. "That was close," she says.

"Not that close. Maybe a kilometer."

"It felt close."

You pull her under a big oak tree. Yeah, you know you're not supposed to stand under trees during lightning storms. You know that's literally the worst place to be. But her hand's shaking in yours and you need to hold her for a second.

"We should go back," you say. She nods against your chest.

You walk back way faster than you came out. The umbrellas are basically useless now anyway - the wind's picked up and you're getting soaked from every direction. By the time you get to the house, you're both completely drenched and laughing about it.

—

Night hits different out here. No city lights means when the sun goes down, it really goes down. Total darkness.

You're in your bedroom changing clothes when your phone lights up on the nightstand. Honestly, you'd kind of forgotten you had a phone. Since getting here, you've basically only used the laptop for work stuff. The phone's just been sitting there, ignored. But now the screen's going crazy. One notification. Two. Three. They keep coming. Missed calls, texts, voicemails. All from the same person: Yoon-a.

Over a hundred missed calls. A hundred. Who the fuck calls someone a hundred times? Like, what level of panic or obsession even drives that? You pick up the phone anyway. Stare at the screen. From the living room, you can hear Jimin doing something. Cabinet doors opening and closing. She's looking for something.

You call her back. She answers on the first ring.

"Oh my god!” she exclaims. "Oh my god, you're alive. Where have you been? Why haven't you answered? I've been calling for days. Days. I thought something happened to you. I thought you were dead. I thought—"

"I'm fine," you say. "Yoon-a. I'm fine. Calm down."

"Calm down? Calm down?! You disappear without telling anyone, you don't answer your phone, you don't respond to texts, and you want me to calm down?"

"I just needed some time. To clear my head. Get away from everything."

"Get away from—" She stops. You can hear her breathing hard on the other end. "I watched this movie last night. This stupid movie, I don't even know why I watched it. About this businessman who loses everything. All his money, his company, his reputation. And at the end he… He shoots himself in the head."

"That's dark."

"I thought of you. Immediately. I couldn't stop thinking about you. Alone somewhere. Going through everything you're going through. And I kept calling and calling and you never answered."

"I'm flattered you think I'm that dramatic."

"This isn't funny." She's crying now, you can hear it. Small, hiccuping sobs that she's trying to suppress. "This isn't a joke. I was terrified. I am terrified. You're out there alone, not talking to anyone, dealing with all of this by yourself—"

"I'm at the lake house. My family's place. I'm fine. Completely fine."

"The lake house?"

"Yeah. I just needed to get away. I should have told you. I should have answered. I'm sorry."

There's a pause. A long, shaky exhale. "I'm sorry too," she says. "About the fight. In the elevator. I was being ridiculous. Clingy, like you said. I shouldn't have pushed you about dinner with my parents when you had so much going on. I shouldn't have made everything about me. I was an idiot."

"No." You sit down on the edge of the bed. "It's not your fault. I'm the one who should apologize. I've been distant. Distracted. I've been treating you badly for weeks, and you didn't deserve any of it."

"You've been stressed. I should have understood that. I should have given you space instead of demanding things."

"You shouldn't have had to. I should have talked to you. Explained what I was going through instead of just... disappearing."

"I love you," she confesses. "I love you, okay? And I know things are hard right now. I know the company is falling apart and everyone's giving you shit and you feel like the whole world is against you. But I'm not against you. I'm with you. No matter what happens." You close your eyes. Take a deep breath. "Come back to me," she continues. "Please. Come home. I'll take care of you. We'll figure this out together. I don't care if you lose the company. I don't care if you lose all your money. I mean—" A wet laugh. "I'd prefer if you stayed super rich, obviously. The lifestyle is very comfortable. But if you become poor, that's fine. I'll adapt. I'll support you. I'll love you anyway."

"Yoon-a—"

"Our son misses you. He's been moping around the apartment, looking for you. He keeps sleeping on your side of the bed." The dog isn't yours in any way... but you don't feel the need to correct her this time. "Are you lonely?" she asks. "There by yourself?"

You think about Jimin. In the living room right now, probably curled up on the sofa, surrounded by blankets, waiting for you to come watch a movie with her. Jimin, who kissed you this morning. Who rode you until she came. Who walked through the rain holding your hand. "No," you say. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Because I could come. I could catch a flight tonight—"

"I'm coming back tomorrow. The board meeting. I have to be there." You rub your forehead with your free hand. "We can talk properly then. Figure things out."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay." She sniffles. Takes a breath. "Okay. Tomorrow. I'll be waiting."

"Don't cry," you say. "Not for me. I don't deserve it."

"That's not how emotions work, dummy. You don't get to decide what other people feel about you."

"Goodnight, Yoon-a."

"Goodnight." A pause. "I love you." The words hang there, waiting for a response. Three simple syllables that should be easy to say. That would be easy, probably, if you hadn't spent the last three days falling into something with someone else.

"Goodnight," you say again. "Sleep well." You end the call. The phone sits in your hand, screen dimming, then going dark. You stare at it for a long time.

Look, being a shitty person isn't like the movies. You don't sit there twirling a villain mustache or cackling while you kick puppies. You're not Darth Vader. You're not even a recognizable bad guy. You're just... you. A regular person making regular choices that happen to hurt people. You took a trip without telling your almost-girlfriend. You invited a stranger along. Held her hand. Kissed her. Fucked her until she came so hard she squirted all over you.

None of it felt villainous while it was happening. All of it was, in its own way, beautiful.

But beautiful things can leave ugly messes behind. And the people you hurt don't give a shit about your good intentions. Damage is damage, regardless of whether you meant it. So you sit there on the edge of the bed and just... feel it. The guilt. The self-loathing. That growing certainty that you've fucked up in ways you won't even understand until later.

Then you breathe. Stand up. Run your fingers through your hair and Just say "fuck it.”

You're not dealing with this now. There'll be plenty of time for beating yourself up later, back in Seoul, when everything comes crashing down. Right now? You've still got a few hours left. A few more hours in this bubble. A few more hours with Jimin.

You walk back to the living room. She's on the sofa, exactly where you pictured her, except there's a massive bowl of popcorn balanced on her lap. She looks up when you enter, and her face breaks into a smile. "I made popcorn," she announces proudly. "And before you say anything, yes, I used the stove. No, I didn't burn down the kitchen. Some of us have basic survival skills." You force a smile back. It feels stiff on your face, but she doesn't seem to notice. "Impressive," you say. She shifts to make room for you on the sofa, and that's when you notice what she's wearing.

Your shirt. The Oxford button-down, light blue, slightly too big on her. The sleeves are rolled up to her elbows and the hem falls to mid-thigh, and she looks impossibly good in it. Cozy and rumpled and unreasonably attractive. Your brain helpfully reminds you that Yoon-a loves this shirt. Used to steal it constantly, wear it on lazy Sunday mornings, always threatening to keep it for good.

The timing of that memory is really fucking inconvenient.

"You okay?" Jimin's watching your face now. "You seem kinda weird."

You shake it off. Plaster on a better smile. "I'm fine," you say. "Just tired." You drop onto the sofa next to her, close enough that your legs touch, and pull her into your side. Your arm settles around her shoulders naturally and she leans into you without hesitation. The popcorn bowl balances between you both.

For now, you're fine. You can deal with everything else later.

—

The last morning arrives with an unexpected guest: the sun. Jimin finds you in the kitchen, already dressed, already packed, already holding a cup of coffee that you made yourself. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight. "You're awake."

"I'm awake."

"You made coffee."

"I did."

She approaches the counter slowly. "How?"

"YouTube tutorial. How to Use a Coffee Maker: Tutorial for Beginners. Fourteen minutes long. Very thorough. I now understand the concept of water reservoirs and filter placement."

"You've never used a coffee maker before?"

"I've never had to. That's what staff are for." You pour her a cup, slide it across the counter. "Apparently regular people just make their own coffee every morning. Wild concept."

She takes a sip. Her eyebrows rise. "It's good."

"Don't sound so surprised. I'm a quick learner when properly motivated."

The last few hours unspool in a series of small, practical tasks. Packing bags, making calls to confirm arrangements, to coordinate schedules, to begin the process of reintegrating into a world that's been waiting impatiently for your return. Your pilot answers on the second ring. Yes, the jet is ready. Yes, everything is prepared. Yes, he'll be waiting at the scheduled time. His voice is professionally neutral, giving no indication of what he thinks about his employer disappearing for days without explanation.

Through the windows, you watch the sun climb higher, burning off the last traces of mist that cling to the lake. The water is blue now, no longer the churning grey it's been since you arrived. It looks like a postcard.

Jimin makes her own calls. You try not to listen, but the house isn't big enough for real privacy, and fragments drift toward you anyway. Words like "schedule" and "statement" and "the members are worried." She responds in tones you haven't heard from her before. More certain.

There's still food in the kitchen. More than you could possibly eat, more than made sense to order in the first place. You make a mental note to call someone, have them come clear it out, donate it somewhere useful. It seems wasteful to just leave it here to rot in an empty house.

The drive to the airfield is quiet. The jet trip is quieter still. You sit across from each other in leather seats, Seoul approaches through oval windows, and neither of you says much of anything. There's nothing left to say, really. Everything important has already been communicated in other ways. In touches and silences and the space between words. Jimin wears her disguise again. Baseball cap pulled low, face mask covering everything below her eyes.

Your car's waiting at the private terminal. You toss her suitcases in the back, hold the door open for her, then get behind the wheel. Seoul hits you immediately. Traffic everywhere. Buildings stacked on top of buildings. Twelve million people all doing their thing at once. After the quiet of the lake house, it's a lot. Too much, actually. Too loud. Too crowded. Your brain doesn't know what to do with all the stimulus.

She tells you the address and you start driving. Neither of you talks. You just navigate the same streets you've been driving for years, except everything feels off now. Like you left for a weekend trip and came back to find the city rearranged. Or maybe it's the same and you're what changed. Hard to tell.

Her building's in Gangnam. Naturally. Big glass tower with lobby security and doormen and cameras everywhere that'll definitely catch her getting out of your car. You pull up to the entrance. Put the car in park. Sit there for a moment, hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead. "I don't know what to say," you admit. "I've never been through anything like this before. There's no template. No script."

Jimin pulls her mask down to her chin, and you can see her face properly for the first time since you left the lake house. "You don't need to say anything," she tells you.

"That feels wrong somehow. Like we should mark the moment. Acknowledge it."

"We are acknowledging it. This is what acknowledgment looks like when there's nothing left to add."

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel. Outside, a man walks past with a dog. A taxi honks in the distance. The city continues, indifferent. "Will we keep talking?" you ask. "After this?"

Jimin is quiet for a moment. Considering. "I don't know," she says finally. "Let's see what happens over time."

"That's very noncommittal."

"It's honest. I don't know what I want yet. I don't know what's possible." She shrugs, a small movement. "Right now, all I know is that I need to go back to my life and figure out what that looks like. Everything else is... uncertain."

"Fair enough."

You stare out the windshield, watching a delivery truck navigate the narrow street. "It's a shame," you say. "That things can't work out. Between us."

"I'm an idol. You know how it works. Dating scandals, public scrutiny, sasaeng fans digging through every aspect of my personal life. Even if we wanted to try, the logistics would be impossible."

"I know."

"And you have a girl who likes you."

You turn to look at her. "She was never my girlfriend."

"I know. But she cares about you. That call... she was really worried."

"Did you hear—"

"Yes." She cuts you off gently. "I heard it. The walls aren't that thick."

A beat of silence. The engine hums. "I'm going to talk to her," you say. "When I get back. I'm going to be honest about what happened. About everything." You pause, meeting her eyes. "I won't mention you. I won't say who I was with. That's not my secret to tell. But I can't lie to her about the fact that something happened."

Jimin nods slowly. "That's fair."

"I don't know how she'll take it. She might hate me. She probably should."

"Maybe." Jimin's gaze drifts to the window, to the building waiting to reclaim her, to the life she's about to step back into. "But you should do what you think is right. Whatever that looks like for you."

"What I think is right," you repeat. "That's a terrifying amount of freedom."

"Welcome to being an adult. It's mostly just making decisions and hoping you don't fuck everything up."

"You're very wise for someone who was crying on a park bench two weeks ago."

"Growth happens fast when you're forced into it." Her lips curve slightly. "Besides, I learned from the best. Some random guy who talks too much and can't operate a coffee maker."

"I can operate a coffee maker now. Technically."

"Congratulations. You've achieved baseline functionality."

You both laugh, and it feels good. Easy. Like maybe this doesn't have to be the end of everything, even if it's the end of this particular chapter. She reaches between the seats and retrieves her suitcases from the back. Two small bags, barely enough for a weekend, containing everything she brought to a trip she never planned to take. She opens the door, but she doesn't get out. "Sometime," she says, "we should get coffee. You and me."

"Coffee."

"We're still strangers, technically. Two people who met once in a park and then spent a few days in a bubble that doesn't count as real life. But I'd like to be your friend. If that's something you'd want."

"That would be cool," you say. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"Good." She pauses, glances at the door. Then back at you. "You're a good person," she says. "I know you don't believe that. But I do."

Before you can respond, she leans across and presses her lips to your cheek. A soft, brief contact, there and gone. Then she pulls her mask back up, hiding the lower half of her face, becoming Karina again before your eyes. "Good luck," she says. "With the meeting. With everything. It'll work out for you. I know it will." And then she's gone. Out of the car, through the building entrance, swallowed by the elevator and the security guards and the life that's been waiting to reclaim her.

You sit there for a while. Engine idling. Watching the space where she used to be. Good person.

You don't know how true that is. The evidence suggests otherwise, honestly. The choices you've made. The way you've hurt people without meaning to, without even fully understanding the damage until it was already done. Nothing is fixed. Not your company. Not your relationships. Not who you are or who you could become. Everything is still in motion, still being decided, still waiting for you to make the next choice.

Your phone buzzes. A text from your assistant. Thirty minutes until the meeting starts. You look at the message. Look at the building where Jimin disappeared. Look at the road ahead.

If you can save your company (and you're going to try, you're going to fight like hell), then maybe other impossible things aren't so impossible either. Maybe the logistics that seem insurmountable right now will look different in six months. A year. Maybe being an idol and being with someone doesn't have to be mutually exclusive. Maybe you just need to prove to yourself that you can actually fix something before you try to build something new.

One problem at a time. That's how you survive.

You put the car in drive. Pull away from the curb. Merge into traffic, becoming just another vehicle in the endless flow of the city. The meeting is in thirty minutes. The board wants your head. The investors have lost faith. Everyone is waiting for you to fail.

But you're not going to fail. Not today. Not if you have anything to say about it. And when you've saved the company - when, not if - you're going to call Jimin. You're going to take her up on that coffee. And you're going to see what's possible when two people stop pretending and start trying for real.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Swallow the Pill

Kim Minjeong (Winter) x Male Reader

word count: 17K

The duffle bag is halfway zipped when your phone buzzes on the dresser. You glance over, one hand on a folded towel, already thinking it’s the group chat. Maybe they’re early, maybe someone forgot sunscreen—typical. Instead, the name “Winter” flashes on the screen. The towel drops from your hand as you frown at it.

Winter...

You haven’t heard from her in a few days, not since that weirdly intimate coffee date where she’d kept looking at you like you hung the moon. Cute, sure, but intense. A little too much. You two weren’t even a thing. A couple of drunken makeouts at parties, a handful of late-night texts, and maybe one date that leaned dangerously into feelings territory. That’s it.

Her message is short and loaded:

"Hey, are you busy?"

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard for a second. You start typing.

"Kinda. Packing for the beach. What's up?"

The reply comes back fast, like she was waiting for you to answer.

"I’m sick. Really sick. Can you come over?"

You squint at the screen, reading the message twice. Sick? What the hell? You fire back.

"What do you mean sick? Like hospital sick? Are you okay?"

She sends an emoji—one of those pitiful, droopy ones—then another message:

"No hospital. Just the flu or something. I feel awful. Need help."

It takes a second for it to sink in. She must be joking. You stare at the phone, genuinely confused. She has friends, right? Family? Someone closer to her than the guy she’s hooked up with two or three times?

You type:

"Why me? Don’t you have someone else? Friends? Relatives? A neighbor?"

The response is instant:

"Everyone’s busy. And you’re close.

Please, daddy."

Your stomach lurches at the word. She called you that last time you were together too, whispered it in your ear with a grin, like she knew exactly how to get under your skin. You run a hand down your face and reply:

"Don’t call me that."

"Sorry. Please, though. I’m really sick. Can’t even get out of bed. Just need a little favor."

She adds a sad face this time, really driving it home. You stare at your duffle bag, then back at the phone, then back at the duffle.

You’re not her boyfriend. You’re not even really sure what you are. A fling? A pastime? The guy who texts back at 2 a.m.? And yet, there’s this strange pull. The idea of her alone in her apartment, small and helpless, buried under blankets, sniffling. It needles at you.

You type one last message:

"What exactly do you need me to do?"

Her reply is shameless.

"Take care of me. Bring some meds or soup or something. I’ll owe you big."

You know you should say no. You know you should zip the bag, throw it over your shoulder, and walk out the door to meet your friends. But something makes you hesitate.

Is it guilt? Curiosity? Some twisted sense of responsibility for this girl you don’t even know that well? You sigh, tapping out your final surrender.

"Fine. Be there soon."

You throw the duffle bag in the closet. Goodbye, beach. Goodbye, carefree weekend of sun and booze and forgetting your responsibilities.

Winter, you think, had better be worth it.

—

The plastic bags rustle against your leg as you climb the stairs to Winter’s apartment, the fucking elevator is being fixed, and it gives you more time to think about what exactly you're doing. You should have just told her to order delivery. Or called one of her real friends. Or just—anything but this. But here you are, with cold medicine, snacks, and a pint of strawberry ice cream you’re pretty sure she likes because she mentioned it that one time when you were half-listening.

Her messages played through your head the whole drive over. Fever. Headache. Sneezing. She hadn’t sounded dramatic—just miserable enough to guilt you into dropping your plans.

Her door is slightly ajar, probably because she didn’t want to get up to let you in. You knock anyway, a couple of quick raps, and her voice floats out, soft and faint.

“Come in!”

You push the door open and step inside. The place is small, tidy, and unmistakably her. Neutral tones with little bursts of pastel here and there. A fluffy pink throw draped over a beige couch. A single framed photo of a seaside sunset on the wall. It smells faintly of lavender, like one of those candles she’s probably obsessed with.

And there she is, sprawled on the couch, wrapped in the thinnest blanket imaginable. She’s wearing this oversized long-sleeve shirt that probably hits mid-thigh. Her dyed-blonde hair’s a bit of a mess, and her cheeks are faintly flushed. She looks like some kind of sickly cherub, both pitiful and oddly… attractive in her vulnerability.

“Hey,” you say, unsure where to stand, so you hover awkwardly by the door. “How’re you feeling?”

She shifts, sitting up just a little, her voice soft and nasal. “So-so. Better now that you’re here, though.”

You ignore the flutter of something in your chest and hold up the bag. “I got some stuff. Medicine. Snacks. Ice cream, too.”

That perks her up. Her eyes brighten a little. “Ice cream?”

You mumble something barely audible, already heading to her tiny kitchenette. “Yeah. Strawberry. Figured it’d help with the sore throat or whatever.”

She murmurs a soft “thank you” as you stash the pint in her freezer, then return to the living room. You glance around for a place to put the rest of the stuff and end up dumping it on her coffee table. She looks at you with those big, tired eyes, and you feel like you’ve just handed over some priceless treasure instead of a few basics.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” she says quietly, though there’s a small, pleased smile tugging at her lips.

“Well, I’m here now,” you reply, shrugging. Then, unable to help yourself, you add, “Though it’s a shame it’s under these circumstances.”

Her lips quirk. “Yeah. I was the one missing you, and this is what I get. Karma’s cruel, huh?”

You kneel beside the couch, reaching out almost automatically to check her temperature the old-fashioned way. The back of your hand brushes her forehead, warm but not alarming. Her skin is smooth, softer than you’d expected.

“Doesn’t feel like much of a fever,” you say, trying to sound neutral.

“It’s mild,” she admits, leaning into your hand slightly like it’s instinct. “But I still feel awful. Weak. Kinda lightheaded.”

“Mm.” You pull your hand back, studying her for a moment. “Have you eaten anything today?”

She hesitates, her gaze sliding to the side. That’s answer enough.

“Of course not,” you mutter, exasperated but not surprised. “All right. Medicine first, then you’re eating something. I didn’t give up my beach weekend to watch you wither away on this couch.”

Her laugh is soft and a little hoarse, but it’s there. “You’re bossy. I like it.”

You don’t bother replying, already rummaging through the bag for the cold meds. She watches you the whole time, a small, lazy smile on her lips. It’s like she knows something you don’t, and for some reason, that makes you a little nervous.

You pull a pill packet out of the bag and pop one free, holding it out for her like you’re a nurse on shift. She looks up at you, her nose scrunched. “What is it?”

“Magic,” you deadpan, before grabbing the nearest glass off her coffee table, rinsing it in the sink, and filling it with water. You return and plunk it in her hand. “Just take it. It’s for the headache and fever.”

Winter pouts but obediently swallows the pill, washing it down with the water. Her throat bobs as she drinks, and for some reason, you notice her lips lingering on the rim of the glass. You shake it off and clear your throat. “You got anything in the kitchen? Like, soup stuff?”

She blinks, like she has no idea what you’re talking about. “Maybe? I think there’s... carrots? And, um, potatoes?”

“Perfect,” you say dryly, already heading to the fridge. “Soup à la ‘whatever I can find.’”

She props herself up on her elbow, watching you rummage through her cabinets. “Do you even know how to make soup?”

“Nope,” you reply without missing a beat. “But YouTube does.”

Her laugh is soft and raspy. “Good luck, Gordon Ramsay.”

You glance back at her, smirking. “Keep that energy, sick girl.”

—

It takes longer than you’d like—turns out soup’s a bit more complicated than just dumping water in a pot and crossing your fingers—but eventually, you’ve got something that vaguely smells edible. It’s hot, steaming in a bowl, and you’re honestly a little proud of yourself.

You bring it over and hand it to her. She takes it with both hands, peering into the bowl like it’s a work of art.

“Wow,” she murmurs, a small grin tugging at her lips. “It looks legit.”

“Don’t jinx it,” you mutter, sinking into the armchair across from her.

She spoons some up, blowing on it gently before taking a sip. Her eyes widen just slightly. “Hey, this is actually good.”

“You sound shocked,” you say, leaning back. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

She grins, small and sheepish. “Sorry. I just didn’t expect you to... you know... be so domestic.”

You shrug, trying to play it off. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. This was a one-time deal.”

She finishes the soup slowly, savoring each bite like it’s some kind of rare delicacy. When she’s done, she sets the bowl aside and looks at you. “Thanks. Really. I feel better already.”

You wave her off, standing up and brushing your hands on your jeans. “No big deal. If anything happens, just shoot me a message.”

Her head tilts. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” you say plainly. “There’s still soup in the kitchen. You can heat it up later if you’re hungry. And like I said, message me if you need anything else.”

Her hand shoots out, grabbing yours. Her grip is soft but firm, and it stops you in your tracks. “Don’t go.”

You hesitate, looking down at her. “Winter...”

“Part of the treatment depends on you staying with me,” she says, her voice light but pleading. Her eyes—big, dark, and slightly glassy—fix on yours. It’s unfair. A total cheat code.

“Come on,” you sigh, trying to pull back. “I’ve already—”

“Please,” she interrupts, tugging you closer. “I get clingy when I’m sick. I need you here.”

You groan, exasperated but helpless. Her face is too damn convincing, her voice too soft. Before you know it, you’re sinking down onto the couch next to her, and she’s leaning into you, her arms sliding around your waist in a loose, warm hug.

“You're too dramatic,” you mutter, but your arms move on their own, wrapping around her small frame.

She lets out a quiet sound—half sigh, half happy grunt—and burrows into your chest like she’s been waiting all day for this. “Thank you,” she whispers.

You sigh again, defeated. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t milk it.”

She just smiles against you, holding on tighter. And somehow, you don’t mind.

—

It’s one of those nights where nothing feels rushed, where time slips by in lazy waves. You’re at one of your friends' house, slouched on his shitty couch that’s seen too many parties and not enough Febreze. A game’s on in the background, the volume turned low enough that no one’s paying attention, and the room smells like pizza grease and beer. Everyone’s in that late-night haze where conversation loops into nonsense—who’d win in a fight between Superman and a shark, or the ethics of hot dog toppings.

You’ve got a cold beer in your hand, halfway through your third or fourth, when your phone buzzes on the armrest.

It’s Winter. She had sent you other messages earlier, But you didn't see them. Or you chose not to.

For a second, you just stare at her name on the screen. It’s been a week since you hooked up at that party, and yeah, you’ve texted a bit. Casual stuff. Songs, memes, “what’s your favorite color” bullshit. You’ve been trying to keep it light. She’s cool, and that’s the problem. Cool girls are trouble. They make you think too much, want too much, and you’ve got enough on your plate without adding emotions to the mix.

Still, curiosity wins. You pick up the phone and open the message.

"What r u doing?"

Simple. Innocent. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. You could lie. Say you’re busy. But why bother?

"Chillin at a friend’s. What about you?"

Her reply comes quick.

"Thinking about you."

You blink at the screen, your brain short-circuiting for a second. The bottle in your hand feels heavier.

"Oh yeah?"

She doesn’t reply right away this time. It’s maybe two minutes of nothing, enough time for one of your friends to ask you a question about the game, for someone else to start laughing about God-knows-what. You nod along, distracted, and then your phone vibrates again.

"Yeah... You were really fun at the party. ;) I kinda wanna see you again."

Your heart does this stupid skip thing, and you tell yourself it’s just the beer. She’s probably just bored. Horny. You tell yourself to play it cool.

"Is that so?"

The next message hits different.

"Come over."

Two words. That’s it. And then, right after, the low blow: a picture.

It’s not outright explicit, but it doesn’t have to be. She’s in these tiny-ass pajamas—shorts so loose you can see the curve of her thigh, a top hanging off one shoulder like it’s about to slide off completely. Her blonde hair’s a little messy, like she’s been rolling around on her bed, and her lips are pouty, her eyes big and innocent, like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing.

She knows. She fucking knows.

Your friends are still talking, still laughing, oblivious to the war happening inside your head. You take another sip of your beer and stare at the photo.

"What’s the catch?"

She replies with another picture. This one’s worse—or better, depending on how you look at it. The shorts have ridden up higher, and her hand’s resting on her bare thigh, just teasing enough to make you swallow hard.

The caption?

"No catch. Just... us."

You’re toast. Game over. Whatever thin line of resistance you had is gone. You drain the rest of your beer in one long gulp and stand up, grabbing your jacket.

“Where you going?” one of your friends asks, looking up from his half-dead vape pen.

“New plans,” you say, keeping it vague, keeping it casual. No one needs to know.

You text Winter on your way out the door:

"On my way."

Her reply comes immediately, a simple:

"Good. Door’s unlocked. You already know the address."

And just like that, you’re heading into the night, her photos burned into your brain and your chest pounding like you’ve already lost a game you didn’t even know you were playing.

—

The elevator hums faintly, a low mechanical noise that fills the silence as you lean against the wall, hands shoved in your jacket pockets. The building smells faintly of floor cleaner and old carpet, and the dim light overhead flickers every few seconds. You glance at the number ticking upward, trying to focus on anything but the flood of memories crowding your head.

The party. You hadn’t planned on much. Show up, grab a drink, maybe stick around long enough to prove you weren’t a total recluse. You weren’t exactly in a social mood, but your friends had dragged you along anyway, saying something about getting you out of your funk. You weren’t even there ten minutes before you saw her. Kim Minjeong.

Winter, as she likes to be called.

She’d practically lit up the room. Blonde hair catching the crappy strobe lights, this magnetic energy that somehow felt both chaotic and easygoing at the same time. You’d been nursing your beer, trying to stay inconspicuous, when she caught your eye and grinned like she already knew all your secrets. It wasn’t long before she was laughing at some half-assed joke you made, her laugh contagious, her hand brushing your arm. Flirting came naturally, her words laced with playful teasing.

And then—your place. Her legs wrapped around you, her breathy moans filling the room as your name spilled from her lips. The way she pulled you closer like she couldn’t get enough, the way her nails dug into your back when you made her come. This story was repeated at another party, then another. And now...

The elevator dings, snapping you back to reality.

You step out into the hallway, the carpet muffling your steps as you make your way to her door. Your stomach twists—anticipation, nerves, maybe a bit of both. The memory of her last message sits heavy in your chest. "Door’s unlocked."

You knock lightly anyway, out of habit, before pushing the door open.

And then she’s there.

Winter launches herself at you like a bullet, arms flinging around your neck, her body colliding with yours so fast you almost stumble back. Your hands fly to her waist instinctively, steadying her, and she clings to you like you’ve been gone for months.

“You came,” she breathes. Her face is so close to yours, her warm breath brushing your cheek, her big eyes looking up at you like you’re the answer to every unspoken question.

“Yeah, I—”

Before you can finish, she presses her lips to yours.

Her kiss is needy, urgent, like she’s been waiting all night for this moment. Her hands move to your hair, fingers tangling in it as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. You tighten your grip on her waist, her small frame fitting against you perfectly. Her lips are soft and slightly sweet, probably from whatever she’d been drinking before you got here.

You walk her backward, barely breaking the kiss long enough to navigate, until you feel the edge of the couch hit your legs. You sit down, pulling her with you so she lands on your lap, her thighs straddling yours.

“Miss me?” she teases, her lips brushing against yours as she speaks.

“Not sure,” you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm, though your hands are already sliding down her sides. “Depends on how much trouble you’re planning to cause tonight.”

Her grin is wicked, her eyes sparkling as she cups your jaw. “A lot. Is that gonna be a problem?”

“Probably,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss her again.

She hums against your mouth, her fingers tracing along your jawline. “Good,” she whispers. “I like being your problem.”

You laugh, pulling back just enough to look at her. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Mm, you love it.”

You don’t respond, but the way your hands grip her hips says enough.

Her lips barely leave yours as she speaks, her words soft and breathy between kisses. “Why didn’t you answer my calls earlier?”

The question lands like a curveball, and for a second, you freeze. Her hands are still in your hair, her hips firmly planted on your lap, but she’s pulled back just enough to study your face. Her eyes are sharp, curious, and maybe a little accusing.

“I was busy,” you reply, trying to sound casual as your hands settle on her waist.

Winter narrows her eyes, her head tilting slightly like she’s not buying it. “Too busy to pick up the phone? Really?”

You sigh, leaning back into the couch, though your hands don’t leave her hips. “I answered your texts, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, after I sent about ten,” she counters, her lips twitching like she’s trying not to smile.

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. “More importantly, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

She seems to consider that for a moment, her fingers idly playing with the hair at the nape of your neck. “Okay, fine. You get a pass... this time.”

“Oh, thank you, Your Highness,” you tease, earning a playful swat on your shoulder.

Her grin softens, and then she tilts her head, giving you a look that’s somehow both sweet and devious. “So... you don’t secretly have a girlfriend or anything, right?”

The laugh escapes you before you can stop it, loud and genuine. “What? No. Where’d that even come from?”

Winter shrugs, but there’s a sly glint in her eye. “I don’t know... You’re kinda hot. Feels like you’d be someone’s boyfriend already.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Trust me, I’m not. You’re not sharing me with anyone.”

“Good,” she says, her tone a little too triumphant. She leans down again, her lips brushing yours. “Because I don’t like sharing.”

You chuckle against her mouth, your fingers giving her hips a light squeeze. “Noted.”

There’s a brief lull, the kind where the weight of the moment lingers, and then she pulls back slightly, her eyes locking on yours. “Hey,” she starts, her tone shifting to something softer. “Wanna get coffee tomorrow?”

You blink, thrown off by the sudden suggestion. “Coffee?”

“Yeah,” she says, sitting up a little straighter on your lap. “Like, a casual thing. No big deal.”

You hesitate, your mind running in circles. Coffee. That’s... date territory, isn’t it? Things between you two already feel fast, tangled, intense. The memory of her in your bed is still fresh, and now she’s talking about coffee like it’s nothing.

“Don’t you think we’re moving kinda fast?” you ask, your voice careful.

She tilts her head, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she smirks, her tone light and teasing. “It’s coffee, not a wedding. What’s the big deal?”

You exhale, shaking your head with a small laugh. “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“Pretty much,” she replies, her grin widening. “So, is that a yes?”

You stare at her for a moment, her face close to yours, her weight warm and solid on your lap. Something about her makes it impossible to say no.

“Fine,” you mutter, smirking. “But you’re buying.”

She laughs, leaning in to kiss you again. “Deal.”

Winter shifts on your lap, her legs straddling you more comfortably as she leans in close, her arms loosely draped around your shoulders. Her expression is playful, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in her eyes.

“So,” she starts, her voice soft and sweet, “tell me something about you. Something real. Like... what do you do for work?”

You smirk, leaning back into the couch. “What, now you’re interviewing me?”

“Yep,” she says with a grin. “Can’t just make out with a stranger all the time. Gotta know who I’m dealing with.”

You let out a breath. “Alright. Well, I just left college not too long ago. Now I’m working this boring office job—data entry and spreadsheets. Real thrilling stuff.”

Winter tilts her head, her blonde hair falling over one shoulder. “Office job, huh? So you’re, like, a suit-and-tie kind of guy now?”

“More like khakis and button-downs. Nothing fancy.”

“Hmm,” she muses. “Doesn’t really suit you.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, well, it pays the bills. What about you? What do you do?”

Winter’s smile widens, and she shrugs a little too casually. “I’m a stylist. Hair, makeup, fashion—the whole package.”

“Wait, really?” you ask, your eyebrows shooting up.

“Why’s that so surprising?” she teases, leaning in closer, her face inches from yours.

“I don’t know. I just didn’t peg you for that. But I guess it makes sense. You’ve got the vibe.”

“Thanks,” she says, clearly pleased with the compliment. Then, out of nowhere, she drops the bombshell: “Oh, and I already knew you before that party.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” she says. “We went to the same college.”

“Are you serious?” You sit up straighter, your hands tightening slightly on her hips.

Winter nods, biting her lip like she’s trying not to laugh at your shock. “Yep. Saw you around campus all the time.”

“Why didn’t you ever talk to me?”

Her cheeks flush slightly, her confidence faltering just a bit. “I was shy back then. Plus, you were always surrounded by other girls.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “I wasn’t surrounded by girls.”

“You were,” she insists, grinning. “And I thought you were cute, so I didn’t want to deal with the competition.”

You lean in slightly, your voice dropping. “Well, I thought you were beautiful at the party, you know. Everything about you—your clothes, your hair, your smile. You kind of lit up the whole place.”

Winter’s smile softens, and she looks at you like you just handed her the world. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” you reply firmly. “It’s the truth.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breaths mingling.

“Do you think about me after we had sex? I mean, whe I leave?” she asks, her voice quieter now.

You pause, the question hanging heavily between you. Instead of answering, you turn it back on her. “Do you think about me?”

Her response is immediate. “Of course I do.”

You blink, a little taken aback by her honesty.

“I kept thinking about our kiss,” she continues, her hands sliding down to rest on your chest. “About your hands on me. The way you were so... affectionate and strong at the same time. And how mysterious you are. Like, you give just enough to make me want more.”

Her words wash over you, leaving you almost speechless. You swallow hard, her gaze locking onto yours, and before you can stop yourself, the truth spills out.

“I thought about you too,” you admit. “Just a little. The way you moaned in my ear, soft and slow. The way you pulled me closer, like you couldn’t get enough. And...” You trail off, your hands sliding down to cup her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “I couldn’t stop thinking about this tight little ass of yours.”

Winter lets out a small gasp, her cheeks flushing red, but the sly grin creeping across her face tells you she likes it.

“Is that so?” she teases, her voice trembling slightly as she rocks her hips against your hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss her again. “It’s burned into my brain.”

Her laugh is breathy and soft against your lips as she kisses you back, her arms wrapping tighter around your neck. “Good. That’s exactly what I wanted.”

Winter’s hips shift subtly in your lap, her thighs squeezing against yours like she’s testing how far she can push you. Her breath is warm against your neck, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as she whispers, “Show me how much Daddy missed me.”

Your grip on her tightens instinctively, your hands digging into the curve of her ass. Something about the way she says it, soft but deliberate, ignites a spark in your chest and sends it straight to your groin.

“You’re gonna regret saying that,” you murmur.

She doesn’t respond with words, just tilts her head, offering her neck like a challenge. You lean in, your teeth grazing her skin, and she lets out a quiet gasp, her fingers tangling in your hair to pull you closer.

Your touch grows firmer, your hands roaming her body like you’re staking a claim. Winter notices—of course, she does—and the sly smile spreading across her lips only feeds the fire.

“Take this off,” you mutter, your fingers toying with the hem of her top.

Winter doesn’t hesitate, raising her arms obediently, her gaze fixed on yours. The top slides up and over her head, revealing her bare chest underneath. No bra, just smooth, pale skin and her small, almost flat breasts. Her nipples are soft, pink against the lighter tone of her skin, and for a moment, all you can do is take her in.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your voice thick with something between awe and desire.

Winter blushes slightly but doesn’t look away, her confidence unwavering as she leans closer, her hands resting on your shoulders. “Well?” she teases, her voice softer now. “Aren’t you gonna touch me?”

You don’t need to be told twice. Your lips find her chest, warm and delicate against your mouth. You kiss along the curve of her small breasts, your hands sliding up her sides until your thumbs brush against the soft skin beneath her nipples. Winter sighs, her head tilting back slightly, her fingers tightening on your shoulders.

You take your time, your lips closing around one nipple, kissing it before flicking your tongue over the sensitive peak. Her skin tastes clean, warm, slightly sweet, and you can feel her chest rise and fall against your mouth as her breathing quickens.

“Oh,” she murmurs, her voice soft but needy. “That feels so good.”

Your hand moves to her other breast, your fingers gently teasing the nipple as you kiss and suck on the first. Winter shifts in your lap, her thighs pressing tighter against yours as she arches into your touch.

“God, I missed this,” you mutter against her skin, your lips dragging across her chest to give her other nipple the same attention.

Winter lets out a soft, breathy laugh, her fingers slipping into your hair. “You're making it hard to believe that you were thinking about me just a little bit.”

You look up at her, your lips brushing her skin as you smirk. “Maybe I've been thinking about you too much.”

Your mouth trails upward, leaving her chest for her soft, exposed neck. Winter tilts her head to the side, offering it to you like it’s the easiest decision she’s ever made. You kiss along her skin, slow at first, testing, and then your lips part, and you suck gently.

Her breath catches. “Oh, fuck,” she whispers.

You grin against her neck, dragging your tongue along the spot where you know her pulse is fluttering wildly. “I’m gonna leave marks,” you murmur, your voice low and rough. “So you don’t forget me.”

Winter’s fingers slip from your hair to your shoulders, her nails digging into your shirt-covered skin. “Do it,” she pleads, her voice breathy and desperate. “Please, daddy, mark me.”

Something about the way she says it sends a shiver down your spine. You latch onto her neck, sucking harder this time, your teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her gasp. She writhes in your lap, her hips shifting against yours as soft moans spill from her lips.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” she murmurs, her voice trembling with pleasure.

You move to a new spot, just below her jawline, and suck again, harder this time. Winter whimpers, her hands slipping under your shirt. Her touch is cool and electric against your bare skin, her little nails dragging lightly at first and then scratching down your back.

“Shit,” you hiss, the sting from her nails mixing with the heat of her body against yours.

She smirks, her confidence peeking through as she lifts your shirt higher, exposing more of your skin. “If you’re gonna mark me,” she says, her voice soft but teasing, “I’m marking you too.”

Her nails dig in harder this time, her hands roaming your back and sides with purpose. You feel the faint burn of each scratch, and it only makes you want her more.

You pull back just enough to look at her, her flushed cheeks, her lips slightly parted, her neck now adorned with faint red marks from your mouth. “You’re trouble,” you mutter, your hands sliding back to her hips, pulling her tighter against you.

Winter grins, biting her lip as she looks down at you. “Your trouble,” she says, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

“Maybe,” you admit, leaning in to suck on another spot just below her ear. Her moan this time is louder, her nails dragging down your chest in response.

Your hand slides down Winter’s side, sneaking under the hem of her loose shorts. The moment your fingers brush against her panties, you freeze.

“Shit,” you mutter, pulling back slightly to look at her. “You’re soaking wet already?”

Winter’s cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look embarrassed—if anything, she looks proud, biting her lip as she gazes down at you. “Just from your kisses,” she whispers, her voice soft and teasing.

You raise an eyebrow, your fingers dipping further, sliding over the slick heat of her pussy through the thin fabric of her panties. “You’re telling me this is all because of me?”

She lets out a soft gasp, her hips shifting against your hand. “It’s because I’ve been thinking about you. All night. You don’t know what you do to me.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, your thumb brushing against her clit through the damp fabric. Her reaction is instant—a sharp intake of breath, her nails digging into your shoulders as she presses closer.

You lean in, biting her lower lip just enough to make her whimper. The faint taste of her cherry lip gloss lingers on your tongue, sweet and sticky, and you pull back with a smirk. “You’ve been thinking about me, huh? Let’s see just how much.”

Grabbing her waist, you lift her slightly, laying her back on the couch. Winter looks up at you with wide, eager eyes, her breathing quick as your hands slide to her shorts.

“Let’s get these off,” you say, your voice rough.

She lifts her hips obediently, letting you pull the shorts down her legs. The thin fabric catches for a moment on her thighs before slipping away completely, leaving her in nothing but a tiny pair of panties, already darkened with wetness.

“Goddamn,” you murmur, tossing the shorts aside. “I missed this. Missed the way you taste.”

Winter squirms under your gaze, her lips parting as she whispers, “Then come and get me.”

You take off your jacket and throw it on the floor before you push her legs apart, pale and soft under your hands, guiding her closer to the edge of the couch. You remove her panties in one smooth motion. The sight of her drives you insane—her pink folds glistening, practically begging for your tongue. You kneel between her legs, hands sliding up her thighs, your thumbs brushing just close enough to tease.

“Patience,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss the inside of her thigh. Her skin is warm under your lips, the faint scent of her arousal filling your senses as you trail kisses along her thigh, inching closer to where she needs you most.

Winter moans softly, her fingers tangling in your hair. “Don’t tease me,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

You smirk, your lips brushing against her skin. “But you like it, don’t you? Makes it even better when I finally give you what you want.”

She whimpers, her hips shifting toward your mouth. “Please, daddy,” she breathes. “I need you.”

You grin against her skin, dragging your tongue up the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, savoring every shiver and gasp. “You’ll get me,” you murmur, your voice low. “But I’m gonna take my time first.”

Your fingers glide lower, grazing her entrance, and the slick heat against your skin makes your cock throb. “You’re dripping, Winter,” you murmur, teasing her as your fingers just barely slip inside before pulling back.

She arches her back slightly, her hips chasing your hand, desperate for more. “Please,” she whispers, her voice soft and breathy.

“Please what?” you ask, your tone laced with mock innocence. You drag your fingers through her wetness, just enough to make her gasp, but you don’t give her what she wants.

Winter whines, her nails digging into the couch as her thighs twitch against your shoulders. “Please... suck me. I need it,” she begs, her voice trembling.

“Need it?” You smirk, your fingers circling her clit lightly, watching the way her body reacts to every touch. “I don’t think you’ve begged enough.”

Her head falls back against the couch, and she lets out a frustrated moan. “Daddy, please,” she pleads, her voice breaking. “I’ll be good. Just—please. I need your mouth on me.”

“Better,” you murmur, leaning in until your lips are just a breath away from her. You can feel the heat radiating off her pussy, the scent of her arousal making your head spin. “But I want to hear you beg like you really mean it.”

Her hips buck again, and she whimpers, her voice desperate now. “Please, daddy, please suck me. I need your tongue. I need to feel you. I’ll do anything, just—fuck, please!”

That’s all it takes to break you.

“Good girl,” you mutter before diving in.

Your tongue runs flat against her slit, slow and deliberate, savoring the way she shudders under you. The taste of her—sweet, salty, perfect—hits your tongue, and it’s almost overwhelming. You groan against her, your hands gripping her thighs to keep her open as you suck gently on her swollen clit.

“Oh my God,” Winter gasps, her back arching off the couch. “Fuck, yes—just like that.”

You don’t stop, your tongue swirling around her clit before dipping lower to tease her entrance. She’s so wet, the slickness coating your lips and chin as you lap at her like you can’t get enough. Her moans grow louder, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you closer.

“Fuck, daddy,” she moans, her hips grinding against your mouth. “You’re so good at this—oh, fuck—don’t stop.”

You hum against her, the vibration making her cry out. Your tongue plunges into her, tasting her from the inside, while your thumb comes up to rub slow circles on her clit.

“Shit, you taste so good,” you mutter, your voice muffled against her. “I could do this all fucking night.”

Her breath catches, and her moans turn into desperate little whimpers. “Oh, fuck—I’m so close, please, don’t stop, please—”

Her begging drives you wild, your tongue glides along Winter’s folds, teasing her clit as you feel her squirm beneath your touch. But as much as her gasps and whimpers fuel your hunger, you decide to take it further. Your fingers slip down between her legs, sliding easily over her soaked pussy.

“Fuck,” you murmur, glancing up at her flushed face. “You’re so wet, Winter. You always get this messy just thinking about me?”

She nods weakly, her lips parting to answer, but all that comes out is a shaky moan as you press one finger inside her. The heat and tightness make your cock ache, and when you add a second finger, you’re rewarded with a sharp cry that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You remember last time?” you ask, curling your fingers inside her, finding that spot that made her melt before. “That sweet cream you gave me? I want it again.”

Winter’s head falls back against the couch, her hips bucking into your hand as your fingers pump into her. “Oh my God,” she moans, her voice high and needy. “Daddy, I—fuck—I’ll give it to you, just don’t stop!”

“Good girl,” you growl, your pace quickening. Your fingers thrust into her slick pussy, the sound obscene, wet, and fucking addictive. You can feel her walls tightening around you, and as you pull your fingers out slightly, you watch as a thin, creamy slickness clings to them.

“There it is,” you say, your voice dripping with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanted.”

Winter’s face is a mess of pleasure, her moans coming louder and more desperate as you keep going. “Oh, fuck, daddy, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” you cut her off, leaning in to suck on her clit while your fingers keep working her. “You’re gonna cum for me, Winter. I want all of it.”

She cries out, her nails digging into the couch as her thighs tremble around your head. “I’m close—fuck, I’m so close!”

You redouble your efforts, your tongue swirling over her swollen clit while your fingers curl and thrust, hitting that spot inside her with relentless precision. Her moans turn into frantic gasps, her body tensing as the pressure builds.

“Come on, baby,” you murmur against her, your breath hot on her sensitive skin. “Give it to me. I want to taste all of you.”

Her body arches off the couch as she lets out a broken scream, her pussy clenching hard around your fingers as she cums. You keep going, licking and sucking at her clit, swallowing every drop of her as her juices coat your tongue. Your fingers slow but don’t stop, drawing out her orgasm until she’s shaking and gasping for breath.

Finally, you pull back, your lips and chin glistening with her arousal. Winter looks at you through half-lidded eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to catch her breath.

“Fuck,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and trembling. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

You grin, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you meet her gaze. “Told you I missed your taste.”

Her laugh is soft and breathy, and she reaches out to pull you closer.

“And I missed you,” she murmurs. “Every fucking inch of you.”

You lean up, your lips crashing against Winter’s in a desperate, heated kiss. She doesn’t hesitate, kissing you back with just as much intensity, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you closer. Her taste lingers on your tongue, sweet and salty, and when her lips part to deepen the kiss, you can feel her shiver against you.

Between kisses, her breathless voice cuts through. “I need you,” she whispers, her tone thick with want. “I need your cock, daddy.”

Her words are gasoline on the fire already burning in you. You tug your shirt off over your head, tossing it aside. Your hands drop to your belt, unbuckling it with quick, impatient movements. Winter watches you, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling as she stares at the bulge straining against your underwear. The sound of your zipper fills the room as you shove your pants down, kicking off your shoes and stepping out of everything, leaving only your boxers.

Your cock is rock-hard, the fabric damp where precum has seeped through. Winter’s hand reaches out, slender fingers grazing the outline of you through the thin material.

“Fuck,” Winter whispers. She slides her hand inside your waistband, freeing you in one swift motion.

The moment your cock is out, her small hand wraps around it, stroking you slowly at first, her touch firm but teasing. Her thumb glides over the head, spreading the wetness there as her lips crash against yours again.

“You’re so fucking hard,” she murmurs against your mouth, her strokes growing bolder.

“For you,” you growl, biting at her lower lip as your hips thrust lightly into her hand.

Her grip tightens just enough to make you groan, but you pull back, grabbing her wrists to stop her before this ends too soon.

“Turn around,” you command.

Winter obeys instantly, her movements eager as she twists to lie on her belly on the couch. You guide her legs up, positioning her so her knees rest on the arm of the couch, her ass raised in the air and her thighs trembling.

The sight of her like this—completely vulnerable, her pale skin flushed, her pussy glistening and ready—makes your breath hitch. You step behind her, standing on the floor, your cock twitching as you grip her hips, lining yourself up.

“Beg for it,” you demand.

Winter lets out a soft whine, her head turning to glance back at you. “Please, daddy,” she starts, her voice shaking. “Please fuck me. I need you so bad. I need your cock inside me.”

“That’s not good enough,” you growl, gripping her ass and squeezing hard.

Her voice grows louder, more desperate. “Please, daddy, I’ll be so good for you. I’ll take all of you. Just—fuck, please! I need you to fill me up. Don’t make me wait anymore.”

You smirk, the raw need in her voice sending a shiver down your spine. “That’s better,” you mutter, your hands sliding up her thighs as you position yourself.

“You’re gonna feel every inch of me, baby,” you promise, your voice dark and full of intent. “And you’re gonna love it.”

You don’t bother teasing. Gripping Winter’s soft hips firmly, you position yourself at her entrance, the slick heat of her pussy already pulling you in. And then you push forward, slamming into her in one smooth, powerful thrust.

Her gasp is sharp, a mix of surprise and raw pleasure. “Oh, fuck!” she cries, her body jerking forward on the couch.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, pausing just for a second as her pussy clenches tight around you. “You’re fucking tight, Winter. So goddamn tight.”

She moans in response, her head turning slightly to glance back at you. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips parted, and her eyes are already hazy with need. “Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice breathy. “Fuck me harder. I need it.”

“Careful what you wish for,” you growl, pulling back and slamming into her again. Her cry of pleasure spurs you on, and soon you’re setting a brutal pace, your hips slamming against her ass with every thrust.

Her pussy grips you like a vice, impossibly tight and hot, and each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through you. You grab a handful of her ass, squeezing the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks as you drive into her over and over.

“Shit,” you groan, your voice rough as your hips snap forward. “You take it so fucking good. This tight little pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Winter moans, her voice high and needy. “Yes, yes—don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Her hands claw at the cushions, her body rocking with every thrust. You lean over her slightly, one hand gripping her hip while the other slides up her back, pressing her down into the couch. The new angle has her crying out, her pussy clenching even tighter around you.

“Fuck, Winter,” you mutter, your breath ragged. “You’re so goddamn wet. So tight. Feels like you’re trying to milk my cock.”

Her moans grow louder, more frantic, each one making your cock throb inside her. “More,” she whimpers, her voice breaking. “I need more. Please, fuck me harder. Use me.”

You oblige without hesitation, your grip on her hips tightening as you pound into her mercilessly. The sound of your hips slapping against her ass fills the room, mixing with her desperate moans and your own rough grunts.

“You love this, don’t you?” you growl. “Getting fucked like this, bent over and taking it. You’re such a good little slut for me.”

Her response is immediate, a loud, breathless moan as her back arches. “Yes! I love it—I fucking love it!”

Your thrusts don’t falter, hips slamming into Winter’s ass with relentless force, the wet, filthy sounds of her tight pussy taking you driving you insane. Her body shakes with every thrust, her moans coming louder and louder, each one dripping with desperate need.

And then you glance down at her ass—small, pale, and bouncing every time you slam into her. The sight sends a wicked idea flashing through your mind, and without thinking twice, you bring your hand down hard against her cheek.

The smack echoes in the room, and Winter cries out, the sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp of shock. “Fuck!” she whimpers, her head snapping up as her back arches.

You grin, your hand tingling from the impact. “You like that?” you growl, squeezing the soft, warm flesh you just marked.

“Yes,” she moans, her voice high and breathless. “Do it again.”

Your hand comes down again, harder this time, the sound sharper, and Winter’s reaction is immediate. She moans loudly, pushing her ass back toward you like the filthy little slut she is. “More,” she begs, her voice trembling. “Please, spank your good girl’s ass. I need it.”

“Yeah?” you say, your tone low and mocking as your hand rubs over the red print blooming on her cheek. “You need me to mark this pretty little ass of yours?”

“Yes,” she gasps, writhing beneath you. “Mark me. Use me. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

The words flip a switch in you, and your hand comes down again, and again, each slap leaving a red handprint against her pale skin. Winter cries out every time, her moans turning to shameless, wanton whimpers as she pushes back into your hand, her pussy clenching tighter around your cock.

“Look at you,” you taunt, your voice thick with satisfaction. “Bent over and begging to get your ass spanked like a little whore.”

“Because I am,” she whimpers, her voice trembling. “I’m your little whore. Please, don’t stop. Spank me. Fuck me.”

Your hand comes down one more time, the slap ringing out, and Winter practically screams, her hips jerking forward before slamming back against you. Her ass is warm under your palm, the flesh reddened and glowing, and you can’t help but grab it, squeezing hard as you bury yourself inside her again.

“God, you’re such a slut,” you growl, your grip on her hips almost bruising. “Taking my cock so fucking well. You love being dominated, don’t you? Being used?”

“Yes,” she cries, her voice breaking as she gasps for air. “I fucking love it. I love the way you use me.”

Her pussy grips you like a vice, her walls fluttering around you as you pound into her, each thrust sending shockwaves through both of you. But neither of you is there yet—this is just the beginning, and you’re nowhere near done with her.

Your thrusts are relentless, Winter’s high-pitched screams filling the room, each one tearing through you like fuel on a fire. Her once-pale ass is now completely red, the heat radiating from her skin as you give her one last hard slap. The sound echoes, and she cries out, her body trembling beneath you.

“Get up,” you order.

Winter doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even question you. She pushes herself up from the couch, her legs shaky as she stands, looking over her shoulder at you with wide, obedient eyes. Her chest rises and falls, her flushed body trembling slightly as she waits for your next move.

You don’t give her time to think. Grabbing her by the waist, you lift her with ease, her small frame light in your hands. Her arms instinctively wrap around your neck, and her legs lock around your waist, pulling herself closer to you.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your cock brushing against her slick entrance as you position her. “So fucking obedient. You make me so goddamn hard.”

Her breath hitches, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “Anything for you, daddy. Use me however you want.”

“Fuck, Winter,” you growl, the words making your cock twitch.

You push into her slowly, her wetness making it easy, but her tightness still squeezes you. Both of you moan at the same time, the sound mingling in the air as you bury yourself inside her.

Her voice is soft, trembling. “Oh my God... you’re so deep, daddy.”

“That’s because you’re made for me,” you reply, your voice low and rough as your hands grip her thighs. “Every inch of this tight little pussy is mine.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, her nails digging into your shoulders as you start to move. You lift her up, her body sliding along your cock, slow at first, letting her feel every inch as you fill her completely.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your neck as she moans softly in your ear. “I love being your fucktoy.”

You groan, your grip on her tightening as you pick up the pace, moving her up and down on your cock like she’s nothing more than a doll in your hands. Her moans grow louder, each one hitting your ear and making your cock throb inside her.

“Yeah, that’s it,” you mutter, your voice thick with lust. “Moan for me. Let me hear how much you love being fucked like this.”

“I love it,” she whimpers, her hips moving in time with yours, her voice high and needy. “I love the way you use me. You make me feel so good—so full.”

“You’re my good girl,” you growl, biting at her neck as you fuck her harder. “And it’s my fucking job to ruin you.”

Her cry is almost a scream, her nails dragging down your back as she clings to you. “Yes,” she moans, her voice breaking. “Ruin me, daddy. Fuck me however you want. I’m yours.”

Your grip tightens on Winter’s thighs as you start pounding into her harder, your movements raw and unforgiving. Her gasps turn into high-pitched moans, her breath hitching with every thrust as her body clings to yours.

“This what you wanted so bad?” you growl, your voice rough against her ear. “You called me over just to get fucked like this?”

“Yes,” she cries out. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I needed your cock—I needed you to fuck me. Make me cum, please!”

“Fuck, you’re so naughty,” you growl, biting her neck lightly as your hips snap forward, driving her down onto your cock with brutal force. “A little slut, calling me in the middle of the night just to get used like this.”

“Yes!” she moans, her voice breaking, her hips grinding against you. “I’m your little slut—I love it! I love being your whore!”

Her words fuel something dark and primal in you, and you slam her down harder, her body bouncing against yours like a rag doll. “Yeah?” you snarl, your tone dripping with dominance. “Then be a good slut and cum on my cock. Right fucking now.”

Winter’s cries rise into screams as you adopt a brutal rhythm, your hands gripping her ass and thighs tightly, throwing her body onto your cock like she’s nothing more than your personal toy. Her moans are loud, desperate, raw, and you can feel her body trembling, teetering on the edge.

“Cum,” you command, your voice firm and unrelenting. “Cum for me, Winter. Now.”

Her body stiffens, her head snapping back as she lets out a long, broken scream. Her pussy clenches hard around your cock, her thighs quaking as waves of pleasure crash through her.

“Fuck!” she cries, her hands gripping you tighter, her nails digging into your back. Her entire body convulses, her moans turning into incoherent whimpers as her orgasm consumes her.

You lean in, attacking her neck with kisses and light bites, your breath hot against her skin. Her eyes roll back, her lips parted in silent screams, and you hold her tightly, keeping her steady as her body jerks uncontrollably in your arms.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” you murmur against her skin, your tone softer now. “My good girl. You did so good for me.”

Winter’s breathing is ragged, her body limp in your arms as she comes down from the high. You shift your grip, holding her gently, your lips brushing along her jawline and cheeks, peppering her with soft kisses.

“You’re amazing,” you whisper, your hands smoothing over her back. “You deserved every second of that.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, her face burying in your neck as she clings to you. “You’re gonna kill me,” she murmurs, her voice hoarse but full of satisfaction.

“Not yet,” you reply with a smirk, kissing the top of her head. “I’m not done with you.”

Slowly, you lower her to the ground, setting her on her knees in front of you. She goes willingly, her legs trembling but obedient, her wide eyes looking up at you as she licks her lips.

Winter smiles, her voice soft and teasing. “Ready for more, sir?”

You look down at Winter, kneeling in front of you like the perfect little slut she loves to be. Her blonde hair is messy, her cheeks flushed, and her lips slightly parted, still red from all the biting and kissing. She looks wrecked, and it’s fucking beautiful.

“Yes,” you say, your voice low and full of hunger. “I’m ready for more. But the question is—are you?”

She nods eagerly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as her eyes flicker down to your cock. It’s still rock hard, slick with her arousal, twitching slightly as you step closer.

You grab the base, stroking it slowly as you guide it to her face. The swollen tip brushes against her soft cheek, and her breath hitches, her hands coming up to rest on your thighs for balance. You drag your cock across her flushed skin, over her delicate jawline, and finally against her lips.

“You see this?” you murmur, smirking as you tap the head of your cock against her mouth. “This is what you do to me, Winter. You’ve got me so fucking hard, and now I’m thinking about marking this pretty little face of yours.”

Her eyes flutter shut for a moment, a quiet whimper escaping her lips as she presses a soft kiss to the head of your cock. “Do it,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need. “Please, cum on my face. I want it. I want you to mark me.”

Her words send a jolt straight to your core, but you’re not letting her off that easy. You grip her chin gently, tilting her face up to meet your gaze. “If you want it so bad,” you murmur, your thumb brushing over her lower lip, “you’re gonna have to earn it. Make me cum, Winter. Show me how much you want it.”

She doesn’t waste a second. Her hands wrap around your shaft, small and delicate against your thick cock, and she leans in, her tongue flicking out to tease the head. You let out a low groan, watching as she works, her eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“Good girl,” you mutter, your hand resting on the back of her head. “Show me what that pretty little mouth can do.”

Winter’s lips part, and she takes you in, her tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down your length. Her mouth is warm and wet, and the suction she creates has your knees threatening to buckle. She starts slow, her movements deliberate as she takes more of you, her hands stroking what her mouth can’t reach.

“Fuck, that’s it,” you groan, your fingers tangling in her hair. “You look so fucking good like this, Winter. Taking me so well.”

She moans around you, the vibration making you curse under your breath. Her head bobs, her pace quickening as she gets more confident, more eager. Spit drips down her chin, her hands twisting at the base of your cock, and her soft little whimpers drive you closer to the edge.

“Shit, baby,” you mutter, your voice rough. “You’re so fucking good at this. Keep going—just like that.”

Her response is to take you even deeper, her throat constricting around you as she gags slightly, but she doesn’t stop. Her nails dig into your thighs, her moans growing louder, and you can feel yourself getting dangerously close.

“Fuck, Winter,” you groan, your grip on her hair tightening. “You’re gonna make me cum all over that pretty face of yours. Is that what you want? To be covered in me?”

She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips slick and swollen. “Yes,” she gasps, stroking you with both hands. “I want it so bad. Please, cum for me, daddy. Mark me. I’ll take all of it.”

Her words are your undoing, and you feel the tension coiling tight in your core as she wraps her lips around you again, sucking you with even more determination.

Winter’s lips work over your cock like she was born to do it, her soft, pink mouth gliding along your length while her tongue swirls and flicks against the sensitive underside. Every movement sends jolts of pleasure coursing through you, making it harder to keep your composure.

Her eyes glance up, locking onto yours, and fuck—it’s like she knows exactly what that look does to you. Wide, innocent, framed by her messy blonde hair, and full of something sinful. The combination of her gaze and the wet, obscene sound of her sucking you is almost too much.

“Goddamn, Winter,” you groan, your head falling back for a moment as you let yourself get lost in it. “You’re so fucking good at this. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

She doesn’t. She doubles down, taking you deeper, her lips stretching around your cock as her tongue continues to tease. You can feel her saliva dripping down, making a slick mess of her chin, but she doesn’t seem to care. If anything, she moans softly, the vibrations shooting straight through you.

“Fuck,” you hiss, your fingers tightening in her hair. You glance down, and the sight of her small hands now cupping and massaging your balls makes your knees nearly give out. “Shit, baby, that’s... that’s so fucking good.”

Winter’s only response is another moan, muffled around your cock. She speeds up, her hands stroking what her mouth can’t reach, her tongue flicking over your tip with each pass. You can feel the pressure building in your gut, that telltale tightness letting you know you’re close.

“Fuck, Winter, stop,” you growl, pulling her off your cock with a wet pop. You’re panting, your cock twitching in your hand as you take a step back.

She looks up at you, her lips swollen and slick with spit, her chest heaving. “Why’d you stop me?” she asks, her voice sweet and breathless.

“Because,” you say, gripping your cock and stroking it slowly, trying to hold back. “I’m gonna make a fucking mess of your face, and I need you to beg for it.”

Her eyes light up, and she leans forward slightly, her hands resting on her thighs. “Please,” she says, her voice soft and needy. “I want it. I want you to cum on me, daddy. I need it. Please, baby, please.”

“Shit,” you groan, the sound of her sweet little pleas making it impossible to hold back.

You stroke yourself faster, the slickness of her spit making it easy as you aim at her gorgeous face. Winter watches you, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, her expression full of anticipation.

“Fuck,” you growl, the tension snapping as you feel yourself tip over the edge. “Here it comes, baby. Take it all.”

The first hot spurt of cum hits her cheek, followed by another and another, painting her face in thick, messy streaks. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move—she just sits there, taking every drop like the good little slut she loves to be.

“Fuck, Winter,” you mutter, your strokes slowing as the last few ropes of cum land on her lips and chin.

Her lips curl into this filthy little smile, and she doesn’t waste a second. Her fingers are already working, sliding through the mess, gathering your cum like it’s something precious, smearing it across her cheeks, her forehead, even brushing it down to her neck. She spreads it out deliberately, almost artfully, until her face glistens with it, sticky and marked like she wants everyone to know exactly what she’s done. Exactly who she belongs to.

Her tongue flicks out, tasting the corner of her lips, humming softly as if savoring the flavor. She's in no rush to get clean, it's like Winter feels like she doesn't need to—she just leans into the mess, into the filth, wearing it like a badge of honor.

"You taste so fucking good, daddy,” she murmurs, her voice low and thick with satisfaction. Her eyes stay locked on yours as she drags her fingers to her lips, sucking one clean with a soft, wet pop. She grins wider, teeth flashing. "I could eat this off me all night.”

You smirk, brushing a thumb across her cheek to gather some of the cum she missed. “Clean me up,” you say, stepping closer and holding your cock in front of her mouth.

Winter leans in without hesitation, her tongue flicking out to lick along your length, cleaning every inch of you with slow, deliberate strokes. She takes you into her mouth one last time, sucking gently, her eyes fluttering shut as if savoring the moment.

“Good girl,” you murmur, stroking her hair as she finishes. “You’re fucking perfect.”

—

The TV hums softly in the background, some late-night infomercial filling the quiet, but you’re not watching it. Your eyes are on Winter, her head resting on your lap as she sleeps. Her soft blonde hair falls over her face, her lips slightly parted, her breathing slow and steady. She looks so peaceful like this, curled up on the couch under your hand.

You stroke her hair absentmindedly, your mind drifting. It’s not the first time you’ve been like this with her, and that’s what’s messing you up. You think back to that night at her apartment—the way she kissed you like she’d been waiting her whole life for it, the way she moaned your name, the way she asked you to mark her, the way she fell asleep in your arms afterward.

And then, the morning after. That was unusual for you. Normally, you’d wake up, maybe share some awkward small talk, and then you’d be gone. No texts, no calls, just a memory and a closed chapter. But with Winter...

You remember how she clung to you that morning, burying her face in your chest, refusing to let you go. How you didn’t mind staying in bed with her, your arms wrapped around her, her warmth sinking into you. It was so... different.

Now here you are again. Winter on your lap, completely comfortable with you being here. And you, sitting here like an idiot, unable to tear yourself away. If only she wasn’t so cute, so sweet, so... fucking irresistible.

You sigh quietly and glance at the clock. It’s late, and you know you shouldn’t stay. Carefully, you slide your hand out from under her head and shift her onto the couch, laying her down gently. She murmurs something in her sleep but doesn’t wake up. You grab a blanket from the armrest and drape it over her, tucking it around her small frame.

You pause for a moment, just looking at her. God, she’s beautiful. Too beautiful.

Shaking your head, you grab your jacket and head for the door. You’ve got your hand on the doorknob when you hear a soft, groggy voice behind you.

“Where are you going?”

You freeze, turning to see Winter sitting up on the couch, her eyes heavy with sleep but full of confusion. She looks at you like a child caught waking up to an empty room, her expression tugging at something deep inside you.

“I was just leaving,” you say quietly. “You were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.”

She gets up slowly, the blanket falling off her shoulders as she shuffles over to you. Her arms wrap around your waist, her cheek pressing against your chest. “Stay,” she murmurs, her voice soft but firm.

You hesitate, your hands hovering awkwardly at your sides. “Winter...”

“Why do you always run away?” she asks, her voice muffled against your shirt.

“I’m not running away,” you say, though it sounds weak even to your own ears.

She pulls back slightly, looking up at you with those big, questioning eyes. “Yes, you are. You did it the first time, and the second, and—God, you always do this. Why?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t... I don’t do relationships, Winter. That’s not my thing. I’m not trying to hurt you—I just...”

“Just what?” she presses. “What are you so afraid of?”

You hesitate, the words caught in your throat. Finally, you take a deep breath and say, “Maybe I like you more than I should. And I don’t know how to deal with that.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and you feel her grip on your shirt tighten.

“Relationships are messy,” you continue, your voice low. “They’re complicated. And I’m not good at that shit. I don’t want to fuck this up, Winter. I don’t want to fuck you up.”

She blinks at you, her expression softening. “You’re not fucking me up,” she says quietly. “You’re... you’re making me happy. And I think I make you happy too. Or am I wrong?”

You look at her, the vulnerability in her eyes. “You do,” you admit. “You make me feel things I don't want to feel, Winter.”

“Then stay,” she whispers. “Just for tonight. Stop running, just... stay with me.”

Her words hang in the air, and for once, you don’t have a reason to say no. Letting out a heavy sigh, you throw your jacket back on the couch and wrap your arms around her and pulling her close, resting your chin on top of her head.

“Alright,” you say quietly. “I’ll stay.”

Winter hugs you tighter, her body relaxing against yours. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice soft and full of relief.

Winter tugs you back to the couch, her small hands wrapped around your wrist as she pulls you down beside her. The blanket slips off the couch as she curls up next to you, her head resting against your shoulder.

“How’re you feeling?” you ask, glancing down at her.

“Better,” she murmurs, her voice soft and still a little groggy. “Just a little cold.”

You tilt your head, your brow furrowing slightly. “Want me to grab you something from your closet? A hoodie or something?”

She shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips as she looks up at you. “No. You’re already enough to warm me up.”

You roll your eyes, though the corner of your mouth twitches upward. “You’re so clingy.”

“And that's why you like me,” she shoots back, leaning into you a little more.

You sigh, letting the moment settle for a bit, but then Winter shifts, sitting up slightly to face you. There’s something in her eyes now—a mix of curiosity and determination that instantly puts you on edge.

“So,” she starts, her tone deceptively casual. “Why are you so anti-relationship?”

“Winter…” you warn, already feeling the weight of the conversation she’s trying to start.

“Nope,” she says, cutting you off with a shake of her head. “Don’t brush me off. You just admitted you like me, so now I get to ask questions.”

You groan, leaning your head back against the couch. “This is why I don’t talk about shit like this.”

“Too bad,” she says firmly, poking your chest with her finger. “Spill.”

You let out a long sigh, dragging a hand down your face. “Fine. You want the story? Here it is.”

Winter doesn’t say anything, just waits, her eyes locked on you, her expression soft but focused.

“It was high school,” you start, your voice quieter now. “I was seventeen. She was… everything. Or at least, I thought she was. We were together for two years—serious, like, talking-about-the-future serious. Then, out of nowhere, she dumped me. Said she was bored. Two years, and she just… walked away like it was nothing.”

Winter’s face twists in disbelief. “Are you serious? She said that? That she was bored?”

You nod, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Yeah. And she was already hooking up with some guy from her physics class a week later. Guess I wasn’t exciting enough.”

“That’s fucking awful,” Winter says, her voice soft but filled with anger on your behalf.

“Yeah, well, it kind of destroyed me,” you admit, rubbing the back of your neck. “I was stupid enough to think it was love, you know? Thought she was the one or whatever. But after that, I decided I wasn’t gonna deal with that shit anymore. Relationships are messy, and people suck.”

Winter doesn’t say anything right away, just stares at you like she’s trying to piece you together. Finally, she asks, “So, what? You’re just gonna live the rest of your life alone?”

“Pretty much,” you say with a shrug. “I’m not living in the 50s, Winter. I don’t need to get married or settle down to be happy.”

Her brow furrows, and she shifts closer, her hand resting lightly on your knee. “I’m sorry you went through that. I really am. But…”

You raise an eyebrow. “But?”

“But,” she continues, her voice firm, “not everyone’s like her. Not everyone’s gonna break your heart.”

You scoff lightly. “Right. Until they do.”

Winter shakes her head, her hand squeezing your knee. “I’m not saying you have to trust everyone. I’m just saying… maybe you shouldn’t shut the door completely. You’re not the same person you were back then.”

You glance at her, her face so earnest it almost hurts to look at her. “What are you getting at?”

She takes a deep breath, her hand moving to cover yours. “I’m saying… give me a chance. Let me show you that relationships don’t have to be messy and painful. That they can be good, too.”

“Winter…”

“Just think about it,” she says softly. “I’m not asking for forever. I’m asking for a chance. For us.”

Her eyes search yours, and for the first time in years, you feel the walls you’ve built around yourself start to crack, just a little.

“Why me, anyway?” you finally ask. “There are so many guys out there—guys who actually want to date, who don’t have all this baggage.”

Winter sits back a little, still close but giving you enough space to think. Her eyes stay locked on yours, though, unwavering. “Because none of them are you,” she says softly, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

You blink, caught off guard by the simplicity of her answer. “What does that even mean?”

She smiles, a small, almost shy curve of her lips. “It means I don’t want someone else. I want you. You’re funny, and you’re smart, and you’re—” She pauses, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You’re different. In the best way.”

You snort lightly, trying to deflect the compliment. “Different how?”

“You just are,” she says, leaning forward. “Remember that night I couldn’t sleep, and you were up playing video games? We messaged for hours, just talking about the dumbest shit.”

You do remember. She’d been wide awake at 2 a.m., texting you about how she hated the sound of the neighbor’s wind chimes. You’d been mid-match, only half-paying attention at first, but then she’d started making jokes, and somehow you’d ended up talking until the sun came up.

“Yeah,” you say after a moment. “That was... pretty cool.”

“Exactly,” she says, her smile growing. “You made me feel better that night without even trying. And it wasn’t just that. It’s everything. The way you talk, the way you think. You don’t even realize how... captivating you are.”

You glance away, the intensity of her gaze making your stomach twist. “You’re overselling me, Winter.”

“I’m not,” she says, and before you can argue, she climbs into your lap. Her movements are smooth and confident, and suddenly, she’s straddling you, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders.

“You’re scared,” she says softly, her face inches from yours. “And I get it. But if you give me a chance, I promise you won’t get tired of me.”

You look at her, her wide, earnest eyes, her lips slightly parted, and you know she’s being honest. You sigh, leaning your head back against the couch. “I already know I wouldn’t get tired of you,” you admit, your voice low. “That’s the problem.”

Her brow furrows slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...” You pause, your hands instinctively settling on her waist. “What if it’s the other way around? What if you get tired of me?”

She stares at you for a moment, and then, without saying a word, she leans in and kisses you. It’s soft at first, her lips brushing against yours gently, but then she deepens it, her hands sliding up to cup your face. It’s not just a kiss—it’s an answer.

When she finally pulls back, her voice is firm. “I’m not going to get tired of you.”

You stare at her, her words settling somewhere deep inside you, and you can’t find it in yourself to argue.

She smiles again, softer this time, her fingers tracing along your jaw. “So... is tomorrow’s coffee still on?”

You chuckle, shaking your head slightly. “As long as you’re feeling better.”

She grins, her eyes lighting up. “Deal.”

Winter’s hand moves slowly over your chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns against the fabric of your shirt. Her gaze softens, though there’s a playful glint in her eyes. “So,” she starts, her tone low and inviting, “what do you think about celebrating this new phase of ours… in bed?”

“You’re sick, Winter.”

She tilts her head, her lips curving into a sly smile. “I feel cured already.”

You raise an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Do you?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, leaning in closer, her fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt to brush against your bare skin. “And if I’m not, maybe you could… help with that?”

Your laugh is soft, though your body betrays you, your hands already resting on her hips. “You really think I’m gonna fuck you when you’re sick?”

“Why not?” she counters, her voice dripping with mock innocence. “Are you saying you’d stop just because of that?”

“Yes,” you say firmly, though your grip on her hips tightens slightly. “Because I actually care about your well-being, even if you don’t.”

Her smile widens, and she leans closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “For the sake of my well-being, I need to be fucked really hard. By you.”

You pull back slightly, giving her an incredulous look. “And how exactly is that supposed to help?”

She shrugs, her fingers sliding further up your chest. “It’s alternative treatment,” she says, her tone teasing. “I’m pretty sure it’s good for circulation or something.”

You shake your head, fighting a grin. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re already hard,” she points out, shifting her weight slightly to grind her hips against your lap. The motion is subtle, but it’s enough to make your cock twitch, the heat of her body pressing against you.

“Winter—” you start, but she cuts you off, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

“Don’t tell me you’re hard from the thought of fucking a sick, vulnerable girl,” she says, her voice dropping to a provocative whisper.

You smirk, your hands sliding down to squeeze her little ass. “You don’t look very vulnerable right now.”

She laughs softly, her breath warm against your neck. “You’re right. I’m not. In fact, I’m fucking horny.”

Her words send a jolt straight through you, and before you can second-guess yourself, you’re standing, lifting her effortlessly into your arms. Winter squeals softly, her legs wrapping around your waist, her hands locking behind your neck.

“You’re so fucking naughty,” you mutter, carrying her toward the bedroom.

“And you’re irresistible,” she counters, grinning.

You glance down at her, her flushed cheeks, her bright eyes, her lips slightly parted. “You are too,” you admit, your voice quieter. “Too fucking irresistible for your own good.”

She leans in, brushing her lips against yours in a soft, teasing kiss. “Then don’t resist.”

You step into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind you before lowering her onto the bed. She looks up at you, her messy blonde hair splayed across the pillow, her lips curling into a pout. “Promise you’ll be affectionate with me after?” she asks, her voice soft but laced with mischief. “I'm so sensitive.”

You laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Sensitive? You? That’s the last thing you are.”

Her pout deepens, though the glint in her eyes gives her away. “I can be sensitive!”

“Sure you can,” you tease, your hands already sliding under her shirt. “But I think we both know you’re a lot more dangerous than that.”

She grins, her hands tugging you closer. “Dangerous or not, I’m all yours.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you murmur, lowering yourself over her as your lips capture hers in a kiss that promises everything she asked for—and more.

As you pull back from the kiss, standing over Winter while starting to unbutton your shirt, she suddenly shifts, adopting this dramatic, old-Hollywood expression. Her eyes widen with mock innocence, her hand fluttering delicately to her chest.

“Oh, Doctor,” she says in an exaggerated, breathy voice, like a starlet from a black-and-white film. “Are you sure this… treatment is absolutely necessary?”

You blink, momentarily thrown off. “What?”

“This treatment,” she repeats, pointing vaguely between the two of you. “It feels so… unconventional. I’m not sure I should be here.”

The way she’s looking at you, like she’s trying to win an Oscar, makes you snort. “What the hell are you doing?”

She gasps, putting a hand to her cheek like you’ve just scandalized her. “I’m your patient, Doctor! You mustn’t mock me in my time of need!”

It finally clicks, and you shake your head, chuckling as you play along. “Oh, I see how it is,” you say, pulling your shirt off and tossing it onto the floor, already working on your pants. “Well, don’t worry, Miss Winter. You’re my favorite patient. The most beautiful, the most well-behaved. You deserve the best care.”

She covers her mouth like she’s shocked, then peeks through her fingers with a mischievous grin. “Oh, Doctor, you must say that to all your patients.”

“I don’t,” you say firmly, now standing in just your underwear. You slide your hands slowly down her thighs, her skin soft and warm beneath your palms. “You’re the only one I touch like this. The only one I care for in such a… special way.”

Winter bites her lip, pretending to be shy as she squirms under your touch. “Doctor,” she whispers, her voice trembling with fake innocence. “Promise you’ll take good care of me?”

You smirk, leaning down so your face is close to hers. “I promise. That’s my job, after all.”

Her cheeks flush, and she looks up at you through her lashes. “You make me feel… strange things, Doctor.”

You raise an eyebrow, playing along. “Strange things? What kind of things, Miss Winter?”

She hesitates, biting her lip like she’s embarrassed. “Well… down there,” she says softly, gesturing vaguely toward her hips. “You make me all… wet.”

You fight back a grin, your hands tightening slightly on her thighs. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” she continues, her voice growing more dramatic. “And I’ve been having such impure thoughts about you, Doctor. Thoughts about your… hands. And your lips. And other things.”

You let out a low chuckle, leaning down to kiss her, slow and teasing. “That does sound serious,” you murmur against her lips. “But don’t worry, Miss Winter. I know exactly how to solve this.”

She gasps softly, her hands tangling in your hair as she kisses you back, her voice a little less dramatic now and a lot more needy. “Oh, Doctor,” she murmurs, her tone shifting into something real, full of anticipation.

You grab the hem of Winter’s oversized shirt, lifting it slowly, and the sight of her bare thighs makes your breath hitch. But when you lift it higher and realize she’s not wearing panties, her pussy already glistening, you pause.

“Fuck, Winter,” you mutter, your eyes locked on her. “You’ve been walking around like this the whole time?”

She grins, her cheeks flushed but full of mischief. “Maybe. It's more practical to simply not wear panties around you.”

You slide a hand between her legs, your fingers brushing against her wetness, and she gasps, her hips jerking slightly. “Soaked,” you murmur, rubbing her gently. “You’re soaked already. You’ve been like this the whole time, haven’t you?”

“Since you walked in,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I’ve been dreaming about this cock since you got here.”

You lean in, kissing her hard while your fingers work her pussy, sliding along her slick folds. She moans into your mouth, her hands reaching down to grip your cock through your underwear. The pressure is just enough to make you groan, and she strokes you, slow and deliberate, her fingers wrapping around your length.

“Dreaming about me, huh?” you say, pulling back just enough to look at her flushed face. “Were you even sick, Winter?”

She hesitates, biting her lip before confessing, “Maybe… I'm not that sick.”

You smirk, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m noticing that.”

Your fingers slide inside her, and she lets out a sharp gasp, her nails digging into your shoulders. She’s tight, hot, and so wet it’s almost obscene. You move slowly at first, curling your fingers just right, and her moans grow louder, her body arching into your touch.

But then you pull your fingers out, watching as they glisten with her slickness. Without a word, you bring them to her lips. “Suck,” you command softly.

Winter’s eyes widen slightly, but she obeys, parting her lips and taking your fingers into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around them, slow and sensual, and the sight of her makes your cock throb painfully.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you mutter, watching the way her lips move, how she looks up at you like she’s daring you to lose control.

You pull your fingers from her mouth with a soft pop, her lips shiny with saliva, and you smirk. “Open your mouth,” you say, your voice rough.

She does as you ask, her lips parting slightly, and you spit, the act filthy and intimate. She takes it without hesitation, her tongue darting out to taste it before you lean in and kiss her hard, your hand gripping the back of her neck.

Your other hand comes up to her cheeks, holding her face as you pull back slightly. “Tell me,” you murmur, your thumb brushing over her flushed skin. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need.

“That’s not polite,” you say, smirking. “Ask nicely.”

Her eyes darken, and she bites her lip before speaking again. “Please, daddy. Please fuck me. I need you so bad. Please.”

You grin, leaning down to kiss her again before pulling back. “Lie down,” you command.

Winter obeys, sliding back on the bed until she’s lying flat, her legs spreading instinctively. You strip off your underwear, your cock springing free, hard and already leaking.

“Condom?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

She shakes her head, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You know we don’t need it.”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. “I like to be polite.”

She giggles, her laughter soft and breathy. “You don’t look so polite when you’re fucking me like an animal.”

You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself between her legs, your cock brushing against her entrance. “And you love it,” you say, rubbing the head of your cock along her slick folds, teasing her.

“Fuck,” she whispers, her hips shifting as she tries to take you in. “Yes, I love it. Please, don’t tease me.”

You lean down, your lips brushing against her ear. “Then beg louder,” you murmur.

Winter’s whines turn into outright begging, her voice trembling as her hips tilt up, desperate to pull you in.

“Please,” she whimpers, her hands gripping the sheets. “Please, I need it so bad. I’ll be your little whore, I promise. I’ll be good, daddy. I’ll do whatever you say—just fuck me already.”

Her words make you grin, the filthy desperation in her voice hitting you in all the right places. You look down at her, her angelic face flushed with need, her wide, pleading eyes fixed on you, and you can’t help but marvel.

“How can you look so sweet,” you murmur, your voice low, “and be such a little slut at the same time?”

Winter moans at the words, her thighs trembling as she spreads her legs even wider. “I’m your slut,” she whispers. “Only yours. Please, please, don’t tease me anymore. I need you.”

“Yeah?” you growl, gripping her hips tightly. “You’re mine, huh? My needy little slut?”

“Yes, daddy,” she cries, her nails digging into the sheets as her head tilts back. “All yours. Please, just fuck me!”

You don’t make her wait another second. With one powerful thrust, you bury yourself inside her, all at once, hard and fast. The sheer heat and tightness of her pussy make you groan, your fingers digging into her hips as her scream of pleasure fills the room.

“Fuck, Winter,” you growl, barely able to hold yourself back. “You’re so fucking tight.”

She’s writhing beneath you, her back arching as her hands grab at your arms, her moans coming high-pitched and desperate. “Yes, yes, fuck—just like that!”

You don’t waste time easing into it. You pull back and slam into her again, setting a violent, unrelenting pace that has the bed creaking and her cries growing louder with every thrust. Her pussy clenches around you, slick and hot and perfect, pulling you deeper every time.

“Goddamn, you take it so good,” you growl, leaning over her as your hips snap against hers. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To get fucked like this?”

“Yes!” she screams, her nails raking down your back. “Yes, yes—fuck me harder! Use me, please!”

“You love being my slut, don’t you?”

“I love it,” she gasps, her voice breaking. “I fucking love it. I’ll do anything—just don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Her legs wrap around your waist, locking you in place as her body trembles beneath you. Her moans are constant, her cries mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin. The sight of her like this—messy, desperate, completely lost in you—only makes you go harder, driving into her like you’re trying to ruin her.

“You feel so fucking good,” you groan, your grip on her tightening as you pound into her mercilessly. “This pussy was made for me, wasn’t it? Made to be fucked like this?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Winter cries, her voice shaking as she clings to you. “It’s yours—only yours. Please, I can’t take it—please don’t stop!”

Your cock drives into her over and over, each thrust rougher, deeper, more unrelenting than the last. Winter’s high-pitched moans fill the room, her thighs trembling as her hips push up to meet yours, desperate for every inch you’re giving her.

You bring your hand up to her throat, wrapping your fingers around it, just enough for her to feel it. Winter gasps at the touch, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours, and her lips part in a soft, breathy moan.

“You like this, don’t you?” you growl.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need. “I love it. I love how you make me feel.”

You smirk, leaning down slightly, your hand tightening just enough to make her breathing shallow. “You love being submissive, huh? Love being at my mercy?”

Her head tilts back, her eyes rolling slightly as she moans louder, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. “Yes,” she whimpers. “I love it. I love being yours.”

The sight of her—so completely lost in the pleasure, so willing to let you take control—sends a jolt of heat through you. You squeeze her throat a little harder, watching the way her body reacts instantly, her back arching as her pussy clenches around your cock.

“Fuck, Winter,” you mutter, your hips snapping against hers. “You’re so fucking perfect like this. You’re made to be my little slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she cries, her voice strained but dripping with need. “I’m your slut—your good little slut. Please, don’t stop, daddy.”

You lean down further, your lips brushing against her ear as your hand stays firmly on her throat. “You like being choked, don’t you? Like how it feels when I take control?”

Her eyes roll back again, her body shuddering beneath you. “Yes, yes—I love it,” she gasps, her voice barely audible now. “Please, don’t stop. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Yeah?” you growl, your other hand gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks as you thrust into her relentlessly. “You’d do anything for me?”

“Yes,” she moans, her nails digging into your arms. “Anything. I just want to please you.”

You tighten your grip on her throat slightly, watching as her lips part in a silent cry, her body arching off the bed. The way she looks right now—eyes hazy, mouth open, completely at your mercy—drives you insane.

“Good girl,” you mutter, your pace never faltering. “You’re such a good little slut for me. Taking my cock so well.”

Her moans grow louder again, her body writhing beneath you as you push her closer and closer to that edge. But you’re not done yet—you want her completely undone, begging for more, completely yours.

Your cock slams into Winter’s soaking wet pussy with relentless force, the violent pace making her body bounce with each thrust. Her moans are high-pitched, desperate, and completely filthy, and you can feel the way she’s tightening around you, her body trembling as she gets closer and closer.

“I’m close,” she cries, her voice breaking, her nails clawing at the sheets. “Fuck, I’m so close!”

The moment the words leave her mouth, you slow down drastically, pulling almost all the way out and thrusting back in painfully slow. Winter whines loudly, her hips trying to chase yours for more friction, but you grab her waist, holding her still.

“What did you just say?” you growl, your voice low and dangerous. “You don’t cum unless I say so.”

“Sorry, daddy,” she whimpers, her eyes squeezing shut as her hands grip the sheets tightly.

“Do you?” you challenge, raising your hand and slapping her cheek firmly, just the way you know drives her wild. Her head turns with the impact, her lips parting in a sharp gasp, and her eyes flutter open, looking at you with a mix of surprise and arousal.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“Louder,” you demand, your hand gripping her chin to make her face you. “Speak clearly when I’m talking to you.”

“Yes!” she cries, her voice louder now, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glazed over. “I understand. I’ll be good, I swear!”

“That’s better,” you mutter, giving her one more light slap for good measure.

Without another word, you lift her off the bed with ease, her small frame fitting perfectly in your hands. You reposition her so she’s sitting in your lap, her back pressed against your chest. The intimacy of the position contrasts sharply with the dominance in your touch as you slide back into her, burying yourself deep.

Winter lets out a choked cry, her hands grabbing at your thighs as you hold her firmly against you. Your chest presses against her back, your arms wrapping around her waist as you start to move again, slow and possessive this time.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your lips brushing against her ear. “You feel so fucking good like this. You’re mine, Winter. My good girl.”

“Yes,” she moans, her head falling back against your shoulder. “I’m yours. I’ll be good, daddy—I promise, I’ll be good for you.”

“You better,” you growl, your teeth grazing her neck as your hands roam over her body, gripping her hips and pulling her down onto your cock with each thrust. “If you want to cum, you’re gonna have to earn it. Be the perfect little slut for me.”

“I will,” she gasps, her body trembling against yours. “I’ll do anything for you. Just don’t stop.”

You hold her tighter, your thrusts growing faster, deeper, the angle making her whimper and cry out with every movement. Her head rolls against your shoulder, her lips brushing against your neck as her hands grip your thighs desperately.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” you murmur, your voice rough with lust. “You take me so well. You were made for this, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” she cries, her voice breaking. “Made for you. Only for you.”

Your cock drives into Winter slowly, each deliberate thrust making her squirm in your lap. Her back is pressed tightly against your chest, her flushed skin damp with sweat, and her whines are soft and desperate, filling the room like music. You can feel how badly she wants it—the way her pussy clenches around you, her hips trying to push down to take you deeper. But you don’t let her.

Instead, your hand slides up to her throat, fingers wrapping around her delicate neck, and you give her a firm squeeze. She gasps at the contact, her head tilting back against your shoulder, exposing her throat to you.

“You really like this, don’t you?” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “The way I fuck you. The way I tease you.”

“Yes, daddy,” she whimpers, her hands gripping your arms for support. “I love it. I love everything about it.”

You squeeze her throat a little tighter, your lips brushing against her ear. “You sure about that?” you ask, your thrusts slowing even more, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in agonizingly slow. “Because if you’re not, I can stop. I won’t let you cum.”

“No!” Winter cries, her voice high-pitched and panicked. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

You chuckle darkly, your free hand sliding down to grip her hip, keeping her firmly in place as you continue your slow, deliberate pace. “Then tell me,” you growl. “Tell me how much you love this cock.”

“I love it,” she whines, her voice trembling with need. “I love your big, thick cock. I love the way it fills me up, the way it drives me crazy.”

Your cock twitches at her words, and you tighten your grip on her throat just enough to make her gasp. “Yeah?” you murmur, your tone still teasing. “You love the way I fuck you, don’t you? The way I make you beg like this?”

“Yes, yes,” she moans, her head rolling back against your shoulder. “I love it so much. You make me feel so good—so fucking good.”

You smirk, your lips grazing her jawline. “You’re not just saying that, are you?” you ask, your hand flexing around her throat. “Because if you’re lying, Winter, I swear I’ll stop right now.”

Her body shudders, and she turns her head slightly to look at you, her eyes glassy with desire. “I swear,” she says, her voice breaking. “It’s true. I love it. I love the way you fuck me. Please don’t stop, daddy. Please, let me cum.”

You study her for a moment, her trembling body, her wide, pleading eyes, the way her voice shakes with desperation. There’s no denying how much she means it, how much she needs this.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your grip on her throat easing slightly as you press a kiss to her cheek. “You’ve been so good for me.”

Winter moans softly, her hands tightening on your arms. “Does that mean I can cum?” she asks, her voice hopeful and needy.

“Not yet,” you reply, your smirk growing. “But soon. I’ll make sure it’s worth it.”

Your hands move up from Winter’s waist to her chest, cupping her small breasts as you start to squeeze and knead them. Her soft moans grow louder, her nipples hardening against your palms as you gradually pick up the pace, your cock sliding deeper and harder into her with every thrust.

“You like this?” you growl, your lips brushing against her ear as you whisper. “You like how I fill you up, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, her voice trembling. “I love it. I love how deep you are. Please, don’t stop.”

Your fingers pinch her nipples, twisting just enough to make her gasp, and you lean in closer, your breath hot against her ear. “I’m gonna fuck you every day,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “Every chance I get. I’m gonna make you scream so loud the neighbors’ll know exactly how good I fuck you.”

Winter shudders in your arms, her head tilting back against your shoulder as a moan tears from her lips. “Fuck,” she cries, her nails digging into the sheets. “I’d let you. I’d let you ruin me every fucking day.”

The way she says it, so shameless and raw, makes your cock twitch inside her. You smirk, gripping her hips tightly as you pull out slowly, savoring the way her pussy clings to you. Then you shove her forward, letting her fall onto her hands and knees.

“Get on all fours,” you command, your voice rough with need.

Winter scrambles into position, her pale little ass sticking up, her glistening pink pussy on full display for you. She looks back over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted as she waits.

“Good girl,” you murmur, stroking her ass lightly before positioning yourself behind her.

Her pussy is already full of creamy slickness, and when you slide back into her, the wet, obscene sound it makes drives you wild. “Shit,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips as you start to fuck her hard, the bed creaking beneath you.

Winter’s moans grow louder, turning into screams as you pound into her, your cock hitting her deep and fast. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” you growl, your hips slamming against her ass. “So wet and messy for me.”

Her cries are almost incoherent, her body jerking forward with each thrust. “Yes! Yes! Fuck me harder!” she begs, her voice breaking.

Your gaze drops to her ass, watching the way it bounces with every thrust. Her tight little hole quite inviting as you fuck her, so pink and tempting. You reach out, rubbing your thumb against it in slow, deliberate circles.

Winter gasps, her head snapping up as her back arches. “Oh my God,” she moans, her voice trembling. “Yes, touch me there—please, more!”

You keep rubbing, teasing her hole with your thumb as your cock slams into her harder, deeper. “You like that?” you growl, watching the way her body responds to every touch.

“Yes,” she cries, her hips pushing back against you. “I love it—don’t stop, please!”

Your grip on Winter’s hips tightens as you pick up the pace, your cock slamming into her soaking pussy harder and faster. Her screams are music to your ears, high-pitched and raw, echoing off the walls. Her ass bounces against you with every thrust, the creamy slickness of her pussy making every movement wet and obscene.

At the same time, your thumb continues massaging her tight, virgin asshole, slow, deliberate circles that make her body shudder beneath you. Her moans turn breathless, desperate, her hips twitching as she pushes back against your hand.

“You like it when I play with your ass, don’t you?” you growl, leaning forward slightly, your breath hot against the back of her neck.

“Yes,” Winter moans, her voice trembling with need. “Fuck, yes—I love it!”

“You’re such a fucking slut,” you snarl, your thumb pressing more firmly against her entrance. “Getting off on me fucking your pussy and playing with your ass at the same time. That’s what you are—a needy little slut.”

“Yes,” she cries, her voice breaking. “I’m your slut—only yours. Please, don’t stop!”

You grin, knowing how much she loves hearing you call her that, and you feel her pussy clench tighter around you, her body trembling as she edges closer to the brink.

“I’m close,” she warns, her voice shaky and frantic. “Fuck, I’m so close!”

Your pace becomes brutal, your hips slamming against her ass as you drive into her harder, deeper, faster. At the same time, you press harder on her asshole, teasing her entrance with your thumb.

“You’re gonna cum with my finger in your ass, aren’t you?” you growl.

“Yes!” she screams, her voice raw. “Yes, yes—please, make me cum! I need it!”

You smirk, pushing your thumb in slowly, just enough to stretch her a little, and her reaction is instant. Her back arches sharply, and she lets out a guttural moan, her nails clawing at the sheets.

“Fuck, Winter,” you groan, your cock driving into her harder as your thumb moves slightly inside her. “You’re so fucking tight everywhere. Such a perfect little slut for me.”

Her cries grow louder, her body shaking violently as she teeters on the edge. “I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna fucking cum!” she screams, her voice echoing through the room.

“Do it,” you growl, your grip on her tightening as you fuck her relentlessly, your thumb pressing deeper. “Cum for me. Let me feel it.”

Winter’s entire body tenses, her head snapping back as a scream tears from her throat, so loud it’s a miracle the neighbors don’t start banging on the walls. Her pussy clamps down on your cock, her hips jerking uncontrollably as her orgasm crashes over her, wave after wave of pleasure leaving her shaking and gasping for air.

“Fuck,” you mutter, feeling the way her body spasms around you, completely undone.

Her cries eventually fade into soft whimpers, her body going limp beneath you as she collapses onto the bed, her chest heaving. You pull out slowly, your thumb sliding from her ass, and you smirk as you watch her shiver from the aftershocks.

“You’re fucking perfect,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to her back.

You hold Winter close against your chest, showering her neck and shoulders with tender kisses as she catches her breath. Her body is still trembling from the intense orgasm you just gave her, her pussy dripping wet and sensitive. You stroke her hair gently while whispering in her ear.

"Such a good girl for daddy, cumming so hard on my cock like that. You're perfect, baby."

Winter preens under the praise, a proud smile spreading across her flushed face. She's never experienced pleasure this intense before - her whole body is still tingling from the force of her climax. Your words make her feel cherished and special.

"The neighbors definitely heard what a naughty girl you are," you tease, making her bury her face in the mattress with an embarrassed whimper. Her ass wiggles enticingly as she squirms.

"I bet they heard every single moan and scream while I was pounding your tight little pussy. Now everyone knows what a dirty girl you are for daddy.”

Winter's embarrassment only makes her more aroused. She can feel your hard cock still buried deep inside her, and she desperately wants to make you feel as good as you made her feel.

"Please daddy," she whimpers needily, turning her head to look at you with big innocent eyes. "I want to make you cum now. Will you...will you cum in my ass?"

Your cock twitches inside her at those filthy words coming from such a sweet mouth. Hearing your innocent submissive good girl beg for anal makes your head spin with lust.

"Is that what you want, baby? You want daddy to fill up your tight little asshole with cum?" You give her ass a firm squeeze.

"Yes daddy, please," she moans. "After you played with my ass, I can't stop thinking about having you inside me there. I want to feel your hot cum filling me up."

"Fuck, you're such a dirty girl," you growl, your cock hardening even more. "Begging daddy to cum in your virgin ass like a little anal slut."

Winter whimpers and pushes her ass back against you needily. "Please daddy, keep fucking my pussy and when you're about to cum, just put the tip in my ass and fill me up. I want to feel it so bad."

"Stay right there on your stomach like a good girl," you command, repositioning yourself between her spread legs. Your cock is still buried in her dripping pussy, and you start thrusting again at a steady pace.

Winter moans and arches her back, presenting her ass to you perfectly. "Does daddy like my tight little holes? They're all yours to fill up however you want."

Her dirty talk drives you wild and you pick up the pace, fucking her pussy harder. "Keep talking like that baby, tell daddy what a naughty anal slut you are.”

"I'm your anal slut daddy," she pants between moans. "I want you to stretch my virgin asshole and fill it with your hot cum. I've been such a good girl, please give me my reward."

You spread her plump ass cheeks apart with both hands, exposing her tiny pink asshole. The sight of that tight virgin hole makes your cock throb with need. You start fucking her pussy even faster, your heavy balls slapping against her clit.

"Look at this perfect little asshole," you growl. "So tight and pretty, just begging to be filled with daddy's cum. You want it bad don't you baby?"

"Yes daddy, please! I need it so bad," Winter begs shamelessly. "Cum deep in my ass, mark me as yours. I want to feel your hot cum dripping out of me."

Her filthy words push you closer to the edge. You spread her ass wider, watching your cock slide in and out of her soaked pussy while her tight asshole clenches and relaxes invitingly.

"Such a dirty little anal virgin," you pant. "Begging daddy to take your ass and fill you up. I'm going to cum so deep inside that tight hole."

Winter's moans get louder and more desperate. "Please daddy, I'm ready for you. Put it in my ass and fill me up with your cum. I want to be your anal slut."

You can feel your orgasm building as you pound her pussy relentlessly. Her tight walls squeeze your cock perfectly while she continues begging for anal.

"Daddy please, I need your cum in my ass so bad. Make me your anal princess. Fill up my virgin hole."

When you're right on the edge, you pull out of her dripping pussy. With one hand you spread her ass cheek wide, exposing her tiny pink hole. With the other, you guide the head of your cock to press against her virgin entrance.

The tight ring of muscle resists at first, but then the head of your cock pops inside her ass. The incredible tightness sends you over the edge instantly. Winter cries out as she feels your hot cum start flooding her virgin asshole.

"Fuck baby, taking daddy's cum so deep in your ass," you groan as you empty your balls inside her. "Such a good anal slut for me."

Winter moans and shivers as she feels each hot spurt of cum filling her ass. The head of your cock stays snugly buried in her incredibly tight hole as you finish cumming.

When you finally pull out, your cum immediately starts leaking from her stretched asshole. You spread both of her cheeks wide apart to watch the erotic sight of your white cum dripping down toward her pussy.

"Look how pretty your ass looks leaking daddy's cum," you praise her. "Such a perfect little anal princess."

Winter whimpers and wiggles her ass. "Thank you daddy. I loved feeling you cum in my ass."

You continue admiring the view of your cum trickling from her freshly-fucked hole. Her virgin ass took you so well, stretching perfectly around the head of your cock.

"We're definitely doing that again baby," you tell her, giving her ass a playful smack. "Now daddy knows what a naughty anal slut you can be."

Winter blushes but smiles proudly, happy to have pleased you. She can still feel your hot cum inside her ass, marking her as yours.

You lay down beside her and pull her into your arms, peppering her face with soft kisses. She snuggles against your chest contentedly while your cum continues slowly leaking from her ass.

"Such a good girl for daddy," you murmur. "Taking my cock in your virgin ass like that. Did you like having daddy's cum filling you up?"

"Yes daddy," she says shyly. "It felt so naughty but so good. I loved feeling you cum inside me."

You stroke her hair and hold her close, letting her bask in the afterglow of her first anal experience. Her body is completely relaxed against yours, thoroughly satisfied.

"Next time I'll fuck that tight ass properly," you promise. "Really stretch you open and fill you with cum over and over."

Winter shivers with arousal at your words. "Yes please daddy. I want to be your anal slut whenever you want."

You spend the next little while cuddling and exchanging soft kisses, your hands roaming over her curves possessively. Winter occasionally squirms as she feels more of your cum trickling from her ass.

"Should we get cleaned up baby?" you ask after a while, noticing the mess of cum between her legs.

"Not yet," she says, clinging to you. "I like feeling your cum inside me. Makes me feel like I'm yours."

You smile and kiss her forehead. "You are mine baby. My perfect little anal princess."

—

You sit across from Winter at a small café table, the sunlight spilling through the large windows and catching the golden streaks in her blonde hair. She’s wearing a light yellow sundress that flares out just above her knees, a little bow tied at the waist. The dress shows just enough skin to drive you crazy while still looking effortlessly cute. Her white sneakers complete the look, giving her an innocent, casual charm that feels so uniquely hers.

Winter’s playful smile is fixed on you, her chin propped on her hand as she stirs her iced coffee lazily with a straw. She’s got that look, the one that says she knows something you don’t. Probably feeling like she’s already won whatever unspoken game you’re playing.

“You’re really feeling better?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you take a sip of your drink.

She nods, her grin widening. “Completely cured.”

“You sure? Because you got better awfully fast. Makes me wonder if you were even sick in the first place.”

Winter lets out a soft laugh, twirling the straw between her fingers. “That’s because of you,” she says, batting her lashes mockingly. “You were such good… medicine.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Medicine, huh? Pretty sure I broke a few ethical guidelines as your doctor.”

“Yeah, well,” she teases, leaning forward slightly, “I’m not complaining.”

She looks too damn proud of herself, and you can’t resist poking at her.

“Hey, you spilled some coffee on the table,” you say, pointing to where she spilled it.

“Oh, you're right! Hand me a napkin.”

You pick up a napkin and slide it toward her. “Here. Do you clean by yourself or do you want daddy to help you?” you ask, purposely raising your voice a little.

The shift is instant. Winter’s playful confidence crumbles as her cheeks turn bright red, her eyes darting around the café to make sure no one heard.

“Are you insane?” she hisses, grabbing the napkin and glaring at you. “Don’t say things like that in public!”

You chuckle, leaning your elbows on the table. “Why not? You seemed to love it in bed yesterday. Hell, you couldn’t stop saying it.”

Her face gets even redder, and she throws the napkin back at you, hitting you square in the chest. “I was dying of embarrassment even leaving the house today!” she exclaims. “I’m pretty sure the neighbors really heard everything.”

Your laughter only makes her more flustered, and you lean back, grinning. “Hey, you asked for it. Literally.”

Winter groans, burying her face in her hands for a moment before peeking out at you. “You’re insufferable.”

“You chose the insufferable,” you say smoothly.

She tries to hold her annoyed expression, but a small smile slips through. “Whatever,” she mutters, picking up her coffee again.

“So,” you say after a moment, tilting your head. “You gonna call me daddy again later?”

Winter glances up at you, her lips twitching as she tries not to smile too much. “Yeah,” she says softly, her eyes meeting yours. “I love calling you that.”

There’s a moment of silence, charged but comfortable, before you clear your throat. “Anyway, why’d you pick this café again? There are like, fifty others places we could’ve gone to.”

Winter shrugs, stirring her drink again. “Last time didn’t count.”

“Didn’t count?”

She looks up at you, her expression soft but serious. “You dodged all my questions last time. You didn’t even seem like you wanted to be there.”

The guilt hits you instantly, and you exhale, leaning forward. “Yeah, I… I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t you, though. It’s just…” You pause, lowering your head. “You already know the reason.”

Winter nods. “I know. But it still kind of sucked.”

You nod, meeting her gaze. “You’re right. It did. I didn’t handle it well, and I’m sorry. But I’m here now. And this time, I won’t run.”

Her smile grows, slow and genuine, lighting up her entire face. “You promise?”

“Promise,” you say softly.

Winter leans forward, resting her chin in her hand again, her grin turning playful once more. “Good. Because I wasn’t gonna let you run anyway.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m starting to figure that out.”

For the first time in a long time, you feel it—something steady, something warm. Maybe this time it’s worth the risk. Especially with her.

[authorhjk1]

Surviving NNN

Finale: Part 1

(Karina X Giselle X Winter X Ningning X Irene X Seulgi X Wendy X Joy X Yeri X Male Reader) Word count: 29638 words

You find yourself in one of SM’s private gyms. A smaller, more exclusive space reserved for senior artists. The only sounds are the faint hum of the air conditioning and Seulgi’s shaky breathing.

Seulgi is leaning back against the mirrored wall, her leggings pulled down to her knees, legs spread as wide as the fabric allows. Her sports bra is pushed up, exposing her toned stomach and perky tits. She’s trembling, one hand gripping the bar behind her for support, the other tangled in your hair.

You’re on your knees between her legs, face buried in her pussy. You drag your tongue slowly up her slit, savoring her taste, before focusing on her swollen clit. You suck it gently into your mouth, flicking your tongue over the sensitive bud in steady, relentless circles.

Seulgi lets out a broken whimper, her hips jerking forward.

“Oh my god…”

You hum against her, the vibration making her thighs shake harder. You keep most of your attention on her clit and pussy, licking, sucking, occasionally sliding your tongue inside her to taste her dripping arousal. Every time her moans start climbing higher, you pull back just a little, only to dive back in.

But occasionally, you shift lower. You drag your tongue down to her tight little asshole, giving it a slow, teasing lick. Seulgi gasps sharply, her whole body jolting at the unfamiliar sensation.

“Ah-! There-wait-”

You don’t stay long. Just enough to give her a taste of what’s coming soon. Then you move back up to her clit, sucking harder, making her forget the brief tease.

Seulgi’s legs are shaking violently at the teasing. Her free hand flies to her mouth, trying to muffle her moans, but it’s useless.

“You taste amazing.”

You murmur against her soaked pussy.

“So fucking sweet.”

Seulgi whines, her hips grinding desperately against your face.

“Don’t stop-please-I’m so close…”

You focus on her clit again, tongue moving faster, two fingers sliding into her tight pussy and curling upward to hit that perfect spot. Seulgi’s back arches, her abs flexing as she trembles on the edge.

The combination is too much for her. With a choked cry, she cums hard on your tongue, her pussy gushing around your fingers as her thighs clamp around your head. Her whole body shakes uncontrollably, soft, desperate whimpers spilling from her lips while you keep licking her through her orgasm.

The gym is quiet again, save for Seulgi’s heavy, ragged breathing as she slowly comes down from her orgasm. Her legs are still trembling, one hand gripping the bar, the other your head. You give her clit one last gentle lick, then pull back and stand up. Seulgi’s eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed, lips parted as she tries to catch her breath.

Before she can fully recover, you turn her around. Seulgi lets out a soft, surprised whimper as you spin her, pressing her front against the wall, the bar digging into her hips. Her ass is now right in front of your face. And you don’t waste time. You spread her cheeks apart with both hands and dive in. Your tongue immediately finds her tight little hole, licking broad, wet stripes over it before circling the rim. Seulgi’s reaction is instant. A loud, broken moan escapes her as her legs start shaking harder.

“Oh fuck!”

You eat her ass greedily, tongue pressing inside her tight ring, licking and sucking while your hands knead her soft cheeks. Seulgi’s moans grow louder and more desperate, her forehead pressed against the wall as her body trembles.

“Shit-that feels so-ahh-dirty-don’t stop-”

Her legs are shaking so violently now that you have to hold her hips steady to keep her upright. She’s moaning louder than before, completely lost in the sensation of your tongue on her ass.

Suddenly-

The sound of the door opening echoes through the gym. Both of you freeze instantly. Seulgi’s eyes go wide with panic. You quickly pull your face away from her ass and stand up. You help her yank her leggings back up over her hips while she whimpers softly, still sensitive and unsteady on her feet.

You move fast, stepping over to the rack of dumbbells and grabbing a random pair, pretending to use them. Seulgi collapses onto a nearby bench, crossing her legs tightly and trying to look like she’s just taking a break, breathing hard and flushed.

A second later, Wendy rounds the corner.

She’s wearing tight gray leggings that hug her toned legs and a black cropped top. The top is sheer enough to show the bra underneath, and it exposes a generous amount of her toned midriff. Her hair is tied back, and she’s carrying a small water bottle.

“Oh-hey.”

She says, blinking in surprise.

“I didn’t know anyone else was using this gym today.”

She looks between you and Seulgi, tilting her head slightly. Seulgi is still visibly flushed, breathing a little too hard, while you’re standing there holding dumbbells you clearly weren’t actually using.

Wendy’s eyes narrow just a fraction, a small, curious smile forming on her lips.

“…Everything okay?”

Seulgi forces a smile.

“Y-yeah. Just… working out.”

You nod, trying to look casual. Wendy doesn’t look convinced, especially since you aren’t even at the same company. So what are you doing here? Just working out with Seulgi?

Wendy walks past you with a casual stride, but as she does, she turns her head slightly and suddenly gives you a teasing wink. Her eyes sparkle with knowing amusement before she continues toward the treadmill area.

That single wink makes your heart stutter. You suddenly remember what Yeri said in her car, the first time she made her move on you.

“Wendy told me herself. After your radio show together. She said you must be packing.”

And now, after what happened with Yeri in the bathroom… the pictures, the stall, the way Yeri had been so eager to send them…

You’re almost certain Wendy knows. The thought makes your stomach tighten. How much does she know? Did Yeri tell her everything? Or did Wendy only hear stuff about you with her? Maybe Joy mentioned something?

You try to push the thought aside and actually focus on working out. You pick up a pair of dumbbells and start doing some shoulder presses, but your concentration is shot. Seulgi eventually pulls herself together too. She stands up from the bench, still a little shaky on her legs, and moves over to the leg press machine. She adjusts the weight and starts her set, but you can tell she’s still sensitive. Every movement makes her bite her lip and breathe a little harder than usual.

The gym feels far too small now. You keep stealing glances. At Seulgi, her tight leggings hugging her ass and thighs as she pushes through her reps, the faint sheen of sweat on her exposed midriff. At Wendy, her top riding up every time she moves on the treadmill, showing off that smooth, toned stomach you’ve fantasized about since your dream. The way her leggings cling to her legs and ass as she runs is impossible to ignore.

Both of them have incredible bodies. Tight, fit, and currently glistening with the beginning of a workout sweat. It’s incredibly hard to concentrate. Every time you try to focus on your own sets, your eyes drift. Seulgi’s ass flexing on the leg press. Wendy’s tits bouncing slightly with each stride on the treadmill. The way both of them occasionally glance in your direction when they think you’re not looking.

The air in the gym feels thick with tension.

Wendy finishes another set on the treadmill and slows it to a walk. She wipes her forehead with the back of her wrist, then casually glances over at Seulgi, who is still focused on the leg press machine with her back turned to the bench area.

A small, mischievous smile curves Wendy’s lips. She steps off the treadmill and walks toward the flat bench.

“Hey.”

She says sweetly, loud enough for Seulgi to potentially hear if she were paying attention.

“Can you spot me for a few reps?”

You know exactly what she’s doing, if she’s doing what you think she’s doing. You walk over and stand at the head of the bench as Wendy lies down on her back. She adjusts her position, arms reaching up toward the barbell. She glances one last time toward Seulgi’s back to make sure she’s still facing away, then reaches past the barbell and hooks her fingers into the waistband of your shorts and tugs them down, along with your boxers. Your cock springs free, already half-hard from watching these two women work out. Wendy’s eyes light up. She hums in quiet satisfaction, biting her lower lip.

“Yeri wasn’t lying. She told me your cock would taste amazing in my mouth.”

She wraps one hand around your shaft and gives it a few slow, firm strokes, thumb brushing over the head.

“She showed me pictures, you know.”

Wendy continues, stroking your cock.

“The ones from the bathroom. God… Yeri looked so fucking hot with your cock in her mouth. All messy and ruined like that.”

You’re surprised. You didn’t expect Yeri to actually show Wendy those explicit shots you took. The realization sends a fresh rush of heat through you. You glance quickly at Seulgi’s back. She’s still focused on her reps, completely unaware. When you look back down, Wendy has already pulled your cock a little closer. She leans her head back slightly on the bench, opens her mouth, and wraps her soft lips around the tip. She hums again, the vibration traveling straight down your shaft as she starts sucking gently on the head, tongue swirling slowly. Her eyes stay locked on yours the entire time, full of playful hunger. Her mouth feels incredible. She takes a little more of your cock, sucking with soft, unstable bobs while her hand continues to stroke the base.

She pulls off just long enough to whisper:

“Seulgi’s still busy… so be quiet for me, okay?”

Then she takes you back into her mouth, sucking a little deeper this time, clearly enjoying herself.

The risk of getting caught - with Seulgi just a few meters away, focused on her workout - only makes the moment hotter. You stand at the head of the bench, looking down at Wendy as she lies on her back, lips wrapped around the head of your cock. She can’t bob her head properly in this position. The angle is too awkward. So, almost naturally, you start to carefully thrust into her waiting mouth. Slow, shallow movements at first. You slide your cock a little deeper between her soft lips, then pull back, letting her tongue swirl around you on every stroke. Wendy hums in approval, her eyes half-lidded as she looks up at you, clearly enjoying the way you’re using her mouth. You keep the thrusts gentle and controlled, careful not to make too much noise or move too fast. The wet, soft sounds of your cock sliding in and out of her mouth are quiet enough to stay hidden under the distant clank of Seulgi’s weights.

You’re still surprised by how fast Wendy got into this though. One minute she is just walking into the gym, the next she is pulling your shorts down and sucking you off while Seulgi is only a few meters away. Yeri must have told her everything, maybe even showed her more pictures. And who knows what Joy might have said in passing. It seems the girls have been talking about you more than you realized.

Still, a thread of worry coils in your stomach.

Seulgi was the one who invited you here today. She was the one who wanted to “work out” with you. She was the one trembling under your tongue just minutes ago. If she turns around right now and sees Wendy sucking your cock… you have no idea how she’ll react. Jealousy? Anger? Hurt?

The thought makes you glance over at her again. Seulgi is still facing away, focused on her leg presses, completely unaware.

You look back down at Wendy. She’s watching you with a mischievous glint in her eyes, clearly noticing your momentary distraction. She opens her mouth a little wider, inviting you to push deeper, and gives your cock a slow, teasing suck when you do. Her tongue presses flat against the upper side as you carefully thrust into her warm, wet mouth. She takes you surprisingly well for the awkward angle, relaxing her throat and humming softly every time you slide in.

The contrast is dizzying.

Just minutes ago, you were eating Seulgi’s ass and pussy. Now Wendy is lying on the bench, greedily sucking you off while Seulgi works out just a few steps away, completely oblivious. Wendy’s hand comes up, gently cupping your balls as you continue your slow, careful thrusts. She looks up at you with that same playful, knowing smile around your cock, as if daring you to keep going. You’re torn between the intense pleasure of her mouth and the constant, nagging worry that Seulgi might turn around at any second. Wendy’s throat visibly bulges just a little every time you push all the way in. The sight is incredibly hot. The subtle outline of your cock stretching her throat as she lies on her back, looking up at you with watery, lust-filled eyes. Wendy hums softly around you, clearly enjoying herself, her tongue working tirelessly along the underside of your shaft.

You’re completely lost in the feeling when you hear the clank of weights behind you. Seulgi has finished her set.

Before she can turn around, you quickly pull your cock out of Wendy’s mouth with a wet pop. She licks her lips once, giving you a mischievous little smirk, then smoothly sits up and grabs the barbell like she’s been doing bench presses the entire time.

You yank your shorts and boxers back up in one hurried motion, stepping behind the bench to “spot” her.

Seulgi turns around a second later, wiping sweat from her forehead. You don’t dare look at her. You’re terrified she’ll see the guilt written all over your face. Instead, your eyes stay glued to Wendy’s tight, toned tummy as she pretends to push the barbell up. The way her abs flex and glisten with a light layer of sweat is dangerously distracting.

Wendy does a few fake reps, breathing a little heavier than necessary, then racks the barbell with a satisfied sigh.

“Thanks for spotting.”

She says, glancing up at you with a teasing smile. Seulgi walks over, still catching her breath.

“You guys working out together?”

You nod stiffly, trying to act normal.

A little while later, Wendy is doing Romanian deadlifts near the wall, her back turned to both of you. Her tight leggings hug her ass and thighs perfectly as she bends forward, the motion slow and controlled.

Seulgi takes the opportunity. She walks over to you quietly while you’re pretending to adjust weights on a rack. Without warning, she presses herself against your side, rises onto her tiptoes, and pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss. Her tongue slides into your mouth immediately, kissing you with clear desperation. One of her hands grips the front of your shirt as she whispers against your lips.

“I want you so bad… I’ve been wet since you ate me out earlier…”

She grabs your wrist and boldly slips your hand into the front of her leggings. You immediately feel how soaked she is. Her pussy is hot and dripping. You push two fingers inside her without hesitation, curling them as you start fingering her slowly. Your other hand moves up under her sports bra, cupping one of her tits and squeezing it firmly, thumb brushing over her hard nipple. Seulgi whimpers quietly into your mouth, hips rolling against your hand as you finger her. Her pussy clenches around your fingers, still sensitive from her earlier orgasm.

“Please… I need you inside me again…”

You keep your hand buried in Seulgi’s leggings, two fingers thrusting steadily into her soaked pussy while your thumb circles her clit. She’s soaking wet, her juices coating your fingers and dripping down your palm as you finger-fuck her right there in the middle of the gym. Seulgi’s breathing is ragged. She leans back against you slightly, trying to stay quiet, but her voice comes out in desperate little whispers between shaky breaths.

“Please… I need your cock…”

She whimpers, trying to be quiet.

“I’ve been thinking about it since you ate my ass… I want you to fuck me again…”

You curl your fingers deeper, pressing against that sensitive spot inside her. Seulgi’s thighs tremble, her pussy clenching tightly around your digits as she struggles to keep her moans quiet.

“I’m so wet for you… please… just bend me over somewhere and fuck me…”

Her words are barely above a whisper, but they’re filthy and needy. She grinds down against your hand, chasing more friction while trying to look like she’s just resting between sets.

A few moments later, you hear the clank of weights as Wendy finishes her set. She lets out a satisfied breath and starts to turn around. You quickly pull your hand out of Seulgi’s leggings. Your fingers are absolutely drenched, glistening with her arousal. You sit down on the bench behind you, casually reaching for your water bottle like nothing happened, trying to act normal.

Wendy turns around, wiping sweat from her neck, and smiles at the two of you. Seulgi, meanwhile, quickly faces the mirror and starts doing squats right in front of you, legs shoulder-width apart, ass pushed back as she lowers herself down. Her tight leggings stretch perfectly over her round ass with every rep. You can still see the faint wet spot where your fingers had been, and every time she squats down, her ass pushes back toward you, only a couple feet away.

You take a slow sip of water, but your eyes are glued to her. Seulgi glances at you through the mirror, cheeks still flushed. She lowers herself into another deep squat, holding it for a second longer than necessary, clearly teasing you. Wendy walks over to grab her own water bottle, completely unaware of the tension, while Seulgi continues squatting right in front of you, ass flexing, leggings clinging to her curves, still dripping from your fingers.

You can’t tear your eyes away from Seulgi. You’re so focused on the sight that you completely forget about Wendy for a moment.

Until her voice suddenly whispers right next to your ear.

“Do you like Seulgi’s ass?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, heart slamming in your chest. You turn your head quickly, embarrassed heat rushing to your face. Wendy is standing right beside you. She has a small, amused smile on her lips as she watches Seulgi continue her squats, completely unaware.

“It’s fine.”

Wendy murmurs, her voice low so only you can hear.

“I think Seulgi’s ass is really hot too.”

You don’t know how to respond. Your mind is racing. Does Wendy know about you and Seulgi? About Irene? Or just about Yeri and Joy? How much have the girls been talking?

Before you can even think of a reply, Wendy’s hand sneaks down. She smoothly slips it into the front of your shorts, her fingers wrapping around your half-hard cock.

You stiffen, breath catching in your throat. Seulgi is still facing the mirror, focused on her form, completely distracted.

Wendy starts stroking you slowly, her grip firm and confident. She leans in closer, lips brushing your ear.

“Look at her… the way her ass moves when she squats. So fucking pretty.”

Her hand keeps moving inside your shorts. You’re getting harder by the second in her hand.

“She has no idea what I’m doing to you right now.”

Wendy whispers, voice dripping with mischief.

“Doesn’t that turn you on?”

You glance at Seulgi again - her ass pushing back toward you with every rep - while Wendy continues to stroke your cock, hidden from view but dangerously close to getting caught.

Wendy lets out a soft, amused hum against your ear.

“You’re getting so hard… You really do like her ass, huh?”

She keeps stroking you steadily, her breath warm against your skin, clearly enjoying the risky situation while Seulgi remains oblivious just a few feet away. Every time she lowers herself, her round ass pushes back toward you, the tight leggings stretching deliciously over her cheeks. The sight is hypnotic. Her ass flexing, thighs working, the subtle bounce when she rises again.

Wendy leans in closer.

“Look at how perfect her ass looks when she squats…”

You bite down on your lower lip, trying to suppress a groan. The combination of Wendy’s hand jerking you off and the view of Seulgi’s ass moving so enticingly in front of you is driving you insane. You know how risky this is - Seulgi is barely two meters away - but Wendy’s strokes feel too good to make her stop.

Your cock throbs in her hand. You’re rock hard now, breathing heavier than you should be while pretending to just watch Seulgi work out.

Seulgi lowers into another deep squat… then pauses at the bottom.

She turns her head slightly, clearly wanting to check if you’re watching her ass like she hopes you are.

The moment she does, she freezes. Her eyes widen. She sees Wendy standing right next to you, with her hand clearly buried inside your shorts, slowly stroking your cock. Seulgi’s mouth falls open in shock. Her cheeks flush instantly, a mix of surprise, jealousy, and something else flashing across her face all at once.

Wendy doesn’t stop stroking you. If anything, her grip tightens slightly, clearly unbothered by being caught. Seulgi’s gaze drops to the obvious motion of Wendy’s hand inside your shorts, then back up to your face. Her lips part, but no words come out.

The gym suddenly feels suffocatingly quiet.

Seulgi’s eyes fill with disappointment and betrayal. She was the one who invited you here. She was the one who let you eat her out just minutes ago. And now she’s watching Wendy stroke your cock like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Oh… so you two have already been playing together. I thought so. The way you two were acting earlier…”

Seulgi doesn’t say anything. She just stands there, breathing hard, clearly hurt.

You feel a heavy wave of guilt crash over you. Seulgi invited you. She was the one who wanted this “workout” session. And now she’s watching another woman - one of her group mates - jerking you off right in front of her.

Before you can say anything, Wendy speaks again.

“Why don’t the three of us do it together right now?”

She glances at Seulgi with a wicked little smile.

“No need to fight over him. We can share.”

Seulgi hesitates, clearly conflicted. Her eyes flick between you and Wendy, hurt still visible on her face. But underneath that, you can see the arousal. The way her thighs press together, the way her breathing hasn’t calmed down.

After a few long seconds, she bites her lip… and nods.

“…Okay.”

Wendy’s smile widens in satisfaction. She pulls her hand out of your shorts and both girls move. They drop to their knees right in front of you, side by side on the gym floor. Together, they tug your shorts and boxers down. Your hard cock springs free, and both girls lean in immediately. Wendy goes first, wrapping her lips around the head and sucking greedily while Seulgi starts licking along the side of your shaft. They work together, Wendy bobbing on the head while Seulgi licks and kisses the length, occasionally sucking on your balls. You groan softly, one hand resting on Wendy’s head, the other on Seulgi’s. The sight of both of them on their knees, tongues and lips working your cock together, is overwhelming. Seulgi looks up at you with those big, slightly hurt but still hungry eyes as she licks along your shaft, clearly trying to prove something. Wendy pulls off for a second, stroking you as she looks at Seulgi with a smirk.

“See? Sharing is better.”

Then she leans back in.

Wendy sucks on the head with wet, hungry slurps while Seulgi licks along the side of your shaft, sometimes moving down to suck on your balls. Their tongues occasionally meet, sliding against each other around your length in messy, filthy coordination. You groan quietly, one hand resting on Wendy’s head, the other now gently gripping Seulgi’s hair.

Between long, slow licks along your shaft, Seulgi looks up at you.

“I can’t wait to have your cock in my ass again…”

She murmurs, voice barely more than a needy moan.

“I’ve been thinking about it since last time…”

Wendy pulls off the head of your cock, eyes widening in surprise as she looks at Seulgi.

“Wait… you’ve actually taken his cock up your ass before?”

Seulgi lets out a soft, slightly cocky laugh, still licking along the underside of your shaft.

“Yeah. He fucked my ass really good.”

She says casually, then glances up at Wendy with a teasing smile.

“What? You’ve never tried it before?”

Wendy shakes her head, cheeks flushing a little.

“No… never.”

Seulgi’s smile turns mischievous. She leans in and drags her tongue slowly from the base of your cock all the way to the tip before speaking again.

“You should try it today. His cock feels incredible in your ass… especially when he gets rough.”

Wendy’s eyes flicker with clear interest. She looks back at your cock, now glistening with their combined spit, and licks her lips.

“Maybe I will…”

Wendy takes you back into her mouth, sucking greedily while Seulgi licks and kisses the side and balls. They work together seamlessly - trading the head every few seconds, licking along your length, occasionally kissing each other with your cock trapped between their lips.

The wet, sloppy sounds of their mouths and tongues fill the small gym corner as they continue sucking you off, talking filthily between licks and sucks.

“You gonna fuck both our asses today?”

Wendy hums around your cock in agreement, clearly intrigued by the idea now.

You can barely form a coherent thought. The sight and sensation of both girls eagerly worshipping your cock while casually talking about taking you in their asses is almost too much.

You can’t stop the filthy images flooding your mind. Bending both of them over the bench, one after the other. Fucking Seulgi’s tight ass first, then pulling out and sliding straight into Wendy’s, switching back and forth between their perfect asses while they moan and push back against you. The thought of taking turns stretching both of their holes makes your cock throb hard between their lips.

Wendy and Seulgi seem to sense your growing arousal. They suck you off with even more enthusiasm, Wendy deepthroating you while Seulgi licks and sucks on your balls, then switching so Seulgi can take you deep while Wendy strokes the base.

Between wet slurps and moans, Seulgi looks at Wendy, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I can teach you. How to take his cock in your ass… It feels so fucking good once you get used to it.”

Wendy pulls off your cock with a gasp. She looks genuinely intrigued, a flush creeping up her neck.

“You’d really show me?”

Seulgi smiles, clearly excited by the idea.

“Of course. We can do it right now.”

She turns her head toward you, still stroking your cock with one hand.

“Can you hand me the lube? It’s in my bag right behind you.”

You reach back without thinking, grabbing Seulgi’s small gym bag and handing it to her. She quickly rummages inside and pulls out a small bottle of lube, holding it up with a wicked little grin. Wendy’s eyes widen slightly as she stares at the bottle, but there’s clear excitement mixed with nervousness on her face. Seulgi leans in and gives the head of your cock another slow, teasing lick before looking up at both of you.

“You should fuck me from behind.”

She suggests, her eyes dark with lust.

“That way Wendy can hold my ass cheeks apart and get a really good view.”

You blink, slightly thrown off by how casually and comfortably she’s talking like this. Seulgi has always been the playful, sometimes bratty one, but this level of openness - especially with Wendy right here - feels new. Then again, you remind yourself, she’s close friends with you and Wendy is literally her group member. Of course she feels comfortable.

Seulgi doesn’t wait for a verbal answer. She stands up and climbs onto the flat bench on all fours, arching her back and pushing her ass toward you invitingly. Her tight leggings stretch tightly over her round cheeks. You get off the bench and step behind her. You can’t resist. You bring your hand down in a firm, loud slap against her right ass cheek.

Smack!

Seulgi gasps sharply, then bites her lip hard, letting out a needy little whimper. She wiggles her ass back toward you playfully.

“Another one, please…”

She murmurs teasingly.

You slap her left cheek this time, harder.

Smack!

Seulgi moans softly, her back arching deeper as she pushes her ass out even more.

You grab the waistband of her leggings and slowly peel them down over her hips, revealing her perfect, bare ass inch by inch. The fabric catches briefly on her thick cheeks before sliding down to her knees, fully exposing her. Her pussy is still visibly wet and swollen from earlier, and her tight little asshole twitches slightly under your gaze. Wendy has moved closer now, kneeling beside the bench, eyes glued to Seulgi’s ass with clear fascination and arousal.

Seulgi glances back over her shoulder at you.

“Go on… show her how you fucked my ass last time.”

You step closer behind Seulgi, your hands gripping her firm ass cheeks. You spread them wide apart, fully exposing both her dripping pussy and her tight little asshole. Seulgi lets out a shaky breath, already trembling in anticipation. You lean in and drag your tongue slowly from her clit all the way up, licking through her soaked folds before continuing higher. When your tongue circles her asshole, Seulgi’s entire body jolts.

“Ah-! Fuck-!”

She moans, pushing her ass back against your face.

You don’t hold back. You bury your face between her cheeks, eating her out with hungry, sloppy enthusiasm. Your tongue alternates between her pussy and her ass, long, wet licks through her dripping folds, then firm circles and teasing thrusts against her tight rim. Every time you push your tongue into her ass, Seulgi whimpers and shakes.

“Oh my god-yes-right there-eat my ass-!”

She’s melting fast. Her arms tremble as she tries to hold herself up on the bench, back arched deeply, pushing her ass harder against your mouth. Her moans grow louder and needier, completely shameless now.

Wendy watches intently from the side, kneeling beside the bench. Her eyes are dark with lust as she watches Seulgi fall apart under your tongue. One of her hands slowly slides down her own body, slipping between her thighs. She starts rubbing herself through her own leggings, pressing her fingers against her crotch as she bites her lip.

“Fuck… she looks so good like this.”

Wendy whispers, voice thick with arousal. Her hand moves in slow circles over her leggings, clearly getting turned on watching you devour Seulgi’s holes.

Seulgi’s legs are shaking violently now.

“Don’t stop-please-your tongue feels so fucking good in my ass-ahh-!”

You spread her cheeks even wider, burying your face deeper, alternating between sucking on her clit and tonguing her tight little hole. Seulgi is losing it completely, moaning loudly, hips pushing back desperately against your mouth.

Wendy’s breathing is getting heavier as she watches, her hand rubbing faster between her legs, eyes glued to the fascinating sight in front of her.

You finally pull your face back from Seulgi’s ass. Her holes are glistening with your spit, her pussy visibly dripping down her thighs. She whimpers at the loss of contact, pushing her ass back toward you needily. You reach for the bottle of lube Seulgi had taken out earlier. You pop the cap and pour a generous amount directly onto her ass, watching the thick, clear liquid drip down between her cheeks and over her tight little hole. You squeeze more onto your cock, stroking yourself a few times to coat every inch until you’re shiny and slick.

Seulgi shivers, letting out a soft, anticipatory moan. You look over at Wendy, who is still kneeling beside the bench, hand pressed between her own legs.

“Noona, hold her ass cheeks apart for me.”

Wendy’s eyes light up with clear excitement. She immediately moves closer, reaching out with both hands. She grabs Seulgi’s plump ass and spreads her cheeks wide, fully exposing her lubed-up hole.

“Like this?”

Wendy asks as she stares intently at Seulgi’s ass.

“Perfect.”

Seulgi lets out a shaky breath, her body trembling as she feels herself being held open. Wendy’s fingers dig into her soft flesh, keeping her spread nice and wide for you. You press the slick head of your cock against Seulgi’s tight asshole. You push forward slowly, watching as her rim stretches around your thick tip. Seulgi moans loudly, her back arching as you gradually sink into her.

“Oh fuck-you’re so big…”

You keep pushing until you’re buried halfway inside her tight, hot ass. The lube makes the slide smooth, but she’s still incredibly tight. Wendy watches with wide, fascinated eyes, biting her lip as she sees your cock disappearing into Seulgi’s ass.

You start fucking her slowly at first. Long, deep strokes. Then, gradually picking up the pace. Every thrust makes Seulgi moan louder, her body rocking forward on the bench. Wendy’s breathing grows heavier as she continues holding Seulgi’s cheeks apart, giving herself (and you) the perfect view of your cock sliding in and out of her member’s ass.

“Fuck… that looks so good.”

Wendy is completely mesmerized.

“Her ass is taking you so well…”

You keep thrusting into Seulgi’s tight, lubed-up ass with steady, deep strokes. The sensation is incredible. Every time you push in, her walls clench around you, and she lets out a shaky, needy moan.

“Fuck-your cock feels so good in my ass…”

Suddenly-

The sound of the gym door opening echoes through the space.

All three of you freeze instantly.

You, buried deep in Seulgi’s ass.

Wendy, still spreading her cheeks.

Seulgi, on all fours on the bench, leggings around her knees.

A male trainee - early twenties, wearing a black tank top and shorts - steps into the gym, holding a water bottle. He stops dead in his tracks the second he sees the scene in front of him.

His eyes go wide with pure shock.

Seulgi recognizes him first. Her face flushes deep red, but instead of panic, something bold flashes in her eyes.

The trainee stammers, completely bamboozled.

“I-I’m sorry-I didn’t know anyone was-I’ll just-”

Seulgi cuts him off, voice still shaky from being fucked.

“You can join us.”

She says, looking over her shoulder at him.

The words hang in the air.

Wendy’s eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t let go of Seulgi’s ass. You remain still, cock buried inside Seulgi, heart pounding as the situation suddenly spirals.

The male trainee stands there, mouth open, clearly unable to process what he’s seeing. Three famous idols in such a compromising, explicit position.

Seulgi bites her lip, then adds softly:

“Come here… you don’t have to just watch.”

You resume thrusting into Seulgi’s tight, lubed ass while Wendy holds her cheeks spread wide for you. Your cock disappears between her plump cheeks again and again. Wendy’s eyes are glued to the sight, until she glances at the trainee, who’s still standing there motionless, clearly hard underneath his shorts.

Wendy doesn’t hesitate. She motions for him to walk closer and lets go of Seulgi’s ass. Once he reaches her, she grabs the front of his shorts and yanks them down. His cock springs free. Wendy wraps her hand around his length and starts stroking him slowly, looking up at him with a filthy little smile.

“Look at you… already so hard just from watching him fuck Seulgi’s ass.”

She purrs, clearly liking the idea of seducing someone younger and more inexperienced than her.

“You like seeing your sunbaes act like this? Two famous girls being such dirty little sluts in the gym?”

He lets out a shaky breath, clearly overwhelmed but unable to look away.

Wendy leans in and takes him into her mouth without another word. She starts sucking him off with wet, eager bobs of her head, one hand stroking the base while her tongue swirls around the head.

You continue fucking Seulgi’s ass, your hips slapping against her cheeks rhythmically. Seulgi moans louder, pushing back against you, completely lost in the feeling.

“Fuck-keep going-keep going-!”

Wendy pulls off the trainee’s cock for a second, stroking him fast as strings of spit drip from her lips.

“She’s such a good little anal slut, isn’t she?”

Wendy teases him, then dives back down, sucking him deeper while you keep pounding Seulgi from behind. The older girl’s legs are shaking harder, her moans growing more desperate as you ruin her ass. Her tight ring grips you perfectly, slick from the lube. Every thrust draws out another broken, desperate moan from her.

Actually, Seulgi is barely able to form coherent sentences anymore, but she still tries to tease the trainee, her voice shaky and hoarse between moans.

“Have you… ahh-ever tried anal before…?”

She gasps, pushing her ass back against you.

“It feels so fucking good… you want my ass too… don’t you…?”

The trainee’s eyes are wide. He can barely speak. Wendy continues sucking him off eagerly, her head bobbing fast, spit dripping down her chin as she works his cock. She moans around him, clearly enjoying the filthy situation.

You glance over at the trainee for a moment.

It’s too much for him. His eyes roll back. He tries to warn Wendy, his voice cracking.

“W-Wendy-I’m-fuck-I’m gonna-”

He doesn’t even finish the sentence.

He cums hard, groaning loudly as he paints Wendy’s face with thick ropes of cum. The first shot lands across her cheek, the second on her lips and nose, the rest dripping down her chin and onto her chest. Wendy keeps sucking him through it, milking every drop until he’s spent and trembling. When he stops cuming, Wendy’s face is a beautiful mess, covered in the trainee’s cum, some of it dripping down onto her tits.

Seulgi looks over, still getting fucked in the ass, and lets out a breathless laugh.

“Wow… he came so fast.”

She teases, then looks at Wendy.

“Hey… do you want Jin-wol’s cock in your ass too?”

Wendy wipes a streak of cum from her cheek with her finger and licks it off, eyes dark with lust.

“Yeah…I want it.”

She answers, then looks up at the trainee.

“But first… I need to get you hard again. So you can fuck Seulgi’s ass while he fucks mine.”

His eyes widen again, clearly not believing what he’s hearing.

You keep thrusting into Seulgi’s tight, lubed-up ass with deep, rhythmic strokes. Her cheeks jiggle with every impact. The wet, filthy sound of your cock sliding in and out of her makes you dig your fingers into her waist harder. Seulgi’s moans are constant and needy, her body rocking forward on the bench with each thrust.

“Fuck-you’re gaping my ass …”

She pushes back against you, desperate for more.

Wendy, her face covered in the trainee’s cum, wraps her hand around his softening cock and starts stroking him slowly, leaning in to lick the remnants of his load off his shaft.

“Come on… get hard for me again. I want to watch you fuck Seulgi’s ass while he fucks mine.”

He lets out a shaky breath, but Wendy’s skilled hand and filthy words are already working. She leans forward and takes him back into her mouth, sucking gently at first, then with more purpose, bobbing her head as she tries to bring him back to full hardness.

Seulgi glances over at them, still getting her ass fucked, and lets out a breathless laugh mixed with a moan.

“Look at you… already trying to get hard again just so you can fuck my ass…”

She teases the trainee, voice trembling from your thrusts.

“You want it, don’t you? You want to stretch my tight little asshole…”

You keep pounding into Seulgi from behind, one hand gripping her hip while the other occasionally slaps her ass, making her whimper louder. Her walls clench around you, still incredibly tight despite how long you’ve been fucking her.

Wendy pulls off the trainee’s cock for a moment, stroking him firmly as she looks up at him with cum-streaked cheeks.

“He’s getting hard again.”

She says with a satisfied smile, then dives back down, sucking him deeper, determined to get him ready. He groans, his cock visibly twitching and starting to harden again in Wendy’s mouth as he watches you destroy Seulgi’s ass right in front of him.

Seulgi moans louder, clearly getting off on the entire filthy situation.

“Fuck me harder… show him how you ruin my ass…”

You continue fucking Seulgi’s ass with deep, controlled thrusts, savoring how tightly she clenches around you. Her moans are constant and shaky, her body rocking forward on the bench with every slap of your hips against her ass. Wendy continues sucking the trainee’s cock with wet, eager bobs of her head, her hand stroking what she can’t fit in her mouth. After a while, she pulls off with a slick pop.

“If I keep going, you’re gonna cum again too fast.”

She says playfully, licking her lips.

“And we can’t have that, can we?”

The trainee’s face turns bright red with embarrassment, but his cock twitches visibly in her hand.

You slowly pull out of Seulgi’s ass, watching her hole flutter and wink at the sudden emptiness. She lets out a soft, needy whine. You help Wendy climb onto the bench beside Seulgi, positioning both women on their backs, lying next to each other. Seulgi’s head is near Wendy’s thighs, and Wendy’s head is near Seulgi’s thighs.

You kneel down between Wendy’s spread legs first. You lean in and start eating her out, dragging your tongue from her dripping pussy down to her tight little asshole, licking and sucking both holes with slow strokes. Wendy gasps, her hips twitching as she feels your tongue on her.

Meanwhile, Seulgi turns her head slightly toward the trainee and hands him the bottle of lube.

“Put a lot on your cock.”

She instructs softly, still breathing hard from your pounding.

“And in my ass too. Make sure it’s really slippery… then you can fuck me.”

He takes the lube with slightly shaky hands, clearly nervous but extremely turned on. He squeezes a generous amount onto his cock and then positions the bottle at Seulgi’s hole.

You continue eating Wendy’s ass and pussy, tongue circling her tight rim while two fingers slide into her soaked cunt, curling them as you get her ready. Wendy’s moans grow louder, her hand reaching down to grip your hair.

Seulgi glances over at you and Wendy, then back at the trainee, her voice breathy but teasing.

“Go on… put it in my ass…”

You stay between Wendy’s legs, focusing entirely on her. Your tongue alternates between her dripping pussy and her tight little asshole. Long, slow licks through her folds, then firm circles and teasing thrusts against her rim. Wendy moans softly, her thighs trembling around your head as she enjoys your mouth.

In the background, you hear Seulgi’s breath hitch sharply.

“Ah-slow… fuck-you’re really putting it in my ass…”

You glance over just in time to see him slowly pushing his cock into Seulgi’s freshly lubed-up hole. He’s going slow, clearly nervous. Seulgi’s face is flushed red, mouth open in a moan as she takes him inch by inch. Once he’s fully buried, he starts fucking her ass with shallow, careful thrusts. Seulgi’s moans grow louder again, trying push against him.

“Fuck-yes-just like that…”

You turn your attention back to Wendy, sucking on her clit while sliding two fingers into her pussy. She lets out a shaky moan, one hand gripping your hair tighter. A few moments later, you stand up, your cock hard and throbbing. You motion toward the trainee.

“Lube.”

He is clearly lost in the feeling of Seulgi’s tight ass around him. It takes him a few seconds to register your words. He finally reaches over, grabs the bottle, and hands it to you with a dazed expression. You squeeze a generous amount onto your cock, stroking yourself to spread it evenly. Then you pour more directly onto Wendy’s asshole, watching the thick liquid drip down between her cheeks and onto the bench. Wendy watches you with pure excitement in her eyes, biting her lip as she spreads her legs wider for you. You press the slick head of your cock against her tight ring and start pushing in slowly. Wendy gasps sharply, her back arching off the bench as her asshole stretches around your thick cock.

“Oh my god… it’s so big…”

Her voice trembles with a mix of discomfort and pleasure. You keep pushing forward steadily, sinking deeper into her incredibly tight heat. Wendy’s hands grip the sides of the bench, moaning loudly as you fill her ass inch by inch.

Beside you, Seulgi is moaning just as loudly, getting fucked in the ass by the trainee at the same time.

You push deeper into Wendy’s tight, virgin ass, going slow and careful. She’s incredibly tight, her walls gripping you like a vice as you sink in inch by inch. Wendy’s mouth falls open in a silent gasp, her eyes wide as she feels herself stretch around your thick cock. Seulgi reaches out, searching for Wendy’s hand. Their fingers lock together tightly, holding onto each other as you two start picking up the pace just a little, still careful, but deeper and harder now.

Wendy squeezes Seulgi’s hand hard, letting out a shaky moan.

“Fuck… it’s so full…your cock is stretching my ass so much…”

Seulgi moans back, eyes half-lidded as the trainee fucks her ass.

“It gets better… just relax and take it… ahh-fuck, he’s getting deeper…”

You keep one hand on Wendy’s thigh, holding her leg open while you thrust into her ass. Your other hand slides up under her cropped top, squeezing one of her soft, perky tits roughly, pinching her nipple between your fingers.

Wendy arches her back, moaning louder as you play with her tits and fuck her ass at the same time.

“Oh god-yes-squeeze them harder-”

The trainee is breathing heavily, clearly in heaven as he fucks Seulgi’s ass. Seulgi looks over at Wendy, their fingers still tightly interlocked.

“Feels good, right? Getting your ass fucked while he plays with your tits…”

Wendy can only nod, another moan spilling from her lips as you thrust a little deeper.

Both girls are moaning and talking filthily now, holding hands while getting their asses fucked side by side on the bench. Their bodies rock in time with your thrusts, tits bouncing, legs shaking.

You continue squeezing and playing with Wendy’s tits, your cock sliding in and out of her tight ass while the trainee does the same to Seulgi right next to you.

The sight and sensation are overwhelming.

You keep thrusting into Wendy’s tight ass with deeper, more forceful strokes, your hips slapping against her cheeks as you bury yourself to the hilt again and again. At the same time, you move your hand from her thigh and find her clit, rubbing it in fast, firm circles with your fingers.

Wendy’s reaction is loud.

“Fuck! Yes-keep doing that!”

Beside you, the trainee watches what you’re doing and follows your lead. He leans forward, sliding one hand under Seulgi’s sports bra and groping her breast, squeezing and playing with her nipple as he continues fucking her ass.

Seulgi moans even louder, her back arching sharply.

“Ah-! Yes-just like that!”

Both girls get significantly louder now. Their moans and whimpers fill the gym as they hold hands tightly, bodies rocking from the thrusts. The obscene sound of two cocks sliding in and out of their lubed asses mixes with their desperate noises.

You rub Wendy’s clit faster, pinching it lightly between your fingers while you pound her ass with more power. Her tits bounce wildly under her crop top with every hard thrust. Her head falls back, eyes rolling as she loses herself completely.

“I’m-I’m so full-your cock in my ass feels so fucking good-!”

Seulgi glances over at her, moaning just as shamelessly while the trainee fucks her ass and gropes her tits.

“Take it… let him wreck your tight little hole…”

You keep the intense pace, fingers working Wendy’s clit relentlessly while your cock stretches her ass. The trainee matches your energy, slamming into Seulgi harder as he squeezes her breast.

Both girls are trembling, moaning louder and louder, completely lost in the filthy double anal fucking. You glance over at the trainee and Seulgi.

“Slap her tits. She likes it rough.”

The trainee’s eyes widen, his thrusts faltering for a second as he looks at Seulgi.

Seulgi whimpers in excitement, bucking her hips toward him desperately.

“Do it. Slap my tits while you fuck my ass-please-I want it-”

The trainee hesitates for only a moment longer before he reaches forward. He pulls her bra upward, off her tits. Then, his hand comes down in a firm slap across Seulgi’s left tit.

Seulgi moans loudly, her body jolting.

“Yes! Again!”

Encouraged, the trainee starts slapping her tits rhythmically as he fucks her ass harder, his thrusts becoming quicker and more frantic. Every slap makes Seulgi’s tits jiggle, her moans growing louder and more desperate.

You turn your full attention back to Wendy. You rub her clit faster while slamming into her ass, burying your cock to the hilt with every thrust. Wendy’s moans turn into sharp, broken cries as she gets closer and closer.

Suddenly, Wendy’s entire body seizes up.

“I’m-I’m cuming-fuck-!”

She squirts hard, a powerful jet of clear fluid gushing out around your cock and soaking your shirt, her stomach, and even splashing across Seulgi’s face. Wendy shakes violently, her ass clenching rhythmically around your cock as she rides out her intense orgasm. The surprise of squirting makes her cry out even louder. But you don’t stop. You keep fucking her ass through her climax, drawing out every wave until her body slowly starts to calm down, trembling and whimpering.

The feeling of Wendy squirting all over her face pushes Seulgi over the edge too. Her eyes roll back as she cums hard, her ass clamping down fiercely around the trainee’s cock.

“I’m cuming-! Fuck-my ass-!”

She screams, her body spasming on the bench. Her tits bounce as the trainee keeps slapping them and frantically thrusting into her ass, clearly on the verge himself.

You and the trainee exchange a quick, silent glance. Without a word, you both slowly pull out of their asses at the same time. Seulgi and Wendy are both breathing hard, bodies still twitching from their orgasms. You both move so that you stand on either side of them. Wendy reaches up first, wrapping her hand around your cock and stroking you fast and firm. Seulgi does the same to the trainee, her hand moving quickly along his length.

Both girls look up at you with flushed, fucked-out faces, still covered in sweat and cum.

“Come on.”

Wendy moans, stroking you faster, her face still covered in drying cum.

“Cum for me…”

Seulgi looks at the trainee with a wicked little smile.

“Paint me… I want it all…”

You groan deeply as you explode, thick ropes of cum shooting across Wendy’s toned stomach and abs. At the same time, the trainee groans and unloads onto Seulgi, painting her stomach and tits with his load. Their midriffs and waists get hit with spurts of cum. One after another. Seulgi’s abs are barely visible beneath the milky white, while your cum runs down the sides of Wendy’s waist. Both girls moan as they’re covered, stroking you through your orgasms until you’re completely spent.

Wendy and Seulgi look down at their cum-covered stomachs, breathing hard, a mix of satisfaction and lingering lust on their faces.

The gym is silent except for the heavy breathing of all four of you.

You’re sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone. The apartment is quiet. Karina is out for a late schedule, and Giselle hasn’t come back yet. Perfect timing.

You had texted Ningning earlier after she messaged you that she has everything you asked of her and that she’s waiting for you. Her last reply had been short, but you could feel the mix of nervousness and excitement even through the screen.

The doorbell rings.

You get up, buzz her into the building, then sit back down on the couch, heart beating a little faster in anticipation. A few minutes later, there’s a soft knock on the apartment door.

You don’t get up.

“Come in.”

You call out. The door opens slowly. Ningning steps inside.

She closes the door behind her with a quiet click and stands there in the entryway, hands fidgeting with the hem of her tiny white skirt.

She’s wearing exactly what you had in mind.

A sheer, see-through mesh top that barely covers anything, her black bra clearly visible underneath. The white skirt is ridiculously short, barely covering the tops of her thighs. The straps of her panties are clearly visible on her waist. Her legs are covered in torn fishnet stockings, and on her neck sits the delicate black choker with the word “slut” spelled out in silver letters.

Ningning stands still, cheeks burning red. She can’t even look you in the eyes at first. Her gaze is fixed on the floor, shoulders slightly hunched in embarrassment, but you can see the excited sparkle in her eyes when she finally dares to glance up at you.

“Hi.”

She says quietly, almost whispering. Her voice is shy, but there’s a tremble of anticipation underneath it.

You don’t say anything right away. You just lean back on the couch and take your time admiring her.

Your eyes slowly drag over her body. From the way the sheer top clings to her chest and shows off her toned midriff, down to the tiny skirt that looks like it could ride up with the slightest movement, and the fishnets hugging her smooth legs. The “slut” choker sits perfectly against her neck, completing the look.

Ningning shifts her weight from one foot to the other, clearly feeling your gaze like a physical touch. Her cheeks grow even redder, but she doesn’t try to cover herself. She just stands there, letting you look.

“Turn around for me.”

Ningning bites her lip, then slowly turns, giving you a full view of her ass in that tiny skirt. The hem barely covers the bottom of her cheeks. You let the silence stretch for a few more seconds, drinking in the sight of her dressed exactly how you wanted. Embarrassed, shy, but clearly excited to be here for you.

Ningning glances over her shoulder at you.

“Is this okay?”

You lean back on the couch, eyes slowly dragging over Ningning’s body once more before you speak.

“It’s okay. Go get me a drink.”

Ningning freezes for a second. You see the way she bites her lip, her jaw tightening. There’s clear resistance in her eyes. That familiar proud, bratty spark flaring up. Being ordered around like this obviously doesn’t sit well with her. For a moment, you think she might refuse.

But after a few tense seconds, she lowers her gaze and turns toward the kitchen without a word.

You watch her walk away, the tiny white skirt swaying with every step, the sheer top doing almost nothing to hide her body. A strange, intoxicating sense of power washes over you. It feels weird… almost wrong. But at the same time, it’s thrilling. You’re surprised how much of Ningning’s pride you’ve already managed to chip away at. Part of you wonders just how far you could push her tonight.

But you quickly push that thought aside. You don’t want to be cruel. You just want to teach her a lesson.

A minute later, Ningning returns. She’s holding a glass of whiskey with ice, her steps careful. She stops in front of you and extends her arm, handing you the glass. You take it, letting your fingers brush against hers on purpose. Ningning’s eyes flicker with annoyance, but she doesn’t pull away immediately.

She stands there for a moment, clearly waiting. Then, with a slightly sharp edge to her voice, she asks:

“What do you want me to do next?”

The question comes out polite on the surface, but there’s a clear hint of irritation underneath. That stubborn, prideful part of her is refusing to disappear completely.

You take a slow sip of the whiskey as you look her up and down again.

Ningning shifts her weight, waiting for your command, her cheeks still faintly flushed with a mix of embarrassment and reluctant excitement.

You take another slow sip of whiskey, letting the silence stretch as you watch Ningning stand there in front of you.

You’re genuinely surprised at how easy it was. Just a little neglect, a little withholding of attention, and Ningning - the proud, sharp-tongued, gorgeous Ningning - had started cracking. She went from calling Giselle a slut and whore to showing up at your door dressed like this, waiting for your next command.

Now the real lesson could begin.

You set the glass down and lean forward slightly, eyes locked on hers.

“Did you get rid of the ‘dumbass’ I wrote on your back?”

Ningning’s body visibly tenses. For a split second, something flickers in her eyes. Regret, embarrassment, maybe even a hint of shame. She quickly looks away, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Yes, I scrubbed it off.”

You catch that glint of regret again before she hides it.

You glance around the living room for a moment, then nod toward the small drawer in the side table next to the couch.

“Open that drawer and bring me the black marker inside it.”

Ningning hesitates again. You can see the internal battle. That proud part of her hates every second of this, but the needy, curious part is winning out. After a few seconds, she walks over to the drawer, opens it, and pulls out the thick black marker. She comes back and holds it out to you, standing right in front of you.

You don’t take it immediately. Instead, you look up at her, letting the tension build.

“Turn around.”

Ningning swallows hard, then slowly turns, presenting her back to you. The short skirt rides up dangerously as she moves, barely covering her ass.

You finally take the marker from her hand.

But you can’t help yourself. As Ningning stands there obediently in front of you, you reach forward and slide your hand under the tiny white skirt. Your palm makes direct contact with her bare ass cheek. You squeeze it hard - possessively, fingers digging into the soft, warm flesh.

Ningning gasps sharply, her whole body jolting. She stumbles forward a half-step, knees weakening at the sudden touch. You give her ass one more firm squeeze before pulling your hand back.

“Strip. Top first. I want your back exposed.”

Ningning hesitates for only a second, then reaches down and slowly pulls the sheer mesh top up and over her head. She drops it onto the floor. Next, she reaches behind herself and unhooks her bra. The straps slide down her shoulders, and she lets the bra fall away as well. You have to physically stop yourself from telling her to turn around. The urge to see her naked tits from the front is strong, but you hold back. Not yet.

Instead, you pat your thigh.

“Come here. Sit.”

Ningning turns slightly and carefully lowers herself onto your lap, sitting sideways so her back is facing you. She reaches up, gathers her long dark hair, and pulls it over one shoulder, fully exposing her smooth back to you.

You uncap the black marker with a soft click. The sound makes Ningning shiver slightly. You place the tip against her skin, right underneath her shoulder blades, and slowly write the word again in bold letters.

DUMBASS

Ningning shudders hard the moment the marker touches her skin. You feel her body tense on your lap, a mix of deep humiliation and reluctant excitement running through her. Her breathing becomes heavier.

You take your time, making sure each letter is clear and dark against her skin. When you finish, you recap the marker and admire your work. Ningning stays perfectly still on your lap, back straight, hair still gathered over her shoulder. You can feel the tension in her body, the way she’s both embarrassed and strangely aroused by being marked like this again.

You rest one hand on her lower back, just below the fresh writing, and gently stroke her skin with your thumb.

“Good girl.”

Ningning lets out a tiny, shaky breath at the praise. She doesn’t turn around, but you can see the way her shoulders tremble slightly.

She’s waiting for your next command.

“What’s next?”

You trace a lazy circle with your thumb on her back.

“Give me another word. Something I can write on your back.”

You expect something soft. Something that softens the humiliation.

“Good girl”

“Pretty”

“Gorgeous”

Something that lets her keep a sliver of pride.

Instead, Ningning stays silent for a long few seconds. You can feel her body tense on your lap.

Then, barely above a whisper, trembling with embarrassment:

“…Slut.”

The word hangs in the air. You hide your surprise well, keeping your expression neutral.

Ningning’s voice cracks slightly as she continues, clearly fighting herself.

“Write… ‘slut’ on me.”

You can feel the rush of humiliation rolling through her body. Her shoulders tremble. But underneath that shame, something else is happening - a dark, twisted excitement. She hates that she’s getting off on this. Hates that degrading herself like this is making her wet. But she can’t stop it.

You don’t acknowledge her internal struggle. You simply uncap the marker again, as if this was entirely her idea.

“Hold still.”

You press the tip to her right shoulder blade and slowly write the word:

SLUT

Ningning shudders hard the entire time the marker scrapes across her skin. You can feel her breathing quicken, her thighs pressing together on your lap. The humiliation is intense… but so is the rush of thrill flooding her veins.

When you finish, Ningning stays quiet for a moment, clearly processing the new word now written on her back alongside the old one. Then, in a small, shy voice:

“…Next time… can I watch?”

She swallows hard, embarrassed by her own request.

“I want to see what it looks like… while you write on me.”

You don’t answer right away. You simply rest your hand on her lower back again, fingers brushing just below the fresh “SLUT” you wrote.

“You want to watch next time? Then you have to earn it.”

Ningning nods eagerly, almost too quickly. Her voice is breathy with a mix of shame and excitement.

“I’m ready… for whatever you want.”

You lean back on the couch.

“Then suck my cock.”

A visible spark of happiness flashes across her face. Ningning quickly slides off your lap and turns around to face you. She’s standing in front of you wearing nothing but the tiny white skirt and the “slut” choker. Her perky tits and toned stomach are completely exposed. You take a moment to admire her. Then, she drops to her knees between your legs without hesitation. Her fingers are quick and excited as she undoes your belt and pulls down your zipper. She tugs your pants and boxers down just enough to free your hard cock, which springs up in front of her face.

You watch her closely. Ningning is enjoying this humiliation a little too much. Her eyes are sparkling, cheeks flushed, lips parted. She’s supposed to be learning a lesson about calling Giselle a slut, but right now she looks like she’s exactly where she wants to be.

You tilt your head slightly.

“Is Ningning really this excited to suck my cock?”

She freezes for a second, fingers wrapped around your shaft. The question hits her exactly where you wanted it to. You see the hesitation in her eyes as she seems to get the hint of what you’re trying to do - forcing her to confront her own behavior.

Ningning bites her lip.

“Ningning is really excited for your cock.”

The switch to third person comes naturally, like she’s surrendering to it.

She leans forward and eagerly takes you into her mouth, sucking your dick with obvious hunger. Her tongue swirls around the head before she sinks deeper, moaning softly around your length.

“Nngh… Ningning loves sucking oppa’s cock…”

She mumbles between slurps, clearly getting off on the degradation. You lean back, one hand resting on the back of her head as she bobs on your cock, the “slut” choker moving with every motion of her swallowing.

Ningning is lost in it after only a few bobs of her head. Her eyes turn watery, her cheeks hollowed, clearly loving the humiliation more than she probably should. She doesn’t hold back, leaning forward eagerly, wrapping her soft lips around the head of your cock and taking you deeper again and again. She does her best, sucking with genuine effort, hollowing her cheeks, swirling her tongue around the shaft as she bobs her head. Within seconds, she’s already getting messy. Spit drips from the corners of her mouth, running down her chin and onto her exposed tits as she tries to take more of you.

“Mmmph… Ningning wants to be good…”

She mumbles again around your cock, the words muffled and wet.

She pushes herself further, gagging softly when the tip hits the back of her throat, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she forces herself deeper, eyes watering as thick strings of saliva spill from her lips and drip onto your balls. The wet, sloppy sounds of her sucking fill the living room.

Your head rolls back against the couch, a deep groan escaping your throat at the intense pleasure. Her mouth feels incredible: warm, eager, and getting sloppier by the second. You have to fight to stay in control, fingers tightening in her hair as she works you over.

But even through the haze of pleasure, your mind is still working.

She still doesn’t fully get it, you think. Ningning had been so quick to call Giselle a slut and a whore, acting all high and mighty. Yet here she is, on her knees, dressed like a cheap whore, choking on your cock with “SLUT” and “DUMBASS” written on her back. The hypocrisy is glaring… but she’s clearly getting off on it.

For a brief moment, you consider reaching for your phone. You could call Giselle right now, put her on speaker, and make Ningning apologize while she sucks your cock. Or even better, tell Giselle to come over so she can watch what a pathetic slut Ningning really is.

The thought is tempting. But Ningning’s mouth feels too fucking good.

Her head bobs faster as you try to think, spit running freely down your shaft as she slurps and gags on you. The wet, messy sounds combined with her soft, desperate moans around your cock make it impossible to focus on anything else.

You let out a low groan and lean back further, deciding to deal with the lesson later. Right now, you just want to enjoy her.

Ningning looks up at you through watery eyes, mascara starting to smudge, lips stretched wide around your cock as she sucks you like she’s trying to prove something.

She pulls off just long enough to gasp.

“Ningning… will be a good slut for you… please use her mouth…”

Then she dives back down, taking you even deeper, determined to make you feel good.

She’s sucking you with messy, sloppy devotion, head bobbing eagerly, spit dripping freely from her stretched lips and running down her chin in thick strings. It drips onto her exposed tits, making them glisten, and some of it falls onto your balls and thighs. The wet, filthy sounds of her gagging and slurping fill the living room as she tries her hardest to take you deeper, eyes watering, mascara starting to run.

“Nngh… glk-Ningning wants to be good…”

She mumbles around your cock, the words garbled and wet.

You lean back on the couch, groaning softly as you watch her. Your hand rests on the back of her head, guiding her rhythm. While she slobbers all over your shaft, your mind wanders.

“What should I write on her next?”

She’s doing all of this just so she can watch you write something on her body. The thought makes you smirk. You consider a few options:

“Good Girl”

“Whore”

“Property”

But nothing feels quite right yet.

Ningning gags again, pushing herself deeper, spit bubbling at the corners of her mouth as she works you with desperate enthusiasm.

That’s when the idea hits you.

You gently tug her hair, pulling her off your cock. She comes up with a wet gasp, strings of saliva still connecting her full lips to your throbbing length. She looks up at you with clear disappointment mixed with excitement.

“Stand up.”

Ningning hesitates for half a second, clearly not wanting to stop sucking your cock, but she obeys. She rises to her feet, standing in front of you.

You pat your thigh.

“Put your foot here.”

Ningning trembles visibly as she lifts her right leg and places her foot on your thigh, the short skirt riding up dangerously high. The position leaves her completely exposed with her soaked panties and probably her ass on full display.

You uncap the marker again. Ningning bites her lip, breathing fast, clearly nervous but also incredibly turned on by what’s about to happen.

You press the tip of the marker against the smooth skin of her inner thigh, right below the hem of her skirt.

COCK SUCKER

When you finish, you recap the marker.

“You’ve earned it.”

You say simply, admiring your work on her skin.

Ningning looks down at the fresh writing on her thigh, her face burning with humiliation. But a fresh trickle of arousal runs down her inner thigh. She’s soaking wet.

“…Thank you.”

She hesitates for a long moment, biting her lip hard before continuing in an even softer voice.

“Can Ningning… show you that her pussy is just as good as her mouth? Please…? Will you write something for her pussy too…?”

The request is so shameless, so eager, that it makes you pause. You pretend to think about it, leaning back on the couch and studying her. On one hand, she’s clearly too into this, enjoying the humiliation far more than you expected. The lesson about her hypocrisy toward Giselle is getting lost somewhere in her arousal.

Still… you decide to just have fun with it for now. You can try to make her properly apologize to Giselle next time.

You nod slowly.

“Lie down on the couch.”

Ningning’s eyes light up with nervous enthusiasm. She quickly moves to lie on her back, the tiny skirt riding up around her waist. She looks at you, breathing fast, legs slightly parted. You stand up and step between her spread thighs. Without a word, you reach down and hook your fingers into the waistband of her soaked panties. You pull them to the side, fully exposing her dripping wet pussy. She’s absolutely drenched, her folds glistening, clit swollen, a thin string of arousal stretching as you move the fabric away.

Ningning whimpers softly at the exposure, her hips twitching. You grip your cock and press the head against her entrance. She’s so wet that you slide in easily, pushing forward in one slow, steady motion until you’re buried halfway inside her tight heat.

Ningning’s back arches off the couch with a loud moan.

“Ah! Ningning’s pussy… feels so full…”

You keep pushing until you bottom out, your hips pressed flush against her. Her walls clench around you greedily, hot and soaking wet.

You stay there for a moment, savoring the feeling, looking down at her flushed face and exposed body, marked thighs, “slut” choker, and now your cock buried deep inside her.

Ningning looks up at you with glassy, desperate eyes, clearly waiting for you to start moving.

You grip Ningning’s hips firmly and start thrusting into her - hard, but slow.

Each stroke is deep and powerful. You pull back almost all the way, until only the head remains inside her, then drive forward with controlled force, burying every inch of your cock into her tight, soaked pussy. The head of your cock kisses her cervix with every thrust, pressing against that deep, sensitive spot inside her.

Ningning’s eyes flutter and quickly go cross-eyed.

“Ah! Fuck-so deep-”

You keep the same punishing rhythm: slow withdrawal, then a hard, merciless thrust that makes her whole body jolt. Her pussy clenches tightly around you every time you bottom out, her walls fluttering wildly as you grind against her cervix. Ningning’s head falls back against the couch, mouth hanging open. Her eyes remain crossed, completely unfocused as pleasure overwhelms her. She tries to speak, but it quickly turns into incoherent mumbling.

“So-big… hitting so deep… Ningning’s-ahh-pussy… feels so full… mmmph-”

Her hands clutch desperately at the couch cushions, knuckles turning white. Every slow, hard thrust makes her tits bounce and her stomach tighten visibly. She’s a complete mess already, drooling slightly, eyes crossed, mumbling broken words between shaky moans.

“Cock… so deep… cervix-ah-! Ningning can’t-can’t th-think- fuck-!”

You don’t speed up. You keep fucking her with those deep, heavy strokes, making sure she feels every single inch dragging along her walls and pressing against her cervix again and again. The wet, lewd sound of your cock plunging into her soaked pussy fills the living room. Ningning’s legs start shaking uncontrollably. Her mumbling becomes even more broken, almost unintelligible.

“Too-deep… gonna-break me…Ningning’s-sl-slutty pussy… loves it… ahh-!”

She looks completely fucked stupid, eyes crossed, tongue slightly hanging out, body jolting with every powerful thrust. The only thing keeping her from sliding off the couch is your firm grip on her hips.

You maintain that slow, devastating rhythm, pulling back almost completely, then driving forward with powerful, controlled force. Each thrust bottoms out deep inside Ningning, the head of your cock pressing firmly against her cervix before you drag back out again.

Ningning is falling apart faster than you expected. Her eyes are crossed, her mouth hangs open, and broken, incoherent moans spill from her lips with every deep stroke. Her pussy clenches and flutters madly around you, soaking your cock and thighs.

Why is she breaking so easily? you wonder, watching her tremble beneath you. Is it because you denied her for so long? Or is she really getting off this hard on being degraded?

The thought of stopping, just to tease her, to piss her off and make her beg, flickers through your mind. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. Her pussy feels too fucking good. Tight, hot, and soaking wet, gripping you like it never wants to let go. Every slow, powerful thrust makes her walls ripple around you. You can’t stop. Not yet.

Instead, you start fucking her quicker. Your hips snap forward faster, still deep and hard, but with less restraint. The wet sounds of your cock plunging into her drenched cunt grow louder and more obscene.

Ningning’s moans turn sharper, more desperate.

“Ah-! Fuck-! Too fast-Ningning-can’t-ahh-!”

You reach down and grab a fistful of her long dark hair. You pull her head up firmly, forcing her upper torso to lift off the couch like she’s doing a painful sit-up. Her back arches, tits bouncing with every thrust as you hold her up by her hair.

Ningning’s eyes roll back even further, her mouth wide open in a silent scream before a loud, broken cry escapes her.

“Fuuuuck-! Oppa-! My hair-it hurts but feels so good-!”

Her pussy clenches around your cock from the new angle and the rough treatment. She’s completely at your mercy now, upper body lifted, back arched, getting fucked senseless while you hold her up by her hair. You keep pounding into her faster, watching her face contort in overwhelming pleasure, completely lost in the feeling of your cock destroying her pussy, your hips snapping forward relentlessly. Each powerful stroke makes her body jolt, her tight walls fluttering and squeezing around your cock as you stretch her open again and again.

Ningning’s voice cracks as she begs, eyes still crossed in overwhelming pleasure.

“Harder-please-pull Ningning’s hair harder-!”

You groan, gripping her hair tighter in your fist and yanking her head forward even more. Her upper body stays lifted off the couch, back arched as you fuck her senseless.

“Fuck… your pussy is amazing. So tight and wet for me.”

Ningning whimpers loudly at the praise, her pussy clenching even harder around you. Between broken moans, she manages to gasp.

“Has… has Ningning earned… another writing…?”

You don’t slow down. You keep pounding into her as you answer.

“Yeah. You have.”

Ningning’s voice trembles with excitement and shame.

“Please… write ‘cum dump’… on Ningning’s other thigh…”

You smirk, still fucking her hard. Instead of answering with words, you release her hair and quickly hook two fingers into her mouth, your fingertips pressing against the backside of her teeth, pulling back slightly to keep her upper body in that arched position. Your fingers press down on her tongue, your knuckles hold up the roof of her mouth, effectively gagging her and stopping her from talking.

“You haven’t made me cum yet. So you don’t get to claim that title for yourself.”

Ningning can only moan and drool around your fingers, eyes watering as you continue to thrust into her pussy. You reach over with your free hand, grab the marker, and uncap it.

It’s difficult to write properly while you’re still fucking her, but you manage. You press the marker against the smooth skin of her other inner thigh and write in shaky, bold letters.

WORTHLESS

Ningning’s eyes widen as she watches you write it. She mewls loudly around your fingers, a fresh wave of humiliation and arousal crashing through her. Her pussy spasms hard around your cock, clearly getting off on being marked like this.

You finish the last letter and toss the marker aside, then pull your fingers out of her mouth. Ningning gasps for air, drool running down her chin as she looks down at the fresh writing on her thighs - “COCK SUCKER” on one, “Worthless” on the other.

She’s shaking, completely overwhelmed, but her eyes are filled with desperate lust.

Giselle stands alone in the elevator, watching the numbers slowly climb toward the right floor. She bites her lower lip, her mind already drifting somewhere it shouldn’t.

A warm bath sounds perfect right now. Maybe some nice takeout, a glass of wine, and then… some quality “me time” in bed. She can already picture it, lying back, legs spread, fingers between her thighs while she imagines you on top of her. The way you pinned her against the door that night. The way your fingers felt inside her. The way you made her cum so hard she nearly collapsed.

She shakes her head sharply, annoyed at herself.

“Stop it. Seriously.”

She’s thinking about you way too much lately. At this point, she might as well just start dating you herself. The thought makes her cheeks burn. She wonders, for a brief, ridiculous moment, what Karina would say if she actually asked her.

“Hey, unnie… is it okay if I date your boyfriend?”

Giselle groans quietly and leans her forehead against the cool metal wall of the elevator.

The public would lose their minds. The scandal. The headlines. The hate comments. The endless drama. And yet… the fantasy still lingers. Your hands on her body. Your voice in her ear. The way you looked at her like you wanted to ruin her.

She lets out another frustrated sigh.

“God… why does he have to be so fucking hot?”

The elevator dings softly as it reaches your floor. The doors slide open. Giselle straightens up, trying to push the dirty thoughts out of her head as she steps into the hallway. But they cling to her anyway.

She imagines slipping into your bed while you and Karina are gone, lying naked between your sheets, touching herself right where you sleep. The thrill of it makes her stomach flutter. Would you unconsciously smell her on your pillow later? Would you dream about her while lying next to Karina?

The idea is so wrong… but so exciting.

She shakes her head, annoyed at herself again, but the heat between her legs doesn’t fade. She unlocks the apartment door and steps inside, still lost in her fantasy. She kicks off her shoes by the entrance, bending down to place them neatly.

Only when she straightens up does she finally look forward. Her heart nearly stops.

Ningning is bent over the kitchen table, completely naked except for a black choker around her neck that clearly says “SLUT” in silver letters. Her tits are pressed against the tabletop, and Giselle can clearly see the word “IDIOT” written in thick black marker across one of them.

Behind her, you’re standing tall, fucking Ningning hard from behind. One of your hands grips her waist, the other is tangled in her hair, fingers digging into her forehead as you pull her head back, forcing her to arch. The wet, regular sound of your cock slamming into her pussy fills the apartment.

Ningning’s eyes are half-lidded, mouth open in a moan, her body jolting forward with every thrust.

Giselle almost screams.

Her hand flies up to cover her mouth as her eyes go wide in pure shock. The bag in her other hand slips from her fingers and drops to the floor with a dull thud.

Both you and Ningning turn their heads at the sound.

For a second, time seems to freeze.

Ningning’s face burns crimson, but she doesn’t try to pull away. Your hips slow, but you don’t pull out. Your cock stays buried deep inside Ningning as you stare at Giselle.

And Giselle stands there, frozen in the entrance, heart hammering in her chest, unable to tear her eyes away from the obscene sight in front of her. For a few long, suffocating seconds, the entire apartment seems to stop breathing.

Ningning’s face burns with humiliation as she realizes who just walked in. But you recover first. You reach down and gently take the marker out of Ningning’s fingers. Then, without pulling out of her, you look straight at Giselle and motion with the marker for her to come closer.

Giselle hesitates, clearly overwhelmed, but you speak calmly.

“This is how you two are going to get over your fight.”

She stands there for a few more seconds, conflicted, before she slowly walks over. Her eyes flick between you and Ningning, taking in every humiliating detail.

You lean down closer to Ningning’s ear, still buried inside her, and speak low enough for only her to hear.

“Out of the two of you… you’re the biggest slut. Bent over like this, marked up, getting fucked by your friend’s boyfriend.”

Ningning whimpers pathetically. Her panties are still stuffed in her mouth, so all she can manage is a weak, muffled:

“Mmmph… ‘m sowwy…”

You shake your head.

“That’s not enough.”

You pull the marker cap off with your teeth and hand the marker to Giselle.

“Write whatever you want.”

Giselle stares at the marker, then at Ningning’s flushed, marked-up body. Ningning looks up at her with glassy, apologetic, yet strangely lustful eyes and gives a small, shaky nod. Giselle bites her lip, clearly battling with herself. Then, with a mix of hesitation and dark satisfaction, she leans forward.

She presses the marker to Ningning’s forehead.

BITCH

Ningning shudders hard at the fresh humiliation, despite not even being able to tell completely what Giselle wrote, a broken whimper escaping around the panties in her mouth. Her pussy clenches tightly around your cock as Giselle finishes writing.

The older one steps back, staring at her handiwork. The word “BITCH” now sits prominently across Ningning’s forehead, joining all the other degrading labels on her body.

You stay buried deep inside Ningning, your cock throbbing in her tight, soaked pussy as you look over at Giselle.

“Go on. Write whatever you want. She’s earned it.”

Giselle hesitates again. You can see the conflict in her eyes. Part of her wants to be nice, to show mercy. But another part, the darker, more aroused part, is clearly winning. Both girls are visibly turned on by this. Ningning’s pussy keeps clenching steadily around you, and Giselle’s thighs press together as she stares at the already-marked body in front of her.

She finally walks slowly around the table, circling Ningning like a predator. Her eyes trace the words already written. “DUMBASS” on her back, “SLUT” on her shoulder blade, “COCK SUCKER” and “WORTHLESS” on her thighs.

She stops behind Ningning, staring at her exposed ass. Then she leans down and writes in bold letters across one of her ass cheeks:

WHORE

Ningning whimpers, her pussy trembling hard around your cock.

You lean in close to Giselle’s ear.

“You can do better than that.”

Giselle shivers as your breath brushes her skin. Goosebumps rise along her neck and arms. You reach up, gently tilt her chin with your fingers, and make her look at you.

“Unfortunately, Giselle… you aren’t as innocent as you’d like to be either.”

Her eyes widen. You hold her gaze and continue.

“Tell Ningning what happened.”

Giselle’s cheeks burn red. She hesitates, clearly embarrassed, but the heat in the room and the way Ningning is trembling beneath you seems to push her forward.

She swallows hard, then speaks quietly.

“…You fingered me right outside your bedroom door… while we listened to Karina touching herself. You made me cum while she was moaning your name.”

The confession hangs in the air.

You feel Ningning’s pussy react instantly, gripping your cock as a fresh wave of arousal floods through her. She lets out a muffled, humiliated whimper around the panties still stuffed in her mouth, her whole body shuddering at the revelation.

Giselle stands there, breathing faster, clearly ashamed but also visibly turned on by admitting it out loud. Ningning’s hips twitch back against you, her pussy dripping down your shaft as the humiliation sinks deeper. You stay buried inside her, one hand still on her waist, savoring the way her body reacts to the truth. You watch Giselle carefully as she stands there, marker still in her hand. Her cheeks are flushed deep red, eyes wide with shame… but there’s no hiding the way her thighs press together. Or the way her nipples are visibly hard through her top. She’s ashamed of what she just confessed, but she’s also incredibly turned on by it.

You reach out and gently take the marker from her fingers.

“How long have you been fantasizing about sleeping with me?”

You ask straight out.

Giselle’s eyes widen. She opens her mouth, trying to stammer something, but no coherent words come out. Her face burns even hotter. Before she can find her voice, you take her left arm and turn it. You press the marker to her smooth skin and write.

BAD FRIEND

Giselle shudders hard the moment the words appear on her arm. Her knees weaken for a second. She stares down at the fresh writing. She starts breathing faster.

She had been telling herself the same thing for weeks. That she was a terrible friend to Karina. But seeing it written on her skin, acknowledged out loud by you… it hits differently. The humiliation makes her legs tremble.

You cap the marker, then look at her.

“You have two choices. You can go take a shower right now and wash that off… or you can join Ningning and have some fun with us.”

Giselle hesitates, visibly torn. Her eyes dart between you and Ningning, who is still bent over the table, marked up, panties in her mouth, your cock buried deep inside her pussy. Then Giselle’s gaze slowly rakes over your body. She lingers on your chest. Your arms. The way your hips are pressed against Ningning’s ass. Weeks of filthy fantasies flash through her mind. All those nights she touched herself thinking about you. Even if she has to share you with Ningning… this might be a chance she’ll never get again.

She swallows hard.

“…I want to stay.”

Ningning lets out a muffled, shaky moan around the panties in her mouth, clearly aroused by Giselle’s decision.

You give Ningning a few more deep thrusts before finally pulling out of her dripping pussy. A thick string of her juices connects the head of your cock to her folds for a moment before it snaps. Giselle’s eyes widen as she stares at your cock. It’s hard. It’s throbbing. It’s absolutely drenched with Ningning’s arousal. She bites her lower lip, trying (and failing) to stifle a needy moan that escapes her anyway.

You pull Ningning up by her waist until she’s standing on shaky legs in front of you. Both girls now stand side by side, Ningning completely naked except for the “SLUT” choker and the degrading words written all over her body, Giselle is still dressed but clearly eager to look like Ningning soon.

You reach up and gently pull the soaked panties out of Ningning’s mouth. She gasps for air, drool running down her chin. Without needing to be told, Ningning drops to her knees in front of you, her face now level with your glistening cock. Giselle hesitates for only a second before she follows, kneeling beside her. Ningning, still visibly ashamed that Giselle saw her in such a degraded state earlier, shyly glances at Giselle. Then she gestures toward your cock with a small, embarrassed nod, inviting her to go first.

Giselle’s hand trembles slightly as she reaches out. She wraps her fingers around your thick, wet cock, eyes going wide as she feels its heat and weight. She strokes it slowly a couple of times, almost mesmerized as her fantasies seem to come true. When she pulls her hand back, several shiny strings of Ningning’s juices stretch between her fingers and your cock before snapping. Then, Giselle leans forward, parts her lips, and finally wraps her mouth around the tip. She lets out a muffled moan as she tastes Ningning’s arousal mixed with yours. Her tongue swirls slowly around the head.

Ningning shuffles closer on her knees, pressing her soft lips against the side of your shaft. She starts kissing and licking along your length while Giselle sucks on the tip. Their tongues occasionally brush against each other as they worship your cock together. You look down at the sight, both girls on their knees, one sucking the head while the other kisses and licks the side, their faces flushed with shame and excitement, both clearly nervous but eager.

They’re not perfectly synchronized like Wendy and Seulgi were. There’s a slight awkwardness at first. Giselle is more hesitant, still processing everything, while Ningning is trying to make up for being caught earlier by being extra enthusiastic.

But they quickly find a rhythm.

Giselle pulls off the head with a wet pop and moves to the side, licking along your shaft while Ningning takes the tip into her mouth. Then they switch again, Ningning licking the underside while Giselle sucks greedily on the head, her cheeks hollowing.

You can’t help but compare them.

Wendy and Seulgi had been scarily coordinated, almost like they’d done this before. Smooth transitions, perfect teamwork, knowing exactly when to switch and how to drive you crazy. Giselle and Ningning are messier, more frantic, driven by shame, jealousy, and raw lust. Their inexperience makes it even hotter in a different way.

Ningning looks up at you with watery eyes as she sucks you deeper, gagging softly. Giselle licks along the side, then leans in to kiss Ningning around your cock. Their tongues meet sloppily with your length trapped between them.

“Fuck…”

One hand of yours rests on Giselle’s head, the other on Ningning’s.

They keep switching, sometimes one taking you deep while the other licks your balls. Sometimes both lick up and down your shaft together. Sometimes they fight playfully over the head. Spit drips everywhere. It runs down their chins and onto their tits. Both of their faces are a mess. Flushed and wet.

Giselle pulls off for a second and looks up at you.

“Is this… okay?”

Ningning doesn’t wait for your answer. She leans in and takes you back into her mouth. She sucks greedily while Giselle watches for a moment before joining her again.

You lean your head back, groaning at the feeling of two mouths and tongues working you over. It’s not as polished as what Wendy and Seulgi did, but the raw hunger from both girls, especially knowing how much shame and excitement is driving them, makes it incredibly intense. Ningning moans around your cock, clearly getting off on being used like this in front of Giselle. Giselle is still a little hesitant, but the way she keeps licking and sucking shows she’s slowly giving in to her desires.

Ningning is especially eager now. She takes you deeper into her mouth, sucking with sloppy, hungry devotion. Her head bobs steadily while her tongue presses against the underside. The word BITCH is still written boldly across her forehead in black marker, and every time she looks up at you with watery eyes, the sight hits you like a drug.

She’s kneeling. Slobbering all over your cock. Marked up like a cheap whore. The proud, sharp-tongued Ningning, reduced to this. The contrast between her usual attitude and how she looks right now is dizzying… and it turns you on more than you expected.

Giselle, on the other hand, still looks more innocent. Her movements are a little more hesitant, almost shy, as she licks along the side of your shaft and occasionally kisses the base. Her cheeks are flushed, and there’s a nervous excitement in her eyes, like she can’t believe she’s actually doing this.

The contrast between the two of them is overwhelming. You groan deeply, the pleasure amplified by how different they feel. Ningning sucks you like she’s trying to prove something, taking you into her throat and gagging softly. Giselle licks and kisses every inch she can reach, her soft tongue tracing veins while she watches Ningning work.

Then they switch again. Ningning pulls off with a wet gasp, spit dripping from her chin. She moves to lick along the side while Giselle leans in and takes the head into her mouth. Giselle’s lips stretch around you as she sucks gently at first, then with growing confidence.

The visual is intoxicating. Ningning with BITCH written on her forehead, drooling and licking your shaft like a desperate slut. Giselle, still relatively clean-faced, sucking the tip with wide, slightly nervous eyes.

You can’t help but groan again. Your pleasure builds faster.

Ningning looks up at you. Her voice sounds hoarse as she licks along your length.

“Ningning… loves sucking oppa’s cock…”

Giselle pulls off just enough to breathe, her lips shiny, before she whispers almost shyly.

“…Me too…”

Then she dives back down, taking your cock deeper while Ningning kisses and licks wherever Giselle isn’t.

You lean your head back, breathing harder, completely lost in the feeling of both their mouths worshipping you at the same time.

Giselle keeps sucking on the head of your cock, her tongue swirling greedily, but her eyes keep drifting sideways to Ningning. She can’t stop staring at the words written all over her. BITCH on her forehead, SLUT on her shoulder blade, COCKSUCKER and WORTHLESS on her thighs. The black marker stands out harshly against Ningning’s skin. It turns her into a living, breathing canvas of degradation.

Giselle feels a sharp pang of envy. It’s not just how filthy and hot Ningning looks right now. Marked up, drooling, talking about herself in third person, sucking your cock like a desperate whore. It’s the attention. The clear proof that you’ve claimed her, used her, written on her like she belongs to you. Giselle wants that too. She wants your focus. Your control. Your marks on her body.

She starts sucking your cock messier on purpose. She lets her spit drip freely from her lips, letting thick strings of saliva run down her chin and onto the front of her white top. The fabric quickly becomes kinda see-through. It starts clinging to her tits and makes her hard nipples clearly visible.

You notice. Your gaze drops to her chest, watching the way her wet shirt turns almost transparent, outlining her breasts perfectly.

Giselle catches you staring. A small, shy but excited smile appears on her lips as she pulls off your cock for a moment.

“Do I deserve another writing too?”

Her voice trembles with both nervousness and arousal.

You’re about to answer, about to tell her yes, when Ningning suddenly speaks up, still on her knees beside her, lips shiny with spit.

“You have to earn it first.”

Ningning’s voice carries a hint of bratty competitiveness.

Giselle glances at her, surprised, but the challenge in Ningning’s eyes seems to spark something in her. Instead of arguing, she leans forward again and takes your dick back into her mouth. She starts sucking with renewed determination, clearly trying to prove herself. Ningning watches her for a second, then joins in again, both girls now working your cock with messy, competitive enthusiasm. Their tongues slide against each other. Their lips meet around your shaft. Their spit drips everywhere.

Giselle is clearly determined to earn her own marks now. Their competitive energy is turning the blowjob into something almost frantic. Ningning shifts lower, moving from the side of your shaft to your balls. She sucks one into her mouth gently, then the other, swirling her tongue around them while her hand strokes the base of your cock. Her warm, wet mouth on your balls feels incredible, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. At the same time, Giselle wraps her hand firmly around the base of your cock, holding it steady. She looks up at you with those big, innocent-looking eyes. Eyes that are anything but innocent right now. Then she starts slapping your heavy, wet cock against her face.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

She hits her cheeks, her lips, even her tongue with it, making wet, lewd sounds. Her cheeks are flushed, spit already dripping down her chin as she tries her hardest to turn you on.

“You like this, oppa?”

She whispers breathily between slaps.

“You like when I slap your cock on my face like a dirty girl?”

She opens her mouth wide and slaps your cock against her tongue a few more times before she leans forward and takes you in again.

This time, she tries something new. Giselle pushes herself further, taking more and more of your cock into her mouth until her cheeks bulge out like a chipmunk. She holds you there for a moment, eyes watering, clearly struggling but determined. Then she pushes even deeper. Your cock slips into her throat. Giselle gags hard, but she doesn’t pull back. She keeps you buried in her tight throat, her nose pressing closer and closer to your stomach as she fights through it.

You groan deeply. Your hand tightens in her hair as pleasure surges through you. Your orgasm is building fast now.

Ningning notices immediately. She lets out an annoyed little scoff around your balls, clearly irritated that Giselle is taking the lead. She doubles her efforts, sucking harder on your balls while stroking the part of your shaft that Giselle can’t reach.

But Giselle doesn’t care. She keeps you deep in her throat, bobbing slightly, determined to be the one who makes you cum. Her eyes are locked on yours, big and full of lust, as if silently telling you she wants your load.

The competition between them - Ningning sucking your balls while Giselle deepthroats you - feels incredible. Their mouths, tongues, and hands work together in messy harmony, both of them desperate to push you over the edge.

You can feel yourself getting dangerously close as Giselle refuses to pull off. She keeps your cock buried deep in her throat, her nose pressed flush against your stomach, cheeks bulging as she holds you there. Her eyes stay locked on yours the entire time. The eye contact is dizzying. Every time her throat tightens and beats around you, it sends a fresh wave of pleasure through your body.

Ningning, not wanting to be outdone, moves. She pulls away from your balls and starts kissing and licking along your thigh, then moves up to your abs. Her soft lips and warm tongue trace every line of muscle, trying desperately to draw your attention back to her. She’s jealous - you can feel it in the way she sucks and bites at your skin - but she’s also turned on by watching Giselle deepthroat you so eagerly.

You groan as your head starts spinning from the overwhelming sensation. Giselle’s throat is incredibly tight and hot, massaging your cock as she struggles to breathe through her nose. Her nostrils flare with every labored breath. You uncap the marker with your teeth. You firmly hold the back of Giselle’s head, keeping her exactly where she is, cock buried down her throat. Giselle’s eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t fight it. She just moans around you, the vibration traveling straight through your length.

You lean down and press the marker to her right cheek.

COCK

Then you move to her left cheek.

SUCKER

The words come out bold and clear against her skin. Giselle’s eyes flutter as she feels the marker moving across her face. The humiliation seems to push her even further. She shakes her head from side to side, the motion making your cock grind against the walls of her throat.

The sudden movement nearly makes you cum right there. You groan, gripping her head tighter. With a heavy breath, you push her forehead back, finally forcing her off your cock.

Giselle comes up gasping, thick strings of spit connecting her lips to your throbbing length. Her face is a mess: mascara is running, cheeks are bright red, and now the words COCK SUCKER are written across them in bold black marker.

Ningning licks her lips, Giselle wipes some spit from her chin, the fresh writing on her face making her look even more filthy and used. They stay on their knees in front of you, faces flushed and messy from sucking your cock. Without a word, they both reach out at the same time. Giselle’s hand wraps around the upper part of your shaft, her fingers still slick with her own spit. Ningning takes the lower part, her grip a little firmer. They start stroking you together. Slow at first, then finding a rhythm. Their hands slide up and down your throbbing length in coordinated strokes.

The sight alone is overwhelming. Both of them look up at you with lust-filled eyes as they jerk you off. Their hands twist and stroke perfectly, sometimes squeezing at the head, sometimes sliding all the way down to your base. Spit and pre-cum make everything slippery and messy, dripping down their fingers.

You groan again, hips twitching. Giselle’s eyes widen with excitement. Ningning bites her lip, stroking faster. Both girls lean in closer, tilting their heads back slightly. They open their mouths wide, tongues sticking out obediently, presenting themselves like good little sluts waiting for their reward.

You can’t hold back any longer. With a deep groan, you finally cum.

The first thick, heavy rope of cum shoots out hard, landing directly across Giselle’s face, splashing from her forehead down across the bridge of her nose and onto her tongue. The second powerful spurt hits Ningning, painting a thick white line from her left cheek all the way to the right side of her hairline, covering the word BITCH on her forehead. More ropes follow in quick succession. You paint both of their faces thoroughly. Thick strands land on Giselle’s cheeks, painting the COCKSUCKER letters you wrote a moment ago. A heavy load lands on her tongue, and she moans softly. But she keeps her mouth open so you can see it pool there. Ningning gets just as much. One long rope lands across her eyes, forcing her to close them as cum drips from her lashes. Another lands on her lips and chin, slowly running down onto her marked-up tits. You keep pulsing, covering both their faces and upper chests (including Giselle’s shirt) until their skin is glistening with your cum.

When you finally finish, both girls stay exactly where they are, mouths open, tongues out, faces absolutely covered in your thick load. Giselle’s eyes flutter open, cum dripping from her lashes as she looks up at you with a dazed, satisfied expression. Ningning licks her lips slowly, tasting you, the word BITCH still visible through the mess on her forehead.

Both of them look completely used… and incredibly beautiful.

Ningning is sprawled out on her back across the couch. Her legs are spread wide, one foot hooked over the backrest. Her head is thrown back against the cushions, mouth open in a constant stream of broken, high-pitched moans as Giselle kneels between her thighs, eating her out. Giselle’s tongue moves relentlessly: long, wet licks through Ningning’s soaked folds, firm circles around her swollen clit, a kiss on her thigh here and there and occasional deep thrusts into her pussy. Two of her fingers are buried inside Ningning, curling and pumping steadily as she sucks on her clit.

Behind Giselle, you’re kneeling, gripping her perfect ass with both hands. You spread her cheeks wide, holding her open as you thrust into her tight, dripping pussy from behind. Each deep stroke makes her body jolt forward, her face pressing harder into Ningning’s cunt.

Both of their faces are still covered in your cum. Thick, drying ropes of it streak Giselle’s cheeks, chin, and even a few drops cling to her eyelashes. Ningning’s face is similarly painted, white streaks across her forehead, over the word BITCH, and dripping down her lips and chin onto her tits.

You squeeze Giselle’s ass harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh as you fuck her with slow but powerful thrusts, bottoming out with every stroke. Giselle moans loudly into Ningning’s pussy. The vibrations make Ningning cry out and buck her hips up desperately.

“Fuck Aeri-unnie-right there-don’t stop sucking my clit-!”

Ningning whimpers. Her hands are tangled tightly in Giselle’s hair, pulling her face harder against her soaking cunt.

Giselle doesn’t answer with words. She just buries herself deeper, sucking harder on Ningning’s clit while her fingers curl inside her, all while pushing her ass back against you, clearly loving being fucked from behind. You keep the deep, steady rhythm going, watching the way Giselle’s body rocks between you and Ningning. Her pussy clenches beautifully around your cock, soaked and eager.

Ningning’s moans grow louder and more desperate, her thighs starting to shake around Giselle’s head.

“I’m-I’m so close-please-make me cum-!”

Giselle doubles down, sucking and fingering her faster, while you continue pounding into Giselle’s tight heat from behind, your hands never leaving her ass.

The living room is filled with the wet, filthy sounds of sex. Your cock slides in and out of Giselle. Giselle’s mouth devours Ningning. Both girls’ needy and shameless moans blend together.

Nut now, Ningning’s moans grow louder and more frantic as Giselle works between her legs. Giselle’s tongue flicks rapidly over her swollen clit while two fingers pump steadily in and out of her soaked pussy. Ningning’s hips buck wildly. Her hands grip Giselle’s hair even tighter as she nears the edge.

“I’m-I’m gonna-fuck-unnie-!”

Ningning’s voice cracks. Her entire body suddenly tenses. Her back arches off the couch as her orgasm crashes through her. A loud, broken scream tears from her throat as she squirts hard, gushing onto Giselle’s tongue and chin. Her thighs clamp around Giselle’s head. They tremble violently as wave after wave of pleasure rips through her. Giselle keeps licking and fingering her through it, drawing out every last spasm until Ningning collapses back onto the couch, gasping and whimpering.

At the same time, you don’t stop fucking Giselle from behind. Her tight pussy feels incredible. It’s hot, wet, smooth and gripping you perfectly. The sight of her ass rippling each time your hips slap against it, combined with the way she’s still eagerly eating Ningning’s pussy, is driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You pull out of Giselle with a wet sound and quickly flip her around. She ends up almost sitting on the edge of the couch, legs spread wide, facing you. You grab her hips and slam back into her pussy in one hard thrust. Giselle’s head falls back with a loud cry as you start ruining her. You fuck her with hard, frantic thrusts that make her whole body jolt. Her tits bounce in front of you as you pound into her, the wet sounds of your cock slamming into her soaked cunt filling the room. Giselle’s eyes roll back, mouth open in a constant stream of broken moans.

“Fuck! Oppa…too hard-! You’re-ahh-breaking me!”

You lose yourself completely, gripping her hips tight as you rail her without mercy. The sight of her face - still covered in your dried cum, eyes crossed in pleasure - pushes you right to the brink.

With a deep groan, you bury yourself as deep as possible and cum hard. Thick, heavy ropes of cum flood deep inside Giselle’s pussy, painting her walls white. You keep thrusting through your orgasm, grinding deep as you empty every drop into her. Giselle moans loudly. Her pussy clenches and milks you through your climax. Her own body shakes from the intensity.

You stay buried inside her for a long moment, breathing hard, as the last spurts of your load fill her completely. Giselle looks up at you with glassy, fucked-out eyes, chest heaving, a small, satisfied smile on her cum-streaked lips.

Ningning watches the two of you from the side. She lies on her back for only a few seconds after her orgasm, before jealousy takes over. She had to watch it all. The way you buried yourself deep inside Giselle and unloaded everything into her, just now. The first load she had to share. This second one, Giselle took all for herself. The unfairness burns hot in her chest. Shakily, Ningning pushes herself up. Her legs are weak, but she crawls forward on all fours toward the two of you, eyes locked on where your cock is still buried inside Giselle’s pussy. Before either you or Giselle can react or recover, Ningning forces herself between you. She reaches down, grabs the base of your cock, and pulls you out of Giselle with a wet squelching sound. A thick glob of your cum immediately leaks from Giselle’s used hole.

Ningning leans in and quickly wraps her lips around the head of your cock, sucking and licking off the mix of your cum and Giselle’s juices with greedy, desperate strokes. She cleans you thoroughly for a few seconds, while moaning around your length. Then she pushes Giselle’s thighs wider apart and buries her face between them. Her tongue immediately plunges into Giselle’s freshly fucked pussy. She licks and sucks out every drop of your cum like she’s starving for it.

Giselle’s eyes fly open in shock.

“W-wait-Ning-ahh!”

She tries to complain, but the words dissolve into a loud, broken moan as Ningning eats her out with ferocious hunger.

The younger girl is relentless. She laps and sucks noisily. Her tongue scoops your thick cum out of Giselle’s pussy and swallows it down greedily. Her hands grip Giselle’s thighs tightly, holding her open as she devours the creampie you just left inside her. Giselle’s head falls back. Her hands fly to Ningning’s hair as she writhes under the intense stimulation.

“Fuck-Ning-slow down-it’s too much-ahh!”

But Ningning doesn’t slow down. If anything, she becomes more aggressive, sucking harder, pushing her tongue deeper, desperate to taste every last drop of you from Giselle’s pussy. Wet, sticky slurping sounds fill the room as she eats her out like a woman possessed.

You watch the scene, your cock still hard and twitching, despite just cuming inside Giselle, as Ningning shamelessly devours your cum from Giselle’s freshly fucked cunt. Giselle’s moans grow louder and more desperate, her hips twitching uncontrollably against Ningning’s hungry mouth.

You sigh as you take a breather. November is almost over. You’re tired. Physically and mentally. You’ve been running on the edge for weeks. A part of you just wants to close your eyes and rest.

But then you hear the soft click of the guest room door opening.

[authorhjk1]

Surviving NNN

Finale: Part 2

(Karina X Winter X Giselle X Ningning X Irene X Seulgi X Wendy X Joy X Yeri X Male Reader) Wordcount: 29638 words

You turn your head.

Karina and Winter step out together.

Your girlfriend’s lips curve into a wicked, triumphant smile the second your eyes meet. Winter, on the other hand, looks ashamed, cheeks burning red, unable to meet your gaze for more than a second.

Your eyes narrow.

“Karina.”

Your voice comes out low and rough. She tilts her head, still smiling.

“Hey baby.”

She replies sweetly, like she didn’t just walk in on you creampying one of her best friends while the other is now eating your cum out of her.

You look at Winter. She shrinks slightly under your stare, biting her lip. The guilt on her face is obvious.

Did you get played by both of them?

The thought hits you hard. All this time, the teasing, the begging, the way Winter had been pushing so hard… Was Karina still pulling strings even after you faked your orgasm?

Ningning and Giselle finally notice the new arrivals. Ningning pulls her face away from Giselle’s pussy, lips shiny with a mix of your cum and Giselle’s juices. Her eyes go wide when she sees Karina and Winter standing there. Giselle sits up, still breathing hard, her face also covered in your dried load. She looks between Karina and Winter, shock written all over her expression.

But Karina’s smile doesn’t fade. She takes a slow step forward, eyes sweeping over the obscene scene - Ningning and Giselle on their knees, both marked and covered in your cum, your cock still hard and glistening from their juices and spit.

“Well…”

Karina says, voice dripping with amusement:

“Looks like someone lost a bet.”

You narrow your eyes.

“I only-“

Karina cuts you off before you can reveal that you caught her touching herself and losing first.

“Baby… I can’t even count how many times you came this month. With Irene unnie, with Seulgi unnie, with Joy unnie, with Yeri unnie… Should I keep going?”

You open your mouth to argue, but she raises a hand.

“And don’t even try the ‘I faked it’ excuse. Minjeong was only pretending to help you fake your orgasm… but she was on my side the whole time.”

Winter shrinks slightly beside her, cheeks burning red, unable to meet your eyes.

You feel a cold wave wash over you.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

Karina pulls out her phone, taps a few times, and turns the screen toward you. It’s a video. The same night you thought you caught her touching herself. But this time the angle is different, clearly from a different camera. In the video, Karina is lying in bed, moaning softly… but her hand isn’t between her legs. She’s just pretending, rubbing her thigh, putting on a show. She even glances toward the door with a tiny, knowing smirk before continuing her fake moans.

Your stomach drops.

Karina locks the phone and puts it away, smiling brightly.

“You really thought I’d lose that easily?”

You stand there, stunned, slowly piecing everything together. Karina had looked way too confident the entire month. Winter had been pushing untypically hard to get you to fuck her. The way Winter and Karina almost looked like they knew things they shouldn’t have…

You rub your face with your hand, annoyed at yourself.

“I should’ve known. You were too smug. Winter was too eager…”

Karina walks closer, still smiling, and gently pats your chest.

“It’s okay, baby. You tried really hard this year.”

She leans in, voice dropping to a whisper.

“But you lost.”

Behind her, Winter shifts awkwardly, still looking guilty but also a little relieved it’s finally out in the open. Giselle and Ningning are both staring at the scene, wide-eyed, clearly processing everything that is going on. You don’t think either of them is involved and you can’t tell if they even knew what was going on between you and Karina until now.

The bet is over. And you lost. You stand there, still breathing hard, cock slowly softening as the reality of the situation sinks in.

Fuck.

You lost.

The disappointment hits you like a cold wave. All that effort… and Karina had been playing you the entire time. You rub a hand over your face again, annoyed at yourself for not seeing the signs sooner.

Karina watches you with that bright, victorious smile. She gently starts running a finger down your chest.

“You know what the punishment is, right? No cuming for the entire next month.”

You let out a long, defeated sigh.

“…Yeah. I know.”

Karina’s smile widens, clearly enjoying your reluctant acceptance.

“But until December starts…”

She continues, voice dropping into a teasing purr.

“You can do whatever you want. And right now, you have all four of us right here in this apartment.”

Before you can even respond, Karina turns her head slightly.

“Winter gets the first round, though. She helped me win, after all. It’s only fair.”

You look at Winter, who’s standing there looking equal parts guilty and nervous. You scoff.

“Why the hell would I fuck her right now?”

You mutter in defiance.

“After she betrayed me like that?”

Karina rolls her eyes, clearly not buying your resistance for a second. She reaches over and gently tugs the zipper of Winter’s oversized sweater down. The fabric parts and slides off Winter’s shoulders, pooling at her feet. She’s wearing almost nothing underneath. Just a tiny black bralette and a matching thong. Her toned body is on full display, smooth skin glowing under the living room lights.

You can’t help but stare. Karina notices. She gives Winter a small, playful shove toward you.

“Go on, Minjeong-ah. Have fun.”

Winter stumbles forward a step, cheeks burning red. She’s clearly embarrassed, arms half-crossing over her chest instinctively, but she doesn’t try to cover herself completely. Her eyes flick up to meet yours. They look shy, nervous… but also full of quiet want.

Your sex drive, which had barely calmed down, surges back to life. You know you should be angry. You know she played you. But looking at her body, that tight waist, those small tits, the way she’s standing there in almost nothing, waiting for you…

You grab Winter by the waist with both hands and lift her effortlessly, turning her and setting her down on the wide backrest of the couch. Her legs dangle on either side of you. Before she can even steady herself, you step between her thighs and pull her into a rough, demanding kiss. Winter gasps into your mouth, surprised by the sudden intensity. Your tongue pushes past her lips, claiming her as your hands roam greedily over her body, sliding up her sides, squeezing her tits through the thin bralette, then moving down to grip her ass hard, pulling her closer. She moans helplessly against your lips, unable to do anything but take it. Her hands clutch at your shoulders, fingers digging in as you devour her mouth, kissing her like you’ve been holding back for weeks.

While you’re lost in Winter’s lips, you feel movement behind her. Giselle and Ningning have climbed onto the couch cushions, kneeling on either side of Winter’s dangling legs. Their heads are now perfectly level with your cock. Without needing instruction, they lean in together. Ningning takes the left side, pressing soft kisses along your shaft before licking a slow stripe up the length. Giselle takes the right, wrapping her lips around the head and sucking gently as she swirls her tongue around the tip. You groan into Winter’s mouth as the dual sensation hits you. You keep kissing her roughly, one hand tangled in her hair, the other squeezing her ass, while Giselle and Ningning work your cock with messy, eager mouths. Winter whimpers against your lips, clearly feeling the way your body reacts to the two girls sucking you off behind her. Her thighs tremble on either side of your hips as she melts under your kiss.

Giselle and Ningning alternate smoothly once more, one sucking the head while the other licks and kisses the shaft and balls, then switching with wet, sloppy sounds. Spit drips down your length as they worship you. Their tongues occasionally brush against each other around your cock.

You pull back from Winter’s mouth just enough to breathe, lips brushing hers.

“Fuck… you taste so good.”

Winter’s eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed. She tries to reply, but you kiss her again, harder this time, swallowing her moan as Giselle takes you deeper into her throat while Ningning sucks on your balls.

You reach down with one hand, fingers hooking into the thin strap of Winter’s tiny black thong. Without warning, you rip it hard. The delicate fabric tears with a sharp snap, exposing her small, cleanly shaven pussy. Winter gasps in disbelief, her eyes widening as she feels the cool air hit her soaked, sensitive cunt.

“W-wait-oppa-!”

She stammers, voice trembling with shock… but there’s no real protest. If anything, the sudden roughness makes her even wetter. Her thighs shake visibly, a fresh trickle of arousal running down her skin.

You push Ningning and Giselle off your cock with firm but gentle hands. Both girls pull back, lips shiny and swollen as they watch what you’re about to do.

You grip your thick, glistening cock and slap it heavily against Winter’s tiny, sensitive pussy.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

The wet sound echoes as you smack your cock against her swollen folds and clit. Winter jolts and shakes with every impact, letting out sharp, needy gasps.

“Ah-! Fuck-it’s so heavy-”

Her hips twitch uncontrollably.

You align yourself with her dripping entrance and push forward in one powerful stroke. You bottom out inside her with a single deep thrust. Winter’s eyes fly open wide, a loud, broken cry tearing from her throat as her tight pussy is suddenly stretched and filled completely.

“OH MY GOD-! Too big-! You’re-ahh-splitting me in half!”

You start ruining her small body immediately with hard, deep, relentless thrusts that make her entire frame jolt forward on the backrest of the couch. Your hips slam against her own with every stroke. Your cock pounds into her tight, soaking pussy without pause.

Winter’s moans turn into desperate, broken screams.

“Fuck-! Oppa-! Slow down-I can’t-ahh-you’re too deep!”

But her body betrays her words. Her legs wrap around your waist instinctively, pulling you even deeper as her pussy clenches and spasms around your cock. Her small frame shakes violently with every brutal thrust, her small tits bouncing slightly in the thin bralette. You grip her hips hard, using them as leverage to fuck her even harder, completely lost in the tight heat of her pussy. The wet, slick sounds of your cock destroying her fill the room as Ningning and Giselle watch from the side. Winter’s head falls back, eyes rolling as she tries taking everything, completely overwhelmed and ruined on your cock.

“AH-! Fuck-! Oppa…too rough-! I can’t-ahh!”

She cries out. Her voice cracks into high-pitched, desperate screams. Her small body jolts like a doll on the backrest of the couch. Her legs shake without control around your waist. You pound into her relentlessly, bottoming out with every stroke. The head of your cock kisses her cervix over and over again.

Ningning and Giselle don’t stay idle. They move in closer, their hands reaching for Winter’s thin black bralette. Together, they pull it up and off her body, freeing her small, beautiful tits.

The moment they’re exposed, both girls lean in. Ningning takes Winter’s right nipple into her mouth, sucking hard and flicking her tongue over the sensitive peak. Giselle does the same to the left, sucking and gently biting while her hand squeezes the soft flesh. Winter’s eyes roll back. Her mouth falls open in a silent scream as the overwhelming pleasure hits her from all sides.

“Fuuuuck! My tits-! You’re-ahh-sucking my tits while he fucks me!”

She completely loses control. Her small frame shakes violently between the three of you. Her pussy clenches and flutters madly around your cock as Ningning and Giselle devour her tits, sucking, licking, and biting her sensitive nipples while you destroy her pussy with deep, punishing thrusts.

Winter’s moans turn into broken, incoherent cries.

“I can’t-too much-gonna-ahh-I’m cuming!”

Her orgasm hits her like a tsunami. Her back arches. Her entire body convulses as she squirts hard around your cock. She soaks your thighs and the couch beneath her. Her tits bounce in Ningning and Giselle’s mouths as she shakes and trembles through the intense climax.

But you don’t stop fucking her. You keep pounding into her tight, spasming pussy, drawing out her orgasm as long as possible while the two girls continue sucking on her tits, making her cum even harder.

Winter is a complete, sobbing mess, eyes rolled back, tongue hanging out slightly, body jerking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through her. You keep thrusting through it all, savoring the way her pussy milks your cock, determined to ruin her completely. Your hips snap forward harder and faster, driving your thick cock into her tight, oversensitive cunt with deep, heavy strokes. The sound of your hips slamming against her own grows louder as you rail her without a break.

Winter is completely spent after her orgasm, but you don’t let her rest. She mewls and whimpers helplessly. Her voice cracks. The overstimulation crashes through her.

“Ah! Too much! Oppa-I just came-ahh-please!”

Her eyes go cross-eyed. Her mouth hangs open as she loses the ability to form real words.

A few moments later, her upper body loses all strength. Winter collapses backward with a weak cry. Her back arches over the backrest of the couch. Her head falls back, almost touching the seat cushions behind her. She’s now bent at an extreme angle. Only your firm grip on her waist keeps her connected to you as you keep destroying her pussy. The new position makes her tight midriff stretch and flex beautifully. You can see it. the subtle but unmistakable bulge of your cock pressing against her lower stomach every time you bottom out inside her.

Ningning’s eyes widen when she sees it.

“Fuck…”

She whispers, biting her lip. She leans in closer, mesmerized, and starts kissing and licking the bulge on Winter’s stomach again and again, right where your cock is visibly moving inside her.

You’re barely able to think straight. The betrayal from Winter still burns in the back of your mind, mixing with the incredible tightness of her pussy. You’re running on pure instinct now.

You manage to growl out between heavy breaths.

“Giselle… write something on her.”

You’re too lost in your pleasure to specify what, but Giselle seems to understand exactly what you want.

She uncaps the marker with a soft click. While you try to slow your thrusts just enough to give her space, Giselle leans over Winter’s arched, trembling body and starts writing.

TRAITOR

The word stretches across Winter’s upper body. The T sits right over her small tits. The rest of the letters trail down her toned stomach. The final R ending just above her pussy. Right where your cock keeps bulging visibly.

Winter can only moan brokenly, too overwhelmed to even protest. Her cross-eyed expression and the way her body keeps jolting show she’s completely lost to the sensation.

Giselle steps back, admiring her handiwork with a mix of satisfaction and arousal. The word TRAITOR now marks Winter’s body.

You don’t stop fucking her hard, hands digging into her waist as you watch the obscene sight: Winter bent backward, marked like a cheap whore, getting her pussy ruined while Ningning kisses the bulge on her stomach and Giselle watches with hungry eyes. Your cock keeps slamming into her tight, soaked pussy again and again. Her petite person bounces on the backrest of the couch with every powerful stroke, her perky tits bouncing with the rhythm.

Even though her brain is completely fucked out - eyes crossed, mouth open in constant moans - Winter instinctively tries to hide the humiliating words written across her body. Her hands fly up shakily, attempting to cover the TRAITOR stretching over her tits and stomach.

“I’m-ahh-sorry-! I just… wanted your cock so bad-please-I’m sorry-”

You don’t slow down. You keep ruining her pussy, hips snapping forward.

“You’ve got it now, don’t you?”

Before she can respond, Giselle reaches forward and grabs both of Winter’s wrists. She yanks her hands away, pinning them above Winter’s head and fully exposing the degrading writing across her body. Winter whimpers in embarrassment, trying to complain, but Giselle doesn’t let her. She leans down and captures Winter’s mouth in a deep, hungry kiss, swallowing her protests. Winter melts almost instantly, moaning into Giselle’s mouth as their tongues slide together.

You glance to the side. Karina is sitting on the couch across from you, legs spread, one hand between her thighs as she touches herself while watching you destroy her friend. Her eyes are dark with lust, clearly enjoying the show.

You don’t even have to think.

“Ningning. Go eat out Karina.”

There’s barely a flicker of resistance in Ningning’s eyes. Just a brief moment of hesitation before raw hunger takes over. She crawls over to Karina on all fours and kneels between her legs.

You keep fucking Winter hard, watching as Ningning pulls Karina’s panties aside and buries her face between her thighs. Karina lets out a soft, satisfied moan, one hand tangling in Ningning’s hair as she starts eating her out.

The living room is now filled with the sounds of pure depravity:

Your cock pounds Winter’s pussy. Her muffled moans vibrate against Giselle’s lips as they make out. Ningning’s wet, hungry slurping sounds as she devours Karina’s pussy. Karina’s soft moans of pleasure.

Karina is kneeling between your thighs, her soft, perfect tits wrapped tightly around your cock. She’s giving you a slow, sensual titjob, sliding her breasts up and down your length while looking up at you with that teasing smile.

“Mmm… does that feel good, baby?”

She purrs, squeezing her tits tighter around you.

“You’ve been such a naughty boy this month… but I still love how hard you get for me.”

She leans down and licks the tip of your cock every time it emerges from between her cleavage. Her tongue swirls around the head before she continues sliding her warm, soft tits along your shaft.

To your right, Winter has taken your hand. She’s straddling two of your fingers, riding them slowly but eagerly. Her tight, soaked pussy grips your digits as she rocks her hips, soft whimpers escaping her lips. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes half-lidded as she uses your fingers to fuck herself.

“Ah… oppa’s fingers feel so good…”

Her voice trembles with need. Her hips roll in messy circles, chasing the pleasure as she uses your hand like her personal toy.

Karina continues working your cock between her tits. She squeezes them tighter around your shaft, sliding them up and down in an experienced, intimate rhythm. When your cock emerges from her cleavage again, she leans down and spits on it. A thick, warm globe of saliva drips onto your length, making everything wetter and slicker.

“Mmm… your cock looks so good between them.”

She spits again, letting it run down your cock as she continues the titjob, her soft breasts massaging every inch of you.

You turn your head to the right, toward the other end of the couch.

Giselle and Ningning have moved there.

Ningning is half-sitting against the backrest, legs spread wide. Giselle is on top of her, straddling one of her thighs, their soaked pussies pressed directly against each other. They’re grinding slowly but passionately, hips rolling in sync as they make out deeply. Giselle’s hands are in Ningning’s hair, pulling her closer as their tongues slide together. Ningning’s hands grip Giselle’s ass, squeezing and guiding her movements as they rub against one another. The wet sounds of their pussies dragging together mix with soft, shaky moans.

The sight is incredibly hot. The two of them lost in each other, marked bodies glistening with sweat and remnants of your cum, grinding their clits together while they kiss like they’ve been holding back for weeks.

You groan deeply at the entire scene.

Karina keeps sliding her spit-slick tits up and down your cock, occasionally licking the tip when it emerges. Winter rides your fingers faster, whimpering softly. And on the other end of the couch, Giselle and Ningning continue grinding and making out, their moans growing louder.

You’re standing behind Ningning, gripping her hips as you pound her pussy from behind with deep thrusts. She’s bent over the back of the couch, one leg propped up on the backrest, giving you the perfect angle to drive into her. One of your hands is tangled in her long hair, pulling her head back so she’s forced to look forward. The other hand stays on her waist, holding her in place as your cock slams into her again and again.

Ningning’s moans are loud and broken. Her body jumps forward with every hard thrust.

“Fuck-oppa…too deep-ahh!”

Across the room, Winter is lying flat on her back on the kitchen table with her legs spread wide. Giselle is between her thighs, eagerly eating her out, her tongue flicking rapidly over Winter’s clit while two fingers pump in and out of her soaked pussy. Winter’s back is arched. Soft, desperate whimpers spill from her lips as she grips Giselle’s hair tightly.

And right in front of Ningning’s forced line of sight is Karina.

She sits on the other end of the couch, legs spread, watching everything with a smile. She has her thick dildo in her hand, which she got from the drawer of her nightstand earlier, and is now slowly sliding it in and out of her own pussy as she enjoys the show.

“Look at you.”

Karina taunts.

“Getting railed like a pathetic little slut by my boyfriend while I watch. You really are the biggest whore here, Ningning.”

Ningning whimpers, her pussy clenching around your cock at Karina’s degrading words. You keep pounding into her, pulling her hair tighter to keep her head up.

Karina laughs, thrusting the dildo faster into herself.

“Does it feel good? Getting fucked in our living room? I bet your pussy is creaming all over his cock right now, isn’t it?”

Ningning can only moan in response, her body shaking as you continue to destroy her from behind. Her eyes are tearing up, her cheeks are burning, completely overwhelmed by the combination of your cock and Karina’s taunting.

You savor the tight heat of Ningning’s pussy hips slamming forward hard and fast, driving your thick cock deep into her soaked pussy again and again. The filthy sound of your hips slapping against her ass echoes through the room as you grip her waist with both hands, pulling her back onto your cock.

Behind you, on the kitchen table, Giselle has Winter completely at her mercy. Winter’s loud, high-pitched cries suddenly peak as Giselle sucks hard on her clit and curls her fingers inside her. Winter cums hard again, her back arching off the table, thighs shaking around Giselle’s head as she gushes onto her tongue.

“Fuck…I’m cuming!”

Winter sobs. Her voice cracks beautifully.

You don’t even turn around to look. You’re too focused on the tight, fluttering heat of Ningning’s pussy wrapped around your cock.

Karina stands up after pulling the dildo completely out of her pussy and walks over. Without warning, she slaps Ningning’s flushed cheek. It’s sharp enough to make her gasp.

“Open your mouth.”

Ningning obeys instantly, parting her lips with a shaky whimper. Karina pushes the dildo straight into Ningning’s mouth.

“Suck it. Taste me while he fucks you.”

Ningning gags and chokes around the dildo, eyes watering as Karina slowly fucks her mouth with it, coating her tongue and throat with her juices. The lewd sounds of Ningning gagging mix with the wet slapping of your cock pounding her pussy. You keep thrusting hard, feeling Ningning’s walls clench involuntarily around you from the overwhelming stimulation.

Then you feel a warm body press against your back. Giselle has moved behind you. Her soft tits press against your back as she leans in. Her lips brush your ear.

“Oppa…can I have your cock again too…?”

You’re lying on your back on the couch, breathing heavily as Giselle rides your cock in reverse cowgirl. She’s facing away from you. Her perfect ass bounces up and down on your lap as she takes your cock deep inside her tight pussy. The rhythmic sound of her ass slapping against your thighs fills the room. Your hands are full, gripping and squeezing her plump, soft ass cheeks hard, spreading them apart so you can watch your cock disappear into her again and again. Her butt jiggles in your palms with every downward thrust.

Giselle moans shamelessly. Her hands are braced on your thighs for leverage as she rides you faster.

“Fuck… your cock feels so good inside me…”

She rolls her hips in deep circles before lifting and slamming back down.

To your right, on the floor beside the couch, Ningning is kneeling. She’s riding the thick dildo Karina had been using earlier, bouncing on it in almost perfect sync with Giselle. Her marked body glistens with sweat. The degrading words are blatantly visible on her skin as she fucks herself on the toy.

Faintly, from the other side of the room, you hear Winter’s desperate voice.

“Unnie-please-slower-I can’t-ahh-it’s too much!”

Karina just laughs, rubbing Winter’s clit, overstimulating the younger girl even further.

You tune it all out and focus on the view in front of you. Giselle’s ass looks incredible as she bounces on your cock. Round. Firm. Tight. Perfect. Every time she lifts up, you see her pussy stretch around your thickness before she drops back down, swallowing you completely. You squeeze her cheeks harder, spreading them wider.

Giselle moans louder, clearly enjoying how you’re manhandling her ass.

“You like my ass, oppa?”

She glances back over her shoulder with a flushed, lust-filled smile.

“You like watching it bounce on your cock?”

You groan, thrusting up to meet her bounces, making her cry out.

Ningning keeps riding the dildo beside you. Her eyes are fixed on the way Giselle rides you, clearly jealous but too turned on to stop or to intervene. Winter’s broken, overstimulated moans continue in the background as Karina edges her mercilessly.

You keep your hands full on Giselle’s ass, squeezing and spreading her as she bounces harder, completely lost in the feeling of her tight, wet pussy and the hypnotic view of her perfect ass rippling in your grip.

You have Winter pinned down on the kitchen table, completely obliterating her tight little pussy. She’s lying flat on her back, legs spread and trembling in the air as you grip her small waist with both hands and slam into her without a break. Your cock drives deep and hard with every thrust.

Winter’s eyes are rolled back. Her mouth hangs open in constant, broken sobs and moans. The bold black letters TRAITOR written across her tits and stomach stretch and shift every time her body jolts or she tries to breathe.

Karina stands right beside the table. She watches with a cruel smirk as she slowly strokes Winter’s hair.

“Aww, look at you.”

Karina coos mockingly.

“Betraying my boyfriend just so you could get his cock. You were so eager to help me win… all because you’re such a desperate little slut for him.”

Winter gasps and sobs. Her small body shakes under your relentless pounding.

“I-I’m sorry-ahh! Please!”

Karina laughs.

“You even took his fake load all over your pretty face. Turns out you are just a stupid cum rag.”

Winter’s face burns with humiliation. Fresh tears leak from the corners of her eyes as she gets fucked senseless.

Karina picks up the marker. While you keep destroying Winter’s pussy, Karina leans over her chest and starts writing right above her tits.

CUM RAG

Winter whimpers pathetically as she feels the marker moving across her skin. The new degrading label is now permanently added to her marked body.

On the couch nearby, Ningning and Giselle are playfully fighting over the thick dildo.

“Give it back!”

Ningning whines, trying to snatch it from Giselle’s hand.

“No way, you already had your turn.”

Giselle giggles, holding it away while straddling Ningning’s lap. They wrestle over the toy, laughing and moaning as their naked bodies rub against each other, clearly enjoying the playful struggle.

You keep your grip tight on Winter’s waist and continue ruining her pussy. You watch her trembling body bounce on the table. Karina stands beside you, admiring her work with a proud smile as Winter falls apart completely beneath you. You grip Winter’s waist even tighter and start fucking her harder, slamming your cock into her soaked, overstimulated pussy with almost brutal force. The wet slapping sounds grow louder and filthier as you rail her without holding back. With a deep growl, you lift her hips completely off the kitchen table, holding her lower body up in the air. Only her head and shoulders remain on the table. Her back gets arched as you use her like a toy. The new angle lets you drive even deeper, your cock bullying her cervix.

Karina reaches over and starts playing with Winter’s tits, squeezing them, pinching and twisting her sensitive nipples while the TRAITOR and CUMRAG markings stretch and move across her skin.

You look down at Winter’s fucked-out face and mock her with a dark chuckle.

“Look at you… so fucking desperate for my cock that you betrayed me. You want me to use you like a cum rag, don’t you?”

Winter sobs and nods frantically, her voice broken and shaky.

“Yes…please…use me...I’m your cum rag-ahh!”

You keep pounding into her lifted body, watching her tits bounce in Karina’s hands.

“You want me to cum in your mouth? Beg for it.”

Winter’s eyes have completely lost focus.

“Please…cum in my mouth…use me like a cum rag…please, oppa…I’ll swallow everything-!”

Karina smirks and leans over Winter’s face.

“Be a good cum rag and open your mouth.”

Winter obeys instantly, opening wide and sticking her tongue out. Her eyes flutter with desperate anticipation as she waits for your load. Instead, Karina spits directly into her open mouth. A thick, warm globe lands on her tongue.

Winter mewls in humiliated surprise, eyes widening as she tastes Karina instead of you.

“Unnie!”

She complains, but she doesn’t close her mouth. She keeps it open, tongue still out, trembling as you continue destroying her pussy from the lifted position.

Karina laughs and spits into her mouth again.

“Swallow, cum rag.”

Winter whimpers pathetically but obeys. She swallows Karina’s spit while you keep fucking her hard, her small body shaking in your grip.

The living room has turned into a complete den of depravity, but right now the only thing that matters is Karina. You’re kneeling between her spread legs on the floor, slowly but deeply thrusting into her. Karina lies on her back, legs wrapped loosely around your waist. Her hands are gently holding your arms as you sink deep inside her with every intimate stroke.

The thrusts are slow and hard. The kind that make her feel every single inch as you bottom out, grinding against her cervix before pulling back and doing it again. The slick sounds of your cock sliding in and out of her soaked pussy are soft but constant.

Karina’s eyes are locked on yours. Her lips part as soft moans escape her. For a few minutes, the two of you are in your own little world, completely tuned out from the chaos around you.

“You feel so good…”

Her voice is full of affection. Her walls tremble and squeeze around you, pulling you in like she never wants you to leave.

You lean down and kiss her, tongues sliding together as you keep that steady, intimate rhythm. Her hands move up to cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks tenderly while you fuck her.

A few feet away on the kitchen table, Winter is still lying there, completely spent. She’s propped herself up on her elbows, breathing heavily as she watches you fuck Karina. Her body is covered in sweat and marker, TRAITOR and CUMRAG still clearly visible across her chest and stomach. She looks almost mesmerized by the sight of you being so gentle yet deep with Karina.

On the couch, Ningning and Giselle are locked in a heated 69. Giselle is on top. Her face is buried between Ningning’s thighs, licking and sucking on her clit while two fingers pump inside her. Ningning is underneath, eagerly eating Giselle out, her hands gripping Giselle’s ass as she moans into her pussy. Their bodies are pressed tightly together. Their hips roll and grind as they devour each other with messy, hungry sounds.

But none of that fully registers right now. You stay focused on Karina. You use slow, deep, intimate strokes that make her toes curl and her back arch off the floor. She pulls you down into another long kiss, moaning softly into your mouth every time you grind against that perfect spot inside her.

For this moment, it’s just the two of you.

You’re half-lying on the couch, leaning back against the cushions with Giselle completely trapped in a full Nelson position on top of you. Her back is pressed flush against your chest. Her legs are hooked over your arms. Your hands are locked behind her head, forcing her to look straight down at her own pussy. Your thick cock is buried deep inside her, stretching her wide open.

Hard, powerful upward thrusts slam into her soaked cunt, making her entire body shake like crazy on top of you. The wet, filthy sound of your cock pounding into her fills the room as you rail her without mercy.

“Fuck! Fuck! Oppa-I can see it-I can see your cock ruining me!”

Giselle screams. Her eyes are wide open as she’s forced to watch every single inch of your cock disappear into her pussy and come back out glistening with her juices.

You keep her head locked in place, making sure she doesn’t miss a single detail: the way her pussy lips stretch around your thickness, the way her clit throbs, the way her juices drip down your shaft.

“You’re gonna watch exactly how I break this pussy.”

You growl into her ear, fucking her even harder.

Giselle’s moans turn into desperate, broken sobs as she’s forced to witness her own destruction. Her tits bounce. Her body is completely helpless in your strong hold.

Winter sits on the edge of the couch nearby, watching with wide, lust-filled eyes as you absolutely obliterate Giselle. She bites her lip, thighs pressed together.

On the floor just a few feet away, Karina has Ningning on all fours. She’s kneeling behind her, roughly fucking Ningning with the thick dildo, one hand gripping her hair while the other pushes the dildo in and out of her pussy.

“Take it, you little whore.”

Karina bites, slamming the toy deep into Ningning again and again.

Ningning moans into the carpet, pushing her ass back to meet her thrust.

But your focus stays mostly on Giselle. The way her pussy creams all over your cock. The way her body shakes in the full Nelson. The broken, humiliated moans she lets out every time she watches herself get fucked senseless.

You keep her head locked down, forcing her to stare at the lewd sight of your cock ruining her tight hole. Giselle lets out a shrill cry, her pussy clenching around you as the humiliating position and brutal fucking push her closer and closer to the edge. You tighten your grip behind Giselle’s head, forcing her chin down even harder so she has no choice but to stare directly at her own stretched pussy getting destroyed.

You start pounding up into her with savage, unrelenting force. Every upward thrust makes her tight twat swallow your entire cock. Her slick juices spray out around your shaft and drip down your balls. The wet, filthy plap-plap-plap of your hips slamming into her ass echoes loudly through the room.

“Fuck-look at that greedy little cunt. Taking all of it like it was made for me.”

Giselle’s eyes are wide and out of focus, as she’s forced to watch her own pussy get ruined in real time. Her folds are swollen and puffy, stretched around your thick cock as you hammer into her from below.

“Oppa! It’s too deep-I can see it-I can see you breaking my pussy!”

She sobs, with her voice cracking.

You feel your orgasm building fast. A heavy, throbbing pressure grows in your balls as you destroy her. You fuck her as hard as you can, using the full Nelson to bounce her small body on your cock like a fleshlight. Her tight Japanese cunt clenches and spasms around you, milking your shaft as her juices run down your length. The visual of her frame trembling, her perky tits bouncing, and her own eyes locked on the sight of your cock wrecking her is pushing you dangerously close.

Giselle’s moans turn into broken, piercing squeals as you rail her thoroughly, her pussy creaming all over your cock.

Winter watches with parted lips, one hand between her own thighs. On the floor, Karina is still roughly fucking Ningning with the dildo, but even they keep glancing over at the obscene sight of you destroying Giselle in this position.

Your balls tighten. The orgasm builds hotter and heavier with every savage thrust into Giselle’s twitching twat.

You’re getting so fucking close. You feel your orgasm surging, unstoppable now.

With a deep groan, you lock your arms tighter behind Giselle’s head and slam upward with one final, devastating thrust, burying every inch of your cock as deep as possible inside her tight pussy.

Your cock pulses hard, flooding her with thick, heavy ropes of cum. You pump load after load straight into her womb, filling her completely while she’s forced to watch it all happen. Giselle’s eyes roll back, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as she feels you pumping her full.

The moment the others realize what’s happening, disappointed whines and groans fill the room.

“Again…?”

Winter pouts.

“Fuck, I wanted it this time.”

Ningning mutters, clearly jealous.

Karina just clicks her tongue, smirking but still a little annoyed.

“Greedy slut…”

You hold Giselle down on your cock until the last powerful spurt empties inside her. Then you slowly relax your arms. Your cock slips out of her ruined pussy with a wet pop. Almost immediately, a thick, creamy glob of your cum leaks from her stretched hole and starts dripping down her folds.

All three girls move like predators. They crawl over quickly, surrounding Giselle’s spread legs. Karina is the first to lean in, dragging her tongue slowly up Giselle’s pussy, scooping up a big strand of your cum. Winter presses in right beside her, licking and sucking greedily at the overflowing creampie. Ningning pushes her face in too, the three of them fighting over your load as it continues to leak out of Giselle.

The girl lying on top of you whimpers and trembles, still trapped in the position, watching helplessly as her groupmates devour the cum you just pumped deep inside her.

“Mmm… so much…”

Karina moans, licking deeper, pushing her tongue inside Giselle to get more.

Winter and Ningning lap and suck noisily, their tongues occasionally brushing against each other as they clean every drop they can reach. Giselle’s pussy twitches and leaks more of your cum with every lick, the girls moaning softly as they share and swallow it.

You lean back, watching the three of them eagerly eating your creampie straight from her freshly fucked cunt. Giselle can only moan weakly, completely overwhelmed by the sight and sensation.

You’re sitting comfortably on the couch with Karina straddling you. She’s riding your cock slowly and intimately, rolling her hips in deep, sensual circles that let you feel every inch of her tight, warm walls squeezing around you. There’s no rush. Just slow, calm movements as she takes you in and out of her dripping pussy. Your hands are cupping her full, soft tits, gently squeezing and massaging them as your thumbs brush over her hard nipples. Karina’s arms are wrapped around your neck, her forehead resting against yours as you kiss deeply, tongues sliding together in lazy, passionate strokes.

The two of you are completely lost in your own little world again.

“Mmm…”

Karina moans into your mouth between kisses, her breath warm against your lips.

“I love feeling you like this… so deep inside me.”

She grinds down, taking you to the hilt before rising again, her pussy clenching lovingly around your cock. You squeeze her tits a little harder, earning a sweet whimper from her as she kisses you deeper.

In the background, the other three girls are lost in their own pleasure.

Winter is lying on her back on the floor while Ningning sits on her face, grinding her pussy against Winter’s eager tongue. Giselle is between Winter’s spread legs, licking and fingering her at the same time. The three of them moan and whimper softly, bodies moving together in a lewd tangle, but their sounds feel far away compared to the intimate connection you share with Karina.

Your girlfriend pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. Her lips brush against yours as she continues that slow, loving ride.

“Even after everything tonight…this is my favorite part. Just you and me.”

She kisses you again, deeper this time, her tits pressing into your hands as she keeps riding you with that perfect, unhurried rhythm. Her pussy feels incredible, squeezing around you like she never wants to let go. You stay lost in her, hands exploring her body, mouths moving together while the other girls continue pleasuring each other a few feet away.

For now, the rest of the world doesn’t matter.

It’s just you and Karina.

Ningning is lying face-down on the couch, her sullied body stretched out, ass slightly raised as she grips the cushions tightly. You kneel behind her, slowly pushing the thick black marker against her tight little asshole. The rounded end presses in, stretching her slowly.

“Ahh-wait… please go slowly…”

Ningning moans, her voice shaky and high-pitched. Her hips twitch, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she pushes back just a little, breathing hard as the marker sinks deeper into her ass.

The other three girls watch from the side.

Karina and Giselle are kneeling right next to you, their soft hands wrapped around your hard cock, stroking you slowly in perfect sync while they watch the marker disappear into Ningning’s tight ass. Their fingers glide up and down your shaft, occasionally squeezing or twisting at the head.

Winter sits on the armrest, biting her lip as she stares, one hand between her own thighs.

“Fuck… look at her take it.”

Karina whispers, her hand pumping you a little faster.

“Such a greedy ass for a marker.”

Giselle leans in closer. Her breath is warm against your ear as she strokes your cock.

“She’s clenching so hard… you can see it.”

Ningning whimpers loudly as you push the marker another inch deeper, her ass stretching around the thick body of it. Her toes curl and her hands fist the couch cushions.

“Ahh! It’s so thick… feels so weird-but don’t stop…”

Her voice trembles with a mix of embarrassment and arousal.

You keep pushing slowly, watching her tight ring swallow more and more of the marker until a good portion is buried inside her ass. Ningning’s whole body shudders, soft moans spilling from her lips as she adjusts to the feeling.

Karina and Giselle never stop stroking your cock, their hands slick with precum as they watch the lewd scene. Karina occasionally leans down to spit on your shaft, making their combined grip even smoother.

Ningning turns her head to the side, cheeks burning red, eyes glassy as she feels the marker move slightly inside her with every breath. The other girls keep watching, completely captivated by the sight of Ningning getting her ass filled while Karina and Giselle jerk you off.

Almost the entire length disappears between her cheeks until only the very end is still visible. Ningning’s back arches, the bold DUMBASS written across her back stretching and flexing with every shaky breath she takes. Her hands claw at the couch cushions as a long, trembling moan escapes her.

“Ahhh-fuck… it’s so deep…”

Giselle, who’s still stroking your cock with Karina, bites her lip as she watches.

“Oppa… you should be careful. If you push it in too deep, we might not get it out again.”

You smirk, still holding the marker in place, feeling Ningning’s asshole clench around it.

“It’ll be fine.”

You reply casually. Then, with a teasing grin, you add:

“Or are you saying that because you want me to write more on your body instead?”

Giselle’s cheeks flush bright red. She opens her mouth, then closes it again, clearly embarrassed… but she doesn’t deny it. She just looks away, still slowly pumping your cock with her soft hand.

Karina notices something else

She glances over at Winter, who’s sitting on the armrest, completely transfixed. Winter’s eyes are glued to the marker that’s almost fully buried in Ningning’s ass, breathing a little heavier than before. She’s biting her lip hard.

Karina smiles wickedly.

“Minjeong-ah… you look very interested.”

She teases. Her voice sounds sweet but mocking.

“So eager to try it yourself, hm?”

Winter flinches, suddenly realizing she’s been staring. Her face turns bright red with shame and embarrassment.

“I-I’m not… I’m not brave enough for something like that…”

She mumbles, voice small, clearly humiliated at being caught.

Karina leans in closer, still stroking your cock lazily with Giselle.

“Maybe we can give you some courage. How about we write ANAL SLUT across your body first? Would that help?”

Winter lets out a quiet, involuntary gasp. Her thighs press together instinctively, but the way her eyes flicker with obvious arousal betrays her. She looks incredibly embarrassed… yet undeniably turned on by the idea.

She doesn’t answer right away, she just shifts uncomfortably on the armrest, cheeks burning, while Ningning continues to whimper softly with the marker still buried deep in her ass.

You look at Winter, waiting to see what she’ll say, your cock twitching in Karina and Giselle’s hands.

You’re standing in the middle of the living room, holding Winter up in your arms. Her front is pressed against your chest. Her legs are hooked over your forearms in a full carry position.

Karina steps back with a satisfied smirk, capping the marker.

“Done.”

She announces, admiring her work.

Across Winter’s entire back, written in big, bold black letters, stretches:

STUPID FREE USE TOY

Lower down, right above her small, perky ass, the words BUTTSLUT are clearly visible.

Winter has been shaking, gasping, and moaning the entire time Karina wrote on her. Her body is trembling uncontrollably in your hold, cheeks burning red with humiliation.

Ningning finally pulls her face away from Winter’s ass, lips shiny, breathing hard. She’s been eagerly eating Winter’s tight little hole for the past few minutes, getting her nice and wet. Giselle kneels right in front of you, one hand wrapped around your thick, wet cock. She strokes it slowly, aiming the swollen head directly at Winter’s twitching, freshly licked asshole.

Winter whimpers pathetically, her voice small and broken.

“Wait… it’s too big… I’ve never…”

But her words dissolve into a shaky moan as Giselle gently presses the tip of your cock against her tight ring.

Karina walks around behind you, tilting her chin up with a finger.

“Shh… be a good free use toy.”

She coos, stroking Winter’s cheek.

“You wanted this, remember?”

Giselle looks up at you, eyes dark with lust, and slowly starts guiding your cock forward, pushing the head against Winter’s resisting asshole. Winter’s whole body tenses in your arms. A shrill, nervous gasp escapes her as she feels you start to stretch her open.

You start pushing in…very slowly.

The tip presses against her challenging ring, stretching her open inch by inch. Winter’s breath catches in a sharp hiss, turning into a long, shaky whimper as her asshole slowly yields to your thickness.

“Ahh! It’s… it’s going in…”

Ningning and Giselle are right there to help.

They each grab one of Winter’s ass cheeks, spreading her open wider, helping you force your cock deeper into her virgin-tight hole. Their fingers dig into her soft flesh as they pull her apart, making it easier for you to sink further.

“Fuck… look how her asshole is stretching.”

Ningning’s eyes are glued to the sight.

Giselle bites her lip, pulling Winter’s cheek even further.

“Take it, Minjeong-ah… let oppa rip that tight little ass open.”

You keep pushing - slow, steady, relentless, but careful - feeding more and more of your thick cock into her impossibly tight ass. Winter’s whole body shakes in your hold, her small frame trembling as she’s slowly impaled.

Behind you, Karina presses her body against your back, her breath hot against your ear as she talks.

“That’s it, baby… wreck her asshole.”

She purrs, peppering your shoulder with small kisses.

“Look at this stupid little free use toy. Thought she could betray you and get away with it? Now she’s getting her ass ruined in front of all of us like the pathetic butt slut she is.”

Winter lets out a broken sob as another inch sinks into her, her asshole clenching hard around your shaft.

Karina continues, voice dripping with mock sympathy.

“Aww, is the little traitor struggling? Too bad. This is what happens when you’re a greedy anal whore who sells out her friend’s boyfriend for his own cock.”

Ningning and Giselle keep spreading Winter’s ass wider, moaning softly as they watch your cock disappear deeper and deeper into her.

Winter’s head falls back, eyes fluttering, mouth open in constant, overwhelmed gasps and whimpers. Her marked back - STUPIDFREEUSETOY and BUTTSLUT - flexes and arches with every tiny movement as you slowly force her ass to take you.

You’re barely halfway in, but she already looks completely broken.

You’re still standing in the middle of the living room, carrying Winter. Her small body is completely suspended in the air as you thrust up into her stretched asshole. Your hands grip her ass cheeks, spreading them wide so your thick cock disappears into her tight little hole easier again and again. Her ass is stretched to its absolute limit around your shaft, the pink ring gripping you desperately with every deep thrust.

Winter’s head lolls back, broken moans spilling from her lips as you ruin her ass.

“Oppa-it’s so deep-you’re splitting my ass!”

On the couch, Ningning is bent over the backrest, ass pushed out. Giselle stands behind her, slowly working the thick dildo in and out of Ningning’s tight asshole with focused, gentle strokes. Ningning moans, pushing back against the toy, her body trembling as Giselle stretches her open.

Karina has moved to the couch as well. She’s sitting on the cushions, legs spread, lazily fingering her own pussy while she watches everything. Her eyes are half-lidded with pleasure, no longer focused on degrading Winter. She’s simply enjoying the filthy show in front of her, touching herself slowly as she takes in the sight of you destroying Winter’s ass and Giselle fucking Ningning with the dildo.

You keep bouncing Winter on your cock, spreading her cheeks wide to make it easier to slide in and out of her ruined hole. Her small body jerks in your arms, almost lifeless. Winter can barely speak anymore as well, just weak, overwhelmed gasps and moans as you use her asshole like a toy.

Giselle glances over at you while she slowly fucks Ningning, biting her lip at the sight. Ningning’s moans grow louder as the dildo stretches her deeper.

Karina lets out a soft moan from the couch, fingers moving faster between her legs as she watches you carry-fuck Winter.

You stand in the center of the living room, breathing heavily, looking down at the beautiful, filthy sight in front of you. All four girls are kneeling in a tight half-circle right at your feet, their faces pressed cheek to cheek, looking up at you with flushed, eager expressions. Their makeup is ruined, spit and cum still glistening on their skin.

Ningning’s forehead still proudly displays BITCH in bold black letters. Giselle’s cheeks are clearly marked COCKSUCKER on both sides. Winter has a fresh arrow drawn on her left cheek, pointing directly at her open mouth with the words CUMHERE written underneath. Karina, however, remains completely clean. No writing anywhere on her beautiful face. She’s clearly enjoying her privileged position as your girlfriend, a smug little smile playing on her lips while the other three look properly used and humiliated.

You pull your throbbing, spit-drenched cock out of Karina’s mouth. Strings of saliva drip off your shaft.

You turn toward Ningning.

You start slapping your heavy, wet cock all over her face - slap, slap, slap - smearing spit and precum across her cheeks, nose, and forehead, right over the word BITCH. You rub your cock against her skin, consciously making her as dirty and messy as possible. Ningning whimpers, eyes fluttering. Every time your cock gets close to her mouth, she desperately tries to kiss or catch it with her lips, but you keep pulling it away at the last second, denying her.

“Mmmph-oppa, please…”

She whines, chasing your cock like a needy puppy.

You let her get close one more time before turning toward Giselle.

Ningning lets out an immediate, frustrated protest.

“Hey! That’s not fair!”

She complains, her voice hoarse and pouty.

“I was being good…”

Giselle smirks triumphantly as you start slapping your soaked cock across her marked cheeks, rubbing the head against the words COCKSUCKER written there. She opens her mouth obediently, tongue out, but you tease her the same way, rubbing and slapping without letting her suck it yet.

Karina chuckles beside them, clearly amused by the power dynamic and enjoying her clean, unmarked face while the other three get treated like filthy toys.

Winter stays quiet but visibly excited, the CUMHERE arrow on her cheek pointing at her slightly open mouth as she watches you smear your cock all over Giselle’s face.

You keep moving your cock from one girl to the next, teasing them, slapping their faces, and rubbing your glistening length across their skin while they kneel there cheek to cheek, desperate and waiting.

You turn your attention to Winter next.

Her eyes light up with hope as you slap your heavy, spit-soaked cock across her face, smearing it over her cheeks, across the CUMHERE arrow, and rubbing the glistening head against her lips. She immediately tries to catch it, opening her mouth desperately, but you pull away at the last second.

Winter lets out a frustrated, needy whine.

“Oppa… please…”

She complains, chasing your cock with her tongue.

You ignore her completely and move back to Giselle.

She opens her mouth wide on pure instinct, tongue out, eyes watering with anticipation. You grab the back of her head and push forward, sliding your thick cock straight into her throat in one motion.

“Glk-!”

Giselle gags hard around you, her throat tightening convulsively as you start fucking her face. Spit immediately begins to dribble from the corners of her stretched lips, running down her chin and dripping onto her tits in thick, shiny strands. You hold her head steady and thrust deeper, using her warm, wet throat like a toy. Giselle’s eyes flutter, tears forming at the corners as she gags and chokes around your length, but she doesn’t pull away.

After a few moments, Karina moves closer. She places her hand firmly on the back of Giselle’s head, right over yours.

“Here, let me help.”

She says with a wicked smile.

Now it’s Karina controlling the rhythm. She pushes Giselle’s head forward and pulls it back, forcing her face onto your cock again and again. Giselle’s throat bulges with every thrust, loud, wet gagging sounds filling the room as Karina uses her mouth for you.

“Fuck… that’s it.”

You groan, feeling your orgasm building rapidly. The sight of Karina face-fucking Giselle onto your cock while Ningning and Winter watch jealously, their marked faces still pressed cheek to cheek, pushes you right to the edge.

Giselle’s spit runs freely down her chin, her eyes rolling back as Karina keeps forcing her deeper.

You feel your balls tightening, the pressure rising fast as Karina looks up at you with a knowing little smirk, pushing Giselle forward and pulling her back in a steady, relentless rhythm. Wet gagging sounds spill out around your length as thick strings of spit drip from her chin onto her tits.

You groan again, hips twitching as the pleasure coils tighter and tighter in your core.

“Fuck… I’m so close.”

Ningning and Winter immediately shuffle closer on their knees, pressing their faces right next to Giselle’s, cheeks brushing together. All three of them look up at you with desperate, hungry eyes, mouths open and tongues out, clearly eager to receive your load.

Karina smirks and pushes Giselle down even deeper for a few more strokes, making her gag hard, before you finally can’t take it anymore.

You pull your cock out of Giselle’s throat.

Giselle stays exactly like that, mouth wide open, tongue hanging out, eyes completely crossed in a perfect ahegao face. Thick ropes of spit drool from her tongue. The filthy, broken expression on her face alone pushes you over the edge.

You start cuming hard. Thick, heavy ropes of cum shoot out across all four of their faces.

You do your best to spread it evenly. The first spurt lands across Giselle’s crossed eyes and tongue. The next hits Ningning’s BITCH forehead and cheek. Another thick rope paints Winter’s CUMHERE arrow and open mouth. You keep stroking yourself, aiming carefully so Karina gets several long streaks across her clean, beautiful face as well.

You paint all four of them.

Cum drips from their eyelashes, runs down their cheeks, and coats their tongues. Giselle keeps her tongue out, letting it pool there while still making that perfect ahegao expression. Ningning and Winter moan softly, eagerly licking at the cum that lands near their mouths. Even Karina closes her eyes for a moment as a rope lands across her lips and nose, clearly enjoying being included.

You milk every last drop, smearing the head of your cock across their faces to make sure they’re all properly marked and messy.

When you finally finish, all four girls are kneeling in front of you, faces covered in your thick load, breathing hard, looking up at you with satisfied, filthy expressions.

Giselle is still stuck in her crossed-eye, tongue-out ahegao state, cum dripping from her chin.

Karina licks a strand of your cum from the corner of her mouth and smiles up at you.

“Good boy.”

You stumble back a step and collapse onto the couch, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

In front of you, the four girls turn toward each other on their knees and immediately start cleaning one another. Soft, wet sounds fill the room as tongues drag across cheeks, lips, and chins. Karina kisses Giselle deeply, swapping a mouthful of your load with her. Ningning leans in and licks a long stripe up Winter’s cheek before Winter catches her in a messy kiss, pushing cum back and forth between their tongues.

It’s slow, filthy, and strangely intimate.

You just sit there and watch, completely in awe.

All four of them look utterly destroyed, hair messy and sticking to their faces, makeup ruined and running, bodies covered in sweat, spit, and drying cum. Their marked skin glistens under the lights… all of it still visible.

And you realize just how insane this month has been.

Nine different women.

You’ve slept with nine different idols this November. The thought hits you like a wave. Some of them multiple times.

Your eyes drift to Ningning and Giselle.

They’ve become noticeably louder now, kissing more passionately, tongues sliding together, hands roaming over each other’s bodies. Ningning cups Giselle’s face as they make out sloppily, sharing your cum like it’s the most natural thing in the world. There’s no more tension between them. No more jealousy or cold shoulders. They’ve clearly made up.

You let out a long, deep sigh of relief and lean your head back against the couch.

Karina banning you from cuming for the entire month of December is already going to be hell. Having Giselle living here while still carrying that awkward tension with Ningning would have made it ten times worse. At least now things between them seem… settled.

Karina notices you watching and crawls over, resting her chin on your thigh. Her face is still streaked with your cum as she smiles up at you sweetly.

“Enjoying the view, baby?”

She murmurs.

You just nod, running your fingers through her hair as the other three continue licking and kissing each other clean a few feet away.

December is going to be long.

But tonight… tonight was worth it.

“…I’m sorry.”

You say quietly.

“For sleeping with so many different women this month. I got carried away.”

Karina just lazily shakes her head, a soft smile on her lips. Some of your cum is still drying on her cheek as she looks up at you with warm, affectionate eyes.

“Don’t apologize, baby. The hardest part for me wasn’t even trying not to cum… it was knowing you were fucking one woman after another. Every time I thought about it - you bending someone over, filling them up, making them moan your name - I got so incredibly wet.”

She lets out a small, embarrassed laugh.

“I don’t think I can go through another month like this next year. It was torture… the good kind.”

You chuckle, continuing playing with her hair.

“You’re only saying that to lower my guard for next year, aren’t you?”

Karina laughs brightly and shakes her head again, playfully biting your thigh.

“Maybe.”

She teases.

By now, the other three girls have finished cleaning each other. Ningning, Giselle, and Winter crawl over and gently rest their faces on your thighs as well, cheeks pressed against your skin like tired but satisfied kittens.

Ningning and Giselle still have that lustful fire burning in their eyes, clearly not done yet. Winter, on the other hand, looks completely exhausted, her eyelids heavy and threatening to fall shut any second, even as she nuzzles softly against your leg.

Karina leans forward and presses one last soft, intimate kiss to the head of your cock, her lips lingering for a moment before she pulls back and looks up at you again.

Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she says:

“What if… instead of No Nut November next year… we do Nonstop Nut November?”

She smiles sweetly.

“You have to keep cuming the entire month. And if you can still cum at midnight on the very last day… you win.”

The other girls lift their heads slightly, intrigued. Ningning’s eyes sparkle with excitement. Giselle bites her lip. Even Winter seems to wake up a little at the idea.

You stare down at Karina, completely speechless for a moment.

She just grins, clearly proud of herself.

“So… what do you think, baby?”

---------------------

Thank you all for waiting this long. I apologize for being so damn late. I hope you guys enjoy this and are satisfied with the conclusion of last years NNN.

[writerpeach]

Suffocation

ITZY Yeji x m!reader

11k words

---

Read on Fanprose

"So," Yeji, starts, staring up at the moon, taking another drag of her cigarette. "This is it. The end of our final year. We've survived the exams and everything. We're almost done."

You glance up, not quite sharing her sentiment, watching the smoke leave her mouth and drift upwards. The way her pink hair shines in the moonlight. "Yeah, I guess."

She smiles, looking back over at you, leaning on the railing and then staring out at the city skyline. "You ever think about what would happen when I'm not here?"

"Here, where? The balcony? It's not going anywhere."

Yeji rolls her eyes, taking another hit and holding the cigarette between her fingers. "Not the balcony, idiot. College. You know what I mean."

You take a sip of your drink, one that's a bit too strong for your taste. "No, I don't. Please enlighten me."

"Stop being so difficult," Yeji grumbles, looking right at you. "Once we graduate. What then? Do we keep this up? I can't imagine a life where I'm not blowing you or having my legs spread for you, but, like—it's the real world. We're not going to live like broke, twenty-something year olds forever. Not gonna be able to go over to your place at midnight and let you rail me whenever I'm horny."

"Why the fuck not? You've been doing it for years now. I haven't exactly gotten sick of it yet."

She laughs, taking a long puff and releasing it. "But what if you do? Or if something happens," Yeji sighs, shaking her head.

"What do you mean if something happens to you? Yeji, what—"

"Nothing, nothing at all. I just mean—what if you don't want me anymore. If one day you decide this isn't worth it."

You scoff, finishing the last of your drink. "That's not gonna happen, Yeji. The hell has gotten into you?"

"You don't know that," she says, putting the cigarette out on the concrete and letting the remains fall below.

"Yes, I do. We've been together since sophomore year. We're graduating, and I've been living the best four years of my life. With you."

Turning her head, she doesn't look quite satisfied. "I'm just saying. Things change. We're not going to be these horny college kids anymore. What if I had to move away or something? Like, what if one day, I was gone and—"

"You're not fucking going anywhere, Yeji," you say, turning and cupping her cheeks. She doesn't flinch or turn away.

"I'm not. But what if one day I do and you have to find someone else to be the one that fucks you whenever you want? Unless you wanna hook up with Yuna every once in a while. She'd totally be up for it. And Chaeryeong, definitely."

"Yeji, I can't believe we're having this conversation. How much did you drink?"

"Just one," she says, holding a finger up. "Okay, maybe two. I just—I love you, okay? And I don't wanna lose this. Ever."

"Then you're not going to, because I'm not gonna let you slip through my fingers," you say, pulling her closer and pressing your lips against hers. "I love you, Yeji. You're stuck with me forever. So, stop saying stupid things."

Yeji smiles, but not the one you know. Not the playful, cocky one, the kind where she's ready to make some sort of lewd comment. Not the soft, cute one either. Not even the seductive, lust-filled grin she flashes when she's about to tear your clothes off.

"Yeji, is everything—"

"Just kiss me again," she says, pulling you closer. "Everything is fine. It's fine. Promise. I'm not going anywhere."

---

"Yeji, what are you doing?" you ask, entering the room. The lights are bright, almost blinding, and a tripod stands next to the bed. A camera is set up, pointed at the bed. She's lying there, completely nude, wearing a pair of fuzzy, pink handcuffs and nothing else.

"Oh, hey. Took you long enough."

"Did I miss the part where you were gonna explain why the fuck there's a camera set up and recording?"

"Well," she starts, sitting up from the bed. "We're graduating soon. And, you know, this has been fun. All the stuff we've done, everything we've tried."

"Uh-huh," you say, taking a step forward and trying to focus on something other than the way her body looks right now. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you were about to break up with me."

Yeji scoffs. "No, dummy. Just the opposite. I love you and all that, and I know this is going to sound crazy, but—what if we made a video. Like, a sex tape. For us. A memento, a reminder of all the good times we've had together."

You can't help but laugh. "A sex tape. For us. Yeji, you can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious," she replies, shifting on her knees. "Just think about it—you and me, naked, fucking and making a little memory. It'll be something special, something hot, and something only we get to enjoy."

"Yeji, if this is your idea of a graduation present, you could've just bought a gift card."

"It's not. Look, just sit down and listen. Okay?"

You roll your eyes, knowing full well you're gonna go along with whatever Yeji wants. "You're naked. Wearing handcuffs. On my bed. And there's a camera filming. You expect me to just listen? After all that?"

"What, do you want me to suck your dick first? I mean, I can, if that's what it takes."

"God, you're impossible," you say, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, and you love it," Yeji replies, grabbing your hand and guiding you back onto the mattress, taking a seat on your lap. "So, what do you say?"

"Do I even have a choice?"

Yeji smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "No. You know I'm stubborn as fuck. Plus, I'm already handcuffed. Would be a shame if we had to get out the ball gag too."

"As if I'd ever want to shut that pretty mouth up. Fine, let's do this, then."

"Really?" Yeji asks, face lighting up.

"What do you expect me to say, Yeji? You know how fucking hard it is to resist you, especially when you're sitting next to me, naked, and pretty as hell."

Yeji laughs, shaking her head and pushing you back into the pillows. "It'll be hot, I promise. Plus, it'll help me get off whenever I'm in the mood. And you can watch it and jerk off when I'm gone, or whatever."

"That sounds more like a present for you."

"Shut up. It's for both of us. Now if you don't mind, kitten needs a good fucking."

"Please don't ever say that again."

She laughs, shifting to straddle you and waiting patiently. "Meow."

---

"Is that—fucking, god, is that what I really look like when I cum?" Yeji asks, her eyes glued to the laptop screen, watching herself climax.

"You've never watched yourself before?"

Yeji shakes her head. "What, you think I just go around shooting porn all the time? This is my first time seeing me on camera. But damn, it was fucking hot. Holy shit. Like, holy fuck. Watching myself squirt, oh god, I'm like fucking possessed."

"I thought you wanted a memento. A reminder. Why are we watching it back already?"

"Because," she starts, pausing the video. "Because I wanted to see what it looked like. Curiosity and all. It's not often I get to see what the view looks like while you're balls deep in my ass."

"Jesus," you groan, as she presses play and resumes watching.

"Fuck, your dick looks so good pounding me like that. God, I'm such a good fucking slut, just taking it like that. Wow, look at you go—I'm just there, lying down, hands cuffed behind me, and you're just destroying my ass. And then when you pull out and cum on my face, fuck, I could watch that over and over."

You don't say anything, not while she's watching the screen, her hand working underneath her pajama bottoms.

"Look, look, this is the part where you spank me. You really went at it, huh? And I just took it. Fuck, my ass is so red. That was so fucking hot. You were fucking insane."

"I remember, Yeji. I was there."

"Shush, let me have my moment," she grumbles, biting her lip while she watches. "God, my tits look amazing. And your hands feel so fucking good, squeezing them like that. Look, there—I'm getting close. Can you see the way I'm about to cum? That's the fucking money shot."

Yeji looks away for a moment, staring right at you. "What? Aren't you gonna watch with me?"

"It's weird, seeing myself on a screen."

"Well, you can just focus on me," she says, smiling. "Oh look, here's the mating press scene. I didn't realize how hot that looked. Look, I'm totally out of it, not even thinking, just there for your cock. I look like a total whore."

"You're not a—"

"No, no. That's a compliment. I'm a whore, but, like, a high class one. The expensive kind. The kind who only takes it up the ass for you."

"You're ridiculous, Yeji," you say, giving up and focusing on the screen.

"There, see, right there. When you cum in me, right at the end. Your balls are so heavy, smacking up against my ass and just filling me up. Fuck, you were so deep. The way you sounded when you came in me…"

Yeji stops the video, closing the laptop. "We can't watch the rest."

"What? Why not?"

"I'm all sticky and need a shower," she says, climbing out of the bed. "Besides, you didn't even want to watch."

"You dragged me into it, and now I'm invested."

Yeji giggles, pulling her tank top over her head. "Come with me, then. You can get me dirty again."

---

"You know," Yeji says, staring up at you under the spray of the shower. "I think that was the best fucking sex we've ever had. Just—god, you were relentless. Didn't even know you had that much cum stored away in your balls."

"You were being a very, very bad girl, Yeji."

"Meow," she purrs, letting the water run down her chest.

"I'm never getting in the shower with you again."

"Don't act like you don't enjoy seeing me all wet and soapy."

You sigh, grabbing the shampoo bottle. "Fine, you caught me. It's not the worst sight."

"It's the best sight, and you know it," she teases, taking the bottle and squeezing some into her palm. "Here, let me."

You stay still, as her hands run through your hair, digging her fingers into your scalp, massaging and letting the lather form. "You know, we're pretty hot on camera."

"You think so?"

"Yeah," Yeji replies, moving behind you so she can massage your scalp. "Like, it's hot. Watching us, you know? Seeing what it looks like."

"Guess so," you say, leaning back and letting the water do its magic.

"I was thinking, maybe we could make another… video."

"Yeji, seriously?"

She laughs, turning you around to face her. "Yeah, why not. It's hot. I like the idea of seeing myself getting railed by you. Don't really get to see what its like to blow a load all over me from your perspective."

"What did I say about being so horny?"

"That you love it," Yeji replies, helping to rinse out your hair.

"Just think about it—you, me, the bed, a camera. The possibilities are endless. I could be the sexy schoolgirl and you're the pervy teacher. Or we could do the whole nurse and patient thing, or—"

"Yeji, please."

"We could make a lot of money selling this kind of content. I mean, look at me. My ass is a national treasure. And you're not exactly lacking, either."

You can't help but sigh. "What the hell happened to just us enjoying the video? Making a memento?"

"Well, that was before I saw how hot watching you rearrange my guts was. With your huge cock and my pretty face and tits. Come on, we could have a side hustle going."

"Yeji, are you being serious right now?"

"Totally. Look, I'm just saying. We're graduating, and we're not gonna have a steady income. At least not at first. This would help. A little bit."

"Are you really in this for the money or do you just like the idea of people watching us?"

Yeji giggles. "I can't have both?"

"Yeji, the last thing we need is a bunch of strangers jerking off to videos of us. What if our classmates find out? Or the Dean?"

"Who the hell cares? They're not gonna give a shit. And it's not like the videos would have our names or anything. We can put on masks, change the audio, whatever."

"I'm not wearing a mask to fuck you, Yeji."

"Fine, no masks. My face is the money maker anyway. And we can have fun trying out a bunch of different scenarios and stuff."

"Yeji," you sigh. "Can I say no?"

"You can try, but dunno how well that'll work. I'm stubborn. Remember?"

"Yes, yes I do. Fine. Let's make some money then."

"Yay!" Yeji cheers, wrapping her arms around you. "We're gonna have so much fun, I promise. And we're gonna get filthy rich."

"That's not the point of this, Yeji."

"It should be."

---

Everything feels different now.

Graduation is less than a week away, and you've got a nice collection of videos featuring Yeji in the heat of the moment. You've unofficially become a cameraman, having to learn about angles and lighting and a host of other things.

The money is great, too. People love Yeji. They can't get enough of her. The way her face looks, contorting with pleasure. How her voice moans and purrs, the way her tits bounce and her ass claps. The views climb, the comments pour in, the tips come flooding.

You wonder how this is your life now—how you can look around in class and see everyone, normal people, and think to yourself how many of them watch videos of your girlfriend, naked and screaming your name, her pussy creaming all over your cock. Maybe even the professors, too.

The blowjob videos in the bathroom, with the bad lighting. Yeji in her cheerleader uniform, riding you and bouncing up and down on your cock. Her, tied up and blindfolded, being teased and toyed with. The one where she squirted so hard it got all over the camera lens. The ones where she's on her knees, getting face-fucked and waiting for the camera to zoom in, the shot ending with your load painting her face.

And the one that gets the most views, her bent over the bathroom counter, your hands gripping her hips and drilling her from behind.

You think about it in class. How you're sitting next to Yeji, while there's a high possibility that half the students have seen what her pussy looks like being pounded. How she looks when she's cumming, and how her asshole stretches around your cock.

And the fact that they've probably seen you cum all over her face and tits, seen how Yeji moans when your tongue is in her ass, when you're fucking her to tears and she's a quivering, moaning mess, begging for you to keep going.

All of this running through your mind, while the professor drones on and on about some subject or another.

"Hey," Yeji whispers, leaning over. "Wanna fuck during lunch?"

You don't even bother looking, just shake your head. "What do you think?"

"I'm asking because I think you need a break. You've been a little off lately. Everything okay?"

"I'm fine," you reply, a bit too quickly.

"Is it about the videos?"

"Maybe," you mutter, glancing over. "It's just weird, you know? Being in class and knowing at least one person has probably seen me cum in your mouth."

Yeji rolls her eyes. "You can't tell me it's not a turn-on."

"I'm not saying that. But—it's just a weird though. That's all."

"We can stop," Yeji says, staring at you. "If you want. I won't make any more videos. I'll delete the ones we have."

"No," you say, turning to her. "I'm not letting your money go to waste. You're right, it's a good source of income."

"It's our money. We're partners. If you don't like it, we'll stop."

You take a deep breath, sighing. "It's not that I don't like it. It's just that every time we fuck now it's on camera. Like, I feel like it's not the same. It's not like making a sex tape, it's… kind of like working, you know?"

Yeji nods. "I get it. Look, we can slow down. Do one a week. No more. How's that?"

"Yeah, that works. Thanks, Yeji."

She smiles, reaching under the desk to grab your hand. "Good. Now, what do you say, wanna fuck in the bathroom later? I'll wear your favorite skirt. You know, the one that barely covers my ass. And the fishnet thigh-highs. Just for you."

"Why do I feel like I don't deserve you?"

Yeji laughs, squeezing your hand. "You absolutely do. I'm the one who's lucky. Now, what do you say?"

"Yes. Fuck yes."

"Knew you'd say that."

---

"Think I can go again," Yeji gasps out, breath heavy while she collapses against you. "Fuck, I'm sore, but I can totally do it. Just gimme a minute."

"Jesus, Yeji," you laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "This is, what, round three already? My balls need a break."

"I think it's four," she replies, shifting and lying flat against you. "But who's counting, right?"

"Think we made enough content for like, two months, easy."

"I could never get tired of watching you cum in me on camera," Yeji says, smiling and tracing patterns on your chest. "It's hot."

"So you keep telling me," you say, kissing her head again.

There's a long silence, a few moments passing before Yeji speaks again. "What if we did a gangbang?"

"A what?"

"A gangbang," she repeats, propping herself up and staring down at you. "You know, lots of guys. Lots of cocks. All at once. Just, like, a bunch of people. Doing me. On camera."

"Are you insane? I'm not letting a bunch of random dudes fuck you."

Yeji smiles, her hand snaking its way down to your cock, gently stroking. "I was thinking more of like, friends. People we trust. Who knows, might be kinda fun."

"No. No way. Absolutely not."

"I was kidding, you idiot. Just wanted to see what your reaction would be. Nobody gets this pussy but you. That's a promise. But it would be kinda hot, wouldn't it? Seeing how many cocks I could take at once…"

"Yeji," you groan, shaking your head.

"Fine, fine. Just a thought."

"No thoughts like that. Especially not after fucking."

Yeji leans closer, fingers running through your sweaty hair. "What if it was you? With another girl. Just her, and me, together. Would that be so bad?"

"You want to fuck someone else?"

"No, I want to watch you fuck someone else. A girl as hot as me. And I'd just watch. Touch myself, play with her tits while you pound her pussy, sit on your cute face while she sucks your dick, all that."

"You don't want me to fuck you? That's new."

Yeji shrugs, giggling. "Sometimes it's nice to watch. You get off, and so do I. Win-win."

"Is this for the content?"

"No, not everything is about the money. Sometimes it's just because I'm a kinky little freak and I want to make you happy. That's all. See my boyfriend fucking a girl while I cum."

"Jesus Christ, Yeji."

"I mean, if you don't want to, fine, but I can ask a girl in class. Maybe Yuna, she's always had a crush on you. I've heard her talk about wanting your cock, she's said it to my face. I could invite her over, she could eat me out, you could fuck her. Then, I'll join in."

"I feel like you're getting the bad end of the deal."

"No," Yeji says, pressing a kiss to your lips. "Because then I get to see another girl getting railed by you, and I'll have someone pretty to make out with, and I'll be able to taste your cock on her tongue."

"You really are a little freak."

"Aren't I? So, what do you say, wanna invite her over so I can watch you absolutely destroy her? I bet she's super into anal, too, like me."

"Fine, if it'll shut you up. Let's do it."

Yeji squeals, her lips crashing into yours once more. "This is gonna be so much fun. Thank you."

---

Graduation passes and things don't really feel much different. No more classes, no more exams, no more grouchy professors. Just … the real world. A little scary, but at least now you have a stable cashflow, thanks to Yeji and her crazy ideas.

The money is a blessing, honestly. You're still trying to figure things out, and Yeji's popularity continues to soar. The money is more than enough for the two of you to rent a little apartment, order out more often than you ever did, and have a little extra for the future.

With the financial freedom comes a little extra creativity—new lingerie, toys, props, costumes. Better lighting, a better camera, and a new computer for editing. Yeji loves dressing up, posing, putting on a show. She's a natural.

Yuna becomes a part of your lives too. She's a pretty girl, eager to please and happy to do anything, especially if it involves making either of you cum. On camera or off. Yeji loves seeing her get fucked, likes the idea of watching another girl get ravaged on your cock, likes the idea of kissing her while she's riding you. Likes being on her knees next to her, seeing her ruined makeup, the tears in her eyes, the way she gets her face right next to hers, both of them waiting for you to blast all over their gorgeous fucking faces.

The videos get raunchier. You have Yuna over a lot, and the two of them get creative. She's got a nice ass, and an incredible pussy. Yeji seems to enjoy eating her out, and Yuna's not a stranger to doing the same, either. You fuck them, both, raw, one after the other, and watch them lick the cum from each other's wrecked holes, or grind their cunts on each other before you can even think to grab the camera.

And Yeji was right—Yuna loves anal. Almost more than Yeji, and that's saying a lot. Yuna loves being choked, loves getting spanked and slapped and having her hair pulled. Unsurprisingly, Yeji loves seeing it, watching another girl choke on your cock, get her asshole destroyed, get it pumped full of cum so she can eat it out of her, share the load with her.

So the next time you're at a restaurant, all those videos paying for the appetizers, the entrees, the wine, you can't help but wonder what the hell you've gotten yourself into. Yeji looks up and smiles. "Wanna order dessert?"

"Might as well," you laugh, looking back down at the menu. "That threesome video did crazy numbers. You were right."

Yeji beams. "Of course I was. People love Yuna. We should make more videos with her. She's fun. And cute. She looked so good getting spit-roasted."

"Can't deny that," you laugh. "She's good on camera. Really good. Like, you'd think she does this all the time."

"I know, right? I bet people would pay a lot of money to even see solo content from her. Pretty thing just touching herself. Getting all needy and wet, fucking herself with a toy while she begs on camera. Dark rope tied all over her milky skin… that's a gold mine."

"She might upstage us if we're not careful. Girl has that bratty vibe going that just makes you want to ruin her. People eat that up."

Yeji nods, taking a forkful of tiramisu once it's been set in front of her. You're quiet, watching her eat, thinking about how she's gotten even more beautiful. How the videos, the money, the whole situation hasn't really changed her at all.

You're staring, you realize, and she doesn't seem to mind one bit. In fact, she seems to enjoy it. Loves the attention, loves being the center of your world, of the entire universe.

Before you can even speak, Yeji does. "Want a bite?"

You reach for the fork she's holding, but a buzz in your pocket stops you. "Hold on," you say, reaching down and grabbing your phone. "Sorry, gotta take this."

"Sure," Yeji says, her lips wrapping around the fork and pulling the tiramisu into her mouth. You rise, walking away from the table, phone pressed to your ear and head towards the restroom.

When you head back, Yeji's already smiling at your return. "Everything okay?"

With more than a little apprehension, you sit, staring off into the distance. "No. Not really."

Yeji's entire demeanor changes, concern creeping across her face. She stops eating, placing the fork on the plate. "What is it? What happened?"

"I need to leave. Like, now. I need to catch a flight tonight. I'm really sorry, Yeji."

"Wait, hold on, what's going on?"

You pause, taking a deep breath. "I don't—it's family stuff. Don't wanna worry you. Look, just let's get the check, okay?"

"Okay," Yeji replies, still obviously concerned. "Do you want me to go with you? If it's family stuff, maybe I can help."

"No," you reply, almost a bit too harshly. "No. I can't ask that of you. This is my issue, not yours. It's like, a sixteen hour flight and—"

"Hey," Yeji interrupts, placing her hand over yours. "I don't care. I'll go with you. Whatever it is, whatever the problem, I'm here. If you need me, then I'm there."

"Yeji—"

"No," she interjects. "Don't 'Yeji' me. I'm not letting you fly halfway around the world alone. So, we're gonna pay the bill, and then we're going home and packing. I'm going with you."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. It's not your fault. If something happened, I'm here. Always will be."

You exhale, trying to find the right words, something more meaningful to say than sorry. Instead, you just nod, squeezing her hand. "Y-yeah. Thanks. I really appreciate it."

"You don't have to thank me. Now come on, let's go," Yeji says, waving over the waiter.

---

You're hunched over the hotel balcony railing, staring off into the night, a lit cigarette between your lips. You don't smoke. Never have. But the occasion seems to call for it. You take a deep drag, exhaling, watching the smoke blow in the wind, and wondering how the fuck things have gone so wrong.

Yeji stands behind you, her hands on your shoulders, rubbing the tension out of your muscles. "It's going to be okay,"

"It's not."

"Don't talk like that," Yeji says, her hands sliding around your waist, pulling you into her. "I'm here."

"I know. I just—I don't know what to do. I never expected it to be this way. What am I supposed to do?"

Yeji sighs, resting her head against your back. "I wish I could tell you, but I don't have any answers. I'm just sorry this happened."

"It's not your fault."

"Still," Yeji replies, sighing. "I hate seeing you like this. How long has it been? Since the last time you saw her?"

You're quiet, the cigarette burning in your fingers. A long, slow drag. Another exhale. "A year at least. When summer break started, I went back. She was fine then. Mostly."

"Do you want me to be there? When you go and visit? I'll come with you. Do you want that?"

"Yeah," you murmur, nodding without even looking at her. "Please."

"Of course," Yeji says, arms tightening around you. "Whatever you need."

You put your cigarette out, turning and facing her. She's staring at you, a small smile on her lips, but you can see the worry in her eyes.

"Sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing."

"I know," you mutter, stepping forward and leaning against her. "Just, I dunno, feel like a burden."

"Don't. You're not a burden. It's a tough situation. There's no easy answers. All I know is I'm going to be here for you.

You nod, resting your head on her shoulder. "I really don't deserve you."

"Stop saying that," Yeji says, threading fingers through your hair. "Let's go inside, okay? It's a bit cold out here."

"Yeah," you sigh, nodding. "Yeah, let's go inside."

---

The flight back home is a blur. The only thing that stands out is Yeji, by your side, hand in hand. She holds it the entire time.

It feels surreal. But you do your best to ignore it. Instead, you focus on the present. The here and now.

And in the moment, Yeji is all you need. The best distraction you could ask for.

The videos continue. And, for a little while, you're able to forget everything else. To lose yourself in the fantasy world that's been built. The scenes get rougher, wilder, more depraved. Yeji seems to enjoy it, the crazier the better. And it helps you, or at least you tell yourself that. You feel bad about it. She doesn't.

You don't even care about the money anymore. It's not why you're doing it. The fact is that the more intense the scene is, the easier it is to forget everything. To push everything away, bury the pain, the frustration, the anger, and just… escape. The grip on her throat, the harder you're fucking her, the more it makes you forget. The camera doesn't even turn on, not for this—this is just for you. The aggression, the need, the desperation. It's rough, and Yeji doesn't stop you. Not when you're pushing her head into the mattress, not when you're slapping her ass, not when you're fucking her so hard she can barely speak.

You don't deserve her. Not in the slightest.

"It's okay," Yeji moans, her hands grabbing at your wrist, holding you against her throat. "I-it's okay, you can keep going. I can take it. Fucking ruin me, I-I can take it. Harder, please, please, fuck me. Use me, baby, use me, I can take it."

So you do. Until she's crying and drooling, tears streaming down her face and mascara running, her body a vessel for you, her legs wrapped around you and begging for more. The way you pull her off the bed, pick her up and fuck her against the wall, until she can't take it anymore and she's shaking, trembling, a quivering mess, and you're fucking her through it, through the tears, the sobs, the begging.

When your hands are in her hair, fucking her face, her makeup ruined, spit running down her chin and lipstick smeared, you're not thinking about anything else. Her throat bulging around your cock, her tongue running over your shaft, your balls slapping her chin, and her eyes looking up at you, pleading for anything but mercy.

And the more brutal you are, the harder you fuck her face, the better it is. For both of you. The way you cum down her throat when her head is dangling off the edge of the bed, how you watch her swallow, saliva and tears and depravity all over her face. How she can't stop gagging, can't catch her breath, can't do anything but take it, and when you're finished, when you're completely spent, she's there—a broken mess on her knees, covered in her own spit and yours and your seed, a picture that would give you the biggest paycheck if you weren't so busy worrying about other things.

She's the perfect distraction. You've always known that, but never more than now.

But, at some point, the distraction isn't enough. And the scenes get even rougher, and Yeji still doesn't stop you. You start to worry about her—you've never been like this. And she's never seen you like this.

It gets harder to take the edge off. Nothing's working anymore. You've got your cock buried in her ass, a hand on her throat, but you can't seem to chase that high anymore. All it's doing is making her beg for more, insisting you don’t have to be gentle, but you've given her everything, and it's still not enough.

The videos almost come to a halt. You struggle to look her in the eyes. You know you're taking it too far. And she still doesn't stop you. Seeing the bruises on her body, the welts from the belt on her ass, the bites, the scratches, the marks, they don't go away. She reassures you at every step of the way. It's okay. You're fine. She can take it.

You're not sure you believe her.

The next video you're not in it. Yeji's kneeling in front of the camera, surrounded by men. You don't know a single name, and neither does she. All you know is that they're there to use her. To fuck her, to fill her holes, to ruin her. To do anything they want. It's what she wanted, isn't it? You tell yourself that. You tell yourself this is just a fantasy. Nothing more. That you're forcing yourself to take a backseat, to sit and watch and let her do what she does best.

She's a mess. They all use her. One after the other, fucking her until she can't think straight. Cumming down her throat, on her face, in her pussy. Spitting on her, degrading her, calling her anything but her name. Slapping her face, her tits, her ass, treating her like a toy, and she loves every blissful second.

One fucking her throat, another taking her pussy, another stretching her asshole, a hard, throbbing cock in each hand like it's the most natural thing.

Like she was built for it, like she was made just to be filled, used and abused by anyone and everyone that wants a turn. It doesn't stop, and they keep using her, using your Yeji, treating her like she's a fucking sex doll. Like she doesn't have a fucking name, like she's nothing but a hole to pump and dump into.

You’ve a hand in your pants, almost reluctantly pumping your shaft, eyes fixated on the screen and knowing you're the reason she's being treated like this, because this is your idea of punishment. Because you still think you don't deserve her.

They're all over her, half a dozen bodies surrounding her, using her, destroying her. The finale is as explosive as expected, where she's on her knees, surrounded by the group, all of them jerking their cocks over her. The camera's angle is perfect, a view from above, catching her face, the way their thick cum shoots out of their cocks, landing on her pretty features. And she's smiling. Grinning. Loving every second. Sucking every drop out of them.

She's covered in it, her pristine makeup a forgotten mess, cum dripping down her chin, her cheeks, her forehead. Dripping out of her cunt, her ruined asshole, her lips glistening, her tits coated. And the whole time, you're telling yourself this is what you deserve. What you deserve for using her like a plaything, for treating her like she's not a person, like she's a toy. A fleshlight. Something to be broken and discarded.

The video makes enough money to last you a lifetime. More than enough rent for the next several years, easily. More than enough for a vacation in Tahiti at the drop of a hat.

And now, you're eating breakfast in the kitchen, the sunlight pouring in. Like you didn't just watch your girlfriend Yeji get railed by half a dozen buff guys and get covered in cum. Like it's any other day. Like it's just a job and nothing else. Like everything's normal.

Maybe it's the best distraction, because you're thinking about the way Yeji looked on her knees, getting annihilated, and not the situation at hand. Maybe that's what you're doing.

Yeji steps into the kitchen, wearing one of your t-shirts and little else. "Morning. You sleep well?"

You sip your coffee. It's bitter. "No."

"I figured. Sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"It's fine. You don't need to be walking on eggshells around me, Yeji."

"I can't help it. Just, I know it's a bad time."

She opens a cabinet, pulling a box of cereal down. Pours some into a bowl, then takes the milk from the fridge and adds some, slicing a banana and adding it on top. Then she sits next to you and eats, like this situation is everything normal.

"You're here, Yeji. No matter how bad things get, I have you. You're the best thing that's happened to me."

"I know," Yeji says, reaching out and squeezing your hand. "I wish there was something I could do. Anything."

"There's not," you sigh, sipping the coffee. "I'll go visit, that's all I can do. It'll be expensive, and—"

"Don't worry about the money," Yeji says, crunching on her cereal. "We have more than enough, and you need to be there. Money doesn't matter."

"But it's your money, too."

"No, it's not. It's our money. Your money, my money, our money. It's all the same."

You stare down at the mug. The black liquid, the steam rising, the bitterness that doesn't even phase you anymore.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Go see her," Yeji says, pausing between bites. "It's all you can do."

"What about you? I don't want to leave you alone."

Yeji smiles, and it's still not one you recognize, reaching out and placing a hand on your cheek. "I'll be fine. Promise. And Yuna said she'll stop by. So I won't be lonely."

"Yeah, okay," you mutter, finishing your lukewarm coffee. "I'll call you when I land? I love you."

---

"Hey," Yeji says, joining you at the couch. She's dressed casually, a loose fitting tank top and short shorts, hair up in a ponytail. "How was the trip?"

"Long. Tiring. Glad to be home."

Yeji nods, settling into the seat next to you, resting her head on your chest. "That's good. I'm happy you're back."

"Me too."

Yeji is silent for a few moments. She doesn't know what to say, and you don't either. There's nothing, not really.

"So…" she starts, trying to ease the tension. "I got a call while you were gone."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Yeji says, shifting nervously. "I—I got an offer. A big one. Like, a contract with a major company."

"Really?" you repeat, not quite sure you heard her correctly.

"Yeah," Yeji laughs. "Surprised me, too. It's like, a lot of money, and it would mean I'd be shooting stuff with other people, and traveling and stuff, and I wouldn't be around as much. But it would help out with travel expenses, and the whole thing would only last like six months. And the payout is huge."

"Six months?"

"Yeah. Six. But it's not like we'd be separated forever. I can come home and visit. But if you don't want me to, I won't—"

"So like, fucking other guys?"

"No, not at all. They told me it's all solo stuff. Nothing like what we do together. So, no one else. Just me. And the camera guy, I guess. I won't have sex with anyone else. Not after last time. I just—I want to know if this is okay."

"Of course. Yeji, that's amazing."

"Really? You're okay with this? Because I can turn them down."

"Do you want to do it?"

Yeji is silent, staring down at nothing. When she looks back down, she nods slowly.

"Then do it. If it's something you want, then do it. It's your choice."

"We'll still see each other though. I only leave for a week at most once a month, they said. We can call, text, video call, whatever. So you won't have to worry about being alone,"

"Yeji," you interrupt. "It's okay. You're going to make a shit ton of money, and you're going to get to travel, and do a job that you're good at, and that you love. Do it. Make some money."

"It's just," Yeji begins, sighing. "I just want to be with you. And I feel bad. Like I'm leaving. Even if it's for six months. And I won't be gone the entire time, so—"

"I said it's fine. Go. Take the contract. You're not gonna get a chance like this again. So take it."

"I love you," Yeji says, reaching forward and placing a hand on your cheek. "Thank you. I love you so much. We'll get through this, and we'll figure it out. But, I can help you with money and everything else, so just focus on yourself."

"Yeah," you say, leaning forward and resting your forehead against hers. "I love you, too. This is a great opportunity. So go."

---

You're on the balcony again. Another cigarette. It's late—almost midnight, but Yeji isn't here this time. She's been gone for a few days now. Off filming, doing her thing. You're proud of her. But you miss her.

It's hard to keep yourself distracted. You haven't slept much, either. It's impossible. When you try, all you see is Yeji's face, smiling up at you, telling you it's okay. That everything will be okay.

You wish you could believe her.

It's cold out, but it doesn't bother you. You're standing outside, watching the traffic pass by. It's soothing almost. Comforting in a strange way. Without Yeji, you're not quite sure what to do with yourself.

You take a drag, blowing the smoke into the night. All you can do.

---

Six months go by. Six months that feel like a lifetime.

"Hey," Yeji says, a smile on her lips. She's beautiful. More beautiful than you remember. And she's wearing that stupid oversized hoodie again that she stole from you. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

Yeji closes the distance between you, wrapping her arms around you, hugging you tightly. You embrace her, feeling her body against yours, her warmth, her scent, all of it.

"How was the service?"

You're not sure how to answer that. How to even begin. So instead, you just stand there, holding her. "Fine. It was fine."

"I'm so sorry," she murmurs, her voice every bit apologetic. "I should've been there."

"Don't," you say, squeezing tighter. "You didn't even know her. It's not your fault."

"But—"

"Yeji," you sigh, pulling back and looking at her. "Seriously. It's not. You didn't have to be there."

"I can't help but feel like a shitty girlfriend. Off in Japan touching myself in front of a camera when you were dealing with that. I feel awful."

"I'm glad you weren't there. I couldn't—I don't want you to see me like that. You shouldn't have to. So don't feel bad, okay?"

"Okay," Yeji says, wiping her eyes. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"No. No, I don't think I'll ever be okay. But I have you, and that counts for a lot."

"I love you," she says, leaning in and kissing you softly. "I'll be here. I promise. For as long as you want me. I love you more than anything."

"I know. I love you, too."

---

You're on a flight again, but this time, it's not heading back home. This time, it's to see Yeji. You haven't seen her in a few weeks, and the distance is getting harder and harder.

The hotel is absurdly fancy. Like the type of place you only see in movies. It's ridiculous. It's more than a suite, it's like a penthouse. The view is incredible, and the size of the place is beyond belief.

And the bed is huge, and Yeji is in the center, lying down, smiling, wearing the same hoodie. Yeji pats the spot next to her, and you crawl into the bed, joining her. She moves towards you, resting her head against your chest, a hand running along your cheek.

"I'm so glad you're here," Yeji says, looking up at you. "I've missed you so much."

"Yeah, me too."

Yeji sighs, nuzzling her head against your neck. "It's been a rough few weeks."

"Yeah. For me, too."

There's a silence, an uncomfortable one. Like there's something weighing on her mind.

"Is everything okay?"

Yeji shifts, sitting up. "Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. It's just—they made me an offer. A better one."

"Better?"

"Yeah. Better. It would mean more money, a longer contract, and—and it's not just solo stuff anymore. It's not even porn.”

"What do you mean?"

"I would be," Yeji begins, swallowing. "It's more of a—a creative producer thing. Traveling around, doing what they need. Going places. It's not porn. It's like, the opposite of porn."

"I fail to see the problem here. That sounds pretty good."

"Because," Yeji says, her lip quivering. "I have to move. I have to move to Tokyo. They want me in Japan. And if I accept, I have to. And I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to leave you. Because then we're even further apart. We won't be able to see each other, not nearly as much. We'll just—we'll be apart. And I don't want that."

"If it's more money, then—"

"It's a lot of money," Yeji sighs. "Like, a lot of money. More than I could ever dream. It would be enough that we'd never have to worry about anything ever again. I would never have to film another video, not ever. And I'd make enough for us. For both of us."

"So, do it."

"But we'd be apart. We'd never see each other."

"Yeji," you sigh, taking a breath. "It's only a few hours. I'll come visit. You'll come visit."

"it's not the same. I want to be with you. I can't imagine a life without you. I can't."

You take a moment, a long pause. Trying to choose the right words, the ones that matter. The ones that will convince her.

"Yeji. If it's a good deal. Take it."

"But—"

"No," you say, cutting her off. "No. Take the offer. Take it and make as much money as possible. I want this for you. For us."

Yeji shakes her head, wiping her eyes. "I can't."

"You can."

"What if," Yeji says, her voice shaking. "What if—what if things don't work out. What if I'm gone and you get tired of waiting and then—"

"That's not gonna happen. Not ever."

"How can you be so sure? I've never been apart from you for that long. Ever."

"Because I love you, dummy. So, take the offer. And when you're done, and you've made enough money to buy a small country, then you can come back. We'll figure it out before then."

"Promise?"

"Yes. Promise."

---

"Happy birthday," Yeji says, giving you a wide grin. "I know it's not for a couple of days, but—"

You didn't even remember.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks."

"Did you forget?"

"A little."

"Dumbass," Yeji laughs. "Well, I got you a gift. So, there's that."

"You didn't have to."

"Don't be silly," she scolds, grabbing something off the bed nightstand. "You're my boyfriend, of course I had to. It's not much, but, well, you'll see."

She hands you a box, wrapped nicely, a red bow tied on top. You take it, ripping the paper and opening it.

Inside is a black collar. A very specific kind. A collar with the word kitten written on the front in pink.

"I don't wanna alarm you, but I think this may be a little too small for me," you tease.

Yeji blushes, a faint shade of red. "You're such an ass. It's not for you."

"It's not?"

"No," Yeji says, rolling her eyes. "It's for me. I figured since we're going to be apart, I'll have something to remember you by. And to think about."

"Kinky."

"You're such a jerk," Yeji says and punches your shoulder. "Do you like it?"

"I do. Very much. Wear it for me tonight?"

"Of course," she says, kissing your cheek. "For the whole weekend. Only for you."

---

The goodbyes never get any easier. The flights get longer, and the separation gets harder. Every time you say your farewells, it hurts more and more. And the worst part is, you don't know how long she'll be gone this time.

It's like the longer you're apart, the further apart you get.

It's the third or fourth cigarette today alone. You're on the balcony, again. Without Yeji. Watching the world go by like you're no longer a part of it.

You're not sure when it'll get easier. If it will ever get easier.

---

"Hey!" Yeji says, sitting down next to your stool at your favorite bar, a martini in hand. "Sorry, traffic was a bitch. Long time no see."

"Yeah," you reply, sipping your cocktail. "Been a while."

Yeji is wearing a tight red dress, her hair no longer pink but blonde, long, past her shoulders. High heels, the whole nine yards. You haven't seen her this dressed up in years, maybe ever. And the makeup is perfect, her lips full, her eyes bright, the eyeliner sharp.

"You look nice," you say, staring into her eyes.

"Thanks. I wanted to dress up. You look handsome, as always."

You force a smile. "I haven't seen you this dressed up since, well, I'm not even sure when."

"Well, this is a special occasion," Yeji giggles, sipping her martini. "This is our four year anniversary. Glad I could take off work and fly home."

"Me too."

"It's so good to see you," Yeji says, placing a hand on your knee. "I missed you. And the apartment. And our bed."

"And me."

"Yeah," she laughs. "And you. Obviously."

Everything seems out of place, and yet, normal. Like Yeji being here isn't something unusual. You should be happier. You should be overjoyed. You should be celebrating. And yet, you can't bring yourself to.

"How was Tokyo?"

"Lonely," Yeji says, expression dampening. "I miss you. I miss the apartment, the kitchen, everything. Being here—it doesn't feel the same."

You nod, staring down into your drink.

"What's wrong? I thought you'd be happy to see me. Is it the time? Or—"

"Nothing," you interrupt, sipping your drink. "Just happy you're home."

"Yeah," Yeji says, clutching her cocktail. "Me too."

There's silence where there shouldn't be. You should have a million things to talk about, and yet you don't. There's nothing. It's like there's a distance that wasn't here last time, when Yeji came back for a few days for vacation. Things are different. Unfamiliar.

"I want you to come see Tokyo. With me. It's so beautiful. So romantic. Maybe—maybe not for business. Just a vacation, just the two of us."

You nod absently, taking a sip. "Yeah. Sounds fun."

"Really?" Yeji asks, her excitement not dimming in the least. "Oh my god, I'm so excited. There are so many places I want to show you. It's so different from Korea. And there's this great market where the food is amazing and then, then—"

Yeji is talking but you're not hearing it. It's a distant memory. As if she's talking through static. You just nod, sip your drink, watch her and pretend everything's normal.

Eventually she notices something is up.

"Am I boring you?" she laughs, blushing. "I must be going on about all these stupid things. I know, just a lot on the mind. Can you blame me?"

You for another smile, placing your glass down on the bar counter. "No. I've missed your voice. The sound of your laughter. Seeing you smile."

"Are you sure? Because you haven't been very engaged lately."

"Sorry," you mumble, feeling your chest tighten.

"Stop apologizing," Yeji says. "Don't."

You don't look up from your drink, picking it up, taking another sip. "Yeji—"

"Yes, baby?"

"I'm glad to have you here. Even if it's only a short time."

She reaches out, placing a hand on your thigh and squeezing. Her touch feels quaint. None of this feels real. It's all foreign, it's like some alternate reality, that none of this is happening.

"I would stay forever if I could," she sighs. "I miss waking up next to you. I hate falling asleep without you next to me. This whole deal, it was a bad idea. The apartment they gave me isn't home, not even close."

Yeji is talking, but she's a million miles away, and it's all happening so fast, you can't process it. You can't keep up with her. You want to, but the words blur into each other, and it's impossible to decipher. "You have to try the food while you're in Tokyo. The sushi is so fucking good, I promise you."

"Yeji, I'm going back."

Her face changes immediately, a frown taking over the smile. "Back where? Back home?"

You can't look up, can't face her. Instead you just stare into your drink, watching the light filter through the alcohol. "Yeah. Back home."

"For how long?" Yeji asks. "A week? Two? I don't leave till Monday—"

"I'm not coming back."

The silence is deafening. It's painful. Like a vice around your neck, gripping tighter. You can't breathe, and you know Yeji probably can't either.

"No," she laughs weakly. "What—what do you mean you're not coming back?"

"I have to. You're there, doing your thing. Everything is falling apart back home. They need me. I can't stay."

"I—I'll come back. I can come back with you. I can wrap things up and—"

"You're happy in Japan," you interrupt, finishing off your drink and putting the glass back down on the counter. "I can't ask you to do that. This is your life. Your career. And you're good at it."

"I'll figure it out. I don't care, I'll talk to my boss—"

"Don't be ridiculous," you say, a lump forming in your throat. "You can't. You signed a contract. They can't release you without some penalty. Don't throw it all away. Not because of me."

Yeji stares at you, a mixture of confusion and fear on her face. "Who cares about the goddamn contract, we'll make it work. Like we always do. We'll make it work."

"You're happy in Tokyo, Yeji. Happier than I've ever seen you. Don't fuck that up for me."

She laughs, as if what you're saying isn't making sense. As if any of this isn't really happening. "You think I'm happy over there without you? In my shitty little apartment all alone? With my bad Japanese? I miss you every goddamn day. Everything hurts without you, and I've been a total mess and—"

"Stop," you interrupt. "Stop it."

Yeji reaches forward, grabbing onto your shoulder. "I'm coming back. And when I do, things will go back to the way they were. Okay? I love you, and that won't ever change. I know things haven't been great. I know—I know I'm busy. But that'll get better, you'll see, and—"

"We can't keep doing this," you sigh, turning towards her.

"Keep doing what?"

"This," you repeat. "We can't. It's not fair. To either of us. I have to take care of my family, and you can't just ditch everything and move back home with me. You can't."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Yeji scoffs, tears starting to run down her face. "I would do anything for you. I would."

"And I can't let you do that."

"Don't tell me what to do," she replies, a scowl on her face. "Don't tell me what's best for me. I'll be the judge of that."

"No," you say, wiping your eyes. "I love you. But it's not the same. I can't live a life where we're separated, where we only see each other a few days a month. It's not—it's no way to live. We both know this."

"You think I want that, too? To live apart? To have a cold bed every night? To eat ramen on my couch alone?"

"No," you reply. "I don't. I can't imagine a life without you. But I can't ask you to come back home with me. To abandon your new life."

"You're not asking me to do anything. I'm choosing to. Because I love you."

"And I love you, too," you reply, feeling your heart sink deeper. "More than anything. Which is why I can't keep doing this. Why I won't keep doing this. We deserve better."

"Better than what? Better than us?"

You don't answer her, you can't. If you do, then it becomes real, and then there's no going back.

"Please, don't," she pleads. "Please."

"What the fuck do we do, Yeji?" you ask, swallowing, trying to catch your breath, trying not to lose it. Trying not to break down in front of her.

"I-I don't know. I don't know."

"I don't either. The only thing I know is when I get back on that flight and go back to Seoul, I'm not gonna be coming home to a bed with you in it. And that kills me."

"I can change that. Just give me a week. Two, tops. Then I'll come back with you."

You don't look up, keeping your gaze firmly planted the drink in your hands, trying your damnedest not to lose your composure. Trying not to break, trying to stay strong. For her, because the moment she sees the cracks, she'll break, and then there's no fixing it.

"Are—are you," Yeji stammers, her lip quivering, fresh tears falling, one after the other. "Are we breaking up?"

You can't even believe the words coming out of her mouth, much less that she's the one saying them. That it's even coming up, even a thought. "Trust me, Yeji. That's the last thing I want right now."

She gets up from her chair, walking towards you, her arms wrapping around your neck, holding you tightly against her. "Good. Then we won't."

Maybe you're just selfish. Maybe you're just staving off the inevitable. Maybe you just don't have the strength to break her heart. Maybe you can't bear to watch her cry another tear. Or maybe you just don't know how to say goodbye.

"Okay," you murmur. "We won't."

---

You stare at the silver key in your outstretched palm, the one for your apartment. The key to your apartment in Seoul that Yeji hasn't lived in for a few months. And she's not even here to witness you locking it for the final time.

Not exactly a bittersweet goodbye. More bitter than anything else. You drop the key through the office mail slot, the sound of it clinking against the bottom echoing loudly in the empty hallway. Your phone vibrates.

Yeji: You made it?

Yeah. Call you when I get home.

Yeji: Okay. Love you.

Love you too.

Once again you're on a flight. And once again, Yeji isn't on it.

---

You're in Tokyo. It's been a few months. Yeji invited you for a long weekend, and you were stupid enough to accept.

It's strange seeing her in person, being this close. But also the strangest thing to normalcy, after such a long period of time. Yeji's apartment is in a quieter neighborhood, it's nice. Small, but nice. And the view of the city is beautiful, even from here you can see the skyline, and it's breathtaking.

It reminds you of everything you should have together. The little garden on the patio, the cozy couch in the living room, the quaint little kitchen, all of it. You should be here, in this place. And yet, you aren't. And it's not Yeji's fault. But that doesn't make it sting any less.

"Do you like it?" Yeji asks, bringing two glasses of red wine out onto the small balcony.

"Yeah. I do. It suits you."

You stand against the railing, looking over the city. A light drizzle falls from the sky, as if even the weather is mourning your situation.

Yeji walks up, standing next to you. The smell of her perfume is exactly the same, a welcome aroma you've been without for a while. You missed it. You miss her.

The months without her feel like an eternity, and yet the long weekend feels like seconds. And once it's over, the void will just be deeper. The emptiness more torturous. The distance even greater. You shouldn't be here. But you are. Because you're an idiot, and you'll take any excuse you can get, to see Yeji again, even for a short while. Even if it kills you inside.

"Thanks," she replies, holding the wine out to you. You take it, taking a sip. It tastes like nothing. The flavor is all but absent. Or maybe its because the only taste in your mouth is bitterness.

You don't say anything. It's as if any and all words you might've said, you've already said a hundred times over. And none of it matters, not a bit. You look over at her, and her hair is longer, and she looks even more beautiful, even more breathtaking than you ever thought possible. You just wish you didn't have to see it, not from such a distance, and not for a single weekend.

"I've missed you," she says, looking over at you. "Every single day. You're always in my thoughts, in my head. I'm not me without you. Not even a little bit."

"I'm right here," you reply, trying not to fall into this. "I'm not going anywhere."

"It's not the same. You know that."

"No, it's not."

"So, what do we do? How do we fix this? It's either we continue these weekends, where I only get to see you for a couple days, or—"

"Yeji," you interrupt. "No. Please, don't even suggest it."

She doesn't answer for a while, a long, awkward silence between the two of you. The rain falls heavier now, the wind picking up, a cold breeze cutting right through you.

"I won't. I'm sorry. I just, I hate this. I hate everything about this. This is all my fucking fault for taking that stupid porn job, for taking the offer after. I hate it."

You place your glass down, turning towards Yeji, your arms wrapping around her tightly. She cries into your chest, and you just hold her, rubbing her back softly. "It's okay. Don't say that."

"I-I don't know how I ever thought I could leave you behind."

"Don't. It's not your fault. Don't even suggest it. Not once."

You look up towards the dark clouds overhead, the rain falling harder on the balcony floor. Yeji clinging tightly to you like if she lets go she might never see you again. You squeeze tighter, kissing her on top of the head, not caring that your clothes are getting soaked.

"I'm here, living in Tokyo, making more money than I'll ever need in a lifetime, but none of that matters. Nothing. It means nothing without you. None of this is worth it if I don't have you by my side."

"Yeji, please, stop it."

"No. It's the truth. I know I said this would be temporary. But it's not. I can't. I can't do it. Not even another day, another hour. Not even another goddamn second."

The rain continues to pour. You kiss the top of Yeji's head. The smell of her shampoo brings you back to simpler times, to happier memories, of all the things you wished you still had. "What the fuck are we supposed to do, Yeji?"

Yeji doesn't answer, crying into your chest. She doesn't stop, and neither does the rain. It doesn't feel like it ever will. It's like you'll never find an end to all of this.

"Yeji—"

"Move in with me," Yeji begs. "Don't go. Don't get on that plane Monday. Don't."

You just stare at the night sky above you, the dark clouds rolling over. The lump in your throat doesn't get smaller. "Yeji. Don't make this harder. Please."

"I-I know, I'm selfish. I know, I'm so sorry. I'm being such a selfish bitch. You can't ditch your life to come live with me here. It's not fair to ask that, and I'm so sorry. Maybe we s-should—maybe we should just end things. Tonight. No more weekends. No more flights back and forth. No more—"

Yeji stops, burying her face back in your chest, crying. You squeeze harder, not letting go. Not even a little.

"I can't give up on you, Yeji. I won't."

"Please. I'm not asking you to give up. But we can't—this isn't working. We've barely talked in months. And when we do it's never enough, I want to spend every minute with you but I can't. And I can't keep asking you to give up everything, just for me."

You hate it when Yeji is right. You hate the truth of it. You hate every last goddamn word, but none more than this one. And that makes it all the more real, all the more painful, all the more soul-crushing.

She pulls away from your chest, looking up at you, tears flowing. She looks beautiful even when she cries. It's the last thing you want to see, and it kills you to know this might be the last time you see it.

"Y-yeah," you mutter, your eyes blurring, unsure of what just left your lips. "Yeah. Okay."

She nods, trying to wipe away the tears that won't stop flowing, one after the other. You can't stop them either, and neither of you can do anything but fall further apart. "Okay. I love you. I'll always love you, no matter what. Don't ever forget that."

You kiss her one last time, tasting her for what you might have to believe is the last time, your hands cradling her cheeks.

"I know, Yeji," you say, breath heavy, trying not to let yourself break down completely, but you're already losing this fight. "I know. I love you, too. So fucking much. You'll always be my kitten, Yeji."

Yeji breaks out in a sad, almost-cackling laugh, clutching onto you tightly. "Always, baby. Always."

So you wipe her tears, letting yours run free, unbothered by anything else. Yeji places her forehead against yours, squeezing her eyes shut, her lips quivering, crying even harder.

You know there's a chance of saving this. But this isn't that. It's the opposite. It's letting go. And that's not what either of you wants, but you're so tired, you're exhausted. And the thought of spending even another second without Yeji feels impossible, even for another day, another heartbeat.

But there's nothing else to do. Not a goddamn thing, and maybe letting her go is the kindest thing you can do. Maybe.

[unholybacon355]

Midnight Cookie

Kim Sooin x M! Reader

Word Count: 6.3 K

Masterlist

Tags: Fingering, masturbation, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex.

A/N: Happy Birthday Swimkim.

The scent of vanilla mixed with chocolate and something baking woke you up as if you were in a cartoon. Without giving it much thought, you got up and followed the trail of the smell, which was clearly coming from the kitchen. Still half-asleep, you crossed the dimly lit living room; the only light on in the entire apartment was in the kitchen. The counter separating the two rooms let the light reach you, at least allowing you to see where you were stepping.

Just as you imagined, in the middle of the kitchen, moving calmly and absentmindedly, was your roommate. It didn’t surprise you at all; this wasn’t the first time you’d woken up in the middle of the night to find her baking something. Sooin had a tendency to stay up very late; it was something you’d already gotten used to.

Yawning, you sat down at the counter, resting your elbows on a spot free of flour and kitchen utensils. Holding your head in your hands, you watched Sooin in silence. She was clearly wearing earbuds because she didn’t hear you approach or pull out the chair to sit down.

When she finally turned around, she let out a scream and jumped slightly, startled by your presence. The dumb look of surprise on her face made you burst out laughing.

“Was I making too much noise?” Sooin asked after setting the wooden spoon in the sink and taking out her earbuds.

“No,” you replied, yawning. “Actually, it was the smell that woke me up. What flavor are they?”

“Those.” Sooin pointed to a tray covered with some kitchen towels. “They’re oatmeal with chocolate chips. The ones I just put in the oven are oatmeal and peanut butter.” Her lips curved into a smile; that recipe was new. “No,” she exclaimed, slapping your hand.

You had grabbed one of the freshly baked cookies, one from the tray, but Sooin saw you and slapped your hand to make you drop it, as if you were a little kid getting into mischief. The cookie fell to the floor and rolled away into the darkness.

“They’re fresh out of the oven. Not only could you burn yourself, but you could also get sick if you eat them this hot.” Sooin was right about both things; if it had been because she slapped your hand, your fingers would be burning right now, or at least your skin would have turned red.

Without saying another word, Sooin took a few steps back and bent down with her back to you to pick up the dropped cookie. If the slight start you got from the thud hadn’t woken you up completely, then what you saw certainly did the trick.

As had also become a habit, at least during the summer, Sooin dressed lightly to cook at night. It was almost as if she’d been lying in bed and, unable to sleep, had gotten up and put on the first thing she found. That night she was wearing less clothing than ever. A simple shirt that was too big for her and reached down to her thighs, and some fuzzy slippers that looked pretty comfortable and warm.

When she bent over, you could also see that under the shirt she wasn’t wearing shorts but just a pair of simple black panties, which had ridden up into her butt from the movement she made to grab the cookie. With total brazenness, or rather without a care that you were staring at her butt, she slipped her fingers under her panties and adjusted them as she straightened up.

She knew you were enjoying the view, but she didn’t really care. She never did, at least not when you were watching. It wasn’t like Sooin went around wearing the most revealing clothes or showing a lot of skin. I mean, you could count on one hand the times you’d seen her wearing something with a neckline, plus she usually wore baggy pants and stuff like that. It was in the comfort of the apartment you shared that her outfits became lighter.

She knew you looked at her legs whenever you could, it was impossible not to when she had those shapely, plump thighs, but she didn’t seem to mind. She felt comfortable enough with you to let you feast your eyes on her from time to time, as long as you didn’t overstep your bounds.

That was Sooin. Carefree, cheerful, mysterious, a little clumsy at times, a great cook, a good student.

You met her one rainy winter afternoon. When you arrived at that apartment, she was already living there, so you had to adjust to her. Which, in reality, wasn’t that difficult for either of you. Sooin didn’t do much besides cook late at night and occasionally go out with her friends. You, on the other hand, were much the same. You spent most of the day on campus, and when you were home, you stayed in your room except when you had to clean and do things like that.

“Couldn’t sleep again?” Although it was usual for Sooin to cook late at night, today it was perhaps too late even for her.

She responded with a nod and a strange smile. That was all you needed to know to confirm that she’d had another nightmare.

“You know you can come sleep with me when you have nightmares.”

Sooin let out a little giggle. “If this is your way of flirting with me, let me tell you, it’s terrible.” Despite the teasing, she knew you weren’t doing it for that reason. That it was a sincere offer.

You could see in Sooin’s eyes that something was wrong, that something was tormenting her, but you were sure she wasn’t going to tell you anything. You were her roommate, not her confidant. Hell, you weren’t even her best friend. Sure, you were friends, let’s be clear about that, but Sooin was never going to tell you something as personal as why she was having nightmares. You even had the feeling that her closest friends didn't know the reason either, and that maybe you were the only one who knew she had trouble sleeping.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust you; rather, she didn’t want to burden you with her problems. It was as if she felt that telling you how she felt or what tormented her at night would only add an unnecessary weight to your shoulders. You weren’t going to argue with her about it; you’d already seen that Sooin could be pretty stubborn. She’d rather sleep poorly than turn to you for help.

Sooin made a move to throw the dropped cookie in the trash, but you stopped her by grabbing her wrist. “Leave it.”

“But it’s dirty.” Sooin looked at you with that face she sometimes made, the one that made her look really stupid despite not being it. With her eyes wide open and her lips slightly parted.

Curving your lips into a smile, you replied, “I know, but I can clean it. I’m going to end up getting fat, but I don’t want to waste anything you cook.”

“Aaaawww! That kind of flirting works better on me.” With a little giggle, she set the cookie down on the counter.

“I’m not flirting with you.” The feigned irritation in your voice made her laugh even more. Which calmed you down a bit, since if she wasn’t going to tell you what was wrong, at least you could distract her by making her laugh. “You’re not even my type.” You added almost without thinking.

“Oh, so you weren’t just staring at my butt. Not at all.” More giggles. You knew she knew you were looking at her, but this was the first time she’d made a direct reference to it. At least in such a direct way.

“Guilty as charged.” You pleaded, raising both hands. “But to be honest, your butt wasn’t the only thing I was looking at.”

She raised an eyebrow, somewhat intrigued. “Apparently my cookies aren’t the only thing you’re interested in.” You both burst out laughing in unison, which sounded strange in the quiet of the night.

“What else were you looking at?” There was genuine curiosity in her voice, as if she were flattered that you admitted you were looking at her.

“I’m not going to tell you. You’ll think I’m a pervert.”

“You were staring at my butt. What could be more perverted than that… Don’t tell me you touched yourself thinking about me!” For some reason, her eyes widened when she said that last part.

“Eeeww, nooo.” You waved your hand to dismiss the idea. “I was just looking at your legs. You have beautiful thighs.”

“Oohh. So I’m not hot enough for you to do it while thinking about me?” The question was accompanied by a giggle, but you were sure she was actually being very serious.

“Yeees, you’re hot. Not only do you have beautiful thighs, but you also have a perfect ass. It’s just that… I don’t know.” You really didn’t know how to respond. “Anyway, why are we talking about who I think about when I masturbate?”

“We’re not talking about that; what we’re discussing is whether or not you think about me when you masturbate.” At least Sooin was right about that. A mere technicality, but she was correct. “At least you admitted that I’m attractive.”

“Come on.” You snorted. “As if you didn’t know. It’s impossible to wake up every morning with that pretty face and not know how attractive you are.”

This time Sooin covered her mouth with her hand to laugh. “It’s different knowing it than having it said to you.” She spoke from behind her hand.

You blushed when you realized you’d just told your roommate not only that she was beautiful, but also that she was hot. But what Sooin did next made your cheeks burn and left you equally flustered.

She walked around the table and, with total brazenness, sat down on your lap. That was something that had never happened before. The closest you’d ever been to each other was when you hugged, but that was a one-time thing that happened only once. It was very different from having Sooin sitting on your lap, her shirt slightly hiked up, exposing her beautiful thighs. Those very thighs you’d been talking about just moments ago.

“What…” For some reason, you pulled your hands away so as not to touch her, but the weight of her on your legs was very real. “May I ask what you’re doing?”

Sooin answered your question with one of her own. “Have you really never masturbated while thinking about me? Not even once?”

“No.” You hurried to reply. “I tried it once, but I don’t know. It didn’t feel right—” You cut yourself off mid-sentence because Sooin kissed you on the cheek. It was a simple, innocent kiss, but for some reason it made your heart race. “And that?”

“A thank you. My old roommate used to rummage through my dirty laundry, so I guess you’re a significant improvement. Even if you did get hard from having me sit on your lap.”

Your cheeks seemed to turn bright red when you realized that you did indeed have a boner, and that your erection was pressing against her thigh.

“Why don’t you ever say anything if you know I’m looking at your ass?” The question just popped into your mind, and you weren’t able to hold it back.

“I don’t know. I don’t really care much if it’s you.” Sooin replied, shrugging her shoulders. “You’re a good person and you’ve never tried to take advantage of me, not even that time I got drunk and Gawon practically had to drag me to my bed.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, still not knowing where to put your hands. “If we’re going to fuck, let it be because we both want to.”

She kissed your cheek again before resting her head on your shoulder, while she wiggled her feet happily. For a few minutes, Sooin didn’t say anything, and neither did you; all you could hear was the oven timer counting down the minutes until the new batch of cookies was ready.

Since the topic had come up—or rather, since she’d brought it up—and not knowing if you’d ever get to talk about this with her again, a question popped into your head. A genuine question, with no hint of flirtation or anything else.

“What do you think about when you masturbate?” you blurted out without thinking. There was no way to sugarcoat that question, but since she’d asked you something similar, you figured it wouldn’t be a problem.

“Mmmhh. A little of this, a little of that,” Sooin replied after thinking about it for a moment. “I usually just use my imagination, but sometimes I use porn. Want to see?”

“What?” Yes, you’d heard her correctly, but you had to ask anyway.

“Come on.” Sooin ignored your question, sliding off your lap to stand up. She took your hand and pulled you along with her to the couch, where she motioned for you to sit down while she grabbed the remote.

“Sooin, what’s going on?” you asked, perhaps too quietly, because it was clear that something wasn’t quite right. You couldn’t quite figure out what, but something wasn’t right here. That she didn’t mind you looking at her butt was one thing, but this was getting weird.

“Nothing. Just things a girl has to do to sleep well.” Sooin said in a whisper that was more for herself than in response to your question.

The light from the TV illuminated her face, casting strange shadows over her features, as Sooin pressed buttons on the remote in search of something. She didn’t say anything else until she hit play on a movie and flopped down next to you on the couch.

“I guess this movie will have to do. I’ve wanted to watch it for a while.”

“What’s it about—oohhh, it’s that movie.” Sooin had put on a porn movie you knew, or at least had heard of. A former singer had been forced to make her debut as a porn actress because of her debts. It wasn’t that you were particularly interested in that sort of thing, but the story caused quite a stir when it happened.

On the screen, a young woman in her early twenties was wearing sexy lingerie as she danced seductively. After the intro, the girl got down to business. In this new scene, she was on her knees, sucking two men’s dicks at the same time.

Meanwhile, on the couch, Sooin had pulled both feet up to hug her knees as she stared intently at the screen, not missing a single detail of the girl. You weren’t missing any details of her reactions either, casting furtive glances at Sooin, watching how she looked at the screen with a focused expression.

You had to admit the movie was at least decent. You could tell the actress wasn’t very skilled at giving blowjobs, but your cock was hard anyway. Well, the truth was, you’d been hard ever since Sooin sat on your lap, but now it was throbbing in a way that was getting more and more insistent.

You were snapped out of your reverie by the fact that, surprisingly, and against all expectations, Sooin dropped one leg between yours. When you turned to see what the hell she was doing, you saw her with her other leg still on the couch, but now her shirt was pulled up so she had free access to her crotch. There, her fingers moved slowly and gently, tracing circular motions over her panties.

Without looking at you, but aware that you were looking at her, Sooin gave a nod of affirmation. She slowly moved her head up and down. It wasn’t as if she needed to give you permission, but knowing she was on board somehow relieved you a little.

Seeing her actions, your cock demanded some kind of touch. With nothing to lose and unable to hold back any longer, you rubbed your bulge. Immediately, a feeling of well-being washed over you, but so did the need for more. Those gentle touches weren’t enough to calm you down.

You wanted to pull out your dick and jerk off properly, or at least slip your hand into your pajamas to touch yourself harder, but you weren’t sure about taking that step. Up until now, Sooin had been the one setting the pace. You didn’t want to ruin the moment by pulling out your dick and scaring her off.

Moans and other obscene noises came from the TV, which only increased your desire to masturbate. When you felt Sooin’s breathing become somewhat ragged, you realized she had slipped a hand under her shirt and was grabbing a breast, probably stimulating her nipple. She looked at you, biting her lower lip, and then you understood that this was serious.

“Why are you so shy? Don’t you like what you see?” Sooin’s fingers continued to trace circles over her crotch, but now applying more pressure and moving a little faster.

You swallowed hard. Of course you liked what you were seeing—so much so that you weren’t sure whether to keep watching the movie or just watch Sooin. You decided to grab your bulge and start jerking off over your pajamas, casting not-so-discreet glances at your roommate. Who was now moving her hand at a steady rhythm.

For the second time that night, Sooin rested her head on your shoulder. The movement caught you off guard; of course, you didn’t expect her to rest her head on you while she was masturbating. But in reality, you also didn’t expect her to have her leg over yours, much less that she was going to masturbate in your presence.

“She should go into this.” The comment almost made you laugh. You admired how, despite the unusualness of the situation, Sooin could keep talking as if nothing were wrong, but you agreed with her anyway. From what little you knew, the girl in the movie seemed better suited to acting than singing.

Fixing your gaze on the TV, you rested your head on hers; she rubbed her face against your shoulder without stopping her masturbation. You rubbed your cock harder, feeling your fluids start to seep out and stain your pajamas. You didn’t care at all because it actually helped you feel more. From the start, rubbing against your clothes hadn’t been as effective as you’d hoped.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Sooin pulling her underwear to one side, revealing her cunt and starting to play directly with her folds. You wanted to look directly at what she was doing, you didn’t care about the movie anymore. Sooin was taking all your attention.

A small moan reached your ear, almost like a whisper just for you, even though it was just the two of you there. After that, you couldn’t take it anymore; you simply grabbed your pajama bottoms at the waist and pulled them down to free your cock from its torturous confinement. Immediately, you wrapped your fingers around your throbbing shaft and began to stroke, taking care not to move too abruptly so as not to disturb Sooin, who was still resting on your shoulder.

More moans came directly into your ear. You looked at your roommate’s crotch and realized she had gone from rubbing her vulva to straight-up sticking two fingers inside. She was still watching the movie, but you weren’t interested in that anymore; the wet sounds of her pussy were all you could think about.

Then she began moving her head slowly while you mimicked her. She slid her fingers in and out of her pussy while you stroked your cock. Without either of you stopping, you turned your heads until your gazes met. Sooin’s deep, beautiful eyes locked onto yours as she pressed her forehead against yours.

Sooin opened her mouth to moan softly, but you couldn’t stop looking into her eyes as she masturbated, as you masturbated. As if hypnotized by the moment, you moved, rubbing noses, opening your mouths to gasp from the effort and pleasure of masturbating side by side. Slowly, moving gently, Sooin stuck out her tongue and extended it toward you in an inviting gesture. You did the same, and your tongues met amid gasps from both of you.

The next thing you knew, your lips were pressed against Sooin’s. Her tongue traced the contours of your mouth as your lips danced together. You let yourself go and slipped your tongue into her mouth; she didn’t protest the intrusion. Quite the opposite, she sucked on your tongue. Which made your cock throb with a life of its own.

You both panted into each other’s mouths as you pleasured each other with your hands. You had set the movie aside to focus on each other. You no longer knew what the girl on TV was doing; the only things that mattered were Sooin’s lips, the sounds she made, and how she sucked on your tongue from time to time.

With another bold move on her part, Sooin stopped masturbating. Her fingers, drenched in her own fluids, rested on your hand. Her lips distracted you from the fact that she moved your hand aside and wrapped her fingers around your member. All you could do was moan directly into her mouth as she began to masturbate you.

Her fingers, lubricated with her own fluids, felt soft against your throbbing member. Sooin masturbated you with a slow but steady rhythm, occasionally using her thumb to cares your head.

With her other hand, she took yours and guided it to her thigh, the one resting on your leg. She didn’t need to say anything to make her intentions clear. Since she was giving you pleasure, it was your duty to give it to her. It was simply an equal exchange, but it still made your back tense up. When you’d woken up in the middle of that night, you never imagined you’d end up like this with Sooin.

The flesh of her thigh molded beneath your fingers as you squeezed it, feeling the softness of her skin and the tenderness of her flesh. Little by little, you moved closer to where her legs met, to where her panties had been pulled aside to give you free access to her cunt.

The first contact of your fingers with Sooin’s juices sent you into ecstasy almost immediately. You hadn’t even touched her pussy yet, not directly, but the contours of her vulva were soaked with Sooin’s sweet nectar.

Your fingers slid deliciously along the contours of Sooin’s lips. Her pussy lips, not the ones you were kissing. She moaned louder as she sucked your tongue and you touched her. You groaned when she squeezed your cock, pumping all the way to the base and stopping there. Your fingers found her opening and stopped there too. You hesitated for a second before sliding a finger into Sooin’s vagina.

The inside of her vagina welcomed you without protest. Sooin was so wet that your finger slid easily inside her, meeting no resistance at all. With a single movement, you sank up to your knuckle inside her.

Sooin broke the kiss by pulling away from you, separating your mouths by a few centimeters so she could catch her breath. A string of saliva connected her upper lip to your lower one, making the scene a little more erotic than it already was. Two roommates masturbating each other in the living room, kissing like crazy while watching porn. A scene worthy of the very thing you were watching at that very moment: porn.

The thread of saliva connecting you broke when Sooin couldn’t help but moan the moment you slipped a second finger into her pussy. Now her walls felt closer to you, as if they were closing in with the intention of squeezing your fingers. Just like a carnivorous plant would.

But Sooin wasn’t a plant; she was flesh and blood, and even though you couldn’t believe what you were doing, it was very real. You had two fingers buried in Sooin’s wet pussy while she jerked you off, something you never expected or imagined would ever happen.

She squeezed your cock, squeezed it hard actually, as your fingers began that delicious motion, sliding in and out of her cavity. Sooin moaned with her mouth open, clinging as best she could to your throbbing cock. The position was a bit awkward, and it quickly made the muscles in your arm protest because that wasn’t the best angle for fingering someone, but the fluids soaking your fingers acted like a balm that kept you going.

Sooin lunged to kiss you, making your mouths collide once more, pressing her lips against yours and using her tongue to open your mouth. There was a sense of urgency in the movements of her lips; you could taste the hunger she was feeling. Or maybe it was something else, something like desperation to get more of you.

Suddenly and for no apparent reason, Sooin let go of your cock. You immediately missed her soft fingers wrapped around your shaft, but she didn’t give you time to think. While your lips continued to dance together, she took your hand and guided your fingers out of her. Bewildered, you broke the kiss to ask if something was wrong, but she spoke before you could.

“Take off your pants.” It wasn’t a request, nor was it an order, much less a suggestion. It was simply her desire speaking between gasps.

You jumped off the couch as if you had a spring in your ass and pulled off your pajama bottoms as fast as you could, while Sooin did the same with her panties. Now you were both naked from the waist down.

She lay back on the couch, resting her head on the armrest, legs spread wide, and looking at you hungrily. Your cock throbbed with anticipation before you climbed onto the couch, kneeling between Sooin’s legs. Her beautiful, parted thighs welcomed you and gave you a clear view of her pussy.

Sooin’s vulva was soaking wet. Her lips glistened, bathed in her own juices, parted just enough to let you see her opening. Your heart nearly stopped when you saw her like that. Seeing her pussy wet for you, slightly swollen, and waiting for your cock.

You felt the urge to dive between her legs to devour her pussy, to suck on Sooin’s beautiful clitoris. You wanted to feel her pubic hair on your forehead as you explored the depths of her pussy with your tongue. You wanted to savor your roommate’s intimate parts, to drink her nectar straight from the source. All of that would have been wonderful, but she was waiting for you with her legs spread to receive your cock, not your mouth, so you gripped your member and approached her entrance.

You rubbed your tip against her swollen lips, which earned you a sigh from Sooin. The wetness of her pussy soaked your cock and got it ready to penetrate her. With a gentle movement, you slid just the head between her lips, parting them as you went. She moaned at that slight contact; you shuddered because even though you’d only entered her a little, you could already feel Sooin’s heat enveloping your cock.

She didn’t want to wait any longer; she simply grabbed your pajamas and pulled you toward her. You did your best not to thrust all the way into her pussy, but you couldn’t help but fall on top of her and be caught by her lips. Sooin kissed you passionately, and you responded with equal fervor. As your hips drew closer to hers and more and more of your cock slid into the depths of her pussy, the hunger in Sooin’s kiss grew.

Your lips parted when she moaned louder than before. Your cock had entered her completely and was enveloped by the velvety walls of your roommate’s pussy. She was so wet that it felt like your cock was swimming in her juices. The scent of her cunt would probably linger on you, but that didn’t matter when you could be like this with her.

Even though you were constantly staring at her ass and legs, and she was fine with it, you never considered anything more with Sooin. She’s attractive and hot, but something told you that despite everything she let you see, she wasn’t interested in you. Besides, Sooin never tried to get close to you in any way other than as your friend. So if the idea of seriously flirting with her ever crossed your mind, you quickly forgot about it. Every now and then you’d say silly things to each other as a form of flirting, but it was always clear that it was just a joke, nothing more. Even with your cock deep inside her pussy and your lips dancing together in a hungry kiss, you were still aware that you were just friends.

Sooin grabbed your ass as her legs wrapped around you from behind, trapping you between her plump thighs and her vaginal walls. The wet sounds of your cock sliding in and out of her broke the silence that hung over the room. It was the middle of the night, and all you could hear were the sounds of sex.lips grinding against lips and hips slamming against hips. A symphony of harmonious moans served as an accompaniment to disrupt the tranquility of the night, and the timer on the oven where the cookies were still baking set a rhythm impossible for your thrusts to keep up with.

She moaned into your mouth, and you groaned into hers. Her restless hands left your ass and slipped under your pajamas to caress the skin on your back. This made you want to explore her body too, but it was impossible for you since you were supporting your weight with your hands so as not to rest your body on hers. It was a shame because the only parts of Sooin you’d actually managed to explore were her thigh and her pussy. Now you felt the need to caress her ass to see how firm it was and to cup her tits to feel their softness, but since she had you trapped between her legs, all you could do was keep thrusting into her. Keep fucking her while you felt her walls closing around you.

When she was jerking you off, you’d already had trouble holding back your orgasm. Her soft fingers on your sensitive cock had worked wonders, and now that you were submerged in the depths of her pussy, it was even harder to resist the urge to cum. You just wanted to let yourself go and flood Sooin’s insides with your cum, but that might be a problem.

Maybe you should have thought it through a little better before sticking your cock in her pussy. Maybe you should have run to your room to grab a condom instead of jumping on Sooin and penetrating her, but as delicious as this felt, it was worth the risk. Maybe cumming inside Sooin would serve to strengthen their friendship, just as everything they’d done tonight would.

She nibbled on your lips, licking them from time to time, which was still a surprise to you because you never imagined she was this daring and mischievous in bed. Just one more surprise among the many she was giving you tonight. But that was Sooin, all mysterious and full of surprises.

Sooin’s hand found your hair, and her fingers tangled in your locks as you pulled away from her mouth to attack her neck, causing her tongue to now explore your ear. The unexpected intrusion made you growl and nibble at Sooin’s neck; she moaned right into your ear. The sweet sounds coming from her mouth reached you directly, making your cock throb inside her.

You couldn’t hold back any longer, nor did you want to. You simply let yourself go, and with Sooin’s tongue trying to slip into your ear, your cock exploded inside her. Semen gushed from your tip, flooding your roommate’s insides, spreading its warmth throughout the depths of her cavity. She held your head tightly as her walls contracted around you. Your cock was still spitting out semen when you felt Sooin’s belly contract and her pussy milk every last drop you had. Her moans mingled with her uncontrolled gasps.

Breathing heavily and your face covered in sweat, you pressed your forehead against hers. Her deep eyes shone with a glow unknown to you, and the red of her cheeks simply highlighted the beauty of her features. You couldn’t help but kiss her, this time more gently. No biting or tongue-sucking. Hunger had been replaced by affection and gratitude, as if that were the most natural way to thank a friend for something they weren’t even sure they should be grateful for.

Lost in each other’s lips, and staring intently at one another, they heard the oven timer ringing in the distance, announcing that the cookies were ready. The sound seemed to come from another world, from a place far removed from where you were. The distance between the oven and the couch, which was no more than a few steps, seemed to have stretched out, leaving you isolated from the rest of the world. The only thing keeping you focused was your lips moving gently, and your cock still deep inside her.

You allowed yourself to kiss her neck one more time before sitting up, before pulling away from Sooin. Without taking your eyes off hers, you withdrew from inside her; a slight gasp from her marked the moment your head left her swollen lips. Looking down, you could see a single drop of your semen dripping from her opening and running between her lips. You used your thumb to wipe away that drop, causing Sooin to shudder at the touch of your finger against her delicate folds.

“Use my panties.” The least you could do was wipe the remnants of your cum and her juices from her pussy, so you took her panties and used them to clean her crotch. Being careful not to touch her too much, just to clean her, you wiped away all the fluids staining her beautiful pussy. Stupidly, you felt a sense of shame doing it, facing your friend’s freshly fucked cunt, fucked by none other than yourself.

You slowly pulled away from her, clutching her panties between your fingers. Sooin pressed her thighs together, hiding her pussy from your view, making you wonder if this would ever happen again. If one day you might get to explore more of your friend’s anatomy.

“Want some water?” you asked out of courtesy. Now that the heat and excitement of the moment were subsiding, you weren’t quite sure how to behave. That made you feel stupid; Sooin was your friend, and that’s how you should treat her.

“Yes, please.” She emphasized her answer by nodding her head. “Can you throw my panties in the washing machine?”

“Nope. I’m keeping them as a souvenir.” Of course, it was a joke, and she knew it.

“Pervert.” You both chuckled quietly as you grabbed the remote to turn off the TV. The movie had been playing the whole time and was now showing the actress on her knees with her face covered in semen. You immediately went to the washing machine to put the dirty panties in as well as your pajama bottom, and then to the kitchen to pour the glass of water you’d offered her. It was only a moment, but when you approached Sooin to hand her the glass, you got a surprise.

She was still lying on the couch, naked from the waist down, with her head resting on the armrest. Her eyes were closed while her chest rose and fell gently with her breath. One hand rested on the floor and the other was crossed over her stomach. Sooin had clearly fallen asleep the moment you turned your back on her, finally tired enough to overcome whatever had woken her up in the first place.

You watched her for a few seconds before drinking the water, which you also needed because, damn, this girl had left you exhausted. Then you went to your closet and came back with a blanket to cover Sooin. You lifted her hand to let it rest on the other and covered her as best you could, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake her.

You took the cookie that had fallen and, with it between your lips, hesitated for a moment. You decided to leave the kitchen light on in case Sooin woke up again so she wouldn’t find herself in the dark, even though dawn was actually only a few hours away.

You looked at her one more time to make sure everything was okay and went back to your room. You closed the door carefully so as not to make a sound while you finally took a bite of the cookie. It was truly delicious; Sooin had really outdone herself with this recipe.

Finally, you returned to your bed with a strange sense of calm. Sooin hadn’t told you what was tormenting her, but at least you’d helped her fall back asleep. That made you feel a little better. You left the rest of the cookie on your nightstand before turning off the light and losing yourself in your thoughts until you fell asleep as peacefully as Sooin.

A/N: I wasn't sure if I could manage to pull this but I did it. Hope I make justice to the talented Swimkim.

You know the most stupid think about this? That in my time zone and in KST is both April 12, so at the end that didn't matter at all.

[authorhjk1]

Surviving NNN

Season II

(Karina X Winter X Giselle X Ningning X Irene X Seulgi X Wendy X Joy X Yeri X Male Reader)

Surviving NNN: Part One (02.11.2025)

Surviving NNN: Part Two (09.11.2025)

Surviving NNN: Part Three (Part I X Part II) (16.11.2025)

Surviving NNN: Part Four (Part I X Part II) (23.11.2025)

Surviving NNN: Part Five (Part I X Part II)(30.11.2025)

[okaylikeschaewon]

Space

~8k words, Dating Seraphs Part 13, Series Masterlist

A sharp crack rips through the bedroom as Kazuha’s leg jerks violently, sending the bedside lamp to the floor exploding in a burst of glass.

You lift your face out of her neck, calm and mostly unbothered other than a small flinch. “Not enough space on the bed?" you tease.

“Shit, sorry,” Kazuha gasps, head snapping towards your bedside table, squinting past the blanket of darkness now engulfing the room.

“Fuck the lamp,” you mumble under your breath without even sparing a glance. “As long as you’re not hurt.”

“Too dark to tell,” she giggles so casually you could almost forget that you’re two knuckles deep inside her.

“Just try not to bleed on my sheets. Or do, if you want. I don’t mind,” you yank her face and turn her back towards you, staring directly at the tiniest reflection of the outside sunset in her eyes as you plunge a second finger into her soaked pussy. You curl them up, grazing the exact same part of her that just sent her leg spasming a moment ago.

“Yes,” Kazuha breathes instinctually, eyes fluttering closed, teeth digging into her lower lip. “Right there, right fucking there–”

Her body arches up against you, bowing off the mattress, and you press your mouth into her neck again, sucking gently to contrast the very not-gentle pace of your fingers.

You pick up the tempo some more, fucking her soaked pussy harder, faster, deeper. Each thrust followed by the wet slap of your palm grazing her clit, overwhelming the adorable little whimpers she’s trying so desperately to hold back. You curl your knuckles into her a bit more, fighting against the vice-like clamp as her pussy squeezes into you.

Kazuha’s thighs snap tight around your wrist, locking it in place. Her whole body shakes around you, violent and warm. Her hips jerk up, then to the side, desperately chasing reprieve from your fingers while also silently begging for more.

You don’t let up. You fight right past her toned thighs, grinding your fingers firmly against the inside of her soft pussy, exactly where she feels it most. Nothing can stop you, not now that you can see the face Kazuha is making; She’s entering a whole new universe.

The broken cries, the little ‘fuck’s and ‘please’s, they mean nothing more than a plea to keep going. She’s completely losing it, you’re watching her brain turn to mush in real time – and you’re loving every second.

Her hips jerk forward one more time before her legs fly apart. Her knees whip so fast they nearly slam into your jaw, missing you by mere inches, leaving you smiling ear to ear and heart racing.

Then, her voice cracks as a sharp scream rips out of her lungs. The noise, one you’ve never heard Kazuha make before, echoes off the walls of your bedroom while her body seizes.

A sudden little squirt of warmth gushes into your palm. Kazuha doesn’t even notice, and you don’t even care. You keep thrusting, letting Kazuha’s slick drip off your wrist, soiling the bedsheets below.

Another chain of whimpers spill out of her lips before her body tenses up against your fingers. You feel every muscle inside her pussy go rigid, clamping down on you, releasing these little rhythmic pulses that feel so, so lovely against your fingers.

Then, instead of pulling back, you keep your hand buried deep inside her. You adjust your wrist so that your palm presses down on her clit, drawing wet little circles against it. You keep your movements gentle, slower and more controlled, hyper-aware of every little twitch and squirm; the goal isn’t to overwhelm, rather, to enjoy.

The next wave hits equally as hard if not more. Her hips jerk forward, slipping your fingers in deeper. Her thighs close slowly, clenching against your wrist, quaking around you. Not too tight, just firm enough to lock you in place. Another gush of slick spills out of her.

Her eyes clench harder than ever and her head rolls all the way back, exposing her neck. You take the opportunity to dive in deeper, kissing along her jaw carefully.

You ease up the pressure gradually. Fingers still buried deep, stroking the inside of her pussy calmly, you casually coax a few more little pulses out of her, holding her in that hazy trance for a bit longer.

Everything is absolutely drenched by now. Your fingers are slipping with no difficulty at all, yet she’s still tight as ever. You can feel each little pulse, each blissful aftershock that her pussy gives.

Your lips brush past her chin and you press them gently against her open mouth. You let your fingers slip out of her naturally and you rest them right below her clit.

As she moans into your mouth, you ease up the pressure. You give her another gentle kiss on the lips before sliding down off the side of the bed, right between Kazuha’s legs. Your thumb grazes her clit, light as possible, and her legs shudder violently.

“Too much?” you murmur, breath hitting her pussy, before pressing your mouth to the inside of her thigh.

She doesn’t answer, she’s too focused on fixing her breathing. From your knees, you can see Kazuha’s chest heaving up and down, lungs expanding to their absolute limit.

You continue planting kisses along her thighs, alternating every few, inching closer towards the glistening mess between her legs. You gently press on her thighs, spreading them a bit wider before giving her body a small tug towards you.

Your hands hook under her knees and lift, guiding her thighs over your shoulders so that her legs drape against your back. Then, you slide your hands up her body towards her hips before reaching around until you find her hands clutching the sheets tightly.

She picks up on what you want, releasing the sheets, and she laces your fingers with hers, palms flat together. She gives you a little acknowledging squeeze, the green light to go ahead.

So you do just that.

Starting with the slowest, softest lick you can muster. You press your tongue flat against the outer edge of her pussy, easing it up her folds, collecting the mix of slick and sweat pooled up on her smooth skin.

You ignore the little whimper that comes out of her lips as you bring your face back down, this time working the other side. You let that salty tanginess engulf your mind as her slick spills down your chin. This time, you let your tongue linger near her clit, prodding it as lightly as you can.

Kazuha’s breath catches in her throat, and her thighs jerk against your face as she starts whimpering. And when you press your lips down against her clit again, she squeals out, she crushes your fingers with her own, but she doesn’t pull away.

While you’re busy teasing her clit with delicate strokes of your tongue, you feel another warm squirt. Without a second thought, you quickly drop your face lower, collecting every drop onto your tongue before it’s wasted – the taste is fucking addicting. You press your mouth flat against her pussy, sucking softly, applying far more pressure than the delicate licks from before.

Kazuha gasps hard, hips bucking against your face, grip on your fingers faltering. Her pussy vibrates against your mouth uncontrollably while you hold steady, enjoying just how much she is at your mercy.

Then, as carefully as you can, you ease your tongue forward. Her pussy stretches open slowly as your tongue enters the wetness, engulfed in her warm squeeze.

Her hips jerk again, but it’s less violent. She’s finally able to catch her breath, but now each breath is deep and calculated. Her body reacts to each movement as you edge your tongue deeper, burying it as far as it can go inside her pussy.

You hold for a moment. You can feel every wave, every pulse, every little twitch. Addictive doesn’t do it justice. You give her a few small licks, entirely overwhelmed by the taste now.

Each lick is more audacious than the last, and at this point you’re basically fucking her with your tongue. You ease back almost all the way out before sliding back in, relishing in the rhythmic little squeezes of her pussy.

After giving her one final lick as deep as you can physically go, you slowly ease your tongue out of her. You quickly lap up anything that spills out with you, making sure not to miss a single drop. You give her one final kiss, right below her clit, before carefully lifting her thighs off your shoulders.

Kazuha turns to her side as you climb onto the bed next to her. She’s resting her head in her hand, a twinkle in her eyes, face flushed. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

You wipe a bead of sweat off her forehead and tuck her hair behind her ear. “Good, we’re just getting started.”

“I don’t know how much more of that I can take,” Kazuha laughs, shining with a lovely afterglow. “That was a lot… like, almost too much.”

“Almost? Great, that means you’re not done, let's go,” you crawl to the middle of the bed and lay flat on your back. “Get up.”

She shoots you a confused yet curious look.

“What?” she bites her lip nervously.

“Right on my face, like I’m your toy,” you stretch your neck side to side. “Come on sweetheart, my face is getting cold.”

Her eyes widen. “Seriously?”

You lift your head just enough from the mattress to make eye contact. “Does it look like I’m kidding? Let’s go.”

“But I’ve never… I don’t know how.”

“You also said you didn’t know how to cook, but you did just fine with those steaks earlier,” you offer a kind smile and it seems to work.

“Fuck… okay,” she sits up straight, thighs still trembling. “Okay, I got this.”

“Don’t overthink it, if you can help it.”

She nods once, determination in her eyes.

You let your head drop back, shoulders sinking into the sheets, body relaxed. It’s impossible to stop your smile, the anticipation is eating away at you – as if you haven’t already spent the last half an hour working Kazuha’s pussy.

“I’ve never… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You couldn’t hurt me if you tried,” you reach over and guide her body into position so that she’s right above you. “That’s not a challenge, by the way. I enjoy breathing and being alive.”

She giggles softly, holding herself up above your face and slowly rubbing herself; It’s obvious she’s nervous. You’re patient though, ignoring the fact that you’re literally drooling at the sight of Kazuha’s wet pussy above you.

“What am I supposed to do, exactly?”

“Whatever you want,” you chuckle, unbothered. “Move your hips, sit still, I don’t really care. Just keep yourself glued to my mouth until you can’t anymore.”

“How will you breathe?” Kazuha’s brows angle up with concern.

“I won’t,” you shrug. “Zuha, suffocate me. If I die, I die.”

“I thought you liked being alive?” she giggles as she slowly lowers herself. “Please slap my thigh or something if you’re about to pass out.”

“No,” you crane your neck and stick out your tongue, prodding her folds as far as you can reach. When she finally lowers all the way, you let your head fall.

The initial contact is overwhelmingly warm. You weren’t expecting it to feel so… intimate.

It’s not even like you haven’t had your mouth pressed to Kazuha’s pussy before; you’ve been doing exactly that all night, but something about her being on top just feels so much more incandescent in your brain. All of her body weight rests on your chin, like a weighted blanket, calming your mind while making your head spin at the same time.

Your mouth naturally opens, sucking in everything she has to offer. She’s already so slick that you nearly choke. She tastes sharp, but it’s almost sweet in a way: A little bit tangy, a little bit salty, overwhelming in the best way possible. You honestly can’t make much sense of the taste, all you know is you want – need – it.

She’s not even moving yet, just letting her pussy mold to your face. Her weight pushes you deeper into the mattress until you can’t move at all, and each little shift of her body sends vibrations through you.

Just like that, your world goes completely blank, engulfed by Kazuha’s pussy.

Exactly the way you like it.

—

“I should probably let you know, I don’t really know how to cook,” Kazuha giggles, pulling her mask up high before interlocking arms with you.

Of course she’d wait until you’re at the grocery store to mention it for the first time.

Oh well… just seeing her skipping along excitedly makes it all worth it. You grab a basket before letting Kazuha tug you in the complete opposite direction of where you actually need to go, because that’s just how she does things.

“Hey, look,” she picks up a small box. “Same one I use.”

“Too bad we can’t eat a face mask.”

She lets out a small laugh, the way she always does, the way that pumps serotonin directly into your brain.

“Have you used one before?” she asks, reading the back of the packaging.

“Once or twice, I think.”

“Great,” Kazuha tosses two into the basket. “We’ll do it together.”

“Sure, I’d let you put anything on my face,” you shrug, struggling to hide how much you love seeing Kazuha this excited.

The truth is, Kazuha is always excited – for anything and everything; It’s quite infectious. Even now, as she’s about to start walking towards an aisle full of perfumes and shampoo, it almost hurts you to yank her in the opposite direction, back towards the reason you guys are even in here.

However, she doesn’t care. She’s just excited to walk through the aisle of vegetables as she was in the cosmetics section, a little bundle of joy no matter where she is. She picks up a small pack of carrots, reads the label for some reason, and happily sets it back down. There isn’t much rhyme or reason to it, she’s just happy to be here, even if it means picking up some asparagus.

“Oh, that’s an idea,” you accept the vegetable from her hands. “We could do steaks.”

“I love steak!” she quickly tosses another bundle into the basket.

“Then it’s settled,” you place your hand on her back, guiding her down the aisle before she can pick up more asparagus. “We’ll need some stuff for sides.”

“I think we have butter at the dorm.”

You laugh, perhaps a bit too hard. “My favorite side, butter.”

“I meant for cooking,” Kazuha nudges you in the ribs.

“That’s lovely,” you rub the spot where her elbow landed. “Do you also have some pans? Maybe some knives?”

Kazuha, completely indifferent to the teasing, has already rushed ahead. She picks up the biggest sack of potatoes available and turns to you, a bright smile on her face.

“Perhaps a smaller bag?” you take it from her struggling hands and set it aside, and by the time you’ve placed a more reasonable amount of potatoes into the basket, Kazuha is once again rushing ahead.

“Oh look, oranges,” she calls over her shoulder. “Should we just get the case?”

“I think I should have grabbed a cart,” you place your hand on Kazuha’s lower back and walk her away from the oranges, keeping her next to you.

She looks confused for a whole two seconds – as if she can’t fathom why you’re not buying a whole case of oranges – but then she starts smiling under her mask as her eyes set on the meat section. The two of you walk down the aisle, admiring the various cuts of steak.

“Any preference?” you stop in front of the ribeyes and sirloins.

“I don’t really know the difference,” Kazuha admits, picking up one of the packs. Oddly enough, she managed to select a lovely one – probably by chance, but lovely nonetheless.

“Different parts of the cow,” you sift through the ribeyes until you find some that you’re happy with. “Do the members have any preference?”

Kazuha hands you the pack and shrugs. “Maybe?”

“Lets just get both,” you chuckle, adding ribeyes as well. “Alright, I think we got everything we need for dinner. Steaks, potatoes, veg’, Kazuha–”

“Kazuha?” she giggles, latching onto your arm as the two of you head towards the checkout. “And which part of the menu am I, exactly?”

“Dessert, of course,” you answer without missing a beat. “Warm, sweet, moist…”

“People can hear you,” she whispers, leaning in a bit closer.

“I’ll announce it on the intercom, I don’t care.”

“You wouldn’t– Oh!” she suddenly lets go of your arm and runs off.

“What–” you stop in your tracks, mouth hanging in disbelief as Kazuha picks up a loaf of bread.

She turns around, holding it proudly in both arms like a baby. The body language is loud, you can almost sense just how excited she is over a simple loaf of bread. Did you have any plans for a loaf of bread? Not really, but that doesn’t matter. You obviously weren’t going to deny Kazuha of her true love, bread.

So, you place everything down for the cashier to scan. Kazuha’s already browsing again, grabbing a couple of little candies and adding them to the haul. Only once the final item is scanned she stops browsing and joins you.

“I got it,” Kazuha reaches for her wallet.

You bat her arm aside lightly, chuckling at the audacity before holding your own card up to the reader. It beeps and while the clerk prints the receipt, Kazuha stares at you. Even with the mask, you can tell she’s pouting – it’s painfully cute.

“Don’t be silly,” you ignore the eyes and pick up the grocery bag. “Come on.”

—

“I guess we’ll leave these in the fridge?”

“It’s not my fault,” Kazuha flips over the steak and continues salting all sides. “No one told me they had plans.”

“Maybe if you’d check your phone,” Sakura chimes in from the living room. “Seems you were… preoccupied.”

Kazuha shoots you a sly glance over her shoulder, cheeks faintly pink and fully aware that Sakura knows why she missed the message.

In your defense, Kazuha was the one who initiated. You weren’t going to stop her if she felt like making out in your car – obviously – but it’s still her fault. With how far down her throat your tongue ended up, you’re not at all surprised that she missed a few texts.

That being said, you aren’t going to pass up on the opportunity to tease her.

You quickly step in close and slide your hand down her lower back until it rests on her ass. You pull back just a few inches before giving her a playful smack on the cheek, sending her whole body lurching forward. The kitchen walls echo the sound honestly a bit louder than you had intended.

Kazuha spins around and reaches around you in hopes of enacting her revenge, but you easily anticipate her move and end up tossing her over your shoulder. She shrieks out in laughter as you relentlessly attack her butt with a barrage of playful smacks.

As you’re spinning around the kitchen, bumping into every countertop that exists, you see Sakura standing there with her arms crossed and a smile on her lips.

“Oh please, don’t stop on my account,” Sakura giggles, stepping across the kitchen. Before opening the fridge, Sakura joins in and gives Kazuha a quick slap on the ass, leaving the girl protesting until you lower her off your shoulder.

“Two on one is not fair!” Kazuha huffs, catching her breath, slumping down to the floor.

You hold both hands out, palms up, and smile down at her. She glares up at you for a whole two seconds before her demeanor drops and she smiles up at you, accepting your hands. You pull her up to her feet and give her a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll switch teams and join you,” Sakura pats the girl on her shoulder before taking a look at the steaks. “These look nice.”

“Zuha’s making them, right?” you wrap your arm around Kazuha’s waist.

“Mhmm,” she agrees while turning on the gas.

“Then I’m definitely joining Zuha’s team.”

“Sounds like I’ll be having my hands full tonight.”

“Ew!” Sakura punches you on the arm.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you shield yourself from a second punch. “Unless…”

“Zuha, control your man,” Sakura tries – and fails – to hide her smile.

“Huh?” Kazuha looks up from the pan where a few drops of water fizzle out. “Sorry, I’m trying to remember the video. You’re joining us at his place after? Fine with me, we can watch a movie or something.”

“‘Movie’?” Sakura repeats with a little chuckle as she grabs Kazuha’s wrist, stopping her from placing the steak in the pan. “It’s not hot enough yet, give it a second.”

“Or something,” you let go of Kazuha’s waist and look at Sakura.

She raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t respond.

“Alright, sear both sides, put everything in, cook in the butter,” Kazuha mumbles under her breath as she stares at the pan.

“It’s really not that scary,” you reach around her and wet your fingers at the tap, flicking a few drops of water onto the pan and letting them dance around before taking a gentle hold of Kazuha’s waist from behind again. “It’s ready, away from your body please.”

Kazuha nods, picking up the first steak and holding it over the pan. She starts lowering it carefully, pausing for a moment as the pan sizzles. Then, after she feels you give her an encouraging little squeeze, she lowers the steak, dropping it right at the end and splashing a bit of hot oil.

“It’s kinda scary,” she turns her head, smiling as you give her another quick peck on the cheek.

Sakura picks up the tongs and presses down on the steak, evening out the sear. “Next time, try not splashing oil everywhere,” Sakura chuckles, handing the tongs to Kazuha. “Flip when it’s ready.”

“How will I know?” Kazuha takes the tongs and nervously stares down at the sizzling steak. “What if it’s burning?”

“It’s not, and you’ll know,” you rest your chin on her shoulder. “And if you fuck it up, we have extras now.”

Not much is said between the three of you after that.

Kazuha’s focused now, brows ever so slightly furrowed as she stares at the meat. She’s gripping the tongs to the point of her knuckles turning pale white, but neither you nor Sakura mention it.

She eventually goes for the first flip, hesitantly peeking underneath – even crouching down to eye-level – before taking in a deep breath and giving it a flip. She quickly looks back over her shoulder at you.

While reaching around her body and guiding the tongs to the steak, pressing again to even the sear, you give her a tiny nod of encouragement.

While the sear isn’t ‘perfect’, it’s pretty decent – good enough to force a tiny, proud smile on Sakura’s lips.

Kazuha gives it some time to develop that perfect crust before reaching for the butter. She places a knob, along with some garlic and thyme, into the pan and quickly starts basting the steak.

While it’s not the most difficult of techniques, she looks like a professional. You and Sakura exchange glances, both of you impressed at how quickly Kazuha went from lost puppy to somewhat confident.

Once satisfied with the feel of the steak, using the finger method to test for readiness, Kazuha lifts the steak out of the pan and sets it on the cutting board. She turns around, wipes her forehead quickly and smiles.

“It looks good, I think,” she says shyly.

You step up and kiss her briefly. “It looks amazing, honestly.”

“I gotta agree,” Sakura adds, still smiling. “Maybe you can take over the cooking duties from now on.”

Kazuha giggles, cheeks ever so slightly rosy pink. She’s clearly proud of her work. “Alright, two more,” she breathes in. “Or should we let this one rest first and check before starting the others?”

“Nah, I trust you,” Sakura shakes her head. “I’ll make the sides while you finish up the steaks.”

Kazuha turns to you, suddenly nervous again.

“I agree with Sakura,” you lean in and kiss Kazuha on the forehead again. “You make the steaks, she’ll make the sides, and I’ll just happily hold onto you.”

—

“Genuinely so much better than I expected,” you sigh, setting down your fork.

“That feels a bit backhanded,” Kazuha giggles, taking a small sip of wine. “Kkura unnie did well, too.”

Sakura hums softly, pleased with the meal, even more pleased with the third glass of wine she’s working on.

“Alright, I’m gonna quickly freshen up before we…” Kazuha shoots you a glance.

Sakura looks at you, then at Kazuha, and then back to you before a subtle sadness washes over her wine-tinted cheeks. “Oh, right, the ‘movie’.”

“Yeah,” you reply before realizing Sakura’s disappointment. “Oh, but you’re welcome to join, if you’d like.”

Kazuha raises an eyebrow for a split second before playing along. “Right, you’re more than welcome,” she leans down and kisses Sakura on the cheek. “I’ll be right back!”

She runs off, leaving you completely stunned. Kazuha just casually kissed Sakura, and the older girl didn’t even flinch. The air between you is incredibly awkward as Sakura finishes the rest of her wine and avoids your gaze.

“You, umm…” your voice catches in your throat, leaving Sakura cocking an eyebrow in your direction.

“What?” she’s direct, almost impatient even.

“It really suits you, the new hair,” you say, unsure why you’re suddenly nervous. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since the change, just haven’t had the chance to tell you, I guess.”

“Oh,” her hand immediately moves and she runs her fingers through the cherry strands. “It’s messy right now, I haven’t even styled it or anything–”

You stand up from the table and start collecting the plates. “Still, I like it,” you shrug, walking over to the kitchen.

Sakura joins right behind you, bringing the rest of the dishes. The two of you stack everything into the sink and Sakura stands in front of it for a few seconds before spinning on her heels to face you.

“What do you mean when you say you like it?”

“Don’t think too hard about it, I just think it looks nice on you.”

“Why would you even say anything if you didn’t mean it?” Sakura turns back to the sink and starts stacking the plates.

“The fuck?” you step forward and grab her wrist, turning her towards you again. “What’s that all about? I’m not lying, I think it suits you.”

“Is this Zuha’s idea?”

You let go of her wrist and step back. “Is what her idea? Complimenting your hair?”

“It’s probably yours,” she shakes her head, arms crossed over her chest. “You’re not slick.”

“Did Zuha secretly add meth to your steak without telling me?”

“Come on, I know what you two are about to do. I’m not an idiot.”

You let out a puff of air. “Oh, well, we weren’t trying to be discreet. It just felt a bit crass to straight up say ‘hey, dinner was fun, now Zuha and I are gonna head back to my place and fuck’, forgive me for being considerate.”

“Were you also just being considerate when you invited me, or was that for real?”

“Oh… that’s what you’re referring to–”

“Yeah no shit,” she uncrosses her arms and places her hands on her hips. “What else would I be talking about?”

“I don’t know… I thought you didn’t believe I liked your hair or something,” you internally cringe at your own idiocy before the words even come out. “In hindsight, it’s pretty obvious now…”

“No shit,” she scoffs, tapping her foot. “So?”

“I mean… it was kind of a joke–”

“Kind of?” she raises her eyebrows. “You ‘kind of’ want to have sex with me?”

She’s definitely much more bold when she has some alcohol in her.

Then again, so are you.

“I misspoke, I don’t just ‘kind of’ want to have sex with you. I want to fuck your brains out like I used to do every night.”

Her eyes, always so big and expression, shoot open larger than you’ve ever seen before.

“B-But… Zuha… Chaewon…”

“You heard Zuha, she seems open to it,” you step closer to her. “And we both know Chaewon’s not opposed.”

Sakura stares into your eyes, struggling to make sense of the thoughts in her head.

“I…” she starts in a whisper before the two of you hear a set of footsteps.

You quickly take a step back as Kazuha enters the kitchen with a thin jacket over her shoulders.

“Ready?” she asks excitedly. “Is Kkura joining?”

“No,” Sakura quickly steps past you and gives Kazuha a hug. “I’m going to chug water and pass out, have fun tonight.”

“Alright,” Kazuha hugs her back before smiling at you. “Let’s go?”

—

“Hey, Zuha, relax,” you slide over right next to her and carefully roll onto your side. Your hand reaches up towards her cheek, lightly pressing until she’s facing you. “Don’t worry about it, just breathe,” you instruct softly, pacing your own breaths as a guide.

After a couple of rapid breaths, Kazuha inhales deeply through her nose, holding it for a second before slowly breathing out through her mouth.

“That’s better,” you offer a kind smile and slide your hand down from her face until it grazes her shoulder. “In… hold… and out.”

“I’m sorry, I was just so close–”

“Nuh uh,” you hush her gently and slide your hand to her chest, feeling each deep breath. “You’re doing so well, really. I fucking loved that.”

“Did you?” her lips curl into a little smile and her eyes soften before you. The stress washes away, leaving Kazuha wearing an affectionate expression, cheeks flushed red and skin slick from her sweat.

“Absolutely, my world was just you, what else could I ask for?”

“Air, maybe?” she giggles, cheeks rosy red.

“Did it feel nice?” you sit up and maneuver yourself between Kazuha’s legs again, spreading them gently.

She props herself up on her elbows and looks down at you. “Well, yeah, but–”

“It was your first time riding my face, you’re still learning.”

“‘Learning’, you say it like we’re in class,” Kazuha giggles.

“And now it’s time for me to study,” you lay down flat on your stomach and flash her a smile. “Lean back, close your eyes if you want. Or don’t, do literally whatever feels right.”

As she flattens her body and bends her knees for you, you press her thighs apart some more, leaning in, taking a moment to admire how slick she is. Your breath barely grazes her and she shudders. Perfect, she’s still close.

“If it’s too much, either say something or kick me in the face. Otherwise, just try to let your mind wander and take you where you feel like going.”

“I’ll try not to break another lamp,” she giggles before taking in a deep breath and going silent.

You carefully hook your legs under her thighs, fully aware that she won’t be keeping her legs up like this for long. Then, you move as close to Kazuha’s pussy as physically possible without touching it.

For just a couple of seconds, you hold. You let her warmth hit your face. Her aroma, all the pheromones, you let them engulf your mind. It’s intoxicating, Kazuha’s pussy, she has you drooling just by existing.

Then, you lean in for a quick kiss.

Her thighs immediately buckle against your head.

Your tongue presses flat against her pussy for a beat before you trace a curve down the side of her pussy. You ignore her gasp and sweep your tongue upwards in a straight line. Another breath comes out of her and you immediately bring your tongue down, drawing a small arch now.

A breathy ‘oh fuck’ slips out and her back arches. Her fingers latch onto your hair, but she’s too distracted to do much with it.

You ignore the smile on your lips – there’s no time to think. Your tongue draws a circle, grazing her clit in the process before leaving her pussy with a subtle downstroke.

Kazuha finally moans out freely, giving up on her attempt to hold back, and her fingers give you a small tug. “Please,” her thighs lose strength, resting on your arms just as you predicted they would.

The only break you give her is to press your lips directly against her entrance, sucking up her slick directly. Then, you get right back to the shapes, starting at the top and sliding your tongue down her folds. You flick it up against her clit, earning you a loud shriek, then you slide back down.

As you press your tongue flat to Kazuha’s skin, rolling it up the side of her pussy, her moans turn to whimpers. They’re music to your ears, it’s difficult to imagine a more beautiful sound – feminine, visceral, and so fucking desperate.

Your tongue keeps working the routine, starting at her clit and drawing a little circle around her pussy. Her entire body jerks and you feel a wave of warmth flood your mouth.

There it is.

You repeat the motion, making sure to pause for an extra split second at her clit to let a fresh gush of her slick spill directly into your open mouth. You draw one last circle, ignoring her thighs clamping tight around your head.

“Fuck… too much…” she whimpers, pussy still spilling directly against your face, legs trembling, hand tugging your hair.

The final motion is another little arch, lapping up as much of her wetness as physically possible before you finally lift your head.

A final, passionate cry escapes her lips before she rolls onto her side, legs clamped tight, knees drawn to her chest.

After giving her as much time as she needs to compose herself, you reach over and wipe a bead of sweat off her forehead. “You good?”

She turns to you and nods. “More than good,” an exhausted smile tugs at her mouth. “My whole body feels like it’s on fire… in a good way. Like, a good fire, a good warmth, I don’t know if that makes sense,” her eyes briefly flick away from you.

“Don’t worry, it does,” you smile kindly.

Then, suddenly, her tone shifts. “I just can’t help but think about how Chaewon would feel if she…” her voice trails off and she lets out a small, nervous laugh.

“I’m…” you hesitate, suddenly being reminded of Chaewon definitely shook you up – but you’re not stupid enough to let Kazuha see. “You’re so amazing, Zuha.”

Her smile brightens for a second before her expression settles back down. She stares at you for a moment, studying you as your face starts burning hot. Then, subtly, she pulls the sheets over her chest.

“Cold?” you lift yourself up slightly off the bed. “I can turn the heat up if you’d like.”

“No, it’s fine,” she mumbles far quieter than anything she has said tonight.

“Zuha?” you say quietly, worried she read your face a bit too well.

“I probably shouldn’t stay the night,” she rolls onto her back and stares up at the roof. “Mind giving me just a couple of minutes before taking me back?”

“Oh, umm, alright,” you awkwardly roll onto your back as well.

In the corner of your eye, you can’t help but notice something is bothering her. Everything was going so well, what could it possibly be? Why, all of a sudden, does she seem a bit out of it? Is she just tired? Did she pick up on your unease? Is it because of Chaewon?

“Is…” you start and then close your mouth before finishing your thought.

However, Kazuha doesn’t save you from your thoughts. She simply lays there, taking in deep breaths. Then, after a painfully awkward minute, she hops out of the bed and reaches for her clothes.

You’re at a loss for words now, so you also get dressed in silence, sparing as many glances over at Kazuha as you can without fully staring. Once fully dressed, Kazuha finally turns your way.

She’s smiling – tired, clearly, but smiling nonetheless. “Everything about tonight has been amazing, I just don’t know if I’m ready to spend the night,” she admits softly. “I think I have some stuff I need to think about…”

“I understand,” you step up to her and carefully caress her cheek. “Don’t stress it, I think that’s completely fair.”

She nods once, pursing her lips before turning on her heels and walking towards the door.

Your mind is still racing, trying to work in overdrive in case you missed anything. However, it doesn’t last long, and suddenly you find yourself completely mesmerized by the subtle sway of Kazuha’s hips.

It really is that easy for your mind to lose track of everything.

You give your head a shake, wiping your thoughts clear of the fact that you just spent all evening with your face between those perfect legs.

—

The drive back to the dorms is eerily quiet, but it feels less due to awkwardness and more just general fatigue. You don’t mind it, for the most part – especially when Kazuha quietly rests her hand on the center console, palm up.

Without looking beyond what you see in your periphery, you casually place your hand on top of hers to test the waters. To your pleasant surprise – even though she was obviously inviting it – she immediately curls her fingers against yours.

Just like that, the quiet drive feels infinitely more intimate through the empty streets. The moon lights Kazuha’s face, leaving her glowing and her beauty impossible to ignore – but you’re embarrassingly too shy to face her fully, using the guise of being a focused driver as your internal excuse.

As you pull up to the dorms and park, the two of you step out of your car. You walk with Kazuha up to the door; She stays close, as if seeking comfort. You both step into the dorm, and Kazuha turns to you.

She flashes an awkward smile, clearly unsure what she should say even though you’re patiently waiting. Then, as soon as you open your mouth to speak, she leans in and gives you a kiss.

You’re taken aback, but you quickly adjust by leaning into it, wrapping your arms around her. She does the same, her lips crashing gently repeatedly against yours until she has her fill.

“Goodnight,” she whispers, mere inches away from your face, words breathy.

“Night, Zuha,” you whisper back, “I’ll text you in the morning.”

She leans in and gives you one final kiss – very quickly – before walking away and leaving you standing there. You lean against the wall and close your eyes, taking in everything that happened tonight, somewhat unsure how to feel about the ending.

Suddenly, a quiet voice speaks through the darkness and makes every single hair on your body stand up straight.

“Holy fucking–” you gasp, eyes shooting open and turning to the sound. “Chaewon? What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” she walks a bit closer.

“I meant like, why are you awake?” you chuckle.

“Good question,” she steps up right in front of you. “How was your night with Zuha?”

“Chae…”

“I’ve been thinking,” she continues before you can answer. “Maybe I’m being a little bit selfish.”

Your heart sinks, realizing the gravity of this conversation and just how quickly it’s going to go. You’re not getting any casual small talk or banter, not tonight.

Within seconds, you take in her expression, demeanor, everything. Any bit of body language she offers, you latch on, worried about the tone she’s speaking in. Your heart’s already racing, and Kazuha has already left your mind – right now it’s only Chaewon.

“I think you’ve been the opposite of selfish, all things considered."

“No, seriously,” she walks off towards the kitchen as you follow. “I make you do it, then I hate that you do it, and then I hate that I hate that you did it. I just don’t understand how I’m supposed to figure anything out.”

“And you think the answer is next to the mugs?” you join her in the kitchen and lean against the counter.

Her shoulders drop and she flashes a tired smile at you. “I was going to text you tomorrow and see if you were open to the idea, but since you’re here now…”

“What idea?”

“I was wondering if you would be open to going on a quick trip, away from here. Just while I figure things out.”

“So the mugs are telling you I need to disappear?”

“I think the answer is just time,” she says softly, closing the cabinet and facing you properly. “Like, maybe we just need to take a little bit of time apart.”

“Apart? What?”

“Not like a breakup, I just mean like time to think about what we want without the distractions.”

“And to be clear,” you say slowly. “The distraction in this situation is me?”

“In a way,” she laughs. “Hear me out, Yunjin is going to New York for a few days and none of the members have time to join her. I was thinking… what if you go with her?”

“Sorry, what?” you blink, entirely confused. “You’re being serious? This trip thing isn’t a joke?”

“Be Yunjin’s chaperone, make sure she has a good time in New York. Our body guards are fun, but it’s difficult for them to keep their intimidating demeanors if they’re wearing latte mustaches with her.”

“So while you’re here with no idea how to navigate your feelings, I’m supposed to be taking Yunjin on a date in the city that never sleeps?”

“You’re allowed to sleep.”

You raise an eyebrow at her.

“That’s not what I meant,” Chaewon rolls her eyes. “But, I mean, if you really want–”

“Oh my God, stop,” you step up to her and place your hands on her hips. “We’ll get two beds.”

It’s Chaewon’s turn to give you a look. “Two beds? In the same room?”

Oops.

Chaewon slaps your hands away and marches back to the living room. “Sure, share the same room, maybe you can share the same shower while you’re at it,” she says without turning back.

“We’ll get separate rooms!” you chase after her, amused by her obviously playful tone.

She stops at the base of the stairs and turns around.

“Go to New York with her,” she says, bluntly but still lighthearted. “You two can explore the city, each other, I don’t care. Have fun.”

“The hell do you mean you don’t care…”

She leans back and hits her head against the wall, staring up at the roof for a second as if it had the solution to her predicament. Then, she looks back down at you. “Look, I thought I was fine with it… I’m the one who suggested it and set it up,” she starts, voice completely void of playfulness now, brimming with real emotion. “With Zuha… I just thought… I don’t think this…”

“Are you…” you hesitate for a second and take a breath. “Are you saying–”

“I just need a little time,” she says, quietly. “I think distance will help.”

Your heart sinks even further – a sickening drop right into your gut. Suddenly, you feel sick. The girl – your girl – standing in front of you asking for space for the first time ever. It feels like your chest is about to cave in, hollowed by her words.

And it’s real. You know her well enough now to see when she’s playing around and when she’s serious. This isn’t a joke… this might be–

“I still love you,” she adds almost so softly you don’t even hear it over your thumping veins. “That hasn’t changed, and it won’t change. I just think we need a short break…”

Coming up with words is impossible. Your throat feels tight, locked up. Blaming yourself surely isn’t the answer, but you don’t know what else you can do.

You’ve never taken a ‘break’ from Chaewon before. It’s just not something you do, nor is it something you want. Not from Chaewon, not the girl you’ve dedicated it all for.

“What–” you try and fail, freezing up as your only defense to stop yourself from breaking down. You can’t, not right now, not when you see Chaewon’s lower lip tremble – she’s on the verge, just like you, and you can’t be the reason the tears start flowing.

“I’ll still be here when you come back,” Chaewon mumbles, each syllable shaking. “We’ll talk, we’ll figure it out, this isn’t the end. We’ve survived worse, we’ll make it through this, I’m certain.”

She’s lying.

She steps forward and before you know it, she’s in your embrace. Her arms are tight, locking you in place.

“It’s just a few days,” her words are muffled but you can hear the struggle.

“A few days,” you agree, hands pressed firmly against her back. “Any time of day, you can call me, text me, anything.”

“I know,” Chaewon sniffles, “but that’s not how space works.”

You let go of her, catching her expression and her crimson eyes for a split second before she turns and frantically wipes her face.

“The flight’s tomorrow,” Chaewon says, still facing away from you. “Don’t worry about details, we’ll figure that out, just get packed.”

You stare at the back of her head, hearing her words just barely over the ringing in your ears, just now realizing the idea to send you away didn’t form in the last five minutes.

“And don’t… I’m going to be busy tomorrow, so I won’t see you…” Chaewon adds, her hands flying up to her face again.

A beat passes, giving her time to compose herself before you reply. “Then I guess this is… goodbye?”

Chaewon’s body freezes. Nothing moves other than the faint rise and fall of her shoulders with each unsteady breath. She turns her head to the side, not all the way to see you but enough for you to see the remnant of her tears on her side-profile.

“I love you.”

It feels like a shard of glass, stabbing you right in the chest. Before you can reply – before you can even think – she runs up the stairs, leaving you standing at the base. You hear the sound of her door clicking shut upstairs.

Feeling more alone than you have ever felt in your life, you stay still. Heart thumping in your ears, your mind keeps repeating those last three words, convincing yourself that this won’t be the last time you hear them.

---

A/N:

Uh, this chapter got delayed a LOT. Sorry. I've really been struggling with it, and I can't say I'm 1000% happy with how it turned out. That being said, I'd love for the next few chapters to be focused on DATING the members (and sex, of course). I'm not throwing away all the drama and tension, I'm just going to tone it back a tiny bit and play with emotions that aren't just depressing.

LIKE ALWAYS, THANK YOU GUYS FOR BEING SO PATIENT. I always appreciate the feedback you guys send me, be it positive or constructive. I'm going to get working on some C2A chapters next, maybe even focus on it for a bit because I got some big plans and need to keep things rolling so that I don't forget and add too many loopholes.

[jupiterpilgrim]

An Interlude for Tea

Kim Minjeong (Winter) x Ning Yizhuo x m!reader

word count: 13k

The elevator doors slide open on the fourth floor and the first thing you see is Kim Minjeong on her knees behind a ceramic plant pot.

You naturally arch a brow at the sight. She's crouched low, both hands gripping the rim of the pot like it's a trench wall, her entire body pressed against the fake fern sprouting out of it. She's wearing an oversized grey shirt that barely reaches mid-thigh - and from the way the fabric shifts when she moves, you're pretty damn sure that shirt is the only thing she has on. Her black hair is messy, half-falling over her face, and her bare feet are flat on the hallway tile.

You stop walking. You Blink. You tilt your head.

She hasn't noticed you yet. She's too busy peeking around the edge of the pot, neck craned, lips slightly parted, completely frozen in concentration. The hallway stretches in both directions, somewhere further down you can hear the faint sound of someone rummaging through a bag.

"So, goonette," you say, loud enough to echo off the walls, "what the fuck are you doing?"

Minjeong nearly leaves her body. She spins around so fast her hair whips across her face, grabs your wrist with both hands, and yanks you down to her level with a strength that should not exist in someone her size. Her eyes are wide, panicked, absolutely unhinged.

"Shut up," she hisses, pulling you behind the fern. "Shut up shut up shut up. She's right there."

You stumble forward, catching yourself on the wall. "Ow. What the hell, Minjeong?"

Minjeong jabs her finger down the hallway. You follow the direction and see a girl standing in front of an apartment door about six units down. She's got her back partially turned, one hand holding a tote bag while the other digs around inside a small leather purse. Even from this angle and this distance, you can tell she's gorgeous. Dark hair spilling past her shoulders, a cream-colored blouse tucked into a pleated skirt that stops well above the knee.

"That's her," Minjeong whispers. "Ning Yizhuo. The new neighbor."

"Okay. And?"

"And?" Minjeong stares at you like you just asked her what oxygen is. "And she's right there. In the hallway. Where I also am. At the same time."

"That's generally how hallways work."

"You don't understand." Minjeong shakes her head rapidly. "I can't let her see me. Not like this. I was waiting for you, I heard footsteps, I opened my door and she was already out here, and I just," she gestures at the plant pot, "improvised."

You look at the plant pot. You look at Minjeong, a grown woman in nothing but an oversized shirt, hiding behind fake foliage in a well-lit public corridor.

"This is the worst improvisation I've ever seen."

"Shut up."

"You don't even fit behind this thing. Your whole left shoulder is sticking out."

"I said shut up." She tugs on your sleeve again. "Look at her. Look at that skirt. Are you looking?"

You glance back down the hallway. The girl, Ning Yizhuo, apparently, shifts her weight from one foot to the other while she searches for her keys, and the movement makes the pleated skirt sway against her thighs.

"Yeah, she's hot. So go talk to her."

“Are you out of your FUCKING mind?" she whispers sharply.

"It's 2026, Minjeong. Lesbians have some privileges now. You can say hi to a pretty girl without being burned at the stake."

"I can't just go talk to her."

"You literally can. You walk over there, you open your mouth, and you say hey, I live in 69, nice to meet you."

"No. No no no no." She's shaking her head so hard her hair whips back and forth. "She's too beautiful. She's too perfect. Every time I see her I forget how to be a person. The first time I greeted her, I said 'day nice you'. Last week she smiled at me in the lobby and I walked into a glass door. A glass door. In front of her. She watched me do it."

"Jesus Christ."

"I'm in love with her and she thinks I'm brain damaged."

You open your mouth to respond, but then something shifts in the hallway. Ning has stopped digging through her purse. She's looking up. She's looking your way.

Minjeong suddenly drops flat onto her stomach behind the plant, and judging by the noise, it definitely hurt.

You're still half-standing, fully visible, and now there's a very pretty girl staring directly at you from twenty feet away with a slightly confused expression on her face.

"Hi?" Ning calls out. She takes a small step forward, tilting her head. Her face is even prettier up close. Round cheeks, full lips, a little furrow between her brows that somehow makes her look both concerned and adorable. "Are you lost?"

"No," you say, straightening up and trying to look like a normal human being who was not just crouching behind a plant with a half-naked girl. "I'm visiting a friend. Apartment 69. You know if she's home?"

Ning's expression softens. "Oh, the girl in 69? I don't know, honestly. I don't see her very often." Behind the pot, Minjeong clenches her jaw so hard you can almost hear her teeth creak. "She seems nice, though. Quiet. Try your luck, I guess."

"Thanks. I will."

Ning gives you a small wave and a smile that, yeah, okay, you understand why Minjeong is losing her entire mind. It's a very good smile. Warm and a little bit shy.

"Bye," Ning says, and then she finds her keys, unlocks her door, and disappears inside.

The hallway goes quiet. You count to three. "She's gone."

Minjeong rises from behind the pot like a vampire emerging from a coffin. Her face is bright red. Her shirt has ridden up on one side, exposing the curve of her hip, and she doesn't even notice. She just stands there, staring at Ning's closed door, mouth slightly open. You grab her arm and steer her toward apartment 69. She lets you. She's basically on autopilot at this point, shuffling along beside you in bare feet, still looking over her shoulder.

The second you're both inside and the door clicks shut behind you, she leans against the wall and slides down until she's sitting on the floor. "I'm a loser."

"Yep."

"A complete loser."

"The most pathetic dom I've ever met." You kick off your shoes and step past her into the apartment, placing your jacket on the arm of the sofa. It's messy in the way Minjeong's place is always messy, not dirty, just chaotic; a hoodie draped over a chair, three half-empty water bottles on the coffee table, her laptop open on the couch with what you suspect is Ning's Instagram still loaded on the screen. "You can choke me out and make me call you mommy but you can't say hi to a girl in a skirt."

"Shut up."

"You said that already."

"Then shut up again." She pulls her knees up to her chest. The shirt rides higher. She's definitely not wearing anything underneath it, and frankly, you already knew that because this is how it works with you two. She knew you were coming over. She was ready. And then Ning happened and now she's sitting on her own floor having an existential crisis instead of riding your face like she planned.

"Are you horny?" you ask.

She looks up at you with the most offended expression ever. "Of course I'm horny, idiot. I was standing meters away from her. I could smell her perfume. I'm soaked."

"Great. Take it out on me. That's what I'm here for."

That flush on her neck deepens, crawls up to her cheeks, and the corner of her mouth curls into something that isn't quite a smile. It's more like a switch being flipped. One second she's a puddle of useless gay panic on the floor, and the next she's looking at you the way she looks at you when she wants to break you apart.

"Yeah," she says, and just like that, there she is: The Kim Minjeong who knows exactly what she wants and exactly how to take it. "That is a great idea."

This is the thing about your arrangement with Kim Minjeong: you've been fucking for about eight months now, no strings, no feelings, just a mutually beneficial deal that started at a house party where she got drunk, told you she needed someone to use when she was stressed, and you said sure, because you're a simple man with simple needs and she's objectively one of the hottest women you've ever met. No romance. Never has been.

You keep calling her a lesbian, though she’s technically bi – she just prefers women every time. Men are just recreational, tools for her pleasure (and you’re no exception).

She's a dom through and through. With women, she's terrifying. Commanding, controlled, but with you, the dynamic bends. She tops, sure, most of the time, but there's a flexibility to it. A give and take. She likes that you can pick her up. She likes that you push back, that you don't just fold the second she gives an order. She'll never admit it, but sometimes she wants to be the one getting thrown around, and you're the only person she trusts enough to let that happen.

Dom with girls. A bratty little thing with you (when she feels like it).

You don't give her time to get up on her own. You close the distance in two steps, bend down, and scoop her off the floor. She yelps as you throw her over your shoulder like a sack of rice. Her bare thighs press against the side of your face and her fists smack against your back.

"Put me down! I'm the dom here. You can't just manhandle me."

"You're only a dom with other girls." You adjust your grip on her legs, one hand firm on the back of her thigh, the other settled on her lower back, and start walking toward the bedroom. "With me, you're still a submissive little slut."

"Only sometimes," she fires back, but she's laughing, her body shaking against your shoulder, that yelp of surprise already dissolving into breathless giggles that she's trying (and failing) to suppress. Her fingers grab onto the back of your shirt for balance. "This is so undignified. I'm supposed to be intimidating."

"You were hiding behind a plant pot thirty seconds ago. The intimidation ship has sailed."

"I will kill you."

"After I make you cum, maybe."

She smacks the back of your head playfully.

You carry her into the bedroom and throw her onto the mattress. She bounces once, twice, hair splaying out around her head, shirt bunched up around her waist. You were right. Nothing underneath. Just Minjeong, flushed and bare from the waist down, propped up on her elbows, looking at you with that dangerous half-smile that means she's already deciding how she wants this to go.

"What a gentleman," she says, spreading her legs just slightly wider against the sheets.

You pull your shirt over your head and toss it somewhere behind you and then you're climbing onto the bed, climbing onto her, one knee between her thighs and both hands planted on either side of her head.

Minjeong watches you the whole time. That half-smile still there, lazy and sharp at the same time, her eyes tracking you as you settle your weight over her. She doesn't move to take control. Not yet. She just lies there with her hair fanned out on the pillow and that stupid oversized shirt bunched around her ribs, bare from the waist down, waiting.

You kiss her. She smiles against your mouth. You can feel the curve of it, the way her lips pull tight before they soften and open for you. Her hand comes up to the back of your neck, nails dragging lightly through the hair there, and she tilts her chin up to press closer. It's slow. Familiar. You've done this enough times to know exactly how Minjeong kisses when she's wound up (desperate, messy, like she's trying to crawl inside you) versus how she kisses when she's settling in (languid, teasing, every movement calculated). This is somewhere in between. She's keyed up from the hallway but trying to play it cool, and you can feel the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers grip just a little too hard on your neck.

You drop your mouth to her throat. Her pulse hammers against your lips. You drag a slow kiss along the tendon there, down to the junction of her neck and shoulder, and that's where you find it. A faded bruise, yellowish-purple at the edges, right above her collarbone. Your work from last Tuesday.

"Still got it," you murmur against the mark.

"It takes forever to fade on me. I've been wearing turtlenecks like a catholic school teacher."

You press your lips to the hickey, then to her jaw, then to the corner of her mouth, then to her cheek. You pause there. Pull back just enough to look at her.

Kim Minjeong's face is something else. It really is. The bone structure alone is borderline unfair. But up close like this, with her hair messy and her cheeks flushed and her pupils blown wide, there's a softness to her that the sharpness can't hide. Long lashes. Lips bitten pink. She looks, in this moment, genuinely cute. Sweet, even. Innocent. And nobody in the world would guess that this girl has a strap-on collection organized by size in her closet and once made you edge for forty-five minutes while she ate a sandwich.

Your hand slides down. Over the bunched-up shirt, across the flat plane of her stomach, past the dip of her navel. She doesn't flinch, doesn't tense. Just watches you with those dark eyes, lips slightly parted, breathing steady but shallow. Your fingers trail through the thin strip of trimmed hair between her legs and then lower, and the second you make contact, the truth of her situation becomes very, very clear.

She's not just wet. She's slick. Swollen. Her lips are puffy against your fingertips, flushed and hot, and when you drag two fingers through the length of her slit you can feel the slickness coat your skin in a single pass. Eight months of sleeping with this girl and you know what each level of turned on feels like, and this is top tier. This is "I stood three feet from my crush and smelled her perfume and now my brain is soup" levels of arousal.

You press your mouth back to hers. Her tongue meets yours immediately, sliding warm and slow, and you keep your hand where it is, fingers resting against her, not entering, not pressing, just there.

"I love seeing you like this," you say between kisses, your lips brushing hers with every syllable. "All silly. All lovestruck. It's hard to even recognize you."

"Fuck off."

"Seriously. You're like a different person. The girl who sat on my face last week and told me I wasn't allowed to breathe until she finished would never hide behind a plant pot."

"You don't understand." She bites your lower lip, not gently. "Ning doesn't just mess with me. She messes with me on a cellular level. Like, my DNA rearranges when she's nearby. I become a different organism."

"That's the most dramatic thing you've ever said, and you once cried because a girl at a bar had pretty collarbones."

"She did have pretty collarbones." Minjeong shifts her hips, pressing herself against your still-motionless fingers. "And I didn't cry. My eyes watered."

She pushes against your chest. Not hard, but with intent, and you know this cue well enough to roll with it. You let her flip the position, your back hitting the mattress, and she's on her side next to you in an instant. But she doesn't climb on top of you. Doesn't straddle you. Instead, she twists around toward the nightstand, reaching for her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Making you understand."

Her free hand finds your waistband. She tugs your pants down with a single efficient yank, underwear included, because Minjeong has never had patience for steps. Your cock springs free, already hard. She wraps her fingers around the base without even looking, thumb pressed against the underside, grip firm and familiar. Then she settles beside you, shoulder pressed to yours, and holds the phone up so you can both see the screen.

Ning's Instagram. Already open. Already loaded.

"Have you just... had this open? The whole time?"

"Don't worry about it." She scrolls up with her thumb. The grid fills with photos, and even in tiny square thumbnails you can tell this girl knows what she's doing with a camera. "Look. Everyone thinks she's this sweet little shy thing. And yeah, on the surface, sure. She posts these cute little aesthetic shots, coffee cups, sunsets, book stacks. But then."

She taps on a photo. It loads full-screen.

Ning, sitting on a windowsill, sunlight hitting her from behind. She's wearing a white tank top and shorts, legs crossed, chin tilted up. The light makes the tank top just translucent enough to show the shadow of her bra underneath. Her expression is serene. Very innocent.

"See? See that? She knows exactly what she's doing with that angle." Minjeong's hand starts moving on your cock. Slow, steady strokes, her grip twisting slightly at the head the way she knows you like. Her eyes don't leave the phone screen. "And this one." She swipes. New photo. Ning at what looks like a rooftop bar, leaning forward on a railing, wearing a low-cut top that compresses her tits together into a line of cleavage that is impossible not to look at. She's laughing at something off-camera, completely natural, completely devastating. "She posted this at eleven PM on a Wednesday," Minjeong says, her thumb swiping again, her other hand maintaining that maddening rhythm on your shaft. "Eleven PM. On a Wednesday. Who posts cleavage at eleven PM on a Wednesday?"

"Someone who looks good and wants people to know."

"Exactly. She's not innocent. She's a little slut who likes showing off. And everyone in her comments is like oh so pretty queen gorgeous and she replies with little heart emojis like she isn't fully aware that she's making people lose their minds."

She swipes again. And again. A photo of Ning at the beach in a bikini, a selfie where she's biting her lower lip and looking directly into the lens. A gym photo (sports bra, leggings, glistening with sweat, the absolute audacity of this woman). Each one, Minjeong narrates like she's giving a museum tour of her own personal torment.

Then she stops scrolling. Taps on one photo. Holds the phone closer. This one is different.

Ning took it with the phone behind her, catching the reflection in a full-length mirror. She's standing in what looks like her bedroom. She's wearing a dress. Tight. Short. White fabric that clings to every curve, hemline barely reaching mid-thigh. But that's not the part that makes your cock twitch in Minjeong's hand. It's the fabric itself. Slightly sheer. Just enough that you can make out, underneath the dress, the outline of her underwear. The faint color difference where the material thins over her ass. And her ass, in this photo, is the absolute center of gravity. Round. Full. The exactly kind of shape that the dress was designed to showcase, every inch hugged tight.

Minjeong's grip tightens on you. Her strokes get slower. She's savoring both the image and your reaction simultaneously.

"Look at that," she murmurs. "Look at her ass. It's so round. So tight. Do you see how the dress barely holds it? And those panties showing through, she knew. She absolutely knew when she put that dress on."

"Yeah," you manage, because her thumb is doing something truly unfair to the head of your cock right now.

"I think about this photo at least three times a day. Minimum. I've zoomed in. I've screenshotted it. I'm not proud of any of this."

"You shouldn't be."

"But look at it." She tilts the screen again, like you somehow missed it. "That's my neighbor. That ass is twenty feet from my front door at any given time. That ass takes out the trash. That ass rides the elevator. That ass exists in the same building as me and I haven't touched it and I might actually die from that fact."

You turn your head to look at her. Her cheeks are red. Her lips are wet. Her hand hasn't stopped moving. "So what are you gonna do about it?"

Her strokes falter for half a second, that same panicked expression from the hallway, the one that turns her from a confident dom into a disaster lesbian in zero-point-five seconds flat. Then she recovers, keeps stroking, and lets out a long exhale through her nose. "Nothing. Yet."

"I honestly expected a little more confidence from you."

"I need courage! I need time. I need to figure out if she even likes girls, and I need to do that without accidentally liking one of her posts from 2024 at four AM, which, yes, has almost happened."

"God, you're hopeless."

"I know." She swipes back to the mirror photo. Stares at it. Her hand squeezes your cock, slow and tight. "For now I can only fantasize about her. About what I'd do if she let me. What she'd sound like. What she'd look like underneath all those little outfits." She locks the phone and drops it on the mattress. Turns her head to look at you. "But I've got you for now." Her hand twists on the upstroke. "So let me use you until I figure the rest out.”

“I'm all yours, babe.”

Minjeong smiles at that, then lets go of your cock and grabs the hem of her shirt and peels it off in one smooth motion, tossing it behind her. It lands somewhere on the floor, probably on top of your shirt, and now there's nothing between the two of you.

You've seen her naked plenty of times. Eight months of this arrangement means the novelty of nudity itself wore off around month two. But Minjeong's body is still something worth looking at, and you let yourself look while she shifts on the bed, swinging one leg over your hips to straddle you. She's small. That's the thing that always catches you off guard, every single time, the sheer smallness of her. Narrow shoulders, a waist you can almost span with both hands, ribs you can count when she arches her back.

Her tits are on the smaller side, firm and round, nipples already stiff, small rosy peaks, puffy and firm. Her stomach is flat, tight, the faint outline of muscle there not from any disciplined gym routine but from the kind of lean genetics that some people luck into. Her hip bones jut out just slightly, two subtle ridges that frame the space between her legs like brackets.

She's tiny. She's maybe a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. And she runs your entire sex life with an iron fist.

Minjeong settles her weight on your hips, her bare pussy pressing flat against the length of your cock. She's so wet that you can feel it immediately, hot slickness spreading against your shaft, coating the underside as she shifts her hips in a slow experimental grind. Her thighs tense on either side of you. She reaches down, wraps her fingers around your cock, lifts herself up just enough to position you, and then she sinks.

It's one fluid motion. No teasing, no hesitation, just Minjeong dropping her hips and taking you to the base in a single stroke. Her pussy swallows you whole, tight and soaked and burning hot, inner walls clenching around you as her weight settles into your lap. Her eyes flutter shut for half a second, lips pressing together, and then she exhales slowly through her nose and opens her eyes again.

She looks down at you. And gives you the most mischievous fucking smile you've ever seen on a human face.

It's the kind of expression that shouldn't be legal on someone this small, this cute, this outwardly innocent-looking. Her eyes are narrowed into pleased little crescents. She knows she looks good up there. She knows the visual of her tiny frame perched on top of you, back straight, shoulders back, every compact inch of her on display, is doing exactly what it's supposed to do to your brain.

Then she starts to move. Lazy rolls of her hips, grinding more than bouncing, working her clit against your pelvic bone with each forward push. You reach up and touch her face. Your thumb traces along her cheekbone, down to the corner of her mouth, and she turns her head just enough to catch it between her lips. Sucks it in to the first knuckle, tongue swirling around the pad, cheeks hollowing slightly. Her eyes stay locked on yours the whole time, still rolling her hips in that maddening rhythm.

She lets your thumb go with a soft sound and settles into a steady pace. Her pussy clenches around you every time she pushes forward, that grinding motion spreading her slick all over the base of your cock, making everything obscenely wet.

"So," you say, resting both hands on her thighs, "how was your day?"

"Fine. It was a good day, actually."

"Tell me more."

"Worked until like four. Nothing crazy, just emails and a presentation that nobody's going to read." She punctuates this with a particularly firm grind, her clit dragging hard against you, and her eyelids flutter. "Then I came home and played Burnout Revenge."

"The racing game?"

"PS2 classic. I'm running it through an emulator with upscaling to 4K. The textures hold up surprisingly well, actually. The crash physics are still unmatched in the genre, and at higher resolution you can really appreciate the particle effects during takedowns."

"That was extremely specific. Anything else?"

She bites her lip. The rhythm of her hips hasn't faltered once during this entire conversation, steady and practiced, she could probably fuck you and file her taxes at the same time. "And, obviously, I kept gooning to Ning."

"Obviously."

"The usual routine. Went through her tagged photos. Found a TikTok where she's doing that stretching trend. Watched it nine times. Locked my phone. Unlocked it. Watched it four more times." She rolls her hips in a tight circle that makes your fingers dig into her thighs. "Came twice thinking about her sitting on my face. Showered. Then you texted."

"So your evening was: vintage racing games, cyberstalking, and masturbating."

"Don't judge me."

"I'm not judging. Just a goonette living her best life. Gotta respect it."

She leans forward, planting her hands on your chest again, and the angle shifts. Now she's bouncing, lifting her hips until just the tip stays inside and dropping back down with a wet slap of skin. Her tits sway with the motion small enough that it's more of a jiggle, barely there, but you watch it anyway because she's gorgeous. Her stomach flexes with each rise and fall. The muscles in her thighs work visibly under her skin.

"She posted a story today," Minjeong continues, slightly breathless now but still committed to the conversation. "Just a mirror selfie. Gym clothes. Sports bra and those tiny shorts. You could see the outline of her..."

"Her what?"

"Her pussy." Minjeong says it like she's confessing a mortal sin. "Through the shorts. Just the shape. The seam was sitting right between her lips and I almost threw my phone across the room."

"You're unwell."

"I'm aware." She sits up straight and grinds down hard, taking you as deep as possible, and her jaw goes tight for a second. Her cunt is soaked, absolutely drenched, and every movement makes a slick, filthy sound that fills the space between sentences. "I screenshot it. I have it saved in a separate album. With the other forty-seven screenshots."

"Forty-seven."

"Don't start."

You slide your hands up from her thighs to her waist, gripping that narrow frame, thumbs pressing into the soft skin below her ribs. She feels impossibly small in your hands, fragile almost, and the dissonance between that and the way she's currently milking your cock with practiced efficiency is something you'll never fully get used to.

She plants her palms flat on your abs and picks up the pace. Faster now, less grinding and more fucking, her hips snapping down with intent. Her pussy is clenching in uneven pulses, tight enough that you can feel every ridge of her, every slick fold gripping your shaft on the outstroke. A strand of her black hair sticks to her forehead with sweat. Her cheeks are flushed dark pink.

"Ning. Tell me what you'd do if you had her. All of it."

That glassy, faraway look sharpens into focus, and the corner of her mouth twitches upward. She leans down, chest pressing against yours, and kisses you, her lips brush yours when she talks. "You want to hear it?"

"Every detail."

She rolls her hips once, grinding your cock against her front wall, and exhales warm against your mouth. "Okay. So first, I'd take my time. I wouldn't rush her." Her hips find a rhythm again, slow circular grinds, keeping you deep while she talks. You thrust up to meet her, a steady push from below, and her breath hitches before she continues. "I'd get her on this bed. Right here. And I'd just kiss her for a while. Like, actually kiss her. I want to know what her mouth tastes like. I want to learn the shape of her lips with mine." She kisses you again, brief, punctuating the thought. "Then I'd undress her. Slowly. I'd take that little skirt off first and just look at her legs. Run my hands up her thighs. Feel how soft she is."

"Romantic."

"Shut up, I'm getting there." She grinds down harder, her clit catching against your pelvic bone, and her jaw tightens for a second before she keeps going. "I'd kiss down her neck. Her collarbones. I'd pull her bra off and put my mouth on her tits. She's got perfect tits, you saw the photos. I'd suck on her nipples until she's squirming and pulling my hair."

You thrust up into her, firm and steady, and she gasps against your lips. Her pussy clenches around you, soaked and tight, and you feel her arousal running down your shaft onto your thighs. She's dripping.

"Then I'd go lower. Kiss her stomach. Bite her hip bones. And when I finally got between her legs..." Minjeong's breathing is heavier now, her hips grinding with more urgency. "I'd make her wait. I'd kiss the insides of her thighs. Breathe on her pussy without touching it. Let her feel how close my mouth is. She'd be begging by then."

"You think?"

"I know. She'd be grabbing the sheets and whining and pushing her hips up, trying to get my mouth on her." Minjeong bites your lower lip, tugging gently. "And I'd look up at her and say, 'Ask nicely.' And she would. She'd say please in that sweet little tone and I'd finally put my tongue on her clit and she'd lose her fucking mind."

You grip her hips and pull her down onto the next thrust, burying yourself to the hilt, and she moans against your mouth. A shaky, breathy thing that she immediately tries to talk over.

"I'd eat her pussy until she came on my face. I'd drink every drop." Her fingers curl against your chest, nails pressing crescents into your skin. "And then I wouldn't stop. I'd keep going. She'd be sensitive and twitching and trying to close her legs but I'd hold her open and keep licking until she came again."

"That's just foreplay?"

"That's just the beginning." Minjeong sits up slightly, just enough to change the angle, and sinks back down with a wet sound that echoes in the room. Her pussy grips you impossibly tight as she adjusts. "After that, I'd flip her over. Get her on her hands and knees. And I'd take my time looking at her from behind. That ass, spread open for me, her pussy swollen and wet and dripping down her thighs."

She's riding you harder now, the tempo picking up. Her thighs flex against your sides with each stroke, her abs clenching as she grinds forward. You match her rhythm from below, fucking up into her.

"I'd spit on her pussy." She says it right against your lips, no hesitation. "I'd watch it drip down. Then I'd finger her. Two fingers, deep, curling right against that spot. I'd finger-fuck her until her arms gave out and she collapsed face-first into the pillow."

"And the strap?"

Her eyes light up. Literally brighten, like you just said the magic word. "The strap! Oh, I'd make her earn the strap. She'd have to suck it first. Get on her knees in front of me and take it in her throat. Get it nice and wet while looking up at me. And I'd hold her hair and tell her she's a good girl."

She kisses you again, messy and open, all tongue and shared breath. When she breaks away, a thin string of saliva connects your lips for a second before it breaks. "Then I'd fuck her. Start slow. Let her feel every inch going in. And then I'd grab her hips and rail her until she screamed. I'd pull her hair and smack her ass and call her my little whore and she'd love it, she'd take it so well, she'd push back onto me begging for more."

You thrust up hard enough to make her yelp. She recovers instantly, grinding down, chasing the friction against her clit with desperate, needy movements.

"But here's the thing. That's all just the beginning. The real plan is bigger."

"Bigger how?"

"I'm going to turn her into a pet."

"A pet?”

"A kitten." She says it with absolute conviction. "I'm going to slowly, methodically, lovingly transform Ning into my personal kitten." She grinds down on you, rotating her hips in a tight circle that makes your toes curl, and keeps talking like she's not currently fucking you into the mattress. "I still have that collar. The one with the little bell. I bought it over a year ago and never used it because I never found the right person." Her pussy clenches around your cock, rhythmic, pulsing. "Ning is the right person. I'm going to put that collar around her pretty neck and hear that little bell jingle every time she moves. Every time she crawls to me."

"Crawls."

"On her hands and knees. Like a good kitten." She licks her lips. "First, the collar. Let her get used to wearing it. Sleep in it. Feel it against her throat all day and think about who it belongs to. About who she belongs to."

Your hands slide up her thighs, gripping her waist as you keep thrusting into her from below. She's dripping down your shaft, her arousal coating the insides of her thighs, making everything slippery and filthy.

"Then the ears. Cute little cat ears on a headband. She'd wear them when she comes over. Take off her shoes at the door and put on her ears and become my kitten." Minjeong's riding is getting erratic, less controlled, her body chasing something. "And finally... the tail."

"Tail?"

"Anal plug. With a tail attached. Long, fluffy, the kind that sways when she walks." Her eyes are glazed, dark, gone somewhere deep inside her own fantasy. "She'd wear all three. Collar with the bell. Ears. Tail. And she'd kneel at my feet and purr while I pet her hair and tell her she's the prettiest kitten in the whole world."

She drops her forehead against yours, breathing hard, her hips slamming down onto you with increasing desperation.

"A slow metamorphosis," she pants. "Step by step. From the sweet neighbor into my perfect little pet. Exactly like Kafka."

That makes you pause mid-thrust. "Kafka?"

"The Metamorphosis. Gregor Samsa wakes up transformed. Ning's transformation is just more... intentional. Guided. Consensual."

"I really don't think Kafka's book is about pet play, Minjeong."

She sits up, still riding you, still grinding, her pussy clenching in those telltale uneven spasms that mean she's getting close, and gives you a look of genuine academic offense.

"It doesn't matter. Let me tell you a secret about art: once a work is published, it no longer belongs to the author. It belongs to the public. And the public draws its own interpretation." She punctuates this with a hard grind that nearly makes you choke. "A work of art depends on its creator to be born, but once it's finished, its existence no longer depends on the creator. Barthes wrote about this. The death of the author."

"You’re pushing this concept to another level."

“If there are two things I take seriously, it’s literature and smut." Her thighs are shaking now, trembling visibly, and her rhythm is falling apart. She's close and trying to hold the conversation together through sheer stubbornness. "So yes. I'm going to give Ning a metamorphosis. A beautiful, filthy, calculated metamorphosis. From girl to kitten."

You grab her hips and pull her down hard, thrusting up into her, and her composure cracks. Her head drops back, her nails rake down your chest, and her pussy clamps around you like a fist. "Well," you manage, "better a kitten than an insect, I guess."

She laughs (or tries to, it comes out strangled and thin) and then you grab her thighs and flip her. One smooth motion, you've done this enough times to know how she folds, and suddenly she's on her back beneath you, black hair splayed across the pillow, legs wrapped around your waist, looking up at you with glassy, unfocused eyes and a mouth that won't stop running.

You slide back into her and she arches off the mattress. "Keep talking," you tell her, setting a deep, steady pace. "Tell me where I fit in."

Her arms loop around your neck, pulling you close, her lips brushing against your ear while you fuck her. "You'd be there. When I have her. I'd make you fuck her while I watch."

"Yeah?"

"On her back. Legs spread. I'd hold them open for you and watch your cock slide into her pretty little cunt." She clenches around you, hard, her heels digging into the small of your back. "I'd tell you how fast to go. When to stop. When to keep going. She'd look at me the whole time, begging me with those big eyes, and I'd just pet her hair and tell her to take it."

You pound into her harder and she gasps, fingernails raking down your shoulders.

"And when I'm done watching, I'd climb over her face and sit on it. Make her eat me out while you fuck her." Her hips are rocking up to meet every thrust, her pussy so wet you can hear it with every stroke, slick and obscene. "And I'd cum on her. I'd squirt all over her gorgeous face and her neck and her tits and she'd be dripping with it, covered in me, and she'd fucking love it."

"What about me?"

Her legs tighten around you. She's trembling, her whole body vibrating with tension, and her sentences are coming out fragmented, breathless. "You'd pull out of her pussy and jerk off on her face. All of it. Every drop. I want to see her pretty face painted with your cum. And then I'd lean down and lick it all off. Every streak. From her forehead to her chin. And I'd kiss her and push it into her mouth and she'd swallow it and thank me."

You drive into her deep, grinding, and her back arches so hard only her shoulders and hips are touching the mattress. "We'd take turns. I'd fuck her with the strap until she's screaming and then hand her to you. You'd fuck her throat until she's gagging and then give her back to me. Back and forth. Like she's ours. Our little toy. Our perfect little..."

Her sentence dies. Her mouth opens in a silent gasp, eyes squeezing shut, and you feel it before she says anything. Her pussy locks down around your cock in rhythmic, convulsive pulses, tight enough to make you grit your teeth. Her thighs clamp against your ribs. Her nails break skin on your shoulders. Her whole body goes rigid, suspended, every muscle drawn taut like a wire.

Then she breaks. The orgasm tears through her in waves. She shakes underneath you, her hips bucking upward, riding it out on your cock while incoherent sounds spill from her throat. Not moans, not screams, something between the two. Raw, guttural, the sound of someone who's been edging herself mentally for weeks on fantasies about her neighbor and finally found the right release valve). Her pussy flutters and grips and releases and grips again, milking your shaft in spasms that you feel all the way to the base of your spine.

You don't stop. You fuck her through it, pace relentless, chasing your own finish now. She's boneless beneath you, still twitching through aftershocks, oversensitive and whimpering every time you bottom out. Her hands slide weakly down your arms, grip failing, body completely spent.

It hits you thirty seconds later. That tight coil in your gut snaps and you pull out just in time, fist around your shaft, pumping hard. The first rope lands across her stomach, thick and hot against her skin. The second catches her ribs. The third drips between her tits, pooling in the dip of her sternum. She watches the whole thing with heavy-lidded eyes and a lazy, satisfied smile, her fingers trailing through the mess on her stomach, smearing it across her skin like lotion. "I love that," she murmurs. "I love feeling it land on me."

You collapse next to her. Both of you are breathing like you just finished a sprint. Minjeong stares at the ceiling, chest rising and falling, your cum drying on her skin in streaks.

"That was good," she says eventually.

"Yeah."

Silence for a few seconds. Comfortable. Then you roll your head to look at her.

"Take a quick shower."

She frowns. "Why the urgency?"

"Because while you're in there, I'm going to invite Ning over."

Minjeong sits up so fast she almost headbutts you. "Like, now? Right now?!"

"Right now."

"I'm not prepared. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. I have cum on my stomach. My hair is a disaster. I haven't mentally rehearsed any conversation starters. I don't even have snacks."

“Shower. Fix your hair. Put on something cute. I'll handle the rest."

She stares at you with the wide, panicked eyes of someone who's just been told their execution has been moved up. "What are you going to say to her?"

You shrug. "I'll improvise."

"That's the worst possible answer you could have given me!"

"Shower. Now. Go."

She goes. Reluctantly, trailing protests down the hallway, but she goes. You hear the bathroom door close, then the water start. You give yourself sixty seconds to pull your pants on, check your hair in the hallway mirror, and walk out of apartment 69.

Apartment 71 is right there. Two doors down. You knock. Footsteps. A pause (probably checking the peephole). Then the door swings open, and there's Ning.

She's changed since the hallway encounter. The skirt is gone, replaced by fitted jeans and a black blouse that you immediately cannot stop noticing. It's sheer. Not fully transparent, but enough that the dark outline of her bra is visible underneath and her hair is down, slightly wavy, framing that face.

"Oh, hi! You're the guy from earlier." She leans against the doorframe, smiling. "Did you find your friend?"

"I did, yeah. She was home."

"Good." Ning tilts her head. "So what's up?"

"Okay, this might sound random, but Minjeong and I ended up buying way too many drinks and it seems stupid for just two people to go through all of it. You want to come over? Just casual, hanging out, nothing weird."

Ning's eyebrows lift. "Minjeong invited me?"

"Basically, yeah."

"That's... huh." She crosses her arms, but not defensively. More like she's processing. "I thought she didn't like me very much, honestly. I always got the feeling she was avoiding me. Like, every time I see her in the hallway she kind of... disappears?"

You almost laugh. "No, she's just shy. Genuinely. She's one of those people who comes across as distant but really she's just terrible at starting conversations."

"Really?"

"Really. She actually thinks you're super nice. Talks about you a lot." (Understatement of the century.) "She'd love to get to know you better, she just doesn't know how to make the first move."

Ning's smile shifts. Wider, softer, and there's a pink flush creeping up her neck that she probably doesn't realize you can see. "That's actually really sweet. I've been wanting to talk to her too, I just didn't want to bother her if she wasn't interested."

"Trust me. She's interested."

Ning tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glances back into her apartment for a second and then looks back at you. "Yeah, okay. Let me grab my phone. Give me like two minutes."

"Take your time. Apartment 69, whenever you're ready."

She grins. "Be right there."

You lean against the wall outside apartment 71, hands in your pockets, waiting. Through the open door you can hear Ning moving around inside (a drawer opening, something falling, a muttered "where did I put it"). She reappears thirty seconds later, phone in hand, slipping on a pair of white sneakers by the door.

"Ready," she announces, pulling the door shut behind her.

You walk her the ten steps to apartment 69. It's not a long journey. Ning could have done it alone. But you're the wingman tonight, and wingmen escort. You push the door open and step aside to let her in first. She crosses the threshold at the exact moment Minjeong rounds the corner from the hallway, freshly showered, hair still slightly damp at the ends, wearing a cropped tank top and the shortest pair of cotton shorts you've ever seen on a human being. Her legs look freshly moisturized. She smells like peach body wash from three meters away.

She sees Ning.

Ning sees her.

Minjeong’s expression glitches in real time. Shock. Panic. A vacant reboot stare. And finally, a smile pulled so tight it looks less like happiness and more like muscle strain.

"Hi," Ning says brightly, giving a small wave. "I hope it's okay that I came over. Your friend said you guys had too many drinks?"

Minjeong's eyes slide to you. There is murder in them. Pure, concentrated, premeditated murder. Then she looks back at Ning and the strained smile returns. "Yeah. Totally. So many drinks. Come in."

You close the door and head straight for the kitchen. "Let me check what we're working with." You open Minjeong's refrigerator. The interior is depressingly sparse (condiments, leftover rice in a container, half a lemon wrapped in plastic, and three cans of beer lined up on the bottom shelf). "We have a total of... three beers."

You grab all three, carry them to the living room, and distribute one to each person. Ning takes hers, looks at the single can in her hand, then looks at you.

"I thought you said there were too many?"

"Three beers is way too much for two people... if you don't think about it."

Ning considers this logic. Decides not to challenge it. Cracks her can open.

The three of you sit on the couch. Minjeong on one end, Ning on the other, you in the middle like a human buffer zone. Complete silence. You can hear the refrigerator humming in the kitchen. Somewhere outside, a car alarm goes off and stops. Minjeong takes a sip of beer. Ning takes a sip of beer. You take a sip of beer.

"Is that TV new?" you ask Minjeong, gesturing at the wall.

She follows your gesture. Stares at the blank wall. Looks back at you. "There's no TV there."

"Oh. You're right. My bad."

More silence. Ning clears her throat. "This beer is good," she offers. "It's really... cold."

"I like cold beer," you say.

"Me too," Minjeong adds. "Water as well. And soda. Anything cold. I like cold liquids in general."

You have never in your life wanted to leave a room more than you do right now.

"So," Ning says, turning slightly to face both of you, "how did you two meet?"

"Mutual friends," you say at the same time Minjeong says "Mutual friends." You glance at each other. At least you're synchronized on the cover story. The real story involves a house party, four shots of tequila, and Minjeong whispering something in your ear so filthy you nearly choked on an ice cube. But Ning doesn't need that information right now.

"That's nice," Ning says. "I don't really know anyone in the building yet. I moved here about three weeks ago."

"Where from?" you ask.

"Across town. I chose this place because it's closer to the university."

"Cool," Minjeong says. Then nothing.

This isn't going anywhere. The conversation has the energy of a dentist's waiting room. Ning is being polite, Minjeong is buffering, and you're running out of observations about temperature-sensitive beverages.

Time to go nuclear.

You stand up. "I'm going to grab something from the fridge." You take one step, then turn back toward Ning as if you just remembered something: "Oh, by the way, Minjeong thinks you're very, very, very beautiful. Isn't that great?"

You don't wait for the reaction. You hear Minjeong hiss behind you (something that sounds a lot like "I'm going to fucking kill you"), but you're already walking to the kitchen with a grin so wide it hurts your face. You open the refrigerator and start rummaging, slowly, giving them all the time they need.

From the living room, silence. After a moment, Ning finally asks, softly: “Is that true?”

You can practically hear Minjeong's heartbeat from here. A pause. A long one. Then her answer, quiet and unsteady: "Well. If you like hearing it, it's true. If you don't like hearing it, then he's a liar and I'll fight him."

Ning laughs. Warm and sweet, not polite. "I like hearing it, don't worry."

Another pause. You move a jar of pickles aside, pretending to search for something.

"Then it's true," she says, softer than you’ve ever heard.

"I'm not going to let you panic alone." That's Ning. Closer now. "I think you're beautiful too. And mysterious. Every time I see you in the hallway you vanish before I can say anything and I've been wanting to actually get to know you properly for a while."

"I've wanted to get to know you properly too." Minjeong's breathing is audible even from the kitchen. "Your whole body, too." Dead silence. "I mean. That's. I didn't. That came out wrong! I meant your whole personality. Your whole person. Not your body specifically. Not that there's anything wrong with your body, your body is... I'm going to stop talking now."

"It's fine."

"I'm so sorry. God, I’m so pathetic. The second I’m around a pretty girl, my brain just shuts off.”

"Minjeong." Ning murmurs, tender and sure. "I said it's fine. Actually, I'd really like that."

You're still crouched in front of the refrigerator, not even pretending to look anymore, just listening. Then your eyes land on something wedged behind the leftover rice. Chocolate. A full bar, dark, still in the wrapper. You grab it, stand up, close the fridge.

You turn around.

On the couch, Ning has one hand on Minjeong's cheek. Minjeong's fingers are tangled in Ning's hair. Their mouths are pressed together, Ning tilting her head to deepen the angle while Minjeong pulls her closer by the waist. Ning's lips part and Minjeong leans in, and the kiss turns from tentative into something unhurried and real.

You stand there holding a chocolate bar, mouth slightly open.

"Okay. Damn." You look down at the chocolate, then back at the couch. "That was fucking fast."

Neither of them hears you. Minjeong's hand slides from Ning's waist to the small of her back, and Ning melts into her like she's been waiting three weeks for exactly this. You take a bite of chocolate and lean against the kitchen counter to watch, because honestly, you earned this.

Minjeong has shifted from sitting beside Ning to climbing onto her lap, knees bracketing Ning's thighs, hands cupping her face. The kiss has evolved past tentative and into something hungry, Minjeong tilting Ning's chin up with her thumb, licking into her mouth, rolling her hips in these tiny, unconscious movements against Ning's legs. Ning's hands hover at Minjeong's, then finally settle there, fingers gripping the hem of the tank top.

They've completely forgotten you exist. You take another bite of chocolate.

Then Ning's eyes drift open mid-kiss and catch you standing in the kitchen doorway, casually eating a snack. She breaks away from Minjeong's mouth, lips swollen and pink, looking slightly dazed.

"What about your friend?"

Minjeong glances over her shoulder at you, then back at Ning. She doesn't climb off her lap. Instead, she settles more comfortably, running her fingers through Ning's hair.

"So, the thing is: he and I are fuck buddies."

"Oh.” It's the only sound that comes out of Ning's mouth.

"We have sex together. Like, quite often. It's a whole arrangement."

"Oh."

"And I was wondering if maybe you'd want to join us tonight? Like, I don't know. It'll be fun."

"I'm sorry, join you as in..."

"As in exactly what you're thinking."

Ning lets out a short, startled laugh. "Minjeong. We just kissed for the first time like two minutes ago."

"I know."

"And you're already asking me to have a threesome with you and your friend."

"I know how it sounds. It is insane. One hundred percent. I won't argue with that." Minjeong's thumb traces small circles on Ning's hip, her gaze steady even though her ears are turning red. "But I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it. A lot. Like, an embarrassing amount."

"You've thought about this. This specifically."

"You, me, him. In very explicit detail. Multiple times. For weeks." Minjeong swallows but doesn't look away. "Since you moved in, basically. I've had whole scenarios in my head that I'm not going to describe right now because you'd never look at me the same way again."

"That's... I don't even know what to say to that."

"You can say no. It's completely fine. We'll pretend I never said anything and just go back to kissing on the couch and I'll die of embarrassment quietly on my own time."

"No, it's not that. It's just." Ning glances at you again. You keep your face perfectly neutral. Switzerland. "This is a lot. I barely know either of you."

"I get that."

Ning chews the inside of her cheek. She's fidgeting with the hem of her top, twisting the fabric between her fingers. "Can I be honest about something?"

"Please."

"I find it really, really hot that you've been thinking about that."

Minjeong is going to die. You can see it happening, the superhuman effort required to keep her expression at calm and cool when every atom of her being is screaming. Ning covers her face with one hand, speaking through her fingers. "And it's so embarrassing to admit this but I've always wanted to try it. A threesome. Like, always. It's been on my list forever and I never had the opportunity or the nerve and now you're just casually offering it to me on a random weeknight and I..."

"You have a list?"

"Shut up, everyone has a list." Ning drops her hand. Her face is burning but her eyes are bright. "It's so kinky. It's so filthy. I can't believe I'm actually considering this."

"You're considering it?"

"I'm past considering it." She exhales, something reckless and electric settling into her expression. "Okay. Yeah. Okay. Before I lose my nerve and go back to my apartment and scream into a pillow for three hours about what I almost did."

Minjeong takes her hand. "Come see my room.”

The three of you file down the hallway. Minjeong pushes the bedroom door open and Ning steps in, her eyes sweeping the space. It's relatively tidy (Minjeong cleaned up most of the evidence), but a few things are still out. A bottle of lube on the nightstand. A silicone vibrator resting casually on the dresser like a paperweight. A harness draped over the back of a chair.

Ning stares at the harness, then at the vibrator, then at Minjeong.

You lean close to Ning's ear. "These are just the ones she left out. The whole arsenal is in the drawers."

"Drawers," Ning repeats faintly. "Plural."

"Top one is straps. Middle is accessories. Bottom is stuff she won't tell me about."

Minjeong shoots you a look but doesn't deny it. She perches on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, and pats the sheets beside her. "Sorry, the bed's a little messy. We were, um. He and I were having sex before you came over."

"Seriously?"

"Yes," you confirm, stepping closer. "In fact, we were having sex and thinking about you."

Ning's lips part. Her eyes go wide, bouncing between the two of you. "About me?"

"Minjeong came thinking about you." You say it plainly. "She talks about you constantly. She's been stalking your Instagram for weeks. Those photos you post, the ones in the tight dresses? She has a whole saved folder."

"Forty-seven screenshots," Minjeong adds quietly, apparently deciding that full transparency is the move now.

"Forty-seven," Ning echoes.

You guide Ning gently by the shoulders until she's sitting on Minjeong's lap, facing outward, her back against Minjeong's chest. Minjeong's arms wrap around her waist instinctively, chin resting on her shoulder.

"Minjeong is a certified perv, you’re her newest subject of observation,” you continue. "She hid behind a plant in the hallway tonight because you were wearing a skirt and she couldn't handle it."

"The plant," Ning says, something clicking. "I thought I saw someone crouching by that fern."

"That was her."

Minjeong groans into Ning's shoulder.

You don't waste time and lean down to kiss Ning. Soft, exploratory, tasting the beer on her lips, and she kisses you back without hesitation. Behind her, Minjeong holds her steady, fingers spreading across Ning's stomach. Ning pulls back, slightly dazed. "Having two people wanting me like this. Thinking about me like that. It's... it's messing with my head."

Minjeong's lips find her ear. You don't hear the whispers, but you know exactly what she's saying. Ning's breath hitches. Her thighs press together. Her eyes flutter shut. While Minjeong murmurs, you kneel down and untie Ning's sneakers, pulling them off one at a time. Then her jeans (button, zipper, easing the denim down her legs while she lifts her hips to help). Her blouse goes next, Minjeong helping from behind, and then she's sitting there in a black lace bra and matching panties, skin warm and flushed, goosebumps rising along her arms.

"Look at you," Minjeong breathes, running her palms over Ning's bare shoulders. She presses her lips there, a trail of kisses across the curve. "These shoulders. So broad. So pretty." She kisses the junction of her neck. "Your skin is so soft."

Ning shivers. You pull your shirt off. Take off your shoes. Unbuckle your belt. Ning watches, her blush deepening, a nervous little laugh escaping her when your pants hit the floor. "A guy and a girl at the same time. Wow."

"Get used to it," Minjeong murmurs against her neck. "I have a feeling you're going to get addicted."

You're down to your underwear now. You lean in and kiss Ning again, your tongue sliding against hers. Behind her, Minjeong's mouth works along Ning's neck, sucking gently, and Ning melts between the two of you. Trapped. Surrounded. Four hands roaming her body (yours tracing her collarbone, her ribs, the dip of her waist; Minjeong's sliding up her stomach, thumbs brushing the underside of her bra). Then Minjeong turns Ning's chin and the three of you meet in the middle, all tongue, breath and wet contact, mouths overlapping in a messy, three-way kiss that falls apart into smiles and reconnects again.

Minjeong taps Ning's hip. "Move up for me."

She shifts to the center of the bed, pulling Ning with her, and lays her down against the pillows. Ning's hair fans out dark against the white sheets. Minjeong reaches behind Ning's back and unclasps her bra with one hand, sliding it off her arms. Then her panties, peeled down slowly, Ning lifting her hips again, and then she's completely bare.

Minjeong stares, her gaze traveling down Ning's body with worship and hunger simultaneously. "You're so beautiful. Fuck, you're even more perfect than I imagined."

Minjeong pulls her own tank top off in one fluid motion. The shorts follow, kicked off the edge of the bed. No underwear (of course). She kneels beside Ning, fully naked, and reaches down between her own legs. Her fingers spread her pussy open, showing Ning. Swollen, pink, glistening wet, her clit hard and visible.

"See this? This is what you do to me. I've been like this since you walked in the door." She holds herself open, letting Ning look. "You have to take responsibility."

Ning's eyes are fixed between Minjeong's thighs. Her tongue darts across her lower lip. "I'll do anything."

"Lie flat for me." Ning obeys. Flat on her back, arms at her sides, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Minjeong swings one leg over Ning's head and settles her knees on either side. “If you want me to stop, tap my thigh twice,” Minjeong tells her. Ning nods in agreement. She lowers herself slowly, her wet pussy hovering inches above Ning's mouth, thighs framing that perfect face. Ning's hands come up to grip Minjeong's hips, pulling her down, and then her mouth is on her. Minjeong's breath punches out of her chest. Her spine straightens. Her fingers find the headboard for balance.

You settle between Ning's spread legs, lying on your stomach, and lower your mouth to her cunt. She's soaked, thoroughly, completely soaked, her inner thighs already slick. You drag your tongue flat from her entrance to her clit and she moans directly into Minjeong's pussy, the vibration making Minjeong gasp above her.

Minjeong is facing you, looking directly down the length of Ning's trembling body and into your eyes while you eat her out. Her pupils are blown wide. Her lips are parted. She rolls her hips against Ning's tongue and watches you work between those gorgeous thighs.

Ning's tongue drags flat against Minjeong's slit, tentative at first, tasting her, learning the landscape. You watch it happen from between Ning's thighs. Minjeong's face shifts from composed to fractured in a single breath, her grip on the headboard tightening, knuckles going pale. She exhales through her nose, slow and controlled, trying to hold her composure the way she always does when something feels too good too fast.

"Slower," Minjeong instructs, settling her weight down just a fraction more. "Take your time with me."

Ning adjusts. Her tongue narrows, tracing the outer edges of Minjeong's lips in long, patient strokes, avoiding the clit entirely, teasing without knowing she's teasing. Or maybe she does know. Her fingers grip Minjeong's thighs for purchase, thumbs dimpling the soft skin.

You lower your mouth back to Ning's cunt, deliciously wet now, her arousal smeared across her inner thighs, her lips swollen and flushed dark pink. You flatten your tongue against her clit and hold there, just pressure, no movement, letting her feel the heat of your mouth. Her hips twitch upward. You pull back an inch. She whines into Minjeong's pussy, and the vibration makes Minjeong's spine curve.

"She's good at this," Minjeong murmurs, more to herself than to you. Her hips roll forward, a slow grind against Ning's mouth, coating her chin, her cheeks. "Such a good mouth. Such a pretty, eager little mouth."

You circle Ning's clit with the tip of your tongue. Tight circles, building sensation, then you pull away completely. Kiss her inner thigh instead. Ning's legs tremble. Her hips chase your mouth and find nothing.

That's the game. You've played it before with Minjeong (she taught you, actually, during one of those early sessions where she sat you down and explained exactly how she wanted to be tortured). Build the pressure. Take it away. Build it higher. Take it away again. Make the body so desperate for release that when it finally comes, it breaks something. Ning is already responding to it. Every time you return to her clit, she's more sensitive, more reactive. Her thighs shake when your lips close around the swollen bud. Her hips buck when you suck gently. And every reaction feeds directly into Minjeong through her mouth, because Ning can't separate what she's receiving from what she's giving.

Minjeong grinds down harder. The restraint is gone now. She's using Ning's face, rocking her hips in steady, selfish rolls that drag her clit across Ning's tongue with each pass. Her pussy is leaving streaks of wetness across Ning's chin, her cheeks, the bridge of her nose. Ning takes all of it, mouth open, tongue working, breathing through her nose in short bursts between Minjeong's thighs.

"You're doing so well," Minjeong pants. She reaches down and pushes Ning's hair back from her forehead. "My perfect little slut. You were made for this, weren't you?" Ning moans her agreement into Minjeong's cunt, and Minjeong's eyes roll back for a second before she catches herself.

You slide two fingers into Ning. Slow, curling upward, pressing against her front wall while your tongue works her clit in lazy, unpredictable patterns. She's so wet your fingers meet no resistance, just the tight, hot grip of her walls clenching around you as you push deeper. You pump into her a few times, steady, feeling her pulse around your knuckles, then pull out entirely.

Ning's hips lift off the mattress, searching. Her thighs clamp around your head. You pry them apart gently and blow cool air across her soaked pussy, watching the muscles in her stomach jump. "Please," she gasps into Minjeong, smothered between Minjeong's thighs, but you both hear it.

You press your tongue flat against her clit again and hold. No movement. Just heat, pressure and the promise of more. Her legs start shaking.

Above her, Minjeong is losing her rhythm. The controlled grinding has dissolved into something needier, less precise, her hips stuttering and jerking against Ning's mouth. "Make me cum," Minjeong breathes. "Right now. Make me cum, Ning."

Ning's hands slide up from Minjeong's thighs to her ass. She grabs both cheeks, fingers digging into the flesh, and pulls Minjeong down hard against her face. Her tongue pushes inside. Not against the clit, not teasing the entrance. Inside. Deep, as far as she can reach, curling and stroking Minjeong's walls while her nose presses against Minjeong's clit.

Minjeong shatters. Her whole body seizes. Her head drops back, tendons standing out in her neck, mouth open, a long, broken moan tearing out of her chest. Her hips grind down in tight, frantic circles against Ning's face, riding the orgasm out on her tongue, her pussy clenching and releasing in visible pulses. Wetness floods Ning's chin, her neck, pooling in the hollow of her throat. Minjeong shakes through it for what feels like a full minute, her grip on the headboard the only thing keeping her upright, wave after wave rolling through her until she's gasping and oversensitive and trembling.

She lifts herself off Ning's face on unsteady knees. Ning lies beneath her, mouth and chin and cheeks glazed with Minjeong's arousal, chest heaving, lips puffy and swollen and glistening. And she's close. You can feel it in the way her pussy clenches around your fingers (you've slid them back inside during Minjeong's orgasm, three now, curling rhythmically against that spongey spot while your thumb traces circles around her clit). Her legs are shaking uncontrollably. Her abs are taut. She's right there, right on the edge, teetering.

"Please," Ning whimpers, looking up at Minjeong with glassy, desperate eyes. "Please, I need to, I'm so close, please let me."

Minjeong slides off to the side, settling next to Ning, propped on one elbow. She runs a finger along Ning's jaw, collecting some of her own wetness, and pushes it between Ning's lips. "You'll cum when I tell you."

"Please, Minjeong, I can't, I need it."

"You can hold it." She strokes Ning's hair, calm and collected now, fully back in control despite the fact that she was just falling apart thirty seconds ago. "Be a good girl for me."

You pump your fingers steadily inside Ning, curling on every outstroke, your thumb maintaining constant pressure on her clit. Her walls flutter around your knuckles in desperate, involuntary spasms. Her fists grip the sheets so hard the fabric bunches. Every muscle in her body is locked.

"Minjeong," Ning begs again. Tears are forming at the corners of her eyes, not from pain but from the sheer intensity of holding back. "I'll do anything. I'll be so good. I'll be your good girl, I promise, please, I'm begging you."

Minjeong watches her for a long, cruel moment. Then she leans down, presses her lips to Ning's ear, and whispers, "Cum for me."

Your thumb presses down hard on Ning's clit and your fingers drive deep and curl. Ning screams. Not a moan, not a gasp. A full, raw, wrecked scream that tears out of her throat as her back arches completely off the mattress, her pussy clamping down on your fingers so tight it almost hurts. Her thighs slam shut around your hand. Her whole body convulses, rhythmic, violent contractions that shake her from her core outward, and she keeps screaming through it, broken fragments of Minjeong's name and and sounds that aren't language anymore.

You work her through it until she collapses, boneless and twitching, her legs falling open, your fingers still buried inside her pulsing cunt.

Minjeong turns to you. "Clean her face."

You pull your fingers out of Ning and move up the bed. Her face is a mess. Minjeong's juices coating her chin, her cheeks, the sides of her nose, drying in sticky trails. You lean down and drag your tongue from her jaw to her cheekbone, collecting the taste of Minjeong off Ning's skin. Across her chin. Along her upper lip. The corner of her mouth. You gather all of it on your tongue, every slick, musky trace, then you press your mouth to Ning's and push it all inside. Your tongue slides against hers, feeding her Minjeong's arousal, and Ning moans into the kiss, her hands coming up weakly to grip your face.

When you pull back, Ning's eyes are unfocused and completely gone. "Daddy," she whispers.

Minjeong's eyebrows lift. She looks at you. You look at her. A charged, knowing glance passes between you. "On your knees," Minjeong tells Ning, shifting back into something commanding and absolute. "On the floor. You're going to suck his cock now."

Ning slides off the bed like her bones are made of liquid, settling onto her knees on the carpet, looking up at both of you with that ruined, beautiful, cum-stained face and waiting.

Ning wraps her fingers around your shaft. She doesn't put it in her mouth right away. Instead, she tilts her head and presses the length of it against her cheek, dragging it slowly across her skin, her jaw, the corner of her lips. Her eyes close. She nuzzles against it like it's something precious, the warm weight of your cock resting against that gorgeous face, and she exhales through her nose, content.

"Look at her," Minjeong says from the edge of the bed, legs crossed, leaning forward on her elbows. "She didn't even need to be told. Show us how much of a slut you really are, Ning."

Ning drags your cock across her other cheek, leaving a faint streak of precum glistening on her skin. She opens her eyes and looks up at Minjeong, searching for approval, and presses her lips to the underside of the shaft in a long, lazy kiss.

Then she takes you in. No teasing, no tentative licks. She parts her lips and slides you into her mouth, her tongue pressing flat against the underside, cheeks hollowing as she sucks you in to the halfway point. Warm, wet, tight. Her lips seal around the shaft and she pulls back slowly, then pushes forward again, finding a rhythm.

Minjeong leans back on her palms, watching with fascinated eyes. "Get it nice and wet for me. Every inch. That cock is going inside your little pussy next, so you better make sure it's ready." Ning moans around your shaft. The vibration rolls through you and your hand finds the top of her head, fingers threading into her hair. She bobs steadily, saliva building around her lips, coating you, making everything slick and messy.

"You know what's funny," Minjeong continues, conversational. "I've seen every single photo on your Instagram. Every one. That mirror selfie in the white dress? The bikini shots? That gym story where the seam of your shorts was sitting right between your pussy lips?"

Ning's rhythm falters for a second. She pulls off your cock, a string of spit connecting her lower lip to the head, and looks at Minjeong with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. "You saw that?"

"I screenshot it. You knew exactly what you were doing when you posted it. Little tease. Showing off that body, those curves, hoping someone would notice." Minjeong tilts her head. "Well, someone noticed."

Ning licks her lips, tasting the mix of saliva and precum. "I am a tease."

"You're more than a tease. You're a slut who posts thirst traps at midnight hoping someone will come put her in her place." Minjeong's voice is fond and cruel at the same time, a combination only she can pull off. "And here you are. On your knees. Drooling on a cock. Exactly where you belong."

"Exactly where I belong," Ning repeats.

She takes you back in her mouth, pushing past the halfway point, her throat opening up as she works more of you inside. Her hand wraps around the base, stroking what her mouth can't reach, spit running down her fingers.

"Tell me something," Minjeong says, sliding off the bed and kneeling beside Ning on the floor. She tucks a strand of hair behind Ning's ear, gentle, then traces her thumb across Ning's stretched lower lip where it meets your shaft. "What do you prefer? Pussy or dick?"

Ning pulls off with a wet sound. She jerks you slowly while she answers, her fist slick and tight. "I can't decide."

"Pick one."

"I can't." She rubs the head of your cock against her parted lips while she talks, smearing spit and precum across her mouth. "I want both. Together. At the same time. Fucking me."

Minjeong face shifts into a look of predatory delight. "Both at once. Greedy little thing. I bet you'd give up all your holes if we asked. Pussy, mouth, ass. Every single one."

Ning nods without hesitation. "Every one. All of them. I'd let you use all of me."

"Say it properly."

Ning's eyes lock onto Minjeong's. "I'd give you every hole I have. Both of you. However you want. Whenever you want. I'm yours."

Minjeong strokes her cheek kindly. Then she gathers Ning's hair into a fist at the back of her head and pulls, firm enough to tilt her face upward. "Open."

Ning opens her mouth. Minjeong guides her head forward, pushing your cock between those swollen lips, controlling the depth, the angle, the speed. Slow at first. She pulls Ning down to the midpoint, holds her there for two seconds, then lets her come back up.

"Deeper," Minjeong instructs. She pushes Ning further. Three-quarters. You feel the head of your cock brush the back of her throat and Ning's hands grip your thighs, steadying herself. Her eyes water. She breathes through her nose, adjusting.

"All of it." Minjeong's fist tightens in Ning's hair. "Take the whole thing. Gag on it for me."

She pushes Ning all the way down. Your cock slides past the resistance of her throat and Ning chokes, her whole body lurching, spit flooding around the shaft and dripping from her chin. But she doesn't pull away. Her fingers dig into your thighs and she holds herself there, throat constricting around you in tight, involuntary spasms. Tears bead at the corners of her eyes, catching the light.

Minjeong holds her in place for three seconds. Four. Five. Then pulls her off by the hair. Ning gasps, a thick rope of saliva stretching from your cock to her lips before it breaks and drops onto her chest. Her mascara has started to run, thin dark tracks beneath her lower lashes.

"Good girl," Minjeong purrs, wiping Ning's chin with her thumb. "Look at you. So messy already."

She pushes Ning back down. Faster this time, setting a rhythm with her fist in Ning's hair, fucking her face onto your cock with controlled, merciless strokes. Ning takes it. Her throat opens and closes around the head on every downstroke, spit bubbling at the corners of her mouth, dripping off her chin in thick, translucent strings that land on her tits, her collarbones, the floor between her knees.

"This is what all those Instagram photos were really about," Minjeong tells her between strokes, pulling her up for air then shoving her back down. "Every posed selfie, every tight dress, every lip bite. You were advertising. Begging someone to see through the pretty packaging and find the desperate little cockslut underneath."

She pulls Ning off. Ning coughs, gasps, saliva coating her entire lower face. Her lips are swollen and red, her chin is a mess, and her eyes are glassy with tears that haven't quite fallen. "Thank you," Ning rasps.

Minjeong cradles her jaw, tilts her face up, and studies the damage with open admiration. Ruined makeup, spit-slicked skin, puffy lips trembling with exertion. A masterpiece in progress.

"We're just getting started," Minjeong tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead that is somehow tender considering the circumstances. "Keep drooling over that dick," Minjeong tells Ning, giving her hair one last stroke before standing up. "I need to get something."

She pads across the room to the dresser, bare feet on hardwood, and pulls open the second drawer. You hear her rummage for a moment, pushing things aside with purpose. Ning stays on her knees, her fist wrapped loosely around your shaft, stroking in slow, absent movements while she watches Minjeong's back. Saliva still drips from her chin in lazy strings. The bell hasn't arrived yet and she's already waiting like something trained.

Minjeong turns around holding a strip of black leather. Thin, elegant, with a small silver buckle and a tiny bell dangling from a ring at the front. She walks back with it draped across both palms, presenting it like a jeweler showing a necklace.

"Look at you," she says softly, stopping in front of Ning. Her gaze travels down from Ning's tear-streaked face to the spit glistening on her chest, the swollen lips, the collar of bruises already forming on her knees from the hard floor. "Kneeling there, serving both of us. Makeup ruined. Drool everywhere. You look like a perfect little pet."

"She really does," you agree.

Minjeong crouches to Ning's level. "Tell me what you want to be."

Ning's eyes drop to the collar, then rise back to Minjeong's face. "A kitten."

Minjeong's breath catches. The momentary crack in the dom facade where the girl who hid behind a fern forty minutes ago surfaces and can't believe this is actually happening. A goonette fantasy becoming real. Then she blinks and it's gone. "That's the perfect answer." She unfastens the buckle, opens the collar wide. "I have exactly what you need to be a proper domesticated kitten."

She reaches forward and wraps the leather around Ning's throat. Gentle, careful, adjusting the fit so it sits snug but not tight, the cool metal of the bell resting in the hollow between her collarbones. She threads the leather through the buckle and pulls it closed.

"What do you think?" Minjeong asks, looking up at you.

"Looks perfect on her." You tilt your head, studying the way the black leather contrasts against Ning's skin, the way the little bell catches the lamplight. "You told me you'd been saving that for someone special. Seems like you finally found her."

Ning smiles when she hears that. Minjeong cups Ning's face with one hand, running her thumb across her lower lip, smearing the mess of spit and precum that's collected there. Ning's tongue darts out and licks the pad of Minjeong's thumb, maintaining eye contact. Like an obedient kitten lapping at her owner's hand.

"So cute," Minjeong whispers. She traces the ruined tracks of mascara under Ning's eyes, the smudged eyeliner, the foundation that's gone patchy from tears and spit. "So beautiful like this. All ruined. You know what I want? I want you to always wear makeup when we have sex. Full face. So I can watch it fall apart piece by piece. Watch you go from perfect to wrecked."

"Yes, Minjeong."

"Meow for me."

Ning doesn't hesitate. She tilts her chin up, the bell jingling softly, and lets out a small, sweet meow. Breathy and earnest and completely without irony. Minjeong giggles. An actual, genuine, delighted giggle that breaks through the dominant composure entirely. She covers her mouth with one hand and laughs, eyes crinkling. "Oh my god. You actually did it. I can't believe you actually did it." Ning smiles up at her, proud, the bell swaying against her throat. "So obedient." Minjeong smooths herself back into control, the grin turning firm. "Go to bed, kitten."

Ning rises (legs a little unsteady, knees red from the floor) and climbs onto the mattress, settling on her back against the pillows. The bell chimes with every movement she makes. Minjeong crosses the room again, this time to a different drawer. You sit on the edge of the bed beside Ning and rest your hand on her calf, running your thumb along the muscle there. She looks at you with those big, glassy, wrecked eyes.

"You feeling okay?"

She lets out a nervous little laugh, the bell jingling as her chest moves. "I've never felt so many things at once. I'm nervous and excited and my brain is like... short-circuiting? In a good way. In a really, really good way."

"You were born for this."

She stares at the ceiling, a bewildered smile spreading across her face. "And to think I was going to spend tonight watching Gossip Girl again. For the fourth time. I was on season three."

"Ning, this is objectively a better use of your evening."

"So much better," she agrees, still smiling at the ceiling like she can't quite believe her own life.

Minjeong reappears at the bedside. In one hand, a pair of padded handcuffs (black leather, matching the collar, because Kim Minjeong is nothing if not aesthetically coordinated). In the other, a tube of lipstick. Deep red, almost burgundy.

She climbs onto the bed with the fluid confidence of someone who has orchestrated this exact type of scenario before (even if never with someone she actually had feelings for). She straddles Ning's waist, takes both her wrists, and guides them above her head. The handcuffs loop through a slat in the headboard and click shut around each wrist with a snap. Ning tugs once, testing. Secure.

"The collar is a good start," Minjeong says, settling her weight on Ning's hips and uncapping the lipstick. "But it's not enough. You're a kitten with owners now, and kittens need to be marked so everyone knows who they belong to."

She presses the lipstick to Ning's stomach. The tip is cool against warm skin, and Ning flinches slightly, her abs tensing, the bell chiming from the movement. Minjeong writes in slow strokes across that flat, taut canvas. Each letter precise. When she finishes, she leans back to admire her work.

CUM DUMP. Bold, red, slightly smeared at the edges where Ning's breathing made her stomach rise and fall.

"Perfect," Minjeong murmurs. She looks at you. "What do you think?"

"I was going to suggest something but anything I wrote would sound incredibly sexist coming from me, so I'm glad you took creative control."

"Haha, very funny." She caps the lipstick and tosses it aside, then looks down at Ning. "Do you agree with what it says?"

Ning cranes her neck to read it upside down. The bell jingles. Her cheeks flush even darker than they already were, but she nods. "Yes. That's me."

"Good girl." Minjeong runs her fingertips along Ning's sides, feeling the goosebumps rise in their wake. "Obviously, she still needs more marks. Look at this skin." She pinches Ning's hip lightly and a pink spot blooms instantly on the pale flesh. "So fair. So sensitive. Every touch is going to leave a trace. It'll be easy for you to turn her all red."

She climbs off Ning and settles beside her, one hand possessively resting on Ning's collared throat, thumb stroking the leather. She looks at you with that dark, commanding certainty that has no business existing in the same person who said "day nice you" to this girl three weeks ago. "Fuck her tight little pussy. Make her scream.”

You obey without hesitation, settling between Ning's spread thighs, her legs draped over yours, the handcuffs clinking softly against the headboard slat as she shifts. The bell on her collar chimes. The red lipstick letters on her stomach rise and fall with her breathing. You grip the base of your cock, still slick from her throat, and drag the head along her slit. She's drenched, swollen, her pussy lips parting easily under the pressure, and Ning's entire body tenses in anticipation, her wrists pulling against the cuffs.

You push inside her. Slow. Inch by inch. The heat is staggering, tight and wet and gripping you like a fist, her walls clenching around the shaft as you sink deeper. Ning's head drops back against the pillow and her mouth falls open, the bell jingling as her throat works around a soundless gasp. You bottom out, hips flush against hers, and hold there. Let her feel the fullness. Let her adjust to being stretched around you while handcuffed and collared and marked with lipstick on a bed that still smells like the sex you had with Minjeong an hour ago.

Minjeong, meanwhile, has moved. She's propped against the headboard beside Ning, one leg bent, the other extended, and she's rummaging through the nightstand without looking (because she knows the layout of that drawer by muscle memory at this point). Her hand emerges with a small, matte black vibrator, compact and curved. She clicks it on, the low hum filling the room, and presses it between her own legs with a satisfied sigh. She spreads herself open with two fingers and nestles the tip directly against her clit, her thighs falling apart, and settles in to watch.

"Tell me what she feels like," Minjeong says. "I want details."

You pull back halfway and thrust in again, a deep, measured stroke that makes Ning's back arch off the mattress. "Tight. Really fucking tight. Tighter than you."

"Obviously. I've been broken in. She hasn't." Minjeong adjusts the angle of the vibrator and her breath stutters for a second. "What else?"

"Wet. She's dripping. I can feel it running down my balls." You thrust again, establishing a slow, grinding rhythm, pulling nearly all the way out before sliding back in to the hilt. Ning's pussy grips you on every outstroke like it doesn't want to let go. "And hot. She's burning up inside."

"Hear that, Ning?" Minjeong turns her head to look down at her. Ning's face is flushed, eyes half-shut, lips parted around shallow breaths, the tear tracks of ruined mascara still visible on her cheeks. "Your desperate little cunt is putting on quite a performance."

Ning's hips roll up to meet your next thrust and a moan spills out of her, unguarded and raw. "It feels so good."

"Yeah?"

"So good. Oh my god." Her wrists strain against the cuffs as she tries to reach for you and can't. The bell jingles with every movement, a constant, delicate accompaniment to the wet sounds of you fucking her. "I can feel all of you. Every inch."

You lean forward, changing the angle, pressing deeper, and Ning's eyes snap open. You grab her hip with one hand, anchoring her, and set a rhythm that's firm and constant, each stroke bottoming out, grinding against her cervix before pulling back.

"I bet she'd love having two cocks in her," Minjeong says, pressing the vibrator harder against her clit, her free hand gripping the sheet beside her thigh. "Mine and yours. Both stuffed inside that greedy little hole at the same time. Stretching her open until she couldn't think straight."

Ning's breath catches. She turns her head toward Minjeong, and even through the haze of pleasure there's something uncertain in her expression. "I don't... I don't think two would fit in me."

Minjeong snorts a soft, ruthless laugh, pure dismissal. "We'd make it fit. We'd go slow and work you open and push inside together and you'd take it because that's what dumb little cum dumps do. They take whatever gets shoved inside them and say thank you." You punctuate her point with a particularly hard thrust and Ning cries out, her voice pitching high, bouncing off the bedroom walls.

"Careful," Minjeong purrs, circling the vibrator in slow patterns against herself, her own arousal glistening on the toy. "The neighbors are going to hear you. What will they think of sweet, innocent Ning from apartment 71? The nice new girl with the pretty smile who waves in the hallway? Moaning like a little slut in heat for two people she met tonight." She tilts her head, studying Ning's mortified, aroused expression. "What do you think Mrs. Park next door would say if she could hear you right now? She brings you fruit baskets, doesn't she? Sweet old lady. Probably thinks you're such a wholesome young woman. If only she could see you handcuffed and collared with CUM DUMP written across your belly and a cock buried in your soaking wet pussy."

Ning whimpers, flushing from her cheeks all the way down her chest, the embarrassment and the arousal tangling together until they're indistinguishable. You feel her cunt clench around you, tighter, wetter, her body responding to the humiliation even as her face burns with shame. You keep fucking her. Steady, controlled strokes, each one dragging your shaft along her front wall, each one forcing a small, involuntary sound from her throat. The bell hasn't stopped chiming. The handcuffs rattle against the headboard in rhythm with your thrusts. The red lipstick on her stomach is starting to smear where your hand grips her hip, the M in DUMP bleeding into a crimson streak across her skin.

Minjeong's gaze drifts to the floor. She spots her own shorts. She clicks the vibrator off, sets it aside, and leans over the edge of the bed to pick them up. She examines them for a second, turning them inside out, finding the crotch panel. Even from where you are, you can see the damp patch.

"Open your mouth," Minjeong tells Ning. Ning obeys, lips parting, and Minjeong presses the wet patch of fabric directly against her nose and mouth. Ning inhales and her eyes roll back, a full-body shudder running through her, her pussy clamping down on you so hard your rhythm stutters.

"That's what you do to me," Minjeong whispers, rubbing the shorts across Ning's face slowly, smearing her own scent across Ning's cheeks, her lips, the bridge of her nose. "Smell that? That's how wet I get just looking at you. Every time you walk past me in that hallway, every time I see you through the peephole, this is what happens. I soak through my clothes thinking about you."

Ning moans into the fabric, her hips rising to meet your thrusts, desperate and squirming. Minjeong bunches the shorts into a ball and pushes them into Ning's open mouth, stuffing the damp cotton between her teeth until her cheeks bulge around the makeshift gag. Ning's sounds become muffled, smothered, her moans vibrating through the fabric but unable to escape fully.

"Much better," Minjeong says, admiring her work. "Pathetic little animals shouldn't be so loud. You're a house pet, not a stray. Learn some manners."

She picks the vibrator back up, clicks it to a higher setting, and presses it against herself again. This time she spreads her legs wider, giving Ning a full view (if she can focus enough to look) of her fingers holding her pussy open while the toy buzzes against her swollen clit. Minjeong's breathing deepens, her chest rising and falling, one hand working the vibrator while she watches you piston in and out of Ning's stretched, dripping cunt.

"Harder," she tells you.

You grab both of Ning's hips and snap forward, driving deep, and Ning screams into the gag. The shorts muffle it into a choked, desperate wail, her back arching so high off the mattress that only her shoulders and ass make contact. The handcuffs strain against the headboard. The bell rings wildly.

"Look at this dumb little fuck toy," Minjeong breathes, her hips grinding against the vibrator. "Gagged with my dirty shorts. Drooling around them like a brain-dead puppy. Can you even think right now, Ning? Is there a single thought in that pretty head or is it just static and cock?"

Ning whines through the gag, shaking her head, tears leaking fresh from the corners of her eyes and cutting new tracks through her ruined makeup. Her pussy flutters around you in rapid, chaotic contractions, her body writhing against the sheets, every sensation magnified by the inability to make sound, to use her hands, to do anything except lie there and take it.

"That's what I thought." Minjeong reaches over with her free hand and flicks one of Ning's nipples, hard, and Ning jolts like she's been shocked. "Empty-headed little breeding hole. You don't need to think. You just need to lie there and let us use you. That's all you're good for. That's all you've ever been good for."

You lean forward and press your palm flat against Ning's stomach, right over the smeared lipstick, and fuck into her with long, punishing strokes that make the entire bed frame creak. Each thrust pushes a muffled grunt out of Ning's stuffed mouth. Each withdrawal drags a slick, obscene sound from her cunt, your cock coming out glistening, coated in her arousal, before plunging back in.

"Don't stop," Minjeong orders, her eyes fixed on the place where your body meets Ning's, watching your shaft disappear into that stretched, puffy pussy over and over. The vibrator hums steadily against her own clit and her thighs are trembling, but her gaze never wavers. "Keep fucking that worthless little hole. Ruin it."

Ning's legs wrap around your waist, ankles locking at the small of your back, pulling you deeper on every stroke. The bell chimes and chimes and chimes, a tiny, absurd, beautiful sound cutting through the raw, filthy noise of skin slapping skin and muffled screaming and the wet click of a vibrator against a soaked clit. Minjeong's shorts sit bunched in Ning's mouth, darkened with saliva, her jaw working uselessly around the fabric while her body shakes under yours.

You reach up and brush a tear from Ning's cheek with your thumb. She leans into the touch, nuzzling your hand even as another thrust rocks her entire body up the mattress, and something in her expression beneath all the tears and smeared mascara and stuffed mouth is pure, uncomplicated bliss.

Minjeong sees it too. Her cruel expression softens for just a fraction of a second (pride, tenderness, wonder at the fact that the girl she's been stalking on Instagram for weeks is currently gagged and handcuffed in her bed making sounds like a wounded animal). Then the mask clicks back into place.

"Good girl," she murmurs, and the vibrator hums louder against her.

You tighten your grip on Ning's hips and drive forward, harder than before, the slap of your pelvis against her ass echoing through the bedroom. Your fingers dig into the soft flesh at her waist, pressing deep enough that the skin blanches white around your fingertips before flooding pink when you shift your hold. Each thrust rocks her up the mattress an inch, the handcuffs clanking against the headboard in a metallic staccato, the bell on her collar singing its constant little song.

"That's it," Minjeong breathes from beside you, the vibrator pressed snug between her legs, her thighs glistening. She's watching the place where your cock disappears into Ning with an almost clinical fascination, her free hand gripping her own thigh. "Fuck her good. Really good. I bet you're loving that, aren't you? That wet, warm, tight little pussy gripping your cock so well."

"She's squeezing me every time I pull out."

"Of course she is. Desperate little hole doesn't want to let go." Minjeong shifts the vibrator's angle against her clit and her abs clench. "Her body knows what it's for even if her brain hasn't caught up yet."

You increase the pace again, snapping your hips forward with enough force that the bed frame groans against the wall. Your hands on Ning's hips are leaving marks now, red fingerprints blooming on her pale skin like stamps, and you watch them appear and darken with each adjustment of your grip. She's going to wear those bruises for a week. Little oval reminders pressed into her flesh that she'll see every time she showers, every time she changes, every time she catches herself in a mirror.

Minjeong leans over and spits on Ning's chest. A thick glob that lands between her tits and slides slowly down toward her sternum, mixing with the smeared red lipstick. "Dirty slut."

Ning's muffled shriek through the gag is somewhere between protest and ecstasy. Her hips buck up against yours, chasing the impact, her body arching into the degradation like a plant turning toward sunlight. The shorts stuffed in her mouth are soaked through with saliva, her jaw working around the damp cotton, drool leaking from the corners of her lips and running down her chin in thin streams.

"It's so good hearing her like that," Minjeong murmurs, pressing the vibrator harder against herself. "All those little choked sounds. Like a puppy whining through a muzzle." She tilts her head, studying Ning's tear-streaked, gagged, spit-covered face. "But now I want to hear her beg."

Minjeong reaches over and hooks a finger into the bunched fabric, pulling the shorts from Ning's mouth. They come out dark with spit, and Ning gasps, gulping air, her jaw stretching wide to relieve the ache. A thick rope of saliva connects her lower lip to the wadded cotton for a second before it breaks. Minjeong stands. Right there on the mattress, rising to her full height above Ning's prone body, feet planted on either side of her ribcage. Small but towering, naked, the vibrator buzzing at maximum in her hand, pressed hard against her swollen clit. Her pussy is flushed dark, her inner thighs slick with arousal, and she looks down at Ning the way a goddess looks at an offering.

"Beg me," she says. "Beg me to cum all over your body. Ask me to drench you. To bathe you in it. Make it sound delicious, kitten, or I won't give you a single drop."

Ning's face is a wreck. Mascara smeared to her temples, foundation patchy and streaked, lipstick bitten off entirely, her cheeks flushed so deep they're almost purple. She looks up at Minjeong standing above her while you keep fucking her in long, brutal strokes, and the combination of being split open on a cock and staring up at the woman she's been crushing on for three weeks breaks something loose inside her.

"Please," she moans, her wrists pulling uselessly at the cuffs. "Please cum on me, Minjeong. All over me. I want it. I want to feel it. I want to be covered in you, I want it on my face and my tits and my stomach, please, please give it to me, I need it, I need you."

Minjeong's legs tremble. The vibrator hums furiously against her clit, her hand pressing it so hard the skin around it dimples. "Are you a dirty little whore?"

"I'm a dirty little whore."

"Whose dirty little whore?"

"Yours. I'm your dirty little whore, Minjeong, please, please cum on me, mark me, I want to smell like you, I want to taste you, please."

You slam into Ning and she screams, the sound raw and open now that the gag is gone, and Minjeong breaks above her like a dam. It starts with a strangled moan that rips from somewhere deep in Minjeong's chest. Her knees buckle slightly, her thighs clamping together around the vibrator, and then it happens. She cums, hard, and the squirt hits Ning's body in a hot, clear arc. It splashes across her tits first, then her stomach, then her collarbones as Minjeong's hips jerk and pulse, wave after wave of fluid pouring out of her in rhythmic gushes. Minjeong's free hand grabs her own thigh for stability, her mouth open, head thrown back, a long, shattered moan pouring out of her that doesn't sound like the composed, commanding woman who was giving orders thirty seconds ago. It sounds like someone coming undone at a molecular level.

Ning squeals beneath the onslaught, flinching at first as the warm fluid hits her skin, then going still, then opening her mouth. She tilts her chin up and catches the last pulses on her tongue, her lips, her cheeks, letting Minjeong's cum pool in the hollow of her throat and overflow down the sides of her neck. There's so much of it. It runs in rivulets across her ribs, pools in her navel, mingles with the spit and the smeared lipstick until her entire torso is a glistening, dripping mess.

"It's so warm," Ning whispers, eyes wide, almost awed.

You stare. You've seen Minjeong squirt before (on your face, on your chest, once on the kitchen floor by accident), but watching it land on Ning (on that perfect body, in that collared throat, across those parted lips) while you're buried to the hilt inside Ning's cunt is something else entirely. It's the filthiest, hottest, most depraved thing you've ever witnessed in your life, and you know with absolute certainty that this image is going to be burned into your brain until the day you die.

Your composure snaps. "I'm going to cum."

Ning's legs lock around your waist, heels digging into your lower back. "Inside me. I'm on the pill. Please. Inside."

Minjeong drops to her knees on the mattress, still trembling from her own orgasm, and looks at you with glazed, heavy-lidded eyes. "Good girl. Cum inside her. Fill her up."

You bury yourself as deep as you can go, your fingers gripping Ning's marked, bruised hips hard enough to leave fresh prints, and let go. The orgasm tears through you hot and blinding, your cock pulsing inside Ning's clenching pussy, pumping thick ropes of cum against her cervix. Ning's eyes roll back, her lashes fluttering, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp as she feels the heat flood her insides. Her walls clamp down around you in rhythmic, milking contractions, coaxing every drop out of you, and she trembles from head to toe, a soft, broken little moan leaking from her throat that trails off into nothing as her body goes limp beneath yours.

The three of you breathe. Ragged, heavy, out of sync. The vibrator lies abandoned on the sheets, still buzzing faintly. You pull out slowly, carefully, and sit back on your heels. Ning's pussy is swollen and flushed, her lips puffy and parted, and as your cock slides free, a thick trickle of cum follows, oozing from her entrance, dripping down the curve of her ass onto the sheets beneath her.

"Look at her," you murmur, running your gaze across Ning's body. She's glowing. Literally glowing, her skin sheened with Minjeong's juices from collarbone to hip, glistening in the warm light. The remnants of the lipstick letters peek through the mess like a watercolor left in the rain. The collar sits snug against her throat. Her face is ruined and radiant and completely, utterly spent.

Minjeong crawls to the edge of the bed and looks between Ning's legs. She watches the cum leak from that swollen, used pussy, and her tongue drags across her lower lip slowly. "You," she says to you, not taking her eyes off the mess between Ning's thighs, "lick her body clean. Every inch. All of my cum, off every part of her." She settles onto her stomach between Ning's legs, face inches from her dripping cunt. "I'm going to eat yours out of her pussy."

You start at Ning's neck. The hollow of her throat, where Minjeong's juices have pooled against the leather of the collar. Your tongue drags through the warm, slick fluid and Ning giggles, her shoulders scrunching up.

"That tickles." You smile against her skin and keep going. Across her collarbone, tracing the ridge of bone, collecting the taste of Minjeong (familiar to you, musky and slightly sweet) off Ning's body. Down to her chest, your tongue flat against the curve of her breast, circling toward the nipple, lapping up every trace. Ning squirms, the handcuffs rattling, another breathless laugh escaping her as your tongue hits a sensitive spot along her ribs.

Then Minjeong's mouth touches her pussy, and the giggling stops. Ning's entire body goes taut. Her breath catches in her throat and comes back out as a long, trembling sigh that seems to drain every ounce of tension from her muscles. Her head sinks deeper into the pillow. Her eyes close. Her lips part. "Oh," she breathes. "Oh, that's..."

You move lower, licking a path down her stomach, through the ghostly remnants of the lipstick, tasting salt and Minjeong's cum and the warmth of Ning's skin underneath it all. Your tongue dips into her navel, circles it, continues downward along the soft plane below. Meanwhile, you can hear Minjeong working between Ning's thighs, the wet sounds of her tongue lapping at Ning's entrance, scooping your cum out of her, swallowing, going back for more. Ning's hips start to move. Subtle, involuntary rolls, pressing up toward Minjeong's mouth, then settling back, then pressing up again. Her breathing has gone shallow and uneven, little gasps punctuating each exhale, the bell on her collar chiming softly with the motion of her chest.

"Two people," Ning mumbles, her eyes still closed, her head turning to the side on the pillow. "Two people licking me at the same time. This is insane. This is so fucking good."

You work your tongue along the crease where her hip meets her thigh, that sensitive fold of skin, and she shivers beneath you. Minjeong's head bobs gently between Ning's legs, her tongue pushing inside, collecting the last of the cum pooled deep within her, and Ning lets out a sound that's barely human. Low, sustained, vibrating in her chest, the kind of sound someone makes when they've stopped trying to perform and simply surrendered to what their body is feeling.

Her fingers curl into fists above the handcuffs. The bell rings softly, endlessly. Her whole body glows under the lamplight, wet and clean and worshipped, and she melts into the mattress like she's never going to move again.

Minjeong lifts her head from between Ning's thighs, her chin glossy, her lips swollen and shining. She licks the corner of her mouth slowly, savoring, her eyes half-closed like she just tasted something transcendent at a Michelin-star restaurant.

"Your cum," she says to you, running her tongue across her lower lip one more time, "mixed with her juices. It's perfect. It's like they were made to go together. I could eat it out of her for hours."

She presses one final, lingering kiss to Ning's pussy (Ning twitches, oversensitive, a tiny whimper escaping her) and then sits up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "But now." Minjeong crawls up the bed until she's level with Ning's face, looking down at her with that predatory calm. "I need his cock. You've had your turn, kitten."

Ning blinks up at her, dazed and glowing, wrists still locked above her head. "What do I..."

"You're going to stay right there. Handcuffed. Watching me get fucked." Minjeong reaches over to the sheets where the vibrator lies dormant and picks it up, turning it over in her hand. She clicks the base once, twice, three times, cycling through the settings until the hum becomes aggressive. Maximum power. "And this is going to keep you company."

She spreads Ning's thighs apart with one hand. Ning's pussy is puffy and flushed, freshly eaten, still glistening. Minjeong positions the vibrator at her entrance and pushes it inside in one smooth motion. Ning's spine lifts off the mattress, her mouth falling open, a sharp gasp cutting through the room as the toy seats itself deep, buzzing furiously against her walls.

"Oh fuck," Ning breathes, her thighs snapping shut around the vibrator. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck."

"Don't you dare cum," Minjeong tells her, tapping her knee. "Not until I say." She turns away from Ning with the dismissive confidence of someone closing an app and moves to the center of the bed, positioning herself on all fours. Knees apart. Back arched. That narrow waist curving down into the swell of her ass, which is small and tight and perfectly round.

You settle behind her, one hand on her hip, and take a second to appreciate the view. Minjeong's pussy is swollen between her thighs, still flushed from the vibrator and the squirting, her arousal smeared across her inner thighs in glossy streaks. Her shoulder blades jut beneath her skin as she braces on her forearms. The knobs of her spine trace a delicate line down to the small of her back.

"Great ass," you tell her, and bring your palm down on her right cheek with a sharp crack. The sound rings through the bedroom and Minjeong jolts forward, a hiss escaping through her teeth, a pink handprint blooming on her skin before you've even pulled your hand away.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she mutters over her shoulder. "Now put it in."

You line yourself up and push into her. Different from Ning. Familiar. Minjeong's cunt is wetter than you've ever felt it, still pulsing from the orgasm she had standing above Ning, and she takes you easily, her body opening up around your shaft with practiced ease. She drops her head between her arms and lets out a long, satisfied exhale as you bottom out.

You grab her hips and start moving. Steady, calculated strokes, pulling back until just the tip catches at her entrance and then driving forward, burying yourself deep enough that your hips smack against her ass. Minjeong turns her head to look at Ning. The girl is a wreck already, barely two minutes in. Her wrists twist against the handcuffs, the chain clinking, her hips writhing against the mattress in tight, involuntary circles. The vibrator hums relentlessly inside her, and you can see the tension in her thighs, the way her muscles clench and release and clench again as she fights against the building pressure.

"Are you enjoying the show?" Minjeong asks her, rocking back against your thrusts. "Watching me take his cock while that toy fucks your needy little hole?"

Ning's eyes are locked on the place where your body meets Minjeong's. She watches your cock slide in and out, glistening, stretching Minjeong's pussy around the shaft, and her lips part around a shaky moan. "Yes."

"Of course you are. Horny little slut. Can't go five minutes without stimulation or you start falling apart." Minjeong pushes back against you harder, matching your rhythm, her ass meeting your pelvis with a wet slap on each stroke. "I bet you touch yourself every night in that apartment. Alone in bed with your fingers in your pussy, scrolling through filth on your phone."

Ning whimpers, squirming harder, the bell on her collar ringing with every movement. "Minjeong, you're so beautiful."

The compliment catches Minjeong off guard mid-thrust. Her composure flickers for a second, she pushes her hair out of her face and smiles back at Ning. "You're beautiful too," she says, soft enough to sound sincere. “The prettiest little kitten in the world.” Then she flips the switch: "Now shut up and watch me get fucked."

You grip Minjeong's waist tighter and increase the pace, driving into her with more force, the bed rocking beneath the three of you. Minjeong drops her chest to the mattress, arching her back deeper, changing the angle so you hit that spot inside her that makes her fingers claw at the sheets. Her moans are low and controlled, the sounds of someone who knows exactly what she likes and is getting exactly that.

Ning is losing it. Her legs press together around the vibrator, thighs trembling visibly, her abs clenching in rapid spasms. Sweat glistens on her chest and stomach, mixing with the drying residue of everything that's already been spilled on her tonight. Her breathing has gone ragged, shallow, desperate little pants that hitch and stutter every few seconds. "Minjeong," she gasps. "I don't... I don't know how much longer I can hold on."

"You'll hold on as long as I tell you to hold on."

"Please. It's so much. It's right there, it's right there and I can't, I'm trying so hard to be good."

"Then try harder."

A tear spills down Ning's cheek, cutting a fresh track through the ruined mascara. Her whole body is shaking now, vibrating almost as intensely as the toy inside her, every muscle locked in a war between obedience and biology. You bring your palm down on Minjeong's ass again, lighter this time, playful, and she glances back at you over her shoulder. "You're being pretty mean to your new girlfriend."

"It's nothing. She needs to learn good manners from the start. You don't spoil a pet the first day you bring it home. You establish boundaries. You establish who's in charge." She clenches around you intentionally, her pussy gripping your shaft, and grins. "She'll thank me later."

Ning turns her tear-streaked face toward you. Those big, dark, beautiful eyes swimming with desperation, her lower lip trembling, the collar sitting snug against her throat with its little bell catching the light. She looks wrecked and gorgeous and absolutely at her limit.

"Please," she says to you, quiet and broken. "Please make her cum. Quickly. I can't hold it. Please, please, I'm begging you."

You look at those teary eyes and that quivering lip and your heart just squeezes. You lean forward over Minjeong's back, your mouth close to her ear. "No problem, princess."

You grab both of Minjeong's arms, pulling them back behind her. Her chest drops, her cheek pressing flat against the mattress, her spine bowing into a deep, sharp arch. She yelps at the sudden shift, her shoulders straining, her body completely at your mercy with her wrists locked in your grip behind her back.

You start fucking her hard. Not the measured strokes from before. This is punishing. Brutal. Your hips snap forward with everything you have, slamming into Minjeong's pussy. The slap of skin on skin is deafening, drowning out the buzz of the vibrator, drowning out the rattle of Ning's handcuffs. Minjeong's moans dissolve into sharp, staccato cries, each one punched out of her by the impact of your hips against her ass, her body jolting forward with every thrust and being yanked back by the grip on her wrists.

The bed creaks dangerously. Ning writhes beside you both, tears streaming freely now, her teeth sinking into her lower lip hard enough to leave marks, every ounce of her willpower focused on the single task of not letting go while the vibrator destroys her from the inside. Her thighs clamp together and release and clamp again, her hips bucking against nothing, the bell ringing wildly with every spasm.

And Minjeong, face pressed to the sheets, arms pinned behind her, being railed from behind with her new pet crying beside her and a bruise forming on her ass in the shape of your hand, lets out a breathless, broken laugh that's equal parts pleasure and disbelief.

"This isn't fair," Minjeong gasps into the mattress. "You two conspired against me. You plotted. This is a coup. This is a hostile takeover of my own bedroom and I won't..."

The rest of the sentence dies in her throat because you slam into her hard enough to shunt her forward on the bed, and what comes out instead is a moan so loud it fills every corner of the room. Her back arches impossibly deep, her shoulder blades pressing together, her fingers flexing uselessly in your grip.

"Say you love my dick."

"I'm not going to..." Another thrust. Her entire body shudders. "That's so... you can't just..."

You pull back to the tip and drive forward again, grinding deep, pressing against that spot inside her that turns her brain to static. Her thighs tremble violently. Her toes curl into the sheets. "Say it."

"I love your dick," she chokes out, and the words dissolve into a ragged moan that she buries in the mattress. "I love your dick, okay, I love it, it's so deep, fuck, I hate you both so much." You don't let up. Each stroke is full and punishing, your hips colliding with her ass, the wet slap of contact filling the bedroom alongside Ning's desperate whimpering and the relentless hum of the vibrator. Minjeong's pussy clenches around you in erratic pulses, her walls fluttering, her body winding tighter and tighter like a spring being cranked past its limit.

Her moans climb in pitch. Her knees slide wider apart on the sheets. She tries to say something (probably another complaint about fairness) but it comes out as nothing, just air and sound, her jaw hanging open, drool pooling on the mattress beneath her cheek. You feel the exact moment it starts. Her pussy locks around your cock in a vice grip, her whole body going rigid, and then the orgasm crashes through her.

She screams. Face down, arms restrained, pinned and filled and wrecked, Kim Minjeong screams into her own sheets while her cunt pulses around you in violent, rhythmic contractions. Her hips buck backwards, grinding against you, riding it out, her spine rolling in waves. You hold her wrists and stay buried deep while she comes apart, letting her pussy milk the length of your shaft through every spasm, every aftershock, every trembling pulse that ripples through her body for what feels like a solid thirty seconds.

When it subsides, you release her arms. They fall to the mattress like dead weight. Minjeong lies face down, breathing in shattered gasps, her skin flushed from her neck to her lower back. She turns her head to the side and blinks once, twice, refocusing on reality. "That," she pants, "was not fair."

"You enjoyed it."

"Irrelevant." She takes one more deep breath, then pushes herself up onto her elbows and looks at Ning. The girl is a disaster. Tears streaming, teeth clenched, every muscle in her body locked in a full-body tremor, the vibrator still buzzing mercilessly inside her. Her thighs are clamped together so tightly her legs are shaking, and her wrists have gone white where they strain against the cuffs. She looks like she's going to shatter.

Minjeong softens. Just a fraction. Just enough. "Okay, kitten. You can cum now."

Ning doesn't even process the words for a second. She stares at Minjeong with glazed, uncomprehending eyes, and then it registers, and then everything she's been holding back for the last ten minutes detonates at once.

Her back arches off the bed so hard the handcuffs wrench against the headboard with a metallic crack. Her mouth opens wide, a raw, wrecked scream tearing from her lungs, and her pussy clamps down on the vibrator and pushes it halfway out as she squirts. It's violent. A forceful gush of clear fluid that arcs from between her clenched thighs, soaking the sheets beneath her, splashing against her own legs, pooling in the creases of the mattress. Her entire body convulses, hips bucking off the bed in sharp, involuntary jerks, the bell on her collar ringing frantically.

Minjeong is right there. She reaches between Ning's legs and presses her palm flat against her pussy, rubbing in firm, circular strokes through the squirt, through the contractions, keeping the pressure steady while Ning convulses beneath her hand. "That's it. Let it all out. Give me everything."

Ning squirts again, a second wave that coats Minjeong's wrist and forearm in warm, slick fluid. Her screams dissolve into broken sobs, her body jerking and twitching, riding the orgasm far past the point of pleasure and into something overwhelming and raw. The vibrator buzzes against Minjeong's palm, trapped between her hand and Ning's pulsing cunt, and Ning's legs kick weakly at the soaked sheets.

When it finally subsides, Ning goes completely limp. Every muscle releases at once, like someone cut her strings. She sinks into the mattress, chest heaving, eyes unfocused, mouth slightly open, tears and sweat and mascara streaking her face. The bell rests silent against her throat for the first time in what feels like hours. She looks demolished. Thoroughly, comprehensively, beautifully ruined.

Minjeong pulls the vibrator out gently (Ning flinches, whimpers, then settles) and clicks it off. She sets it aside and reaches for the handcuffs, producing a small key from the nightstand drawer. She unlocks the left cuff first, then the right, and Ning's arms fall to the mattress like they've forgotten how to be arms. Red marks circle both wrists where the leather pressed into skin.

Minjeong lifts each wrist and presses her lips to the marks. Left, then right. Gentle kisses, barely there, tracing the indentations with her mouth. She doesn't say anything.

Then she stands. She crosses to the dresser and pulls open the top drawer (the one you mentioned to Ning earlier, the strap-on armory). She surveys her options for a moment, selects one with the casual authority of a sommelier choosing a bottle, and steps into the harness. It's matte black, sleek, the silicone cock attached to it a reasonable size (not the biggest in her collection, you know, but enough to make a point). She adjusts the straps around her hips and thighs with efficient movements, tightening buckles, checking the fit, as calm as someone tying their shoes.

She turns back toward the bed. Standing at the foot of it, naked except for the harness, the strap jutting from between her slim hips, hands resting loosely at her sides. She looks at Ning, still spread-eagled and trembling on the soaked sheets, and tilts her head.

"Come here, kitten." Ning lifts her head from the pillow. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused, still drifting somewhere between consciousness and the afterglow of the most intense orgasm of her life. She blinks at Minjeong. Processes the command. Processes the strap-on hanging between Minjeong's legs. Swallows hard. "Crawl."

Ning rolls onto her stomach. Her arms shake as she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees, the bell on her collar jingling with the effort. She's unsteady, swaying slightly, her limbs still trembling from the aftershocks. But she crawls. Slowly, carefully, across the ruined sheets, one hand in front of the other, knees sliding through the wet patches she left behind, moving toward Minjeong at the foot of the bed.

She stops in front of Minjeong. On her hands and knees at the edge of the mattress, eye level with the strap. The bell hangs beneath her chin, swaying gently. Her hair falls in messy curtains around her face. Minjeong reaches down and tilts Ning's chin up with two fingers. Studies her. The smeared makeup, the tear tracks, the swollen lips, the flush that extends from her cheeks down her neck and across her chest. The collar sitting snug against her throat. The faint red marks from the handcuffs circling her wrists.

"You smell like a whore," Minjeong tells her. "Like cum and sweat and pussy. Like someone who spent the last hour being used as a fuck toy by two people she barely knows. You reek of it."

Ning's lips tremble. She doesn't look away.

"Meow for me."

Ning meows. Soft, small, slightly hoarse from all the screaming, the sound catching in her raw throat. The bell jingles as her chin dips with the effort. Minjeong smiles. She strokes Ning's hair once, tucking a matted strand behind her ear. "See this?" She wraps her hand around the shaft of the strap and angles it toward Ning's face, the tip brushing her lower lip. "This is for you. Your job is to worship it. Not suck it, not blow it. Worship it. Like it's the most important thing in your world. Starting now."

Ning's lips part. She extends her tongue and touches it to the underside of the shaft, just below the head, and drags it slowly upward. Her eyes stay locked on Minjeong's. Wide, dark, still glistening with tears, unblinking. She licks a stripe from base to tip, then closes her lips around the head and sinks forward, taking the first few inches into her mouth with reverent, unhurried devotion. No gagging, no desperation. Slow. Her cheeks hollow gently as she sucks, her tongue working the underside, and she never once breaks eye contact with the woman standing above her.

Minjeong's hand settles on top of Ning's head, fingers threading into her damp, tangled hair. She watches her collared kitten worship the strap with an expression you've never seen on her before. Possession, tenderness, hunger, disbelief, all layered on top of each other. Her thumb traces circles on Ning's scalp. The bell chimes softly with each gentle bob of Ning's head. "Good girl," Minjeong whispers. "My good girl.”

Ning takes her time. Her tongue traces the ridge beneath the head of the strap, slowly, mapping the shape of it like she's memorizing every contour. She pulls back and presses her lips to the side of the shaft, kissing down toward the base where silicone meets harness, where she can smell Minjeong's skin underneath, the salt and musk of her. She kisses back up the other side, unhurried, devoted, and when she reaches the tip again she parts her lips and takes it in, sinking forward until her nose nearly touches Minjeong's pelvis.

The bell chimes softly with each subtle bob of her head. Her eyes never leave Minjeong's face. Minjeong watches with parted lips, one hand resting on top of Ning's head, fingers curled loosely in her hair. She's quiet for a while, just breathing, just watching, letting Ning set the pace. The strap pushes against the base plate with each stroke, transferring subtle pressure against Minjeong's clit, and every so often her eyelids flutter at the contact.

"You look so pretty with a cock in your mouth," Minjeong murmurs, brushing a strand of damp hair away from Ning's face. "Like you were designed for it."

Ning hums around the shaft, grateful, and takes it deeper. Spit is building around her lips, coating the silicone in a slick sheen, dripping from her chin in slow threads that land on the sheets between her hands.

Then Minjeong's grip tightens. Her fingers twist into a fist at the back of Ning's skull, and the gentle resting hand becomes something controlling. She holds Ning's head still and rolls her hips forward, pushing the strap deeper into Ning's mouth. A test. Ning gags slightly, her throat constricting, but she doesn't pull back. She breathes through her nose and relaxes her jaw and takes it.

"Good," Minjeong breathes. She pulls back and thrusts forward again, a little harder. "Stay right there."

She starts fucking Ning's throat. Slow at first, measured strokes that push the strap past Ning's tongue and into the tight resistance of her throat, holding for a beat, then withdrawing. Each thrust draws a thick, wet gurgling sound from Ning's mouth, saliva flooding around the shaft, bubbling at the corners of her lips. Minjeong increases the pace gradually, her hips finding a rhythm, her fist in Ning's hair controlling the angle and the depth.

Ning takes it. Her hands grip the edge of the mattress for balance, her collared throat working around the intrusion, her eyes streaming with reflexive tears that cut fresh tracks through the mess on her face. She gags and drools and keeps going, keeps her eyes locked on Minjeong's, keeps that expression of total, willing surrender even as spit runs freely down her chin and drips onto her chest.

You lean back against the headboard, watching, arms crossed. "This is really romantic."

Minjeong doesn't break her rhythm. She keeps her fist in Ning's hair and her hips rolling forward and glances at you over her shoulder. "It is, actually."

"Nothing says 'welcome to the building' like a strap down the throat."

"Before I can pamper her, I need to degrade her a little first. It's the process. Destruction and reconstruction. You have to tear something down before you can build it into what it's meant to be." She thrusts deep and holds Ning there, nose pressed against her pelvis, throat convulsing.

"Quite poetic."

"I get pretty poetic when there’s a beautiful, slutty girl sucking my big, thick cock." She releases Ning's head and the girl pulls back gasping, a thick bridge of spit stretching from her lips to the tip of the strap before it collapses onto her chin. Minjeong strokes her cheek with the back of her hand.

She grabs Ning's hair again and pulls her back onto the strap. Harder this time, faster, her hips pumping with real force, using Ning's mouth like it exists for this singular purpose. The sounds are filthy. Wet, choking, guttural. Ning's throat bulges with each deep stroke, her body lurching forward. She gags violently and spit erupts around the shaft, coating Minjeong's thighs, running in thick ropes down Ning's neck and between her collarbones.

Minjeong keeps going. She fucks Ning's face with the detached focus of someone working through a task, her jaw set, her breathing steady, only the flush across her chest betraying how much this is doing for her. The base plate grinds against her clit with every thrust and she absorbs each pulse of pleasure without changing expression.

Then she stops. Pulls the strap out completely. Steps back.

Ning stays on her hands and knees, head hanging, chest heaving. She's destroyed. Saliva covers the entire lower half of her face, her neck, her collarbones. It's dripped down onto her tits and stomach, mixing with the dried residue of everything else that's been on her tonight. Her lips are swollen and raw, her mascara has migrated to her temples, and she's trembling from head to toe.

"Open your mouth," Minjeong says. Ning tilts her face up and opens wide. Tongue out, lips stretched, the bell resting in the puddle of drool at the hollow of her throat. Minjeong leans forward and spits. A thick glob that lands directly on Ning's tongue. It sits there, glistening, and Ning holds perfectly still, mouth open, waiting. "Swallow."

Ning closes her mouth and swallows. Her throat bobs once. She opens her mouth again to show it's gone.

"Perfect little drain." Minjeong traces Ning's jawline with her fingertip, tilting her head side to side like she's inspecting merchandise. "Tell me something, kitten. Have you ever been fucked in the ass?"

The question catches her off guard. The empty, obedient look breaks, and a timid, almost girlish shyness surfaces. Her blush deepens and she lowers her gaze to the bed. "Only twice," she admits quietly.

Minjeong's palm connects with Ning's cheek. Not hard enough to snap her head, but sharp enough that the crack rings through the room and a pink handprint blooms on Ning's skin. Ning's eyes go wide, her mouth falling open in a surprised little gasp, the bell jingling from the impact.

"Dirty little slut," Minjeong says evenly. "Acting all shy and innocent with your 'only twice.' You’re disgusting… and you know it. Only twice. Like a normal person's answer to that question isn't zero." She grabs Ning's chin and forces her to make eye contact. "But that's good. It means we can skip the boring part. Your greedy little asshole already knows how to open up for cock."

She releases Ning's chin and looks at you. That look. Commanding, certain, the look that turns her from a five-foot-nothing disaster lesbian into someone you'd follow off a cliff. "Get the lube."

You roll off the bed and cross to the dresser. Second drawer, left side, behind the silicone cleaning spray. You know where she keeps it because you've been here enough times to navigate this room blindfolded. You grab the bottle (water-based, good quality, Minjeong doesn't cheap out on essentials) and turn back toward the bed.

The position has already changed. Minjeong is lying on her back in the center of the mattress, the strap pointing straight up from between her hips. Ning is climbing on top of her, straddling her waist, their bodies pressing together. Ning's hands brace on either side of Minjeong's head. The bell dangles between them, brushing Minjeong's collarbone. Their faces are inches apart.

Minjeong reaches down and positions the head of the strap against Ning's entrance. Not inside. Just there. Resting against her slit, the tip nudging between her swollen lips. Ning's hips rock forward instinctively, trying to sink down, and Minjeong grabs her waist to stop her. "Not yet," she whispers. "Wait for it."

You climb onto the bed behind them, lube in hand. From this angle, Ning's ass is presented to you, round and full and perfect, the curve of it framing the view of Minjeong's strap pressed against her pussy below. Her thighs are spread wide across Minjeong's hips. Everything is on display.

Minjeong peers around Ning's shoulder at you, her expression calm and focused and completely in control of every variable in this room. "Get her ready.”

You pop the cap on the lube and squeeze a generous amount onto your fingers. It pools in your palm, clear and slick, and you start at the curve of Ning's ass, spreading it across both cheeks in slow strokes. Your palms glide over the full roundness of her, kneading gently, working the lube into her skin until it gleams under the lamplight. She shifts on top of Minjeong, her thighs tightening around the other girl's hips, and you feel the muscles in her glutes tense under your hands.

"Cold," Ning murmurs, a tremor running through her.

"I know,” Minjeong says. “Give it a second."

You bring your slicked fingers to the cleft of her ass and slide downward, finding the tight ring of muscle between her cheeks. You circle it slowly with the pad of your index finger, spreading the lubricant around the rim, letting her body register the sensation before you ask anything of it. Ning's breathing changes. Her shoulders hunch forward, her forehead dropping against Minjeong's collarbone, and beneath her you can see Minjeong's hand come up to stroke her hair.

You press the tip of your finger against her entrance. Gentle, patient pressure, not forcing, just resting there, letting the muscle relax on its own terms. It takes a few seconds. You feel the tension gradually release, the ring softening, and your fingertip slips inside to the first knuckle. Ning exhales shakily against Minjeong's chest. "There you go," you say quietly. "Just relax."

You work your finger deeper, inch by inch, feeling the heat of her, the tight grip of her walls around the digit. She's tense but yielding, her body fighting its own instincts and slowly winning. You pull back and push in again, a little deeper, establishing a gentle rhythm. When she's comfortable with one finger, you add a second, scissoring them apart carefully, stretching her open with methodical patience. Ning whimpers into Minjeong's neck, her hips rocking back against your hand in tiny, involuntary movements.

"She likes it," Minjeong observes from below, watching your fingers disappear into Ning's ass. Her free hand traces lazy patterns on Ning's spine. "Look at her pushing back onto your fingers. Greedy even here."

You work her for another minute, making sure she's properly relaxed, properly slicked. Then you withdraw your fingers and squeeze more lube onto your palm, wrapping your fist around your cock and stroking it from base to tip until the entire shaft glistens. You wipe the excess across Ning's entrance one more time for good measure.

You position yourself behind Ning, one hand on her hip, the other guiding your cock to her ass. The head presses against the ring of muscle, warm and slick, and you hold there. "Tell me if it hurts," you say. "Or if you need me to slow down. Any time."

Ning nods against Minjeong's chest, her fingers gripping the sheets on either side of Minjeong's shoulders.

"He likes you a lot," Minjeong tells Ning softly, brushing her lips against Ning's temple. "He's not usually this gentle."

Ning turns her head, catching your eye over her shoulder. "You're very thoughtful."

"Someone here has to be," you reply, glancing at Minjeong.

"Excuse me, I am extremely thoughtful. I gave her a collar."

You push forward. Slowly. The head of your cock meets resistance and you maintain steady pressure, not thrusting, just leaning into it, letting her body decide the pace. The ring stretches around the tip, tight and gripping, and Ning's breath catches. Her fingers dig into the mattress. You pause.

"Keep going," she whispers.

You push deeper. The same patience you used with your fingers, feeding your cock into the impossibly tight heat of her ass while her body opens for you in gradual, reluctant increments. She's burning hot inside, tighter than anything, and the pressure around your shaft is almost overwhelming. You grit your teeth and go slow, watching the place where your body meets hers, watching her stretch around you.

Beneath her, Minjeong reaches down and guides the strap to Ning's pussy. She tilts her hips and pushes upward, and the head of the silicone cock slides between Ning's swollen lips and into her cunt at the same moment that you sink another inch into her ass.

Ning releases a guttural, fractured cry that wavers between a sob and a moan, her muscles locking as both holes fill simultaneously. Her mouth opens against Minjeong's collarbone and she just breathes, fast and shallow, processing the fullness.

"Oh my god," she chokes out. "Oh my god, I can feel both of you. I can feel everything."

"Breathe," Minjeong tells her, cupping the back of her head. "Just breathe, kitten."

You hold still, buried halfway in Ning's ass, giving her time. Minjeong holds still beneath her, the strap seated partway in her pussy. The three of you exist in a suspended moment of absolute fullness, nobody moving, just breathing together, letting Ning's body adjust to being stretched in two places at once.

Then Ning rolls her hips. Barely perceptible, just a tiny rocking motion, testing, and the sensation ripples through all three of you. You feel the shift in pressure as the strap moves inside her pussy, separated from your cock by only a thin wall of tissue, and the indirect contact through her body sends a jolt through your shaft that makes your jaw clench.

"More," Ning whispers. You push the rest of the way in. Slow, steady, until your hips press flush against her ass. At the same time, Minjeong rocks upward, seating the strap fully in Ning's cunt. Ning is pinned between the two of you, every inch of both holes filled, her small body stretched and stuffed and sandwiched between your chest and Minjeong's. "Fuck," Ning breathes. "Fuck, that's so much. It's so much."

"Too much?" you ask.

"No. Don't stop. Don't you dare stop."

You start to move. Slow, careful, pulling back a few inches and pressing forward again. Minjeong finds a counter-rhythm beneath you both, thrusting upward as you withdraw, so that Ning is never empty, always full of one of you, the two cocks alternating inside her in a steady, rocking cadence. The thin membrane separating your shaft from the strap means you can feel every stroke Minjeong makes, a firm pressure sliding against you through Ning's body, and the sensation is dizzying.

Ning is lost. Her face is buried in Minjeong's neck, her hips moving in helpless, undulating waves between the two of you, taking each thrust from behind and each upstroke from below. The bell on her collar chimes with every rock of her body. Her moans are continuous now, not sharp peaks but a sustained, low, trembling sound that vibrates in her chest.

"Can you feel him in your ass while I'm in your pussy?" Minjeong murmurs against Ning's ear, her hips rolling in smooth, controlled strokes. "Can you feel both of us moving inside you at the same time? Filling you up from both sides?"

"Yes," Ning gasps. "I feel everything. I feel you rubbing against each other through me. It's so full, I've never been this full, I can't think."

"You don't need to think. I told you that already. Thinking is not what you're here for." Minjeong thrusts upward, sharp, and Ning cries out. "You're here to take two cocks at once like the greedy little hole you are and say thank you when we're done."

You increase your pace slightly, your strokes lengthening, pulling back further before pushing in. Ning's ass grips you with every movement, the lube making the slide smooth but the tightness still staggering, her body clenching and releasing around your shaft in rhythmic pulses that sync with Minjeong's thrusts below. You grip Ning's hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples at the base of her spine, and settle into a steady, driving tempo.

"Look at her taking it," Minjeong says, and there's genuine awe underneath the domination. She cranes her neck to look past Ning's shoulder at you, watching your cock disappear into Ning's ass on every stroke. "Both holes stuffed and she's still begging for more. I knew it. I knew the second I saw her that she was built for this."

Ning whimpers in response, her nails scratching at the sheets beside Minjeong's head. Her back arches, pressing her chest harder against Minjeong's, their nipples sliding together with each thrust. The position keeps her pinned, unable to control anything, unable to set the pace, simply trapped between two bodies that are using her in tandem. And she loves it. Every line of her body broadcasts it, the way she pushes back onto you, the way she grinds down onto Minjeong, the way her moans have taken on a pitch that borders on delirium.

You lean forward, changing the angle, and Ning screams. Your cock hits deeper, pressing against spots that make her entire body jolt, and at the same time Minjeong adjusts beneath her, angling the strap upward, finding her g-spot through her front wall. Ning is caught between the two points of pressure, her body jerking and spasming.

"That's our good kitten," Minjeong coos, holding Ning's trembling body against hers, one hand in her hair, the other gripping her ass, pulling her cheeks apart so you can thrust deeper. "Taking both her owners so well. So stretched. So full. So perfectly, obscenely stuffed. Now mark her," she says, looking past Ning's shoulder at you. "I want prints on her."

You bring your palm down on Ning's right cheek. The crack splits the air and Ning yelps, her whole body clenching, her ass tightening around your cock so hard your vision blurs for a second. A pink handprint blooms on her skin, vivid against the pale flesh.

"Again," Minjeong orders. "Leave her tight little ass completely red. I want it glowing."

You smack her left cheek. Then the right again. Then the left. Each impact sends a shockwave through Ning's body that you feel in the grip of her ass around your shaft, each clench followed by a release that lets you thrust deeper. Her skin flushes from pink to angry red, overlapping handprints layering on top of each other until both cheeks are burning, swollen, marked in a way that's going to last for days.

Ning screams into Minjeong's neck with every slap, her body jolting forward, then rocking back onto your cock like she's chasing the sting. "Tell me what you are," Minjeong demands. She grabs a fistful of Ning's hair and pulls her head up, forcing her face out of hiding. "Loud. So I can hear it."

"I'm a whore," Ning shouts. Her face is streaked with fresh tears, mascara long gone, nothing left but raw skin and swollen lips and wild, desperate eyes. "I'm a dirty little whore."

"The neighbors are going to hear you screaming that."

"I don't care." Ning's hips grind back against you, then forward onto Minjeong, her body working between the two cocks with frantic, shameless need. "I don't care if they hear. I want everyone to know. I want the whole building to know I'm a whore. That Minjeong is my owner. That I belong to her."

Minjeong's hand slides from Ning's hair to her throat. Not squeezing, not choking. Just holding. Her fingers wrap around the column of Ning's neck, feeling the collar beneath her palm, the bell pressing into the webbing between her thumb and index finger. She tilts Ning's face down until their eyes meet.

"Look at me," Minjeong says. Quiet now, almost tender. "Don't close your eyes. Don't look away. I want you to cum while you're looking at me. I want to see it happen."

Ning's gaze locks onto Minjeong's. Inches apart, sharing breath, Minjeong's hand steady on her throat. The bell is trapped between Minjeong's fingers and Ning's skin, silent for the first time.

You fuck her harder. Deep, punishing strokes into her ass, each one landing with a wet smack against her reddened cheeks, your fingers digging into her bruised hips. Minjeong thrusts upward in counterpoint, the strap filling Ning's pussy on every alternating beat, the two of you working her body in a relentless, coordinated rhythm that leaves her nowhere to go, nothing to do except take it and feel it and fall apart.

Ning's lips start trembling. Her breathing fractures into staccato bursts, each exhale a whimper, each inhale a gasp. Her thighs shake uncontrollably against Minjeong's hips. Her fingers claw at the sheets, the mattress, Minjeong's shoulders, anything she can reach. The tension builds visibly in her body, every muscle drawing taut, her stomach clenching, her jaw tightening, her eyes going glassy and unfocused even as she fights to keep them locked on Minjeong's face.

"That's it," Minjeong whispers, her thumb stroking the side of Ning's throat. "Right there. Let go for me. Let me see it." It hits her from both directions at once. You feel it in her ass first, a clamping, rhythmic contraction that grips your cock so tight you have to grit your teeth, her muscles spasming in rapid pulses. Then Minjeong gasps beneath her as Ning's pussy does the same thing around the strap, both holes clenching simultaneously in waves that roll through her body like seismic aftershocks.

Ning's mouth opens. No sound comes out for a full two seconds. Her back arches, rigid, suspended between the two of you, every tendon in her neck standing out beneath Minjeong's hand. Then the scream comes. Low at first, building, ragged and destroyed and raw, her eyes never leaving Minjeong's face even as her body convulses between them. Tears spill freely down her cheeks. Her hips jerk and stutter in helpless, broken movements. Fluid gushes from around the strap, soaking Minjeong's thighs and the sheets beneath them.

The orgasm goes on and on. Each time you think it's subsiding, another wave hits her, another contraction grips you, another cry tears from her throat. Minjeong holds her gaze through all of it, steady and anchoring, her hand warm and firm on Ning's throat, grounding her through the most intense thing her body has ever experienced.

When it finally ends, Ning collapses. Completely, boneless, every ounce of energy drained, her full weight dropping onto Minjeong's chest. Her cheek presses against Minjeong's collarbone. Her eyes close. Her breathing is ragged, hitching, edging toward sobs. Minjeong wraps both arms around her. Pulls her close. One hand cradles the back of her head, fingers threading gently through her tangled, sweat-damp hair. The other rests flat between her shoulder blades, palm warm against her spine. She presses her lips to Ning's temple and holds them there.

"Good girl," she murmurs into Ning's hair. "Such a good girl. My perfect little kitten. You did so well. I'm so proud of you."

Ning makes a small, broken sound against Minjeong's chest. Her fingers curl weakly into the sheets beside Minjeong's ribs, holding on. You pull out of Ning slowly, carefully, and her body shudders once at the withdrawal. Her reddened ass bears overlapping handprints in various shades of crimson, the skin hot to the touch. You sit back and exhale.

"I'm close," you tell Minjeong.

She looks at you over Ning's shoulder. "Stand up."

You climb off the bed, your feet finding the floor, and stand at the edge of the mattress. Minjeong gently lifts Ning off her chest, easing her upward, pressing kisses to her forehead, her cheek, the tip of her nose.

"One more thing, kitten." She strokes Ning's face. "Can you kneel for me? On the floor?"

Ning blinks, still dazed, still trembling in the afterglow. She nods faintly. Minjeong helps her to the edge of the bed and Ning slides off, her knees finding the carpet, settling into that familiar position. On the floor, between your legs, looking up at you and Minjeong with glazed, wrecked, adoring eyes. The collar gleams at her throat. Minjeong slips off the bed and kneels beside her, one arm draped around Ning's shoulders, both of them looking up at you from the floor.

"Now," Minjeong says, settling beside Ning on her knees, one arm still draped protectively across her shoulders, "my kitten gets her reward." She looks up at you, then at Ning, then at your cock standing hard and slick inches from both their faces. "Warm milk. All over that pretty face and tongue." She runs her fingertip along Ning's jaw, turning her head to face your shaft. "You must be starving, baby. You've worked so hard tonight. Been such a good little pet. So you're going to suck that cock until he gives you every drop. And I'm going to help."

Minjeong leans forward first. Her lips close around the head of your cock, warm and soft, her tongue swirling once before she pulls back and guides Ning in. Ning's mouth replaces hers, those swollen, raw lips stretching around your shaft, taking you halfway in a single smooth stroke. She bobs twice, sloppy and eager, spit already building, and then pulls back as Minjeong moves in again.

They find a rhythm. Ning takes you deep while Minjeong's tongue works the base, licking the underside of your shaft where Ning's lips can't reach. Then they switch. Minjeong sucks the head while Ning drops lower, pressing her mouth against your balls, her tongue dragging across the sensitive skin, taking one into her mouth and sucking gently while Minjeong bobs above her.

Then their mouths meet at the tip. Ning's tongue presses flat against one side of the head, Minjeong's against the other, and they lick upward in unison, their tongues meeting at the slit, sliding against each other with your cock trapped between them. The contact dissolves into a kiss. Minjeong's hand cups the back of Ning's head and they kiss around the head of your cock, tongues tangling together, lips brushing the sensitive ridge, spit and precum smearing between their mouths in a connected, glistening mess. The bell on Ning's collar chimes softly as she tilts her head to deepen the angle.

"You two are perfect together," you manage.

Minjeong breaks the kiss and looks up at you, a strand of spit connecting her lip to Ning's. She smiles. Then she turns to Ning and presses one last, lingering kiss against her mouth. Slow, tender, her thumb stroking Ning's cum-stained cheek. "I want the best seat in the house for this," she murmurs against Ning's lips.

She stands. Her bare feet pad around behind you and you feel her chest press against your back, her chin hooking over your shoulder, her arms winding around your torso from behind. One hand slides down your stomach and wraps around your cock, slick from both their mouths, her grip firm, practiced and exactly right.

Below you, Ning kneels alone. She tilts her face up, mouth open, the collar gleaming, and extends her tongue to press against your frenulum. Just the tip of her tongue, light, flickering, the most sensitive spot on your entire body being teased with delicate, maddening precision while Minjeong's fist works the shaft from behind.

"Look at her," Minjeong whispers against your ear, her breath hot on your neck. "Look at that face. That gorgeous, ruined, perfect face. Mascara destroyed. Lips swollen. And she's kneeling there begging for more. She deserves to be painted. She deserves every single drop you've got."

Her hand strokes you steadily, twisting slightly at the top, her thumb swiping over the head on each upstroke before Ning's tongue catches the underside again. Minjeong's other hand rests on your hip, her nails pressing lightly into your skin.

"Imagine what she's going to look like," Minjeong continues, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Thick ropes of cum across those cheekbones. Dripping off her chin. Pooling on that pretty tongue. Sliding down to the collar. My collared little cum dump covered in you while I watch."

Ning's tongue flutters against the frenulum and she pulls back just enough to speak, her lips still brushing the head of your cock. "Please. I want it. I've been good, I've been so good tonight, please give it to me. I want to taste it. I want to feel it land on me."

"Hear that?" Minjeong's hand quickens. Her strokes tighten, pumping your shaft with urgent, focused precision, her wrist snapping on the downstroke. "Your little kitten is begging. She's starving for it. Starving for your cum on her pretty face."

Ning opens wider, her tongue extended as far as it'll go, flat and waiting. "Please, please, please. Cum on me. Cover me. I'll swallow everything, I'll lick it all up, please, I need it."

"Give it to her," Minjeong breathes. "Cum all over her fucking face. Do it. Now."

"I'm close," you grit out, your abs clenching, your thighs locking.

Ning stays perfectly still, kneeling, tongue out, eyes open, looking up at you with those glassy, adoring, wrecked eyes. Minjeong aims your cock directly at her face from behind your hip, angling the head downward, her grip controlling exactly where every drop is going to land.

You break. The first rope fires thick and hot across Ning's cheek, a white streak from the corner of her mouth to her temple. Ning flinches at the impact and then holds still, mouth open wider, and the second shot lands directly on her tongue, heavy and warm, pooling in the center. Minjeong doesn't stop stroking. Her fist milks your shaft in relentless, squeezing pumps, coaxing everything out of you, and the third rope catches Ning's forehead, dripping down the bridge of her nose. The fourth hits her chin and slides down to the collar, catching in the leather, dripping off the bell. The fifth and sixth are weaker, oozing from the tip, and Minjeong aims them across Ning's lips, painting them white, smearing the head of your cock across her mouth to spread the last traces.

"Oh fuck," Minjeong exhales against your shoulder, watching her handiwork. "Look at that. Look at her. She's covered. She's absolutely covered."

Ning kneels there, face glazed, tongue still extended with a thick pool of cum sitting in the center. It streaks across her features like abstract art, white against flushed skin, dripping slowly down the contours of her face, following the paths of the dried tears and mascara tracks. The collar glistens with it. A drop hangs from the bell, catching the light before it falls.

Minjeong pushes your cock forward, guiding the sensitive, spent head between Ning's lips. "Clean him up, kitten."

Ning closes her mouth around the tip and sucks gently. You shudder, every nerve ending screaming with oversensitivity, your hands gripping Minjeong's arm around your waist for stability. Ning's tongue swirls around the head, dipping into the slit, coaxing the last remnants of cum from you with patient, thorough attention. She sucks and licks and swallows, her throat bobbing, until there's nothing left and your cock is clean and twitching in her mouth.

She releases you with a soft, wet sound and looks up, waiting. Cum still covers most of her face, drying at the edges, fresh and wet in the center. Minjeong steps out from behind you and kneels in front of Ning. She takes Ning's face in both hands, cupping her jaw, tilting her head left, then right, examining her. Her thumbs rest on Ning's cheekbones, framing the mess, and a slow, reverent smile spreads across her face. "Perfect," she whispers. "You're absolutely perfect."

She leans in and presses her tongue flat against Ning's forehead. The first lick drags through the streak of cum there, collecting it. She pulls back, swallows, and goes in again. Across Ning's temple, where the first rope landed, her tongue tracing the line from hairline to cheekbone, gathering every trace. Ning's eyes close. A soft, contented sigh escapes her as Minjeong's tongue moves down to her cheek, lapping at the thick smear there with long, patient strokes, cleaning the skin beneath to a flushed, spit-shined pink.

Minjeong works methodically. She licks across the bridge of Ning's nose, down the other cheek, along her jawline where a trickle has dried. Her tongue finds the corner of Ning's mouth and traces the crease where cum has settled into her smile lines. She licks Ning's chin clean, her tongue pressing into the soft dip beneath her lower lip, following the trail down to the collar where the last drops cling to leather and metal. She licks the collar itself, her tongue running along the strap, over the surface of the bell, tasting salt, cum and Ning's skin all at once.

Ning stays still through all of it, eyes closed, face tilted up, surrendering to the sensation of being cleaned by the woman who owns her. Small tremors run through her body. Her hands rest limp in her lap. When Minjeong finishes, Ning's face is clean. Flushed and raw and still marked with the ghosts of mascara, but clean.

Minjeong tilts Ning's cleaned face toward hers and kisses her. Her mouth opens, and you watch the moment Ning realizes what's happening. Minjeong is pushing the collected cum from her own tongue into Ning's mouth, feeding it to her in a slow transfer. Ning makes a small, surprised sound and then melts into it, her hand finding Minjeong's and their fingers lacing together on Ning's bare thigh. They stay like that for a long moment, mouths connected, sharing the taste between them, Ning swallowing in small pulses while Minjeong's thumb strokes circles against the back of her hand.

When they finally break apart, Ning licks her lips and Minjeong presses her forehead against hers, both of them breathing, both of them quiet. You sit on the edge of the bed. The room is wrecked. The sheets are wrecked. Everyone in the room is wrecked.

"That," you say to the ceiling, "was a very intense night."

"Understatement," Minjeong murmurs, still forehead-to-forehead with Ning.

Ning lets out a shaky exhale that's half laugh, half disbelief. "Everything happened so fast. Like, two hours ago I was looking for my keys."

"And now look at you."

"Please don't make me look at me right now." Ning shifts on her knees, winces, and glances toward the hallway. "Can we take a bath? I need... water. Hot water. On my body. Immediately."

"Yeah," you agree.

"Absolutely," Minjeong says, finally pulling back from Ning's face. She stands, offering Ning both hands, and Ning takes them.

Getting up is a process. Her legs wobble on the first attempt, her knees buckling, and Minjeong catches her around the waist with a steadiness that suggests she's done post-sex stabilization before (she has, for you, twice). Ning finds her footing on the second try, standing on shaking legs, one hand gripping Minjeong's shoulder.

Minjeong looks back at the bed. The sheets are destroyed. Soaked through in multiple overlapping patches of various fluids, twisted into ropes at the corners where someone (everyone) was gripping them, the fitted sheet pulled halfway off the mattress. A pillow has migrated to the floor. The handcuffs dangle from the headboard slat, still open. The smeared remnants of red lipstick have transferred onto the fabric in abstract streaks. The lube bottle is on its side, cap off, a small puddle forming on the nightstand.

"I'm going to have to replace literally everything. The sheets, the mattress protector, possibly the mattress. This looks like a crime scene."

"A fun crime scene," you offer.

Ning looks down at herself and goes very still. Her stomach is sticky with dried residue (sweat, spit, squirt, cum, all mixed together in various combinations). The ghost of the lipstick letters still clings to her skin in faded red traces. Her knees are raw and red from the carpet, the skin irritated and tender. She turns slightly and cranes her neck to look at her own ass, and her eyes go wide. "Oh my god."

It's crimson. Both cheeks overlapping with handprints in varying shades of red, some of them clearly defined (fingers, palm, thumb) and others just general swelling from repeated impact.

"Oh my god," Ning repeats, touching her own cheek gingerly and flinching. "That's so red."

Minjeong's dominance evaporates instantly, she rushes over and examines the marks with careful fingers, barely touching, her brow furrowed. "Are you okay? I have a really good moisturizing cream, it's the one with shea butter and aloe, I can put it on your knees and your... everything after the bath. It helps with inflammation."

"I'm fine." Ning gives her a lopsided smile. "Just a little sore. Everywhere. In places I didn't know could be sore."

Minjeong takes her hand and leads her down the hallway to the bathroom, walking slowly, matching Ning's careful pace. You follow. The bathroom is small but clean (the cleanest room in the apartment at this point, by default). Ning catches her reflection in the mirror above the sink and stops dead. She stares at herself.

The mascara is gone. Not removed. Migrated. It's spread across her temples, under her eyes, down her cheeks in dried tracks that map every tear she shed tonight. Her foundation is patchy and streaked. Her lipstick dissolved hours ago. Her hair is a tangled, matted disaster. The collar still sits around her throat. Faint red marks circle both wrists from the handcuffs. Her entire body from the neck down glistens with a cocktail of everything the three of you produced tonight. "Holy shit," Ning whispers at her own reflection. "You two really used me."

Minjeong, standing behind Ning, locks eyes with you in the mirror. She's trying not to freak out. Trying so hard. Her lips are pressed together, her nostrils are flared, and her hand reaches out and grabs your bicep in a death grip, her nails digging in. She squeezes your arm so hard you almost yelp, and behind Ning's back she's suppressing a grin so enormous it looks physically painful to contain.

You give her a subtle nod. She releases your arm (there will be half-moon nail marks there tomorrow) and composes herself. Minjeong turns the shower on. She adjusts the handle, testing the temperature with her wrist, nudging it warmer until steam starts curling against the glass, then helps Ning step in first. Ning moves under the stream and the hot water hits her shoulders and she lets out a groan of relief that borders on spiritual. The collar's bell catches the water and glints.

"Should I take this off?" Ning asks, touching it.

"Only if you want to."

Ning considers. "I'll keep it on."

Minjeong's face does the thing again (the barely suppressed joy, the disbelief) and she steps in behind Ning, pressing close under the spray. You get in last, and the three of you fit in the shower the way three adults fit in a standard shower stall, which is to say barely, with a lot of rotating and someone always catching an elbow and everyone taking turns directly under the water.

Minjeong washes Ning. Carefully. She squeezes eucalyptus wash onto a soft cloth and runs it over Ning's shoulders in slow, gentle strokes, working down her arms, across her chest, rinsing each section under the stream before moving to the next. She handles the raw spots (knees, wrists, the reddened cheeks of her ass) with extra tenderness, barely any pressure, just warm water and soft fabric. When she gets to Ning's hair, she reaches for a specific bottle on the shelf. You recognize it immediately.

"Is that the expensive shampoo?"

Minjeong doesn't look at you. "Maybe."

"The one you specifically told me I'm never allowed to use?"

"It's for her hair type."

"My hair has a type too, Minjeong."

"Your hair has the type of 'use the two-in-one like everyone else.'" She squeezes a generous amount into her palm and begins working it through Ning's hair, massaging her scalp with her fingertips. Ning practically purrs under the attention, her eyes closed, her body leaning back into Minjeong's hands, the hot water rinsing the suds down her back in slow cascades.

After the shower, Minjeong wraps Ning in the fluffiest bathrobe in the apartment. She sits Ning on the closed toilet lid and dries her hair with a blow dryer, one hand running through the strands while the other directs the warm air, sectioning and smoothing with the attention of a salon professional.

You lean against the doorframe, towel around your waist, watching this. "I've never received this level of service."

"And you never will. Be grateful I'm still willing to give you water."

"Noted."

Once Ning's hair is dry and soft and falling in clean waves around her face, you and Minjeong put on some clothes, then she leads Ning to the kitchen.

"Tea," she announces, filling the kettle. "After all that, we need tea."

"You're so Korean," you say.

"And you're so annoying. What do you want?"

"Mint."

Minjeong looks at Ning, who has settled onto a kitchen stool with the careful movements of someone whose entire lower body is filing complaints. "Chamomile, please."

With the calm precision of habit, Minjeong fixes three cups. She opens a cabinet and pulls out a tin of butter cookies, the classic round one straight out of a grandmother’s kitchen, then sets it down on the counter.

The three of you drink tea and eat cookies in the kitchen of apartment 69 at (you check the microwave clock) eleven forty-seven on a weeknight. Ning is in a fluffy bathrobe with a collar and bell around her neck. Minjeong is in an old t-shirt and fresh shorts. You're in your jeans and nothing else.

Minjeong wraps both hands around her mug. Stares into the tea. Takes a breath. "So, Ning."

"So, Minjeong."

"Would you... do you want to go on a date with me? Tomorrow?" She says it quickly, her eyes fixed on the surface of her chamomile. "Like, dinner. Or coffee. Or whatever you want. Something normal. Where we wear clothes and sit across from each other and talk."

Ning smiles. "I'd really like that."

Minjeong exhales. You watch the tension drain from her shoulders in real time, weeks of anxiety dissolving in a single sentence.

Ning shakes her head slowly, laughing at herself.

"I still can't believe I did all that. With two people I barely knew three hours ago. I'm... I mean, I was going to watch Gossip Girl. I was going to make instant ramen and watch Gossip Girl and go to sleep at midnight like a normal person. And instead I got..." She gestures at everything: the collar, the bathrobe, the cookie in her hand, the entire trajectory of the evening.

"Any regrets?" Minjeong asks.

"Zero. Absolutely zero." Ning dunks her cookie in her tea and takes a bite. "I'm just realizing I might be a much more adventurous person than I thought."

Minjeong nibbles the edge of her own cookie. "I hope it wasn't too much. For a first time. I know I can be... a lot. I was so excited and nervous simultaneously and when I get like that I tend to just go and go and go and I should have checked in more and..."

"Minjeong."

"Yeah?"

"It was too much. But in the best way. Like, you took sex and turned it into something I didn't know existed. I didn't know it could feel like that. I didn't know I could feel like that."

Minjeong stares at her cookie with an expression of concentrated joy that she's trying very hard to play cool about. Ning takes another sip of chamomile, and then, very quietly, looking at the counter rather than at either of you, says, "Also, I think I want to try having two... you know. Both of you. In the same... in one..." She trails off. Covers her face with both hands. The bell jingles. "Oh my god, I can't believe I'm saying this out loud. Both of you at the same time. In my pussy. Together." She peeks through her fingers. "I think I might die if that actually happened, but I want to try."

Minjeong is gripping her mug so hard her knuckles are white. "We can absolutely make that happen. Yeah."

"But more than anything," Ning continues, setting her tea down. She reaches across the counter and takes Minjeong's hand, threading their fingers together slowly. "I want to get to know you better." She rubs her thumb across Minjeong's knuckles. "When I first moved in, you were this mystery to me. The girl from 69 who I'd catch glimpses of in the hallway and then she'd just... vanish. I kept thinking, is she shy? Does she hate me? Is she a ghost? I genuinely considered the ghost option for a minute."

Minjeong opens her mouth to respond and nothing comes out.

"I'd listen for your door," Ning admits. "I'd hear it open and I'd rush to my peephole hoping to catch you leaving so I could time my exit and accidentally run into you. And every single time, by the time I got my shoes on, you were gone."

"I move fast when I'm panicking," Minjeong says quietly.

"I figured that out tonight." Ning squeezes her hand. "I started thinking maybe I'd never get to talk to you. That you'd just be this beautiful, weird, untouchable person two doors down who I'd think about way more than was reasonable. And now I'm sitting in your kitchen wearing your bathrobe and your collar and I know what sound you make when you cum, but I don't know your favorite movie. Or what makes you laugh. Or what you eat for breakfast. And I want all of that. Every boring, normal detail.”

They look at each other across the kitchen counter, and the bell chimes once as Ning leans in, and they kiss. Gentle, slow, tasting like chamomile and butter cookies.

You finish your mint tea. Set the mug in the sink. Pick up the last cookie from the tin and take a bite. "I'm going to head out," you say. "You two have a lot to talk about."

Minjeong breaks the kiss and stands from her stool. She walks over to you and takes your hand in both of hers, squeezing. "Thank you," she says. "For real. This wouldn't have happened without you. I'd still be hiding behind that plant if you hadn't dragged me into my own life."

"You absolutely would be."

"I know. That's why I'm thanking you."

Ning hops off her stool (winces slightly upon landing), walks over, and presses a kiss to your cheek. Her lips are warm from the tea. "That was really sweet of you. Setting all this up. Being so considerate through everything. You're a good person."

"I'm an okay person who was heavily incentivized."

Ning laughs. "Still."

You pull on your shirt, then the shoes, find your jacket on the couch (right where you left it approximately a lifetime ago), and head for the door. You stop with your hand on the knob and look back at them. Minjeong has her arm around Ning's waist, and Ning is leaning into her, and they look like something that was always supposed to happen and just needed a minor logistical push.

"Just remember to invite me back," you say. "There's apparently a lot of unfinished business."

Minjeong and Ning exchange a knowing glance. "Oh, we're definitely calling you," Minjeong says. "There's still a lot to be done. I have an entire drawer we didn't even open tonight. And I'm going to need your... assistance."

"The drawer you won't tell me about?"

"That drawer stays classified until the appropriate time."

Ning waves from under Minjeong's arm. "Come back soon."

"I will." You open the door and step into the hallway. The sad little fern sits in its pot by the wall, oblivious to its role in the evening's origin story. "Good luck, you two. Goodnight."

You close the door behind you and stand in the hallway for a second, listening. Through the door, muffled, you hear Ning say something and Minjeong laugh. It’s unfiltered. Effortless. So different from the composed, dry version she shows the world.

You press the elevator button, take a bite of the stolen cookie, and head home.

[sprenthecreator]

📖 SPREN'S MASTERLIST 📖

════════════════════

---

---

---

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

--- AESPA ---

════════════════

🐍 Erinýes – [Ningning, Winter, Ryujin]

🐍 Red Hot Sloppy Christmas – [Karina]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy EP. 7 – [OT4]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy EP. 8 – [Giselle]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy EP. 9 – [Ningning]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy EP. 10 – [Winter]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy EP. 11 – [Karina]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy EP. 12 – [Ningning]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy EP. 13 – [Karina, Giselle]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy EP. 14 – [Winter, Ningning]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy EP. 15 – [OT4 + No:Ze]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy EP. 16 – [Karina, Yeji]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy INTERLUDE 1. – [OT4, Itzy, Nayeon, Seulgi]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy INTERLUDE 3. [Giselle]

🐍 Post Stress Therapy INTERLUDE 4. – [Chaeryeong, Ningning, Lily, Haewon]

🐍 Thank you for the Venom – [Winter]

🐍 Ko Ko Bop – [OT4]

🐍 LUV N DEVOTION / obsession – [Karina, Giselle, Wonyoung]

🐍 Winter Wonderland – [Karina (ft Yooyeon, Heejin)]

🐍 Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! [Karina, Sullyoon, Wonyoung]

════════════════

--- BLACKPINK ---

════════════════

🖤 In The Closet – [Lisa]

════════════════

--- BABYMONSTER ---

════════════════

👺 AMBITIONS EP. 0 - [Asa]

👺 hellevator - [Asa]

════════════════

--- DREAMCATCHER ---

════════════════

❄️ Service Room – [Gahyeon]

❄️ Jealousy – [Yoohyeon]

❄️ Paperwork – [JiU]

════════════════

--- G-IDLE ---

════════════════

🌹 The Judge – [Soyeon]

🌹 Open, Pandora – [Soyeon]

🌹 California Love – [Minnie, Soyeon]

🌹 O Sole Mio – [Yuqi, Soyeon]

🌹 Royal – [Miyeon, Soyeon]

🌹 Waking the Demon – [Shuhua, Soyeon]

🌹 HERicane – [Shuhua, Rei, Isa]

════════════════

--- ITZY ---

════════════════

👟 Erinýes – [Ryujin, Ningning, Winter]

👟 Post Stress Therapy EP. 0 – [OT5]

👟 Post Stress Therapy EP. 1 – [Yuna]

👟 Post Stress Therapy EP. 2 – [Lia]

👟 Post Stress Therapy EP. 3 – [Yeji]

👟 Post Stress Therapy EP. 4 – [Ryujin, Yuna]

👟 Post Stress Therapy EP. 5 – [Chaeryeong, Chaeyeon]

👟 Post Stress Therapy EP. 6 – [OT5]

👟 Post Stress Therapy EP. 16 – [Karina, Yeji]

👟 Post Stress Therapy INTERLUDE 1. – [OT4, Itzy, Nayeon, Seulgi]

👟 Post Stress Therapy INTERLUDE 4. – [Chaeryeong, Ningning, Lily, Haewon]

════════════════

--- IVE ---

════════════════

🦋 I Hate Everything About You – [Wonyoung]

🦋 LUV N DEVOTION / obsession – [Wonyoung, Karina, Giselle]

🦋 HERicane – [Rei, Isa, Shuhua]

🦋 Since I've Been Loving You - [Wonyoung]

🦋 Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! [Karina, Sullyoon, Wonyoung]

════════════════

--- KWON EUNBI ---

════════════════

🍈 STARBOY EP. 4 A Warm Place

════════════════

--- LE SSERAFIM ---

════════════════

💠 STARBOY EP. 3 Earned It – [Kazuha]

💠 Sweet Painted Lady – [Chaewon POV]

💠 family ties – [Chaewon]

💠 IMPURITIES EP.1 – [Yunjin, Chaewon]

💠 IMPURITIES EP.2 – [Sakura]

💠 IMPURITIES EP.3 – [Kazuha]

💠 IMPURITIES EP.4 – [Chaewon, Eunchae]

════════════════

--- LEE SUNMI ---

════════════════

🦊 STARBOY EP. 1 The Hills

════════════════

--- LOONA (ARTMS/LOOSEMBLE) ---

════════════════

🌙 STARBOY EP. 0 Extreme Measures – [Heejin]

🌙 Enchanted – [Gowon]

🌙 Winter Wonderland – [Heejin (ft Karina, Yooyeon)]

════════════════

--- MOMOLAND ---

════════════════

🧚‍♂️No Diggity - [Ahin]

════════════════

--- NEWJEANS ---

════════════════

🧸 Cool With You – [Danielle]

🧸 Con te partirò – [Hanni]

🧸 C.R.E.A.M – [Danielle]

════════════════

--- NMIXX ---

════════════════

🕶 My Number One – [Sullyoon]

🕶 Silence Speaks – [Sullyoon ft Isa]

🕶 The Way You Look Tonight – [Sullyoon, Haewon, Bae]

🕶 Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! [Karina, Sullyoon, Wonyoung]

🕶 Post Stress Therapy INTERLUDE 4. – [Chaeryeong, Ningning, Lily, Haewon]

════════════════

--- RED VELVET ---

════════════════

👑 Devil's Walkway – [Joy & Wendy]

👑 Post Stress Therapy INTERLUDE 1. – [OT4, Itzy, Nayeon, Seulgi]

👑 Post Stress Therapy INTERLUDE 2. – [Seulgi, Wendy]

════════════════

--- STAYC ---

════════════════

🎀 Diamond Eyes – [Sullyoon ft Isa]

🎀 HERicane – [Isa, Shuhua, Rei]

════════════════

--- TIFFANY YOUNG ---

════════════════

💅 STARBOY EP.2 Prisoner

════════════════

--- tripleS ---

════════════════

🐦‍⬛ NEW MAGIC WAND – [Sohyun]

🐦‍⬛ Winter Wonderland – [Yooyeon (ft Karina, Heejin)]

════════════════

--- TWICE ---

════════════════

🍭 Backup Material – [Momo]

🍭 Sprout – [Chaeyoung]

🍭 La notte delle rose nere – [Mina, Sana]

🍭 Queen of Hearts – [Jihyo, Dahyun]

🍭 Flashing Lights – [Momo & Mina]

🍭 Champagne Showers – [Jihyo, Sana]

🍭 All Of The Lights – [Mina, Sana, Momo]

🍭 Post Stress Therapy INTERLUDE 1. – [Aespa, Itzy, Nayeon, Seulgi]

════════════════

[sprenthecreator]

hellevator

Male reader x Enami Asa

7.3k words | smut, elevator sex, really sweaty

━•✦•━•✦•━

Staying late at the university was probably one of your favorite things lately. The reason? Quite simple: the library all to yourself and your studies.

That day, the comparative literature tutorial had extended a couple of hours, because the professor had specifically asked you to help him correct the group's papers, using the excuse that you "always submitted everything impeccably." To be honest, you didn't mind; you found a certain pleasure in being in control without even asking for it, so you helped him without a problem.

The library was two floors below where you were. Before going down, you stopped by a vending machine, grabbed a can of soda, and took a sip while looking out the window. The parking lot looked dark from there. The sun was setting on the Ontario horizon, and the few students who remained at that hour were already getting into their cars or taking public transportation and leaving the premises.

Soda can in hand and backpack on your shoulder, you went down the stairs and took the path to the right, straight to the library. Upon arriving, you pushed open the doors and let the cool air wash over your face, a small pleasure in life that never got old. The librarian was where she always was: behind her desk reading her magazines.

You approached the counter and cleared your throat.

"Excuse me, Ms. Campbell," you said. "Where can I find Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire? I need it urgently."

The woman, about sixty years old, with subtly graying hair, looked at you over her glasses.

"Another girl has already taken it," she replied. "She's over there. You'll have to deal with her."

You clicked your tongue. Seriously, who on earth would need that specific book at this time of day? It could only be someone from your class, and as far as you knew, everyone had already gone home.

"Thank you."

You moved away from the counter and went where the librarian had directed you, making your way between the bookshelves until you reached the other side, where the study tables were. There didn't seem to be anyone there. You looked to the right, nobody. You looked to the left...

"This has to be a joke..." you muttered.

There she was, the girl the librarian had been talking about. The girl who, of all your classmates, was the one you least expected to see.

The girl who, for some reason you didn't understand, hated you.

Enami Asa was sitting at the back, in the corner of the reading area by the windows, with the book you needed open on the table. She was an attractive girl, with long, shiny blonde hair and a slender figure, with very pronounced Japanese features.

You rarely interacted with her; she always avoided you, glared at you, or simply told you to go to hell. Why was beyond your comprehension, as you were sure you had never done anything wrong to her. In fact, you were always kind and polite to everyone. But she, somehow, wanted nothing to do with you.

And now you had to ask her for a book that she probably needed as much as you did. You were screwed.

With a deep, resigned sigh, you ran a hand over your face and walked towards her.

As soon as she noticed someone approaching, Asa looked up from her book. Her face was calm, unconcerned. When she realized it was you, however, she rolled her eyes and frowned.

"Stay away from me," she said as soon as you stopped near her table.

"Listen, Enami, I hate to bother you, believe me, but..."

"I'm not interested," she replied, her gaze fixed on the book, legs crossed.

"I really need that book," you finished the sentence anyway.

"Oh yeah? Too bad. I'm using it."

"It's fine," you said, taking off your backpack, placing it on the table next to hers, and sitting down in the chair. "I'll wait until you're finished. I'm in no hurry."

"Oh my God..." Asa mumbled, looking up from her book and meeting your eyes for a moment. She couldn't hold your gaze for long. "I don't know what part of 'leave me alone' you didn't understand."

"I'm not..."

What you were about to say was interrupted by a sudden flicker of the lights and a brief power fluctuation. You and Asa looked at the ceiling at the same time, confused. When everything returned to normal, Asa looked back at her book.

"I'm not doing anything wrong, woman," you continued. "Besides, you won't even notice I'm here. Just carry on with what you're doing."

Asa scoffed and muttered something under her breath.

Silence fell between you.

"Your presence bothers me," she said after a while.

"Well, that's too bad," you replied, looking at your phone. "Because this is a public place, and I can be here if I want to."

"I'm going to sue you for harassment, then."

"With what evidence?" you asked, pointing to the corner of the ceiling. "There's a camera right there."

Asa followed your finger and looked at the camera.

"Fine, I'm leaving."

Asa slammed the book shut, shoved it into her bag, and slung it over her shoulder before standing up.

"What?" You looked up from your phone to see her finishing packing her things and walking away. "No!"

"I'll kick your ass if you follow me!"

Despite the threat, you grabbed your backpack and followed her, keeping your distance. Asa glanced over her shoulder, and noticing you, quickened her pace.

"Enami, for God's sake!" you pleaded. "I'm serious! I need that book!"

"I don't care!"

You followed Asa out of the library, panic seizing your body. If you didn't get that damn book, you were screwed, because it wasn't available digitally anywhere, and midterms were next week. You had to get it somehow, even if it meant bribing her.

As you followed Asa down the hallway, the lights flickered again, and this time the power fluctuation was even worse. You and Asa stopped dead in your tracks until the electricity stabilized. Then she glared at you and snarled.

"Damn it, leave me alone! I don't want you near me!"

Asa resumed walking, now much faster, heading straight for the elevator. The underground parking lot was about six floors down; that would be the quickest way.

"My midterm grades depend on that damn book!" you protested. You could easily catch up to her if you wanted to, but you preferred to avoid an unnecessary scene and giving her real reasons not to give you anything.

"I couldn't care less about your grades, nerd!"

Asa sped up in the final stretch, jogging straight towards the elevator and putting considerable distance between you. She then pressed the button in quick succession until the doors opened and she slipped inside.

You hated having to do it, but as Asa pressed the button to close the doors, you summoned your athleticism and sprinted straight towards the closing elevator. Asa panicked and pressed the button harder, as if that would make the doors close faster, but just as the gap was becoming too small, you managed to squeeze in.

"Ugh!!" Asa grumbled, frustrated, leaning against the mirrored wall to get as far away from you as possible. "Damn it!"

"I'm sorry, Enami, but I really can't let you leave with that book," you said, also moving away so she wouldn't think you were a weirdo.

"And why not? I need it just as much as you do, you selfish bastard!"

The elevator began to descend, but just then the lights flickered. Used to it this time, you didn't pay attention. It was probably just poor maintenance of the LEDs.

"I'll pay you."

Asa, arms crossed, glanced at you disdainfully.

"I don't want your damn money."

"A hundred bucks."

Silence.

"Two hundred. No. Three hundred!"

Asa rolled her eyes, pushed herself off the wall, and stood in front of you, looking you directly in the eyes.

"I-don't-want-your damn-money!" she shouted.

The elevator stopped abruptly.

Both of you stumbled. The lights above your heads flickered and fluctuated repeatedly, until finally, they went out. Only the emergency lights remained, dimmer than the ceiling lamps.

"What the hell?" Asa frowned. She pressed the emergency button several times, but it didn't work. "Oh no... no no no no!"

A cold current of deep anxiety ran through your body as you thought of a thousand and one scenarios. Most of the cases you knew of this kind ended in a quick rescue without much trouble, but even so, being trapped inside four metal walls surrounded by concrete didn't appeal to you one bit.

You had to stay calm. Panic would lead nowhere.

Asa, on the other hand, didn't seem too inclined to remain calm. She paced in small circles, her breathing rapid.

"The damn power went out," you muttered, taking off your backpack and sitting on the floor, your back against the wall. "They'll come for us, calm down."

"Shut the fuck up and don't you dare tell me to calm down!" Asa snapped. "This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for your selfish ass!"

You stayed silent. She was right, really; if you hadn't forced her to leave prematurely, you wouldn't have been trapped there in the first place. The power outage would have caught you in the hallway and out of harm's way. Now you felt like a jerk.

"Stupid moron..." she muttered disdainfully, retreating to her corner.

Asa continued pacing in circles, desperate. She tried pressing the emergency button repeatedly, but it still didn't work. The worst part was that you couldn't hear a soul outside, probably because it was the worst possible time to have gotten trapped there. Almost no one was in the building.

After ten minutes, and despite the natural ventilation, it started to get hot. You had to take off your hoodie and were left in your t-shirt, and Asa took off her jacket, remaining in the tight sweater she was wearing underneath, which accentuated her breasts and pretty figure. Inevitably, you checked her out. She was hot.

"What the hell are you looking at, you idiot?"

"I only looked at you for a second, can you please calm down for once?"

Asa let out a laugh.

"Sure, let's calm down." she nodded, sitting down on the floor on the opposite side of you, back against the wall, legs tucked to one side. "We're trapped in a damn elevator and nobody knows we're here," she hit the floor several times with the side of her fist. "But let's calm down!"

You let out a heavy sigh, shook your head, and leaned against the wall, staring at the unlit lamps on the ceiling until you decided to close your eyes and try to relax. Minutes passed, and the heat got worse; now you were sweating a little, small drops running down your temples. You had to take a notebook out of your backpack and fan yourself with it. Asa was doing something similar with a notebook.

After an hour, the silence was affecting you more than the heat itself. The best thing you could think of to break the silence was to ask a question that had been circling in your head for a while.

"Asa," you opened your eyes and looked at her. "Why the hell do you hate me so much? What did I do to you?"

Confused by the question, Asa looked up and stared at you, eyes narrowed from the heat and irritation. Her blonde hair was sticking to her temples, and drops of sweat were running down her neck.

"Do you really want to talk about this now, Beaumont?" she asked in a dry voice. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, wiping away the sweat. "In this damn elevator?"

You nodded without looking away, checking if she could hold your gaze. But indeed, she couldn't; after a few seconds she looked away.

"I've been wondering about this for months. I always try to be nice to everyone, even you. So I really don't understand what your problem is with me."

Asa snorted and looked at the ceiling, searching for patience.

"Okay, do you want to know why I hate you?" she asked. "Because you always make me look ridiculous. Always. Every time I say something in some damn group project, you come along and correct me with that fucking innocent face. And what's worse? The teachers always look at you like you're the goddamn Albert Einstein reincarnated. It's so humiliating! I'm just as fucking smart as you!"

She paused, biting her lower lip. She seemed embarrassed to admit it. You weren't surprised; it really was a rather stupid reason.

Unless, of course, that wasn't the real reason.

"My whole life I've been the best, until now." Asa lowered her voice. "I hate being a damn second-best. Do you know what it's like to have Japanese parents? It means being under scrutiny every single day. If I'm not the best in my class, I get a fucking lecture and disappointed looks. And I've been the damn disappointment of my family for months!"

"And... that's my fault?"

"Yeah! It's your damn fault!" Asa shrieked.

Silence fell between you again, now less hostile thanks to her emotional outburst.

"You know I don't do it on purpose, right?" you asked after a while. "Whenever I correct you, I do it with good intentions, because I like to make the people around me better. Makes me feel good. It has nothing to do with wanting to humiliate you. That's not the case, I promise," you shook your head. "But I'm sorry for making you feel that way. Sometimes I can’t be a little annoying, I admit it."

Asa looked at you for a moment, her brow furrowed. The disdain still hadn't completely disappeared from her eyes, but they weren't as full of anger as before. She didn't say anything, simply crossed her arms and looked down, desperately tapping her foot.

Time continued to pass, and the silence remained unbearable. An hour later, the elevator had become a small oven on the lowest setting. You were both sweating profusely, your clothes already sticking to your bodies. You remained seated on your side, eyes closed to conserve energy, but Asa had already gotten up several times to pace back and forth, and now she was standing in front of the elevator doors.

A couple of minutes passed before you started hearing metallic noises. You immediately opened your eyes, hoping it was the firefighters.

Asa was crouched in front of the elevator doors, her fingers wedged into the gap as she pulled hard on the sides. Her muscles tensed, and her sweater pulled slightly out of her skirt at her lower back. She grunted with the effort.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?!" you demanded.

She didn't answer. Instead, she pulled harder. The doors, of course, didn't budge an inch, but the elevator vibrated slightly with the movement. You weren't an expert rescuer or firefighter, but you were sure this wasn't a good idea.

You quickly stood up.

"Enami, stop!" you said louder. "You're going to hurt yourself!"

Asa ignored you. She pulled again. One of her fingers got caught in the crack, causing a small cut on the tip. Asa hissed in pain, but she didn't stop her efforts.

"Alright, that's enough."

You closed the distance between you, bent your knees, and wrapped one arm around her waist to pull her closer, firmly but without violence. You managed to get her to her feet and away from the doors, your other arm encircling her torso to immobilize her hands.

But now you were pressed against each other, sweaty and with quite high body temperatures, chest against back. From that distance, you could even smell her hair, which, despite the heat and humidity, still smelled wonderful.

"Stop it, please," you said softly, close to her ear. You barely needed to raise your voice, so it was almost a whisper. "You're going to hurt yourself, and if for some reason you manage to open those doors, you don't know if we're between floors or not. You could fall and fucking die."

Asa squirmed and tried to break free from your grip, pushing her butt against you. Inevitably, she rubbed against your bulge, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Let go of me, you son of a bitch," she spat.

But you didn't. You maintained your iron grip, breathing against the back of her neck. Her slender body felt too good under your left arm. Asa continued trying to break free, but at a certain point she stopped. Specifically, when she noticed your semi-erect cock pressing against her butt through her clothes. You noticed it too.

Neither of you moved.

Absolute silence, only your heavy, hot breaths.

Asa turned her head slightly and glanced at you. Her face was inches from yours.

"Let go of me," she repeated, softer, less threatening.

You loosened your grip a little, but didn't let go completely. One hand remained on her waist and the other on her wrist. Asa, contrary to what you expected, didn't immediately break free and hit you. Instead, she slowly pushed her hips back, rubbing against your erection, testing the waters. You tensed up.

"Fuck..." Asa gasped.

"Stop it you too..." you murmured, squeezing her waist a little tighter.

Asa continued to move her hips against the hard bulge under your pants, then lifted her skirt to her waist and pressed harder, feeling the outline of your cock against her buttocks.

"My God... you're big," Asa sighed.

"Can I know what the hell you're doing?" you asked softly, pulling back slightly to look at her firm little ass grinding against your bulge.

"Shut up and don't make me regret this."

"Asa, we're trapped and we're dying of heat," you held her by both sides of her waist. "I don't think this is the time for..."

Cutting you off mid-sentence, Asa turned around without breaking your hold, placed her hands on your chest, and looked you in the eyes. Face to face. Chest to chest. Hot breaths mingled as you shared each other's body heat.

"Do you know why else I hate you?" she asked, holding your gaze for a record amount of time.

"I honestly have no idea."

"Because even though you make me feel humiliated and stupid..." Asa leaned closer to your lips, almost touching them with hers. "You also make me wet like a cheap whore." She moved her hands to your shoulders and squeezed them gently. "So smart... so handsome... so kind... so diligent."

"And again... that's my fault?"

"Yes, it is," Asa replied. "Because if you had made a move sooner or put in just a little effort, I wouldn't have to make you fuck my brains out in an elevator."

Then she kissed you. All the anger that seemed to have dissipated in her responses and the way she looked at you materialized again in the kiss. Her tongue quickly invaded your mouth, meeting yours. You responded immediately, raising your hands to her face to cup it and pull her closer.

Seconds later, you pulled apart, panting. The heat was now suffocating.

"You're taking me to dinner tomorrow," Asa said against your lips, more of a statement than a question.

"And we'll study together if you want."

A small smile escaped Asa's lips. You'd never seen her do that before. She looked ridiculously cute.

"Bet."

You kissed her again, harder this time. Asa moaned against your lips and wrapped her arms around your neck, one hand on your back and the other on the back of your head. As you savored her lips, you wrapped your arms around her slender body and held her as close as possible, then, seconds later, slid your hands down the damp fabric covering her back and squeezed her butt through her skirt.

Asa's nails dug into the back of your neck, tugging at your hair. The kiss became wild: you bit each other's lips, your teeth clashing, and your saliva mixed with the sweat already dripping down your faces.

"Either you start undressing me or I'm going to faint from the heat," Asa gasped.

Without a second thought, you reached for the zipper of Asa's skirt and pulled it down. The skirt fell to the floor around her shoes. Then, you quickly untucked her sweater from her black lace panties and pulled it up her body until you took it off completely.

You opened your eyes and broke the kiss to look at Asa's body in the mirror. Her ass was modest but pretty and round. Her legs, long and pale, with incredibly soft skin. And her back was so attractive that you were dying to lick up all the damn sweat from it.

"Holy shit, you're so hot..." you murmured, placing your hands on her buttocks and squeezing them. You kissed her again.

"Thanks for noticing just now," Asa replied sarcastically in the middle of the kiss. "You're a real genius, Beaumont."

Asa lowered her hands and quickly worked on your pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down along with your boxers to your knees while you took off your shirt. She then placed her hand on your sweaty, hard cock, rubbing it at a steady pace with her hand facing upwards. In response, you put a hand between her legs and with two fingers you felt her wet slit under her panties.

"Is this sweat or...?"

"I already told you, dumbass" Asa panted. "You make me wet like a cheap whore."

A cool breeze hit your body, making the sweat feel cold for a few seconds until you felt the rising heat again. It was better this way though, because the constant contact between your sticky, sweaty bodies was all you needed at that moment. It felt too good not to appreciate it.

"Let me take care of it, then."

You grabbed Asa by the waist and led her to the wall with the mirror, leaning her lower back against the railing so you could kneel in front of her, the cold metal floor beneath your knees. However, before you could get down to business, something caught your attention.

"Mmm... and what's this?" you said, noticing Asa's belly button piercing.

"Do you like it?" Asa asked, hands resting on the railing to her sides.

"I love it," you gripped her hips firmly. "It makes me want to..."

Asa let out a small moan as you planted your tongue below her navel and slowly licked upwards, tasting the metallic tang of the shiny ball of her piercing along the way. Not satisfied with that, you covered her entire perfect, toned abdomen with kisses, tracing a circle around her navel down to her lower belly.

The fabric quickly became a nuisance, so, with your fingers on the edges of her hips, you slowly pulled Asa's panties down her legs until they were off. Asa's pussy was adorned with a very light patch of pubic hair trimmed into a triangle, but from there down she was completely shaved. Without a second thought, you grabbed her by the sides of her thighs and planted your mouth on her slit.

"Oh fuck yeah!" Asa moaned, one hand tangled in your hair as you gave her pussy its first taste.

As you slowly licked between Asa's wet folds, she reached a hand behind her back and unhooked her bra, tossing it to the floor to your right at the same time she kicked off her shoes. Licking and kissing her clit, you looked up to get a glimpse of her surprisingly big breasts. They weren't melons, but you could certainly cup them with your whole hand.

You raised your hands up her body to confirm it. You cupped both breasts, giving each a gentle squeeze. They were soft, like two little cotton balls, and each time you squeezed, some flesh spilled out the sides. Perfect breasts in their full glory. And if that wasn't enough, her pussy folds were so soft and delicious that you didn't even bother to breathe properly, making you look like a hungry dog ​​devouring her.

"Oh my god just like that!" Asa moaned, hands on your wrists and head thrown back, arching her back. "Fuck, keep going you fucking asshole!"

Your fingers tightened on the sides of Asa's thighs. You licked faster, complementing it with constant movements of your head to give your tongue more agility. Asa pulled your hair, clinging to it as her moans filled the small space. Not long after, she thrust her hips forward and exploded in your mouth.

"Nnngh fuck!!" Asa whimpered, her lower body trembling.

Asa gently stroked your hair, small moans escaping her lips. You licked up her fluids, not stopping until her orgasm subsided a minute later. Only then did you stand up, wrap an arm around her waist, and kiss her again. She received your lips with a sigh, wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and lowered her other hand to rub your cock.

"Put those sexy fingers inside me, please," Asa panted against your lips. "I promise to give you the best blowjob of your life in return."

"Bet."

You slid a hand between her breasts and went down her abdomen until you reached her pussy. You started by making slow circles on her clit, and seconds later, you ran your ring and middle fingers between her slick folds a couple of times. Asa squeezed your shoulder and moaned against your lips, letting out a moan as you slowly pushed your fingers inside her.

"You said I make you wet like a cheap whore, right?" you murmured, placing kisses on her chin and jaw, your fingers digging deeper and deeper inside. "Moan like one, then."

Asa let out a moan so sexy, so stupidly sensual and mind-blowing that you let in what was left of your fingers in one fell swoop. Her hand moved faster on your cock, in an attempt to give you back half of the pleasure she felt the moment you started pumping in and out, but she soon abandoned that task in favor of mentally focusing on her own ecstasy.

"Oh yeah, you like it right?" you asked, curling your fingers up to rub her top wall with your fingertips each time you took your fingers inside her.

Asa's only response was to do exactly what you asked her to do in the first place: moan like a cheap whore. She leaned her head against the mirror, and you took to kissing her exposed neck, the taste salty on your tongue from her sweat. You found the latter strangely pleasurable, so you licked more hungrily on different areas of her neck.

You raised your head again and placed a small kiss on her parted lips, staring at her face distorted with pleasure as you pumped the wrist faster.

"Fuck, you look so cute..." you said under your breath, exhaling hot breath that mixed with hers. "Why don't you see yourself?"

Asa opened her eyes and looked at you with a wrinkled forehead.

"Huh?..."

You took your fingers out of her, turned her around and made her bend against the mirror, her hips pushed back and her ass raised to return them inside her pussy. Asa looked at herself in the mirror, hands braced against it, bursting into moans again as your palm began to slam against her buttocks with each pump of your wrist.

The sloshing of her wet pussy took over the small acoustic space of the quiet, hot elevator, as well as the sound of your palm slapping against her flesh. You had Asa by the neck, but soon you slid that hand down her back to feel her sweaty skin, finally leaving it on her waist, your erect cock placed on top of her buttock.

"Don't stop looking at yourself for a damn second," you ordered. "Look how cute a cheap whore looks cumming."

Asa opened her mouth to whimper in pleasure, squirming every few seconds until she exploded with a gasp. Her legs shook violently, her wet pussy spilling hot fluids that slowly dripped onto the floor. She fell to her knees, but immediately turned around, grabbed your cock and took it into her mouth, moaning around your shaft.

"Oh god..." you gasped, wiping Asa's fluids off your fingers with her own cheek.

The Japanese blondie looked at you with watery eyes dilated with lust, fingers firm around the hilt of your shaft. She pumped her head at a steady, sensual pace over the middle of your cock, breathing deeply.

"Mmmgh you drive me so fucking crazy, fuck," she moaned as she took you out of her mouth for a moment, to lick the underside of your shaft to the tip. "Wasn't it enough for you to be this handsome? You also have to have this cock? This big... juicy... delicious cock, mmmgh."

Asa took you back into her mouth, now sucking more hungrily, both hands on the sides of your hips. Her mouth gradually went further and further, until, with a little effort, she took you deep into her throat. You moaned loudly, believing for a second that she was going to even take your balls.

“Holy fuck Enami…” you gasped, hand on the back of her head, keeping her nose against your pubes. "Nnngh!!"

Small gagging sounds left Asa's mouth, but she didn't give an inch, not until her own throat betrayed her and she coughed you out, your cock dripping thick saliva.

"M-my face..." she murmured. "Fuck my face. Fuck my face like the whore I am."

She didn't need to repeat that twice.

You grabbed a handful of hair behind her head and made her lift it. Asa stuck out her tongue, and you took your cock into her mouth, pushing every inch inside. She explicitly told you not to have any mercy, so, right from the beginning, you began pumping your hips in an impetuous frenzy, fucking her throat with clenched teeth and sweat dripping down your body.

Asa remained still and with her mouth open, embracing her role as a cheap whore and being nothing more than an object of pleasure for you. Your cock was moving completely in and out of her mouth, and her saliva soon began to spill from the corners of her lips right onto her tits.

You gave her a short break seconds later, and she spit out the saliva pooled inside her mouth onto the back of your shaft, moving down to suck and lick your balls while you masturbated over her face. Next, you took your cock back into her mouth, but now you grabbed her hair in a ponytail and left both hands there, pushing her head towards your cock every time you pushed forward.

“That's it, take it all bitch…” you growled, your heavy balls slapping against her chin with each thrust. "This is what you've wanted all this time, isn't it?"

Asa moaned loudly with her mouth full of cock. The combination of sounds was addictive: stagnant saliva spilling out, her gag reflexes, your grunts, the subtle slaps of your balls against her sweaty skin. You could have easily cum at that precise moment, but you had other priorities.

You suddenly pulled your cock out of her mouth and made her look up. Asa had tears running down her cheeks and her mouth was stained with saliva, strands of blonde hair stuck to her sweaty face.

"Bring that pussy over here."

With your help, Asa stood up and cupped your face to crash her lips against yours. You responded for a few long seconds, with your arms wrapped around her slim body, her breasts pressed against your chest while your tongues intertwined in the middle of the kiss. A short while later, you pulled away and turned her around to bend her against the elevator mirror again.

"You know, I wouldn't mind having this image more often." you said, your cock resting between her buttocks.

"Shut the fuck up and fuck me," Asa spat, wiggling her ass against your cock.

You slapped her hard on one of her buttocks, which instantly became red hot on her pale skin. Asa whimpered against her pursed lips.

"Watch that language."

With one hand on her waist, you looked into her eyes through the mirror, blew her a kiss and took your cock to guide it between her buttocks, finding her wet pussy and pressing your tip between her folds. A moan in unison escaped you both as your shaft forced its way through her tight walls, which engulfed you and clamped firmly around you.

"Fuck you're so big..." Asa gasped, clinging tightly to the railing. She let out a squeal as you buried yourself up to the hilt inside her pussy. "Oh my god!"

Asa's pussy was much tighter than you first thought, even though you had been fingering her. The sensation was overwhelming, and you were sure you had never felt anything like it in your life: tight, warm, soft flesh squeezing your shaft from all directions.

"Come here."

You wrapped an arm around Asa's neck and pulled her towards you, pressing her back against your chest. Asa held onto your forearm with both hands, and you watched closely as her face melted with pleasure as you began to pump your hips back and forth, in and out of her suffocatingly tight pussy.

“Fuck me hard…” Asa begged, digging her nails into your forearm. "I don't even want to walk properly tomorrow; I swear I don't care. Just use me as your personal whore, daddy."

And just like that, the neural structure in your brain was permanently altered after that word.

"Oh my god..."

With your arm still around her collarbone, you left your other hand clinging tightly to her small waist and began hammering her pussy like a complete madman. Asa let her head fall onto your shoulder, pursing her lips and grunting in pleasure as you rocked her with your violent thrusts, flesh against flesh colliding and echoing off the metal walls.

“Scream, you little whore,” you growled into her ear. "Let's see if someone listens to you and we don't stay here for three more fucking hours."

"Three more hours of you fucking me sounds like a blast," Asa responded between moans, then giggled provocatively.

A small laugh escaped you too, but you quickly forgot about the joke. You fucked her as fast and hard as you could, sweating profusely and making her sweat profusely, your bodies sticky and constantly rubbing against each other. Asa was in a trance, eyes closed, eyebrows raised, and mouth slightly open until you made her cum around your cock.

"Nnngh don't stop!!" she whimpered, her ass shaking against you. You held her tightly so she wouldn't slip away due to the spasms. "Keep going daddy please!!"

You gritted your teeth and released her collarbone to let her bend against the mirror once more, her back arched and her hips pushed back. One of your hands slid up her lower back to grab a fistful of her wet blonde hair, and the other stayed on her waist.

Asa screamed from the rooftops when you landed a slap on her ass, and then another, and then another. Both buttocks now red hot, colored like two small peaches. Then you pulled her hair back, carelessly, making her hiss and grunt in pleasure. Then, a few seconds of violent thrusting against her pussy later, she came again.

"NNNGH FUCK!" Asa screamed, her thighs about to give way in electric tremors, her pussy throbbing around your shaft. A small sob escaped her. "It feels so good, oh my god!"

You leaned forward and placed a kiss on her neck as she enjoyed her orgasm.

"Do you want to go to the floor?" you asked in her ear.

Asa, breathing heavily, looked at you over her shoulder, her face beaded with sweat.

"There's no way I'm putting my back on that floor. It must be freezing."

"I'll let you be on top, don't worry."

Asa smiled.

“Mmm,” Asa kissed you for a second. "You know? I think I like you."

"Huh, you think? And why...?"

"You can fuck a person without liking them romantically," Asa responded. "But you have every chance to marry me and give me at least two children."

You blinked a few times.

"Didn't you hate me or what?"

"I may be getting over it."

"My God, you really have a screw loose."

You pulled from inside her and took her hand to lead her to the center of the elevator. Then, you took your clothes and made a blanket on the floor where you lay on your back. There was no way you were going to lie down on the cold floor. Asa looked at you amused, and without saying anything else, she went with you, straddled you on top, and without wasting any time, she raised her hips, grabbed your cock and impaled herself on it.

As soon as your cock was buried deep in her pussy, Asa slumped forward and crashed her lips against yours, her hands on your shoulders. The blonde then began to move her hips up and down, at a pace that was not slow at all but that she controlled perfectly. You, for your part, grabbed her ass and squeezed both buttocks, guiding her movements.

Asa moaned against your lips, and then bit the lower one hard. You let her move on your cock for a couple of minutes, so that she could control how much pleasure she received or did not receive. But then, when your body was already demanding one more wither, you wrapped your arms around her body, planted your feet on the floor and began to rapidly pump your hips up and down.

"Oh my fucking goooood!!" Asa whimpered, head raised looking at the ceiling.

Once again, the acoustic space was filled with the sound of your pelvis colliding against her ass, now at a frenetic pace that made it sound like a round of applause. Asa came on your cock at one point, but you continued and continued, depriving her of any rest as you felt close to your own climax.

"E-Enami..." you gasped, beads of her sweat falling on you. "I’m gonna cum, where...?

"Inside!" she screeched immediately and without a hint of hesitation in her tone. "Fill me up daddy!"

Great, but you wanted and needed to look into her eyes while you did it, so with one quick movement, you reversed the position and left her underneath. Asa spread her legs wide and held onto your torso with them, allowing you to lean forward and be inches away from her face.

"Look at me," you whispered, pumping your hips rapidly.

Asa opened her eyes and stared at you. You could tell she was still having a hard time maintaining eye contact, as her cheeks flushed slightly, but she did it because you had asked her to.

The climax was stalking you, getting closer and closer. You held Asa's gaze, beautiful eyes full of tears, hair disheveled and stuck to your face with sweat. She was a damn beauty. A beauty that, seconds later, received your thick and abundant load when you exploded inside her.

"Mmmgh!!" Asa pursed her lips and moaned, holding your gaze as your cock throbbed and released stream after stream of thick cum into her tight cavern.

All your thoughts were clouded at that precise moment. You couldn't do anything but have your mouth half open like a fool, feeling your soul draining through your cock and at the same time transcending how good it felt to fill her completely.

When your balls were empty you collapsed and buried your face in her neck, letting the suffocation wash over you and her. You were both soaked, to the point where you looked like you had just gotten out of a shower, and the steam was palpable in the air. You stayed inside her for a while.

Then the elevator lights came on.

The energy returned.

You and Asa were startled. Asa let go of your torso and you quickly pulled out of her, running to the buttons to press the button that led to the top floor.

"Cover yourself with something!" you said.

Asa rushed to grab your shirt and covered herself with it, at the same time throwing her sweater at you so that you covered your crotch. It wasn't the order she had planned to do it in, but you appreciated the intention.

The elevator reached the parking floor and the doors opened. Immediately, the cold breeze from outside blew in and made you shiver, cooling your sweat to the maximum. There was no one out there, luckily, so the doors closed and the elevator started going up again.

“Oh my god…” you took a deep breath. "Hurry up, get dressed."

Asa tried to stand up, but her trembling legs immediately gave way and she fell on her butt to the ground.

"Shit. You were serious about leaving me with bad legs."

"You asked for it."

With an amused smile on your face, you helped her to her feet and helped her get dressed as quickly as possible. At the same time, you were putting on your own clothes. The cum dripping from her pussy was a bit of a problem, but Asa fixed it by wiping it off with her own panties and putting them on.

"I'll wash them when I get home," she said, now adjusting her skirt.

By the time the elevator reached the top floor, you and Asa were almost completely dressed; only your shoes were missing. But the first thing you wanted to avoid was making anyone suspicious of what you were doing in there.

And thank goodness, because as soon as the doors opened, you found yourself on the other side with Miss Campbell. The fucking librarian.

The woman looked at you with a frown. You may have been dressed, but you were still drenched in sweat and barefoot.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" she asked. "Weren't you...?"

"In the library, yes," you replied. "The power outage caught us inside the elevator."

"I have a better question," Asa interjected. "What are you doing here?"

The librarian's cheeks colored red hot. Just then, from a door at the back, your damn comparative literature professor came out. The man, about 36 years old, was petrified when he saw you in the hallway with Miss Campbell.

“Well, I…” Miss Campbell tried to find the words, but eventually gave up and pushed you back into the elevator. "Come on, get out of here! It's late already!"

You couldn't protest while the woman pressed the parking button. The doors closed.

And you and Asa burst out laughing.

When you arrived at the destination, both you and Asa were already with your shoes on and just as you initially entered the elevator. You walked Asa to her car. The parking lot was virtually empty and silent.

"So… do we have a date?" she asked, with the pilot door open.

"You don't hate me anymore, then?" you asked.

"Mmm," Asa wrinkled her nose. "Just a little bit. It will go away as long as you keep looking at me pretty and keep kissing me."

"Can I start right now?"

"Come on, try it."

You took a step forward, closed the distance between you and wrapped an arm around her waist to press her against your body and kiss her, Asa cupping your face. Seconds later, she pulled away and looked into your eyes.

"Mmm, it's still just a little bit. But it's a good start." Asa got away from you, stepped into the car and left her things on the passenger seat. "See you tomorrow, Beaumont."

"See you tomorrow, Enami."

Asa closed the door. You took steps back as she started her car, put it in reverse, and watched her drive out of the parking lot.

[sprenthecreator]

D.A | LUV N DEVOTION / obsession.

Male reader x Wonyoung, Karina, Giselle.

🔙 Previous update (for now) | 📄 LUV N DEVOTION / obsession |

word count: 19.7k

tags: fluffy and princess treatment for wony, cum slut rina, bi, car blowjob, foursome, triple blowjob, elevator sex, daddy kink, fingering, anal, overstimulation, squirt, creampie(s), rough sex, pussy eating, anal fingering, facial

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You knew that after that night in Tokyo things with Wony would never be the same, but not so drastically different.

Saying you were in love was not doing justice to what you felt for that damn girl now. Without going any further, the best way to describe it for you was obsession. Devotion. Not in a sick way, or toxic; you weren't that kind of guy. But since that October 12th, the only girl you thought about every day, 24 hours a day, was her. Only her.

In a way, that made you feel bad about yourself, because you had never felt that way for a person, not even for Hanni—from whom you were forced to emotionally detach yourself for a while at her request—or for Sully—who had simply started to like another person named Lee Chaeyoung and who was her girlfriend.

However, Wony made you happy on so many levels and facets that thinking about that had become something secondary. Something unimportant. Things were the way they were, and they happened because they had to happen that way. Period. Your conscience was clear: you were not to blame for your now failed relationship with Hanni, and you were not to blame for Sully's feelings leaning towards someone else. After all, you still loved them both, and their happiness was your happiness.

But if there was one thing you had to be thankful for, it was that all that chain of unfortunate events had brought you to where you are now: at the feet of a girl who reciprocated what you felt for her and who radiated perfection through every pore.

Wony turned out to be the antithesis of everything she seemed to you during all that time in which you felt hatred for her. You claimed left and right that she was a pretentious and spoiled bitch (she was just spoiled), and that you could never be her friend because she repelled you. Nothing could be further from the truth. While she had her bad attitudes like basically anyone, her virtues overshadowed everything; she was easily one of the sweetest and most caring people you had ever met in your life. Every single thing she did had you either sighing or smiling like an absolute idiot, and throughout the time you had spent together both in October and right now in November, you realized that she was everything you wanted and more.

And there was nothing more pleasurable and fulfilling than feeling reciprocated by her. By that monument made woman.

It was awards night. MMA's. You couldn't see each other on the day of the MAMA's because she had a pending appointment the next day and she didn't get permission, but things for that night were different: if everything went well, you would take her to dinner and then spend the night together. You were mad excited about it, and you couldn't wait for the hours to pass quickly so you could see her.

But for now, the priority was your damn job.

For some reason you had decided to do your daily stream at night, which was pretty stupid of you considering you knew you'd have to miss the red carpet as well as the awards and performances. Then you told yourself that just wasn't going to happen, and after only four hours you decided to cut it off just so you could turn on the TV and watch her.

You didn't regret it. Of course not. You had put on the stream just in time to see her and her members come out onto the carpet, and you didn't know how the hell you were going to function like a normal person again after seeing how outstandingly beautiful she was that night, with that high bun and that tight dress that hugged her curvy body and made it look like a total delight. You were so stunned that you couldn't help but take out your phone and record her through the TV screen until she left.

And with the phone in hand you couldn't help but text her either. You knew she wouldn't be able to answer you for a while, since you knew she was also going to be MC during the start of the awards. But you still had to let her know. You had to let her know how obsessed you were with her.

It was funny, because as soon as you sent the messages and read them you realized how screwed you were with that girl. It was a problem to fall so much at the feet of a person, it always was. But fuck it. If you were in a free fall into a bottomless abyss you were doing it with a big grin. It was something you talked about a lot with Sohyun and Hayoung. They had both insisted that you were giving yourself too much of a hard time with the matter, and that there was no point in thinking about the past or the future if your present was being this pleasant. Of course you objected using your recent history as an argument, but if there was one thing those two were good at it was giving you a good ass whooping so you would stop being a dramatic bitch.

In the end, well, you shut up and lowered your head to listen. Dealing with stressful situations rationally was their forte, not yours.

Time passed and eventually the awards show started. Wony came out as MC, looking radiant and charming as always to introduce the awards and welcome them. During all those segments, about an hour passed, and she didn't show up anymore. Then you got texts from her.

You swore to god you were going to throw the phone out the window and follow it closely. Instead, you opened that picture and stared at it with a rapt smile until you snapped out of the trance.

Screwed up. You were really screwed up and two steps away from asking for her hand in marriage. You had to fucking control yourself a little.

But god, she was like a fucking angel fallen to earth. She was your princess. Yours alone. She...

Stop. You really needed to stop. You were letting your feelings carry you along and you weren't thinking with your brain.

Now, that didn't stop you from feeling jealous when Wony, at the beginning of her performance, danced and was picked up by another guy. Wonderful.

She looked beautiful, yes, and you were extremely proud and happy for her. But that damn guy's hands... you were going crazy. It burned inside you, like you had lava pumping through your veins. It really wasn't that big of a deal, you knew the guy was just being professional. Still, you expected his hands to fall off for some mysterious reason right after that performance.

And now it was your Italianness that was thinking for you. For the last time, you had to calm down.

After that, the hours passed normally. You were able to see many of the performances you wanted, like IVE, Aespa and tripleS, but you were forced to miss others like IDLE and ATEEZ because you had to get ready to go out.

The occasion of the night was special, and that called for you to dress as such. But you had a little block, so you had no choice but to call your trusted seamstress. Well, one of them. You didn't want to talk to the other at that moment.

"Do you have some Bottega Veneta?" Danielle Marsh asked on your phone. You had been on a video call for about twenty minutes, and you had dedicated yourself to showing her almost your entire closet. "The winter collection is gorgeous."

You chuckled and looked to the right of the closet-room.

"Well, it's funny you say that, because..." you walked over and took down the tobacco-colored bonded leather trench coat from Bottega Veneta's latest winter collection. You showed it to Danielle, who opened her eyes wide and brought her face closer to the camera.

"Oh my god!" she sighed. "That thing it's like 11 thousand bucks, Ezio."

“It’s worth every penny,” you said, removing the hook. “The leather quality is insane.”

Danielle was about to say something, but apparently someone else entered her room and her attention was diverted. Unfortunately you recognized the voice, and your expression darkened.

“Do you know where my AirPods are? I can’t fucking find them,” you heard Hanni ask Dani. “Who are you talking to?”

“Uh...” Dani looked at the screen to see you and then back at her. “With… Ezio.”

There was silence for a few seconds.

“Okay…” another small silence. “I’ll keep looking,” Hanni finally replied, and you heard the door close.

Dani once again focused on you.

“Sorry about… well, that,” she said, visibly uncomfortable being in the middle of your conflict.

“Don’t worry,” you shook your head, forcing yourself not to think about it. “We got the most important thing done, now we just need to pick out a good pair of shoes and accessories.”

The coat you pulled out ended up being the final choice, along with black wool trousers, a black Versace turtleneck sweater, and black brushed leather Prada lace-ups. As accessories you opted for rings: a Bulgari Serpenti on one hand and a Buccellati from the Opera Tulle collection on the other, in this case shaped like a green flower made of emerald. Nothing modest. But you weren't interested in being modest; you loved to show off.

Besides, you had a gift for your princess. What you had spent on it you preferred not to remember, but you were sure it was the first time you had genuinely spent so much money on a person (the Rome vacation with Sohee in September didn't count, the expense had been on yourself too). To you that meant a lot. But she deserved it, you were sure.

Now dressed you went out to the living room to wait for Wony's message. You expected a text, but instead she called you.

"Hi?" you answered the call, with the car keys in your other hand.

"Hi dear," Wony answered on the other end of the line. "You can come pick me up now."

"Aight on my way," you said, standing up. "But why didn't you just text me?"

You walked over to gather everything you were going to bring, which was your wallet and the gift box for Wony.

"Because I had something to propose to you."

"Huh?"

"You see, I know the normal thing would be to pick me up at the service entrance, but..." she paused briefly. "Why don't you pick me up at the main entrance?"

You chuckled. That was ridiculous.

"Good joke sweetheart, now tell me what you want."

"Baby, it's not a joke," she replied, and from the tone she used you could tell she was serious.

You stood there dumbfounded, staring at the wall.

"Vicky, sweetheart, have you gone crazy?"

"No!" she protested. "Just hear me out. We don't have to be so brazen, but I don't want to sneak around either."

"You're an idol, baby. Shit, you're like a goddess here in Korea. You'll get into trouble, a big one."

"Ezio, I know what I'm doing, and there's no media covering any group's departure here. It’s gonna be fine!"

"You don't know that, you know what those Dispatch bastards are like."

"Starship has no dating restrictions! I mean not for me at least, I don’t give a fuck about those asholes."

"And that saves you from your weird fans? Look what they did to that poor Riize guy!"

"Darling, I'm shielded from all sides, and I don't give a shit what those weirdos think about me or not."

"I know, I know," you sighed. "But honey, keep in mind who I am and the things I do and say on stream. I don't want to make the problem any bigger because I am the one dating you. You don't deserve that."

Wony giggled.

"Oh baby, being you is the main reason why I don't want to hide you, are you even listening to yourself and how cute you are?"

And just like that, she ended the entire argument. It felt like a prime Mike Tyson uppercut, but instead of knocking out a tooth from you, it made your cheeks blush. That was called being beyond down.

"I-I… should go out and pick you up right now?" you asked.

"Yes, silly, that's what I just said. Come here and pick up your princess."

Your fucking princess. Why did that shit sound so good?

The level of obedience was such that you didn't even warn that you were going to hang up. That had to leave her baffled and maybe a little angry, but you were determined to get the hell out of there and hurry to pick her up just to plant a big kiss on those perfect lips.

After a little check of your look and the things you had to bring, you went down to the parking lot of your building complex and got in the car to head to the venue where the MMA's were being held. The security belt was well established from corner to corner, and from what you could see there were no visible photographers covering the idols' departures. Wony was right, but that made the anxiety you felt about it lessen.

In order to get through the security belt you had to make calls, one to Wony and another to the IVE manager so they could get you the authorization. The situation reminded you When you had to pick up Hanni in Milan from the Gucci event, but here they were much stricter and more protocolary when it came to managing everything. It was a bit of a headache, since the lack of cooperation from the guards was coupled with the refusal of the girls' manager to let Wony go with you there, in full view of everyone. The situation was a mess, but half an hour later, all the parties involved agreed and you were allowed to enter with the only condition that your license plate would have to be covered, which was even better for you.

You parked the car diagonally at the entrance of the venue, behind a couple of vans that were being loaded with boxes. In the distance you saw familiar faces, which was to be expected, but only a few recognized your car; Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho from ATEEZ, Seoyeon and Nakyung from tripleS, Shuhua and Miyeon, and you thought you saw Karina and Winter behind a couple of people. Everyone stared at you in bewilderment, and rightly so, because you weren't supposed to be there.

The only ones who dared approach you—with proper supervision from a member of their staff—were the guys from ATEEZ, who you'd hung out with a couple of times since that IDLE party last year. You rolled down the copilot window so you could talk to them.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Mingi asked, dapping you up. "Someone's gonna kick your ass."

You almost answered him in English, since you'd been talking to Wony in that language all day. You had to switch to Korean.

"I'm expecting someone," you replied, as you dapped the other two up. 

"You're expecting someone? Here?" Seonghwa said with a chuckle. "Isn't that a like too reckless?"

"Tell her that. She's just itching to get into trouble."

"Woah, and you look expensive today," Yunho said, tugging at the fabric of the coat on your shoulder. "Dinner maybe?"

"You're right," you smiled, and behind them you could notice a new silhouette walking towards you. "Ah, and I think she's coming."

The boys moved aside and your line of vision was clear. Wony was walking towards you, in the exact same dress she had worn to the opening of the awards and with the same cute high bun. Her walk was confident; she knew she was untouchable at that moment, that she was the center of attention and all the spotlights were on how beautiful she looked. As soon as she met your gaze you both smiled, but her lips remained in a slight graceful curve to maintain elegance.

"Alright move aside apes," you said, and in a move even more risky than just being there, you got out of the car and walked around the front to open the passenger door the moment Wony was only a couple of meters away.

"Ah, this guy hit the gold mine," Mingi muttered in disbelief before bowing in greeting to Wony, Seonghwa and Yunho imitating him. "Hi."

"Hi!" Wony bowed back to the three boys before locking eyes with you. "Hi sweetie, thanks," she said, now in perfect, pretty English, before climbing into the passenger seat. You closed the door and saw the ATEEZ guys.

"I'm off, gentlemen," you said, walking past them to circle back around your car. "Take care okay?"

"You too!" the three of them said at the same time.

"Oh, are you doing anything tomorrow?" Yunho asked you. "We were planning on going to a club, a couple of the guys from Boynextdoor and Riize are going too."

"Uhm..." you opened the door and leaned in to look at Wony, who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow. Yes, you were definitely doing something tomorrow. "I can't, I'll be busy," you replied, looking at them over the roof of the car.

"Of course you will be," Mingi said with a laugh, stepping away from Wony's window and the curb.

"Yeah, sorry. But hey, you like FIFA right? You can come over sometime."

"Yeah that would be cool. We'll call you. See you later Tiramisu boy!" Mingi said goodbye, and Seonghwa and Yunho waved goodbye as well.

You finally got into the car, rolled up the tinted windows and looked at Wony, who was staring back at you.

"Tiramisu boy?" she asked with a chuckle.

"They met me eating tiramisu at a party last year, that's the explanation," you replied, adjusting your coat and making the car's engine roar a little to warm it up.

"Mmm, interesting, are you going to kiss me or not?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Oh yeah come here."

You leaned towards her and cupped the side of her face with your left hand before bringing your lips together. Wony took that hand and caressed the back of it with her thumb, while the other one held onto your forearm. You could have kissed her for a while longer if it were up to you, but because of the location you had to settle for a few seconds.

"You did amazing tonight, my sweet girl," you said as you pulled away from her lips, looking into her eyes with your faces barely separated. "And god, you look fucking gorgeous."

"You think so? Thank you darling," she replied, looking at you with a sparkle in her eyes worthy of the most beautiful starry night. Then she looked you up and down. "You look very handsome too. Almost as perfect as me."

You let out a laugh, and you settled back into your seat to put a hand on the steering wheel.

"Sure, sure," you said, backing up and then squeezing past the vans and driving down the street. "You looked like Jesus Christ walking on water back there, and getting into a Ferrari on top of that. Not discreet at all."

"Honey, what can I do if I'm that pretty and you decided to have this thing?" she asked with a hand on her chest. "It's not my fault."

"I know it's not, but getting you out of there was a fucking problem," you said, looking at the road. "I really hope you're not in trouble, baby."

"I won't be, silly," she said, placing her hand over yours on the drive mode levers. "Is everything set up at the restaurant?"

"I called on the way to the venue to make sure, so yeah, there won't be any problems."

"Will we have company?"

"Uh... yeah, a baseball player and a model or some shit, with their dates of course. No one who cares about us being there."

"How do you know that?"

"I asked!" you replied, as if it were a stupid question. "Imagine if there happens to be a newspaper editor, we're screwed!"

Wony giggled, leaned over to cup the left side of your face and planted a delicate peck on your cheek.

"My sweet boy, you worry too much," she said, still close to your face. "Let yourself go and enjoy the night with me, please?"

You shouldn't have because you were on a busy road, but for a moment you took your eyes off the road only to turn your face and give her a quick succession of pecks on the lips.

"Hey!" she pulled away laughing, grabbing your chin to turn your face forward. "Don't kill us, donkey!"

You just smiled, and drove for a little over a minute until you remembered something you weren't going to let slide.

"Oh, were that guy's hands comfortable or...?"

"Huh?" Wony turned to look at you, having been caught off guard.

"The hands of the guy you danced with," you said. "They must have been really soft because you looked extremely comfortable in them."

Wony let out a laugh.

"Honey, are you jealous of a dancer I'll never see again?" she asked in disbelief.

"Nah."

Yeah you were. Not in a serious way, but you were willing to tease her about it for a while.

"Well, it's good you mention it because yes, his hands were quite soft," she said, shifting her gaze to her window.

It was serious now.

"Oh, okay," you nodded slowly, and tightened your hand on the steering wheel. "You should tell him to take you to dinner then."

Wony looked at you, and out of the corner of your eye you noticed the mischievous smile on her face.

"I can actually call him right now if you want."

"Yup, go ahead," you nodded with a carefree wave of your hand.

Your face must have been a picture at that moment, because she made a move to take her phone out of her handbag but quickly retracted.

"Honey, I'm kidding!" she said with a giggle, shaking your arm to get you to take your resting bitch face off. "Don't be like that!"

"Don't talk to me right now."

Wony was quiet for a moment, waiting for you to say you were joking too.

"Are you serious?" she asked, and your response was silence. "Alright, I won't talk then."

Then, in a move you should have expected, Wony kicked off her heels, climbed onto her knees in her seat, and bent over your crotch in a perfect arc that highlighted her wide hips and cute ass.

"What are you doing?" you frowned, lifting one arm to rest on her back.

"Just what you asked me to do: no talking," she replied, and began working on the button and zipper of your pants.

"That's not what... oh fuck you," you gasped, as Wony pulled out your limp cock and licked it from balls to top.

You couldn't form a single word of protest from then on. Wony took you into her mouth, sucking you several times until your cock grew and hardened between her spongy lips. Now fully hard, she placed both hands on your thighs and slowly pumped her head up and down the length of your shaft, using her tongue to lick the front with each pump.

Wony's blowjobs were usually messy and frenetic since she was prodigious at it, but you were surprised when she now opted for a slower, more leisurely pace, allowing you to enjoy the silkiness of her lips and the texture of her glossy lipstick in detail. It was perfect, because it was driving you crazy and at the same time it kept you from getting dirty for your night.

When you stopped at a red light you could finally look down and admire how she pumped her head at different angles to suck and lick every possible corner of your shaft. Then you turned to the right to see her raised ass. You couldn’t lift her dress up, so you had to settle for groping over it. Wony purposely moaned around your cock, and then you couldn't help but remove your hand from her ass and put it on her neck to push her down. She was forced to deepthroat you, but it wasn't a problem due to her skill at it, so she effortlessly held you there for a few long seconds until she pulled you out with a soft gasp.

"Are you sucking my jealousy off or what?" you gasped, forced to look at the road again.

Wony certainly didn't respond, she was determined to make you cum as fast and hard as possible, so after a few kisses and licks around your tip she took you back into her mouth, now helping herself with her hand to jerk you off at the same time.

She brought you to the edge of climax in no time, and the only possible place you could reach your hand was on her slim waist, while you unconsciously twisted your hips upwards and let out soft moans. Deducing that you were close, Wony dispensed with her hand and went back to using only her mouth, now with slightly faster and shorter pumps. Not even ten seconds passed when you exploded inside her mouth.

"Oh god!" you moaned, tempted to put your hand on her head to push it down if it weren’t because that would ruin her bun.

Jets of cum were discharged one after another into Wony's mouth, who pumped her head very slowly over every inch of throbbing flesh. You used all your brain power in order not to swerve and drive as straight as possible, in fact, you had to use the steering wheel manettino to put the driving mode on comfort, but that caused you to slow down and a couple of cars behind you to honk. You couldn't do much about it, since your toes were still curled and your legs tense as you filled her mouth.

When your climax finally passed you came back to your senses and stepped on the accelerator so as not to disturb the cars behind you, still breathing heavily. After swallowing your entire load, Wony pulled you out of her mouth with a soft pop, and raised herself to get closer to your ear.

"You're not just the only guy I've ever let cum in my mouth or on my face," she whispered with a hand on your thigh. "You're also the only guy whose cum I could have for breakfast every morning without getting tired. Keep that in mind before throwing another jealous fit," she then licked your cheek from jaw to cheekbone. "I fucking belong to you, and I have zero interest in anyone else."

Another fucking hook straight to the chin, and this was your knockout. There was no way you were recovering from that.

"Do you have anything else to say besides 'I'm sorry'?" she asked, tucking your cock back into your boxers and adjusting your pants back up.

"I... no," you shook your head slowly. "Sorry, babe."

"Good boy," she said, giving you a peck on the cheek before settling back into her seat.

There was still a long way to go to the Shilla hotel and there wasn't much else to talk about at the moment, so you opted to connect into the car's sound system and put on some chill songs from your playlist.

It was a nice trip, one of the most peaceful and satisfying you had ever had with someone. Even though you weren't talking, the simple fact of knowing that you had each other fulfilled you, that was evident by how you constantly sought out each other's contact, whether it was holding your hands or placing your hands on your thighs. Ironic to say the least. Three months ago, imagining yourself in that situation with her would have seemed unpleasant, almost blasphemous, and now it felt like a lucid dream from which you didn't want to wake up.

For fucks sake, you were in love. And it was all thanks to her and the time you had spent together since that night in Tokyo. At first you were a little skeptical, but you made the excellent decision to give her the benefit of the doubt. Of course, she didn't disappoint you, as she took advantage of her opportunity to show herself just as she wanted you to see her. From that moment on, it only took a couple of weeks for her to take over your heart and secure herself with iron feet

She was your princess now, she belonged to you and you wanted to give her everything. Fucking cheesy, but you loved it.

"Alright, this is what we're going to do," you said, already a couple of minutes away from arriving at the hotel. "A bodyguard will accompany you inside while I park the car, then we'll meet in the lobby."

"Can't I just stay with you to park and then go in together?" Wony asked, annoyed.

"Honey, we already took quite a risk picking you up from the venue, and that was even in a controlled environment."

"Ugh fine," she said. "But just this once!"

"I think you keep forgetting who you are, what country you live in, and what kind of fans you have," you replied, turning a corner after a stoplight.

"Fuck that. Someone needs to normalize it someday."

"And you wanna be that someone? In the prime of your career?"

"It happened to Jennie when she dated Kai!" she protested. "No one cared and everyone got over it."

"That's a completely different context."

"In what way?"

"Jennie dated a guy who is deified here, and you are dating a guy who makes a fool of himself on the internet and has more than one stupid controversy for the stuff he says. Do you think that benefits you right now?"

"Honey, how do you know if it benefits me or not?" Wony asked.

"You're perfect in front of the cameras. Literally the perfect idol."

"So what?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "I am... I don't know."

Wony chuckled.

"Your problem is that you're not as exemplary as I am in the public eye?"

"Aha."

"Why do you care?"

At that point you made a left turn and entered the slope that curved across the hill towards the hotel, which took up the entire view in the distance.

"Fuck, I don't know Vicky," you sighed. "I just don't want it to lead to anything bad for you, that's all."

Wony put her hand on yours, squeezed it, and then brought it to her lips to kiss the back of it.

"Gosh, what did I do to deserve you," she said. "Just trust me darling, I wouldn't be so sure if I didn't know what I was doing."

You remained silent as you made your way through the last stretch of the hill and rounded the bend to park in front of the smaller, wider, traditionally-styled building that housed the hotel lobby and a few luxury shops. The bodyguard who was supposed to escort Wony inside was already waiting by her door, hands clasped together and eyes scanning everywhere.

"I'm going to ask you one last time..." you said, and turned to look at her. "Are you sure about all of this? About everything you've told me? We're getting into murky territory, darling."

"Thousand percent," Wony nodded, looking into your eyes.

You nodded back and then looked at the bodyguard, who was still waiting behind the white line that delimited the drivable area from the walkable area. You were thinking about something, seriously considering it, and if you did, there was no turning back. Maybe it was a stretch to think so, but it could be a life-changing decision.

Fuck it, you were no weakling.

"Aight, just for the record, you asked for it," you said, then reached an arm in front of her to roll down her window. The bodyguard immediately leaned when he saw you looking at him. "Good evening, Mr. Cho. Are any of these spots free?" you pointed behind him.

"Oh, yes," he nodded. "Follow my directions, please."

The bodyguard walked over the white line and stood in front of your car, then began walking backwards to guide you to an open space in front of a sedan with tinted windows.

"Uhm... what are you doing, sweetie?" Wony looked at you with a frown. "Wasn’t I supposed to...?"

"Stai zitto, amore," you said, focused on not running over Mr. Cho.

"Non voglio!" she replied back in Italian, and you laughed.

"You've been practicing huh?" you raised an eyebrow, finally parking in the spot you were told to.

"Well yeah! I want to be able to scold you in your language someday."

You pressed the touch button on the steering wheel twice to turn off both the engine and the car.

"You can do it in Japanese, and without me knowing what the fuck you're saying," you said with a smile, grabbing the car's remote to put it in a pocket of your coat.

"The point is that you know what I'm saying, baby, not the other way around."

"We'll have to work hard at the private lessons then," you winked at her, then got out of the car to walk around and open the door for Wony, offering her your hand.

"Huh? Really?" she asked, looking at your hand, her mouth agape and a cute glint in her eyes.

"You have my unconditional trust, my sweet girl," you said.

Wony looked into your eyes, blinked a few times, and took your hand to slide her legs out of the car. Then, as soon as you closed the passenger door, she stood in front of you with her hands on your chest and planted a sweet kiss on your lips, in full view of whoever was passing by at the moment or watching.

You couldn't help but smile at the boldness of that damn girl.

"Come on, let's go inside," you said, and put an arm behind her waist to hold her and walk into the lobby with her.

Upon entering, you went straight to the reception desk to check in, it was then that you were told that you were allowed to take the elevator up to the restaurant floor. Mr. Cho escorted you upstairs, and led you to a small foyer before the dining area.

“I’ll wait outside if you need anything, Mr. Leone,” he said, and then opened the double doors in front of you.

“Thank you, Mr. Cho,” you nodded, and walked past Wony into the restaurant.

The dining room was a small, elegant and refined space, with cream-colored walls decorated with subtle textured patterns and nice warm lighting provided by circular hanging metal lamps. On the other hand, the floor was covered by a beige interwoven carpet, and the tables, dressed with crisp white tablecloths, were accompanied by champagne-colored chairs with curved backs and metallic details. To your left was a mirrored wall, with a pair of decorative panels with red-to-gold gradients, and to your right, three windows separated by pillars, which provided a beautiful view of Seoul.

The other two couples that would be there that night besides you were already inside, one settled in on the left and the other on the right at the back. You didn't know the baseball player who was there since you didn't like the sport, but the model turned out to be Yoon Young Bae, who had done campaigns for Gucci and Prada in the past. Your table was the one next to hers.

If it had been another occasion and another place, you would have asked for a photo, but for the moment you only settled for a bow to both her and the rest of the people present. Then you focused on your date.

“Here, your grace,” you said, opening the chair for Wony.

“Thank you, dear,” she replied with a nod, and took a seat with her handbag on her lap. You placed your hands on her shoulders, which caught her attention and made her turn to look up at you.

“I have a surprise for you before we start,” you said.

Wony raised both eyebrows.

“Surprise? For me?” she placed a hand on her chest.

“Aha, close your eyes baby.”

Wony complied and looked straight ahead before closing her eyes. You pulled the turquoise gift box out of one of your inner pockets, placed it in front of her face, and opened it to reveal the necklace you had bought her, a Tiffany Victoria Diamond Vine worth around $150k. A figure that might have made you sweat 6 months ago, but now, having also finished paying for your apartment, was chump change.

"Alright, open," you said.

When Wony opened her eyes and saw the necklace she immediately gasped and brought her hands to her mouth in surprise. She turned to look at you, and then back at the necklace. And then back at you, and then back at the necklace.

"Baby, oh my f..." she was about to curse, but remembered where she was and retracted her words. "Oh my god!"

"Come on, take it," you nodded, handing the box into her hands.

Wony examined the necklace inside the box for a couple more seconds before pulling it out and setting the box on the table.

"Ezio, it's gorgeous!" she said, putting the necklace between her fingers to get a closer look at the diamonds embedded in the platinum. "It's too much, really, you didn't have to..."

"Nuh-uh," you hushed her. "Yes, I had to, it's the least you deserve, my sweet girl," you then leaned down and showered her cheek with kisses.

"Thank you, darling, I swear I don't know what to say," Wony said, still stunned, turning her face to meet your lips and give them a small kiss since the place didn't allow more, out of respect for the other diners.

"You don't have to say anything, the important thing is that you liked it."

"I love it!" she corrected you. "Would you help me?"

"Sure," you nodded.

You helped Wony change her necklace, taking off the one she already had and putting on the one you had given her instead. You stood by her side to see how it looked, and you realized that it was probably one of the best investments of your life, as the diamonds enhanced her royal aura and fit perfectly on her beautiful neck.

After helping her with the necklace and taking a couple of pictures for your personal memory, you finally took the seat on the other side of the table. A few seconds later, a waiter was with you, ready to take your order. First you ordered your starters and drinks, Hamachi Usuzukuri for you and Kumamoto Fresh Oysters for her, accompanied by a bottle of Barolo DOCG Red Wine. After about 45 minutes you moved on to the main course, and another half hour later you were eating dessert.

"So what do you have to do in the next few days?" you asked, with your Matcha Tiramisu half-eaten. "You must have the day off tomorrow, I guess."

Your entire conversation in those almost two hours had been based on her telling you all about her days at both MAMA and MMA, and how stressful it was to have to attend to all that with comeback preparations just around the corner. You also talked about your job, but no matter what you said, nothing created a worse mental burden than hers.

"Yeah tomorrow I'm free," Wony replied, looking at her Raspberry Lychee Mochi. "But this week we have the live for the IVE anniversary and the recording of a 1,2,3 IVE, with zombies."

"Zombies?" you raised an eyebrow.

Wony nodded, cutting off a small piece of mochi and popping it into her mouth while you drank your wine. The bottle was already a few fingers less than half full. She had liked it a lot more than you expected.

"Uhm, I don't really have much of an idea of ​​what we're going to do but I know we'll have helmets with cameras."

You chuckled.

"Oh, that's going to be fun," you said with a smile. "You know, watching you run around."

"That's what you say, but I'll be terrified!"

As she spoke your phone vibrated in your pocket. Checking it you saw that it was texts from Rina, and thinking it wasn't important you ignored her for the moment. But about five minutes later the phone vibrated again repeatedly. Somewhat annoyed, you pulled out your phone again to open the chat, only to let out a slight bitter groan.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Wony asked, seeing you staring at the screen with a frown. You just showed her your phone. "This has to be a joke." she said as she finished reading.

"At least she had the decency to wait until this hour," you said, and with a heavy breath you began to share a few messages with her.

"So? What are we going to do?" Wony asked, not looking at you but at the view of Seoul through the window. She definitely wasn't happy at all.

"We were going home anyway, right?" you replied. "Just that well, we'll have some company."

"Yeah, that's what I didn't want," she said, one side of her face resting on her knuckles.

"Baby," you reached across the table and took her hand. "Tomorrow I'll be all yours, all day. It'll just be this early morning."

"Can't you just tell them to go away?"

"That would be too rude of me, sweetie, I'm not like that."

"Yeah, that's why I like you this much, ugh," she rolled her eyes and finally looked at you. "But I don't want it to be a recurring thing, for real. I'll let it go this time because they're already there."

"I get it babe," you nodded. "It won't happen again."

"When I'm with you I want you to be all to myself," she said, gently squeezing your hand. "I hate sharing, and you know that."

"I know that perfectly well," you nodded again. "And you have my word."

"Alright then let's go,” she let go of your hand. “I don't want to keep them waiting so late."

"Huh? Right now?"

"Yup, let's just order this to go."

"Aight, if you say so."

You called the waiter over and asked him to give you the bill and take the rest of the desserts to take away. After about ten minutes, with everything already taken care of, you and Wony left the hotel to get in the car and head to your apartment.

On the way you couldn't think of anything else but how you were going to kill Rina as soon as you saw her. She had been acting like that ever since that night you and Isa spent together, and you understood perfectly why because you felt something similar. But she was also prone to doing that, to showing up without full notice hoping that you would make time for her. You never had a problem with it, but this was the first time it coincided with something more important.

It was partly your fault tho, and you had to admit it. That night you had let out a side of you that was probably the closest to Podrick Payne in terms of sex that you had ever been in your life. Rina had been absolutely delighted with you thanks to that, but she hadn't been the only one,; you were kinda obsessed as well, because she was bordering on the perfection of sex appeal: amazing tits, pretty ass, perfect thighs, hot tummy, face card to die for and adorably fun personality.

And on top of that, she was the purest definition of a bottom you had ever seen in your life, surpassing even Sullyoon, which in itself was a big deal.

In fact, you had a feeling that you were going to get into a big mess because of your sexual chemistry with her, but you weren't going to give it any thought at that moment.

After about 20 minutes of a quiet ride, you finally arrived at your apartment complex, parked the car in your assigned spot and went with Wony straight to the ground floor of your building. There, Rina and Aeri were waiting, sitting on the edge of the artificial mini waterfall to the left of the elevator while looking at something on Rina's phone.

"May I know why you're still wearing those clothes?" you asked, approaching, now in English because you knew that everyone there spoke it—maybe Rina a little less—, seeing that they were still in stage outfits under their hats and wide down jackets.

"Because we haven't gone home," Rina answered, standing up to walk towards the two of you with Aeri, who greeted Wony with a smile and a reciprocal hug. "We went to get something to eat because Minjeong-ah was craving something and we felt like having some fun," she switched back to Korean.

"By invading my house?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, as Wony now hugged Rina. You thanked god that they had a good relationship with each other. "You literally live alone."

"Yeah, but my apartment was further away than yours," she shrugged. "And your balcony has a better view than mine."

You sighed, and nodded for everyone to follow you to the elevator.

"Did something happen with Minjeong and Ning? It's weird that they're not here too," you said back in English, and pressed a button for the elevator to go down.

"They were both exhausted and wanted to sleep," Aeri replied behind you.

"Just like Liz," Wony said beside you, holding your hand.

"It's because they're the main vocals, and we all sing live," Rina said with a sigh.

A ding sounded and the elevator doors opened. The four of you stepped inside, Wony standing in front of you and Rina and Aeri at your sides. You pressed the button that would take you to the 28th floor, and the doors closed again.

"You sing quite a bit in all the songs too, how come you're not exhausted too?" you asked.

"Because my desire to s-... to drink was greater than my exhaustion," Rina replied, and as you turned to look at her she avoided your gaze. You had noticed what she was going to say, but you hoped Wony hadn't.

"I don't see any bottles anywhere, woman," you said upon realization. "Do you think I have a liquor store at home or what?"

"Ah, it's because we don't have a car and you do," Aeri replied. "It's easier than telling our manager to drive us."

"Then why on earth are we going up to the flat when we could have gone right now!" you yelled.

"Because we're going to change clothes, duh," Rina said.

You let out a tired sigh, closed your eyes, and leaned your head back against the wall. Wony on the other hand couldn't help but laugh.

"What a bloody pain in the ass," you whispered to yourself.

A few seconds later the elevator arrived at your floor. The doors opened, and Wony stepped ahead of the three of you to lead the way.

"Are we all going?" you asked as you made your way down the hall.

"I'll stay, sweetheart," Wony said in front of you. "I don't feel like another car ride today."

"Can I stay with her?" Aeri asked as you now took the lead since the next door was yours. "So we can cook something for the guests."

You paused with your key and gaze on the lock, then blinked a few times and took a deep breath.

"Guests?" you asked quietly, not wanting to get upset.

"It'll be a few people!" Rina said before you imploded. "We don't mean to make a fuss, really."

"And you can invite someone too, don't you have any friends?" Aeri asked.

You sighed.

"Yeah but it's 2:30 in the morning," you said, and finally opened the door to immediately find Rory and Helios waiting on the other side. "Hi babies."

"Ahhhh hi sweetie!" Rina squealed back in Korean, immediately scooping Rory into her arms as you all filed into the apartment. She was her darling.

"Girl, we're going to have to look up recipes online because I have no idea how to cook," Wony said, probably talking to Aeri as you dropped your stuff on the dining table and went to close the window blinds.

"Do you know how to chop things and turn on a stove?" Aeri asked.

"Uhu."

"Then you're useful."

"Hey, you," you pointed at Rina, who was standing in the middle of the living room with Rory still in her arms. "Hurry up and change, it's not 4 o'clock."

"Aw, I'll have to keep giving you kisses later, Rory," she said to your cat, then set her down before looking at you. "I'm going to your room."

"Ash you wish but come on," you hurried her over with a wave of your hand.

Rina, being the obedient sub that she was, hurried down the hall and into your room. You took off your coat, left it on one of the living room chairs and waited for her near the hallway exit. Ten minutes later she came out, dressed in the outfit she had worn to the awards carpet only without the bow in her hair, now loose and with pretty curls.

The two of you left the apartment and went straight to the elevator. You went in first, and as soon as you turned around, Rina surprised you by throwing her arms around your neck and crashing her lips flooragainst yours. It was then that you realized why you were really rushing her so much, because you wrapped your arms around her and kissed her back without a shred of hesitation.

After pressing the button for the ground floor, you instinctively leaned against the wall of the elevator, Rina's perfect body pressed against yours and your arms around her waist. The kiss heated up quickly, and before you knew it you were already groping each other, her hand rubbing your cock through your pants and you squeezing her firm ass cheeks through your dress. You hadn't even thought about it, it was something that came out of pure instinct.

"Would you fuck me in here daddy? Please?" she asked softly, between kisses that became more passionate and sloppy by the second and with a squeeze to your already hard bulge.

"Here and now?" you asked back, with both hands on her ass. "Are you that horny today?"

"Mhum," she nodded with a moan against your lips, unbuttoning your pants and lowering the zipper. "Very much daddy. Just looking at you makes me so horny."

"Can't you wait until later when things are hotter?" You said that, but your hands had lifted her short dress up to her waist and were now busy squeezing her soft, spongy, delicious ass cheeks.

"Aniyo, I want you now," she replied, taking your cock out from inside your boxers to stroke it. "Those three daesang don't celebrate themselves."

"Fuck, that's right," you said, pulling away from her lips for a moment to look into her eyes. "Congratulations baby."

"Thanks, but I need you to fuck me right now," she said, and kissed you again.

The make out session went on for a while longer as she pulled your pants and boxers down to mid-thigh so she could stroke your cock comfortably; as it was already throbbing too much between her fingers, you decided to grab her by the waist, turn her around and bend her against the right wall of the elevator. Just as the doors opened.

Thank god it was early in the morning and there wasn't a soul awake in your building, because that would have been the most embarrassing experience of your life.

"Oopsies," you said, and pressed the button for the top floor, the 40th.

With the doors closed again you could focus on your favorite cum slut again. Rina had her pretty cake ready for you and her hands resting on the mirror. Normally you would have yanked her panties off, but these were just too pretty, black lace with subtle embroidery and fine stitching, so you just pulled them away to her left butt cheek.

"How long has it been since you had something inside that warm pussy?" you asked, and you spit on your cock to lubricate it and rub the tip between her silky folds.

Rina turned to look at you with wide pupils and a parted mouth.

"Since the last time you fucked me daddy," she replied. "I've been a good girl."

"Not even your fingers?"

"Nothing. Only you and your cock deserve that privilege."

You smiled, and slowly took your cock inside her to admire how that gorgeous face twisted in pleasure as her folds engulfed your shaft inch by inch. When you reached the bottom both you and she moaned at the same time, and you put your hands on her hips to give her slow pumps until the friction was reduced to almost a minimum.

"Mmmm fuck," Rina moaned, biting the entire width of her bottom lip. "I missed your cock so much."

"Oh yeah?" you asked with a gasp, slipping your hand under her bunched up dress to rest on her soft lower back. "But it's only been a week, baby."

"I don't fucking care," she replied, watching as you fucked her harder and harder and made her ass cheeks jiggle. "Every second that passes without you inside me is torture."

"Such a slut huh?" you asked through clenched teeth, now with both hands on her waist under her dress.

"Mhum," she nodded with a cute moan. "Just for you daddy."

You kept up that strong but steady pace for a while, not wanting to sweat and feel uncomfortable under the sweater you were wearing. She didn't care that you weren't the absolute animal you always were with her, it was enough with the little effort you were putting in and your good use of your skills to make her cum.

But just as you reached the 40th floor and the doors opened.

"Mmmgh fuck! This thing is going to give me a heart attack!" Rina moaned between spasms and moans, cumming around your cock as you pressed the button for the second floor; you weren't going to risk getting to the ground floor and having the security guard of your building see you by chance.

"Do I have to remind you who had the idea to have sex in an elevator?" you asked as the doors closed again.

"Shut up!" she squealed back in Korean, still going through the vestiges of orgasm.

"Make me."

Feeling challenged, Rina pushed herself off the wall and grabbed the back of your neck with her right arm to crash her lips against yours. You held her against you, your left arm around her abdomen and one hand on her neck. You started fucking her faster, but not too much, just enough to hasten your own climax.

"You can't cum inside me, can you?" She asked between gasps against your lips, fingers gripping the back of your neck and looking into your eyes.

"Not if you want to be sticky down there the whole ride," you replied, lowering your arm from around her abdomen to place your hand on her pussy and rub it. "The only option is for you to swallow it."

Rina took a moment to organize her words, as between the cock in and out of her pussy and the fingers rubbing in circles she had been paralyzed with pleasure for a few seconds, her mouth half open and nothing but muffled sounds coming out of her throat.

"G-god I don't know!" she managed to say against your lips. "Just cum, I don't care where."

Perfect. That was just the trigger you needed.

You grabbed one of Rina's thighs and lifted it up to your chest, forcing her to hold herself sideways against the elevator wall. It was the moment you decided to get intense and give her pussy hard thrusts, shaking her whole body and making her tits bounce under her dress. She reached a second orgasm while you were fucking her, but she controlled herself so you could keep going. You felt yourself coming just moments later.

"On your knees baby," you said between gasps as you pulled out of her pussy.

Rina complied and got on her knees, then grabbed your cock, stuck her tongue out and masturbated you furiously with your tip pressed against her tongue. It only took a few strokes for you to explode in Rina's mouth, who let you watch as your entire load pooled on her tongue. She then took you inside her mouth and began sucking off what was left in your tank, and didn't stop until you were empty.

But what you hadn't realized was that the elevator doors were wide open. Still breathing heavily, you turned your head to look down the second floor hallway and make sure no one was watching.

"Remind me not to listen to you again," you gasped, pressing the button that would take you to the ground floor. "I'm going to get tachycardia from this."

Rina pulled you out of her mouth after swallowing your load and stood up on slightly shaky legs, adjusting her panties and pulling her dress back down.

"But it was fun wasn't it?" she asked with a giggle, as you pulled up your pants and boxers. Just then you reached the ground floor.

"Oh yeah, a fucking roller coaster ride," you replied, and grabbed her hand to finally pull her out of the elevator. She intertwined her fingers with yours.

"And you like roller coaster rides?" Rina asked, leaning forward to look at you.

"Nope."

"Mmm, and what about me?" she pointed at herself. "Do you like me?"

"More than I'd like to."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" she asked as you walked out of the building to your car.

"I guess you'll find out later," you said, and then quickly changed the subject. "Hey, we can pick up two people on the way, so I recommend you let them know so they can get ready."

"Just two?"

You pressed the button on your remote to unlock the car doors and opened your door to slide in. Rina did the same with hers.

"I don't know if you notice that my back seats are single-seaters, woman," you said, pressing the touch button on the steering wheel just once to start the car's battery. "Call. No time to waste."

"You're not inviting anyone over?" Rina asked, pulling her phone out of her handbag.

"Fuck, I forgot," you reached out to the car's dashboard to touch the touch screen of the rotary dial and turn on the car's air calefaction in order to counteract the cold outside. "In that case it would have to be just one person. And you too."

"Oh don't worry, I know who I want us to pick up."

But you didn't.

First you'd rule out the people who would definitely be with someone else. Like for example, the guys from ATEEZ and your two friends from The Boyz. You texted Mingi and then Kim Sunwoo.

After texting them both came the real dilemma. Who the fuck were you going to pick up? It had to be one damn person, which left you with quite a few options, but you had a couple already in mind. First you had to take a shot with the Taiwanese princess, who responded pretty quickly.

She responded to that last message, but you decided to ignore her on purpose. Perfect, one of the few options ruled out. Next was Sohyun, but she didn't respond, probably because she was asleep. You tried Nana, but she was asleep too. No one from NMIXX or STAYC was in the cards; both groups weren't even in Korea at the time, neither was Somi. NewJeans of course, also ruled out. That left you with the Fromis girls, and you were sure none of them would be awake by now.

Except one. But in order to catch her attention, you had to call her.

“Hi?” Jiheon answered from the other end of the line. She never failed to be just as much of a night owl as you.

“Hey, do you want me to pick you up?” you asked. “We’ll be drinking at home.”

“Ah, you know I do,” she said. “Are you with someone?”

“With Rina, I don’t know if you two have met yet. Also Wonyoung and Aeri, and more people are coming.”

“Oh! Yujinie is going?” she asked, since the two of them were close.

“I have no idea. As far as I know she went to her house tired, but you know how that girl is.”

“Aw… well, I’ll get ready. Call me when you get here.”

You then hung up and turned to look at Rina, who had also been talking on the phone at the same time as you.

"Can we go now?" you asked.

"Yep," she nodded. "Who were you talking to?"

"Jiheonie," you finally replied, starting the engine. "And you?"

"Eunbie-unnie."

"Kwon...?" you stepped on the gas and pulled out of your parking spot heading towards the dorm's exit.

"Hwang. You know, GFriend... Viv..."

"Yeah yeah, the girl whose ass you couldn't stop staring at in that challenge."

"I wasn't!-"

"Yes you were."

That left her silent, with a frown and a cute pout.

First you went to buy the alcohol, a fucking difficult task since it was a Sunday at 3 in the morning and very few liquor stores were open, but after driving around downtown Seoul for a few times you ended up finding one. You had no idea if people would bring their own alcohol, so you opted to buy everything at once, an expense that you split in half with Rina.

With that done, you headed to the address Rina had given you to pick up SinB. The short-haired woman was already waiting on the street under a streetlight, bundled up in a cream-colored jacket and white cargo pants; she was also wearing a cap and a face mask. You parked next to her, and she got in the right back seat.

"Whose idea was it?" she asked. "I was pretty comfortable in my bed."

"Whose idea do you think it was?" you asked, pulling away again, now heading to pick up Jiheon.

"The only one that makes it look like it's not 7 degrees?"

"Exactly."

"In my defense, I love this dress and wanted to show it off," Rina said.

SinB chuckled.

"Well you're going to die of hypothermia from showing off your legs and shoulders," she said.

"Then it will have been worth it."

"Slut..." you muttered in English under your breath.

"What was that?" Rina looked at you.

"Huh?" you played dumb, and she stared at you for a few seconds. "I don't know what you're looking at, I didn't say anything."

"Liar..." she muttered, but you heard her.

You arrived at the next stop only about five minutes later. You called her, and she got down a couple minutes later.

Apparently, Rina wasn't the only one who wanted to show off that night, because even though Jiheon was wearing a black and white striped sweater with a furry jacket, she was also wearing a short black skirt that showed off her delicious long legs adorned with fishnet stockings.

"Hi!" she greeted everyone as she climbed into the last available seat. She hadn't recognized SinB, and doing so nearly gave her a heart attack. "Omo omo omo. Ah! Hi! I'm a huge fan. Ah ottoke!"

"Have you really never met?" Rina asked as SinB and Jiheon greeted each other.

"No," SinB replied. "We've met at shows but always from a distance."

Jiheon nodded.

"Ah, interesting," Rina said.

"Hey, you guys like speed?" you asked, realizing that the streets were completely empty at that hour, and surely the highway you were supposed to take was too.

"No, don't even dream about it," Jiheon said immediately, already knowing your intentions.

"My pretty honey nougat, I don't know if you've noticed, but it's 3am and I want to get home."

"Ezio, there's snow on the streets," Rina told you. "They're wet. Do you want to die?"

"I don't think a $700,000 SUV is going to kill us. Chill."

"Just step on the gas," SinB said. "Come on, come on."

Jiheon put a hand on your shoulder and whined repeatedly for you not to do it, but ignoring her, you put the car into wet mode and floored the gas. She and Rina squealed in fear, but you and SinB were having a blast with the sound of the engine and the speed you were going. The really funny moment was when you entered the highway, where you had a long straightaway where you reached 150km/h in just a couple seconds. Rina was clinging to you so tightly that she was almost going to tear your arm off, and Jiheon was going to deafen you with her screams. On the other hand, you and SinB could do nothing but laugh.

When you exited the highway and were forced to slow down considerably, Rina and Jiheon shook you around with little bumps, pushes, and scoldings. They could be as upset as they wanted, but you were sure that you had cut at least half of the 10-minute trip.

"Open the damn doors before I kill you," Jiheon said behind you as you parked the car in your spot and turned off the engine.

"Oh, they were already open," you said after checking.

"Did we do that damn race without the locks on?!" Rina shrieked to your right, then opened her door. “Oh my god!”

You shrugged.

“I didn’t know,” you said, and Jiheon pulled your ear. “Ouch!”

SinB opened her door and got out, followed by the other two.

“Hey! It was fun!” SinB came to your defense, still giggling.

You got out, closed your door, and headed straight to the trunk.

“Unnie! Don’t defend him!” Jiheon shrieked to your left, arms crossed as you put down the bags of bottles. You handed her one to carry, and she didn’t object despite being angry. “He did it completely on purpose just to give us a hard time!”

“Yeah! Look at him smiling!” Rina protested to your right. You handed her a bag as well.

“Wah, are they always this whiny?” SinB asked behind you as you closed the trunk and handed her a bag. You grabbed the only one left.

"One is worse than the other. I won't say who. Come on."

"I'm not whiny!" Rina and Jiheon protested at the same time, causing you and SinB to burst out laughing.

You entered your building and headed straight for the elevator. At that moment your gaze happened to go to the floor, and you noticed that near the right wall of the elevator there was a stain that looked like...

You immediately stood on top of it so that no one else could see it. You locked eyes with Rina, and from the way she looked back at you, she had noticed it too, and had to make an inhuman effort to hold back her laughter.

As you walked up to your apartment the aroma of freshly made food greeted you. Wony and Aeri were both in the kitchen, going back and forth chopping, frying, and roasting ingredients. They already had appetizers made, including a bowl full of Caprese, which was basically tomato, fresh mozzarella, and basil. The idea had been Wony's, who told you that they had looked up Italian recipes online for the things they were going to cook. You were grateful for the detail, but something told you that Aeri had something to do with it, probably as compensation for invading your house without full notice at 2 in the morning.

The guests started arriving not long after. First came the boys from ATEEZ, and then Sunwoo and Juyeon. To your surprise Yujin came too, and Aeri's guests were a guy you didn't know and Yunjin from Lesserafim, a girl with whom you had only shared a few words every time you had met her.

You were glad that the 'party' had turned out as Rina and Aeri had promised: healthy fun without fuss, which wasn't too difficult considering the number of people there.

At first, everyone was with their own little group. You and Wony were of course together all the time, and you were joined from time to time by Aeri and Rina along with SinB, Yunjin and the other guy who you later found out was called Haon and was a rapper. Jiheon and Yujin, being as close as they were, were also like two peas in a pod, primarily talking to the guys from Ateez and The Boyz.

But as divided as you all were, from a certain point in the early morning the group started to become more and more homogeneous, until finally you all started talking, laughing, and drinking together. You had a great time, and luckily for you, you knew Wony had too, despite having seemed unhappy a few hours ago.

Your calculations regarding the amount of alcohol you bought turned out to be incorrect, as many of them had a fairly low resistance to alcohol and had gotten drunk faster than you expected (Jiheon was the first to fall, to no one's surprise). This led to you being left with about 3 bottles of vodka and two bottles of whiskey unopened on the table. You weren't much of a drinker on your own, so you ended up telling the guys to take everything home.

By 8am everyone was gone, leaving only you, Wony, Rina and Aeri, lying on the couch staring at the ceiling. You were all drunk—maybe Rina and Aeri a little more so—not to the point of vomiting in every corner of the house and stumbling around everywhere, but you still knew that the four of you were dizzy.

"Great, I just needed to mess up my bloody sleep schedule again," you said, lying with your hands on your chest on the right wing of the couch, which also functioned as a bed. You had your head resting on one of Wony's thighs, and she was leaning against the wall with her legs spread out between the backrest and Rina's body.

"And we have a trip tomorrow," Rina said, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I don't think this was the most responsible thing to do."

"Oh, you think so?" you asked sarcastically.

"Hey, can you please understand me? I won't have any days off for like two weeks!"

"You know, I just find it funny that you're the two oldest in your group and at the same time the most reckless," Wony said with a giggle, caressing your hair.

"Oh mind your own business, little princess," Aeri said from the other side of the couch. She was lying face down, her dress rolled up to her thighs to highlight her ass.

"But don't be mad at me!" Wony said, still between tipsy giggles. "It's not like I'm lying."

"You're the prettiest and most elegant in your group and who knows how many times you've choked on your boyfriend's cock. That’s worst"

Yikes. Now that was a counterattack.

Flabbergasted, you kept your gaze on the ceiling. You could only hear a discreet laugh from Rina.

"I do it all the time and I love it, so what? You try to put me on the ropes bitch?" Wony asked.

Aeri let out a giggle.

"I certainly wouldn't mind tying you up with ropes," she said. "That would be hot."

"Weren't you mad at me a second ago?!"

"I'm still here, just so you know," you said.

"Oh yeah, right," Aeri looked at you. "Tell me something, Ezio, do you like Japanese cake?"

"Ah... the cheesecake that's fluffy and tasty?" you asked, genuinely clueless about the true intent of the question.

"Wah, I love Japanese cheesecake," Rina added. "It's like eating a marshmallow."

"Hey! I was just talking to you!" Wony protested, and threw a pillow at Aeri that went over her and fell into the dining room.

"Nuh uh, I'll ask you again, and look at me," Aeri said, and you turned your head to look at her. "You like Japanese cake?"

As she asked that, she grabbed the dress and pulled it up over her waist, revealing her tasty bubble butt adorned by a burgundy thong.

"Ahhh! Don't look!" Wony squealed, and covered your eyes with both hands, but you had already seen what you needed to see.

You heard Aeri giggle.

"I'm just kidding, princess," she said. "No need to get worked up. Or are you afraid he'll get a boner from my ass?"

Wony wasn't blocking your view properly, so you could still see that wonderful ass perfectly. In that state it was impossible for you to control what you thought, and the inevitable happened.

"Ah, he already has it, look," you heard Rina say, and when Wony removed her hands from in front of your face, you saw Rina pointing at the hard bulge in your pants, which Aeri was staring at.

"That's only because it was a dirty move!" Wony protested. "You're such a slut!"

"Better not say it too much, because I'm starting to believe it and get horny," Aeri said with a giggle.

"He's my boyfriend!" Wony crossed her thighs around your head, in a fit of pure possessive instinct that felt like heaven. "Mine!"

"Well, girl," Aeri stood up, and with her dress still bunched up around her waist, went to sit on the edge of the end of the couch, right between your feet. The dress she was wearing left very little to the imagination, with that bare straight back that could drive the sanest man crazy, and her ass looked amazing in that thong and position, she just had to... take off the dress, which she did. "I know he's yours," Aeri looked over her shoulder at your bulge and bit her bottom lip. "But that cock is staring me right in the eyes."

Wony had to have been stunned by Aeri's sudden, bold move as well, as she didn't say a single word or move a single muscle.

"Don't talk about his cock or I'll get horny too," you heard Rina say to your left. "Every time I think about it I want it inside me."

"My god! You two are a couple of whores!" Wony squealed, releasing your head from between her thighs. "A couple of whores with... nice asses and nice tits."

"Both," you added.

"You shut up!" Wony slapped your forehead, startling you.

"Oh, you like us, don't you?" Aeri asked, and then she turned around and climbed onto her knees at the edge of the couch so you and Wony could admire her pair of round, nice, firm, perfectly sized tits.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw that Rina couldn't help but follow Aeri's lead and was taking off her dress, under which, just like Aeri, she was only wearing panties and no bra.

"I didn't say that!" Wony said, and as you looked up at her you noticed that her eyes couldn't stop staring at Rina and Aeri's bodies. "I just said that..."

She trailed off, and as you looked back up at the front you realized why. Aeri had crawled up on top of you, her hands on either side of your head and her knees on either side of your hips. That pair of breasts were right above your face, tempting inches away that you didn't dare to shorten just yet.

"What did you say, Vicky?" Aeri asked with a giggle, looking at Wony from very close, ignoring you despite having you underneath her. "Because I remember you said I was a slut."

Rina, half naked like Aeri, straddled Wony's calf with two hands above her knee, just watching her like a cat did with its prey.

"Y-yeah, because that's what you are..." Wony glanced at Rina out of the corner of her eye. "Both of you."

"I told you not to call me that or I would take it seriously," Aeri replied, and put a hand on your chest to bring her face so close to Wony's that you thought she was going to kiss her. "Come on, say it again."

"Slut!" Wony repeated instantly, without a hint of hesitation. But the tone she used sounded like a challenge to you.

"Fuck, I am," Aeri moaned, then giggled as she moved her hand down from your chest to your bulge to squeeze it without Wony noticing. "Again."

"Me, me, tell me," Rina said, now settling herself closer to Wony's knee.

Aeri was massaging your cock over your pants, making it throb with each deep squeeze. You didn't want to stay still, so you discreetly moved your hand up to her crotch to rub her pussy over her panties.

"You are the biggest slut!" Wony said now looking at Rina. "You fuck my boyfriend all the time!"

"Oh yeah and I fucking love it when he fills my pussy," Rina moaned, now adjusting herself on Wony's thigh. From the slight movements it seemed like she was rubbing herself against her. "You don't?"

You heard another moan, but this one was from Wony. Looking up you noticed that Rina had pulled her dress down, and now had her pair of cute little tits free.

"Y-yes I do..." Wony replied with a gasp. "Can we suck his cock already or...?"

"Nuh-uh, you're going to kiss me first," Aeri said, and then kissed Wony right above you.

Rina took the opportunity to wrap her arms around Wony's waist and dive into her neck with kisses, as she and Aeri kissed like they had been lusting after each other all night. And you, seeing that things had already gotten out of hand without you even having to intervene, finally leaned up on your elbows to take one of Aeri's tits into your mouth.

You had no angle of vision to know what was happening behind you, you could only hear muffled moans, fabric being manipulated and kiss after kiss. Aeri was trying to unbutton your pants with one hand, but noticing her inability you had to help her. Then when you took off your shoes, pants and boxers, she grabbed your cock with a reverse grip and rubbed it slowly.

Aeri's tits remained your focus for another long seconds; you moved between each mound, sucking and licking her cute nipples with your hands on her waist. A moment later Aeri moved away from Wony and lowered her body to straddle your abdomen. You were then able to turn to see what was happening behind you.

Wony was no longer wearing her dress, and like Aeri and Rina, she was only in her panties as she kissed and groped Rina, who was sitting on her lap with her hands around her neck. You didn't know how to feel about it, but your current state of mind only made the scene turn you on twice as much.

"Hey, I exist too," you called out to both of them, as Aeri climbed off your abdomen and went to settle on her knees between your outstretched legs. Now she was able to get a good grip on your cock and stroke it slightly faster.

"Hmm, sorry daddy," Rina said, breaking away from Wony's lips. "Her lips are too fluffy and delicious."

She made to lean in to kiss you, but Wony quickly put her hand between both of them.

"No!" she stopped Rina. "I'm not letting you kiss him, whore! That privilege is mine!"

"But I just kissed you!" Rina protested. "What's the difference?!"

"I just said no!"

"Shut the fuck up both of you and come suck my cock," you said.

"Yes daddy!" they both said at the same time, completely forgetting about their argument.

There wasn't room for the four of you on the couch together, at least not for what you wanted to do, so you told them to go to the bedroom. There were your two cats in there, which you dragged out to make room on the bed. You got in first, piling the pillows up in the middle so you could lay down with your head propped up. It was then that they joined you, Rina on your left, Wony on your right, and Aeri on her hands and knees between your legs.

Rina and Wony had their backs to you, lying on their sides with their faces on either side of your cock and their elbows resting on top of your abdomen. The first to take you into her mouth was Aeri, with slow sucks halfway down your shaft while Wony and Rina kissed the sides of your base, licking the sides every time Aeri moved up. With Wony it wasn't necessary since she still had her hair in the bun, but with Rina you brushed her hair back just to delight in that double view. Cute backs drove you crazy, and if that wasn't enough, their asses were just as cute.

"Fuck, it almost fit in my mouth," Aeri gasped, stroking your tip with her fingers in a ring, while you caressed Wony and Rina's lower backs. "Just the way I love it."

"The first time I was unable to take it all," Rina said, kissing and licking along with Wony every corner of your cock.

"Ha! I've always been able to take it down my throat without any effort," Wony said.

"Oh yeah? Then do it," Aeri goaded, and slapped Wony's face a couple of times with your cock. "Be a good girl."

Wony didn't hesitate and grabbed your cock and took it straight into her mouth. Unlike when she gave you head in the car, she was now true to her skills and gave you a sloppy blowjob, with plenty of saliva built up from the start. Rina and Aeri meanwhile sucked your balls, and you groped Wony and Rina's asses.

After a few seconds she put her hands on your thighs and lowered her mouth to the base of your cock in one smooth motion, taking every inch without a hint of gag reflex to let your tip rest against her throat for a while.

"Damn, you got a fucking talent for it huh?" Aeri said, as Wony slowly twisted her head from side to side with your cock stuck in her throat, something she did just to show off.

Wony pulled you out of her throat a couple seconds later, her breathing completely steady but her mouth full of saliva and connected to your cock by slimy threads. She stroked you quickly.

"Come on, I fucking challenge you two bitches," she said, looking at Aeri and Rina. "I bet you can't even hold it in for five seconds."

"Bet," Rina and Aeri said.

Again, they were pretending you didn't exist and were just an NPC with a usable cock. You didn't mind tho, and it wasn't like you would care when you were drunk.

Rina was the first to make her attempt. You knew she wasn't bad at it; she gave excellent blowjobs, but deepthroats were perhaps her only weak point in general. She grabbed you by the base, caught your cock between her lips and slowly lowered them down until you were in her throat. One... two...—first gag—, three—she coughed against your cock and pulled back with labored breathing.

"Ha! One out," Wony said with a smug little smile on her face. "Come on Uchinaga, you fucking gorgeous packed up whore."

"Fuck, I'm going to lose this shit..." she muttered, already accepting her fate.

Aeri took her shot, first flipping all her pink hair to the side and then grabbing your cock and plunging her mouth in. The outlook didn't look too hopeful for her, since halfway through she seemed to have a hard time taking you, but to your surprise she did reach the bottom. One... two... three...—first gags, Wony worried—, four... and just as the five seconds were about to pass, a huge gag reflex made her take you out of her mouth.

"I won!" Wony said, the cocky grin back on her face. "Ha! You can't beat me on that, sluts."

"Without preparation it's cheating, bitch," Aeri said, wiping the saliva off her chin with the back of her hand and side looking at her.

"I don't care, it's time for me to choose my prize!"

"Do you win a contest that you organised yourself and also choose your own prize?" Rina asked.

"You're right!" Wony replied, and got on her knees to cup Rina's face in her hands, give her a little kiss and then look at you. "My prize will be daddy eating my pussy and fucking me first!"

"But!-" Rina tried to protest, but Wony held up a finger.

"Nuh-uh, you didn't win the contest, refrain from protesting Miss Yoo."

Quite a comedian when she was drunk, and above all, a whore.

Wony then straddled you right on your chest, slowly slipped her hand into your hair to tangle her fingers there, and then raised her hips to pull you towards her pussy. You immediately ate her out like she was a three-star Michelin dish, making her moan and grind her hips against your face.

Aeri and Rina, without much other option, both focused on your cock, in a combined action in which they both sucked you off in the most messy and frantic way they could. You moaned against Wony's pussy, and she loved it. She let you know that by the little tugs she gave to your hair every few seconds.

You moved your hands up to hold Wony's small waist, and from there you moved up her back until you reached her tits, whose nipples you pinched in between light squeezes. Then you moved one of your hands up to her mouth, and brought two fingers inside for her to suck on while you attacked her clit with the tip of your tongue.

Aeri and Rina were going crazy on your cock. You couldn't see what they were doing, but their tongues felt amazing. It led you to moan more and more, and to breathe heavily against Wony's pussy, which led her to cum in your mouth.

"Mmmgh fuck!" she moaned between cute little spasms on top of you. "Can I ride you daddy?"

"Oh, now you ask?" you asked. "I thought you had forgotten that I have an opinion."

"I know you're always gonna say yes to everything, but consent is important daddy," she said, and took your hand to give the back of it a peck.

With this done, Wony got off your chest and turned to look at the girls.

"Get off his cock bitches, time for his girlfriend to ride him."

Rina and Aeri were diligent and moved away from your cock to give Wony room, who mounted you with her knees on either side of your waist and raised her hips to grab your shaft, aligning it with her pussy and slowly impaling herself on it with a long moan of satisfaction that made her face look like a work of art.

Wony left her hands on your chest, looked into your eyes and began to move her hips up and down, taking your cock in and out of her suffocating pussy. Rina positioned herself on the right, on her knees and facing Wony, to grab her chin and kiss her. Aeri approached you from the left, and got on her hands and knees to kiss you without Wony noticing.

"Would you mind lending me your face as a seat, love?" she asked after that brief taste of your lips.

"Whenever you want," you replied between gasps, as Wony was now bouncing faster on your cock.

Aeri stood up and positioned herself above your face, with her knees snug against the sides of your chest and her calves on top of your arms. She then lowered her hips, and pressed her pussy against your mouth for you to eat. You immediately grabbed her ass, delighted with how soft and round her buttocks were between your fingers. She moaned, but just seconds later those moans were muffled against Wony's lips.

You reached out with your right arm and without looking you reached for Rina's cute ass, which you groped while you ate Aeri's pussy and ass equally. Now you could hear Wony's moans loud and clear, and looking up you realized it was because Aeri and Rina were kissing and licking her tits while she bounced on your cock with her hands on your abdomen.

"Mmmgh fuck fuck fuck!" she moaned, fingers digging into your belly. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna... Fuck!!"

Wony sank down with a sudden thud to your pelvis and ground herself against you, spasms making her pussy walls throb around you. You continued to fully engage Aeri's pussy and ass, licking between her wet pink folds and butthole until she raised her hips.

"Alright get off bitch, my fucking turn," Aeri said to Wony. "You give Rina a good time."

"Yeah, come eat my pussy baby," Rina moaned, and grabbed Wony by the back of the neck to pull her off your cock, make her lay down together and make out beside you.

That left you 'alone' with Aeri, who only had to crawl down your body until her ass was positioned above your cock, which you grabbed and pressed against her pussy so that she only had to move her hips down and make your shaft slowly disappear between those glorious ass cheeks.

"Oh fuck," Aeri growled, her ass resting against your pelvis. She looked at you over her shoulder. "You like the view, baby?" She asked with a giggle.

"I very much fucking love it," you said, giving her right ass cheek a firm squeeze and then a spank to get her bobbing up and down.

Beside you, Wony and Rina were in the middle of a hot make out session, with the taller girl on top of the most bottom girl you knew. Rina was spread legged, and Wony had two fingers pumping in and out of her pussy. Again, you didn't know how to feel about it, you just knew it was hot as fuck.

Aeri was moving like a fucking demon on your cock, giving you quite the show of how to properly ride a cock in that position. It was hypnotic to watch her ass go back and forth, and her long pink hair run down her pale back. She kept going for about a minute more of you spanking her ass several times, until she planted her feet on the mattress and started squatting up and down on you, slamming hard against your pelvis.

To your right, Wony went from fingering Rina to being between her legs eating her pussy. Rina had one hand on the back of Wony's head, and the other was playing with one of her own tits, squeezing it and pinching her nipple between moans. Wony was apparently amazing at eating pussy too, as Rina's moans were almost as loud as Aeri's.

On the other hand, Aeri's ass, as massive and firm as it was, was almost taking your breath away with every crash against your body, but she didn't notice either because she was too horny or because the alcohol in her system didn't let her notice. The solution was pretty simple: grab her by the waist and push her off your cock, have her lie face down on the left side of the bed and get back inside her in that prone bone position.

"Mmm yeah daddy be fucking hard on me," she moaned, one side of her face buried against one of your pillows. You brushed her hair back and placed it in front of her right shoulder, so you could put your hand on the back of her neck and fuck her as hard as she wanted.

Fucking Aeri Uchinaga in that specific position felt like a luxury. Her ass looked amazing, jiggling with every thrust and quick spank you gave her. At one point you leaned forward and placed your fists on either side of her shoulders, pushing your cock hard up and down, then you stood up straight again, grabbing onto her waist to make her lift her ass slightly and pulling it towards you every time you pushed forward. What this created was absolute madness for Aeri, who moaned, screamed and groaned into the pillow until with a thud to the mattress, she came hugging the pillow.

You slowly fucked her through her orgasm, caressing her back and shoulders. To your left Rina was going down the same road. Wony was still eating her pussy, but now she was also fingering her at the same time. Rina's face reddened, twisted, and finally froze as he came in Wony's mouth as well.

"Daddy," Wony called to you, pumping two fingers in and out of Rina as she writhed in pleasure. "Come and fuck her, I want to see her being overstimulated."

Without hesitation you pulled out of Aeri's pussy and went to take Wony's place between Rina's legs. She looked into your eyes and then at your cock, well knowing what you were going to do. You didn't make her wait: you quickly grabbed your cock, and still soaked in Aeri's fluids, you took it inside Rina.

"Mmmgh wait wait wait!" Rina squealed with a hand on your abdomen, twisting her hips as your cock slid easily into her still sensitive pussy.

"Shut up and take daddy's cock," Wony ordered, lying down on your right with her face next to Rina's.

Rina brought her hand to her mouth to muffle her whimpers the moment you started pumping back and forth. At least you had the mercy to not go hard at first just to not make it too unbearable for her, but that was only a brief five seconds after which you went faster and faster.

“At least kiss me daddy… c-can you?” Rina asked looking into your eyes, her tits bouncing from your thrusts.

“No!” Wony immediately replied in your place.

“Pleaseee!!” Rina whimpered again, squeezing her tits as her eyes became teary. It was quite a deal for her not to be able to kiss you during sex – she was just too used to you spoiling her.

“I said no!” Wony repeated, and cupped the side of Rina’s face so she could see her. “Kiss me instead you little slut.”

Rina did so, muffling cute moans against Wony's lips while you had your hands on her thighs to keep her legs spread wide. Aeri had already recovered from her recent orgasm, and moved to get between Wony's legs and eat her pussy while she maked out with Rina.

Wony pulled away from Rina's lips and looked at Aeri with her mouth half open between gasps.

"It's about time you ate me out, Uchinaga," Wony moaned, entwining her fingers between strands of pink hair.

"Were you craving for it?" Aeri asked, licking between her folds and then her clit.

"Since I saw you making those faces while riding my boyfriend's cock," Wony replied.

You meanwhile continued to fuck Rina as hard as you could, squeezing her tits, her neck and making her suck on your fingers. She came within seconds, but you ignored her body's signals and kept going until you brought her legs together, pressed them against her body and held them with yours to now fuck her in a matting press.

"Are you gonna fill my pussy daddy?" Rina asked between moans, looking into your eyes as you hammered her pussy up and down. "Please do it... I need it! I need it so bad daddy!"

"Are you gonna cum again for me if I do baby?" you asked between gasps.

"Yes! I'll do whatever you ask daddy, anything!" she replied.

Your climax was just around the corner, it only took a few downward thrusts when you felt the tingle run down your cock.

"Then fucking cum, slut," you growled, and then exploded inside her.

Rina moaned in ecstasy as she felt your cock throbbing and shooting out jet after jet of cum inside her, and instantly she came too, her body shaking and her moans sweetening your ears. You continued to pump slowly, making sure to leave every drop inside her without any waste. She loved every second of it; it was what drove her craziest by far. She had to earn her nickname from somewhere.

To your right Aeri had stopped eating Wony out and was now on top of her, kissing her and rubbing her pussy in circles. You pulled out of Rina's pussy and looked at them.

"Hey, clean up, what are you waiting for?" you said, pointing at Rina's cum dripping pussy.

Aeri looked up, looked between Rina's legs and went there, pushing you out of the way. Wony followed her, and the two of them took turns cleaning your cum from Rina's pussy. You laid down on the pillows, leaning against the headboard between heavy breaths to rest.

Aeri and Wony looked up at you, and with cum pooling in their mouths, they shared a sloppy kiss that spilled your load over their jaws and onto the sheets below. They didn't stop until they shared every drop of thick liquid and were both clean and herself.

"Now that I think about it... there's one thing I do beat you at," Aeri said to Wony with a giggle, both of them sitting on their knees in front of Rina's spread legs.

Wony frowned and looked at her as if she was insane.

"Huh, at what?" Wony asked.

Aeri then looked at you, and crawled past Rina until she was between your legs, lowering her face and licking your cock from balls to tip. She then moved up to align her face with yours.

"Wanna fuck my ass daddy?" she asked, caressing the back of your cock until it was hard again.

"What?" Wony quickly crawled over to you, tripping over Rina on her way to your side. "N-No! You can do me too!"

Aeri giggled as she saw that Wony had fallen for her trap.

"Really, Vicky?" Aeri turned to look at her. "You don't look like you've ever tried to get fucked in the ass, have you?"

"W-well..." Wony avoided her gaze.

"No, right?"

Wony snorted.

"No! But I can try and I know my boyfriend is going to love it!"

Aeri then looked at you and raised an eyebrow.

"You hear that baby?" she asked. "The little princess wants your cock in her ass."

"Get the lube then," you said, nodding towards the nightstand to the right of the bed.

Aeri moved to get it, but Wony just stared at you with a scowl.

"Huh? What do you have that for?! Who are you fucking in the ass other than me?"

You didn't know how to tell her all the girls who had passed by that bed and been fucked in the ass.

"Yujinie loves it," you replied.

"Ugh!" she slammed her fist into her thigh. "That bitch!"

Aeri came back to you, with a bottle of lube that was almost gone but you knew would be enough for the night.

"Get on all fours, pretty girl," Aeri told Wony, and she complied.

"What are you going to do?" Wony asked, getting on her hands and knees on the right side of the bed, her ass facing you.

"I'm gonna get you ready."

Aeri sat on her knees beside her, opened the bottle of lube, and looked at you.

"You don't mind getting the sheets dirty?" she asked.

"I don't fucking care at this point," you shrugged and shook your head.

"Great."

Aeri then focused on her self-assigned task. She poured lube on each of Wony's ass cheeks, spreading it around until each one was a shiny pearl. She then moved on to her butthole, which she treated with the utmost care even as she stuck two of her fingers in there just to stretch it out a bit.

"Fuck..." Wony gasped, looking over her shoulder. "I-is that it?"

"It's perfect," Aeri said, and gave Wony a smack that made some lube splatter. She then looked at you. "All yours."

You moved on, going to kneel behind Wony. She looked at you with adorable little eyes, wanting you to be as careful with her as possible. Of course you would be. She was your sweet girl after all. Your princess to take care of and pamper. You would never be able to hurt her, not even accidentally.

"I just need you to relax, sweetie, okay?" you asked, one hand running up and down her back. She just nodded. "And let that hair down, I want something to pull on."

Wony complied and brought a hand to her bun to pull it free, freeing her wavy, shiny brown hair to fall down her back and in front of her shoulders. She also spread her knees further out to the sides, leaving her ass at a perfect level for you. Your cock was already hard again, and you brought it to her butthole to press slowly forward, as carefully as you could.

"Hey, don't tense up girl," Aeri said from your left. She had been applying the same treatment to herself as she did to Wony. "It'll be harder for you."

"I'm trying!" Wony protested, gripping the sheets with her fingers as you barely got your tip inside. She took a deep breath, and you saw her relax her hands. "Come on baby, you keep going."

You pushed forward a little more insistently, slowly taking every inch of throbbing flesh inside that tight butthole. There were a few hiccups, as was usual when someone did that for the first time, but a minute later you were fully inside her, suffocated by those tight walls.

"So? How does it feel?" Aeri asked, getting on her hands and knees beside Wony. Her wonderfully lubed up ass was a bit of a distraction, but you had to focus on your girl.

"It feels..." Wony closed her eyes, gasped, and buried her forehead into the mattress with her arms outstretched. "Baby, move."

You placed your hands on her buttocks and pulled back, slowly bringing your cock out and then pushing forward again. Wony let out a sensual moan as you repeated the same thing several times.

"Oh yeah it feels fucking wonderful," she moaned, and turned her face to face Aeri with a frown of pleasure.

"Wait until it gets intense then," Aeri replied with a giggle. "Cumming like that feels quite different."

As the seconds passed Wony became more comfortable, allowing you to go harder and faster. Wony loved every moment of it, and you were immensely happy about it, as her ass felt amazing. Aeri should be proud, for she had created a potential monster, both in you and Wony.

Wony's ass was your little toy for a while. You were fucking her hard, mercilessly, making your pelvis and ass make a sexual cacophony of clashing and wet sounds. Her hair and waist were your grip points at all times, one you pulled back in a fistful, and the other you held tight, not wanting her to slip away.

You would have kept going until she came, but to your left a delicious Japanese cake waited, glistening in the light of your room. Aeri watched as you fucked Wony in full attention, and bit her lower lip waiting for her turn. The moment you turned to look at her she just happened to meet your eyes, and you simply weren't going to say no to that look.

"I'll be back with you in a second, my sweet girl," you told Wony, and carefully pulled your cock out of her.

"Nooo!" Wony whimpered. "Fuck only me!"

"Don't be selfish, bitch," Aeri said as you positioned yourself behind her. "If it weren't for me you wouldn't have found out that you love that."

You repeated the process with Aeri, one hand on one of her buttocks as you brought your cock into her ass. The experience she had was evident, as your shaft slid inside with relative ease without her even wincing in pain. All that was visible on her face was pleasure; pure ecstasy released in a moan when you reached the bottom.

"Fuck," Aeri gasped, biting her bottom lip. "You really want to gatekeep that cock Vicky? How inconsiderate of you."

"Yeah, because it's mine," Wony replied.

"And why is it inside my ass?" Aeri teased with a giggle.

Any desire to tease Wony disappeared the moment you started moving your hips and fucking her hard, making her ass cheeks jiggle with each thrust. Your hands went to her waist, then up her back until you reached the nape of her neck and pushed her face into the mattress. Aeri kept her ass raised, perfect for you to plant your feet on the mattress and drill her butthole up and down.

After another while you went back to Wony, fucking her the same way you did Aeri: hand on the back of her head, face against the mattress and ass raised for your hammering. She came a little less than a minute later, with an aggressiveness that denoted that she was a first timer being fucked in the ass.

"Oh fuck!!" Wony screamed into the sheets, wrinkling them and twisting her hips. "Fuck it does feel quite different! God!"

As Wony's orgasm wore off you now moved to Aeri, but you had a different idea of ​​how to go about it with her. From being on her hands and knees you now rolled her onto her side with her legs drawn up. As you moved back into her ass you moaned, since it felt twice as tight and warm in that position.

"Mmm, are you gonna fill my tight little ass daddy?" Aeri said, looking into your eyes with her head tilted as you picked up the pace. She had her pink hair all messy, with strands sticking to her face from sweat.

"Every fucking corner of it," you replied between gasps, one hand squeezing one of her tits and the other gripping her waist.

"Then fucking do it, mmmgh!" she moaned, holding onto your left forearm and with her hand on top of yours on her breast.

You moved your hand from her breast to her neck, and pressed your fingers there to get really intense with your thrusts. The bed shook as if an earthquake was happening, so strong that one of the pillows on the edge fell to the floor. Aeri tried to scream in pleasure, but the obstruction on her neck by your fingers prevented her from doing so. Her face turned red, and her hands went to hold on to your wrist until she came. You fucked her despite her spasms, but not for too long, because it only took a couple of seconds for you to explode inside that wonderful round ass.

"Oh my god!" you groaned, unloading every thick drop of cum inside the ass of the hottest Japanese girl in the entire industry.

"Oh yeah put it all in!" Aeri squealed as you loosened your grip on her neck. "Fill my ass daddy, fill it like a fucking cum dump!"

Aeri looked too fucking gorgeous with her face twisted in pleasure, mouth parted and hair messy, but if you leaned forward to kiss her you were probably going to sleep on the couch with Helios and Rory. You just grabbed her face and made her look into your eyes, then stuck your fingers in her mouth and had her suck on them as both of your orgasms passed.

Seconds later you pulled very slowly out of Aeri's ass, letting your cum spill out in several rivers that fell straight onto the sheet. But making her star appearance after a while of lethargy, Yoo Jimin came back to life and stuck her head between your knees and Aeri's ass to collect your cum from her butthole without even a fuss.

"And there's my fucking cum slut," you panted, sitting on your own ankles as Rina ate Aeri's ass and ate your cum.

"Mmm yeah," Rina nodded, wiping her chin once finished, and knelt up beside you to lick the entire side of your face. "And your cum slut wants to ride you."

"I just filled your groupmate's ass, honey," you said with your breath still uneasy, turning to look at her. "Can I have a little break?"

"You can have the break by eating my pussy," she replied, making eyes at you. "I don't deserve it?"

"Are you seriously going to manipulate me?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Does it work?"

"Yes," you said, and grabbed her waist to lay her down with her head between two pillows. "You're unbearable."

"You're obsessed with me and it burns you to say it," Rina told you, as you spread her legs and laid face down with your face in front of her pussy.

"It's funny you say that, Miss 'fuck me in the elevator because I'm so needy, daddy'."

"Huh?!" you heard Wony say, but in order not to be hung up by the balls, you decided to ignore her and plant your mouth on Rina's pussy.

Rina moaned and moved her hand directly to your hair to tangle her fingers there. With Rina's thighs on your shoulders you moved your hands up as well, to grab her tits and massage them as you tasted that delicious pussy that you were certainly—and very dangerously—obsessed with. You didn't take long there, just long enough until your cock was ready again.

"Come on and ride me then, slut," you murmured, and gave her pussy a peck before laying down beside her.

She quickly stood up and straddled you, grabbing your still wet cock and bringing it into her spit-soaked pussy to fully impale herself on every inch of your shaft. Without a doubt, that was one of your favorite sights in the world: Rina on top of you, with your cock disappeared behind her perfect belly like magic. And those tits, fuck, those fucking tits. You needed them in your mouth.

You grabbed her waist and pulled her towards you, wrapping your arms around her body and smothering yourself between her tits. Rina moaned and began to move up and down on your cock, with a certain speed and neediness already from the start. You ate each breast between gasps, covering them with kisses, licking them, sucking them and taking as much of them as you could inside your mouth. It drove her crazy, and she translated it into killer hip movements that drove you crazy.

A new weight to your right on the bed made you open your eyes. It was Wony, lying next to you and with her legs open for Aeri, who was eating her pussy with a good part of her hair covering her face. Something impractical, but considering how horny she was, it didn't surprise you.

Wony grabbed your face and made you move away from Rina's tits to kiss her. You didn't refuse, and you tasted her lips in a kiss full of passion and saliva. Something told you that Rina was a little jealous, because she was whimpering more than usual and quickly jumping on your cock to somehow get your attention.

"I want you to kiss me! Ugh!" Rina whined when you didn't turn to look at her. "Please!" she dug her nails into your chest, just to poke you a little.

"I already told you no, whore!" Wony said, pulling away from the kiss to slap one of Rina's tits.

Rina moaned, and went slower but harder and deeper on your cock. Wony repeated the slap, now on her other breast to make it bounce. Several slaps later, Rina's pale tits were red as apples. That left her too stunned to move properly, so you took the reins and planted your feet on the bed to grab her waist and fuck her hard, thrusting down and up.

Unable to find relief from you for her need for kisses, Rina collapsed forward and crashed her lips against Wony's, covering your face with her long red hair as you continued to hammer her pussy. She muffled moans and screams against Wony's lips, who also moaned against hers. Within seconds Rina came, shaking on top of you as if she was being electrocuted. Your only response was to grab her ass and spank both of her ass cheeks at the same time to make her squeal out between her moans.

"Alright bitch, enough," Wony said, pushing Rina off of you. "My boyfriend is going to give me his last load, as it should be."

You knelt up and went between Wony's legs. Aeri had already moved away for you, and laid down on Wony's left. Rina laid down on the opposite side, and as you took your cock inside your girlfriend, Aeri and Rina each took one of Wony's tits into their mouths to kiss and suck on.

As you picked up the pace and gave Wony hard thrusts, the other two demons got wilder and wilder. The main focus remained on Wony's tits, but then Aeri moved to her long neck to kiss it, and Rina settled in to specifically lick and kiss her abdomen. All together, it elicited cute whimpers and angelic moans from Wony, which filled the room and reverberated off the walls.

A minute later Aeri added another coat of paint to the work and brought her hand to Wony's pussy, to make circles on her clit while you fucked her with your hands behind her knees. Rina then kissed her too, and the two engaged in a make out session until Wony came.

But unwilling to give any quarter, you pushed Rina off Wony's right and lay down in her place to put your girlfriend on top of you. She made herself comfortable as best she could, but you didn't wait to take your cock back inside her and fuck her like you did to Rina a few minutes ago. Her face, as gorgeous and sexy as ever, with her hair all disheveled in front, was paralyzed with pleasure at the overstimulation.

Aeri and Rina knelt behind her. Aeri had dropped the now empty bottle of lube on the floor, and the next thing you knew, she was fingering Wony's ass with three fingers while Rina rubbed her tits against one of her oily buttocks. Wony looked at you with tears in her eyes, and with small squeals that wouldn't come out of her throat. It wasn't long before she slapped your chest a few times, and knowing what that sign meant, you pulled out of her so she squirted all over your cock, between grunts and strong spasms.

"OH MY FUCKING GGGGOD!!" Wony screamed, burying her face in your neck and clinging to your shoulders, trying to catch her breath as she continued to drench your cock with jets of squirt.

"Fuck, I had no idea she could do that," Aeri panted, her wrist visibly tired once she pulled her fingers out of Wony.

"She didn't know either," you panted, hugging Wony with both arms. "It was a nice surprise."

"G-give me... your load... on my face," Wony murmured in your ear. "Only me."

You carefully pulled Wony off of you and laid her on her back where you were. Once again, Aeri and Rina laid down on either side of each other, and you straddled Wony's chest to masturbate right over her perfect sweaty face and full, parted lips. A few quick strokes later, you exploded with moans, filling every corner of your girlfriend's face with cum, especially her sexy lips that were still purposely parted. Wony was a good girl and a perfect canvas, her eyes closed and completely still until you finished painting her.

"Daddy... can we help her?" Rina asked, looking at Wony's face biting her lip.

"Go ahead, I'm dead," you nodded with a gasp.

Rina and Aeri got to work. They licked every drop of your cum off Wony's face and slowly accumulated it inside their mouths. Relatively finished, Wony opened her eyes and then her mouth, also sticking her tongue out. Then Aeri and Rina rose above her, and let your cum fall from their mouths into Wony's mouth, who swallowed it all despite the drops falling on her chin.

"Oh… wow..." you said, completely flabbergasted, and fell back onto the mattress.

Somehow, your body had completely ignored the fact that you were drunk while fucking. But your senses had returned to 'normal', and with it, the alcohol in your system that reminded you that you haven’t caught a sleep in almost 22 hours. You fought as hard as you could, but you were so fucking exhausted that you simply got knocked out.

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Spren Notes: I hope you guys appreciate this, because it's been a while since I put so much love into a fic lol. As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

[jupiterpilgrim]

Before the World Knew

PART 3

word count: 16k

Yoo Jimin (Karina) x male reader

part 1 part 2

The tapping is the first thing you notice when you step onto the second-to-last floor of the SM building. Jimin's foot bouncing against the tile floor, nervous energy bleeding out through that one repetitive motion. She's hunched over her phone, thumb scrolling, and even from behind you can see the tension in her shoulders.

You reach over and pluck the phone from her hands.

"Hey—"

"Not good for you," you say, holding it out of reach. "Watching that shit."

She spins around in her chair and her whole expression shifts when she sees you. Relief floods her face and she's up in a second, hands grabbing your shirt as she pulls you down into a hug. It's quick but desperate, like she needed to confirm you're actually here.

When she pulls back, her eyes drop to the cup in your other hand.

"That much caffeine isn't good for you either." She takes it right out of your grip before you can protest.

"It's my first cup of the day."

Jimin gives you this look. The kind that says she knows you're full of shit.

"Okay, second."

She doesn't break eye contact.

You sigh. "Third. But in my defense, I couldn't sleep last night. This whole... everything is driving me fucking crazy."

"Yeah." Her fingers trace the rim of your coffee cup. "Me neither. Especially after they called us in."

You hand her phone back and she stares at it for a moment before shoving it in her pocket. The SM building today feels much more oppressive than it normally does. Too bright, too sterile. White walls and uncomfortable chairs and that generic corporate smell of air conditioning.

Jimin moves to the wall and leans against it, arms crossed over her chest. "How did this even happen?" Her head tilts back, eyes on the ceiling. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Stop."

"I mean it. If I hadn't—"

"Jimin." You step closer. "It's not your fault. You kissed me, and I dared you to do it again. So technically it's both our faults, but really? It's neither. It's whoever the fuck leaked that footage."

She shakes her head, and there's this lost quality to how she's looking at nothing in particular. "It feels like everything's falling apart. Two days ago, everything was perfect. I was the happiest I've ever been. And now..."

The sentence just dies there.

You pull her into a hug and she melts into it, face buried against your chest. "The bright side," you say into her hair, "is that if we make it through this shitstorm, we won't have to hide anymore. No more sneaking around. No more pretending we're just friends. It's a necessary hell."

"Necessary hell." She laughs weakly. "That's one way to put it."

"I'm serious though. After this, it's done. The worst will be over."

She pulls back just enough to look at you. "Thank you. For being here. For not..." She doesn't finish but you know what she means. For not running.

"I'm with you until the end. I know what's at stake for you." You're trying so hard to be her anchor right now, to be the steady thing she can hold onto. But the truth is you're just as terrified as she is. Maybe more. Because she's Karina, she's survived scandals and hate and the brutal machinery of the industry. You're just some guy who accidentally became the center of a media shitstorm.

But then you remember the hotel room two days ago. How she held you when you were the one falling apart, how she fought through your insecurities and showed you exactly what you mean to her. This is your turn. Time to be strong for her.

The door opens and a woman in a sleek black blazer appears. Mid-thirties, clipboard in hand, expression professionally neutral.

"They're ready for you now."

You and Jimin exchange a look. Her hand finds yours and you hold tight as you walk down the hallway. The secretary's heels click in front of you. When you reach the door, you both stop. Your hands separate slowly, reluctantly.

Jimin turns to face you fully. "No matter what happens in there," she says, "I'm not staying away from you. Whatever they say, whatever they want. I won't."

You smile despite everything. "I know."

You push the door open together.

The office, as you already expected, is big and imposing. Floor to ceiling windows overlooking Seoul, expensive furniture, and behind a massive desk sits Lee Soo-man's successor as the real power at SM Entertainment: Vice Chairman Kim Youngmin. Late forties, silver starting to thread through his hair, wearing a suit that probably cost as much as a small car. He built half of SM's current roster and has a reputation for being brilliant and absolutely ruthless.

"Please, sit." He gestures to the two chairs across from his desk.

You and Jimin sit. The chairs are less comfortable than they look.

"We know," you both say, almost in unison.

Kim Youngmin leans back in his chair, fingers steepled. "Let me lay out where we are. The footage has been circulating for approximately eighteen hours. Major news outlets picked it up within four. Trending on every platform. Twitter, Instagram, Naver, Weibo. The comments sections are..." He pauses. "Volatile."

"This conversation shouldn't even be happening," Jimin says. "We're not criminals."

"No, you're not." Kim Youngmin's expression doesn't change. "But you are under contract, Jimin. Section 7, subsection C. Public image and conduct clauses. I'm sure you remember signing it. The situation is delicate," he continues, pulling out a tablet and sliding it across the desk. You can see metrics, graphs, social media analytics. "Your individual brand value dropped 23% overnight. aespa's group endorsements are being reviewed by three major sponsors. We've had calls from luxury brands reconsidering their ambassador contracts. Your upcoming comeback promotion schedule is in jeopardy."

Jimin opens her mouth but you touch her arm lightly. A signal. Stay calm. She glances at you and takes a breath.

Kim Youngmin isn't done. "I need you both to understand the scope of what we're dealing with. This isn't just about you two having a... personal relationship. This impacts your group members, their careers, the company's stock price, investor confidence. There are hundreds of people whose livelihoods depend on aespa's success. The timing couldn't be worse with your world tour announcement scheduled for next month."

He's being professional about it, clinical even, but every word makes it sound like your relationship is a catastrophic mistake. Like you're the problem that needs to be solved.

"What about whoever leaked the footage?" Jimin's hands are balled into fists on her lap. "That's who you should be going after. We're sitting here like we did something wrong when someone invaded our privacy and weaponized it. That's the actual crime here."

"We are working on it," Kim Youngmin says smoothly. "Legal is coordinating with the police, IT is tracing the source. But that investigation will take weeks, possibly months. Right now, we have more pressing concerns. Damage control. Public perception. Your career."

"My career," Jimin repeats flatly.

"Yes." He pulls the tablet back, swipes a few times. "Which brings us to the response options. We need to make a decision within the next twelve hours. The longer we wait, the more the narrative spirals out of our control."

You feel your heart rate pick up. Here it comes.

"Option one." Kim Youngmin looks directly at Jimin. "We deny the relationship entirely. Claim the footage is a deepfake. AI-generated. There are precedents for this approach in the industry. We'd bring in digital forensics experts, release statements questioning the video's authenticity, suggest anti-fan sabotage."

"But it's not a deepfake.” you point out.

"Obviously. Which makes it difficult to prove. We'd be playing a long game, counting on public doubt and the media cycle moving on. It's risky. If the denial falls apart, the backlash would be worse than the original scandal. Trust issues, accusations of lying to fans."

Jimin is staring at the desk, processing.

"Option two," he continues. "We acknowledge the video is real but deny the romantic relationship. You and—" he glances at you, "—have known each other since childhood. The kiss was a moment of platonic affection between old friends. Perhaps celebratory, perhaps taken out of context. Young people today are more socially open to hugs and kisses than older generations used to be. We could frame it as conservative fans misunderstanding cultural norms."

"That's bullshit," Jimin says quietly.

"It's a narrative. Will everyone believe it? No. But it gives your hardcore fans something to defend you with. It provides plausible deniability. The challenge here is consistency. You'd both need to maintain that story indefinitely. Any slip, any future photo or rumor, and the whole thing collapses. And frankly, the way you two were kissing..." He trails off meaningfully. "It would be a difficult sell. But not impossible."

Jimin lets out a long sigh. The mood in the office feels like a full-on funeral - for her career and for your job.

"Option three." Kim Youngmin sets the tablet down. "You confirm the relationship. Full transparency. Release a statement that yes, you're dating. Emphasize the longevity of your connection, childhood friends who reunited, a natural progression. Make it romantic, not scandalous. Paint it as a fairy tale rather than a scandal."

"That's the one," Jimin says immediately.

"It's also the riskiest." His tone is grave. "You would be the first active female idol at your level to publicly confirm a relationship in nearly a decade. The precedent is not encouraging. Several idols faced massive backlash and career impacts despite their groups' success. Male idols have slightly more leeway, but for women? The parasocial relationship with fans is different. Harsher. You'd lose a significant portion of your fanbase. Possibly majority. The hate would be relentless."

"I don't care," Jimin says.

"You should care. We're talking potential group disbandment. Your members would suffer the consequences of your choice. Ning, Giselle, Winter… their careers would be affected. Comeback sales could tank. Concert attendance. Everything."

You feel sick. He's not wrong about the potential fallout. You've seen it happen to other idols.

"And there would be conditions," Kim Youngmin continues. "If you go public, we control the narrative completely. Approved photos, statements, interview responses. Your relationship becomes part of your public brand, which means it's subject to company management. And should things end..." He lets that hang. "The breakup would also be public. Messy. Another news cycle."

Jimin's looking at you now, and you can see the calculation happening behind her eyes. The weight of choosing between her truth and everyone else's careers.

"There's also the matter of your position," Kim Youngmin says, turning his attention to you. "You're an employee. Dating a talent you work with directly violates company policy. Regardless of which option we choose regarding the public narrative, internally there would need to be consequences."

"Consequences,” you repeat.

"Termination, most likely. Or at minimum, reassignment far from any projects involving aespa. We can't have the appearance of impropriety or conflict of interest."

Jimin's hand finds yours between the chairs where he can't see. Her grip is tight.

"So those are the options," Kim Youngmin says. "Think carefully. This decision will define both of your futures.”

"This is unacceptable,” Jimin protests. "He didn't do anything wrong. You want to talk about professionals? Ask anyone who's worked with him. Anyone on the team. He's never once crossed a line, never behaved inappropriately, never let our relationship affect his work. He's been nothing but competent since day one."

Kim Youngmin regards her calmly. "I'm not questioning his competency."

"Then why punish him?" She leans forward. "My boyfriend doesn't deserve to lose his job because someone leaked private footage of us."

"The optics—"

"Fuck the optics!"

There's a pause. You've never heard Jimin talk to a superior like this.

Kim Youngmin adjusts his tie. "The most we can do in the current situation is reassignment. Different department, different projects. You would no longer work with the aespa team in any capacity. No direct contact during work hours. It's either that or termination."

"But that's not even guaranteed," you say, finding your voice. "Right?"

"Correct. It still needs to be discussed with HR and upper management. But if I advocate for it, there's a strong chance they'll approve the transfer rather than dismissal."

You take a breath. The alternative is unemployment in the middle of a scandal with your face plastered everywhere. "Okay. I could accept that."

Jimin's head whips toward you. "What—"

"You both have until tomorrow morning to decide which route to take regarding the public response," Kim Youngmin says, standing. "Ten AM. We'll need your answer then so we can coordinate with PR and legal. Until that time, I strongly suggest you avoid drawing attention to yourselves. No social media, no public appearances. Stay low."

"We need to talk about this more," Jimin argues, almost getting up from her chair. "There has to be another way. You can't just—"

"Jimin." You touch her shoulder and she looks at you. You shake your head slightly.

"But—"

"There's nothing more to discuss right now. This is the scenario we're in."

She stares at you like you've betrayed her somehow, but she also knows you're right. Arguing won't change the options on the table. You both stand. Kim Youngmin walks you to the door, all professional courtesy now that the hard part is over.

"Tomorrow. Ten AM," he repeats.

The hallway feels longer on the way out.

—

You push open the door to your apartment and immediately spot her silhouette by the window. Jimin hasn't moved from that spot since you left forty minutes ago, just standing there watching the city lights blur into the night. You set the grocery bag on the kitchen table, pull off your mask and baseball cap, and walk over to her.

She turns when she hears your footsteps. "Did anyone recognize you?"

"No. I was careful."

"Good."

"It's weird though," you say, coming to stand beside her. "Walking around with this feeling that someone could spot me at any second. Like I'm being hunted. Your face is everywhere but mine's spreading too now. I get it now, how you feel all the time."

That gets a weak chuckle out of her. "Normally it doesn't feel like I'm some kind of outlaw on the run, but yeah. Welcome to my world."

You lean against the window frame. "My mom called while I was out."

Jimin's expression shifts immediately. "What did she say?"

"At first she was super happy. Like, 'I always knew you two would end up together' happy. Going on about how she could tell we had something special even when we were kids, how she was rooting for us this whole time." You smile at the memory of your mom's excited rambling. "Then she got worried. Asked if we were okay, if we needed anything, told me to take care of you. The usual mom stuff."

"I miss her," Jimin says softly. "She's amazing."

"She asked about you too. Wanted to make sure you were holding up."

"What'd you tell her?"

"That we're managing. That we've got each other."

Jimin nods but doesn't say anything. You can see the weight settling back over her shoulders, that thing that's been there since you walked out of Kim Youngmin's office.

You move to the couch and she follows automatically, arranging herself on your lap like she's done a hundred times before. Her legs drape over yours, body tucked into your chest. This close, you can feel how tense she is despite the casual positioning.

"The protest trucks in front of SM today," she says quietly. "Did you see them?"

"I saw photos online."

"The things they wrote..." Her voice trails off and you can fill in the blanks. You've seen enough of the comments, the trending hashtags, the coordinated hate campaigns.

"Don't think about it."

"How can I not? They're calling me every name you can imagine. Saying I betrayed them, that I'm selfish, that I don't deserve to be an idol. Some of them are sending funeral wreaths to the company. Funeral wreaths. Like I died."

You tilt her chin up and kiss her, trying to pour reassurance into it. When you pull back, you keep your forehead pressed to hers. "This will all pass. I promise."

"You don't know that."

"Think about it like getting really sick. You know that feeling? When you're lying in bed with the flu or food poisoning and you're convinced you're dying? It feels like the end of the world. Like you'll never feel normal again. But you do. Eventually it passes, your body heals, and you forget what it felt like to be that miserable. We're sick right now. The whole situation is sick. But we'll get better. You and I, we'll get better from this."

She searches your face and there's something like hope starting to break through the despair. "Since when do you use metaphors?"

"I'm training. Figure after SM fires me, I can start my writing career. Become a novelist or something."

That actually makes her laugh, a real one this time. "How are you being funny right now? At a moment like this?"

You shrug, lips quirking. "What else can I do? Our fate is in someone else's hands now. Might as well laugh while we wait for them to decide what happens to us."

She shakes her head but she's smiling, and you count that as a win. You slowly lie back on the couch, bringing her down with you. She settles fully on top of your chest, her weight grounding and familiar. You start petting her hair, running your fingers through the dark strands, and her eyes flutter closed.

"I don't care about losing the job if I still have you," you say into the quiet. "That's the truth. They can transfer me, fire me, whatever. As long as you're still here, I can handle anything else."

Her arms tighten around you, face pressing harder into your chest. "I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too."

"I mean it. I really love you. More than..." She takes a shaky breath. "More than I thought I could love anyone."

You keep stroking her hair, feeling her slowly start to relax into your touch. "I don't care about losing my career if it means I get to keep you," Jimin says suddenly. "If tomorrow Kim Youngmin says I have to choose between being Karina or being with you, I choose you. Every time. I'll choose you every time."

You weren't expecting that. Not really. You knew she loved you, knew she was serious about this relationship, but hearing her say she'd walk away from everything she's worked for since she was a teenager? That she'd give up aespa and the fame and the dream she's been chasing her whole life?

"Jimin—"

"I mean it." She props herself up to look at you directly and there are tears in her eyes. "I know what that sounds like. I know it's crazy. But these past few weeks with you have been the happiest I've ever been, and that includes every award, every sold-out show, every milestone. None of it means anything if I can't share it with you. If I have to pretend you don't exist or hide what we have or lose you completely? Then what's the point?"

You reach up and wipe the tear that's tracking down her cheek. "You really mean that."

"Yes." No hesitation. "I really mean it."

And you believe her. You can see it in her eyes, hear it in the way her voice doesn't waver. She would actually do it. She would walk away from Karina, from aespa, from the entire life she's built, if it meant keeping what you have together.

The weight of that kind of love is almost unbearable.

You pull her down and kiss her like you're trying to merge your souls, like you can somehow show her through this kiss what you can't find words for. She kisses back just as desperately, and when you finally break apart, you're both breathing hard.

"Tomorrow," you say. "We'll face whatever comes tomorrow. But right now, right here, we're okay. We have each other. That's enough."

She nods against your chest, and you hold her tighter as the night deepens around you. Whatever Kim Youngmin says, whatever options get chosen, whatever consequences rain down; you'll face it together. And that makes even the impossible seem survivable.

—

The next morning, you're both wearing your most professional outfits. Jimin in a black blazer and slacks that make her look like she means business, you in the nicest suit you own. It feels weird, getting dressed up for what's essentially a firing squad, but appearances matter. Especially now.

The conference room on the executive floor is bigger than the one yesterday, with a long table that could seat twenty people. You and Jimin take seats on one side. Across from you sits Kim Youngmin, flanked by two other executives you recognize from company events but have never actually spoken to. A woman in her fifties with severe glasses, head of PR. A younger guy, maybe early forties, from the legal department.

The door opens again and Winter walks in first, followed by Ning and Giselle. They look worried, eyes immediately finding Jimin. Winter sits next to her and squeezes her hand under the table. Ningning takes the seat on Jimin's other side. Giselle sits next to you, giving you a small encouraging nod.

"Thank you all for coming," Kim Youngmin says once everyone's settled. "I know this is an unusual situation, having the full group present for what is essentially a personal matter. But given the circumstances and the impact on aespa as a whole, we felt it was necessary for everyone to be informed and involved in the decision."

The PR head adjusts her glasses. "As you're all aware, footage of Jimin and—" she glances at you, "—was leaked two days ago. The response has been significant and largely negative. We've been monitoring the situation closely."

"Largely negative is putting it mildly," Giselle mutters.

The woman ignores that. "We presented two options to Jimin yesterday. After taking time to consider, we need their final decision on how to proceed. This will determine our response strategy, PR approach, and the immediate future of aespa's scheduled activities."

Kim Youngmin looks directly at Jimin. "So. What have you decided?"

You and Jimin exchange a look. You saw the fear in her eyes last night, but also the determination. You talked until almost three in the morning, weighing everything, playing out scenarios. In the end, it came down to one question: could you live with lying? Could she?

The answer was no.

Jimin sits up straighter, and when she speaks, there’s a firmness in her voice that almost makes it seem like she isn’t scared inside: "We want to confirm the relationship. No denials, no deepfake claims, no pretending we're just friends. The truth."

Winter, Ning, and Giselle immediately break into relieved smiles. Ningning actually does a little fist pump under the table.

The executives, on the other hand, look at each other with these grim expressions that say they were hoping you'd pick literally any other option.

"You understand the risks," the PR head says. It's not a question.

"Yes."

"The potential career impact. The fan backlash. The—"

"I understand," Jimin says firmly. "This is our final decision."

Kim Youngmin leans back in his chair. "Alright then. Here's what happens now. SM will begin preparing an official statement. It will be released tomorrow afternoon through all official channels; website, social media, press release to major outlets. The statement will confirm the relationship, emphasize the long-term friendship foundation, and request respect for your privacy going forward."

"aespa's activities will be temporarily paused," the legal guy adds, pulling out a folder of documents. "Scheduled appearances are being canceled or postponed. The photo shoot for Elle next week is off. The variety show filming is off. Radio interviews, all off."

"Wait," Ningning says, leaning forward. "Everything?"

"Anything that involves public promotion or group appearances, yes. Previous commitments that are already completed will still be released as planned. The makeup campaign you filmed last month will still air, the photoshoot from two weeks ago will still be published. But new activities are suspended indefinitely."

Winter's face has gone pale. "For how long?"

"Until we can properly assess the situation and gauge public sentiment. Could be a few weeks, could be months."

"What about the international tour?" Giselle asks. "The official announcement will be next month.”

The PR head exchanges a look with Kim Youngmin. "That's still being decided. We need to see how Western fans react to the news. If the response is as hostile as it is domestically, it might be better to cancel and issue refunds. If there's more support internationally, we may proceed as planned but with modified promotion."

The girls look gutted. You know how much they were looking forward to that tour. The LA stop. New York. London. It was supposed to be huge for them.

Jimin's grip on Winter's hand tightens but she keeps her expression neutral. "And what about him?" She tilts her head toward you. "Is he getting fired?"

"We will attempt to reassign him to a different management team," Kim Youngmin says. "Another group, ideally one with no connection to aespa. If HR approves the transfer, we'll notify him by next week. If they don't..." He doesn't need to finish that sentence.

"That's bullshit," Giselle says bluntly. "He's good at his job. This has nothing to do with his competency."

"It's a conflict of interest situation. We have to maintain certain standards."

"Whose standards?" Winter asks, and wow, you've never heard her sound angry before. She's usually the sweet one. "You're punishing them for being happy."

"We're managing a crisis," the PR head snaps. "One that could have been avoided if proper boundaries had been maintained."

"Okay," you say, because this is getting heated and the last thing Jimin needs is her members getting in trouble on your behalf. "Okay. I accept the terms. The reassignment or whatever happens. Let's just move forward."

Kim Youngmin nods like he appreciates you defusing the situation. "One more thing, Jimin. Do not post anything on social media during this period. No statements, no photos, no Instagram stories. Nothing. All communication goes through official SM channels. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Alright then." He closes his folder. "We'll be in touch with updates as the situation develops. For now, I suggest you all go home and prepare for the statement release tomorrow. It's going to be a media circus."

The meeting ends with a weird formal feeling, everyone standing and gathering their things in stiff silence. The executives leave first. Once they're gone, the atmosphere shifts immediately.

Ningning throws her arms around Jimin. "I'm so proud of you."

"Me too," Winter says, joining the hug. "That took guts."

Giselle wraps her arms around all of them, creating this group huddle thing. You stand awkwardly to the side until Giselle reaches out and yanks you into it.

"You too," she says. "You're part of this now."

When they finally break apart, Jimin has tears in her eyes but she's smiling. "Thank you. God, thank you guys so much. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd probably make terrible decisions," Ningning teases. "Good thing you have us."

"Seriously though," Winter says, "we're here. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. We're sisters. This doesn't change that."

"If anything, it makes us stronger," Giselle adds. "Fuck the haters. We're aespa. We've been through worse."

"Have we though?" Ningning asks.

"Okay, maybe not worse. But we'll get through this too."

They migrate into the hallway, instinctively forming this protective circle around Jimin. You hang back slightly, giving them space, but Jimin reaches for your hand and pulls you into the group.

"There's nothing we can do right now except wait," Winter says. "You guys did what you could. Made your choice. Now it's out of your hands."

"Use this time to rest," Ningning suggests. "Get away from the internet. Don't read the comments, don't check Twitter, just... exist for a while without all the noise."

"She's right," Giselle says. "The next few weeks are going to be hell. Take care of each other. Sleep. Eat actual food. Watch stupid movies. Do normal people things."

Jimin nods, wiping at her eyes. "I love you guys. So much."

"We love you too," they say in unison, and then they're hugging again.

You watch them and smile proudly at this group. Whatever happens, Jimin has this. She has people who love her unconditionally, who'll stand by her even when the world turns hostile. That matters more than any tour or commercial deal. Then, eventually they have to go. Ning has a vocal lesson, Winter has a meeting with her personal trainer, Giselle has a photoshoot for a magazine. They extract themselves reluctantly, making Jimin promise to text them later, to let them know she's okay.

Once they're gone, Jimin turns to you in the quiet hallway. "What are we going to do now?"

You've been thinking about this since last night. About what she needs, what you both need. How to get through the storm that's about to hit.

"I have something in mind," you say.

She looks up at you, curious. "Yeah?"

"Trust me?"

"Always.”

—

The bus drops you off at the main intersection and from there it's a fifteen minute walk. Gapyeong is exactly what you remembered, this small quiet city about an hour outside Seoul where time moves differently. Slower. The air smells cleaner here, pine trees and fresh water from the nearby river instead of exhaust fumes and convenience store kimchi. It's a beautiful afternoon, the kind where the sun hits everything at this perfect golden angle that makes even ordinary things look special.

You and Jimin are both hauling suitcases and backpacks, dressed down in hoodies and masks and baseball caps. Incognito mode. Nobody's recognized you yet, which feels like a small miracle considering your faces have been plastered across every news site in Korea for the past two days.

"It's this street," you say, checking your phone one last time before you shut it off completely. "Should be the fourth house on the left."

Jimin adjusts her backpack strap. "I can't believe we're actually doing this. Just disappearing."

"For a week. Then we'll face reality again."

"A week sounds perfect."

You find the house and stop in front of it. It's exactly how you remember it from your childhood visits, a small traditional hanok with modern renovations. White walls and dark wood beams, a tiled roof that curves at the edges. There's a small garden in front that's slightly overgrown but charming in that wild way.

"This is it," you say.

Jimin pulls down her mask to get a better look. "Whose place is this?"

"My late grandmother's house. She left it to my cousin when she passed. He's traveling for work right now, some engineering project in Singapore, so the place is empty. I ran into him in Seoul a few days ago, so I asked if you and I could stay at the house for a while. He was actually happy about it. Said as long as we water the plants, we'd be doing him a favor."

You pull out the key from your pocket and unlock the front door. When it swings open you're hit with that smell, the one that's pure nostalgia. Wood and aged paper and the subtle scent of flowers in the backyard. The interior is clean and well maintained despite being empty. Your cousin clearly takes care of the place even when he's not living here.

Jimin steps inside and immediately does this slow spin, taking everything in. The wooden floors, the traditional sliding doors, the low table in the living room, the small kitchen visible through an archway. "Oh my god. This is beautiful."

"I knew you'd like it."

"Like it? I love it." She sets her suitcase down and walks further in, fingers trailing along the wall. "It feels so... I don't know. Peaceful? Like the outside world doesn't exist here."

"That's kind of the point."

She turns back to you and there's this lightness in her expression that you haven't seen since before the leak. "Show me around?"

You give her the tour. It's not a big house but every room has character. The main bedroom with its floor mattress and the window that overlooks the backyard garden. The second smaller bedroom that your cousin uses as an office. The bathroom with its traditional tub. The kitchen with the ancient rice cooker your grandmother refused to replace because it made the best rice.

"We can stay in the main room," you say. "It's got the most space and the best view."

Jimin nods, already pulling clothes out of her suitcase. "I need to change. I've been in these jeans for like six hours."

"Yeah, me too."

You both change into more comfortable clothes. You swap your jeans for sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. Jimin emerges from the bathroom wearing this floral dress, white background with small blue flowers scattered across it. It's simple and summery and makes her look like she belongs in a painting.

"Wow," you say before you can stop yourself.

She does a little twirl. "Too much?"

"Perfect. You look perfect."

She grins and sits down on the edge of the floor mattress, tucking her legs under her. "Okay, so what's the plan? You said you had something in mind. I trust you, obviously. You always come up with the best ideas."

You smile but also feel the pressure of that statement. "Alright, so. I'll admit this one's not as elaborate as the camping trip. Actually, it's simpler. But I think that's what we need right now."

"I'm listening."

You dig into your backpack and pull out something wrapped in brown paper. Jimin watches curiously as you unwrap it to reveal a leather-bound photo album, the kind with blank pages where you manually insert photos. Old school.

She looks confused. "Is that... a notebook?"

"Photo album. And since we're going to be offline for a bit, disconnected from everything digital, I thought we could do something more manual. A special little project." You hold it up. "There's an analog camera here somewhere, my grandfather's old one. The idea is that you and I spend this week walking around the city, taking pictures, filling this album. Real physical photos that we develop and then put them in here.”

Jimin's eyes are getting wider.

"And in the future," you continue, "when we look back on this time in our lives, we won't remember the scandal or the hate or the fear. We'll remember this album. These photos. The memories we made together when everything else was falling apart."

"YES!" Jimin literally shouts it, jumping up from the mattress. "Oh my god, yes! That's brilliant! That's so romantic!"

She throws herself at you, nearly knocking you over. Her arms wrap around your neck and she's kissing you, fast excited kisses all over your face.

"This is perfect," she says between kisses. "This is the most beautiful thing anyone's ever planned for me. We're going to fill that whole album. Every single page."

"I was hoping you'd be into it."

"Into it? I'm obsessed with it. Come on, let's go right now." She grabs your hand and starts pulling you toward the door.

You laugh, holding her back. "Wait, wait. We need the camera first. And the film rolls. And we also need to water the plants in the backyard before we leave. My cousin specifically asked about the plants."

She stops, composing herself. "Right. You're right. Okay. Camera first. Where is it?"

"Honestly? No idea. I haven't been here in years. We'll have to search for it."

You both start looking through the house. Jimin takes the office room, going through drawers and closets. You check the main bedroom, looking in the wardrobe and under the bed. Nothing. You move to the living room, checking the cabinets built into the walls. Still nothing.

"Found film!" Jimin calls from the office. "There's like, a whole box of unused rolls."

"Nice. Keep looking for the camera."

Ten minutes later, you're starting to worry your grandfather's camera got lost or donated when Jimin calls out from the kitchen.

"Got it!"

You rush in and find her holding up a vintage Canon AE-1, the black body a little worn but clearly well cared for. There's a lens attached and a brown leather strap.

"Where was it?"

"In the cabinet above the fridge. There's a whole shelf of random stuff up there."

You take the camera from her, feeling the weight of it. It's heavier than modern cameras, solid and real in your hands. You pop open the back to check the mechanisms and everything looks functional.

"This was my grandfather's," you say, running your thumb over the grip. "He developed this little hobby for photography when he got older. Started taking tons of photos. He loved photographing my grandmother especially. Just candid shots of her cooking or reading or tending the garden. She'd always complain about it but you could tell she secretly loved the attention."

Jimin moves closer, looking at the camera with new appreciation.

"When he got sick," you continue, "near the end, he told me he wanted me to have this. Made me promise I'd take care of it, use it, keep taking pictures. But I never came back here to pick it up after he passed. Life got busy, I went to study abroad, and I just... forgot. I don't know. It's a strange feeling. But now feels like the right time, you know? Like maybe he was waiting for this moment."

Jimin's hand finds yours. "I remember when you'd come here on weekends. You'd come back with all these funny stories about your grandparents. Your grandmother teaching you to make kimchi, your grandfather showing you his garden. I always wanted to come with you so badly."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I'd ask my parents all the time if I could tag along, but they never let me. Said it was family time and I shouldn't intrude." She looks around the house again, this wistful expression on her face. "I used to imagine what it was like here. Built this whole fantasy version in my head."

"And now you're here," you say. "With me."

She smiles, that real genuine smile that makes her whole face light up. "Yeah. Now I'm finally here. With you."

You load the film into the camera, the mechanical click satisfying as it catches. "Alright. Camera's ready. We've got film. We just need to water those plants and then we can start our photography adventure."

"Lead the way."

The backyard is a lush, slightly wild patch of green. There are raised beds overflowing with herbs and vegetables you can't name, and a line of clay pots with blooming flowers sits along the stone wall. A hose is coiled up near the back door, but you also spot a vintage-looking metal watering can hanging from a hook on the wall.

"I'll get the plants," Jimin says, taking the watering can.

"Are you sure? I can do it."

"No, I want to. I haven't done anything like this since... ever, probably." She fills the can from the spigot and starts methodically watering the tomato plants.

You watch her for a moment, the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves of a large persimmon tree, catching the highlights in her hair. She's completely absorbed in her task. An idea sparks. You quietly lift your grandfather's camera, holding it up to your eye, pretending it's a full-blown documentary camera.

"And here we are," you say in your best David Attenborough voice, low and serious. "Witnessing something truly rare. The elusive K-pop idol, Yoo Jimin, also known as Karina, spotted far from her natural habitat of sold-out stadiums and blinding camera flashes."

Jimin looks up, a confused smile on her face. "What are you doing?"

"Shhh," you whisper loudly. "We're documenting. Here she is, engaging in... is that manual labor? Yes, it appears to be. Watering plants like an ordinary, common woman. What a historical record for future generations. Notice the technique, the focus. She shows a surprising aptitude for it."

She sighs but can't hide the wide grin spreading across her face. "Oh my god, stop. You're ridiculous." She turns her back to you, pretending to be focused on a pot of basil, but you can see her shoulders shaking with laughter.

"C'mon, don't be camera shy," you continue, circling her. "The world needs to see this. The 'real' Karina. Unplugged. Unfiltered. One with the earth."

She finally turns back, trying and failing to look annoyed. "Don't you have something better to film?"

"Nope. This is the most interesting thing happening in the world right now." You zoom in on her face. "Okay, okay, documentary's over." You pull the camera away from her for a moment. "But seriously, stay right there. Just... smile for me. A real one."

And that's how it starts. The mini photoshoot in the backyard. She doesn't even have to try. Every angle is her best angle. You tell her to lean against the old wooden fence, and she does, looking off into the distance like she's on the cover of some indie folk album. You have her sit on the stone steps of the back porch, and she pulls her knees to her chest, laughing as you tell a joke. She picks a small wildflower and tucks it behind her ear, her expression turning dreamy. She makes you look like some genius photographer, but you know the truth: the camera just loves her. It's impossible to take a bad picture of Yoo Jimin.

At the end of it all, she stands up, brushing her hands on her dress. "Okay, I think my modeling career is officially over. My hands are filthy."

She walks over to the hose to wash them, turning the spigot just enough for a gentle stream. The water splashes over her hands, washing away the dark soil. Her hair, which was perfectly styled this morning, is now loose and a little wild from the breeze and her movements. A smudge of dirt has found its way onto her floral dress, just above the hem. And as she looks up at you, pushing a stray strand of hair from her face, she looks absolutely perfect. Not idol perfect, with the flawless makeup and designer clothes. Just... her. Real and beautiful and standing in your grandmother's backyard.

You raise the camera one last time. The shutter clicks.

You know you've just captured something true.

"What was that one for?" she asks, drying her hands on her dress.

"That," you say, "was the first official photo for our album."

Her face lights up. "We did it! We started!" She runs over and jumps into your arms, wrapping her legs around your waist. "We already have photos! This is going to be the best album ever."

You hold her tight. “It’s going to go down in history as the best amateur photography album,” you say, laughing as you kiss the top of her head.

Finally, after finishing watering the plants, you and Jimin step out of the house. She has the camera strap slung over her shoulder this time. She looks like a tourist, an adventurer, anything but a global superstar on the run from a career-ending scandal.

"Okay," she says, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Where to first, Mr. Photographer?"

"I was thinking we'd just... walk. See where the city takes us." You shrug. "No plan. Just moments."

She loves that. Her smile is so wide it makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. "This feels like a movie."

"Which one?"

"I don't know yet. We're writing it as we go."

Your first stop is an old bridge that arches over the Bukhan River. The water flows lazily below, sparkling in the sun. A few fishermen are dotted along the banks, their lines cast out in patient silence. It’s a world away from the frantic energy of Seoul.

"Okay, go stand in the middle," you instruct, already lifting the camera to your eye.

Jimin walks to the center of the bridge and leans against the railing, looking out over the water. The wind gently plays with her hair, and the floral dress flutters around her legs. She’s not posing, not really. She's just being. And it’s breathtaking.

"Did you get it?" she calls out.

"I think so. We'll find out in a few weeks"

She laughs. "The suspense is killing me. My turn."

She runs over, takes the camera from you, and shoves you gently toward the railing. "Your turn to look pensive and handsome."

You feel awkward, unsure what to do with your hands. "I'm not the model here."

"Bullshit. You're my model." She circles you, looking through the viewfinder. "Okay, just… think about something. Something good."

You think about her. About waking up next to her this morning, about the way she laughed when you pretended to be a documentary filmmaker, about how right it feels to be here with her.

"Got it!" she says, looking pleased with herself.

As you wander deeper into the town, you fall into an easy rhythm. You take pictures of her admiring a display of colorful pottery outside a shop. She takes a picture of you buying two ice cream cones from a street vendor. You capture the way she closes her eyes in bliss with her first bite of the strawberry cone. She captures the smear of chocolate you have on your nose. Each click of the shutter feels like you're bottling a little piece of this perfect day.

You find a quiet side street lined with old bookstores and small, independent cafes. The walls are covered in layers of faded murals and peeling paint, a collage of history and art.

"Oh, this is beautiful," Jimin says, running her hand over a painting of a giant koi fish. "This reminds me of that movie. You know the one."

"Which one?"

"Before Sunrise." she answers softly. "Two people, just walking and talking through a beautiful city, falling in love. That's us right now. Except we're already in love."

"I think that makes it the sequel," you say, leaning against the wall next to her. "Before Sunset."

"The one where they find each other again after years apart? Oh my god, that's even more us!" She looks at you, her eyes shining. "This whole day feels like a scene from it. Just… us against the world, making our own little bubble."

You reach out and tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I'd walk through a thousand cities with you."

"Good. Because I'd want you to."

She raises the camera and snaps a picture of you, so close you can hear the whir of the film advancing. Then she hands the camera back.

"We need one together," she says. "For the first page of the album."

"A selfie with this thing is going to be tricky." You hold the heavy camera at arm's length, trying to angle it so you're both in the frame. It’s awkward and heavy.

"Here, let me." Jimin squeezes in next to you, her cheek pressing against yours. She wraps her arm around your back, her other hand helping you support the camera. You're tangled up together, laughing as you try to find the shutter button without looking.

"Okay, on three," you say. "Smile."

"One… two…"

She turns at the last second and kisses your cheek.

"Did we get it?" she asks, pulling back with a grin.

"No idea," you laugh. "But if we did, it's a good one."

You can feel the moment solidifying into a memory even as it's happening. The warmth of her body pressed against yours, the scent of her perfume, the feeling of her lips on your skin. This picture, whether it turns out blurry or perfectly in focus, will always be this feeling.

She takes your hand as you continue walking, her fingers laced through yours. "This is the best plan you've ever had," Jimin says quietly, leaning her head on your shoulder as you walk. "Even better than camping."

"I told you it was simpler."

"It's not simple," she counters. "It's… essential. It's real. Just us."

You squeeze her hand. The scandal feels like a bad dream you’re slowly waking up from. It's still out there, waiting for you. But for now, in this quiet city, under the golden afternoon sun, it can’t touch you. So, like this, you two continue, without any clear direction, you wander down the main street until you spot a small family-run restaurant with paper lanterns hanging in the window. The kind of place that's been there for decades, where the menu is handwritten and laminated, slightly faded from years of use.

"You hungry?" you ask.

Jimin nods enthusiastically. "Starving. All this walking and picture taking has me ready to eat everything."

The interior is cozy, maybe six tables total. An older woman greets you with a warm smile and gestures to a table by the window. You slide into the booth across from Jimin, the camera carefully placed on the seat beside you. The menu is simple. Comfort food. Jjigae, bibimbap, various banchan. Perfect.

After you both order bibimbap, Jimin leans forward on her elbows, chin resting in her hands. "You know, I just realized I never asked you about your student exchange. How was it? You were in London, right?"

"Yeah, London. It was really cool, actually. Different from what I expected but in a good way."

"Would you ever want to go back? Like, work there or something?"

You take a sip of the barley tea the woman brought over. The question sits heavier than it should. "Funny you should ask that."

"Why?"

"I've never told anyone this, but..." You pause, tracing the rim of your glass with your finger. "I actually got a job offer there. After I finished the exchange program. A good one too, PR firm, international clients, the whole package."

Jimin's eyebrows shoot up. "Wait, seriously? Why didn't you take it?"

"It was around the time my grandparents passed away. Both of them, same year. Three months apart. My grandmother first, then my grandfather just... gave up, I think. Didn't want to be here without her."

"Oh," Jimin says softly.

"And I was sitting in this tiny London apartment, staring at the job offer email, and I just... couldn't do it. Something about losing them made me realize I didn't want to be far away from the people I love. From family. From home." You meet her eyes. "Something told me I needed to come back, to stay close. And then eventually I ran into you again. Maybe it was a sign, you know? Like I was supposed to find you again."

Jimin's expression has shifted, something tender and aching in it.

"So I'm glad I turned it down," you continue. "My parents don't know about the offer. They'd probably think I was insane for rejecting it. But I don't regret it at all."

You find yourself getting lost in the thought, your gaze drifting to the window where people pass by on the street, living their ordinary lives. "Time passes too quickly to not spend it close to the people you love. That would be too great a sacrifice, you know? I'm probably built wrong for this world." You laugh a little. "Modern capitalism, the current model of society, all of it tells you to chase opportunities, climb ladders, sacrifice everything for career advancement. The way I acted wasn't conventional. Most people would think it's stupid, actually. Objectively stupid."

The food arrives but you barely notice, still caught in your own thoughts.

"And maybe I'll be unemployed now after all this," you say, gesturing vaguely at the situation you're both in. "But at least I found love. At least I have—"

You finally look at Jimin's face to tell her that the only right thing you did was choose to be with her, and you freeze. She's crying. Not sobbing, but tears are streaming down her cheeks, her eyes red and glassy.

"Whoa, hey, why are you crying?" You reach across the table instinctively.

"That's so sad," she says, sniffling. "I didn't know any of that. About your grandparents, both of them in the same year. God."

"Jimin—"

"You must have felt so much pressure at the time." She grabs your hand with both of hers, holding tight. "And you were alone in London dealing with all of it. I wish I'd been there to hug you. To help you through it."

You give a small laugh, squeezing her hands. "It's okay now, baby. You don't need to worry. It was hard, yeah, but it's okay now. Really. You don't need to cry."

"I'm sorry." She wipes at her face with the back of her hand, smudging her minimal makeup. "I just feel so sorry for what you went through. And you never told anyone about the job offer, you've been carrying that alone this whole time."

Without thinking, you reach for the camera and lift it to your eye.

Jimin blinks, startled. "Why did you just take a picture of me like this? I'm a mess."

"I don't know." You set the camera down gently. "It just seemed real. You, right now, caring about something that happened to me years ago. Getting emotional over it. That's real. Genuine, I guess.”

She sniffles, trying to compose herself. "You're so weird, babe."

"You love it."

"I do." A watery smile breaks through. "I love you."

"I love you too.

The restaurant owner brings extra napkins without commenting on Jimin's tears, just gives a knowing, grandmotherly smile before retreating. You finally start eating, the conversation shifting to lighter things, but something has deepened between you. Another layer peeled back, another piece of yourselves shared and held sacred.

You clear your throat, gesturing to the steaming bowls in front of you both. "Come on, let's eat before it gets cold. This looks too good to waste."

Jimin nods, wiping the last traces of tears from her cheeks with the napkin. She picks up her chopsticks and takes her first bite of the bibimbap, mixing the vegetables and rice together. Almost immediately, her expression shifts from emotional vulnerability to pure contentment. Her eyes close and she makes this small sound of satisfaction that makes you smile despite everything. There's something about watching her eat, the way she loses herself in simple pleasures, that makes your chest feel full. She's beautiful like this. Just Jimin, your Jimin, sitting across from you in a small-town restaurant with slightly red eyes, completely absorbed in a bowl of rice and vegetables.

You dig into your own food. The two of you eat in comfortable silence for a while. It's domestic and easy, the kind of moment that doesn't need words to be perfect. At one point she looks up at you mid-bite and just smiles, this soft genuine thing that reaches her eyes, and you think about how you'd give up a thousand job offers in London just to have more moments exactly like this one.

When you're both finished, you flag down the owner and pay the bill despite Jimin's half-hearted protest that she should pay since she's the one with the idol money. You remind her that you're technically still employed for at least another week, so you're taking advantage while you can. That makes her laugh as you both stand and gather your things. Your stomach is full and happy, that pleasant heaviness that comes from a good meal shared with someone you love.

Outside, the late afternoon sun has started its descent, painting everything in shades of gold and amber. Jimin stretches her arms above her head, her dress riding up slightly before she smooths it back down. "Where to now?" she asks, linking her arm through yours. "It's going to get dark soon."

"I've got a few ideas," you start to say, already thinking about the small park you remember from childhood visits, the one with the old pavilion that overlooks the valley. "There's this place I used to go with my grandfather, up on the hill where—"

"Oh my god!"

The sudden shriek cuts you off mid-sentence. You both turn to find a group of four girls, probably late teens or early twenties, frozen on the sidewalk about ten feet away. Their eyes are wide, phones already halfway out of their pockets, staring at Jimin like they've just witnessed a miracle.

"It's Karina!" one of them says with disbelief. "It's actually Karina!"

They rush over in a flurry of excitement. "Hi! Hello! Oh my god, we're such huge fans!" They glance at you briefly, a quick polite nod and a "hello" in your direction, but their focus immediately returns to Jimin, who looks momentarily caught off guard, her body tensing slightly against yours before she smooths her expression into something warm and polite. The switch is so fast you almost miss it, the way she shifts from girlfriend to idol in the span of a heartbeat. "Hi," she says, genuinely kind despite the surprise. "How are you guys?"

"We're amazing! Even better now!" The tallest one of the group, wearing a denim jacket covered in enamel pins, gestures wildly. "You're so much more beautiful in person. Like, you don't even seem real."

Another girl, shorter with glasses, nods enthusiastically. "Seriously, you're like... glowing. How do you even look like this without all the stage makeup?"

Jimin laughs, a little embarrassed. "You guys are too sweet. Really."

"Can we take a picture with you?" the third girl asks, already pulling out her phone. "Please? We'll literally die if we don't."

"Of course," Jimin says without hesitation.

They take turns, each girl getting their individual selfie with her. Jimin knows exactly how to angle herself, which poses look best, where the light hits. She's done this thousands of times and it shows. Each girl looks absolutely euphoric when they check their photo, already probably planning which filter to use and what caption to write. You stand off to the side, holding the analog camera and watching. A couple of them glance at you with knowing looks, probably putting two and two together about who you are, but they don't say anything directly. There's this moment where the girl with the denim jacket meets your eyes and gives you this small nod, almost approving, before turning back to Jimin.

"We just want you to know," the girl with glasses says, "we're so sorry about what you're going through right now. The whole controversy thing. It's so unfair."

The others murmur in agreement. "We're totally on your side," another adds. "We've been supporting you online, fighting with all the haters."

The tall one grins proudly. "I wrote this whole thread defending you on Twitter and it got like fifteen thousand likes. People are with you, Karina. Real fans understand."

Something in Jimin's expression cracks, just for a second, and you see genuine gratitude flood her features. "Thank you," she says, smiling. "That means more than you know. Really. Thank you so much for supporting me."

"Is aespa going to end?" one of them asks quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

Jimin takes a breath. "I don't have clear answers right now," she admits. "Everything is really confusing and uncertain. But aespa isn't going to end. We're stronger than this."

"Good," the girl in the denim jacket says firmly. "Because true fans will be with you and the other girls until the end. No matter what. We're not going anywhere."

The conviction in her voice, the way all four of them nod in agreement, it's like watching a small army pledge their loyalty. Jimin's eyes get glassy again and she reaches out to squeeze the nearest girl's hand. "Thank you. All of you. For being here, for caring. It helps more than you know."

They eventually say their goodbyes, walking away in an animated cluster of excited whispers and phone checking. You watch them go before turning back to Jimin.

"That was nice," you say. "Seeing a little support every now and then. Reminds you it's not all terrible."

Jimin nods, still looking a bit emotional. "Yeah. It really does."

"Those are your true fans," you continue, "People who actually care about you, who want to see you well and happy. Not those other jerks who think they can control your life like you're some kind of puppet they own."

Jimin's eyebrows rise. "Oh, wow. Someone's a little sour now."

"I've got nothing left to lose at this point. Might as well say what I think. I'm done being the good guy. I'm the bad boy now."

That makes her laugh, loudly, the sound bright and clear in the quiet street. "You? A bad boy? Babe, you couldn't pull that off even if you tried. You're a little angel. All well-behaved and sweet. A total good boy."

You feel your cheeks heat up, laughing despite yourself. "I have layers, okay? I'm complex. Multifaceted."

"You have layers," she agrees, reaching up to pat your cheek affectionately. "And they're all adorable and cute."

"Alright, alright," you concede, "I can see you're not going to let me win this one."

She grins triumphantly, taking your hand again. "Never. Now come on, show me this place you were talking about before we were so wonderfully interrupted."

—

After a full day of wandering through Gapyeong's quiet streets, snapping photos and stealing moments that feel like they belong in a different, simpler world, you both finally make it back to the house. You set the plastic bag containing your dinner on the kitchen table, and both of you collapse onto the couch with synchronized groans of exhaustion and satisfaction.

"That was a great day," Jimin says, letting her head fall back against the cushions, eyes closed.

"Yeah," you agree, carefully placing your grandfather's camera on the coffee table. "We used up the whole roll."

She opens one eye to look at the camera. "All of it?"

"Every single shot. Thirty-six pictures of the best day."

"It's kind of crazy to think about, you know? My career is under threat. Everything I've built since I was a teenager is on the verge of collapsing. The entire world is probably talking about me right now, tearing me apart online. And yet..." She gestures around the quiet living room, at the two of you sprawled on this old couch in the middle of nowhere. "Everything feels so peaceful right now. Like none of that exists."

She shifts closer, cupping your face with one hand, her thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone. Her eyes search yours, dark and deep and full of love. Then she leans in and kisses you, slow and soft, tasting faintly of the honey candy she'd been sucking on during the walk home. When she pulls back, her forehead rests against yours.

"Thank you," she whispers. "For this. For today, for this week, for this moment. Things don't seem so bad when I'm by your side."

You catch her hand and bring it to your lips, kissing her palm, her wrist, the delicate inside of her forearm. "Always," you murmur against her skin.

She sighs, content, then reluctantly pulls away. "I should take a shower. Get cleaned up. Then we can have dinner, maybe watch a movie together?" She stretches, her dress riding up slightly on her thighs before she tugs it back down. "Something mindless and fun. No thinking allowed."

"Sounds perfect," you say, but you don't move. An idea has been forming in the back of your mind all day, watching her laugh and pose and exist so freely in that floral dress that catches the light just right. "But first, there's something I want to do for you. To help you relax."

Her eyebrow arches, curious. "Oh?"

You slide off the couch and kneel on the floor between her legs, your hands coming to rest on her knees. She watches you with growing interest, her breath already changing rhythm. You let your palms slide slowly up her thighs, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress.

"You look so beautiful in this dress," you tell her, leaning in to press a kiss to her inner thigh, just above her knee. "Been thinking about this all day."

She makes a soft sound, her legs parting slightly. "Have you?"

"Mm-hmm." You kiss higher, your hands following the path of your mouth, gradually pushing the hem of her dress up inch by inch. Her skin is soft and warm, and you can feel the fine tremor running through her muscles as you work your way up. Another kiss, then another, trailing a slow line toward the apex of her thighs.

"Okay," she breathes, her hand coming to rest in your hair. "Don't stop."

You have no intention of stopping. Your lips continue their journey, reverent and unhurried, as your hands push her dress higher until it's bunched around her hips. She's wearing simple cotton panties, already damp, and the sight makes heat coil low in your belly. Her legs open wider for you, her head falling back against the couch as a sigh escapes her lips.

"God," she murmurs, eyes fluttering closed. "That feels good."

You hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties and slowly drag them down her thighs, over her knees, off completely. She's gorgeous like this, spread out before you, her pussy pink and glistening in the dim lamplight. You look up at her face, flushed and wanting, and can't help but smile.

"You know," you say, your breath ghosting over her skin, "the good side of this exile is that we can have sex whenever we want. No sneaking around, no worrying about who might walk in."

Jimin laughs breathlessly, starting to respond. "True, we can just… Just… Oh fuck!’

Her words dissolve into a moan as your mouth finally makes contact, your tongue dragging slowly through her folds. She tastes like perfection, and the sound she makes,high and needy, goes straight to your cock. Your hands grip her thighs, holding her open as you work your tongue against her clit, circling and teasing until her hips start to roll against your face.

"Yes," she gasps, her fingers tightening in your head. "Just like that. Don't stop, please don't stop."

And you don't. You settle into a rhythm, your tongue working against her clit in slow, deliberate circles that have her gasping and squirming on the couch. Her taste fills your senses, sweet and musky and entirely addictive. You can feel her thighs trembling on either side of your head, the muscles tensing and releasing with each stroke of your tongue. Her hand is still tangled in your hair, not quite pulling but holding you there like she's afraid you might stop.

"Fuck," she breathes, her hips rolling up to meet your mouth. "That's so good. Your tongue feels so good."

You pull back just enough to speak, your lips still brushing against her wet heat. "You taste incredible. I could do this for hours." And you mean it. There's something intoxicating about having her like this, spread open and vulnerable and completely at your mercy. You drag your tongue through her folds again, slower this time, savoring every inch of her.

Jimin whimpers, her free hand clutching at the couch cushion beside her. "You're teasing me."

"Maybe a little," you admit, grinning against her pussy. You place an open-mouthed kiss directly on her clit and she jerks, a sharp gasp escaping her. "But you like it when I tease you, don't you baby?"

"Yes," she admits breathlessly. "God, yes. But I also like it when you make me come."

"Patience," you murmur, and then you're back to work, your tongue flat and broad as you lick her from entrance to clit in one long, slow stroke. She moans, low and needy, and you do it again. And again. Building a steady rhythm that has her panting above you.

You can feel her getting wetter, her arousal coating your chin and lips. The sounds she's making are obscene, these breathy little moans and whimpers that make your cock strain painfully against your pants. You shift slightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but your focus stays entirely on her. On the way her body responds to every touch, every lick, every deliberate stroke of your tongue.

"Talk to me," you say between kisses to her inner thigh. "Tell me how it feels."

Jimin's head is thrown back, her neck arched beautifully, and it takes her a moment to find words. "It feels... fuck, it feels amazing. Like I'm going to lose my mind. Your mouth is so fucking perfect."

You hum against her clit in approval and she cries out, her hips bucking. "Sensitive?" you ask, even though you know the answer.

"Very," she gasps. "Everything feels so intense right now. Like every nerve is on fire."

You love that you can do this to her, reduce her to this trembling, desperate thing. Karina, the untouchable idol who commands stages and captivates millions, completely undone by your tongue. There's power in that, and tenderness too. You press a soft kiss to her clit before taking it gently between your lips and sucking.

"Oh god, oh fuck—" Her words dissolve into a moan, her fingers tightening almost painfully in your hair. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

But you do stop, pulling back to look up at her. Her face is flushed, lips parted as she pants, eyes full of arousal and a hint of frustration at the loss of contact. "Look at me," you tell her.

She does, her gaze finding yours, and the sight of you between her legs, chin wet with her arousal, makes her whimper. "You're cruel."

"I just want to see you," you say, your hands stroking soothingly up and down her thighs. "Want to watch your face while I make you feel good." You lean in again, your tongue flicking quickly over her clit. Her mouth opens on a silent gasp. "You're so beautiful like this. So fucking perfect."

"I'm a mess," she protests weakly.

"Yeah," you agree, grinning. "My mess." You dive back in with enthusiasm, alternating between broad strokes of your tongue and focused attention on her clit. You can feel her getting closer, the tension building in her body, the way her breathing becomes more erratic.

"That's it," she encourages. "Right there, fuck, right there."

You maintain the exact rhythm and pressure she needs, your hands gripping her hips to hold her steady as she starts to rock against your face. Her thighs are trembling violently now, squeezing around your head, and you know she's close. So close. You can feel it in the way her muscles are tensing, hear it in the pitch of her moans climbing higher and higher.

But then you slow down, easing off just enough to keep her on the edge without pushing her over.

"No," she whines. "Why did you… I was so close."

You pull back again, placing soft kisses along her inner thigh while she catches her breath. "I know. I want to take my time with you. We're not in a rush, remember? No one's going to interrupt us. No schedules to keep. Just you and me."

She makes a sound that's something between a laugh and a groan. "You're going to kill me."

"Never," you promise. You want to worship her, to spend hours between her thighs learning every sound she makes, every spot that makes her gasp. "Besides, you love it when I draw it out. When I make you wait for it."

"I do," she admits, her hand gentle in your hair now, stroking rather than gripping. "But I also love when you make me come so hard I can't think straight."

"We'll get there," you assure her. "I promise. But first..." You lean in and run your tongue through her folds again, gathering her wetness. "I want to enjoy this. Enjoy you."

She shivers at your words, at the sensation of your mouth on her again. "You're such a tease."

"Only because you're so fun to tease." You focus your attention on her clit again, circling it with the tip of your tongue in a pattern that has her moaning within seconds. "And because you get so wet when I take my time. Look at you, baby. You're dripping."

"That's your fault," she gasps, her hips rolling seeking more pressure.

"Mm, I'll take responsibility for that." You slide one finger through her entrance, not pushing in yet, just gathering the slickness there. "You feel so good. So soft and wet and perfect."

"Please," she breathes. "I need more."

"More of this?" You circle her clit with your tongue, firm and steady.

"Yes, fuck, yes."

"Or more of this?" You slowly slide one finger inside her, feeling her clench around you immediately.

Her back arches off the couch. "Both. Everything. I need everything."

You add a second finger, curling them to find that spot inside her that makes her see stars, while your mouth continues its relentless assault on her clit. The combination has her crying out, her hands scrambling for purchase on the couch, on your shoulders, anywhere she can reach. She's close again, you can tell from the way her walls are fluttering around your fingers, from the increasingly desperate sounds falling from her lips.

But you're not ready to let her come yet. You want to keep her here, suspended in this perfect moment of pleasure and need, for just a little longer. So you ease up again, your movements becoming gentler, more teasing. Maintaining just enough stimulation to keep her desperate but not enough to push her over the edge.

"Baby," she pleads. "Please. I'm so close."

"I know," you murmur against her skin. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my fingers so tight."

"Then let me come," she begs. "Please, I need it."

You decide it's time to stop teasing, to give her what she's been begging for. “Okay, then,” you say. Your fingers curl inside her with renewed purpose, finding that rough patch of nerves that makes her entire body tense, while your mouth latches onto her clit with focused intensity. No more pulling back, no more easing off. Just relentless, deliberate pleasure designed to take her apart completely.

"Oh fuck," Jimin gasps, her whole body going rigid. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, that's—"

Her words cut off into a strangled moan as you increase the pressure, your fingers stroking that spot inside her in firm, steady strokes while your tongue works her clit in tight circles. She's writhing on the couch now, her hips grinding against your face, chasing the orgasm that's building like a storm inside her. One of her hands flies to her breast, squeezing through the fabric of her dress, while the other stays tangled in your hair, holding you exactly where she needs you.

"Don't stop," she chants. "Don't stop, don't stop, I'm so close, I'm—"

You can feel it building, the way her walls are clenching rhythmically around your fingers, the way her thighs are shaking so hard she can barely hold them open. She's right there, balanced on that knife's edge between pleasure and release, and you're determined to push her over. You double down, your fingers pumping faster, curling harder against that spot, your mouth unrelenting on her swollen clit.

"Yes, yes, yes—" Her back arches completely off the couch, her whole body going taut as a bowstring. "I'm gonna… oh god, I'm gonna—"

That's when you adjust the angle of your fingers just slightly, pressing firmly against that special spot deep inside her, and everything changes. Her eyes fly open wide and then she's coming with a force that takes both of you by surprise. Clear fluid suddenly gushes from her, spraying across your hand, your chest, soaking the couch cushion beneath her as her entire body convulses.

"Oh my god!" she cries out high and desperate as the orgasm crashes through her. "Oh my god, oh my god—"

You keep your fingers moving, working her through it, feeling her walls clamping down so hard it's almost difficult to maintain the rhythm. More fluid pulses out with each stroke, her body completely out of her control as wave after wave of pleasure rocks through her. She's squirting, really squirting, and it's the hottest thing you've ever witnessed. Her hand is still squeezing her breast desperately, her other hand has abandoned your hair to clutch at the couch, and her face is twisted in an expression of pure ecstasy.

"That's it, baby," you encourage. "Let it all out. You're so fucking beautiful like this."

She's making these broken, sobbing sounds, her hips jerking with each pulse, and you can feel the wet heat of her release coating your hand, your forearm, dripping down onto the floor. It seems to go on forever, her body wringing every last drop of pleasure from the orgasm until finally, finally, she collapses back against the couch, trembling and gasping for air.

You carefully withdraw your fingers and she whimpers at the sensitivity, her whole body twitching. You climb up her body, capturing her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss, letting her taste herself on your lips and tongue. She kisses back weakly, still trying to catch her breath, her hands coming up to frame your face.

When you pull back, she's staring at you with dazed, unfocused eyes. Then awareness starts to creep back in, and her gaze drifts down to survey the damage. Her hand slowly moves to cover her mouth as the full scope of what just happened registers.

"Oh my god," she says, voice muffled behind her hand. "Oh my god, I just—" She looks at the couch cushion beneath her, which is absolutely soaked through, dark with wetness. Then at your shirt, which is splattered and damp. Then at the floor, where there are visible puddles. "I squirted everywhere. I squirted all over your cousin's couch!"

You fall down beside her, careful to avoid the wet spots, and you start laughing, eventually she does too, these breathless giggles that shake both your bodies.

"Holy shit," you manage between laughs. "That was so hot but also—"

"Your cousin's couch!" she repeats, dissolving into another fit of giggles. "How are we going to explain this?"

"I mean, we could just... not tell him?" you suggest, which makes her laugh even harder.

"There's a literal puddle on the floor!" She gestures wildly. "Multiple puddles! It looks like we had a water fight in here!"

You're both laughing so hard your sides hurt, the post-orgasm endorphins mixing with the ridiculousness of the situation. Jimin rolls toward you, burying her face in your shoulder, her body still shaking with laughter.

"I can't believe that just happened," she mumbles against your shirt. "I've never... I didn't know I could do that."

"I didn't know you could either," you admit, running your hand through her hair. "But fuck, that was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

She lifts her head to look at you, her face still flushed, hair a complete mess, and she's grinning despite her embarrassment. "Yeah?"

"Absolutely. Ten out of ten, would make you squirt all over my cousin's furniture again."

That sets her off into another round of giggles. "Stop! We need to figure out how to clean this before it stains!" But she makes no move to get up, just lies there against you, still catching her breath.

"Okay, okay," you say, trying to be serious but failing as another laugh escapes. "We need a plan. First, we find towels. Lots of towels. Then maybe some kind of upholstery cleaner? Do we have that?"

"I have no idea what's under the sink," Jimin says. "But we better find something because I am not explaining this to your cousin."

"'Hey, thanks for letting us stay, by the way your couch had a really good time,'" you say in a mock-serious tone, and she smacks your chest, laughing.

"You're terrible!"

"You love me.

"I do," she agrees, her laughter finally subsiding into soft giggles. "Even though you just ruined your cousin's couch with your magical fingers."

"Excuse me, we ruined the couch. Team effort."

She snorts, then pushes herself up to sitting, putting her panties back in place as surveying the damage with a more critical eye. "Okay. Towels first. Then we figure out the cleaning situation. Then maybe we just… keep this a secret until the end of our lives?"

"Sounds like a good plan," you agree, sitting up beside her.

She looks at you, at the wet patch on your shirt, at the absolute mess surrounding you both, and shakes her head with a smile. "This week just keeps getting weirder."

"Weird good or weird bad?"

"Weird perfect," she says, leaning in to kiss you softly. "Even with the property damage.”

—

The week unfolds like a carefully constructed dream, each day following a gentle rhythm that feels almost meditative in its simplicity. What you'd hoped would happen is actually working: the routine, the distraction, the deliberate choice to exist in this small bubble removed from the chaos of Seoul and the internet and the career crisis hanging over both your heads like a sword. Every morning starts the same way: you and Jimin stumbling out of bed, still tangled in each other, making your way to the backyard with the watering can. It's become a ritual, this quiet act of tending to your cousin's plants while the morning sun filters through the persimmon tree and birds chirp in the distance. Jimin always insists on doing most of the watering herself, saying it's therapeutic, and you're content to watch her move through the garden in whatever oversized t-shirt she stole from your suitcase the night before.

Breakfast is simple, usually whatever you can scrounge from the local market; fresh eggs, rice, kimchi that the elderly woman next door makes and keeps bringing over in endless supply. Then you're out the door, your grandfather's camera slung around your neck, ready to explore another corner of Gapyeong. You've been showing Jimin all the places you frequented as a child during those weekend visits: the bridge where you used to catch tadpoles, the hiking trail that leads to a stunning overlook of the valley, the tiny bookstore run by an old man who still remembers you and your fascination with comic books. Each location comes with stories, memories you'd almost forgotten until you're standing there with her, pointing out where you fell and scraped your knee or where your grandfather taught you to skip stones across the river.

And of course, there are the photographs. So many photographs. You went through all four rolls of film by Thursday afternoon, clicking away at everything: Jimin laughing at a street market, the way sunset hits the mountains, her profile as she examines pottery in a shop window, selfies where you're both grinning like idiots, candid shots of her just existing in the world. Yesterday you took everything to a specialized photography shop an hour away, the kind of place that still develops analog film with care. The owner looked through your order and whistled low. "That's a lot of memories," he said, and you agreed. He told you it would take two weeks and a half, maybe three depending on the backlog, and you left the shop feeling like you'd entrusted something precious to a stranger.

The surprising part is how little recognition Jimin has gotten while walking around. You'd expected it to be constant, overwhelming, but Gapyeong isn't Seoul. People here move slower, pay less attention to celebrity gossip. Sure, she's been spotted a few times (there was the group of girls that first day, and a couple other instances where fans approached shyly asking for photos), but everyone has been kind. Supportive, even. Telling her to stay strong, that they're on her side. It's allowed her to move through the world without the suffocating weight of a mask and hat obscuring her face, and you can see what that freedom does to her. The way her shoulders relax, the way she smiles more easily.

During this entire period, you've made a silent pact not to talk about the future. No discussions about what SM might decide, what the public thinks, whether aespa will survive this. Just the present. Just the two of you in this house, in this city, in these moments. The TV stays off except for when you watch movies at night (stupid comedies and action films that require zero emotional investment). No news. No updates. Just existing.

And it's working. Jimin looks lighter than you've seen her in weeks, maybe months. There's color in her cheeks, genuine laughter that reaches her eyes, a looseness to her movements that wasn't there before. She's sleeping better too, no longer waking up in the middle of the night with anxiety attacks or reaching for her phone with shaking hands. She's just... Jimin. Your Jimin. Not Karina the idol, not the center of a scandal, just a woman spending time with someone she loves.

Friday arrives and you barely notice until you're marking off another day on the mental calendar you've been keeping. A week ago you were sitting in Kim Youngmin's office being presented with impossible options. Now you're here, and it feels like a lifetime has passed.

But of course, you can't completely disconnect. You're not built that way, and neither is the situation. Someone needs to stay alert, to monitor what's happening in the world you've temporarily left behind. You need to know what Jimin’s and aespa’s reputations are like after SM’s official statement confirming your relationship. It’s been a few days since it was published; enough time to get a sense of the situation. So this afternoon, when Jimin mentions she's going next door to help Mrs. Kim with a cake recipe, you see an opportunity.

"I'll hold down the fort here," you tell her, kissing her forehead.

"Don't get into trouble," she warns playfully, already halfway out the door with an apron borrowed from the kitchen.

Once she's gone and the house settles into silence, you retrieve your MacBook from where it's been buried at the bottom of your suitcase all week. You make yourself a cup of coffee; strong and black, because you need the caffeine hit for what you're about to subject yourself to, and settle at the kitchen table. The laptop hums to life, the screen glowing bright in the afternoon dimness, and you take a fortifying sip before opening a browser.

The first thing you check is Twitter, because that's always where things explode first. Your timeline is a mess of Korean and English, fan accounts and news aggregators and opinion pieces. Things are still unstable, the discourse as vicious as you expected, but as you scroll deeper, you start to notice shifts. Cracks in the wall of hate.

Several idols have been speaking out. Not overtly (that would be career suicide in an industry built on unspoken rules), but discreetly. Taeyeon posted a cryptic Instagram story with lyrics about living authentically. Wheein liked a tweet defending Jimin's right to date. Moonbyul shared an article about the toxicity of parasocial relationships. Small acts of rebellion from people who understand the cost of this kind of scandal because they've navigated the same brutal system.

And then there's Yuna, who apparently missed the memo about subtlety entirely. Her Instagram story from fifteen hours ago is still up, a screenshot of an article about the controversy with her own text overlaid: "Let people live their lives. Love is love. 💕" It's been shared thousands of times, dissected and praised and criticized in equal measure. You have to laugh. Of course she'd be the least discreet.

There's also a text from her sitting in your messages, sent yesterday: "How are you guys holding up? Saw the news. This is bullshit. Rooting for you both 🙏"

It's funny. The girl who almost derailed your relationship through her flirting, who served as the catalyst for Jimin's jealousy and your first big fight, is now one of your most vocal supporters. She's really something else.

You shift your attention to the fan discourse, which is where the real battle is being waged. Korean netizens are predictably divided: a vocal segment screaming betrayal and demanding Jimin leave aespa, another contingent defending her right to happiness, most people somewhere in the muddled middle. But Western fans, the international audience that's become increasingly important to K-pop's global expansion, are overwhelmingly on Jimin's side. Tweets with tens of thousands of likes arguing that idols are human beings, that the industry's dating bans are archaic and cruel, that fans who can't support their favorites' happiness were never real fans to begin with.

"This is so fucked up. Karina deserves to be happy. Leave her alone." - 27K likes.

"If you're sending hate to Karina for dating, you're not a MY, you're just a toxic person." - 33K likes.

"The idol industry needs to change. This is 2025, not 1995. Let people LIVE." - 19K likes.

There's a coordinated hashtag campaign - #StandWithKarina - that's been trending globally for three days straight. Fan projects raising money for billboards in support. Video compilations of aespa's achievements set to emotional music with captions about unconditional love. It's not universal support, not even close, but it's something. Maybe enough of something to tip the scales.

You're so absorbed in scrolling, in cataloging every piece of evidence that might indicate this isn't a complete catastrophe, that you don't hear the door open until Jimin's voice breaks through your concentration.

"I'm back!" she announces, and you nearly jump out of your skin. "The cake turned out amazing, look."

She sets down a plate with several generous slices of what appears to be a honey castella cake, golden and fluffy and still slightly warm. Then her eyes land on the MacBook open in front of you.

"Why are you using the MacBook?" She asks, not in an accusatory way, just curiosity. "You weren't even supposed to bring it."

"I was just looking at a few things," you say, which is both true and a massive understatement. "Research. Mindless scrolling. You know how it is… chronically online and all that."

"Hmm." She eyes you skeptically, then her gaze drops to your mug. "Is that coffee?"

"Tea," you lie smoothly, taking a deliberate sip.

She leans closer, sniffing. "It smells like coffee."

You make a show of sniffing the cup yourself, your expression perfectly confused. "Really? I didn't even notice. Weird."

Jimin just laughs before looking at you like you're a kid eating candy before dinner. "I'm never going to be able to separate you from caffeine, am I? It's like a dependency. A medical condition."

"I can stop whenever I want," you protest.

"Sure you can, baby." She pulls out the chair next to you and sits down, stealing your mug for a sip and making a face when it's definitely coffee and not tea. "The week's almost over."

"Yeah," you say. "It is."

"What did you think?" She's looking at you now, studying your face. "Of all this. Was it boring? Was the countryside exile everything you hoped it would be?"

"Boring? No. It was..." You search for the right word. "Necessary. Good. Really good."

"It's been a while since I felt so..." She pauses, considering. "Normal. Like I was just a person doing person things. Walking around, taking pictures, making friends with the neighbor lady who keeps feeding us. No performances, no cameras, no expectations. Just existing." She's quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing patterns on the table. "If I lost my career, I think having a normal life wouldn't be so bad. I could handle it. I'd have you anyway."

"Don't be pessimistic," you say automatically.

"I'm being realistic,” she counters gently. "You know there's a chance. A big chance. We both know that."

You can't argue with that. The possibility has been sitting in the back of your mind all week, a shadow you've been deliberately ignoring. "SM would never give up aespa," you say, trying for confidence. "It's one of their most profitable groups at the moment. The numbers don't lie."

She raises an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "So you just see my group as a product to be marketed? Pure capitalism?"

"Not me. The company. I think what you and the girls do is incredible, you know that. But from SM's perspective, yeah, you're an investment. A successful one."

"Okay, so you said SM would never give up on aespa." She's still smiling but there's something more bitter underneath now. "But... would they give up on me? Specifically me?"

It's a delicate question, you find yourself unable to immediately answer because the truth is yes, it's absolutely a possibility. Companies have done it before: sacrificed one member to save a group, calculated that the PR hit of removing someone is less damaging than keeping them. They're trying to save her image now, but if the metrics don't improve, if the sponsor deals keep falling through, if the comeback underperforms...

"They'd be crazy to do that," you finally say. "It would be the biggest mistake that company ever made."

"But they could," she presses.

"They could," you admit. "But they won't. You're too valuable. Too talented. Too—"

Her phone starts ringing, cutting you off. She glances at the screen and her whole face lights up. "It's the girls!" She accepts the video call and immediately three faces fill the screen; Giselle, Winter, and Ningning all crammed together on what looks like a couch in someone's apartment.

"Jimin!" they chorus in unison.

"Hi!" Jimin stands up, moving away from the table toward the living room for better light. "Oh my god, I miss you guys so much!"

"We miss you too," Winter says. "How's the countryside? Are you surviving without Instagram?"

"Barely," Jimin laughs. "But actually it's been amazing. We've been taking all these photos - analog, with an actual film camera - and we're making this whole album of memories. And I made friends with the neighbor, this sweet old lady who's been teaching me to bake. And we went hiking and—"

She's off, words tumbling out in an excited rush as she gives them a virtual tour of the house, showing them the backyard garden and the traditional architecture and the view from the bedroom window. You can hear them oohing and ahhing, asking questions, sharing their own updates about what's been happening in Seoul. Someone's been teaching Ningning guitar. Giselle booked a solo magazine shoot. Winter's been stress-baking and has made approximately fifteen batches of cookies in the past week.

Their conversation becomes background noise as your attention drifts back to the MacBook screen, to the tabs still open showing Twitter and news articles and fan forums. The support is there, tangible and growing, but so is the hate. The calls for Jimin to leave the group, to apologize, to sacrifice her happiness for the sake of her career. The industry think pieces about whether female idols can survive dating scandals in 2025. The endless speculation about SM's next move.

You think about what Jimin said. About them potentially giving her up. And you realize with creeping dread that she's not wrong to worry. The company will do whatever protects their bottom line, their other investments, their reputation. If keeping Jimin becomes more costly than letting her go, the choice becomes obvious from their perspective.

Behind you, Jimin's laugh rings out as Ningning apparently makes a face at the camera. They're talking about the tour now, whether it'll still happen, and you can hear the hope and fear mingled in their voices. These four women who've become sisters through shared dreams and brutal training and the unforgiving spotlight of fame, trying to hold onto something that's threatening to slip through their fingers.

You close the MacBook quietly. Whatever happens, you'll face it together. That's the only certainty you have right now.

—

You push through the apartment door with your shoulder, arms full of packages and your work bag sliding down toward your elbow. It's been another long day, your third since returning from Gapyeong, and the strange new reality of being back in Seoul is still settling into your body. The only sound inside the apartment is the low hum of the TV playing some drama Jimin's only half-watching. She's sprawled on the couch in one of your hoodies and shorts, hair piled messily on top of her head, and the sight of her makes the tension in your shoulders ease just a little.

"Hey," you say, dropping your bag and crossing to the couch. You lean down and kiss her, soft and lingering, tasting the cherry chapstick she's been obsessively applying all week.

She smiles against your lips before pulling back. "How was work?"

"It was okay." You straighten up, rolling your neck to work out the kinks. "Still weird being the main target of office gossip. Like, I can feel people staring and whispering whenever I walk past. But honestly? It's good to be back. Feels productive, you know? Like I'm doing something instead of just waiting."

"That's good," she says, and you can hear the genuine happiness in her voice even as something else flickers across her face (something that looks uncomfortably like envy or longing).

The fact that you're still working with aespa at all is nothing short of miraculous. Your direct superior, Ms. Park, the woman who's managed the team for three years and has always been fair and professional, went to bat for you hard. Apparently she gave this impassioned speech to the executives about your competency, your work ethic, how you've never once let personal matters interfere with your professional responsibilities. She convinced them that firing you would be a mistake, that you're too valuable an asset to lose over something that had nothing to do with your actual job performance. So instead of termination, you got reassigned within the same sphere: handling individual activities for Ningning, Giselle, and Winter. Nothing related to aespa as a group for now, nothing that would put you in direct proximity to Jimin during work hours, but still within the ecosystem you know and understand.

You know Jimin is happy for you. She told you as much when you came home on that first day, throwing her arms around you and saying how proud she was, how relieved. But you can also see the frustration eating at her, the way her jaw tightens when she talks about being stuck in this limbo. It's been fifteen days since SM's official statement, and since then, nothing. Radio silence from the company. No updates about comeback schedules, no clarity on the international tour, no word on when or if aespa's activities will resume. They're gauging reactions, running analytics, monitoring social media sentiment across different markets to determine their next move. And Jimin is stuck on the sidelines, watching her career hang in the balance while everyone else moves forward.

"Oh!" You remember suddenly, adjusting the package tucked under your arm. "These came today."

Her eyes immediately lock onto the parcel, curiosity sparking. "What is it?"

"The photos. From Gapyeong. They finally finished developing them."

The transformation is instantaneous. Jimin sits bolt upright, the lethargy that's been clinging to her all week evaporating. "Are you serious? They're here? The actual photos?"

"All of them." You grin at her reaction. "They sent it to me by mail. I just picked it up as soon as I got to the building.”

You set the package on the coffee table and head to the bedroom, returning with the leather-bound photo album you've been keeping on the nightstand. When you come back, Jimin has already migrated from the couch to the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of the coffee table like a kid on Christmas morning. You join her, settling down beside her as you carefully begin unwrapping the package. The shop wrapped everything in brown paper and twine and you have to cut through several layers before you finally reach the photos themselves.

They're organized in four separate envelopes, one for each roll of film, and the weight of them in your hands feels significant. Substantial. These aren't digital files that can be deleted or lost to a corrupted hard drive. These are physical objects, tangible proof that those days happened.

"It's like opening Pokémon cards," Jimin says breathlessly, watching you slide the first envelope open.

You pause, considering. "That's not a very accurate comparison, babe.”

"You know what I mean! The anticipation. Not knowing what you're going to get."

"Except we do know. We took these photos."

"But we don't know how they turned out! If they're blurry or perfectly clear or if we accidentally captured something magical. That's the whole point of analog." She reaches for the envelope eagerly. "Come on, let me see."

You hand it over and she pulls out the stack of photos with reverent care. The first one makes her gasp: it's from that very first day, in the backyard, when you caught her watering the plants. The late afternoon light is golden and perfect, and she's laughing at something, her head thrown back, completely unguarded. The floral dress, the messy hair, the smudge of dirt on her cheek. It's beautiful in a way that has nothing to do with professional styling or perfect angles.

"Oh my god," she whispers. "Look at this. I look so... happy."

"You were happy."

She stares at the photo for another moment before carefully setting it aside and moving to the next one. This one is the selfie you took together on the bridge, except she turned at the last second to kiss your cheek. The framing is slightly off, your thumb visible in the corner, but your expression (surprised and delighted) makes it perfect. Imperfect in the best way.

"I love this one," she says, tracing the edge with her finger. "This is definitely going in the album."

You open the photo album to the first page, blank and waiting. Together, you place the photo carefully in the corner slot, and just like that, the project becomes real. No longer an abstract idea but something you're building together, memory by memory.

The next envelope yields photos from the market; Jimin examining pottery with intense concentration, you holding up a ridiculous hat that neither of you ended up buying, candid shots of elderly vendors and colorful produce displays. Each one brings back the moment in vivid detail, the smell of fresh fish and roasted chestnuts, the sound of vendors calling out their prices, the way Jimin's hand felt in yours as you navigated the crowded aisles.

"I remember this," Jimin says, holding up a photo of herself biting into a hotteok, her eyes closed in bliss, sugar dusted across her lips. "That was the best thing I'd eaten in months. I wanted to go back and buy ten more."

"Why didn't we?"

"Because you said I'd get a stomach ache."

"I was being responsible."

"You were being a killjoy." But she's smiling as she says it, already placing the photo in the album.

The third envelope contains photos from the hike you took to the overlook. The trail winding through the forest, Jimin posed dramatically on a large boulder, the sweeping vista of the valley below with mountains layered in the distance like watercolor washes. There's one of you that she insisted on taking, sitting on a fallen log with your elbows on your knees, looking off to the side at something she'd pointed out. You barely remember the moment, but in the photo you look contemplative, peaceful.

"You're very photogenic when you're not trying," Jimin observes, studying the image. "When you're just existing."

"Thanks, I think?"

"It's a compliment. You're real. Not posed or manufactured. Just you." She looks at you then. "That's what I fell in love with, you know. How real you are. How you never pretend to be anything other than exactly who you are."

You just lean over and kiss her temple, letting the gesture say what words can't.

The fourth envelope is the most eclectic; photos from various days all mixed together. Jimin in the bookstore, reading the back of a novel. You at the restaurant table, mid-laugh at something she said. The sunset over the river, all oranges and purples and pinks. Her feet next to yours on the wooden porch of the house. A stray cat you befriended one afternoon. Jimin asleep on the couch with a book on her chest. Each image is a fragment of those days, and together they form a complete picture of what you shared.

You work in silence for a while, sorting through the photos and deciding which ones go where. Some are immediate favorites that you both agree on instantly. Others require debate (Jimin wants to include a blurry photo of you making a ridiculous face, and you veto it until she promises to include an equally unflattering one of herself). Compromise is reached.

As you place a photo of the two of you at sunset, silhouetted against the sky with your arms around each other, Jimin's eyes start to glisten. She blinks rapidly, trying to hold it back, but a single tear escapes and trails down her cheek.

"Hey," you say softly, wiping it away with your thumb. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just... that week was so perfect. Looking at these, reliving it all, I just wish we could go back. Stay there forever."

"Me too."

"Everything was so simple there. No pressure, no expectations, no one judging us. Just you and me and all the time in the world." She picks up another photo, this one of her laughing at something, completely unaware of the camera. "I forgot what it felt like to just be Jimin. Not Karina, not an idol, just... me."

You set down the photo you were holding and turn to face her fully, taking both her hands in yours. "You're always just Jimin to me. Always have been, always will be. The rest is just what you do, not who you are."

She nods, squeezing your hands. "I know. And that's why this—" she gestures to the album, to the scattered photos, to the two of you sitting on the floor surrounded by memories, "—matters so much. You see me. The real me. And you're documenting it, preserving it. When I'm eighty years old and can barely remember my own name, I'll have this album. I'll look at these pictures and remember that once upon a time, when my whole world was falling apart, someone loved me enough to capture what it looked like when I was whole."

Now you're the one getting emotional, your throat tight with feelings too big for words. You pull her into your arms and she comes willingly, burying her face in your shoulder. Her body shakes slightly with suppressed sobs, and you just hold her, one hand stroking her back, the other cradling her head.

"We're going to be okay," you murmur into her hair. "Whatever happens with SM, with aespa, with all of it. We're going to be okay because we have this. These memories, these moments. They can't take that away from us."

She nods against your shoulder, her arms tightening around you. When she finally pulls back, her eyes are red but she's smiling. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get all emotional."

"Don't apologize. This is emotional. It's supposed to be."

She wipes her face and picks up the album, flipping through what you've completed so far. About a third of the pages are filled now, photos carefully arranged and placed. "We should add captions. Write little notes about what we were doing or what we were thinking."

"That's a good idea."

She finds a pen and starts writing in small, neat handwriting next to one of the photos. "Our first day. You made me laugh so hard I snorted." She looks up at you. "I did snort. You remember?"

"I remember. It was adorable."

"It was embarrassing."

"Adorably embarrassing."

You continue working, adding more photos and writing captions. Some are simple: dates and locations. Others are more elaborate like inside jokes and confessions and things you want your future selves to remember. Jimin's handwriting mingles with yours on the pages, creating something that belongs to both of you equally.

By the time you're done, it's past midnight and you've made significant progress. The album isn't complete yet (you still have dozens of photos to sort through and place) but it's taken shape. It exists. This tangible record of a week that saved you both in different ways.

Jimin yawns, stretching her arms above her head. "We should sleep."

"Probably."

Then the sudden trill of Jimin's phone cuts through the apartment, you both freeze, looking at each other with matching expressions of confusion. It's almost one in the morning - who the hell would be calling at this hour? Jimin reaches for her phone on the coffee table, and when she sees the caller ID, her eyebrows shoot up.

"It's from SM," she murmurs.

Late night calls from the company are never good news. At least, they haven't been lately. You watch as she accepts the call, bringing the phone to her ear.

"Hello? Yes, this is Jimin." Her face is carefully neutral, impossible to read. "Yes. Okay. I understand." A pause, and then something shifts in her expression; her eyes widen slightly, her lips part. "Really? Are you sure? When?" Another pause. "Okay. Yes, I'll be there. Thank you. Thank you so much."

She ends the call and just stares at the phone for a moment, like she's not entirely sure what just happened. You're practically vibrating with the need to know what that was about, but you force yourself to wait, to let her process whatever she just heard.

Finally, she looks up at you, and there are tears in her eyes. But this time, they're not sad tears.

"That was SM," she says. "A last-minute meeting just ended. aespa is resuming activities. The international tour is officially on."

For a second, you can't quite comprehend what she's saying. The words don't make sense, or maybe your brain is refusing to accept them because the alternative - the fear and uncertainty and worst-case scenarios - has been your default setting for so long that hope feels dangerous.

"Wait, what?"

"The tour!" She's suddenly on her feet, the photo album tumbling off her lap forgotten. "We're doing it! They said the Western markets responded positively enough that they're moving forward. The shows are confirmed. We're back!"

Then she's throwing herself into your arms with such force that you nearly topple backward. She's laughing and crying at the same time, her whole body shaking as she clings to you. You wrap your arms around her, holding her tight, and feel something that's been coiled tense in your chest for weeks finally start to unwind.

"You did it," you say into her hair. "You fucking did it."

"We did it," she corrects, pulling back to look at you. Her face is a mess: tears streaming, nose running, smile so wide it must hurt, and she's never looked more beautiful. "We survived. Together."

"Jesus. It really feels like it was all just a bad dream, doesn't it? Like none of it actually happened."

"Except it did happen," she says, wiping at her face. "But we made it through. And now—" Her phone starts buzzing repeatedly, notification after notification lighting up the screen. She grabs it and laughs. "It's the girls. Winter, Giselle, Ning. They got the news too. Look at this group chat."

She shows you the screen and it's complete chaos. All caps messages, strings of emojis, voice notes of screaming. The kind of unbridled joy that can only come from people who thought they'd lost everything and just got it back.

"They want me at SM tomorrow morning to discuss logistics and scheduling," Jimin says, scrolling through her messages. "Oh god, there's so much to do. Rehearsals, promotional schedules, wardrobe fittings—" She's spiraling into work mode, her brain already shifting gears, and you can see both the excitement and the exhaustion that comes with it.

"Hey," you say, touching her arm gently. "One thing at a time. Tonight, we celebrate. Tomorrow, you conquer the world."

She nods, taking a deep breath. "You're right. One thing at a time." She looks at the photo album on the floor, at the scattered pictures still waiting to be placed. "We still need to finish this."

"We will. We have time now."

—

The next day, you're on your coffee break (no pretense that it's tea this time) standing in the small break room on the third floor. The view overlooks a busy intersection, people and cars flowing past in their endless urban dance. You're thinking about last night, about the look on Jimin's face when she got the news, when a hand claps down hard on your shoulder, making you jump and nearly spill your coffee.

"Yo!" Jae grins at you, his energy way too high for 11 AM. "I heard aespa is back, man. Congratulations!"

"Yeah," you say, unable to suppress your own smile. "The nightmare is over. Or at least, part of it."

"Part of it? Dude, you're literally the luckiest guy in the world." He leans against the counter. "You're dating an idol. Not just any idol by the way; It's Karina! Like, she's objectively one of the most beautiful women on the planet. I mean, I'm more of a Yuna guy myself, but still. You've got serious bragging rights."

"I don't know about being the luckiest," you say dryly. "My life almost ended because of this relationship. The stress alone probably took years off my lifespan."

Jae waves this off. "You're being dramatic."

"I received death threats. Actual death threats. People telling me they'd find me and—"

"Okay, okay," he interrupts, wincing. "That's actually pretty fucked up. I'll give you that. But now it's all good, right? The company backed you, the tour is happening, everything worked out."

"It's far from 'all good,'" you correct him. "It's just better than it was. There are still people who hate my existence. Still sponsors who dropped aespa because of me. Still this cloud hanging over everything. And they still haven't found the bastard who actually caused all this. But yeah, it's better than before."

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're okay. Both of you. But I gotta say, I'm kind of sad you didn't tell me about the relationship. I thought we were friends. That you trusted me."

"I do trust you, man. I really do. It's just… it was all still so new and uncertain. We were figuring things out ourselves. And with the secrecy requirements from the company… I hope you understand. It wasn't personal."

"Yeah, I get it." He seems to accept this, his usual grin returning. "But seriously, what was the deal with Yuna? Because I could've sworn something was going on there. The way she was looking at you, I was convinced you two had something."

"In her head, we definitely did," you say, laughing despite yourself. "Reality didn't quite match up with her intentions."

"Jesus Christ." Jae runs a hand through his hair, looking genuinely frustrated. "I can't believe two idols were hitting on you. Two! You're like a fucking protagonist in some fanfic super well written. How does that even happen?"

"Can we please change the subject?" you plead. "Are you getting the new Pokémon game when it—"

Movement in your peripheral vision makes you stop mid-sentence. Through the break room's glass door, you can see Jimin in the hallway, and she's making eye contact with you. She gestures subtly with her head, a clear signal that she wants to talk. Your heart starts beating a little faster, the way it always does when you see her unexpectedly.

"Sorry, I gotta go," you say to Jae, already moving toward the door. "We'll talk later, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, go to your superstar girlfriend," he teases, but he's smiling.

You slip out into the hallway and walk toward where Jimin is standing near a quiet alcove by the emergency stairwell. She's dressed professionally (black slacks and a cream blouse, her hair pulled back in a ponytail) and she looks every bit the successful idol ready to reclaim her career. But when you get close, you can see the slight nervousness in her eyes, the way she's worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Hey," you say quietly, glancing around. "Is it safe for us to be seen together here? I thought the whole point was keeping distance at work."

She shrugs, and there's something defiant in the gesture. "We're not doing anything wrong. And besides, everyone already knows now. The statement went out, the world didn't end. Fuck it."

You can't help but smile at that. "Okay then. How did things go with the meeting?"

"Good. Really good, actually." She's practically bouncing on her toes. "The tour is definitely happening. All fourteen shows over thirty days. They're finalizing the setlist today and rehearsals start next week. And they said I can get back on social media. Carefully, they emphasized carefully. But I can post again. Interact with fans. Be visible."

"That's amazing."

"They also said we should continue to not draw attention to ourselves," she continues. "No public dates, no paparazzi photos, keep things low-key for a while until everything fully settles."

"That's on you," you joke. "I've already exceeded my attention quota for my entire life. I'm good staying invisible."

She laughs, but then her expression turns more serious. "We haven't really talked about the tour yet. About what it means."

You lean against the wall, crossing your arms. "I've been avoiding thinking about it, honestly. But there's not much to discuss, is there? It's your job. It's what you've been working toward. I'll be here, cheering you on from Seoul."

"I wish you could come with us," she says quietly. "I know that's selfish, but I do. Having you there would make everything easier."

"It'll be better this way," you assure her, even though the thought of being apart for a month makes you actively sad. "You need to focus on the performances, on reconnecting with your fans, on being Karina. You don't need me there being a distraction or causing problems."

"You're never a problem."

"Fourteen shows in thirty days," you continue, "that's brutal. Promise me you'll take care of yourself? Eat properly, sleep when you can, don't push yourself too hard."

"I'll be fine," she says with more confidence than the situation probably warrants. "I've got redoubled energy now that the worst is over. I can handle anything."

From somewhere down the hall, a voice calls out. "Jimin! They need you in Studio B!"

It's one of the managers, a woman in her forties with a tablet and the perpetually harried expression of someone managing too many moving pieces.

"Coming!" Jimin calls back. She turns to you, and for a moment you see her hand twitch like she's about to reach for you, to pull you in for a kiss. But you're in a public hallway, in the company building, surrounded by potential witnesses and cameras. So instead she just steps a tiny bit closer, close enough that you can smell her perfume, and whispers low enough that only you can hear.

"I love you."

Three words, soft as a breath, yet they hit you like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard them. You want to kiss her senseless right here in this corporate hallway, consequences be damned, but you settle for holding her gaze and letting her see everything you feel reflected in your eyes.

"I love you too, babe,” you say, just for her to hear. “Later. At the apartment."

"Special dinner?" she asks, a smile tugging at her lips.

"The most special. I'll even attempt cooking something that isn't instant ramen."

"Now I'm really excited." She's backing away now, still looking at you, and there's this lightness to her that hasn't been there in weeks. "See you tonight."

"See you tonight."

You watch her walk away, watch her rejoin the manager and disappear into the maze of hallways and studios that make up SM Entertainment. And you think about how close you came to losing this; losing her, losing the future you're building together, losing everything that matters. The universe gave you a second chance, somehow, against all odds.

You're not going to waste it.

—

You finish plating the spaghetti at the exact right moment, al dente pasta twirled into perfect nests, homemade marinara sauce with fresh basil on top, parmesan shaved over everything. The kitchen smells incredible, garlic and tomato and herbs filling the small apartment. You step back to admire your work, feeling stupidly proud of yourself for pulling off something more ambitious than your usual repertoire of instant ramen and fried rice.

It reminds you of that first real date with Jimin, back when everything was new and terrifying and exciting. She'd invited you to her apartment and cooked for you and you'd felt so cared for, so seen. Now it's your turn to return that gesture, to show her through actions what words sometimes fail to capture.

The doorbell rings. You wipe your hands on a kitchen towel and head to the door, and when you open it, wow. Jimin stands there looking absolutely devastating in a black wrap dress that hugs every curve, the neckline just low enough to be suggestive without being obvious. The fabric is some kind of silky material that catches the hallway light. Her hair is down in soft waves, makeup subtle but expertly done, and she's wearing strappy heels that make her legs. Sexy but discreet.

"Hi," she says, and her smile is warm and immediate.

You pull her in for a kiss, one hand on her waist, feeling the silk slide under your palm. She tastes like cherry lip gloss and possibility. "Hi yourself. You look incredible."

"Thank you." She steps inside, her heels clicking on the hardwood, and immediately her nose lifts as she takes in the smell of dinner. "Oh my god, what is that? It smells amazing."

"Spaghetti from scratch," you say proudly, leading her toward the kitchen. "Well, mostly from scratch. I didn't make the pasta itself, but the sauce is all me. And there's garlic bread and salad and—"

"You really went all out," she says, looking genuinely touched as she surveys the table you set, complete with candles and actual cloth napkins you had to go buy specifically for this occasion.

"You deserve it." You move to the counter where you've set up a modest bar - wine, beer, some juice. "What would you like to drink? I've got red wine, white wine, that beer you like, or—"

You don't get to finish the sentence because suddenly there are hands wrapping around your waist from behind, Jimin's body pressing against your back. Her lips find your neck, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses that make your breath catch for a moment.

"I think we can skip the drinks for now," she murmurs against your skin, her breath warm.

You turn in her arms, finding her eyes shining with intent, and capture her mouth in a deeper kiss. "Someone seems hungry," you manage between kisses.

"Mmm, yes." Her hands are already roaming, sliding under your shirt to find bare skin. "But hungry for something else."

Her palm presses against the front of your jeans, feeling you already half-hard just from that look in her eyes. You groan into her mouth, your hips involuntarily pushing forward into her touch.

"What about dinner?" you ask, even though you already know the answer, already know you'd abandon a five-course meal if she asked. "I worked really hard on it."

"Dinner can wait," she says firmly, taking your hand and pulling you toward the bedroom. "I have other priorities right now."

You let her lead you, pausing only to blow out the candles so the apartment doesn't burn down while you're otherwise occupied. The bedroom is dim, just the ambient light from the city filtering through the curtains, and it paints everything in shades of blue and gold. You're both kissing again, hands grabbing and pulling, that desperate energy of two people who've been apart all day and need to reconnect in the most fundamental way.

When you finally separate to breathe, you sit on the edge of the bed, taking off your shoes and you can't help but laugh. "If I knew we were going to take our clothes off this fast, I wouldn't have bothered dressing up so much."

Jimin stands in front of you, and the look she gives you is pure heat. "I'm glad you did. Makes it more fun to undress you." She reaches for the tie of her wrap dress, but pauses. "Though I have to admit, I'm kind of sorry to take this off. It cost a fortune."

"It's beautiful," you agree, already working on your belt. "You're beautiful."

She holds your gaze as her hands move to the straps at her shoulders. Then, in one smooth motion, she pulls both straps down simultaneously. The dress slides down her body like water, pooling at her feet in a puddle of black silk, and underneath—

"Fuck," you breathe.

She's wearing red lingerie, and not just any lingerie. A matching set in deep crimson lace that looks like it was designed specifically to destroy you. The bra pushes her breasts up and the panties are this barely-there scrap of lace that somehow manages to be more provocative than complete nudity. The color against her skin is obscene, beautiful, absolutely perfect.

"Changed your mind about dinner?"

"Changed my mind about a lot of things." You're shedding your pants now, desperate to have less fabric between you. "Mainly about how much I need you right now."

She climbs onto the bed, straddling your lap in just that red lace, and the weight of her is perfect. Her hands frame your face as she kisses you deeply, thoroughly, her hips already starting to move in slow rolls against you. You can feel the heat of her even through the remaining layers of clothing, and it's driving you insane.

The feeling of being in your own bed again, in your own space, is almost overwhelming. At your cousin's house, everything had this edge of wrongness to it; the unfamiliar mattress, the knowledge that you were in someone else's home, and oh god, that incident with the couch that you've been trying not to think about. But here, this is your territory. Your bed, your rules, and Jimin spread out above you like the best kind of gift.

Your hands find her ass, squeezing the firm flesh through the lace, and she makes this breathy sound that goes straight to your cock. You pull her closer and bury your face between her breasts, just breathing her in - her perfume mixed with her natural scent, the warmth of her skin, the rapid beat of her heart. You kiss the swell of her cleavage, the spot where the lace meets flesh, tracing patterns with your tongue that make her gasp and arch into you.

"Bed," she manages. "Lie back."

You do as instructed, letting her push you down until your back hits the mattress. She's above you, straddling your hips, her hair falling around both your faces as she leans down to kiss you. It's slower now, more deliberate, like she wants to savor every second. Your hands roam her body, mapping territory you're becoming intimately familiar with; the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine, the way her muscles shift under your palms.

Then she's moving, repositioning herself, and you realize what she's doing. She turns around so her back is facing you, still straddling but now giving you the most incredible view. Her ass in those red panties, the elegant line of her spine, the way her hair falls over one shoulder.

"Do you like the view?" she asks, looking back at you over her shoulder with a wicked smile.

You run your hands over her ass, squeezing appreciatively. "I really, really do."

"Good." She's shifting again, moving lower, her hands sliding up your thighs. "Because I really want to feel your mouth on my pussy again. Like last time."

The memory of that night in Gapyeong floods back, her taste, her sounds, the way she came apart under your tongue. Your cock twitches with interest.

"But this time," she continues, her fingers finding the waistband of your boxer briefs, "you won't be left out." She starts pulling them down slowly, teasingly, and when your cock springs free, already hard and leaking, she makes this satisfied hum. "I think that's only fair, don't you?"

"Very fair," you agree.

You hook your fingers into her panties and pull them to the side, revealing her pussy glistening in the low light of your bedroom. She's already wet, arousal coating her inner thighs. The perfect 69 position, both of you about to pleasure each other simultaneously, and you can't wait another second. You pull her hips back toward your face as she leans forward to take you in her mouth, your tongue makes first contact with her pussy and she gasps around your cock. She tastes exactly how you remember and you can't help the groan that escapes as you drag your tongue through her folds slowly, deliberately, savoring every inch. Her hips roll back against your face, seeking more pressure, more friction, and you're happy to give it to her.

At the same time, her mouth envelops you, hot and wet and perfect. She starts with just the tip, her tongue swirling around the head and catching the precum that's already leaking, and the sensation makes your thighs tense. She hums in appreciation at the taste, and then she's taking you deeper, inch by inch, until you can feel yourself hitting the back of her throat.

"Fuck, Jimin," you breathe against her pussy, pausing your own ministrations for just a second to process how good her mouth feels. "That's so good."

She pulls off, her hand wrapping around your shaft to stroke what her mouth isn't covering. "Then don't stop what you're doing," she says, already breathy. "I want to feel your tongue on my clit."

You obey immediately, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it with the tip of your tongue. Her reaction is instantaneous: her back arches, pushing her pussy harder against your face, and she lets out this desperate little whimper that makes you want to wreck her completely. You establish a rhythm, alternating between broad flat strokes through her folds and focused attention on her clit, listening to the sounds she makes to guide you to what feels best.

She returns her attention to your cock with renewed determination, and suddenly this feels less like mutual pleasure and more like a competition. Who can make the other lose control first. The realization seems to hit both of you at the same time because she increases her pace, taking you deeper, adding suction that makes your vision blur, while you double down on your efforts, sealing your lips around her clit and sucking.

"Oh god," she moans, her hips grinding against your face now. "That's… fuck, that's not fair."

You pull back just enough to speak, your breath hot against her wet flesh. "You started it. Taking me so deep like that."

"Because I want you to come for me," she says, pumping your cock with her hand while her tongue traces the vein running along the underside. "I want to taste it. Want to swallow every drop."

Her words send heat flooding through you, your cock pulsing in her grip. "Keep talking like that and you're going to get what you want really fast."

"Good." She takes you back in her mouth, and this time she's relentless, bobbing her head in a steady rhythm while her hand works what she can't fit. Her other hand cups your balls, rolling them gently.

You try to maintain your focus on her pleasure, your tongue working her clit in tight circles while you slide two fingers inside her, curling them to find that spot that makes her shake. She's so wet that they slip in easily, her walls clenching around you immediately.

"You're so wet," you murmur against her, punctuating your words with a long lick from her entrance to her clit. "Dripping all over my face. You love having my mouth on you, don't you?"

"Yes," she gasps, her movements on your cock faltering slightly as pleasure overtakes her concentration. "Love it so much. Your tongue feels amazing."

"And your mouth," you continue as she takes you particularly deep, "your mouth is fucking perfect. So hot and tight. I could come just from this."

"Then do it," she challenges, pulling off to look back at you over her shoulder. Her lips are swollen and slick. "Come for me. I want it."

She dives back down, and this time there's no teasing, no building. She's sucking you hard and fast, her hand twisting on every upstroke, and you know you're not going to last much longer. You increase your own pace to match, your tongue flicking rapidly over her clit while your fingers pump in and out of her.

"Fuck, Jimin, I'm close," you warn, your thighs trembling with the effort of holding back. "If you keep doing that—"

She just hums in acknowledgment and somehow takes you even deeper, and that's it. That's all it takes. Your orgasm hits you hard, pleasure exploding from your core and radiating outward. You groan against her pussy, your hips bucking up involuntarily as you come, spilling into her mouth in hot pulses. She doesn't pull away, doesn't hesitate, she takes everything you give her, swallowing around you, her throat working, and the sensation prolongs your orgasm until you're shaking beneath her.

Even as you're coming down, aftershocks still rolling through you, you don't stop working her pussy. If anything, you become more focused, determined to push her over that edge right behind you. Your fingers curl harder against her g-spot while your tongue assaults her clit with renewed purpose, and within seconds you feel her start to tense.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," she chants, her thighs trembling on either side of your head. "Don't stop, please don't stop, I'm gonna—"

She doesn't finish the sentence because she's coming, her whole body going rigid as the orgasm crashes through her. You feel her pussy clench rhythmically around your fingers, more wetness flooding your mouth as you lap at her through it, extending her pleasure for as long as possible. She's making these broken, desperate sounds above you, her hand still loosely holding your softening cock.

Finally, she collapses forward, boneless and panting, and you have to gently guide her off you so neither of you suffocates. She ends up sprawled beside you on the bed, both of you catching your breath, skin flushed and sweaty.

"Holy shit," she manages after a minute, turning her head to look at you. "That was—"

"Intense," you finish for her.

"I was going to say incredible, but intense works too." She shifts closer, draping herself across your chest. "Though for the record, I totally made you come first."

"You did," you concede. "But it was close."

"Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades." She's grinning now, clearly pleased with herself. "I win."

"What do you win?"

"The satisfaction of knowing I can reduce you to a whimpering mess with just my mouth."

You laugh, wrapping an arm around her. "Fair enough. Though in my defense, you were literally swallowing my cock while simultaneously looking like every wet dream I've ever had in that lingerie. The odds were stacked against me."

"Excuses, excuses." But she's still smiling, nuzzling into your neck. "For what it's worth, you almost had me. That thing you do with your fingers while your tongue—"

You capture her mouth in a deep kiss, silencing whatever she was about to say. When you pull back, your eyes lock with hers. "It's not over yet," you murmur against her lips.

She makes a questioning sound, but you're already moving, your hands sliding up her back to find the clasp of her bra. Your fingers work the hooks with more confidence than you probably should have, and within seconds the red lace falls away, revealing her breasts, full and pale, her nipples already hard from arousal and the cool air of the bedroom. You've seen them before, touched them before, but every time feels like the first time, this sense of awe that she's here with you, that this is real.

"I'll never get tired of telling you how beautiful you are," you whisper, your hands coming up to cup the weight of her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples and making her gasp.

"Then don't stop," she says breathlessly, arching into your touch.

You kiss her again, your tongue sliding against hers while your hands continue their exploration. Her skin is so soft, warm and responsive to every touch, and you can feel her heart racing under your palms. She makes these small sounds of pleasure into your mouth, little gasps and sighs that drive you crazy, that make you want to catalog every single thing that brings her pleasure.

After a moment, she breaks the kiss and gently pushes at your shoulder. "Move to the edge of the bed," she instructs.

You obey without question, shifting until you're sitting on the edge of the mattress, feet on the floor. Jimin stands before you, and the sight is something out of a fantasy: her breasts bare and flushed, the red panties still pushed to the side from earlier, revealing the slick pink of her pussy. Her hair is messy from your hands, her lips swollen from kissing, and she looks thoroughly debauched in the best possible way.

She turns around slowly, deliberately, giving you her back. The elegant line of her spine, the curve of her ass in those panties, the way her hair falls between her shoulder blades, every detail is designed to torment you. She looks over her shoulder with a smile that's equal parts sweet and wicked.

"Just relax," she says, reaching between her legs to wrap her hand around your cock. You're already starting to harden again despite having just come, because apparently your body has decided that Jimin touching you overrides any normal refractory period.

She strokes you a few times, her grip firm and confident, and you can feel yourself getting harder with each pass of her hand. When she's satisfied with your state, she positions herself above you, the head of your cock pressing against her entrance. The heat of her is incredible even through that first point of contact, and you have to grip the edge of the mattress to keep from just pulling her down onto you.

"Ready?" she asks.

"Always," you manage.

She sinks down slowly, so slowly, taking you inch by inch into her tight heat. Unprotected sex has become familiar to you two lately, but the feeling of sliding into Jimin raw still hits like the very first time - always otherworldly. You both groan at the sensation, her walls stretching to accommodate you, the way she's still so wet and sensitive from her earlier orgasm, the perfect friction as she sheathes you completely. When she's fully seated in your lap, your cock buried to the hilt inside her, she pauses, just breathing, adjusting to the fullness.

"Fuck," she breathes. "You feel so good like this."

"So do you," you say, your hands coming up to rest on her hips, feeling the way her muscles shift as she starts to move.

She begins with small movements, just rolling her hips in slow circles, getting used to the angle. Then she lifts up slightly and drops back down. She establishes a rhythm, bouncing on your cock from behind, and the view is absolutely perfect; her ass moving up and down, the way you disappear into her pussy with each downward stroke, the way her body moves with this fluid grace.

Your hands slide from her hips up to her breasts, cupping them from behind. They fill your palms perfectly, soft and heavy, and you squeeze gently, feeling her nipples harden further against your skin. She leans back slightly, pressing her back against your chest, and the new angle makes you slide even deeper inside her.

"Yes," she sighs, her head falling back onto your shoulder. "Just like that."

You take advantage of her position to trail kisses along her shoulder, her neck, the sensitive spot behind her ear that makes her shiver. Your lips map the landscape of her skin, tasting salt and perfume and Jimin, while your hands continue to play with her breasts. You roll her nipples between your fingers, alternating between gentle touches and firmer pinches, learning what makes her breath hitch and her pussy clench around you.

"Your hands," she gasps, still riding you with those slow, deliberate movements. "God, your hands feel so good."

"Yeah?" You kiss the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, letting your teeth graze the skin. "Tell me what you like."

"Everything," she admits breathlessly. "The way you touch me, like you can't get enough. Like you want to memorize every inch of me."

"I do want that," you confess against her skin. "Want to know your body better than my own."

She makes this broken sound, a moan and a laugh at the same time, and her movements become slightly less controlled. You can feel her thighs trembling with the effort of maintaining the rhythm, can feel the way her pussy is fluttering around your cock in a way that suggests she's building toward something again already.

Your left hand stays on her breast, continuing its ministrations, while your right slides down her stomach, tracing the defined muscles there. She works so hard for this body, hours of dance practice and training, and you want to worship every result of that dedication. Your fingers trail lower until you find her clit.

"Oh fuck," she gasps when you make contact, her hips stuttering in their rhythm.

"Keep moving," you encourage, your fingers starting to circle that sensitive bud in time with her bouncing. "Don't stop. You look so beautiful like this, taking my cock, using me for your pleasure."

"It's not just for me," she manages. "You're you're hitting so deep like this."

"Good." You kiss her shoulder again, then her neck, working your way up to that spot just below her ear. "I want you to feel me everywhere. Want you to remember this tomorrow when you're in those meetings, when you're rehearsing. Want you thinking about how good this feels."

She moans at your words, her movements becoming more erratic, more desperate. She's no longer bouncing in that controlled rhythm but grinding down onto you, seeking friction against her clit from your hand while keeping you deep inside her. Her back is pressed fully against your chest now, her head turned to the side so you can kiss the corner of her jaw, her neck, anywhere you can reach.

"You're so tight," you murmur against her skin. "So wet. Can you feel how hard you make me? How much I want you?"

"Yes," she breathes. "I can feel everything."

Your hand on her breast squeezes a little harder, and your fingers on her clit increase their pressure slightly, and she makes this sound: high and desperate and absolutely beautiful. Her pussy clenches around you rhythmically, and you know she's getting close again, her body still sensitive from the first orgasm and building rapidly toward another.

But you don't want to rush this. Don't want it to end too quickly. So you deliberately slow your movements, your fingers easing off her clit, and she makes a sound of frustration.

"Don't stop," she pleads.

"Not stopping," you assure her. "Just slowing down. Want to make this last."

She takes a shuddering breath and nods, understanding. Her own movements slow to match yours, these long, languid rolls of her hips that keep you deep inside her while providing this steady, building pleasure that's intense without being overwhelming. It's intimate like this, her back pressed to your chest, your hands on her body, both of you moving together in this perfect synchronization.

"I love you," she says suddenly, quietly.

"I love you too," you respond, kissing her shoulder. "So much."

She turns her head, seeking your mouth, and you meet her in an awkward but passionate kiss, your neck craning to reach her. When you break apart, she's smiling.

"This is perfect," she says. "Right here, right now. Everything is perfect."

And she's right. It is.

The slow, languid rhythm continues for a few more moments, both of you savoring the intimacy and connection. But then something shifts in the air between you. Jimin's breathing becomes more ragged, her movements slightly more urgent, and you can feel the tension building in her body again.

"I need more," she says. "Please."

"Tell me what you need," you murmur against her shoulder, even though you already know.

"Faster. Harder. I need you to make me come."

Your fingers on her clit begin moving faster, applying more pressure, while your hand on her breast squeezes harder. Jimin responds immediately, her hips lifting and dropping with increased urgency, bouncing on your cock with real purpose now.

"Yes," she gasps, her back arching. "Just like that. Don't stop."

You have no intention of stopping. Your fingers work her clit in tight, rapid circles, matching the pace of her bouncing, and you can feel how swollen and sensitive she is under your touch. Every pass makes her pussy clench around your cock, makes her movements stutter slightly before she regains her rhythm. She's chasing her orgasm now with single-minded determination, using your body to get herself there.

"You're so close, aren't you?" you say against her ear. "I can feel it. Feel how tight you're getting around me."

"So close," she confirms breathlessly. "Keep touching me, don't stop touching me."

Your left hand releases her breast and slides up to her throat, not squeezing, just resting there possessively while your right hand continues its relentless assault on her clit. Her movements are becoming erratic now, her thighs trembling with exertion, but she doesn't slow down. Actually, she speeds up, bouncing harder, taking you deeper. You can feel her wet pussy squeezing tighter, the sight and sound and feel of her falling apart overwhelming every sense.

"Come for me," you encourage, your fingers pressing harder against her clit. "Want to feel you come on my cock. Want to feel you squeeze me."

"I'm—fuck, I'm—" She can't finish the sentence because she's coming, her entire body going rigid in your arms as the orgasm crashes through her. Her pussy clamps down on you like a vice, rhythmic pulses that milk your cock, and she's making these high, desperate sounds that go straight to your dick. You keep your fingers moving through it, drawing out her pleasure until she's shaking and pushing your hand away because it's too much, too sensitive.

She collapses back against you, boneless and gasping, and you wrap both arms around her waist to keep her upright. Your cock is still hard inside her, still buried deep, and even though she just came, you can feel her pussy still fluttering with aftershocks. You press kisses to her shoulder, her neck, her cheek, wherever you can reach, murmuring praise against her skin.

"That was incredible," you tell her. "You're incredible."

She makes a sound that might be agreement or just acknowledgment, still too wrung out to form words. After a moment, she lifts herself off you with a wince, and you slip out of her with a wet sound that makes you both groan for different reasons. She stands on shaky legs, turning to face you.

"Bed," she manages. "Need to lie down."

You stand with her, guiding her the few steps to the center of the mattress. She lies down on her side facing away from you, and you immediately understand what she wants. You lie down behind her, your body curving to fit against hers, your chest pressed to her back. This position is intimate in a different way, quieter, and you take a moment to just breathe with her, your hand stroking her hip. "You okay?" you ask softly.

"More than okay," she says. "But I'm not done with you yet."

She reaches back between your bodies and wraps her hand around your cock, still hard and slick with her arousal. She guides you to her entrance, lifting her top leg slightly to give you better access, and you slide inside her easily. The angle is different like this, tighter somehow.

"Fuck, Jimin," you breathe against her neck.

"I know," she agrees. "Feels so good like this."

You start moving slowly, shallow thrusts that keep you deep inside her while providing this constant, building friction. Your hand slides from her hip to her stomach, holding her against you, while your other arm is tucked under her neck, wrapped around her shoulders. She's completely enveloped in you like this, surrounded, and from the way her breathing is already starting to quicken, she loves it.

"This okay?" you ask, your lips brushing her ear.

"Perfect," she sighs, her hand covering yours on her stomach. "Everything about this is perfect.”

You establish a rhythm that's deliberate and deep, each thrust slow and measured as you pull almost completely out before sliding back in to the hilt. The position lets you reach places inside her that make her gasp every time you bottom out, your hips flush against her ass. There's something incredibly intimate about this: the way you're wrapped around her, the way she's completely open and vulnerable to you, the way every breath she takes you can feel against your chest.

"God, you're so deep like this," Jimin moans, her hand gripping yours tighter on her stomach. "I can feel every inch of you."

"Yeah?" You kiss the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, your lips trailing over the marks you left earlier. "You like feeling me this deep?"

"Love it," she breathes, her hips pushing back to meet your thrusts. "Love how full you make me feel."

You maintain that slow, deep pace, focusing on the sensation of her tight heat enveloping you, the way her walls grip your cock on every stroke. Your hand on her stomach can feel the slight bulge when you thrust in particularly deep, and the knowledge that she can feel you that intensely makes your head spin. She's so wet that every movement creates these obscene sounds, the slide of your cock through her slick pussy loud in the quiet bedroom.

"You feel amazing," you murmur against her ear. "So tight and wet for me. Could stay inside you forever."

Jimin moans sweetly and her free hand reaches back to tangle in your hair. The position pulls her body even tighter against yours, and you adjust your angle slightly, hitting a spot inside her that makes her cry out.

"There," she gasps. "Right there, please."

You file that information away, making sure to hit that same spot with every thrust. It requires a slight shift of your hips, a different angle, but the sounds she makes are worth it. Her breathing becomes more ragged, these soft moans escaping with every exhale that drive you crazy. You can feel her heart racing where your chest presses against her back, can feel the way her whole body responds to what you're doing to her.

"You're shaking," you observe, your hand sliding from her stomach up to cup her breast. Her nipple is hard against your palm, and you roll it between your fingers, adding another layer of sensation. "Sensitive baby?"

"Very," she admits. "Everything feels so intense. You're everywhere - inside me, around me, touching me. It's overwhelming."

"In a good way?"

"In the best way." She turns her head slightly, seeking your mouth, and you meet her in an awkward kiss over her shoulder. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."

You obey, your thrusts remain deep and steady, each one deliberate, letting her feel the full length of you as you withdraw and then fill her completely again. The hand on her breast continues to play with her nipple while your other arm holds her close, your fingers splayed across her ribcage. You can feel every breath she takes, every tremor that runs through her body, every response to your touch.

"Talk to me," you encourage between thrusts. "Tell me how it feels."

"It feels..." She pauses, moaning as you hit that spot again. "It feels like you're claiming me. Like you're marking me inside and out. Like my body was made for this, made for you."

Her words send heat rushing through you, your cock pulsing inside her. "You are made for me," you agree. "This perfect pussy, these beautiful tits, this gorgeous body… all mine."

"All yours," she confirms breathlessly. "Only yours. Nobody else gets to have me like this, gets to see me like this."

The possessiveness in her words is undeniable, matches your own, and it does something to you. You increase the force of your thrusts slightly, still maintaining that deep penetration but adding more power behind each movement. The sound of your bodies meeting becomes louder, your hips slapping against her ass with each thrust, and Jimin's moans increase in volume to match.

"Yes," she encourages, her nails digging into your forearm. "Just like that. Harder."

You oblige, your hips snapping forward with more force, driving into her with purpose. The position gives you incredible leverage, and you use it, each thrust pushing her forward slightly before your arm around her waist pulls her back onto you. She’s taking you to the hilt, her pussy stretched tight around your cock, slick cream gathering where you meet, making every thrust glide deeper, wetter, easier.

"You take me so well," you praise. "Like your body knows exactly what to do with my cock."

"Because it does," she gasps. "We fit perfectly. You fill me perfectly. Everything about this is perfect."

Your hand leaves her breast and trails down her stomach, over her hip, to her ass. You squeeze the firm flesh, spreading her slightly to watch your cock disappear into her pussy with each thrust. The sight is mesmerizing, the way she stretches around you, the way her arousal coats your shaft, the way her body accepts you so completely.

"I love watching myself fuck you," you admit. "Love seeing how well you take me, how wet you get for me."

She whimpers at your words, her pussy clenching around you in response. "Keep talking. Love hearing you like this, hearing you lose control."

"Not losing control yet," you say, though your breathing is definitely more labored now. "Still focused on making you feel good. Still focused on every sound you make, every way your body responds to me."

You shift slightly, adjusting the angle again, and this time when you thrust in, Jimin nearly screams. Her whole body jerks, her back arching, and you know you've found something particularly sensitive.

"Oh my god," she pants. "What was that? How did you—"

"This?" You repeat the motion, hitting that same spot, and she makes that sound again. "Like this?"

"Yes, fuck, yes." Her hand scrambles behind her, trying to grab your hip, your ass, anything to pull you closer, deeper. "Don't stop doing that. Please don't stop."

You maintain that exact angle, that exact depth, each thrust calculated to hit that spot that makes her lose her mind. Your pace is still relatively controlled, still focused on depth over speed, but the power behind each movement increases. You can feel sweat starting to bead on your skin, can feel the exertion in your muscles, but you don't care. All that matters is the woman in your arms, the sounds she's making, the way her body is responding to yours.

"You're incredible like this," you tell her, your hand moving from her ass back to her breast. "So responsive, so perfect. Could fuck you like this for hours and never get tired of it."

"I wouldn't complain," she manages. "Could let you fuck me forever. Would let you do anything to me."

"I'll take care of you," you promise, your lips tracing the shell of her ear. "Always. In bed and out of it. You're mine to protect, mine to pleasure, mine to love."

You continue the deep, steady thrusts, your bodies moving together in perfect synchronization. Every time you push in, she pushes back, meeting you halfway. Every time you withdraw, she makes this small sound of protest, like even that brief separation is too much. It's intoxicating, this dance you're doing, this perfect rhythm you've found together.

"More," Jimin pleads, though you're not sure what more she wants. "I need more of you."

"You have all of me," you assure her, but you understand what she means. You increase your pace slightly, the thrusts coming faster now while maintaining that same depth. Your hand on her breast squeezes harder, your teeth find her shoulder and bite down gently, adding more sensations, more stimulation, more everything. She cries out, her body trembling in your arms, and you can feel how close she is again despite having already come twice tonight. You decide it's time to give her what she needs. "Ready?" you ask.

"God, yes," she breathes. "Please. I need to come so badly."

You shift your angle to find that spot again (the one that made her nearly scream earlier) and when you thrust in and hit it perfectly, her entire body goes rigid. "There," she gasps. "Right there, don't stop, please don't stop!"

You focus all your attention on hitting that exact spot with every thrust, increasing your pace gradually but maintaining that precision. Your hand slides from her breast down between her legs, fingers finding her clit and beginning to rub in tight circles. The dual stimulation makes her cry out, her hand flying back to grab your hip, urging you on.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chants. "I'm so close. Don't stop, please don't stop."

"Not stopping, babe,” you promise. "Want to feel you come on my cock. Want to feel you lose control."

Your thrusts become harder, faster, each one calculated to hit that spot deep inside her while your fingers work her clit relentlessly. You can feel the tension coiling in her body, the way her muscles are going taut, the way her breathing has become these short, desperate gasps. She's right on the edge, teetering, and you know exactly what will push her over.

"Come for me, baby," you murmur against her neck. "Let go. Make a mess for me."

That's all it takes. Jimin screams, actually screams, as the orgasm hits her with a sudden force. Her whole body convulsions in your arms, her back arching violently, and you feel it: the sudden gush of fluid as she squirts, soaking your cock, your thighs, the sheets beneath you. It's even more intense than that time in Gapyeong, her pussy clamping down so hard on your cock that you can barely move, rhythmic pulses that seem to go on forever.

"That's it," you encourage, your fingers still working her clit, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. "So good, baby. You're doing so good. Keep going, make a mess. Don't hold back."

And she doesn't. More fluid pulses out with each wave of her orgasm, her body completely out of her control as pleasure overwhelms every sense. She's making these broken, sobbing sounds, her hand gripping your forearm so tight it might leave bruises, and you've never seen anything more beautiful than Jimin completely lost in ecstasy.

You keep moving through it, slower now but still hitting that spot, prolonging her orgasm until she's trembling so hard she can barely breathe. Finally, she pushes weakly at your hand on her clit, oversensitive, and you immediately stop, your fingers moving to rest gently on her hip instead.

"Holy shit," she gasps when she can finally speak. "That was… I can't even—"

"Incredible," you finish for her, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder. "You were incredible."

She's still trembling with aftershocks, her pussy fluttering around your cock, which is still hard inside her despite how close you are to your own edge. The sheets beneath you are soaked through, a wet patch spreading across the mattress, and there's something deeply satisfying about the visual evidence of her pleasure.

"I made such a mess," she says weakly, though there's satisfaction in her words rather than embarrassment.

"You did," you agree, grinning against her skin. "It's perfect. You're perfect."

She makes a contented sound, but after a moment she shifts, and you understand she needs to move. You slip out of her carefully, both of you groaning at the loss of connection, and help her roll onto her back. She lies there for a moment, chest heaving, skin flushed and glowing with sweat, and you take a second just to admire her. Thoroughly fucked, completely satisfied, absolutely gorgeous. But you're not done yet. Your cock is still achingly hard, slick with her arousal, and you need release. Jimin seems to realize this at the same time, her eyes focusing on your erection with new interest.

"Come here," she says. She shifts slightly on the bed, moving to lie more fully on her back in the center, and pats her chest. "I want to try something."

You move to straddle her waist, understanding immediately what she's suggesting. Your cock rests in the valley between her breasts, and just the sight of it, your length against her pale skin, makes you throb with need. You shift forward, guiding your cock to her mouth first, the head pressing against her lips. "Taste yourself first," you say. "Want you to taste how wet you got for me."

Jimin opens immediately, her tongue darting out to lick the head before she takes you into her mouth. You push in deep, not quite hitting the back of her throat but close, and she moans around you at the taste of her own arousal coating your shaft. She sucks enthusiastically, her eyes fluttering closed as she savors the flavor, her tongue swirling around you to gather every drop.

"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, watching her lips stretch around your girth. "You like tasting yourself on my cock?"

She nods as much as she can with her mouth full, humming in affirmation, and the vibration makes you throb. After a few more seconds, you reluctantly pull out, a string of saliva connecting her lips to your cock before it breaks.

"Now the tits," you say, repositioning yourself to straddle her chest again. Your cock, now wet from her mouth, slides easily into the valley between her breasts.

Jimin immediately pushes her breasts together with both hands, creating that perfect tight channel, and you start thrusting. The sensation is insane; the softness of her skin, the pressure she's creating, the way the head of your cock appears between her breasts with every forward thrust. It's different from anything else, this unique pleasure that has your thighs trembling already.

"God, your tits feel amazing," you breathe, your pace increasing. "So soft and perfect wrapped around my cock."

"Yeah?" She looks up at you with those eyes: big and dark and pleading, innocent and dirty all at once. "You like fucking my tits?"

"Love it," you confirm, your hips snapping forward harder. "Love watching my cock disappear between them. Love how you're squeezing them for me."

She adjusts her grip, pushing them together even tighter, and the increased pressure makes you gasp. "Like this? Is this good?"

"So good, baby. So fucking good."

Your pace becomes more urgent, more desperate, and you're fucking her breasts with real force now, your hips pistoning as you chase your release. Jimin watches your face intently, reading every expression, every sign that you're getting closer, and then she starts talking.

"Come for me," she says. "Please, baby. Want to feel your cum all over me."

"Fuck," you grunt, your movements becoming erratic.

"Want you to cover me," she continues, squeezing her breasts rhythmically in time with your thrusts. "Mark me with your cum. Show me how good I make you feel."

"Jimin—"

"Please," she begs, and her voice is so sweet, so eager, so genuinely desperate for it. "Need your cum, baby. Need you to give it to me. Be a good boy and come for me. Come all over my tits."

"Going to come," you warn. "Fuck, Jimin, I'm going to—"

"Yes," she encourages, squeezing her breasts even tighter. "Give it to me. Want all of it."

The orgasm hits you hard, intense and overwhelming after being held back for so long. The first spurt is powerful, shooting up between her breasts with such force that it lands across her face, a thick rope of cum that splashes across her cheek, her nose, her parted lips. She gasps at the impact, her eyes widening, and then she moans, this deep sound of pure satisfaction as she feels your hot release marking her skin.

"Yes, baby, yes," she encourages breathlessly, watching your face contort with pleasure.

The subsequent spurts paint her breasts in thick white stripes, covering the pale skin, pooling in her cleavage. She squeezes her breasts tighter, milking your cock for every last drop, and you keep coming, more than you thought possible, coating her chest thoroughly. It seems to go on forever, each pulse wringing more pleasure from you until you're shaking and gasping, completely spent.

When you finally finish, you're bracing yourself on the headboard with both hands, breathing hard, your entire body trembling with the aftermath. Jimin is a mess beneath you - cum dripping down her face, coating her breasts, pooling in her cleavage - and she looks absolutely delighted about it.

"That was so much," she says, full of wonder and satisfaction. Then, maintaining eye contact with you, she sticks out her tongue and licks the cum from her lips, from her cheek, gathering as much as she can reach. The sight is simultaneously cute and obscene, her expression almost innocent despite the absolutely filthy nature of what she's doing.

"You're incredible," you manage.

"Mm, and you taste amazing," she responds, using her fingers to wipe more cum from her face and bringing them to her mouth to suck clean. Then she does something that nearly makes you hard again despite having just come: she cups her own breasts, lifting them toward her mouth, and proceeds to lick them clean. Her tongue traces patterns through the cum covering her skin, gathering it, savoring it, all while making these little satisfied sounds.

"I love the taste of your cum," she says between licks, completely unselfconscious about it. "Could lick it off myself all day."

"Jesus Christ, Jimin," you breathe, watching her continue her thorough cleaning. "You're going to kill me."

She grins up at you, cum still visible on her chin. "But what a way to go, right?"

You can't argue with that logic. You carefully move off her, collapsing onto the bed beside her, and she immediately curls into your side, apparently unbothered by the mess still covering her. Your hand finds hers, fingers intertwining, and you both just lie there catching your breath, hearts slowly returning to normal rhythm.

"We should probably shower," she says eventually, though she makes no move to get up.

"Probably," you agree, equally unmotivated to leave the warmth of the bed.

"And change the sheets. I definitely ruined these."

"Worth it."

She laughs, happy, and turns her head to kiss your shoulder. "Definitely worth it."

You lie there in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, just existing together in the aftermath, before reality starts creeping back in. Dinner is probably cold. You both definitely need showers. The bed is a disaster. But none of that seems important right now, not when Jimin is wrapped around you, safe and satisfied and yours.

—

You wake up to sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, the kind of warm golden light that only happens on lazy weekend mornings. For a moment you just lie there, listening to Jimin's soft breathing beside you, watching the way her face looks peaceful in sleep. Saturday. your day off, and Jimin only has appointments scheduled for later in the afternoon. No rush, no urgency, just time stretching out ahead of you like a reward after everything you two have been through.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, you slip out of bed. She stirs slightly, making a small sound of protest before burrowing deeper into the pillows you left behind. You pull on sweatpants and pad quietly to the kitchen, deciding to make her breakfast. Nothing fancy, just scrambled eggs, toast, some fruit you bought earlier in the week, but made with care. You brew coffee for yourself and tea for her, the kind she likes with honey and lemon, and by the time everything's ready, you hear movement from the bedroom.

Jimin appears a few minutes later wearing one of her pajama sets that she left here weeks ago, soft pink cotton shorts and a matching tank top that rides up slightly when she stretches. Her hair is messy from sleep, no makeup, and she looks absolutely perfect in that effortless way that always takes your breath away.

"Morning," she says, and you notice she's still sleepy as she walks over and wraps her arms around you from behind.

"Good morning, beautiful." You turn in her embrace to kiss her properly, soft and unhurried. "I made you breakfast."

"I can see that." She eyes the plate on the counter appreciatively. "And smell it. You're spoiling me."

"You deserve to be spoiled." You pat her ass affectionately. "Go eat. I'll meet you in the living room."

She steals one more kiss before grabbing her plate and tea, padding into the living room. You follow with your own coffee, settling onto the couch as she curls up beside you, tucking her feet under her. You grab the remote and turn on the TV to some morning news program, just background noise while you eat.

"We have a few hours before you need to leave," you observe, glancing at the clock. "Any ideas how you want to spend them?"

Jimin gives you this look: the one where her eyes go soft and warm and a little bit wicked all at once. "Well," she says, setting her plate down on the coffee table and shifting closer. "I was thinking maybe some cuddling. And possibly more sex. That sounds like a pretty good way to spend a Saturday morning."

"I more than agree with that plan," you say, grinning.

She's about to say something else when a news anchor's voice cuts through your attention. "—SM Entertainment has identified and is taking legal action against the individual responsible for leaking private security footage—"

Your hand reaches for the remote, ready to change the channel, but Jimin stops you. "Wait. I want to hear this.”

"The footage, which showed idol Karina of the group aespa in a private moment with a staff member, sparked controversy when it was leaked online three weeks ago. SM Entertainment announced today that they have identified the perpetrator, a former IT contractor with access to the company's security systems, and are pursuing both criminal charges and a civil lawsuit has been charged with unauthorized access to computer systems, violation of privacy laws, and corporate espionage. SM's legal team stated that they will be seeking maximum penalties, including substantial financial damages. The company's CEO released a statement saying, 'We take the privacy and safety of our artists extremely seriously. This violation will not be tolerated, and we will pursue justice to the fullest extent of the law.'"

The camera cuts to footage of SM's building, then back to the anchor who's already moving on to the next story. You mute the TV and turn to look at Jimin, who's staring at the screen with wide eyes.

"They found him," she murmurs. "They actually found who did it."

"They found him," you confirm, and then you're both moving at once, pulling each other into a tight embrace. "Finally. It's about fucking time."

"I can't believe it." She pulls back to look at you. "They're actually holding him accountable. Suing him. Pressing charges."

"He's going to pay for what he did," you say firmly. "For what he put you through. Put us through."

She nods, wiping a lone tear from her eye. "It feels like everything's being resolved now. Like all the pieces are finally falling into place. The tour is back on, the company's supporting us, and now this? Now they're going after the person who actually caused all of this?"

"Maybe things are finally returning to normal," you suggest. "Or at least whatever our version of normal is."

"I hope so." She takes a shaky breath, her smile growing more genuine. "I really hope so. That we can just... move forward from all of this."

You pull her onto your lap, and she comes willingly, straddling you and wrapping her arms around your neck. "There's nothing left for you to do now except focus on your work," you tell her. "Let SM's legal team handle this asshole. You just concentrate on the tour, on performing, on doing what you love."

"And on you," she adds, kissing your nose. "Focusing on you too."

"I'll accept that." You run your hands up and down her back soothingly. "But seriously, this is good news. Great news. Justice is finally being served."

She rests her forehead against yours, just breathing with you for a moment. "I'm so glad we faced this together," she says quietly. "I don't think I could have survived it without you. Having you there, supporting me, believing in me when it felt like the whole world was against us… that made all the difference."

"We're a team," you remind her. "Always have been, always will be. You and me against whatever bullshit the universe throws at us."

"You and me," she echoes, smiling. "I like the sound of that."

"This was a really fucked up chapter in our relationship," you admit, thinking back over the past few weeks: the fear, the uncertainty, the moments where it felt like everything was falling apart. "But every story has trials, right? Every relationship goes through hard times. Ours just happened to involve a leaked video and national media attention."

She laughs at that, the sound a little watery but genuine. "When you put it like that, we sound very dramatic."

"We are dramatic. Look at us: childhood best friends who lost touch, reunited by chance, fell in love, had to hide it, got exposed, and somehow survived. That's prime K-drama material right there."

"Don't give them ideas," she jokes. "The last thing we need is someone making a show about us."

"Too late. I'm already writing the screenplay in my head." You grin at her expression. "What comes next though? That's the real question."

She tilts her head, considering. "What do you think comes next?"

"Honestly? I have no idea." You trace patterns on her back absently. "But I have a feeling it's going to be good things. The worst is behind us. The tour is happening, your career is safe, they found the guy who leaked the footage. From here, things can only get better."

"You sound very optimistic for someone who was stress-drinking three cups of coffee every morning three weeks ago."

"What can I say? Good news puts me in a good mood." You lean back against the couch, pulling her with you. "Plus, I have you on my lap on a Saturday morning with nowhere to be for hours. Life is pretty good right now."

She kisses you then, slow and sweet. When she pulls back, her eyes are bright with unshed tears but she's smiling. "So what's the plan for these few hours we have? Still interested in that cuddling and sex combination I mentioned?"

"Absolutely," you confirm. "Though maybe we could add 'celebrating good news' to that list."

"Celebratory sex?" Her eyebrows raise playfully. "I can work with that."

"Thought you might. Breakfast, then bedroom.”

She gets off your lap and sits next to you, reaching for her plate. "You know what the best part of all this is?" she asks between bites of eggs.

"What's that?"

"We don't have to hide anymore. No more sneaking around, no more secret meetings. When I leave here later, I can just... leave. Normal goodbye. Maybe even a kiss at the door like regular couples do."

"Revolutionary," you tease, but you understand what she means. The freedom of not having to constantly look over your shoulder, to just exist as a couple without the weight of secrecy.

"It is revolutionary," she insists. "For us, anyway. After everything we went through to keep this secret, then everything we went through when it became public - to finally just be together openly? That's huge. Of course we’re not going around showing off our relationship for everyone to see, but you know what I mean.”

She's right. It is huge. And as you sit there on the couch with her, the TV playing quietly in the background, Saturday morning light spilling through the windows, you realize that this is what you fought for. Not the grand gestures or dramatic moments, but this: simple, quiet contentment. The ability to just be together without fear.

"I love you," you tell her, because it feels important to say it in this moment.

"I love you too," she responds immediately, leaning against your shoulder. "So much. More than I knew I could love anyone."

Jimin happily eats the breakfast you prepared, occasionally commenting on whatever's on TV, and when she sets her empty plate down and turns to you with that look in her eyes, you don't hesitate. You pull her back onto your lap, kiss her deeply, and start the slow, sweet journey toward the bedroom.