Firaga Armor

Mostly NSFW, 18+

[firagaarmor]

Masterlist

Hi there, I'm a writer. You can call me Tim and I go by he/him

Rules

I mostly write smut, but I could also do fluff or angst. I also do commissions!! If you want to commission something or give me some love, head over to my kofi link

Ko-Fi

List of my works:

Aespa

Weekend Break feat. Giselle (Smut)

ARTMS/Loossemble

A Place I Can Call Home feat. Olivia Hye (Smut)

IZ*ONE

Stroke of Luck feat. Chaeyeon (Smut)

A Special Kind of Present feat. Hitomi (Smut)

IVE (SFW Only)

O Sole Mio feat. Gaeul (Fluff)

Special Day feat. Gaeul (Smut)

저승사자 feat. Gaeul (Angst)

LE SSERAFIM

Who Do You Belong? feat. Sakura (Smut)

Soloist

Good Boy feat. Chungha (Smut)

[valentinedrifter]

Playmates with Kazuha: Guests

male reader x Nakamura Kazuha feat. Naoi Rei

~4k words

A Sequel to Homies, Timing, and Mixups.

A/N: Halfway into the Bro Zuha's second set! Last one should be soon, barring any surprise BFHs.

Fanprose link here.

Enjoy.

Like, seriously, if there is one thing you don’t get about Kazuha, is that she does things without letting you know sometimes.

You’ve learned to get used to it, really. You’ve stopped wondering how in god’s green earth this happened, or why the universe decided to send it to your end of the world.

The Chaewon incident that started this whole thing coming to mind, which you weren’t opposed to at all, considering the events that occurred afterwards. A few more surprises here and there with her closest friends with the other, the more recent one being Kazuha coming home, drunk off her ass along with the girls.

That was a rather interesting Friday night, you’ll say. Your body has never felt so sore in your entire life the next few days after.

Extremely worth it, for all intents and purposes however.

But, to your point, she doesn’t let you know about things that you would very much like to know beforehand. Like today, for example, when you come home from what you thought was going to be an ordinary Wednesday until—

“Hi!”

“Jesus–” This was not what you were expecting when you came home from work. Luggage bags left in your hallway, a woman that is most certainly not Kazuha sitting on your couch, sipping on one of your yogurt milk drinks as she waves at you. Which makes you question where Kazuha is. “Uh, hello?”

“You must be Kazuha's boyfriend.” The woman continues sipping on her drink, the loud slurps coming from the straw pausing as she smiles prettily at you. “She said you'd be here around this time, so I thought of saying hi.”

“Right.” You are, for all intents and purposes, extremely skeptical of this woman. Don’t know who she is, where she came from, why there’s so much of her shit scattered in your hallway. She’s just here, for reasons you have zero idea of. 

You walk to the kitchen counter, placing down your backpack before turning towards her. “Sorry, who are you?”

“Oh!” She practically jumps out of the couch, and skips straight towards you with a grin on her face. “Name’s Rei. Naoi Rei.” She outstretches a hand.

You take her hand and shake it gently, tell her your name and be answered with a cute little nod that you swear is not making you cringe on the inside or make your heart race from how adorable it was.

“So you are Zuha’s boyfriend!” she repeats, and before you could come up with a reply for it, the front door swings open once again.

“Looks like you two are getting along.” Kazuha's striding in, a shopping bag in one hand, and a small handbag in another. She stands next to you, smiling and leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before she hands the bag to Rei. “Here's some extra pillows you can use.”

Rei gasps, and you're confused on whether this woman's a walking adorable little thing or not because every action she does looks way, way too cute to be normal.

“Thank you so much, I'll pay you back before I leave,” Rei says, pulling out a pair of pillows from the bag, the paper falling down the ground.

“Don't worry about it,” Kazuha replies, placing her bag next to your pack, and you watch as Rei squeezes one of the cushions between her arm, picking up the bag on the ground and walking back to the couch with another thanks. 

Which leaves you with Kazuha. You turn to her, blinking slowly and giving her a pointed look. Your hands gesture towards Rei, who's gotten in her own world on the couch, setting up her makeshift bed on it. “So.”

“So,” Kazuha repeats, eyes following your hands. “That's Rei.”

“That is Rei, yes.” Your palms rest on your hips. “Why is Rei here with a bunch of luggage, exactly?”

“She’s asked if she can crash for a few days,” she explains, leaning her elbow on the kitchen counter. “Traveled all the way from Japan for some music festival this weekend.” Said Rei would be gone by Wednesday next week, Kazuha swears. “She won’t cause us any trouble, trust me.”

You turn your gaze back to Rei, legs up in the air while she’s hugging one of the pillows and scrolling down her phone. You can faintly hear the sounds quickly shifting from one topic to another as her thumb swipes up every so often. “And when you say trouble–” Queue your finger air quotes. “You mean she’s not going to be involved in one of your plans?”

Kazuha only smiles at you, hand rising up to pat your cheek fondly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” There’s that familiar twinkle in your eye that you spot—one that you’re not sure whether to be excited or wary of what she’s cooking up—before she walks away.

Sighing and shaking your head, you take another look at Rei. Still busy with her phone, paying you no mind and not causing any trouble, just like Kazuha said.

You can’t help but add a ‘yet’, though.

—

Trouble, you’ve realized, decided to come in small batches over the course of the next few days.

Nothing that would get you arrested or caught in an indecent way, no. For the most part, it was you doing your usual routine with the added intrusion that Rei is living in your living room. And it causes a few odd encounters with her every now and again.

Like when Kazuha decided to jump you the following Thursday when you got home, kissing you right there in the doorway just as you opened the door to your apartment. And while it was an unexpected surprise that you would normally, wholeheartedly welcome with open arms, seeing Rei pretend that you and Kazuha are not sucking each other’s faces off wasn’t weird at all.

At least, not for Kazuha. It was odd as all hell for you when you realized that Rei was looking pretty earnestly until she got caught.

Or on Friday, where you swear to all manners of religion out there that you heard moaning outside your bedroom door when you woke up in the middle of the night because the bathroom was calling you. Suffice to say it was a quick run to and from the bathroom to avoid interrupting Rei’s potential ‘her’ time.

And you won’t lie, needing to be quiet in your own home because a guest was touching yourself was incredibly awkward, considering that’s not something anyone would ever stumble upon. Even more so when you were left alone on Saturday, when Rei was out at her festival, Kazuha coming along with her when Rei said her friend wouldn’t be able to make it.

“It’d be a great way for us to really catch up!” You remember Rei telling Kazuha before they left this morning. And for the most part, you kinda agree with her. The three of you never really seem to have a good time to sit down and hang out, outside of the two of them since they seemed rather close. You in particular, given that you’re mostly out on the weekdays that Rei started living in your apartment.

And as much as they wanted you to come with, the extortionist pricing to get tickets this late made all three of you exclaim profanities so loud that you were afraid of finally getting a noise complaint.

Aside from the rather relaxing afternoon you had cleaning up your home while watching the weekend motorsport race in an attempt to get rid of any lingering thoughts about Rei touching herself on your couch—one that you sat on for quite a while after doing the chores (you need to clean this couch soon)—and making some dinner for yourself after getting a text from Kazuha that they’ll be coming home late, you decided to call it early tonight and catch up with the two in the morning.

Which gets completely derailed when you wake up in the wee hours of Sunday, where you are awoken from the sounds that are coming from your living room. It causes you to groggily get out of bed, the intimate familiarity of your home allowing you to walk on autopilot even without fully opening your eyes.

Or have your senses wake up until you flick the light on to find Kazuha and Rei making out by the kitchen counter, the former practically shoving her tongue down the latter. 

You blink like an owl. Slowly, peculiarly, until the scene before you registers in your mind and you start looking like a deer in headlights. Then your brain finally catches up to what you’re seeing and—

“Well, good morning to you girls too.” Dragging a palm across your face, you decide to head over to grab a cup and fill it up with water. “Did you have fun earlier?”

Rei lets out a blissful hum, letting out a gasp as Kazuha leaves her lips to kiss down her neck. “Great,” she gasps, holding onto Kazuha’s locks. Rei lets out an even loud gasp when she gets hoisted up onto the counter by Kazuha, and even you were raising eyebrows at how assertive Kazuha is being tonight.

Or today, you’re not sure yourself. 

You take a good, long drink of your cup, downing it all in one go, a quiet, refreshed noise coming out of your lips before putting it down. You have half a mind to walk up and join in on whatever debauchery Kazuha’s planned, and another to go back to bed and let them have their fun, considering they’ve already started without you.

Kazuha might not even know you’re here, what with her buried completely in Rei’s chest, her hands pulling the jacket she has on away before her fingers begin to pull Rei’s top up to expose her chest and holy shit Rei being even more stacked than you thought was not in your bingo card.

Not that you were looking, of course. You were simply appreciating the times her cleavage was in display. Totally not looking down whenever you had the chance, no.

Your bro will never let you live it down. But then again, anyone would be happy to have their faces shoved full of tits, especially ones as big as Rei’s.

Kazuha included.

Speaking of, she’s finally gotten her head out of Rei’s tits and turns to you with a grin. “Hey.” Is all she says, like this is another Sunday for her (and for the most part, this was a normal Sunday before you two were a thing, the player that your girlfriend was. Still is.) “Had a good day doing nothing today?”

“I cleaned, thank you very much,” you answer, walking up next to her, arm wrapping around her waist and leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek, like this is another Sunday for you. “I’m guessing this is how Rei is paying you back for staying?”

“Oh this was for the pillows I got her,” Kazuha says, taking your free hand and placing it on Rei’s bra-covered breast, and even with the fabric in the way you can feel how soft and large they are in your hand. Rei encourages you further, pushing her chest out for the both of you and your fingers can’t stop themselves from squeezing. “Now she’s paying us back with her pillows.”

“They are some very nice pillows,” you mutter, engrossed in the soft flesh.

Kazuha chuckles, a hand coming down to cup the bulge growing in your shorts, fondling you through your clothing. Her lips come close; kisses starting from your neck, journeying her way up to your cheek all the way until she can nibble your earlobe, cooing a question that you’ll ever answer. “Better than Kkura’s?”

Whether it be because you don’t want to hurt Rei’s feelings (especially cause you’re getting a feel of her tits), Sakura’s feelings when Kazuha eventually tells her (cause you know Sakura’s going to come barging in your apartment one night when she learns about it), or your own physical being, you can’t be sure. What you are sure of is that all three can be an option, but you’re too busy fondling Rei’s breasts to give Kazuha an answer anyway.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Kazuha sing-songs, tugging your shorts down to your ankles. “Rei, be a dear and help me out here, why don’t you?”

“On it!” Rei’s hands come to the waistband of your boxers, and they end up right above your shorts. Your cock twitching and leaking and Christ her hands feel amazing stroking you so gently it makes you moan.

It makes Kazuha giggle; a sound that makes you fall deeper into this whole rabbit hole of fucking yet another one of her friends. “Excited now, are we bro?” And it’s like she’s reading your mind, even when she’s on her knees and looking at you with those doe eyes. Knowing that you’re just as turned on as she is, that you’ll be sharing Rei between the both of you.

That, or it could be the other way around and she’s sharing you with her friends.

“Well, don’t worry too much,” Kazuha continues, inching closer to your cock. “Let Rei and I take care of you for the night, hmm?” Her tongue gives a quick lick at your tip, making your thighs clench.

“Let me guess–” you exhale, glancing back to Rei. “Is this your thanks for letting you stay?”

“Nope!” she says, her entire face lighting up. She leans in and gives your cheek a quick peck then drops off the counter to follow Kazuha on her knees. “I’m doing this cause I’m so fucking wet right now.” Rei gives that same quick kiss to your tip, holding you by the base all while Kazuha watches by her side.

“Rei’s a little bit of a horndog,” Kazuha adds, nudging Rei lightly. Rei only nods in agreement, her tongue coming out to lick your shaft; from the tip going down to the base of your cock, she leaves no surface safe from her pretty pink muscle that’s eager to get you ready. “And she is very adventurous.”

“I can tell.” Just by the way Rei is worshipping your balls, taking each one in her mouth and rolling them with her tongue, sucking and licking away at them so goddamn well it makes you lean back onto the counter to brace yourself for when Kazuha inescapably joins in. “Christ, Zuha, you’re making me think you’ve fucked all your friends.”

“Not all of them,” Kazuha snaps back, a smirk on her lips. She gets closer to your dick, hot breath tickling you, and the air you need in your lungs gets exponentially bigger the moment her own tongue comes out to have her fun. “I’m thinking we should double team someone one of these days, though.”

Jesus, this woman truly is after your own heart. Even the mere thought of Kazuha wearing a strap, pinning Rei down and getting to stuff her in both holes sounded insane. And here she is, telling you that she’s ready and willing to go; might not even need to be Rei at all.

“Hot,” Rei comments, like her mouth isn’t preoccupied with your balls. “Can that be me? Please let it be me.”

The shit eating grin on Kazuha’s face when she hears that, paired with her eyebrows wiggling at you causes a shaky laugh to spill out of your lips. Knowing that it really, actually, might be Rei that’s going to get stuffed by the both of you in the near future makes you throb harder, pulsing around Kazuha’s hand.

Something you’ll anticipate for later, when the time comes. Right now you need to focus on not cumming too early when both Kazuha takes your cock in her mouth, tongue swirling around your cockhead just as Rei manages to take both your balls in hers. It makes you grip the counter tighter, hissing a curse and looking up at the ceiling just so the view won’t make you explode in record time.

Not that it matters, you’re only delaying the inevitable when it comes to Kazuha.

“Z-Zuha–” you stutter, a hand coming to rest on her hair, running your fingers through her locks when she takes you deep. Mouth locked firmly around your length, she sucks eagerly, cheeks hollowing out as she bobs. Up and down and up and down and down and down until her nose almost reaches your crotch. Letting out a gag before she comes up for air, stroking your spit covered cock and looks up at you with a smile.

“Problem?” The tilt of her head partnered with the grin playing her face is fucking you up seven ways to Sunday, and your fingers curled up in her hair tightens in response. Combined with the fact that Rei’s never let up on your balls, and it’s a constant barrage of pleasure that you do not have the strength to win against.

“I–fuck–” It’s embarrassing to admit, having to lose so quickly against these two, but waking up and having your dick sucked wasn't exactly what you were expecting to happen. “I’m not gonna last long.”

Rei pauses, coming up and finally giving you a moment's rest, and she is a mess. Droll running down her chin that she doesn’t bother wiping off, only slurping what she can in her mouth as she grins at you two. “Can I do the thing please?”

You turn to Kazuha. “What thing?”

“Course you can, Rei.” Kazuha gives Rei a kiss on the cheek.

“Yes!” Rei leaves one last kiss on your cock, her tongue making out with the tip and the surprise almost makes you kick your feet up. 

“Holy shit–”

She doesn't stay for long, kissing you cock one last time before she stands up. Before you can know it Kazuha is pulling you away from the counter, getting you to stand upright.

“Dude, what is she talking about?” You hold on to Kazuha's shoulders, the clothes around your ankles being a pain to move forward.

Kazuha only grins and gives you a wink. “When I said Rei was adventurous–” You can feel Rei behind you now, her hands on your shoulders, face peeking out from behind to kiss you dangerously close to your lips but pulls away to smooch you on the cheek. “She’s really adventurous.”

Rei must know what'll happen if she decides to have a taste of your lips. 

Clothes rustling behind you pique your curiosity, making you want to turn around to see Rei's breasts out of that damn bra. Wanting to feel the weight of them in your palms, pinch and play with her nipples, give them a nice, good squeeze—

A squeaky, girly noise comes out of you, shivers up your spine, your skin tingling all over the place, body locking up; it happens all at once, overloading your senses and almost making you double over if not for Kazuha holding you upright. You don’t know how to react, your body running on instinct at the burst of pleasure that’s hit you, all because of a wet intrusion poking in your taint.

“What the fuck, Rei–” The letters that constitute pronouncing her name slowly become gibberish in favor of a long, drawn out moan, your hands grabbing Kazuha’s head in an attempt to find solace. Even if you must look so fucked stupid in front of her, that smile Kazuha gives you is somehow both endearing and problematic at the same time.

“Relax,” Kazuha says, and that one word—that one, simple word—is enough to let you know that there is, in fact, a problem. “Just let go when you need to, alright?”

And when Kazuha starts to double down on the assault of pleasure being inflicted on you, you just know that you’re not going to last much longer. You’re almost hyperventilating at how potent the feeling is, the tingling becoming a numbing sensation over your body from it all.

The sensation of Rei licking around your pucker, circling it with her tongue before she does a few pokes to test your reaction. Kazuha’s head a blur from how fast her head is bobbing, blowing you so eagerly. Rei digging her fingers in your ass once her tongue plunges in to rim you. Kazuha’s gaze never losing its focus away from you, her lips suctioned at your tip, tongue circling around, flicking the slit of your cockhead while her hands stroke you.

You’re seeing stars. Blots of white start blocking your vision, the hold you have on Kazuha’s head getting firmer to hold yourself together. It’s useless trying to fight back against it, not when these two are tongue fucking you on both sides. You try to warn either of them that the inevitable is happening, but all that comes out is garbled mutterings of a man gone mad.

It just happened, is what you eventually tell the both. When your eyes roll back and your cock erupts straight into Kazuha’s waiting mouth, filling up with cum at each pulse. The hum that vibrates around your cock along with the tongue slowly licking around your taint coaxes more and more of your load to come out, and it all seems neverending.

Rei comes out from behind, leaving your backside to kneel next to your leg. A finger feathers around your taint, even as she stares at Kazuha prolongs your load. And Kazuha manages to stay attached to your cock, jerking you off to gain more of your spunk, swallowing what she can even as it starts to spill out of her lips. The wonder in Rei’s eyes as she watches, the perverse anticipation in her lips—and all you can do is moan and let it all happen.

“There you go,” Rei mutters, her thighs pushing together. “Give her all that cum. Give her everything so I can have some for myself.”

Kazuha’s lips leave your shaft and you’re crumbling to the floor, feeling like you just ran a marathon and back from the experience. Rei makes sure that you don’t hurt yourself, getting your back against the counter before she gets pulled in for a kiss by Kazuha.

Cum gets swapped between their lips, lips savouring the taste, their tongues sliding together and sharing what Kazuha has milked from you. Some spill down, some stick to their lips, most get swallowed from both. It’s all so messy, and they don’t care at all.

Somehow, someway, your cock comes to life from the view. You don’t understand how, and you’re genuinely scared to find out what happens when you figure out that your body is overruling your sense of survival for more of this.

They part, Kazuha turning to you as Rei licks up any leftover cum that’s fallen down to the former’s chest. “You look like you enjoyed that.”

“I look like I’m a fucking corpse,” you reply, causing Kazuha and Rei to giggle. “What the hell was even that?”

“Just a little thank you for cleaning up the apartment while we were off partying.” Kazuha closes the distance between you two, coming to your left. She cups your cheek, and her lips meet yours. 

Arms wrap around her waist to pull her close, and you relax. Letting yourself get swept away by Kazuha’s soft lips for a moment, whispering such a rare phrase to you in between all of the kisses that it makes you smile. You say it back, just when you feel a wet pressure around your length.

It makes you flinch in surprise, pulling you away from the moment, from Kazuha. You look down, and Rei’s in between your legs, cock popping off her lips.

“So about that double team,” Rei starts, slowly stroking you. It was enough to ease you back into hardness. She’s careful with you, making sure that the pleasure doesn’t become pain from overstimulating you. “Can that be my payment for staying here for the week?”

You share a look with Kazuha.

Kazuha shrugs. Takes a glance at Rei. Smirks.

“I’m down if you’re down, bro.”

[bunnsfw]

ᘏᘏ thirsty bunn thursdays male reader x choerry (artms/loona) ※ more of my works on fanprose

“Daddy—daddy—daddy~”

She’s on her back, knees apart, ankles around your waist, eyes already wet. The bedside lamp catches the small gold cherry pendant you gifted her this morning. She’s wearing nothing else.

“Yes, baby?” You’re inside her, and your cock coated in her needy slick, and you’re not moving.

“Please move, daddy.” Her hips lift. “It’s my birthday, please don’t tease me too much.”

“I know it is, baby.”

“Then move~” She pulls you closer with her ankles. “Please, daddy, please. I’ve been a good girl all year.”

“Have you? Have you really, Choi Yerim? Or do you want me to remind you what you did over at Heejin’s house when we visited last month?”

“Eeeeeh. It was just a quickie. I’m sure Heejin didn’t mind. I’ve been good enough, daddy.”

“Good enough?” You start to move, slow. You sink in deep, and her mouth opens in that round shape you chase. “Good enough for what? Heejin heard all your moaning and screaming back then, I’m sure of it.”

“I’m sure she enjoyed it as well, daddy. Come on~ It’s my birthday. I’ve been good enough for you to cum inside me multiple times today and breed me, daddy~”

“Ok. Is that your wish?”

“Well… That was wish number one.”

“Then let’s get it done. Seems you have multiple wishes for your birthday.”

You continue your assault on her tight cunt. The pendant slides across her sternum. You feel her clench around you on the second stroke.

“Don’t stop—please, please, don’t stop.”

You don’t stop. Actually, you go faster. You set a rhythm, and the sensation awakened something in her. When she’s really deep into pleasure, she starts talking during sex the way other people pray.

“Oh god. Oh god, oppa. You’re going so deep. I’m nearly cumming, oppa. Oppa—I’m… Daddy… I’m—”

“Already?”

“It’s my birthday.”

“I know, baby, and I’m going to make you cum over—” One stroke. “—and over—” Another. “—and over until you can’t handle it anymore.”

Her eyes roll back. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck! Daddy! Choerry’s cumming. Choerry’s co— oh god, fill me up, fill me up daddy, please daddy, please—”

She moaned hard, screamed actually; she cums hard around you. Her thighs clamping and her back arching and her hands grabbing at the sheets. You’re not done, but she’s already begging through the orgasm: inside me, please daddy, inside me, it’s my special day, give it all to me daddy, breed me, and you decide tonight’s rules are her rules. You bury yourself to the hilt and come inside her on your first climax.

She makes a sound when she feels your seed spilling inside her that you’re going to remember for the rest of your life.

“Mhmmm. Oh my god, oppa.” Her hands come up to her own stomach. “I felt all of that. Gosh, I want more of it; that was so addicting, oppa. This might be my best birthday ever.”

“We haven’t even really started, baby.”

“That’s what I like to hear, daddy~” Her face changes. She’s grinning now. Her makeup is already running. “Oppa, please don’t pull out yet. Let it stay there for now.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good because I want you to breed me again after this.”

“Yerim…”

“What?” She’s looking up at you with the wettest eyes you’ve seen. “It’s my birthday wish, remember?”

“Alright.”

“For my birthday.” She lifts her own knees to her chest, slow. The bottom of her stomach is already glistening. “Knees-to-chest. Make me feel it everywhere daddy. Yerimmie wants to see her belly move with you inside her.”

That does it. You feel yourself harden inside her again before she finishes that thought.

You stay buried. You push her knees the rest of the way, her ankles by her ears, her body folded under you. The angle is criminal. The first stroke from this position makes her eyes go completely white.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuuuck.” Her moans sound like chants.

You start moving, and you can feel yourself in a different part of her now, deeper than you can be in any other position. She looks down at her own stomach and her face changes once more.

“Oppa, Oppa, look. Look at me.”

You look. Her stomach is moving with every stroke. Actually moving, the shape of you visible through her abdomen, sliding up and down with the rhythm. Her hand presses there. Her own palm bulges out as you push in.

“Oh god, daddy. You’re so huge inside me. You’re actually ripping me apart. I love it.” She’s crying now. Tears of joy streaming out of her. “Breed me, daddy. Spill your seed inside me some more. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy~ Birthday girl needs to get bred.”

You fuck her harder. She’s not making coherent words anymore. The bulge in her stomach moves with you, and her hand stays there feeling it, and her other hand has found your forearm, and she’s holding on like you might disappear.

“Oppa, I’m there again, daddy, daddy, fill me up, fill me up, pleaseee, fill your wife up, give it to me, give it to me, please please please please—”

“Where do you want it again, baby?”

“Inside. Inside, please, only inside—”

“Where again, Yerim?”

“In my fucking womb, daddy. In my fucking womb. Give it to your wife. Breed me. Knock me up, daddy. It’s my birthday. Fill me up and breed this birthday girl. Please please please—”

You cum inside her so hard your vision blurs. She cums around you at the same time, her hands clamping on her own stomach, feeling you pulse, and the sound she makes is half-scream, half-prayer, and full-ecstasy, and you’re completely sure for the second time tonight that you will never love anyone else.

“Oppa.”

“Yes, baby?”

“That was so fucking good.” Tears running into her hair. “This is the best birthday ever, oppa. You’re so good to me.”

“I’m glad.”

You start to pull out, and she clamps her thighs around you.

“Nope. Don’t. Not yet. Stay inside, daddy. I want to feel both loads sitting in there.”

“Choerry. Baby.”

“Just for a minute. Please. Then I want to ride you next.” She smiles. “This is another wish of mine for my birthday.”

You roll. She comes with you, never letting you slip out, knees finding the mattress on either side of your hips, hands flat on your chest. Her hair falls forward. Her stomach still has the slight curve of two loads inside her.

She rocks forward. Slow at first.

“Look at me, my hubby.”

You look. The lamp catches her sweat and the pendant that swings against her chest.

“Are you watching?”

“I’m watching, my wife.”

“I want you to see this. I want you to see your wife taking care of her husband. Her only one true lifetime wish.” She rolls her hips, and her eyes flutter, and she grins through it.

She starts to ride. Her thighs flex. Her tits bounce. The bulge in her stomach lifts and falls with every drop. You put your hands on her hips, and she puts her hands over yours.

“No need, daddy,” she breathes. “Use me freely tonight, hubby. I do all the work tonight. You just stay there and fill me up when I ask.”

“Yerimmie.”

“Choerry’s working. Choerry’s working hard for her present, daddy.”

She rides you in increasing tempo, “You’re so fucking deep, daddy. So, deep. Fuck. I love your cock, daddy. I love it. I love feeling it inside me. I love feeling all your cum still inside me. This is the best birthday ever. I want round four. No. Round five. No. I want more, daddy. I want to pass out with your dick still inside me.”

And you start feeling yourself nearing again, for the third time, and she sees it on your face, and her grin widens.

“Mhmm. Third one.”

“Choerry—”

“Third one’s coming, hubby.” She drops harder. “Give it to me. Right where the other two are. I want them all mixing inside me. I want to leak when I walk to the bathroom tomorrow morning. I want you to look at me when I do and remember it was you who put it there.”

You cum for the third time, and she sits down on you and stays there, hips grinding small, milking you further than you can muster. Her hand goes to her stomach again. Her eyes find yours.

“Best birthday ever.” She leans down, the pendant brushing your chest; then her body goes heavy on you, slow, peaceful. She passes out with a huge smile on her face. You kiss her temple before you follow her.

“I love you, Choi Yerim.”

comment an idol you'd want featured on thirsty bunn thursdays and I'll feature them in the next installment. thirsty bunn thursdays are now also on fanprose.

[eightsh8pe]

Different Boy

Genre: Fluff

Length: +2k words

Le Sserafim Kazuha x Male Reader

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You've never been much of an "alpha male", and frankly, you're fine with that. Your childhood is a classic tale: always last picked in school sports, struggled to make many guy friends, called every homophobic slur under the sun just for having basic hygiene. Despite it all, you ended up in an alright place—a quiet and unassuming existence.

Then, you met Kazuha, and your quiet and unassuming existence turned upside down.

"He ordered the chicken sandwich, not the burger," she scolds, dropping the tray of food onto the counter with enough force to send a couple fries flying.

You meekly tug her sleeve. "It's fine, really—"

"Hush, baby." In an instant, she shuts you up with a quick glance with those piercing eyes. "Let momma handle this."

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," the cashier says with his squeaky, prepubescent voice. "I'll have the kitchen put a rush on his chicken sandwich right away. Uh, may I interest you in a free dessert for your troubles?"

Kazuha turns to you, patiently waiting for your answer.

"Uh, I guess a vanilla milkshake wouldn't be so bad—"

"Vanilla milkshake," she repeats, leaning against the counter. "And no cherries. My boyfriend doesn't like cherries."

The cashier gulps, his Adam's apple practically disappearing in sheer terror. "U-uh, yes ma'am. No cherries. Understood."

"Good." Kazuha shoots him one final glare before taking your hand and leading you back to your booth.

"You didn't have to do that," you mutter. "I would've been fine with the burger."

She slinks into the seat across from you with a huff. "It's not what you ordered though. And I know how much you like the chicken sandwich at this place."

You shrug. "The burger isn't that bad."

"Then why didn't you order the burger?" She raises her brow in that "I'm right and you know it" kinda way that you're all too familiar with.

"Well…"

Kazuha reaches across the table and lifts up your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. "Repeat after me: Thank you for fixing my order, Kazuha. You're the best," she says in a high-pitched voice.

You chuckle softly. "I don't sound like that."

"Say it."

"Thank you for—"

"Do it in the voice."

"Wha—I'm not gonna do t—"

"Do it!"

Her outburst attracts some unwanted attention from other tables, making you shrink in your seat. "Kazuha, people are looking…"

Her lips curl into that smirk—the one that never fails to make your heart do a somersault even after eight months of dating. "Aw, sorry," she brushes her thumb against your bottom lip, "did I embarrass you, baby?"

"W-whatever." You pull away before you do something that'll get both of you kicked out for overt PDA. "Thanks for fixing my order. You're the best," you utter flatly.

Kazuha sits back, arms behind her head and chin held high like those cool kids in old movies. "I know. I'm pretty fuckin' sick."

"And humble too."

The cashier from earlier drops off your food, making an effort to avoid looking Kazuha in the eye. "Here you go, is there anything else I can get you two?" he asks.

Kazuha looks over at you for an answer. "No, thank you," you say. You swear you see him breathe a heavy sigh of relief as he walks away. Poor guy.

"I feel bad," you unwrap your chicken sandwich, the one you ordered initially. "He's probably got enough things going on without us giving him grief."

"Relax babe, we're doing him a favor. Now he knows not to mess up people's orders," she points out, coolly tossing a fry into her mouth.

"Still," you linger on the flakes of salt on her lip for a second too long, "you know how badly service people are treated on the daily. I don't wanna add to that."

"Then don't. I'll do it for you," she smirks.

"Kazuha, that's not funny."

"What, I didn't laugh."

"Yeah, but you're smiling."

"I'm smiling because you're cute."

You bite your tongue, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of a grin. Unknowingly or not, she sets her food to the side and leans forward, eyeing you like a piece of art.

"Ugh, I hate when you do that," you mutter.

"Do what? I'm just lookin' at ya." Her eyes trace over your lips, and you wonder if she'll like the taste of that new chapstick you just bought.

"I'm trying to eat."

"Am I disturbing your eating?" You feel her foot press against your calf, drawing slow lines with the toe of her boot.

Trying to win against Kazuha is a sisyphean task. She does what she wants, and you follow her around like a loyal puppy. Behave well enough, she'll give you a treat—and just like any puppy, you like your treats.

"Not here, at least," you pout. "I haven't had a single thing to eat all day."

"Aww." She gives you one last drag against your leg before settling back into her seat. "Okay, I'll let you eat."

"Thank you."

Even then, you find your foot gently rubbing against hers as you eat. You can act annoyed all you want, but face it: you're completely smitten with Kazuha.

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"Baby?" Kazuha grabs a leather jacket off of the rack and holds it up to her torso. "What do you think?"

"I think," you sigh, "you have way too many leather jackets."

"What's wrong with that? I'm a collector."

"That looks exactly like the one you bought last week." You take a closer look at the oddly familiar looking tag. "I'm pretty sure that is the exact same one."

"Oh." She takes one last look at it before putting it back. "See, this is why I like having you around. I've probably saved, like, a billion dollars thanks to you."

"Whatever," you chuckle, linking your arm with hers. It's just common sense, you think, but the warmth of her compliment is leagues better than being right.

The two of you pass by racks and racks full of the new wave of summer trends. Personally, you've always been a fan of the fall—cardigans, sweaters, the ability to wear jeans without your legs feeling like tinfoil-wrapped burritos. You and summer are just a match made in Hell. Inevitably, it comes around to torment you for three months out of the year and you're forced to scramble for a wardrobe that won't burn you alive.

"See anything you like?" Kazuha asks.

You scan the men's section, grimacing at the typical suspects that plague the shelves—tank tops, cargo shorts, ugly graphic tees with abominations like "summer vibes" written all over them. "Not really."

"You sure?" She grabs a simple black tank top off the rack. "This one seems pretty nice."

You physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Something like that would only look good on her, with her pretty arms that are deceptively strong, and when she flexes, you can see the shadows dance around her biceps, which reminds you of that one time she put you in a chokehold as a joke and you could feel her muscles pushing against your throat, and you were so mesmerized by the feeling that you forgot to fight back, and—

"Baby?" Kazuha shakes you out of your trance. "You okay?" she chuckles.

"I-I'm good." You wipe away the droplet of drool that almost leaked from your lips. "Let's keep looking."

Deeper and deeper through the men's section you go, yet nothing seems to tickle your fancy. Go figure. You knew looking for clothes this time of year would be futile, but Kazuha wanted to hang out and you already said yes before realizing how much of a waste of time this would amount to.

"Ugh, these all suck," you groan.

"Maybe we'd have found something by now if you weren't so picky," Kazuha points out, brow raised at you.

"Not all of us were born to look good in just about anything," you bite back with a cheesy grin. "Some of us have to put effort into looking nice."

"Hey, don't blame me for being sexy." She drapes her arm around your shoulders, and for a split second, you think she's going to put you into another chokehold. So close. "I don't want you overheating just because you're being stubborn, baby."

"I'm not being stubborn, I just—"

You glance over at the women's section and stop at one of the mannequins. It's wearing a simple outfit, fitting for the weather, but what catches your eyes is the skirt—floor length and ruffled, made of a pure white cotton that seems to dance, even on the still mannequin. 

For one reason or another, you can't take your eyes off of it. It wouldn't be too hard to fit into your current wardrobe, and it's a much nicer alternative to the dull beige of all the cargo shorts that seems to infect every corner of the men's options. But, it's just—you're a guy, and Kazuha, well—you already wonder why she even likes you, and—

Kazuha follows your gaze. "Are you getting the hots for the mannequin?" she teases.

"W-what? No, I just—maybe we can find somewhere else to—"

She grips your hand before you have a chance to escape. "Hey, be honest with me." Her voice turns softer, more sincere compared to her usual mischief. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, I—" You peer into her round eyes. They're void of any kind of judgment or disgust, the usual reaction you expect when girls you're interested learn of your 'peculiar tastes'. "I just thought the skirt was pretty. That's all."

"Pretty on me, or pretty on you?"

"Well, of course you'd look pretty in it—"

"Hey." She tilts your chin up, the tip of her thumb pressing your bottom lip. You practically sink into her touch. Never have you felt a presence safer than Kazuha's.

"I… wanna try it on," you admit shyly. "Is that okay?"

She bares her pretty white teeth at you before pressing a soft kiss onto your lips. "Of course you can, baby. You don't need my permission to wear whatever you want."

Heat creeps up your cheeks like lava bubbling to the top of a volcano. "Thanks," you utter, biting back your excitement at the thought of looking pretty.

The second your staring at your reflection in the dressing room mirror, the ruffled skirt in your hands, it all starts to feel a little too real. Your first ever skirt. The thought has crossed your mind a handful of times before, but you never thought you'd actually get to this point. If it weren't for Kazuha and her charming eyes, this moment would just be another figment of your imagination.

You take a deep breath, and you put it on—it fits. Your reflection doesn't look half bad either. The breeze between your legs will take some getting used to, and you'll need to be wary of what color underwear you wear with these, but for now, you're just in awe of how good it looks. How good you look.

You do a little twirl for fun, giggling at the way the dress flows like petals on a blooming flower. Kazuha knocks against the dressing room door. "Did you try it on yet? I wanna see."

"Yeah! Come in."

As soon as Kazuha sees you, her expression drops. In that moment, worry starts to creep into your mind.

Does she not like it?

Does she not like you?

Will she leave just like the rest of them?

All your anxieties are laid to rest as Kazuha envelops you into a tight squeeze. "Holy fuck, my boyfriend is so pretty," she breathes, rocking you back and forth in her arms. You immerse yourself in her warmth, the kind of warmth that steadies your heart and quiets your mind; the kind you want to feel every day until you die.

"Does that mean you like it?" you ask.

"I love it," she says, pecking your lips. "I'm totally buying you every single color they have."

You chuckle at her enthusiasm. "Maybe we can just stick to this one for now? Until I get used to it, at least."

"That's fine with me." Her lips find yours once again, this one a little longer, a little more tender. "It really suits you, baby."

This kiss leaves you wobbly-kneed and blubbering, reduced to a puddle of lovestruck goop in her arms. Her strong, toned arms that you somehow fit perfectly in between.

"Let's hurry up and pay for it so I can take it off you later tonight," she winks, shutting the door behind her and leaving you to feel like the luckiest boy on the planet.

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The two of you kick off your shoes by the front door of your apartment, tossing the shopping bags haphazardly on your coffee table. Those will be for future you to deal with; right now, your feet are dead from all the walking and your body is in desperate need of a bed to collapse on.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Kazuha urges, dragging you to your bedroom. In there, she collapses back onto your bed, arms above her head and her eyes staring you down like a hawk to a little mouse. "Hurry up and take me, pretty boy."

"O-oh." You gulp. "You mean, like, right now? Um—"

"What's that?" Kazuha asks, a smirk growing on her lips. On your usually tidy desk, a small pile of crumpled tissues sits next to your closed laptop, and the memory of what you did last night hits you all at once.

"W-wait, it's not what it looks like—!"

"You little freak!" Before you have a chance to explain yourself, Kazuha jumps to her feet, grabbing at your laptop with the cunning of a fox. "Ooh, let's see what kind of perversions you were watching!"

"Kazuha, don't—"

She flips open your laptop, and on the screen lies a still of the last scene you had watched—a boy with cerebral palsy and his grandma overlooking the edge of a mountain.

"What?" Kazuha asks. "Where's the porn?"

"I wasn't watching porn," you sigh in embarrassment, "I was watching a movie."

She gasps. "An adult movie?!"

"No!" 

Kazuha falls into a fit of giggles. Real mature of her.

"I was watching a… sad movie." You point at the pile of tissues. "I was crying…"

"Aw." She holds your head to her chest, kissing the top of your scalp. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make of fun of you for crying."

"It's fine." It's impossible to be upset with her when she feels this nice.

"Was it good? Can I watch it with you?"

"You want to? What about the whole, um, 'taking you' thing?"

She chuckles softly. "Maybe some other time. Walking around all day has got me feeling lazy." Kazuha crawls into your bed, cozying up under your covers. "C'mon, I wanna watch!"

You relent, following her onto your bed. "I might cry again."

"That's okay," she wraps you in her embrace, "mama's here."

You drag the little red dot all the way to the beginning and hit play, safe and sound in her arms.

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"Grandma?" Chunhe utters, cradling the box of his beloved cat's ashes in his arms.

"Hmm?" she replies.

"After you take me to school, I'll buy you a meal at the cafeteria."

His grandma smiles at him. "All right."

"And then," Chunhe continues, "Buy yourself a train ticket and go wherever you want. Go look around. Go have some fun. Let me walk the rest of my path my way. All right?"

His words may be slow or clumsy, but his sincerity cuts through like the sharpest blade, and his grandma knows this. No more is Chunhe the helpless little boy he once was; now, he stands tall against the prejudice that the world throws at him.

Even after knowing how it ends, it doesn't get easier the second time around.

"There, there," Kazuha coos, gently brushing your head. "It's okay, baby."

"Sorry," you sniffle, "It's just—"

"I know."

She holds you to her chest, letting you sob your little heart out for what feels like forever. For every tear that falls, Kazuha is there with a brush of her thumb or a comforting kiss to pick up all the broken pieces that the movie left you in.

It feels unfair, undeserved, you think, to know such tenderness like it's home. In the original script, the roles would be reversed—Kazuha sobbing into your arms while you comfort her. 

But they aren't. And even in this tenderness that you cherish so deeply, inklings of insecurities that you've long held still manage to seep through.

"Can I ask you something?" you say, wiping away at the last of your tears.

"What is it, baby?"

You breathe, slowly. "Why do you… why do you like me?"

She leans into you, the soft weight of her cheek resting on your head. "Hmm… Well, other guys just suck," Kazuha answers simply.

"Don't you ever wish I was more, uh, 'manlier' or something?"

"Hell no," she grimaces. "Those kinds of guys are the worst. I say one funny thing and they're all like 'Damn, your energy is different, for real!' and it's so annoying! I just have a personality!"

Kazuha holds you tighter, and it becomes clear just how much she wants you over any other guy. "Besides, I like my boys on the softer side." She kisses your damp cheek. "It means they have a soul."

The two of you share a chuckle, holding each other underneath the covers until the fatigue of today catches up to both of you. Your insecurities quelled, body warm, and heart undeniably owned by this miracle of a woman; for the first time in your quiet and unassuming existence, you feel like you're right where you belong—wrapped up in Kazuha's arms.

[mintwithchoco]

beaux rêves: Ep 7 - 26 May

ITZY Yeji x Male Reader

Word Count: 1234 words

TW: Suicide

fanprose

You loved Hwang Yeji.

For five years, you’ve poured and sacrificed everything you had—money, time, life even—just to show how much you adore this woman, and she certainly appreciates it. With so many memories being shared, from sneaking out late at night for a date to avoid any media to a fancy dinner out in the open, you know that she was gonna be the one that you want to lay your head upon, the one that you wanna come back home to every day, and the one that will bring you comfort just by looking at their beauty.

All in all, you loved Hwang Yeji.

Unfortunately, it has come to an end.

In such a cruel, tragic, and pure disgusting way, your whole life has turned itself upside down. All gone, in just one minute.

Five years. It took you five years to realize that everything was fake, from the very beginning. That smile when you bought her that vanilla ice cream? The teardrops she shed when you gave her that necklace? The happiness she felt when you finally came over to her new apartment?

All of the times that you have shared with Hwang Yeji were never real.

The black box in your hand feels heavy. Though it doesn’t beat the weight inside of your heart. You truly don’t know how to feel at all—it’s like everything has left your body, and all it retains are your empty regrets. Regrets on how you haven’t done everything to make her stay. Regrets that you weren’t a good partner to her. Regrets on the lack of love that you expressed towards her.

The ego comes back into the soulless body however, telling you that it was her fault all this time. You want to believe it. You really do. The hints were clear as day. You were just too caught up with your own point of view. The view of you both being madly in love with one another while in reality, it was only on your side.

You didn't even know what exactly went wrong. The other day, you were in an hour-long call with her, listening intently about all her stress at work, calming her down with words of encouragement and ended the night by tucking her into bed, like you always do. It's crucial for you to never miss wishing her days in the morning and at night, even with how busy your life can get.

If only you knew how useless they were to her.

The further you walk on these sidewalks, the deeper the pain feels. Suddenly, your hands sense an urge to open the box, letting you see the content inside—a ring. Engraved on it is the date of when you two first intertwined with one another, and it twists your stomach the more you look upon it.

25.5.20 HYJ

You laugh.

Bullshit. It's all bullshit.

No one's around to give a damn about you. Not like you need anyone anyways. You’ve accepted the fact that you're always gonna be alone. She didn't even try to find you, even after you’ve seen the truth. Maybe there's still a shed of light behind the things she had done. But with the way things are, you despise believing it.

“Sorry, but I don't think I’m ready yet.”

Yeah, of course she's not.

She wouldn't be fucking with another man if she was.

The air was cold. Colder than it usually is. It doesn't phase you. You're used to this—the freezing atmosphere is your favorite scene to have a walk with her back then, in the midst of dawn, hand in hand while she’s covered with your coat and holding you ever so tightly, not wanting to let go because you're her only source of warmth, as she claims.

Now, the flame has lost its spark, and the warmth has diminished, nowhere to be felt by anyone again.

She doesn’t love you.

Your eyes twitched, remembering the scene that unfolded hours before—the exact reason that you fell into despair. The street lamps blurred, but your memory was not at all, and you just wished for it to disappear off of your mind. But it couldn’t. The cut was too deep. Deep as she’s sinking down on another man’s dick, riding away enthusiastically, not realizing that you’re watching them in shock and horror.

Your body trembles in both fear and rage. You wanted to do something—confront them, punch this bastard directly in their face, end their life even—but you can’t move. Not because you’re tied up. Not because you’re threatened. It’s because of her. Her expressions. That darned smile, begging for more. Her eyes rolling back in pleasure, holding him so tightly while her hips move expertly onto him. She’s enjoying the moment. More than any of your moments together.

“Why…” was the only thing you could utter, before leaving the scene.

The grip on the box tightens so much that you could almost break it. It’s a useless piece of garbage at this point. Your head turns, looking at the water below—an endless void. The wind whistled through, ripples emerging to sign that it’s really there, quietly. Waiting. Inviting.

The railing disappears from your view.

There was no rush.

You simply fall.

The cold hits you like a wall, shocking the air from your lungs. Water rushed into your mouth, the taste bitter and thick. You begin to sink, and for a second, panic shoots through your brain. Your hands flapped around desperately, reaching out for the light.

Though, the words echoed in your ear, “Sorry, but I don't think I’m ready yet.” Your hands get weaker. What are you reaching out for anyway? Towards more pain and emptiness? Suffering in silence, as you watch the love of your life being taken away? Why do you need to care anymore? What was the point? To live?

She’s gone.

You stopped struggling.

The water pressed you in further from all sides. The tingling cold now turns into a heavy numbness all over your body. Your vision starts getting murky, and the light above fades as you sink deeper. Pressure builds inside of your head and lungs.

Suddenly, the box has left your hands and floats away. The little bits of hope inside of you tried to retrieve it, but it wasn’t enough. And instead, it perfectly moves right in front of your view. It’s like fate wants to give you a proper send off.

In an instant, all of your life flashes in your eyes. It has finally settled in. You reached out to the box before it sank and took the ring out. A tiny spark in the middle of this void. You held onto it tightly,

Why?

Your instincts drove you to do so.

And as fate wills it, it was the start of the next day.

You opened your mouth. Not to breathe. You’re letting go.

The water does what it does—filling itself into your chest, putting out the small flame and replacing it with emptiness. You didn’t wanna struggle anymore. You’ve accepted your fate.

The light finally vanished.

Your world darkens.

Happy birthday, Hwang Yeji. I wish you nothing but happiness.

Maybe, it was all an illusion.

And if it was, you’ll never come back to it.

The vessel died a long time ago.

But the dream still lives.

The dawn is imminent.

You're halfway there.

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a/n; from a tavern prompt to a reasonable short continuation. gets a little fucked up soooo be warned? i swear it's important to the story-

anyways, this was a part of a challenge i hosted on fanprose for beloved yejer's birthday! so if you see a sudden resurgence of yeji fics as of late, it was all me. :D

and don't worry, i'm still working on that series and a bunch of other stuff, it's just that i've been unexpectedly busy as of late, so production will be halted at some point in times 💀

all in all, thanks for reading and have a good one! <3

[bunnsfw]

Hannya: Act I 堕落 (Daraku) - The Fall

Summary: You looked like a man doing math you didn't want to do. Then she sat down and made the equation worse.

Tags: Tsuki (Billlie) x Male Reader (Named OC) | Wordcount: 8,390~ | Supernatural, Smut, Corporate Drama

A/N: My name is Hinode Akihiro. Bunn graciously put ink to paper to write my story; took him months, I've heard, and he's not done yet (smh). A warning: it's not flattering at all; I'm at my lowest, okay?! I made bad decisions in a hotel suite and worse ones in a networking event. (Don't ask, just read.) One more thing: you'll be reading this from inside my head. I'd apologize, but Tsuki said you'd enjoy it. (You'll see what she means.) Leave a comment whenever you think I fucked up or said something you agree with; I promise I'll read them. Tell me at the end if you'd have done anything differently. And if I understand it right, Tsuki also said she'll reply if it compels her. -日の出 明宏

Recommend Reading This On Fanprose.

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Seven pounds.

Who knew twelve years in a company only weighs seven pounds in a box filled with memories of getting spitroasted day and night by CFOs when they are the ones who fucked up.

“It was a pleasure working with you Hinode-san. This is what’s best for everyone. You know that, right?”

That’s what Yamamoto-san said this morning. All you can do is nod. He shook your hand. Couldn’t even meet your eyes. Asshole. 

HR slid the NDA across the table. Fourteen pages of legal garbage establishing that you had nothing to do with any of this which really makes you wonder why you’re the one carrying the box. You signed it. Of course you did. What else can you do? 

It was going well. Corner office. On track for partner. Six months from the vote.

Now you’re carrying a box past security. “Tanaka-san.”

You’ve known him for nine years. He’s giving you nothing. Not even a glance.

“See you around, yeah?”

Nine Christmases of bringing him coffee because he pulled holiday shifts so the younger guys could stay home. You know his daughter’s birthday (never missed giving her a gift.) You know his wife cooks the best okonomiyaki in Chiyoda (god you’re going to miss the bentos she prepares for everyone every summer). Tanaka-san is a good man.

But now? He’s staring blankly into his desk like it holds the secrets to the universe. Sigh.

You don’t blame him. You wouldn’t look at you either.

The revolving door spits you out into Tokyo’s buzzing October air. Risk of rain and umbrellas and exhaust and the distinct smell of a man who used to fucking matter.

Your car is three blocks away. You start walking.

Phone buzzes, you ignore it. It’s been buzzing all day actually. Past clients, colleagues, and the occasional journalist fishing for a comment on the “developing situation at Ishikawa & Partners.” Noted. Fuck that specifically. No comment. 

Here’s what’s funny. In all of this fuckery happening within the company, becoming this week’s hot topic on social media, and the ongoing federal interrogation. All that and news flash: you were not even remotely close to being involved.

You didn’t know the partners were signing off on fraudulent audits. The machinery of corruption humming along beneath your feet: shell companies, kickbacks, under-the-table transactions that got approved for the better part of a decade. 

The worst part of all of this is you just worked there. You worked your fucking ass off every single day. You were great at your job; and now you’re walking through downtown with a box containing an Ikea desk lamp, three framed certifications, and a coffee mug your sister gave you that says “World’s Most Meh Brother.”

She thought she was being funny. Right now why the hell does it feel like she knew this was gonna happen.

Your footsteps echo as you walk through the cold parking lot. The Lexus sits where you left it this morning, back when you were still a senior manager at a prestigious firm and not whatever you are now.

Unemployable. 

(Kinda being too dramatic, no? Are you being dramatic? Name one firm that will touch you now.)

…

Yeah. It’s over. Might as well pivot to becoming a geologist since you’ve hit rock bottom.

You were not fired, technically (thank god for technicalities). You resigned, which is its own kind of joke if you think about it. You resigned because the alternative was getting laid the fuck off in the first wave of “restructuring,” and at least this way you can pretend you had some say in your own downward spiral.

Everyone knows. Everyone. Fucking. Knows.

The financial world is small, news travels fast, and by tomorrow your name will be permanently welded to the biggest accounting scandal since Polaris (and that company’s done fucked up stuff: military corruption, ties to the yakuza, basically all the red flags you can think of.) Not because you did anything wrong; because you were there. 

You put the box in the trunk. Close it. Stand there with your hand on the cold metal. Let out a deep sigh.

Phone buzzes again.

This time you look. Mom.

How did it go today Aki?

We’re praying for you.

Hope you’re doing fine.

Have you eaten yet?

Four messages in the span of thirty seconds. She must be worried, classic mom. You should call her. You should explain what happened. You should…

Phone screen darkens. 

You’ll call her tomorrow; explain that the severance is generous, that you have savings, that everything will be fine.

But not tonight. Not when the wounds are fresh.

Tonight you’re going to find a bar and drink until the numbers stop adding up in your head.

✦⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

You found a newly opened hotel in Shinjuku. The hotel bar is the kind of place that caters to shady accounts and dark secrets, you fit right in. Dark mahogany wood, warm ambient lighting, and thankfully a bartender who understands that sometimes a man needs to be served and just left alone with his bourbon.

It’s the third glass when she sits down. You feel the air thin out; must be the bourbon.

Weird.

You didn’t see anyone approaching. Didn’t hear the stool move. She’s just there, like she’s been waiting for you to notice.

Except you don’t notice her at first. 

You’re too busy staring at amber liquid, running calculations that don’t matter anymore: How much runway? Severance lasts eight months if you’re careful. Savings? Maybe another year. Parents? They definitely need the monthly support; that’s a non-negotiable. Your sister’s final year of graduate school? You promised you’d cover it, and you don’t break promises.

The numbers work, barely. As long as you find something to do in six months.

But who the fuck is going to hire you?

“You look like a man who’s doing math he doesn’t want to do.” Soft voice, slightly amused.

You look up.

She’s watching you with her dark eyes that catch the bar’s low light wrong. Pretty isn’t the word, neither is beautiful. There’s something more specific than that. Features that shouldn’t work together but create a face you can’t stop looking at. For now you settle with otherworldly.

Full lips, the kind that suggests smiles she hasn’t given you permission to receive yet. Hair dark enough to disappear into the shadows behind her. A simple black dress that definitely cost more than this month’s rent.

“Just… Running some projections,” you say. Your voice is rough, haven’t talked to a soul in hours.

“Mhmm.” She signals the bartender without looking at him. “Projections for what?”

“How long until I’m sleeping under a bridge, roughly.” (You wish you were joking.)

She laughs. Small, controlled, her face changes for a second; something flickers behind her eyes. Interest, maybe. 

“You don’t look like the bridge-sleeping type.”

“I didn’t think I was the unemployed type either, but here we are.”

The bartender sets down red wine. She picks it up, swirls it, and doesn’t drink. Pretty sure he didn’t ask what she wanted. Just set it down like he already knew.

Weird.

You’re three bourbons deep, maybe you just missed her order. Maybe she’s a regular. Maybe… 

“Ishikawa & Partners,” she says confidently. Your body tenses. “It’s on your face,” she shifts on her seat inching towards you. “That’s the kind of devastation that comes from watching something you built get burned down by people who never appreciated it. Never appreciated you.”

You take a drink, the bourbon doesn’t burn anymore. Fuck, probably a bad sign. You should probably stop drinking.

“I didn’t build anything. I just worked there.”

“For twelve years. You don’t stay somewhere for twelve years unless you’re building something.”

You didn’t tell her anything about the twelve years. You’re sure you didn’t; but the bourbon is thick in your head and she’s already moving on, and maybe you did mention it. Maybe.

She tilts her head. “What were you?”

“Senior manager, on track to become a partner.” The words taste like ash. “Six months from the vote. Then… Well, then this morning happened.”

“Ah.” She finally sips her wine. “So you didn’t just lose a job, you lost a future.”

Something in your chest tightens. First time anyone worded it correctly.

“Yeah,” you say. “Something like that.”

She’s quiet. The bar continues to hum around you. Low conversations, clinking glasses, someone’s muted laughter from a booth in the corner. Sounds from a world that kept moving while yours stopped.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Akihiro. Hinode.”

“Akihiro.” She rolls it around her mouth like she’s tasting it. “I’m Tsuki.”

“Just Tsuki?”

“For now.” That almost-smile again. “Are you always this suspicious of women who talk to you in bars, Akihiro?”

“I’m not usually the type women talk to in bars.”

“No,” She looks at you; eyes you up and down. Past the rumpled suit and the stubble that’s been growing and the distinct slump of a man who’s visually given up. “I don’t suppose you are. But tonight’s not usual, is it?”

It isn’t. Nothing about tonight is usual. Nothing about this woman is usual.

She shifts on her stool and you notice things. The way her dress catches the light (it doesn’t.) The curve of her neck where it meets her shoulder. Her lips… Which you keep looking at like a goddamn teenager who’s never seen a woman before.

Get it together Akihiro. You’re a grown man, you’ve flirted before. You know how this works, right? (It’s futile, you’re still looking at her lips.)

“You should eat something,” she says.

“Not hungry.”

“You’re also not sober. Eat something anyway.”

There’s no reason to listen to her. She’s a stranger; an otherworldly stranger who appeared out of nowhere to comment on your tragedy, which is either a fantasy or a warning sign, and you’re too drunk to tell which.

You signal the bartender and order some fries anyway.

Tsuki lets out a genuine smile that contrasts the calculated smiles she’s been giving you all night. It changes her whole face. Makes her look younger and more dangerous at the same time.

“Good,” she says. “I like a man who can take directions.”

“I don’t usually… I usually…”

“I know.”

Something in her voice makes you pause. I know. As if she actually is certain. As if she’s been watching you longer than the ten minutes since she appeared.

The fries arrive. You eat them without tasting much, but she’s right. The food helps, you’re famished. The room steadies. Your thoughts start to sharpen from blur to something approaching clarity.

“So what happens now?” Tsuki asks. “The projections. The math that’s happening in your head. What’s your plan?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Everyone has a plan Akihiro. Even if it’s just ‘survive until tomorrow.’”

You consider this. The alcohol wants you to lie and to perform competence; to pretend you’ve got this handled. But something about her makes lying feel pointless, like she’d see through it anyway.

“I’ll call in favors,” you say. “I have contacts. People who know what I’m capable of, separate from—” you gesture vaguely, trying to encompass the scandal, the firm, and the entire smoking crater of your career “—all that. I’ll reach out to all of them. See who’s still willing to give me a chance.”

“And if no one answers?”

“Then I figure something else out. I always do.”

She nods slowly, swirling her wine. Her lips still haven’t touched her glass.

“The people who did this to you Akihiro,” she says. “The partners, the ones who were actually behind all of this. Where are they tonight? What are they doing?”

The question catches you off guard; you hadn’t thought about it. You’re too busy counting your own losses.

“I don’t know. Home… Probably. Consulting with their own set of lawyers, planning their defense.”

“So they’re comfortable, then.”

“I guess.”

“Sneaking out with their mistresses. Eating dinner with their families. Sleeping in their own comfy bed. Not sitting in a hotel bar at…” she glances at her watch “...eleven-thirty on a Tuesday, doing math about potential airbnb bridges.”

You don’t say anything. You can’t. But the bourbon is wearing off and the emotion replacing it is uglier.

She then considers her glass. Looks at it for a beat, then back at you.

“Does that bother you?” she asks. “That they are comfortable and you’re here?”

“I don’t…” You stop. Start again. “What they did wasn’t personal. They didn’t do this to me. They just did it, and I unfortunately got caught in the blast radius.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Her eyes are fixed on yours. Dark, direct, steady, and somehow warmer than they should be; given what she’s asking.

“Yes,” you say finally. “It bothers me.”

“Good.” She finishes her wine in one swallow then sets the glass down. “It should.”

She stands, and you realize she’s leaving. The panic that shoots through you is irrational. She’s a stranger, you just met her. What the fuck is wrong with you?

“Wait,” you say. “Where are you…”

“I have a room upstairs.” She says it casually. “I was going to invite you, but you seem like the type who needs to be asked directly. So I’m asking.”

The words hang there. Huh? What is even happening right now? Your brain, which has spent twelve years analyzing risk and calculating probability, offers no useful input whatsoever.

“I’m not…” you start, but you don’t know how to finish. The kind of man who goes to hotel rooms with pretty strangers. You can’t make small talk right now. You’re not even sure what’s left in you to feel except this gray void that’s been eating you all day.

“You’re not what?” Tsuki asks patiently. Clearly amused at the broken man in front of her.

“I’m just a mess right now.”

“I noticed.” She holds out her hand. Slender fingers, nails painted red so dark it’s almost black. “Come anyway.”

You look at her hand. At her face. At her lips, curved into a shape that should look like a smile but isn’t quite there yet.

Every logical part of you is screaming that this is a bad idea. You are drunk, you are vulnerable, you don’t know this woman, and the last thing you need is to add “poor decisions with pretty strangers” to your ever growing list of recent failures.

Then you think: The logical parts of your brain are the parts that got you here. Twelve years of doing everything by the book; look where it landed you. Fuck it.

You take her hand.

✦⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

The elevator ride is silent. 

Her hand stays in yours. Small, warm, surprisingly smooth all throughout. You notice her features in the harsh overhead light that you missed in the bar’s dimness: The exact shape of her collarbones beneath the thin silky fabric of her dress. Her breathing pattern, slow, even, and completely controlled.

Actually, it’s almost too controlled. Her pulse should be racing; heck, yours is. When your thumb brushes her wrist, there’s nothing. It beats steady and slow. Not one bit nervous.

Then you go back to her lips. You can’t stop looking at her lips. Some shade between rose and wine that you couldn’t name but won’t forget. You’re wondering if you’re ever going to get a taste of—

“You’re staring,” she says.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” The elevator dings. Doors open. “Just know that I see you doing it.”

The hallway is long, ominous, and quiet. Thick carpet swallows your footsteps. You pass a decorative alcove, traditional masks mounted on the wall. One catches your eye: a woman’s face, features twisted between anguish and rage, small horns emerging from the forehead. Beautiful and terrible.

Tsuki ignores it, doesn’t even react. But her hand tightens in yours, just slightly, as you pass.

She produces a keycard from somewhere. You didn’t see her carrying a purse. She opens a door near the end.

The room is a suite. Large and expensive; totally out of your budget right now. It’s the kind of room someone books when money isn’t a concern. Floor-to-ceiling windows look out over the city, Tokyo lights glittering in the darkness.

You’re barely through the door when she turns and her lips clash into yours. 

Her mouth is hot and demanding, her hands fisting in your jacket, pulling you closer with a strength that surprises you. She tastes like red wine, exactly how you imagined, and there’s an aftertaste underneath it; something dark and sweet and sinful. 

Fuck it.

You return the favor and kiss her back with the same intensity. Your hands find her waist, the curve of her hips through the thin fabric. She makes a sound against your mouth that’s between a moan and a laugh.

“Good boy,” she breathes. “There you are.”

She pushes you backward until your legs hit the bed. You sit with your whole weight, and she stands over you, looking down. The lighting behind her turns her into a bewitching silhouette, edges glowing, face in shadow.

“Take them off.”

You do.

Jacket first. Tie follows, then shirt when she gestures impatiently. Cool air brushes upon your bare chest, but her gaze is hot enough to compensate.

“Lie back.”

You do that too.

There is something about the way she gives orders that makes refusal feel moot, it feels inevitable.

She climbs onto the bed. Straddles you without touching, her knees bracketing your hips, her weight hovering just above yours. The hem of her dress rides up, revealing thighs that are toned and milky and smooth and close enough to touch if you just…

You reach for her.

“No.” She catches your wrists. Her grip is stronger than it should be. Not painful, but immovable. “Hands on the headboard.”

“What?”

“Put your hands on the headboard, and keep them there.”

You reach back and your fingers find cold metal bars. You grip them, and she smiles. That smile again, the one that puts you in a trance meant to obey her every word.

“Good boy.”

Then she lowers herself slowly. Just enough that you can feel the heat of her through the fabric of your slacks but not enough to give you any real friction.

You let out a sound between a groan and a whimper. Your hips try to lift, to chase the contact, but she rises with you, maintaining the exact distance she’s chosen.

“None of that.” Her voice is light, conversational, as if she isn’t torturing you. “Stay still. You take what I give you.”

“But Tsuki I…”

“Shhhh~”

She leans forward. 

Her lips slowly brush your neck, then your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. Barely there; teasing. When you turn your head to try and capture her in a real kiss, she pulls back just far enough to deny you.

“Tsuki…”

You hear her breathe in.

“You smell like bourbon,” she murmurs against your throat. “And desperation but underneath all that, something interesting.”

Her hips roll. Once. A slow grind that drags a groan out of you despite yourself. She’s pressed against you now, heat and pressure and the thin barrier of clothing between you.

“That’s better.” Her breath is warm against your ear. “I wondered if you were still in there. If there was anything left under all that devastation.”

“I’m—”

“You’re very pretty when you’re falling apart.” She bites your earlobe. “Did you know that?”

Her hands work at your belt. She’s efficient, unhurried, and not wasting any time. She draws down the zipper, and the relief of pressure makes you gasp. Then her fingers wrap around you through your boxers, and your brain shortcircuits.

“There we go.” She strokes slowly, firmly, the fabric adding friction that borders on too much. “There’s my broken man.”

Usually you’d be offended by that. You should feel used, manipulated, reduced to something less than yourself—a plaything. But her hand is moving and her lips are tracing patterns on your throat and all you can feel is the desperate need for more.

“Please,” you hear yourself say.

“Please what?”

“More. I need…”

“I know what you need.” She pulls back. Your cock twitches at the loss of contact. “But you haven’t earned it yet.”

Before you can respond, she shifts down your body. Her fingers hook into the waistband of your boxers and pull them down; just enough to free you. The air is cool and you’re achingly throbbing hard.

“Not bad,” she says. Like your dignity isn’t spilling across the hotel sheets. “A little distracted, maybe. A little too in your head.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” She traces one finger along your length. Base to the underside then to your tip, feather-light. “You’re thinking about tomorrow, about the phone calls you need to make, the bridges you need to rebuild, the hundred small humiliations waiting for you when you walk out of this room; about everything except what’s right in front of you.”

She’s right. Even now, even with her hand on your aching cock, some part of your brain is still doing the math, calculating the odds, preparing for the worst.

“Let me help you with that,” she says.

She lowers her head. Takes her time. You watch her descend. Her dark hair falling forward, her breath warm against your stomach, your hip bone, the crease of your thigh. Deliberately avoiding your cock, which twitches and strains toward her.

“Look at you,” she murmurs against your skin. “So eager. So hungry.”

Her tongue traces a line from your hip to your inner thigh. You shudder.

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this? Really took their time with you and not just going through the motions.”

You can’t answer, can’t even remember. Your last relationship ended two years ago, the reason: Mutual exhaustion, on brand, both of you too busy building careers to build anything else. Since then, nothing. 

You hadn’t realized how starved you are for touch until now.

“That long?” She sounds amused. Her lips brush the base of your cock, and you make a sound that you don’t even want to name. “Poor thing.”

Her lips close around you. Just the tip, just enough to make you jerk against the headboard. Her mouth is hot, impossibly hot, and wet, and impossibly soft, her tongue swirling over your cockhead in patterns that should be illegal in several prefectures.

You’ve had blowjobs before, but whatever she’s doing with her tongue; your entire education has not prepared you for this.

For one perfect second, there’s nothing in your head except the sensation of her.

Then she pulls off then sits back. She wipes the corner of her mouth with one elegant finger.

“No,” you say. It comes out pathetic and broken. “Please don’t stop…”

“You taste like need.” She tilts her head. “Like someone who’s been empty for a very long time and didn’t even notice until just now.”

“Tsuki—”

“Shhhh.” She rises onto her knees. Her hands go to the thin straps of her dress, and she slides them down her shoulders excruciatingly slow. Revealing inch after inch of her perfect porcelain skin.

The dress falls to her waist. You want to touch her more than you’ve wanted anything in recent memory. Your hands twitch against the headboard.

“Stay,” she says. Like you’re a dog. Like you’d do anything she asked as long as she kept looking at you like that.

(You would. You’d bark too if she asked for it. That’s the terrifying part.)

She reaches back. The dress slithers down her hips, and she’s naked above you. Toned limbs and soft curves and that face, watching you with dark eyes reflecting nothing and seeing everything.

Her tits are fuller than you expected. Ample, perfectly shaped, nipples erect making your mouth water. You want to taste them. You want to taste every inch of her.

“You look like you yearn for my touch,” she says. 

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

She laughs, low and pleased. “You’re getting greedy. I like that.”

She takes your hand releasing it from the headboard, and brings it to her chests. Your fingers curve around the soft weight of her tits. She shivers. Just slightly; a crack in her composure.

“Like this,” she says. “Gently, like you’re learning every part of me.”

You are; making an inventory of every stimulus: The texture of her skin. The give of her mounds in your palm. The way her nipples harden against your touch. She guides your thumb across it, and her breath catches. You hear a small sound forced out of her.

“Good,” she croons. “That’s good.”

She lets you explore her with both hands now: The dip of her waist. The flare of her hips. The surprising softness of her inner thighs. You take your time, learning every curve, every part of her where your touch makes her breath trickle in intervals.

You lean up to press your lips to her collarbone, slowly tasting her; expensive rose margarita, floral notes with hints of salt. You can’t get enough of it so you continue tasting her. She doesn’t stop you this time. Her fingers thread through your hair, holding you there, letting you trace your mouth down to her decadent breasts.

You take her nipple in your mouth.

The sound she makes; low, involuntary, almost a moan. It sends electricity through you. She tastes clean, faintly sweet, definitely addicting. You roll the other nipple between your fingers, and her hips jerk against you.

“Careful,” she breathes. But she doesn’t pull away. Her hand tightens in your hair.

You worship her. There’s absolutely no other word for it. You learn the weight of her plush tits, the exact shade of those nipples, the way she gasps when you graze them with your teeth. You memorize the curve of her ribs, the softness of her stomach, the trail of heat your mouth leaves down her body.

When you reach the crease of her thigh, she stops you.

“Not yet.” Her voice rougher now. Less controlled. “Lie back Akihiro.”

You do.

She shifts down your body, and you feel her everywhere. The brush of her hair against your chest, her tits dragging across your stomach, her breath warm against your hip.

She takes you in her hand.

“Let me give this a taste,” she says as her eyes linger at your aching cock. “I want to know what you feel and taste like on my tongue.”

Before you can respond, she lowers her head. “Mhmm~”

Her mouth closes around you slowly. Going beyond the tip this time. She takes you deeper, inch by inch, her tongue tracing the underside of your shaft as she descends. Wet heat and gentle suction and the sight of her. Those lips stretched around you, her dark eyes looking up through her lashes, watching your face break apart as she swallows the whole of you down.

“God.” The word forced out of you.

She pulls back just as slowly. Her tongue swirls over your head, dipping into the slit and you can feel yourself leaking endlessly onto her tongue. She hums and the vibration nearly sends you over the edge.

“Now, you taste like want,” she murmurs against your throbbing cock. “Like someone who’s forgotten what it feels like to be touched.”

She takes you again, much deeper. You feel the back of her throat, feel her swallow around you, and your hands fist in the sheets because you’re not allowed to touch her head. You know that without being told.

She sets a rhythm designed to devour you. Slow, deliberate strokes that build pressure without release. Every time you get close to the climax, every time you feel yourself teetering on the edge, she pulls back. Lets the sensation fade. Then starts again.

“Tsuki, please—”

“Please what?”

“I need—”

“I know what you need.” She releases you with a wet pop. Your cock bobs against your stomach, wet and covered with her saliva, aching. “But you haven’t earned it yet.”

She crawls up your body. Positions herself so she’s straddling you, her heat hovering just above your desperate erection. You can feel her. How wet she is, the slick of her cunt, evidence of her own arousal painting the head of your cock as she slowly shifts.

“Do you want it inside?” she asks.

“Yes.” The word comes out broken. “Please. God. Yes.”

She reaches down. Takes your length in her hand. Guides you until you’re pressed against her entrance. Wet, incredibly hot, the promise of her right there.

She doesn’t let you in.

Instead, she rocks. A slow, torturous grind that slides your cock through her folds, coating you in her arousal, the head catching against her clit on every pass. She shudders when it does. Small tremors that tell you she’s not as unaffected as she pretends.

“Feel that?” she whispers. “Feel how wet you make me?”

You can.

The slick glide of her against you. The heat that radiates from her. The way her lips part around your shaft without quite taking you in. Just barely. Everything you want, just out of reach.

“Let me,” you beg. Your hands find her hips, trying to pull her down. “Tsuki, please, let me—”

“No.”

She grinds harder. Your cock continues to slide through her silky folds, grazing against her clit, and she gasps. Unguarded. Her eyes flutter closed for just a second.

“Not tonight,” she manages. “Tonight you learn to want.”

“I already want—”

“Not like this.” She increases her pace. The friction is maddening. It’s driving you insane how slick and hot and so close you are to what you need. “Tonight you learn what it feels like to burn for something you can’t have.”

You’re going to come. You can feel your climax building. That inevitable pressure. Just from this. Just from the slide of her against you, the heat of her, the promise of a depth you’re not yet allowed to reach.

“Tsuki—I’m going to—”

She slows. Doesn’t lift away. Hovers. Her hand finds your jaw, turns your face toward hers.

“Tell me one thing first.”

Your brain is static. “What?”

“About yourself. Not what you did at Ishikawa. Not the career. Something true.”

You can’t think. You’ll say anything to get her to keep moving. The words come out before you decide to say them.

“I’ve been waiting for something like this. An excuse to start over. I just didn’t want it to cost me my career.”

Her almost-smile. Genuine, this time. Cracked through with something you can’t read.

“Good boy.”

She stops. Lifts herself away.

The loss of contact is physically painful. Your cock throbs against the cold air, slick and desperate. You make a sound that might be a sob, or at least close to one.

This is it. This is how you die. Not from career destruction or public humiliation, but from a gorgeous stranger edging you in a hotel room. The obituary page is going to be amazing.

“Shhhh.” She strokes your chest. Almost tender. “Breathe.”

“I can’t—”

“Yes you can. Breathe with me.”

You breathe. Ragged, broken, but you do it anyway. The urgency recedes. Barely. Just enough to keep you from spilling onto your own stomach.

“Good boy.” She rewards you by shifting back down, taking you in her mouth again. One slow stroke, base to tip, her tongue tracing the vein on the underside of your cock. Then she releases you.

“Want a taste?”

The words don’t register at first. Your brain is static. Especially after that last assault.

“What?”

“I want your mouth on me.” She moves up your body, positions herself over your face. “I want to feel your tongue inside me while you’re aching for what you can’t have.”

You look up at her. Her thighs frame your vision (you save this mental image into the deepest folds of your brain in high quality).

She’s glistening in the low city light, every wet inch of her catching the windowpane glow. Swollen and pink. Her scent hits you. Musky and sweet and intoxicating.

“Open your mouth,” she says.

You do. She lowers herself onto you.

The first taste of her is overwhelming. She’s hot against your tongue, slick and swollen, and when you trace the length of her slit, she shudders above you.

“That’s it,” she breathes. “Just like that.”

You eat her like she’s the first meal you’ve had in years. You learn the topography of her. Her soft luxurious folds, the hard pearl of her clit, the entrance that clenches when you press your tongue inside. She tastes like desire made physical. She feels like a sin you’re willing to commit.

Her hips rock against your face. Chasing your tongue, grinding down when you find the right spot. The sounds she makes are arriving faster now. 

“Your mouth,” she gasps. “God, your mouth.”

You focus on her clit. Gentle pressure, then more, reading her responses. When you suck, she cries out. You then flick your tongue in quick patterns, her thighs start to tremble.

You’re painfully hard beneath her: neglected, desperate, and somehow that makes this better. Your own need gets amplified with every sensation, every taste, every sound she lets out.

She’s close. Her movement doesn’t hide it well, the way her legs tighten around your head, her moans rising an octave higher, leaving her breathless.

Then she pulls away.

“No.” She’s panting now. Flushed. Her composure cracked but not broken. “No. That’s enough.”

“Let me finish—”

“No.” She climbs off you. Stands beside the bed. Trembling slightly, her voice is still steady. “That’s what tonight is about.”

You lie there, aching. Covered in the taste and scent of her. Your cock leaking with need.

“What is tonight about then?” Your voice sounds wrecked. You don’t care.

She looks at you. Something flickers in her eyes, almost like regret.

“Tonight is about you learning what you want,” she says. “And remembering that you’re still capable of wanting it.”

She reaches for her dress.

“What are you…” 

“That’s enough for tonight.” She pulls it on, covering all that perfect skin. “You did well Akihiro.”

“I didn’t-we didn’t-”

“No.” She looks at you over her shoulder. “We didn’t. That’s the point.”

You’re still hard, still aching, and still covered in her.

“Why?” you ask.

She walks back to the bed. Sits on the edge. Reaches out and traces a finger along your jaw. Gentle and almost affectionate.

“Because you came here to feel nothing,” she says. “And I wanted to show you that you can’t. That underneath all that careful numbness, there’s still something alive.”

“That’s…”

“Cruel? Maybe.” She leans in. Presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. Pulls back before you can deepen it. “But I think you needed cruelty tonight Akihiro. I think you needed someone to remind you that you’re not dead yet.”

You don’t have an answer. You just lie there while your eyes are glued to her; continue to taste her in your mouth.

She stands. And like a magic trick she produces a business card from somewhere and sets it on the nightstand.

“There’s a shower through here. Hot water. Good pressure. Help yourself. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

“Tsuki…”

“You’ll see me again.” She pauses at the door. That almost-smile playing on her lips. “The people who did this to you, Akihiro. They’re sleeping comfortably tonight. Doesn’t that bother you? Fight.”

Then she’s gone.

✦⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

You stand in the shower for what feels like eternity. You let the water flow. The shower water is scalding, but you stay under it anyway. It reddens your skin. You let it sear away whatever the hell just happened. Because the moment you took her hand, you knew you were cooked.

You came here to feel nothing. She’d said that like she knew. Like she’d seen right through you from the moment she appeared.

She’s right.

You’d wanted oblivion. Bourbon and bad decisions and the emptiness that comes from surrendering control. Instead, she’d given you something worse: she’d made you feel. She made you reach for desire, and frustration, and something raw, and desperate that you’d been burying since Tanaka-san wouldn’t meet your eyes.

She’d forced you open, looked at what was inside, and walked away.

Your body still aches; arousal denied, muscles tensed for a release that never came. You can still taste her. That salty-sweet musk you’d swallowed like a man dying of thirst. You can still feel the spectral weight of her on your face, her thighs nestled against your cheeks.

You wrap your hand around yourself. The water beats down on your back. You stroke once, twice…

And stop.

It feels wrong, unfinished business that shouldn’t be finished alone. She’d denied you for a reason. You don’t understand the reason yet, but completing the act yourself feels like cheating. Like letting her down.

What the fuck is wrong with you?!

You turn off the water. Wrap a towel around your waist. Walk back into the room that still smells faintly of her. Wine and a looming presence of something darker.

The people who did this to you. They’re sleeping comfortably tonight.

The business card is still on the nightstand. Just a phone number. No name.

You pick it up. Turn it over. Nothing on the back.

Your phone is still off; you could turn it on. Finally face the music: all the unread messages, the missed calls, the reality waiting to tear you apart.

Instead, you lie down on the bed that still holds the ghost of her body. Close your eyes. Try to remember the exact taste of her lips. Replay all the stored images in your head.

You don’t sleep. But when the sun finally rises, pale and gray through the windows, you’re still thinking about her question.

Doesn’t that bother you?

Yes.

It fucking does.

✦⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

Three days later

There’s a networking event at a hotel downtown. It’s a different hotel but the same species of desperation. Fifty people in business casual, circulating with drinks and business cards, pretending they’re not all acutely aware of who’s up and who’s down.

You’re down, you’re obviously at the gutter, and everyone by now knows it.

You can see it in how conversations pause when you approach, the slight stiffening of shoulders, the bright smiles that don’t reach anyone’s eyes. People you’ve known for years. All of them have discovered fascinating things to look at on the opposite side of the room.

Plague carrier. That’s what you are now. They brought back social distancing and you are patient zero.

Three days since Tsuki left you aching in that room. Three days of phone calls that go to voicemail, emails that don’t get responses, and the slow realization that your network; twelve years of carefully cultivated ‘relationships’, has been quarantined along with your career.

You’re on your second club soda. Trying to stay sharp, proving something to yourself. 

Then she appears.

She doesn’t approach. She just shows up, like she stepped out of the gap between one second and the next. One second the space beside you is empty. The next, she’s there.

“You look better than last time,” she says.

She looks different. Hair down loose curls. Off-shoulder black gown. She looks like she belongs, which means she definitely does not.

“How did you know I’d be here?”

“Mmhm. Lucky guess.” She plucks a canapé from a passing tray, looks at it, sets it back. “You’ve been busy. I saw you talking to that woman in white. And that startup founder, the one who still thinks ‘runway’ is something you build at an airport and ‘profit’ is a myth investors tell children at bedtime.”

You didn’t see her watching. You’re sure of that. You were scanning the room the whole time.

“Are you following me?”

“I’m helping you, Akihiro.” She nods toward a cluster of suits near the bar. “Blue tie. Kwon, Minjun. South Korean conglomerate money. He needs someone to handle a family restructuring, discreetly. The big firms won’t touch it. Lots of excuses: too complex and too messy and too many secrets.”

“And you know this how?”

“I’m Tsuki~ Also, people love talking and I am good at listening. People with a lot of secrets tend to be more chatty.” She’s already moving. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

The conversation with Kwon takes around fifteen minutes. She does most of the work; positioning you as exactly what he needs, someone outside the system, someone who understands discretion. By the end, he’s asking for your card and suggesting lunch next week.

When you turn to thank her, she’s gone. You look for her.

You find her in a service corridor off the main hall. She’s leaning against a wall, arms crossed, watching you approach like she knew exactly how long it would take.

“He’s very much interested in you,” she says. “You’ll have the account by Friday.”

“You set that up. The whole thing.”

“I initiated the conversation. You performed, and you performed extremely well.” She tilts her head. “You’re welcome.”

“Why do you do these things for me? What do you want from me?”

“Right now? She glances down the corridor: not a single soul, empty, no cameras in sight. She bites her lower lip. “I want your mouth.”

“That’s a lot to ask for just an introduction.”

“Is it?” She steps closer. “Fifteen minutes with the Kwon Minjun. A man who doesn’t take meetings with anyone below C-suite. I got you that with a smile and my pretty face.” Her fingers find your tie, straightens it. “My price seems pretty…reasonable.”

“And if I want to negotiate?”

“You’re not in the position to negotiate, Aki-kun. I have the upperhand here.” She says it like she’s explaining basic arithmetics. “You need clients and I just handed you one. The question isn’t whether you’ll pay. It’s whether you’ll do it well enough that I keep helping you.”

“And if I do it well?”

“Then maybe I’ll tell you something more about myself.” Her almost-smile. “After.”

“Before.”

“After, Akihiro-kun. Or never.”

You consider the corridor. The networking event you’re supposed to be attending. Her eyes that just lures you in the abyss of bad decisions.

While she watches you decide, she slowly lifts her arm; points toward the floor between her heels.

“On your knees, Akihiro-kun.” Her smile sharpens. “Let’s see how thorough you can be.”

The tile is cold and dirty and hard. You don’t care. She's gathering the tulle in one fist and hiking the gown up slowly, watching your face, enjoying the way your eyes track every inch of exposed thigh.

“You’ve been thinking about this,” she says. “How I taste. These past three days, lying in your bed, remembering how wet I was on your tongue.”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear. Black lace, barely there. She slides them down her thighs, steps out of them, tucks them into your jacket pocket. “Something to remember me by.”

Tulle bunched at her hips. She's bare underneath. Pink and glistening and close enough that you can smell her arousal. Your mouth waters.

“Look at you,” she murmurs. “So eager. So thirsty.” She traces a finger along your jaw. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to taste you.”

“Be more specific. Let it all out Aki-kun.”

“I want to lick your pussy until you cum on my face.”

The words come out before your brain can veto them. God, what’s wrong with you?!

Tsuki shivers just slightly. A crack in that perfect composure she’s trying so hard to maintain.

Okay. Dirty talk does work. Good to know.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You lean in. Press your eager lips to her inner thigh. She inhales sharply.

“Tease,” she breathes.

“I learned from the best.”

You take your time. Kissing up one thigh, then the other. Letting your breath ghost over where she wants you, never quite touching. She makes a frustrated sound, and her fingers find your hair.

“Akihiro…”

“You made me wait three days.” You’re so close now. You can see how wet she is, pink, glistening, slick and swollen, practically dripping. “You can wait three minutes.”

“I don’t…” She gasps as your tongue finally touches her. Just once. A slow, flat stroke from her entrance to her clit. “Fuck.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t like waiting.”

“You do now.”

You lick her again: Slower. Savoring. She tastes just like you remembered. Her hips buck toward your mouth, but you pull back enough to deny her the pressure she wants.

“You’re getting brave,” she manages.

“I’m getting even.”

You seal your lips around her clit and suck. She cries out. Loud. Extremely loud for a service corridor. It echoes over the length of it. Then her hand slaps over her mouth.

“Quiet,” you murmur against her. “Someone might hear.”

“You bastard.”

You slide two fingers inside her. She’s soaked, clenching around you immediately, her whole body jerking at the intrusion.

“God, you’re so wet.” You curl your fingers, searching. “You’ve been thinking about this too. Haven’t you?”

She doesn’t answer. Her thighs are shaking.

“Haven’t you?”

“Yes.” It comes out broken. “Yes, I-there, right there, don’t stop-”

You don’t stop. You finger fuck her and lick her clit in tight circles, the same rhythm, relentless. She’s grinding against your face now, chasing it, all the composure slowly but surely crumbling.

“You’re going to cum,” you tell her. “Right here in this hallway. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could see you like this. Gown around your hips, fucking yourself on my tongue.”

“Akihiro…”

“Now. Cum for me.”

She breaks.

Her whole body seizes, cunt clamping down on your fingers, thighs squeezing your head, the sound she makes is muffled by her hand but you can still hear it; raw, desperate, nothing like the controlled woman who manifested into that bar four days ago.

You work her through it. Slower now, gentler, drawing out every aftershock. She shudders repeatedly and you don’t pull away until she pushes at your shoulders.

“Enough.” She’s panting. Flushed. Her legs are visibly unsteady. “Enough.”

You sit back on your heels. Wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Your fingers are still drenched with her.

“Was that thorough enough?” you ask.

She stares at you. For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything. Just breathes. Then that smile returns, slower this time.

“You’re learning.”

She pushes off the wall. Smooths the gown back into place. Her legs are still trembling slightly, and the knowledge that you did that, that you made her shake, sends a hot pulse of satisfaction through you.

You’re achingly hard. She can see the visual outline of you straining against your slacks.

“What about…”

“No.” She’s composing herself. Running her fingers through her hair. “Not yet.”

“Tsuki.”

“You made me cum.” She steps closer. Looks down at the bulge in your pants. Presses her palm against it, just once, firm and fleeting. You make a strangled sound. “That’s more than most people get. Be grateful.”

“I want—”

“I know what you want.” She leans in. Her lips brush your ear. “You want to bend me over and fuck me until I scream. You want to fill me up and watch it drip out of me. You want to make me as desperate as you’ve been for the past four days.”

“Yes.”

“Mhmm.” She pulls back. Straightens your jacket. Her underwear is still in your pocket, damp against your chest. “Not yet.”

“When?”

“When I decide.” That smile again; dangerous and promising. “Now go back to the party. Smile at Kwon. Think about how good I tasted while you shake hands and make small talk.”

She’s walking away before you can respond.

You stand. Adjust your jacket. Fix yourself until you’re presentable before walking back to the party. Take a couple of seconds to breathe.

Her underwear is still in your pocket. You should do something about that. Put it somewhere. Throw it away. Anything other than keeping it like some kind of pervert trophy.

You don’t do anything about it, just transfer it inside the pocket lining of your jacket.

You enter the venue. Kwon catches your eye across the room. Raises his glass. You nod back and approach him.

Your phone buzzes.

Hinode-san. I’ve reached out a couple of times now. I understand you’ve signed an NDA. I’m not asking about Ishikawa this time. I’m inquiring about something else. Call when you’re ready.

You stare at the message. Something else. You don’t know what that means. The journalist’s byline was on the Polaris coverage last year (she totally fucked them up). The Bloomberg interview with the Blockberry whistleblower. Her pieces have a way of turning into criminal indictments.

You don’t answer.

Your phone buzzes again. Different number. Unknown with a weird handle.

般若: The Kwon family charity gala is Saturday. The daughter manages their venture fund. She’ll be looking for someone like you.

般若: Wear your navy suit. It fits you better than that gloomy excuse you have on.

You look around the room. She’s nowhere. Another buzz.

般若: You looked like you’re starting to believe in yourself

般若: I like that.

般若: Sleep well tonight, Akihiro-kun. You’ll need the energy.

You stare at the screen. The navy suit. She’s never seen your closet. She’s never been to your apartment.

You should be frightened. You should be calling the police, or a psychiatrist, or anyone who can explain how a woman you met a few days ago knows what suits you own.

Instead, you’re thinking about the sound she made when she came. The way her control cracked. The three seconds where she was just a woman shaking against your mouth.

You place your phone in your pocket.

You don’t sleep well that night. But when you close your eyes, you’re not thinking about the Kwon family, or your ruined career.

You’re thinking about her. You think about what she said.

The people who did this to you. They’re comfortable. Fight.

✦⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

A/N: So, you finally finished the first act. Good boy. How did you like it? How did you like me? You and I have more time together in the upcoming chapters; Bunn just needs a little convincing to write it faster. Leave a comment so he knows you want what's next. A like, a follow, a reprose. All of it fuels him like how Akihiro—(clears throat.) Like how it also fuels me. Reviews and suggestions welcome. I'd be very disappointed if you held them back from me. I'll see you in the next chapter reader-san~ -般若

[barnacles34]

ELEGIES.epub

or: ELEGIES to forget all these metaphors for fucking

read on fanprose (better dividers)

7k words

sohyun x male reader

Your coffee, she says. Sliding it to you.

Spat in?

Of course.

And it's flawless, because she makes it flawless - which is the true cruelty of it.

You reply: for the record, I poison the food, trace amounts, bioaccumulative. you'll go quietly in your sleep the week before you become partner, and i'll be left to grieve into your half of a security deposit

we are never seeing that deposit again because you put your fist through the drywall demonstrating a rear naked choke

You said you felt unsafe walking to the subway

I feel unsafe walking to the kitchen, thank you very much. She turns a page she was reading - now drink your spit.

Gladly

You'd had this apartment since you were both broke - instant-noodle broke, splitting one metrocard broke, the sort of broke that's almost fun in the rearview because you survived it by the skin of your teeth.

Now she bills more in an hour than the rent. You do something with capital you've stopped trying to explain at parties - rather, take a middle distance, talk about all the publishing companies you've sponsored. exclaim books aren't dead after all! [1]

[1] of course, the irony of it is that they are, kind of dead

The radiator finds a new place to leak everyday, the second bathroom is a closet on account of all the pipe failures - and you have to pass by her bedroom to go to the bathroom. You'll take your grim - as she says - 4-in-1 facial cleanser, moisturizer, toner, window cleaner beside her 70 products to - as she says, to look like a porcelain cup. Either of you could leave tomorrow. But you don't.

I'm making you a tinder profile you say, taking her phone off the counter, sliding in the code to her phone.

I don't need a profile

You need a life. Or, at minimum, an orgasm that isn't self-induced.

She scoffs at the answer, still focused on the book -

You read aloud what you type in: emotionally available between the hours of never and also never.

Keep going. I'm aroused.

Lawyer, with three working holes

She sets the book down - this is how you know you've drawn blood - give me the phone

Make me

You had reserved a restaurant for the two of you, this new restaurant that was supposed to be great according to 15 google reviews who probably were the owner's extended family - doing their due diligence to make sure that this specific child doesn't become the family disappointment.

As always, the food comes out less than satisfactory; all the dishes are doused in butter; and the salad section was the most calorically dense section of the menu. You whisper about how much better you can make each of these dishes back home - and she'll agree, for once:

You ruined restaurants for me. I used to enjoy being disappointed by the $20 millennial man-bun burger. Now there's a douchebag at home who makes a great burger.

my pleasure with a smile.

She's scrolling tinder, still scrolling ever since the morning. Look at this, look at what's available to me. This one opened with the word 'yes'.

Atleast he's confident about it.

Oh please... she sighs, and this one wanted to know - whether i would rather have one thumb for a tongue or a tongue on every finger.

What did you land on. I think the tongue on every finger -

Nothing! It's so impractical, i'd rather think about - i don't know, vigorously masturbating.

You choke on some food you were actively chewing on, and she giggles - of course she does - and this one spelled 'pussy' wrong, this one wrote 'wyd 2nite' and I just have to scoff - how lazy do you have to be. It is ONE keystroke. T-O.

She drops the phone facedown, Who raised these men. Who looked at a child and thought: i will release this, unfinished, into the apps.

You'd know more about raising them, if you'd dated more than one person since the Pleistocene.

Atleast I committed, you - you just find anybody to fuck around with. She points at you, still chewing the complimentary bread - there was that one with the lululemon workout gear, said that's her sexpertise - she mimics a gag - then the DJ. The other DJ. Then I think there was another fucking DJ. I just genuinely -

Respect the hustle, Sohyun.

Respect the hustle? Your dick has commitment issues.

You laugh, and she's laughing too, the helpless one she hates, hand over her mouth, a soft cackle, perfect, uneven teeth showing - and you pay before she can fight you about it.

There's a dress shop two blocks down, on the way back to your apartment - and there's a green dress of something very expensive, to which she slows just a tad for -

You: Try it.

No thanks. It's ten thousand dollars with a tag.

So is everything you own. And then, you can't help it, it's right there - you lower your voice into something oily, shriveled, all menace, Let your uncle get it for you.

Absolutely not, strike it from the record

Uncle's had a very good quarter sweetheart. You pat a pocket. Uncle wants to see you in the green one.

I will call the actual police, I will have you locked up in maximum security - but, that laugh, she can't help herself, laughing into her hand - ...does uncle want to come in - watch me try it?

And for once, neither of you has the line to pull back.

...That got away from us, you manage, like something's lodged in your throat

That got away from you. She says. Buy me the dress, uncle. I've earned it.

Of course. You buy it.

The weekend arrives with the both of you brushing in the same bathroom, the only usable bathroom. She gargles, lets the foam clear away before slotting a length of floss between her teeth - By the way, I've a date today

With a... functioning human being?

His name is Mark. He used a semicolon correctly, nearly proposed on the spot.

So he's unemployed

He's a structural engineer, building the finest bridges.

Man who builds bridges and stays punctual - sounds like you matched with linkedin premium.

He's nice. Two long relationships, both ending kindly. Tips like he's apologizing for capitalism.

...So a serial killer?

He's just nice, man. She moves to throw the length of loss away.

Nobody's just nice. 4 months later the neighbors will find the crawlspace. You amble a comb through your hair. and then, I'll say I told you so.

She presses an index finger into your gut and you reflexively jolt - save this barking for later, uncle.

You move into the living room, waiting for Sohyun to get ready. You didn't get to see her in a green dress yet -

Uncle, I'm ready. She says, behind the door.

This uncle bit is getting old, Sohy - She comes out, the green dress skims her curves, the v-neck that presses her cleavage together, gleaming hair, glowing skin, plump lips -

Eyes up here mister.

Right. Get a hold of yourself - yeah, it looks great. Like, I don't know, it's like an accidentally sexy librarian.

Your eyes are fixed to my cleavage, I'm not even sure if you got the full view.

You did, you definitely did. This is, without a doubt, the hottest woman you've ever seen.

Now, help me zip up this thing.

There's the long bare reach of her back, you drag it up slowly, the zipper is small and your hands are big and you don't want to waste a moment of counting all the moles on her back.

I'm sorry but there won't be a person left in this city who hasn't looked down the front of that dress you say, pulling the zipper by parts.

Here I was, hoping the one exception was you.

Afraid not. You move some hairs away from her nape to get the zipper fully closed.

And she turns again, the dress comes out even more pressed to her curves, and that v-neck, god almighty. She steps into the heels -

I'm picturing it, you - a human - and this... linkedin premium.

God please no

I'm picturing it - two barbie dolls in the dark, knocking smooth plastic parts together. You say, vulgarity be damned.

Please stop talking - a familiar twitch to her mouth, god what you would do to continue living with her.

He won't get anywhere regardless, you add, holding out her coat unasked. Ten years with one man, a year of nothing since: there are cobwebs in there.

You know what's charming about the women you date? she says, taking the coat. How they all vanish after exactly one dinner. Like you're running a very tidy little murder operation

You know what's charming about the men you date? They don't exist. Mark is the first confirmed sighting. That's a million dollar sighting. Rarer than bigfoot.

Mark exists.

We'll see if he survives contact. Go easy on him, castrator

Don't need to go easy, dahmer. He's structurally sound. She slings a bag over her shoulder. Dont wait up.

You wait up, badly: lights off, a finance newsletter open on your phone that you're not reading, slouching on the couch like a man who is definitely not watching the door, ambling away the scalding minutes.

The lock turns at around eight PM. She comes in on the green dress and a drunk smile -

So, you say

So. She drops her shoes

How was Marco

Mark - she says, with emphasis - was wonderful.

And something about it feels wrong. Like swallowing something that's whole, cratering its path through your esophagus. Wonderful how, be specific, treat it as a deposition.

He's funny, actually funny, she pads into the kitchen, where you've already moved, filling two glasses of wine - we didn't stop talking. Three whole hours of talking, they flipped the chairs onto the tables around us.

Insufferable

There's a second date, a sip from the wine, a gentle smile on her. You wouldn't know the feeling.

Conversation's never been my deliverable.

No. I've seen your deliverable. It leaves before the coffee and changes its phone number

It leaves satisfied, you gesture, A courtesy Mark may never trouble you with

She hops up onto the counter, legs swinging in a gentle rhythm. And that dress - your dress, your genuinely terrible idea - pressed high to her thigh, all pretense of hem gone, riding clean all the way to the upper -

You'd buy it anyway. You'd buy it on leverage you don't have -

Oh please, monk of the orgasm temple. She scoffs. "Satisfied." Then tips her head, lowers the lashes, entering this little play that she imagines your women sing: I see you across the bar and - gosh (this emphasis on the trashiest possible gosh) - you really want me to put my tongue there!? I've never done that before. Sweet as a song. Does that play? On the book-illiterate?

Devastatingly so, you say. You should audition to be one of these... book-illiterates. I'm always casting.

No thanks. I've got a second date to look forward to.

Do you even get to the regular stuff, you ask, or do you have to bury the body first?

Now - she aims the empty glass at your sternum - you're trying to get me worked up.

You retrieve the glass, but up close she's all wine-warmth, hot perfume, the gentle trace of another man's cologne, and your body, traitorous as it is, gets worked up.

Oh my god. she says, looking down, radiant, with a ticking-time-bomb of a laugh - is that what I think it is?

Quickly, try to play it off - Don't flatter yourself, I was outside for a while and walked past alot of women - and she catches the lie like it's nothing, scoffing: You walked past, maybe, a leaking radiator.

The radiator's been forward lately. I haven't wanted to make it weird.

Should've seen it sooner, looks like we're arranging the date soon for the radiator fucker, she rules.

Oh, but I'm shy - an awful pitch to your voice.

And there's this soft silence, like nothing's wrong in the world - and Sohyun's grinning at you, wine marking her lips a tad darker, like you could just -

She tilts her head, openly appraising - I've always had a soft spot, she murmurs, for the small and the weak.

There's nothing small about me

You bring your dick up an awful lot. She slides off the counter and lands close. I wonder what that means.

It means you keep looking. I knew you would.

I wanted a visual, she says, It'll be giving me nightmares for weeks, thank you very much.

And then nothing's said. Kitchen too small, this green dress too close, the fact that you've got a hard-on to her and she... Fucking. Knows.

Goodnight, Dahmer she brushes past - because she has never once let you have the last move - and goes down the hall to her bedroom

And you're fine.

Completely fucking fine.

A month passes, Mark, the angel Sohyun's in love with has her busy on the weekends, letting her experience the city for what it's worth, letting her live a life she's missed out on for years.

He texts you on a Tuesday. Apparently I've been dating your roommate a month and never once bought her roommate a drink. Let me fix that - Friday? Sohyun's in, obviously.

You go to hate him - an agenda that Sohyun is already aware of. They're already there in the corner booth, two of them sitting next to eachother - and Mark rises to shake your hand. Tall and good-looking, how cliche - like he's never been escorted out of a holiday party by the shoulders.

You came. Mark says. Sohyun bet me twenty you'd bail.

I should have. I had a flawless evening of resenting you from across the city already booked. You slide in across from them.

So, you say. Bridges, tell me about the one that collapsed. The bodies, all the bodies.

None of mine have collapsed

That you know of.

He won an award, Sohyun interjected.

An award for a bridge that hasnt failed yet - committee's bold then. Waitress brings a beer, foam leaking at the top, and you take a sip - Personally, cantilevers - I say as a layman - overrated.

Overrated how. He gives a pleasant smile

The general load -

You don't know what a cantilever is.

I know it's a kind of bridge

It's mostly a kind of shelf. And he's kind about it, which is just unsufferable. You just came to find something wrong with me.

A felony. An ugly walk. An ugly way of chewing. Maybe you cheer for Arsenal. You reply, suavely.

Sorry to disappoint.

It's enraging. I keep waiting for you to mention the women in the well.

No well, he mock-sighs. HOA's strict.

It's the moment you tip - Has she told you what she actually does? She castrates men for a living. It's all framed back home.

And Sohyun - careful all night, porcelain-beautiful, hair curled to perfection - It's family law, castration for itemization. There's a huge difference.

Then she adds: Don't let him do the wounded act by the way. He's a "venture capitalist" and calls it a vocation.

I also keep a few dying publishers as pets, you tell Mark.

Sohyun, not missing a beat, There's a working theory. I won't bore you with the evidence but it has to do with organs.

There's no evidence. You point at her, then finally finishing the rest of the beer. It's all gone, mysteriously.

Mark interjects: They're not dying, though, the publishers. A little lost.

Oh, they're dying, you and Sohyun say, at the same time, in almost the same key - the both of you laugh.

That's the first time you feel him fall behind. He laughs too - but it's lagged, late.

You always look like you're one step off a knife fight, she tells you.

I'm delighted to be here, actually. Means I'm not off evicting some single mother from a shelter.

That was an accident.

Hmm.

There was a - Mark starts. - a shelter?

Long story, you and she say, in unison, and don't tell it.

He sits back a little.

You mention you came straight up from the office and she says she didn't realize they let people jaunt back and forth over the River Styx[2] like that, and you say there's a small toll, it's all very very very civilized, and Mark says the cross-town traffic this time of night is honestly murder -

[2] Sohyun's foul mouth comes up with a brilliant joke: that you are dead, but you still walk back and forth over the River Styx, which is the boundary from the living world and the underworld in greek mythology. Curse her!

and hears himself, and stops. Lays an arm along the booth behind her, losing the ability to time himself, and just watches. Like this girl was nothing like what he was looking at, something nearer to wonder, a man at the aquarium glass.

She laughs, turning mid-laugh to bring him in, asking isn't this funny, and finds him already looking at her, gone soft and far off, and the laugh snags in her throat.

Mark calls for the check - On me. Least I can do. For the floor show.

Laying - drunk off my tits the wine we spilt painting the ground there's a barrier that jives around his warm face And I notice then, you could ruin my life

Chapter 2:

A day later,

You get home, you spot a bottle of something brown open, shining on the island. You're good at connecting dots. There were peonies scattered on the floor (Mark is the one to end things with flowers, pleasant as always).

And she's drunk enough to reach for the old shtick. So. Who's the lucky sixty-nine-year-old you've been ruining lately?

My aunt.

Your aunt's dead.

Which would explain why she's been so pleasantly quiet in bed.

She laughs, then she stares at the open window, ruminating:

I had someone. He left his contacts wilted on the bathroom counter, fossilized into half-globes. I'd come home and want to hear about his day - I mean I really wanted to, almost fetishistic, kiss what was left of the razor burn on his neck. He made the worst scrambled eggs. Rubbery, every morning, and I ate them every time. She turns around: ten years of rubber eggs.

What about you, she asks.

I had a woman. You take a sip of the brown she was drinking. She used to argue about the doneness of pancakes and then put her hands up my shirt and call the whole morning menial, and I'd ask: what purpose do we serve. The answer was always: I'm fine right here.

She sits, lets her head rest back against the cushion. Everyone wants somebody to understand their personality and their childhood and what each of those things has done to the other one. That's the scam of it. You show your pale underbelly, turn your ribs inside out, fashion your whole interiority for them and beg them closer, closer than that, even closer - and they get close enough, and then it's - they're already on the other side, and everything's over.

She picks up the bottle and sips. I feel like an alarm. Wailing. That's the humiliation of wanting. Capitalists fooled us into thinking wanting is shameless. Love takes you to shame two times over. 10 years. A scoff at the number.

You're not an alarm.

That's very funny. She stares past you, calculating the whole of you. A lawyer and a venture capitalist with Beckett on the shelf. He'd write us as two people in bins.

I once saw a pigeon on its back, she says. Alive but dying. It blinked at me, tire-smirched, blood-grizzled. I didn't do anything. I should've stepped on its brain. You know why that's sad? Pigeons know how to hurt but don't know how to sin. She drinks. I'm not sad about me. I get exactly what I deserve.

What do you deserve. You ask.

I don't know. Everything terrible. A man who makes bad eggs.

She's close enough now that you get the liquor and under it the her of her, the scalp, the skin, and you think of the skyscraper poem your ex wrote: how we overextend our necks staring at something enormous, like those mornings when someone's still asleep and their face is so calm and wantless and they're not even being a person yet and they're so perfect you want you want you want.

Do we ask the earth for permission? she says. Do we? There are little arachnids living on our eyelashes right now, clearing our pores and mating under the full moon, and their whole lives depend on us, and they never asked and we never asked - do, we, as arachnids, need permission from our earth?

No.

You press a hot hand to her stocking-clad thigh. She presses a flat hand to your chest, slips a whole hand in between the buttons of your shirt, spreads her fingers over the heartbeat.

Do you feel that, you say. Do you feel what you're doing to me.

You hold her hand there until the urge to kiss the fingertips wins - pen-worn hand, redness at the tips from gripping the legal pad all day, nails short and practical. You lift it, kiss one fingertip, and she makes a sound, this small mewl, and leans forward, mouth to your chest through the shirt, your neck, your jaw. You hold still. If you move you'll move wrong. You'll break whatever calculus she's built in her head to let this happen.

How am I supposed to not want you, you say.

What's the difference between you and other men. They're all horrible.

I'm horrible. But I'm here.

Don't be full of yourself. She pulls you in by the tie. You're preposterous

Her fingertips find a piece of twine protruding from a button and incise it. Your mouth on her shoulder. Her spine under your palm. The heft of her hair hooked left, more kisses, the tendon on her neck, the jaw, her mouth again, and she pulled you by the the tie, left and right, kissing whatever remained unkissed - a gesture so old, as old as the grandmother who named an ocean on her grandfather's wrist, who kissed each knuckle, who drew an island into his palm and told him which parts they would share and which they would leave alone - the open brown, the Francis Bacon print on the wall, and to think of her holding you down tugged up the wire of every species on this earth, not the electric inventions, something bigger, a fevered movement across the world, all the trees at once turning dewy -

nothing else matters at all.

stomach-churning pulses grinding through your intestines - and she's between your legs, pressing your legs apart, pulls off her dress shirt, her skirt, all that's remaining: nude bra and panties.

There's a soft unsteadiness in her, the alcohol, the need, the want all combining into this weak-knee'd unsteadiness - you hold her smallest fingers, steady her.

Did you jerk off thinking about me? she asks.

All the fucking time.

She smirks, sinking to her knees, hands bracketing the heat of your thighs. Her hands twist into your trousers.

I want to taste you, the weight of you on my tongue, the stretch. The heat of your cock.

She gently pulls down your trousers all the way, hands tracing the heat of your thighs - ignoring the obvious, the trapped heat.

She reaches up, still kneeling, finds the first button of your shirt, let's a hand go under to feel your warm abs as she unbuttons with one.

Did you do this with Mark, you say.

A smile on her - No, no I didn't. Are you glad?

You sigh with relief -

She grins, splays a hand on your chest, all the buttons off, the heartbeats -

do you feel it Sohyun - do you fucking feel it - you're driving me insane.

She takes a deep breath, breathing you in, the cologne melting off with your sweat, and you dot kisses on her scalp - that flowery shampoo, that smell that's hers, distinctively.

She's easing the lid open on you, finding the kinks in the armor. dotting kisses on your pecs, sitting up, still on her knees, pressing her fingers into soft spots and hard spots alike. She runs her palms down your thighs, closer to your cock, back up again.

You pull her hand into you, hand on her cheek, tilting her head up and pressing your lips onto hers, tonguing at her. Retaliation beckons: she palms your cock, rubs her palm over the heat, working the thin fabric for all it's worth.

She leans forward as she curls fingers over the band of your boxers, kissing the V of your waist, and she trails lower, closer to the heat. And you're pulsing, barely keeping it together and she lets your cock rest next to her neck -

it's so fucking hot

I know, please. you barely let out

please what?

stop fighting me, you're torturing me.

She presses a kiss on the first thick inch she sees:

You're granting me all this control - second inch, fingers curling on the base of your cock. kissing the inches, all the way - and the fingers - wrapped all the way around the thick of it.

it's hard to even close around it. And she's almost relieved.

It's hard to breathe, do you tell her that? Do you tell her that she's ruining you with just her hand staying static around your cock? That her little kisses are already taking you to that extreme?

You're twitching. A venom to her voice.

What do you want? your hands turning white gripping the couch.

I want you to fuck me. fuck my throat, turn me into a whore. I've all this control and it disgusts me.

But before you could process any of it, the sickening thrill of it: she grips harder, lets you throb in her hand, the burn of your cock; and leans forward, dragging her tongue flatly from base to tip in a wet line.

Your thighs tick forward.

And she mewls: I want more of that

She shifts higher, brings her mouth to the head of your cock and lets saliva drip along her tongue.

Pushing, letting it glance unevenly over the head - she flattens her tongue again, drags it over your cock, drags her fingers oh so soft. All this slick, the twist of her wrist, the second hand now closing in around the head of your cock, fist curving tighter over the sensitivity as it slips through all her spit.

And you're losing it: she's turning her wrist near the top, letting it meld into her soft tongue, letting your thick cock hit her tongue once or twice then not again and you can't fucking take it:

please

what?

please - what more can you say? She's trying to end you and it's all self-fulfilling.

you dig your palms into your eyes trying to process, you're already on the edge, twitching, weeping pre-cum onto her tongue and she's taking it all like it's everything to her. like the tears of weeping angels.

Another hip twitch -

this salty-sweet tang of your precum, you're so adorable. And she drags both fists up, spreading the remaining precum all over your cock -

Her mouth connects, sucking hard at the head, gripping tigher with her hands, lips stretched, mouth wide, as she sucks and tries to swallow more of you.

She pops off gently, getting breaths in, letting your weeping corded cock rest on her red-hot lips, before swallowing you back down, all the way until the head of yours bumps the back of her throat.

Relaxes - enough to breathe just a little, your cock still taking space in her throat - pulls your hand all the way to her hair, letting it entangle.

Sohyun's spit-slick, hand lands on top of your hand. And she presses down, like demonstration -

but you yank back, and a girlish yelp leaves her -

You finally coil enough power to get a turn. You pull her up by her armpits - and how light she is, like a fucking doll - you rip the stockings underneath her skirt, let two thick veiny fingers enter her sopping wet pussy.

clit rolling against your rough palm, the wet satin of her panties barely there.

And you scrape your teeth over her neck, sucking a mark onto her, as she bounces desperately over your fingers.

such a little thing, locking her waist into you as you push your fingers even deeper. two fingers trying to tear off her bra. two breasts pressed to your face, a nipple in your mouth.

made to fit me.

Cunt squelching on your palm, head dropping back. And you're sick with it, pulling her underwear to the side to watch her cunt weeping on your fingers.

Kissing all over chest, marking her up with your mouth.

On the bed, you think, sink inside her -

but you grab your cock anyway, dragging your head along the slippery pink of her pussy, and Sohyun moans - all sorts of needy that makes your cock throb, weep outside her.

sink on me, princess.

She sinks, forehead pressed to yours, and she's trying -

Feeling her, the wet and slick and tight - the spasm of her cunt, the clench, the leak of her arousal down your veiny cock.

You're fucking her raw, without a condom, rutting up into her, again and again, and she pushes back gently, trying to find a pace that doesn't utterly ruin her and you're chasing her, fucking her deeper, ruining her little pussy.

Until she presses a soft hand to your shoulder, leaning back, face flushed, nipples pink and hard, stomach tensed.

Stare at her - how fucking ruined she is: swollen lips from sucking your cock like it was made for her, sweat beading down her forehead - god is the sweat running down her face. You kiss the salt-worked forehead - a moment of softness.

Then she rolls gently, slipping a hand between her legs, past your thumb resting on her clit, onto the soaking mess of her, that hot pink mess that she's responsible for -

let me hear you, you growl, to her collar, kissing the blooming hickeys you left earlier.

grab at her hips, sit straighter, pull her into your body, let her wrap her hands around your shoulder - grasp at levity as this goddess is cock-drunk off you, still rolling, offering her clit to your thumb.

And she pants.

Clinging onto you.

letting her sopping cunt cling onto you like this was fucking prophecy - it's hot - sweat beading along your back, between your bodies, sticky - the wet noise of her cunt being excavated by a cock a smidge too large.

You're both close, these petty uncoordinated movements making the orgasm closer - sensitivities reaching an opus - only these little shifts of her hips - the urge to stretch this moment for as long as possible

And only then: the quietest orgasm, stuck to the top of her breasts, barely hanging in there, her waist locked between your thick forearms, cum spreading, filling in whatever was left between you.

poems for fucking:

romantic walks up your arm with my lips dinner on your collarbones, a bottle of wine paper bagged somewhere on your ribs I want to see your city, and by don't take me home just yet I really mean: Let's share a whiskey, take the train over your city, spot the pennies lodged between the pavement - let's make sure every part of your skin's been kiss-bitten and that'll take us a while and if it means anything at all, putting a stamp upside-down means I love you and I would turn over every post office in the world just to show you how much I care.

You wake to the cold half of the bed, and the rest of it makes a grim kind of sense: she's gone. Most of her stuff is still here, her shoes, but her daily shoes - gone.

You call, and it rings and rings until the call cancels - you text and the delivered stays there.

It's a Saturday. There's nowhere a person needs to be on a Saturday - but she's a workaholic - and the dots connect: you drive to her firm.

The weekend guard waves you up on account of being acquainted with Sohyun. And you get to the floor where she's usually working, and there she was, through the glass - neat-clothed, glasses on her, working hard on a case you'd never understand.

She looks up and clocks you, immediately bolting to the men's restroom - not toward the elevators or the stairs. And you go in after her -

Sohyun. I just want to talk

God, listen to you. "I just want to talk" Do you have any idea how many women have said that to your back while you looked for your shoes?

Yes. I'm aware of the irony, it's why I'm standing inside your firm at eight a.m instead of pretending you don't exist.

There's nothing to talk about. We were drunk, it was -

There was a shuffle outside the door - an employee? - but before you could look back, she pulled you by your tie into one of the stalls.

And you were dangerously close to her, her face, this face you've been in love with since forever. The one face that you cannot imagine living without - Listen, you try to say -

and she's off the tiles, fist in your tie, pulling you down, kissing you. Shut up.

You take her face in both hands, gently, and hold her back just far enough that the kiss can't keep doing the talking.

I'm not leaving. I'm going to be the worst thing that ever happened to your avoidance. Kiss me to keep me quiet all you like. I'll enjoy it, I'll still be here when you open your eyes.

Her hands press against your shirt, head pressed to your sternum. She stays there for a moment.

Starts kneeling -

Sohyun. You catch her hands. You dont have to -

I know. She looks up, Let me.

The Castrator, who has never once knelt to a man in her life, lowering herself to the tile of the worst room in the building.

You put a hand in her hair, to hold. The dots connect.

Daddy, she mewls.

Hands in your lap.

There's no sympathy for her. You're in this cramped bathroom with her, your groin pushed up to her face, and all she can say is: Daddy.

Open your mouth

Through the small opening in her mouth, you slot in a finger, trace the lower lip and upper lip - gather spit from the tip of her tongue to glaze her lips.

Wider. You say.

She's just sitting there, rubbing her thighs together - like she isn't so fucked and slippery in her underwear that just a small touch could make her cum - that you pressing a finger into her mouth - letting her throat close around that digit - wouldn't make her burst into decibels and let the whole town know that you are fucking her dumb.

She's staring at how you unbutton your pants. Button by button, all the way until your cock's out half-mast diagonal to her face and she's fucking drooling. Slowly moving forward and you pin her head to the wall of the bathroom stall.

How do you want this dick?

Like how you fucked all those other girls.

You think I'm not enjoying every moment with you? That day, we fucked like lovers. You cup her cheeks with one hand and her glazed lips point out duck-like. I'll show you what I like.

You bundle two fingers - index and ring - down her mouth, until her throat closes and she half-gags. Eyes fill with these tears and she tries to straighten herself. Fingers still down there, and it makes it hard for her breathe but -

She's fucking climaxing, barely keeping her hands on her lap. A breathless moan escapes her and you take this opportunity to let your fingers in deeper. Her chest jerks, a tear goes down her left cheek as your knuckles bump her teeth.

Roughly: good girl.

White-knuckled against her spit-trickled dress shirt that won her millions in lawsuits. Just then, you pull your fingers out, and she finally gets to swallow down.

You should be able to price anything. Be cutthroat about it, hedge your potential losses, then hedge on top of them - that's the only way to win. You've seen people go full-in, bet their futures on a life they so desperately deserve and by the end of it, they're lost souls, begging for the past. You thought it made you the only adult in the room. Then the day after that you came inside her and everything crumpled.

Your spit-slick fingers wrapped around your cock and you fisted it gently, just inches away from her mouth. She couldn't help but move forward, but you pin her head again and she's completely mindless - obeying any mechanic of hers that'll grant her a feather of stimulus. You tap your cock against her tongue. You could see the way her lips twitched to close, but she seemed to contextualize enough to know that anything that you didn't allow would be swiftly punished. And maybe now everything was dawning on her:

That you enjoyed sex with her rather than the opposite - that it's supposed to be as intimate as the day you came inside her.

Because this? This was heady, broken, and embarrassing - and all of it was happening in her own office bathroom that she shares with subordinates. One mistake and she's kicked off the ladder. And yet:

I want all of it. I want it. I want it.

You could see how her cloudy eyes mechanized - she was about to cum again - you let your tip on her tongue and she's already around the cycle again. You press the heft of your shaft into her mouth and push in gently. Push in gently because she already came, push in gently because you want to savor - for a few moments longer - how she crumples under you.

You're gentle with it, letting her set the pace, letting her get breaths between strokes. She anchors herself, and this control you give her makes her shiver - even the way her throat clenches when she goes too fucking deep.

She pulls back to breathe, a strand of saliva still connects your tip and her lower lip. And she's staring at the corded red-tipped shaft, speechless.

Stand up

She does, her skirt crumpled just a way's up. She's expectant, wanting something. But this wasn't a day for her wants.

You grab the waistbands of her panties and nylon, pull it down midway and her pussy's just glistening - all-pink, heady, musky, almost pulsing.

Hold your skirt up

And she does, further surrendering to your hand around her throat. And everything was a bit clearer:

You began fisting your spit-slick cock again, pointed down to her panties. Another embarrassing and heady position she can't seem to get enough of: Her eyes are full of will-you's and wants that she can't act on. You press a thumb over her pulse - grunting more hunch-backed trying to not spray your cum too early - and you tighten, tighten until she grips your forearms and loses her breath for just a second - then you release. There's this rush of inhales and exhales as she catches some air and you repeat the choke - until, just until, you press harder than you've done before - her legs going loose, eyes going to back of her head - and you cum all over her panties. Cloudy liquid dotting her skirt, the floor, the nylon , the front of her pussy, and all over the panties.

Fuck.

Is all she says, can say. You pin her jaw to the side so that she can't look at you, only the door, the cruel door that may open for a coworker - and you jolt closer, scooping a bit of your cum and letting two fingers enter her just then. And she's already climaxing, screaming in her own hand.

This is what happens when I do what I want.

Your nose is buried into her exposed throat and your fingers throttling her pussy. your callused hand scraping the hood of her clit, your hooked finger rubbing that spot that makes her legs splinter half-way. You take your fingers out and mash the front of her pussy with the heel of your palm before going into her again. She's rolling with how your cum-slicked fingers penetrate her.

Her body finally gives out and that's when you hug her, your fingers still slotted into her.

In truth, I can't fuck you the way I fucked these other girls. Your fingers finally slow their rolls. I want to enjoy my time with you, not treat you like trash.

And her reply, as best as it could be presented: a wet kiss, hands wrapped around you, grasping the hair behind your head.

Her kiss fluttered gently as you finally let her have one final climax.

I love you.

Let's move into a bigger place, together.

[xianambrose]

Two-phase Stepdown

aespa Winter x M!Reader

SMUT — 1,429 words

The front door bursts open then slams closed. You're in the middle of snacking, watching YouTube documentaries as part of your off day. Hearing the door makes you freeze and turn your head.

Minjeong walks in silently, her steps slow and heavy. Her entire person looks worn out, actually, most apparent in her face and shoulders. Even so, she is still incredibly beautiful.

"Hey, babe. Long day?" you ask softly, rising from the couch. Minjeong doesn't answer, blank eyes looking forward. She takes a while to register your presence, neck dragging to face you. "Evening," she croaks.

You pout, wanting to comfort her. "Wanna talk about it, or need distractions?"

Her eyes bounce lazily, tongue licking her dry lips. "No talk. Want quiet."

"Okay. Come here, I got you." You extend your arms, but it earns you a sharp glare. 

"Shut up."

"Sorry?"

"Shut...the fuck up. Want quiet!" she growls. You lower your arms and gulp, sweaty hands rubbing on your thighs. Walk towards her slowly, keeping your eyes on hers. Closing the distance, you gingerly wrap your arms around her; a light hug.

Several seconds pass before Minjeong sighs and rests her head on the crook of your shoulder, dropping her bag. She doesn't hug you back, doesn't have to. You keep the light embrace, listening to each other's breathing. 

Suddenly, Minjeong pulls herself free, putting an arm's length between you. Then she yanks your sweatshirt's collar, sending your lips crashing into hers. 

She isn't gentle whatsoever. Her mouth is hungry, insistent, devouring yours with burning fervor. You yelp and moan and she unlatches briefly, slapping you hard. "Shut up I said. How many times do I gotta say it?"

Oh she is stressed stressed. Work must've been a real bitch. You remember she's going through her PMS as well. This will not be easy on you, and you're equally thrilled and terrified.

Minjeong keeps your mouths locked as she pushes you towards the couch. She's groaning, whining into your lips. You, meanwhile, try your best to stay silent as she asked. Every little audible slip-up is met with a harsh slap, stinging your cheek and hardening you below at the same time.

Your legs hit the couch. Fall backwards, no attempt to get up. Just lie there while you watch Minjeong ditch her blazer and unbutton her shirt, untucking it from her pencil skirt.

"Strip. Everything." Her command is short and clear, you obey straight away. "Faster!" You make haste, abandoning any regard to pride that you foolishly kept.

The moment you're bare, Minjeong leaps onto you, straddling your hips. She bites her lip, grinding hard and slow, her heat driving you crazy even through all the fabric. 

Another moan escapes you. She's fast to discipline with a hard slap across your face, the hardest one yet. "You...are gonna give me what I want. Exactly as I tell you, or you'll get more of that. Understood? Nod."

You nod just once, feeling any extra will earn another slap. Minjeong's mouth stretches to a predatory grin, hiking up her tight pencil skirt to slide off her panties. Gosh, she is so hot.

"Open." She stuffs her white panties into your mouth. "Good boy. Don't think that means you can make sounds. Got it?" 

You nod, getting high off her musk. Minjeong lines up her wetness with your tip, then slams down. She lets out a guttural moan, fingernails digging into your shoulder. It takes all of your might to maintain silence but you manage, tearing up instead.

"Fuuck yes...needed this dick. So fucking hard..." Minjeong doesn't bounce, she rolls her hips, letting every inch of her depth feel you. The motion is equally arousing for your eyes and shaft, you bite down on her panties hard.

Your arms go to her waist by instinct, she knife hands them away. "No...touching. Did I say you can touch? Keep them where they are!" They resort to grabbing the couch instead, increasingly difficult as time passes and they get sweaty.

Some thrusts in, one in particular is too much for you, letting out a choked cry in response. Minjeong snarls and delivers a slap, her hand resting around your neck. Not choking, but enough pressure to establish herself.

"I've—had enough...of those—ahh! Assholes telling me around. Yelling and treating me like—mmhhh! Like I'm trash." She laughs, a daunting sound among the claps of skin. "So you shut up and take what you're given. I'm giving the orders here, got it?"

Your eyes struggle to stay open as you nod, tears obscuring your vision. Minjeong's hips pick up speed, her rolls becoming shallower and more intense. "Oh fuck! Ahhh!" Her first orgasm surges through her, drawing out a long, melodic moan as her body spasms.

"Ngghhh! Don't you dare fucking cum before I tell you! You don't decide how I use this dick. Got it?"

Your nod is accompanied by a loud, helpless whimper. No way you're staying quiet and not busting with how insane her pussy's grip and wetness is. It's met with a slap as expected, but you’re starting to go numb. Heck, it's downright enjoyable.

"Mmhhh, my baby boy. You're so adorable under me," she sighs, bending down and licking your cheeks as a brief remedy. You shudder at the sensation, then gasp as Minjeong gets going again, hard and fast from the off.

"Ahh...babe. You wanna—argh! Fuck! Wanna cum? Wanna breed this—pussy?"

Nodding multiple times now, to hell with the single nods. You're desperate, begging for release. Panties are completely soaked with drool, flowing down the sides of your head. 

Minjeong shifts her angle, now she actually is bouncing. It's shocking and  borderline painful, arching your back, knees bucking up. But she just giggles in between her long, loud moans, eyes hazy with euphoria.

"You're so desperate, aren't you?" she mewls. "Wanna let go? Fill me up? Want it so bad?"

You nod continuously, knowing it's the only right answer anyways. Minjeong shrieks and grabs your hands, bringing them to her waist. "Touch me." You waste no time gripping it like a lifeline, cock aching for release.

"Gahhh, what a good boy. Now give it to me, baby. Let go, fill me u—arghhh!" 

Not one second after hearing 'fill', you burst. Pent-up load blowing deep in her cunt. Broken cry slipping past your mouth, but Minjeong doesn't hear it. Not over the wails of her second orgasm, eyes rolled back as she milks your cock.

Minjeong collapses forward, her heavy breaths softening into thin wheezes next to your ear. Your eyelids become heavy, you relax your body, about to doze off—

"Hey," Minjeong's soft albeit slightly hoarse voice brings you back. "You okay, babe? Oh, your cheeks are so red!"

You chuckle weakly in response as she takes out her panties and drums her fingers over your cheeks. "Does it hurt?"

"It–urgh. It did, but...no problem. Really...liked it. Ehe."

"Tsch. You little freak." Minjeong pokes your reddened cheeks before kissing them gently, earning a delighted hum from you. "My freak."

"Mhm. How are you feeling? Feel better?" you ask, lightly playing with her damp hair.

"Yeah. Got...got it outta my system. Thanks, babe."

"Anytime." Your turn to kiss her now, once on the temple and another on her lips.

"Dinner?"

"Mmm...I gotta—we...clean up first. Carry me to the shower?" she murmurs, resting her chin on your chest.

You giggle at an idea that popped up in your head. "Sure...but there's a toll."

Minjeong raises an eyebrow, her breath hitching as she feels your cock twitching and hardening inside her. "Yeah? What is it?" She smirks and tilts her head.

"Another round. In the shower," you reply, rolling your hips slowly. Minjeong bites her lip and sighs, her eyelids fluttering. "Deal."

Deal sealed, you heave yourselves off of the couch, carrying Minjeong in your arms as she wraps her arms and legs around you. A good few pecks and giggles are exchanged throughout, gradually reigniting your passion.

That passion manifests as a slow candle flame rather than the firestorm that was the couch. Minjeong lets out small mewls and whimpers as you worship her neck, back and shoulders with your lips. Below, your hips roll into her tight pussy from behind, thrusting deep but gentle.

When your orgasms arrive, you share a low, long moan of each other's names, Minjeong's frame lightly trembling as her walls get another thick coat of your seed. A smooth, gradual step down from her hectic day onto your laid back, relaxed evening.

[michhawk]

Ride of the Night

Genre: smut Category: (First Person) male reader x IU Word Count: 2k+ A/N: Halo! As maybe some of y'all expected I am also on fanprose. But anyway; IU FIC! I am REALLY HAPPY with this creation, PLEASE ENJOY AND LEAVE COMMENT FOR THE FEEDBACK 🥰.

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“Hey, Ryo, what’s your story?” friend #1 asks.

“So, I met up with IU right, in—”

“Wait, wait, how in the freak do you get in contact with Lee Jieun? That IU?” friend #2 asks.

“Do you guys want to hear how I get to know IU or do you guys wanna let me continue?”

“Both” friend #1 and #2 says simultaneously.

“No.”

“HA! I knew it, this is just one of your fantasies right? There is no way a guy like you could be on par with someone like IU.”

“tsk Ya whatever, anyway like i was saying—”

Just then, me and my friends get interrupted by a far too familiar appearance.

“What are you doing?” Jieun asks.

“Oh, hi Jieun, I was just hanging out with my friends, say hi guys.” I am fucked, aren’t I?

“OH MY GOD, you are actually IU! Oh can we get an autograph?” Friend #2 asks, seems like he doesn’t realize what situation we are in right now.

Jieun ignores them and goes, “We are leaving. Now.” Then she just walks towards the exit into the parking lot.

“Damn, she's cold.” Friend #1 respond. I guess he is flabbergasted by the sudden surprise visit from Jieun.

“Yeah, she's probably going to kill me after this, I gotta go alright guys, maybe I’ll finish the story next time.” I left as soon as I said it, and I am pretty sure both of them are still in awe because now they start to really doubt their beliefs about me. HAHAHAHA.

Alright. We began on one fateful night, me and Lee Jieun walked inside one of the grand hotels in the area after her schedule. You know that yellow dress she wore in the drama? Yep, she had them for this special night.

So me and Jieun, we got inside the booked room right, and well it was not so easy to tell when it came to Jieun on what she wanted to do based on facial expression and body language alone. She was just like in the movie, stoic, like the kind of ice cold princess persona.

“So, would you like some drinks first?” I was talking like I was her servants, heck maybe I WAS her servants for the night, well could be worse.

“Give me that wine.” She pointed at my bag. Yes i carried a wine, she told me to do so.

Opening and serving the drink for her. Surprisingly she was quite a heavy drinker. She lets out a big sigh after gulping her first glass, like she just released a big chain that was on her back for the entire week or something.

I remembered we didn’t talk much, I did prepare some dinner for the both of us. She said the food I cooked tasted nice, but she said it with little to no emotion, so I couldn’t really get if she likes likes it or just saying it for the sake of saying it.

We finished eating, not talking much right, STILL it felt awkward in a way. Now I was quite inexperienced just to let it be clear, but I KNOW it wasn’t supposed to be this awkward silence. I was putting away the dirty container right, Jieun wanted to take a shower she said and went ahead, and I was like “Okay.” I don’t put much thought on it.

After I put away our bento and got myself ready to take a shower as well, I saw Jieun walked out of the shower room, still only wrapped in towel, and I can see her sexy legs her pale white and sexy thighs, not to mention the water drip on her upper body makes her tits and face shining, it just all adds up. She looked at me for a second, I was already shirtless by the way, then she just looked away and went to bed.

I took a quick shower since I already cleaned myself thoroughly for the preparation of tonight. Y’all I am not kidding, when I went out of the shower room, I saw Jieun LITERALLY masturbating on the bed.

Back in the bedroom, I saw Jieun on the bed with two fingers deep in her pussy. I was sure I wasn’t in the shower long but Jieun really pumped those fingers in and out of her pussy with a speed like she wanted to get it done soon.

Of course, she didn’t notice me, she was so focused on getting herself off. But something caught me by surprise was she moaned MY NAME.

Changing and mixing the rhythm of her finger fuck in herself. She also played with her perky tits, squeezing and pinching her nipples. I could clearly see her nipples got hardened by the second while she kept up her fingering in her pussy.

Sure enough, not long after, she came, squirting and wetting the bedsheet a little. I thought it was really hot. A woman with such a cold demeanor like her, hid such shameful behaviour, well well, that night I was sure to make her face every embarrassing moment we could make. Starting with her jolted reaction, seeing me stare at her after she came down from her high.

“What, since when did you—”

“I watched the whole thing, including the time you moan my name,” I said moving and leaned closer to her.

Her face instantly turned red, she tried to cover herself with a blanket but I stopped her hand.

“Tonight just got really interesting”

I cupped her face, leaned down and tried to kiss her, but immediately she turned her face away. I guessed she was still too shy that she got caught red-handed by me, masturbating to me.

Still maintaining her cold persona, yet no actual rejection, thus I continue. Started by kissing her cheek slowly, then moving around her jawline before going to the crock of her neck. I lightly sucked parts of her neck to leave a mark on her neck, a reminder of a secret discovered tonight.

“Awh, what are you doing? Don’t—” she said weakly. Jieun did not resist, instead her hands grabbed my head and pushed my head further towards her shoulder.

Using the moment as a sign of willingness, with lick and kisses I trailed a path from her neck down to her shoulder. Then, using my hands I grabbed her arm, lifted it up and pinned it above her head to the bed to expose the smooth and beautiful view of her armpit.

With both excitement and lust coursing through me, I chose to take my time appreciating this beautiful view in front of me. I leaned closer, put my face right up at her armpit and started sniffing at it. The scent from a combination of her perfume and sweat just hit the back of my nostril, and it flipped the feral switch inside me.

I put out my tongue and started licking every detail of her armpit, covering every part of that smooth skin with a trail of saliva right on top. It was so good, it was so nice. I lapped around her armpit while switching between licking and sniffing her armpit. I collected every trace of her sweat from her touching session earlier, leaving only my drool on her underarm before taking a glance at her.

“I didn’t know you have that kind of fetish,” she quipped.

I saw her giggling while throwing that comment at me, “do you like it?” I replied only to be met by her turning her face away from me again.

After indulging myself in her musk and sweat from her pits, I moved downward towards her tits. Squeezing it, I feel how soft and perky it is. I felt pity for those who could only ever see her in a tight dress or when she exposed her cleavage a little. I went on to nibble at her hardened nipple and swirl my tongue around it, which also elicits a moan from Jieun.

Switching between her right and left tits sucking on it, and at times gently biting on it as if hoping that something may come out of it. I did a couple of times until eventually I left a mark of my teeth on her areola.

“I hope I am doing as expectation, my princess”

“Hmph” Jieun still threw her face away as if ignoring me and dismissed me, but I saw a smile on her face.

Done with her tits, I trailed downwards again past her tummy to her pussy and thighs. Jieun immediately covered her pussy with her hands while simultaneously closing her legs together.

“Trust me,” I said calmly.

With that, I gently open her legs. I didn’t go straight to her pussy, but instead I started by kissing her knee, then trailing a path to her thighs. While slowly opening up her legs, I dived myself into her smooth and voluptuous thighs. I lick and munch on that white meaty skin that perhaps made Jieun ticklish that she started to close her legs every so often that forced me to use my hands to keep her legs apart.

“Augh, baby, please, my pussy…” she pleaded.

As soon as she said those words, I went straight to her folds. I can feel the intense heat coming out of her pussy, and I could see some trickle of her juice coating parts of the entrance of her pussy. She was so wet at that time that the only thing that crossed my mind was to suck that pussy and drink all of her juice.

“Babe, please, eat me up, please” she muttered.

That was surprising to her coming from Jieun after she ignored me from the start, but nonetheless, I complied, happily. My mouth to her clit, hardly sucking it which makes Jieun moan with a loud groan in response. Besides her clit, I make sure to put good use of my tongue lapping around her pussy mouth before plunging it inside her. Jieun was so wet that my tongue easily went in and out of her pussy, tongue fucking her until she is close.

“Ahh, Yes, Keep going, Keep Going, please, I am gonna cum, please”

Hearing those words made me put more effort in making her climax. While I tongue fuck her with occasional clit sucking, I was also pressing my hand to her chest and kneading on it. It didn’t take long after such stimulation that she reached another climax.

Her legs trembling, her juices flowing out like waterworks, and I just slurped it all up like a thirsty man.

Finished with the foreplay, I took my time to have her and me to catch some breath. I went ahead for another attempt at kissing her. This time though, she accepted it. I guess she was just too tired to care about her persona, but that’s a win in my book. For the first time tonight, I finally felt a genuine connection. Our lips met in a slow passionate kiss that provided temporary relief after an intense session we just had.

When I pulled back from the kiss, I parted her legs once more, aligning my throbbing hard cock to her soaked entrance. “I am putting in now,” I told her.

As I put my penis inside her, she responded with a small groan as I penetrated her insides slowly. My penis slid in easily because of how wet she was already. I pushed further until my tip reached deep inside her as I felt I hit the entrance of her womb.

“Yes, keep going,” Jieun managed to utter between her heavy breaths.

With audible confirmation, I proceeded to pump her in and out of her pussy, slowly at first then gradually up the pace. Everytime I hit her cervix I could hear her louder moan. It was not long until Jieun reached another orgasm, just only after a few deep and fast thrusts by me.

The sound she made when she reached her orgasm after getting her pussy fucked, it did bring another level of pleassure to my ear. With that, out of the way, I didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath before once again I fucked her.

This time however, it is time for me to have my release. This time I pumped her hard and fast right from the beginning, and tried to get her close to climax as soon as possible. This time because of how sensitive she has become after her climax previously, her pussy was choking my cock. It felt so freaking hot and wet that made me closer to my limit.

“Ah, Ryo, I am close…” she cried out.

Placing my hands on her frame, pinned it to the mattress as I responded “I am close as well, I am going to finish inside. Jieun, please tell me you are safe.”

A smile appeared on her face, probably the first time since the start of this night. “I’m not safe,” she said through ragged breath and moans. “But don’t you dare pull out,” Jieun then wrapped her legs around my waist, locking me inside her.

With that said, my mind went wild, no more thoughts, just the pure lust to fill her with cum. No more holding back, she wanted this, WE wanted this. I threw away the tempo, thrusting deep inside her, poking at her cervix until I heard her moans mixed with her constant gasping for air.

“Cum inside me, please, cum inside me!” she screamed.

And with that, I slammed my full length inside her and I let go. I filled her womb with thick and warm cum. Jieun reached her orgasm alongside me, her walls milking every single drop out of my balls, and her lower body trembled feeling the warm sensation pooling inside her.

After that session, we laid in bed, just relaxed, feeling that post orgasm clarity.

“So, uh, Jieun, do you think we can do this again?”

Jieun didn’t answer immediately, then she said “only if you can give me another load tonight.” She faced away from me when she said that, but that really got my brain short circuited, and my cock hard again in no time.

Tonight, shall be a story untold.

======================================

A/N: This is probably my best creation in terms of smut writing so far. I hope I can be more efficient and create better story in the future. Thank you for reading.

[bunnsfw]

ᘏᘏ thirsty bunn thursdays male reader x magenta (qwer) ※ more of my works on fanprose

“Oppa~ stop being weird.” She’s on the cabin bed, propped up on her elbows, the wedding dress shoved up to her hips. Her heels are still on. Her hand is between her soft milky thighs, and it’s been there since you carried her in. The veil is haphazardly thrown on the floor by the front door, the bouquet is a mess next to it. The dress is soaked wet under her. “Come here immediately~”

You haven’t moved from the door.

“You keep saying that but you also just said I’m not allowed to come over there.”

“Did I really say that?” Her mouth forms a pout meant to destroy you.

“You said ‘don’t come over here until I tell you,’ which is, you know, the same thing.”

“Mhmmm.” She wrinkles her nose. “But that was at the chapel, babe.”

“That was half an hour ago.”

“And? Time flies when you’re trying to seduce your husband.”

Her hips lift a little. The wet sound is very faint and very specific. You think about closing your eyes but you decide not to.

“Oppa~”

“Yes, my wife?”

“You should see what I’m going to do to you tonight.” Her smile widens. “I’m going to make you put it in me so many times the cabin’s gonna get a noise complaint.”

“From who? The roaming wildlife outside? The deer? There’s no one out there.”

“Seems like you’ve thought about this.”

“I’ve thought about this all day, babe. Even while the officiant was talking.”

“Romantic.”

“Mhmm.” Her fingers move faster. “Come closer.”

You take three steps. The floorboards creak. She immediately lifts her right foot, heel still on, and tips it forward into the air toward you.

“Nope nope nope nope.”

You stop.

“Baby—”

“Did I say you could come that close?” She pouts. That pout again. The cutest thing in the world and it’s yours now. “I said come closer. Not, like, all the way.”

“Magenta.”

“Don’t ‘Magenta’ me.” She nudges the air with her heel and you take a small step back. “There. Stay.”

“This is my cabin too. I’m on the rental agreement.”

“It’s our cabin, Oppa, and on our cabin’s rental agreement I am the boss until I say I’m not. I’m pretty sure it’s clause four.”

“That doesn’t exist, babe.”

“There absolutely is. I added it just now.” Her hand still hasn’t stopped. “Stop arguing. I’m trying to be horny here.”

“You know what I’m thinking about right now?”

“Mhmm.” She tilts her head. “Tell me.”

“I’m thinking about how fast I can get this dress off you and how much of me I can put inside you before midnight.”

Her hand stutters.

“Oppa.”

“What?”

“You can’t just say things like that.” She bites her lip. “I’m going to lose.”

“Lose what?”

“The game. The waiting game. Where I make you wait. All. Night. Long~”

You unbuckle, unzip, take yourself out. You hear her inhale and you wait. She is staring. Her hand has slowed down. Her foot is still up in the air between you, holding the line.

“Okay that’s not fair.”

“You started it, baby.”

“I know I started it but you can’t just bring your cock out, like, that and expect me to keep my composure.”

“You’re going to cum in about thirty seconds.”

“How dare you.” But her hand is moving faster again. “Take that back, baby. I have so much stamina, yknow~.”

“You’re slurring your words now, baby. You’re losing your mind.”

“Oppa~”

“What.”

“Just shut up and let me cum.”

She bites her bottom lip hard and her hand moves faster and her thighs start to shake and the heel still pointed at you starts wobbling in the air. The bodice of the dress slips off one shoulder. She doesn’t notice. Her hair sticks to her forehead.

“Oppa—oh god, oppa, oppa I’m—”

She cums with her foot still half-raised between you and a moan she’d never make on a normal day. Her thighs clamp around her own hand. The heel finally drops to the duvet. Her toes curl inside it.

She doesn’t move for a moment.

“Oppa~”

“Yes, my wife?”

“I take it back.”

“Take what back?”

“All of it.” Her voice has gone soft. Wet. She’s still breathing hard. “Please come here.”

“You sure, baby?”

“Please. Please. Please. I want it now. I want to still feel it tomorrow. Please please please come breed me, oppa, now, please—”

You’ve never undressed yourself faster.

comment an idol you'd want featured on thirsty bunn thursdays and I'll feature them in the next installment. thirsty bunn thursdays are now also on fanprose.

[tripledubu]

When in Busan...

Triangle Offense Courtside Story feat. Dahyun smut, fluff A/N: Happy Dubu Day! Read on Fanprose

“Is she going with this dress or that one?”

“She’s wearing her hair up! Get the pins and the hairspray!”

“I think one of the make up bags is still in the car.”

“Guys! Which gown?”

“Can’t be, I brought them all up!”

“She’s going with the white heels!”

“Well I can’t find the bag! It has to be in the car!”

“I did a check of the van before going up and it was all clear!”

“Hey guys…” you manage to finally get a word in, “it fell under the coffee table. Here’s the bag.”

“Thanks, Chris.” one of the women says as she takes the bag from you. “SEE! I told you I brought it up!”

“Just hand the bag over. Jeez.”

When Dahyun invited you to come with her to the Busan International Film Festival, it felt like an easy yes. A free vacation to Korea’s beach capital? Who on earth would say no? Only bummer is that Sullyoon was busy recording for their comeback. Still, you thought it would be nice to get some alone time with Dahyun.

Thought being the operative word.

It’s kinda funny seeing a near-six footer with his knees up on the couch. Also because it's the only way you don’t be a distraction. You do your best not to get in anyone’s way, occasionally lifting your feet on to the couch so that people can pass freely. You see Dahyun being swarmed by her make-up artists, along with her stylists showing her the different dresses that she could wear for the red carpet. After a while, and getting dangerously close to her call time, you see Dahyun and her team settle on a dress. A white wedding gown that had you seeing glimpses of a future you hope would come to fruition. 

“How do I look?” Dahyun asks as she twirls around, showing off her look.

Like I could get down on one knee and propose. 

Is what you would have said if you didn't have self control. Or didn’t care that you didn’t have the ring ready. A coin flip honestly. 

“He’s speechless.” her makeup artist chuckles.

“That works for me.” her stylist exclaims. “Come on! We have to go down now or we’re going to be late for the red carpet.” she orders as she starts collecting last minute essentials for emergencies. Her manager does the same, grabbing an extra pair of sneakers along with a coat. Dahyun gets the finishing touches of her look on, some simple jewelry along with her heels. She goes over herself in the mirror one last time before turning to you.

“You really have nothing to say?” she asks with a tilted head.

“You’re perfect Dubu. No other words needed.” you give her a hug and a quick peck on the lips. “Have fun okay? And enjoy the moment. Don’t over think.” you remind her.

“I will— well, I’ll try. It’s just, first film festival and all…”

“You’re starting again.” you tease her. “Just live in the moment, Dubu. It’s yours. Enjoy it.”

“Okay.” she gives you a meek smile.

“Hey! You two can do the lovey dovey stuff later. Let’s get moving!” Dahyun’s manager stresses. You both chuckle before sharing one last kiss. She goes with her manager through the door, giving you one last look. God she’s breathtaking.

— — —

Throughout the night, you follow Dahyun and her events through the live link that she gave you. Seeing her walk the red carpet with that beautiful white gown had your heart fluttering (just a tiny bit jealous that she was walking with Jinyoung). Overall though? You were proud of her. You were happy for her. She’s achieving a part of her dream right now, and you’re doing your best to be by her side as she does so. Because she definitely did the same for you.

The stream of the event ended, and after attending the premiere of her movie, Dahyun returned to the hotel room a few hours later. She runs into your arms, exhilaration pouring out of her because of the adrenaline rush, along with the excitement of sharing stories from the night. That is until she gets a taste of the mattress. She’s snoring in seconds. 

— — —

The second day of the festival is just as hectic for Dahyun, especially since she has a full schedule of events. Considering how tired she was the night before (and how she slept through the takeout you ordered for her), you decide to order room service breakfast for her so she could continue to get ready in the room. After sharing a few pancakes and some fruit after she wakes, she gets whisked away by her team for the first of three cycles of hair and make up along with three outfit changes. Once again, you’re left alone in the hotel room with not a lot to do. You decide to go on a jog, maybe walk around town for a bit to kill some time. You sneak in to some of her events, just staying at the back of the crowd and watching her from afar (though somehow she still manages to spot you, two years together and you still have no clue how).

The rest of the day was uneventful for you. While Dahyun attends the Marie Claire awards dinner, you spend your night waiting in the room for her after a quick walk to a nearby fast food joint. You finish your food while watching Kingdom for the fourth time (it’s compelling, don’t blame yourself), and just as the clock is about to hit midnight that’s when you hear the door’s lock click.

You stand up to meet Dahyun in the entry way. She walks in slowly. Almost solemnly. In her hand is an award. You don’t get to read the inscription immediately though, as she immediately rushes towards you for a hug. Naturally, your arms wrap around her in reply. Though you're not without your questions.

“Hey.” hou whisper to her.

“Hey.” hhe whispers in reply.

“You won an award?” you ask.

“Yeah… Yeah.” she says as she suddenly remembers what the weight in her hands is. “Rising Star.”

“That’s great.” you reply, “I got you some takeout just in case you were hungry.”

“Thanks.” she says as she finally relents from the hug. “Though I don’t think I can eat right now.”

She gives you a meek smile before she continues walking. She sets down the award on the coffee table before she continues on. 

Dahyun walks out onto the balcony to get some fresh air. From her actions, you can tell that something’s bothering her, and the least you can do is be there for her. You slowly walk up behind and hug her waist. You start kissing her exposed shoulder before you bury your head into the crook of her neck. She reaches up for your face and gives you a peck on the cheek before she goes to look at the view again.

“Are you alright, dub? You look like you have a lot on your mind.” you ask.

“Yeah… It’s just… a bit overwhelming."

“How so?”

“All of it. It all still feels… surreal. I just started acting but I’m already attending a film festival. Hell, I even won an award. I still can’t believe it's happening. I can’t help but feel like I’m in over my head.” you hear her voice quiver. It’s one of the rare moments where her idol persona is unable to hold back her true feelings. “Seeing all the candybongs in the crowd was amazing. I really felt the fans’ support. But, it made me feel that all this: the two film roles, the festival, the award, that all of it was only handed to me because I’m an idol. It felt like… like I didn’t earn it.”

Dahyun’s confession sits between you as she continues to gaze out into the sea. You could tell that she was uncomfortable carrying those thoughts on her own throughout the past two days. It was taking their toll on her. You know you have to do something. Something that could take a bit of the weight off of her shoulders. 

“It’s normal, Dahyun. But you shouldn’t feel that way.” You hug her tighter, hoping the pressure matches the reassurance that you want to give her. “I’ve seen you work your ass off for this. You managed to add acting lessons in your already hectic schedule of being an idol. In between rehearsals, recording sessions, music show performances, even world tours. You put your mind and heart to it. You entered the industry with the utmost respect and reverence. There are tons of actors who started out as idols. Some decided to coast on their fame alone. You’re choosing not to. You decided to keep on studying, keep on training, keep on developing.”

“Did your fame as an idol help? Sure.” you argue as you spin her around, hands tightly gripping her exposed shoulders to let her know you’re sincere, “But, it was your hard work that got critics, directors and other actors to acknowledge you. It was your respect for the industry that earned, not just that award, but their respect as well. Okay?”

A tear falls down Dahyun’s cheek as she goes in to hug you tight. You give her one in reply, holding her close to let her know she’s all right. She looks up at you, all teary eyed but wearing a soft smile.

“When did you get so good at comforting people?” she asks jokingly.

“You and Yoona comforted me so much that I picked up a few things. Also the therapy sessions, not completely useless.” you both laugh over the last joke before she reaches up and plants a quick kiss on your lips. 

When Dahyun pulls back, you see her demeanor change in real time. The soft smile fades into something more serious. You’re worried that she might be getting in her own head again when she pulls you down for a deeper kiss. Her lips wrestle yours for control. Her tongue breaches into your mouth to clash against yours. In pulling you down towards her, she unknowingly starts moving back towards the balcony railings. Your hands act quickly, holding on to the cold metal before her exposed back makes contact. Her hands migrate from the back of your neck to your cheeks, holding your face as she continues to lap at you. 

“You know, Minju’s just a few rooms away.” Dahyun says when she pulls away wearing a cheeky grin on her face. “If you want, I can call little Min-Min over so we can have even more fun.”

“A tempting offer. Really.” you confess as you grab her hand and kiss it. “But we’re barely out of the dog house with Yoona after the car fun we had. Inviting one of her crushes for a threesome without her might send us right back in there.”

“I can’t believe she’s still holding that over our heads. We made her cum 5 straight times when we got home that night.” Dahyun complains. “AND she had you all alone for that little cheerleader role play you did during that festival.”

“She told you about that?”

“Yeah!” Dahyun exclaims. “And frankly I’m a bit jealous now too.” She jokes, making you both laugh. 

“Seriously though, I appreciate the offer. But tonight’s your night. I just want to focus on you.”

“Always the romantic.” Dahyun scoffs. “Gets offered a threesome with two actresses but turns it down for my sake.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who wants to fuck Minju here.”

“You’re lying if you say you don’t want to.” she chuckles. “Go ahead inside. I need a bit of fresh air after… that. Got myself all flustered.” She jokes. You just nod, holding her hand and kissing it before you head back in the room. When you’re out of earshot of the balcony, Dahyun directs her attention to the one two rooms away.

“Minju!” she tries to shout quietly.

“Unnie?” Minju’s head pops out of her room.

“No dice tonight. Maybe next time!” she whispers.

“It’s fine, Unnie!” Minju assures her. “Also, from what I heard, he sounds like a keeper. Enjoy the night, Unnie!” she says with a sly smile as she goes back in the room. The comment earns a chuckle from Dahyun, though the idea stays in her mind as she steps back into the room.

As Dahyun comes back in from the balcony, you’re finally given the chance to appreciate her look in its entirety. The black dress that Michael Kors sent her looks fucking amazing as it contrasts her bright pale skin. The embroidered flowers throughout the dress gives it some texture and detail that naturally draws your gaze. The best part? The back. Or the lack of it. The dress is backless, exposing Dahyun’s smooth and perfect back to the world. Her porcelain skin is perfectly framed by the dress. It leaves almost nothing to the imagination and is probably one of her most daring outfits yet.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Dahyun’s question shakes you out of the trance.

“What? Oh, sorry.” you mutter in response “It’s just my first proper look of you in that dress. It looks so fucking good on you.”

“You know, you say that about every outfit I wear.” she says as she starts walking to you.

“Well it’s true. And there’s a common denominator among them anyway.” you respond as you meet her, your hands finding her waist again while your fingers rest on her exposed back. 

“Which is?”

“You.” you say before you give her a quick peck. “You make all those outfits look good.”

“I could be wearing a garbage bag and you’ll say I look good.” she jokes.

“Guilty as charged.” you say with a smirk before capturing her lips again, now in a searing kiss.

Dahyun reaches up, arms wrapping around your neck, fingers locking behind your nape, pulling you in for a much deeper kiss than what you had planned. You reciprocate it at first, tempted to let yourself drown in the taste of her lips. You almost give in, but you decide to push through with what you initially intended.

You spin Dahyun around, your lips finding property on her neck once again. You don’t spend any more time with quick pecks. Now you’re out to mark her, suck on your flesh to let people know she’s yours.

“Fine. I’ll admit it, dubu.” you tease her as your fingers lightly caress her back. “I do have one gripe with the dress. I got a bit jealous that you were flaunting around your perfect back. I thought this was just for me?”

“It is– oh!” she falters when your lips make contact with her skin. “Just -mhmm- teasing onces. Just showing off something that they can never have.”

“Because you’re the only one who can touch me the way I want.”

Your fingers continue to dance on her skin.

“The only one who can hold me the way I want.”

Your palms make contact, caressing her back and muscles.

“The only one who can kiss me the way I want.”

Your lips make contact again. Deeper this time. Enough suction to make a mark on her pale skin.

“The only one allowed to taste me.”

Your tongue finally gives in, licking her. Tasting her.

You don’t bother with a reply. Instead, you push the straps of her dress down her shoulders. Gravity does the rest for you. The contrast of the black gown as it falls down Dahyun’s perfect  and pale figure is mesmerizing before it pools on the floor. She steps out of the pooled fabric left only in her panties, rushing into your arms and pulling you down into a kiss. She reaches for the hem of your shirt, eager to have you match her state of undress. You indulge her, helping her with your shirt as you pull it over and off your head. Her hands move to your pants, desperately trying to undo your belt before you move in to help her again. When you’re left only in your boxers, she jumps into your embrace. Her arms wrap around your neck while her legs lock around your hips. One of your hands wraps around her back while the other grips on her thigh to keep her up. 

“So what does the rising star want to do tonight?” you ask Dahyun in between kisses.

“I wanted to fuck minju.” she jokes as she whines against your lips.

“Aside from that.”

“Fine… How about we just have some fun, you fuck me real good, fill me to the fucking brim, and make sure I’ll be sleeping soundly on the train ride back to Seoul?”

“I can work with that.” you joke back with a smirk.

You adjust Dahyun in your embrace, peeling her legs from your hips before hooking them in your arm. She yelps in surprise from the sudden movement, before giggling when she realizes why.

“Bridal carry? Really? Did the gown from the other night give you some ideas?”

“Maybe” you joke before she kisses you again.

“Where’s the ring?” she jokes against your lips.

“We’ll get there.”

In a few quick steps, you carry Dahyun to the bed, where you lay her gently in the middle. You take your place in between her legs. She reaches out to you, so you lean down, letting her hold your face and pull you into a kiss.

By now, the two of you have developed a cycle with these trysts, and honestly, you could never forgive yourself if you don’t get Dahyun to cum with your mouth at least once. 

With that, you separate from her lips to her dismay, but quickly remedy that by trailing kisses down her hourglass figure. Each one has her trembling on the bed. From her cheek, to her chin, to her neck, to her breasts and the space in between. You’re tempted to stop at her stomach, feeling the ridges of her muscles on your lips as they hide underneath the smoothness of her perfect midriff, instead you move on. You’ll come back to that later.

When you come face to face with Dahyun’s covered core, you can’t help but go crazy over the contrast that the black lace has against her porcelain white skin. You give her thighs a few quick and teasing pecks before you actually settle down. Your hands run up her legs, stopping at the bands of her underwear. You hook them in your fingers as she raises her hips, a tale old dance that the two of you have grown accustomed to. You pull her underwear down her legs, entranced as the black cloth sails down her white limbs. When you get it off, you throw it aside as she spreads her legs.

The view? Mesmerizing.

Her scent? Intoxicating.

Her taste? Ambrosial. 

You dive back into Dahyun’s core, trailing kisses, licks, and bites along her thighs that have her shaking before stopping at her lower lips. You let your warm breath linger on her sensitive core, which makes her sit up on her elbows and watch you with anticipation. When your gazes meet, your eyes stay glued to hers as you give her the first lick.

“Oh fuck!”

Then another.

“God, Chris!”

Then another.

“Fuck– Just like that!”

Repeat it. Over and over and over again. Each lick getting faster. Each one reaches deeper. Parting her lower lips and getting a taste of her inner walls. From just above her puckered hole to just below her enlarged sensitive nub. Earning each moan that escapes from her throat.

Every lick brings Dahyun closer and closer to the edge, though you knew what would actually bring her over it. When you focus your mouth on her clit, you ease in two fingers into her before pumping at a relentless pace. Her eyes widen from the sudden intrusion, along with you putting pressure on her sensitive spots inside.

“Holy fuck! God— Right there! Chris -huff- baby making me feel so fucking good.”

Your mouth and fingers take turns working on her inner walls, making a slurry of curses and moans pour out of her mouth. You take her to her absolute limit before rubbing just the right spot and sucking on her clit, making her moan out a final warning.

“God! I’m close! Just like that babe, please! I’m close! I’m close! I’m—”

Dahyun doesn’t get to finish her thought as the pleasure of her climax takes over and an ear-piercing cry rips from her throat. Her body folds in half, upper body sitting up, as she grabs on to your head and pushes you deeper. Her thighs snap around your head, cutting off the circulation to your brain. Even woozy, you continue eating her out and pumping your fingers into her as she rides her high. Her hips start grinding against your face, as if her hands weren’t pushing you deep enough into her core. You capture the gushes of her juices with your tongue, tasting the sweet product of your efforts.

Eventually, Dahyun comes down from her high. The grip of her hands and thighs loosen as she melts back into the bed. A satisfied smile adorns her face as you slowly travel up her body, trailing kisses that leave shiny marks thanks to your lips still coated in her arousal. You get sidetracked a bit, taking your time licking the sweat that formed on her midriff and chest, but you eventually make your way to her lips. She welcomes yours, laps her tongue against your lips and mouth to get a taste of herself. Her arms rest on your shoulders while a hand gets its fingers tangled in your hair. When you both pull away, you rest your forehead on hers as a soft and satisfied smile forms on her face. She’s ready to take a few moments of rest as she comes down from her high.

But you don’t plan on letting her.

You grab your fully hard and aching length and tease her lower lips at first, swiping your tip up and down to part her lips before you nestle at her entrance. Dahyun’s eyes widen when she feels this, unsure if she’s ready.

“Chris— babe, wait. I’m still sensitive. I don’t think—”

“I know, but trust me. I’ll make you feel good.”

You start pushing in slowly. Dahyun’s eyes roll back in pleasure as she bites her lower lip to stifle her moans. She holds on to you tighter with every inch of yourself you push into her. Her mouth finally betrays her when you bury your length inside her, unable to stifle the moan that escapes from her throat. You give her a second to adjust to you filling her up before you start pulling your hips back. Just as your tip is barely exiting her, you snap your hips back, filling her completely in one swift move. She mewls from the sudden feeling, digging her nails into your back from the shock.

You repeat the action, starting with a slow and steady pace. For now, you let Dahyun’s heightened sensitivity drive the tryst. The feeling of her walls fluttering around your dick as they cling to your shaft while you pull out is only comparable to heaven, thankfully it is for the both of you.

A constant stream of moans start to flow out of Dahyun’s mouth, letting you know she is enjoying this as well. Her uncertainties from earlier are gone. Now, she melts into your embrace and the pleasure you’re giving her, even if her grip on your back doesn’t relent.

“Feeling good, dub?”

“So– GOD! So fucking good baby. Filling– oh fuck! Filling me up so much!”

You can’t help but smirk from Dahyun’s reaction. You take it as a sign to pick up the pace. The sound of skin slapping on skin increases and quickens as you start to properly fuck her like she wants. Each drive has you reaching deeper into her, pressing your tip against the entrance of her womb. Each thrust has your shaft rubbing against the sensitive parts of her inner walls. You’re sprinting the both of you to the finish line, but it seems like she has something else in mind.

As you continue to piston in and out of Dahyun, you notice her gaze drift to the open balcony before meeting your eyes again. She doesn’t say a single word, but you already know what she’s thinking.

“Are you sure?” you ask her as you pause your movements.

She takes a moment to think about it before a smile forms on her face. She nods her head to confirm.

You can’t help but smirk as you relent to her wishes. Pulling out of her as you stand up from the bed. She reaches up with both arms, making you hold on to her hands as you pull her up. She giggles as you get her up on her feet, even more so when you pepper her hands with kisses. She reaches up to give you a quick peck in reply before she makes her way to the open balcony.

Dahyun takes her place on the balcony, both hands on the railings as she leans against the metal. Her pale skin glows in the darkness, reflecting the little light that came from the moon and your room. She takes in the view of the dark sea and the lights of the skyscrapers from farther down the beach. The cool ocean breeze that hits her naked figure makes her shudder a bit, though you quickly remedy that by hugging her from behind. She looks over your shoulder, reaches for your cheek and brings you in for a fiery kiss. When your lips separate, she whispers her final order.

“Fucking rail me.”

An apt request that makes you chuckle. You ease your length back into her, making her moan out into the night sky.

You do away with the ceremony of starting off slow and building up your pace. That’s not what Dahyun wants. Instead, you begin fucking her with the same pace you had already built up before the two of you moved to the balcony. Like she wants you to. Her knuckles turn white as she holds on to the railing tighter from the pleasure. Your hands are restless. One second you have your fingers sinking deep into the flesh of her hips as you continue to pound her from behind. The next second, you’re reaching under her to knead her mounds in your palms. The next you’re ghosting her arms before joining her hands at the railings, countering the cold of the metal with the warmth of your skin. Your bodies are close as your hips are left as the only parts moving.

It’s unrelenting. Frantic. A final sprint that you hope would bring you both to nirvana. Not only does it do its job, but it causes her to lose control as well.

Dahyun doesn’t bother to stifle her moans anymore. In fact, she lets them rip out of her throat at her loudest volume.

“You’re pretty loud, dub.” you try to caution her. “Aren’t you afraid someone might hear?”

“God— let them.” she sighs.

“You’re not scared of being seen like this? Bent over and being pounded from behind?”

“No. Fuck no.” she says in between moans. “Let them -FUCK- let them see what they’re missing out on. Let them see -oh god- what they can’t have. Let them see what belongs only to you.”

“Say that again.” you whisper to her as you lean down. “I need to hear it, dubu.”

“I’m yours, Chris. I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours, Dahyun.”

Dahyun looks over her shoulder and reaches for your face again. She pulls you in, capturing your lips into a searing and passionate kiss. You reply by holding her close, arms wrapping around her waist as you start giving her your all.

You’re not sure if it was the kiss.

You’re not sure if it was the words.

But you feel the familiar burn in your gut. Signalling the inevitable. Fortunately for you, you could feel Dahyun’s walls start to flutter around you as well.

“Dahyun -fuck- Dub I’m close!”

“Me too! -oh god- together Chris! Inside! Make me yours and you’ll be -FUCK- you’ll be mine.”

Your lips find hers again as you bury yourself deep into Dahyun. Like her plea, you both reach your peaks at the same time. You feel the first throb of your dick shoot the first string of cum into her waiting womb just as her walls start to contract around you. Your arms wrap tighter around her waist as you hold her as close as possible, your naked bodies flush against one another. The two of you stay still as you continue to throb into her and fill her up while her walls continue to spasm and milk you for all you have. 

Your combined gasps and pants escape out into the open air as the two of you start to come down from your shared high. True to her personality, Dahyun starts giggling as she rests her head against the guard rail. You can’t help but laugh too as your forehead rests on her back. She stands up straight first, making you straighten up as well. Her hands reach back to your face, pulling you in for one last deep kiss. When she pulls away she gives you a smile before making a request.

“I think I’m in the mood for the take out now.”

You can’t help but chuckle.

“I’ll heat it up.”

You pull out of Dahyun with a few drops of your combined release dripping on the balcony floor. She shudders from the sudden emptiness, as well as from her shaky legs as she struggles to stay up right and walk. To keep her from falling, you take her into your arms again, carrying her across the room and setting her down on the couch. Once she’s settled, you go heat up her food for her.

— — —

“So what time is your train leaving… later?” you ask Dahyun while she’s eating.

“Manager said we’re taking the 10 am train.”

“It’s almost four. You barely have any time for sleep.”

“I’ll sleep on the train. Besides, there’s something else we can do that might fit the time frame…” Dahyun suggests with a cheeky smile.

“Round two?” she exclaims.

“A shower?” you blurt out.

“I mean…” Dahyun tries to bargain. “We can do round two in the shower?”

“Your manager’s gonna hate me.” you joke as you relent to her wishes.

“She already does.” Dahyun chuckles as she finishes her food. She then grabs your wrist and stands up, heading for the bathroom. “Now come on! Quit wasting time.”

You can’t help but laugh as she drags you to the bathroom and into the shower. As your shared laughs echo in the small space and your hands are already on each other, your mind drifts back to the declarations you both made on the balcony.

She is yours.

You are hers.

Almost like professing vows. The similarities to nuptial traditions aside, you’re ready for what those declarations entail. 

You’ll always be there to support her.

No matter how far she’ll go.

[tripledubu]

Domestic Drabble: Quiet Night

Triangle Offense Courtside Story feat. Dahyun smut A/N: Happy Dahyun Day! Read on Fanprose

“Good book?”

“Yeah.” Dahyun replies as she rests her head on your chest while reading. “A script came in that’s based on it. I thought it would be good to see the source for myself.”

“You always like getting a headstart, don’t you?” you joke as you bring your attention back to the show on the TV.

Quiet nights like these are rare. Hectic schedules always get in the way of any of you managing to get some free time, even more so getting a quiet night for all three of you at the same time. Still, it makes these rare occasions special. Something you and the girls cherish when you get the chance to. Tonight, you get the chance to do so with Dahyun. Sullyoon’s concentrating on NMIXX’s new album, so she’s spending more time in the dorm.

Dahyun’s focused on the book, which is surprising considering she got bored with the script almost immediately. Could just be dissonance between the author and the producers. You’re catching up on a few movies from back home. They’re entertaining and interesting, you won’t deny that. It’s just, there’s something else that captures your attention. Technically someone else.

Your eyes gravitate to Dahyun as she snuggles up to you while she reads her book. Her head’s resting on your chest and shoulder, her legs sitting across your thighs. You can’t help but think how good she looks in that oversized (your) sweater, with her shorts just peeking out from under the hem. Beyond them, were her thighs, which always gets you in a trance. Normally, the two of you would already be all over each other to fully utilize a night alone together, but she unfortunately has an early schedule the following day. Meaning sex was off the table. However, an idea starts to form in your head, and you can’t help but smirk as you enact your naughty plan.

You adjust Dahyun’s position, having her fully sit on your lap. Her back presses against your chest as she remains unfazed by your sudden action. Your arms stay wrapped around her waist for a moment before they traverse downwards of her body. You stop at her thighs, letting your finger tips dance on her milky white skin. You never fully grab her. You just tease her with soft and light touches, going up and down from her knees to her upper thigh. Her body stiffens a bit. Her breaths start to become deeper. Throughout all that, she remains focused on her book. Or, at the very least, acts like it.

“Chris…” Dahyun mutters under her breath. “Babe… We can’t…”

“I know.” You whisper in her ear. “That doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel good.” 

Your fingertips are replaced by your palms, with you now massaging her thighs instead of just teasing them. You grip her flesh hard, kneading them between your fingers. You didn’t have to ask if she likes it. The moan that escapes her mouth does the job. She tries to stifle the rest from escaping her mouth by biting her lower lip, but it’s a futile attempt.

Your massage is deliberate. Not just randomly kneading her flesh at random spots, no. You start off at her knees again, gripping her flesh hard and letting them sit in between your fingers. When you feel her soften, you start slowly moving up while repeating your actions until you're barely an inch away from her core. You couldn’t see it since she was facing away from you, but you knew she wasn’t focused on her book anymore. Her body was tense on top of you. You could tell her eyes were darting from the words on the page to her thighs, heavily anticipating your touch. Instead, you continue to tease her. Your actions just barely get you close before you move back down again. Her breath quickens with anticipation. She tries to nudge her body just the slightest bit to finally get you to touch her, only for you to move down in response.

You could feel it. Dahyun was getting desperate for your touch.

To make it even more unbearable for her, your lips start ghosting her neck. You never make contact, letting your hot breath crash against her porcelain skin with each of your breaths. She shudders from the sensation, unable to focus on either. Her eyes close from the pleasure, unable to bear the teasing anymore. Suddenly, they’re shocked open when it happens.

Your knuckle accidentally but maybe also intentionally brushes against her crotch, her lower lips getting caught and spread open under shorts. Dahyun shudders hard on top of you. The slightest touch almost brings her to her climax. It’s driving her insane, with you being so close yet still so fucking far.

That’s when you feel it.

Dahyun melts in your embrace. She shudders from your touch. Her arms drop to her side, along with the book crashing on to the couch. Her mouth betrays her as she starts muttering in her softest voice possible.

“Please…” 

“What was that, dub?” you whisper into her ear before going back to breathing hot air all over her shoulder and neck.

“Please… touch me…” She whispers again.

“I need to hear you say it, Dahyun.” your voice may be soft, but she feels the authoritativeness. Your hands go back to the top of her thighs, focusing all your action just close enough to her core that it drives her insane. One hand travels above her shorts, playfully breaching the garter but never fully entering. It’s what finally pushes her off the edge

“Oh god— Oh fuck! For fuck’s sake! Just fuck me, babe! Please! I need you!”

Her plea satisfies you. In sync, your lips finally make contact with her neck just as your hand breaches her shorts and makes contact with her folds. The audible moan that escapes from Dahyun’s throat echoes in the living room. Her whole body shudders from the fruits of her anticipation. You ease in two fingers into her soaking core, your thumb and palm putting pressure on her inflamed clit. You grant her wish, pumping your digits into her sopping cunt at a relentless pace, rewarding her for surviving the edging you put her through. Your thumb and palm stay  glued to her clit, pressing on it, kneading it, playing it to maximize her pleasure.

By now, Dahyun’s a moaning wreck, squirming in your embrace as you continue to pump your fingers into her. Your other hand, unfortunately, abandons her thighs and sneaks under her sweater, tracing a path over her smooth tummy and being pleasantly surprised by the lack of a bra. The second you take one of her mounds in your grasp, she moans— nearly shouts at the top of her lungs in approval.

“God, babe! You’re— you’re making me -FUCK- feel so fucking good!”

You don’t reply since your mouth is still attached to her neck. Instead of words, you reply by kneading the soft flesh of her tits in your hands, pinching and pulling her hardened peaks before letting them dance in the spaces between your fingers. You also ramp up the actions of your other hand. Your thumb presses on her clit, flicking it occasionally. Your fingers start pumping into her harder and faster, pushing deep and rubbing her most sensitive spots. She’s restless in your hold as the moans continue to pour out of her mouth. Her hips buck against your hand, meeting every thrust of your digits, driving you deeper into her. It only takes a few more pumps, rubbing the right spot before—

“Oh fuck! Babe– Chris! I’m close! I’m close! I’m—”

Dahyun cries out in pleasure when the wave of pleasure hits her. Her body arches up and away from you as she tenses up. Her hips stutter in meeting you as you continue to pump into her through her orgasm. Gushes of her nectar crash against your digits, soaking your hands, her shorts and everything surrounding the area. Your mouth latches on to her neck, kissing and sucking on her flesh as added stimulation, marking her skin for yourself. 

The slurry of moans and gibberish pouring out of Dahyun finally slows down, being replaced by her labored breaths. She melts in your embrace, going limp on top of your body. When you finally latch off from her neck, you see the blissful look on her face. Half-lidded eyes matched with a satisfied smile. You give her a quick peck on her cheek before you lean into her ear. 

“So…” you whisper to her “did you feel good?”

“Yes…” she mutters under her labored breath “fucking… yes. Fucking ruined my shorts.”

“To be fair, you ruined mine too.” You retort with a joke as she notices that she also soaked yours.

“I’m… I need a shower.” She says as she stands on shaky legs. Her shorts and underwear finally succumb to gravity, hitting the ground and pooling at her ankles before she steps out of them. She starts making her way to the bathroom but then notices that you’re still sitting down.

“I thought by now you would know that’s an open invitation.” She says as she looks over her shoulder. You spring to your feet, whiff her off of hers, and carry her the rest of the way to the shower.

She ends up late to her schedule the next day.

[tripledubu]

Repeating Reels (and New Beginnings)

TWICE Kim Dahyun x Male Reader Fluff Based on Over October's Ikot A/N: Happy Dubu Day! Read on Fanprose

“Are we there yet?” Dahyun asks you as she tries to sneak a peek from under the blindfold.

“Almost.” You reply. “And don’t peek. You’ll ruin the surprise.” Your hand continues to hold hers as you guide her through the winding hallways. Eventually, you make it to your destination. “Alright, we’re here.” You say as you untie the blindfold. “Open your eyes… now!”

When she opens her eyes, Dahyun’s greeted with a small and intimate cinema. In the middle are two reclining lounge chairs, a tub of popcorn on each seat, and an old-timey film projector set-up behind them. Her mouth’s left agape in awe with what you were able to set up.

“Happy Birthday, Dubu.” you whisper the greeting as you wrap your arms around her waist. Her shocked expression turns into a beaming smile before she turns her head and gives you a quick peck on the lips.

“This is amazing. Thank you.” She whispers back as she lays her head on your chest.

“I got all your favorites. But, there’s one thing I’ve been meaning to show you first.” Dahyun gives you a puzzled look, but it’s wiped away as you guide her to her seat. She sinks into the plush leather with the bucket of popcorn sitting in her lap. You go to the projector and set-up the film reel. After pressing a few buttons, the projector slowly whirs to life. The reels start spinning and a light beams on to the screen. A countdown from 10 starts winding down on the projection, signalling you to take your seat beside Dahyun. She’s curious as to what you had in store, but when the scenes start rolling she could feel the tears start to build up.

The first scene was from one of your first dates. Maybe the fourth or fifth, if Dahyun could remember it properly. It was the two of you walking hand in hand along the Han River. The sky was painted orange, the sun sinking in the far off horizon. You were recording Dahyun, seeing her laugh as you told her corny joke after corny joke. Back in the present, Dahyun’s grip on your hand grows tighter as she rests her head on your shoulder.

The next scene that pops up is from when the two of you finally decided to move in together. Dozens of boxes were scattered in your, used to be, barren home. You and Dahyun were zipping around the empty living room, carrying boxes, unpacking plates, utensils, kitchenware, and other appliances. It ends with the two of you sitting on the floor, surrounded by empty boxes, tired from unpacking. She was leaning on you, just like how she was now, talking about future plans for the house while the two of you were eating take out. Your attention is momentarily taken from the screen when you feel her grip on your hand loosen, only for her to start hugging the rest of your arm.

With every memory that plays on the screen, Dahyun’s hold on you gets tighter as she tries to hold back the tears. Your first trip together. Every celebration of your anniversary for the past five years. The first time you met her parents and her meeting yours. The silent nights of laying in bed or on the couch while reading books or watching movies together. The lazy Sunday mornings of making breakfast for each other. Each treasured memory that flashes on the screen reminds the both of you of your shared journey, how far you’ve both come while being at each other’s sides.

As the scenes continue to roll, subtitles start flashing at the bottom of the screen.

“It’s only you.”

“It will always be you.”

“I dream of growing old with you.”

“I hope to be with you until the end.”

“You’re the only one my restless heart yearns for.”

Dahyun finally lets the tears fall as she reads the messages. At this point, she’s close to sobbing on your shoulder, making you wonder if you did too good of a job. 

As the scenes start to fade away, the final message burns on the film. An audible gasp escapes from Dahyun’s mouth, in between the sobs, as she feels your arm leave her embrace. When the message is fully clear on the screen, she turns to your direction. There she sees you. 

Out of the seat. 

On the floor on bended knee. 

A ring in hand to complement the message on the screen.

“Will you marry me?”

Your eyes are locked to hers. Both of you are on the verge of tears. She smiles through the sobs and joins you on the floor. In a moment that lasts a lifetime, she whispers the one syllable reply that makes you the happiest man alive.

“Yes.”

After the word leaves her mouth, the tears start streaming down your face. You pull her in for a hug, your lips meeting to seal the decision. Even if your lips separate, you hold her close and tight. Unwilling to let her go. Unwilling to let the moment pass. Eventually, it does. 

You both rise to your feet, still holding on to each other. You sit down, Dahyun still in your arms as she sits across your lap. Her head rests on your chest as she admires the engagement ring on her finger. When her eyes finally leave the diamond, she meets yours while looking up. She beams you a bright smile, eyes still glassy from the tears shed earlier. You can’t help yourself and kiss her again. When you pull away, she asks you:

“What’s next?”

Who knew a simple question could have a multitude of meanings. It could mean which movie the two of you were finally going to watch. It could mean something more with what’s next in your intertwined lives. A loaded question that could carry on for decades. For you, it didn’t matter. Whatever you may face, you’re sure about one thing. With Dahyun, you knew you would be able to surpass it. 

Together.

[defmaybe]

teeth

minju! x reader

2.4k words

"You're the first solar that I've ever talked to, actually."

"I'm honored. Am I gonna be interviewed now?"

"Only if you want."

It's Friday, and this rooftop bar feels good at night. The fact that there's no sun to set your skin ablaze certainly does help. There is chatter happening behind the two of you, though you're not swayed from this ethereal woman standing in front of you. Her hair is a gorgeous black, with her pointy ears poking out on the sides.

"You can ask — ice-breaking and all."

"What if I say something offensive?"

"I'll tell you."

Her eyes are cute. They're alternating between yours and the amber-tinted drink in her hand. The crop top leaves her toned midriff exposed to the summer night, and the jeans outline her legs well. You feel a bit despondent about your outfit choice tonight — a basic black long sleeves, a pair of cargo pants — but it's like the fashion for men is diverse.

"What are you working on right now?" Minju asks.

"It's a website — another website. It looks different from the last one, but I see nothing because I work on the backend," and you shrug. "I thought you'd be more personal with the questions."

Minju chuckles. You notice her ears twitching slightly. "I'm more vulgar than offensive, actually."

You raise your eyebrows a bit, but there's also this curiosity to gamble on her next words. Alas, she's pretty enough for you to tolerate her questions. "Morbid curiosity — how vulgar are we talking?"

Minju downs the drink suddenly — probably about eclipsing that shyness. She makes an almost painful expression as a result of whatever is going on in her esophagus.

"So," and it's almost a squeal from Minju, "when you give a blowjob, blood is flowing to your partner's dick, right? Have you ever had the urge to, like, bite into it and suck the blood out with your fangs?"

You blink, and there's almost a gasp leaving your mouth. "That was simultaneously vulgar and offensive."

Minju gives you an awkward smile. "Yeah, sorry, I'll see myself out now." She takes a step backward, so ready to leave you alone tonight.

"I can't answer that because I've never sucked a dick," and you smile, stopping her departure. "I guess I could ask you something filthy too?"

"Oh," and Minju tilts her head a little. "If you wanna make it even, sure."

"Alright." You take a deep breath, almost not believing the words that are about to come out of your mouth. "Have you ever gotten your dick sucked by a vampire?"

—

Minju's room is basic, to be honest. She doesn't seem to be the decorative type, aside from her family photo and a few Ikea plushies supporting her back right now. You notice her headphones having bigger ear cushions than yours. It helps with prolonged use to not have her ears folded and ruin their shapes.

"How the fuck am I going to tell the doctor if you actually bite into my dick?" and Minju laughs. Her hand is ruffling your hair tenderly as you kiss the tip of her cock continuously. It's twitching against your lips. Her hard nipples are visible under the crop top.

"Snakebite on the toilet?" you joke back, only to realize that the situation is actually possible. You've heard one of your friends having a snake slithering through the pipe before.

Minju lets out another chuckle. "That works, I guess."

"I wore braces back in high school, if that helps," you tell her with your mouth still warming her tip. "Was a pain to get rid of the blood after drinking though."

"Lucky that you didn't suck dicks back then."

"At least cum blends in with the color of my teeth?"

Minju ponders your words for a bit as you slide your hand on her cock languidly. She throbs in your palm with a consistent rhythm, with your warm breath over her skin. "It's too dark and I'm too drunk to see your teeth, so I'll believe that they're seminal white."

You just laugh heartily before wrapping your lips around Minju's shaft again. She moans quietly at the pillowy sensation of you, grasping your hair a tad tighter. You let your tongue lap the underside of her in your mouth. Her woody perfume fills your nostrils along with the slight sweat from your walk back together.

"Wow, fuck, you're good," Minju whines, putting force into the back of your head harsher than before. You force yourself down her cock further until she begins to probe the back of your throat. There are these gagging and retching sounds coming from your neck, and you just keep pushing until your lips touch her pubic bone.

Your eyes become all teary from the struggle against Minju's cock nudging your pharynx — just a few millimeters past your uvula. Regardless of the discomfort, you slide your tongue all over her length, lathering your spit and leaking drool all over. Minju just moans shamelessly, letting her voice echo inside her medium-sized apartment. Let's hope her neighbors work at night.

You decide to pull back a bit eventually, having your lips dragged along her foreskin and prompting louder groans from Minju. Then, you push back in, and it just becomes a wet loop between your fangy mouth and her shaven cock. There's utterly zero desire to sink your fangs into her skin and suck the blood out of her. It's not really a crime — an accident between a vampire's mouth and a person — but you'd rather drink her cum right now.

"Fuck," Minju rasps, mind all scattered and starting to control the pace of your head with her hand. Her hips are thrusting up into your mouth instinctively as well, jabbing your throat in a repeated motion. You're choking and struggling to breathe, obviously. But her elated expression — watched through these tears — it's giving you the energy to make Minju pump her seed into you.

There are some risks associated with getting a blowjob from an individual with fangs, of course, but there's also the thrill of the danger of your sharpness teasing her foreskin like this. Moreover, despite all the technologies, it's still a rare occurrence to get into this situation — getting a vampiric blowjob as a non-vampiric person. You haven't met many solar folks in this city since your graduation. Park Minju is getting one of the unique heads of her life here.

"Hey, hey, can I try something with you?" and Minju loosens her hold on the back of your head.

You get off her cock for an inquiry, and there's your drool all over. "What is it?"

"Can I take a photo?" Minju asks with a toothy smile, and you're nervous, to be honest. It's definitely weird to have yourself photographed by someone you just met, especially when you're sucking their cock.

Minju knows the weight of the situation, however, and she continues, "It's a polaroid, and I'll give it to you."

You blink, still unsure of the ins and outs of the situation. "A picture of me sucking your dick?"

"A picture of us!" Minju persuades. "You appear in a polaroid, right?"

"I appear on my iPhone camera, so I guess so? Why would you wanna do this, though? You get nothing here."

"I'm a photographer at heart," Minju says with a smile. "I'd be one if I'm not in healthcare."

You smile as well. "Do I have to pose?"

—

You lying down on your back really makes her cock hitting awfully deep inside your throat.

"Place your hand on your neck," Minju instructs, also gently bringing your hand there as well. Her palm is soft against the back of your fingers. "Feel me."

The sensation is overwhelming — her perfume and sweat, her girth, her face through your tears. You're shaking and choking on her cock desperately, though you're doing nothing — thigh squeeze to abort — to stop her from ravaging your body like this.

Minju pushes herself deep into you. And when your hand is on your own neck, you can feel it being stretched by her length. She's stealing your air, and you're more than ecstatic to let her do that. Under her hand, you're touching the bulge from Minju's cock.

"Tell me if it's too much."

You give her just a weak smile — something close to it. You can still breathe at half capacity, and she's gorgeous enough for her dick to earn a place inside you. Her hand trembles on top of yours, and you know she's reveling in this as much as you are.

She reaches for the polaroid camera sitting beside you on her bed, eventually. Her dexterity is to be admired — her hardness in your throat, one hand on your neck, the other hand holding a camera. She messes with the device a bit before lifting it up high. You're both going into this photo.

"This should work," Minju says, not moving her hips by a single bit. Her cock is still putting your throat to work here. She looks away from you — aesthetic reasons — and you see a flash coming from the camera.

The device cries softly as it prints out the image. Minju drags herself out of your throat, letting you bask in the ridges and veins on her cock. Your spit falls down to the floor, and it's a goddamn mess down there. Her dick glistens against the coppery light from her bedside lamp. And with her beauty, they just complement each other perfectly.

"I'll put it here," Minju states, and she places the photo on the bedside table. "Don't forget to take it when you're leaving!"

"Sure," you respond weakly, hand still finding the missing bump in your throat subconsciously. "You should fuck me again now, though."

Minju giggles happily. "Do you want some fuckery with that as well?"

"What kind of fuckery?" and you tilt your head. It's a weird angle upside down, but you think she gets the sentiment.

Minju grins, and she slides the tip of her cock on your lips. You open your mouth. She's making a bulge inside you again in a heartbeat.

This time, however, it's a tad fancier.

You feel her shaft getting warmer. It feels like drinking a mushroom soup that has been out of the pot for a minute. At one point, you're afraid that she's going to set your throat ablaze with her cock, but the temperature stabilizes at a comfortable level for you.

"My friend taught me this in college. They just told me how to do it with my fingers, but I also messed around with it a bit."

You only see her balls glowing in a yellowish shade, but you figure that the entire organ is probably shining. Your hand hovers over your neck, and there's some light glowing out of you.

"I think it's visually sexy," Minju says sultrily. "Seeing my fat cock doing wonders to your throat."

You hum back as a response, trying to make it sound like you're satisfied with the act.

"Thanks," and Minju giggles. "Elves just don't have that much power for magic. This is probably the best I could do."

You pick up the camera beside you and hand it to her. There's a desire to see how your throat is faring with Minju nestling and glowing inside it. To be captured in a piece of film invokes something within you, it seems.

"One, two, three!"

The device cries softly again as it prints the image out slowly. Minju stashes it along with the first photo, and the proper fucking in your throat resumes.

Minju slides her cock in and out of your mouth, and you're helplessly drooling all over her floor. You shudder every time she hilts inside you, yet you don't attempt a single thigh squeeze to halt her rough movements. She moans and grunts above you almost ferociously. There's a flash in your mind of her deep voice being attractive.

Your hand feels your own throat getting bulged repeatedly in a punishing fashion. The light is still there, and you're pretty sure that Minju is feasting at the sight of her luminous hardness stretching you open. You're going to have the remnant in your cabinet soon as well.

"Your fangs grazing my cock, God — such an anatomy hazard."

Minju keeps her pace consistent, using your throat to drive herself towards the precipice. Her cock throbs and pulses inside you violently, so eager to feed you her sperm. She places a hand on your throat along with yours, finding the heat scorching under your skin.

You feel a spurt of liquid inside you, finally, accompanied by a guttural groan from Minju. She gushes cum down your esophagus carelessly, and you don't even get to taste her on your tongue. It's a forceful feeding — one you're too happy to decline. Her whole body thrashes against your lips, and she twitches countless times before coming down from the unbelievable high.

Minju breathes exhaustedly as her cock softens in your mouth, turning back into a flaccid state. You lap the remnants of her semen leaking from her slit. It's a small sample, but you give feedback regardless.

"Yum."

Minju chuckles above you while pulling herself out of your orifice. She kneels in front of you, and she's just that pretty even when you're upside down.

"It's just pineapples," Minju whispers.

"I don't think it's a seasonal fruit."

"You want more? Are we doing this again?" and Minju laughs, fondling your cheek tenderly.

"I know I'm drunk as fuck," and a feeble cough, "but definitely, maybe."

—

"I can't go home when the sun's up," you whine, shifting in Minju's bed under the blanket. "I'll disintegrate."

"You wanna be dicked down again, I see," and Minju giggles under her blanket as well. Her ears are twitching slightly. "I don't have blood in the fridge for you, though. Didn't expect to fuck a vampire at my place."

"I could just order it," you breeze. "And thanks for letting me stay and, well, that."

Minju smiles warmly. "You're welcome. I still wonder one thing, though."

"What is it?"

"If I fuck you in front of a mirror — any holes — and I cum inside you, will it look like my cum is floating in the air?"

[satzumosupremacy]

Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.16

Beautifully Ephemeral

M reader x Hyewon

Tags: Smut

8.5k words

“Um, sorry, I saved it somewhere,” Hyewon mumbles.

The car idles as you glance up at the rearview mirror, watching her scroll through her phone. You haven’t moved since dropping the manager off at the agency. At least everything is going according to plan. That’s all that matters.

“Ah, found it,” she says, leaning forward from the back seat to show you the address on her phone.

“Oh, it’s that café that’s been trending online,” you say, typing the name into your phone.

“Have you been there?” Hyewon asks, leaning back into her seat.

“No. I’ve just been seeing it around lately. Heard it’s nice with a rooftop view.”

“Ah, I see,” she murmurs as you shift the car into drive and pull onto the road, the low hum of the engine settling into the silence. You catch a glance in the rearview mirror, brief and accidental, your eyes meeting before either of you can help it, and just as quickly, both of you look away. The silence lingers a second too long, and as if to break it, she speaks again. “Is this a company SUV?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Does this car have some kind of reinforcement, like bulletproof panels and all that? Or is that just in movies?”

You let out a small chuckle and turn the corner. “We do have some. This one just has reinforced windows and darker tint.”

“Oh, I see.” Hyewon nods, glancing around the car before looking back out the window as buildings pass. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve dealt with as a bodyguard?”

You take a moment to think while she waits. “Probably the number of fights but they’re more like scuffles. They end quickly. After a while, it all starts to feel kind of meaningless.”

She laughs softly, her gaze drifting to your arm resting on the steering wheel. “You’ve got some humor in you.”

It wasn’t really a joke, but you let it pass, a quiet breath of a laugh leaving you anyway. “Thank you.”

“Also… isn’t the weather nice today?”

“It is,” you say, easing off the gas as the light turns red in front of you.

——

At the shop, it isn’t crowded, just a handful of college students hunched over laptops. As you approach the kiosk with Hyewon, she starts ordering quietly while your attention drifts, scanning the room, each table, each face, anyone who might look twice, anyone who might recognize her.

“Is that Hyewon?” the worker at the register whispers to a coworker. You catch it anyway. A few people in line glance over.

“People are starting to notice you, Hyewon,” you whisper to her. “Are you in the mood to greet fans?”

“Of course,” she smiles, swiping through the screen without hesitation.

“May you remind me of the safe words I gave you?” you ask. “Standard procedure.”

“Where’s my manager?” she replies, glancing at you with a teasing smile.

“Okay, just checking.”

For now, at least, people keep their distance, the way they usually do on a slow Tuesday.

“Do you want anything?” she asks, turning to you.

You shake your head. “No, thank you.”

“Are you sure? You should get something. The desserts here look really good.”

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

She glances at you, a little more insistent this time. “I know you’re working, but at least get something. An Americano or whatever. It’s my treat. I don't want to feel bad."

You hesitate for a second, then give in. “Alright. A small Americano. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She taps it in and pulls out her card.

Before she can pay, you step in a little closer, just enough to block the view of any clear angle from the cameras around. It’s instinct, automatic. She notices how you did it quietly without a word.

“What a bodyguard,” Hyewon thinks, a small, private smile lingering as the order goes through. The receipt prints with a soft whir, and she tears it off, glancing at the number. “Twenty-six.”

She steps aside to wait, and you fall in just behind her, close enough without crowding. The room settles again, low voices, the clink of cups. Then someone stands. You notice it immediately. A girl approaches, stopping a few feet away, careful, almost hesitant. You take her in without staring, quick and automatic. College student, maybe. Glasses, beige jacket, nothing out of place. No tension in her shoulders, no rush in her steps.

“Hi… can I take a quick picture with you, Hyewon?” she asks.

Hyewon glances back at you, just for a second after you give her a small nod.

The girl smiles and steps closer, the moment passing easily, a phone lifted, a quick picture taken, nothing more.

“Number twenty-six!”

Hyewon thanks the fan before stepping away, heading to the counter to pick up the tray.

“Want me to carry that?” you ask.

“No, it’s okay. I’ve got it.”

“Alright.”

You follow a step behind as she heads up the stairs, your attention split between her and the space ahead. The rooftop door swings open, and the air changes immediately, cooler, easier to breathe. You take a quick look around before she reaches a corner table and sets the tray down. You take the seat beside her without thinking and turn towards the door.

She pauses, then glances at you. “I think you’re supposed to face the other way.”

“I don’t sit with my back to a door.”

“Oh.” It comes out quieter this time from Hyewon. She doesn’t say anything else, just settles into her seat, a small pause lingering as she takes that in. From the outside, you know how it looks. A little out of place or funny, maybe even rigid. On any other day, it might feel unnecessary. But not today.

“Here’s your Americano, Oppa,” she murmurs, hoping what she just called you flew over your head. Which it did, surprisingly, out of everything.

“Thank you,” you say and reach for your coffee from her hand.

“I’m guessing you’re counting how many people are up here.”

“Yeah. Ten people. This place will likely get busy in two hours since people will be on break.”

You’re not even looking at her, your attention is set somewhere past her shoulder, on the door, the edges of the rooftop, anywhere but her. Still, you can feel it, the way her gaze lingers a second too long, studying you without trying to hide it.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Turning to her, your eyes meet each other, “No.”

“Liar,” she giggles, covering her mouth, though the curiosity doesn’t leave her expression. She tears off a small piece of her strawberry muffin, bringing it to her lips as she watches you.

You take a sip of your coffee, letting the moment stretch just enough. “What makes you think I’m lying?”

She hums softly, chewing, taking her time before answering. “Hmm… maybe I’ll take that back.” She swallows, brushing a crumb from her thumb. A small smile forms as she tilts her head slightly. “Then what kind of woman are you into?”

You glance away for a brief second, like the answer isn’t something you keep ready. “Someone who knows how to be kind,” you say. “Not nice all the time. Just kind.” You pause, almost reconsidering whether to add more, then do anyway. “But it usually falls apart if she has a pretty smile.”

“Ah,” Hyewon leans in just a touch, her smile widening, not shy anymore but teasingly. “So you’re a sucker for a pretty smile?” She holds it there a second longer than necessary, like she knows exactly what she’s doing, like she wants you to notice.

You hesitate, enough to give it away without hiding any thoughts. “Yeah. You could say that.”

She lets the smile linger for a second, then looks down at her muffin like nothing happened. The moment shifts, quiet but not the same anymore.

“That’s cute,” Hyewon says. You glance at her as she takes another bite, brushing a few crumbs from her lips without thinking. She looks out over the rooftop for a moment, and you let your gaze linger a second too long before looking away, lifting your coffee to your lips. “Do you… usually talk this much?” she asks, turning back to you. “We didn’t talk much earlier. When I was shopping.”

“Your manager isn’t here to keep you company.”

“Then… am I talking too much?” she asks with a shy laugh.

You shake your head. “No. You’re fine.”

“Oppa,” she murmurs.

You catch it a second later, but don’t react much and only think that she’s just getting comfortable with you, “Hmm?”

“Want a taste?” she asks, holding out her muffin.

“No, but thanks for offering.”

“Are you sure? I have an extra fork.”

You shake your head again, lifting your coffee. “I’m sure.”

“Hmm, okay,” Hyewon says, drawing the muffin back towards herself. She takes another bite, slow, like she isn’t in any rush, and when your eyes meet again, she holds it for a second longer than before, a faint smile still there before she finally looks away.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. Just timing. Two people looking in the same direction at the same second. But your body doesn’t buy it. It lingers a second too long, reads into it more than it should. Hyewon doesn’t look away. Her smile stays instead of passing through. You try to shrink it into coincidence, something easy to ignore, but you’re already paying closer attention than you should be. You’ve noticed the signs before, and you’re trying not to let this turn into something you’ll actually act on.

Hyewon’s not smiling at you just because. She’s flirting with you.

——

After the coffee shop, you walk with Hyewon into her apartment building. She presses the elevator button and glances down at the shopping bags in your hands. “I’m surprised you’re not asking why I spent so much today,” she says.

“I don’t bother to,” you reply, a faint smile touching your lips.

The elevator opens and you gesture her in first. She steps inside, close enough for you to catch the faint trace of her perfume as you follow in. She presses her floor and the doors close. The air shifts, quieter and closer. Hyewon looks down and adjusts her grip on her phone while you keep your gaze forward, both of your reflections blurred together in the polished metal doors.

There’s something sitting beneath it. Something neither of you has said out loud. You don’t follow it too far. Still, the thought lingers longer than it should. You notice it anyway. The way she doesn’t quite relax. The way the silence doesn’t feel empty. Her eyes have been saying enough all day.

“Oppa,” she murmurs, softer this time as she looks up at you.

“Yes?”

She hesitates, and you can see it before she speaks. “I know your job is done once I’m inside, but… would you like to stay for a bit?”

You’re thinking as she glances at you, then looks forward before the elevator comes to a complete stop and opens. There’s hesitation in your thoughts, because for whatever reason, everything seemed to align too well.

“I can stay for a bit,” you say with a quiet chuckle.

She steps out when the doors open, and you follow behind. Your thoughts don’t settle between her and yourself, questions you don’t quite let form. Your gaze drifts at her for a second, lower than it should, before you catch it and pull it back up on how her hair sways with each step. Hyewon stops at her door and keys in the code. The lock clicks. She glances at you over her shoulder, a small smile waiting there as the door opens. “Come in.”

You pause for half a second, then step forward.

Neither of you says anything more. You don’t need to.

“Uh, sorry, it’s a bit messy,” she says shyly as you step inside.

“It doesn’t look messy at all,” you assure her while slipping your shoes off beside hers.

“Come sit,” Hyewon murmurs before quickly moving towards the living room, straightening a few things that honestly didn’t need fixing. You follow after her and sit at the end of the couch, quietly taking in the unfamiliar space around you.

“Seems cozy,” you comment.

She turns around at that and suddenly remembers the shopping bags still hanging from your hands. A shy laugh slips out as she brushes her hair back and reaches for them. “Thank you. I’ll put these in my room. Be right back.”

The apartment grows strangely quiet once she disappears into her bedroom. You hear the soft rustle of bags being set down before she comes back out a moment later and sits near you, not too close, but not far either. Your eyes meet for a brief second before both of you look away like it never happened.

“Can I hang my coat somewhere?” you ask, standing as you slip off your trench coat.

“Oh, here.” She gets up quickly and takes it from your hands. “I’ll hang it for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says softly. Her fingers brush against yours for only a moment before she walks to the closet by the front door. You glance over without meaning to, watching her hang the coat up before she casually pulls her sweater over her head, leaving only the light blue shirt underneath.

The room feels quieter after that. Not uncomfortable. Just aware of what’s happening. Your intuition is already pulling at you. Every glance lingers just enough to say what neither of you wants to say first.

When Hyewon walks back over, she brushes her hair behind her ear again before sitting beside you, closer this time. Not enough to touch, but close enough that you notice the warmth of her beside you. You catch the nervous habit immediately and decide to ease some of it before she disappears too far into her own thoughts.

“Light blue looks good on you, Hyewon,” you say with a gentle smile.

“Oh.” A soft laugh slips out of her as she looks down for a second. “Thanks.” Her eyes drift over you before she adds, quieter this time, “Your shoulders look broader without the coat.”

You let out a faint chuckle, “Is it that noticeable?”

The second the words leave her mouth, she looks like she wants to take them back. Or maybe not take them back, just hide the fact she noticed in the first place. “Uh… a little.”

Hyewon’s blushing, and you took notice. The way she avoids your eyes for a second too long. And somehow that feels more intimate than if she had looked at you directly.

“May I see your hands?” you ask softly, turning towards her.

You already know you’re crossing into something dangerous. Maybe she knows it too, but it hangs there between you anyway, heavy in the silence. Hyewon hesitates for only a second before lifting her legs onto the couch and turning fully towards you. She offers her hands shyly, slowly, like she’s giving away more than she should. You take them gently, your fingers wrapping around her wrists as your thumbs brush against her skin. Her pulse gives itself away almost immediately beneath your touch. Slowly, you guide her hands upward until they rest against your shoulders. Her fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, hesitant at first, then holding on a little tighter.

She gulps in the quiet space between you. Her cheeks flush a deep rosy red that spreads all the way to her ears no matter how hard she tries to hide it. Hyewon tries to keep herself composed, but she can already feel the butterflies in her stomach fluttering out of control.

Then your eyes meet. Your gaze drops briefly to her pretty lips before returning to her eyes, holding it there. The air begins to feel extremely intimate. You want to take off her clothes, make her vulnerable to the point where you’ll assure her that being in your arms is the only place to be in the moment.

Her pulse is rising, and neither can she take her eyes off of you or even say a word. So you slowly lean in and close your eyes. Your hand makes its way to her thighs, and before a kiss happens, Hyewon closes her eyes too, lips parting softly as she waits for you to close the distance, but you suddenly stop. Just enough for her to feel it. Just enough for the warmth of your breath to linger against her skin without giving her the kiss she was expecting.

“May I?” you whisper softly, stopping just short of her lips as the faint scent of her perfume lingers

There’s no verbal answer. Hyewon answers by leaning in slowly instead with her breath trembling softly against your lips before they finally meet. The kiss is careful at first, almost hesitant, like neither of you fully wants to acknowledge how long this moment has been building. But restraint slips quickly. Her hand tightens against your shoulder as she kisses you deeper, and you feel yourself give in just as easily. The warmth of her pulls you closer. Every quiet breath, every shaky little pause between kisses draws you further into her, until thinking about where the line was supposed to be no longer feels possible.

You gently guide Hyewon back against the couch without breaking the kiss. She follows you willingly, fingers tightening against your shirt before one hand slips higher to cradle the side of your face like she needs something steady to hold onto. Her legs parted on instinct as she feels you getting hard between her. A soft moan leaves her when you finally pull away just enough to let her breathe. Her chest rises unevenly as she looks up at you quietly.

“You’re good at kissing,” you compliment her and take a quick gulp.

“Did you forget? I’m an actress,” Hyewon shyly chuckles and rubs her thumb on your cheeks.

Maybe you did, or maybe, you’re not thinking straight anymore by how quick the kiss turned into something you weren’t ready for.

You want more of her, greedily.

“I think you’re better than me,” she adds on, biting her lower lip. Hyewon reaches in between the two of you and unbuttons your plain, whir flannel from the top, hesitantly stopping halfway to your exposed chest. You can see the hesitation in her eyes as she looks up at you. “Do you have um… a condom?”

“I don’t,” you reply.

Hyewon hesitates, because again, this whole thing was an unplanned mess.

"Do you want to come over to my place?" you ask, giving her the option. In her mind, she doesn't want to, not because she's unsure, but because you've already gotten this far. And you won't give her a second to ask you to run to the nearest pharmacy. "Or I can go grab one quick, if that's okay."

Hyewon smiles at how thoughtful you are. She looks down and starts unbuttoning your flannel, then meets your eyes again. Those damn eyes of hers pull you in deeper the longer you stare. She's not even naked yet, and her gaze alone is enough to drag you into an infinite void. Her fingers slip beneath your collar and slowly pull the shirt off your shoulders. "I'll give you a chance."

“What chance?” you ask.

She presses her lips before speaking. “We can do it without one.”

“Are you sure?”

She lets out a soft chuckle, her palms slowly exploring your chest. Her lips press together as you watch her nervously swallow. "Yeah… I'm okay with it."

You get a good look at her eyes from above, close enough to catch every small shift in them, the sincerity, the dare, the way she's not even trying to hide either.

“Just promise to not cum in me,” she whispers. Her hands are still on your chest, legs almost locking you in. She’s been staring at you like it’s love at first sight. But love isn’t there, it’s lust that brought you two to this couch, in her own home.

Hyewon’s hands slip back under your flannel and press more insistently against your skin. Feeling her growing impatient, you sit up from her, quickly take the shirt off, and drape it over the couch. Before you can settle again, her hands are already reaching for your pants.

“I won’t. Are you taking any prescriptions?” you ask, and she cautiously gets a feel of your length through the fabric of your pants.

She nods, “Yeah.”

That’s all you needed to know. You respect her boundaries.

So you chuckle to just clear the littlest, tense air in the room, “Why are you so shy to unzip my pants?”

She chuckles along, “I don’t know.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Yeah, a little,” she admits.

Without a word, you grab her wrist and guide her hand to your zipper. Hyewon understands the assignment as she slowly unzips your pants. You stare at her, admiring such a beauty, yet so hungry from the look in her eyes. Once she lets go, you get off the couch and offer your hand. Hyewon takes it and stands up beside you.

“May I?” you ask, reaching her waist to take off her shirt.

“Yeah,” she whispers shyly.

So you slowly pull her shirt up, your fingers brushing against her warm skin as her torso is gradually revealed. The soft white bra comes into view, hugging her gently before you fully take the shirt off. Her breathing deepens as you toss it on top of yours on the couch.

You take the lead without waiting any longer, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of her pants as Hyewon curiously watches, slowly sliding them down her thighs and letting them drop to the floor. She can feel the subtle romance in the moment, the way your hands move with such gentle care, the focused attention you give her.

But neither of you are mistaken. This isn't love, even if the feelings are close enough to be misunderstood. Looking at each other, you guide her hands to your pants. She pulls them down and lets them drop to the floor. Now only your boxers and her bra and panties remain. You're setting the tone, slow and steady, and Hyewon is falling into it too.

"Hyewon," you whisper, gently taking her hand as you sit back on the couch. You pull her closer, clearly wanting her on top. She spreads her legs and slowly lowering herself onto your lap.

"He's so sweet," she thinks to herself, watching you reach for her nape and pull her face closer to yours, meeting each other's lips with eyes closed. You love how soft her lips are, how you can feel her back arching and her chest pressing into yours. You hold the side of her face, wanting more, taking in the sounds of your lips against each other's. There's desperation in every kiss.

You deepen the kiss, your tongue gently parting her lips as she lets out a soft, needy whimper. Hyewon's breath hitches every time your thumb brushes her cheekbone. She presses even closer, hips slowly grinding against you, shamelessly rubbing her panties along the thick, hard length of your cock straining through your boxers.

Pulling back just enough to breathe, you rest your forehead against hers, eyes still closed, savoring the shared moment. Her lashes flutter open slowly, revealing her gleaming eyes full of emotion and desire. A shy smile tugs at her lips. She can't say anything, only letting out a soft chuckle and grabbing hold of your shoulders. You move your hands lower, onto her back, her hips, the strap of her bra, anywhere to give her body some attention.

You brush your cheek against hers and trail your lips slowly down the elegant line of her neck. Hyewon turns her head to the side with a soft sigh, giving you full access as her pulse flutters wildly beneath your mouth. Your kisses are light at first, then firmer, sucking gently on the sensitive spot just below her ear. She lets out a quiet, breathy moan as one of her hands slides up to your nape and holds you there.

While your lips keep her distracted with slow, teasing kisses on her neck, your hands slide up her back until your fingers find the hook of her bra and gently undo it, letting it hang loose on her shoulders.

Hyewon pulls back from the kiss with a shy smile and slowly slides off your lap, standing between your legs as she takes off her bra, giving you a perfect view of her tits. She bends her knees, hooks her fingers into your boxers, and tugs them steadily down your hips and thighs until your hard cock springs free. After quickly tossing your boxers to the side, she climbs right back onto your lap. Reaching between your bodies, Hyewon gently wraps her hand around your cock, staring down with a smile as it throbs instantly.

You just can't take in how gorgeous she is with that smile, almost damn near naked in front of you.

She pushes her panties aside with one hand and leans forward while guiding the tip of your cock to her slick entrance with the other. After all the teasing, she finally sinks down onto you. A soft tremor passes between the two of you as your cock stretching her folds.

She bites her lower lip, briefly pausing to take a breath. Your cock throbs halfway inside her walls as a soft moan escapes Hyewon's lips. The two of you share a gaze and she grabs hold of your shoulders for balance, slowly sinking down further with a gasp until your cock fully disappears inside her. It's overwhelming her as she stays still, trying to adjust to how big you are and how her pussy is being stretched. With some effort, she slowly begins to grind on you.

"So big," she shyly murmurs, curling into you, letting out soft cries and whimpers, anything that easily slips from her lips.

"I'll be gentle," you whisper as your fingers slip beneath her panties and get a feel of the tenderness of her ass.

This is Hyewon fighting against herself. This was just the start as she gets used to your cock inside her. But you can't take in how tightly her pussy grips you, how slick she was after all that kissing, so dangerous that you'd love to cum inside her if she dared you to.

As she begins grinding harder, you hear the clear and beautiful moans she makes. You lay back against the couch and take deep breaths. She gently places her hands on your chest and continues to grind slowly, back and forth, in circles. You try to catch your breath and tilt your head back, although it feels endlessly impossible when she's this tight.

"Hyewon," you softly moan, blindly grabbing her hands on your chest, holding her there with no intention of letting go.

She can feel your heart beating beneath her palm, resting flat against your chest. It's the most raw and genuine thing as she gazes down at you. Her own chest rises and falls in shallow rhythms, syncing with yours. The window blinds in her living room are down, tilted just enough for thin lines of light to slip through.

She feels strangely exposed and vulnerable in her own home, like anyone outside could see what's going on behind those blinds. But the feeling of you inside her, this rush of warmth and adrenaline, makes Hyewon melt into you, her body trembling softly as she savors the deep, intimate fullness only you can give her.

Everything feels surreal. The way your hands gripped her wrist, desperate, like you never wanted to leave her. She pauses to catch a breath and gently guides your hands up to her tits.

“It feels good just sitting on it,” she embarrassingly confesses and feels you gently squeezing her tits.

“Yeah?” you gasp. “Show me your bedroom.”

“It’s even more messy there,” she giggles, which you can definitely feel it from being inside her.

“We can make it messier,” you tease Hyewon, gently flicking her hard nipples.

“What?” she utters, holding in a laugh and grinds on your cock to keep it as hard as possible inside her.

“Should we try on your dining table?” you murmur, teasing her again, but it’s more like you’re daring Hyewon.

She brushes her hair before deciding to get off of your cock and take off her panties, then giving you her hand. “Let’s go.”

Okay, you didn’t expect that, but you’ll take her hand as she walks you to the dining table.

Before making any decisions near the table, she leans forward and kisses you again, pulling you into a deep, hungry makeout as she reaches down to stroke your cock. You can't say a damn thing, only match her hungry lips, until Hyewon's other hand reaches back for the table and she leans against it, gently pulling you with her. She tiptoes and sits on the edge, never breaking the kiss for even a second, until she glances down and guides the tip of your cock back inside her.

She grips your shoulders tightly as you slowly push into her again. You hold her leg while your other hand braces behind her on the tabletop. Hot breath fans across your neck, a moan spilling from both of you as she takes you deeper than she ever did on the couch. Her eyes lift to meet yours, half-lidded and hazy with pleasure, struggling to stay open. Quiet whimpers escape her with every thrust. The dark strands of her hair cling to her cheeks.

Her walls flutter and squeeze around your cock with every slow, deep thrust. She’s neither telling you to slow down or be rougher, simply lost in the steady rhythm as her body rocks gently against yours. Soft, needy sounds slip from her parted lips with each thrust, her half-lidded eyes staying locked on yours in a hazy, intimate gaze.

“Oppa,” she moans out desperately as her toes curl. You slow the pace and let the two of you catch a breath, eyes still locked in the quiet moment. You reach up and gently brush the strand of hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear.

This subtle gesture changes something in her, more than you realize.

Her eyes soften with a new kind of warmth, the raw desire quietly deepening into something more tender. A slow, involuntary flutter runs through her walls, her body reacting before her mind can catch up. Hyewon gulps and you feel her hands find your face, pulling you in as your lips meet again.

You continue thrusting gently back and forth inside her. She pours everything into you: her heart in this fleeting moment, her body, even her sanity, all completely yours. Each roll of her hips meets yours with quiet desperation, tongue sliding against yours while her slick walls cling tightly around your cock as if Hyewon’s suggestion of you pulling out wasn’t the plan anymore.

You guide her back until she's lying flat on the table, your body hovering over hers, close enough to feel every breath she takes as your hips thrust forward, deeper and harder, one thrust after another, each one pulling a sound out of her. A desperate groan spills out, drawn out and helpless for a few seconds she can barely hang onto, until Hyewon grabs hold of your shoulders and gives you a gentle push. In an instant, you slow down, hearing how heavy her breaths have become.

Maybe it was a little too much for her.

You lean back and give her a moment, lifting her legs together to kiss her ankles and calves while slowly driving into her. She cups her own tits, whimpering with her eyes closed.

Hyewon can't bear how good your lips feel brushing against her legs, each kiss sending her heart fluttering. She can feel the depth of your passion in every touch, aching for you to fill her, to let go inside her. Yet she's torn between desire and restraint.

Her whole body suddenly stiffens, every muscle locking up as you keep pushing through. You realize it only now— she's cumming. Her slick walls clamp down around your cock in strong, pulsing waves. A raw, broken cry tears from her throat, half-sob, half-scream, her voice shaking apart. Breathless whimpers spill out uncontrollably as Hyewon arches and spreads her arms back to grip the edges of the table while her body continues to squirm around.

Your cock throbs as you hold yourself together, slowing to a few last deep strokes until she stops cumming and lets out an exhausted breath. You pull out just in time, your cock throbbing in your hand as her legs slowly part, ready to cum all over her.

She looks at you, then down at your cock while her breaths catch. Hyewon's trying to make a decision she hates to go back on. It's tormenting her the more she wants to stick to what was said.

A wave of shyness washes over her, seeing how shamelessly her legs are spread for you. She only met you today, yet it felt like you're someone she's known for years, someone she could trust. The guilt begins to linger, especially when Hyewon felt like she was the reason the two of you ended up here like this. You see her pondering, but you have no clue what's really going on in her head.

“Should I just let him?” she thinks to herself, looking right at you leaning over her, lowering yourself to give her tits a gentle kiss. Her breaths are still freshly heavy after cumming. You knew there was something Hyewon’s embarrassed about. She feels your warm kisses on her body while your cock drags against her crotch.

“Let’s go to your bed,” you murmur, gently grabbing her hand and getting up together. You smile at her after seeing how self conscious she was after cumming. “Take me to your room.”

She gives in completely, her lips curving into a soft, unconscious smile as yours proves impossible to resist. The difference in your hand sizes matters more than it needs to as she doesn't let go. Hyewon leads you toward her room, but just before you reach the door, you catch her wrist and gently press her back against the wall.

Your body follows, pinning Hyewon there with hunger. You kiss her deeply, slowly, savoring the warmth of her mouth as your hands glide over her curves, tracing her waist, and thumb brushing her hips. A quiet sigh escapes Hyewon. She melts into you, sliding her arms around your shoulders, fingers digging into your hair as she pulls you closer.

Hyewon hates herself for this. For letting you flutter her heart so effortlessly. For melting under the raw, undivided passion you pour into her. Most of all, she hates how convincingly you fuck her—like you genuinely want her, like she’s the only thing that matters. She knows this isn’t love. Deep down, she understands that, but you deserve far more than what she asked of you.

The wet tip of your cock brushes against her stomach while you keep her from talking. She’s not impatient or complaining. If anything, a quiet thrill runs through her.

You slide your hands down to the back of her thighs and gently lift her. Hyewon wraps her legs around your waist with a soft, surprised gasp, her arms tightening around your neck as you carry her into the bedroom. You lower Hyewon onto the bed with care and your body follows hers down until she’s cradled beneath you with her hair spilling across the sheets. Your lips trail along her jaw and neck as you settle between her thighs, savoring the warmth of her skin and the way her fingers tremble slightly while threading through your hair in silent surrender.

Hyewon breaks into a light chuckle as she feels your lips trailing down to her tits that left tingling feelings. “You’re so romantic.”

You smile, taking in the compliment. “Can you turn around and lay flat?” you ask, getting up from her to give Hyewon some space as she does what you asked.

A flush of embarrassment warms her cheeks as she presses her lips together, watching you grab one of the pillows and gently slide it beneath her hips. The soft lift arches her back beautifully, raising her ass towards you.

Gently kneeling over Hyewon, you slowly brush your cock between her folds, sending a jolt throughout her body as you insert your cock gently back inside. She feels half your weight pinning down her lower body and lets out a soft moan.

Greed is getting to her. The mental image of you cumming deep inside her makes Hyewon feel as it should be right to. Your cock is throbbing like you’re begging her to just give you the word. From above, you hear her soft moans, seeing her small hands gripping the bedsheets from the corner of your eyes, mouth parting and clenching each time you thrust deeper. Her eyes keep fluttering open and closing shut like taking your length is the only thing she wants.

“Cum in me. Just say it,” she thinks to herself.

The greed is winning as you gasp, stopping deep inside of her, trying to hold back from cumming. You gently lower yourself and kiss her shoulders. Hyewon can feel how hard your cock is throbbing in her, yet you’re trying to go on for another few minutes.

“Cum,” she forcibly whispers. “Just cum in me,” she lets out an exhausted breath.

You heard her, but you don't answer until after kissing the side of her neck, exhaustedly pulling back just to take in the sight of her gorgeous body laid out on the bed, panting. "You sure?"

“I’ll let you,” she utters, feeling how deep you are inside of her as you adjust your knees from sinking further into her bed.

You savor Hyewon for a few more seconds, your cock lodged deep inside her. You love how she feels, warm and slick, yet unforgivingly tight, as you gently rest a hand on her ass. Before you cum, you want to use every last second to touch her, to yearn for her body one final time before cumming. She's smiling, you catch it from the corner of your eye. You know she wants this kind of attention, to be touched, to have someone who wanted the same as her. Hyewon closes her eyes as the comfort of her bed and the weight of you on top cradle her.

You know she's exhausted after all of this, the couch, the dining table, the bedroom, all those kisses. Hyewon doesn't move an inch, savoring the way you fucked her into exhaustion.

Slowly pushing yourself to continue, you gently pull out until only the tip remains, then drive back in as your cock throbs and Hyewon lets out a louder whimper. Then once more, throbbing harder, pulling back out before sinking in slower as a quiet grunt escapes you. She knows by now how long you've been holding back.

"Hyewon," you softly murmur, panting harder as your cock begins to throb violently inside her. You let out a desperate grunt, planting both hands firmly on the bed beside her head. Your legs stiffen, hips pressing hard against her ass as you hold yourself there, unable to pull back even an inch. Your forehead drops to the back of Hyewon’s neck, lips brushing her skin as her name barely makes it out of your mouth a second time while you’re cumming in her. It feels like you're impregnating her with everything you have, and right now that doesn't feel wrong at all.

She shuts her eyes tight from how deep and hard you're cumming inside her. Hyewon lets out a quiet gasp that quickly dissolves into long, erotic moans. Your breath hitches sharply in your throat, turning into a deep groan. Hyewon loves that, the raw, broken, desperate tone of your voice when you're cumming hard inside her. It makes her clench tighter around you as if she's trying to pull even more out of you.

Your hips twitch and jerk uncontrollably, grinding forward instinctively to push your load even deeper. Another low, strained groan escapes you, the kind she craves that’s rough and helpless, completely lost in the pleasure of emptying yourself into her. Until the final pulse fades, you’re left utterly drained and chest heaving above her back. You stay inside Hyewon for a long moment and brush her hair aside, going in for a kiss along her shoulder and the nape of her neck.

“You okay?” you whisper hoarsely, voice still thick with pleasure and affection. She hums weakly in response, eyes still closed, a small, satisfied smile on her lips. You carefully lift your weight off her, just enough for your cock to slip out and get the last few drops of left over cum onto her ass. You stare at her again, from her pretty face, to her shoulders, down her gorgeous back, and to her ass that your cock is in between. “Stay still,” you force yourself to say and get off the bed.

Hyewon sees you quickly leaving the room to get something to wipe off the cum left over on her ass. In those quiet moments alone, her heart flutters even more. A warm feeling spreads through her chest as she lays still, face half-buried in the pillow, body still tingling. The way you immediately went to take care of her without hesitation, without needing to be asked makes her feel cherished. She bites her lip softly, a small, content smile forming as she listens for your returning footsteps.

Returning to the room with a warm, damp paper towel in hand, you climb back onto the bed carefully so you don’t startle her. Hyewon stays lying on her stomach and breathes softly into the pillow.

Gently, almost reverently, you press the warm towel against her skin. You start by wiping the streaks of cum that’s on her ass, cleaning her smooth cheeks with slow strokes. Then you move lower, softly parting her thighs just enough to wipe the cum dripping from her pussy. You take your time by being extra gentle as you clean every trace of your cum from her. Hyewon’s relaxed under your touch, melting deeper into the mattress, clearly enjoying the soft, caring way you’re taking care of her.

“Thank you,” she quietly murmurs to you, then saying it again in her head. Once you finish wiping her off, you quickly clean yourself and throw it in the trash bin beside her dresser before returning into the bed. You turn Hyewon over and get in between her legs, kissing her stomach, up to her tits, and until your lips find hers. It was the cherry on top that she couldn’t ask for.

You’re both overly satisfied. It’s just that you both can’t afford to stop kissing, and maybe, that’s where mistakes could happen if she stays longer in your arms. She grabs onto both your biceps with gentle pressure to feel your flexed muscles holding yourself up.

Hyewon knew your name since the beginning of today, but never has she said it until now as she quietly whispers your name once you trail your lips down to her neck. You fail to even continue kissing and only look at her. Maybe she did moan your name at some point but you didn’t catch it at all.

“Hmm?” you murmur.

“Nothing,” she shyly chuckles, staring at you, getting all shy and presses her lips.

You slowly get up and off the bed as you give out your hand to pull her up without a word. She instantly takes your hand and gets off the bed to stand in front of you.

“Is he going to kiss me again? Can he go a little longer?” she thinks to herself, meeting each other’s eyes again. Even if Hyewon’s exhausted, if that’s what you were going for, she’ll meet your lips with equal need. If you weren’t, then she’ll take it as is.

“I’ll go bring our clothes,” you tell her.

She smiles, “Okay.”

While you walk out the room, she opens her closet to put on a comfortable set of clothes. The sun is still up. It’s almost two in the afternoon as you take out your phone from your pants to check the time and see two missed calls before putting your clothes back on. You felt like time went unexpectedly slow today.

Walking back to Hyewon with her clothes in your hand, the timing was spot on as you both almost bump into each other at the door.

“Sorry,” you both say and chuckle.

“Bathroom?” you quickly ask.

“Yeah,” she shyly whispers.

You turn to the side to give her space to leave the bedroom. “Where can I put your clothes?”

“Oh, just set it on the bed. I’ll take care of it,” she replies as you gesture her to walk out first.

Hyewon steps out as you walk back in her room and she turns around, “Um, do you have to go somewhere after this?”

“I do, but I’m not in a rush.”

“I don’t want you to be late,” she says.

You collect your thoughts, not wanting to say the obvious of staying beside her for a little longer after having sex. You don’t want Hyewon to feel any kind of guilt on herself.

So you chuckle, wanting to tease her as you clear your throat. “You want me to stay, don’t you?”

“Yeah—no, no, I- I just don’t want to waste your time,” she embarrassingly chuckles after the slight panic.

The hard truth is, you should leave and not stay longer than you should. You know this.

Because she did make your heart flutter the moment you two look at each other again. Her eyes meet yours with such soft vulnerability and warmth that it hits you straight in the chest. They’re glossy, sparkling with leftover pleasure and something deeper, maybe even a little shyness now after having sex. A faint, tired smile curves her lips as she gazes up at you once more.

“It’s um… okay if you need to be somewhere,” she breaks the silence.

You feel like shit, only because those miss calls are somewhat an important matter, but you still want to at least stay for a little longer and keep her company.

So you lean against the door frame and try to take the unsaid hints she’s trying to tell you. “Be honest with me,” you softly smile.

“It’s okay if you have to leave. I’m serious,” she chuckles.

You’re overthinking this, and it was right to do so. She’s letting you go, understanding that you have to be somewhere. But she’d love for you stay for a little longer if there was time.

“Go use the bathroom, I’ll be in the living room waiting,” you say.

She shyly chuckles, holding herself back from a smile that would be definitely embarrassing. “Okay.”

As you walk back to the living room and she’s in the bathroom, you sit on the couch, remembering how it all started here with a kiss, then she undid your shirt and both of you ended up at the dining table the next, until getting into her bed. You can still vividly feel her warm touch and hear the way she moans quietly in your arms. The look in her eyes were desperate enough that you wanted to be the man she decides to not hide anything to.

The moment Hyewon walks out, she can tell there’s something more intimate in the air as you look right at her walking to you. It’s when she understood that you two could have at least be someone to each other, but she thinks she’ll only do you harm.

“May—can I uh, walk you out my door?” she says, smiling, almost in a sad way.

You stand up and follow her as she walks you to the door and grabs your coat for you.

Life gives you two a few more seconds to linger as you both settle at the door before she opens. Hyewon can only look at you putting on your coat, remembering how warm and gentle you were, the kisses that grew her even more hungry. It almost feels heartbreaking, like a fragile, invisible thread was stretching out until it breaks in half once you step out.

Hyewon opens the door, hesitantly until it opens wide. “Thanks for um… spending time with me.”

You can tell from the look on her face. There’s no regret or anything against you, but the obvious look of, “I wish you could stay a little longer.”

So you give her a smile, “Thanks for having me.”

After you step out her home, the door closes and she stands there for a moment, her hand still resting on the handle. She looks back at the living room, eyes quietly scanning, hoping for something, anything left behind that could be an excuse to open the door again.

There’s nothing left.

The house turns quiet again as Hyewon slowly walks over to the kitchen to fill a cup with water.

"I should have asked if he was hungry," she murmurs to herself, staring at nothing in particular. "Did he even eat before seeing me?"

The thought catches her off guard with how much she means it. She sets the cup down and moves before she can talk herself out of it by back to the door and pulling it open just enough to lean out into the hallway.

You weren’t there.

Down the hall, the elevator doors slide shut. On the other side of them, you lean your back against the wall, hands in your coat pockets, eyes on the floor after pressing lobby. The hum of the elevator fills the silence around you.

Hyewon closes her door slowly, the latch clicking into place without a sound. She stays there in the stillness, back against the door, eyes tracing the familiar walls of her home that somehow feel a little less hers now. The scent of you still lingers on her. The couch, the dining table, her bed, all of it holding the shape of something that came and went too quickly. She wraps her arms around herself, not from cold, but from the absence of your warmth she didn't get enough of. A small, tired smile crosses her lips.

[limemrys]

Where The Sun Rests

Hsu Nien Tzu x Yoon Seoyeon

Genre : Fluff

Word count : 2.8k

"Hey! Hello, Seoyeon!" Nien waves with a wide, albeit stiff smile.

The name bearer snaps her head to the voice. Her focused squinting on the phone screen eases into a groan of relief upon seeing her best friend. "Oh, there you are! Girl, you really just said 'bench behind Music & Arts'. There's like thirty of the damn things!"

"Aha! Y–yeah, right. I shoulda specified, heh." Nien's hands fidget with the hem of her sweater, lips continuously wetting each other.

Seoyeon saunters over to her then halts, sucking through her teeth and tilting her head. 

"What's wrong?" Nien asks, less stable than she intended. Seoyeon continues walking, though her steps are less spry and more calculated, eyeing Nien closely.

She sits silently, the corners of her mouth tugged up a bit. Nien swallows a loud gulp. "Alright, what's going on?" Seoyeon crosses her arms and turns her body.

Nien shrinks into herself, cold running down her back. "What's going—what do you mean?"

"Hello, Seoyeon?" Seoyeon chuckles in disbelief. "What happened to the 'hiya hiya, what's going on, Yoon Seoyeon!' bit you do?" She imitates Nien's tone as she quotes it.

"Oh my God, you know it word by word?" Nien grimaces, lowering her face. 

"Of course I do! You say it all the—hey, are you okay?"

Nien forces a chuckle. "O–Of course! I'm feel—feeling super today. Why'd you ask?" She tries to look Seoyeon in the eyes, fails after two seconds, looking away.

"Nien, you look...you don't sound okay. Is something up? Tell me." Seoyeon slides across the bench and reaches out for Nien's face, causing the latter to yelp and flinch.

"Oh my God! Are you sick? Does it hurt? You're sweating, Nien!" Seoyeon whines, reaching for Nien's arms this time. Nien doesn't flinch as badly, though she's lightly shivering now, breaths heavier.

"S–Seoyeon...I need—I got something to t–tell you," she murmurs, licking her lips as she does her best to look Seoyeon in the eyes.

"Mhm? What is it?" Seoyeon asks softly.

Nien takes a few deep breaths, blinking rapidly. "It's, um...I....there's—ugh, hold on, give me a minute, please?" She looks away again, fanning her cheeks.

"Of course. I'm right here, Nien. I'm not going anywhere."

"Mmm...why do you gotta sound so sweet!" Nien whines to herself.

"Huh? What was that?"

Nien doesn't answer, fanning her face harder. Her lips keep drying, she keeps licking them. "Alright. So, like, we've been...um, good–good pals for a while, yeah?"

Seoyeon raises a brow and lets out a single chuckle. "Girl, you're making me nervous—"

"Just listen!" Nien yells, covering her mouth right after, eyes wide. "I—I'm sorry, I wasn't...didn't mean to yell." Seoyeon let Nien's shoulder go in surprise, leaning back slightly. "It's...it's okay. I shouldn't have interrupted."

"No! Don't..." Nien raises both fists in the air, then drops them back to her lap. Another few breaths and she continues. "So...so. I didn't—don't remember when—since when. But...you...I—"

The words clog up in her throat, lips trembling, teeth clenched as a tense groan spills through in lieu of speech. Her head's thrown aside again, trying to bury itself in the crook of her shoulder.

Seoyeon watches with bated breath, her eyes darting all over Nien. Giving some moments to let the flow settle before asking, "You, I...what? Did...I do some—"

"Urgh! I like you! I Yeon Soo—I mean, Yoon Seoyeon! I like you! I like you a lot!" Nien utters breathlessly, fists clenched hard on her thighs. Her big round eyes are locked onto Seoyeon's, fearing she won't be able to anymore if she averts them even briefly.

Seoyeon stammers silently, eyes narrowing a smidge. "Nien..."

"Like, more than a friend! Way–way more! I like you so much it makes my chest hurt!" Nien's voice becomes less stable with every word. "Every time you...you feed me a bit of your food. Your smile and th–the little giggle you make after asking me to open a bottle. When—" 

She runs out of breath, the one she takes next sounding moist. "When you hold doors for me, fix my hair a bit even though—" Now she's starting to laugh, a wide, dumb grin unlike the one she forced on earlier. "Even though you didn't have to! Your smell, your presence—everything! It–it feels...different! I don't know how long, I just know it drives me crazy!"

Seoyeon's slightly open mouth shuts, curving downwards as she watches Nien panting. "Nien...is this—if this is a prank—"

"It's not! It's not a prank! Not a prank, I swe–ear..." Nien begins sobbing quietly. "I prepped the whole day for this! I like you so much..."

Seoyeon raises her arms tentatively, wrapping them around Nien and pulling her in. The moment she does, Nien breaks, crying into her shoulder.

She pats Nien on the back, her face burning hot and eyes getting glassy. Nien calms down after not very long, wiping her tears with haste, a pensive smile already adorning her face, 

"Nien..."

"I'm sorry! Just...I really wanna get it out right now. Felt like I'd literally explode if I don't," Nien chuckles, sniffling. "You don't...you don't have to answer right now." Her voice fades and speeds up towards the end, eyes down at her lap.

Seoyeon observes her for several moments, then smiles. It's not the dazzling summer sun that Nien's is, more like the cozy rays through the canopy of an autumn forest.

"Why would I do that?" she asks, almost too quiet for Nien to catch. "Hm?" the latter raises her head. "Why would I answer it later..." Seoyeon tucks a hair behind Nien's ear, making her breath hitch. " ...when you're right here, right now?"

Nien's mouth hangs open, eyes scanning Seoyeon's face. "Seoyeon..."

"I—phew, I don't think I've told you before, have I?" Seoyeon starts, tapping her fingers on the bench. "You know I got...a lotta people relying on me, yeah? Professors always appoint me to help manage their classes. Always the leader in group projects. Not to mention the club."

Nien nods silently. Seoyeon continues, "And so...a lot of the time, I gotta be upright. Reliable. The one who knows everything, even when I don't." She exhales through her nose, running her fingers through her hair. "It's a lot. Lots of pressure. And it bleeds into my daily life."

Seoyeon inches closer to Nien, eyes gazing deeply. "You help me...forget about them, even for just a bit. Reminds me that...that I don't have to be strong all the time. That not everything has to be perfect for them to work."

A sob, then another, then another from Nien. Each becoming less restrained. "Oh, Seoyeon..."

"Seriously. If not for your wacky ass segues to hang out at random hours of the day, I'd have missed a lot more meals!" Seoyeon scoffs, tickling Nien as well, the latter snickering between sobs. 

"Remember that one time? You said you wanted to try out that new Pho place at like...4 PM?"

Nien scoffs, biting her lip. "Wasn't even that good. Pricey as shit, too. Had the gall to call themselves 'authentic'? Bitch please!"

"Yeah! Did I ever tell you the...nonsense I just finished dealing with right before you texted?"

Nien shakes her head, pouting. "No, you didn't."

"I had—ugh!" Just the thought of it causes something to burble in her chest. "Some genius thought certain campus rules no longer applied to him. Because he wasn't a freshman anymore."

"No way," Nien chortles.

"Wasn't even the nuanced stuff, too. Things that are plain fucking obvious. Like how do you—" Seoyeon sighs, waving away the awful thought. "Anyways, you made me forget all that with your...passionate grovelling about the Pho. Learned some new Viet curses that day!" 

Both women laugh, reliving the memories and emotions of that late afternoon. 

"But um...yeah. When I'm with you, I feel...safe, without being strong. I can feel vulnerable, without—" A single tear rolls down Seoyeon's cheek, her voice also becoming wet. "—without feeling guilty."

Nien's cries get a bit quieter, but longer. "Stop! That's so...why are you so..." she trails off, covering her flushed face. Seoyeon snickers, then grits her teeth, preparing to continue.

"At some point, they did start feeling...different. All those little things you did for me. Being around you." Seoyeon rests her head on her fist, propped against the backrest. Nien follows suit, resting her temple entirely on the backrest, slightly hunched due to her greater height.

"Different...how?" Nien whispers.

Seoyeon ponders for a few, her tears speeding up. "Like–like I...wanted you."

Nien lets out a long squeal, then breaks down crying again, covering her face and shaking. "You did not just say t–that..."

"I wanted—I didn't want us to be just...I want—" Seoyeon groans, Nien's animated, genuine reactions making it harder for her to continue. "Everything! Everything..." she sobs. "When I see pretty things, I wanna show them to you. When things are hard, I want—you, your person. Like...you don't have to—" Seoyeon breaks down properly now, though her cries are silent.

Nien whines and slides over in a split second, closing the distance and hugging her tight. "Seoyeon...don't cry! You're making—" She sniffles and shakes her head, resting her chin on Seoyeon's shoulder. "No. Cry. Cry all you want, Seoyeon. I'm–I'm right here."

Seoyeon hiccups and keens a few times before she's able to go on. "You don't...don't need to do anything, Nien. I just want you near me, to know you're there with me, for me. Whatev—" She coughs. "Whatever it is. Is–is that okay?"

Nien nods fervently, having the unintended effect of hammering on Seoyeon's shoulder. "Ow, ow!" Seoyeon moans, half-chuckling half-sobbing.

Nien gasps and pulls away, massaging the spot. "Sorry! I was...sorry!" she grimaces, pouting at herself. Seoyeon grins, a smile curving her eyes all the way up. "You are so damn adorable, Nien."

Nien's lips curl inwards, then up as she shakes side-to-side, kicking her feet. Her face somehow gets redder than it already was, all the way to her ears.  Seoyeon giggles and settles, fanning and wiping her soaked cheeks. They stay like that for a bit, listening to the park and feeling the buzz of a different energy in the air between them.

"So...does all that mean..." Nien looks at Seoyeon expectantly, hands clasped tight. " ...you, like me back?"

Seoyeon clicks her lips a few times, then nods; oscillating her neck's full range of motion. "Mhm!"

"Can you say it?"

"I...like you, Hsu Nien Tzu. I like you a lot. More than—oh!" Nien squeals and launches herself at Seoyeon, capturing the smaller woman with a tight, crushing hug. Seoyeon's unable to hug back, arms pinned to her sides.

"Nien! You're—ah! Really—strong! Girl, ease up!" Seoyeon huffs. Nien loosens her arms, laughing. "Sorry, you are really...so small and huggable! Hehe!' Seoyeon scoffs and scoots over to rest her temple on Nien's shoulder. "Ah, this is nice. Too nice. I want this every day and night now," she murmurs.

"We can do that!" Nien chirps. Seoyeon sighs, dragging her head to look up at her. "I really wish we could."

Nien looks down at Seoyeon. Something catches in their throat as their faces' proximity to each other is viscous and apparent. Eyes dart between each other and their lips. Without thinking, Nien leans in closer, her warm breaths—

"Oh, oh! Whoa!" Seoyeon scoots away as her brain unpauses. Nien gasps and slides away also, though not as far as Seoyeon did.

"Were you...was that...trying to–to kiss me?" Seoyeon asks, her heart beating faster than the most daunting public appearances could make it.

Nien quietly stammers something, then straightens up. "I—yeah, no—I mean, yeah! Yes! I–I was! Why not?" She puts on a determined face, nostrils wide, jaws clenched. It lasts all of three seconds before it melts again, her mouth loosening to a small frown. "Can I?"

Seoyeon wets her lips and gulps, sliding towards Nien. Nien stays in place, her face tilting down to line up with Seoyeon's. 

Seoyeon raises her small hand, settling it on Nien's nape. "Do it," she whispers. 

Nien exhales through her mouth, gingerly leaning in. She closes her eyes, so does Seoyeon. Hovers closer and closer, they can feel the heat from each other's cheeks now, little breaths tickling. The sunlight through their eyelids dim as their faces block it out. Only centimeters now, she—

"Oop." Their noses bump into each other, sending both women snickering, almost barrelling into something uncontrollable that'll cancel this whole deal.

"Okay, okay. I–I'll go this way? You stay...yeah, yeah," Nien mumbles. Seoyeon chuckles, her eyes fluttering. "Do whatever you need, Nien. I'm yours."

Nien's hearstrings pang with an echo within her chest. She closes her eyes and tries again, tilting her head to the side this time, enough to clear their noses. When her lips land, she nearly moans. 

Seoyeon's lips are soft and small. It tastes of her lipstick, along with a trace of coffee. For over thirty seconds, that's all they do. Lips pressed against each other, not a word or breath uttered between them.

They separate to catch their breaths. Nien opens her eyes first, a longing gaze beaming onto Seoyeon's as hers flutters open. "Seoyeon..." Nien palms her cheek, caressing it and sliding down to her chin. "You are so beautiful."

Before Seoyeon can think up anything, Nien goes back in, hesitation gone. She gets more adventurous, putting Seoyeon's top lip between hers, sliding her bottom lip back and forth with her tongue. 

Nien unlatches briefly, switching to Seoyeon's bottom lip, doing the same. A breathy sound escapes Seoyeon, her hand pulling Nien deeper. Nien wraps her arm around Seoyeon's back, letting out long hums.

The humdrum of the campus park fades away, noon sunlight replaced with a hazy glow in their heads. They keep going until their lungs are ringing alarm bells, head light from more than euphoria.

Their lips smack loose, both women panting. Their eyes exchange looks of wonder and excitement, along with a hint of anxiety. "How...how did you do that?" Seoyeon croaks.

"I...looked it up. Just...you know. Kinda...curious," Nien whispers. 

"Of course you did." Seoyeon takes the reins this time, clutching Nien's shoulders. She isn't as composed as Nien; more impulsive, less methodical. Her mouth stretches around Nien's like she's trying to devour her whole, teeth clicking, tongue jutting around like it's mapping her.

Nien welcomes her all the same, easing back onto the bench to give her more leverage. The added pressure elicits a whimper from Nien, which spurs Seoyeon on. She'd have climbed into Nien's lap right then and there if Nien didn't frantically tap on her back, reminding her of where they are.

"W–Wow, Seoyeon." Nien gasps. "You...you're really eager."

"Is that a bad thing?" Seoyeon wheezes.

Nien's unable to hold back a toothy smile, shaking her head. "No. But...not here."

Seoyeon laughs, flustered. "Not here? What...what did you think I was gonna do?"

"S–Shut up! You know what it is."

Seoyeon doesn't confirm nor deny it, resting her head against Nien's, fingers poking at her biceps. "So...are we—ow! Official? What was that for?" Nien protests as Seoyeon bites her shoulder. The latter snickers, nursing the spot with her fingers. "Mhm. We are."

"Tsch. You hungry or something?"

"Also mhm. Didn't eat breakfast."

"Yoon Seoyeon!" Nien grumbles, gently pushing Seoyeon off her shoulder. "We're getting lunch. Right now. I'm paying. Curry sound good?"

Seoyeon's lips stretch to a thin, shy smile, cheeks blushing red. "Sounds good." Nien can’t help but chuckle, brushing away strands of hair stuck to Seoyeon’s damp forehead. “I think you gotta clean up first though. Your makeup—” Nien bursts out laughing and falls backwards on the bench.

Seoyeon’s face drops in horror, feeling her cheeks with her fingers. “Is it…bad?”

“It’s ruined!”

“God damn it.” Nien continues cackling, pointing at her face. “You knew you’d be bawling so you barely put on any, didn’t you?” Seoyeon asks.

“Uh-huh.”

Seoyeon hits her playfully, playing drums on her thigh while growling. Once she calms down, Nien gets an idea. “Well, since it’s already ruined…” She slides right next to Seoyeon. 

Seoyeon internally braces herself for more tomfoolery, arms ready to deploy. “What? What about it?” Nien’s eyes glance between different places to throw her off, seemingly settling on her belly. The real attack is on her cheek, smooching it hard enough to leave a mark. “Ahh! Nien! Really!” Seoyeon rubs the spot, observing the red smudge on her fingers.

“It was already ruined, so this won't hurt!” Nien guffaws in satisfaction, slapping her thighs. “Smartass. Get—you think there’s no payback? Get over here!” Seoyeon snarls and rushes to Nien. Nien’s faster though, leaping to her feet and taking off. “Try me!” she jeers, sticking out her tongue. Seoyeon gives chase, both women laughing and squealing as they run along the park.

[limemrys]

Tentram

Hsu Nien Tzu x Male reader

Genre : Fluff, Angst

Word count : 1.0k

TW : Death, Blood

a/n : This was written for @mysonesecret's A Thousand Words challenge over on Fanprose

Hands. Nien offered hers as the answer after I mustered every morsel of courage in the world to confess after an exceptionally boring class. 

“Huh? That…your—wait! Really?”

“Yeah! That’s what people do when they’re dating, right?” she giggled with the brightest smile I’ve ever seen on a person. I tentatively gave my hand, but Nien grabbed it and dragged me along with her. “Come on, let’s have lunch!” 

“Whoa–hey! Wait, I haven’t packed my stuff yet!”

Nien cackled and did a U-turn, flunking me towards my desk. “Better be quick or I’m gonna eat you instead, sugarpie!”

“Got it. Give me a minu—sugarpie?” 

“Mhm. You asked me out so sweetly and you got a big round head, so…sugarpie!” she snickers, drawing a circle in the air with both hands. I chuckle in amazement, nodding. “I guess that’s me.”

“Hurry up!”

“Okay!”

***

Hands. I held Nien’s throughout and after she cried from nervousness and anxiety a few days before our wedding.

“Why’d you say yes?”

“Hm?” she mumbled, curled up on my chest. 

I gently wiped away some of her dried tears. “Why did you say yes to, well…my proposal? Just…curious.”

Her mouth tugged side-to-side in thought before blooming into a small, warm smile. “You feel…hmm…peaceful.”

“Peaceful? Me?” I laughed.

Nien nodded. “You…I feel…I know I don’t have to be afraid of anything beside you. Even when I do bad things. You don’t hesitate to set me straight, without any judgement.” Her hand rose to caress my cheek, then poked at it softly. “I can be anything, everything, or nothing. When you’re beside me, my heart is at peace.”

Hatiku damai, jiwaku tentram di sampingmu.

I could feel my heart thumping harder, Nien likely could as well by how she was grinning. My cheeks bloomed warm as I cupped hers, leaning down for a kiss. “I’m gonna marry you again, I swear.”

“We haven’t even married once, you silly!” she giggled into my lips.

“Don’t care. I love you that much.” 

Nien kissed me this time. “I love you too, sugarpie.”

***

Hands. Nien held mine as she nursed them after I opened a suspicious package that was meant for her, which turned out to be a small firebomb.

“Those assholes,” she huffed, her eyes blazing. “Using these old ass scare tactics—what do they think this is, 1960?”

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, sorry!” She blew on my burnt hand softly. 

“It’s okay, honey. It wasn’t your fau—”

“No, it’s not okay!” she snarled, her jaws trembling before she started sobbing. “Those…fucking Vulpes thugs would rather do this shit than actually admit their atrocities. Think they’re above everyone else.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with her elbow.

“Well, I’m one journalist they won’t silence. I wasn’t gonna stop, but now they hurt my sugarpie? I’m gonna skin them alive. I’m gonna be even louder.”

“Honey, isn’t that…dangerous?” 

“That’s exactly what they want,” she gritted. “Want me to be scared. Fuck that.” She gets back to treating my burns. “You believe in me, don’t you?”

I sighed. “I’m still a bit concerned…but, I do. All the way. Fuck them up, hon—ow!” I tried to raise a fist. Nien whined, slapping my back. “What are you doing? You’re still hurt!”

“Yeah, forgot,” I snickered. “You’re really hot when you’re mad, by the way.”

Nien couldn’t help but laugh, slapping me softer and pulling in to peck my lips. “You silly, beautiful man.”

“Takes one to know one.”

***

Hands. I was jumping in place to surprise Nien and hold hers as her train pulled onto the platform. As I looked around for her among the disembarking passengers, I heard a woman scream.

“HELP!”

I didn’t think twice before running to the car it came from. “What’s going on?” I asked a passenger crowding around something. 

“I think someone’s hurt, I’m not sure.”

I pushed past the crowd, and my heart dropped. Nien was on the floor, half conscious, her lower torso stained deep red. Her head rested on the lap of a woman quietly sobbing, her hands also stained as it pressed on Nien’s stomach. “What…what–what happened? I–I’m her husband, please tell me!”

“I don’t know!” she cried, shaking her head. “She was standing next to me, and there was…like this, this group that came in and bumped into us.” She sniffled and swallowed. “Then they got off here, and then…and then she just collapsed!”

“Oh my God…honey. Nien, honey! Can you hear me?” I held her cheek and turned her face towards me. “Did—did you call an ambulance yet?”

“I did…told the driver to–to stop the train, too.”

“Did you, um…here, let me.” I took over putting pressure on Nien’s wound. “You remember anyone from that…the ones who bumped into you?”

The woman bawled, shaking her head. “No! I’m sorry sir, I didn’t—it was…I’m sorry!”

I nodded and leaned closer to Nien. “Nien, honey. Hey, I’m here. Can you hear me?”

She stirred weakly, her voice airy and thin. “Sugarpie?”

“Yeah, me! Sugarpie!” Tears started falling. “Help is on the way, so stay awake for me, okay? I won’t go anywhere, I promise. Just stay with me, please.”

Nien’s lips curved into a frail smile, her bloody hand floating up to my cheek. “Sugarpie…”

“Mhm, what is it, hon?”

She didn’t answer, only opening her eyes a bit wider to look at me. Her smile grew just a bit, then started to wilt away as her breath slowed. 

“Honey? Hey! Don’t—stay with me! Don’t you dare! Stay with me, Hsu Nien Tzu! Don’t—” I choked. “Don’t leave me alone…please…”

 Her featherlight breaths slowed down more, then stopped completely. The light behind her glossy brown eyes dwindled, then faded into emptiness. 

“No, no! Nien! Honey! Wake up!” My hand moved from her wound to catch her hand sliding away from my cheek. I gripped it harder than ever, sobbing profusely. “Wake up, please…”

Hands. That was the last time mine held hers. And I would do anything to hold it just once more.