Event Horizon

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[jupiterpilgrim]

Business Babes

word count: 18K

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing bad could possibly happen here.

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

...

Well.

Looks like your territory's been invaded.

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

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

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

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

You blink hard and rub your eyes.

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

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

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

She grins. Not in a nice way.

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

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

"That's a bold statement."

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

"X."

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

Your pen stops moving.

"Oh…"

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

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

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

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

"Don't be scared. Be flattered."

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

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

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

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

"Amazing. Please engrave that on my grave."

"Stop being so dramatic."

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hold on. This is your account?”

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

"No. Never.”

"Why not?"

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

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

"Anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

"That's called harassment."

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

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

"Fuck me..." you mutter.

"Is that a yes?!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

"You have very specific priorities."

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

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

You take it. "Vertical or horizontal?"

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

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

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

"Huh?'' she mutters.

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

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

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

"I'm just saying."

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

"And then looking bad."

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

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

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

And just like that, she's performing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Genetics," you manage.

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

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

She looks better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you. I guess."

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

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

"What."

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

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

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

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

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

—

The girls have officially taken over the theater lobby.

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

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

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

"I have," Asa says.

Every head turns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

"Someone we know?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chaeyoung blinks. "Wait, really?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

"Hey, you!"

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

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

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

Jeon Somi stands in front of you.

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

“Are you deaf?” she asks bluntly.

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

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

“Where? Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yesterday it was Asa. Today it’s Somi.

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

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

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

"I'm familiar, yeah."

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

"Why me specifically?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She sneezes violently out of nowhere.

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

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

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

"Yeah, that's my usual orbit."

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

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

"Nice to meet you too."

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

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

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

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

"And that's worth it?"

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

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

"It is insane behavior," you confirm.

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

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

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

"It's decent."

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

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

"Don't test me right now."

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

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

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

"Sure you have."

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

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

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

Better to keep that card in your back pocket.

"It's personal," you say.

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

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

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

"Professional setup,” you say.

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

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

Somi raises an eyebrow. "You think?"

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

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

"Wait. One thing."

She stops and turns. "What now?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not one like this."

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

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

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

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

"Because I'm thinking ahead.”

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

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

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

"Excuse me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Extremely."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm close," you tell them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I believe you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

Instagram DM. Huh_Yunjin.

You stop walking in the middle of the hallway.

hey 🤍 you free rn?

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

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

wyd?

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

where r u

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

how do i know this isn't some prank

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

Photo • View Once.

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

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

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

omw🏃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yunjin in person is something else.

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

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

"You called me."

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

"I've heard about the challenge."

Her eyebrows lift. "Oh, really?"

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

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

"That picture would make a dead man hard."

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

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

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

"You'll find out."

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

"I'll do my best."

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

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

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

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

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

"All the way?"

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

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

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

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

"You're perfect."

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

Her hands settle on the front of your pants.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a pretty strong review.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve barely started.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You weren’t exaggerating.”

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

“Would you believe gummy bears?”

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

“I’m not joking.”

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

“That’s the plan.”

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

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

"It’s crossed my mind, yeah.”

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

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

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

"You invited me."

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

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

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

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

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

"Want what?"

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

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

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

Yunjin takes it beautifully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's, like, really insane."

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That sounds flattering.”

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

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

“Yeah. My place.”

“I thought you got what you needed.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be there,” you say.

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

“You were insane.”

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

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

“Glad the production value survived.”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's not a race, Ning."

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

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

"Growing on you how?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Together?" Shuhua asks.

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

Oh. Sure. The last two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And both of you are recording this together."

"Yes," they say in unison.

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

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

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

"Go ahead."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ning winks at the lens. Shuhua blows a kiss.

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

Perfect content.

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

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

"I did the best I could."

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

"Thank you," Asa says simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You and your analytics," Yunjin mutters.

"My analytics pay my rent."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh my god," Chaeyoung breathes.

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

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

"This isn't funny."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That lying piece of shit," Somi hisses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Out where?" Asa asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't encourage him," Somi snaps.

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

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

"This only happened once.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somi snorts. Ning grins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone turns to stare at her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

on our way. going separately. be careful

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile softly. “Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why not?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Take your time."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chaeyoung is giggling uncontrollably, clapping along with them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ning snorts. Asa covers her mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The store is silent for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Six girls exchange glances. A long, terrible silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You absolutely did not," Shuhua says flatly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What happens next, you already know.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Hi there, long time enjoyer, first time caller.

Just wanted to say, you really outdid yourself with the newest story.

I was a really big fan of the gummy idea in the story, a bit of absurdity/hentia levels of production never hurt anyone 😂

I was curious if u had plans on what/who you’re writing for next if you’re open to talking about that.

Personally I’ve been hopeful that Miss Sun, or King for a Day will make a return.

Though that’s not in hopes of pressuring you.

As someone who really enjoys ur writing I’m more than content to wait patiently and happily for whatever u write next.

Anyway thank you for you time.

Stay safe, stay healthy.

- Exo

Hii Exo, I swear I see your icon in my notifications every time I post a fic lol. You're a real one.

I'm happy you liked the latest story! Also, the aphrodisiac gummy bear bit is actually a callback to another fic, so if you haven't read that one yet, you'll probably enjoy it too because the levels of absurdity are even higher. You can read it here.

King for a Day and especially Miss Sun are two of the stories people ask for sequels to the most, but I don't have anything concrete planned for them right now. The continuations currently in progress are The Girl on the Moon and Pieces of a Dream (available on AO3 and Fanprose). But yeah, I definitely want to revisit both of the stories you mentioned eventually.

Thank you for your continued support. It genuinely means a lot. Take care of yourself and stay healthy too, Exo <3

[jupiterpilgrim]

hi jupiter

do you think we’ll get chapter 3 of the many faces of winter this year? i started thinking about it randomly today and i got anxious thinking about what might happen at graduation 😭😭

I said it'd be out this year, and I fully intend to honor that promise by posting it at 11:59 PM on December 31st. Assuming everything goes according to plan. Please pray for me 🙏

[jupiterpilgrim]

any chance we could get a part two of girl on the moon?

Part 2 is officially on the way 🫡

[jupiterpilgrim]

Hi Jupiter-nim!

Just wanted to get this out of the way, but you’ve really been cooking with the threesome fics lately, especially If the Feeling’s Right and King for a Day. I think If the Feeling’s Right wrapped up really smoothly, so I don’t even think it needs extra parts, but King for a Day genuinely left me curious.

The dynamic and build-up within the smut was honestly impressive, especially the way you weave in little bits of lore and character detail through the conversations mid-scene. It makes everything feel more creative and layered, rather than just being there for the sake of it (it's something that I believe you specialise in and is inimitable after reading most of your fics)

I was wondering if there might ever be a part 2 for King for a Day? There were subtle hints here and there, like Yujin’s past with Wonyoung, and I’d honestly love to see more of that explored. Even short fics about the solo dates with Rei and Yujin, with a fluffier side would be really fun too.

Also..!

I don't know if you remember the hefty comment I sent when The Many Faces of Winter part 2 dropped;

I’ve been a fan of your fics for a long time now, especially The Many Faces of Winter, still waiting for part 3 🥴 and Before the World Knew. (just wanted to know if there's update on those two, no rush tho... because greatness takes time), I mean you could probably tell from my profile that I’m an Aespa stan, so those fics just stuck with me.

I’d love to say more, but I don’t want to waffle too much. Take care always, Jupiter-nim, and I’m looking forward to your future works!

Huzzah, I go! ⚡

Heyyy, glad to see you again!!

First of all, thanks for the ask. I still remember your other one on The Many Faces of Winter, which is genuinely one of my favorite asks I've ever gotten <3

So yeah, King for a Day absolutely and intentionally implies a continuation because there's still a ton of unanswered stuff, mostly because the fic kinda drops you right in the middle of the chaos. Things like who Wonyoung actually is, how Yujin and Rei ended up working with her, and most importantly what the hell is gonna happen now that Yujin literally burned the contract tying OC to Wonyoung. Which was an insanely dangerous move btw.

And of course, what Yujin and Rei's relationship with OC is even gonna look like from now on. So yeah, there are still a lot of questions left and a lot of consequences waiting to happen. I definitely want to make a continuation someday.

Also really happy you like the weird kinda absurd way I write smut. It's basically that thing Yuna says about threesomes in If The Feeling's Right. I write smut like the characters are just hanging out and talking like friends. It just so happens that somebody has a dick in their ass or a pussy in their mouth lol.

I'm kinda silly sometimes, so writing completely raw, brutal, animalistic, full porn mode smut isn't really my thing. I need dialogue in there. I need somebody saying some dumb shit in the middle of it.

And about The Many Faces of Winter: the next chapter will happen eventually. I actually started it forever ago and it's already halfway done, I just need to finish it. But I have so many things in progress, new stories, random ideas, that I keep procrastinating and end up finishing absolutely nothing lol. But it'll happen eventually. Before the end of the year, hopefully 🙏

Thanks again for the ask, it was really fun answering it, and take care too. See you somewhere down the road in another fic ✨

[jupiterpilgrim]

Beneath the quirky petals might be top 3 fics for me. Thank u goat

Really? Omg, I’m genuinely flattered lol, I appreciate it a lot. And coincidentally, Chaeyoung’s finally making a comeback in my next fic after being absent for so long :p

[usedpidemo]

you make me

ive x m!reader

23.2k words (read it on fanprose)

—————

Tonight should have been one of the best nights of your life. Instead, it feels like the end of the world.

See, you had the whole thing planned out months in advance. How the proceedings would go from start to finish. It was gonna be special; people would go crazy. They'd cheer, celebrate, and scream your name so loud you'd feel like you're on top of the world.

None of that happened. What you were left with is a broken dream and absolute heartbreak.

 —————

Time flies when you're having fun. At least that's what was supposed to happen. Tonight should have been the triumphant climax of all your hard work and patience. The culmination of five long years of diehard, borderline obsessive fandom. Years of saving little by little, counting the days, making countless prayers to a God that's mostly indifferent, until, finally—your pleas had been heard by the powers above. One simple announcement on a Wednesday morning:

IVE is coming for their world tour.

You've been a fan since debut. Anticipated the months after Yujin and Wonyoung finished their time in IZ*ONE. Almost five years since you knew they'd be the one, you'd only seen them from behind screens, in other people's cameras, and curated content. Years pass; they take over Korea, eventually the world. You have no place in it. But you're still waiting. For lack of a better word, you're obsessed.

Not in a stalkerish, 'I'll follow them to their place and bother them' way. Fucking no. You know your boundaries as a fan. Rather, the kind that teeters along the line of parasocial and absolute dedication. Their influence is all over your bedroom: posters that plaster the walls, shelves of magazines with them on the cover that you carefully maintain from dust, binders upon binders of photocards both common and rare, but most importantly, albums of every version that you consider sacred. The crown jewel of your hypercapitalist consumption. The family says you're wasting your time and money. Your friends laugh it off and call you quirky, steering conversations away from K-pop whenever possible, because they know you'll go into 30 minute tangents that somehow lead into IVE. At least they're understanding. Or highly tolerant.

They don't really know just how deep it goes. How much these six women mean to you, beyond the music and the fact they're so unbelievably pretty. That's a given.

But back to the matter at hand:

You've had the dates marked on the calendar the moment the official announcement hit. After five years and two world tours, they were stepping foot on home soil for the first time. Your territory. Not a festival with only 30-45 minutes per performer, not even as a one hour headliner. A full blown concert. They'd missed you the first go around, and for many days and nights, you'd cursed everything. Lamented that the only way you could ever remotely get close to these girls was to take a flight elsewhere, and the process was already a battle of its own. 

Not anymore. That risk was gone; the only thing you needed to secure was the ticket. You'll worry about what happens after.

And you'd been preparing. Waiting for the day when you could finally take from an account that had been storing bits of leftover money from your salary or allowance, four years of slow-burning patience and hope. It was enough. More than. Except it wasn't. 

You were not taking any chances. You used every dirty trick in the book; bots, third-parties, people who only accepted a small fee in exchange for direct links to skip the impossibly long queue, to get an unassailable advantage even during presale. The people were yearning for more K-pop concerts, and at last, they were blessed. In a place where live music is few and far between, you weren't the only one starved. Anyone, regardless of their public recognition, could come and sell out if they went; that's how dry it's been. 

All those efforts weren't for naught. You're right where you want to be: front row. Exactly where they'd be passing by every now and then.

The rest could take care of itself.

 Even through your earplugs, you can feel the ground moving beneath and the collective noise of thousands piercing your eardrums. The way the roar of the crowd reverberates everywhere, the bass of the speakers thrumming throughout the arena. 

You're ready. Everyone is ready.

Anticipation pulses through your veins. You're counting the minutes till they take the stage. Lightstick on one hand—the latest version—your phone in the other. Your bag feels heavy, but the adrenaline makes you soar. Not even the stash of freebies from other fans, tour merch you'd bought at a rinkydink tent after waiting in line for hours, and an album and some photocards you hope they'll sign keeps you down.

This is your second concert, actually. You promised they would be your first, but circumstances got in the way. So you wound up flying off elsewhere to see another group instead. But finally, after four years of watching behind screens, of saving what little money you can, of building a shrine to the girl group of your dreams—it's all led to this.

The lights go dark. The crowd lets out a thunderous roar. Nothing else matters anymore; only you and the stars on that stage.

They emerge like angels descending from heaven to bless the ground you're stepping on. In all black leather looking lethal. It's a tired saying, but screens do little justice to how godly they are in real life.

And for the most part, it's everything you wanted and more. They move at a breakneck pace, performing one song to the next, even completing their solos with hardly any opportunities for them to speak until past the first hour (when they formally introduce themselves). Then they do their trademark hits. At one point, the crowd barks; you cringe, but they revel in it, so it's now tolerable. Your ears may be hurting, your arms are sore holding up their lightstick, and your body is being put through hell and back crammed inside a crowded pit, but you're having the time of your life.

You don't think in the moment; the music is still booming, and your fervor is still at a fever-pitch. They come out for the encore and spread everywhere. A member or two comes around your area every now and then. You hold up a sign. One handcrafted from love and patience. They glance, but their attention ends up with someone else. Even when you wave harder, they give hearts, blow kisses, but not of them land on you. 

Something shifts. Your zeal flickers. They're now giving their farewell speeches, and fans are shouting mid-speech: they laugh, giggle, get them to answer back. You're still holding up the sign in the hopes one of them will acknowledge it, but their gaze fixes up ahead. They do their final two songs, and the cycle repeats: a member passes your way, you hold up a sign, they look everywhere except you. Each pass, each distant gaze chips away at your heart.

And after two hours, it ends.

Confetti springs everywhere, they're waving goodbye, headed in your direction as a collective. Fuck concert etiquette now; you have your sign held up to the sky. Just a flicker, a single point of recognition is all you want. Their gazes move from left to right, mostly at the seated lower box—but they look past you again. To the people beside you. Everywhere but you. Then they turn away. They've given you the cold shoulder.

They take their final bows and walk to the back of the stage, still waving as the panel closes in front of them, and then they're gone for good. 

The stage lights come back on. Staff usher out the crowds, telling them to leave as the cleanup crew steps in. VIPs are told over the speaker to stay put. You are staying put, but your excitement has completely died. Your body leans on the barricade, folding in utter disbelief, giving out after enduring so much: the frenzied movement of the crowd, the energy you exerted waving your lightstick and sign, a general lack of sleep, and the fact that none of the girls looked at you even once.

But the night isn't quite over yet. There's still a send-off. And one way or another, you will leave with something.

—————

Waiting is its own torture.

You're scrolling through your camera roll in the meantime, scanning, assessing all the photos and videos you've taken. None of them do justice to how they truly shine with your own two eyes, even with the occasional blur and shake. Being a hair's width from them, breathing the same air as them—it should have been enough. It isn't.

There's no point of contact. Not a single photo, not a single second, not even a single frame in any of the footage you've checked where at least one of the girls meet you or your lens, even when they're right in front of you. Nothing at all. 

You were too caught up in the heat of the moment to truly notice. How they'd get the ones beside you or behind you, but never exactly you. The way they'd skip past in favor of someone else. Maybe it's only coincidence; so far, you haven't analyzed every video frame by frame.

Doesn't matter right now. The staff are making the announcement, ushering in clusters of VIPs into the backstage pen where send-off happens. Perhaps this is how the universe corrects; that this is the twist that tonight will bring to give you the happy ending you dreamed of.

When they lead your section in, you follow along. Carefully monitoring the environment, the groups that have already flanked the front rows ahead. There's hardly any space left to fit in, nor is there enough room around the corners. At this point, you'd be three or four people behind, some behemoths, others carrying obstructive signs. If they couldn't see you up front, they definitely won't see you now. But your eagle-eyed gaze catches on the far right edge of the room: a tiny, intimate zone beside a concrete pillar that is an island in and of itself. 

So while no one's watching or paying attention, you stake your claim: a prime spot before anyone else even considers it. Given the circumference of the lounge, they're bound to walk past you again. This time, you'll correct those mistakes.

The others pick up rather late, take their spots beside you. No matter. You're still in a prime spot, right as they're about to exit—or where they'll start first. Either way, that interaction you've been chasing is all but guaranteed. Surely.

For a few minutes, everyone waits. Across your vantage point, some push and assert their presence, but for the most part, it's all calm, tense excitement. One last chance to see their favorites up close. But for you, one last chance to prove you meant something.

From a distance, a door can be heard swinging open. The ripple comes quietly at first, like the calm before an incoming tsunami. And then, a thunderous roar echoes around the intimate room.

They're here. Again. Still wearing their encore fits. Still unbelievably ethereal. 

Etched on their features are tired but steady little smiles. But they're not complaining, nor does the idol veneer crack. It's only been 40 minutes since the concert ended, and they were performing for almost two and a half hours straight. Yet here they are, waving at everyone like they can go another round. They're professional as ever, even when signs and albums and phones are being harshly thrust upon their faces.

Your items are ready: a pen, their latest album, the same A4 sized sign you've been raising on and off throughout the show, now ragged and worn, and a set of photocards, one for each member to sign. There's also a handwritten letter in your bag that you plan to bring out when they get close. And somehow, even after two hours of shouting and yelling, you still have a voice. You'll expend the last your lungs can produce if it means they finally see you.

They're starting from the other side of the room, and you watch them deliver their best. From left to right, they settle into fanservice like it's muscle memory.

Gaeul calmly waves at anyone she sees. She looks at a girl's banner with her photos on it and a message printed in big Hangul font. Points at it like it's the most precious thing in the world. Then she leans forward to pose for another fan's phone, and it's like the spotlight is shining just for her. She asks them to show the photo, and after a brief inspection, nods in approval before moving on.

Leeseo's moving like a ball of charisma. Her smile is sunshine incarnate. She's energetically active on her feet, but grounded at the same time. She meets a half-heart from a girl and completes it. Then another. And another. Someone presents their Erang-e plush in front of her, and she tickles the fabric like it were her own. Someone's trying to reach out for a heart from behind a trash bin, and she meets them halfway. Doesn't matter that her hair's touching the chute; she's gonna meet them all.

Rei's the chattiest of the bunch. Hand to her ear, playfully making everyone shout louder, listening as everyone calls out her name. And somehow, in the midst of the commotion, she can single out a specific voice to find them. A fan holds up a sign asking her to do that stupidgesture, and she does exactly that with her cheeky trademark grin. The crowd roars its approval as they all collectively shout 'six-seven!', sharing a laugh with them before moving on.

Wonyoung is exactly who she is: an untouchable princess, grace given human form. Her movements are effortless, but deliberate; she keeps herself distant from the barricade, but she's the most attentive and keen-eyed (though they all are). She points at every girl in the crowd, her skin radiant under the pale orange lights, and she floats along the line with her usual style. Someone asks her to do her legendary twirl, and she delivers, leaving that section swooning. Another asks her if she can have her photocard with her face signed; she claps her hands together gently and bows apologetically. To compensate, she playfully waves her fingers around in the shape of her signature and blesses their camera.

Liz quietly scans the crowd. Takes her sweet time to find someone holding a banner clearly breaking venue rules, with a clear message: Kim Jiwon you're unreal! She gently laughs and blows a kiss directly at the lucky fan, who almost immediately fucking loses it. Much like her older member, she keeps a respectable distance from the barricade, but her eyes quickly work through those holding her photocards, banners, and makes sure she points out every single one. Someone asks them to pose with Rei; of course she hesitates, but Rei obliges and the chemistry is undeniable.

And finally, Yujin makes the girls in front berserk. She knows she's got them all hooked. The slight hint of her toned midriff is enough for them to go feral. She keeps the motions simple: wave, then heart. Rinse and repeat. But every now and then, she'll tease her bare shoulder off the cut part of her shirt, or lift the bottom to make her stomach clear, and she relishes in being gawked at.

Slowly but surely, the members make their trip around the line. Trying to find every face possible, trying to acknowledge everyone in the room. Staff and security closely flanking each girl gesture subtly, whispering behind tightly knit hands. A little bit faster please. We have to go. 

And they try. Even with the pressures of time, they try. Most of the love and affection end up falling in the first three rows; anyone below 5'5 and those in the back are hidden behind taller, more demanding heads and a cloud of unruly banners, signs, picket fans, and cellphones. It's bad luck and poor optics at play.

Not you. You're in the right spot. The place perfectly suited for them to find you as they finish their walk around the line.

So you wait. Each step forward they take makes you tenser, more anxious. The thought starts out innocuous: what if they don't see you, what if they stop right before your section, what if—

No. There's no way they wouldn't—

But not right now. They're about to turn the corner, one member after the other. Gaeul first.

Phone in one hand, sign on the other. You've returned the photocards and album back into your bag, knowing they've actively refused to sign anything other than air. Company rules or whatever bullshit, it's not gonna happen tonight. That's what fansigns are for, probably. Any interaction—even a second of clear recognition through your lens—is more than enough to complete your night. 

You're screaming her name now. Still harsh, still as loud as it was two hours ago, even when the cracks occasionally show. She's completing a guy's heart, mere spaces beside you. Waves to someone in the back holding a Dal-e plush. The guy you've been beside with the whole concert shows her a banner with her head photoshopped wearing an orange around her head, and she laughs, pointing at it and asking if she can hold it for a photo. Her gaze shifts quickly, and you can feel her eyes tilting in your direction. This is it—

But she snags right before you make direct eye contact, stops on a dime and turns on her heel, walking away from your section, slowly, waving off to the crowd in the distance. Ouch.

So you try again. Rei bounds in next, smiling from ear to ear. She hi-fives a kid and gently pats her head, then does her trademark aegyo for a fan holding a sign saying he traveled from the Philippines just to see her. Right there, dancing along the barrier, she's just one glance away from finding you—and she doesn't. Much like Gaeul, she turns around and heads the other way, done with your section.

The pain doesn't ache, at least not right away. Your smile quirks just a tad. Hope isn't completely dead yet. Not until they're all saying goodbye. Still four more chances. Surely. 

The worst thing imaginable isn't about to happen, right.

Leeseo steps in, still lively as ever, still infectious. She completes a heart from someone in the third row, pushing through the wall of bodies between her and the fan sandwiched in there. But that's pretty much it; she takes a step back to wave at the surrounding area, which somehow feels intentionally hurtful and personal since her gaze completely erases your presence, and blows a kiss spanning everyone but you. Then like the members before her, she proceeds to look the other away and back to the center.

Still keeping her distance, Wonyoung points and shoots. Blesses every fan she finds with her magic fingers. A girl holds up a paper asking her to make a wish since it happens to be her birthday, and she pauses. Closes her eyes, softly puts her hands together for a brief moment of prayer, and then blows a magic candle in her direction. She spots a fan in the fourth row holding up a peach-shaped sign with a picture of Yujin and her together from one of their fansigns. Yujin spots it and joins her in winking at that lucky son-of-a-bitch. Then Wonyoung spins away in the opposite direction.

At this point, it feels like you're fighting an uphill battle. No matter how much you scream their names, they don't hear you. No matter how hard you wave your sign, it simply doesn't exist. In their eyes, somehow, you seem to be like transparent glass that they see right past.

You don't break, at least not completely. Your knees begin to crumple, your heart splintering into fractures. You barely manage to keep the tears at bay, trying to avoid causing a scene, especially in a private, intimate setting like this, with all the phones around and the idols you adore standing right there. 

Your gut tells you it's over, to give up and accept the harsh and brutal reality that you're nobody, but your heart believes in miracles. 

It's only delusional until it works.

Fortunately, Yujin hasn't completely turned away yet. She's moved back in the line to entertain what you assume to be a personal friend, and Liz is now going ahead. So you focus on her instead. She blinks, waves tirelessly at every fan she can see. Someone dressed as her from the Eleven music video (Elizabeth Helga Muller, obviously) catches her eye, and in a rare moment, she steps forward to pose for her camera. But it's fleeting; she steps back just as quickly as she bounded, and returns to waving at everyone within her line of sight. Even so, you appear invisible to her; she stops right at the fan beside you, pointing her face on the guy's shirt and takes her leave.

And finally, Yujin. Back to completing your section, she laughs at a sign held by a guy saying he's cray cray for her. She winks at a fan's camera, then poses by flaunting her bare, toned shoulder for good measure. The screams climb a pitch higher, much to her amusement. You're screaming her name loudly; you don't know where this second wind came from. Desperation, most likely. Like if she doesn't find you within the next five or so seconds, you're probably going to explode.

Nothing like that happens, obviously. But the pain doesn't hurt any fucking less. If she was holding a knife, then she twisted it into your heart, took it out, and then stabbed you again for good measure. 

So yeah. Of course she doesn't see you either. One last time, all six girls gather at the center of the lounge where everyone can see, and they wave in every direction. Yujin yells out "Thank you for coming! Safe travels everyone!" to a roar of approval from the crowd. Then they leave, in the direction where they entered from—for good. 

It's only after Liz, the last member to disappear past the door, when reality finally sets in:

You are nothing to them. You mean nothing to them. They don't love you like that. 

The tears come falling down. Slowly at first; little drops here and there, the occasional sob and sniffle shadowing the blind, carefree joy that had been stretched thin the moment the stage lights came back on. But it waterfalls almost as quickly, trickles onto the floor like storms on a dark, gloomy sky. Your head bows almost instinctively, like you've laid someone or something you love to rest after watching them die. And something did: a piece of your heart. Actually, the whole goddamn thing.

You didn't ask for much. You didn't even want them to read your sign anymore; a simple eye contact from even just one member was all you wanted. A glimmer of recognition from the people you loved unconditionally, through highs and heartbreaks, and they couldn't even deliver that. Four years of waiting. Of hoping. Of praying for a moment where they could see you, and it never came. 

At first, you thought of the whys, the hows. Where it all went wrong. Nothing makes sense. You had signs like everyone else. Their lightstick in your hand. By the grace of God, you were posted up front row. Screamed their names like it was your religion. There were countless moments, opportunities, frames where you swear they would have 100% found you, but no. Three different avenues to see you, just once, even for a tiny glimpse, and you were completely invisible. 

In the end, you were nothing. You've been nothing. It took this, a brutal wake-up call for you to realize that.

The world you know has been reduced to blurs and white noise. Your knees have given up; you've let your body melt onto the metal post like all the adrenaline keeping you afloat has finally run dry. Even as the crowd begins to disperse, as security and staff usher out the VIPs since they have to clean house for tomorrow's event, you remain there. Frozen. Unwilling to let the impossibility of the situation fully sink in. 

Eventually, you push away. Your legs move of their own accord, slowly walking away from the place where your heart was crushed. To avoid being hounded by the staff, probably not; the world keeps turning. Life goes on. 

Here's the harsh, cruel reality of fandom: the biggest, core memory defining nights of your life is just another Saturday to them. For them, it's another date on an already tiring marathon, another stopover to a massive paycheck. They always say the same things, about how much they love all their fans, love the place they're performing in, and it's all in the oh-so obvious rehearsed script. You should have known this by now; the screen containing their script was right next to you on the floor.

But for the four years you've waited, it was real. And for those two hours or so, you wanted it to be true. Instead, it turned out to be a fucking lie. You peered through the magician's hat and instead of finding a rabbit, there was nothing at all.

The only thing left is a heart that's been completely hollowed out.

—————

Suddenly, everything feels louder, more oppressive. More tilting than the floor you'd been standing on for hours.

The walk out of the venue feels like a slow-moving procession to your fandom. Instead of leaving in joy like everyone else, you're walking away defeated and dejected. Your shoulders are slouched, head dipped to avoid human contact, the bag holding your merch barely clinging to your hand. 

You feel alien. Actually, you are.

All around you, people are celebrating. Fans, families, friends moving along in high-spirits, comparing interactions, texting loved ones, sharing pics and fancams that are worth a few hundred likes on social media at the bare minimum. 'Gaeul pointed at my banner!' 'Wonyoung blew me a kiss!' 'Rei laughed at my sign!' 'Liz took a selfie with me!' 'Leeseo completed my heart!' 'Yujin danced Genie for me—'

Every win is a personal attack; every smile and laugh is an insult. Nevertheless, you quietly soldier on. 

Outside, lampposts guide your way around the mostly lifeless parking lot. The crowd behind you becomes dark blots the further you get away: some hail cabs, others leaving in organized carpools, the rest walking to nearby hotels—same as you. The noise fades the deeper you go. It's here, when the only thing you can hear is the crunch of gravel on the floor, is where you finally feel well and truly alone. Walking by your lonesome in this empty night, it's as if you're returning to the dark, empty void where you belong.

At the outer edges of the car park, you come across a dumpster. One side of the lid is open, reeking of God knows what kind of trash. You lift your plastic bag containing evidence of tonight's wreck: half a dozen unopened photocard packs, a white tour shirt and matching gray hoodie, a handmade sign you spent countless tries perfecting and fucking up, quirked up with each member's distinct personalities, aesthetic preferences, and MINIVE stickers, and finally, the group's lightstick dimmed out.

And much like an alcoholic waking up after a hangover, you begin questioning your life choices.

I should have just followed this group instead. Should have never gotten into K-pop. Should have just stayed home. Wasted all that time, effort, and money to be treated like shit. Could have made my money back if I just sold my ticket, maybe more in the secondary market. Some desperate fuck would have paid for it—

Four years of support. Of waiting. Of hoping. For nothing.

You flinch just remembering. It's in vivid detail: how they glossed over you, how their gazes flicked over and right past you, as if they had actual malicious intent. How they must have perceived you. Like they knew you were there, somehow, and actively chose to avoid you like you were carrying the plague. It doesn't make sense, because tonight never did. 

Your hands are trembling uncontrollably. You're unknowingly shedding tears that didn't escape the first time. The heart has finally understood, and is now telling you this: they hate you. They don't love you like that. Anger has taken grief's place.

So you crumple the bag. Crushing all its contents, but they don't break—not quite. The clothes are wrinkled. The packs are still mostly in place, hardly scratched, and the sign is partially bent, but mostly intact. 

God, you just want to smash it against the dumpster now out of sheer frustration.

Perhaps this is a sign of mercy. That one man's trash is, indeed, another man's treasure. Fine.

So you let your hand hover over the opened side of the bin. Let go.

But you're hesitating, unwilling to pull the trigger, even as your fingers loosen their grip. Letting go means you're done with this life for good. And you're not quite sure what will happen after that.

Suddenly, your breath hitches. Your brain registers something: a touch. Behind you. On your shoulder.

So you stop. 

Turning around slowly, you're expecting venue security ordering you to stop loitering. You'll say 'Just a moment, I'll leave shortly,' or some fan asking about your experience, probably flexing their interaction and pretending to commiserate when they just want to inflate their ego or something. No amount of excuses can hide the pained look on your face. And you'll quietly tolerate it, because you don't want to ruin your night any further by affecting others who are there for themselves too.

With a heavy sigh, you're glancing up from the ground, expecting the inevitable. Your lips are already moving, mumbling some made-up alibi: "Sorry, I was just—"

The words die just as suddenly as they come. It isn't security nor a random fan, none of that: it's much, much worse.

Six distinct figures are standing there, lined up in their usual position from left to right, several breaths away, under the same streetlamp as you. No barriers, no staff keeping you apart; just some K-pop idols fresh off a concert, wearing the same clothes from the same crime scene where they broke you.

Nothing about tonight makes any goddamn sense anymore. The image is difficult to comprehend, but you're staring wide-eyed: why on God's green earth is IVE outside at an empty parking lot. You saw them leave with your own two eyes. How they glossed over you at every single opportunity. How they would narrowly avoid making direct contact, as if you were declared persona non grata. And now, they're here. Actually looking at you. Without obstructions.

Yujin's a step closer compared to the others, but their eyes all share the same expression: concern, regret, apologetic. Her smile is there; not the stage-friendly, upbeat grin that makes her Popo, but a fraction: willfully restrained, delicate. She's twiddling her thumbs, casting her gaze down to the ground, trying to find the appropriate words to say. And when she does, it comes out just as small as her lips:

"Hi. We didn't mean to startle you."

It doesn't quite register; not at all. Seeing them is one thing, but hearing Yujin herself actually talking to you—after seemingly ghosting you the entire night, after you've tried so hard to get their attention, even just one member—is another.

"We didn't realize—" Rei starts. She's got her hands behind her back, also tilting her eyes down to the pavement, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Her usual energy is equally as dialed down as Yujin's smile, inhibited to something safer, more intimate. "We were waving goodbye, and then I turned to my left, and I saw someone crying. I thought I was just tired, or that it was tears of joy, but I saw you, crumpled at the barricade, and I knew something was wrong."

"Yes," Leeseo interjects. Her smile beams, but it lacks her usual energy, reading the room—or space, in this case. "I also saw you too. Or at least I thought I did. I didn't realize—we missed you."

"But by then, it was already late. Staff told us to keep moving, and we couldn't come back to you," Gaeul finishes. 

Their voices are quiet. Too quiet. The entire time you saw them, you'd watched them remain steady and persistent through exhaustion and one tiring choreography after another. Now, they feel—human.

Liz doesn't say a word; rather, she gently places both her hands close to heart, eyes closed, quietly shedding a tear, letting it fall down her cheek. And Wonyoung, being, well—Wonyoung—softly nods along in agreement, her hands folded together, keeping her gaze on you. 

As one unified group, they lean forward. And with one shared voice, they lower their heads.

"We're sorry."

Formally. Ninety degrees. Their hair fully blocking their faces. The kind reserved for when words aren't enough to atone for a grave mistake.

When they straighten up, Yujin's the one speaking on their behalf. "I know this seems like a lot to take in, but" —she pauses. Swallows her throat, closes her eyes for a flash before looking you in the eye again— "We see you now. We're here. And we are so, so sorry."

And to be quite honest, you don't know how to react. Because you've experienced more lifetimes within the last three hours compared to every other day you've been living on this earth until now. Tonight has thrust you into one roller coaster after another. It's a miracle you haven't thrown up yet, but you'd rather just get off the ride, actually. 

To say that all of this is hard to believe would be an understatement.

"No." The word comes out naturally, inaudible, like you don't want them to hear you now, after you already spent your vocal cords and your lungs screaming their names to high heaven. Instinctively, you're stepping back like a trapped animal, haunted by the ghosts you tried calling out to no avail. "This isn't" —you say, hoarse and worn, flinching and wincing in light pain as your shoulder bumps the closed lid of the dumpster you were ready to toss your life into— "You're not—"

"We are," Rei gently interjects. She takes a step forward, joining Yujin. The girls maintain a respectful distance, even as you stagger away. "This is real.We're real."

"No, no. You can't make me believe." You're smiling, but it's deranged. Laughing a little, too. Not because you're happy to see them, but rather the utter insanity of this situation and everything leading up to this moment. "This has to be some kind of joke."

You're scanning your surroundings now, waving your arms around like you've caught their scheme: hidden cameras, boom mics, skeleton production staff, expecting the rug pull that you're not actually talking to IVE at all. Or at least, the same idols you've seen on stage and on screen. "Alright, you got me guys. I enjoyed the prank, but you can stop now."

"It's really just us," Gaeul insists. She looks remorseful. The way she constantly assesses you,then flickers away when you meet her gaze halfway, uncomfortable watching you acting lost. Or she's sorry for herself. How they made you like this. You don't fucking know anymore. "No cameras. No staff. This is just—us."

"Sure," you snicker, and your reply comes out a little higher, a tinge more angry than intended. The idea is just ridiculous, even for your own delusions, and you explain it best: "because why would any K-pop group be looking for some random fan at 10 in the evening after finishing a concert when they should be flying out now. Is that right?"

Leeseo flinches slightly. Almost imperceptible, but you catch it because Wonyoung's right there to hold her while she's trembling. And through the seeming hurt and a shed tear, she manages to speak steadily: "We—we ran out. Our manager said no. They said we were in a hurry and needed to go. But we insisted otherwise. Just for you," she sniffles. "You were—"

"Shattered," Liz completes, facing her despondent member, sharing in her pain. "You looked really, really sad."

You don't bother denying. God, you weren't even trying to hide the fact you looked absolutely destroyed. It's one of the few times where being alone actually helped; every other fan was too busy celebrating their interactions to notice you falling apart, and they saw through that.

"But why? Why here? Why now?" You find your voice somehow, teetering between confusion and anger, and you're not holding back. It doesn't matter you're shouting at the very idols you loved so dearly; there's only pain, despair, and an innate urge to validate your feelings. "I was there. Soundcheck. The concert. The send-off. Three different opportunities where you could have seen me. Even just once. But you didn't. You—"

"We messed up. We know," Yujin interrupts, sounding smaller than before. It's genuine pain, taken from a place that feels sincere, like you directly took a shot to their heart. "But we did see you. You were front row, closest to the main stage. And at the corner during send-off. You were holding a sign. It—it's just—"

"—overwhelming," Rei completes her member's sentence as Yujin sputters. You've never seen her look this deflated, this—downtrodden. Same for the other members. "We try. There's so many of you, but we try our best to reach you all. We know how much you give to supporting us, and we do our best to give that love back. But sometimes" —her gaze flickers to the floor, to the girls, their hearts and minds moving as one— "people slip through the cracks. Sometimes we miss them, and believe me when I say: it pains all of us. Staff tells us to keep moving, and we try to stay and accommodate you all for as long as we can. It happens. But it doesn't mean we love them any less. It's just" —she sighs— "a hard lesson for us to do better next time."

Honesty stings. As painful as it sounds to hear, and even with the sincerity emanating from their tone, some part of you feels like this is rehearsed. Like they've had this situation happen before. Fanservicey bullshit to make everyone feel included, somehow, even when the evidence is right there. 

"But," Wonyoung starts, careful to make sure each word is chosen deliberately and carried by the wind. She's placed Leeseo in Liz's care and steps forward slowly, like approaching a wounded animal. Stopping inches from you, her mole's now visible, her hands a touch away. "it's never personal. I swear, we never meant to ignore you intentionally." 

You're shaking your head, firmly in denial. Only someone who willingly ignored you would make such a pathetic, lazy excuse.

"You don't have to believe what we say, nor do you have to forgive us," adds Gaeul. She's stepping forward too, sharing the same distance from you as Yujin and Rei. "But we just needed to come here and apologize. To you. Personally."

You can't stress this enough: nothing makes any fucking sense anymore.

"But—why me?" you argue. You're losing your mind, your brain going around in circles. "You had other fans. They probably got ignored too. Fans who actually deserve—"

"You were alone," says Yujin, and the world comes to a full stop. It's delivered quietly, just like every other word, but the impact is far more devastating. And the reason is right there, standing mere inches away from you: the very people that made you feel like you belonged somewhere, now outwardly expressing your inner feelings. "Everyone was with friends or family, or if they were crying, it was tears of joy. But you—"

She pauses. Releases a held breath that feels heavier than it should. And when she opens her mouth again, a tear happens to escape her eye. "You were walking like you had nowhere to go. Like you had nothing left."

So when you were contemplating what would happen next had you thrown everything in that dumpster, you really meant it. They were your everything, your purpose. They made you feel special without ever being aware of your existence. And when they looked past you like you were air, the foundation of your life was shaken to its very core. 

They saw you as nothing. Fuck, you were nothing. And that is more heartbreaking than any relationship.

The tears follow naturally. Again. Really, what else can you do other than fall apart. Of course you wanted them to see you—what fan wouldn't want their favorite idols to notice them—but not like this. You, at your lowest, shaking uncontrollably, drowning in your own guilt and shame, overwhelmed by so much. Meanwhile, they're standing there, apologizing for something that's not even their fault. 

This should have been a joyous moment, something you can happily tell your friends over and over and remember for a lifetime; now you just feel like shit for making them go out this far for something that, by all accounts, is an accident. They have better things to do and places to be, but no: they're right there, trying to mend a broken heart—your heart—and you feel all the worse for it. You're so caught up in your own grief that you don't realize that the bag containing their essence—the very bag you were intending to throw away—slips from your clasp, clattering to the ground. 

Liz takes a step forward. Suddenly stops. She's held back by Yujin and Gaeul, and she immediately understands. Leeseo doesn't; she rushes past everyone, ignoring the panicked shouts of the other members. Crouches down and picks up your bag off the pavement. Carefully brushing away the dust and gravel, she holds it delicately like a prized treasure, but her gaze snags on your lightstick, completely dimmed, and turns it back on. 

Leeseo waves it around with one hand, holding your bag on her free shoulder. She's copying the way you were cheering for them hours ago. The tears have mostly dried out. Only wet tracks remain in its wake, no more noise when you sniffle; just a deep, aching hollowness burying itself deep within your heart. And when you see them through tear-stricken eyes, they're a little too close for comfort, even though they're mostly looking after their youngest. A little too intrusive, like you're an ant being studied under their magnifying glass, and you're burning up.

"It's okay," she reassures you, holding it out for you to reach. "We're here. It'll be—"

"It's fine," you suggest, even though you damn well don't believe yourself. You're swiping your eyes with the back of your hand, brushing aside the last of your tears that have left you vulnerable. "I'm fine. I'm just—"

Laughter comes naturally. Not the hearty, whimsical kind, but the broken, forced type that you turn to whenever you need to cope with something painful. "You said it yourself. I was in the front row. Spent the last few years of my life supporting the only people I loved almost as much as my family. Spent so much of my time and money on you that my friends think I'm crazy" —you're shaking your head— "and I wouldn't care because you mean that much to me. You have no idea the countless nights I cried because you'd announce a show, or some event, or some new pop-up, we couldn't even have that—that you were something I thought was impossible. Until tonight.

You huff, shaking your head, looking unhinged because even talking feels like a gauntlet in and of itself: "All I wanted was just a glance. I didn't even want anything like a selfie or a heart anymore; I stopped trying the moment you wanted to ignore me. A sliver of eye contact" —you motion with your fingers— "that's all I wanted. And you couldn't even give me that. And now you're here, apologizing in front of the dumpster like that's gonna make everything better."

Almost immediately, every member's face cracks, and they bow their heads, instinctively, unable to look at you. They're hurt. Broken. Not because you hate them, but of the realization of just how much you've dedicated yourself to them, only to be treated like nothing, even if it was unintentional. They simply nod, accepting the harsh, scathing truth, because that's exactly what happened: they broke you.

"You're right," says Yujin, still kowtowing, almost muffling herself. "Nothing can make it better. Nothing we can do can change what happened. But we're so, so sorry."

The others bow in agreement with her, unanimous.

When you look up and see them like this: frail, fragile, hurt—something changes again. Maybe you went a little too far. Maybe you shouldn't have said that. At the end of the day, you're just a fan, and idols are still human. There's still boundaries, ones you've overstepped on. This feels like a violation.

You've exhausted your heart to the point where you can only feel empty. No more tears, no more anger. Just cold, unforgiving exhaustion.

"I'm sorry," you start again, letting out a sigh that feels forced out from the depths of your lungs. "I just—I don't know what to believe anymore, and—"

"We know," says Rei, quietly interjecting, slightly tilting her gaze up to meet you. When she talks, there's a bit of her sassy wit coming out: "And I know that tonight's been too much. Not just for you, but us too. Mostly you. I mean, where do we even start—"

Somehow, in the midst of all this tension, her little quip manages to make your lips quirk. Just a tad, but that's enough. That's Naoi Rei for you.

And the girls catch on. The space between you begins to soften to something lighter. 

Leeseo holds out the lightstick again, barely scratched, still glowing. You don't reach for it; don't bother trying. It feels like sacrilege to take it back after your attempt at severing that connection. It's theirs now rather than your own.

"I don't know what to make of all this," you remark, because no amount of logic can make heads or tails of what's happening right now. You should have left this all behind. They should have carried on with their lives. Instead, you're both here, in the middle of nowhere, trying to meet halfway. "I was ready to throw this all away. Forget this night ever happened. And then" —you're gesturing at all six members— "you happened."

"It's our fault," says Gaeul, now meeting your gaze once more. "We should have seen you then. Once we were leaving the send-off lounge, we felt something was wrong. And by the time we saw you, you were broken, and we couldn't come back."

"We're not asking you to forgive us," repeats Yujin, stepping forward, her hands folded together. "nor do we want you to pretend it's anything but our fault. We failed you, and we had to apologize. It's simple as that."

No matter how many times they insist, it never really sinks in. You always keep coming back around to blaming yourself.

"But—your schedules," you argue, unable to accept, not for lack of trying, "Don't you have a flight—"

"That can wait," Yujin answers, and for the first time in a while, there's conviction behind her voice. "There will be another flight. There's only one of you. What matters now is that we do this. We do at least one thing right. We make sure you" —she hesitates— "that you get what you wanted. What you deserve."

And to be quite honest, that'll do. Not because you fully believe them—not at all, actually—but rather you'll likely just go back and forth until one side inevitably concedes. You've already spent most of the day in battle: struggling behind long merch queues the length of your weekday rush hour, jostling for barricade like new sneaker drops, visualizing interactions that never happened, fighting inner demons—the list goes on and on.

"Okay," you breathe out, closing your eyes and letting out a deep breath. "Okay."

Leeseo steps forward, shimmies your bag off her shoulder and hands it back alongside your lightstick with a smile. "Please keep these. They belong to you. For next time."

As you take your items back, you can't help but mutter: "There almost wasn't," and it makes her frown.

"I'm sorry we made you feel this way," Leeseo says, reaching for your hand. You let her. Soft, gentle, delicate, like the kind, sweet girl she is on screen. "Just so you know that this is real. We're real. We're not—whatever monsters you think we are."

"I don't think you're monsters," you reply. "I just felt hurt."

"And that makes us monsters," she insists, her eyes twinkling with welled up tears as you stare back. "What kind of idols would ignore one of their innocent fans? Monsters, am I right?"

"Seo—"

"Just let her apologize," Wonyoung gently chimes in, smiling slightly, her head slightly dipped, now holding Leeseo's hand. "The point stands. You tried to get our attention, we looked past you, and you were hurt, so we had to apologize. No need to complicate it any further."

"You don't have to accept our apology," Liz repeats, driving home that point over and over, and she's right behind Leeseo now. "If you wanted to hate us, then that's fair. Your hatred of us is completely justified. But at least we were able to say sorry, and you listened. That's all we can ask from you."

As she finishes speaking, the arena in the distance goes nearly dark. Only a few lights remain, particularly the big white letters spelling out the arena's name. Most of the crowd have dispersed; all that's left is a mostly desolate parking lot and presumably a team of managers and staff searching for their untouchable assets. 

And speaking of—

"You should go," you tell them, ready to say goodbye, expecting the inevitable rug pull any moment now. "I appreciate that you did this and all, but—"

"We promised ourselves that we'd find you and do it right. They can wait. You can't," says Yujin, and she's looking at the others, and they're all in complete agreement. She's smiling gently when she adds, "We can't change what happened back there, but we can make it up for you. If you want."

The spark that died in that venue flickers back to life. Your brows rise. You're hoping once again. Reckless, youthful hope. But there's always that underlying feeling, a lurch in your heart that's afraid there's something waiting around the corner ready to break it again. 

"Are you sure?" you ask, hesitant, but secretly hoping again, just a little. "I—I don't wanna—"

"None of it—none of this—is your fault," Gaeul interrupts, gesturing around the small circle under the lamp post including you, firm but gentle. "Don't blame yourself for our mistakes." 

"We'll be here," Liz assures you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "As long as you need us. We wanna do this right. If you want us to."

Wonyoung and Leeseo nod their heads in near-perfect harmony.

"And besides, there are better places we can talk in. Other than—I don't know, in front of a dumpster," Rei quips, and it elicits a wave of little, but hearty smiles from the members. "I mean, it is a nice looking dumpster, to be fair."

You can't help but chuckle. Realizing she's broken through, Rei pokes your cheek. "There he is. That's our fan."

Yujin turns her gaze from Rei back to you. "So?"

This should be the easiest 'yes' of your life. They're offering themselves to you on a silver platter; even the most insane person would call you mad to turn down this generational opportunity. But you consider it: the 0.001% that feels like someone running up the score to ruin you so there's some kind of opposition. The trauma is real, still fresh in your mind. You've been through so much from just the last three hours alone. Trust, once broken, is difficult to rebuild. 

And you're thinking as you nod, the most subtle of motions that it almost appears imperceptible, that you might regret this. But you're already moving with them.

"Okay. Let's go somewhere."

No one claps. No one cheers. Even their breaths remain held, like they're walking on holy ground. They just quietly smile with a calm, careful acceptance as they step into formation beside you, away from the dim light of the parking lot and into the complete unknown.

—————

The cafe is closed. 

Of course it is. Tonight is just too good to be true after all.

It's only 10:27 in the evening and yet the whole place—and street for that matter—has already shut down. Your suggestion, a coffee shop across the venue, where you celebrated a fandom cupsleeve event marking the group's arrival in the country hours before the concert, now is just—dead. The commemorative decor is gone; only darkness and chairs stacked upside-down on top of tables and a closed sign hanging behind the entrance door like a middle finger to hope.

Leeseo's sticking her face against the glass like someone's gonna entertain them (nobody's home), while Liz entertains her. "Maybe if we knock on the windows hard enough, someone will open—" 

"I don't know, Seo. The sign says it's closed—"

Meanwhile, the rest—you and the four others you never thought you'd be walking together with—can only smile. But it's wistful, a fleeting moment of levity before reality sets in again.

"We can try somewhere else," Yujin suggests, turning to face you, sounding like it's her fault the café you offered to take to isn't open right now. "There's a nice Chinese restaurant we had dinner in last night—"

"No, no. It's okay," you answer quietly, the words coming out faster than you thought. Shaking your head, regretting the decision to follow them, questioning why you're even here. Why are they still here. "Think all the stores are closed—"

"Look. Over there." Gaeul breaks the conversation, her gaze directed at a park just across the street. You've been walking for a few blocks, trying to find the few stores that are still open at this ungodly hour, except there's hardly anything left that feels appropriate for the people you're with. Mostly cheap eateries and 24 hour convenience stores. Even worse, the venue is no longer in sight, and you're 100 percent certain the managers are losing their mind, and this is your doing. 

"Quiet, fresh air, plenty of trees and benches to keep us tucked away. Perfect," Rei comments, and she's already moving before any of you can consider other options. The rest follow suit, with Liz yanking Leeseo away from the café windows, and your words of protest die when Yujin gently pushes you along with them.

These last few stretches have been awkward. Quiet. Mostly the girls conversing among themselves in hushed whispers while you're out here being the worst navigator ever. Whenever you check on them, they're just smiling at you, nodding, but their eyes tell you otherwise—something about guilt and regret. Yet they never look as hollow as they were on screen or even during the concert. You wonder what they could possibly be talking about: something about how you've only been crying every five minutes, that they just gotta endure at least a few more minutes before they can finally leave, that they're only doing this because they're idols and they don't want any bad PR—

"This looks nice," says Rei, and you all stop in the middle of a stretch of park road with two benches positioned beside each other, shadowed by an imposing tree, whose leaves gently rustle with the nighttime wind. It's wedged near the main center, you think, the one with a fountain and a statue, but nestled away from the outside world.

They take their seats in the same position they're always in: Rei and Liz around the corners of the benches, Gaeul and Leeseo beside them, respectively, and Wonyoung and Yujin at the center—usually.

Only now there's a conveniently empty slot between Wonyoung and Yujin. A you shaped void. Right in the middle.

Yujin pats her hand down on the unoccupied space. "C'mon. Sit."

It's supposed to be gentle, given how soft she sounds, but with six pairs of eyes staring at you, it feels more of a command. But you follow anyway. You've never felt this self-conscious, this aware of your surroundings and actions. How every little motion feels heavy and weighed with so much at stake. Every little twist, every little muscle—even the way you breathe feels like it's being judged. Even if they're friendly looking.

"Wait," Leeseo suddenly rises from her spot, like an idea came to her. "Ice cream. Let me go get us some ice cream."

"Hold on—" Yujin protests, but Leeseo's already ran off with a hand raised.

"I'll be right back!" she yells out before disappearing from view.

Your stare lingers a minute or so longer than you initially wanted. At the bushes in the distance, at the path she took to run out. All around you, gentle winds sweep away the leaves, brush against the walls, making a light clanging sound. The world here is quiet, peaceful—the type that lends itself to self-reflection. And compared to the tight, suffocating crowds of the concert venue, you feel like you can breathe.

"She's been wanting ice cream the whole day," Rei casually remarks, facing you and reaching out to grab your shoulder. Her smile is warm and fond: not her trademark bubbly grin, not quite, but something a bit more restrained. 

To your right, Wonyoung's kicking her legs while staring up at the night sky. The stars have come out tonight, and you're not referring to the idols surrounding you. One in particular shines brighter than the rest, drawing her complete attention. Liz finds a flower beneath her bench and plucks it, smelling and holding it like something precious. Yujin loops an arm around your shoulder, brushing strands of your hair with her free hand. Gaeul closes her eyes, posture upright, hands elegantly kept together, just soaking in the quiet atmosphere. Rei tries to make a silly joke, but you can only smile while she laughs at herself.

No one says a word. They let you stay quiet. You become something they look after: assessing, constantly checking every quirk of your lip, every twitch of your eyes, constantly assuring you that their time is yours, that this is your moment. 

In all your time following them, you've known them only as idols. Performers. Role models. People who could do no wrong. Yet here they are, appreciating all the little things, like they've been given permission to stop and smell the sights, even if only for a few precious minutes.

Everything about tonight—from the show, to the dumpster, now this—leaves your head spinning. Not even your dreams were this—vivid.

"You alright?" Yujin asks, and you don't wanna tell them how you feel. Even if its valid.

"I don't know," you ultimately admit, looking down, feeling everything about you is tacky and shameful in their presence. "This—all feels like a dream. Or a hallucination. And if it is, I don't wanna snap out of it. I don't wanna wake up. Not now. Maybe never."

"But this is real," Liz replies, cupping your face. "You just have to believe."

No matter what they say, you just can't. There's always that sinking feeling, the inevitability in the back of your mind: maybe you're just tired and imagining all this, or they'll disintegrate into dust, or maybe the staff will finally come and force them away. Any second now, you'd be taken back to reality and life moves on as normal—

"I'm back!" Leeseo shouts as she returns with a plastic bag flailing on her wrist. She's taking her sweet time, cheeks flushed pink, walking instead of rushing when she initially left. "They had exactly six flavors, so one of you has to share." Her gaze tilts over to you. "You don't mind, right?"

You nod, accepting without resistance.

One by one, she pulls out different colored packaged ice cream bars for each member, handing them left to right: strawberry for Rei, chocolate for Gaeul, pistachio for Yujin, mint chocolate for Wonyoung, vanilla for Liz, and finally, coffee for herself. 

She saves you for last, seated tensely in the center. It's chocolate, the same flavor as Gaeul. 

"I didn't know what your favorite flavor was, but everyone likes chocolate," she says with that sweet smile, pressing it into your hand, and you just can't deny her at all, even with guilt wracking your brain. 

You unwrap the bar from its packaging, but you don't eat. Even when your stomach groans in protest, you just let it slowly trickle on your fingers and drip on the floor. Holding it feels like it's weighed with a lifetime of burdens. And it's not that you don't hate chocolate (for reference, your favorite is actually mango), but more just the absurdity of this whole damn thing. 

IVE did their part: perform for two or so hours, two and a half if you count soundcheck. Finally, send-off that's at least 10 minutes long. Then they have the audacity to break whatever idol protocol and schedule they have just to chase you down, apologize, walk with you, and now even share ice cream in the middle of an empty park after a concert when it's almost midnight. You can never ask for anything ever again. 

Someone's getting fired, you're completely certain. Fuck it, half the staff is getting sacked when they return to Korea. And knowing you're responsible for that makes you feel all the worse. They didn't have to go that far to find just one fan out of thousands, but also, this is far beyond your wildest dreams. Both sides can be true.

"Something wrong?" Yujin snaps you from your daze, and you instinctively look the other way before turning to her. The others have finished their ice cream bars, mostly, (Wonyoung's still halfway through hers) and yours is the only one that's completely untouched. "Come on. You must be hungry after all that waiting and cheering."

Leeseo frowns. "Don't like chocolate?" she asks, like you're judging her for the poor choice of flavor. 

With just one single, concerned glance, you concede. You take your first bite, let the lukewarmness of the treat rest between your teeth, and for the first time in a while, maybe, just maybe, things might not be bad after all.

"Good?" Leeseo asks now, leaning her head forward, her smiling gradually returning as you gobble through the snack. "Mom told me ice cream always makes you feel better."

You give her a nod and a little smile, one that feels reminiscent of a ray of light peeking in the midst of a cloudy day. 

She's elated. Her idea worked. But she's not celebrating, not quite. You're getting somewhere, and that's what matters.

"It's so pretty," Wonyoung suddenly remarks, and everyone turns their attention to her. She's transfixed on the stars above still, watching the same one in the sky shining brighter than the rest. "So lovely. Haven't seen them out in so long."

"But it's always there," you casually remark.

"I know. We don't ever see them much these days, but it's a nice reminder that they are always there for us, even if we aren't."

Your mouth twists, understanding but tired to get the full context. They hardly ever see the night sky given their schedules and commitments. They don't have room to breathe. Giving them room like this—to slow down, to pause—is something rare to them.

Leeseo takes back the wrappers and popsicles into the plastic bag, not asking permission. Doesn't need to. 

No one speaks. Neither do you. You soak in the gentle breeze, the slow passage of time, the way the world stops spinning and just—breathe. For a moment, you're all alone again. Reduced to your own thoughts with nothing except what's in your head, but it feels clearer now. Your chest feels lighter. Everything's gonna be fine. 

Then you feel the nudge on your shoulder and the echo of someone's throat clearing.

"Look," Yujin starts, and the others straightens up imperceptibly, turning their attention on you. "We should apologize. Properly. For what happened."

Really, they shouldn't. It's an accident, it happens. They've done their part as performers. Meanwhile, you have nothing. You're not entitled to anything from them.

So you vocalize it. "You don't have to—"

"We know," Rei interrupts. "We know we don't have to. But we want to. Need to."

And you just concede because you'll listen anyway. Or they'll never stop insisting. Both.

Gaeul nods in agreement. "Something was up when we left. It felt" —she furrows her brows— "off. It felt like we were missing something. Or in this case, someone. We didn't realize that was you until we finally looked around."

"But it was too late," Liz adds, wiping a stray tear from her eye. "We were already being ushered off, and we couldn't argue with the staff. We couldn't just—turn back. So we have no one to blame but ourselves."

Leeseo squints her eyes. Her gaze shifts to something deeper, more alert, the kind that looks mature and foreign for someone of her age. "I was thinking about the people in the front, at the barricade. I thought I reached everyone. Gave them a heart, a hi-five, anything to make sure I saw them. And I did see you, near the corner, but" —she pinches the bridge of nose with her fingers, trying to think of—an excuse maybe— "I just didn't. I never tried. And I'm sorry."

"Me too," Wonyoung says, inching herself a little closer to you on the bench. "I saw your sign. Flashes of it, but not the whole thing. And staff were pressuring us to move quicker, so we did. We were so focused on staying on track that we forgot about you. I shouldn't have. It's my fault."

"It's on all of us," Rei corrects, reaching over to place a hand on your knee. "We ignored you. Doesn't matter if it was intentional or not, you were hurt because of us. You didn't do anything wrong; actually, you did everything right. We simply just—messed up and forgot about you."

Every apology feels like another stake driven to your heart. A reminder of the cruel reality that even trying your best simply isn't enough. 

"You don't have to," you insist again, shaking your head lightly, looking like you're the one committing the crime by making them share this openly. "I'm just one fan. Out of hundreds. Thousands. I know you can't see everyone. It happens. But—"

"But what?" Gaeul asks, gentle and disarming, and you feel all the more shameful, like you're being interrogated, no matter how delicate they sound.

You sigh. Rei's hand lingers on your knee as you stare down on the park pavement. Your bag containing tonight's memories is still there between your legs. You just wanna curl up and hide away from the world. From them. Let all this pain and despair bubble within. No one cares. They don't have to know everything. Your feelings are mostly invalid.

"We won't judge," Yujin says. "Promise. You can tell us how you feel, and we'll understand."

The six pairs of concerned eyes don't help convincing you in the slightest. But you admit anyway, because you might as well bring it all to God:

"I just wanted you to see me." Every word sounds like a confession to a priest who's probably gonna condemn you to hell for committing the sin rather than forgiving and acknowledging your fault. "I wanted some kind of recognition. A sign that I mattered to you. That I belonged. Because you—your music—mattered to me. More than anything else."

They let it sink in for a moment, their eyes dawning with new understanding. Then Wonyoung holds out her hands, palms wide open.

"Can we see it?" she asks. "The sign you made for us? What else did you bring?"

Your cheeks burn, but you let out a laugh that's more pained than eager. "It's nothing. I saw what the other fans made. Mine is just—slop compared to what they brought. You don't have to. It's not as meaningful as you think it is. Probably ruined cause I crumpled it anyway, too."

"Don't be like that," she replies, correcting but kind. "Please. We want to see it."

You hesitate, because Lord knows it's true you made your sign with middle school arts and crafts, barely held together by glitter, MINIVE stickers, and prayers. But it's out of the bag anyway and you hand it over alongside a wrinkled letter folded in half, one you never bothered to pull out once as they were seemingly barred from accepting any letters during the send-off.

Wonyoung smoothens out the creases around the letter's edges as the members lean over each other's shoulders to read closely. The sign itself is very simple by design: You Make My Universe Spin written in big text while almost every space is covered in something, whether stickers from their merch or glitter or other colorful things, but they focus on the letter more. You watch the way their brows furrow, how their lips read each word several times over (occasionally audible), examining every little detail meticulously. 

"Thank you," she finally faces you, sounding so saccharine and smiling so sweet it's melting your brain. "You really made all this for us? It's beautiful. Really."

"No—no it isn't." You're deprecating yourself, trying to play off your efforts as nothing but a sham. "It's nothing special," you insinuate, trying to take back the sign and letter but she holds them away from you. "You probably read letters and signs that are more—meaningful than mine."

"But this is your letter, right? Your sign?" Gaeul chimes in, pulling on your arm gently to draw your gaze. "You made it, which it makes quintessentially yours. No one has that. Only you. And that makes it special."

"You don't understand," you're still arguing, because you feel it isn't enough. That what you can do will never be enough. "Everyone else had elaborate setups, funny jokes, stuff that actually made you happy or laugh. Mine's just shit—"

"No." Yujin's denial is firm and stops you clean in your tracks, but her stare is warm. "Stop downplaying yourself. It's amazing. The fact you went out of your way to make these says a lot. We see the effort. You’re amazing."

"Yes," Leeseo adds, her hand now intertwined with yours. "We keep these in our dorm. Sometimes we read them whenever we're tired or when we feel like we're lacking. And then we remind ourselves that you exist," she says, pertaining to the fandom at large, one they believe you have a place in, "and it gives us motivation to keep pushing. Because of you."

You were already crying halfway through Yujin's response. There's no point trying to fight the tears now. So they come gushing down, and everything—the last five years—along with it. Wipe them away with your hand, they still keep coming.

"I'm sorry," you sob out, "I'm so, so sorry. You didn't—you didn't have to do this. You deserve so much better than to talk to a crying fan because he thought he was entitled. You should be on that plane by now. You have other schedules, and instead of resting, I'm just wasting your time—"

"Stop."

The voice isn't quite clear; you're too caught up in your own spiraling feelings to stop, and you're still crying a river, hiding your face to notice who—

But then you feel them pulling your arms away from your face and into a hug. Yujin. Through tear-stricken eyes, it's her who's calling to you.

"Please stop. None of that is true. None of what you said is true."

You're crying into her shoulder now, into the fabric of her shirt. She loosens you from her ironclad grip, leaving just enough to grant you space should you want to fully pull back. 

And you do pull away, but not completely; you willingly remain enveloped in her embrace, but there's more distance now, to the point where your gazes are meeting halfway. Yours, lachrymose and inconsolable, while hers is tender and warm.

"Please. Stop apologizing for nothing," she says gently, driving the point home that this isn't your fault, and you still don't quite believe it. You're shaking your head in denial out of instinct. "Us ignoring you—that's on us. Not on you. Never you."

"But—"

"Stop. Please stop." Yujin cuts in sharply again, but there's no malice behind it. Her hands are resting on your shoulders now, lightly shaking you from your spiral, her smile a calming reassurance. "You're not thinking straight. Take a moment. Breathe." 

Once isn't enough; even they know. Each inhale and exhale is a shudder that shudders deep through your bones. She smiles, asks if you feel any better, and you're better off saying nothing than admitting it hasn't helped in the slightest. They understand anyway.

"Just listen to us, okay? Please let us talk to you."

Almost indiscernibly, you nod. And she does too.

"Listen to me. We're gonna say this once, and I want you to hear every word we say."

A pause. To let you breathe. To let you prepare. Then she continues talking.

"You have nothing to apologize for, okay? Nothing. You went to our concert, brought a sign for us to see, a letter you wanted us to read, and who knows what else. You were expectant, like everyone else in that room," she says, pertaining to the send-off lounge, to all the people in the VIP section. "But you didn't get anything, and you were upset. That's normal. That's human."

You're already protesting, mouth half opened, but Yujin raises a finger, so you stop again.

"What happened back there—was our fault. Full stop," she continues. She lets out a sigh, followed by a shaky breath. "Our responsibility as idols is to make you feel seen. To make you feel like you belong. And we failed on that end. We failed you."

The other girls quietly affirm her. Meanwhile, you still have a million reasons as to why you don't deserve this much care and forgiveness.

"I—I still made you come out here," you insist, sniffling, wiping the tracks of tears down your face. "when you should be resting. I made you leave your van. Made you run out without staff in public. Delayed your schedules because I couldn't handle being ignored—"

"Which was our choice," Gaeul chimes in, pulling your hand away from your teary eye. "We knew we hurt you, and regardless of what staff wanted to tell us, we had to make it right."

"But that makes me entitled, does it not?" you argue now, and it sounds so feeble that you're surprised they haven't left you out of sheer annoyance. "I'm no better than a sasaeng or a stalker. I felt entitled to an interaction because I paid for it. Or that I deserved it for showing up. Because I wanted to feel validated."

They don't answer. Not immediately. Then it's Wonyoung's turn to speak up. She redirects your gaze toward hers.

"No you're not. You're not a stalker or a sasaeng or any of those things. Because you aren't following us to our schedules, or harassing us in our free time, or making demands, or shouting in our faces. In fact, we don't even know you. But you wanted the same experience as everyone else; we simply didn't deliver on our end. And again, that's entirely on us. You did everything right. We wanted to make it up to you, that's why we're here."

"But I am entitled," you insist, fighting an impossible battle just to prove you don't deserve this, somehow. Like you're irredeemable, irreparable. "When I saw the other fans around me getting your interactions and I got nothing, I grew angry. At you. And at them. I believed I deserved it too. I've supported you longer and harder. Since debut. Never missed a comeback. But seeing them rewarded and not me left me so bitter that I almost gave up on you. After supporting you for long, I was ready to drop you on a whim. Because I was entitled."

You see the gradual shift in Wonyoung's expression from sweet to something serious. Here you are, telling the truth straight from your heart, and by the way she assesses your features, it seems like a self-indictment more than a genuine confession, evidence enough to condemn you for good. But her hands find yours, and she holds them softly, as if to cushion you from what she's about to say.

"You're right," she starts, and even though you were waiting for the validation you've been desperately seeking, your chest lurches. Like you're being judged, and the punishment is eternal damnation. She hasn't said anything else, but it already hurts. "That's—not a good thought to have. But—as Yujin said, it's normal. It's normal to feel disappointed, frustrated even, when you give your heart to something you love and get nothing in return. That doesn't make you a bad person; it just means you're human, that's all. And sometimes, the best thing you can do is let those feelings wash over you."

You let out a heavy sigh. You're averting your gaze away from Wonyoung and to the ground, newly ashamed again for having such feelings. "It doesn't change the fact that I ruined my whole night because of it," you mutter, still trying to play victim. "I should have just been content to watch you perform. That's what concerts are for: to enjoy your music, your performances. If I wanted a proper moment with you, I could have just gone to a fansign or did a fancall. I became so obsessed with what I was missing that I never saw everything you were giving me on stage tonight."

Wonyoung lightly shakes her head, and she refuses to let go of your hand, even if you try to pull it away or brush her off. "That's also true," she affirms, and it feels like another shot to an already bleeding heart, another clean cut. "You're right that you should have focused on our performance. That being jealous isn't a good mindset to have. But you're already more aware than most others in your place, so that's something you can work on the next time you see us. And there will be one. Trust me."

God, you might as well be thrown the full book. Death sentence. Lifetime imprisonment without parole. Permanent ban—you name it. Not even the assurance of a probable next time makes you feel any better.

They see the frown on your lips. How you winced at Wonyoung's remark. Every word, no matter how brutally honest, has been spoken in the kindest, sincerest tone possible, and that's probably why it hits harder: it feels like a stern talking from your disappointed mother or parent figure, even though you're not that far off in age.

She's not finished yet. Her hands are still intertwined with yours. "Hey. Look at me."

You try; it feels like staring into an angel far beyond comprehension for your frail eyes. So you just—don't. You don't deserve her. You don't deserve IVE.

But she tilts your face back to her gently, however letting you look anywhere you please, just as long as she's in your sight. "It doesn't matter, you know. Even if I didn't call you out, or if you had focused entirely on our performances. At the end of the day, we still didn't see you. We should have seen you. We should have given you just as much love as everyone else, and we couldn't deliver on that. That's something we take pride in as idols—to make you feel like you belong and loved—and we can't even do that for one fan. And you're right to feel hurt because we did that. You have every right to feel betrayed. You have every right to hate us."

"We're not saying it because to make you feel better, or to make excuses," Rei adds. "We're telling you this because your feelings matter. You matter. And regardless of what you've told us, you're still a fan. We saw how much you cared, how you gave your heart freely to us, and we couldn't give it the love it rightfully deserved. And for that, we are so sorry."

Again, the tears just keep coming, even when you think you've completely run yourself dry. You were already in the process of breaking down as Wonyoung was talking about how they should have seen you, and even when they themselves admitted they were responsible for their own fuck up, you still feel like it's your burden for putting them in this position in the first place. It's a selfish thing to keep idols hostage, whether willingly or unwillingly.

"I don't deserve this—" you mutter out, freely crying as you don't realize the members closing in to wrap you in their collective warmth. Leeseo softly presses a handkerchief on your nose. Yujin loops an arm on your shoulder again. Wonyoung keeps your hands steady. Liz wraps an arm on your other shoulder. Rei straight up hugs you, with Gaeul and Yujin as fluffy collateral. And Gaeul presses her head against the shoulder where Liz's arm rests. "I—was almost ready to hate you. I almost threw everything away because of tonight. I—"

"We know," Wonyoung chimes in, softly shaking her head. "You have every right to hate us. Even after tonight."

"Your feelings are perfectly valid," Yujin adds. "Hate us. Be upset. Curse us if you want. Lash out at us if you have to. We deserve it. We deserve everything coming our way after what we did to you."

At the end of the day, this is simply not the kind of person you are. Chalk it up to fear or cowardice, you can't be angry forever.

"I can't," you manage between sobs, crying on your shirt because you're suddenly self-conscious and staining their clothes with your tears feels like a cardinal sin. "I can never really hate you, even if I wanted to. Not when you've been my light for so long. That's all what I really wanted: to get close you, my light, and then it hated me back. And even when I was so close to giving up, I remembered how your songs and personalities kept me going. You were there when I felt like there was nothing to look forward to anymore. I was so close to" —you hesitate, but you've already poured out your heart— "ending things, but you made me feel like I can live another day. I just wanted to thank you for all that. That opportunity never came. But I can never hate you after everything you've done for me."

They've been gentle with you the entire time, steady and composed through every moment you've fallen apart. But now, with your admission, they finally open up too. Small, gentle tears, but they're sobbing nonetheless. The dam has finally burst. 

You're drowning deep in your sorrows to notice how tightly they wrap you. Holding you like they're crushing the very embodiment of sadness running through your body. At some point, you cry into Yujin's shirt instead of yours, but she doesn't mind in the slightest. Nobody does. Your tears do all the talking. They just cuddle up close, keeping you warm, letting you pour all that pent-up emotion out. No one tracks how long it takes; even when the droplets are just tracks, the sobs are sniffles, and your anguish is nothing but background music to the city still awake this late in the night, they stay.

And when you finally come to your senses and they find your eyes red from excessive crying, Wonyoung gently wipes it clean with the handkerchief Leeseo offered. The trembling gradually stops; your breath stabilizes, and your chest feels lighter, somehow.

The girls let you gather yourself for a moment. Gentle rubs of your head, your arm, little reassuring smiles. They don't push, don't force it, just let you process everything at your own pace. It's still not enough, not really. You're gonna look back on this 10, 20, even 50 years from now, when they feel like a relic lost to time and feel the same level of awe and disbelief you had when it happened, and everyone's gonna think you're sharing some silly story that sounds like a telltale sign for Alzheimer's, but you've seen it with your own two eyes: they were right there. With you.

"Better?" Yujin gently asks, and it sounds like you're being asked about the meaning of life.

"Kind of," you answer, and it's only half-true: you're certainly in a better place now compared to an hour ago, but these things just don't die within days, let alone overnight. When you return to normal life, it'll be as if you've stepped into a whole new dimension, where everything is mostly the same, except you aren't. 

"That's better than nothing," she says, caressing your cheek. "We'll take it."

Their nerves refuse to relax still. Always careful around the edges, tiptoeing on the delicate, fragile core of your heart, ready to catch you when you fall. 

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," you mutter, shaking your head. "I wish we met in a better place, you know. Like at a fansign or maybe you saw me during the concert and I made you laugh or smile or something similar. Not you having to comfort me in a park letting me cry on your shoulder for God knows how long—"

Gaeul pulls you in for a loose hug, brushing your head and temple. "We're here now, that's what matters. We chose to be here. It's never your fault, remember? You didn't do anything but be present like everyone else and be honest, and what you've shown us says a lot about the kind of person you are."

"But I don't deserve" —you argue, sniffling— "I don't deserve this—I was ready to throw you away—"

"You absolutely do," Liz cuts in, her voice cracking slightly at the last word, holding your hand now. "You could have said no. At the parking lot. When we offered our apologies, when we asked if you wanted to walk with us" —she stifles a sob too— "you could have said no. You could have thrown our merch, yelled at us, told us to go away, posted a hit piece online about how we hate our fans. But you didn't. You gave us a second chance."

"That's true," Leeseo adds, pressing the handkerchief on your nose. "You walked with us. Let us share ice cream with you. And you were honest about everything, including your own feelings. That's grace."

"I don't feel gracious," you insist now, because you're still looking for an excuse to feel like you don't deserve this love being freely gifted to you. "I feel pathetic. I mean, I'm a grown man crying over K-pop idols because they didn't notice me. Do you know how stupid that sounds?"

Yujin simply smiles wider. "That sounds like someone who cares so passionately about the people he loves. And there's nothing wrong with that."

"Right," Rei says. "I'd be concerned if you just liked us cause we were only eye candy for you. Or that you only like us because you want to use our achievements or our talent to put down other groups."

"That has nothing to do with him," Gaeul interjects. "Read the room."

"I'm just saying!" she lightly fires back, shrugging and causing you to chuckle a little. 

The others immediately catch on. "There," Wonyoung points out your tiny, fragile grin. "We were looking for you. That smile. It looks natural on you."

You immediately look away, cheeks flushed a fresh pink. "I can't," you laugh, small and awkward, "I still think I don't deserve this—"

"Stop." Yujin tries to be straightforward. "You deserve—"

"I just can't," you maintain, because you're tired of being silent. "There's more deserving people who should be here instead of me. Prettier, richer, more" —the word dies as you struggle to find the missing piece— "stable—"

"And?" Wonyoung raises her brow, perplexed by your argument, like the very concept is ludicrous and brain-dead. "None of that matters to us. You're our Dive. That's more than enough."

"We take care of all our Dives," Yujin says, one hand on your shoulder and the other constantly tracing your hair and your cheek. "Whether you're a debut fan or just starting since yesterday, whether you spent thousands on us or you only stream our music, and whether you've seen us already or this is your first time. You're all the same in our eyes. All equally deserving of our full love and attention."

"But you especially," Wonyoung finishes. "Because you were hurting and we hurt you."

Even if they actively probed your brain and rewired it so that you believe them with a 100% certainty, you just can't. It's the kind of doubt that religion spits out and negatively affects the people around you.

So you go back to those old ways, those old beliefs. "I don't know how to believe you," and you're crying again, because your heart is made of nothing but unshed tears and utter depression: "I can't—I don't think I—"

"Then let us be the ones who decide." Yujin pulls you flush for another hug, and the others join in too. She looks at each and every single member, one by one, and they nod. Tender and sincere that it finally, finally feels like validation. "And we've decided you deserve this. You deserve so much for giving your heart to us."

"I—I'm not—I don't—"

"Shhh." She insists, so gentle and utterly disarming that whatever fight left in your spirit finally concedes. "Let us take care of you. Just for a little while."

Little by little, the girls rebuild your heart. Not with bricks and mortar, but with warmth and tenderness. Arms loop and enclose around you. Whispered praises in your ear that sound like comfort. For the first time, it feels like you're finally home.

Eventually, the shaky breaths completely fade. All the tears have been shed for a while now. And even the hollowness doesn't feel as bottomless as it used to. It's all because of them: their gentle hearts, their small reassurances, their sincere little gestures. Tonight didn't give you what you wanted; it provided exactly what you needed.

But time stops for no one. They gently disentangle themselves and sit up on the bench, but their gazes never depart. It's been quiet. A little too quiet. One glance and they see you: eyes puffy, still sniffling just a tad, but normal. Mostly normal. Like the very clinical definition of fine.

"So," Rei starts, reaching for the phone in her purse. "we should take some pictures."

"Huh?" you blurt out instinctively, tilting your head in the opposite direction, forgetting where she'd been seated.

"Duh. Selfies," she repeats, lightly mocking like you were supposed to know the memo. She's already held her phone up, perfect angles and all, with the other members already engaged in idol mode. "We didn't have any during the send-off, obviously?"

Rei doesn't wait for you to get ready. She snaps the first shot: six perfect stars encircling an unaddressed elephant in the center of the frame. The girls unanimously approve of it; you don't. You look out of place. Like you're the one that's AI-generated in the photo.

"I'm keeping this," she remarks, mischievously smiling as she returns the phone back into her bag. "Now you. Your phone," she asks, holding out a hand waiting for you to give it to her. Less of a request and more a demand.

You scramble to fish it out of your pocket. The screen lights up, and so do their faces when they see themselves as your lockscreen wallpaper. Liz's mouth makes a silent 'aww,' while Wonyoung tightly holds your hand with both of hers. More importantly, the battery is down to 12%. They're flattered, but all you can think about is just how everything is designed to humiliate you, even though they don't try to bring attention to it.

"Don't worry, this will be quick." Rei's angling your phone now, creating magic from a cramped park bench and under washed out streetlamps. You're still tucked in the center with the others surrounding you closely, making you the focus. 

It starts out simple; a group photo together, nothing fancy, at least not yet. You have your hands folded together, eyes still red from all your tears, your smile semi-present but not quite. Meanwhile, they treat it as if it were another magazine shoot: effortless, natural, like muscle memory. Yujin lets her arm loop around your shoulder like it's her favorite place. Wonyoung leans her head close against yours. Gaeul's smile is small but sincere. Liz makes a peace sign, and Leeseo, over your shoulder, nudges you on the back, whispering for you to grin a little bit wider. 

You feel overwhelmed existing, let alone breathing in their space, but the end result is a shot that's both vibrant and timeless. 

"Perfect," Rei remarks, pointing you out in the frame with her finger. You did, in fact, smile a bit wider. "You mind if I air drop this on our phones? As a memento. If you want—"

"Y-sure," you say, turning to her suddenly, because you can't imagine being in any of their galleries, but she's already sharing it with the other members even before you've agreed (and you would have). "But why would—"

"We want to remember this." Rei answers immediately, already shifting your phone in a new angle. The others prepare for the next shot, nudging you into position, lifting eyebrows, telling you to loosen some more or go at your own pace. "We want this to be a reminder for ourselves to see thoroughly next time. That every person, every corner in the crowd matters."

"And also because we made a new friend," Leeseo adds, and your heart melts.

They fill your camera roll with every shot imaginable: group pics, quirky and cool poses, individual photos—ones with you and a member by your side—solo and paired selfies, so much so that it feels like half of today's camera roll comprises more of their pictures here than the concert itself. Every shot makes your phone feel more and more sacred. It doesn't matter that they're essentially framemogging you into oblivion, still teary-eyed and vulnerable while they're goddesses incarnate; you'll take it, keep them for yourself because every photo is a cherished memory for life.

"Alright. Everyone gather up." Yujin's signaling to the others to hover close again, another group shot it looks like. "Last one. Let's make this special. For you."

"Close your eyes." Rei whispers against your ear, and you comply, without hesitation.

You wait. Trying your hardest not to peek. Yujin starts the countdown. The pit in your stomach tells you something's happening, but you don't think much of it. Probably Leeseo making bunny ears over your head or Liz poking your cheek.

"One, two—"

She suddenly goes silent. But you feel them. Everywhere. On your skin.

Lips softly crash all over your face. On your temple, your cheek, their breaths, the little giggles hushed as they lean away just as quickly as the camera flash pings. It happens all at once. You don't recognize who kisses where. But they kissed you anyway. That's what you know.

When you reopen your eyes, Rei's holding up your phone for all to see, and the result: she's pecking the front of your left cheek, Gaeul's lips just right beside hers, and Yujin kissing your forehead with her arms wrapped around your neck. To your right, Wonyoung blesses your temple, Liz parallel with Gaeul on the opposite cheek, and Leeseo stifling her laughter mid-kiss just beneath Liz. One thing's for certain: they're all beaming.

It's blurry. It's shaky. It's a mess. It's perfect.

All of a sudden, you can't breathe. Your face is burning up, but in a good way. You're telling yourself 'I can't believe that actually happened' without uttering a single word, and they're smiling proudly, showing no regret.

Then a phone buzzes. Not yours, the one in Rei's hand, but from somewhere else. Yujin quickly fishes the one from her pocket and reads. The look on her face, the sudden shift from joy to frown on her lips tells you everything.

"Manager," is all she has to say, and reality has come to bring you back down to earth. You can't even be happy for more than five minutes. "We have to go."

"They're waiting at the park entrance," Wonyoung states, bluntly, now also checking her phone. The message is the same for everyone: South Gate. Five minutes. That's it. Maybe less. 

But they see the returning gloom on your face and soothe you with the same little smiles that had been keeping you warm the whole time. 

"Walk with us," Rei suggests, holding out her hand as they gather themselves and stand. "We want to say goodbye. Properly."

Your mind is telling you to decline. Refuse, say that they went above and beyond, that you don't deserve all this love and special attention they've given you, that they're probably stalling for time for a flight they're almost certainly gonna be late to keep you happy just a little bit longer—

But nothing materializes. You take her hand, and start walking. Together.

You don't go back the way you came from; you continue further down the winding road, and in the distance, you can already see two pairs of headlamps and shadowy silhouettes looming on the horizon. They've been waiting. For how long is a whole other question you have no answer to.

They've encircled closely around you. Yujin and Gaeul lead the way, Leeseo and Wonyoung hover beside you, and Rei and Liz trail right behind. More importantly, they're not rushing. The walk is leisurely, like they aren't supposed to be at the airport right now—or a while ago. The eldest occasionally glance back to check on you, and you just nod every time. Even when Leeseo takes your hand as an assurance, you know the inevitable is just right around the corner, and not even they can't save you from the end.

Eventually, when Gaeul looks at you again, she finally speaks up. "You're overthinking again."

"I'm not." The denial is almost immediate. Defensive but gentle, as to not cause much concern.

"Sure you are," she maintains, tilting her head, assessing your every twitch, your every move. "I can tell by the way you've been staring at the ground and not at our faces. How you've been silent. You don't want this to end."

She's got it spot on. Because the last thing you want to remember is the smiles, the photos, not them waving goodbye from behind a van, even though you have two different lives to live. Even though she only knew you for less than an hour, she's solved your mind.

"Not," you insist, but Gaeul doesn't fall for the bullshit. It came off as weak too, making it all the more obvious. "I—wasn't—"

"Hey. We're not mad or anything like that," she says, facing you, walking backwards, careful to sound firm without provocation. "We're just making an observation. That's all. What are you thinking about right now?"

"Yes." Leeseo swings the hand she's joined to, a reminder that someone is always watching, even if one of the members isn't paying attention. "You can tell us. We won't judge."

Here we go again. They care too much that it's almost suffocating. You can already hear the words: 'Stop—' 'Don't apologize for our mistake—' 'We chose—' 'You deserve this—'

And it's not cause you don't believe after all that's occurred; you do, somewhat. But everything feels too good to be true. That the universe must find a way to restore balance to itself by any means necessary. 

"I don't know," you admit, imagining the annoyed, disgruntled expressions on their faces. "I just—I don't understand why you're doing this—"

Perhaps you wished a little too hard, because Gaeul closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but she doesn't groan or grumble, at least audibly. The frustration on her face is clear as day, however. 

"Because we chose to. Okay? There's nothing else to it," she explains, and Yujin's looking over her shoulder now, at her fellow member, nodding. "What do you want us to tell you exactly? That we love you? That we cherish you? That we will see you again? Of course we will. Because I—we—love you. So, so much."

"We didn't sit on that bench, eat ice cream, let you cry on our shoulders and kiss you for nothing," Rei adds, tapping you from behind. "We really do appreciate you. You just have to believe us."

"Unless you have some other reason you're hiding," Wonyoung chimes in, now taking your other hand. "Tell us. What's really bothering you?"

Suddenly, it feels like their gentle eyes have turned into cold, calculating stares. Being put on the spot like this—it might as well be an interrogation, except everyone's bad cop pretending to act good. And that's exactly why you're doubting. You're still moving, sure, but in a way that makes traffic seem like an open highway, and there's no cliff to drive off from.

"I'm just" —you start, and when you look into their eyes (doesn't matter who), you feel small and fragile— "waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like all this feels like one big lie."

Liz tilts her head, confused. "How come?"

"I don't know," you answer, kicking a small pebble on the pathway. "You've been so good to me it doesn't make any sense. Like I know you've been wanting to leave already, or that you hate me, because I keep crying and whining and doubting you. And I'm sorry. I really wish you just—"

Everyone comes to a complete halt. Yujin stops you with her hand. The rest surround you in a way that feels like cornering a wounded soldier to finish them off. "Answer me this question."

You nod. Your throat feels constricted, but she's expecting words.

"Do you think we would have gone out of our way to find you in that parking lot if we hated you?"

Nothing comes out. You subtly wag your head, but Yujin wants to hear an answer.

"Not enough. Answer me. Please."

You swallow. "—No."

"Do you think we would have asked you to walk with us? That we'd allow you to lead us away from the venue, and eat ice cream here because we hated you?"

Again, "No."

"Do you think we'd let you cry on our shoulders if we hated you? That we've said it for God knows how many times that we love you and care about you? That you deserve everything we gave you right now?" She raises her tone ever-so slightly, still kind and empathetic, but it makes your heart jump. "Would we be having this conversation right now if we were impatient with you?"

"No, Yujin—" you say, panicked because this is exactly what you've been expecting. You've been waiting for the moment the pot finally boils over. But she doesn't move. Doesn't do anything. Just asks.

"Then why are you so adamant that we hate you? Give us a reasonable answer. Right now."

Your eyes widen. You wanna yell. Lash out. Finally make them see first hand that they've chosen wrong. 

But like everything else, it comes out delicate and small: "Because I simply can't, okay? I can't trust a single thing you say."

The world stops. Yujin blinks slowly. So do the rest. Go on. Explain.

"And it's not because I hate you or anything like that—I really love each and every one of you—it's just been tiring, you know. I've been through so much in one day that I can't understand myself or anything anymore. You've been so kind to me, like I said. A little too much that I sometimes wonder if I'm actually talking to the real you. And some part of me believes in the back of my mind that you're being performative. That you'll get in that van and regret doing all this. Or maybe you've been talking about me behind my back."

Their verdict doesn't come for a while. And when it does, it's hysterical.

Yujin shakes her head softly. She lets out a small laugh that's unnerving. "I really appreciate how honest you've been about everything."

There's no judgment in her tone; just an air of freshness that's meant to be light. Instead, you're left puzzled. 

"Most fans would have told us they're fine and go their way," she continues, and her trademark smile is gradually returning. "So believe me when I say your honesty has been so refreshing to hear."

"You're–you're not mad?"

"Why would we be? You've given us no reason to." 

"But—everything else—"

"Nothing in your argument holds up, okay?" Yujin places a hand on your shoulder, leans in close so you stare directly into her eyes. "We saw you crying. We realized we missed you. Then you poured out your heart for us. Do you think we'd regret doing this, after hearing everything you had to say?"

"I—" you say, but the words die on your tongue. Except one. "Maybe—"

"You wouldn't believe how many rules we've broken just for you," she interrupts, smiling from ear to ear remembering. "Delayed our schedules. Fought against staff. Went out in public without said staff and risked ourselves being swarmed—"

"Don't forget kissing a fan," Rei chimes from behind, much to everyone's laughter, Yujin included. "Especially kissing a fan."

"Yes, kissing a fan too," Yujin repeats, chuckling mid-sentence. "but the point I'm trying to make here is: we've done so much to show you we love you. And we'd do it again and again if it means you really, truly believe us."

"But—your schedules—the company—won't they—"

"They won't," Gaeul interjects. "They won't punish us. Severely, that is."

"They know the faces that run the place," says Wonyoung, confident yet classy. "They know what's gonna happen if they provoke us."

"We'll get written-up at best. Maybe a small fine," Liz adds. "Definitely a huge talking. But that's nothing compared to losing you."

"It's all worth it," Leeseo says simply. "You're worth it."

Yujin pulls away, but you refuse to let go of her hand. She lets it stay, halfway facing you as they continue the walk. "You understand now? No matter how much you wanna argue, we'll always say the same thing."

"And what if I still don't believe?" you ask, because you're that obstinate.

"Then we'll keep reminding you," she says, equally as stubborn. "until you truly believe us."

And for the first time in what seemed to be forever, your heart thumps. Just a fraction, but it feels like the light has finally shone on you.

So you continue walking. Still stretching out the moments as far as you can go. The girls have retreated to their usual positions, but it's much lighter now. More serene.

"I really have to say sorry," you start again, and everyone's hardwired to face you the moment that specific word is spoken, because they're expecting another reason for you to put yourself down, another battle to be fought. "for testing your patience. I mean, you've said it yourself: you delayed your schedules just for me, and if I wasn't so cynical, you'd be on that plane now. Or at least on your way to the airport."

The girls can only smile and sigh. "We've been through this," Leeseo says softly, holding your hand a little bit tighter. "You don't have to apologize for anything."

"But—"

"No more buts. No more apologies, alright?" Gaeul looks over her shoulder, over you. Her glare is sharp but with kind intent. "You're our Dive. We love you. You deserve everything. Point blank. Period."

That stops you cold. Firm, final. You can only bow your head, but Gaeul reaches her hand out for you to hold. So you do. She caresses over it gently, softly, reassuring you this is all out of genuine love.

"If we were actually tired or impatient, we would have just bowed, apologized quickly, and gotten in the van back in the parking lot," Wonyoung adds, just to reaffirm everything. "Not spend important time with you. So please—at least give yourself this. Just this one good thing, if you can't accept anything else."

You finally concede. Even though you look the other way, you're still walking with them, letting them hold your hand, and you're not brushing anyone away. 

"Besides, this is actually nice," Rei says, looking up at the night sky. "It's a good change of pace from our usual schedule."

You don't consider asking, but Yujin explains nevertheless: "Most nights, we just fly in the day before the show. Then on the day of the show itself, its rehearsal, soundcheck, stage, send-off, then hotel. Sometimes we just skip the hotel and go straight to the airport. Like we were supposed to tonight. It's all streamlined and micromanaged." 

"Yeah. We're so tired and constantly moving that we can barely talk to each other," Gaeul adds. "We post pics, send a few messages on Berriz, maybe scroll Twitter a bit till we pass out on the plane."

"Your energy is what keeps us going, and I mean literally," Yujin speaks again. "After the show, we just—crash. It's hard to go from people cheering for you to—dead silence."

You feel the same way: how two hours can pass by in a flash, expending all your passion and energy after months of waiting and preparing, and then it just—ends.

"Plus, this was the perfect excuse for ice cream," Leeseo suddenly says, tilting her gaze over to you. "I've been craving for some the whole day."

Ain't no fucking way, you're saying to yourself. "You weren't."

"Of course I was," she answers cheerfully. "Staff told me it would affect my voice. Seriously. Even just one cone, they said no. So thank you."

You look at Leeseo in utter disbelief. "You used my emotional breakdown for ice cream." Not a question, but an observation.

"Yep. But we made a friend out of it. It's a win-win," she says, and everyone laughs.

"I told you I wasn't joking," Rei quips.

The air between you feels lighter now. They're chuckling, and you're grinning, just a bit. Leeseo points it out, and you're averting your face while they huddle around you, warm as ever. All is right in the world.

"Let's talk about other things that aren't about crying," Liz suggests. "Where did you come from to see us?"

The change in atmosphere and tone catches you off-guard, but you answer comfortably. "From the countryside. Drove four hours just to be here."

"One way?" She looks surprised.

"Yeah. I mean, I've got a hotel to return to after" —your words die thinking about it— "you know—"

"I get it. It's been a long day. For you probably."

"No shit," you reply, casual, like you're conversing with friends, uncaring about the fact you just swore in their presence. "I've been up since 6 AM because that's how excited I was. And also because of all the driving, obviously. But that's nothing to some of the people I've met there."

They remain silent. They know what you mean: people who've flown out from other countries, from the corners of the region, when driving is simply implausible, and your dedication feels like a stroll compared to theirs. Some fansites could be included too, given how they're willing to go this far.

"You have no idea how we reacted when the announcement dropped," you continue. "It felt like salvation. Like our prayers were finally being answered because you actually included us in your world tour."

"I saw it on Twitter," Rei says. "The fanbases were cheering for you. Even those from countries that weren't included—they were celebrating."

"It meant I didn't have to fly out to see you, and I was already considering it. But you came to us."

"We heard of how quickly it sold out too," Yujin notes. "Faster than Taipei, Macau, and Seoul. I'm surprised they didn't announce a second show here. You guys were so loud."

"I heard your ment," you answer. "about there not being a day two. I would have gone too. Maybe all three days."

"Then we would definitely have seen you," Leeseo says. "But—we did. Just a bit later than you wanted."

And somehow, it lands like a joke now. Not something you'd pine over. She's smiling, and you're smiling, and everything feels right.

"So—why didn't you?" Gaeul's turn to ask. "You said you considered flying out. What happened?"

"You did, obviously," you chuckle, barely sidestepping past a particularly large fallen branch, "but I have flown out before. For another group. I would have waited for the encore if I chose to fly out. But its—a lot. Travel, accommodation, food, merch—"

"That's fair."

"And there's more," you continue, "I wanted it to be special, you know? I wanted to be at the front, and I got it. So you could see me. But—"

"We also happened," Gaeul finishes your sentence. "We're still regretting it. We'll never stop admonishing ourselves for this."

"I know, and you don't have to. You don't owe me anything," you say, and the memory still lingers in the back of your mind. They notice the subtle shift on your lips: the pain and the despair. "but at the time, it seemed like a complete—rejection. Like you wanted nothing to do with me. After all the years I've supported you. I just wanted some acknowledgment, and" —you take a breath— "it felt like I was unworthy of you."

The walk stops abruptly again. Rei and Liz's hands are suddenly on your shoulders. You're not crying—not yet at least—but your breaths are shaky, and you're trying to fight it off.

"So yeah. Big deal you finally came for us, especially for me, personally." You're looking into Yujin and Gaeul's eyes. "When you went on your first world tour, and we weren't included, I was hurt. So much so that I actively distanced myself from you: your music, your faces, anything that had to do with you, I wanted no part of for a while." 

Their gazes tilt down a little. Their lips twitch. Leeseo holds your hand a bit tighter.

"So why did you come back?" Wonyoung asks, tiny and disarming. 

"I—I knew I couldn't be angry forever. You were still the same group I loved so dearly, and I couldn't blame anyone but myself. I knew we didn't have the streams or the demand for you to come. Hell, when the concert movie was released in theaters, guess what: it didn't even screen anywhere too. I had to watch it off a camrip from some website. It's like you were actively trying to avoid us. None of this is your fault, obviously, but it doesn't change the fact that it hurts. And when it hurts, what do you care about more: the mind, or the heart?"

No one dares to speak. Other than Wonyoung, no one dares to look at you either. They simply listen.

"We hardly get any foreign artists, let alone K-pop shows, and the rare times they happen, they either cancel or are unknowns, usually both. So color me surprised when you, of all groups, with your popularity, decided to book a show here. It's a big deal for the entire country."

They exchange looks. Ones of dawned understanding. And they don't argue, not at all; they let you keep talking.

"But more than that, this was my chance. I thought I could be front row, wave my sign, scream and shout and finally, something would answer. That I wasn't yelling into an empty, uncaring void."

A pause. A sniffle. 

"We didn't," Liz mutters airily.

"You didn't," you say, sounding small now. "And when it happened, it felt" —you sigh, search for the words— "specific. Like you knew I was there and wanted to single me out. And I know that's not rational. I know you can't see everyone. Not if you had all the time in the world. But in the moment, it felt like complete rejection. Like you were disgusted I was there. That you wanted no part of me."

"We don't." Yujin holds your wrist, her glance tilting at the others, a unified front: "We couldn't hate you; we hardly know you. You couldn't give us a reason to hate you, and you haven't."

"And we would never," Wonyoung adds, leaning close. "We're not the type to single out people and humiliate them. We'd know."

"We don't always show it well," Gaeul continues. "But we get tired. Overwhelmed. Sometimes, it feels like we're going through the motions, and to an extent, that's true. There's only so many faces we can recognize before everyone becomes a blur. But that doesn't mean we love you any less."

"Every wave, every heart, every gesture we make—that's for you," Liz states. "Even if we're not looking directly at you or your camera, it carries all our love for you. We want you to feel that, even if it seems impossible."

"Our speeches might feel rehearsed and tired sometimes, but that doesn't mean it isn't genuine," Wonyoung speaks again. "We want to see our Dives everywhere. Your cheers, your energy, your excitement—it's why we perform. To give that love back, even just a fraction, is our highest honor. So whenever we say 'We love you,' or 'You're the best,' we truly mean it." 

"But you didn't see me," you finally say, tilting your eyes to the pavement, and even you feel exhausted bringing it up; you can only imagine what's going through their heads hearing you make the same tired argument for the umpteenth time. "I saw it with my own two eyes. You looked right through me. You can say all these beautiful things, but it doesn't change the fact that you ignored me. And—"

"We know," Yujin interrupts. It's heavy and regretful, but to the point. "We're not making any excuses. But we want you to understand that it wasn't personal. It's never personal."

The answer comes naturally before you can even think. "It felt personal."

"And that's on us," she replies, tilting your chin so you can meet her eyes. "You felt hurt. You were hurt," she immediately corrects. "That's normal. We didn't mean to. But we're so, so sorry."

No matter how many times you try to patch it, your heart keeps leaking; there's too many holes—some worse than others—to be fixed with band-aid solutions. In other words, you're crying again. Even when you want it to stop, even when you think you've emptied yourself out, the tears continue gushing down.

"All I wanted was to thank you," you mutter silently, wiping your eyes, unable to glance at them. It feels like you're back at square one. "That's it. I didn't even want a heart or some stupid fanservice anymore. Just a glance or some kind of recognition. For your music, for your content—for being you. You got me through times where I didn't think" —your voice gradually fades, hesitating as to whether or not you should tell them, but you do anyway— "I'd make it. And I thought if you saw me, I could finally say how much you mean to my life. But you didn't. And when you left, I—I thought that was it. If not tonight, I would never be able to—"

Leeseo pulls you into a deep hug. She wraps her arms around your waist from behind, pressing her head against your back. Even though you're trembling, words failing, and you're the tears and pain wash over you, she holds you through it all. 

"You're saying it now," she whispers on your shirt, gently tugging you a little tighter. "and we're listening."

She barely finishes her sentence when the others join in on the hug. God, you want it to stop. You're tired of falling apart like this, yet your heart is built on a foundation of sand and glass. But you let them carry you for a while, because you need saving now, even though you don't outright say it.

Rei's the first to pull away. Even here, they move in perfect sync. "Earlier tonight, I remember you told us something. About you not enjoying us on stage because you were too focused on getting our attention."

Almost immediately, your heart sinks. She'd only been noting—rather modestly, you might add—and yet you know what's coming. 

"Yeah," is the only thing you say, and it sounds like an admission of guilt.

"I don't think you're supposed to do that."

Simple and straightforward, yet it hits the point home like a shot to the gut. You can only avert your gaze in shame.

"We work so hard on our performances so you can enjoy them," says Liz, holding your hand. "Above anything else, we want you to have fun. To leave feeling like the time, effort, and money you spent with us was worthwhile. Interactions are nice, but they're not the main point."

"And you said it yourself: you could have joined a fansign or a fancall if you really wanted to talk to us," adds Gaeul. Each word is one piece of self-incrimination after another, made even worse by the fact they're using your own admission against you as evidence. 

"We just want you to be happy," Yujin says, right to the point. "to be here. With us. Even if it isn't—directly communicated."

"I was happy," you state. It sounds like a confession. You're glancing up at the sky, at the full moon partially blocked by clouds. "At the beginning, I really was. Seeing you in person for the first time—that was everything. It didn't feel real until you were actually there. And honest to God, the concert was everything I could have ever wanted and more. But as the show was winding down and you were scattering around during the encore—"

"We know." Yujin cuts you off. "But you were having the time of your life," she remarks.

"Until I wasn't," you admit, because you're as easy to fold as any common lawn chair. 

"Until you got in your head," she gently corrects. "You told us you became desperate and jealous. That you dwelt on what wasn't there instead of what you had."

"That's—yeah—" You wince. "Yeah. That's fair. And that's entirely on me. I should have been grateful to even be there in the first place."

"Right," Leeseo says. "And even if we don't see you exactly, the fact you gave your time and effort to be here means more to us than you already know."

Not exactly words of comfort, but you'll take it.

"There's always a next time," Wonyoung adds. "If you want there to be. You can always do better. And so will we."

"It's a learning lesson for all of us," Gaeul immediately follows. "So that makes us even."

You're still lingering on Wonyoung's words. "If there is a next time," you mutter out, and they see the way you deeply think about it, that you're clearly doubting.

"There will be," Wonyoung reassures, delivered with that trademark confidence that feels like a guarantee. "We'll make sure of it."

"We should keep moving," Yujin suddenly states, staring ahead to the vans parked at the gate's borders. Still a good distance away from where you're standing, but a looming presence nonetheless. Everyone's attention is drawn toward them—except yours. "Manager's gonna be so pissed."

Her gaze then briefly lands on you. "Not your fault, of course." 

She makes it abundantly clear, but you're you. You don't think that. It's clearly your doing.

They start walking again. No longer a closed bubble, but as a coordinated unit straight ahead. You'll let them leave without you. Still under the belief that you wasted so much of their time, even with all the reassurances they've given. 

Except they don't; Rei grabs your hand with that cheeky grin and pulls you in tow with the rest, until you follow in step naturally. There's no rush, no urgency in their stride, like they're oh-so obviously aware of how you don't want them to go. The glances whenever they over their shoulder don't make it any less subtle.

You're more than content to watch. Soak in every little action, every little thing they do. It isn't the most exciting of things: just Not their typical idol selves, but the actual humans behind the facade. This is the girl group you sometimes call home. 

And you can't help but want to enshrine it.

"Can I—" you start, almost mute, as if you're asking for too much. That this feels too authentic to be caught on camera.

Yujin turns around. "What is it?"

You deny it at first. "No—it's nothing," but she sees the phone in your hand. Immediately understands. "I'm good—"

"Candids," she remarks casually. "You want to take candids of us?"

"N-no—" you choke on your own words. She smiles, that gummy puppy-eyed grin that's charming. 

"Go ahead," she says kindly, gesturing to the others to watch for your camera. 

Forget that there's hardly any decent lighting around (unlike at the bench) or that the photos themselves come out as mostly blurs and silhouettes; it still looks natural, and that's how it should be. Sometimes their faces aren't even present in the frame, whether by design or accident, but they're polaroid worthy regardless.

You catch them in their most open form: Yujin staring up at the sky, Gaeul glancing back with her side profile in view, Rei doing that brainrot gesture, Wonyoung flipping her hair, Liz looking down at the ground, and Leeseo smiling shyly with her finger pointed at you.

"Tell us your name," Wonyoung then asks, and your face burns up at the thought. Doesn't matter you never said it once up until now; this suddenly feels too intrusive. Or that they'll probably forget you after this.

They look amused. You say it anyway like the foldable lawn chair you are.

"Record this," she then instructs, pointing your phone toward her like the star that she is, and you start. You catch the little smirk on her lips. You hear your name spoken in her saccharine tone, and your brain just glitches.

"Thank you for coming today. I hope you can look back on tonight with fond memories. We see you. We love you."

The other five girls jump into frame, waving, smiling, echoing the same thing: "We love you, Dive. I-ting!"

Your face cracks. Just a little. 

—————

You've been trying to avoid it the entire walk, but before you know it, it's already over.

On the other side of the gate, the vans are waiting. Engines idle, windows all tinted pitch-black, and their manager and bodyguard waiting almost impatiently. It's nothing personal, but the guard glares at you like you're the reason he's getting his pay docked when they return to Korea—which you most likely are. Meanwhile, the manager subtly points at his watch, telling you everything you need to know.

The girls turn around to face you one last time. This is it.

Yujin holds both your hands with hers, leaning her face forward. "This isn't goodbye."

Open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Her choice of words is very specific, you realize. Like she's studied your mind and how it works.

"We will see you again," Wonyoung encourages. 

Glancing at her, you say, doubtful, "You don't know that."

"We'll make sure," she replies, insistent and resolute but gentle. "One way or another, we're gonna find you."

"But—the company—the tours—there's no guarantee—"

"We don't break our promises." Rei steps forward, firm in her stance. "Even if you're all the way at the back, or even if it's not here in your country—we will find you. That's a promise."

"And how will I know—"

"Because you're the kind of fan that never gives up," Gaeul quickly interjects before you finish. "The kind that still believes and keeps going after everything. You let us comfort you when you could have walked away. That speaks volumes about the kind of person you are."

"We won't forget you," Liz chimes in. "You trusted us. Gave us a chance to make things right, even when we didn't deserve it. That kind of grace can't be forgotten easily."

"We promise we won't forget you," Leeseo reiterates. "We can't ever forget a person like you."

Yujin and Wonyoung are nodding. Wonyoung takes your hand and holds it, intertwining your pinky fingers together. "We will see you again. We swear."

You can only smile and shake your head, barely stifling a laugh. It isn't pleasant, even though it looks and sounds convincing, like you're finally starting to believe, when in reality, this feels more like a eulogy. A final farewell.

And now it's your turn to say yours.

After taking a deep breath and letting your nerves breathe, you face them, one by one, and speak:

"Yujin. You're the best leader anyone could ask for. You've had to bear so much, but you still carry your spark, especially when you perform. I can tell how much you love performing on stage. Thank you."

Her eyes glisten.

"Gaeul. I'm glad people are starting to notice you now. You were always the most underrated one in my eyes. People don't understand what you bring to this team. It may have taken this long for you to get that shine, but you deserve it so, so much. Thank you."

She smiles. Looks away. Cheeks puffed.

"Rei. Your energy is so infectious. Your smile, your chaos, your silliness—even when I was falling apart, you managed to make me laugh. And you held my hand when I wanted you to leave me back there—twice. You make everyone feel included. So thank you."

Her grin wavers. She quickly averts her gaze, but a tear is falling.

"Wonyoung. I don't even know where to begin. Everything you do is iconic. But how you keep yourself composed and calm, even with all the needless hate for every thing you do, is what stands out to me. I wish I could be as great as you one day. Thank you."

She puts her hands together. Mouths something quietly: "You already are."

"Liz. You're gorgeous. Always have been. The people who think you're a visual hole are blind and stupid. They don't even realize that you're actually hilarious and charming. And don't even get me started on your voice. That same voice kept me afloat during some sleepless nights. Thank you."

She's crying openly, poorly concealing her face behind the sleeve of her shirt.

"Leeseo. You've grown up so fast. So much so that even I feel old, even though we're not that far off. But you're still brimming with that same joy and light from day one. You remind me that I'm also growing with you guys, but it doesn't mean I always have to be serious. Thank you."

Her lips tremble. 

"I want to believe so bad. Trust me, I really do, and I hope it happens. I want to be there for every tour, every milestone, every anniversary, every comeback until you decide to call it quits," you say through a shaky voice, and you're trying to fight off the tears because you're so fucking done with crying and you want them to see your smile even in these dying moments,through gritted teeth and deep breaths: "But if I don't, and this is the only time I will ever see you, then I just want you to know how truly important you are to me. You helped me through some of the darkest parts of my life, when I was lost and hopeless and I thought there was nothing left." 

You pause, cry a little, but ultimately keep going: "You gave me something to hold onto. You made me want to live."

You watch their faces shatter in real time. Tears streaming everywhere, unable to gaze at you, their heads bowed in deep reverence. Even both Gaeul and Wonyoung can barely keep themselves together, and they rarely show any emotion. The fact you're the only one managing to maintain some semblance of steadiness in the end, somehow, is a miracle in and of itself.

"So thank you. Thank you for sharing your talents, your personalities—your everything. Not just for me, but for every person that proudly calls themselves a Dive. And I'm sorry—for pushing you away too. For being so annoying and parasocial and cynical about whether your love is real or not. I don't deserve the kindness you gave me, not after everything I did—but thank you, thank you, thank you. For finding me when I was broken. For mending my heart. For giving me a second chance. For making all this" —you're gesturing with your hands, pertaining to the years of devotion, hope, and belief— "worth it in the end. You really are my everything. And I will miss you so much."

They pull you in for another hug. Now they're the ones crying into your warmth. All six members. You let them. It's the least you can do. 

"You're not a bad fan," Yujin mumbles into your shoulder, crying freely. "You never were."

"You gave us a second chance," Rei adds. "You could have walked away. You could have hated us after what we did. But you chose to stay. We should be the ones thanking you."

"We don't deserve a fan like you," says Leeseo, her lips curled into a frown, her tears landing on your shirt.

"I don't deserve a group like you," you counter, falling into their embrace, but you're smiling. Genuinely.

"Please keep going," Wonyoung murmurs into your shoulder. "If not for us, then for yourself. For your loved ones. For the many memories you have yet to make." 

"Please stay," Liz echoes. "We still have to meet again, remember?"

"We'll move heaven and earth to find you again," Gaeul says. "Just promise you'll keep going, okay?"

"I'll try," you say, and it feels like you're finally standing on your own two feet. "For you. I'll try."

Their held breaths are released. Relief. Yujin simply puts it best:

"That's all we can ask."

 "Girls. Time," is all the manager has to say, and they draw back from your embrace. Slowly, reluctantly, like now they're the ones refusing to let go. Oh, how the tables turn.

Leeseo tries to keep her fingers close a moment longer, but you gently remind her (and everyone else): "I'll be fine. More than. Because of tonight. Because of you."

She doesn't seem fully convinced, but she smiles anyway. 

One by one, they walk past the gate and climb into the vans. Gaeul first, and she blows a kiss from a distance. Rei second; she tries to make a face, and you laugh, and she's delighted. Liz simply makes a heart with her hands, and you mirror her gesture, switching the dynamic between idol and fan. Leeseo softly nods; she's still sobbing a little, but you reassure her with a smile and she's finally assured and enthusiastically waves goodbye.

That leaves only Yujin and Wonyoung.

Wonyoung gathers her hands together. She closes her eyes. Says a tiny prayer, then afterward, she leans forward to plant a soft peck on your temple. 

"For luck," she says, before quickly pulling back and entering into the second van. "We will see you again. Trust."

"You didn't come to our section once," you quietly remark, but it's delivered in friendly jest. "Until the actual end of the concert, actually."

"Sorry." She laughs, light and airy, but sincere. "I'll keep that in mind for next time. When you're there."

"Not just for me," you say. "But for everyone else too."

Wonyoung takes her step back and enters the second van, but not before blowing you one final kiss: "Make sure to eat something. Ice cream isn't enough."

Lastly, Yujin. Both of you briefly stare at each other for a moment, until you blink and break the silence: "You should go. I can take care of myself."

"Again, this isn't goodbye," she reiterates, the same thing she said when you first got here, but you properly believe it now.

"I know."

"Will you be okay?" Her eyes are twinkling with unshed tears. "We can ride you back, just to be sure—"

"I'll be alright," you insist, and you're completely certain. "It's just a block away. You have a flight to catch."

She finally yields first. Nods.

"Be safe going home, okay? Text someone once you're at your hotel."

"Of course."

You can only nod before she walks away and enters the van. Their bodyguard slides the door shut and heads to the passenger seat.

The engines hum. No waves, no gestures, no more assurances—just a reminder that life goes on. That your best days are just someone else's routine. But as the vans begin to move, you see a flash of light from inside one of the windows, hands waving at you, and a phone held up in maximum brightness with a written message:

"We see you now <3"

It's only visible for a moment as the cars drive off. You watch the vans gradually disappear from view, until it becomes a dim blur you can no longer follow.

Time stops for no one. You're on your own again.

When you realize that you're alone, like really, truly alone, the world feels larger. Louder. Like that hour in the park was paradise. And now, it's back to reality.

You're not sure where to start. Where the dream began and when it ended. The last hour still doesn't feel real. Even with all the evidence on that phone, now barely hanging on for dear life (at 5%), you're still trying to convince yourself this all really happened. 

But the tears, the comfort, the catharsis—they were real. 

You're crying again, because your body language has been reduced to this, but it's not out of pain anymore: rather true, genuine joy.

Finally, you turn the other way. Every step feels light. Your phone buzzes. On screen, their lips are on your face. You can't help but smile. 

You can't wait to tell her everything.

(And you'll walk with your head held high, because the best is yet to come.)

—————

(A/N: hey so can't you tell i haven't moved on yet

In all seriousness, this idea has been around for almost a year or so. I will admit there was a time I actively wanted to avoid their music and content because I couldn't stomach being jealous about missing their first world tour. It took me months, and one concert movie watch along with a friend to finally get closure. I swore I wouldn't miss them again should they ever return, and thank God they did. I was more than happy to be seated all the way in the back, but as the date drew closer and other factors were in play, something in me was compelled to take a risk and get a better spot. So I did, with just one week till the show date. And I don't regret it. Not in the slightest.

They say you associate key moments in your life with key figures. And for me, IVE (and Le sserafim to an extent) defined my college years. I was a freshman when I had my first concert (and they took my concert virginity), and now I get to see them again as I graduate three years and six other shows later. So this fic represents my journey as a fan and as a person. It's a full circle moment, an ending, but also a new beginning. So believe me when I say that IVE is that special, because I can look fondly on these past 3 years, through the good and bad. And last Saturday was a reflection of that.

Big shoutout to cray and Dotoli, let's run it back in 2028/2029 (with raf and qwib this time)!

Onto better days ahead. Thank you so much for reading ♡)

[jupiterpilgrim]

Youre such a maestro in writing threesome (or two characters x oc in general) maybe because you give the chracters background and based?? I dont even know but its really really good

Ive seen it in GaeulxYujin (my favorite), even back to that JuliexNatty fic and now in the Yuna x Yeji fic

Just asking is writing threesome your favorites? And please give tips on how to write it well. Thanks Jupiter!

Thank you!!

Yeah, I’m really drawn to trio dynamics. Three just feels like a magic number, especially for stories, and even more for fics. It creates just enough dramatic complexity without overwhelming the reader, which is usually what starts to happen once you go past four characters. With only two central characters, things can feel more intimate, sure, but structurally it often turns into a straight line.

With three, the rhythm opens up. You get a protagonist, a romantic partner/ally, and a third character who can act as a catalyst or even an antagonist.

I won’t ramble too much about my process because no one really cares about that, but in this fic it’s basically: OC → protagonist, stuck in a kind of inert phase. Yeji → love interest, the one who sparks motivation. Yuna → catalyst, pushing everything forward. And yeah, the background helps too, along with balancing how much you tell versus show about who the characters are throughout the story.

So, in short, treat your characters like little soldiers and assign them different narrative roles, ideally with some contrast between them. But that’s preference, not a rule (just what I enjoy doing <3

[jupiterpilgrim]

If The Feeling's Right

Yeji x Yuna x m!reader

word count: 15K

Five p.m., Friday, the unofficial signal that the night can start early. The door flies open, hits the stopper, and snaps back as Yuna walks in like she owns the place. She doesn’t. She doesn’t even live here, but that’s never once crossed her mind as a limitation.

"Hello? Anybody home? Where is everyone, what the fuck," she announces to no one in particular, already kicking off her shoes in the entryway and leaving them wherever they land. She's wearing those stupidly low-waisted jeans she refuses to retire and a cropped black top that shows off the belly button piercing she got on impulse two months ago. Her hair is freshly straightened and falling past her shoulders, dark and shiny, and she's got that look on her face. That Friday look. The one that means trouble for everyone within a five-mile radius.

Yeji is sitting at the kitchen table with both hands wrapped around a mug of coffee, still wearing her work clothes. Button-up shirt untucked, sleeves rolled to the elbows, her short blonde hair messy from running her fingers through it all day. She looks like she got hit by a bus and the bus backed up to finish the job.

"Can you not scream when you walk in," Yeji says, not even looking up. "Please. For once."

"Wow. Okay." Yuna drops her bag on the counter and puts a hand on her chest. "That's how you greet your girlfriend? I come all the way here, on a Friday, looking this good, and you give me that energy? Should I just leave? Should I turn around and go?"

"I didn't say leave. I said stop screaming."

"I wasn't screaming, I was speaking excitedly." Yuna walks over, leans down, and plants a loud kiss on Yeji's cheek. She runs her fingers through Yeji's blonde hair, scratching lightly at her scalp. "Still obsessed with this look on you, by the way. The blonde is doing things to me."

"You tell me that every time you see me."

"Because it's true every time I see you." Yuna drops into the chair across from her and immediately pulls her phone out, then puts it face-down on the table like she's making a statement about being present. It lasts about four seconds before she picks it back up, checks something, then puts it down again. "So, tonight. Giselle’s friend is throwing a party at this rooftop spot. That one I’ve been talking about nonstop? This is the one. It’s supposed to be huge, and I already told everyone we're coming.”

Yeji takes a long sip of her coffee. "I just got home."

"And?"

"And I'm tired, Yuna. I've been on my feet since eight this morning."

“You said that last time.” Yuna points at her. “You said ‘I’m tired,’ and we stayed in and watched that mushroom documentary. I didn’t think this would become a pattern.”

“The documentary was actually really interesting,” Yeji counters.

Yuna lets out a slow breath. “Alright,” she says, more serious. “I’m asking you something simple, and I need an actual answer. Are you coming tonight, yes or no?”

Yeji sets the mug down with a quiet clink. “Why is your entire life just getting wasted and going to parties?” she asks. “When are you going to start taking things seriously?”

“Excuse me?” Yuna says, leaning into her chair. “I am very responsible.”

“Are you?” Yeji challenges.

“Yes,” Yuna insists. “I have a job. I have a really hot girlfriend, and yeah, she can be mean to me sometimes, but I still love her. I read. And on weekends I go out and enjoy my youth before I’m old and my knees give out. That sounds pretty balanced to me.”

Yeji lifts an eyebrow. “You work at a coffee shop,” she points out.

“It’s a specialty café,” Yuna corrects.

“You read fanfiction,” Yeji adds.

“Literature is literature,” Yuna argues.

“And you forgot our two-year anniversary,” Yeji finishes.

That one lands. Yuna’s gaze drops, her cheeks warming. “I didn’t forget it,” she mutters. “I remembered the day after.”

“That’s forgetting it, Yuna,” Yeji says flatly.

"That's remembering it with a slight delay." Yuna crosses her arms. "Wow. Okay! Sorry I'm not good enough for Miss Perfect over here. Sorry I don't have a Google Calendar alert for every significant date in our relationship. Sorry I—"

"You’re being dramatic," Yeji cuts in.

“I’m being honest,” Yuna shoots back. “Again.”

Yeji’s lips twitch, a smile threatening. "Are you done?" she asks.

"Maybe." Yuna huffs. "So. The party. Yes or no."

Yeji glances toward the bedrooms at the end of the hall, her expression shifting, edges softening. She turns back to Yuna, giving a faint shake of her head. "I'd rather stay home tonight. Things here aren't great right now."

Yuna follows her gaze to the hallway. Her whole demeanor changes, the party energy dialing down a few notches. "Did they fight again?"

"No." Yeji wraps both hands around her mug again. "They broke up. For real this time."

"Oh shit." Yuna sits up straight. "Finally. I mean— okay, that sucks for him, but honestly? It was about damn time. That girl treated him like garbage. I'm telling you, Ryujin was cheating on him. I would bet actual money on it. Remember that time she showed up here smelling like—"

"Yuna." Yeji makes a sharp shushing sound. "Keep it down."

Yuna drops her tone to something resembling an indoor level. "Okay. Sorry. Where is he?"

"In his room. He's been there all day. He didn't eat lunch, he hasn't come out for water, nothing. Just... in there. Silent."

"Is he dead?"

"He's not dead. I checked on him an hour ago. He was alive." Yeji pauses. "Barely. But alive."

"God. Poor guy."

They both sit with that for a second, the kitchen quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator. Then they hear it. A door opening down the hall. Footsteps, slow and heavy, padding across the hardwood.

You appear in the living room looking like you haven't slept in two days, which is probably accurate. Sweatpants, wrinkled t-shirt, hair going in every possible direction. You shuffle into the kitchen and give Yuna a flat little wave. "Hey, Yuna."

"Hey, babe." She watches you make your way across the kitchen, dragging your steps a little.

You open the refrigerator, grab the milk carton, and drink straight from it. Long, slow gulps. No glass. No shame. Just a man and his dairy.

"I was going to use that milk later," Yeji says.

You lower the carton and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. "Sorry. I'll buy another one."

"You didn't even go outside to take the trash out today." She studies your face for a second, then sighs. "You know what, forget it. Don't worry about it."

You stand there holding the milk like you forgot what to do next. Yuna gets up from her chair and walks over to you. She takes the carton from your hands gently and sets it on the counter. "Hey. I know what happened." Her tone is completely different from two minutes ago. No more party girl, no more volume. Just Yuna, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. "I'm sorry. That girl didn't deserve you. I mean that. She was always cold to you and everyone could see it and you deserve so much better than what she gave you."

"I loved her," you say, and it comes out so flat, so emptied out, that Yeji and Yuna trade a quick look over your shoulder, the kind that says yeah, this is bad.

"Come here." Yuna grabs your hand and pulls you toward the chair, sitting down and tugging you onto her lap. You let it happen, moving slowly, almost absent, like your body’s just following orders.

"Isn't this weird?" you ask. "I mean… your girlfriend is right there."

Yuna smiles, glancing sideways at Yeji. "She likes watching," she says lightly.

"Shut up, Yuna," Yeji groans, rubbing her temple.

Yuna wraps an arm around your middle and tugs you in, letting you lean back against her. You’ve got a few inches on her, enough that the position looks a little off, your legs stretching out too far, but she holds you there anyway.

"Listen to me. That girl treated you badly. I know it doesn't feel like that right now because your brain is doing the thing where it only remembers the good stuff. But everyone saw it. Me, Yeji, all of us. She talked down to you, she made you feel small, and she kept you on a leash so short you couldn't breathe." She rubs your arm. "I know what it's like to be blinded by love. I've been there. But this is better. I promise you, six months from now, you'll look back and realize this was the best thing that could've happened."

You stare at the table. "She said things weren't working anymore. That I was suffocating her."

"You were suffocating her?" Yeji can't help it. It slips out sharp and incredulous. She catches herself, softens her tone. "Sorry. But Yuna is right. You were in a toxic relationship, and I told you that. I told you so many times, and you didn't listen to me."

"Yeah. I know." You pick at a scratch on the table. "Well. Now you can celebrate. She won't be showing up here anymore." Yeji sighs, long and tired. That one stings and you can see it on her face, but she doesn't push back.

Yuna jumps in before the silence gets too heavy. "I think what you need right now is some alone time. Just, like, decompress. Process the feelings, you know? So actually, I was going to drag Yeji to this party tonight, which means you'd have the whole apartment to yourself. No noise, no us being annoying. Just you and some peace and quiet. That sound okay?"

You nod. "Yeah, go ahead. Have fun."

You stand up from Yuna's lap and start heading back down the hall. Yuna calls after you. "Hey. Don't do anything crazy while we're gone, okay? Like, seriously. It would be extremely traumatic for both of us to come home to something fucked up. Watch a Disney movie. That's what I do when I'm sad. Moana is like a prescription antidepressant."

You pause at the hallway entrance. "I'll think about it."

You disappear around the corner. The bedroom door clicks shut. Quiet again.

Yeji turns to Yuna with a look that could cut glass. "Did you seriously just use 'he needs alone time' as a reason for us to leave him here by himself so you could get me to go to the party?"

Yuna shrugs, not even a little bit sorry. "It worked, didn't it?"

"He's going through the worst breakup of his life and your solution is to abandon him."

"We're not abandoning him, he's not a puppy, Yeji. We're giving him space." Yuna picks up her phone. "It'll be a few hours, tops. He'll be fine. He's a grown man."

Yeji stares at her for a long moment, then exhales through her nose. "Fine. I'll go. But on the way back, we're stopping to get his pizza."

"The pepperoni one with the stuffed crust?"

"Yes."

"See, you know his order." Yuna is grinning now, texting someone with her thumbs flying. "That's cute. I bet you anything Ryujin doesn't even know his favorite pizza. That girl didn't know a single thing about him."

"She didn't," Yeji says quietly. She's looking down the hallway again, at the closed bedroom door. "She never did. She never remembered his birthday, she never asked about his day, she never cooked for him when he was sick. I did all of that. Every single time." She turns back to the table, picks up her mug, realizes the coffee is cold. "And he still picked her..."

Yuna’s typing slows to a stop. She studies Yeji for a second, calm and uncharacteristically still. "It’s really cute how much you care about him.”

"He's my roommate. Obviously I care."

"Right. Your roommate." Yuna nods slowly. “The one you cook for. The one whose birthday you never forget. The one whose order you know by heart. You’re basically everything he needs, aren’t you, Yeji?”

Her head snaps up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Yuna is already back on her phone, thumbs moving again. "Go get ready. I told Giselle we'd be there by eight."

Yeji sits there for another second, mouth half-open like she wants to argue. But Yuna is already in her own world, replying to someone, humming something under her breath, Friday mode fully reactivated. Yeji pushes back from the table and stands, taking her cold coffee to the sink.

"The party better be good," she mutters, heading to her room.

Yuna doesn't look up from her screen. She just smiles.

—

The truth about Yuna and Yeji is that there was never a grand, cinematic beginning. No confessions, no rain, no moment you could point to and say that’s when it happened. It started at parties. Always parties. The same circles, the same faces, and somehow they kept ending up in the same rooms. Every time, the same low, unfinished flirting: never pushed too far, never shut down either. Yuna would spot Yeji from across the room and drift over without thinking. Yeji would let her. They’d stand too close, laugh a little too loud, linger just long enough to mean something, then leave alone and pretend it didn’t stick until the next time.

Then Yuna started texting. Coffee on a Tuesday. A gallery on a Thursday. A slow walk through a weekend market. Small things, easy things. And somewhere in the middle of all that, they skipped past the part where you’re supposed to impress each other. There was no act, nothing curated. Yuna saw straight through Yeji’s composure to the girl underneath who thinks too much, feels too deeply, and hides it well. Yeji saw through Yuna just as easily, past the mess and the noise to someone who loves so hard it almost overwhelms her.

Yuna fell first, fast and reckless, completely gone for this older, rare kind of girl who made her feel like she finally had someone worth slowing down for. Yeji fell slower, but heavier, pulled in by this slightly younger, slightly unhinged, impossibly warm girl who treated love like a full-contact sport.

Two years later, here they are.

—

Friday, 11:48 PM

The front door swings open and Yuna stumbles in first, catching herself on the doorframe with one hand and laughing at nothing. Her heels are dangling from her other hand by the straps, and her feet are bare on the cold floor.

"Shhh," she tells herself, giggling. "Shhhh, okay, I'm being quiet." Yeji comes in behind her, balancing a pizza box on one hand and fishing for the light switch with the other. She finds it, flicks it on, and winces at the brightness. "Don't turn the—ow," Yuna hisses, covering her eyes.

"Stop being dramatic and move." Yeji nudges her forward with a hip and carries the pizza to the kitchen counter, setting it down carefully. She turns back to Yuna with a finger over her lips. "Seriously. No noise. He's probably sleeping."

"Right. Yes. Quiet mode." Yuna sets her heels down on the floor and immediately forgets about quiet mode. She wraps her arms around Yeji from behind and presses a wet kiss to the side of her neck. "Hi."

"You smell like tequila,” Yeji says, wrinkling her nose.

"You smell like tequila,” Yuna shoots back.

"That's not the comeback you think it is.”

"It's a factual observation." Yuna spins her around and kisses her properly, one hand on her jaw, the other already sliding to her waist. A soft hum slips from Yeji as she kisses back, her lips carrying traces of lime, salt, and that sweet, electric-blue cocktail everyone had.

Yeji pulls Yuna toward the couch and pushes her down onto it, climbing into her lap and straddling her. Yuna grins up at her, all teeth, hands settling on Yeji's hips. "There she is," Yuna murmurs, sliding her palms up Yeji's sides. "Party Yeji. I missed her."

"Shut up and kiss me."

They make out on the couch for a while, lazy and warm, trading slow kisses that keep deepening without either of them deciding to deepen them. Yuna's fingers play with the hem of Yeji's shirt, tracing the strip of skin above her waistband, and Yeji hums against her mouth and tilts her head to change the angle. Yuna takes the invitation, kissing along Yeji's jaw, down the side of her neck, finding a spot below her ear and sucking gently until Yeji's breath hitches and her fingers curl into Yuna's hair.

Yeji pulls her back up by the jaw and kisses her again, harder this time, her tongue sliding against Yuna's, and Yuna makes a low, satisfied sound and presses closer, one thigh sliding between Yeji's legs. They stay like that for a while, tangled and unhurried, Yeji's hand gripping the back of Yuna's neck, Yuna's hips rocking forward in barely-there movements. When Yuna starts tugging the fabric upward, Yeji catches her hands and pulls back.

"Wait," Yeji says.

"Oh, come on," Yuna protests.

"I need to check on him."

Yuna drops her head back against the couch cushion and groans. "He's fine. It's almost midnight, he's sleeping. Probably watched Moana like I told him to and passed out during the part with the crab."

"I'll be quick." Yeji climbs off her lap.

"Yeji." Yuna catches her wrist. "Come to the room with me. We don't have to be long. I still need to get home tonight."

"I'm too tired." Yeji runs a hand through her hair and yawns like her body is proving her point for her. "I just want to sleep."

Yuna pouts for a solid three seconds, then sighs and releases her wrist. "Fine."

"Do you want to stay here tonight?"

Yuna shakes her head. "I have that appointment tomorrow morning and this place is way too far. I should head out." She stands up from the couch, picks up her heels, and leans in to kiss Yeji one more time. Slow, gentle. "Tell him I said hi. And make sure he eats the pizza."

"I will."

"And text me when you wake up."

"I always do."

Yuna walks to the door, slides her feet back into her heels, and blows a kiss from the entryway. The door closes behind her with a soft click. Yeji stands in the quiet apartment for a second, fixing her hair in the hallway mirror. She takes a breath. Then she walks down the hall to your room and knocks twice, softly.

She opens the door just a crack. "Hey. You awake?"

You're lying on your back staring at the ceiling. You don't move. "Yeah."

She pushes the door open wider. The room is dark except for the glow of your laptop screen, open on the bed next to you, paused on something you clearly weren't watching. "How are you doing?"

"Same as before."

"I got pizza. Pepperoni, stuffed crust. It's still hot."

"I'm not hungry."

She leans against the doorframe for a moment, her gaze soft as she watches you. "Can I lie down with you?"

"Sure. Whatever."

Yeji kicks off her heels and crosses the room. She lies down next to you on top of the covers, close enough that you can smell her perfume mixed with the faint sourness of alcohol. She stares at the ceiling with you for a moment. "You know what's funny?" she says. "One day you're going to look back at today and laugh at yourself. You're going to remember how miserable you were, lying here in the dark over someone who didn't deserve a single second of this. And I'll be there. And I'll laugh with you."

"That day feels really far away."

"Then be patient. Until it comes, I'll help you deal with this mess." She turns her head to look at you. "That's what I'm here for."

You're quiet for a while. Then you say, "Sometimes I envy what you and Yuna have."

"Envy?" she repeats.

"Yeah. You two seem inseparable. Like no matter what happens, you always find your way back to each other." You keep your eyes on the ceiling. "I spent so long walking on eggshells around Ryujin. Trying to understand what she needed, trying to make things work, adjusting myself constantly. And I still couldn't make her stay. If she had just told me what I was doing wrong, I would've fixed it. I would've done anything."

Yeji rolls onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. "That's the problem. You think it's your fault."

"Isn't it?"

"No, dummy. It really wasn’t," Yeji says gently. "You were the only one putting your heart into it. It was one-sided from the start. Ryujin treated it like a transaction—she took what you gave and gave back just enough to keep you there." She exhales quietly. "She never met you halfway. Not emotionally, not at all. No relationship is perfect, but that one… it wasn’t something you could fix by trying harder. She had to try too, and she didn’t.”

You chew on that for a second. "Even you and Yuna?"

"What about us?"

"Your relationship isn't perfect either?"

Yeji flashes a tiny, amused smile. "Do not romanticize my relationship with Yuna. We fight all the time."

"Yeah, but even your fights feel like... part of it. You two argue, you don't speak for a day, one of you gives in and apologizes, and then the other one apologizes three times over, and by dinner you're cuddling on the couch again. You understand each other. You both want the same thing."

"That's because we both want to make it work," Yeji says. "My life is complicated with Yuna. She's a lot. She forgets things, she's loud, she pushes me when I don't want to be pushed." She pauses. "But it's a thousand times worse without her. She’s changed so much from when we first started out. In a good way. She’s been making an effort to do things right. And I appreciate her for it."

"I don't think I'll ever find something like that." You close your eyes. "Maybe I'm just supposed to be alone."

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Yeji chuckles. “You’re starting to sound like someone in a bad movie.”

"I'm serious."

"Come here." She adjusts herself on the bed, scooting closer, and gently pulls your head onto her chest. You tense up for a second, then relax into it, because you're too tired to pretend you don't need this. "You are not going to give up on love because one ungrateful person came into your life, wrecked everything, and then made you feel like it was your fault. That's not how this works. You're kind. You're good. You care too much, which is a problem, but it's the good kind of problem."

"Sorry for being such a burden lately."

"Stop. You always put up with me when I'm PMSing and crying about nothing. Or when Yuna and I are screaming at each other about dishes at seven in the morning. This is nothing compared to that."

“Thanks, Yeji,” you say quietly. “I’m glad you’re here. You’re the best.”

She yawns, long and unrestrained. "I’ll stay with you a bit longer, keep you company until you’re asleep, then I’ll head back to my room. I'm so tired. I can't believe Yuna dragged me to that party."

"Was it at least good?"

Yeji snorts. "It was terrible. The music was awful, the drinks were warm, and some guy tried to explain cryptocurrency to me for twenty minutes."

"Classic."

"Mhm." Her fingers find your hair, and she starts stroking it absently, running her nails lightly across your scalp. She yawns again. "Just... a few more minutes."

She doesn't go to her room.

The conversation fades into silence, and the silence fades into sleep. Her hand slows in your hair, then stops, resting on the back of your head. Your breathing evens out against her chest. The laptop screen eventually dims to black.

—

Morning light slips through the narrow gap in your curtains as your eyes slowly open. The room feels warm, almost hazy. There’s an arm wrapped around you, and for a brief, disorienting second you think it’s Ryujin, your heartbeat catching off guard. Then Yeji’s scent finds you, faint, worn down by sleep, and everything clicks back into place.

She's curled against you, one arm slung over your torso, her face pressed into your shoulder. Still in her clothes from last night. Her blonde hair is fanned out across your pillow, messy and flat on one side. You untangle yourself carefully, lifting her arm and sliding out from under it inch by inch. She mumbles something incoherent and rolls over, pulling the blanket with her. You stand there for a second, watching her sleep in your bed.

Yeji. Roommate. Best friend. The only one who seems to actually care in ways that matter. She remembers what you like, checks on you when it’s late, stays close when you need it without making it a big deal. She falls asleep in your bed just to keep you company. And now you’re watching her, soft and peaceful in your space, and it pulls a real smile out of you, the first one since Ryujin left. She deserves something for that.

You grab a clean shirt, take a shower, brush your teeth for the first time since yesterday, and look at yourself in the mirror. You look rough, but less rough than yesterday. Progress. You step into the kitchen and start on breakfast. Eggs, toast, coffee. Nothing complicated. The routine feels steady under your hands, something you can hold onto. It makes you feel like yourself again, not just that sad outline stuck in a dark room. The eggs hit the pan with a soft sizzle, filling the silence, and for a moment, you feel almost okay.

The front door swings open.

Yuna walks in like she's entering a sitcom, sunglasses on, iced coffee in hand, wearing an oversized hoodie that definitely belongs to Yeji. "Hmm, what's that smell?" She lifts her sunglasses onto her head and grins. "Oh my god, is that breakfast? I arrived just in time. The universe provides."

You freeze at the stove, spatula in hand. Yuna sets her iced coffee on the counter and hops up onto a barstool, looking at you expectantly. "So. What are we having?”

"Morning, Yuna."

"Good morning, sunshine. You look like a person today. Major improvement." She takes a sip of her iced coffee and looks around the kitchen like she's assessing the place. "Where's the love of my life? Still sleeping?"

"Yeah, she's out cold."

"Ugh, cute. I'm gonna go peek at her. I love watching her sleep, she does this little thing with her nose where it twitches like a rabbit—"

"She's in my room, by the way."

Yuna pauses with her iced coffee halfway to her mouth. She blinks once. Twice. Then she sets the coffee down and pulls out a chair at the kitchen table, sitting down with a calm that feels almost theatrical. "Oh. Okay."

"It's not—"

"I didn't say anything."

"She came to check on me last night and we talked for a while, and she just kind of... fell asleep. That's it."

Yuna waves a hand at you dismissively, sucking on her straw. "Dude, relax. You don't need to explain. It's not like it's the first time she's passed out somewhere random. Last month she fell asleep in the bathtub reading a book. The girl has a gift." She takes a long pull of her iced coffee, draining the last of it with a loud slurp. "Yeji sleeps where Yeji wants to sleep. I stopped questioning it a long time ago."

You turn back to the stove, cracking two more eggs into the pan. You don't even think about it. You just start making Yuna's plate automatically, the way you've seen Yeji do it a hundred times. Eggs over easy, not scrambled, because Yuna likes to break the yolk with her toast and let it run everywhere. Bacon chopped into small pieces because she eats it like a topping, not a side. Coffee with two sugars and a splash of milk, strong enough to restart a dead car battery. You know that giving Yuna more caffeine at this point is like handing a lit match to a fireworks factory, but she's had a rough morning commute and you figure she's earned it.

"How are you not hungover right now?" you ask, flipping the eggs. "Yeji is literally unconscious in there. She might be dead."

Yuna stretches her arms over her head and yawns. "I have immunity. My dad used to drink soju like water at family dinners and then wake up at six to go fishing. It's genetic."

"That's not how genetics work."

"It's absolutely how genetics work. Yeji just needs more training. She's got potential but she quits too early. Two tequila shots and she's already hugging strangers and telling them she loves their energy."

You snort. You set the plate down in front of Yuna and slide the coffee over. She looks at the food, then up at you, then back at the food. "Wait." She picks up her fork and pokes the egg. The yolk breaks perfectly, golden and runny, pooling around the chopped bacon exactly the way she likes it. She takes a sip of the coffee. Her eyes widen. "How do you know my order?"

"I've watched Yeji make it for you like a thousand times."

"Babe." Yuna puts a hand over her heart. "You can marry me. Seriously. This is exactly right. The bacon is the right size and everything. Yeji always cuts it too big." She shovels a forkful into her mouth and groans. "Oh my god. This is so good. Yeji!"

“She’s asleep, don’t yell.”

"Yeji, your roommate is trying to steal me!" she yell-whispers down the hallway, then immediately goes back to eating. You watch her demolish the plate with an efficiency that borders on athletic. It's genuinely impressive how much food this girl can put away and still look like she just stepped off a runway. Slim, tall, all legs and cheekbones and that slightly unhinged energy that makes people stare at her in public.

You sit down across from her with your own plate. She's already halfway through hers.

"So how are you feeling today?" she asks, mouth still half full. "And be honest. Don't give me that 'I'm fine' thing guys do."

“I think a little better,” you reply after a moment. “Not great. But better than yesterday.”

"Did Yeji help?"

“Yeah,” you admit. “We talked for a while. She said some stuff that… I don’t know, it kind of calmed my head down a bit. I think from now on I’m just going to try to keep busy,” you conclude, exhaling softly, “and not think about Ryujin.”

"Good." Yuna points her fork at you. "That's good. But I want to say something, and I need you to actually hear it."

"Okay."

She sets the fork down and leans forward, elbows on the table. "You're looking at this from the wrong angle. All you're seeing right now is the end of something. And yeah, that sucks. Endings suck. But every ending is also the start of something new. Like, that's not just a feel-good quote on a poster in a dentist's office. That's actually how life works. One door closes, another one opens. I read that somewhere." She frowns. "I just can't remember if it was a book or a tweet. Well, the point stands."

You smile a little. "What's new to start in my life?"

Yuna tilts her head, resting her chin on her hand. She goes quiet for a second, and the quiet is unusual enough coming from her that it makes you pay attention. She's actually thinking. "Okay, here's the thing about you," she says, tone steadier than before. "You don't just dwell on the relationship. You dwell on everything. You're always looking backwards, replaying stuff, going over conversations in your head, trying to figure out where you went wrong. I see you do it. You sit on that couch and you just zone out and I can tell you're somewhere else, somewhere in the past, rewinding the same scene over and over."

You don't say anything, because she's right.

"And the thing about the past is, nobody else is there anymore. Everyone else moved on. Ryujin moved on the second she walked out that door. Your friends from college moved on. The people you used to hang out with moved on. You're the only one still standing in those rooms. And they're empty." She taps the table once with her fingernail. "So get out of there. Come here. Come to the present. Stay here with me and Yeji. We're right here. We have been this whole time."

You don’t know what to say. You just stare at her, because this is Shin Yuna: the same girl who forgot her own anniversary and walked into a job interview wearing flip-flops. And now she’s just seen right through you, naming something you’ve been unable to put into words for months.

"When was the last time the three of us actually did something together?" she asks. "Not just existing in the same apartment. Actually going somewhere, doing something fun, making a memory that doesn't involve you moping and me trying to drag Yeji to a party."

"I... don't remember."

"Exactly. That's my point."

You open your mouth to respond, but then a door opens down the hallway and Yeji shuffles into the kitchen looking like she lost a fight with consciousness and consciousness won. Her blonde hair is sticking up on one side, flat on the other. She's still wearing yesterday's shirt, wrinkled and untucked, and she's squinting at the light like a vampire encountering its first sunrise.

"Can you stop talking so loudly," she mutters, still groggy. "I can hear you from the bedroom. Both of you."

"Good morning, beautiful!" Yuna beams and pats her lap. "Come sit." Yeji drags herself across the kitchen and drops onto Yuna's lap like a sack of flour. She slumps against her, forehead resting on Yuna's shoulder. Yuna wraps both arms around her and squeezes. "You look completely destroyed," Yuna says cheerfully, kissing the top of her head.

"I feel completely destroyed. My head is splitting open. How are you like this? How are you awake and functional and loud?"

"Family talent," Yuna repeats.

"That's not a real thing."

"Drink coffee. It'll fix you." Yuna picks up her own mug and holds it to Yeji's lips. Yeji pushes it away.

“Don’t try to give me yours,” Yeji protests. “It’s got your germs.”

“Babe, we literally make out.”

"That's different." You pour Yeji a fresh cup and set it in front of her. She lifts her head from Yuna's shoulder, takes the mug with both hands, and sips. She closes her eyes. "Thank you," she says quietly. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Yuna and I were just talking."

"I was telling him," Yuna announces, bouncing her knee slightly so Yeji sways on her lap, "that the three of us need to actually do something together. Like, go out. Have fun. Now that the viper is no longer in our ecosystem, we can hang out without her calling every twenty minutes to check where he is and who he's with."

Yeji looks at you over the rim of her mug. "What do you think? Could be fun."

“I’m in,” you say, then shrug. “I guess.”

Yeji gives you a look. “Wow. You sound thrilled.”

You sigh, then straighten slightly. "I'm in. For real. Whatever you two want to do, I'm down."

Yuna's eyes light up so fast you can practically hear the gears clicking into place. "Okay so I've been thinking about this. There's this really cute Airbnb near the coast, right on the beach, this friend of a friend posted it on Instagram last week and it has this huge balcony with a grill and—"

"You've been planning this," Yeji says flatly.

"I have not been planning this. I am a spontaneous person who occasionally has well-researched ideas."

"You already looked up the Airbnb."

"I saved the listing. That's not planning, that's bookmarking." Yuna pulls out her phone and starts scrolling. "Look, it's gorgeous. Three bedrooms, right on the water, and it's actually affordable if we split it three ways. I'm talking sunset views, a fire pit, the whole thing."

Yeji leans over to look at the screen. You see something shift in her expression, the tiredness lifting just a little.

"It's actually nice," Yeji admits.

"The best trio in town is back together!" Yuna throws a fist in the air.

"Please do not shout. I am begging you. My head is going to explode."

"Sorry, sorry." Yuna kisses Yeji's forehead gently, then her temple, then the bridge of her nose. "The best trio in town is back together," she whispers.

Across the table, you smile, take a bite of toast, and let a quiet feeling return. Not happiness yet, but the faint outline of it, just beginning to form.

—

The Following Weekend

Through your sunglasses, the sun softens into amber, giving everything that faded, old-photo look. You're lying on a towel, sunglasses on, arms folded behind your head, and the umbrella overhead is casting this perfect circle of shade that covers you from the chest up. Below that, your legs are baking in direct sunlight, and you're completely fine with it. The sand underneath the towel is warm in a way that feels therapeutic.

You breathe in. Salt air, sunscreen, the faintest trace of grilled fish from somewhere down the beach. The breeze comes in off the water every few seconds, just cool enough to keep the heat from being oppressive. You can hear waves. You can hear seagulls being obnoxious about something. You can hear, faintly, Yuna screaming at the ocean from somewhere out in the water.

You can't remember the last time you spent a day outside like this. Not running errands, not walking to the convenience store. Actually outside, on purpose, doing nothing productive and feeling fine about it. Ryujin never liked the beach. Said sand got everywhere and the sun gave her headaches. You went along with it because you went along with everything. Now you're lying here thinking about how stupid that was, avoiding something you enjoy because someone else didn't want to be here.

You push that thought down. Not today.

A shadow falls over you and blocks the amber light. You tilt your sunglasses down and look up.

Yeji is standing there, dripping, silhouetted against the sky. She's wearing a simple black bikini and her body is doing most of the talking. Slim waist, toned legs, that specific kind of fit that comes from being naturally proportioned rather than grinding at the gym. Her blonde hair is wet and slicked back and her skin is glistening and she looks, objectively and indisputably, beautiful. Water runs in thin lines down her stomach and drips off her fingertips onto the sand.

She grabs her towel from the bag and dries her face, her arms, squeezes the water from her hair. Then she drops down next to you on the towel, lying on her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows.

"How's the water?" you ask.

"So good. Really refreshing. You should come in."

"I'm good here." You lace your fingers behind your head and settle deeper into the towel. "I'm doing my thing."

"Your thing is lying completely still and staring at the sky."

"Correct."

She just shakes her head, a smile on her face. You both look out at the ocean. Yuna is about fifty meters out, floating on her back with her arms spread wide like a starfish, completely motionless. The waves are gently rocking her and she looks like she's achieved some kind of enlightenment out there.

"She's having the best day of her life right now," you say.

Yeji laughs softly. "Yuna is always having the best day of her life. That's kind of her whole deal."

"Must be nice." You say it without any bitterness. You actually mean it. "I genuinely can't be sad around her. She radiates too much energy."

“She straight-up forbids it. Told me once she takes sadness personally.” Yeji rolls her eyes. “She’s insane. But it works.”

You watch a couple walk by near the water's edge. A kid further down the beach is trying to build something ambitious with a plastic bucket. Normal people doing normal things. It feels nice to be part of the scenery instead of hiding from it. Yeji stretches her arms above her head, arching her back, and then turns to you. "Can you put sunscreen on me? Yuna did it before but she basically slapped it on like she was buttering toast and then ran straight into the ocean."

"That tracks." You sit up and grab the sunscreen from the bag. Yeji turns so her back is facing you, pulling her wet hair over one shoulder. You squeeze a line of sunscreen across your palm and start working it into her shoulders. Her skin is warm from the sun and still slightly damp, and you can feel the ridge of her shoulder blades under your hands, the narrowness of her frame. She's thinner than you realized. Small, almost. Up close you can see a faint scattering of freckles across the backs of her shoulders that the sun is pulling out.

"Are you actually enjoying yourself today?" she asks while you work the sunscreen down her spine. "Tell me the truth. I don't want you to be here just because we asked and you didn't know how to say no. I know you."

"You do know me."

"That's not an answer."

You smooth the sunscreen across her lower back, careful and even. "I'm enjoying it. For real. I feel like my brain has slowed down for the first time in weeks. Usually it's going a hundred directions at once and I can't grab onto any one thought long enough to finish it. But here I can only think about one thing at a time."

"The beach does that," she says. "Something about the sound of the waves just turns everything else off."

"I think it's actually you and Yuna."

She turns her head slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Being around you two. Your presence just... makes everything quieter in here." You tap the side of your head with a sunscreen-covered finger and immediately regret it. "Shit."

Yeji snorts and turns around fully, reaching up and wiping the white smudge off your temple with her thumb. "You're cute. And also an idiot."

You huff a laugh. "Those two things are my entire personality."

“Sadly accurate,” she replies.

You finish with the sunscreen and cap the bottle. Right on cue, Yuna comes jogging up from the water, dripping everywhere, hair plastered to her face and neck. She's wearing a red bikini and somehow, after swimming for forty minutes, she looks like she just walked out of a music video. Legs that go on forever, a flat stomach with that belly button piercing catching the light, and a grin so wide it could sell toothpaste. She grabs a towel and wraps herself up like a burrito, plopping down next to both of you.

"Okay," she announces. "Plans. Tonight. I Googled and there's a lot going on near here. There's this really great steakhouse that has like four and a half stars, and there's a karaoke bar two blocks from our Airbnb, and there's a seafood restaurant that got written up in some food blog, and I also saw this cute little wine bar—"

"Yuna." Yeji holds up a hand. "We're not spending a fortune. Let's pick one thing. Something decent and within budget."

“You’re so cheap,” Yuna says, giving her a look.

Yeji barely glances at her. “It’s called being financially responsible.”

Yuna snorts. “Wow. You sound like my mom.”

Yeji shrugs. “Good. When we live together, I’m handling the budget. End of discussion.”

Yuna perks up immediately. "Speaking of which. When is that happening? You keep pushing it back."

Yeji sighs. "We still need to figure out the logistics. Whether we'd move into your apartment or stay at my place. Or find somewhere new entirely."

"I love your place," Yuna says without hesitation. "It's spacious, the kitchen is amazing, the neighborhood is great. I don't see the problem."

"The problem is I don't live alone, so—"

"It's fine." You cut in, and both of them look at you. "Seriously. Yuna's welcome. She basically lives there already. She has a toothbrush in the bathroom and her shampoo takes up the entire shower shelf."

Yuna points at you triumphantly. "See? He gets it."

"You're sure?" Yeji asks, studying your face.

"I'm sure. I like having her around. The apartment is better when it's loud."

Yeji goes quiet for a moment, thinking it over. “We’ll talk about it properly when we get home,” she says at last.

"Great. It's decided. For now—" She lunges for her bag and digs out her phone. "Selfie. The three of us. Right now." She grabs your arm and pulls you down until you're lying flat on the towel. Yeji lies down on your other side, pressing close. Yuna reaches over and plucks the sunglasses off your face.

"Hey—"

She slides them onto herself and holds the phone up above the three of you. You're in the middle, Yuna on your left with your stolen sunglasses and a wild grin, Yeji on your right with her wet blonde hair splayed out and a soft smile. "Everyone look hot," Yuna commands. "Three, two, one—" Click. "Okay, now a kissing one."

“A what?” you ask, blinking at her.

But Yuna is already pressing her lips to your left cheek. Yeji catches on without a beat and leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your right cheek. You feel the warmth of both of them on either side of your face, Yuna's lips slightly cold from the ocean, Yeji's warm and dry. Your expression in the photo is probably something between confusion and genuine happiness and you don't care.

Click. Yuna pulls the phone back and inspects the shot. "Oh my god. This is perfect. We look like a happy little throuple."

"Don't say that," Yeji mutters, but she's leaning over to look at the photo too, and she doesn't look bothered. She looks fond.

"It's true though. Look at us. We're adorable." Yuna saves the photo and drops her phone back in the bag. "Okay. One more swim, then food. I'm starving. Genuinely about to eat sand." She unwraps herself from the towel, tosses it dramatically over the bag, and takes off toward the water at a full sprint, leaping over someone's sandcastle on the way. The kid building it stares after her in shock.

Yeji watches her go, shaking her head. Then she reaches into the bag and pulls out her phone and her AirPods case. She opens it and holds one out to you. "Want to listen to something?"

"Yeah." You take the earbud and settle it in. She does the same with hers, scrolling through her phone until she finds the playlist. Your playlist. The one you two accidentally built over months of sharing songs back and forth, late nights in the kitchen, lazy Sunday mornings. She hits play and the first track starts, something mellow and warm, and you both lie back on the towel, shoulders almost touching, staring at the sky through the umbrella's shadow.

The waves surge forward and retreat again. Yuna shouts something lost to the wind and water. Music lingers in the silence between you and Yeji. You let your eyes fall shut and think of nothing in particular — just existing in the moment.

—

The rest of the day passes in a haze of sunlight and Yuna’s tireless energy. She sets a pace that would kill a marathon runner, bouncing from street to street with her phone out, filming everything, narrating stories for her ten thousand Instagram followers like she's hosting a travel show. "When I blow up," she says, angling her phone to catch the sunset behind a row of pastel-colored buildings, "and I will blow up, I'm going to look back at these early posts and cry. This is my origin story. Every influencer has one."

"You've been saying that for two years," Yeji says, walking beside her with her hands in the pockets of her shorts.

"Consistency is key,” Yuna declares. “That's literally what every podcast about success says. Also, when I'm a millionaire, you will never have to work again. I'll support you fully. You can just lie on the couch and read and be pretty."

"That sounds like my retirement plan anyway,” Yeji replies.

“See?” Yuna grins. “I’m already manifesting it.”

You trail behind them, quietly amused, watching Yuna turn everything into content. She films the street food vendor. She films a stray cat sitting on a wall. She films Yeji pretending to ignore the camera and then breaking into a reluctant smile. You stay out of frame mostly, which suits you fine. You've always been more comfortable observing than performing.

The aquarium was Yeji’s pick, and the change in her is immediate. Whatever exhaustion she had earlier vanishes the second you walk in. She makes her way from tank to tank with a kind of quiet fascination, pressing close, reading everything. When she gets to the jellyfish, she pauses completely, just stands there, eyes wide, taking in the slow, luminous movement. You linger behind her, watching, and the way she’s so effortlessly absorbed in something she loves catches you off guard, leaves you smiling.

“That one’s you,” Yuna says, appearing beside you and pointing at a clownfish darting around an anemone..

“And why is that supposed to be me?” you ask.

“Orange. Cute. A bit of a clown. Likes hiding in something bigger than itself,” she elaborates.

“Okay, ‘orange’ is already wrong. And I’m not a clown,” you argue.

She taps your shoulder. “It’s meant nicely,” she assures.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mumble.

“Still counts,” she replies.

Outside the aquarium, you're walking through a garden path that connects to the main boardwalk. Yeji is a few steps ahead, talking to Yuna about something. You notice a flower growing along the edge of the path, pale pink, delicate, bending slightly under its own weight. You slow down without thinking about it, crouch, and pick it carefully at the stem.

You close the gap to Yeji, and before she can turn around, you reach from behind and tuck the flower gently behind her ear, sliding it into place against her blonde hair. "A flower for a flower," you say casually.

Yeji reaches up to brush her fingers over it, a soft blush blooming on her cheeks as she dips her head.

"She looks beautiful," Yuna says softly from beside you. Yeji clears her throat and keeps walking, but her fingers stay near the flower for a long time after that, adjusting it, making sure it doesn't fall.

By the end of the afternoon you're carrying four shopping bags that don't belong to you. Two are Yuna's, filled with things she absolutely did not need but bought on principle because they were on sale. One is Yeji's, a single tasteful purchase wrapped in tissue paper. The fourth is also Yuna's and contains a hat she put on once, decided she looked "unhinged" in, and bought anyway. You're just the designated pack mule, apparently, but you find you don't really mind.

—

Dinner is at the seafood place because Yeji vetoed the steakhouse on budget grounds and you backed her up, and Yuna accepted defeat with minimal grumbling. The girls disappear into their room to get ready and come out looking like they belong on a red carpet. Yuna is in a short black dress and Yeji is in a fitted dark green top and a skirt that makes her legs look endless. You stare for a second too long and then busy yourself looking for your keys.

The food is incredible and the conversation flows easily, the three of you trading plates and stealing bites and arguing about whether octopus is ethical to eat. You land on the side of "probably not but it's too delicious to stop" and Yuna declares you a pragmatist, which she says is the sexiest type of intellectual.

After dinner, Yuna steers the group toward the karaoke bar despite Yeji's protests, and within twenty minutes you're in a private room with colorful lights bouncing off the walls and a beer in your hand and Yuna stands on the booth, singing Ed Sheeran at full volume into the mic, but all her focus is on Yeji. She’s delivering “Perfect” straight to her. Yeji covers her face with both hands but you can see her smiling through her fingers. Yuna drops to her knees on the booth cushion and serenades her from inches away, and Yeji finally breaks and laughs, pulling her in by the collar and kissing her to shut her up. You clap from your corner of the booth like you're watching the finale of a concert.

The drinks keep coming. You keep track of Yuna's intake the way you always do, nudging a glass of water toward her between rounds. “Drink that,” you tell her.

“I’m fine,” Yuna insists.

“Drink the water, Yuna,” you repeat, more pointed.

“You’re not my dad,” she shoots back.

“Drink it, or I’m cutting you off,” you warn. She drinks it, but she makes a face like you asked her to swallow medicine. Yeji catches your eye across the table and mouths thank you.

—

By the time you get back, Yuna can barely find the front door. She's leaning against you with one arm slung over your shoulder, giggling at something that happened forty minutes ago that wasn't even funny the first time. "Where are we," she mumbles as you guide her through the door. "Is this our house? Did we buy a house?"

“It’s the Airbnb,” you remind her.

"We should buy a house."

Yeji kicks off her heels and then kneels down to unbuckle Yuna's, pulling them off one at a time while Yuna sways above her. Yuna immediately walks to the living room and collapses face-first onto the fluffy rug in front of the couch. "I live here now," she announces into the rug.

Yeji sits down on the floor, leaning her back against the sofa, stretching her legs out. "We should shower and go to sleep. Today was long."

"No." Yuna rolls onto her back. "Let's talk."

"We can talk literally any time tomorrow. We have the whole day."

"It's different now." Yuna lifts a hand and gestures vaguely at the ceiling. "Late at night. It's more intimate. The defenses are down. We can be truly ourselves. Nighttime is truth time.”

"You're talking like a drunk philosopher."

You lower yourself onto the rug, lying on your back with your hands on your stomach. It’s incredibly soft under you. "She's got a point, actually."

Yeji looks at you. "Not you too."

"Remember when we both had insomnia? Those nights in the kitchen at like three AM?" You turn your head to look at her. "We talked about stuff we never talked about during the day. Real stuff. You told me about your dad. I told you about the panic attacks I used to get in college. We opened up more because something about that hour just makes honesty easier."

Yeji holds your gaze for a long beat. Then she sighs and lies down on the rug between you and Yuna, staring at the ceiling. "Fine. Thirty minutes. Then sleep.” Yuna nods obediently. “What do you want to talk about?" Yeji asks, folding her hands on her stomach.

"This," Yuna says.

"This what?"

"Exactly. Let's reflect a little." Yuna adjusts so she's lying on her side, facing both of you. Her makeup is slightly smudged and her hair is messy and she looks less like a force of nature and more like a girl on a rug in the middle of the night.

"When I started dating Yeji," she begins, "I knew she was the girl of my life. Like, immediately. First month in, I already knew. I just felt it. When I found out she was sharing a house with a guy, I was jealous. I'm not gonna lie. I pictured some dude trying to make moves on my girlfriend and I wanted to fight him."

"Understandable," you say.

"But then I met you, and you were just... you. This sweet, calm, nerdy dude who made us dinner and asked if I had food allergies." She smiles. "I adored you immediately. And I was happy, because Yeji had someone looking out for her when I wasn't there. That mattered to me."

"You make it sound very noble," Yeji murmurs. "You interrogated him for thirty minutes the first time."

"That was vetting. It's different."

You laugh quietly. "You literally asked me if I had a criminal record."

"And you didn't! So it worked out."

Yeji shakes her head against the rug, smiling. Yuna’s voice shifts as she looks up at the ceiling, her face taking on a seriousness she doesn’t show often. "Before Yeji, when I went out with guys, it always ended the same way. Things would be great at first, and then at some point they'd start trying to change me. My skirts were too short. I talked too much. I was too loud, too reckless, too dumb."

"You're not dumb," Yeji says immediately.

"I know I'm not, babe. But they made me believe I was. Over and over, different guys, same thing. And I started to think maybe they were right. Maybe I was just... too much." The room sits in silence, broken only by the ocean murmuring through the windows. "Then I met you," Yuna says, and she's looking at you. "And from day one, you were different. You let me into your space. Your home, your routine with Yeji, all of it. You didn't flinch when I was loud. You didn't roll your eyes when I talked too much. You cooked for me and asked what I liked and what I didn't like. You remembered that I hate mushrooms after I mentioned it one time." She pauses. "Girls notice that stuff. Those small things. They're not small to us."

"Yuna—" you start.

“Let me finish.” She draws in a steady breath. “Somewhere along the way, you became my friend too. One of the best I’ve ever had. And I’m about to say something I’d never admit if it weren’t one in the morning and I hadn’t had six drinks.” Your heart kicks against your ribs. Beside you, Yeji goes completely still.

“I was jealous of Ryujin,” she continues. “And I was angry at her, too. Because she had you — and she didn’t deserve you. I watched her treat you like an afterthought for years, and it drove me insane. I kept thinking… I could do better. I would do better. I could love you the way you deserved and actually make you happy.”

“Yuna,” you say, your heartbeat going oddly uneven.

"Your smile is precious. Do you know that? When you actually smile, it lights up your whole face and it makes everyone around you feel warm. And Ryujin almost killed that smile. She almost took it away completely."

You push yourself up onto your elbows. "Okay. That's... a lot. You're drunk. You're emotional. Maybe we should just go to—"

“I’m not that drunk,” she snaps.

"You asked if we bought a house fifteen minutes ago."

“I’m drunk enough to be honest and sober enough to mean it,” she says firmly. “I know what I'm saying.”

You look at Yeji for help, expecting her to step in, to redirect, to do the sensible thing she always does. "Yeji, she can't just... say that sort of thing around her girlfriend. Right? That's..."

"Why not?" Yuna asks. "Why can't I say it around her?"

"Because she's your girlfriend and you're saying you have feelings for me, and that's—"

"What if that's how she feels too?" Yuna's gaze shifts to Yeji. "Probably even more than I feel. Tell him, babe. Tell him I'm wrong."

The ocean outside keeps up its rhythm, waves rolling in and slipping back out, oblivious to whatever is happening on this rug. Yeji lies on her back, gaze fixed on the ceiling. She avoids Yuna completely. Slowly, she turns her head toward you. There’s no guard in her expression, just fragility, a hint of fear, and it’s a look you’ve never seen from her in all your years under the same roof.

“It’s true,” she says softly.

You swallow hard. Your throat feels tight and your brain is doing that thing where it tries to process seventeen thoughts at once and fails at all of them. You sit up on the rug and scratch the back of your head, staring at the floor between your knees. "I don't know what to say," you manage.

"You don't need to say anything," Yuna says gently. "We're not asking for a speech. We just... wanted to stop carrying this around. It's been heavy. For both of us. We're just confessing something we've kept to ourselves for a really long time, and now it's out, and we can handle these feelings like adults."

"Can we, though?" You let out a shaky laugh. "Because I'm not handling anything right now. I'm sitting on a rug having a minor cardiac event."

Yuna smiles softly. "That's a normal response."

She pushes herself upright and sits cross-legged on the rug, turning toward you. A strand of blonde hair gets tucked neatly behind her ear as she takes a quiet breath. "You and I have been friends since college," she starts. "Freshman year. That horrible statistics class. You sat next to me because every other seat was taken and you looked like you wanted to die, and I looked like I wanted to die, and somehow that was enough of a foundation to build an entire friendship on. After class we'd go get coffee, and I'd complain about whatever disaster my life was that week, and you'd sit there and listen. Every single time." She picks at a thread on the rug. "You were there for me during the worst period of my life. My parents' divorce, the thing with my sister, all of that happened sophomore year, and I genuinely do not know what that time would have looked like without you. I think about it sometimes. What if I'd sat in a different seat that first day. What if I'd skipped that lecture. I probably would have. I almost did."

"I'm glad you didn't," you say quietly.

"Me too." She pauses. "Back in the dorms, I had that roommate. Lia. She was fine. She was perfectly fine. She was clean, she was quiet, she went to sleep at ten and woke up at six and never once did anything interesting or annoying or memorable. And every night I'd come back from hanging out with you, and I'd lie on that tiny dorm bed staring at Lia's motivational poster about sunrises, and I'd think... I want to live with him instead."

“You never told me that,” you mutter.

"Because it's a weird thing to think about a guy you've known for six months. But I couldn't help it. Because it was always so easy with you." Her eyes are getting glassy now but she keeps going, keeps her composure. "I'd have the worst day. Bombed an exam, fought with my mom on the phone, whatever. And I'd text you, and we'd meet at that shitty café near campus, and within five minutes I'd be turning my problems into jokes. These horrible, self-deprecating, deeply unfunny jokes that somehow we both found hilarious. And you'd do the same thing. You'd tell me about your anxiety, or your family stuff, or whatever was eating at you, and you'd frame it as this absurd comedy, and we'd both just sit there laughing until we were crying, and the barista would look at us like we were insane."

"We were insane,” you argue.

"We were. It was this tragicomedy that only worked between us. Nobody else got it. I'd try to explain it to other people and they'd just stare at me." She wipes the corner of her eye with her thumb. "And then I'd go back to the dorm, back to Lia and her sunrise poster, and I'd lie there thinking... today wasn't so bad. Actually today was kind of great. All because of him."

Yuna stays perfectly still, her gaze on Yeji, tender and patient, as if she already knows every part of the story and treasures her more for sharing it.

"I kept thinking about what it would be like," Yeji continues. "To actually live with you. To build a routine. Our own little bubble. Where I could come home and you'd be there, and we'd cook dinner and talk about nothing and it would be enough." She laughs, small and wet. "And when I finally got the nerve to bring it up, I rehearsed it for a week. I had a whole pitch prepared. Rent split, chore schedule, noise rules. I was so scared you'd say no."

"You were shaking when you asked me," you recall. "I thought you were about to tell me someone died."

"I was terrified. And then you just said yes. Like it was obvious. Like of course you'd move in with me, why wouldn't you. And I went home that night and I cried in my car for twenty minutes because I was so happy."

"Yeji..."

"And it was perfect. It was everything I imagined. Better, even. The routine we built, the inside jokes, the way you'd leave coffee out for me in the morning even though you don't drink coffee yourself, you just made it because you knew I needed it. I didn't want anything to change. I thought, this is it. This is my life and it's good and I don't need anything else."

She goes quiet. You know what comes next.

"Then Ryujin showed up. And all that attention you gave me, the little things, the coffee, the cooking, the way you'd check on me when I was quiet for too long, all of that got redirected to her. And I understood it. You were in love. That's what people do. But she didn't earn it. She didn't deserve any of it. I watched her take everything you offered and treat it like it was nothing, like it was expected, and I was so angry. Not at you. At her. Because I knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of your kindness, and I knew she was wasting it."

“I knew you didn’t really like Ryujin,” you say. “She could be a little difficult, sure. But I had no idea it went beyond that. Why didn't you ever say anything?”

"Because there was too much to lose." She looks at you directly now. "If I told you how I felt and you didn't feel the same way, I'd lose the friendship. I'd lose the apartment. I'd lose you. And having you as my friend, having you in the next room, even if I couldn't have you the way I wanted, was still better than not having you at all. So I kept my mouth shut. And I watched Ryujin treat you like an option for years, and I respected your relationship even though it killed me. So I buried it. I buried it and I dated Yuna and I loved Yuna — I love Yuna — and I told myself that was the answer. That I'd gotten what I needed from a different place and the thing with you was just residual, some leftover attachment that would fade." She exhales. "It didn't fade."

Your hands are trembling. You look down at them and they're actually visibly shaking, your fingers twitching against your knees. Two girls. Two beautiful, incredible girls, lying on a rug in a rented apartment at one in the morning, telling you they love you. You have spent years believing that love was something you had to earn through constant effort, through bending yourself into shapes that fit someone else's expectations, and even then it wasn't enough. You weren't trained for this.

"I think I love you too," you say, and regret it immediately. "No. I don't think. I know. Sorry. I know I love you." You rub your face with both hands. "You were always everything I imagined in a perfect girl. You've always been this person I looked at and thought, she's too good. She's too smart, too funny, too kind, too beautiful. There's no way she'd ever look at me like that. So I convinced myself that what I felt was friendship. I categorized it, I filed it away, I told myself that's all it was because the alternative was too big and too scary."

"And Yuna." You turn to her. "You and Yeji are my favorite people. Both of you. I just... no girl has ever said these things to me before. Nobody has ever looked at me and said I was worth choosing. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."

Yuna sits up and scoots closer, resting her head against your shoulder. "You're starting to overthink again," she says. "I can hear the gears grinding from here. Don't do it. We're not asking you to solve a puzzle. We just want to know one thing. Do you want this? To belong to us. And to let us belong to you."

You look at Yeji. Tears are running silently down her cheeks, catching the low light. She reaches up and wipes one away with the heel of her hand.

"I know it's strange," she says, and her attempt at composure is barely holding. "But the three of us were never really normal. We never had a normal friendship, a normal living situation, a normal anything. Maybe this is just the next version of what we've always been." She sniffs. "It could work. If you want to try. But only if you actually want to, not because you feel pressured, not because you feel sorry for us, not because you think it's what we need to hear. I know you just got out of a relationship. I know you're still hurting. Maybe this wasn't the right time. Maybe Yuna was reckless bringing it up tonight."

"I was strategically brave," Yuna corrects quietly.

Yeji almost smiles. "Maybe this was terrible timing. And if you need time, we'll give you time. Nothing changes between us if you say no. I need you to know that."

Yuna's hand finds yours on the rug. Her fingers slip between yours. You look down at your intertwined hands. You look at Yeji, sitting there with tears on her face and her heart ripped open on the floor in front of you.

You squeeze Yuna's hand. "I love you both. We can figure this out, the three of us.” Yuna's grip tightens on your fingers. “The friendship doesn't end, it just... grows into something bigger. Something that's been trying to happen for a long time, I think. And I promise I won't mess it up. I'll figure it out as I go, but I won't mess it up."

Yuna lifts her head from your shoulder and presses a long, firm kiss to your cheek. "Just keep being who you are," she murmurs against your skin. "That's what we fell for. Don't try to become someone else. You do that. You adjust yourself for people. Not with us."

Then Yuna looks over at Yeji and gives her a small nod. A little tilt of her chin that says go.

Yeji shifts forward on the rug, closing the distance between you on her knees. She stops right in front of you, close enough that you can see the tear tracks drying on her cheeks, close enough that you can smell her perfume underneath the salt and alcohol. She places both hands on your shoulders, her fingers curling lightly into the fabric of your shirt.

She looks into your eyes as if she’s saving the moment for later. "I guess it's time to find out if you're a good kisser," she says, aiming for nonchalance, her trembling hands betraying her.

"If I'm bad at it, lie," you tell her. "I'm emotionally fragile right now. I cannot handle criticism."

She laughs. It breaks out of her wet and bright, cracking through the tears, and it lights up her whole face. "Deal," she manages.

She takes one more breath. Her fingers tighten on your shoulders. And then she closes the distance all at once, pressing her lips to yours like she's afraid she'll lose her nerve if she hesitates for even a second longer. It begins lightly, careful even, before something in her gives way; she leans in with her full weight, hands slipping up to your jaw and cheeks, pulling you closer. Her mouth opens against yours and you taste salt from her tears and the faint sweetness of whatever she drank tonight and underneath all of it just Yeji. Her tongue meets yours, the kiss turns deeper, more urgent, more raw. She presses into you, leaning forward until you lose your balance and fall back onto the rug with Yeji above you.

She doesn't stop. She kisses you with her full body, her hands cradling your face, her hips settling against yours, her chest pressed flat to your chest. Years of restraint unraveling in real time. You hold her waist, your fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt, and you kiss her back with everything you've been pretending was friendship. When your lips finally part, you're both breathing hard. Yeji stays on top of you, her forehead resting against yours, her thumbs stroking your cheekbones.

"So?" Yuna asks from somewhere to your left. "Scale of one to ten. How's the kiss?"

Yeji doesn't look away from you. "Ten," she says softly.

"Are you being sincere or just being nice?" you ask, your hands still on her waist.

She touches her nose to yours. Her eyes are red and swollen and shining and she's smiling so wide it looks like it hurts. "I have never been so sincere in my life," she says. Then she kisses you again, light and fleeting, as if to seal it.

Yuna watches from the side with her chin resting on her fist, grinning like she just orchestrated a heist. Which, in a way, she kind of did. "I think," she announces, "that I deserve a kiss too. As a reward. For saving the night."

Yeji, still hovering close to you, shoots her a look. "You almost ruined everything."

"Almost is the key word there. My intuition never fails me." She shrugs, unbothered. "I read the room. I made the move. I was right. You're welcome."

Yeji rolls her eyes but shifts to the side, giving Yuna space. Yuna crawls across the rug toward you on her hands and knees, stopping right in front of your face. From this close, her eyes shine with alcohol, hazy on the surface but focused underneath, fixed on you. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this," she murmurs. "But it feels so right that I don't even care."

She kisses you. And where Yeji's kiss was emotional, layered with years of restraint finally breaking open, Yuna's kiss is heat. Pure, immediate, consuming heat. She grabs the front of your shirt and pulls you in, and her mouth is confident and demanding, her tongue sliding against yours without any hesitation. She kisses with full intensity, no filter, no holding back. Your hand instinctively goes to the back of her neck and she makes a low, satisfied sound against your lips.

When she pulls back, she bites down on your lower lip and tugs it gently, releasing it slowly. She holds eye contact the entire time, and the look on her face makes your heart slam against your ribs. "Ryujin will never have you back now," she says, still inches from your mouth. "Even if she begged."

You turn to Yeji, still catching your breath. "So? Was that weird for you? Watching your girlfriend kiss me?"

Yeji holds your gaze for a long moment, her face unreadable, before she says flatly, “That actually turned me on a lot.”

"Yes!" Yuna throws both fists up. "Triple kiss. Right now. Let's go."

They both move toward you and you hold up your hands. "Full disclosure, I have never done a three-way kiss before. I don't know the logistics."

"Don't worry about logistics." Yuna grabs one side of your face and Yeji takes the other. "We'll teach you everything. Throughout this entire relationship, we are going to corrupt your purity in every single imaginable way."

“That sounds like both a promise and a threat,” you murmur, smiling despite yourself.

The triple kiss is awkward at first. Someone's nose bumps someone else's chin. Yuna giggles against your mouth and the vibration throws Yeji off and then all three of you are laughing, foreheads pressed together, trying again. The alcohol in their systems isn't exactly helping with coordination. But then Yuna tilts her head just right and Yeji adjusts and suddenly all three mouths find each other and it clicks. Three tongues, three sets of lips, this strange and messy tangle that shouldn't work but does. It's weird. It's incredibly hot. You feel Yuna's teeth graze your lip at the same time Yeji's tongue brushes yours and your brain short-circuits for a solid three seconds.

When you all break apart, breathing heavy, Yuna runs her hand slowly across your chest. Her fingers trace the line of your collarbone through your shirt, then down your sternum. "So," she says, her palm flat against your chest, feeling your heartbeat. "Since we're all clearly horny for each other and the vibes are immaculate... how about we find out what our chemistry is like in bed?"

"Subtle," Yeji says.

"I'm not trying to be subtle. I'm trying to get laid. Drunken sex is way better as a threesome."

Yeji narrows her eyes. "How would you know that?"

"I heard about it," Yuna says way too quickly. "From a friend. Moving on."

Yeji turns to you, checking in. "What do you think?"

You glance at Yuna, then at Yeji; two stunning girls, cheeks warm, eyes a little hazy, both of them fixed on you like nothing else exists. And they've just said they love you. You let that hang for a second before you smile. “Well,” you say, “if we’ve come this far… we might as well see it through.”

Yuna pumps her fist. The three of you stand up, Yuna swaying dangerously and grabbing your arm for balance.

You end up in the girls' room because it has the biggest bed, a king-size with white sheets that looks almost absurdly inviting.

You start unbuttoning your shirt, fingers working down the front. "Quick question. Are there condoms here?"

Yuna, already pulling her dress over her head, pauses with the fabric bunched around her shoulders. "Normally it's not necessary between the two of us. If you catch my drift."

"So... raw?"

"Drunken, raw sex." She gets the dress off and tosses it somewhere behind her. "It's the perfect combination."

"You're insane," Yeji says, unzipping her skirt.

"Everyone calls me insane, but nobody ever applauds my foresight." Yuna holds up a finger. "I prudently purchased emergency contraception pills in advance. In case my plan worked."

Yeji freezes mid-zip. "You actually bought them?"

"Of course I bought them. This was all part of my foolproof plan." She gestures at the three of you. "Step one, confess feelings. Step two, make out. Step three, have incredible sex. Step four, morning-after pill. I am a responsible adult."

"You can’t even remember your own anniversary," Yeji scoffs.

"I’m selectively responsible," Yuna shoots back. “Now hush and strip.”

You pull your shirt off over your head, then undo your belt and step out of your pants. The girls are undressing across from you. Yeji unhooks her skirt and lets it drop, standing in a matching black bra and panties, her body slim and defined, her waist pulling in neatly and her shoulders subtly strong. At a glance she looks delicate, but there’s clear muscle in her arms and a firm, flat stomach with the slightest hint of abs from workouts she never mentions. The lamplight catches on her collarbones, highlighting their shape.

Yuna’s next to her wearing only panties, no bra — naturally. She’s built on long, clean lines, her torso slim before it flares into rounded hips that give her shape. Her legs are long and toned, almost exaggerated in length, and her waist narrows sharply above them, tying it all together. Her breasts are small and perky, nipples already stiff in the cool air, and she stands there with zero self-consciousness, one hand on her hip.

"Surprised?" Yuna says, gesturing at her bare chest.

"Not really," Yeji replies, reaching behind her own back to unclasp her bra. "You could literally see your nipples through the fabric of that dress all night."

"That was intentional." Yuna reaches over and helps Yeji slide the bra straps down her arms. Yeji's breasts are similar in size, small and firm, proportional to her slender frame. The two of them stand there topless, shoulder to shoulder, looking at you sitting on the edge of the bed in your underwear.

"By the way," Yuna tilts her head, "have you two ever seen each other naked before?"

You and Yeji both say "No" at the same time.

"Actually," Yeji corrects, "I saw you in a towel once. That’s as far as we’ve gotten."

"You walked in early," you point out. "I had no idea you were home. That hardly counts."

"I know," she says simply, eyes lingering on you. "Still stuck with me, though.”

"You're blushing," Yuna observes with delight.

"Yeah? And whose fault is that?" you mutter. Yuna just smiles, amused.

You draw in a slow breath, trying to steady yourself, but it doesn’t really help. The two of them are right there, framed by the soft spill of bedroom light, and the reality of it presses in all at once. You glance between them, a little lost, a little overwhelmed.

"I—" you start, then stop, a quiet, almost nervous laugh slipping out. "You’re… both of you, you’re seriously the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen." It comes out unpolished, honest to a fault. You shake your head faintly, trying to catch up with your own words. "I don’t even know how I’m supposed to act right now.”

They exchange a glance. Then they walk toward you together, and Yuna puts her hand on your chest and pushes gently. "Hey," she murmurs, "relax. You’re overthinking it." Her thumb brushes lightly where her hand rests. "You're here specifically to avoid doing that, remember?"

You huff a quiet breath, nodding. "Yeah… You're right, I was overthinking. Sorry. Kinda automatic at this point."

Yuna's eyes soften. "It’s just us. Same chemistry as always." A faint grin. "Just go with it.”

“Okay, ma’am.”

They both smile and climb onto the bed on either side of you and pull you down onto your back. Immediately it becomes a tangle of mouths and hands, lips finding lips, tongues meeting, a three-way rotation that has no structure and doesn't need one. You kiss Yeji while Yuna bites your earlobe. You kiss Yuna while Yeji drags her lips across your jaw. Your hands explore both of them, sliding over warm skin, the dip of Yuna's waist, the ridge of Yeji's hip bone. You cup both of their breasts, one in each palm, feeling how similar they are in size, small enough to fit perfectly in your hands. You squeeze gently and Yuna arches into your touch while Yeji lets out a slow breath against your neck.

You turn to Yuna and take her breast into your mouth, your tongue circling her nipple, sucking gently at first, then harder. She tangles her fingers in your hair and grips, pulling your head closer.

"Fuck, that feels good," she breathes, her hips shifting against the mattress.

Meanwhile, Yeji's mouth finds your neck and she kisses a trail down to your collarbone, her teeth grazing the skin just enough to make you shiver. Her hand slides down your chest, your stomach, tracing the waistband of your underwear before pressing flat against the hard outline of your cock through the fabric. She feels you throb against her palm and her fingers curl around the shape of you through the cotton.

When you release Yuna's breast, she's already pushing your shoulder down until you're flat on your back. Each girl is on one side of you now, propped up on their elbows, and they both reach for your waistband at the same time. They tug your underwear down together, Yuna pulling one side, Yeji the other, working them past your hips and down your thighs until you kick them off the rest of the way.

Your cock stands fully hard against your stomach, thick and flushed. Yuna stares at it. Then she wraps her fingers around the shaft and gives one slow, experimental stroke. "Okay, wow. This is a trustworthy husband's dick right here." She strokes again, measuring. "Perfect size. Perfect thickness. Like it was engineered."

"Thank you," you manage. "I think."

"I haven't held a real cock in so long," she says, almost wistfully. "I've just been sucking on strap-ons."

"Please don't make me insecure about not having a real penis," Yeji says dryly.

"Never, babe." Yuna leans over and gives Yeji a quick kiss. "I love your pussy. Wouldn't trade it for anything in this world." She turns back to your cock, stroking it slowly from base to tip. "But also, this is really nice. Yeji, get him wet for me."

Both girls shift downward on the bed, settling between your legs. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch, because there is no universe in which you're going to miss this. Yuna on your left, Yeji on your right, both of their faces inches from your cock, their breath warm against the sensitive skin.

You tremble when the first mouth makes contact. It's Yeji, pressing her lips softly to the underside of your shaft, just below the head. A gentle, almost experimental kiss. Then Yuna mirrors her on the other side, her lips dragging slowly along the length, planting a trail of wet kisses from base to tip. They take their time, savoring, exploring. Yeji's tongue traces a long, flat stripe up one side while Yuna's tongue follows the same path on the other. When they reach the tip, their tongues meet, swirling around the head together, lapping at the sensitive underside where the frenulum is, and the sight alone nearly breaks you. Two beautiful girls, cheek to cheek, their lips glistening, taking turns flicking their tongues across the slit.

"You're twitching already," Yuna murmurs against your skin. "We barely started."

"Give him a break," Yeji says, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your cock. "He's been in a monogamous relationship for years. This is probably a lot."

"It's a lot," you confirm.

Yuna grins and wraps her lips around the head, just the tip, sucking gently. She holds it there, her tongue circling lazily inside her mouth, and your hips jerk involuntarily. She pulls off with a wet sound and looks up at you through her lashes. "Sensitive boy," she teases.

"Can you blame me?"

"Not even a little,” Yuna concedes.

Yeji takes her turn, sliding her lips over the head and sinking down slowly, taking you inch by inch. She's meticulous about it, controlled, her mouth tight and wet as she works her way down the shaft. She gets about halfway before pulling back, dragging her lips along the length, leaving a trail of spit that catches the lamplight. She strokes you with one hand, twisting gently on the upstroke, and leans in to press her tongue flat against the underside.

"Okay," you breathe. "Okay, that's really good."

“Yeah?” Yeji lifts her gaze to meet yours, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Really good,” you murmur.

Yuna bumps her shoulder against Yeji’s. “Move over. Let me show you how to ruin him.”

“I’m doing fine,” Yeji insists.

“You’re doing great, babe,” she counters, smirking. “But I’m about to be legendary.” Yuna takes your cock in her hand and angles it toward her mouth, looking up at you one more time. "Hold my hair."

You gather Yuna's long dark hair in your fist, pulling it back from her face, and she sinks down on you without any preamble. Deep. Her lips stretch around your shaft as she takes you further than Yeji did, further than you expected, until you feel yourself hitting the back of her throat. She gags slightly but doesn't pull off. Instead she adjusts her angle and pushes further, her throat constricting around the head of your cock, and the pressure is so intense your hand tightens in her hair involuntarily.

"Fuck," you whisper.

She holds you there for a long beat, then pulls back slowly, a thick string of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. She strokes you through the mess, slick and filthy, and grins up at you with watery eyes. "Told you," she rasps. "Legendary."

Meanwhile, Yeji shifts lower. You feel her lips press against the base of your shaft, then lower still, kissing a path down to your balls. She takes one into her mouth gently, rolling it with her tongue, and the combination of Yeji's mouth down there and Yuna's hand still stroking your shaft in long, lazy pulls makes you grip the sheets with your free hand. "You two are going to kill me."

"What a way to go, though," Yuna says, then takes you back into her mouth. This time she bobs her head with purpose, setting a rhythm, her lips sealed tight around you as she works up and down. The sounds are obscene, wet and sloppy, and she's making no effort to keep it quiet. Every time she pulls up, she swirls her tongue around the head before sinking back down, and her hand follows her mouth, stroking whatever she can't reach.

Below her, Yeji is lavishing attention on your balls, alternating between them, sucking gently, her tongue tracing the sensitive skin. Occasionally her tongue slides up to meet Yuna's lips on the shaft and they overlap for a second, licking the same spot together, and it sends a jolt through your entire body every single time it happens.

"Look at me," Yuna says, pulling off you with a gasp. Your cock is dripping, absolutely coated in spit, throbbing against your stomach. She strokes it slowly, keeping you right on edge. "Do you like watching us share your cock?"

"That's a stupid question,” you mutter, breath uneven.

"Answer it anyway."

"Yes. Obviously yes,” you confess.

"Good boy." She leans down and runs her tongue from the base all the way to the tip, excruciatingly slow. Yeji comes up from below and does the same on the other side, and they meet at the head again, their tongues tangling around you. Yuna cups the back of Yeji's head and pulls her in, and for a moment they're kissing each other with your cock pressed between their lips, their tongues sliding over you and over each other, and you have to look away at the ceiling for a second because the sight alone is too much to handle.

"He looked away," Yuna laughs.

"Don't look away," Yeji says softly, and something about the way she says it, quiet and a little commanding, makes you look back immediately. She holds your gaze and drags her tongue across the head of your cock, slow and teasing, never breaking eye contact.

"Okay, that was hot," Yuna admits. "Do that again." Yeji does it again. You grip the sheets harder.

They switch. Yeji takes the shaft this time, her mouth bobbing steadily while Yuna goes low, mouthing at your balls, sucking one in and humming against the sensitive skin. Yeji's rhythm is different from Yuna's. More measured, more precise. She finds the spots that make you twitch and revisits them methodically, her tongue hitting the same nerve over and over until you're practically shaking. Yuna's hand reaches up and wraps around the base, stroking in sync with Yeji's mouth.

"You're getting really hard," Yeji notes, pulling off to catch her breath. She presses her cheek against your shaft, feeling you pulse against her skin. "Like, noticeably harder than a minute ago."

"Is that a complaint?"

"It's an observation." She licks a long stripe up the side. "I like it."

Yuna resurfaces, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. She admires the mess they've made, your cock slick and glistening, spit dripping down the shaft and pooling at the base.

"I think he's wet enough," she announces, giving you one final stroke that makes your cock jump. She sits up and pushes her hair out of her face. "Babe, did you bring the strap like I asked?"

Yeji pulls off you and wipes her mouth. "It's in the suitcase."

"Go get it." Yeji climbs off the bed, her legs a little unsteady, and crosses the room to the suitcase in the corner. She crouches down and unzips it, rummaging through folded clothes.

"You packed that for a beach trip," you say.

Yeji doesn't even look at you. "Yuna told me to."

"And aren't you glad she did," Yuna says, turning to you. She shifts on the bed, propping herself on one elbow, and the lamp catches the sheen of spit still glistening on her lips. "So. Let me explain how things usually work between us. Your best friend — sweet, thoughtful, reads-before-bed Yeji — likes to be the top. She's a control freak in every area of her life, and the bedroom is no exception. She runs the show. Sets the pace. Decides when, where, and how hard."

"I'm standing right here," Yeji calls from across the room.

"And she's amazing at it," Yuna continues, ignoring her. "And I, personally, love nothing more than doing exactly what a pretty girl tells me to do. It's a perfect system." She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slides them down her long legs, kicking them off the edge of the bed. She's completely naked now, all smooth skin and sharp hip bones and those endless legs stretched out beside you. She tosses the panties somewhere behind her without looking.

Yeji returns to the bed holding a black harness with a silicone cock attached, a realistic-looking one, matte black, curved slightly. She kneels on the mattress and holds it up. "Are you thinking DP?”

"Yes," Yuna confirms sweetly. "But prep me first. I want to enjoy it."

"Lube or mouth?" Yeji asks, already stepping into the harness and pulling the straps up her thighs. There's something about the visual — Yeji, delicate and fine-boned, with that thing strapped to her — that keeps your eyes glued to her.

"Mouth," Yuna says. "Please. Infinitely better."

Yeji smiles, tightening the last strap. "Get into position then."

Yuna turns to you and throws a leg over your hips, straddling you. She reaches back and takes your cock in her hand, still soaked from the blowjob, and positions the head at her entrance. She rubs it against her slit a few times, coating herself with the mixture of saliva and her own wetness, and you feel how hot she is, how slick. "While Yeji gets me ready back there," Yuna says, looking down at you, "I'm going to get used to this. I want to know what you feel like inside me."

She sinks down onto you. Slowly. Inch by inch. Her lips part and her eyes flutter shut as your cock stretches her open, her pussy gripping you tight. She takes a shaky breath when she bottoms out, her hips flush against yours, every inch of you buried inside her.

"Fuck," she exhales. "Fuck, you're thick."

"You okay?"

"More than okay." She rolls her hips experimentally, adjusting. "Your cock fits me so well. God. I needed this."

She leans forward and lies flat against your chest, her small breasts pressing against your skin, her face tucked into your neck. The angle changes and you both feel it, your cock shifting deeper inside her. You hold her waist with both hands and start moving, slow and steady, rocking your hips upward in shallow thrusts. "You're so tight," you murmur into her hair.

"All for you, babe," she breathes against your throat.

Behind Yuna, Yeji kneels on the mattress between your spread legs. She runs her hands up the backs of Yuna's thighs, admiring the view: Yuna impaled on your cock, her ass raised slightly, completely exposed. Yeji takes both of Yuna's cheeks in her hands and spreads them apart. "Ready?" Yeji asks.

"Please," Yuna whispers into your neck. Yeji leans in and presses her tongue flat against Yuna's ass. The effect is instant. Yuna shudders on top of you, a full-body tremor that you feel through your cock, her pussy clenching around you involuntarily. "Oh fuck," she gasps. "Oh, that's so good."

You keep fucking her slowly from below, your hands gripping her waist, while Yeji works her tongue in tight circles. She knows exactly what she's doing back there. She traces the rim with the tip of her tongue, then presses in gently, then pulls back to lick in long flat strokes. Every time she pushes deeper, Yuna tightens around your cock and her nails dig into your shoulders.

"She's so good at that," Yuna pants against your chest. "You have no idea. Her tongue is fucking incredible."

"I can feel what she's doing to you," you say, because every time Yeji does something with her mouth, Yuna's pussy responds, clenching and relaxing in waves around your shaft.

"Yeji, right there," Yuna moans, pushing her hips backward into Yeji's face. "Right there, don't stop."

Yeji grips Yuna's hips to hold her steady and works her tongue with focused intensity, alternating between broad licks and pointed pressure, getting her wet and relaxed. You feel Yuna slowly loosening up, her body surrendering to the double sensation of your cock inside her pussy and Yeji's tongue in her ass. She's melting on top of you, her breath hot and ragged against your neck, her fingers curling and uncurling against your chest.

"More," Yuna begs softly. "Give me more."

Yeji responds by pressing her tongue deeper, working past the resistance, and Yuna buries her face in your shoulder and trembles. You thrust up into her slowly, matching Yeji's rhythm, and for a long, suspended moment the three of you find a pace together. Your cock pushing into Yuna from below. Yeji's tongue working her open from behind. Yuna caught between you both, drowning in it.

"This is perfect," Yuna breathes, barely audible. "This is so fucking perfect. Don't stop. Either of you. Please don't stop.”

Yeji keeps working Yuna's ass with her tongue, long and thorough, her hands gripping Yuna's cheeks apart while she licks and presses and circles with a focus that tells you she's done this dozens of times. She knows every response, every twitch, every shift in Yuna's breathing. When Yuna clenches, Yeji slows down. When Yuna pushes back, Yeji gives her more. It's practiced and instinctual at the same time, and the way Yuna is melting on top of you makes it clear that Yeji has turned this into something close to an art form.

"You want to know a secret about your girl here?" Yeji says, pulling back just enough to talk while her thumb traces lazy circles against Yuna's slick rim. She's looking at you over Yuna's arched back, her lips wet. "In bed is the only time she actually listens. The only time in her entire life she does what she's told."

Yuna whimpers against your chest.

"Look at her," Yeji continues, pressing her thumb gently against the loosened ring of muscle. "Completely surrendered. And I haven't even started fucking her yet. She gets like this every time. All that big energy, all that loud mouth, and all I have to do is get my tongue in her ass and she turns into the most obedient little thing you've ever seen."

"It's true," Yuna mumbles into your skin, her hips rocking in small circles, grinding your cock deeper inside her pussy. "She owns me in bed. I can't help it."

"You don't want to help it," Yeji corrects. She leans back in and gives Yuna one more long, slow lick that makes her whole body shiver.

You keep your thrusts shallow and steady from below, holding Yuna's waist, feeling her pulse around you every time Yeji does something with her mouth. The three of you have found this rhythm that keeps building without rushing anywhere.

Yuna lifts her head from your chest, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy. "Can I ask you something kind of funny?"

"Right now?"

"When is there a better time? You're inside me, we're bonding." She rolls her hips and your cock shifts and you both react to it. "Have you ever heard us having sex? Through the walls?"

You laugh, a little breathless. "At the beginning of your relationship, yeah. When you'd come home drunk, I'd hear things. Sounds. Through the wall."

"What kind of sounds?" Yuna grins.

"Sounds I was not trying to identify. I'd just put on headphones and fall asleep listening to music."

"That's so sweet," Yuna says. "Respecting our privacy like that. A true gentleman."

Yeji pauses her work behind Yuna and rests her chin on Yuna's lower back. "The next morning I would wake up and remember the noises we made the night before and I couldn't even look at him at breakfast. I'd just stare at my coffee and pray he didn't bring it up."

"I never brought it up."

"I know. That made it worse, somehow. The politeness was deafening."

"Well," Yuna says, pushing her hips back toward Yeji, "now we can be as loud as we want. No more headphones. No more awkward breakfasts. Full volume."

Yeji's hand comes down on Yuna's ass in a crisp, measured slap that echoes in the room. Yuna gasps and then laughs, pressing her forehead to your chest. "I had to buy a gag," Yeji tells you casually, running her palm over the pink mark she just left. "To keep her quiet. She's the loudest person I've ever slept with."

"In my defense," Yuna says, lifting her head again, "I look really sexy with the gag on."

"She does," Yeji confirms.

Yuna props herself up on your chest, looking down at you with her hair falling around both your faces. She's smiling that wild smile. "Isn't this cool, though? The three of us, just hanging out, talking, having fun. A threesome is basically a friend hangout. Same energy, same conversation. The only difference is there's a cock in my pussy and your best friend's tongue was just in my ass."

"You have such a way with words."

"Thank you, I've been told I'm eloquent."

Yeji sits up behind Yuna and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She runs her fingers lightly over Yuna's ass, testing the looseness, pressing gently. "I think she's ready. It's not like it's her first time anyway."

"Not even close," Yuna confirms. She adjusts herself on top of you, lying flat against your chest so that her back arches and her ass rises, presenting herself. The change in angle opens her up even more, and you can feel how wet she is around your cock, slick and hot and gripping you with every small shift of her hips.

"Stay still for a second," Yeji tells both of you. Her tone has shifted. It's not harsh, but there's an authority in it that wasn't there before.

You feel the mattress shift as Yeji positions herself on her knees behind Yuna. She grips the base of the strap-on with one hand and guides the tip to Yuna's ass, pressing gently against the loosened entrance. Yuna takes a breath against your chest.

"Relax, baby," Yeji murmurs. "Open up for me."

Yuna exhales, long and slow, and you feel her body soften on top of you. Yeji pushes forward. The head of the strap-on presses past the initial resistance and Yuna's fingers curl against your chest, gripping your skin. Through the thin wall separating Yuna's pussy and her ass, you feel the strap-on sliding in. The pressure against the underside of your cock is immediate and intense, this firm fullness pushing against you through Yuna's body.

"Oh god," Yuna whispers. "Oh fuck. Go slow."

"I always go slow," Yeji says, easing another inch in. "I've got you. Just breathe." Yuna breathes. You hold her waist and stay still, letting her adjust, feeling the strap-on settle deeper until you sense Yeji's hips press flush against Yuna's ass. She's fully inside. Both of you are fully inside. Yuna is stretched around two cocks and her entire body is trembling against yours. "Tell me when," Yeji says.

Yuna takes three shaky breaths. Then she nods against your chest. "Move. Both of you. Please."

Yeji starts first. She pulls back slowly and pushes forward again, a measured stroke that sends a ripple of pressure through Yuna's body that you feel directly against your cock. You begin matching her, thrusting up from below on alternating strokes, so that when Yeji pushes in, you pull back, and when you push up, she pulls out. The rhythm takes a few seconds to find, but once it clicks, once the two of you sync up, Yuna exhales something low and raw.

"Fuck," she gasps. "Fuck, fuck, that's so good."

"There she goes," Yeji says, gripping Yuna's hips from behind and thrusting a little faster. "There's my noisy girl."

"I can't help it. You're both filling me up. I feel so fucking full."

"You love it," Yeji says.

"I love it. I love it so fucking much."

You grip Yuna's waist tighter and pick up your pace from below, driving deeper into her pussy, and the friction of the strap-on against you through her body adds this extra layer of pressure that has your own toes curling. Yuna is caught between the two of you, getting fucked from both ends, and she's lost in it. Her nails dig into your shoulders. Her mouth hangs open against your collarbone. Her hips rock between you and Yeji, pushing back to take the strap deeper, then grinding forward to take your cock to the hilt.

"What's it feel like, baby?" Yeji asks, her hands sliding up Yuna's sides. "Tell us."

"Full," Yuna moans. "So full. Your cock feels so good in my ass, babe. And his cock is so deep in my pussy I can feel it in my stomach."

You thrust up harder and she cries out, her back arching.

"And you," Yuna pants, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes. "You're hitting every spot. Your dick is perfect. It's so thick and it stretches me out so good. Ryujin was insane for letting this go."

"Focus," Yeji says from behind, snapping her hips forward with a thrust that makes Yuna jolt. "Don't talk about her. Talk about us."

"Sorry, sorry. You're right. Just you two. Only you two." Yuna bites her lip and pushes back into Yeji's stroke. "Yeji, harder. Please. Fuck my ass harder."

"Ask nicely."

"Please, babe. Please fuck my ass harder. I'll be good. I'll be so good for you."

Yeji obliges. She grips Yuna's hips and starts driving into her with real force, the strap-on sinking deep on every stroke, and the sound of Yeji's hips slapping against Yuna's ass fills the room. You match her intensity from below, thrusting up into Yuna's soaking pussy, and Yuna's moans climb in pitch and volume until she's not holding anything back anymore.

"Oh god! Oh fuck! I'm going to cum. You're both going to make me cum so hard."

"Good," Yeji says, breathless now, sweat beading on her forehead. "Cum for us, baby. Moan for us. Moan like the pretty little slut you are." She looks at you over Yuna's shoulder. "Help me make her cum. Fuck her hard. Make our girl scream."

Our girl. Something about those two words settles deep under your skin. You grab Yuna's hips from below and drive up into her, hard, fast, angling your cock to drag against her front wall on every stroke. Yeji matches you thrust for thrust from behind, and Yuna is trapped between the two of you getting absolutely ruined and loving every second of it.

"Right there," Yuna gasps. "Right there, both of you, don't stop, please don't stop, I'm so close, I'm so fucking close, please, please, please—"

Her whole body locks up. Her thighs clamp against your sides. Her nails rake down your chest and her pussy clamps so tight around your cock it's almost painful. She screams. Loud enough that you're grateful this is an Airbnb and not a hotel, her body convulsing between the two of you as the orgasm rips through her. Yeji keeps thrusting through it, slower now, drawing it out, and you keep your cock buried deep inside her while her walls pulse and spasm around you.

When it finally fades, Yuna collapses against your chest, boneless, breathing in ragged bursts. She laughs. This incredulous, disbelieving laugh that bubbles up from somewhere deep. "Holy shit," she whispers. "That was the best orgasm I've ever had. I'm not being dramatic. That was genuinely the best one. I think I blacked out for a second."

Yeji slowly, carefully pulls the strap-on out of Yuna's ass. Yuna winces slightly and then sighs, her body going fully limp on top of you. Your cock is still inside her, throbbing, painfully hard. You were so close.

"She almost made me cum," you breathe.

Yuna grins lazily against your chest. She lifts herself off your cock slowly, gasping as you slide out, and rolls onto her back beside you. Your cock stands rigid and dripping, coated in Yuna's wetness, pulsing with every heartbeat. "Yeji, baby. Help our boy out. He earned it."

Yeji unstraps the harness and drops it off the side of the bed. She crawls toward you, and you watch her approach, this beautiful girl with her blonde hair messed up and her eyes hungry. She kneels beside you and wraps her hand around your cock, slick with Yuna's arousal, and starts stroking. Firm, steady, twisting at the head on every upstroke.

"Sit up a little," Yuna murmurs, scooting closer until your cock hovers directly over her chest. She looks up at you and Yeji with that fucked-out, blissful expression. "I want to feel it. Cum on me."

Yeji strokes you faster, her grip tightening, her thumb swiping across the sensitive underside of the head. She leans in close to your ear and says, low and commanding, "Cum for us. Give it to her."

Your hips buck into Yeji's fist and it hits you all at once. The orgasm tears through your entire body, starting at the base of your spine and radiating outward until your vision goes white. You cum hard. Harder than you've ever cum in your life. The first rope of cum lands thick and hot across Yuna's breasts, followed by another, and another, covering her small perky tits in white streaks. Yeji keeps stroking you through it, milking every last drop, until you're shuddering and gasping and grabbing her wrist because you physically cannot take any more.

Yuna looks down at her cum-covered chest and laughs softly. She drags a finger through the mess, scoops up a thick drop, and brings it to her lips. She closes her eyes as she tastes it, sucking her finger clean, her expression almost reverent. "It's been so long since I've tasted this," she says, savoring it. "I forgot how good it is. You taste so fucking good."

Yeji leans over and drags her tongue across one of Yuna's breasts, licking up a streak of your cum. She lets it sit on her tongue for a second, tasting, then swallows. She looks up at you, and there's a small drop of cum at the corner of her lip.

"She's right," Yeji says, licking the corner of her mouth clean. "It's really good.”

You lean forward and kiss Yeji. She tastes like you. The realization registers in her brain half a second later and her eyes go wide, and then something warm floods her expression, surprise melting into tenderness. You kissed her with your own cum on her lips and you didn't flinch. You didn't even think about it.

Yuna's mouth drops open. "Oh my god. You just kissed her after she licked your cum. You absolute freak. I love you."

You pull back from Yeji and shrug. "Seemed rude not to."

"Okay, king." Yuna props herself up on her elbow and looks at your cock, softening against your thigh. "Now I'm getting this thing ready again because it's Yeji's turn and I refuse to let the momentum die."

She shifts down the bed, still lying on her back, and tilts her head to the side until her mouth finds your softening cock, her throat open and relaxed, starting giving long, slow sucks that pull you in deep. It's lazy soft, the kind of oral that isn't trying to make you cum, just coaxing you back to life. Her tongue works the underside in broad strokes and you feel the blood returning, the sensitivity rebuilding, your cock thickening against her tongue.

Yeji reaches over and brushes a strand of dark hair away from Yuna's face, tucking it behind her ear so she can see her properly. Yuna's cheeks are hollowed around your shaft, her eyes closed, completely focused on the task. "She's beautiful, isn't she?" Yeji says softly, watching her girlfriend suck your cock with this expression that's equal parts love and awe.

"She really is," you agree.

"The first time I slept with her," Yeji continues, her thumb tracing Yuna's jaw while she works, "and I saw her naked for the first time, I remember lying there thinking I must be dreaming. Like my brain could not accept that this girl wanted me. That I got to touch her. I felt so lucky it scared me."

Yuna pulls off your cock with a wet sound and grins up at both of you, a string of spit connecting her lower lip to the head. "It’s not fair you two getting me emotional again when I’ve got a cock in my mouth. Stop being cute." She gives your shaft two firm strokes and inspects her work. Fully hard, flushed, ready. "There. Good as new."

She lets go and rolls to the side, propping herself up on one elbow. Yeji takes a breath, and you watch the dynamic shift in real time. The confident top who just fucked her girlfriend senseless is suddenly quiet, almost shy. She lies back on the bed, her blonde hair spreading across the pillow, and looks up at you with an expression that's trying very hard to be casual and failing completely. Yuna hooks her fingers into the waistband of Yeji's panties and slides them down her legs in one smooth motion, tossing them off the bed. Yeji is fully naked now, laid out before you.

"It's so hot seeing you be a sub for once," Yuna murmurs, running a fingertip down Yeji's sternum. "My bossy little top, all spread out and waiting."

"Not now, Yuna," Yeji whispers.

You settle between Yeji's legs, and the reality of what's happening threatens to short-circuit your brain. This is Yeji. Your roommate. Your best friend since freshman year. The girl who makes your coffee and falls asleep in your bed and has seen you at your absolute worst and stayed anyway. And she's lying naked beneath you, her thighs open, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, looking at you like you're the only thing that exists.

You slide one hand across her abs, feeling the warmth of her body, the muscles tensing under your palm. Your other hand goes to her inner thigh, spreading her leg wider. She lets you. She lets you do everything.

Yuna scoots closer and peers down between Yeji's legs, eyeing your cock hovering near her pussy. "Can I do the honors?"

She doesn't wait for an answer. She wraps her hand around your shaft and guides the tip to Yeji's entrance, rubbing the head through her folds. Yeji is already wet, slick against the head of your cock, and you push your hips forward gently as Yuna holds you steady.

The head pushes past her entrance and Yeji's breath catches. Not a moan, not a gasp. Something deeper than that. Something that sounds like it's been lodged in her chest for years and just now found its way out. You slide in slowly, inch by inch, and she's tight. Tighter than Yuna, her walls gripping you firmly, resisting and then yielding as you press deeper.

"You okay?" you ask, pausing halfway.

"Yes,” Yeji manages. She lets out a nervous laugh that cracks in the middle. "More than okay. I just don't even know what to think right now."

"Then don't think," Yuna says, lying down beside Yeji and curling against her side, one arm draped across her stomach. "Just feel him. Let it happen."

You push the rest of the way in and Yeji's eyes flutter shut when you bottom out. You stay there for a moment, fully buried inside your best friend, feeling her pulse around you. Yuna looks up at you from her spot beside Yeji, her chin resting on Yeji's shoulder. "Fuck your girlfriend," she says, low and direct. "She waited years for this. Don't make her wait another second."

You pull back slowly and thrust in again, gentle, testing. Yeji makes a soft sound and her hands find the sheets, gripping. You do it again. Building a rhythm, slow and deep, watching her face for every reaction. Her lips part. Her brow furrows. Her back arches just slightly off the mattress.

"There you go," Yuna murmurs against Yeji's shoulder, her hand sliding up to cup one of Yeji's breasts, squeezing gently. "There's my girl. Let him fuck you. You deserve this."

You pick up the pace gradually, your hips rolling into hers with more purpose, more depth. The wet sound of your cock sliding in and out of her fills the room, and Yeji's moans start climbing. Quiet at first, almost reluctant, like she's embarrassed to be loud after years of being the one in control. Then louder, pulled out of her involuntarily as you hit deeper.

"You feel incredible," you tell her, fully honest. "You're so tight. So wet."

"I can't believe this is happening," Yeji breathes, her eyes still closed. "I thought about this so many times. So many fucking times."

"Tell him," Yuna encourages, pinching Yeji's nipple between her fingers. "Tell him what you thought about."

"When you were with Ryujin," Yeji starts, and her voice trembles as you thrust into her, "I would lie in my room and hear you two through the wall. And I would close my eyes and imagine it was me. Every single time. I would imagine your hands on me instead of her. Your mouth on me. Your body on top of mine."

You thrust harder and she gasps, her back arching.

"And I hated myself for it," she continues, breathless. "Because you were my best friend and she was your girlfriend and I had no right to think about you like that. But I couldn't stop. Every time you touched my shoulder, or hugged me, or fell asleep next to me on the couch, I would replay it in my head for days."

"You have him now," Yuna says, her hand sliding down Yeji's stomach. "He's inside you right now. He's yours."

"I know," she manages to whisper, though it wavers. "I know he is."

You bring your hand between her legs while you fuck her, finding her clit with your thumb, rubbing in tight circles. Yeji's reaction is immediate. Her whole body jolts, her thighs clamping against your sides, her moans sharpening into something urgent.

"Look at you," Yuna whispers into Yeji's ear, loud enough for you to hear. "Getting fucked by the guy you've been dreaming about for years. Getting your tight little pussy stretched open by your best friend's cock. How does it feel, baby? Tell me how it feels."

"It feels perfect," Yeji moans. "He fills me up so good, Yuna. His cock is so deep inside me. I can feel every inch."

"That's my girl. Take every inch. You earned this. Every single night you spent wanting him and not saying anything, this is your reward."

Yeji's hand shoots down and grabs your wrist, not to stop you, but to hold on. She presses your hand harder against her clit, demanding more pressure, and you give it to her. You rub faster, firmer, while your cock pounds into her, and Yeji's composure shatters completely. She's loud now, louder than you've ever heard her be about anything, her moans filling the bedroom, her body writhing beneath you.

"Right there," she begs, her grip on your wrist bruising. "Right there, please, right there, don't stop, don't you dare stop—"

"He's not going anywhere," Yuna assures her, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her neck. "He's yours. We're both yours. Just let go, baby."

Yeji's legs wrap around your waist, pulling you deeper, and you feel her pussy getting wetter with every stroke, creamy and slick, coating your shaft. You look down and see the white ring forming at the base of your cock every time you pull back, and the visual sends a jolt straight through you.

"Fuck, Yeji," you groan. "You're creaming all over my cock."

"She does that," Yuna grins, watching. "It means you're doing everything right. Keep going. Don't let up."

You don't let up. Deep, steady strokes that push her into the mattress, her body shifting up the bed with every thrust. Her eyes are locked on yours and she's not looking away, not blinking, like if she breaks eye contact the spell will shatter and she'll wake up back in her dorm room staring at Lia's sunrise poster. Your hand slides up from her collarbone to her throat, your fingers wrapping around the side of her neck, just resting there, feeling her pulse hammering against your palm.

"Yes," she whispers. You squeeze. Just enough pressure to make her feel it, to make the blood rush louder in her ears, to narrow the world down to nothing but your hand and your cock and the sound of her own heartbeat.

"Oh fuck, that's hot," Yuna breathes, her fingers idly tracing circles on Yeji's stomach. "Look at her. Look at what you're doing to her. Show her how much you want to fuck her. Show her you've been thinking about this too."

You tighten your grip just a fraction and thrust harder, burying yourself to the hilt, and Yeji's hips buck off the mattress. Her hands fly up to your forearm, not pulling you away but holding on, her fingers digging into the muscle of your wrist.

"You're making me feel so fucking good," Yeji gasps, her chest heaving beneath you. "Nobody has ever fucked me like this. Not ever."

Yuna's hand slides down Yeji's stomach and takes over where you left off, her fingers finding Yeji's clit and rubbing in fast, tight circles. The effect is devastating. Yeji's whole body jolts, her abs clenching, her thighs trembling against your sides. She's getting stimulated from every direction at once and her brain can't keep up with any of it.

"That's it, baby," Yuna murmurs, her lips brushing Yeji's ear while her fingers work. "Let him fuck you. Let him own you. You spent years being the top. You spent years being in control. Let go of all of it right now. Be his good girl for once."

“I'm his good girl," Yeji whimpers, and the pet name catches her off guard as it leaves her mouth, something she doesn't normally say, wouldn't normally let herself say. "I'm yours, babe. I'm both of yours."

"Prove it," Yuna says. "Show him you wanted this as bad as he did. Show him how wet you are for him."

You lean down and kiss her. Hard. Messy. All teeth and tongue, nothing graceful about it. Yeji bites your lower lip and holds it, tugging, her teeth sinking in just hard enough to sting, and when she releases it she looks up at you with those sharp cat eyes glazed over and desperate.

"You have no idea how much I love you," she says against your mouth. "You have no fucking idea. I loved you when you were making me coffee at six in the morning. I loved you when you fell asleep on my shoulder during movies. I loved you when you walked around in a towel and I had to lock myself in my room because I couldn't breathe. I loved you through all of it and I never said a word."

"I'm here now," you tell her. "I'm right here."

"Then don't stop, babe. Fuck me harder."

Your hand stays on her neck and your hips find another gear, driving into her with force that makes the headboard tap against the wall. Yeji takes every thrust, her body absorbing the impact, her moans climbing in register until they're sharp and continuous. Yuna's fingers are relentless on her clit, rubbing fast and firm, and you can see the orgasm building in Yeji's face. The tightening around her eyes. The way her jaw clenches. The flush spreading from her chest up her neck.

"She's close," Yuna says, watching Yeji's face. "I know that face. She's about to cum so fucking hard. Keep going. Don't change a single thing."

"Look at me," you tell Yeji, and she forces her eyes open, locking onto yours. "Look at me when you cum."

"Oh god," Yeji chokes. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, don't stop—"

You fuck her through it, your cock driving deep, your hand squeezing her neck, and Yeji shatters. Her pussy clamps down on you hard, a rhythmic clenching that pulses around your shaft as the orgasm tears through her entire body. Her legs lock behind your back, pulling you in until there's no space left. Her hands grip your forearm and her nails break skin. She screams something that isn't a word, just raw sound ripping out of her throat.

"That's it, baby," Yuna encourages, her fingers still working Yeji's clit through the aftershocks. "Keep cumming on that cock. That's what you wanted, isn't it? That's what you spent years wanting. His cock deep inside you, making you cum until you can't fucking think. Take all of it. Take everything."

You keep thrusting, slower now but deeper, extracting every last wave from her. Yeji's body convulses beneath you in diminishing shudders, each one pulling a soft, broken sound from her mouth. Her grip on your arm loosens. Her legs fall open. Her chest heaves.

You're close. The pressure has been building since her pussy started squeezing you, and you're right on the edge, your cock aching, twitching, leaking precum inside her. "I'm about to cum," you grit out.

Yeji's eyes find yours immediately. "Cum on my face." She says it so directly, so earnestly, that it catches you off guard. "I've thought about this too many times to not feel it for real. Please. I want to feel every drop. I want it in my mouth, on my cheeks, dripping down my neck. I want to be disgusting with it. I want my girlfriend to see what a filthy slut I am for your cock. Ruin me. I'm serious. Fucking destroy me.”

You pull out of her and move up the bed, kneeling beside her head. Your cock is throbbing, dripping with her cum, and you wrap your fist around it and start stroking. Fast, tight, urgent.

Yeji tilts her head on the pillow and looks up at you, waiting. And the thing that gets you isn't how beautiful she is, even though she is, painfully so. It's that this is a face you've seen a thousand times. Across the kitchen table at seven in the morning, puffy-eyed and grumpy before coffee. On the couch at midnight, lit blue by the TV, laughing at something you said. You know every angle of this face. You've seen this face frustrated, exhausted, crying, laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. But you've never seen it like this. Blonde hair fanned across the pillow, skin flushed, lips swollen, looking up at you with those cat eyes completely unguarded, waiting for you to leave something on her skin that says she's yours.

"Cum for her," Yuna says from behind you, her chin resting on your shoulder, watching over you. "Cover that gorgeous face. Every inch. She wants it. Give it to her."

You stroke yourself faster, your hips jerking forward, and the orgasm hits you hard enough to make you lose your balance for a brief moment. The first spurt of cum lands thick and hot across Yeji's cheek, a white streak from her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth. She flinches at the warmth but doesn't close her eyes. The second rope crosses her forehead and drips into her hairline. The third hits her lips and chin, and she parts her mouth to catch some of it on her tongue. You keep stroking, grunting with each pulse, and more lands on her nose, her other cheek, the space between her brows. By the time the last weak spurt falls across her jaw, Yeji's face is covered. Thick white streaks painted across every sharp, beautiful feature, dripping down her temples, pooling in the hollow of her throat.

You're breathing so hard your vision is spotting at the edges. You lean forward and guide the head of your cock to Yeji's lips. She opens her mouth and takes the tip in, her tongue circling the sensitive head, sucking gently, cleaning the last drops from you. The overstimulation makes your thighs shake but you let her do it, watching her through half-closed eyes as she sucks you clean with cum smeared across her entire face.

Yuna peers over your shoulder and exhales slowly. "Yeji. Babe. You look so pretty right now. Like, actually stunning. Cum and all."

Yeji releases your cock from her mouth and blinks up at both of you through cum-clumped lashes. "Really?"

You look down at her. Your best friend. Your new girlfriend. Lying there glowing and wrecked, looking up at you for reassurance even now. "You look incredibly hot,” you admit. Yuna leans down and kisses Yeji full on the mouth, pressing her lips against the cum-covered mess without a second's hesitation. It's tender and filthy at the same time, Yuna's tongue sliding across Yeji's lower lip, tasting you on her girlfriend's face. When she pulls back, a thin bridge of cum and saliva connects their mouths.

"Okay," Yuna announces, popping up from the bed with an energy that should not be physically possible at this hour. "We need to document this moment."

"Document what," Yeji mumbles.

But Yuna is already off the bed, completely naked, striding out of the room. You hear her bare feet slapping against the hardwood, a bag unzipping, feet slapping back.

"Your girlfriend has crazy ideas," you say.

"Our girlfriend," Yeji corrects, staring at the ceiling. "Apparently."

"I still need to get used to that."

"You and me both."

Yuna returns with her phone and dives back onto the bed, lying beside Yeji. She leans over and drags her tongue up Yeji's cheek in one long, slow lick, scooping up a thick stripe of cum. She holds the phone up above both of them. "Say cheese."

She sticks her tongue out, showing the cum sitting on it, and grins at the camera. Yeji, too tired to protest, gives a gentle, fucked-out smile, her face still glistening. Click.

Yuna inspects the photo and makes a satisfied noise. "This is incredible. We look amazing."

Yeji's eyes narrow. "If that ever gets leaked, I will kill you. Then him. Then myself. In that order."

"Relax, babe. Your nudes have been in my phone for two years and not a single one has leaked. I take excellent care of my treasures."

"That's not as reassuring as you think it is."

Yuna sets the phone on the nightstand and stretches her arms above her head, arching her back, and then a massive yawn escapes her. It's contagious. Yeji yawns immediately after, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Then you yawn, and all three of you are lying there yawning in chain reaction.

"Besides love," Yuna says, settling onto her back between the two of you, "we are collectively connected by sleep. It's beautiful."

Nobody moves to get cleaned up. Nobody mentions the shower. The three of you just lie side by side, naked and spent, staring at the ceiling. The sheets are a disaster. The room smells like sweat and sex and salt air from the open window. Somewhere outside, the ocean keeps pushing in and pulling back, indifferent and steady.

You hear Yeji laughing. Quiet, almost to herself, this soft little sound that bubbles up from somewhere private.

"What are you laughing at?" you ask.

"Nothing." She pauses. "I think this was the best night of my life. That's all. I'm just happy."

Yuna smiles at the ceiling. "Pretty great way to kick off a new beginning, huh?"

"The best," Yeji agrees. Her hand finds yours between your bodies, her fingers lacing through yours. Then her other hand reaches for Yuna's and finds it. The three of you, connected in a chain, lying in wrecked sheets, breathing together. "This would be a much more romantic moment," she whispers, "if I didn't have cum all over my face."

Yuna turns her head, studying her with open adoration. “This is exactly what love looks like. All sweat, cum, and messy hair. You’re literally the face of love right now.”

“I hate you,” Yeji groans.

“No, you don’t,” Yuna teases. “You love me.”

"I love you." Yeji admits, squeezes both your hands. "I love both of you.”

—

You wake slowly to the sound of whispering. Not urgent, not tense. Just soft and lazy, the kind people fall into when they don’t want to wake someone but aren’t exactly trying that hard to stay quiet. Your eyes adjust to the late morning light spilling through the curtains, and the first thing you notice is the warmth pressed against both sides of you.

Yuna is on your left, lying on her stomach with her chin resting on her folded arms, her dark hair a tangled mess across the pillow. Yeji is on your right, curled on her side facing Yuna, one hand tucked under her cheek. Both of them are naked from the waist up, the sheets pulled loosely to their hips. Last night, after everything, the three of you had barely managed to shower and swap the wrecked sheets for clean ones before collapsing back into bed in a tangle of damp skin and heavy limbs. You don't even remember falling asleep.

"What time is it," you mumble, your tongue thick with sleep.

"Good morning." Yeji smiles at you. "It's almost noon. We just woke up a few minutes ago."

"How are you feeling?" Yuna asks, tilting her head on her arms to look at you.

"Fine. Better now that I'm seeing you two." You stretch your arms above your head and settle back into the pillow. "Could get used to this view."

Yeji props herself up on her elbow. "So. Yuna and I were talking."

"Dangerous."

"The first step in this new relationship," Yeji continues, ignoring you, "is that everyone needs to be marked. Officially."

You squint at her. "Marked how?"

"Like this," Yuna says, and before you can react she leans in and kisses you, warm and slow, her hand resting on your jaw. Then her mouth drifts down to your neck, finding a spot just below your ear, and she sucks. Hard. You feel the blood rushing to the surface, the sting of it, and she holds it there for a few seconds before pulling back and admiring her work. "Perfect," she declares.

Then Yeji moves to your chest, pressing her lips against the skin just below your collarbone. Her mouth is softer than Yuna's, but she sucks with just as much intent, leaving a dark bloom on your chest. She sits back and looks at it with satisfaction.

You give a weak laugh, rubbing your neck where Yuna got you. "Okay. I'm starting to understand the assignment."

You pull them both closer by the waist and lean into Yuna first, kissing the side of her neck, finding a spot right above her collarbone and sucking until she squirms and grabs your shoulder. While your mouth is still on Yuna's skin, Yeji dips her head and bites Yuna's waist, a quick little nip with her teeth that makes Yuna yelp and flinch.

"Ow! What the hell?"

"All kinds of marks are valid," Yeji says, grinning.

You turn to Yeji and take her breast in your mouth, sucking on the soft skin just above her nipple until a reddish mark surfaces. She sucks in a breath and threads her fingers through your hair, holding you there. "Okay, that one's going to be visible if I wear a low top," she murmurs.

The three of you spend the next few minutes in this stupid, escalating war. Yuna leaves another hickey on your hip. You bite Yeji's shoulder. Yeji sucks a mark onto Yuna's inner thigh and Yuna kicks her reflexively. It devolves until all three of you are covered in little bruises and teeth marks like a trio of ridiculous teenagers, and Yuna finally rolls onto her back laughing, waving a white flag.

"Okay, stop, stop. This was a terrible idea. We look like we got attacked by something. Let's just get matching bracelets."

You catch your breath, sprawled between them, looking at the ceiling. "So what are we doing today?"

"There's a botanical garden twenty minutes from here," Yeji says immediately. "It's supposed to be really beautiful."

"There's also a vintage market by the pier," Yuna counters. "Way more fun. Way more energy."

"The botanical garden has a koi pond."

“The market has street food,” Yuna insists, lifting a brow.

“We can eat anywhere,” Yeji replies, unfazed.

"Not the same."

They go back and forth, talking over each other, their voices rising in that familiar competitive rhythm, and you close your eyes and let it wash over you until Yuna suddenly sits up, her face bright with an idea. "Okay. New proposal. Whoever has the last orgasm gets to pick where we go today."

Yeji stares at her. "What?"

"It's a fair system. Democratic, even. Orgasm-based democracy."

"How is that going to work?"

Yuna nods at you. "Our new boyfriend has a very obvious morning situation that he's been trying to hide under the sheet for the last ten minutes."

You stop pretending. "It's just biology."

"Biology is on our side today." Yuna grins. "Here's the deal. We both use him. Whoever cums last wins."

You look between them. "I'm fine with this, honestly. If it stops you two from arguing."

Yeji considers it for a moment, her competitive nature visibly warring with her dignity. Dignity loses. "Fine. I'll take his mouth."

"Then I get the cock," Yuna says, already reaching for the sheets. She pulls the bedsheet all the way back, exposing your body and the hard cock standing rigid against your stomach. Yuna takes a second to appreciate it, wrapping her fingers around the shaft and giving one slow stroke. "Good morning to you too," she tells it.

You adjust yourself flat on the bed, settling your head into the pillow. Yeji swings one leg over your chest and positions herself above your face, her thighs on either side of your head. From below, you can see everything. Yuna kneels between your legs and lifts your cock, rubbing the head through her folds, positioning you at her entrance.

The two girls look at each other across your body.

"Ready?" Yuna asks.

"Ready," Yeji confirms.

They lower themselves at the same time. Yeji's pussy settles onto your mouth, warm and wet, and you grip her thighs and pull her down tighter. Yuna sinks onto your cock in one smooth motion, taking you to the hilt, her breath catching as she bottoms out.

"Okay," Yuna exhales, rolling her hips experimentally. "Let the challenge begin.”

You press your mouth against Yeji's pussy and the taste of her floods your senses. Warm and slick and faintly sweet, and you lick a slow stripe from her entrance to her clit that makes her entire body jolt above you. At the same time, Yuna starts moving her hips, rising up on your cock until just the tip is inside her, then sinking back down in one fluid motion that buries you to the hilt. The sensation of being inside Yuna while your mouth works Yeji is overwhelming in a way that makes your fingers dig into the soft flesh of Yeji's thighs.

The two girls look at each other across your body. Yuna looks keyed up, competitive. Yeji holds her ground, jaw firm with resolve. Whatever this is, it’s turned into a duel.

Yuna rolls her hips with a slow mastery, grinding down on your cock in tight circles before lifting herself and dropping back down. She's pacing herself, keeping her breathing controlled, riding you with the discipline of someone who fully intends to win. Meanwhile, you eat Yeji's pussy with genuine enthusiasm because she tastes incredible, better than anything you've ever put your mouth on, and you're not being strategic about it. You're just hungry for her. Your tongue circles her clit, flattens against it, flicks it in rapid succession, and Yeji's thighs clamp against the sides of your head.

"Slow down," Yeji gasps, her fingers tangling in your hair and pulling. "You need to go slow or you're going to—" She cuts herself off with a moan that comes out high and broken, her hips grinding involuntarily against your face. "Fuck. You're going to make me cum like this."

Yuna giggles, breathless, bouncing on your cock with a steady rhythm. "Called it. She's not going to last. She never lasts when there's feelings involved. Every time she actually cares about someone she cums in like four minutes. It's adorable."

"Shut up," Yeji manages. "You're barely even moving down there. You're sandbagging."

"I'm savoring."

"You're cheating."

Yuna grins and shifts her angle, leaning back slightly so your cock hits a different spot inside her. A low moan escapes her lips but she bites it back, maintaining composure. "I'm always horny in the morning, okay? I'm not going to last long on this cock either. But I take challenges seriously and I refuse to lose."

"You're barely riding him. That's not taking it seriously." Yeji leans forward, reaching down between Yuna's legs, and pinches her nipple firmly between two fingers. Yuna yelps and her hips stutter. "Really grind on that cock. If you're going to compete, then compete."

"Ow! Fine." Yuna picks up the pace, bouncing harder, faster, her thighs slapping against your hips with each descent. The wet, obscene sounds between your bodies only get louder, and she makes no effort to hide them. "God, his cock is so good in the morning. It feels even bigger than last night."

"Morning erections have increased blood flow," Yeji says through clenched teeth as you suck her clit into your mouth and pulse your tongue against it. "It's basic biology— fuck, stop doing that."

But you don't stop, you drag your tongue flat across her clit and then seal your lips around it and suck, and Yeji's thighs squeeze your head so tight your ears ring. She grinds down onto your face, dragging her wet pussy across your mouth, and you chase her clit with your tongue every time she shifts.

"Yeah, just like that," Yuna pants, watching Yeji's face contort above you while she rides your cock in deep, rolling strokes. "Make her cum on your face. She's so close, look at her. Look at her legs shaking."

"This isn't fair," Yeji protests, breathless. "I can't control the rhythm of his mouth. He just does whatever he wants down there. You can ride his cock however you want. You control the speed."

"You're the one who chose mouth, babe."

"I was still half asleep. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Sounds like a personal problem."

The duel continues. Yuna's moans are getting longer now, stretching out into sustained sounds that she can't chop short anymore. She's leaning forward with her hands braced on your stomach, her dark hair swinging, riding you with genuine urgency. Your cock is soaked with her, the wetness audible every time she lifts up and drops down.

"Your cock feels so fucking good," Yuna breathes, her nails scratching across your abs. "It fills me up perfectly. Every single inch. I can feel you so deep."

Below Yeji, you're relentless. Your tongue works her clit in tight circles, alternating pressure, sucking and releasing, and Yeji is falling apart above you. Her head drops back and her grip in your hair tightens to the point of pain and her abs are clenching with every pass of your tongue.

"I don't know how much longer I can hold on," Yeji breathes out.

"Me either," Yuna gasps, grinding down hard on your cock. "I'm so close. I'm right there."

Sweat gathers and glistens on their skin, shining across Yuna’s chest, slipping in slow lines down Yeji’s stomach. The air is dense, soaked with sex and warmth and morning haze, filled with the restless sounds of two girls stubbornly trying to outlast each other against you.

Then Yuna looks at Yeji with a knowing, devilish smile. "Plans have changed," she announces, breathless. "New rules. Whoever cums first gets to choose the destination."

Yeji's eyes snap open. "That's cheating. You can't change the rules in the middle of—" But Yuna is already gone. She slams her hips down onto your cock and grinds hard, chasing her own orgasm with zero restraint now, her head thrown back, her thighs clenching around your hips. She's riding you like she's trying to break something, fast and deep and desperate. "Yuna, that's not— that's completely dishonest—"

Yeji's hand tightens in your hair and she pulls your face harder against her pussy. "Suck my clit. Right now. Hard."

You seal your lips around her swollen clit and suck with focused pressure, your tongue flicking against it inside your mouth, and Yeji screams. But Yuna is already there. Her body locks up on top of your cock, her pussy clamping down in rhythmic pulses, her thighs shaking violently as the orgasm rips through her. She grinds down one final time and holds herself there, impaled on you, trembling and gasping and cumming so hard you can feel every contraction squeezing your shaft.

She pulls off your cock barely a second before Yeji breaks. Your mouth pushes her over the edge and Yeji's orgasm crashes through her in a wave that makes her whole body seize. She cums on your face, her pussy flooding your mouth with wetness, her thighs clamping and releasing in spasms, her fingers nearly ripping your hair out. You hold her thighs and keep sucking her through it until she shoves your head away because the sensitivity is too much.

Yeji climbs off you on shaking legs and collapses onto the mattress, breathing in ragged bursts. Yuna slides off to the other side, equally wrecked, lying on her back with one arm thrown over her eyes.

"I win," Yuna pants. "Vintage market."

"You're a cheater and a fraud," Yeji laughs, still trying to catch her breath. "You changed the rules because you knew you were going to lose."

"I adapted to the circumstances. It's called strategy." They're both grinning. Both flushed and sweaty and satisfied. Yuna lifts her arm from her eyes and looks at you, sprawled between them, your cock still painfully hard and glistening with her arousal. "In the end, though, the real winner is you," she says. "Last one to cum. A true pillar of resilience."

"Speaking of which." Yeji rolls onto her side and eyes your cock. "Let's take care of that. Stand up."

You climb out of bed. Your cock juts out in front of you, throbbing, dripping. Yeji and Yuna slide off the mattress and kneel on the floor in front of you, shoulder to shoulder, both looking up at you with matching expressions of intent. Yeji wraps her hand around your shaft and strokes, firm and purposeful. "Put one leg up on the bed. Give us room."

You plant your right foot on the edge of the mattress, opening yourself up. Both girls lean in simultaneously. Yuna takes the head of your cock into her mouth, her lips stretching around you, her tongue swirling across the slit. Yeji strokes the shaft while her mouth works lower, kissing down your balls, taking one into her mouth and sucking gently.

"Fuck," you groan, and your hand finds the top of Yuna's head, fingers sliding through her dark hair.

Yuna bobs on the tip with concentrated suction, her cheeks hollowing, her tongue pressing against the sensitive underside of the head on every upstroke. She's not teasing this time. She's trying to make you cum and every movement is calibrated toward that single goal. Meanwhile, Yeji releases your balls and goes lower. Her tongue traces down past the base of your sack, finding the stretch of skin behind it, your perineum, and she presses her tongue flat against it.

The sound that comes out of you is embarrassing. A full-body shudder runs through your legs and you grab the back of Yeji's head instinctively, holding her there. Ryujin never did this. Ryujin never went anywhere near this. The sensitivity is beyond anything you knew your body was capable of feeling, this deep, radiating pressure that connects directly to the base of your cock and amplifies everything Yuna is doing with her mouth.

"Oh my god," you gasp. "Yeji, what the fuck. That feels insane." Yeji hums against your perineum and the vibration nearly buckles your knees. She licks in slow, firm passes, pressing hard with the flat of her tongue, and you can feel the orgasm building from somewhere deep in your pelvis, gathering momentum like a wave.

Yuna pulls off the tip long enough to stroke you and look up. Her huge brown eyes lock onto yours and she holds the gaze as she takes you back into her mouth, sinking down, her lips meeting her fist at the midpoint of your shaft. She doesn't break eye contact. She just stares up at you while she sucks you off, wet and sloppy and relentless, and between Yuna's eyes and Yeji's tongue you are absolutely finished.

"Cum in her mouth," Yeji says from below, voice muffled against your skin. "Cum in your slutty girlfriend's pretty little mouth. Give her every drop. Be a good boy and let go."

You cum. The orgasm hits so hard your vision goes white and your leg on the bed nearly slides out from under you. The first spurt of cum fires straight into Yuna's mouth and she takes it without flinching, her lips sealed around you, her eyes still locked on yours. More follows. Thick, heavy ropes of cum that fill her mouth in pulses, one after another after another, and she stays perfectly still, receiving everything you give her. Your legs are shaking so badly you grip Yuna's shoulder for balance.

Yeji presses one last long kiss to your perineum, then rises, trailing her lips up across your pelvis. "Good boy," she murmurs against your hip bone, her lips soft and tender. "Such a good boy."

Yuna slowly, carefully, pulls the tip of your cock from her mouth. She tilts her head back and opens wide. Her mouth is completely white. A pool of thick cum sitting on her tongue, coating the inside of her cheeks, stringing between her lips. She didn't swallow a single drop. She just held everything there, showing you.

"Look at her," Yeji tells you, her hand on your hip, steadying you. "Don't blink."

Yeji kneels beside Yuna and tilts her own head back, opening her mouth. Yuna cups Yeji's jaw with one hand and tilts it upward, and then she leans over and lets the cum spill from her mouth into Yeji's. It pours in a thick, white stream, stringing between their lips, and Yeji catches it on her tongue. They each swallow a little, their throats working, and then they press their mouths together in a cum-soaked kiss that is filthy beyond anything you've ever witnessed. Their lips are glossy and white, strings of cum stretching between them when they part for air, and they kiss through all of it, tongues sliding against each other, swapping the taste of you back and forth until they've swallowed everything.

When they finally separate, both of their lips are shining, swollen, faintly white at the corners. They look up at you, kneeling side by side on the floor. You sit down on the edge of the bed because your legs cannot support you any longer. You press both palms flat against the mattress. You take a long, slow breath.

“If this is what waking up looks like now,” you say, “I don’t need anything else.”

Yuna meets Yeji’s eyes, both of them smiling. She brushes her thumb over her mouth, then cleans it with a quick flick of her tongue. “C’mon, get dressed, babe,” Yuna chirps, already hopping up like none of that just happened. “Today’s gonna be too good to miss.”

—

Once that ridiculous, flawless, borderline holy morning was over, the three of you managed to wash up and walk out of the Airbnb passing as functional human beings. Showers were taken in shifts because Yuna went first and used every last drop of hot water, and Yeji, left shivering and offended, threatened to end the relationship before it even technically started. You went last and the water was lukewarm at best, but you didn't care. You stood under the spray and stared at the tile and processed the fact that your life had fundamentally changed in the span of twelve hours and you were fine with it. More than fine. You were lighter than you'd been in months.

Lunch ended up being at a tiny place a couple blocks from the beach. Plastic chairs, flimsy paper menus, and food that had no business being that good. The three of you were starving in that specific, hollow way that comes after too much sex and too many feelings all at once. Yuna ordered like she hadn’t eaten in days and finished every bite. You kept picking off Yeji’s plate, and she didn’t even pretend to mind. The conversation stayed light, messy, full of dumb jokes that only work when everyone’s actually having a good time.

Now you're walking along the boardwalk, the ocean stretching out to your left, the sun warm on your skin without being punishing. Yuna is a few steps ahead, wearing your dark sunglasses and those low-waisted jeans that seem to be permanently grafted to her body. She's sipping coconut water from a bottle and filming the scenery with her phone, narrating something for her Instagram stories in that breezy influencer cadence she's been perfecting.

Yeji bumps her shoulder against yours. You look down at her. Her blonde hair is catching the sunlight, almost white at the tips, and her skin is golden from yesterday's beach day. She looks rested. Softer around the edges than usual. "What do you think of today?" she asks.

"Today specifically, or today in the context of the last twenty-four hours?"

"Both."

You think about it. The breeze off the ocean pushes your hair across your forehead. "It's never been this perfect. Any of it. I keep waiting for something to go wrong and nothing does."

"Maybe nothing will."

"Maybe." You smile. "What about you? What do you think?"

Yeji takes a few steps in silence, her sandals clicking on the wooden boards. "I'm happy. That's the simple answer. But it's more than that. I feel... light? Like something I've been carrying around for a long time just isn't there anymore. I didn't even realize how heavy it was until it was gone." She frowns slightly, trying to find the right shape for the feeling. "I didn't know I could feel like this. It's strange. It's good too, I just need to get used to it."

"What part is strange?"

"The part where I'm not worried. I always worry. About you, about Yuna, about everything. But right now I’m just… existing. Walking. Not on edge.” She huffs out a quiet laugh. “It feels wrong.” You reach over and take her hand. She glances down at it, then back up, and smiles. Not the measured, careful smile she gives when she's trying to seem okay. This one reaches everywhere.

"You two are actually unbearable," Yuna calls out from a few steps ahead, spinning around and walking backward just to keep looking at you. Coconut water in one hand, phone in the other, your sunglasses way too big for her face. "This is ridiculously cute. We need a picture. Right now. All three of us." She takes a sip, smiling like she’s already imagining it. "Let’s post it. Announce the new relationship to the world. Hard launch. Ryujin’s going to lose her mind.”

"We're not announcing anything," Yeji says.

"Why not? We look incredible. The lighting is perfect. I have the caption already planned."

"Because this is literally day one. We haven't even defined what this is yet." Yeji squeezes your hand. "Let's take it slow. Figure things out together. One day at a time. There's no rush."

"Slow is boring."

"Slow is mature."

"Same thing." Yuna pouts, bottom lip pushed out, sunglasses sliding down her nose. But she doesn't push it. She takes another sip of coconut water and nods. "Fine. One day at a time. But I'm keeping that selfie from last night as my phone wallpaper. The one on the beach. The kissing one."

"That one is fine," Yeji concedes.

"The other selfie stays locked in a vault."

"Obviously."

You catch up to Yuna and she falls into step beside you, the three of you walking abreast along the boardwalk. You in the middle. Yeji holding your left hand, Yuna close enough on your right that her arm brushes against yours with every step.

"When we’re finally sharing the same roof, we’ll have all the time in the world to work this out," you point out.

Yeji nods. "And in the meantime..."

"And in the meantime," Yuna finishes, hooking her arm through yours, "we keep enjoying this perfect, beautiful, unprecedented harmony." She tosses her empty coconut water into a recycling bin without breaking stride. "Now come on, the vintage market closes at five and I saw a leather jacket online that I need to find in person. I'm leading the way."

She pulls ahead, walking with that confident, slightly chaotic stride that makes strangers look twice. Yeji watches her go, shaking her head with the kind of exasperated fondness that only comes from loving someone who is permanently set to maximum volume. "She's going to buy something ridiculous," Yeji says.

"No doubt," you reply.

"And I’ll pretend I hate it," she continues.

"And then you’ll admit she looks good anyway.”

"Because she will," Yeji sighs, a small smile slipping through. "This is my life now. Our life."

"Scared?" you ask quietly.

She looks up at you. Squeezes your hand once. "Not even a little."

You and Yeji follow Yuna down the boardwalk, fingers intertwined, the afternoon sun warm on your backs. Ahead of you, Yuna turns around and snaps a photo of the two of you holding hands, grinning behind your stolen sunglasses.

"For the archives!" she shouts. "Our grandkids will want to see this!"

"We've been together for twelve hours," you call back.

"Twelve legendary hours! That counts as at least three years!”

There’s a laugh from Yeji beside you, full and clear, carried away by the breeze. It’s rare enough to make you notice. Not the restrained version she defaults to, not something filtered down to fit the moment. It feels new, or maybe just unfamiliar. Either way, it settles into your mind as something you want to hear again.

Happiness doesn't have a form. It doesn't come in one shape, one size, one configuration that society stamps with approval. And since that's the case, you might as well draw it however you like.

A triangle. Three points, three sides, each one holding the others in place. Stable. Balanced. Whole. That's the shape the three of you decided to make, lying on a rug with the ocean outside the window and the rest of your lives stretching out ahead like a road you hadn't noticed was there until someone grabbed your hand and pulled you onto it.

Yuna takes the lead. Yeji keeps your hand in hers. You move with them into the afternoon, into the hum of the street, into the heat and the easy, messy rhythm of a day that belongs to all three of you.

And if the feeling’s right, you don’t overthink it.

You just let it carry you a little further.

Let it stay that simple.

[jupiterpilgrim]

I got so used to your old pfp that seeing it's weird seeing it change

It’s weird for me too, like it’s someone else’s blog lol

[jupiterpilgrim]

Hey everyone! By now, you’ve probably come across a few authors promoting Fanprose. Just wanted to let you know I’m on there as well, and I’ll be posting some exclusive and early-access fics over there. Basically different genres and smaller ideas I kept putting off, but Fanprose kinda feels like the perfect spot for them now.

There are already two exclusive fics up, so go take a look if you feel like it.

(And I’ll still be on Tumblr, so don’t worry.)

Jupiter

Plus, there’s a photocard system where you can collect, trade, and even gamble cards as you interact on the platform, which is really fun. Definitely worth checking out <3

[valentinedrifter]

Rumors with Karina: Appearances

male reader x Yu Jimin/Karina

~3.7k words

A/N: I have been BFH'd by Karina's thighs. Thigh Fueled Haze, or something of that similarity. Because of this, I've accidentally made a Karina fic for her birthday, so uh.

Happy Karina Day in advance!

Enjoy.

“You're gonna get the both of us in trouble.”

“Oh please, me, getting you in trouble?”

The thing about Yu Jimin is that—

One, she's a walking trouble magnet. To expand on that note, it’s in her job description to be.

Two, nobody knows that she is the trouble. 

Three, she is positively enamored with you for reasons you yourself are not privy to. One can say that it simply happened, and everyone—and you mean everyone—believes that as if it was fact. Which, in your case, may or may not be true as to reiterate, you have zero clue on why she’s head over heels for you.

(Three point five, you might feel the same to a much lesser degree. This is to be discussed and possibly integrated with reason Three alongside a revision upon review.)

Four, as much as everyone is in complete love with her bubbly, cheery personality that pairs up too well with her perfect pretty face and her two very much trouble attracting forces in her chest, nobody—and you mean nobody—is talking about the pillows that you call her thighs. Nobody except for you.

(Four point five, her lap makes for a very nice place to rest your head on.)

Five, you toss both One and Two out of the window and look back at how Three happened. Mostly because of what the people around her say. 

If Yu Jimin said to do it, then you do it. 

And when you first heard that, you had to ask:

Why? 

Because of Six—she's the President of the Student Council. 

And that makes it the perfect cover for everything she wants to do with little old you.

That returns you to Four, where Jimin's back is pressed up against your chest, her hands are over yours—hands that are currently toying with the buttons of her shirt as Jimin oh so kindly asked—and her ass is most definitely not grinding against your painfully hard erection.

“Yes, you–” you hiss out, glancing to your side, eyes trying to focus on that small metallic doorknob that you can't tell is locked or not. “We shouldn't be doing this here, Jimin.”

“You said that the last time,” she pouts, and for a moment, you understand how One and Two have come to fruition. Years of psuedo-politics through the many responsibilities of being in the Student Council has honed her in the verse of bullshitting. Talking with so many people, students and professors alike have given her the uncanny ability of allowing reason Five to come into fruition.

And she's a natural at it. Seen it first hand. Knows how to talk her way into anything, strong arming certain people if she has to (Giselle coming to mind, the slut that she is), and has connections that you're afraid of who it's with and how deep it goes.

Yet, you have no choice in the matter. She's pulling you towards all of it—the talks, the people, the networking. 

Simply because you are hers. 

Her very own Vice President of the Student Council. Which, again, was technically not of your own true volition. Just because you brought up that you might try for the VP spot did not mean you were actually going to run for it, but she’s practically closed her ears and made you her running mate, leading you to win it all.

And normally, typically, in most cases, you would be ecstatic at the fact that you'll be directly working underneath Yu Jimin. Great leader, you’ll admit, even back when you were just some Council guy, and she was in your position. And yet, reason Three means that you get special privileges. Ones that you at your best, halfhearted push back on and at worst, wholeheartedly lean into.

It also means that your job ultimately gets a lot harder when you’re with Jimin for half the day, everyday that it is a weekday.

(You spend the whole day with her on weekends.)

Which brings you back here. Back against the wall, Jimin’s back against you, looking up with that sulking look.

“–didn’t even get to do it on the rooftop earlier.” And that is why you consider reason Two to be of note.

You lick your lips. “Jimin, please,” you sigh, trying horribly at ignoring the slow, teasing circles that her hips are doing, tingles going up and down your body. “We would’ve gotten caught.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” she replies, cockily. A teasing grin on her face as she scrunches her eyes at you. “I had Miggy clear out the top floor because I said we’d be using it for Council purposes.”

“Isn’t that a little abuse of power,” you say, repressing a groan at a particular thrust of her ass straight into your poor, poor cock. “And Miggy might even snitch.”

“He won’t,” she giggles, shaking her head at you. Her fingers dig into her chest, right over yours. Letting you get a nice, good handful of her tits, and even through clothing and lace, they feel fantastic. “I promised him a date with Chaeryeong. Stop worrying so much, honey–” She’s pulling your hand down, past her chest, through her waist, down to that skirt that is surely short enough to get an ordinary student in trouble. “Don’t you wanna play with me?”

God, the way she’s weaponized words even here is making you lose it. A constant tug of war between you two; every pull she makes accumulates until you fall down into her arms, surrendering yourself to her every whim.

“Seriously, we need to talk about this week’s reports–” She brings your hand underneath her skirt. “Are you not wearing any panties?”

“Oops.” She doesn’t sound, look, or act so apologetic when she’s leaning your fingers further into her legs, pressing them up against her wet folds. “Silly me, I must’ve left on the rooftop.”

“Oh my god.” On one hand, you’re dreading what would happen if someone found it. On the other, your dick is twitching at the sheer idea that she’s been listening in class, leading meetings, greeting everyone she comes across with a bright smile all while she’s bare underneath that skirt. 

A skirt that in one gust of wind, would expose her dripping cunt to anyone in the vicinity.

This woman is fucking crazy, your mind thinks. Scratch that, this woman is starved. Ever since the school year started she’s been doing all these little rendezvous with you all over the campus. Started off with the quick make outs after the day ends, moving into hands getting grabby, every single day inching you both closer to the inevitable and now this?

Jimin’s calling out your name as you feel your fingers get wet, and god; the damnation that would come if you ever decide to push even a single digit inside her would cause repercussions that’ll shake your entire being. This is your first time ever coming close to her core, to pushing past the boundaries of foreplay, and you’re crumbling against the pressure that comes barreling forth, logical reasoning losing all meaning in favor of all the emotional damage you’re being dealt with.

And fuck, would you take it. Being blessed or cursed to feed this succubus, hidden underneath the angelic persona she’s known by everyone as. Committing sin upon Jimin, making her sing heaven on earth and you swear upon everything—

Not even God can stop you from turning it into reality.

“Now now, we can multitask,” she says, leaving your hands alone. Coming to fiddle the button of your pants, fumbling around it as you enjoy learning more of her tits, her pussy. “Tell me all about it while you–” She finally unbuttons it, and your fly quickly zips down, a palm cupping your cock over your underwear.

The moment makes your body lock up, the soft caress of her touch making you sigh out of sheer relief after the tightness of your pants have been removed. “God, you feel so big.” She’s mapping you out, teasing you with light strokes over the fabric blocking the both of you, wanting to feel as much as she can.

Memorializing the very first time she touches your cock, because once she’s pulled the last barrier between you down, neither of you will ever stop.

She’s gone quiet on you now, stuck in an internal debate with herself, before you get asked the most unhinged order you’ve ever heard come out her lips.

“Fuck my thighs while you tell me about those reports, honey.”

Reason Five comes to mind, and you’re too happy to oblige.

Jimin hooks her thumbs over your underwear while yours have come to pull her skirt up, those long legs of hers that pair up with the meaty flesh you call her thighs peeking out from underneath. She’s biting her bottom lip, pulling them down to free your cock and she gasps as it slaps against her skirt, hitting her skin. “Oh my god–”

You’ve pulled her closer, gripping her hips as she stumbles back, your length disappearing in between pillowy heaven, your dick literally getting wet at her juices that have started dripping down her thighs. “How are you this wet, Jimin, what–”

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” she admits, her hips starting to move back and forth, cock slipping in and out between the soft flesh. “I told you, didn’t I? Since the rooftop.”

You’re gritting your teeth, a groan possessing your throat, letting itself loose straight into her ears. Her response is a sultry giggle, never once changing her pace, the slow rocking of her hips as her fingers start to remove the tie around her neck. 

“Those reports, honey?” she sweetly reminds, as if nothing lewd is happening. Like it was another end of the week for her, your usual routine being bastardized with this affair. “Didn’t you want to let me know all about them?”

“Fuck–” Your mind is imploding, each neuron activating in that degenerate-warped frontal lobe of yours. Reports all in the back of the current machinations inside your smoothing brain, the sensation, the idealogy of Jimin’s God-blessed thighs fucking your cock consuming you entirely. 

All you can do is breathe—deep, quick, through your nose, your mouth; you can’t tell anymore. Jimin is fucking you stupid, not with her pretty mouth, not with her more-than-a-handful pair of tits, not with that tight, dripping pussy that you have yet to feel or taste. No, she has you by the balls just with those juicy fucking thighs; of which she is taking full advantage of with a maddeningly slow rock of her hips.

“Oh, is my honey ok?” She’s caressing your cheek, her back arching, her legs tightening around your cock. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” It comes out rough, hoarse, your throat feeling like it hasn’t had the chance to have a drop of water in hours. Your hands give her body a squeeze, an attempt to stabilize yourself back to reality, back to remembering what life was like before this has even happened. 

An impossible task, yet you manage to wring yourself back to a barely functional intellect. “There’s–” You take a deep breath, steadying your thoughts; another unfeasible idea, yet you power through it. “Which one do you want first?”

Jimin pauses, flinging the tie in her hand away to her desk. “Let’s start with that new guy we picked up.” She wiggles her ass at you, your cock slipping upwards and pressing up against her pussy lips. One simple push and you would be in that cunt that’s coating you in another sheen of her juices, yet that’s not what she’s after.

What she is after, is to find out what it would feel fucking her folds while you struggle to let eligible words out of your mouth. Yet it doesn’t matter, her goal ultimately to lube you up even more before she’s taking a hold of your cock, giving you a few pumps as she lets you back to her thighs.

Not a moment’s rest is given, not a reprieve lasting a millisecond bestowed; only the rising need in the both of you to keep this shameless vice on for longer, seeing how far this can be pushed until either of you crack under the pressure. 

“He’s doing good,” you say, slowly, enunciating every syllable you can. Clinging on to them as a way to ground yourself onto something that wasn’t her pillows fucking your shaft. “Yeji pi-picked him up for that freshmen party–” you groan as she takes hold of your arms to bring them up to the top of her button up, your fingers shakily beginning to unbutton each stud. Thankful that it’s another thing to focus on aside from her insistent fucking. “But he might be attracting a problem.”

Jimin chuckles, swaying her hips at you, your cock following as her shirt slowly begins to loosen. “Let me guess,” she says, palms moving up and down your forearm as you reach the mid way point of her shirt. “Giselle?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answer, reaching the very last button. Exposing the white lace hiding underneath, her tits managing to look bigger than they already are in them. Given a top down view of that cleavage that’s mouthwatering, enough to send you back to a brain without wrinkles. “I can–fuck, Jimin–”

She’s brought you back to her chest, shirt all messy and open. Doesn’t even bother to untuck them from her skirt, only asking you–no, demanding that you play with her tits, feeling so soft and heavy under your palms as the lace digs into her chest as you squeeze. 

You’ve felt her breasts before—on the few occasions that you get to cup a feel of them. The common occurrence of her chest brushing along your arm when you pass by each other. Yet this is the time that you get to see them so up close, outside of the prim and proper look she maintains. Get to cup them in your arms, see the flesh jiggle and bounce at each thrust of her hips she sends back.

Lots of firsts today, you realize.

“You can what?” And she’s still playing innocent facade, the guise slowly losing its composure as you grope her chest, your hips beginning to buck forward in rhythm with hers. 

“Can–” you gasp, toying with the underband of her bra, resisting the urge to pull them up and free her breasts. “Can keep an eye on him.”

She moans, arm coming around the back of your neck as her head lolls back, resting in your chest. Only a single word gets uttered out of her lips, and there are so many interpretations to it that any single one you take would bring you to your end.

“Please.”

Allowing yourself the decency to go animalistic, you wrap an arm around her waist, plant your legs firmer on the ground, and start pounding her thighs. Finally letting yourself go, forgetting everything about your reports and work—fixating only on Jimin.

And she’s relinquished control to you, looking up at you with her mouth wide open, symphonies and concertos of beautiful, poetic, perverse sounds. Pleading eyes staring deep into yours as you fuck her thighs harder, knead her tits rougher, yes yes yes, honey please fuck–

Lips meet, and it was an addiction fueled, your need satiating itself with her soft lips that lock together with yours. Tongues melding together in a dance as her moans and your groans echo inside the chamber that were your mouths.

You never once stop your pounding, leaving her chest to reach under her skirt, finding Jimin’s neglected cunt. Leaving her lips in exchange for peppering kisses all over her neck, you rub her folds, fingers circling around them and she’s wailing.

That door better be locked or else this would not end up well for the both of you, and in spite of the danger you can’t find it in yourself to stop this. Already too far gone to even pause for a moment to rest, to have a clear mind. Opting instead to finish what Yu Jimin started, to dirty that pure image she’s built for everyone, because to you, she is anything but.

“Honey, hun–” Jimin’s babbling now, body trembling from the pleasure you’ve assaulted her with. Every bit of her body is being hit—a mark left on her neck, your wrapped arm around her waist coming upwards, holding onto a breast while your other is circling her clit, gushing even more juices down her legs, getting even more friction to fuck her thighs faster.

And you can’t last any longer. Rutting into her without a care in the world, driving into her harder and harder until you feel that stirring in your loins.

“I’m close,” you mutter into her neck, tongue lapping at the mark you’ve left. Her eyes find yours, and you can see the need that’s reflecting in her irises, your own desires matching it. 

“Me too.” It only makes you slam into her harder, the slaps of your flesh consuming the room. Your fingers dare itself to go forward, a lone digit pushing into her folds, inching itself inside her cunt and she peaks.

Jimin keening, back arching as her legs begin to tremble, juices squirting out of her pussy as you pull out of her folds and keep her upright. Your hips still fucking her throughout it, all the more cum that’s substituted as lube slipping your cock in and out of her thighs so fucking easier that it sends you quickly to your own climax.

Your first spurt spills in between thrusts—coating the inside of Jimin’s thighs, and your second hits the inside of her skirt, staining it with a line of white. Her legs are a complete mess as you keep thrusting, your cum leaking all over her smooth skin, combining with her own juices. 

It leaves you spiraling as the last remnants of your load have left you, slumping back against the wall, slowly sliding down until you're sitting down on the floor. Panting as you stare up the ceiling, muttering a curse at the daze this entire situation has left you. Jimin’s right there with you, collapsed against your chest as her own chest heaves, causing a rather precarious position for you when you decide to look back at her again.

You hope that she didn’t notice your cock twitching against her thighs, or else you’re never gonna leave this room alive.

“That was,” she gasps, catching her breath as she lets out a laugh. “Stopping us at the rooftop was the right call.”

You scoff, a smile playing your lips. “And doing this here was any better?”

“Don't see you complaining,” she says, and she was half-correct. She leans up to give you a kiss on the cheek, that smile of hers somehow managing to light up everything around her like she was an angel. Until she speaks, and you get reminded that she is sin incarnate.

“I can feel your cum in my legs.” Her fingers brush against your cock as she scoops up some of your seed, popping a fingerful of it into her mouth. She lets out a hum, and she pops the digit out. “Salty,” she comments, hand coming back down between her legs. “About earlier–” 

She's gone on to remind about the rookie, making sure that Giselle doesn't cause the guy trouble. “She's gotten interested,” Jimin adds, after another tasting of your load. “And you know what that means.”

“Yeah, I know.” It was oddly hot, listening to her talk so serious about work while she's cleaning herself up off your load. “I'll be sure to stick around him when the party goes on full swing.”

“You don't have to,” she says, letting out a whine once she realizes the stain on her skirt. “This is your fault, by the way.”

“Sorry, boss, but you started it,” you shoot back, getting an eyeroll from her.

“Yeah, yeah.” She cuddles up to you, arms resting over yours. “Stick with me during the party, okay?”

“What about the new guy? Yeji won't be able to babysit him.”

“Someone else will.” She brings your hand up to her lips and gives it a kiss. “Ever heard of Asa?”

“Yeah, close friends with him.” She lets out a laugh. “What?”

“Think they're a lot more than that,” she answers, looking up at you. “Don't worry about him, alright? Worry about me.”

You get a bad feeling about where this is going. “And why's that?”

“Because now that we've done this–” A finger points up and down herself. “We are going to be doing so much more.”

“Jimin–”

“Please?” The puppy eyes get to you, and even without this statement of hers, you're expecting it to happen anyway. 

Totally not eager about it yourself, no.

“I'm graduating this year, and you're going to take over my spot next year,” she says, and you're reminded of the fact that this—whatever it is you have with her—won't last forever (Three point five comes to mind, and this needs to be evaluated soon). “Let me have as much time as I can with you.”

“We can still meet once you graduate,” you tell her, and it seems to lift her spirits up by a bit.

“But it's not going to be the same, will it.” You can only nod at that.

“Okay.” You make an impulsive decision, but you know it's one you won't regret. “Anything you want, I'll do it.”

Jimin's gaze snaps to you, and an emotion flashes in her eyes. One that you could barely decipher before she turns and straddles you before coming in for a kiss and it all just clicks.

“Thank you,” she whispers into your lips, and it grows quiet for a while, her embrace the only thing in your mind before—

“I can feel you twitching.”

Jimin's slowly snaking down, getting on her hands and knees until she's eyeing your cock with a hunger returning in her eyes tenfold.

“You said you'd do anything for me?”

You just gave her free rein over you, superseding reason Five, you realize. Her hands wrap around the base of your cock, and all you can do is nod.

“Mind fucking my tits next then?”

When she's trapped your cock in between her bra, pushing her tits together as you begin thrusting into the tight pressure, you lose the reasoning about telling her of other less important reports and instead reach an addendum to reason Five.

Whatever Yu Jimin wants, you'll do it happily.

[jupiterpilgrim]

King for a Day

An Yujin x Naoi Rei x m!reader

word count: 14K

The elevator hums on its way up. Yujin fixes her blazer for the fourth time in thirty seconds. She glances over at Rei, who’s clutching two leather briefcases like a rookie paralegal at a firm that definitely launders money.

"Okay. One more time," Yujin says, cracking her neck. "We arrive, we explain the situation, we get him to sign the contract, and then we do what we came here to do. Simple. Clean. Professional."

Rei nods emphatically, though her grip on the briefcase handles tightens. "I still can't believe we're actually doing this..."

“This is everyday business for powerful people. Breakups, mergers, emotional takeovers. It’s just corporate restructuring with feelings thrown in. You'll get used to it, little bird." Yujin adjusts Rei's collar with two fingers, smoothing a crease that wasn't really there. "Wonyoung demands results. And you are going to deliver. Give it your best, yeah?"

Rei straightens slightly, a spark lighting up her eyes. "Wonyoung’s going to be proud of me!”

"That’s the attitude!" Yujin pats her on the shoulder.

The elevator dings.

The doors glide open straight into your suite - no hallway, no buffer. That’s the kind of place this is. Forty-two floors up, with a private elevator that answers only to you, and floor-to-ceiling windows framing a city that feels curated for your view. You’re standing in the bedroom doorway, halfway through buttoning your shirt, fingers lingering on the third button, when you hear footsteps on marble in a place where you’re supposed to be alone.

Two girls stride out of your elevator like they own the entire building.

You lift an eyebrow. “…How exactly did you two get in here?”

The taller girl moves in first, posture unshaken, like self-doubt has never been part of her vocabulary. Her shoulders are squared, chin angled with precise control - refined, yet quietly intimidating. “I’m An Yujin,” she says, holding out her hand.

You shake it. Her grip is firm, unwavering

The other one, a few centimeters shorter, shifts the briefcases to one hand and gives a small bow that's almost endearing in how formal it is. "Naoi Rei. Pleasure to meet you."

"It was easy to get in here," Yujin continues, already scanning your suite with the casual appraisal of someone who's been inside a lot of expensive rooms. "We can get into anywhere. Think of us like the Men in Black, but without being men."

"And without wearing black," Rei adds, glancing down at her navy blazer.

"Right. We also don't handle UFO events. Or alien immigration. Or memory wiping. Although," Yujin taps her chin, "that last one could be useful sometimes."

You finish buttoning your shirt and fold your arms. "So you have literally nothing in common with the Men in Black."

Yujin pauses. Thinks. "Yeah. That sounded better in my head.”

"My underwear is black, Yujin. That's already a start."

Yujin points at Rei without looking at her. "See? She's committed to the bit. I respect that."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. There are two strangers in your penthouse, one of whom just volunteered information about her underwear, and it's not even noon yet. "Look. As much as I love pretty girls trespassing on my private property, and I want to stress that this is extremely private property, what the hell are you doing here?"

"We're here on behalf of Jang Wonyoung," Yujin says, your eyebrow rises slightly. Now that she's said it, you actually do recognize Yujin. You've seen her at a few events, always orbiting Wonyoung, always laughing too loud at things that probably weren't that funny. Part of the entourage.

"What's this about, exactly?"

Yujin doesn't answer right away. She walks over to your sofa, a twelve-thousand-dollar Italian leather piece you've sat on maybe three times, and drops herself onto it without a shred of hesitation. She crosses her legs and leans back like she's been living here for months. Rei bows slightly, murmurs a quiet "excuse me," and sits down next to her with considerably more grace, placing both briefcases on the coffee table with the care of someone handling evidence.

"So here's the thing," Yujin begins, folding her hands in her lap. "Your relationship with Wonyoung is coming to an end. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this. Well, actually, I'm not that sorry, because I barely know you. But professionally speaking, I'm sorry."

You stare at her.

"It didn't perform as well as she hoped. There were metrics, projections, social media engagement targets, public perception polling, a whole spreadsheet situation. And the numbers just didn't hit. The relationship underperformed across every key indicator." She shrugs. "In other words, you're a flop, darling."

"Thank you for your kind assessment," you say, the sarcasm obvious in every word. "I bet you love what you do, don’t you?”

"Hey, chill, I'm just the messenger. Think of me as the Hermes of the situation." She wiggles her feet. "My winged sandals are by Prada, though…"

You lean against the wall and try to process this. You knew. Somewhere in the back of your mind, past the optimism and the carefully curated date-night photos and the way she sometimes smiled at you when cameras were around, you knew. The relationship was a strategy from the start, something cooked up between Wonyoung's management team and the political arm of your family. Good optics on both sides. You were useful, and she was beautiful, and for a while that felt like enough.

But you'd been hoping, stupidly maybe, that she'd eventually come around. That the dinners would start feeling real. That the hand-holding would stop being choreographed...

Wonyoung is so goddamn gorgeous she fried your brain.

"She could've at least come and told me herself," you say. "Or called. A text, even. Carrier pigeon. Smoke signal. Anything."

"Wonyoung doesn't have time for that," Yujin says, completely matter-of-fact. "She's a global star. Schedule's packed. And to be blunt with you, she doesn't care enough about the relationship to handle this personally. That's what we're for."

That one stings, but it's not a surprise. You exhale through your teeth. "Fine. I get it. But why both of you? With all due respect, it feels like you’re more here to mess with me than actually handle any legal issue.”

Yujin reaches over and pops open one of the briefcases. Inside, a thick contract sits nestled in foam like it's a piece of jewelry. She slides it toward you across the coffee table. "Part of the original relationship contract included a breakup-sex clause. Section fourteen, subsection C. If one of the involved parties declines to personally fulfill the obligation, a consenting third party may represent them."

You blink. "I do not remember that clause."

"It was in the fine print," Rei says, speaking up with the tone of someone who genuinely finds contract law interesting. "It's always important to read and review every document with a qualified attorney before signing. These things have layers. The legal world is full of traps."

"The little bird is right," Yujin nods sagely. "You really should have had better representation."

You run a hand through your hair and try to assemble the sentence correctly in your head before you say it. "So if I'm understanding this correctly, you two came here to have sex with me. In the name of Wonyoung."

Rei nods. "Yeah, that’s pretty much the idea."

"Sorry, I can't do that. That's unethical. That's professional abuse. You're being exploited. Wonyoung is sending you here to sleep with a stranger because she can't be bothered to handle her own breakup. Do you not see how messed up that is?"

Yujin holds up a finger. "First of all, darling, we read our employment contracts. Every word. Every footnote. Unlike some people in this room." She glances at the breakup contract on the table and back at you. "Second, we're both here willingly. One hundred percent. Nobody's being exploited. This is a task we accepted with full knowledge and enthusiastic consent."

"Then it's fine. You can go home. I'm not going to hold a grudge. I'll survive."

"It's not quite that simple." Yujin uncrosses her legs and leans forward, elbows on her knees. "Our job is to make sure you leave this relationship completely satisfied and without resentment. The goal is to prevent any future public bitterness, accusations, tell-all interviews, leaked texts, the works. Wonyoung's PR team was very specific."

"I promise I won't say a single bad thing about Wonyoung. I never have. I wouldn't."

Rei shakes her head gently. "Unfortunately, a verbal promise doesn't constitute a legal guarantee. You need to fulfill the terms of the contract, or there could be litigation."

"Litigation," you repeat.

"Litigation," she confirms, not blinking.

You take a breath. "Wouldn't it have made way more sense to just put a mutual non-disparagement clause in the contract? No public criticism from either side after the breakup. Done. Simple."

Yujin and Rei look at each other. A beat passes.

"That… would have been better," Yujin admits.

"That would have been much simpler," Rei agrees.

"Honestly, that feels like a plot hole." Yujin scratches behind her ear. "But it is what it is. The contract says what it says. We need to make you cum, man. That's the rule of the game. Them's the terms. You’ll be king for a day, so live it up." She slaps both her thighs and stands up. "Besides, Rei already shaved everything for this occasion. Don't let that effort go to waste."

Rei's cheeks flush a shade of pink that's almost impressive in how fast it appears. "I shaved because I wanted to. It had nothing to do with this!"

"Sure it didn't."

"It didn't…”

You look at the two of them. You're tired. It's not even lunchtime and you've been dumped by proxy, threatened with a lawsuit, and propositioned by two women you met four minutes ago. This is, without question, the last thing you needed today.

But you'd be lying if you said they weren't both stunning. Yujin is tall, almost catching up to your height, with long legs that her tailored slacks do absolutely nothing to hide. Dark hair falls past her shoulders, thick and straight, framing features that seem built for trouble.

Rei is different. Softer. Her face is rounder, her features more delicate, with wide dark eyes that make her look endlessly curious. She's shorter than Yujin by a handful of centimeters, and her frame is slimmer, more compact. Her hair is long and dark, parted neatly, falling past her chest. Something in her reads as gentle and careful, as though she’s constantly anticipating what comes next but keeping that knowledge to herself. The blush is still sitting on her cheeks, making her look even more endearing.

Together, standing in your living room in their formal wear, they look like a legal team that accidentally wandered into a very inappropriate comedy movie.

You sigh. A long, defeated, resigned sigh. "Fine. Let's just get this over with."

Yujin grins and claps her hands together once, all business. "Rei. Open the black briefcase again. Get the contract."

Rei nods, turns to the coffee table, and pops open the latch on the nearest briefcase. The lid flips up, and you all three stare at its contents in a brief moment of shared silence. Inside, nestled in neat little compartments, is a full spread of lace lingerie in various colors, two bottles of lubricant, a silk blindfold, a set of what appear to be very expensive restraints, and a few other items you don't even want to identify right now.

"That's the other briefcase, idiot."

"Both briefcases are black, Yujin!”

"One has a silver clasp and one has a gold clasp. I told you this in the car."

"You told me a lot of things in the car. You talked for forty-five minutes straight about how a hotdog is technically a sandwich."

"Because it is. Open the other one."

Rei closes the sex briefcase with a firm snap and reaches for the second briefcase. This one, mercifully, contains a thick stack of legal documents and a matte black pen. She pulls them out and hands them to Yujin, who fans through the pages with ease before turning the whole thing over to you.

"Sign here." She points. "Here." She flips a page. "And here. This document certifies that we have completed our objective and that you agree to all terms and conditions outlined in the original relationship contract between yourself and Jang Wonyoung." She flips to the last page and taps a highlighted section. "And in case of non-compliance, you will be sued for millions."

"How many millions?"

"Many millions. You’d probably have to sell this place to help cover the costs."

Whatever. You read approximately none of the fine print, which is ironic given the conversation you just had about reading fine print. You scrawl your signature across all three lines, grumbling the entire time about how this is the most absurd Tuesday of your life. You hand the contract back. Yujin slots it into the briefcase with the reverence of someone archiving a sacred text.

"Beautiful. Now." She turns to face you fully, hands on her hips. "Do you have any preferences? Sexually, I mean. We'll do basically anything. I personally won't do anal." She jerks her thumb at Rei. "But maybe this one will. She looks like she'd be quite the little slut given the chance."

Rei's back straightens. "Hey, I am not doing anal. That's too kinky. And filthy..."

"Nobody needs to do anal," you say, rubbing your temples. "I don't need to fuck anyone's ass. Can we just… not talk about asses for a second?"

A silence settles over the three of you. It is, without exaggeration, one of the most awkward silences you have ever experienced. You're standing in your own living room with two women you met less than ten minutes ago, a signed sex contract on the table between you, and absolutely no idea what the appropriate next move is. Do you offer appetizers? Put on music? Is there a Spotify playlist for "breakup sex mandated by your ex-girlfriend's legal team"?

"Do you guys want something to drink?"

Rei perks up instantly. "I want a Coke."

"We're not drinking anything," Yujin cuts in. "You can have a Coke on the way home."

"You said that last time and I didn't get a Coke."

"I forgot. I bought one later."

"You bought Pepsi. I don't like Pepsi."

"They taste the same, Rei."

"They absolutely do not taste the same. Coke is better. It's always been better. It's scientifically proven."

You hold up a hand. "I'll give you a Coke before you leave. I have a whole fridge full."

Rei beams at you like you just promised her a pony. Yujin rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers twice, redirecting the room's energy back to the task at hand.

"We should start. Right now. Before this turns into a beverage debate." She reaches back into the first briefcase, the fun one, and pulls out several sets of lingerie, holding them up for your inspection. A red lace set. A black number with straps that seem architecturally impossible. Something white and sheer that leaves less to the imagination than a clear window. "Which one do you prefer?"

You look at the options. You look at Yujin. You look at Rei. "You don't have to wear any of that. I’m fine."

Yujin's face falls. She stares at the lingerie in her hands, then slowly, mournfully, folds each set and places them back in the briefcase. "I arranged all of this for nothing. I spent an hour picking these out. An hour. At La Perla."

"I'm sure they're very nice."

"They're gorgeous. You have no taste." She closes the briefcase. "Fine, Mr. Vanilla. Let's go."

You lead them down the hallway to your bedroom. It's large, open, and minimal. King bed against one wall, floor-to-ceiling windows on the other, clean surfaces, muted colors.

You turn to face them. "So. How do we start?"

Rei raises a tentative hand, half like she's in a classroom. "Maybe a few kisses? To break the ice?"

Yujin is already unbuttoning her blazer. "You two get started. I'm going to warm up."

You watch her shrug off her jacket and toss it onto a chair. "Why do you need to warm up before sex?"

"To avoid joint problems." She rolls her shoulders in slow circles. "Warming up is a fundamental part of any physical activity, including sex. Especially sex. I don't want to wake up tomorrow with neck pain and a tweaked hip because I went in cold." She drops into a lunge, stretching her right quad with absolute seriousness. "You can’t mess around when it comes to your health.”

You sit on the edge of the bed. Rei sits next to you, close but not quite touching. Her hands rest on her thighs, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. You look at her, and she gives you a small, shy smile that makes her round cheeks push up slightly.

"I've never seen you before," you say. "Are you new?"

"I started working with Wonyoung pretty recently. This is actually my first time doing something like this." She glances over at Yujin, who is now doing push-ups in her underwear on your bedroom floor. "Yujin is supervising me. She says I need field experience."

"Field experience."

"That's what she calls it."

In the corner, Yujin knocks out another push-up, perfectly controlled. Her arms flex, and her dark hair pools on the floor beneath her. The girl has form; you'll give her that.

You turn back to Rei. "Can I kiss you?"

She nods. Just a small dip of her chin. With her permission, you reach up and cup her face with one hand, your thumb resting just below her cheekbone. She's warm. Her skin is impossibly soft. You lean in and press your lips to hers, gentle, unhurried. Her mouth is full and plush, and there's a faint sweetness there, something glossy and almost fruity. The kiss stays soft for a few seconds before it deepens, just slightly, her lips parting, the tip of her tongue brushing against yours with a tentativeness that's almost careful. Like she's still figuring out how much of herself to give.

When you pull back, you drag your thumb slowly across her lower lip. The gloss smears just slightly.

"You're pretty," you tell her. "Cute, too."

"Thank you." A faint blush creeps up from her neck. "You're very polite. Most guys just skip straight to grabbing."

"I'm a gentleman. For now."

She bites the inside of her cheek, fighting a smile. "Can I take my clothes off now?"

You nod. Rei stands and starts with her blazer, folding it neatly over the back of a chair. You help her with the buttons on her blouse, fingers working down the front while she unzips her skirt and lets it slide down her legs. She steps out of it, and there she is. Black panties. Black bra. Just like she said.

Her body hits different without the corporate layers hiding it. She’s curvy in a way those formal clothes were clearly trying to keep in check. Full hips, a soft waist, thick thighs that brush together when she shifts. Her chest fills out her bra easily. Her face hasn’t changed though - round cheeks, wide brown eyes, lips still faintly smudged from your kiss. That contrast, innocent face and everything beneath it, makes your pulse spike.

You pull her gently back onto the bed and kiss her again, slower this time, your hand sliding to the back of her neck as you ease her down against the mattress. Her hair fans out across your sheets, dark against white. When you settle over her, careful to hold your weight, she looks up at you and there's this brightness in her eyes, something electric and new.

“You’re a really good kisser,” she murmurs. “Even more handsome in person, too.”

"Rei." Yujin's bark comes from the foot of the bed. She's finished her push-ups and is standing there in nothing but a matching navy bra and panties, hands on her hips, a thin sheen of sweat across her collarbones. "Tone it down with the sweet talk. You're here to accomplish a task, not fall in love with the target."

"What happens if she falls in love?" you ask, still hovering over Rei.

"I'll have to kill her."

Rei's eyes go wide.

Yujin holds the serious face for exactly two seconds, then breaks into a grin. "Kidding! But seriously, this is a professional engagement. Keep it professional."

"You just did push-ups on his floor in your underwear, Yujin. How professional is that?"

"Extremely. That was occupational health and safety." Yujin climbs onto the bed, and the mattress dips under her. She's lean and long, toned arms, flat stomach, legs that don't seem to end. She crawls toward you with a confidence that borders on territorial. "Move over, little bird. I want to see if he's really that good."

She grabs your jaw with one hand, not rough but not gentle either, pulls you off Rei and onto your back, and swings a leg over you. Before you can get a single syllable out, she's kissing you. And where Rei was tentative and sweet, Yujin is immediate and aggressive, her mouth hot against yours, her tongue pushing in without asking permission. She kisses like she's trying to win something. You match her energy, one hand gripping her waist, the other sliding up her back, and she makes a small sound of approval against your lips.

When she pulls back, she's slightly breathless. She wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb and tilts her head, evaluating. "Not bad. Eight out of ten. Room for improvement."

"Tough grader."

"I have standards." She looks down at Rei, who's propped up on her elbows watching the whole thing with mild fascination. Yujin's gaze drags over Rei's body with open appreciation. "She does have a really nice body, though. For someone who only drinks Coke."

"I don't only drink Coke! And I work out."

"When?"

"Sometimes..."

"Wow, that's fucking convincing." Yujin leans down and kisses her. Rei's hand comes up to rest on Yujin's shoulder, and for a moment the two of them are just tangled together on your bed, all lips and skin. Then Yujin pulls away and turns back to you.

"Clothes off. Rei, help me."

They work in tandem. Rei handles the buttons on your shirt while Yujin goes straight for your belt. Your shirt comes off first, and Rei's fingers trail briefly across your chest before she catches herself and pulls back. Your pants follow, Yujin yanking them off your legs with zero ceremony and tossing them somewhere behind her.

Both girls sit back on their heels and look at you. Just your boxer briefs left, and they're not doing a great job of hiding anything.

"Wonyoung picks her boyfriends very well," Yujin says, her gaze traveling across your torso, your arms, down your stomach. "At least she's got good taste in bodies."

Rei's head tilts. "Is it true that you and Wonyoung never actually had sex?"

"Yeah. We kissed a few times, tops. It never went further than that."

Yujin snorts. "That's pathetic."

“Hey, don’t be so harsh,” Rei says.

"No, she's right," you admit. "It was a pathetic relationship. The whole thing was for show."

"Okay, that's enough moping." Yujin flicks your forehead with her finger. "Stop crying. You've got two girls to fuck today. That's a net upgrade from zero. Rei, calm the baby down."

Rei leans over you and starts pressing small, quick kisses all over your face. Forehead. Cheeks. Nose. Chin. The corner of your mouth. Each one leaves a faint lipstick mark on your skin, and she giggles between them. Yujin joins in from the other side, stamping little prints across your jaw and temple.

You can feel them both laughing, their breath warm against your skin, and despite everything, you have to press your lips together to stop yourself from smiling. "Okay. You can stop now,” you say, and they obey, still laughing. “You’re gonna leave me looking like a passport full of stamps.”

Yujin's hand slides south. Her fingers trail down your stomach and settle over the front of your boxer briefs. She palms you through the fabric, and her eyebrows lift, not dramatically, just a little. Her grip adjusts, fingers curling slightly, testing the thickness, the length. You feel yourself twitch against her hand.

Rei reaches over too, her smaller hand pressing against you from the other side, and her lips part just slightly. "It's really big."

"The little bird loves a big cock in her mouth, don't you, Rei?" Yujin squeezes you gently through the cotton, not taking her eyes off Rei's face.

"Maybe..."

Yujin takes Rei's face in her free hand, squishing her cheeks gently between her fingers, and angles her toward you like she's presenting a product. "Look at this adorable little face. These brown eyes. These full lips. Tell me they don't look perfect wrapped around a cock."

The blush on Rei's cheeks darkens, spreading down her neck. She pulls her face free from Yujin's grip. “You’re way more of a slut than I am,” she says flatly.

“Hard disagree,” Yujin shoots back. “That title’s yours.”

“No,” Rei pushes. “You.”

“Still you,” Yujin says.

“Not even close,” Rei pushes back.

They continue this back and forth while their hands work together to tug your boxer briefs down your thighs, over your knees, and off your ankles. Your cock springs free, fully hard, thick and flushed and straining against your stomach.

Both of them go quiet for about half a second.

"Well," Yujin says.

"Yeah," Rei agrees.

Your cock sits between them, heavy and at their complete disposal. Rei makes the first move. Her fingers wrap around the base of your cock, tentative at first, like she's testing the weight of it. Her grip is soft, polite even, and she gives a slow experimental stroke from root to tip. Yujin's hand joins a second later, wrapping around the upper half, and together their fingers overlap and slide in a lazy, uncoordinated rhythm that somehow still feels incredible.

"Okay, he's really hard," Rei murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. Her thumb swipes across the head, spreading the bead of precum that's already gathered there. She watches it with a focus that borders on academic.

"What did you expect? We've been touching him for ten minutes." Yujin adjusts her grip, tighter, more purposeful. She strokes you with a confidence that suggests she's done this more than a few times, her wrist rolling at the top of each stroke. "Rei, match my pace. You're going too slow."

"I'm being gentle."

"He doesn't need gentle. He needs results." They find a rhythm eventually, both hands working you in tandem, Yujin's grip firmer and faster, Rei's softer and more exploratory. The contrast alone is enough to make your hips shift against the mattress. Two different touches, two different temperatures, four hands on you at once. Your cock throbs between their fingers, thick and flushed, and you let your head fall back against the pillow.

Then Yujin leans forward and spits directly onto the head of your cock. A thick, wet strand that rolls down the shaft and over both their fingers. Rei blinks. "Yujin!"

"What? It needs to be wet. I'm providing lubrication. This is a professional service."

Yujin doesn't wait for further commentary. She dips her head and takes you into her mouth, her lips stretching around the tip, her tongue pressing flat against the underside as she slides down. She's sloppy about it on purpose, generating as much spit as possible, pulling back to let long strings of saliva connect her lips to your cock before diving back in. She bobs her head with an efficiency that matches the rest of her personality: fast, aggressive, no wasted motion. Her hand works what her mouth can't reach, twisting on each upstroke.

She pulls off and nudges your cock toward Rei. "Your turn. Show me what you've got, little bird." Rei tucks her hair behind both ears, lowers her head, and takes you in. And immediately goes deeper than Yujin did. Significantly deeper. Her throat opens and your cock slides in past the halfway point, then further, her nose nearly touching your pelvis before she pulls back with a slow, controlled drag. Your stomach clenches. Your fingers grip the sheets.

"What the fuck," Yujin says, watching Rei's throat work.

Rei comes up for air, a thin line of spit trailing from her lower lip. She wipes her chin with the back of her hand. "What?"

"Since when can you do that?"

"I've always been able to do that."

The two alternate. Yujin takes the left side, her tongue tracing the length from base to tip, getting you soaked, spreading spit everywhere with a shamelessness that's almost admirable. Then Rei swallows you deep again, her throat constricting around your shaft, and holds there for a count that makes your toes curl before pulling back.

It's been a long time since anyone has put their mouth on you. Months. Maybe longer. You stayed faithful to Wonyoung through the entire relationship, which in retrospect was probably the stupidest form of loyalty you've ever demonstrated. You very much doubt she showed you the same courtesy, but that's a thought for another day, because right now two beautiful girls are sharing your cock and your brain is having trouble forming complete sentences.

"So," you manage, your breathing a little uneven as Rei takes you deep again. "What do you two usually do when you're not, uh. Working?"

Yujin pulls her mouth off the side of your shaft and gives you a flat look, saliva glossing her chin. "Don't try to engage in personal conversation. This is a professional engagement."

"You're literally licking my dick."

"And it's a perfect dick, by the way. I mean that professionally." She drags her tongue from your balls to the tip in one long stripe. "Professionally perfect. Five stars on the dick Yelp."

Rei surfaces, catching her breath, her lips swollen and shiny. "I like watching anime," she says casually, like she's not kneeling between your legs with your cock an inch from her face. "And I play my Switch 2 a lot. And I listen to music."

"Yeah? Who do you listen to?"

She wraps her hand around you and strokes slowly while she talks, absentminded, like she's forgotten what her hand is doing. "I really like Noah Cyrus. Aphex Twin. Gracie Abrams. Björk. A lot of different stuff."

Yujin groans. "Here we go. She's so performative with this indie shit. She even has a Letterboxd."

"What's wrong with having a Letterboxd?" Rei asks, visibly offended.

"You probably fakelist all those weird movies. There's no way you actually watched Mulholland Drive and understood it.”

"I understood it."

"What's it about then?"

Rei opens her mouth, pauses, then puts your cock back in it instead of answering. A tactical retreat.

"That's what I thought." Yujin grabs a fistful of Rei's hair, gently, and guides her pace. "Stop talking and keep sucking him off. Earn your five stars for best blowjob giver." She leans down and joins her, both their mouths working you simultaneously. Yujin shifts lower, her tongue finding your balls, lapping at them with broad, wet strokes while her hand holds the base of your cock steady. She takes one into her mouth and sucks gently, and you feel it all the way up your spine.

Meanwhile Rei has you deep in her throat again, her nose pressed against your lower stomach, swallowing around you in a way that makes your abs tense involuntarily. She holds there, eyes watering just slightly, then pulls back with a gasp and immediately goes back down.

"She can swallow the whole thing," Yujin observes, pulling off your balls to watch. "She must have sucked a lot of dick to get this good. That's just math."

Rei comes up, flushed. "That's not true. I just have a good throat."

"That's what they all say."

"It's what I say. Because it's true."

"Sure, Rei. And Mulholland Drive makes sense." They both come together at the tip, their tongues meeting around the head of your cock, lapping at it from opposite sides. Rei's tongue slides across the sensitive underside while Yujin circles the ridge, and then their tongues touch, slick and pink, and they kiss over the head of your cock, slow and messy. Yujin bites Rei's lower lip gently before pulling away. Rei's eyes are glazed, her cheeks are red, and there's spit all over her chin.

They pull back. Your cock stands between them, absolutely drenched, twitching against your stomach. Rei leans in one more time and presses a soft, almost tender kiss to the very tip. Just a peck. She looks up at you through her lashes. "Do I deserve five stars?"

"Absolutely,” you reply, sounding slightly breathless. “I'd write a review praising your technique. Detailed. With specific examples."

Her smile is genuine, bright enough to crease her whole face. It’s achingly cute, at odds with her puffed lips and the messy trail of spit and precum glistening on her chin. “That’s so sweet.”

Yujin sits up and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "Okay. Enough of the customer satisfaction survey. It's time to put this cock to work." She pats your thigh firmly. "Let's see if it's just for show or if it has some practical use."

"It has practical use,” you inform Yujin.

"We'll be the judges of that." She settles back on her heels and looks at you expectantly. "So who do you want to fuck first?" Before you can answer, Yujin turns her head sharply to the side and sneezes. Hard. She sniffles, blinks, and waves a hand in front of her face. "Sorry. My rhinitis flares up when I give head. Something about the angle." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "I really need to get that deviated septum surgery. I've been putting it off."

"Take your time."

"I'm fine. Answer the question. Who do you want first?"

"I don't mind. Whoever wants to go."

Yujin gestures at Rei with a tilt of her head. "Rei goes first, then. Since she's already head over heels for you."

Rei straightens up, indignant. "I am not head over heels for anyone. I'm just an affectionate person."

"You kissed the tip of his dick like it was a puppy."

"That's just how I am."

"Great. Then you can be very affectionate eating my pussy while he fucks you from behind. Put all that affection to good use." Yujin is already reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. "Clothes off. Both of us. Let's go." The two of them strip. Yujin's bra comes off first, and her breasts are small but firm, her nipples already stiff. She hooks her thumbs into her panties and peels them down her legs without an ounce of self-consciousness, kicking them off the side of the bed. She's lean all over, slim hips, toned stomach, long legs, with a neat strip of dark hair between her thighs.

Rei takes a little longer. She reaches back and undoes her bra with careful fingers, letting the straps slide down her shoulders before pulling it away. Her breasts are fuller than Yujin's, round and heavy, and they settle against her chest with a softness that makes you stare. She wiggles out of her panties, and true to her earlier claim, she's smooth everywhere. Her hips flare wider than Yujin's, her thighs thicker, her whole body built along softer, rounder lines. She looks like a Renaissance painting someone accidentally dropped into the twenty-first century.

Both of them naked, side by side on your bed, are a sight that your brain is going to be replaying for the rest of your natural life.

Yujin catches you staring. "Have you never seen two naked girls at the same time before?"

"No. Never."

"Seriously? With your money?" She shakes her head with genuine disbelief. "If I had your bank account, my bed would be full of whores every single day. I'd have a subscription service."

"I had a girlfriend."

"You had a business partner. There's a difference." She crawls up the bed and settles against the headboard, sitting upright with her legs parted. She pats the space between them and looks at Rei. "Come on, little bird. Get in position."

Rei gets on all fours. She lowers herself, her elbows resting on the mattress, and settles her face between Yujin's open thighs. Her back arches naturally, pushing her ass up and out toward you. The curve of her spine is ridiculous, dipping down from her shoulders to the swell of her hips, and from this angle you can see everything, the smooth skin between her thighs, the pink of her pussy already glistening. She shifts her knees apart slightly, adjusting, and looks back over her shoulder at you. You're on your knees behind her, your cock still slick and hard, and the two of them are spread out in front of you like something your subconscious could never have conjured on its best night.

You're halfway to lining yourself up when a thought hits you. You pull back slightly. "Wait. Condom. I need a condom."

Yujin doesn't even blink. "Not necessary. We're both clean and on the pill. It's a job requirement. Wonyoung's team is very thorough about health compliance."

Rei turns her head, her cheek resting against Yujin's inner thigh. "We prefer to fuck raw anyway."

Yujin strokes Rei's hair once, almost affectionately. "The little bird is right. Besides, we've already had access to your medical records. Full panel. You're clean too."

You stare at her. "I think it's better if I don't ask how you got access to my medical records."

"Yeah, that would be wise."

You settle back into position behind Rei, your knees sinking into the mattress between her spread thighs. Her ass is pushed up toward you, round and full, and the arch in her lower back deepens the curve of her hips into something that makes your cock twitch. You reach down and run your index and middle fingers together along her entrance, slow, tracing the seam of her. She's soaked. Her lips are plump and pink and slick, and when your fingers drag through the wetness gathered there, she trembles. Not a big shudder, just a fine vibration that runs through her thighs and up her spine. Your fingers slide easily, parting her, feeling the heat radiating off her.

"Please put it in," Rei says, her grip tightening on the sheets near Yujin's hips. "Quickly. Sir."

Yujin's eyebrows shoot up at that. She looks down at Rei, then up at you, and a grin tugs at the corner of her mouth. She says nothing, but the look on her face says plenty. She threads her fingers into Rei's hair and guides her head gently between her legs. "Focus here, little bird. You've got a job to do too."

You take your cock in one hand and press the tip against Rei's entrance. The heat alone is staggering. You push forward, just the head at first, and her body resists for a second before opening around you, tight and slick and deliciously warm. You sink in an inch and stop, letting her adjust. She's so fucking tight it's almost difficult to move. Every fraction you push deeper, her walls grip you, squeeze you, like her body is trying to memorize the shape of you.

Rei exhales shakily into Yujin's thigh. Her fingers curl into the sheets. "My god, his dick..." You give her another inch. Then another. You can feel every ridge of her around you, the wet heat pulling you in, her muscles clenching and releasing in tiny flutters as she stretches to accommodate your thickness. By the time you're halfway inside her, Rei's forehead is pressed against Yujin's pelvis and her breathing has gone shallow and ragged.

"Breathe, Rei," Yujin says from above, her fingers still laced through Rei's hair. "And start licking. Multitask, babe."

Rei lifts her head slightly and lowers her mouth to Yujin's pussy. You watch her tongue extend and make contact, a slow, flat stroke from bottom to top, and Yujin's stomach muscles tighten visibly. Rei licks again, finding her rhythm, her tongue working in careful, measured passes while you continue feeding your cock into her from behind.

"Good girl," Yujin murmurs, and her hips shift against Rei's mouth.

You bottom out. Your hips press flush against Rei's ass, every inch of you buried inside her, and the sensation is so overwhelming that you have to hold still for a moment and just breathe. She's tight and hot and wet and alive around you, her walls pulsing, adjusting, gripping. You pull back slowly, watching your cock slide out of her, glistening, before pushing back in with a long, steady stroke. Rei gasps against Yujin's pussy, and you feel the vibration of it through your own body somehow.

You set a slow pace. There's no rush. Each thrust is full and deep, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in to the base, and you savor every single second of it. The way her body yields to you, the wet friction, the obscene sound of skin meeting skin. You grip Rei's hips with both hands, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh above her ass, and use that leverage to control the depth and angle of each stroke. Her ass ripples slightly every time your hips connect, and the sight of it alone is enough to keep you hard for the rest of the afternoon.

Your eyes lift from Rei's back and find Yujin's. She's sitting against the headboard, legs spread wide, Rei's face buried between them, and she's looking right at you. Not at Rei. Not at the ceiling. At you. Those dark eyes are half-lidded and sharp at the same time, full of something that isn't quite challenge and isn't quite invitation but sits in that dangerous space between the two. She bites her lower lip, slow, letting her teeth drag across the pink of it, and holds your gaze.

"You look good like that," she says. "Behind her. Holding her hips. All that control." Her chin dips slightly. "It suits you."

You thrust into Rei again, unhurried, and watch Yujin's expression flicker as Rei moans against her. "You look pretty good yourself. Legs spread. Holding her hair while she eats your pussy." You push in deep and hold there, grinding slightly, and Rei whimpers. "Speaking of which. How's she doing down there?"

Yujin's breath catches. A low, unguarded moan slips out of her before she can stop it. She recovers quickly, tipping her head back against the headboard. "Pretty good. The little bird has a very skillful tongue. I'll give her that."

"I know. I just had that mouth on my cock. She's talented."

"Mm. Multi-talented." Yujin's hips roll forward against Rei's face, a slow, grinding motion she's clearly trying to keep subtle and failing. Her fingers tighten in Rei's hair. "She's doing this thing right now with the tip of her tongue that's... yeah. That's really good."

You pull back and thrust into Rei harder. Not brutal, but firm enough that the impact travels through her entire body, pushes her face deeper between Yujin's legs. Rei moans, a muffled, desperate sound that vibrates directly against Yujin's clit, and Yujin's thighs clamp around Rei's head for a split second before she forces them open again.

"Fuck," Yujin breathes. "Do that again."

You do it again. A deep, intentional thrust that buries you to the hilt inside Rei, and her whole body rocks forward. She moans louder this time, the sound smothered by Yujin's pussy, and you can see the effect it has in real time: Yujin's stomach flexing, her toes curling against the sheets, her fingers pulling Rei's hair tighter.

"You're using her as a vibrator," Yujin says, and there's a breathlessness in the way she says it that wasn't there before. "That's very resourceful."

"I'm a problem solver."

Rei pulls her head up just long enough to gasp for air, her chin slick, her lips swollen and shiny. "You two are going to break me and I haven't even been here an hour." She sounds wrecked already, her eyes glassy, her cheeks flushed so deep they're almost red.

"Get back to work," Yujin says, pressing Rei's head back down. "You're on the clock."

You settle into a rhythm. Each stroke is measured and full, your hips meeting Rei's ass with a steady, wet impact that echoes off the bedroom walls. You're not rushing. You're not chasing anything. You're just enjoying the feel of her, tight and slick and trembling around you, and the view in front of you is so fucking good it almost doesn't feel real. Rei's back, arched and glistening with the faintest sheen of sweat. Her ass, round and pushed back against you, taking every inch of you like she was built for it. And beyond her, Yujin, watching you with those dark, sharp eyes, her chest rising and falling a little faster than she'd probably like to admit.

You change the angle slightly, tilting your hips upward on the next thrust, and Rei's entire body jolts. She pulls off Yujin's pussy and her mouth falls open, a choked, guttural sound pouring out of her that she clearly wasn't expecting. "There," she pants. "Right there. Please."

"You found her spot," Yujin says, looking at you over Rei's trembling body. "You're getting warmer."

You hit the same angle again, a slow grind that presses the head of your cock against that swollen ridge inside her, and Rei's arms give out. Her chest drops to the mattress, her face turning sideways against Yujin's thigh, and her fingers grip Yujin's hips with a desperation that leaves white marks on her skin. You keep going, maintaining that exact angle, that exact pressure, and Rei is falling apart beneath you in a way that's almost too satisfying.

"Use your tongue, Rei," Yujin reminds her, tugging her hair. "Don't forget about me." Rei, with visible effort, turns her head back and buries her face between Yujin's legs again. Her licking is messier now, less precise, all broad strokes and sloppy enthusiasm, but from the way Yujin's abs keep clenching, it's working just fine.

You lean forward slightly, one hand still on Rei's hip, the other bracing on the mattress, and fuck into her with a slow, grinding pace that never lets her catch her breath. Every time you bottom out, you hold there for half a second, letting her feel the full depth of you, before pulling back and doing it again. Rei is shaking. Her thighs are quivering. And the sounds she's making into Yujin's pussy are getting louder, needier, more broken with every thrust.

"She's dripping all over your sheets," Yujin observes, glancing down between Rei's legs. "Absolutely ruining them. I hope you have a good dry cleaner."

"I'll manage."

"You better. Egyptian cotton isn't cheap." Yujin's hips buck forward against Rei's mouth, just once, a sharp involuntary movement she immediately tries to play off by adjusting her position against the headboard. But you saw it. You saw the way her jaw tightened, the way her fingers gripped a fistful of Rei's hair and held on, the way her thighs tensed and trembled for a fraction of a second.

She catches you watching and narrows her eyes. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Stop smiling."

"I'm not smiling."

"You're smiling with your eyes. Stop it." You thrust into Rei again, deep and firm, and the moan Rei produces into Yujin's pussy makes Yujin's head fall back against the headboard with an audible thud. Her eyes flutter shut. Her chest heaves. And for just a moment, the cocky, controlled, chaos-agent exterior cracks, and underneath it there's just a girl getting her pussy eaten really, really well.

She opens her eyes and finds you still looking at her. Something shifts in her expression. Something warm and a little bit dangerous. "Your turn is coming," she says. "And I'm not going to be as easy as she is."

"Looking forward to it."

Rei lifts her head, breathless, chin soaked, and manages to look over her shoulder at you with half-lidded eyes. "Can you go a little harder? Please, sir?" You grab Rei's hips with both hands and give her exactly what she asked for. The pace shifts from slow and teasing to firm, constant, each thrust landing with purpose and weight. Your hips snap forward and drive deep, pulling back just enough to slam home again, and the wet, rhythmic slap of your skin against hers fills the room like a metronome set to filthy. Rei's whole body rocks forward with every stroke, her knees sliding on the sheets, her fingers clawing at whatever she can reach.

You spread her cheeks with both thumbs, pulling them apart, and the view opens up completely. Her pussy stretched around your cock, pink and swollen and glistening, gripping you on every outstroke like she doesn't want to let you go. Her tight little asshole on full display above it, clenching involuntarily every time you bottom out. Everything wet, everything exposed, everything yours to look at while you fuck her at a pace that's making her lose the ability to form thoughts.

"Don't stop," Rei pants into Yujin's thigh, her face turned sideways because she can barely hold herself up anymore. "Please don't stop. Your dick is too fucking good."

Yujin looks down at her with undisguised delight. Her eyes are wide and bright and she's grinning in a way that suggests she's witnessing something she's been waiting to see for a very long time. The sweet Rei. The polite Rei. The girl who watches anime and plays her Switch and listens to Björk and blushes when someone mentions her underwear. That Rei is currently face-down between another girl's legs, getting railed from behind, and begging for more. Yujin reaches down and strokes Rei's hair away from her flushed, sweaty face like she's petting a cat.

"Look at you," Yujin says, and her tone is somewhere between pride and amazement. "Little miss 'I just have a good throat.' Little miss 'I'm just an affectionate person.' You're a complete slut, Rei."

Rei's fingers tighten on Yujin's thigh. Her back arches deeper, pressing her ass harder against you. "I can't help it." Her eyes are squeezed shut and her mouth is hanging open and the flush on her face has spread all the way down her neck to her chest. "His cock is just too fucking good. It's so thick and it's hitting everything and I can't think straight."

You thrust into her hard enough that her body lurches forward and she lets out a sound that's half gasp, half moan, entirely desperate. You bring your hand down on her right ass cheek, a sharp, clean slap that leaves a pink print on her skin and makes her whole body clench around you. The tightness is staggering. You feel it from the tip of your cock to the base of your spine. "Moan for me," you tell her.

Rei's head drops. Her shoulders tremble. And when you thrust into her again, she lets it out, a raw, unfiltered moan that she doesn't even try to contain. It's loud enough to bounce off the walls of your minimalist bedroom, and it's the most genuine sound you've heard all day.

"Yes, daddy!" The word falls out of her mouth like it's been sitting there waiting for permission. "Spank my ass more. Please. Harder."

You slap her left cheek this time, harder, and Rei's pussy clenches so tight around you that your rhythm stutters for a second. Her skin blooms red under your palm and she pushes back against you, grinding herself onto your cock with a desperation that's completely unrecognizable from the shy, formal girl who handed you a briefcase forty minutes ago.

"Again," she begs. "Please, daddy, again."

You give her another one, right across the curve where her ass meets her thigh, and the moan she produces is broken and raw and so loud that Yujin stops even pretending Rei is going to eat her out anymore. Rei's face is buried in the mattress between Yujin's legs, her mouth open, drool soaking into the sheets, and every thrust you deliver makes her entire body shake.

Yujin shifts her position, sliding her back up the headboard so she can see better. She spreads her legs wider, her left hand drifting between her own thighs, two fingers finding her clit and starting to rub in slow, tight circles. Her right hand stays in Rei's hair, gripping loosely, more for contact than control now.

"Fuck her good," Yujin tells you, her fingers picking up speed between her legs. "Harder. Reset her brain. I want to see her forget her own name."

You grab Rei's hips and pull her back onto your cock as you thrust forward, and the collision draws a sound out of her that isn't even a moan anymore, it's just noise, raw and broken and high-pitched. Her hands are fisted in the sheets so hard her knuckles have gone white. Her back is arched so deep her stomach nearly touches the mattress. And she's babbling, a stream of fragmented, barely coherent pleas that tumble out of her in between gasps. "So deep, you're so fucking deep, I can feel you in my stomach, don't stop, please don't stop, daddy, please..."

"She called you daddy," Yujin says, rubbing her clit faster, her chest rising and falling with quickening breaths. "Twice. The sweet little rookie is calling you daddy. This is the best day of my professional career."

You maintain the pace, steady and relentless, your cock driving into Rei with a consistency that never lets her come down. Every time she thinks she's caught her breath, you're already bottoming out again, filling her completely, your hips pressed flush against her ass. The wet sounds between you are constant and obscene, and Rei's pussy is so slick that every thrust produces an audible squelch that would be embarrassing in any other context but right now just makes you fuck her harder.

"I think I'm gonna cum," Rei gasps suddenly, and her whole body goes rigid. Her walls clamp down on you so hard you can barely move. Her thighs are shaking violently, her toes curling, her fingers tearing at the sheets. "Holy shit. Holy shit, I'm going to cum on your dick. I'm going to cum, I can't stop it, it's right there..."

"Cum for me." You grip her hips and keep your pace exactly where it is, deep and firm, hitting that spot inside her with every stroke. "Cum like a good girl."

"Yes, daddy." Her entire body is vibrating. Her head lifts off the mattress and her back arches and her mouth opens and nothing comes out for a second, two seconds, three seconds. "Yes, daddy, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm—"

Yujin exhales sharply, her fingers a blur between her own legs. "Fuck, it's so hot watching her like this. She's completely gone. I'm almost cumming just from looking at her."

Rei's orgasm hits her suddenly and all at once. Her body locks up completely, every muscle tensed, and then she lets out a sharp, sustained moan that breaks in the middle and keeps going. You feel it around your cock, intense rhythmic contractions that squeeze and release, squeeze and release, her pussy pulsing around you in waves. Her thighs clamp against your hips. Her fingers claw the sheets so hard you hear fabric rip. The flush on her skin darkens to a deep, blotchy red that spreads from her cheeks down her neck to her shoulders.

You slow your pace, dragging it out. Long, deep, lazy strokes that keep her trembling, keep the contractions going, coax every last tremor out of her. Every slow thrust draws another whimper from her, smaller now, softer, her body twitching each time you push in. You can feel the aftershocks rippling through her, her walls fluttering weakly around your cock, and the wet heat between you is almost unbearable.

Gradually, Rei's body goes slack. Her knees give out and she melts onto her stomach, sinking into the mattress with the boneless grace of someone whose skeleton has temporarily left the building. She's still shaking, tiny little aftershocks running through her limbs, and her breathing is ragged and uneven. You lean over her, your chest close to her back, and press your lips to her shoulder. She's warm and damp with sweat and she smells faintly like floral fruity perfume and sex.

Rei turns her head on the pillow and looks up at you. Her eyes are glazed. Her lips are parted. Her hair is plastered to her forehead in sweaty strands. And she's smiling. It's the dumbest, happiest, most sex-drunk grin you've ever seen on a human face, the kind of smile that only happens when someone's brain is still rebooting after a catastrophic pleasure event. "I can't believe Wonyoung never tried your cock," she mumbles, still catching her breath. "What a waste. What an absolute waste. She had this the entire time and she never once sat on it."

"Her loss,” you say.

"Her monumental loss." Rei shifts slightly, wincing at the sensitivity, then settles back into the mattress with a contented sigh. "I barely had one orgasm and I already want more. My legs don't work though. Give me a minute."

"Take your time."

"Nope." Yujin is already moving. She crawls across the bed with the energy of someone who's been watching the previews and is ready for the main feature. She nudges Rei's leg out of the way and settles between yours, her fingers wrapping around your cock, still slick and hard and coated in the evidence of Rei's orgasm. She looks at it for a second, appraising, then lowers her mouth and takes you in.

The taste of Rei's cum on your cock makes Yujin hum appreciatively, a low, sustained vibration around your shaft that sends a shockwave through your hips. She sucks slowly, savoring it, her tongue swirling and pressing, cleaning every inch of you with a thoroughness that's almost meditative. She pulls off with a wet sound and licks her lips.

"Tastes so good," she says, stroking you lazily, her thumb smearing Rei's slickness along the shaft. "Like Coke."

From somewhere behind her, Rei grunts. "Stop it!"

A pillow flies across the bed and catches Yujin in the side of the head. She catches it one-handed before it falls, laughing so hard her shoulders shake, and tosses it onto the floor. "Chill! I’m kidding..." She gives your cock one more long, slow lick from base to tip, then releases you and crawls forward, positioning herself above you.

Yujin straddles your hips, her knees on either side of your waist, her hands flat on your chest. She's lean and warm above you, her dark hair hanging around her face, her small breasts catching the light from the windows. Up close, you can see the thin sheen of sweat on her collarbones, the slight flush across her chest, the way her pupils are blown wide despite the composed expression she's wearing. She reaches back with one hand and takes hold of your cock, angling it upward, and you feel the head press against her entrance, hot and slick. She's wetter than she probably wants to admit.

She holds you there, right at the edge, not letting you in. She looks down at you with an expression that's part challenge, part warning. "Let's see what all the fuss is about." She rolls her hips slightly, teasing, the tip of your cock sliding through her wetness without entering. "I should tell you upfront. I'm not easily impressed. Not like Rei."

From across the bed, Rei lifts her head just enough to protest. "I wasn't easily impressed, his dick is just really good."

"You called him daddy within five minutes."

"He earned it." Yujin ignores her. She adjusts her grip on your cock, positions it exactly where she wants it, and locks eyes with you. "Ready?"

"Yes. Let's see if the professional is really that good."

Yujin's eyebrow lifts. A slow, dangerous arch. "Are you challenging me?"

"I am."

She grins. "You just made a very big mistake." She shifts her weight above you, her thighs flexing on either side of your hips. "New rule. Whoever orgasms first loses. And the loser has to fulfill one request from the winner. Anything. No limits, no negotiations, no backing out. Are you in?"

"Yeah, I'm in,” you say, confidently.

"Good." Yujin sinks down onto your cock. Her jaw tightens and her eyes narrow but she doesn't make a sound, taking you inside her with a controlled patience that's almost defiant. She's tight, not as tight as Rei but tight in a different way, her muscles gripping you with an intentional squeeze that tells you she knows exactly what she's doing with her body. When she bottoms out, her ass flush against your thighs, she lets out a single measured breath through her nose and rolls her shoulders.

From the other side of the bed, Rei is lying on her stomach, chin propped on her hands, watching the two of you with the satisfied, dreamy look of someone who just got thoroughly fucked and is now enjoying the show. She catches your eye and gives you a small, conspiratorial nod. "I'm rooting for you."

Yujin's head whips toward her. "Traitor. Traitor to the entire gender. I'm writing you up for this."

"Write me up all you want. I want him to win."

"You've known him for an hour. I expected a bit more from you.” Yujin turns back to you and starts to move. Torturously slow. She lifts her hips until just the head of your cock is inside her, holds there for a count that feels like an eternity, then sinks back down in one fluid, rolling motion. It's sensual in a way that's almost aggressive, every movement calculated to make you feel as much as possible while she gives away nothing. Her stomach flexes. Her thighs tense. She keeps her eyes locked on yours the entire time, watching for any crack in your composure, any twitch, any tell.

"So," she says, rolling her hips in a slow circle that makes your fingers dig into the sheets. "Do you know what you'll ask for? If, hypothetically, by some miracle, you manage to win this bet?"

You look up at her. At both of them. "I wanna get to know you two better. I want to take you both out. Get dinner. actually having a real conversation instead of just this… transactional sex."

Yujin laughs. "A date? That's your big ask? You could ask for anything and you want to take us to dinner?" She shakes her head, still riding you with that agonizing slowness. "Smart aleck. Trying to charm us. Well, it doesn't matter, because you're not going to win. We'll finish the job today and you'll never see either of us again. We serve Wonyoung."

"I can treat you both better than she does,” you argue.

Yujin's rhythm falters for just a fraction of a second. Barely noticeable. She covers it immediately. "Oh yeah?"

"As people. Not tools for her to dispatch whenever she can't be bothered to handle her own life."

The room goes quiet for a beat. Just the wet, slick sound of Yujin moving on you and the soft rustle of sheets. Then she starts bouncing. Properly bouncing, lifting herself up and dropping back down with a snap of her hips that drives your cock deep and draws a sharp exhale from your chest. Her ass connects with your thighs on every downstroke and the impact sends ripples through her body that you can feel in your teeth.

She's good. She's really fucking good. The way she angles her hips, the way she squeezes you at the top of each bounce, the way she uses her weight on the drop. Her ass is incredible, firm and round, and watching it work as she rides you is pure bliss.

"What about you?" you manage, keeping your breathing even through sheer willpower. "What's your request if you win?"

Yujin's grin turns feral. She leans forward, her hands on your chest, her face close to yours. "I'm going to fuck your ass." You swallow hard. "There's a strap-on in the briefcase in the living room. You're going to be my slut." She punctuates this with a hard downward thrust that buries you to the hilt. "I'm going to bend you over this very expensive bed and make you call me mommy."

Across the bed, Rei buries her face in the pillow. Her ears are bright red. You can hear her muffled squeak of shock through the cotton.

You hold Yujin's gaze. You keep your expression perfectly flat, perfectly unbothered, even though she's riding your cock like she's trying to break it. "Then maybe you'd better try harder. I've had better rides from girls before."

Her face changes instantly, the playful confidence slipping away as raw irritation takes its place. Her jaw clenches, her eyes narrow, and she starts riding you harder, slamming herself down with a ferocity that shakes the entire bed frame. Her pace doubles, then triples, her hips working furiously, the wet slap of skin against skin filling the room in a relentless rhythm. She's going to make you cum through sheer force of will and spite, and honestly the strategy isn't bad.

But it's costing her. Her breathing is getting ragged. Short, sharp inhales through her nose, quick exhales through parted lips. And the moans, the ones she's been holding back since this started, are beginning to leak out. Small ones at first, barely more than breathy gasps, but they're growing in volume and frequency with every passing second. Her thighs are trembling. The flush across her chest is deepening. "Rei." Yujin's composure is cracking and she knows it. "Help me. Do something. Get over here."

Rei lifts her head from the pillow and looks at you, questioning. You give her a small nod. It's fine. She crawls across the bed to your side, her body still flushed and marked from her own session, and lowers her mouth to your chest. Her lips close around your left nipple and she sucks gently, her tongue flicking across the sensitive skin, and the added sensation sends a jolt straight down your spine to your cock. Rei's hand rests on your stomach, warm and grounding, and she alternates between soft licks and gentle suction, her eyes closed, completely content in her supporting role.

You place both hands on Yujin's waist. Your thumbs press into the grooves of her hip bones and you guide her rhythm, not changing it, just steadying it, controlling the angle so that every time she drops down your cock hits exactly where it needs to. Yujin lets you, too focused on maintaining her pace to fight the direction, and the adjustment makes her next moan come out louder than the ones before.

You watch her. The way her stomach flexes with every movement. The way her small breasts bounce with each impact. The way her dark hair swings and sticks to the sweat on her neck and shoulders. The way her lips part and her brow furrows with concentration and barely contained pleasure. She's stunning. Absolutely, unreasonably stunning, in a way that's completely different from Rei's softness, all sharp angles and lean muscle and controlled power that's currently losing its grip. "You're gorgeous," you tell her.

Her eyes snap to yours. "What?"

"You're gorgeous. I'm looking at you riding me and you're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen." Something complicated happens on Yujin's face. She tries to smirk but it comes out uneven, one corner of her mouth lifting while the other trembles. Her rhythm stutters and she has to reset, grinding down on you to find her pace again. "More gorgeous than Wonyoung?"

"Yes. A lot more."

The reaction is subtle but it's there. A softening around her eyes. A looseness in her shoulders that wasn't there before. Her fingers, braced on your chest, press a little harder, like she's anchoring herself to something. She liked it. She liked it a lot, and she's going to go to her grave before she admits that out loud. "You just broke up with your girlfriend," she says, and her attempt at a dismissive tone is undercut by the breathlessness in every syllable, "and you're already hitting on someone else. You're a slut. All men are the same. Every single one."

Rei detaches from your nipple, her chin resting on your chest, and looks up at Yujin with raised eyebrows. "You're being too bratty."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Rei's hand squeezes your stomach once, encouraging. A grin spreads across her face, still loopy from her own orgasm. "Daddy, put her in her place."

You tighten your grip on Yujin's waist. She sees the shift in your expression half a second before she feels it, and her eyes widen just slightly. "Wait, what are you..." You plant your feet flat on the mattress and thrust upward. Hard. A single, powerful stroke that drives your cock deep inside her and lifts her knees off the bed for a fraction of a second. The sound that comes out of Yujin's mouth is loud and unguarded and completely involuntary, a full, open moan that she claps her hand over a second too late.

"Oh fuck," she whispers behind her fingers.

And you don't stop. You grab her hips and start fucking her from below, driving up into her with a pace that's fast and punishing and completely controlled. Every thrust is deep, the kind of deep that makes her stomach clench visibly, and you're not letting her set the rhythm anymore. She's riding you but you're the one in charge now, using your grip on her waist to pull her down onto every upstroke, meeting her body with a force that turns her controlled bouncing into something messy and desperate.

The transformation is immediate. Yujin's hands drop from her face to your chest for stability, her fingers splayed, her nails digging in. Her head falls forward, hair curtaining around her face, and the moans are coming freely now. Real moans. Loud, surprised, helpless moans that she couldn't stop if she tried. Her thighs are shaking against your sides, her abs are twitching, and the wet sounds between you have gotten louder, sloppier, more urgent.

"Oh my god," she breathes, and her hips jerk involuntarily. "How are you... what the fuck, how are you this..."

"This what?" you ask, not slowing down.

She grits her teeth, refusing to finish the sentence, but another deep thrust pulls a whine from her that answers the question anyway. Her back arches and she grinds down onto you, trying to find some control, some leverage, and you give it to her for exactly two seconds before slamming up into her again and watching her composure shatter.

You shift the angle slightly, tilting your hips, and on the next thrust you feel Yujin's entire body seize. Every muscle locks, her nails claw into your chest, and the moan that tears out of her throat is so raw and so loud that it makes Rei's eyebrows shoot up. You found the spot. You keep the angle and fuck into it relentlessly, steady and deep and unforgiving, and Yujin's composure doesn't just crack, it collapses.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chants, her head thrown back, her throat exposed, her body bouncing on you helplessly. She's not riding you anymore. She's holding on. "You're so fucking deep, oh my god, you're so fucking deep and hard and I can't..."

She catches herself. Bites down on her lower lip so hard it goes white. Straightens up and plants her hands on your stomach, trying to wrestle back control. Her hips start moving again, grinding in slow circles, and she looks down at you with an expression that's equal parts furious and aroused. "I'm not losing this bet," she says, and the tremble in her thighs says otherwise.

Rei rolls onto her side, propping her head up on one hand, watching Yujin bounce on your cock with the serene satisfaction of someone who already got hers. "You really don't look like someone who's winning, Yujin."

"If I don’t peg his ass," Yujin pants between thrusts, her thighs trembling around your hips, "I'm fucking yours."

"Mm, I don't think so." Rei stretches lazily, running her fingers along the damp sheets. "After daddy makes you cum, you're not going to have the strength to get out of this bed. Trust me. I speak from very recent experience."

Yujin grinds down on you, her jaw tight, sweat rolling down her neck into the valley between her breasts. She shakes her head, stubborn to the bone. "His dick isn't even that good. Very overrated. All this hype for a solid six out of ten at best."

You plant your feet and drive up into her so hard that her hands slip off your chest. Her eyes roll back, her whole body jolting, and the moan that comes out of her is guttural and helpless and completely involuntary. She catches herself with both palms flat on your stomach, fingers splayed, panting, and for a second she just stays there, impaled on you, her brain clearly buffering.

You look at Rei. "Give me some space." Rei scoots back immediately, pulling a pillow with her, settling in cross-legged near the foot of the bed with the eager posture of someone who just got front-row seats to the best show of her life. You turn your attention back to Yujin, who's still trying to reassemble her composure above you. "You sound a lot better moaning than you do talking all that bullshit."

"That's so fucking rude,” she grumbles. “You don't get to tell me when to talk and when to..."

You tighten your grip on her waist. Both hands, firm, fingers digging into the lean muscle of her hips. In one fluid motion, you lift her off your cock, shift your weight, and flip her onto her back on the mattress. The air leaves her lungs in a sharp gasp as her shoulders hit the sheets, her hair fanning out around her head, her legs falling open on either side of you. Before she can process the change in position, you're already between her thighs, one hand pressing her hip into the mattress, the other guiding your cock back inside her. You push in with a single, deep stroke that fills her completely, and Yujin's entire body arches off the bed.

"Oh, fuck—" Now you're on top. Now you're in control. And from the way Yujin's eyes have gone wide and glassy, she knows it too. You set a pace that's fast and hard and unrelenting, your hips slamming into hers with a force that shakes the headboard against the wall.

Each thrust drives deep, bottoming out, and the wet, obscene sound of your cock pounding into her fills the room alongside Yujin's increasingly desperate moaning. Her legs wrap around your waist instinctively, her heels digging into the small of your back, pulling you closer even as her hands push against your chest in a confused, contradictory bid for some kind of control she's already lost.

"You're such a fucking asshole," she spits, but her pussy is clenching around you so tight with every thrust that the insult loses all its teeth. "You absolute piece of shit, you think you're so fucking special because your dick is big and you can last a long time, you arrogant, smug, insufferable..."

"Keep going." You thrust harder, deeper, angling your hips to hit that same spot that made her fall apart earlier. "Every time you insult me, I just want to fuck you harder."

"You're the worst lay I've ever had." Another thrust. She chokes on a moan. "You have no technique. Zero finesse. You're just a rich boy with a big cock and no personality."

"That's a lot of talking for someone who's shaking."

"I'm not shaking." She's shaking. Her entire body is trembling beneath you, her thighs quivering against your ribs, her stomach muscles twitching every time you bottom out. The insults keep coming but they're getting shorter, more fragmented, punctuated by moans she can't swallow anymore.

You bring your right hand up and place it on her throat. Not squeezing. Not choking. Just resting there, your fingers curled around the column of her neck, your thumb against her pulse point, a firm, steady pressure that says everything without applying any real force.

Yujin's reaction is nuclear. Her eyes blow wide, her back arches so sharply that only her shoulders and hips are touching the mattress, and the sound that comes out of her mouth is raw and loud enough to make Rei flinch at the foot of the bed. Her hands fly up and grab your wrist, not to pull your hand away, but to hold it there. Her fingers wrap around your forearm and grip so hard you can feel her nails leaving crescents in your skin.

"Oh my god," she breathes, and her pussy clenches around you so hard your vision blurs for a second. "Oh my fucking god."

"Holy shit," Rei whispers from the foot of the bed. She's sitting forward, her eyes huge, her lips parted, her thighs pressed together. "That's so hot. That's so incredibly hot. Fuck her, daddy. Fuck her harder." You maintain the hand on Yujin's throat and pound into her, your hips relentless, each stroke driving so deep you can feel her cervix, feel the full length of you burying inside her again and again. Yujin's legs tighten around you, her heels locked behind your back, and she's pulling you into her on every thrust, her body working against her brain's protestations.

She's fighting it. You can see the battle playing out in real time on her face, the way she bites her lip, the way she squeezes her eyes shut, the way she tries to slow her own breathing. She's fighting the orgasm with everything she has, refusing to let it happen, refusing to lose. Her jaw is clenched so tight the muscles in her neck cord beneath your palm. "I'm not going to cum," she says through gritted teeth, but it comes out like a plea, not a statement. "I'm not. I refuse. I don't lose. I never lose."

"Cum on his cock, Yujin." Rei has crawled closer now, kneeling beside the two of you, her face flushed, her eyes bright with a wildness that wasn't there an hour ago. "Just let it go. It's going to be the best orgasm of your life. I promise."

"No." Yujin shakes her head against the pillow, her hair sticking to her face. "No, no, no, I'm not going to..." You hit the spot again. Hard. And hold there, grinding the head of your cock against that swollen ridge inside her while your thumb presses just slightly firmer against the side of her throat. Yujin's mouth opens. Her eyes go wide. Her hands fly from your wrist to the sheets, fisting the fabric.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck..." It pours out of her in a continuous, panicked stream, each repetition higher and more desperate than the last. Her hips are bucking up against you, meeting your thrusts with involuntary, frantic movements she's clearly not controlling anymore. The flush on her chest has spread to her face, her neck, her ears. "You're going to make me cum. Damn it. Damn it, you're going to make me cum."

"That's it," Rei breathes, leaning close to Yujin's ear, her hand finding Yujin's thigh and squeezing. "Cum for him. Make her cum, daddy. Fuck it out of her."

Yujin's body goes rigid beneath you. Every muscle locks. Her back arches, her thighs clamp around your waist like a vice, the orgasm hits her and her mouth opens in a scream that your hand on her throat compresses into a strangled, ragged moan, muffled but still audible, still raw, still the loudest thing in the room. You feel it around your cock, a violent, rhythmic clenching that squeezes you in waves, her entire body convulsing beneath you, her hips jerking against yours in uncontrollable spasms. Her eyes are squeezed shut and there are tears at the corners, not from pain, from intensity, from the sheer overwhelming force of what's ripping through her.

You release her throat.

The sound that erupts from Yujin is unholy. A full, unrestricted moan that tears itself from her chest and fills the room, followed immediately by a series of gasped, broken syllables that aren't really words anymore. Her hands fly to your arms, gripping your biceps, and her whole body starts shaking, genuine, full-body tremors that make the bed vibrate beneath you.

"You won." It comes out wrecked, barely intelligible. "Damn it. You won. Fuck. I can't take it anymore. Stop. I can't..."

But you don't stop. You keep the same pace, your cock driving into her still-spasming pussy, and the hypersensitivity hits her like a second wave. Her eyes snap open and they're unfocused, pupils blown, tears tracking down her temples into her hair. Her mouth moves but nothing coherent comes out for a few seconds, just gasps and whimpers and fragments of sounds.

"She can take it." Rei's kneeling beside Yujin with a grin on her face that borders on feral. "She's a slut. Keep going."

"No no no no, fuck, please." Yujin's head thrashes on the pillow, her nails dragging red lines down your arms. "Daddy, no. Please, daddy, stop. You're going to make me cum again if you keep going like this. I can't. My body can't. Please."

That's exactly what you want. You grab her thighs and push them wider, opening her up completely, and fuck into her with everything you have. Deep, hard, constant, targeting that same angle, that same spot, and Yujin's protests dissolve into a continuous, high-pitched moan that climbs in pitch with every thrust. Her hands grab at everything, your arms, the sheets, the pillow behind her head, the headboard. Her body is arching and writhing beneath you, completely out of her own control.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming, oh god I'm cumming again, I can't stop it, it's happe—”

The second orgasm slams into her harder than the first. Yujin screams, a real scream, sharp and loud and broken, and her body bows off the mattress. You feel a sudden rush of warmth around your cock, slick and hot and forceful, and then you see it. She's squirting. A hard, pulsing spray that soaks your stomach, your thighs, the sheets beneath her. It just keeps coming, her pussy clenching and releasing in violent contractions around your cock, each one pushing out another warm jet.

Rei's eyes go enormous. For exactly one second, she stares. Then she moves.

Her hand shoots between Yujin's legs and two fingers find Yujin's clit, exposed and swollen and drenched, and she starts rubbing. Fast. Hard. Aggressive circles with her fingertips pressed flat against the sensitive nub, and the effect is immediate and devastating. Yujin's squirting intensifies, the spray arcing higher, soaking Rei's wrist and forearm, splashing against your abs. Yujin's screams have gone silent, her mouth open, her body locked in a sustained convulsion, only her heels and shoulders touching the bed.

Rei giggles, bright and delighted, watching the chaos Yujin is making with the same breathless fascination as someone mesmerized by a burst of fireworks. "Look at all of that. Look at her go. She's making such a mess." Her fingers don't stop, rubbing Yujin's clit with a relentless enthusiasm that borders on cruel, and every pass of her fingertips draws another gush from Yujin's trembling body. "Come on, Yujin. Give us more. I know you've got more."

Yujin's hand grabs Rei's wrist weakly, trying to push her away, but there's no strength behind it. Her body is spent, wrung out, every muscle exhausted from the sustained intensity of two consecutive orgasms. She's making sounds that aren't moans or screams but something in between, small, broken, hitching gasps, her chest heaving, her stomach flexing with each aftershock.

You pull out. Slow, careful. And as your cock slides free, one last jet of clear fluid pulses from Yujin's swollen, flushed pussy, splashing against your thigh before trailing down between her legs and pooling on the already ruined sheets. Rei finally pulls her hand away, her fingers glistening, and wipes them on the sheet next to Yujin's hip with a casual nonchalance that makes you shake your head.

Yujin lies there. Breathing. Trembling. Her legs are still spread, too heavy to move, and her arms are limp at her sides. Her hair is a dark, tangled mess across the pillow. Her skin is flushed from her face to her navel, blotchy and pink and damp with sweat. Her eyes are closed and her lips are parted and her chest rises and falls in deep, unsteady rhythms that gradually, slowly, begin to even out.

You lean down and press your lips to her cheek. Soft. Unhurried. You can taste the salt of her sweat on her skin. "Looks like I won."

Yujin's arms come up and wrap around your neck. She pulls you down against her, tight, her face burying into the crook of your shoulder. She's holding you like someone who just survived something, her fingers gripping the back of your neck, her body still trembling in small aftershocks against yours. The embrace is fierce and needy and completely at odds with everything she's projected since she walked out of that elevator. You let her hold on. You settle your weight carefully, not crushing her, and let her take what she needs.

Rei tilts her head, watching the two of you with a soft, teasing smile. "Look at that. Daddy softened up the bratty girl."

"Shut up," Yujin mumbles into your shoulder, but there's no harshness in it. There's barely any volume.

You pull away slightly, just enough to meet her gaze. Her eyes are open now, softer, different - no more sharpness. Just a stunned, wide look, like she’s still trying to piece together what just happened. Her lips are swollen and her mascara has smudged slightly at the corners of her eyes and she looks completely, thoroughly, beautifully wrecked.

She grabs the back of your neck with one hand and pulls you down into a kiss. Not teasing, not competitive, not calculated. Hard. Deep. Her mouth opens against yours and she kisses you with a hunger that tastes like surrender, her tongue pressing against yours, her teeth catching your lower lip. Her other hand comes up to cup your jaw, holding you there, and when the kiss finally breaks she doesn't let you pull away. She keeps your face close, her forehead against yours, and brushes her nose against yours. Once. Twice. An almost unbearably tender gesture from someone who, five minutes ago, was calling you every name in the book.

A small, mischievous smile curls the corner of her mouth. Her thumb traces your jawline. "That was the best orgasm of my life," she murmurs, her breath warm against your lips. "Motherfucker. Congratulations."

Yujin turns her head on the pillow and looks at Rei, who's sprawled out on her stomach beside you both, chin resting on her folded arms, looking entirely too pleased with herself. Yujin narrows her eyes. "You were way too harsh on me back there. The little bird has claws."

Rei shrugs one shoulder, not even a little apologetic. "It was really fun. And you had it coming."

"I had it coming?"

"You called me a slut like four times today."

"That's because you are one. But fine." Yujin's mouth twitches. Something almost warm passes through her expression. "I'm proud of you. You were vicious. I respect vicious."

"Thank you. I learned from the best."

"Damn right you did."

You shift onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow. "So. I won."

Yujin groans and presses the pillow over her face. Her response comes out muffled through Egyptian cotton. "Yes. You won."

"Which means you owe me a date. Both of you."

She pulls the pillow down just enough to glare at you with one eye. "You're going to complicate my life so badly."

"That seems fair. You two showed up at my apartment unannounced, broke up with me on behalf of my fake girlfriend, threatened me with a lawsuit, and then fucked me. I think one dinner is a pretty mild complication by comparison."

Yujin lets the pillow drop and stares at the ceiling. She exhales slowly, her chest still rising and falling a little faster than normal, the flush on her skin only now beginning to fade. "If Wonyoung finds out, Rei and I are done. Not just fired. Done. She's not the forgive-and-forget type."

"She really isn't," Rei agrees, but her tone is remarkably casual for someone discussing career annihilation. She traces a pattern on the sheet with her fingertip.

"I know she isn't," you say. "Wonyoung's petty. Always has been. She wouldn't care that she dumped me. She'd care that you two are seeing me, because in her head, everything that was hers stays hers. Even the stuff she threw away."

Yujin looks over at you, a subtle flash of surprise in her eyes, as though hearing her own thoughts echoed back in a way she didn’t expect. "That's... exactly right, actually. She'd do so much worse than fire us."

"I know. But she's not going to find out anytime soon. And if she does, I'll handle it. That's my problem, not yours." You hold her gaze. "I've dealt with petty rich people my entire life. I come from a family of them. I know how the game works."

Yujin chews the inside of her cheek, considering. She turns to Rei. "What do you think?"

"Yes!" Rei says instantly.

"Girl, I hadn't even finished the question."

"You were going to ask if we should go on the date. The answer is yes. I don't need to think about it."

Yujin squints at her. "Fifteen minutes ago you were a nervous intern who couldn't open the right briefcase. Now you're making life-altering decisions in half a second?"

"I've had a productive afternoon." Rei rolls onto her side to face both of you, tucking one arm under her head. "I thought I admired Wonyoung. Before I started working with her, I really did. She was this incredible, untouchable person and I wanted to be around that." She pauses, picking at a loose thread on the pillowcase. "Then I actually started working with her, and I saw how she treats people behind closed doors. The way she talks about them. The way she throws them away when they stop being useful." Her eyes drift to yours briefly. "My admiration kind of eroded after that."

The room sits with that for a second. Nobody fills the silence.

"Okay." Yujin pushes herself up on her elbows. "One date. Just one. To see how it goes." She points at you with a finger that still isn't entirely steady. "Don't get your hopes up. I just need to add some variety to my life. Everything's been work, Wonyoung, work, Wonyoung, repeat. A girl needs some seasoning."

"Noted. No hopes. Very low expectations."

"Extremely low. Rock bottom. Subterranean."

"Got it."

Yujin shifts her weight and her hand drifts down between you. Her fingers find your cock, still hard, still flushed and thick against your stomach, and she wraps around it loosely. She gives it a slow, lazy stroke, and then stops. She looks down at it. She looks up at you. "You didn't cum."

"Nope."

"How." It's not a question. It's an accusation. She strokes you again, slow, her thumb circling the head, and watches your cock twitch against her palm. "No guy has ever lasted through me riding them. I've broken every man I've been with. Every single one. And you just... sat there and flipped me over and kept going."

"I've always had good stamina." You fold your arms behind your head, casual, even though her hand on your cock is making it hard to project total nonchalance. "I can get pretty competitive sometimes. Especially when someone threatens to peg me."

Yujin's teeth catch her lower lip. She's trying not to smile and failing at it, a slow, reluctant grin spreading across her face that she absolutely cannot contain. Her hand keeps stroking you, absentminded, her fingers exploring your length and girth like she's cataloguing it for future reference. "I like that," she admits. "I like a guy who doesn't fold."

Rei yawns and stretches, her back arching, her body unfurling against the sheets. The movement is lazy but it draws your attention to every curve, every line, the fullness of her thighs, the soft weight of her breasts shifting as she moves. She catches you looking and doesn't shy away from it this time. "Anyway," Rei says, rolling her neck. "This is all very sweet, but I'm still really horny."

Yujin releases your cock and rolls her eyes so hard her whole head moves. "She's insatiable. One orgasm and she turns into a monster."

"Your fault. You brought me here."

"Fine. Since you're so worked up, go ahead and let him fuck your ass then."

Rei pauses. Looks at you. Looks at Yujin. takes one brief, unashamed look down and shrugs. "Okay."

You sit up slightly. "Hold on. I thought anal was too kinky and filthy. Your exact words."

"I changed my mind." Rei says this with the serene conviction of someone announcing they've decided to try a new restaurant. "A girl can change her mind."

Yujin barks out a laugh. "Please. She's always liked anal. The whole innocent act was bullshit. I knew it the second she said it." She gestures at Rei like a prosecutor presenting evidence. "Look at her. That angelic face. Those big brown eyes. That thick ass." She shakes her head. "Anyone with a functioning brain can see that girl loves a cock in her ass. It's practically tattooed on her forehead."

Rei blinks, and for the first time, she looks genuinely caught off guard. "Is it that obvious? Can people actually tell?"

"Rei. Babe. Everyone who has ever looked at you knows immediately."

"Everyone?"

"It's the combination. The sweet princess face and the body that won't quit. It broadcasts a very specific frequency." Yujin swings her legs off the bed and stands, still naked, still glistening faintly with sweat. "I'm getting the lube from the briefcase. Don't start without me."

She pads out of the bedroom on bare feet, moving with the easy confidence of someone who's entirely comfortable being naked in a stranger's penthouse. The view from behind is excellent. Her ass, round, full, juicy and still faintly pink where the sheets creased against her skin, disappears around the corner.

The second Yujin is out of earshot, Rei scoots closer to you. She puts a hand on your chest and leans in, her lips near your ear, she murmurs: "She called you daddy."

You look at her. "I caught that."

"While you were fucking her. Multiple times." Rei pulls back and grins at you, her nose scrunching. "She was begging. Actual begging. 'Daddy please, daddy no, daddy stop.' She's going to pretend it didn't happen."

"Probably."

"She likes to act all tough and unbothered, like nothing gets to her. But she loves being put in her place. She needs it." Rei taps your chest once with her index finger. "She's been waiting for a guy who wouldn't buckle. Every other guy she's been with folded the second she started pushing. You pushed back harder. That broke her brain."

"You figured all that out in one afternoon?"

"I'm observant." Rei smiles, and there's nothing shy about it anymore. "Also, she talks in her sleep during naps at the office. Very revealing stuff."

You hear Yujin's footsteps coming back down the hall. Rei immediately scoots to a respectable distance and adopts an expression of pure, guileless innocence. The transformation is so seamless it's almost frightening. Yujin rounds the corner holding a bottle of high-end lubricant. She tosses it onto the bed, where it bounces once and lands between Rei's knees. Her gaze flicks between the two of you, eyes narrowing.

"You were talking about me."

"We absolutely were not," Rei says, and she sounds so sincere that even you almost believe her.

Yujin stares at her for two full seconds, then decides she doesn't care enough to pursue it. She climbs back onto the bed and grabs Rei's shoulder, spinning her around. "All fours, little bird. Show's about to start."

Rei catches your eye one more time as she moves into position, and the look she gives you is quick and private and full of mischief. Then she turns, plants her hands on the mattress, and arches her back. Yujin pops the cap on the lube with her thumb. She squeezes a generous amount directly onto Rei's ass, a thick, clear line that drips between her cheeks, and then another dollop onto her own palm. She rubs her hands together, warming it up.

"This one heats up," Yujin says, spreading the lube across Rei's skin with slow strokes. Her fingers glide over the curve of Rei's ass, working the slick between her cheeks, coating everything thoroughly. "High-end stuff. Wonyoung's company card paid for it, so you know it's premium."

Rei shivers. Her back dips and her fingers curl into the sheets. "That feels really good. The warming thing is nice."

"Of course it does. You love being pampered." Yujin's thumb traces a slow circle around Rei's tight hole, spreading the lube, not pushing in yet. Just getting her used to the contact. "And your absolute favorite pampering is a thick cock in your ass. Isn't that right?"

Rei presses her face into the mattress and says nothing, which is an answer in itself. You lean back against the headboard, watching Yujin work. Her fingers are careful, attentive, making sure every inch is slick and warm. It's the kind of consideration that comes from actually giving a shit about someone, not from following a job description. "You don't seem like Wonyoung's biggest fan," you say.

Yujin doesn't look up from what she's doing. "Wonyoung is my boss. I do what she tells me to do. End of story."

"I don't know. Seems like there's more to it."

Her fingers pause on Rei's skin for just a fraction of a second. "Who are you, Sherlock Holmes?" She resumes, her thumb pressing gently against Rei's rim, applying just enough pressure to tease without entering. "Put the magnifying glass away."

"Just making conversation."

Yujin stays quiet for a few seconds. The only sounds are Rei's soft breathing and the wet, slick noise of lube being worked into skin. Then, without prompting, Yujin says, "We used to be closer. Me and Wonyoung. It wasn't always a boss-and-employee thing. There was more to it than that."

You wait. Don't push.

"If you're going to ask what happened, don't bother. Better question is what didn't happen." She squeezes more lube onto her fingers and slides one fingertip just barely inside Rei, who exhales slowly and pushes back against the intrusion. "I don't like talking about it. It's boring and depressing and I've spent enough energy on that woman for one lifetime."

The subject closes itself. You let it go. Yujin works her finger deeper into Rei with a patience that borders on surgical, rotating slowly, letting her adjust, and Rei's breathing gradually shifts from tense to steady to something that sounds a lot like enjoyment. She's rocking her hips back in small, barely-there movements, instinctive, chasing the feeling.

After a moment, Yujin speaks again. Quieter this time, her eyes still on her own hand. "Did you mean what you said earlier?"

"About what?"

"That I'm prettier than Wonyoung."

There it is. Past all the attitude, the sarcasm, the Theatrical indifference - this. A question she couldn't bury, surfacing again the moment she convinced herself enough time had gone by to make it seem offhand. "Yeah. I meant it."

"Why, though?" She adds a second finger alongside the first, scissoring gently, stretching Rei open. Rei whimpers into the mattress, her toes curling. "Wonyoung is one of the most beautiful women on the planet. That's not even an opinion. There are rankings."

“Rankings are bullshit.” You keep your eyes on her. “There’s something in your eyes, Yujin. The way you look at people, the way you talk, even when you’re being a pain in the ass. There’s a spark there. You feel… I don't know, alive? Present?” You pause, choosing your words. “Wonyoung’s stunning, yeah, but she’s like a photograph. Perfect, but still. You’re not. You’re always moving. That’s why it’s so hard to look away from you.”

Yujin's hand goes still inside Rei. For a couple of seconds she just stares at you, and something passes across her face that she doesn't manage to hide in time. Her throat bobs with a swallow. Then she blinks, resets, and the classic Yujin is back, smooth as ever. "Jesus Christ." She looks away, her mouth twitching. "You could've just said I'm hotter than her. You didn't need to write a whole TED Talk about my eyes."

"That too. You're way hotter than her."

"Obviously." She pulls her fingers out of Rei and wipes them on the sheet. The flush on her cheeks has nothing to do with exertion. She slaps Rei's ass with a crisp, ringing smack that makes Rei yelp. "She's ready. All warmed up and stretched. Now all that's missing is your dick."

Yujin turns to you, grabs your cock, and squeezes the bottle directly onto the shaft. The lube is warm, almost hot, and it runs down your length in thick rivulets. She strokes you with both hands, one twisting at the base while the other slides up and over the head, spreading the slickness everywhere, making sure every inch is coated. "You're not small," she says, matter-of-fact, her fist gliding up your lubed shaft. "So go slow or you'll break her."

"I'm right here," Rei says from all fours, looking back over her shoulder. "And I'm not fragile."

"Your ass is about to have a very different opinion on that."

Yujin gives your cock one final stroke, root to tip, and releases it. She wipes her hands on the sheets, already ruined beyond salvation, and scoots to the side, settling into a cross-legged position near the pillows with a clear sightline to the action. Supervising.

You move behind Rei. She's on her hands and knees, her back arched, her ass pushed up and out toward you. The lube is everywhere, glossy and warm, catching the light from the windows. Her hole is slick and relaxed from Yujin's prep work, pink and tight and glistening. You run one hand up the back of her thigh, over the swell of her ass, and she pushes back against your touch, eager.

You grip the base of your cock and press the head against her. The contact alone makes her tense, a reflexive clench that tightens everything, and you hold still. Just the tip against her, not pushing, letting the warmth of the lube and the pressure do the work.

"I'm going to start. Tell me if you need me to stop."

Rei nods. Her fingers are bunched in the sheets, her head hanging between her shoulders. "Go ahead."

You push forward. Gentle. Steady. The head of your cock presses against her ring and meets resistance, firm and tight, her body instinctively clenching against the intrusion. You hold the pressure, not forcing, just a constant forward push, and after a few seconds you feel her start to relax. The muscle yields, slowly, incrementally, and the head slips inside.

Rei sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth. Her back goes rigid and her knuckles go white in the sheets. She's impossibly tight around you, her ass gripping the head of your cock with a pressure that's almost painful, hot and slick from the lube but so constricting it takes genuine effort not to just shove forward.

"Breathe," Yujin says from her perch near the pillows. She's watching with her head tilted, clinical and attentive. "Don't tense up. Push out, not in. Let him in."

Rei exhales slowly. You feel the shift, a conscious relaxation that eases the grip around you just enough to move. You push another inch inside her and Rei's mouth falls open, a long, shaky exhale escaping her.

"How's it feel?" Yujin asks.

"Big," Rei manages. "Really, really big."

"I told you." Yujin looks at you. "Slower."

You give Rei a moment. Your hands rest on her hips, thumbs tracing small circles on her skin, grounding her. When you feel her body soften again, you push deeper. Another inch. The lube does its job, the warming sensation easing the slide, and Rei groans low in her throat. It's a sound of fullness, of being stretched in a way that walks the tightrope between too much and exactly enough.

"That's it," Yujin murmurs. "Keep going. You're doing great, little bird."

Another inch. You're halfway in now, and the tightness is unreal. Nothing like her pussy. This is a different kind of grip entirely, relentless and uniform, squeezing every millimeter of your cock with equal, crushing pressure. The heat is staggering. Rei's thighs are quivering, her breathing short and fast, and every tiny movement you make sends a visible tremor through her body.

"More," Rei whispers. "Keep going." You push deeper. So slow it's almost painful for you, the urge to thrust fighting against every ounce of restraint you have. The lube squelches obscenely as you slide further in, and Rei lets out a broken, stuttering moan that builds in volume the deeper you go. Her ass is swallowing you inch by inch, her body opening for you, and the visual alone, your thick, glistening cock disappearing into her tight little hole, her round ass pressed against your hips, is enough to make your pulse hammer in your ears.

"Almost there," Yujin narrates, leaning to the side to get a better angle. "About two inches left. She's taking it like a champ."

"I can feel every single inch of him," Rei says, and her tone is dazed, almost drunk. "Every ridge. Everything."

You push the last two inches in slowly, steadily, until your hips press flush against her ass. All of you. Every inch buried inside her. Rei's body shudders beneath you and she lets out a sound that's half gasp, half sob, her face dropping to the mattress, her fingers twisted in the sheets so hard the fitted corner pops off.

"There you go," Yujin says. "All of it. How do you feel?"

Rei doesn't answer right away. She's breathing in short, shallow bursts, her body adjusting to the fullness, the stretch, the sheer overwhelming presence of your cock lodged deep in her ass. You hold completely still, giving her time, and you can feel her pulse throbbing around you, fast and heavy.

Then she lifts her head. Turns to look at you over her shoulder and says: "I'm ready, daddy." Her hips push back against you, taking you deeper, and the moan that leaves her mouth is filthy and absolutely nothing like the girl who asked for a Coke two hours ago. "Please fuck your good girl's ass."

You pull back. Feel every inch of her gripping you as you slide out until just the head remains inside, her rim stretched tight around the thickest part of you. Then you push forward again, steady, controlled, and Rei's whole body sinks into the mattress as you fill her. Her fingers claw the sheets and a long, trembling moan pours out of her, muffled against the pillow, a sound that starts in the gut and doesn't stop until there's no air left.

She's perfect on all fours. Back arched deep, ass pushed up and round and full, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and sticking to the sweat on her skin. Every slow thrust makes her body rock forward, her breasts swaying beneath her, her thighs trembling with the effort of holding position. The lube has made everything slick and warm and the friction is sinful, that impossible tightness squeezing you on every stroke, hot and constant and so good your jaw aches from clenching it. "Deeper," Rei breathes. Her hips push back against you, greedy, impatient. "Go deeper. I want all of it."

You give her all of it. Bottom out with a slow grind that makes her toes curl and her spine flex. She lets out a choked, guttural sound and her arms give out, her chest dropping to the mattress, face turned sideways, mouth open. "Fuck, your cock is so good in my ass," she moans, pushing back onto you, taking you deeper even though there's nowhere deeper to go. "It's so thick. I can feel you stretching me open. Every single inch."

Yujin is sitting cross-legged beside the two of you, close enough to touch, her chin propped on her fist. She's watching Rei with an expression that's somewhere between a proud older sister and a director reviewing her best actress's career-defining performance. Her eyes are bright, engaged, drinking in every moan and tremble with obvious relish.

"Look at you, little bird." Yujin reaches over and traces a single finger down Rei's spine, from the nape of her neck to the small of her back, and Rei arches into the touch. "All that 'it's too kinky and filthy' bullshit. Too kinky for her. Can't do anal. Absolutely not." She laughs. "And now you've got a fat cock balls deep in your ass and you're begging for more. You're a natural."

"I am," Rei pants, and there's zero irony in it. "I'm a natural. I love it. I love his cock in my ass."

"Tell him that. Don't tell me. Look at him and tell him how much you love it."

Rei cranes her neck to look back at you over her shoulder. Her lips are swollen, parted and there's a strand of saliva connecting her lower lip to the pillow. She looks absolutely ruined. "I love your cock in my ass, daddy." She pushes back against you again, a slow, rolling grind that takes you deeper. "Please don't stop. Please keep fucking me."

You grip her hips tighter and pick up the pace. Not fast yet, but firmer, more rhythmic, each thrust landing with a slap of skin that punctuates the wet, obscene sounds between you. Rei drops her head and moans into the mattress, long and loud and completely uninhibited, and her hands slide forward on the sheets, reaching for something to hold onto, finding nothing, her fingers just clawing at empty fabric. "Harder," she begs. "I can take it. I promise I can take it."

You give her harder. The pace builds gradually, your hips snapping forward with more force, more speed, and Rei starts making sounds you didn't know she was capable of. Deep, throaty moans that break into whimpers at the peak of each thrust, her body jolting forward with every impact, her ass rippling where your hips collide with it. The lube is doing its job beautifully, everything warm and slick, and the tightness of her ass around your cock is relentless, gripping you from every angle, so snug it's almost unbearable.

"Oh my god," Rei gasps, her fingers twisted in the sheets, pulling them off the corner of the mattress. "Oh my god, oh my god, I can't believe Wonyoung never tried this. She had this the whole time. She had this cock and she never even let you fuck her. She never even let you inside her."

"Wonyoung is a fucking loser," Yujin says, casual and absolute. She shifts closer to Rei, settling onto her knees beside her. "The biggest loser in this whole city. She had a man who could make two girls fall apart in one afternoon and she used him for photo ops."

Yujin brings her hand down on Rei's right ass cheek with a clean, sharp smack that echoes through the bedroom. Rei's whole body clenches, her ass squeezing your cock so hard you have to grit your teeth, and the moan she lets out is wild and broken and grateful.

"Say it," Yujin tells her. She leans close to Rei's ear, her hand resting on the reddening handprint she just left. "Say Wonyoung is a loser. A stupid rich girl playing pretend. Say it, little bird." Another smack, harder than the first. Rei's back arches violently and her hips jerk back onto your cock, taking you deep, her body spasming around you.

"Wonyoung is a loser," Rei moans, her face pressed into the sheets, drool pooling on the cotton. "She's a stupid rich girl who throws people away. She doesn't deserve him. She never deserved him."

Yujin's hand smooths over the red mark on Rei's skin, soothing, possessive. "Good girl. That's my girl." Her fingers trail down between Rei's cheeks, brushing the stretched rim where your cock is splitting her open, feeling the slick junction of the two of you. Rei whimpers at the added touch, pushing back against both of you. "Now say you're hotter than her. Say you're better. Say Wonyoung could never give a blowjob like you gave today. That prissy bitch wouldn't even know where to start."

You thrust harder into Rei, punching deep, and the sound that rips out of her is raw and savage and nothing a polite girl would ever produce.

"I'm hotter than Wonyoung!" Rei practically shouts it into the mattress, her hips bucking back against you. "I'm so much fucking hotter than her. She could never suck a dick like I do. She could never take a cock in her ass like I do. She'd tap out in thirty seconds. She doesn't have the range." Her head lifts, hair falling in sweaty tangles around her face, and her eyes are wild. "And I give better head. Way better. She probably just lies there like a starfish. I bet she's never even made a guy cum with her mouth. I could make him cum three times before she even figured out what to do with her tongue."

Yujin's face lights up with pure, unadulterated glee. She grabs Rei's chin and angles her face upward, looking into those blown-out, frenzied brown eyes. "That's my fucking girl. Don't you dare stop. You hear me?" She slaps Rei's ass again, a stinging crack that makes Rei's whole body seize. "Fuck that cock. I want to see your ass moving. Show daddy what you can do."

Rei plants her palms on the mattress and starts rocking back onto you. Hard. Aggressive. Her hips snap backward, her ass slamming against your pelvis with a force that catches you off guard, impaling herself on your cock with a desperate, single-minded hunger. She's not just taking it anymore. She's fucking herself on you, driving back into every thrust you give, meeting you in the middle, and the combined force of both of you sends shockwaves through her entire body. Her ass bounces against your hips, round and full and glistening with sweat and lube, and the wet, filthy slap of impact fills the room in a constant, accelerating rhythm.

"That's it," Yujin breathes, her eyes locked on where your cock is disappearing into Rei's ass over and over. "That's fucking it. Look at her go. She's a goddamn machine."

"Don't stop, daddy," Rei pants, slamming herself back onto you. "Fuck my ass. Use me. Use my tight little ass. It's yours. Everything is yours." You grab her hips and start meeting her pace with your own, thrusting forward hard every time she pushes back, doubling the impact. The collision of your bodies is brutal, wet, loud and Rei screams into the mattress, a sustained, guttural wail that breaks into stuttered gasps with each thrust. Her ass is clenching around you in frantic, involuntary pulses, so tight you can barely pull out before slamming back in.

"Harder," Yujin commands, and she's talking to both of you. Her hand comes down on Rei's ass again, a rapid series of slaps, one two three, each one drawing a sharp cry from Rei. "I want her stupid. I want her drooling. Fuck her brains out."

You grab a fistful of Rei's hair and pull her head up off the mattress, and what you see confirms that Yujin's already gotten her wish. Rei's face is a wreck. Her mascara has smeared into dark streaks beneath her eyes. Saliva trails from her lower lip to the pillow in a thin, glistening string. Her jaw is hanging open, slack, her tongue half out, her eyes rolling and unfocused. She's trying to say something but the only thing coming out is garbled, fragmented nonsense punctuated by moans that sound barely human.

"More," she manages, and even that single syllable comes out slurred and broken. "More more more more more."

"She's gone," Yujin says, and there's a kind of awe in her expression. "Her brain is completely fried. Look at her. She's drooling on your thousand-dollar pillowcase." She cups Rei's face in both hands, tilting it toward her, examining the damage with a grin that's equal parts cruel and affectionate. "Hey. Rei. What's your name? What year is it? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Rei blinks at her, unfocused. A string of drool stretches from her lip. "Fuck me," she whispers. "Just keep fucking me."

"That's not an answer to any of my questions, but I respect the commitment."

You increase the pressure. Each thrust is deep and hard and unrelenting, your cock driving into her ass with a force that pushes her entire body forward on the mattress, her knees sliding on the sweat-damp sheets. You pull her hips back onto you every time she slides away, keeping her pinned, keeping her full, and Rei has stopped trying to form coherent thoughts entirely. She's just noise now, raw and animal, her body shaking and clenching and trembling beneath you. You can feel it building in her. The way her muscles are tightening, the way her thighs are quaking uncontrollably, the way her ass is gripping you in rhythmic, desperate spasms that are getting shorter and faster and more intense. She's close. Her whole body is a coiled spring about to snap, every nerve ending firing, every muscle tensed to the breaking point.

Her fingers are white-knuckled in the sheets, her toes curled, her back locked in a rigid arch that presses her ass up against you as hard as her body can manage. The moans have gone high and thin and continuous, a keening sound that wavers with each thrust, building and building toward something massive. Yujin sees it too. She's leaning close, one hand still on Rei's face, the other resting on the small of Rei's back, feeling the tremors running through her. Her own breathing has quickened, her nipples hard, her thighs pressed together. She strokes Rei's hair, almost tender, and watches her unravel with hungry, fascinated eyes.

"She's about to blow," Yujin murmurs, looking up at you over Rei's quaking body. "Whatever you're doing, don't you dare stop."

Your hips keep their rhythm, steady and deep, your cock driving into Rei's ass with a force that shakes her entire body. Your balls swing forward with every thrust, slapping against her soaked pussy. Rei's face is buried in the mattress, her fingers twisted in the ruined sheets, her entire body trembling with a vibration that's getting worse, tighter, closer.

"I'm gonna cum," Rei chokes out, and her back arches so deep her stomach nearly touches the bed. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum like this. From my ass. I'm gonna cum from your cock in my ass, daddy."

"Cum for daddy." You grip her hips and drive deep, holding there, grinding against that spot deep inside her that makes her whole body clench and spasm. "Let go. Give it to me."

Yujin leans in close to Rei's face, her hand on the back of Rei's neck, fingers threaded through damp, tangled hair. "He said cum, little bird. You heard him. You're his good girl. You deserve this." She strokes Rei's cheek with her thumb, almost maternal, while her other hand reaches under Rei and finds her clit, swollen and slick, and presses down. "Cum for your daddy. He earned it. You earned it."

You pull back and slam forward, burying yourself to the hilt, and Rei's scream is instant and raw. You don't stop. You keep that depth, that angle, fucking into her with short, punishing strokes that never let the pressure drop, your balls slapping against her drenched pussy with every impact. Rei's thighs are shaking so violently her knees are sliding apart on the sheets, and Yujin's fingers on her clit are relentless, rubbing in tight, fast circles that make Rei's whole body jolt and twitch.

"I can't, I can't, I can't," Rei babbles, but her hips are pushing back against you harder than ever, her body chasing what her mouth is trying to deny. "It's too much, it's too much, I'm gonna—"

The orgasm tears through her hard. You feel it before you hear it, her ass clamping down on your cock with a crushing, rhythmic pressure that squeezes you in violent waves. Then the sound hits, a scream that starts in her chest and rips its way out of her throat, high and sharp and sustained, her entire body locking up beneath you.

Her back goes rigid, her toes curl so hard her feet cramp. She convulses against you, her hips bucking in frantic, involuntary jerks, and you feel a rush of wetness flood against your balls as her pussy clenches in sympathy, her whole body detonating at once.

"Yeah, cum," Yujin breathes, her fingers still working Rei's clit through the orgasm, extending it, dragging it out. "Cum like the little slut you are. That's it. All of it. Every fucking drop."

Rei's scream breaks into a series of sobbing, gasping moans, each one weaker than the last, her body shuddering through wave after wave of contractions that you can feel rippling along every inch of your cock. Her arms collapse and she goes flat against the mattress, twitching, her fingers opening and closing on nothing.

You slow down. Pull back, inch by inch, letting her feel every ridge of you as you slide out. Her swollen rim clings to you, stretched and pink and glistening, and when the head finally slips free, Rei's body sags into the mattress with a full-body shudder that runs from her shoulders to her toes.

Rei rolls over onto her back, and the sight of her is extraordinary. Her face is flushed scarlet, her makeup destroyed, mascara streaked in dark smears beneath both eyes. There's drool on her chin, trailing down her neck, and her lips are swollen and parted and curved into the stupidest, most blissed-out smile you have ever seen on a human being.

"This is the best day of my life," she mumbles. "Nothing will ever top this. I peaked. It's all downhill from here."

Yujin leans over her friend's wrecked face and licks a stripe up her chin, collecting the drool on her tongue and swallowing it without a shred of hesitation. Then she cups Rei's face in both hands and peppers her with quick, firm kisses, lips pressing against her cheeks, her forehead, the bridge of her nose, the corner of her mouth.

"You were incredible, babe,” Yujin says between pecks, and there's no sarcasm in it. None. Just genuine, unfiltered pride. "That was beautiful, Rei. You took it so well. You're amazing." Another kiss, on the lips this time, lingering. "My little bird."

Rei's stupid grin gets even stupider. "Thank you, Yujin… Thank you, daddy."

You lean down and brush a strand of sweat-damp hair off her forehead. "Don't thank me. That was all you. You were amazing."

Rei hums contentedly, her eyes drifting shut for a moment, basking. Yujin's gaze drops to your cock. Still hard. Still slick and flushed and thick, jutting up from your hips with an insistence that borders on unreasonable. She stares at it. "You still haven't cum."

"Nope."

"How is that physically possible? You just fucked her ass for..." She trails off, trying to calculate the timeline, and gives up. "A long time. You fucked both of us. Multiple orgasms. Squirting. Anal. And you're still hard."

"Girls cum first. That's always been my rule. I like making sure they're taken care of before I worry about myself."

Yujin's lips part slightly. "That's... actually really hot. You keep surprising me. I came here today expecting some spoiled rich kid who couldn't find the clit with a map and a flashlight. You're nothing like what I expected."

"Good surprises?" You ask.

"Really good surprises. Now wait here, both of you. Don't move."

Yujin climbs off the bed and walks out of the bedroom. You watch her lean figure disappear around the corner with her stride purposeful and quick.

Rei lifts her head. "Where's she going?"

No answer. Just the sound of the briefcase clicking open in the living room. Rei lets her head fall back against the mattress and turns to look at you. That loopy grin is still plastered across her ruined face. "I'm excited for the date," she says softly. "I already know what I'm going to wear. I have this dress that I bought months ago and never had a reason to put on."

"Yeah?"

"It's dark green. It makes my eyes look good." She rolls onto her side, facing you, tucking her hands under her cheek. "Yujin's going to pretend she doesn't care. She's probably going to complain the whole time about how we're being reckless and how it's a terrible idea. But she's excited too."

"You think so?"

"I know so. The way she looks at you." Rei pauses, searching for the right way to say it. "She found somebody who can actually keep up with her. Someone she can't bulldoze. She's been running over every guy she's ever been with, and she's bored of it. You pushed back. You didn't fold." She smiles. "She'll never tell you this, by the way. If you mention I said any of it, I'll deny everything."

Footsteps in the hallway. Yujin rounds the corner and walks back into the bedroom, and between her legs, strapped snug against her hips with black leather harnesses, is a silicone cock. It's not comically large but it's not modest either, a smooth, dark-colored shaft that bobs slightly with each confident step she takes.

Rei pushes herself up on her elbows. Her eyes go wide. "Oh. Holy shit."

Yujin stands at the foot of the bed, hands on her hips, looking like a general surveying a battlefield. "Time for the fatality." She slaps the strap-on once, letting it bounce. "Today is a day you are never going to forget, little bird."

"It's already extremely memorable, Yujin. I've already had two orgasms."

"This is just to make absolutely sure." Yujin climbs onto the bed, the strap-on jutting forward, and kneels behind where Rei is lying. "You need to cum with two dicks in your holes. Full completion. Hundred percent achievement unlocked."

Rei sits up, her expression oscillating between terror and excitement with a healthy dose of horny delirium mixed in. "You're going to kill me."

"You're going to die happy. And when it's all over, you can have an ice-cold Coke. Straight from the fridge. That's your reward."

Rei looks at Yujin. Then at you. Then at the strap-on. Then at your cock. She chews her lower lip, and something sparks behind those big brown eyes, something calculating and mischievous that looks remarkably like a trait she picked up from Yujin. "Fine," she says. "I'll do it."

Yujin nods, satisfied. "Good girl."

"But." Rei holds up one finger. "Only if we spend the night here."

"You've lost your mind," Yujin says flatly.

"We stay here tonight. Both of us. We leave tomorrow morning." Rei crosses her arms over her bare chest, and despite the fact that she's naked and covered in sweat and her makeup looks like a Rorschach test, she projects a surprising amount of authority. "Those are my terms."

"That's insane. We need to go back. We have schedules. We have obligations. Wonyoung's expecting a debrief."

"Wonyoung can wait until tomorrow. The debrief isn't going anywhere."

"I can make dinner for everyone," you offer. "I'm a good cook."

Yujin's head swivels toward you. "Of course you're loving this idea."

"I make a really good pasta. From scratch."

"Nobody asked about your fucking pasta!" Yujin exclaims.

Rei tilts her head at Yujin. "You want to stay. I can see it on your face."

"You can't see anything on my face."

"Your left eye twitches when you want to say yes but your pride won't let you. It's twitching right now."

Yujin slaps a hand over her left eye. Holds it there for a second. Drops it. Takes a breath that contains the weight of every professional boundary she's crossed today, which is all of them.

"Okay! Fuck it!" She throws both hands up. "The plan's already gone to hell. Everything's gone completely off the rails. We've violated about thirty company policies. Who cares anymore." She points at Rei. "Fine. We sleep here tonight. But I am going to make you regret this idea later. That's a promise." Rei beams. "Wipe that grin off your face and get on top of him."

Rei climbs over you and settles on your hips, straddling you. She looks back over her shoulder at Yujin, who's kneeling behind her, adjusting the straps on the harness. That victorious, shit-eating smile is still spread across Rei's face like she just won the lottery and the Nobel Prize on the same day.

Yujin meets her eyes and smiles back. It's not a warm smile. "I'm going to fuck that grin right off your face tonight, little bird. Enjoy it while it lasts."

You reach down and take your cock in hand, lining the head up with Rei's pussy. She's still soaked, swollen and sensitive, and when the tip presses against her entrance she shudders visibly, her thighs clenching around your hips. Behind her, Yujin squeezes a fresh line of lube along the strap-on and presses it against Rei's ass, the tip nudging her already stretched, tender hole.

"Ready?" Yujin asks, one hand on Rei's hip, the other guiding the silicone cock. Rei nods. Her hands are flat on your chest, her fingers spread, steadying herself. She takes a breath.

You push up. Yujin pushes forward. Simultaneously. Rei's mouth falls open but nothing comes out. Her eyes roll back, the brown disappearing behind her lids, and her entire body goes taut, every muscle locking as both holes are filled at once. Your cock sinks into her pussy, hot and tight and clenching, and you can feel the strap-on through the thin wall separating her holes, the hard ridge of silicone pressing against your shaft through her body. The fullness must be staggering. Rei's fingers curl against your chest, her nails biting into your skin, and a thin, reedy whine escapes her throat.

Yujin pushes deeper, slow and steady, one hand on the small of Rei's back. "Breathe, little bird. Open up for us."

You sink in further. So does Yujin. Inch by inch, together, filling Rei from both sides until your hips are flush against her ass and Yujin's thighs are pressed against the back of hers. Both of you completely inside her. The tightness is absurd, her pussy squeezed even tighter by the presence of the strap-on in her ass, gripping your cock with a pressure that makes your stomach clench.

Rei is frozen above you. Trembling. Her eyes are still rolled back and her mouth is open in a silent oval. She's not breathing. You put a hand on her cheek and she blinks, focuses, sucks in a ragged gasp of air like she just surfaced from underwater. "There you go," you murmur. "Breathe. We've got you."

Yujin leans forward, pressing her chest against Rei's back, and wraps an arm around her waist. "You're doing so well. Just relax. We'll go slow."

The three of you hold there, connected, waiting. Rei's breathing gradually steadies. The trembling doesn't stop but it changes, shifting from shock to anticipation. Her pussy clenches around you in slow pulses, testing, adjusting, getting used to the impossible fullness of being stuffed in both holes at once.

"Okay." Her hips shift, just barely, a tiny experimental rock that makes all three of you feel it. "You can start. Just... go slow." She exhales shakily. "I really hope I survive this."

You start to move first. A slow, shallow thrust upward into Rei's pussy, feeling the tight, slick grip of her around your cock, made even tighter by the strap-on filling her from behind. A second later, Yujin follows, pulling her hips back and pushing the silicone cock forward into Rei's ass with a careful, exploratory rhythm that's clearly out of practice.

"It's been a minute since I've done this," Yujin admits, adjusting her grip on Rei's hips, finding her angle. "I'm relearning the choreography. Bear with me."

Rei is between you, suspended, her chest against yours, her face buried in the crook of your neck. Every movement from either direction makes her entire body shudder. Her fingers are digging into your shoulders so hard you're going to have bruises tomorrow, and the sounds coming out of her are small and constant, tiny whimpers that pulse with every thrust.

"It's really intense," Rei manages, her lips moving against your collarbone. "Both of you at the same time. I can feel everything. Every inch of both of you. It's so much."

"Having second thoughts?" you ask, running a hand down her spine.

"No. Just... recalibrating." She shivers as Yujin pushes deeper. "It looks so much easier in porn. Those girls are just bouncing around like it's nothing. They lied to me."

"Welcome to the harsh reality of having two cocks in your holes," Yujin says, settling into a slow, steady rhythm. "Porn is propaganda, little bird. This is the real thing."

You and Yujin find each other's rhythm. It takes a few strokes, a couple of adjustments, a silent negotiation between your bodies that happens through Rei, but after a minute you're moving in sync. When you thrust up, Yujin pulls back. When you pull out, she pushes in. Rei is never empty, always full of one of you, and the alternating pressure is making her lose her grip on reality one thrust at a time.

You cup the back of her head and tilt her face toward yours. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused, her lips wet and parted. You kiss her. Your tongue slides against hers and she moans into your mouth, the vibration traveling through your chest. She kisses you back with a sloppy, desperate hunger, her teeth catching your lower lip, her tongue chasing yours, and when you pull away she tries to follow, whining softly when the distance opens between you.

"You're doing so well," you tell her, brushing your thumb across her cheekbone. "You feel incredible. Both holes squeezing me. I've never felt anything like this."

Rei's cheeks flush even deeper, which shouldn't be possible given how red she already is. "Really?"

"Really. You're unbelievable."

Behind Rei, Yujin leans to the side, admiring the view. She reaches down with both hands and spreads Rei's cheeks apart, watching the strap-on slide in and out of her stretched, lubed hole. The sight makes her bite her lower lip and push in harder on the next stroke.

"The little bird was truly born to take it in the ass," Yujin says with the conviction of someone stating scientific fact. "Look at this. It's art. Someone should put this in a museum."

Rei whimpers into your chest. "That's not a museum-appropriate activity."

"Everything is museum-appropriate if the curator is brave enough." Yujin gives Rei's spread ass a long, appreciative look, then lifts her gaze to yours. That mischievous spark is back in her eyes, brighter than before. "So. What do you think of your first threesome?"

You thrust up into Rei and feel her clench around you. "I'm having a great time. Really enjoying the company."

Yujin snorts. She actually giggles, a sound you didn't think she was capable of producing. "I genuinely can't tell if you're describing a threesome or a picnic in the park."

“I love picnics,” Rei mumbles into your shoulder.

Yujin lets out an incredulous breath. “Nobody asked you anything, Rei."

“Sorry,” Rei says quickly, shifting slightly, almost sheepish. “I just… really like picnics. With sandwiches.”

Yujin actually pauses, then exhales a short, disbelieving laugh. “I’m literally inside your ass right now,” she says flatly, “and you’re talking about sandwiches. My fake dick almost went limp.”

Rei winces faintly at that, her fingers tightening where they rest. “Sorry,” she murmurs again. “didn’t mean to kill the vibe.”

Yujin's face softens. She runs her palm up Rei's back, gentle, grounding. "I'm just teasing, babe." Then her hand comes down on Rei's ass with a sharp crack that makes Rei's whole body jolt. "Now moan for mommy, okay?"

Rei obeys. A long, unfiltered moan that starts in her belly and spills out hot and broken against your skin. Her pussy clenches hard around your cock, and you feel the pressure of the strap-on through the thin wall between her holes, the silicone pressing against your shaft from the other side. "Good girl," Yujin purrs. "Louder."

You pick up the pace from below. Your hips drive up with more force, more speed, and Yujin matches you, the two of you falling into a faster rhythm that has Rei gasping and writhing between your bodies.

She's pinned. There's nowhere to go, nothing to do but take it, and the realization seems to hit her all at once because her body goes slack against your chest and she just surrenders. Completely. Every muscle releases and she becomes soft and pliant and open, her hips rocking between you in small, involuntary movements, her moans coming on every exhale.

"There she goes," Yujin murmurs. "She stopped fighting it. Now she's just taking it."

"That's it, Rei." You grab her ass with both hands, spreading her, giving Yujin a better angle. "Just feel it. Let us take care of you."

"Both of you," Rei pants, and her hips grind down onto your cock with a needy, circular motion. "Both of you feel so good. I'm so full. I've never been this full in my life."

You thrust harder. Yujin matches you. The rhythm is faster now, the bed rocking beneath the three of you, the headboard tapping the wall in a steady beat. Rei is sandwiched between your bodies, skin against skin, sweat mingling, and every thrust from either direction makes her cry out. The sounds she's producing are raw and uncontrolled, a continuous stream of moans and gasps and fragments of words that don't connect into sentences.

"Come on, little bird," Yujin says, snapping her hips forward, driving the strap-on deep. "Take it. Take both of us. You wanted this. You asked for this."

"I love it." Rei's nails score lines down your chest. "I love both of you inside me. Please don't stop. Daddy, please don't stop. Mommy, please."

You grab Rei's face in one hand and make her look at you. Her eyes are barely tracking, rolling and glassy, her pupils blown so wide the brown is nearly gone. There's drool on her chin again, her mascara is a lost cause and she is the most beautiful wreck you've ever seen in your life.

"Who makes you feel this good?" you ask, thrusting up hard enough to make her whole body bounce.

"You do, daddy." She can barely get the words out between moans. "You and Yujin. Nobody else. Nobody has ever made me feel like this."

"That's right,” Yujin says. “And nobody else is going to."

Yujin increases her pace. She's gripping Rei's hips hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises, her own breathing getting heavier, her thighs slapping against Rei's ass with every forward snap. She leans over Rei's back, pressing close, her mouth near Rei's ear. "You're taking it so well, babe. Both holes stuffed full and you're still begging for more. You're our perfect little slut."

"I am," Rei sobs. "I'm your slut. Both of yours."

The three of you are moving together now, a single organism of tangled limbs and sweat and noise. You and Yujin have locked into a brutal, alternating rhythm, never letting Rei rest, never giving her a moment without one of you buried deep inside her. Your cock drives up into her pussy, thick and hard and relentless, while the strap-on fills her ass from behind, and Rei is caught in between, overwhelmed, overloaded, every nerve in her body firing at maximum capacity.

You feel her start to tighten. Not just her pussy, her whole body. Every muscle drawing taut, her thighs clamping against your sides, her fingers digging into your shoulders, her teeth sinking into the meat of your chest hard enough to sting. The moans are getting higher, tighter, more desperate.

"She's close," you tell Yujin.

"I know. I can feel her shaking." Yujin pounds harder, the strap-on driving deep. "Come on, Rei. Finish. Give us everything."

"I'm gonna cum." Rei's entire body is vibrating against yours, a fine, uncontrollable tremor that runs through her like an electrical current. "I can't hold it. Both of you are too much. It's too good. I'm gonna cum with both of you inside me."

"Then cum, babe," you tell her, grabbing her hips and driving up into her so hard she bounces off your pelvis. "Cum for us."

Yujin slams forward at the same time you do, and for one brutal, perfect second, Rei is completely filled from both sides at once. Maximum depth. Both holes stretched and stuffed and speared on cock.

Rei detonates. The orgasm is violent. Her body seizes above you, rigid as steel, and the scream that comes out of her is inhuman, a raw, tearing sound that doesn't stop, that just keeps pouring out of her throat as her body convulses. Her pussy crushes your cock in rhythmic, crushing contractions, so tight it's almost painful, and you can feel the strap-on jerking on the other side of that thin wall as her ass clenches just as hard.

She's shaking so violently that Yujin has to grab her waist to keep her from bucking off both of you, and wet heat floods around your cock as she cums so hard her body can't contain it, her juices spilling out around your shaft and running down your balls.

"Holy fuck," Yujin breathes, holding Rei steady, still buried inside her. "Holy fuck, she's still going."

Rei's orgasm keeps rolling, wave after wave, her body clenching and releasing in violent spasms that you feel through every inch of your cock. Tears are streaming down her face, mixing with the drool and the smeared mascara, and she's making sounds that have stopped resembling anything human, just raw, primal noise, her body expressing what her brain no longer can.

You and Yujin slow down together. Easing off. Letting the aftershocks ripple through her without adding to the overload. Yujin pulls out first, slow and careful, and Rei whimpers at the withdrawal, her body twitching. Then you ease your hips down, letting her feel you soften your rhythm to a gentle rocking, just enough contact to keep her grounded while the tremors gradually subside.

Rei collapses onto your chest. Completely boneless. Dead weight. She's breathing in ragged, hitching gasps, her whole body still twitching with aftershocks, and she doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Just lies there, draped across you, her face pressed against your neck, her heartbeat hammering so hard you can feel it against your own ribs.

Yujin unstraps the harness and tosses it off the bed. It lands somewhere on the floor with a thud. She lies down beside you both, propping herself on one elbow, and looks at Rei with something that transcends amusement and enters the territory of reverence.

"Rei. You alive?"

A long silence. Then, muffled against your neck: "I'm going to need a wheelchair from now on." Yujin laughs. "My legs don't work," Rei continues, her face still hidden. "My brain doesn't work. Nothing works. I'm broken. Both of you broke me."

"You're welcome,” Yujin says proudly.

Rei slowly, painfully, rolls off your chest and lands on her back beside you. She lies there spread-eagled on the destroyed bed, staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, body glistening. Every few seconds a residual shudder passes through her and she twitches, her thighs squeezing together involuntarily.

"Tell my Switch 2 I loved it a lot," she mumbles. "We had some amazing moments. Sadly, I won’t be finishing Pokopia..."

Yujin is grinning at Rei when you feel a hand on your jaw. She turns your face toward hers and kisses you. It's unexpected, and that's what makes it hit different. Her lips are soft against yours, warm and unhurried, and she kisses you like she's taking something for herself rather than proving a point. When she pulls back, her eyes are clear and steady. "Good job."

"You did pretty well yourself. Tag team of the century."

She grins, but it fades into something else. She leans close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, her hand resting on your chest. Her breath is warm and her whisper is low enough that Rei can't hear it. "Can you make me cum again?" She traces a small circle on your chest with her fingertip. "I'm kind of obsessed with your cock. It's becoming a problem."

You turn your head and catch her eye. No guarded expression this time, just a lingering heat, a flicker of want, and something raw she isn’t covering up. "Of course I can,” you say.

Yujin grins again, grabs your hand and pulls you off the bed. Your feet hit the hardwood floor and she positions herself in front of you, standing at the edge of the mattress, her back to your chest. The late afternoon light is cutting through the floor-to-ceiling windows and painting gold stripes across her skin, across the lean lines of her shoulders and the sharp curve of her waist.

On the bed, Rei rolls onto her stomach and props her chin on her fists, settling in. Her legs kick up behind her, crossed at the ankles. "Go ahead. I'll just watch and enjoy the show."

Yujin glances back over her shoulder at Rei. "Didn't know you were into voyeurism."

"After today? Voyeurism is all I've got left." Rei shifts and hugs a pillow to her chest. "Everything else has been thoroughly explored. I'm retiring from active duty. Observer status only."

You put both hands on Yujin's waist. She's warm under your palms, her skin damp and smooth, and you can feel her pulse ticking fast beneath the surface. You pull her hips back against you, your cock settling between her thighs, sliding through the slick heat gathered there. She inhales sharply but doesn't move, letting you take the lead. You angle yourself and press the head of your cock against her entrance. She's wet. Embarrassingly wet, from everything she's watched and done and felt over the last however many hours this has been.

You push inside her. Slow. Steady. And Yujin exhales like she's been holding her breath since the last time you were in her, a long, shuddering sigh that drops her shoulders and tips her head forward. "I missed this," she murmurs. "It's been like thirty minutes and I missed this. That's pathetic."

You slide your hands up from her waist. Over the flat plane of her stomach, up her ribs, until your palms cover her breasts. They're full, firm and her nipples are stiff against your palms, and when you squeeze, gentle but possessive, she pushes back against you and takes you another inch deeper.

Your lips find the side of her neck. You kiss the spot just below her ear, then lower, along the tendon, tasting salt and perfume, and she tilts her head to give you more room. You mouth your way down to her shoulder, teeth grazing skin, and feel the goosebumps rise under your lips.

"You have the most incredible body," you tell her, squeezing her breasts again, rolling her nipples between your fingers. You thrust into her, slow and deep, and feel her clench around you. "Every single part of you. Your stomach. Your hips. These legs." You press deeper and she gasps. "You're so fucking hot it's hard to concentrate."

Yujin laughs, breathy and unsteady, her composure fraying at the edges. "You're so obsessed with me. It's borderline clinical."

"It's the truth. Why would I lie about it?" You pull back and push in again, a long stroke that fills her completely, and her laugh cuts off into a moan. "I've been with one woman for over a year and she never once made me feel anything close to what I feel when I'm inside you."

"Stop being smooth while you're fucking me. It's not fair. I can't think of comebacks."

"Then don't think." You start thrusting deeper. Not faster, just deeper, each stroke reaching further, grinding at the peak before pulling back. Yujin's head falls back against your shoulder, her hair spilling over your skin, and she stares at the ceiling with her lips parted and her eyes half-shut.

From this angle you can see everything. The way her throat works when she swallows a moan. The way her stomach clenches with every thrust. The way her hands hang at her sides because she doesn't know what to do with them, because she's given up trying to control the situation and she's just letting you have her.

"Damn… you’re fucking me so good," she says, voice low, stripped of anything but pure feeling. "You're hitting something in there that I didn't even know existed. How are you doing that?"

"Trade secret."

"Asshole."

"You two look really good together," Rei says, and her tone has a roughness to it that wasn't there a minute ago. "Like, unreasonably good. The height difference. The way she leans into you. The way your hands look on her body." She shifts again. "Maybe I'm more into this voyeurism thing than I thought."

Yujin moans, long and open, as you thrust particularly deep. "Enjoying the view, little bird?"

"Very much."

You keep fucking Yujin. Slow, measured strokes from behind, your hands exploring her body with a thoroughness that's making her squirm. Every time you squeeze her hip, she clenches around you. Every time you kiss her neck, she tilts into it. Every time you murmur something against her skin, her breathing gets shorter.

There's no pretense anymore. No competition, no performance, no score-keeping. She's just here, with you, feeling everything, and for the first time today she's letting herself have it without a fight.

"Wrap your arm around me," she says, quiet, tentative even. You slide your arm around her waist and pull her flush against your chest, and she makes a small, satisfied sound and reaches back to grip the back of your neck, holding you close. The position is intimate in a way that nothing else today has been. Your chest against her back, your arm around her, your cock buried deep inside her, the two of you moving together in the golden afternoon light.

After several minutes, the mattress creaks. Rei has gotten tired of watching. She pushes herself up, swings her legs off the bed, and stands in front of Yujin on unsteady legs. She's still flushed, still wrecked, still marked with the aftermath of everything that's happened to her body today, but there's a renewed energy in her eyes.

She steps close and cups Yujin's face in both hands. Yujin looks at her, surprised, and Rei kisses her, their lips meeting softly, tongues touching, Rei's thumbs stroking Yujin's cheekbones. When they part, Yujin's eyes are glassy. "Looks like the little bird got her strength back."

Rei smiles. "Watching you get fucked is like spinach. Instant recovery."

"Don’t ever let those words come out of your mouth around me again."

"Stop being so grumpy,” Rey says, then her mouth travels down. She kisses Yujin's jaw, her throat, the hollow of her collarbone. Her lips close around Yujin's left nipple and she sucks softly, her tongue flicking across the stiff peak. Yujin hisses through her teeth and her hand comes up to cradle the back of Rei's head, fingers threading through dark hair. You keep fucking Yujin from behind, your pace steady, and between the two of you she's starting to shake.

Rei kisses lower. Down Yujin's sternum, across her stomach, her lips tracing the faint lines of definition there. She drops to her knees between Yujin's thighs, looking up at both of you, and the angle gives her a perfect view of your cock sliding in and out of Yujin's pussy. "Let me help," Rei says, licking her lips.

You lift Yujin's left leg and place it on the edge of the mattress, opening her up. The new angle drives you deeper and Yujin gasps, grabbing your arm for balance. Her pussy is spread wide now, everything exposed, and Rei leans in and presses her tongue flat against Yujin's clit.

"Fuck—" Yujin breathes. "Oh, fuck."

Rei licks her in slow, broad strokes, her tongue running from where your cock enters Yujin all the way up to her clit and back down again. She's licking both of you, tasting Yujin's wetness and the slick coating your shaft, her tongue sliding along the underside of your cock every time you pull back. The sensation is staggering, Rei's hot, wet tongue dragging along your cock while Yujin's pussy grips you from every angle, and you have to lock your jaw to keep your composure.

"This is too fucking good," Yujin gasps, her head falling back against your shoulder again. "Both of you. Her tongue and your cock. It's too much. I can't handle this."

"You can handle it," you tell her, thrusting harder. "You're handling it right now."

"I'm barely surviving."

Rei focuses her attention on Yujin's clit, sucking it between her lips, flicking it with the tip of her tongue in quick, precise strokes. Her hands grip Yujin's thighs, holding her open, and every few seconds she dips down to drag her tongue along the stretched rim of Yujin's pussy where your cock is splitting her apart. The wet sounds are filthy and constant, Rei's mouth and your cock working together in a symphony of slick, obscene noise.

You increase your pace. Harder, faster, your hips driving into Yujin with a force that makes her whole body rock forward with each thrust. Rei adjusts, staying close, her tongue never leaving Yujin's clit. You grab Yujin's hip with one hand and her breast with the other, pulling her back onto your cock as you slam forward.

"I'm not going to last," Yujin pants. Her fingers are tangled in Rei's hair, pulling her closer, grinding her pussy against Rei's face. "Both of you at once is cheating. This is fucking cheating."

"Complain about it later," Rei says against her clit, the words buzzing against sensitive flesh, and Yujin's legs buckle for a second.

"Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god." Yujin's hand shoots back and grabs the back of your neck, nails biting into your skin. Her body is tensing up, that familiar full-body clench, every muscle drawing tight. "I'm close. I'm really close. Don't stop. Neither of you stop. Please, daddy, don't stop—"

You pound into her, relentless, your cock driving deep on every stroke. Rei sucks her clit hard, her cheeks hollowing, her eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Yujin is caught between the two of you, shaking, gasping, her body coiling tighter and tighter. "Cum for us," you growl against her ear. "Let go, babe."

Yujin cums. Her whole body seizes, her spine arching away from your chest, her mouth opening in a silent scream that hangs in the air for one eternal second before the sound catches up. A raw, shattered moan rips out of her, and then the flood. She squirts hard, a forceful spray that catches Rei directly in the face.

Rei flinches back, eyes flying open, sputtering. Her face is drenched. Her hair is drenched. She's blinking rapidly, mouth open in shock, Yujin's release dripping off her chin and running down her neck.

Yujin sees Rei's face through the haze of her orgasm and starts laughing. A breathless, broken laugh that mixes with her moans, her body still convulsing around your cock. "Oh my god. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, little bird. But your face right now..."

Another jet pulses out of her, arcing through the air and hitting Rei square in the chest, splashing across her breasts and running down her stomach. Rei looks down at herself, then up at Yujin, her expression caught between outrage and disbelief. "Yujin!"

"I can't control it!" Yujin is laughing so hard she can barely stand, her legs wobbling, her body still twitching through the tail end of her orgasm. "It just happens!"

You ease your pace, slowing to a gentle rocking, letting her ride the last waves. When you finally pull out, Yujin shudders one last time and exhales a breath that seems to empty her completely. She leans against you for a moment, catching her balance, then looks at Rei, who is kneeling on the floor absolutely soaked from the chest up.

Yujin's mouth twitches. "Okay. Since little bird got a surprise facial..." She pushes herself off you and lowers to her knees beside Rei, both of them on the floor in front of you. Yujin wipes a streak of wetness off Rei's cheek with her thumb and grins. "Let's finish the job properly."

Yujin's fingers wrap around the base of your cock. Rei's hand joins hers, overlapping, both of them stroking you in tandem. Their faces are inches from the head, looking up at you, and the visual alone almost does you in. "Look at these balls," Yujin says, her free hand cupping them, weighing them, rolling them in her palm. "So fucking full. You've been holding it in this whole time while you made both of us cum how many times? You're gonna explode. There's gonna be so much."

Rei runs her tongue along the underside of your shaft while Yujin strokes, a long, slow lick from base to tip that makes your thighs tense. "He deserves it. He's been so patient."

"Patient isn't the word. This man has the self-control of a monk." Yujin leans forward and takes the head into her mouth, sucking hard, her cheeks hollowing, tasting herself on you. She pulls off with a wet sound. "I can still taste my pussy on your dick. That's so hot."

Rei takes over, swallowing you deep, her throat opening around your shaft with that natural ease that made Yujin's jaw drop earlier. She holds there, her nose pressed against your pelvis, then pulls back slowly, a thick string of saliva connecting her lip to your cock. "You taste like both of us now."

They alternate. Rei goes deep while Yujin works the shaft. Then Yujin takes you in her mouth, sloppy and aggressive, while Rei dips lower and sucks your balls, taking one into her mouth, rolling it gently with her tongue. The combined sensation of two mouths, two tongues, four hands, all of it focused on your cock with a coordinated intensity that borders on worship, is pushing you toward the edge faster than anything has all afternoon.

"You two are so fucking good together," you manage, your hand finding the back of Yujin's head, your other hand tangled in Rei's hair. "The best mouths I've ever had. Nothing even comes close."

Yujin pulls off long enough to grin up at you. "Tell us more."

"Fishing for compliments with my dick in your mouth. Classy."

"Always." She runs her tongue in a circle around the head. "Now tell us how bad you want to cum."

"Pretty fucking bad."

Rei releases your balls and licks her way back up, joining Yujin at the tip. Both their tongues meet at the head, lapping at the sensitive ridge, their lips brushing against each other and against you in a wet, messy tangle that makes your abs clench hard enough to ache.

"Then cum for us, daddy," Rei says, looking up at you with those wide brown eyes that have no right to look that innocent given what her mouth is doing. "Please. We want it."

"We need it," Yujin adds, stroking you faster. "Cum on our faces. Give us what Wonyoung would never let you have." She spits on your cock and twists her fist on the upstroke, her grip tightening. "That prissy bitch would never let you cum on her perfect little princess face. Too messy. Too dirty. Too beneath her."

"But we're not her," Rei breathes, her tongue flicking across your slit. "We actually want it. We're begging for it."

"We're so much better than her." Yujin's pace increases, her fist pumping your slick cock fast and relentless. "We let you fuck our pussies raw. We let you fuck Rei's tight little ass. We let you do anything you want with us. Wonyoung could never."

"She could never," Rei echoes, sucking the tip between her lips briefly. "She doesn't deserve this cock. We do."

"So give it to us." Yujin's hand is a blur now, her wrist snapping on every stroke, your cock drooling precum that she smears across the head with her thumb. "Cum all over us. Paint our faces. We want to wear it."

Your grip tightens in both their hair. Your thighs are shaking. Your balls are drawn up tight and the pressure is building, building, a coiling heat in your lower stomach that's about to snap. Both of them are focused on the tip now, their tongues overlapping, licking, their lips kissing the head of your cock from either side.

"Cum, daddy," Rei whispers.

"Fucking cum," Yujin demands.

You break. The first rope hits Yujin across the bridge of her nose and her right cheek, thick and white and hot. She doesn't flinch. Doesn't close her eyes. Just keeps stroking, her fist pumping your cock through the orgasm, milking every drop. "More," she says. "Give us more. Don't stop."

The second shot catches Rei across her forehead and her left eye, which she squeezes shut just in time. It drips down her brow and along her cheekbone. The third hits them both, streaking across Yujin's lips and Rei's chin. You're cumming harder than you've ever cum in your life, weeks and months of pent-up frustration and loneliness and faithfulness to a woman who couldn't be bothered to break up with you in person, all of it pouring out of you in thick, pulsing ropes that keep coming and coming.

Yujin's hand doesn't stop. She keeps stroking, fast and tight, pulling every last drop from you while your cock throbs and kicks in her grip. "That's it. Keep cumming. Fuck, there's so much. Look at all of it, Rei."

Rei is a mess. Her face is glazed with it, white streaks across her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, dripping off her chin onto her chest. She opens her good eye and looks up at you with that stupid, blissed-out grin. Your cock pulses one more time, a final weak spurt that lands on Yujin's collarbone, and then you're done. Empty. Completely and thoroughly spent.

Yujin smiles up at you. Her face is covered. It's in her eyelashes, across the bridge of her nose, on her upper lip. She looks like a glazed donut and she couldn't look more satisfied about it. "Amazing… And to think I'm getting paid for this."

Rei scoops a thick line of cum off her cheek with two fingers and slides them into her mouth, sucking them clean. She considers the taste for a moment, like a sommelier evaluating a vintage, and nods approvingly. Yujin runs her tongue across her upper lip, collecting what's gathered there, and swallows.

You sit down on the edge of the mattress. Your legs feel like they've been deboned. You lean back on your hands and let out a breath that comes from somewhere deep in your chest, somewhere that's been clenched tight for months. "That was fucking awesome."

"The best part," Rei says, still kneeling on the floor, still dripping, "is that we're sleeping here tonight. So we can do it again later."

Yujin groans from the floor. "Do we really need him? What if he's a serial killer? We don't know this man."

Rei looks at her flatly. "I just let the serial killer cum on my face, Yujin."

Yujin purses her lips. Opens her mouth. Closes it. "You have a point."

You lean forward and offer both of them a hand up. "How about a bath? I've got a tub big enough for three."

"You made the mess," Yujin says, taking your hand and pulling herself to her feet. "You clean it up." She touches her hair and her fingers come away sticky. "There's cum in my hair. This is a two-hundred-dollar blowout."

"I'll wash it for you."

"Damn right you will."

—

A few hours later, the penthouse feels calmer. Golden daylight has slipped into a cool evening blue, and the city beyond the windows begins to glow.

Yujin is in your kitchen. She's wearing your shirt, a white oxford that hangs to the top of her thighs, the hem just barely covering the curve of her ass, which peeks out whenever she reaches for anything above counter height. Her legs are bare, her hair is damp from the bath and starting to curl at the ends, and she's got your wireless headphones clamped over her ears.

She's singing, her hips swaying as she opens the freezer and pulls out a tub of ice cream. Her bare feet pad across the kitchen tile and she grabs a spoon from the drawer, scooping out a bite and eating it while she sings between mouthfuls.

"Hey, Miss Sun, what can I say?" She twirls the spoon between her fingers, bobbing her head. "I tried to hold you, but the moon got in the way..." She does a little spin, sliding on the tile in her bare feet, and catches herself on the counter. "It won't be long before the morning has you back in my arms—"

The music cuts out. Her phone buzzes on the counter, the screen lighting up. She glances at it and the spoon freezes halfway to her mouth.

Jang Wonyoung

Yujin sets down the ice cream. Pulls off the headphones. Takes a breath. Answers. "Hey, boss."

Wonyoung's tone comes through tinny and sharp, even from across the room. Yujin leans against the counter and examines her nails while she listens.

"Where are you two? You've been off the grid all day. I tried calling Rei three times."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Rei hurt her ankle. Fell down some stairs on the way out of his building." Yujin picks at a cuticle. "That girl doesn't look where she's going. I keep telling her. She just spaces out and trips over everything."

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine. It's just a mild sprain. I took her back to her apartment to keep an eye on her. We'll probably be in tomorrow."

A pause on the other end. "How did it go? Everything run smoothly?"

"Smooth as silk. Textbook operation. Contract signed, obligations fulfilled. All wrapped up."

"Did he cry?"

A flicker of tension pulls at Yujin’s jaw before she smooths it over. “No,” she says, light as ever.

"Seriously?" Wonyoung sounds genuinely annoyed. "He should have cried. I expected at least some tears. I would have cried."

"I think he wanted to. He was definitely holding it back. Didn't want to cry in front of two girls, you know? Fragile masculinity. Big ego, small emotional range. The usual."

"Men..." Wonyoung sighs with the weariness of someone who has never once been inconvenienced by her own behavior. "How was the sex?"

"Everything went according to plan. He was satisfied by the end. No complaints. No resentment. Mission accomplished."

"Perfect. Great work, Yujin. Now we just have to wait about six months." Wonyoung's tone shifts into something brighter, more animated, the sound of someone admiring their own strategy. "The breakup's going to generate tons of attention. Everyone loves a fallen romance. Sympathetic press for me, speculation, mystery. And then in six months, we get back together. Reconciliation arc. The public eats that up. Engagement numbers will be through the roof."

Yujin stares at the far wall. "Sounds like you've got it all figured out."

"I always do. Just keep the documents safe. I want everything on my desk tomorrow."

"Of course. You can count on me, boss."

"I know I can. Goodnight, Yujin."

"Goodnight."

The call ends. The screen goes dark. Yujin stands there for a moment, phone in hand, staring at nothing. Then she puts the headphones back on. The music starts again, Miss Sun picking up where it left off. She grabs the ice cream tub and turns toward the hallway. On her way past the kitchen trash can, she glances down.

Inside, sitting on top of crumpled paper towels, is a small pile of ashes. Gray and black and still faintly warm. The edges of a few charred paper fragments are still visible, corners of thick, expensive legal stock, the kind used for contracts that were meant to be kept in briefcases and filed in offices and presented to bosses who think they run the world.

Yujin takes a bite of ice cream and looks at the ashes for a long, satisfied moment.

“That bitch has no idea what’s coming,” she murmurs around the spoon.

Yujin turns off the kitchen light and pads down the hallway to your bedroom, carrying the ice cream with her, humming softly.

[autumnyacorn]

Excuse me Jupiter???

[jupiterpilgrim]

Pardon Acorn???

[jupiterpilgrim]

King for a Day

An Yujin x Naoi Rei x m!reader

word count: 14K

The elevator hums on its way up. Yujin fixes her blazer for the fourth time in thirty seconds. She glances over at Rei, who’s clutching two leather briefcases like a rookie paralegal at a firm that definitely launders money.

"Okay. One more time," Yujin says, cracking her neck. "We arrive, we explain the situation, we get him to sign the contract, and then we do what we came here to do. Simple. Clean. Professional."

Rei nods emphatically, though her grip on the briefcase handles tightens. "I still can't believe we're actually doing this..."

“This is everyday business for powerful people. Breakups, mergers, emotional takeovers. It’s just corporate restructuring with feelings thrown in. You'll get used to it, little bird." Yujin adjusts Rei's collar with two fingers, smoothing a crease that wasn't really there. "Wonyoung demands results. And you are going to deliver. Give it your best, yeah?"

Rei straightens slightly, a spark lighting up her eyes. "Wonyoung’s going to be proud of me!”

"That’s the attitude!" Yujin pats her on the shoulder.

The elevator dings.

The doors glide open straight into your suite - no hallway, no buffer. That’s the kind of place this is. Forty-two floors up, with a private elevator that answers only to you, and floor-to-ceiling windows framing a city that feels curated for your view. You’re standing in the bedroom doorway, halfway through buttoning your shirt, fingers lingering on the third button, when you hear footsteps on marble in a place where you’re supposed to be alone.

Two girls stride out of your elevator like they own the entire building.

You lift an eyebrow. “…How exactly did you two get in here?”

The taller girl moves in first, posture unshaken, like self-doubt has never been part of her vocabulary. Her shoulders are squared, chin angled with precise control - refined, yet quietly intimidating. “I’m An Yujin,” she says, holding out her hand.

You shake it. Her grip is firm, unwavering

The other one, a few centimeters shorter, shifts the briefcases to one hand and gives a small bow that's almost endearing in how formal it is. "Naoi Rei. Pleasure to meet you."

"It was easy to get in here," Yujin continues, already scanning your suite with the casual appraisal of someone who's been inside a lot of expensive rooms. "We can get into anywhere. Think of us like the Men in Black, but without being men."

"And without wearing black," Rei adds, glancing down at her navy blazer.

"Right. We also don't handle UFO events. Or alien immigration. Or memory wiping. Although," Yujin taps her chin, "that last one could be useful sometimes."

You finish buttoning your shirt and fold your arms. "So you have literally nothing in common with the Men in Black."

Yujin pauses. Thinks. "Yeah. That sounded better in my head.”

"My underwear is black, Yujin. That's already a start."

Yujin points at Rei without looking at her. "See? She's committed to the bit. I respect that."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. There are two strangers in your penthouse, one of whom just volunteered information about her underwear, and it's not even noon yet. "Look. As much as I love pretty girls trespassing on my private property, and I want to stress that this is extremely private property, what the hell are you doing here?"

"We're here on behalf of Jang Wonyoung," Yujin says, your eyebrow rises slightly. Now that she's said it, you actually do recognize Yujin. You've seen her at a few events, always orbiting Wonyoung, always laughing too loud at things that probably weren't that funny. Part of the entourage.

"What's this about, exactly?"

Yujin doesn't answer right away. She walks over to your sofa, a twelve-thousand-dollar Italian leather piece you've sat on maybe three times, and drops herself onto it without a shred of hesitation. She crosses her legs and leans back like she's been living here for months. Rei bows slightly, murmurs a quiet "excuse me," and sits down next to her with considerably more grace, placing both briefcases on the coffee table with the care of someone handling evidence.

"So here's the thing," Yujin begins, folding her hands in her lap. "Your relationship with Wonyoung is coming to an end. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this. Well, actually, I'm not that sorry, because I barely know you. But professionally speaking, I'm sorry."

You stare at her.

"It didn't perform as well as she hoped. There were metrics, projections, social media engagement targets, public perception polling, a whole spreadsheet situation. And the numbers just didn't hit. The relationship underperformed across every key indicator." She shrugs. "In other words, you're a flop, darling."

"Thank you for your kind assessment," you say, the sarcasm obvious in every word. "I bet you love what you do, don’t you?”

"Hey, chill, I'm just the messenger. Think of me as the Hermes of the situation." She wiggles her feet. "My winged sandals are by Prada, though…"

You lean against the wall and try to process this. You knew. Somewhere in the back of your mind, past the optimism and the carefully curated date-night photos and the way she sometimes smiled at you when cameras were around, you knew. The relationship was a strategy from the start, something cooked up between Wonyoung's management team and the political arm of your family. Good optics on both sides. You were useful, and she was beautiful, and for a while that felt like enough.

But you'd been hoping, stupidly maybe, that she'd eventually come around. That the dinners would start feeling real. That the hand-holding would stop being choreographed...

Wonyoung is so goddamn gorgeous she fried your brain.

"She could've at least come and told me herself," you say. "Or called. A text, even. Carrier pigeon. Smoke signal. Anything."

"Wonyoung doesn't have time for that," Yujin says, completely matter-of-fact. "She's a global star. Schedule's packed. And to be blunt with you, she doesn't care enough about the relationship to handle this personally. That's what we're for."

That one stings, but it's not a surprise. You exhale through your teeth. "Fine. I get it. But why both of you? With all due respect, it feels like you’re more here to mess with me than actually handle any legal issue.”

Yujin reaches over and pops open one of the briefcases. Inside, a thick contract sits nestled in foam like it's a piece of jewelry. She slides it toward you across the coffee table. "Part of the original relationship contract included a breakup-sex clause. Section fourteen, subsection C. If one of the involved parties declines to personally fulfill the obligation, a consenting third party may represent them."

You blink. "I do not remember that clause."

"It was in the fine print," Rei says, speaking up with the tone of someone who genuinely finds contract law interesting. "It's always important to read and review every document with a qualified attorney before signing. These things have layers. The legal world is full of traps."

"The little bird is right," Yujin nods sagely. "You really should have had better representation."

You run a hand through your hair and try to assemble the sentence correctly in your head before you say it. "So if I'm understanding this correctly, you two came here to have sex with me. In the name of Wonyoung."

Rei nods. "Yeah, that’s pretty much the idea."

"Sorry, I can't do that. That's unethical. That's professional abuse. You're being exploited. Wonyoung is sending you here to sleep with a stranger because she can't be bothered to handle her own breakup. Do you not see how messed up that is?"

Yujin holds up a finger. "First of all, darling, we read our employment contracts. Every word. Every footnote. Unlike some people in this room." She glances at the breakup contract on the table and back at you. "Second, we're both here willingly. One hundred percent. Nobody's being exploited. This is a task we accepted with full knowledge and enthusiastic consent."

"Then it's fine. You can go home. I'm not going to hold a grudge. I'll survive."

"It's not quite that simple." Yujin uncrosses her legs and leans forward, elbows on her knees. "Our job is to make sure you leave this relationship completely satisfied and without resentment. The goal is to prevent any future public bitterness, accusations, tell-all interviews, leaked texts, the works. Wonyoung's PR team was very specific."

"I promise I won't say a single bad thing about Wonyoung. I never have. I wouldn't."

Rei shakes her head gently. "Unfortunately, a verbal promise doesn't constitute a legal guarantee. You need to fulfill the terms of the contract, or there could be litigation."

"Litigation," you repeat.

"Litigation," she confirms, not blinking.

You take a breath. "Wouldn't it have made way more sense to just put a mutual non-disparagement clause in the contract? No public criticism from either side after the breakup. Done. Simple."

Yujin and Rei look at each other. A beat passes.

"That… would have been better," Yujin admits.

"That would have been much simpler," Rei agrees.

"Honestly, that feels like a plot hole." Yujin scratches behind her ear. "But it is what it is. The contract says what it says. We need to make you cum, man. That's the rule of the game. Them's the terms. You’ll be king for a day, so live it up." She slaps both her thighs and stands up. "Besides, Rei already shaved everything for this occasion. Don't let that effort go to waste."

Rei's cheeks flush a shade of pink that's almost impressive in how fast it appears. "I shaved because I wanted to. It had nothing to do with this!"

"Sure it didn't."

"It didn't…”

You look at the two of them. You're tired. It's not even lunchtime and you've been dumped by proxy, threatened with a lawsuit, and propositioned by two women you met four minutes ago. This is, without question, the last thing you needed today.

But you'd be lying if you said they weren't both stunning. Yujin is tall, almost catching up to your height, with long legs that her tailored slacks do absolutely nothing to hide. Dark hair falls past her shoulders, thick and straight, framing features that seem built for trouble.

Rei is different. Softer. Her face is rounder, her features more delicate, with wide dark eyes that make her look endlessly curious. She's shorter than Yujin by a handful of centimeters, and her frame is slimmer, more compact. Her hair is long and dark, parted neatly, falling past her chest. Something in her reads as gentle and careful, as though she’s constantly anticipating what comes next but keeping that knowledge to herself. The blush is still sitting on her cheeks, making her look even more endearing.

Together, standing in your living room in their formal wear, they look like a legal team that accidentally wandered into a very inappropriate comedy movie.

You sigh. A long, defeated, resigned sigh. "Fine. Let's just get this over with."

Yujin grins and claps her hands together once, all business. "Rei. Open the black briefcase again. Get the contract."

Rei nods, turns to the coffee table, and pops open the latch on the nearest briefcase. The lid flips up, and you all three stare at its contents in a brief moment of shared silence. Inside, nestled in neat little compartments, is a full spread of lace lingerie in various colors, two bottles of lubricant, a silk blindfold, a set of what appear to be very expensive restraints, and a few other items you don't even want to identify right now.

"That's the other briefcase, idiot."

"Both briefcases are black, Yujin!”

"One has a silver clasp and one has a gold clasp. I told you this in the car."

"You told me a lot of things in the car. You talked for forty-five minutes straight about how a hotdog is technically a sandwich."

"Because it is. Open the other one."

Rei closes the sex briefcase with a firm snap and reaches for the second briefcase. This one, mercifully, contains a thick stack of legal documents and a matte black pen. She pulls them out and hands them to Yujin, who fans through the pages with ease before turning the whole thing over to you.

"Sign here." She points. "Here." She flips a page. "And here. This document certifies that we have completed our objective and that you agree to all terms and conditions outlined in the original relationship contract between yourself and Jang Wonyoung." She flips to the last page and taps a highlighted section. "And in case of non-compliance, you will be sued for millions."

"How many millions?"

"Many millions. You’d probably have to sell this place to help cover the costs."

Whatever. You read approximately none of the fine print, which is ironic given the conversation you just had about reading fine print. You scrawl your signature across all three lines, grumbling the entire time about how this is the most absurd Tuesday of your life. You hand the contract back. Yujin slots it into the briefcase with the reverence of someone archiving a sacred text.

"Beautiful. Now." She turns to face you fully, hands on her hips. "Do you have any preferences? Sexually, I mean. We'll do basically anything. I personally won't do anal." She jerks her thumb at Rei. "But maybe this one will. She looks like she'd be quite the little slut given the chance."

Rei's back straightens. "Hey, I am not doing anal. That's too kinky. And filthy..."

"Nobody needs to do anal," you say, rubbing your temples. "I don't need to fuck anyone's ass. Can we just… not talk about asses for a second?"

A silence settles over the three of you. It is, without exaggeration, one of the most awkward silences you have ever experienced. You're standing in your own living room with two women you met less than ten minutes ago, a signed sex contract on the table between you, and absolutely no idea what the appropriate next move is. Do you offer appetizers? Put on music? Is there a Spotify playlist for "breakup sex mandated by your ex-girlfriend's legal team"?

"Do you guys want something to drink?"

Rei perks up instantly. "I want a Coke."

"We're not drinking anything," Yujin cuts in. "You can have a Coke on the way home."

"You said that last time and I didn't get a Coke."

"I forgot. I bought one later."

"You bought Pepsi. I don't like Pepsi."

"They taste the same, Rei."

"They absolutely do not taste the same. Coke is better. It's always been better. It's scientifically proven."

You hold up a hand. "I'll give you a Coke before you leave. I have a whole fridge full."

Rei beams at you like you just promised her a pony. Yujin rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers twice, redirecting the room's energy back to the task at hand.

"We should start. Right now. Before this turns into a beverage debate." She reaches back into the first briefcase, the fun one, and pulls out several sets of lingerie, holding them up for your inspection. A red lace set. A black number with straps that seem architecturally impossible. Something white and sheer that leaves less to the imagination than a clear window. "Which one do you prefer?"

You look at the options. You look at Yujin. You look at Rei. "You don't have to wear any of that. I’m fine."

Yujin's face falls. She stares at the lingerie in her hands, then slowly, mournfully, folds each set and places them back in the briefcase. "I arranged all of this for nothing. I spent an hour picking these out. An hour. At La Perla."

"I'm sure they're very nice."

"They're gorgeous. You have no taste." She closes the briefcase. "Fine, Mr. Vanilla. Let's go."

You lead them down the hallway to your bedroom. It's large, open, and minimal. King bed against one wall, floor-to-ceiling windows on the other, clean surfaces, muted colors.

You turn to face them. "So. How do we start?"

Rei raises a tentative hand, half like she's in a classroom. "Maybe a few kisses? To break the ice?"

Yujin is already unbuttoning her blazer. "You two get started. I'm going to warm up."

You watch her shrug off her jacket and toss it onto a chair. "Why do you need to warm up before sex?"

"To avoid joint problems." She rolls her shoulders in slow circles. "Warming up is a fundamental part of any physical activity, including sex. Especially sex. I don't want to wake up tomorrow with neck pain and a tweaked hip because I went in cold." She drops into a lunge, stretching her right quad with absolute seriousness. "You can’t mess around when it comes to your health.”

You sit on the edge of the bed. Rei sits next to you, close but not quite touching. Her hands rest on her thighs, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. You look at her, and she gives you a small, shy smile that makes her round cheeks push up slightly.

"I've never seen you before," you say. "Are you new?"

"I started working with Wonyoung pretty recently. This is actually my first time doing something like this." She glances over at Yujin, who is now doing push-ups in her underwear on your bedroom floor. "Yujin is supervising me. She says I need field experience."

"Field experience."

"That's what she calls it."

In the corner, Yujin knocks out another push-up, perfectly controlled. Her arms flex, and her dark hair pools on the floor beneath her. The girl has form; you'll give her that.

You turn back to Rei. "Can I kiss you?"

She nods. Just a small dip of her chin. With her permission, you reach up and cup her face with one hand, your thumb resting just below her cheekbone. She's warm. Her skin is impossibly soft. You lean in and press your lips to hers, gentle, unhurried. Her mouth is full and plush, and there's a faint sweetness there, something glossy and almost fruity. The kiss stays soft for a few seconds before it deepens, just slightly, her lips parting, the tip of her tongue brushing against yours with a tentativeness that's almost careful. Like she's still figuring out how much of herself to give.

When you pull back, you drag your thumb slowly across her lower lip. The gloss smears just slightly.

"You're pretty," you tell her. "Cute, too."

"Thank you." A faint blush creeps up from her neck. "You're very polite. Most guys just skip straight to grabbing."

"I'm a gentleman. For now."

She bites the inside of her cheek, fighting a smile. "Can I take my clothes off now?"

You nod. Rei stands and starts with her blazer, folding it neatly over the back of a chair. You help her with the buttons on her blouse, fingers working down the front while she unzips her skirt and lets it slide down her legs. She steps out of it, and there she is. Black panties. Black bra. Just like she said.

Her body hits different without the corporate layers hiding it. She’s curvy in a way those formal clothes were clearly trying to keep in check. Full hips, a soft waist, thick thighs that brush together when she shifts. Her chest fills out her bra easily. Her face hasn’t changed though - round cheeks, wide brown eyes, lips still faintly smudged from your kiss. That contrast, innocent face and everything beneath it, makes your pulse spike.

You pull her gently back onto the bed and kiss her again, slower this time, your hand sliding to the back of her neck as you ease her down against the mattress. Her hair fans out across your sheets, dark against white. When you settle over her, careful to hold your weight, she looks up at you and there's this brightness in her eyes, something electric and new.

“You’re a really good kisser,” she murmurs. “Even more handsome in person, too.”

"Rei." Yujin's bark comes from the foot of the bed. She's finished her push-ups and is standing there in nothing but a matching navy bra and panties, hands on her hips, a thin sheen of sweat across her collarbones. "Tone it down with the sweet talk. You're here to accomplish a task, not fall in love with the target."

"What happens if she falls in love?" you ask, still hovering over Rei.

"I'll have to kill her."

Rei's eyes go wide.

Yujin holds the serious face for exactly two seconds, then breaks into a grin. "Kidding! But seriously, this is a professional engagement. Keep it professional."

"You just did push-ups on his floor in your underwear, Yujin. How professional is that?"

"Extremely. That was occupational health and safety." Yujin climbs onto the bed, and the mattress dips under her. She's lean and long, toned arms, flat stomach, legs that don't seem to end. She crawls toward you with a confidence that borders on territorial. "Move over, little bird. I want to see if he's really that good."

She grabs your jaw with one hand, not rough but not gentle either, pulls you off Rei and onto your back, and swings a leg over you. Before you can get a single syllable out, she's kissing you. And where Rei was tentative and sweet, Yujin is immediate and aggressive, her mouth hot against yours, her tongue pushing in without asking permission. She kisses like she's trying to win something. You match her energy, one hand gripping her waist, the other sliding up her back, and she makes a small sound of approval against your lips.

When she pulls back, she's slightly breathless. She wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb and tilts her head, evaluating. "Not bad. Eight out of ten. Room for improvement."

"Tough grader."

"I have standards." She looks down at Rei, who's propped up on her elbows watching the whole thing with mild fascination. Yujin's gaze drags over Rei's body with open appreciation. "She does have a really nice body, though. For someone who only drinks Coke."

"I don't only drink Coke! And I work out."

"When?"

"Sometimes..."

"Wow, that's fucking convincing." Yujin leans down and kisses her. Rei's hand comes up to rest on Yujin's shoulder, and for a moment the two of them are just tangled together on your bed, all lips and skin. Then Yujin pulls away and turns back to you.

"Clothes off. Rei, help me."

They work in tandem. Rei handles the buttons on your shirt while Yujin goes straight for your belt. Your shirt comes off first, and Rei's fingers trail briefly across your chest before she catches herself and pulls back. Your pants follow, Yujin yanking them off your legs with zero ceremony and tossing them somewhere behind her.

Both girls sit back on their heels and look at you. Just your boxer briefs left, and they're not doing a great job of hiding anything.

"Wonyoung picks her boyfriends very well," Yujin says, her gaze traveling across your torso, your arms, down your stomach. "At least she's got good taste in bodies."

Rei's head tilts. "Is it true that you and Wonyoung never actually had sex?"

"Yeah. We kissed a few times, tops. It never went further than that."

Yujin snorts. "That's pathetic."

“Hey, don’t be so harsh,” Rei says.

"No, she's right," you admit. "It was a pathetic relationship. The whole thing was for show."

"Okay, that's enough moping." Yujin flicks your forehead with her finger. "Stop crying. You've got two girls to fuck today. That's a net upgrade from zero. Rei, calm the baby down."

Rei leans over you and starts pressing small, quick kisses all over your face. Forehead. Cheeks. Nose. Chin. The corner of your mouth. Each one leaves a faint lipstick mark on your skin, and she giggles between them. Yujin joins in from the other side, stamping little prints across your jaw and temple.

You can feel them both laughing, their breath warm against your skin, and despite everything, you have to press your lips together to stop yourself from smiling. "Okay. You can stop now,” you say, and they obey, still laughing. “You’re gonna leave me looking like a passport full of stamps.”

Yujin's hand slides south. Her fingers trail down your stomach and settle over the front of your boxer briefs. She palms you through the fabric, and her eyebrows lift, not dramatically, just a little. Her grip adjusts, fingers curling slightly, testing the thickness, the length. You feel yourself twitch against her hand.

Rei reaches over too, her smaller hand pressing against you from the other side, and her lips part just slightly. "It's really big."

"The little bird loves a big cock in her mouth, don't you, Rei?" Yujin squeezes you gently through the cotton, not taking her eyes off Rei's face.

"Maybe..."

Yujin takes Rei's face in her free hand, squishing her cheeks gently between her fingers, and angles her toward you like she's presenting a product. "Look at this adorable little face. These brown eyes. These full lips. Tell me they don't look perfect wrapped around a cock."

The blush on Rei's cheeks darkens, spreading down her neck. She pulls her face free from Yujin's grip. “You’re way more of a slut than I am,” she says flatly.

“Hard disagree,” Yujin shoots back. “That title’s yours.”

“No,” Rei pushes. “You.”

“Still you,” Yujin says.

“Not even close,” Rei pushes back.

They continue this back and forth while their hands work together to tug your boxer briefs down your thighs, over your knees, and off your ankles. Your cock springs free, fully hard, thick and flushed and straining against your stomach.

Both of them go quiet for about half a second.

"Well," Yujin says.

"Yeah," Rei agrees.

Your cock sits between them, heavy and at their complete disposal. Rei makes the first move. Her fingers wrap around the base of your cock, tentative at first, like she's testing the weight of it. Her grip is soft, polite even, and she gives a slow experimental stroke from root to tip. Yujin's hand joins a second later, wrapping around the upper half, and together their fingers overlap and slide in a lazy, uncoordinated rhythm that somehow still feels incredible.

"Okay, he's really hard," Rei murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. Her thumb swipes across the head, spreading the bead of precum that's already gathered there. She watches it with a focus that borders on academic.

"What did you expect? We've been touching him for ten minutes." Yujin adjusts her grip, tighter, more purposeful. She strokes you with a confidence that suggests she's done this more than a few times, her wrist rolling at the top of each stroke. "Rei, match my pace. You're going too slow."

"I'm being gentle."

"He doesn't need gentle. He needs results." They find a rhythm eventually, both hands working you in tandem, Yujin's grip firmer and faster, Rei's softer and more exploratory. The contrast alone is enough to make your hips shift against the mattress. Two different touches, two different temperatures, four hands on you at once. Your cock throbs between their fingers, thick and flushed, and you let your head fall back against the pillow.

Then Yujin leans forward and spits directly onto the head of your cock. A thick, wet strand that rolls down the shaft and over both their fingers. Rei blinks. "Yujin!"

"What? It needs to be wet. I'm providing lubrication. This is a professional service."

Yujin doesn't wait for further commentary. She dips her head and takes you into her mouth, her lips stretching around the tip, her tongue pressing flat against the underside as she slides down. She's sloppy about it on purpose, generating as much spit as possible, pulling back to let long strings of saliva connect her lips to your cock before diving back in. She bobs her head with an efficiency that matches the rest of her personality: fast, aggressive, no wasted motion. Her hand works what her mouth can't reach, twisting on each upstroke.

She pulls off and nudges your cock toward Rei. "Your turn. Show me what you've got, little bird." Rei tucks her hair behind both ears, lowers her head, and takes you in. And immediately goes deeper than Yujin did. Significantly deeper. Her throat opens and your cock slides in past the halfway point, then further, her nose nearly touching your pelvis before she pulls back with a slow, controlled drag. Your stomach clenches. Your fingers grip the sheets.

"What the fuck," Yujin says, watching Rei's throat work.

Rei comes up for air, a thin line of spit trailing from her lower lip. She wipes her chin with the back of her hand. "What?"

"Since when can you do that?"

"I've always been able to do that."

The two alternate. Yujin takes the left side, her tongue tracing the length from base to tip, getting you soaked, spreading spit everywhere with a shamelessness that's almost admirable. Then Rei swallows you deep again, her throat constricting around your shaft, and holds there for a count that makes your toes curl before pulling back.

It's been a long time since anyone has put their mouth on you. Months. Maybe longer. You stayed faithful to Wonyoung through the entire relationship, which in retrospect was probably the stupidest form of loyalty you've ever demonstrated. You very much doubt she showed you the same courtesy, but that's a thought for another day, because right now two beautiful girls are sharing your cock and your brain is having trouble forming complete sentences.

"So," you manage, your breathing a little uneven as Rei takes you deep again. "What do you two usually do when you're not, uh. Working?"

Yujin pulls her mouth off the side of your shaft and gives you a flat look, saliva glossing her chin. "Don't try to engage in personal conversation. This is a professional engagement."

"You're literally licking my dick."

"And it's a perfect dick, by the way. I mean that professionally." She drags her tongue from your balls to the tip in one long stripe. "Professionally perfect. Five stars on the dick Yelp."

Rei surfaces, catching her breath, her lips swollen and shiny. "I like watching anime," she says casually, like she's not kneeling between your legs with your cock an inch from her face. "And I play my Switch 2 a lot. And I listen to music."

"Yeah? Who do you listen to?"

She wraps her hand around you and strokes slowly while she talks, absentminded, like she's forgotten what her hand is doing. "I really like Noah Cyrus. Aphex Twin. Gracie Abrams. Björk. A lot of different stuff."

Yujin groans. "Here we go. She's so performative with this indie shit. She even has a Letterboxd."

"What's wrong with having a Letterboxd?" Rei asks, visibly offended.

"You probably fakelist all those weird movies. There's no way you actually watched Mulholland Drive and understood it.”

"I understood it."

"What's it about then?"

Rei opens her mouth, pauses, then puts your cock back in it instead of answering. A tactical retreat.

"That's what I thought." Yujin grabs a fistful of Rei's hair, gently, and guides her pace. "Stop talking and keep sucking him off. Earn your five stars for best blowjob giver." She leans down and joins her, both their mouths working you simultaneously. Yujin shifts lower, her tongue finding your balls, lapping at them with broad, wet strokes while her hand holds the base of your cock steady. She takes one into her mouth and sucks gently, and you feel it all the way up your spine.

Meanwhile Rei has you deep in her throat again, her nose pressed against your lower stomach, swallowing around you in a way that makes your abs tense involuntarily. She holds there, eyes watering just slightly, then pulls back with a gasp and immediately goes back down.

"She can swallow the whole thing," Yujin observes, pulling off your balls to watch. "She must have sucked a lot of dick to get this good. That's just math."

Rei comes up, flushed. "That's not true. I just have a good throat."

"That's what they all say."

"It's what I say. Because it's true."

"Sure, Rei. And Mulholland Drive makes sense." They both come together at the tip, their tongues meeting around the head of your cock, lapping at it from opposite sides. Rei's tongue slides across the sensitive underside while Yujin circles the ridge, and then their tongues touch, slick and pink, and they kiss over the head of your cock, slow and messy. Yujin bites Rei's lower lip gently before pulling away. Rei's eyes are glazed, her cheeks are red, and there's spit all over her chin.

They pull back. Your cock stands between them, absolutely drenched, twitching against your stomach. Rei leans in one more time and presses a soft, almost tender kiss to the very tip. Just a peck. She looks up at you through her lashes. "Do I deserve five stars?"

"Absolutely,” you reply, sounding slightly breathless. “I'd write a review praising your technique. Detailed. With specific examples."

Her smile is genuine, bright enough to crease her whole face. It’s achingly cute, at odds with her puffed lips and the messy trail of spit and precum glistening on her chin. “That’s so sweet.”

Yujin sits up and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "Okay. Enough of the customer satisfaction survey. It's time to put this cock to work." She pats your thigh firmly. "Let's see if it's just for show or if it has some practical use."

"It has practical use,” you inform Yujin.

"We'll be the judges of that." She settles back on her heels and looks at you expectantly. "So who do you want to fuck first?" Before you can answer, Yujin turns her head sharply to the side and sneezes. Hard. She sniffles, blinks, and waves a hand in front of her face. "Sorry. My rhinitis flares up when I give head. Something about the angle." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "I really need to get that deviated septum surgery. I've been putting it off."

"Take your time."

"I'm fine. Answer the question. Who do you want first?"

"I don't mind. Whoever wants to go."

Yujin gestures at Rei with a tilt of her head. "Rei goes first, then. Since she's already head over heels for you."

Rei straightens up, indignant. "I am not head over heels for anyone. I'm just an affectionate person."

"You kissed the tip of his dick like it was a puppy."

"That's just how I am."

"Great. Then you can be very affectionate eating my pussy while he fucks you from behind. Put all that affection to good use." Yujin is already reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. "Clothes off. Both of us. Let's go." The two of them strip. Yujin's bra comes off first, and her breasts are small but firm, her nipples already stiff. She hooks her thumbs into her panties and peels them down her legs without an ounce of self-consciousness, kicking them off the side of the bed. She's lean all over, slim hips, toned stomach, long legs, with a neat strip of dark hair between her thighs.

Rei takes a little longer. She reaches back and undoes her bra with careful fingers, letting the straps slide down her shoulders before pulling it away. Her breasts are fuller than Yujin's, round and heavy, and they settle against her chest with a softness that makes you stare. She wiggles out of her panties, and true to her earlier claim, she's smooth everywhere. Her hips flare wider than Yujin's, her thighs thicker, her whole body built along softer, rounder lines. She looks like a Renaissance painting someone accidentally dropped into the twenty-first century.

Both of them naked, side by side on your bed, are a sight that your brain is going to be replaying for the rest of your natural life.

Yujin catches you staring. "Have you never seen two naked girls at the same time before?"

"No. Never."

"Seriously? With your money?" She shakes her head with genuine disbelief. "If I had your bank account, my bed would be full of whores every single day. I'd have a subscription service."

"I had a girlfriend."

"You had a business partner. There's a difference." She crawls up the bed and settles against the headboard, sitting upright with her legs parted. She pats the space between them and looks at Rei. "Come on, little bird. Get in position."

Rei gets on all fours. She lowers herself, her elbows resting on the mattress, and settles her face between Yujin's open thighs. Her back arches naturally, pushing her ass up and out toward you. The curve of her spine is ridiculous, dipping down from her shoulders to the swell of her hips, and from this angle you can see everything, the smooth skin between her thighs, the pink of her pussy already glistening. She shifts her knees apart slightly, adjusting, and looks back over her shoulder at you. You're on your knees behind her, your cock still slick and hard, and the two of them are spread out in front of you like something your subconscious could never have conjured on its best night.

You're halfway to lining yourself up when a thought hits you. You pull back slightly. "Wait. Condom. I need a condom."

Yujin doesn't even blink. "Not necessary. We're both clean and on the pill. It's a job requirement. Wonyoung's team is very thorough about health compliance."

Rei turns her head, her cheek resting against Yujin's inner thigh. "We prefer to fuck raw anyway."

Yujin strokes Rei's hair once, almost affectionately. "The little bird is right. Besides, we've already had access to your medical records. Full panel. You're clean too."

You stare at her. "I think it's better if I don't ask how you got access to my medical records."

"Yeah, that would be wise."

You settle back into position behind Rei, your knees sinking into the mattress between her spread thighs. Her ass is pushed up toward you, round and full, and the arch in her lower back deepens the curve of her hips into something that makes your cock twitch. You reach down and run your index and middle fingers together along her entrance, slow, tracing the seam of her. She's soaked. Her lips are plump and pink and slick, and when your fingers drag through the wetness gathered there, she trembles. Not a big shudder, just a fine vibration that runs through her thighs and up her spine. Your fingers slide easily, parting her, feeling the heat radiating off her.

"Please put it in," Rei says, her grip tightening on the sheets near Yujin's hips. "Quickly. Sir."

Yujin's eyebrows shoot up at that. She looks down at Rei, then up at you, and a grin tugs at the corner of her mouth. She says nothing, but the look on her face says plenty. She threads her fingers into Rei's hair and guides her head gently between her legs. "Focus here, little bird. You've got a job to do too."

You take your cock in one hand and press the tip against Rei's entrance. The heat alone is staggering. You push forward, just the head at first, and her body resists for a second before opening around you, tight and slick and deliciously warm. You sink in an inch and stop, letting her adjust. She's so fucking tight it's almost difficult to move. Every fraction you push deeper, her walls grip you, squeeze you, like her body is trying to memorize the shape of you.

Rei exhales shakily into Yujin's thigh. Her fingers curl into the sheets. "My god, his dick..." You give her another inch. Then another. You can feel every ridge of her around you, the wet heat pulling you in, her muscles clenching and releasing in tiny flutters as she stretches to accommodate your thickness. By the time you're halfway inside her, Rei's forehead is pressed against Yujin's pelvis and her breathing has gone shallow and ragged.

"Breathe, Rei," Yujin says from above, her fingers still laced through Rei's hair. "And start licking. Multitask, babe."

Rei lifts her head slightly and lowers her mouth to Yujin's pussy. You watch her tongue extend and make contact, a slow, flat stroke from bottom to top, and Yujin's stomach muscles tighten visibly. Rei licks again, finding her rhythm, her tongue working in careful, measured passes while you continue feeding your cock into her from behind.

"Good girl," Yujin murmurs, and her hips shift against Rei's mouth.

You bottom out. Your hips press flush against Rei's ass, every inch of you buried inside her, and the sensation is so overwhelming that you have to hold still for a moment and just breathe. She's tight and hot and wet and alive around you, her walls pulsing, adjusting, gripping. You pull back slowly, watching your cock slide out of her, glistening, before pushing back in with a long, steady stroke. Rei gasps against Yujin's pussy, and you feel the vibration of it through your own body somehow.

You set a slow pace. There's no rush. Each thrust is full and deep, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in to the base, and you savor every single second of it. The way her body yields to you, the wet friction, the obscene sound of skin meeting skin. You grip Rei's hips with both hands, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh above her ass, and use that leverage to control the depth and angle of each stroke. Her ass ripples slightly every time your hips connect, and the sight of it alone is enough to keep you hard for the rest of the afternoon.

Your eyes lift from Rei's back and find Yujin's. She's sitting against the headboard, legs spread wide, Rei's face buried between them, and she's looking right at you. Not at Rei. Not at the ceiling. At you. Those dark eyes are half-lidded and sharp at the same time, full of something that isn't quite challenge and isn't quite invitation but sits in that dangerous space between the two. She bites her lower lip, slow, letting her teeth drag across the pink of it, and holds your gaze.

"You look good like that," she says. "Behind her. Holding her hips. All that control." Her chin dips slightly. "It suits you."

You thrust into Rei again, unhurried, and watch Yujin's expression flicker as Rei moans against her. "You look pretty good yourself. Legs spread. Holding her hair while she eats your pussy." You push in deep and hold there, grinding slightly, and Rei whimpers. "Speaking of which. How's she doing down there?"

Yujin's breath catches. A low, unguarded moan slips out of her before she can stop it. She recovers quickly, tipping her head back against the headboard. "Pretty good. The little bird has a very skillful tongue. I'll give her that."

"I know. I just had that mouth on my cock. She's talented."

"Mm. Multi-talented." Yujin's hips roll forward against Rei's face, a slow, grinding motion she's clearly trying to keep subtle and failing. Her fingers tighten in Rei's hair. "She's doing this thing right now with the tip of her tongue that's... yeah. That's really good."

You pull back and thrust into Rei harder. Not brutal, but firm enough that the impact travels through her entire body, pushes her face deeper between Yujin's legs. Rei moans, a muffled, desperate sound that vibrates directly against Yujin's clit, and Yujin's thighs clamp around Rei's head for a split second before she forces them open again.

"Fuck," Yujin breathes. "Do that again."

You do it again. A deep, intentional thrust that buries you to the hilt inside Rei, and her whole body rocks forward. She moans louder this time, the sound smothered by Yujin's pussy, and you can see the effect it has in real time: Yujin's stomach flexing, her toes curling against the sheets, her fingers pulling Rei's hair tighter.

"You're using her as a vibrator," Yujin says, and there's a breathlessness in the way she says it that wasn't there before. "That's very resourceful."

"I'm a problem solver."

Rei pulls her head up just long enough to gasp for air, her chin slick, her lips swollen and shiny. "You two are going to break me and I haven't even been here an hour." She sounds wrecked already, her eyes glassy, her cheeks flushed so deep they're almost red.

"Get back to work," Yujin says, pressing Rei's head back down. "You're on the clock."

You settle into a rhythm. Each stroke is measured and full, your hips meeting Rei's ass with a steady, wet impact that echoes off the bedroom walls. You're not rushing. You're not chasing anything. You're just enjoying the feel of her, tight and slick and trembling around you, and the view in front of you is so fucking good it almost doesn't feel real. Rei's back, arched and glistening with the faintest sheen of sweat. Her ass, round and pushed back against you, taking every inch of you like she was built for it. And beyond her, Yujin, watching you with those dark, sharp eyes, her chest rising and falling a little faster than she'd probably like to admit.

You change the angle slightly, tilting your hips upward on the next thrust, and Rei's entire body jolts. She pulls off Yujin's pussy and her mouth falls open, a choked, guttural sound pouring out of her that she clearly wasn't expecting. "There," she pants. "Right there. Please."

"You found her spot," Yujin says, looking at you over Rei's trembling body. "You're getting warmer."

You hit the same angle again, a slow grind that presses the head of your cock against that swollen ridge inside her, and Rei's arms give out. Her chest drops to the mattress, her face turning sideways against Yujin's thigh, and her fingers grip Yujin's hips with a desperation that leaves white marks on her skin. You keep going, maintaining that exact angle, that exact pressure, and Rei is falling apart beneath you in a way that's almost too satisfying.

"Use your tongue, Rei," Yujin reminds her, tugging her hair. "Don't forget about me." Rei, with visible effort, turns her head back and buries her face between Yujin's legs again. Her licking is messier now, less precise, all broad strokes and sloppy enthusiasm, but from the way Yujin's abs keep clenching, it's working just fine.

You lean forward slightly, one hand still on Rei's hip, the other bracing on the mattress, and fuck into her with a slow, grinding pace that never lets her catch her breath. Every time you bottom out, you hold there for half a second, letting her feel the full depth of you, before pulling back and doing it again. Rei is shaking. Her thighs are quivering. And the sounds she's making into Yujin's pussy are getting louder, needier, more broken with every thrust.

"She's dripping all over your sheets," Yujin observes, glancing down between Rei's legs. "Absolutely ruining them. I hope you have a good dry cleaner."

"I'll manage."

"You better. Egyptian cotton isn't cheap." Yujin's hips buck forward against Rei's mouth, just once, a sharp involuntary movement she immediately tries to play off by adjusting her position against the headboard. But you saw it. You saw the way her jaw tightened, the way her fingers gripped a fistful of Rei's hair and held on, the way her thighs tensed and trembled for a fraction of a second.

She catches you watching and narrows her eyes. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Stop smiling."

"I'm not smiling."

"You're smiling with your eyes. Stop it." You thrust into Rei again, deep and firm, and the moan Rei produces into Yujin's pussy makes Yujin's head fall back against the headboard with an audible thud. Her eyes flutter shut. Her chest heaves. And for just a moment, the cocky, controlled, chaos-agent exterior cracks, and underneath it there's just a girl getting her pussy eaten really, really well.

She opens her eyes and finds you still looking at her. Something shifts in her expression. Something warm and a little bit dangerous. "Your turn is coming," she says. "And I'm not going to be as easy as she is."

"Looking forward to it."

Rei lifts her head, breathless, chin soaked, and manages to look over her shoulder at you with half-lidded eyes. "Can you go a little harder? Please, sir?" You grab Rei's hips with both hands and give her exactly what she asked for. The pace shifts from slow and teasing to firm, constant, each thrust landing with purpose and weight. Your hips snap forward and drive deep, pulling back just enough to slam home again, and the wet, rhythmic slap of your skin against hers fills the room like a metronome set to filthy. Rei's whole body rocks forward with every stroke, her knees sliding on the sheets, her fingers clawing at whatever she can reach.

You spread her cheeks with both thumbs, pulling them apart, and the view opens up completely. Her pussy stretched around your cock, pink and swollen and glistening, gripping you on every outstroke like she doesn't want to let you go. Her tight little asshole on full display above it, clenching involuntarily every time you bottom out. Everything wet, everything exposed, everything yours to look at while you fuck her at a pace that's making her lose the ability to form thoughts.

"Don't stop," Rei pants into Yujin's thigh, her face turned sideways because she can barely hold herself up anymore. "Please don't stop. Your dick is too fucking good."

Yujin looks down at her with undisguised delight. Her eyes are wide and bright and she's grinning in a way that suggests she's witnessing something she's been waiting to see for a very long time. The sweet Rei. The polite Rei. The girl who watches anime and plays her Switch and listens to Björk and blushes when someone mentions her underwear. That Rei is currently face-down between another girl's legs, getting railed from behind, and begging for more. Yujin reaches down and strokes Rei's hair away from her flushed, sweaty face like she's petting a cat.

"Look at you," Yujin says, and her tone is somewhere between pride and amazement. "Little miss 'I just have a good throat.' Little miss 'I'm just an affectionate person.' You're a complete slut, Rei."

Rei's fingers tighten on Yujin's thigh. Her back arches deeper, pressing her ass harder against you. "I can't help it." Her eyes are squeezed shut and her mouth is hanging open and the flush on her face has spread all the way down her neck to her chest. "His cock is just too fucking good. It's so thick and it's hitting everything and I can't think straight."

You thrust into her hard enough that her body lurches forward and she lets out a sound that's half gasp, half moan, entirely desperate. You bring your hand down on her right ass cheek, a sharp, clean slap that leaves a pink print on her skin and makes her whole body clench around you. The tightness is staggering. You feel it from the tip of your cock to the base of your spine. "Moan for me," you tell her.

Rei's head drops. Her shoulders tremble. And when you thrust into her again, she lets it out, a raw, unfiltered moan that she doesn't even try to contain. It's loud enough to bounce off the walls of your minimalist bedroom, and it's the most genuine sound you've heard all day.

"Yes, daddy!" The word falls out of her mouth like it's been sitting there waiting for permission. "Spank my ass more. Please. Harder."

You slap her left cheek this time, harder, and Rei's pussy clenches so tight around you that your rhythm stutters for a second. Her skin blooms red under your palm and she pushes back against you, grinding herself onto your cock with a desperation that's completely unrecognizable from the shy, formal girl who handed you a briefcase forty minutes ago.

"Again," she begs. "Please, daddy, again."

You give her another one, right across the curve where her ass meets her thigh, and the moan she produces is broken and raw and so loud that Yujin stops even pretending Rei is going to eat her out anymore. Rei's face is buried in the mattress between Yujin's legs, her mouth open, drool soaking into the sheets, and every thrust you deliver makes her entire body shake.

Yujin shifts her position, sliding her back up the headboard so she can see better. She spreads her legs wider, her left hand drifting between her own thighs, two fingers finding her clit and starting to rub in slow, tight circles. Her right hand stays in Rei's hair, gripping loosely, more for contact than control now.

"Fuck her good," Yujin tells you, her fingers picking up speed between her legs. "Harder. Reset her brain. I want to see her forget her own name."

You grab Rei's hips and pull her back onto your cock as you thrust forward, and the collision draws a sound out of her that isn't even a moan anymore, it's just noise, raw and broken and high-pitched. Her hands are fisted in the sheets so hard her knuckles have gone white. Her back is arched so deep her stomach nearly touches the mattress. And she's babbling, a stream of fragmented, barely coherent pleas that tumble out of her in between gasps. "So deep, you're so fucking deep, I can feel you in my stomach, don't stop, please don't stop, daddy, please..."

"She called you daddy," Yujin says, rubbing her clit faster, her chest rising and falling with quickening breaths. "Twice. The sweet little rookie is calling you daddy. This is the best day of my professional career."

You maintain the pace, steady and relentless, your cock driving into Rei with a consistency that never lets her come down. Every time she thinks she's caught her breath, you're already bottoming out again, filling her completely, your hips pressed flush against her ass. The wet sounds between you are constant and obscene, and Rei's pussy is so slick that every thrust produces an audible squelch that would be embarrassing in any other context but right now just makes you fuck her harder.

"I think I'm gonna cum," Rei gasps suddenly, and her whole body goes rigid. Her walls clamp down on you so hard you can barely move. Her thighs are shaking violently, her toes curling, her fingers tearing at the sheets. "Holy shit. Holy shit, I'm going to cum on your dick. I'm going to cum, I can't stop it, it's right there..."

"Cum for me." You grip her hips and keep your pace exactly where it is, deep and firm, hitting that spot inside her with every stroke. "Cum like a good girl."

"Yes, daddy." Her entire body is vibrating. Her head lifts off the mattress and her back arches and her mouth opens and nothing comes out for a second, two seconds, three seconds. "Yes, daddy, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm—"

Yujin exhales sharply, her fingers a blur between her own legs. "Fuck, it's so hot watching her like this. She's completely gone. I'm almost cumming just from looking at her."

Rei's orgasm hits her suddenly and all at once. Her body locks up completely, every muscle tensed, and then she lets out a sharp, sustained moan that breaks in the middle and keeps going. You feel it around your cock, intense rhythmic contractions that squeeze and release, squeeze and release, her pussy pulsing around you in waves. Her thighs clamp against your hips. Her fingers claw the sheets so hard you hear fabric rip. The flush on her skin darkens to a deep, blotchy red that spreads from her cheeks down her neck to her shoulders.

You slow your pace, dragging it out. Long, deep, lazy strokes that keep her trembling, keep the contractions going, coax every last tremor out of her. Every slow thrust draws another whimper from her, smaller now, softer, her body twitching each time you push in. You can feel the aftershocks rippling through her, her walls fluttering weakly around your cock, and the wet heat between you is almost unbearable.

Gradually, Rei's body goes slack. Her knees give out and she melts onto her stomach, sinking into the mattress with the boneless grace of someone whose skeleton has temporarily left the building. She's still shaking, tiny little aftershocks running through her limbs, and her breathing is ragged and uneven. You lean over her, your chest close to her back, and press your lips to her shoulder. She's warm and damp with sweat and she smells faintly like floral fruity perfume and sex.

Rei turns her head on the pillow and looks up at you. Her eyes are glazed. Her lips are parted. Her hair is plastered to her forehead in sweaty strands. And she's smiling. It's the dumbest, happiest, most sex-drunk grin you've ever seen on a human face, the kind of smile that only happens when someone's brain is still rebooting after a catastrophic pleasure event. "I can't believe Wonyoung never tried your cock," she mumbles, still catching her breath. "What a waste. What an absolute waste. She had this the entire time and she never once sat on it."

"Her loss,” you say.

"Her monumental loss." Rei shifts slightly, wincing at the sensitivity, then settles back into the mattress with a contented sigh. "I barely had one orgasm and I already want more. My legs don't work though. Give me a minute."

"Take your time."

"Nope." Yujin is already moving. She crawls across the bed with the energy of someone who's been watching the previews and is ready for the main feature. She nudges Rei's leg out of the way and settles between yours, her fingers wrapping around your cock, still slick and hard and coated in the evidence of Rei's orgasm. She looks at it for a second, appraising, then lowers her mouth and takes you in.

The taste of Rei's cum on your cock makes Yujin hum appreciatively, a low, sustained vibration around your shaft that sends a shockwave through your hips. She sucks slowly, savoring it, her tongue swirling and pressing, cleaning every inch of you with a thoroughness that's almost meditative. She pulls off with a wet sound and licks her lips.

"Tastes so good," she says, stroking you lazily, her thumb smearing Rei's slickness along the shaft. "Like Coke."

From somewhere behind her, Rei grunts. "Stop it!"

A pillow flies across the bed and catches Yujin in the side of the head. She catches it one-handed before it falls, laughing so hard her shoulders shake, and tosses it onto the floor. "Chill! I’m kidding..." She gives your cock one more long, slow lick from base to tip, then releases you and crawls forward, positioning herself above you.

Yujin straddles your hips, her knees on either side of your waist, her hands flat on your chest. She's lean and warm above you, her dark hair hanging around her face, her small breasts catching the light from the windows. Up close, you can see the thin sheen of sweat on her collarbones, the slight flush across her chest, the way her pupils are blown wide despite the composed expression she's wearing. She reaches back with one hand and takes hold of your cock, angling it upward, and you feel the head press against her entrance, hot and slick. She's wetter than she probably wants to admit.

She holds you there, right at the edge, not letting you in. She looks down at you with an expression that's part challenge, part warning. "Let's see what all the fuss is about." She rolls her hips slightly, teasing, the tip of your cock sliding through her wetness without entering. "I should tell you upfront. I'm not easily impressed. Not like Rei."

From across the bed, Rei lifts her head just enough to protest. "I wasn't easily impressed, his dick is just really good."

"You called him daddy within five minutes."

"He earned it." Yujin ignores her. She adjusts her grip on your cock, positions it exactly where she wants it, and locks eyes with you. "Ready?"

"Yes. Let's see if the professional is really that good."

Yujin's eyebrow lifts. A slow, dangerous arch. "Are you challenging me?"

"I am."

She grins. "You just made a very big mistake." She shifts her weight above you, her thighs flexing on either side of your hips. "New rule. Whoever orgasms first loses. And the loser has to fulfill one request from the winner. Anything. No limits, no negotiations, no backing out. Are you in?"

"Yeah, I'm in,” you say, confidently.

"Good." Yujin sinks down onto your cock. Her jaw tightens and her eyes narrow but she doesn't make a sound, taking you inside her with a controlled patience that's almost defiant. She's tight, not as tight as Rei but tight in a different way, her muscles gripping you with an intentional squeeze that tells you she knows exactly what she's doing with her body. When she bottoms out, her ass flush against your thighs, she lets out a single measured breath through her nose and rolls her shoulders.

From the other side of the bed, Rei is lying on her stomach, chin propped on her hands, watching the two of you with the satisfied, dreamy look of someone who just got thoroughly fucked and is now enjoying the show. She catches your eye and gives you a small, conspiratorial nod. "I'm rooting for you."

Yujin's head whips toward her. "Traitor. Traitor to the entire gender. I'm writing you up for this."

"Write me up all you want. I want him to win."

"You've known him for an hour. I expected a bit more from you.” Yujin turns back to you and starts to move. Torturously slow. She lifts her hips until just the head of your cock is inside her, holds there for a count that feels like an eternity, then sinks back down in one fluid, rolling motion. It's sensual in a way that's almost aggressive, every movement calculated to make you feel as much as possible while she gives away nothing. Her stomach flexes. Her thighs tense. She keeps her eyes locked on yours the entire time, watching for any crack in your composure, any twitch, any tell.

"So," she says, rolling her hips in a slow circle that makes your fingers dig into the sheets. "Do you know what you'll ask for? If, hypothetically, by some miracle, you manage to win this bet?"

You look up at her. At both of them. "I wanna get to know you two better. I want to take you both out. Get dinner. actually having a real conversation instead of just this… transactional sex."

Yujin laughs. "A date? That's your big ask? You could ask for anything and you want to take us to dinner?" She shakes her head, still riding you with that agonizing slowness. "Smart aleck. Trying to charm us. Well, it doesn't matter, because you're not going to win. We'll finish the job today and you'll never see either of us again. We serve Wonyoung."

"I can treat you both better than she does,” you argue.

Yujin's rhythm falters for just a fraction of a second. Barely noticeable. She covers it immediately. "Oh yeah?"

"As people. Not tools for her to dispatch whenever she can't be bothered to handle her own life."

The room goes quiet for a beat. Just the wet, slick sound of Yujin moving on you and the soft rustle of sheets. Then she starts bouncing. Properly bouncing, lifting herself up and dropping back down with a snap of her hips that drives your cock deep and draws a sharp exhale from your chest. Her ass connects with your thighs on every downstroke and the impact sends ripples through her body that you can feel in your teeth.

She's good. She's really fucking good. The way she angles her hips, the way she squeezes you at the top of each bounce, the way she uses her weight on the drop. Her ass is incredible, firm and round, and watching it work as she rides you is pure bliss.

"What about you?" you manage, keeping your breathing even through sheer willpower. "What's your request if you win?"

Yujin's grin turns feral. She leans forward, her hands on your chest, her face close to yours. "I'm going to fuck your ass." You swallow hard. "There's a strap-on in the briefcase in the living room. You're going to be my slut." She punctuates this with a hard downward thrust that buries you to the hilt. "I'm going to bend you over this very expensive bed and make you call me mommy."

Across the bed, Rei buries her face in the pillow. Her ears are bright red. You can hear her muffled squeak of shock through the cotton.

You hold Yujin's gaze. You keep your expression perfectly flat, perfectly unbothered, even though she's riding your cock like she's trying to break it. "Then maybe you'd better try harder. I've had better rides from girls before."

Her face changes instantly, the playful confidence slipping away as raw irritation takes its place. Her jaw clenches, her eyes narrow, and she starts riding you harder, slamming herself down with a ferocity that shakes the entire bed frame. Her pace doubles, then triples, her hips working furiously, the wet slap of skin against skin filling the room in a relentless rhythm. She's going to make you cum through sheer force of will and spite, and honestly the strategy isn't bad.

But it's costing her. Her breathing is getting ragged. Short, sharp inhales through her nose, quick exhales through parted lips. And the moans, the ones she's been holding back since this started, are beginning to leak out. Small ones at first, barely more than breathy gasps, but they're growing in volume and frequency with every passing second. Her thighs are trembling. The flush across her chest is deepening. "Rei." Yujin's composure is cracking and she knows it. "Help me. Do something. Get over here."

Rei lifts her head from the pillow and looks at you, questioning. You give her a small nod. It's fine. She crawls across the bed to your side, her body still flushed and marked from her own session, and lowers her mouth to your chest. Her lips close around your left nipple and she sucks gently, her tongue flicking across the sensitive skin, and the added sensation sends a jolt straight down your spine to your cock. Rei's hand rests on your stomach, warm and grounding, and she alternates between soft licks and gentle suction, her eyes closed, completely content in her supporting role.

You place both hands on Yujin's waist. Your thumbs press into the grooves of her hip bones and you guide her rhythm, not changing it, just steadying it, controlling the angle so that every time she drops down your cock hits exactly where it needs to. Yujin lets you, too focused on maintaining her pace to fight the direction, and the adjustment makes her next moan come out louder than the ones before.

You watch her. The way her stomach flexes with every movement. The way her small breasts bounce with each impact. The way her dark hair swings and sticks to the sweat on her neck and shoulders. The way her lips part and her brow furrows with concentration and barely contained pleasure. She's stunning. Absolutely, unreasonably stunning, in a way that's completely different from Rei's softness, all sharp angles and lean muscle and controlled power that's currently losing its grip. "You're gorgeous," you tell her.

Her eyes snap to yours. "What?"

"You're gorgeous. I'm looking at you riding me and you're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen." Something complicated happens on Yujin's face. She tries to smirk but it comes out uneven, one corner of her mouth lifting while the other trembles. Her rhythm stutters and she has to reset, grinding down on you to find her pace again. "More gorgeous than Wonyoung?"

"Yes. A lot more."

The reaction is subtle but it's there. A softening around her eyes. A looseness in her shoulders that wasn't there before. Her fingers, braced on your chest, press a little harder, like she's anchoring herself to something. She liked it. She liked it a lot, and she's going to go to her grave before she admits that out loud. "You just broke up with your girlfriend," she says, and her attempt at a dismissive tone is undercut by the breathlessness in every syllable, "and you're already hitting on someone else. You're a slut. All men are the same. Every single one."

Rei detaches from your nipple, her chin resting on your chest, and looks up at Yujin with raised eyebrows. "You're being too bratty."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Rei's hand squeezes your stomach once, encouraging. A grin spreads across her face, still loopy from her own orgasm. "Daddy, put her in her place."

You tighten your grip on Yujin's waist. She sees the shift in your expression half a second before she feels it, and her eyes widen just slightly. "Wait, what are you..." You plant your feet flat on the mattress and thrust upward. Hard. A single, powerful stroke that drives your cock deep inside her and lifts her knees off the bed for a fraction of a second. The sound that comes out of Yujin's mouth is loud and unguarded and completely involuntary, a full, open moan that she claps her hand over a second too late.

"Oh fuck," she whispers behind her fingers.

And you don't stop. You grab her hips and start fucking her from below, driving up into her with a pace that's fast and punishing and completely controlled. Every thrust is deep, the kind of deep that makes her stomach clench visibly, and you're not letting her set the rhythm anymore. She's riding you but you're the one in charge now, using your grip on her waist to pull her down onto every upstroke, meeting her body with a force that turns her controlled bouncing into something messy and desperate.

The transformation is immediate. Yujin's hands drop from her face to your chest for stability, her fingers splayed, her nails digging in. Her head falls forward, hair curtaining around her face, and the moans are coming freely now. Real moans. Loud, surprised, helpless moans that she couldn't stop if she tried. Her thighs are shaking against your sides, her abs are twitching, and the wet sounds between you have gotten louder, sloppier, more urgent.

"Oh my god," she breathes, and her hips jerk involuntarily. "How are you... what the fuck, how are you this..."

"This what?" you ask, not slowing down.

She grits her teeth, refusing to finish the sentence, but another deep thrust pulls a whine from her that answers the question anyway. Her back arches and she grinds down onto you, trying to find some control, some leverage, and you give it to her for exactly two seconds before slamming up into her again and watching her composure shatter.

You shift the angle slightly, tilting your hips, and on the next thrust you feel Yujin's entire body seize. Every muscle locks, her nails claw into your chest, and the moan that tears out of her throat is so raw and so loud that it makes Rei's eyebrows shoot up. You found the spot. You keep the angle and fuck into it relentlessly, steady and deep and unforgiving, and Yujin's composure doesn't just crack, it collapses.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chants, her head thrown back, her throat exposed, her body bouncing on you helplessly. She's not riding you anymore. She's holding on. "You're so fucking deep, oh my god, you're so fucking deep and hard and I can't..."

She catches herself. Bites down on her lower lip so hard it goes white. Straightens up and plants her hands on your stomach, trying to wrestle back control. Her hips start moving again, grinding in slow circles, and she looks down at you with an expression that's equal parts furious and aroused. "I'm not losing this bet," she says, and the tremble in her thighs says otherwise.

Rei rolls onto her side, propping her head up on one hand, watching Yujin bounce on your cock with the serene satisfaction of someone who already got hers. "You really don't look like someone who's winning, Yujin."

"If I don’t peg his ass," Yujin pants between thrusts, her thighs trembling around your hips, "I'm fucking yours."

"Mm, I don't think so." Rei stretches lazily, running her fingers along the damp sheets. "After daddy makes you cum, you're not going to have the strength to get out of this bed. Trust me. I speak from very recent experience."

Yujin grinds down on you, her jaw tight, sweat rolling down her neck into the valley between her breasts. She shakes her head, stubborn to the bone. "His dick isn't even that good. Very overrated. All this hype for a solid six out of ten at best."

You plant your feet and drive up into her so hard that her hands slip off your chest. Her eyes roll back, her whole body jolting, and the moan that comes out of her is guttural and helpless and completely involuntary. She catches herself with both palms flat on your stomach, fingers splayed, panting, and for a second she just stays there, impaled on you, her brain clearly buffering.

You look at Rei. "Give me some space." Rei scoots back immediately, pulling a pillow with her, settling in cross-legged near the foot of the bed with the eager posture of someone who just got front-row seats to the best show of her life. You turn your attention back to Yujin, who's still trying to reassemble her composure above you. "You sound a lot better moaning than you do talking all that bullshit."

"That's so fucking rude,” she grumbles. “You don't get to tell me when to talk and when to..."

You tighten your grip on her waist. Both hands, firm, fingers digging into the lean muscle of her hips. In one fluid motion, you lift her off your cock, shift your weight, and flip her onto her back on the mattress. The air leaves her lungs in a sharp gasp as her shoulders hit the sheets, her hair fanning out around her head, her legs falling open on either side of you. Before she can process the change in position, you're already between her thighs, one hand pressing her hip into the mattress, the other guiding your cock back inside her. You push in with a single, deep stroke that fills her completely, and Yujin's entire body arches off the bed.

"Oh, fuck—" Now you're on top. Now you're in control. And from the way Yujin's eyes have gone wide and glassy, she knows it too. You set a pace that's fast and hard and unrelenting, your hips slamming into hers with a force that shakes the headboard against the wall.

Each thrust drives deep, bottoming out, and the wet, obscene sound of your cock pounding into her fills the room alongside Yujin's increasingly desperate moaning. Her legs wrap around your waist instinctively, her heels digging into the small of your back, pulling you closer even as her hands push against your chest in a confused, contradictory bid for some kind of control she's already lost.

"You're such a fucking asshole," she spits, but her pussy is clenching around you so tight with every thrust that the insult loses all its teeth. "You absolute piece of shit, you think you're so fucking special because your dick is big and you can last a long time, you arrogant, smug, insufferable..."

"Keep going." You thrust harder, deeper, angling your hips to hit that same spot that made her fall apart earlier. "Every time you insult me, I just want to fuck you harder."

"You're the worst lay I've ever had." Another thrust. She chokes on a moan. "You have no technique. Zero finesse. You're just a rich boy with a big cock and no personality."

"That's a lot of talking for someone who's shaking."

"I'm not shaking." She's shaking. Her entire body is trembling beneath you, her thighs quivering against your ribs, her stomach muscles twitching every time you bottom out. The insults keep coming but they're getting shorter, more fragmented, punctuated by moans she can't swallow anymore.

You bring your right hand up and place it on her throat. Not squeezing. Not choking. Just resting there, your fingers curled around the column of her neck, your thumb against her pulse point, a firm, steady pressure that says everything without applying any real force.

Yujin's reaction is nuclear. Her eyes blow wide, her back arches so sharply that only her shoulders and hips are touching the mattress, and the sound that comes out of her mouth is raw and loud enough to make Rei flinch at the foot of the bed. Her hands fly up and grab your wrist, not to pull your hand away, but to hold it there. Her fingers wrap around your forearm and grip so hard you can feel her nails leaving crescents in your skin.

"Oh my god," she breathes, and her pussy clenches around you so hard your vision blurs for a second. "Oh my fucking god."

"Holy shit," Rei whispers from the foot of the bed. She's sitting forward, her eyes huge, her lips parted, her thighs pressed together. "That's so hot. That's so incredibly hot. Fuck her, daddy. Fuck her harder." You maintain the hand on Yujin's throat and pound into her, your hips relentless, each stroke driving so deep you can feel her cervix, feel the full length of you burying inside her again and again. Yujin's legs tighten around you, her heels locked behind your back, and she's pulling you into her on every thrust, her body working against her brain's protestations.

She's fighting it. You can see the battle playing out in real time on her face, the way she bites her lip, the way she squeezes her eyes shut, the way she tries to slow her own breathing. She's fighting the orgasm with everything she has, refusing to let it happen, refusing to lose. Her jaw is clenched so tight the muscles in her neck cord beneath your palm. "I'm not going to cum," she says through gritted teeth, but it comes out like a plea, not a statement. "I'm not. I refuse. I don't lose. I never lose."

"Cum on his cock, Yujin." Rei has crawled closer now, kneeling beside the two of you, her face flushed, her eyes bright with a wildness that wasn't there an hour ago. "Just let it go. It's going to be the best orgasm of your life. I promise."

"No." Yujin shakes her head against the pillow, her hair sticking to her face. "No, no, no, I'm not going to..." You hit the spot again. Hard. And hold there, grinding the head of your cock against that swollen ridge inside her while your thumb presses just slightly firmer against the side of her throat. Yujin's mouth opens. Her eyes go wide. Her hands fly from your wrist to the sheets, fisting the fabric.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck..." It pours out of her in a continuous, panicked stream, each repetition higher and more desperate than the last. Her hips are bucking up against you, meeting your thrusts with involuntary, frantic movements she's clearly not controlling anymore. The flush on her chest has spread to her face, her neck, her ears. "You're going to make me cum. Damn it. Damn it, you're going to make me cum."

"That's it," Rei breathes, leaning close to Yujin's ear, her hand finding Yujin's thigh and squeezing. "Cum for him. Make her cum, daddy. Fuck it out of her."

Yujin's body goes rigid beneath you. Every muscle locks. Her back arches, her thighs clamp around your waist like a vice, the orgasm hits her and her mouth opens in a scream that your hand on her throat compresses into a strangled, ragged moan, muffled but still audible, still raw, still the loudest thing in the room. You feel it around your cock, a violent, rhythmic clenching that squeezes you in waves, her entire body convulsing beneath you, her hips jerking against yours in uncontrollable spasms. Her eyes are squeezed shut and there are tears at the corners, not from pain, from intensity, from the sheer overwhelming force of what's ripping through her.

You release her throat.

The sound that erupts from Yujin is unholy. A full, unrestricted moan that tears itself from her chest and fills the room, followed immediately by a series of gasped, broken syllables that aren't really words anymore. Her hands fly to your arms, gripping your biceps, and her whole body starts shaking, genuine, full-body tremors that make the bed vibrate beneath you.

"You won." It comes out wrecked, barely intelligible. "Damn it. You won. Fuck. I can't take it anymore. Stop. I can't..."

But you don't stop. You keep the same pace, your cock driving into her still-spasming pussy, and the hypersensitivity hits her like a second wave. Her eyes snap open and they're unfocused, pupils blown, tears tracking down her temples into her hair. Her mouth moves but nothing coherent comes out for a few seconds, just gasps and whimpers and fragments of sounds.

"She can take it." Rei's kneeling beside Yujin with a grin on her face that borders on feral. "She's a slut. Keep going."

"No no no no, fuck, please." Yujin's head thrashes on the pillow, her nails dragging red lines down your arms. "Daddy, no. Please, daddy, stop. You're going to make me cum again if you keep going like this. I can't. My body can't. Please."

That's exactly what you want. You grab her thighs and push them wider, opening her up completely, and fuck into her with everything you have. Deep, hard, constant, targeting that same angle, that same spot, and Yujin's protests dissolve into a continuous, high-pitched moan that climbs in pitch with every thrust. Her hands grab at everything, your arms, the sheets, the pillow behind her head, the headboard. Her body is arching and writhing beneath you, completely out of her own control.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming, oh god I'm cumming again, I can't stop it, it's happe—”

The second orgasm slams into her harder than the first. Yujin screams, a real scream, sharp and loud and broken, and her body bows off the mattress. You feel a sudden rush of warmth around your cock, slick and hot and forceful, and then you see it. She's squirting. A hard, pulsing spray that soaks your stomach, your thighs, the sheets beneath her. It just keeps coming, her pussy clenching and releasing in violent contractions around your cock, each one pushing out another warm jet.

Rei's eyes go enormous. For exactly one second, she stares. Then she moves.

Her hand shoots between Yujin's legs and two fingers find Yujin's clit, exposed and swollen and drenched, and she starts rubbing. Fast. Hard. Aggressive circles with her fingertips pressed flat against the sensitive nub, and the effect is immediate and devastating. Yujin's squirting intensifies, the spray arcing higher, soaking Rei's wrist and forearm, splashing against your abs. Yujin's screams have gone silent, her mouth open, her body locked in a sustained convulsion, only her heels and shoulders touching the bed.

Rei giggles, bright and delighted, watching the chaos Yujin is making with the same breathless fascination as someone mesmerized by a burst of fireworks. "Look at all of that. Look at her go. She's making such a mess." Her fingers don't stop, rubbing Yujin's clit with a relentless enthusiasm that borders on cruel, and every pass of her fingertips draws another gush from Yujin's trembling body. "Come on, Yujin. Give us more. I know you've got more."

Yujin's hand grabs Rei's wrist weakly, trying to push her away, but there's no strength behind it. Her body is spent, wrung out, every muscle exhausted from the sustained intensity of two consecutive orgasms. She's making sounds that aren't moans or screams but something in between, small, broken, hitching gasps, her chest heaving, her stomach flexing with each aftershock.

You pull out. Slow, careful. And as your cock slides free, one last jet of clear fluid pulses from Yujin's swollen, flushed pussy, splashing against your thigh before trailing down between her legs and pooling on the already ruined sheets. Rei finally pulls her hand away, her fingers glistening, and wipes them on the sheet next to Yujin's hip with a casual nonchalance that makes you shake your head.

Yujin lies there. Breathing. Trembling. Her legs are still spread, too heavy to move, and her arms are limp at her sides. Her hair is a dark, tangled mess across the pillow. Her skin is flushed from her face to her navel, blotchy and pink and damp with sweat. Her eyes are closed and her lips are parted and her chest rises and falls in deep, unsteady rhythms that gradually, slowly, begin to even out.

You lean down and press your lips to her cheek. Soft. Unhurried. You can taste the salt of her sweat on her skin. "Looks like I won."

Yujin's arms come up and wrap around your neck. She pulls you down against her, tight, her face burying into the crook of your shoulder. She's holding you like someone who just survived something, her fingers gripping the back of your neck, her body still trembling in small aftershocks against yours. The embrace is fierce and needy and completely at odds with everything she's projected since she walked out of that elevator. You let her hold on. You settle your weight carefully, not crushing her, and let her take what she needs.

Rei tilts her head, watching the two of you with a soft, teasing smile. "Look at that. Daddy softened up the bratty girl."

"Shut up," Yujin mumbles into your shoulder, but there's no harshness in it. There's barely any volume.

You pull away slightly, just enough to meet her gaze. Her eyes are open now, softer, different - no more sharpness. Just a stunned, wide look, like she’s still trying to piece together what just happened. Her lips are swollen and her mascara has smudged slightly at the corners of her eyes and she looks completely, thoroughly, beautifully wrecked.

She grabs the back of your neck with one hand and pulls you down into a kiss. Not teasing, not competitive, not calculated. Hard. Deep. Her mouth opens against yours and she kisses you with a hunger that tastes like surrender, her tongue pressing against yours, her teeth catching your lower lip. Her other hand comes up to cup your jaw, holding you there, and when the kiss finally breaks she doesn't let you pull away. She keeps your face close, her forehead against yours, and brushes her nose against yours. Once. Twice. An almost unbearably tender gesture from someone who, five minutes ago, was calling you every name in the book.

A small, mischievous smile curls the corner of her mouth. Her thumb traces your jawline. "That was the best orgasm of my life," she murmurs, her breath warm against your lips. "Motherfucker. Congratulations."

Yujin turns her head on the pillow and looks at Rei, who's sprawled out on her stomach beside you both, chin resting on her folded arms, looking entirely too pleased with herself. Yujin narrows her eyes. "You were way too harsh on me back there. The little bird has claws."

Rei shrugs one shoulder, not even a little apologetic. "It was really fun. And you had it coming."

"I had it coming?"

"You called me a slut like four times today."

"That's because you are one. But fine." Yujin's mouth twitches. Something almost warm passes through her expression. "I'm proud of you. You were vicious. I respect vicious."

"Thank you. I learned from the best."

"Damn right you did."

You shift onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow. "So. I won."

Yujin groans and presses the pillow over her face. Her response comes out muffled through Egyptian cotton. "Yes. You won."

"Which means you owe me a date. Both of you."

She pulls the pillow down just enough to glare at you with one eye. "You're going to complicate my life so badly."

"That seems fair. You two showed up at my apartment unannounced, broke up with me on behalf of my fake girlfriend, threatened me with a lawsuit, and then fucked me. I think one dinner is a pretty mild complication by comparison."

Yujin lets the pillow drop and stares at the ceiling. She exhales slowly, her chest still rising and falling a little faster than normal, the flush on her skin only now beginning to fade. "If Wonyoung finds out, Rei and I are done. Not just fired. Done. She's not the forgive-and-forget type."

"She really isn't," Rei agrees, but her tone is remarkably casual for someone discussing career annihilation. She traces a pattern on the sheet with her fingertip.

"I know she isn't," you say. "Wonyoung's petty. Always has been. She wouldn't care that she dumped me. She'd care that you two are seeing me, because in her head, everything that was hers stays hers. Even the stuff she threw away."

Yujin looks over at you, a subtle flash of surprise in her eyes, as though hearing her own thoughts echoed back in a way she didn’t expect. "That's... exactly right, actually. She'd do so much worse than fire us."

"I know. But she's not going to find out anytime soon. And if she does, I'll handle it. That's my problem, not yours." You hold her gaze. "I've dealt with petty rich people my entire life. I come from a family of them. I know how the game works."

Yujin chews the inside of her cheek, considering. She turns to Rei. "What do you think?"

"Yes!" Rei says instantly.

"Girl, I hadn't even finished the question."

"You were going to ask if we should go on the date. The answer is yes. I don't need to think about it."

Yujin squints at her. "Fifteen minutes ago you were a nervous intern who couldn't open the right briefcase. Now you're making life-altering decisions in half a second?"

"I've had a productive afternoon." Rei rolls onto her side to face both of you, tucking one arm under her head. "I thought I admired Wonyoung. Before I started working with her, I really did. She was this incredible, untouchable person and I wanted to be around that." She pauses, picking at a loose thread on the pillowcase. "Then I actually started working with her, and I saw how she treats people behind closed doors. The way she talks about them. The way she throws them away when they stop being useful." Her eyes drift to yours briefly. "My admiration kind of eroded after that."

The room sits with that for a second. Nobody fills the silence.

"Okay." Yujin pushes herself up on her elbows. "One date. Just one. To see how it goes." She points at you with a finger that still isn't entirely steady. "Don't get your hopes up. I just need to add some variety to my life. Everything's been work, Wonyoung, work, Wonyoung, repeat. A girl needs some seasoning."

"Noted. No hopes. Very low expectations."

"Extremely low. Rock bottom. Subterranean."

"Got it."

Yujin shifts her weight and her hand drifts down between you. Her fingers find your cock, still hard, still flushed and thick against your stomach, and she wraps around it loosely. She gives it a slow, lazy stroke, and then stops. She looks down at it. She looks up at you. "You didn't cum."

"Nope."

"How." It's not a question. It's an accusation. She strokes you again, slow, her thumb circling the head, and watches your cock twitch against her palm. "No guy has ever lasted through me riding them. I've broken every man I've been with. Every single one. And you just... sat there and flipped me over and kept going."

"I've always had good stamina." You fold your arms behind your head, casual, even though her hand on your cock is making it hard to project total nonchalance. "I can get pretty competitive sometimes. Especially when someone threatens to peg me."

Yujin's teeth catch her lower lip. She's trying not to smile and failing at it, a slow, reluctant grin spreading across her face that she absolutely cannot contain. Her hand keeps stroking you, absentminded, her fingers exploring your length and girth like she's cataloguing it for future reference. "I like that," she admits. "I like a guy who doesn't fold."

Rei yawns and stretches, her back arching, her body unfurling against the sheets. The movement is lazy but it draws your attention to every curve, every line, the fullness of her thighs, the soft weight of her breasts shifting as she moves. She catches you looking and doesn't shy away from it this time. "Anyway," Rei says, rolling her neck. "This is all very sweet, but I'm still really horny."

Yujin releases your cock and rolls her eyes so hard her whole head moves. "She's insatiable. One orgasm and she turns into a monster."

"Your fault. You brought me here."

"Fine. Since you're so worked up, go ahead and let him fuck your ass then."

Rei pauses. Looks at you. Looks at Yujin. takes one brief, unashamed look down and shrugs. "Okay."

You sit up slightly. "Hold on. I thought anal was too kinky and filthy. Your exact words."

"I changed my mind." Rei says this with the serene conviction of someone announcing they've decided to try a new restaurant. "A girl can change her mind."

Yujin barks out a laugh. "Please. She's always liked anal. The whole innocent act was bullshit. I knew it the second she said it." She gestures at Rei like a prosecutor presenting evidence. "Look at her. That angelic face. Those big brown eyes. That thick ass." She shakes her head. "Anyone with a functioning brain can see that girl loves a cock in her ass. It's practically tattooed on her forehead."

Rei blinks, and for the first time, she looks genuinely caught off guard. "Is it that obvious? Can people actually tell?"

"Rei. Babe. Everyone who has ever looked at you knows immediately."

"Everyone?"

"It's the combination. The sweet princess face and the body that won't quit. It broadcasts a very specific frequency." Yujin swings her legs off the bed and stands, still naked, still glistening faintly with sweat. "I'm getting the lube from the briefcase. Don't start without me."

She pads out of the bedroom on bare feet, moving with the easy confidence of someone who's entirely comfortable being naked in a stranger's penthouse. The view from behind is excellent. Her ass, round, full, juicy and still faintly pink where the sheets creased against her skin, disappears around the corner.

The second Yujin is out of earshot, Rei scoots closer to you. She puts a hand on your chest and leans in, her lips near your ear, she murmurs: "She called you daddy."

You look at her. "I caught that."

"While you were fucking her. Multiple times." Rei pulls back and grins at you, her nose scrunching. "She was begging. Actual begging. 'Daddy please, daddy no, daddy stop.' She's going to pretend it didn't happen."

"Probably."

"She likes to act all tough and unbothered, like nothing gets to her. But she loves being put in her place. She needs it." Rei taps your chest once with her index finger. "She's been waiting for a guy who wouldn't buckle. Every other guy she's been with folded the second she started pushing. You pushed back harder. That broke her brain."

"You figured all that out in one afternoon?"

"I'm observant." Rei smiles, and there's nothing shy about it anymore. "Also, she talks in her sleep during naps at the office. Very revealing stuff."

You hear Yujin's footsteps coming back down the hall. Rei immediately scoots to a respectable distance and adopts an expression of pure, guileless innocence. The transformation is so seamless it's almost frightening. Yujin rounds the corner holding a bottle of high-end lubricant. She tosses it onto the bed, where it bounces once and lands between Rei's knees. Her gaze flicks between the two of you, eyes narrowing.

"You were talking about me."

"We absolutely were not," Rei says, and she sounds so sincere that even you almost believe her.

Yujin stares at her for two full seconds, then decides she doesn't care enough to pursue it. She climbs back onto the bed and grabs Rei's shoulder, spinning her around. "All fours, little bird. Show's about to start."

Rei catches your eye one more time as she moves into position, and the look she gives you is quick and private and full of mischief. Then she turns, plants her hands on the mattress, and arches her back. Yujin pops the cap on the lube with her thumb. She squeezes a generous amount directly onto Rei's ass, a thick, clear line that drips between her cheeks, and then another dollop onto her own palm. She rubs her hands together, warming it up.

"This one heats up," Yujin says, spreading the lube across Rei's skin with slow strokes. Her fingers glide over the curve of Rei's ass, working the slick between her cheeks, coating everything thoroughly. "High-end stuff. Wonyoung's company card paid for it, so you know it's premium."

Rei shivers. Her back dips and her fingers curl into the sheets. "That feels really good. The warming thing is nice."

"Of course it does. You love being pampered." Yujin's thumb traces a slow circle around Rei's tight hole, spreading the lube, not pushing in yet. Just getting her used to the contact. "And your absolute favorite pampering is a thick cock in your ass. Isn't that right?"

Rei presses her face into the mattress and says nothing, which is an answer in itself. You lean back against the headboard, watching Yujin work. Her fingers are careful, attentive, making sure every inch is slick and warm. It's the kind of consideration that comes from actually giving a shit about someone, not from following a job description. "You don't seem like Wonyoung's biggest fan," you say.

Yujin doesn't look up from what she's doing. "Wonyoung is my boss. I do what she tells me to do. End of story."

"I don't know. Seems like there's more to it."

Her fingers pause on Rei's skin for just a fraction of a second. "Who are you, Sherlock Holmes?" She resumes, her thumb pressing gently against Rei's rim, applying just enough pressure to tease without entering. "Put the magnifying glass away."

"Just making conversation."

Yujin stays quiet for a few seconds. The only sounds are Rei's soft breathing and the wet, slick noise of lube being worked into skin. Then, without prompting, Yujin says, "We used to be closer. Me and Wonyoung. It wasn't always a boss-and-employee thing. There was more to it than that."

You wait. Don't push.

"If you're going to ask what happened, don't bother. Better question is what didn't happen." She squeezes more lube onto her fingers and slides one fingertip just barely inside Rei, who exhales slowly and pushes back against the intrusion. "I don't like talking about it. It's boring and depressing and I've spent enough energy on that woman for one lifetime."

The subject closes itself. You let it go. Yujin works her finger deeper into Rei with a patience that borders on surgical, rotating slowly, letting her adjust, and Rei's breathing gradually shifts from tense to steady to something that sounds a lot like enjoyment. She's rocking her hips back in small, barely-there movements, instinctive, chasing the feeling.

After a moment, Yujin speaks again. Quieter this time, her eyes still on her own hand. "Did you mean what you said earlier?"

"About what?"

"That I'm prettier than Wonyoung."

There it is. Past all the attitude, the sarcasm, the Theatrical indifference - this. A question she couldn't bury, surfacing again the moment she convinced herself enough time had gone by to make it seem offhand. "Yeah. I meant it."

"Why, though?" She adds a second finger alongside the first, scissoring gently, stretching Rei open. Rei whimpers into the mattress, her toes curling. "Wonyoung is one of the most beautiful women on the planet. That's not even an opinion. There are rankings."

“Rankings are bullshit.” You keep your eyes on her. “There’s something in your eyes, Yujin. The way you look at people, the way you talk, even when you’re being a pain in the ass. There’s a spark there. You feel… I don't know, alive? Present?” You pause, choosing your words. “Wonyoung’s stunning, yeah, but she’s like a photograph. Perfect, but still. You’re not. You’re always moving. That’s why it’s so hard to look away from you.”

Yujin's hand goes still inside Rei. For a couple of seconds she just stares at you, and something passes across her face that she doesn't manage to hide in time. Her throat bobs with a swallow. Then she blinks, resets, and the classic Yujin is back, smooth as ever. "Jesus Christ." She looks away, her mouth twitching. "You could've just said I'm hotter than her. You didn't need to write a whole TED Talk about my eyes."

"That too. You're way hotter than her."

"Obviously." She pulls her fingers out of Rei and wipes them on the sheet. The flush on her cheeks has nothing to do with exertion. She slaps Rei's ass with a crisp, ringing smack that makes Rei yelp. "She's ready. All warmed up and stretched. Now all that's missing is your dick."

Yujin turns to you, grabs your cock, and squeezes the bottle directly onto the shaft. The lube is warm, almost hot, and it runs down your length in thick rivulets. She strokes you with both hands, one twisting at the base while the other slides up and over the head, spreading the slickness everywhere, making sure every inch is coated. "You're not small," she says, matter-of-fact, her fist gliding up your lubed shaft. "So go slow or you'll break her."

"I'm right here," Rei says from all fours, looking back over her shoulder. "And I'm not fragile."

"Your ass is about to have a very different opinion on that."

Yujin gives your cock one final stroke, root to tip, and releases it. She wipes her hands on the sheets, already ruined beyond salvation, and scoots to the side, settling into a cross-legged position near the pillows with a clear sightline to the action. Supervising.

You move behind Rei. She's on her hands and knees, her back arched, her ass pushed up and out toward you. The lube is everywhere, glossy and warm, catching the light from the windows. Her hole is slick and relaxed from Yujin's prep work, pink and tight and glistening. You run one hand up the back of her thigh, over the swell of her ass, and she pushes back against your touch, eager.

You grip the base of your cock and press the head against her. The contact alone makes her tense, a reflexive clench that tightens everything, and you hold still. Just the tip against her, not pushing, letting the warmth of the lube and the pressure do the work.

"I'm going to start. Tell me if you need me to stop."

Rei nods. Her fingers are bunched in the sheets, her head hanging between her shoulders. "Go ahead."

You push forward. Gentle. Steady. The head of your cock presses against her ring and meets resistance, firm and tight, her body instinctively clenching against the intrusion. You hold the pressure, not forcing, just a constant forward push, and after a few seconds you feel her start to relax. The muscle yields, slowly, incrementally, and the head slips inside.

Rei sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth. Her back goes rigid and her knuckles go white in the sheets. She's impossibly tight around you, her ass gripping the head of your cock with a pressure that's almost painful, hot and slick from the lube but so constricting it takes genuine effort not to just shove forward.

"Breathe," Yujin says from her perch near the pillows. She's watching with her head tilted, clinical and attentive. "Don't tense up. Push out, not in. Let him in."

Rei exhales slowly. You feel the shift, a conscious relaxation that eases the grip around you just enough to move. You push another inch inside her and Rei's mouth falls open, a long, shaky exhale escaping her.

"How's it feel?" Yujin asks.

"Big," Rei manages. "Really, really big."

"I told you." Yujin looks at you. "Slower."

You give Rei a moment. Your hands rest on her hips, thumbs tracing small circles on her skin, grounding her. When you feel her body soften again, you push deeper. Another inch. The lube does its job, the warming sensation easing the slide, and Rei groans low in her throat. It's a sound of fullness, of being stretched in a way that walks the tightrope between too much and exactly enough.

"That's it," Yujin murmurs. "Keep going. You're doing great, little bird."

Another inch. You're halfway in now, and the tightness is unreal. Nothing like her pussy. This is a different kind of grip entirely, relentless and uniform, squeezing every millimeter of your cock with equal, crushing pressure. The heat is staggering. Rei's thighs are quivering, her breathing short and fast, and every tiny movement you make sends a visible tremor through her body.

"More," Rei whispers. "Keep going." You push deeper. So slow it's almost painful for you, the urge to thrust fighting against every ounce of restraint you have. The lube squelches obscenely as you slide further in, and Rei lets out a broken, stuttering moan that builds in volume the deeper you go. Her ass is swallowing you inch by inch, her body opening for you, and the visual alone, your thick, glistening cock disappearing into her tight little hole, her round ass pressed against your hips, is enough to make your pulse hammer in your ears.

"Almost there," Yujin narrates, leaning to the side to get a better angle. "About two inches left. She's taking it like a champ."

"I can feel every single inch of him," Rei says, and her tone is dazed, almost drunk. "Every ridge. Everything."

You push the last two inches in slowly, steadily, until your hips press flush against her ass. All of you. Every inch buried inside her. Rei's body shudders beneath you and she lets out a sound that's half gasp, half sob, her face dropping to the mattress, her fingers twisted in the sheets so hard the fitted corner pops off.

"There you go," Yujin says. "All of it. How do you feel?"

Rei doesn't answer right away. She's breathing in short, shallow bursts, her body adjusting to the fullness, the stretch, the sheer overwhelming presence of your cock lodged deep in her ass. You hold completely still, giving her time, and you can feel her pulse throbbing around you, fast and heavy.

Then she lifts her head. Turns to look at you over her shoulder and says: "I'm ready, daddy." Her hips push back against you, taking you deeper, and the moan that leaves her mouth is filthy and absolutely nothing like the girl who asked for a Coke two hours ago. "Please fuck your good girl's ass."

You pull back. Feel every inch of her gripping you as you slide out until just the head remains inside, her rim stretched tight around the thickest part of you. Then you push forward again, steady, controlled, and Rei's whole body sinks into the mattress as you fill her. Her fingers claw the sheets and a long, trembling moan pours out of her, muffled against the pillow, a sound that starts in the gut and doesn't stop until there's no air left.

She's perfect on all fours. Back arched deep, ass pushed up and round and full, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and sticking to the sweat on her skin. Every slow thrust makes her body rock forward, her breasts swaying beneath her, her thighs trembling with the effort of holding position. The lube has made everything slick and warm and the friction is sinful, that impossible tightness squeezing you on every stroke, hot and constant and so good your jaw aches from clenching it. "Deeper," Rei breathes. Her hips push back against you, greedy, impatient. "Go deeper. I want all of it."

You give her all of it. Bottom out with a slow grind that makes her toes curl and her spine flex. She lets out a choked, guttural sound and her arms give out, her chest dropping to the mattress, face turned sideways, mouth open. "Fuck, your cock is so good in my ass," she moans, pushing back onto you, taking you deeper even though there's nowhere deeper to go. "It's so thick. I can feel you stretching me open. Every single inch."

Yujin is sitting cross-legged beside the two of you, close enough to touch, her chin propped on her fist. She's watching Rei with an expression that's somewhere between a proud older sister and a director reviewing her best actress's career-defining performance. Her eyes are bright, engaged, drinking in every moan and tremble with obvious relish.

"Look at you, little bird." Yujin reaches over and traces a single finger down Rei's spine, from the nape of her neck to the small of her back, and Rei arches into the touch. "All that 'it's too kinky and filthy' bullshit. Too kinky for her. Can't do anal. Absolutely not." She laughs. "And now you've got a fat cock balls deep in your ass and you're begging for more. You're a natural."

"I am," Rei pants, and there's zero irony in it. "I'm a natural. I love it. I love his cock in my ass."

"Tell him that. Don't tell me. Look at him and tell him how much you love it."

Rei cranes her neck to look back at you over her shoulder. Her lips are swollen, parted and there's a strand of saliva connecting her lower lip to the pillow. She looks absolutely ruined. "I love your cock in my ass, daddy." She pushes back against you again, a slow, rolling grind that takes you deeper. "Please don't stop. Please keep fucking me."

You grip her hips tighter and pick up the pace. Not fast yet, but firmer, more rhythmic, each thrust landing with a slap of skin that punctuates the wet, obscene sounds between you. Rei drops her head and moans into the mattress, long and loud and completely uninhibited, and her hands slide forward on the sheets, reaching for something to hold onto, finding nothing, her fingers just clawing at empty fabric. "Harder," she begs. "I can take it. I promise I can take it."

You give her harder. The pace builds gradually, your hips snapping forward with more force, more speed, and Rei starts making sounds you didn't know she was capable of. Deep, throaty moans that break into whimpers at the peak of each thrust, her body jolting forward with every impact, her ass rippling where your hips collide with it. The lube is doing its job beautifully, everything warm and slick, and the tightness of her ass around your cock is relentless, gripping you from every angle, so snug it's almost unbearable.

"Oh my god," Rei gasps, her fingers twisted in the sheets, pulling them off the corner of the mattress. "Oh my god, oh my god, I can't believe Wonyoung never tried this. She had this the whole time. She had this cock and she never even let you fuck her. She never even let you inside her."

"Wonyoung is a fucking loser," Yujin says, casual and absolute. She shifts closer to Rei, settling onto her knees beside her. "The biggest loser in this whole city. She had a man who could make two girls fall apart in one afternoon and she used him for photo ops."

Yujin brings her hand down on Rei's right ass cheek with a clean, sharp smack that echoes through the bedroom. Rei's whole body clenches, her ass squeezing your cock so hard you have to grit your teeth, and the moan she lets out is wild and broken and grateful.

"Say it," Yujin tells her. She leans close to Rei's ear, her hand resting on the reddening handprint she just left. "Say Wonyoung is a loser. A stupid rich girl playing pretend. Say it, little bird." Another smack, harder than the first. Rei's back arches violently and her hips jerk back onto your cock, taking you deep, her body spasming around you.

"Wonyoung is a loser," Rei moans, her face pressed into the sheets, drool pooling on the cotton. "She's a stupid rich girl who throws people away. She doesn't deserve him. She never deserved him."

Yujin's hand smooths over the red mark on Rei's skin, soothing, possessive. "Good girl. That's my girl." Her fingers trail down between Rei's cheeks, brushing the stretched rim where your cock is splitting her open, feeling the slick junction of the two of you. Rei whimpers at the added touch, pushing back against both of you. "Now say you're hotter than her. Say you're better. Say Wonyoung could never give a blowjob like you gave today. That prissy bitch wouldn't even know where to start."

You thrust harder into Rei, punching deep, and the sound that rips out of her is raw and savage and nothing a polite girl would ever produce.

"I'm hotter than Wonyoung!" Rei practically shouts it into the mattress, her hips bucking back against you. "I'm so much fucking hotter than her. She could never suck a dick like I do. She could never take a cock in her ass like I do. She'd tap out in thirty seconds. She doesn't have the range." Her head lifts, hair falling in sweaty tangles around her face, and her eyes are wild. "And I give better head. Way better. She probably just lies there like a starfish. I bet she's never even made a guy cum with her mouth. I could make him cum three times before she even figured out what to do with her tongue."

Yujin's face lights up with pure, unadulterated glee. She grabs Rei's chin and angles her face upward, looking into those blown-out, frenzied brown eyes. "That's my fucking girl. Don't you dare stop. You hear me?" She slaps Rei's ass again, a stinging crack that makes Rei's whole body seize. "Fuck that cock. I want to see your ass moving. Show daddy what you can do."

Rei plants her palms on the mattress and starts rocking back onto you. Hard. Aggressive. Her hips snap backward, her ass slamming against your pelvis with a force that catches you off guard, impaling herself on your cock with a desperate, single-minded hunger. She's not just taking it anymore. She's fucking herself on you, driving back into every thrust you give, meeting you in the middle, and the combined force of both of you sends shockwaves through her entire body. Her ass bounces against your hips, round and full and glistening with sweat and lube, and the wet, filthy slap of impact fills the room in a constant, accelerating rhythm.

"That's it," Yujin breathes, her eyes locked on where your cock is disappearing into Rei's ass over and over. "That's fucking it. Look at her go. She's a goddamn machine."

"Don't stop, daddy," Rei pants, slamming herself back onto you. "Fuck my ass. Use me. Use my tight little ass. It's yours. Everything is yours." You grab her hips and start meeting her pace with your own, thrusting forward hard every time she pushes back, doubling the impact. The collision of your bodies is brutal, wet, loud and Rei screams into the mattress, a sustained, guttural wail that breaks into stuttered gasps with each thrust. Her ass is clenching around you in frantic, involuntary pulses, so tight you can barely pull out before slamming back in.

"Harder," Yujin commands, and she's talking to both of you. Her hand comes down on Rei's ass again, a rapid series of slaps, one two three, each one drawing a sharp cry from Rei. "I want her stupid. I want her drooling. Fuck her brains out."

You grab a fistful of Rei's hair and pull her head up off the mattress, and what you see confirms that Yujin's already gotten her wish. Rei's face is a wreck. Her mascara has smeared into dark streaks beneath her eyes. Saliva trails from her lower lip to the pillow in a thin, glistening string. Her jaw is hanging open, slack, her tongue half out, her eyes rolling and unfocused. She's trying to say something but the only thing coming out is garbled, fragmented nonsense punctuated by moans that sound barely human.

"More," she manages, and even that single syllable comes out slurred and broken. "More more more more more."

"She's gone," Yujin says, and there's a kind of awe in her expression. "Her brain is completely fried. Look at her. She's drooling on your thousand-dollar pillowcase." She cups Rei's face in both hands, tilting it toward her, examining the damage with a grin that's equal parts cruel and affectionate. "Hey. Rei. What's your name? What year is it? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Rei blinks at her, unfocused. A string of drool stretches from her lip. "Fuck me," she whispers. "Just keep fucking me."

"That's not an answer to any of my questions, but I respect the commitment."

You increase the pressure. Each thrust is deep and hard and unrelenting, your cock driving into her ass with a force that pushes her entire body forward on the mattress, her knees sliding on the sweat-damp sheets. You pull her hips back onto you every time she slides away, keeping her pinned, keeping her full, and Rei has stopped trying to form coherent thoughts entirely. She's just noise now, raw and animal, her body shaking and clenching and trembling beneath you. You can feel it building in her. The way her muscles are tightening, the way her thighs are quaking uncontrollably, the way her ass is gripping you in rhythmic, desperate spasms that are getting shorter and faster and more intense. She's close. Her whole body is a coiled spring about to snap, every nerve ending firing, every muscle tensed to the breaking point.

Her fingers are white-knuckled in the sheets, her toes curled, her back locked in a rigid arch that presses her ass up against you as hard as her body can manage. The moans have gone high and thin and continuous, a keening sound that wavers with each thrust, building and building toward something massive. Yujin sees it too. She's leaning close, one hand still on Rei's face, the other resting on the small of Rei's back, feeling the tremors running through her. Her own breathing has quickened, her nipples hard, her thighs pressed together. She strokes Rei's hair, almost tender, and watches her unravel with hungry, fascinated eyes.

"She's about to blow," Yujin murmurs, looking up at you over Rei's quaking body. "Whatever you're doing, don't you dare stop."

Your hips keep their rhythm, steady and deep, your cock driving into Rei's ass with a force that shakes her entire body. Your balls swing forward with every thrust, slapping against her soaked pussy. Rei's face is buried in the mattress, her fingers twisted in the ruined sheets, her entire body trembling with a vibration that's getting worse, tighter, closer.

"I'm gonna cum," Rei chokes out, and her back arches so deep her stomach nearly touches the bed. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum like this. From my ass. I'm gonna cum from your cock in my ass, daddy."

"Cum for daddy." You grip her hips and drive deep, holding there, grinding against that spot deep inside her that makes her whole body clench and spasm. "Let go. Give it to me."

Yujin leans in close to Rei's face, her hand on the back of Rei's neck, fingers threaded through damp, tangled hair. "He said cum, little bird. You heard him. You're his good girl. You deserve this." She strokes Rei's cheek with her thumb, almost maternal, while her other hand reaches under Rei and finds her clit, swollen and slick, and presses down. "Cum for your daddy. He earned it. You earned it."

You pull back and slam forward, burying yourself to the hilt, and Rei's scream is instant and raw. You don't stop. You keep that depth, that angle, fucking into her with short, punishing strokes that never let the pressure drop, your balls slapping against her drenched pussy with every impact. Rei's thighs are shaking so violently her knees are sliding apart on the sheets, and Yujin's fingers on her clit are relentless, rubbing in tight, fast circles that make Rei's whole body jolt and twitch.

"I can't, I can't, I can't," Rei babbles, but her hips are pushing back against you harder than ever, her body chasing what her mouth is trying to deny. "It's too much, it's too much, I'm gonna—"

The orgasm tears through her hard. You feel it before you hear it, her ass clamping down on your cock with a crushing, rhythmic pressure that squeezes you in violent waves. Then the sound hits, a scream that starts in her chest and rips its way out of her throat, high and sharp and sustained, her entire body locking up beneath you.

Her back goes rigid, her toes curl so hard her feet cramp. She convulses against you, her hips bucking in frantic, involuntary jerks, and you feel a rush of wetness flood against your balls as her pussy clenches in sympathy, her whole body detonating at once.

"Yeah, cum," Yujin breathes, her fingers still working Rei's clit through the orgasm, extending it, dragging it out. "Cum like the little slut you are. That's it. All of it. Every fucking drop."

Rei's scream breaks into a series of sobbing, gasping moans, each one weaker than the last, her body shuddering through wave after wave of contractions that you can feel rippling along every inch of your cock. Her arms collapse and she goes flat against the mattress, twitching, her fingers opening and closing on nothing.

You slow down. Pull back, inch by inch, letting her feel every ridge of you as you slide out. Her swollen rim clings to you, stretched and pink and glistening, and when the head finally slips free, Rei's body sags into the mattress with a full-body shudder that runs from her shoulders to her toes.

Rei rolls over onto her back, and the sight of her is extraordinary. Her face is flushed scarlet, her makeup destroyed, mascara streaked in dark smears beneath both eyes. There's drool on her chin, trailing down her neck, and her lips are swollen and parted and curved into the stupidest, most blissed-out smile you have ever seen on a human being.

"This is the best day of my life," she mumbles. "Nothing will ever top this. I peaked. It's all downhill from here."

Yujin leans over her friend's wrecked face and licks a stripe up her chin, collecting the drool on her tongue and swallowing it without a shred of hesitation. Then she cups Rei's face in both hands and peppers her with quick, firm kisses, lips pressing against her cheeks, her forehead, the bridge of her nose, the corner of her mouth.

"You were incredible, babe,” Yujin says between pecks, and there's no sarcasm in it. None. Just genuine, unfiltered pride. "That was beautiful, Rei. You took it so well. You're amazing." Another kiss, on the lips this time, lingering. "My little bird."

Rei's stupid grin gets even stupider. "Thank you, Yujin… Thank you, daddy."

You lean down and brush a strand of sweat-damp hair off her forehead. "Don't thank me. That was all you. You were amazing."

Rei hums contentedly, her eyes drifting shut for a moment, basking. Yujin's gaze drops to your cock. Still hard. Still slick and flushed and thick, jutting up from your hips with an insistence that borders on unreasonable. She stares at it. "You still haven't cum."

"Nope."

"How is that physically possible? You just fucked her ass for..." She trails off, trying to calculate the timeline, and gives up. "A long time. You fucked both of us. Multiple orgasms. Squirting. Anal. And you're still hard."

"Girls cum first. That's always been my rule. I like making sure they're taken care of before I worry about myself."

Yujin's lips part slightly. "That's... actually really hot. You keep surprising me. I came here today expecting some spoiled rich kid who couldn't find the clit with a map and a flashlight. You're nothing like what I expected."

"Good surprises?" You ask.

"Really good surprises. Now wait here, both of you. Don't move."

Yujin climbs off the bed and walks out of the bedroom. You watch her lean figure disappear around the corner with her stride purposeful and quick.

Rei lifts her head. "Where's she going?"

No answer. Just the sound of the briefcase clicking open in the living room. Rei lets her head fall back against the mattress and turns to look at you. That loopy grin is still plastered across her ruined face. "I'm excited for the date," she says softly. "I already know what I'm going to wear. I have this dress that I bought months ago and never had a reason to put on."

"Yeah?"

"It's dark green. It makes my eyes look good." She rolls onto her side, facing you, tucking her hands under her cheek. "Yujin's going to pretend she doesn't care. She's probably going to complain the whole time about how we're being reckless and how it's a terrible idea. But she's excited too."

"You think so?"

"I know so. The way she looks at you." Rei pauses, searching for the right way to say it. "She found somebody who can actually keep up with her. Someone she can't bulldoze. She's been running over every guy she's ever been with, and she's bored of it. You pushed back. You didn't fold." She smiles. "She'll never tell you this, by the way. If you mention I said any of it, I'll deny everything."

Footsteps in the hallway. Yujin rounds the corner and walks back into the bedroom, and between her legs, strapped snug against her hips with black leather harnesses, is a silicone cock. It's not comically large but it's not modest either, a smooth, dark-colored shaft that bobs slightly with each confident step she takes.

Rei pushes herself up on her elbows. Her eyes go wide. "Oh. Holy shit."

Yujin stands at the foot of the bed, hands on her hips, looking like a general surveying a battlefield. "Time for the fatality." She slaps the strap-on once, letting it bounce. "Today is a day you are never going to forget, little bird."

"It's already extremely memorable, Yujin. I've already had two orgasms."

"This is just to make absolutely sure." Yujin climbs onto the bed, the strap-on jutting forward, and kneels behind where Rei is lying. "You need to cum with two dicks in your holes. Full completion. Hundred percent achievement unlocked."

Rei sits up, her expression oscillating between terror and excitement with a healthy dose of horny delirium mixed in. "You're going to kill me."

"You're going to die happy. And when it's all over, you can have an ice-cold Coke. Straight from the fridge. That's your reward."

Rei looks at Yujin. Then at you. Then at the strap-on. Then at your cock. She chews her lower lip, and something sparks behind those big brown eyes, something calculating and mischievous that looks remarkably like a trait she picked up from Yujin. "Fine," she says. "I'll do it."

Yujin nods, satisfied. "Good girl."

"But." Rei holds up one finger. "Only if we spend the night here."

"You've lost your mind," Yujin says flatly.

"We stay here tonight. Both of us. We leave tomorrow morning." Rei crosses her arms over her bare chest, and despite the fact that she's naked and covered in sweat and her makeup looks like a Rorschach test, she projects a surprising amount of authority. "Those are my terms."

"That's insane. We need to go back. We have schedules. We have obligations. Wonyoung's expecting a debrief."

"Wonyoung can wait until tomorrow. The debrief isn't going anywhere."

"I can make dinner for everyone," you offer. "I'm a good cook."

Yujin's head swivels toward you. "Of course you're loving this idea."

"I make a really good pasta. From scratch."

"Nobody asked about your fucking pasta!" Yujin exclaims.

Rei tilts her head at Yujin. "You want to stay. I can see it on your face."

"You can't see anything on my face."

"Your left eye twitches when you want to say yes but your pride won't let you. It's twitching right now."

Yujin slaps a hand over her left eye. Holds it there for a second. Drops it. Takes a breath that contains the weight of every professional boundary she's crossed today, which is all of them.

"Okay! Fuck it!" She throws both hands up. "The plan's already gone to hell. Everything's gone completely off the rails. We've violated about thirty company policies. Who cares anymore." She points at Rei. "Fine. We sleep here tonight. But I am going to make you regret this idea later. That's a promise." Rei beams. "Wipe that grin off your face and get on top of him."

Rei climbs over you and settles on your hips, straddling you. She looks back over her shoulder at Yujin, who's kneeling behind her, adjusting the straps on the harness. That victorious, shit-eating smile is still spread across Rei's face like she just won the lottery and the Nobel Prize on the same day.

Yujin meets her eyes and smiles back. It's not a warm smile. "I'm going to fuck that grin right off your face tonight, little bird. Enjoy it while it lasts."

You reach down and take your cock in hand, lining the head up with Rei's pussy. She's still soaked, swollen and sensitive, and when the tip presses against her entrance she shudders visibly, her thighs clenching around your hips. Behind her, Yujin squeezes a fresh line of lube along the strap-on and presses it against Rei's ass, the tip nudging her already stretched, tender hole.

"Ready?" Yujin asks, one hand on Rei's hip, the other guiding the silicone cock. Rei nods. Her hands are flat on your chest, her fingers spread, steadying herself. She takes a breath.

You push up. Yujin pushes forward. Simultaneously. Rei's mouth falls open but nothing comes out. Her eyes roll back, the brown disappearing behind her lids, and her entire body goes taut, every muscle locking as both holes are filled at once. Your cock sinks into her pussy, hot and tight and clenching, and you can feel the strap-on through the thin wall separating her holes, the hard ridge of silicone pressing against your shaft through her body. The fullness must be staggering. Rei's fingers curl against your chest, her nails biting into your skin, and a thin, reedy whine escapes her throat.

Yujin pushes deeper, slow and steady, one hand on the small of Rei's back. "Breathe, little bird. Open up for us."

You sink in further. So does Yujin. Inch by inch, together, filling Rei from both sides until your hips are flush against her ass and Yujin's thighs are pressed against the back of hers. Both of you completely inside her. The tightness is absurd, her pussy squeezed even tighter by the presence of the strap-on in her ass, gripping your cock with a pressure that makes your stomach clench.

Rei is frozen above you. Trembling. Her eyes are still rolled back and her mouth is open in a silent oval. She's not breathing. You put a hand on her cheek and she blinks, focuses, sucks in a ragged gasp of air like she just surfaced from underwater. "There you go," you murmur. "Breathe. We've got you."

Yujin leans forward, pressing her chest against Rei's back, and wraps an arm around her waist. "You're doing so well. Just relax. We'll go slow."

The three of you hold there, connected, waiting. Rei's breathing gradually steadies. The trembling doesn't stop but it changes, shifting from shock to anticipation. Her pussy clenches around you in slow pulses, testing, adjusting, getting used to the impossible fullness of being stuffed in both holes at once.

"Okay." Her hips shift, just barely, a tiny experimental rock that makes all three of you feel it. "You can start. Just... go slow." She exhales shakily. "I really hope I survive this."

You start to move first. A slow, shallow thrust upward into Rei's pussy, feeling the tight, slick grip of her around your cock, made even tighter by the strap-on filling her from behind. A second later, Yujin follows, pulling her hips back and pushing the silicone cock forward into Rei's ass with a careful, exploratory rhythm that's clearly out of practice.

"It's been a minute since I've done this," Yujin admits, adjusting her grip on Rei's hips, finding her angle. "I'm relearning the choreography. Bear with me."

Rei is between you, suspended, her chest against yours, her face buried in the crook of your neck. Every movement from either direction makes her entire body shudder. Her fingers are digging into your shoulders so hard you're going to have bruises tomorrow, and the sounds coming out of her are small and constant, tiny whimpers that pulse with every thrust.

"It's really intense," Rei manages, her lips moving against your collarbone. "Both of you at the same time. I can feel everything. Every inch of both of you. It's so much."

"Having second thoughts?" you ask, running a hand down her spine.

"No. Just... recalibrating." She shivers as Yujin pushes deeper. "It looks so much easier in porn. Those girls are just bouncing around like it's nothing. They lied to me."

"Welcome to the harsh reality of having two cocks in your holes," Yujin says, settling into a slow, steady rhythm. "Porn is propaganda, little bird. This is the real thing."

You and Yujin find each other's rhythm. It takes a few strokes, a couple of adjustments, a silent negotiation between your bodies that happens through Rei, but after a minute you're moving in sync. When you thrust up, Yujin pulls back. When you pull out, she pushes in. Rei is never empty, always full of one of you, and the alternating pressure is making her lose her grip on reality one thrust at a time.

You cup the back of her head and tilt her face toward yours. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused, her lips wet and parted. You kiss her. Your tongue slides against hers and she moans into your mouth, the vibration traveling through your chest. She kisses you back with a sloppy, desperate hunger, her teeth catching your lower lip, her tongue chasing yours, and when you pull away she tries to follow, whining softly when the distance opens between you.

"You're doing so well," you tell her, brushing your thumb across her cheekbone. "You feel incredible. Both holes squeezing me. I've never felt anything like this."

Rei's cheeks flush even deeper, which shouldn't be possible given how red she already is. "Really?"

"Really. You're unbelievable."

Behind Rei, Yujin leans to the side, admiring the view. She reaches down with both hands and spreads Rei's cheeks apart, watching the strap-on slide in and out of her stretched, lubed hole. The sight makes her bite her lower lip and push in harder on the next stroke.

"The little bird was truly born to take it in the ass," Yujin says with the conviction of someone stating scientific fact. "Look at this. It's art. Someone should put this in a museum."

Rei whimpers into your chest. "That's not a museum-appropriate activity."

"Everything is museum-appropriate if the curator is brave enough." Yujin gives Rei's spread ass a long, appreciative look, then lifts her gaze to yours. That mischievous spark is back in her eyes, brighter than before. "So. What do you think of your first threesome?"

You thrust up into Rei and feel her clench around you. "I'm having a great time. Really enjoying the company."

Yujin snorts. She actually giggles, a sound you didn't think she was capable of producing. "I genuinely can't tell if you're describing a threesome or a picnic in the park."

“I love picnics,” Rei mumbles into your shoulder.

Yujin lets out an incredulous breath. “Nobody asked you anything, Rei."

“Sorry,” Rei says quickly, shifting slightly, almost sheepish. “I just… really like picnics. With sandwiches.”

Yujin actually pauses, then exhales a short, disbelieving laugh. “I’m literally inside your ass right now,” she says flatly, “and you’re talking about sandwiches. My fake dick almost went limp.”

Rei winces faintly at that, her fingers tightening where they rest. “Sorry,” she murmurs again. “didn’t mean to kill the vibe.”

Yujin's face softens. She runs her palm up Rei's back, gentle, grounding. "I'm just teasing, babe." Then her hand comes down on Rei's ass with a sharp crack that makes Rei's whole body jolt. "Now moan for mommy, okay?"

Rei obeys. A long, unfiltered moan that starts in her belly and spills out hot and broken against your skin. Her pussy clenches hard around your cock, and you feel the pressure of the strap-on through the thin wall between her holes, the silicone pressing against your shaft from the other side. "Good girl," Yujin purrs. "Louder."

You pick up the pace from below. Your hips drive up with more force, more speed, and Yujin matches you, the two of you falling into a faster rhythm that has Rei gasping and writhing between your bodies.

She's pinned. There's nowhere to go, nothing to do but take it, and the realization seems to hit her all at once because her body goes slack against your chest and she just surrenders. Completely. Every muscle releases and she becomes soft and pliant and open, her hips rocking between you in small, involuntary movements, her moans coming on every exhale.

"There she goes," Yujin murmurs. "She stopped fighting it. Now she's just taking it."

"That's it, Rei." You grab her ass with both hands, spreading her, giving Yujin a better angle. "Just feel it. Let us take care of you."

"Both of you," Rei pants, and her hips grind down onto your cock with a needy, circular motion. "Both of you feel so good. I'm so full. I've never been this full in my life."

You thrust harder. Yujin matches you. The rhythm is faster now, the bed rocking beneath the three of you, the headboard tapping the wall in a steady beat. Rei is sandwiched between your bodies, skin against skin, sweat mingling, and every thrust from either direction makes her cry out. The sounds she's producing are raw and uncontrolled, a continuous stream of moans and gasps and fragments of words that don't connect into sentences.

"Come on, little bird," Yujin says, snapping her hips forward, driving the strap-on deep. "Take it. Take both of us. You wanted this. You asked for this."

"I love it." Rei's nails score lines down your chest. "I love both of you inside me. Please don't stop. Daddy, please don't stop. Mommy, please."

You grab Rei's face in one hand and make her look at you. Her eyes are barely tracking, rolling and glassy, her pupils blown so wide the brown is nearly gone. There's drool on her chin again, her mascara is a lost cause and she is the most beautiful wreck you've ever seen in your life.

"Who makes you feel this good?" you ask, thrusting up hard enough to make her whole body bounce.

"You do, daddy." She can barely get the words out between moans. "You and Yujin. Nobody else. Nobody has ever made me feel like this."

"That's right,” Yujin says. “And nobody else is going to."

Yujin increases her pace. She's gripping Rei's hips hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises, her own breathing getting heavier, her thighs slapping against Rei's ass with every forward snap. She leans over Rei's back, pressing close, her mouth near Rei's ear. "You're taking it so well, babe. Both holes stuffed full and you're still begging for more. You're our perfect little slut."

"I am," Rei sobs. "I'm your slut. Both of yours."

The three of you are moving together now, a single organism of tangled limbs and sweat and noise. You and Yujin have locked into a brutal, alternating rhythm, never letting Rei rest, never giving her a moment without one of you buried deep inside her. Your cock drives up into her pussy, thick and hard and relentless, while the strap-on fills her ass from behind, and Rei is caught in between, overwhelmed, overloaded, every nerve in her body firing at maximum capacity.

You feel her start to tighten. Not just her pussy, her whole body. Every muscle drawing taut, her thighs clamping against your sides, her fingers digging into your shoulders, her teeth sinking into the meat of your chest hard enough to sting. The moans are getting higher, tighter, more desperate.

"She's close," you tell Yujin.

"I know. I can feel her shaking." Yujin pounds harder, the strap-on driving deep. "Come on, Rei. Finish. Give us everything."

"I'm gonna cum." Rei's entire body is vibrating against yours, a fine, uncontrollable tremor that runs through her like an electrical current. "I can't hold it. Both of you are too much. It's too good. I'm gonna cum with both of you inside me."

"Then cum, babe," you tell her, grabbing her hips and driving up into her so hard she bounces off your pelvis. "Cum for us."

Yujin slams forward at the same time you do, and for one brutal, perfect second, Rei is completely filled from both sides at once. Maximum depth. Both holes stretched and stuffed and speared on cock.

Rei detonates. The orgasm is violent. Her body seizes above you, rigid as steel, and the scream that comes out of her is inhuman, a raw, tearing sound that doesn't stop, that just keeps pouring out of her throat as her body convulses. Her pussy crushes your cock in rhythmic, crushing contractions, so tight it's almost painful, and you can feel the strap-on jerking on the other side of that thin wall as her ass clenches just as hard.

She's shaking so violently that Yujin has to grab her waist to keep her from bucking off both of you, and wet heat floods around your cock as she cums so hard her body can't contain it, her juices spilling out around your shaft and running down your balls.

"Holy fuck," Yujin breathes, holding Rei steady, still buried inside her. "Holy fuck, she's still going."

Rei's orgasm keeps rolling, wave after wave, her body clenching and releasing in violent spasms that you feel through every inch of your cock. Tears are streaming down her face, mixing with the drool and the smeared mascara, and she's making sounds that have stopped resembling anything human, just raw, primal noise, her body expressing what her brain no longer can.

You and Yujin slow down together. Easing off. Letting the aftershocks ripple through her without adding to the overload. Yujin pulls out first, slow and careful, and Rei whimpers at the withdrawal, her body twitching. Then you ease your hips down, letting her feel you soften your rhythm to a gentle rocking, just enough contact to keep her grounded while the tremors gradually subside.

Rei collapses onto your chest. Completely boneless. Dead weight. She's breathing in ragged, hitching gasps, her whole body still twitching with aftershocks, and she doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Just lies there, draped across you, her face pressed against your neck, her heartbeat hammering so hard you can feel it against your own ribs.

Yujin unstraps the harness and tosses it off the bed. It lands somewhere on the floor with a thud. She lies down beside you both, propping herself on one elbow, and looks at Rei with something that transcends amusement and enters the territory of reverence.

"Rei. You alive?"

A long silence. Then, muffled against your neck: "I'm going to need a wheelchair from now on." Yujin laughs. "My legs don't work," Rei continues, her face still hidden. "My brain doesn't work. Nothing works. I'm broken. Both of you broke me."

"You're welcome,” Yujin says proudly.

Rei slowly, painfully, rolls off your chest and lands on her back beside you. She lies there spread-eagled on the destroyed bed, staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, body glistening. Every few seconds a residual shudder passes through her and she twitches, her thighs squeezing together involuntarily.

"Tell my Switch 2 I loved it a lot," she mumbles. "We had some amazing moments. Sadly, I won’t be finishing Pokopia..."

Yujin is grinning at Rei when you feel a hand on your jaw. She turns your face toward hers and kisses you. It's unexpected, and that's what makes it hit different. Her lips are soft against yours, warm and unhurried, and she kisses you like she's taking something for herself rather than proving a point. When she pulls back, her eyes are clear and steady. "Good job."

"You did pretty well yourself. Tag team of the century."

She grins, but it fades into something else. She leans close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, her hand resting on your chest. Her breath is warm and her whisper is low enough that Rei can't hear it. "Can you make me cum again?" She traces a small circle on your chest with her fingertip. "I'm kind of obsessed with your cock. It's becoming a problem."

You turn your head and catch her eye. No guarded expression this time, just a lingering heat, a flicker of want, and something raw she isn’t covering up. "Of course I can,” you say.

Yujin grins again, grabs your hand and pulls you off the bed. Your feet hit the hardwood floor and she positions herself in front of you, standing at the edge of the mattress, her back to your chest. The late afternoon light is cutting through the floor-to-ceiling windows and painting gold stripes across her skin, across the lean lines of her shoulders and the sharp curve of her waist.

On the bed, Rei rolls onto her stomach and props her chin on her fists, settling in. Her legs kick up behind her, crossed at the ankles. "Go ahead. I'll just watch and enjoy the show."

Yujin glances back over her shoulder at Rei. "Didn't know you were into voyeurism."

"After today? Voyeurism is all I've got left." Rei shifts and hugs a pillow to her chest. "Everything else has been thoroughly explored. I'm retiring from active duty. Observer status only."

You put both hands on Yujin's waist. She's warm under your palms, her skin damp and smooth, and you can feel her pulse ticking fast beneath the surface. You pull her hips back against you, your cock settling between her thighs, sliding through the slick heat gathered there. She inhales sharply but doesn't move, letting you take the lead. You angle yourself and press the head of your cock against her entrance. She's wet. Embarrassingly wet, from everything she's watched and done and felt over the last however many hours this has been.

You push inside her. Slow. Steady. And Yujin exhales like she's been holding her breath since the last time you were in her, a long, shuddering sigh that drops her shoulders and tips her head forward. "I missed this," she murmurs. "It's been like thirty minutes and I missed this. That's pathetic."

You slide your hands up from her waist. Over the flat plane of her stomach, up her ribs, until your palms cover her breasts. They're full, firm and her nipples are stiff against your palms, and when you squeeze, gentle but possessive, she pushes back against you and takes you another inch deeper.

Your lips find the side of her neck. You kiss the spot just below her ear, then lower, along the tendon, tasting salt and perfume, and she tilts her head to give you more room. You mouth your way down to her shoulder, teeth grazing skin, and feel the goosebumps rise under your lips.

"You have the most incredible body," you tell her, squeezing her breasts again, rolling her nipples between your fingers. You thrust into her, slow and deep, and feel her clench around you. "Every single part of you. Your stomach. Your hips. These legs." You press deeper and she gasps. "You're so fucking hot it's hard to concentrate."

Yujin laughs, breathy and unsteady, her composure fraying at the edges. "You're so obsessed with me. It's borderline clinical."

"It's the truth. Why would I lie about it?" You pull back and push in again, a long stroke that fills her completely, and her laugh cuts off into a moan. "I've been with one woman for over a year and she never once made me feel anything close to what I feel when I'm inside you."

"Stop being smooth while you're fucking me. It's not fair. I can't think of comebacks."

"Then don't think." You start thrusting deeper. Not faster, just deeper, each stroke reaching further, grinding at the peak before pulling back. Yujin's head falls back against your shoulder, her hair spilling over your skin, and she stares at the ceiling with her lips parted and her eyes half-shut.

From this angle you can see everything. The way her throat works when she swallows a moan. The way her stomach clenches with every thrust. The way her hands hang at her sides because she doesn't know what to do with them, because she's given up trying to control the situation and she's just letting you have her.

"Damn… you’re fucking me so good," she says, voice low, stripped of anything but pure feeling. "You're hitting something in there that I didn't even know existed. How are you doing that?"

"Trade secret."

"Asshole."

"You two look really good together," Rei says, and her tone has a roughness to it that wasn't there a minute ago. "Like, unreasonably good. The height difference. The way she leans into you. The way your hands look on her body." She shifts again. "Maybe I'm more into this voyeurism thing than I thought."

Yujin moans, long and open, as you thrust particularly deep. "Enjoying the view, little bird?"

"Very much."

You keep fucking Yujin. Slow, measured strokes from behind, your hands exploring her body with a thoroughness that's making her squirm. Every time you squeeze her hip, she clenches around you. Every time you kiss her neck, she tilts into it. Every time you murmur something against her skin, her breathing gets shorter.

There's no pretense anymore. No competition, no performance, no score-keeping. She's just here, with you, feeling everything, and for the first time today she's letting herself have it without a fight.

"Wrap your arm around me," she says, quiet, tentative even. You slide your arm around her waist and pull her flush against your chest, and she makes a small, satisfied sound and reaches back to grip the back of your neck, holding you close. The position is intimate in a way that nothing else today has been. Your chest against her back, your arm around her, your cock buried deep inside her, the two of you moving together in the golden afternoon light.

After several minutes, the mattress creaks. Rei has gotten tired of watching. She pushes herself up, swings her legs off the bed, and stands in front of Yujin on unsteady legs. She's still flushed, still wrecked, still marked with the aftermath of everything that's happened to her body today, but there's a renewed energy in her eyes.

She steps close and cups Yujin's face in both hands. Yujin looks at her, surprised, and Rei kisses her, their lips meeting softly, tongues touching, Rei's thumbs stroking Yujin's cheekbones. When they part, Yujin's eyes are glassy. "Looks like the little bird got her strength back."

Rei smiles. "Watching you get fucked is like spinach. Instant recovery."

"Don’t ever let those words come out of your mouth around me again."

"Stop being so grumpy,” Rey says, then her mouth travels down. She kisses Yujin's jaw, her throat, the hollow of her collarbone. Her lips close around Yujin's left nipple and she sucks softly, her tongue flicking across the stiff peak. Yujin hisses through her teeth and her hand comes up to cradle the back of Rei's head, fingers threading through dark hair. You keep fucking Yujin from behind, your pace steady, and between the two of you she's starting to shake.

Rei kisses lower. Down Yujin's sternum, across her stomach, her lips tracing the faint lines of definition there. She drops to her knees between Yujin's thighs, looking up at both of you, and the angle gives her a perfect view of your cock sliding in and out of Yujin's pussy. "Let me help," Rei says, licking her lips.

You lift Yujin's left leg and place it on the edge of the mattress, opening her up. The new angle drives you deeper and Yujin gasps, grabbing your arm for balance. Her pussy is spread wide now, everything exposed, and Rei leans in and presses her tongue flat against Yujin's clit.

"Fuck—" Yujin breathes. "Oh, fuck."

Rei licks her in slow, broad strokes, her tongue running from where your cock enters Yujin all the way up to her clit and back down again. She's licking both of you, tasting Yujin's wetness and the slick coating your shaft, her tongue sliding along the underside of your cock every time you pull back. The sensation is staggering, Rei's hot, wet tongue dragging along your cock while Yujin's pussy grips you from every angle, and you have to lock your jaw to keep your composure.

"This is too fucking good," Yujin gasps, her head falling back against your shoulder again. "Both of you. Her tongue and your cock. It's too much. I can't handle this."

"You can handle it," you tell her, thrusting harder. "You're handling it right now."

"I'm barely surviving."

Rei focuses her attention on Yujin's clit, sucking it between her lips, flicking it with the tip of her tongue in quick, precise strokes. Her hands grip Yujin's thighs, holding her open, and every few seconds she dips down to drag her tongue along the stretched rim of Yujin's pussy where your cock is splitting her apart. The wet sounds are filthy and constant, Rei's mouth and your cock working together in a symphony of slick, obscene noise.

You increase your pace. Harder, faster, your hips driving into Yujin with a force that makes her whole body rock forward with each thrust. Rei adjusts, staying close, her tongue never leaving Yujin's clit. You grab Yujin's hip with one hand and her breast with the other, pulling her back onto your cock as you slam forward.

"I'm not going to last," Yujin pants. Her fingers are tangled in Rei's hair, pulling her closer, grinding her pussy against Rei's face. "Both of you at once is cheating. This is fucking cheating."

"Complain about it later," Rei says against her clit, the words buzzing against sensitive flesh, and Yujin's legs buckle for a second.

"Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god." Yujin's hand shoots back and grabs the back of your neck, nails biting into your skin. Her body is tensing up, that familiar full-body clench, every muscle drawing tight. "I'm close. I'm really close. Don't stop. Neither of you stop. Please, daddy, don't stop—"

You pound into her, relentless, your cock driving deep on every stroke. Rei sucks her clit hard, her cheeks hollowing, her eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Yujin is caught between the two of you, shaking, gasping, her body coiling tighter and tighter. "Cum for us," you growl against her ear. "Let go, babe."

Yujin cums. Her whole body seizes, her spine arching away from your chest, her mouth opening in a silent scream that hangs in the air for one eternal second before the sound catches up. A raw, shattered moan rips out of her, and then the flood. She squirts hard, a forceful spray that catches Rei directly in the face.

Rei flinches back, eyes flying open, sputtering. Her face is drenched. Her hair is drenched. She's blinking rapidly, mouth open in shock, Yujin's release dripping off her chin and running down her neck.

Yujin sees Rei's face through the haze of her orgasm and starts laughing. A breathless, broken laugh that mixes with her moans, her body still convulsing around your cock. "Oh my god. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, little bird. But your face right now..."

Another jet pulses out of her, arcing through the air and hitting Rei square in the chest, splashing across her breasts and running down her stomach. Rei looks down at herself, then up at Yujin, her expression caught between outrage and disbelief. "Yujin!"

"I can't control it!" Yujin is laughing so hard she can barely stand, her legs wobbling, her body still twitching through the tail end of her orgasm. "It just happens!"

You ease your pace, slowing to a gentle rocking, letting her ride the last waves. When you finally pull out, Yujin shudders one last time and exhales a breath that seems to empty her completely. She leans against you for a moment, catching her balance, then looks at Rei, who is kneeling on the floor absolutely soaked from the chest up.

Yujin's mouth twitches. "Okay. Since little bird got a surprise facial..." She pushes herself off you and lowers to her knees beside Rei, both of them on the floor in front of you. Yujin wipes a streak of wetness off Rei's cheek with her thumb and grins. "Let's finish the job properly."

Yujin's fingers wrap around the base of your cock. Rei's hand joins hers, overlapping, both of them stroking you in tandem. Their faces are inches from the head, looking up at you, and the visual alone almost does you in. "Look at these balls," Yujin says, her free hand cupping them, weighing them, rolling them in her palm. "So fucking full. You've been holding it in this whole time while you made both of us cum how many times? You're gonna explode. There's gonna be so much."

Rei runs her tongue along the underside of your shaft while Yujin strokes, a long, slow lick from base to tip that makes your thighs tense. "He deserves it. He's been so patient."

"Patient isn't the word. This man has the self-control of a monk." Yujin leans forward and takes the head into her mouth, sucking hard, her cheeks hollowing, tasting herself on you. She pulls off with a wet sound. "I can still taste my pussy on your dick. That's so hot."

Rei takes over, swallowing you deep, her throat opening around your shaft with that natural ease that made Yujin's jaw drop earlier. She holds there, her nose pressed against your pelvis, then pulls back slowly, a thick string of saliva connecting her lip to your cock. "You taste like both of us now."

They alternate. Rei goes deep while Yujin works the shaft. Then Yujin takes you in her mouth, sloppy and aggressive, while Rei dips lower and sucks your balls, taking one into her mouth, rolling it gently with her tongue. The combined sensation of two mouths, two tongues, four hands, all of it focused on your cock with a coordinated intensity that borders on worship, is pushing you toward the edge faster than anything has all afternoon.

"You two are so fucking good together," you manage, your hand finding the back of Yujin's head, your other hand tangled in Rei's hair. "The best mouths I've ever had. Nothing even comes close."

Yujin pulls off long enough to grin up at you. "Tell us more."

"Fishing for compliments with my dick in your mouth. Classy."

"Always." She runs her tongue in a circle around the head. "Now tell us how bad you want to cum."

"Pretty fucking bad."

Rei releases your balls and licks her way back up, joining Yujin at the tip. Both their tongues meet at the head, lapping at the sensitive ridge, their lips brushing against each other and against you in a wet, messy tangle that makes your abs clench hard enough to ache.

"Then cum for us, daddy," Rei says, looking up at you with those wide brown eyes that have no right to look that innocent given what her mouth is doing. "Please. We want it."

"We need it," Yujin adds, stroking you faster. "Cum on our faces. Give us what Wonyoung would never let you have." She spits on your cock and twists her fist on the upstroke, her grip tightening. "That prissy bitch would never let you cum on her perfect little princess face. Too messy. Too dirty. Too beneath her."

"But we're not her," Rei breathes, her tongue flicking across your slit. "We actually want it. We're begging for it."

"We're so much better than her." Yujin's pace increases, her fist pumping your slick cock fast and relentless. "We let you fuck our pussies raw. We let you fuck Rei's tight little ass. We let you do anything you want with us. Wonyoung could never."

"She could never," Rei echoes, sucking the tip between her lips briefly. "She doesn't deserve this cock. We do."

"So give it to us." Yujin's hand is a blur now, her wrist snapping on every stroke, your cock drooling precum that she smears across the head with her thumb. "Cum all over us. Paint our faces. We want to wear it."

Your grip tightens in both their hair. Your thighs are shaking. Your balls are drawn up tight and the pressure is building, building, a coiling heat in your lower stomach that's about to snap. Both of them are focused on the tip now, their tongues overlapping, licking, their lips kissing the head of your cock from either side.

"Cum, daddy," Rei whispers.

"Fucking cum," Yujin demands.

You break. The first rope hits Yujin across the bridge of her nose and her right cheek, thick and white and hot. She doesn't flinch. Doesn't close her eyes. Just keeps stroking, her fist pumping your cock through the orgasm, milking every drop. "More," she says. "Give us more. Don't stop."

The second shot catches Rei across her forehead and her left eye, which she squeezes shut just in time. It drips down her brow and along her cheekbone. The third hits them both, streaking across Yujin's lips and Rei's chin. You're cumming harder than you've ever cum in your life, weeks and months of pent-up frustration and loneliness and faithfulness to a woman who couldn't be bothered to break up with you in person, all of it pouring out of you in thick, pulsing ropes that keep coming and coming.

Yujin's hand doesn't stop. She keeps stroking, fast and tight, pulling every last drop from you while your cock throbs and kicks in her grip. "That's it. Keep cumming. Fuck, there's so much. Look at all of it, Rei."

Rei is a mess. Her face is glazed with it, white streaks across her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, dripping off her chin onto her chest. She opens her good eye and looks up at you with that stupid, blissed-out grin. Your cock pulses one more time, a final weak spurt that lands on Yujin's collarbone, and then you're done. Empty. Completely and thoroughly spent.

Yujin smiles up at you. Her face is covered. It's in her eyelashes, across the bridge of her nose, on her upper lip. She looks like a glazed donut and she couldn't look more satisfied about it. "Amazing… And to think I'm getting paid for this."

Rei scoops a thick line of cum off her cheek with two fingers and slides them into her mouth, sucking them clean. She considers the taste for a moment, like a sommelier evaluating a vintage, and nods approvingly. Yujin runs her tongue across her upper lip, collecting what's gathered there, and swallows.

You sit down on the edge of the mattress. Your legs feel like they've been deboned. You lean back on your hands and let out a breath that comes from somewhere deep in your chest, somewhere that's been clenched tight for months. "That was fucking awesome."

"The best part," Rei says, still kneeling on the floor, still dripping, "is that we're sleeping here tonight. So we can do it again later."

Yujin groans from the floor. "Do we really need him? What if he's a serial killer? We don't know this man."

Rei looks at her flatly. "I just let the serial killer cum on my face, Yujin."

Yujin purses her lips. Opens her mouth. Closes it. "You have a point."

You lean forward and offer both of them a hand up. "How about a bath? I've got a tub big enough for three."

"You made the mess," Yujin says, taking your hand and pulling herself to her feet. "You clean it up." She touches her hair and her fingers come away sticky. "There's cum in my hair. This is a two-hundred-dollar blowout."

"I'll wash it for you."

"Damn right you will."

—

A few hours later, the penthouse feels calmer. Golden daylight has slipped into a cool evening blue, and the city beyond the windows begins to glow.

Yujin is in your kitchen. She's wearing your shirt, a white oxford that hangs to the top of her thighs, the hem just barely covering the curve of her ass, which peeks out whenever she reaches for anything above counter height. Her legs are bare, her hair is damp from the bath and starting to curl at the ends, and she's got your wireless headphones clamped over her ears.

She's singing, her hips swaying as she opens the freezer and pulls out a tub of ice cream. Her bare feet pad across the kitchen tile and she grabs a spoon from the drawer, scooping out a bite and eating it while she sings between mouthfuls.

"Hey, Miss Sun, what can I say?" She twirls the spoon between her fingers, bobbing her head. "I tried to hold you, but the moon got in the way..." She does a little spin, sliding on the tile in her bare feet, and catches herself on the counter. "It won't be long before the morning has you back in my arms—"

The music cuts out. Her phone buzzes on the counter, the screen lighting up. She glances at it and the spoon freezes halfway to her mouth.

Jang Wonyoung

Yujin sets down the ice cream. Pulls off the headphones. Takes a breath. Answers. "Hey, boss."

Wonyoung's tone comes through tinny and sharp, even from across the room. Yujin leans against the counter and examines her nails while she listens.

"Where are you two? You've been off the grid all day. I tried calling Rei three times."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Rei hurt her ankle. Fell down some stairs on the way out of his building." Yujin picks at a cuticle. "That girl doesn't look where she's going. I keep telling her. She just spaces out and trips over everything."

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine. It's just a mild sprain. I took her back to her apartment to keep an eye on her. We'll probably be in tomorrow."

A pause on the other end. "How did it go? Everything run smoothly?"

"Smooth as silk. Textbook operation. Contract signed, obligations fulfilled. All wrapped up."

"Did he cry?"

A flicker of tension pulls at Yujin’s jaw before she smooths it over. “No,” she says, light as ever.

"Seriously?" Wonyoung sounds genuinely annoyed. "He should have cried. I expected at least some tears. I would have cried."

"I think he wanted to. He was definitely holding it back. Didn't want to cry in front of two girls, you know? Fragile masculinity. Big ego, small emotional range. The usual."

"Men..." Wonyoung sighs with the weariness of someone who has never once been inconvenienced by her own behavior. "How was the sex?"

"Everything went according to plan. He was satisfied by the end. No complaints. No resentment. Mission accomplished."

"Perfect. Great work, Yujin. Now we just have to wait about six months." Wonyoung's tone shifts into something brighter, more animated, the sound of someone admiring their own strategy. "The breakup's going to generate tons of attention. Everyone loves a fallen romance. Sympathetic press for me, speculation, mystery. And then in six months, we get back together. Reconciliation arc. The public eats that up. Engagement numbers will be through the roof."

Yujin stares at the far wall. "Sounds like you've got it all figured out."

"I always do. Just keep the documents safe. I want everything on my desk tomorrow."

"Of course. You can count on me, boss."

"I know I can. Goodnight, Yujin."

"Goodnight."

The call ends. The screen goes dark. Yujin stands there for a moment, phone in hand, staring at nothing. Then she puts the headphones back on. The music starts again, Miss Sun picking up where it left off. She grabs the ice cream tub and turns toward the hallway. On her way past the kitchen trash can, she glances down.

Inside, sitting on top of crumpled paper towels, is a small pile of ashes. Gray and black and still faintly warm. The edges of a few charred paper fragments are still visible, corners of thick, expensive legal stock, the kind used for contracts that were meant to be kept in briefcases and filed in offices and presented to bosses who think they run the world.

Yujin takes a bite of ice cream and looks at the ashes for a long, satisfied moment.

“That bitch has no idea what’s coming,” she murmurs around the spoon.

Yujin turns off the kitchen light and pads down the hallway to your bedroom, carrying the ice cream with her, humming softly.

[usedpidemo]

heaven and back

ive rei & liz x male reader

19.3k words ————— You’ve told him ‘no’ three different ways before you even get in the car.

The first is polite: soft voice, palms up, the whole ‘hey man, appreciate it but I’m good’ routine. The second is practical—readings you haven’t done, an early class you can’t skip again, and a body that reacts to alcohol like it’s a personal insult. And the third is just you finally being honest, because you’ve learned that sometimes, you have to be blunt or he’ll treat your boundaries like polite suggestions.

“I’m not drinking,” you insist, and you’re dead serious about it. “And I don’t want to go clubbing.”

Of course, your friend, Wonbin, casually smiles like you’ve said something adorable.

He’s leaning against the driver side of his car, the kind that looks like it was designed to be photographed outside of hotels. Clean lines, dark paint, the Mercedes silver arrow discreet but still loud. His shirt is black and fitted in a way that makes you suspect it’s luxury just because it refuses to wrinkle. The watch on his wrist is one of those sleek, quiet things that probably costs the same as your tuition down payment, but he wears it like it’s just what happens when you’re born into money.

He doesn’t say your name. He never does when he’s trying to win.

“You never let me do anything nice for you,” he says.

“Because your definition of ‘nice’ is—whatever this is.” 

You’re gesturing at the car, the downtown skyline glowing from a distance, the way even the air here smells different already: less cheap food and exhaust, more cologne and polished stone.

Wonbin laughs, low and easy. “Okay, and how many times have I let you do nice things for me?”

“That’s not—”

“Oh, it is.” He pushes off the car and steps closer, grin turning sharp around the edges. “Thesis. Relationship advice. You literally stayed up with me until four a.m. to rewrite my methodology section because I was ‘stressed.’”

“I did not rewrite—”

“You rewrote,” he says, like it’s already settled in court. “And you did it without asking for anything. Not even a ‘buy me coffee.’ You’re allergic to being owed, which is cute, but also annoying. So. Tonight is me returning overdue favors.”

Your own outfit suddenly feels like it’s being judged by the city itself: jeans, sneakers, a shirt you got on sale because it was the cleanest thing on top of the pile, topped by a coat you typically save for campus presentations. You look like a guy who belongs in a library, or a cafeteria line, or sitting on a mono block chair outside a coffee truck scrolling on low battery.

You do not look anywhere like you belong wherever he’s taking you.

“I can’t even afford to breathe in that place,” you tell him. “Also, I’m not drinking.”

He tilts his head, eyes glittering. “Who said you have to drink?”

“You did. You literally said, ‘Let’s go get drinks.’”

“Marketing,” he corrects. “It’s called marketing. I’m selling you an experience. There will be other beverages.”

You glare at him until he sighs dramatically, like you’re the one being difficult.

“Fine,” he starts again. “Let me be honest. This is not a ‘random’ night. I’ve had this date marked for months.”

That's new. Wonbin can be impulsive at times, yes, but he’s also the type to treat his life like a calendar invite: everything curated, everything done with reason.

“You marked a club night on your calendar,” you repeat, just to make sure you've heard him correctly.

“Idol Night,” he answers, and he says it like you should already know what that is. Like it’s a national holiday.

You blink. “Idol—as in—”

“As in yes. K-pop idols.” His smile widens, pleased with himself, like the whole concept was his vision. “And before you start, no, you can’t Google it. You won’t find it. That’s the whole point.”

God, if only you can just eject yourself from his car. You could still walk away the responsible one, the boring one, the guy who goes home and washes dishes and sets alarms like life is a series of small, careful choices. Maybe you can refuse and he’d sulk for maybe an hour and then buy you something as a peace offering and you’d both pretend this never happened.

But then he reiterates, quietly: “You’ve never let me return anything.”

And you hate when he says it, because it’s true. He’s not wrong; you’ve always been the friend who helps and shrugs it off and says it’s fine, and part of you—some tiny, inconvenient part—knows that maybe letting someone do something for you isn’t a crime.

So you exhale, long and resigned to his schedule.

“Fine,” you finally concede. “But I’m leaving early.”

His beam is triumphant. “Perfect. You can leave early. After the performance.”

“You’re negotiating,” you say.

“I’m already winning,” he replies immediately, and opens the passenger door like you’re stepping into a different life for the night.

He slides into the driver’s seat like it’s home. You buckle up like you’re bracing for impact.

As you pull away from the main highway and into the downtown district, the buildings grow taller and shinier and less forgiving. Streetlights reflect off glass walls. The sidewalks are wide, clean, almost sterile—like they’re designed more for walking with purpose than lingering. You pass restaurants with menus you can’t pronounce and storefronts that display a single handbag bathed in spotlight like art pieces in a museum.

Your friend drives one-handed, relaxed. He taps the steering wheel with a ringed finger, humming along to a song you’ve put him on, one of the few things from your world he'll indulge in, and you try not to think about how easy everything looks from his point of view.

“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going exactly?" you ask, knowing there's no answer waiting on the other end.

“You’ll see."

“That’s not comforting.”

“It’s not supposed to be comforting,” he replies, and then, softer, like he’s letting you in on a secret: “It’s supposed to be special.”

You can't help but snort. “You sound like an ad.”

“I am an ad,” he continues. “For a lifestyle you refuse to try. Tonight, you’re my target market.”

You lean your head against the window and watch the city smear into light. Tell yourself you’ll stay for an hour. 90 minutes, tops. Sip whatever non-alcoholic thing he shoves at you, clap politely, pretend you know what to do with your hands, and then you’ll slip out before midnight, before anyone expects you to be the kind of guy who stays. Before you start to feel like you belong.

—————

The club is nestled inside a building that doesn’t look it was designed for partying.

There’s no neon sign screaming for attention. No decadent posters. No hourlong or more queue of sweaty people in heels, rushed makeup, and tight shirts. From a distance, it’s almost anonymous: dark facade, clean edges, a discreet entrance framed by a pair of men in black suits who stand too still to be set decoration. Wonbin pulls up without slowing, and the valet steps forward like he’s been waiting specifically for this car. 

He gets out first. You follow, and immediately feel underdressed in a way that’s almost physical, like your shirt is suddenly itchy and your sneakers are a joke everyone can hear.

The exchange is smooth, silent, practiced. Wonbin doesn’t even look back as he hands over the keys; he simply turns to you and says, “Don’t look terrified.”

“I’m not terrified,” you lie, feeling the pressure emanating from the guards waiting at the front door.

The reflection in the glossy black of the building’s paneling mirrors an image of a life that clearly doesn't belong anywhere near this place. Your hair looks slightly disheveled from a half-assed comb, your posture looking too careful, your whole vibe screaming tryhard who barely touches grass and takes Overwatch seriously.

Then you glance at Wonbin: perfect fit, crisp lines, hair styled like he woke up exactly like this. He doesn’t carry himself like he’s trying to impress anyone; he carries himself like he owns the world and he’s just letting himself wherever he wants.

One of the suited men nods at him. “Good evening.”

He nods back, casual, like he's greeting you. “Evening.”

There are no ID checks. No public pat-downs. It’s all quieter than that, more private. One of them glances at you, scanning—not rude, not friendly, just assessing—like you’re a piece of luggage he's brought along. Wonbin drapes an arm over your shoulders and steers you toward the entrance with the kind of possession he thinks is funny and would make others feel degraded.

“He’s with me,” he remarks, and the man immediately looks away, as if your status has been decided with his mere word.

Regardless, you step to his rhythm.

Inside, the lobby is dim and smells faintly like expensive candles and exotic perfume. And boy, do they really want to make it appear exclusive.

Floors tiled in black marble. Gold accents. A chandelier that glitters without trying too hard. The music isn’t pounding nor deafening yet like other clubs; it’s a low thrum, a steady heartbeat under the walls, as if the building is keeping its energy contained on purpose.

A woman at a podium smiles at your friend, and her smile changes when she recognizes him: wider, warmer, personal.

“Welcome back," she says.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Wonbin replies, casual.

Her eyes flick over to you, the elephant in the room. “And your guest?”

“He’s family,” he insists, and you almost choke because what the fuck— 

But she just nods and grins gently, like that explains everything. 

As you approach the elevator, she steps ahead of you, a hand already stretched out with expectance. “Phones, please.”

You hesitate, tugging on your slacks’ pocket.

Wonbin pulls his phone out immediately and places it in a velvet-lined tray that appears like magic on the podium. “House rules.”

The woman offers you the tray.

First you look at your half-sheathed phone, then at Wonbin. This might be your last chance to balk while you still have a pulse.

“No cameras,” he reminds you, lifting a brow. “Strictly. They’ll cover the lenses if you insist on keeping it, but it’s easier to just—comply.”

Comply. That word bothers you more than it normally does. It’s said so casually, like being told what to do is part of the luxury. Like you're about to step into a world not meant for prying or innocent eyes.

Ultimately, you concede and hand over your phone.

The woman slips both phones into slim black pouches that lock with a click you feel in your teeth. She attaches a small numbered tag to your friend’s keyring. “You’ll retrieve them when you leave.”

“See?” Wonbin mumbles as you step forward. “Undocumented. Unrecorded. No paparazzi, no leaks. Everyone here likes their privacy.”

“Or they like doing things they don’t want people to know about,” you reply.

He looks over at you, amused. “Same thing.”

An elevator waits behind another set of doors. A guard taps a keycard. The doors slide open, and you step inside with your friend and two others: a man in a suit that fits like a weapon, and a woman in a dress that looks like it was poured onto her.

Nobody makes small talk. Here, noise feels like a crime.

The elevator rises without fanfare. With each passing number on the panel, your stomach does that little drop it does when you realize you’re somewhere above your pay grade.

When the doors open again, the club unfolds like a hub for some kind of top secret gathering.

It’s not one room, but a series of spaces, each more controlled than the last. The hallway is lined with dark velvet. A lounge is lit by low amber lamps. There's a bar that gleams like a supercar showroom. In the surrounding areas, private booths are separated by sheer curtains that hide faces but not silhouettes.

And beyond it all, past another set of doors—you see the main hall.

It’s a wide, tiered space with a stage at the far end, framed by gold trim and dark screens. Lights hang overhead like suspended constellations. Tables circle the dance floor, each one stocked with bottles that probably cost more than your monthly allowance. More importantly, the people here are dressed like they’re attending a proper event and not spending a casual night out: businessmen decked out in watches that catch the light when they lift a glass, women with jewelry that sparkles like it’s breathing. Young men with perfect hair and bored expressions, rich kids close to your age with sharp smiles and soft hands, the kind who treat money like background noise. Celebrities you recognize but can’t place fast enough, their faces half-hidden in shadow, notable figures who have no business being here, whose presence is its own scandal.

You pause at the threshold because your brain is trying to process the idea that a place like this exists in the same city where you buy street food with coins and complain about traffic like it’s a personality trait.

Of course, Wonbin is familiar around these parts. He moves through the place like it’s his own living room.

A staff member approaches immediately: black uniform, earpiece, posture trained to look attentive without being intrusive.

“Table for two,” he says to the guy, and he doesn’t even have to show anything. The staff member already knows. Already gestures.

You follow, trying not to look like you’re staring at anything for longer than a few seconds.

“Can we sit somewhere—less—” you suggest, but the words gradually die in your mouth.

“Less what?” he asks.

“Less visible,” you force out, almost choking.

Wonbin laughs. “You’re adorable.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is the answer." Wonbin leads you to a table with a clear view of the stage, close enough that you could see facial expressions, but far enough that you’re not in the splash zone of attention.

You sit carefully, like the chair might charge you for being nervous. A server appears with menus that feel too heavy for what they contain. Wonbin doesn’t bother to open his. 

“Whiskey,” he says, having already made his order the moment he took his first step inside. “Neat.”

You open yours, eyes skimming past prices you refuse to read fully because they’ll insult you for simply existing.

“And for you?” the server asks.

You look up, avoiding eye contact. “Um—soda?”

Wonbin's mouth twitches. The server doesn’t blink. “Certainly. Any preference?”

“Whatever’s—normal,” you answer, immediately regretting saying it because what does that even mean here.

The server nods like 'normal' is a brand. “Of course.”

When the server leaves, Wonbin leans back and stretches his arm over the back of his chair, relaxed. He looks at you like you’re tonight's entertainment.

“See? No drinking required,” he says.

“You’re drinking.”

“I’m not you,” he replies.

You glance around again. The room is full, but it doesn’t feel crowded. The sound is controlled, like the club has decided exactly how loud the world is allowed to be. Elsewhere, conversations hum. Glass clinks softly. A laugh bursts somewhere and gets swallowed by velvet.

“How many people are here?” you ask.

“Enough,” he says. “It’s curated. By invitation-only. Most of them are regulars, like me.”

“Regulars,” you echo, because the word sounds ridiculous. Like people casually do this every weekend: go to a secret club to relax and network privately while sipping alcohol that costs a month’s worth of groceries.

Your friend watches your face, amused at your disbelief. “You should’ve seen the guest list the first time I came. I thought I was hallucinating.”

“You came here before?”

He looks offended. “No shit. You think I’d bring you to something untested?”

“You test things like this?”

“I test experiences,” he corrects, like what he's doing is a respectable hobby.

Your soda arrives in a glass that makes it look like it’s trying to be taken seriously. His whiskey arrives like a quiet threat: clear, sharp, catching the light.

Wonbin raises his glass. “To favors repaid.”

You lift your soda, trying to be rude, but your words betray: “To leaving early.”

He clinks anyway. “We’ll see.”

Time slides slowly, like the night has no end. Your friend chats with people who stop by, names you don’t remember, faces you’ll never see even once on campus. They greet him with familiarity, with deference, with that subtle shift people make when they’re speaking to someone they consider important.

Nobody really looks at you for longer than a few seconds. You’re an accessory. A tag-along. The 'family friend' in sneakers.

You should be relieved.

Instead, you feel small. Not in a self-pity way. Just in a wow, this is what it feels like to be outside your lane.

"So." Wonbin leans back, spreading his arms along the top of the booth. His gaze constantly lingers on the main stage, clearly excited for what's to come. "What do you think?"

"I mean—" you pause, taking a glance up and down some curtains. They look nice and elegant, to be fair— "—it's a club, alright."

"It's the club." He gestures vaguely at the space around them. "No press, no cameras, no nothing. What happens here—" He draws a finger across his throat. "Stays in more ways than one."

"Very dramatic."

"Very true." He leans forward, lowering his cadence. "You know how many scandals have been quietly resolved in rooms like this? How many careers have been made or broken on that stage?"

You look at the stage again. Still empty. Just dark wood and the glint of spotlights waiting to ignite.

"I don't want to know."

Wonbin laughs, loud and genuine, drawing a few awkward glances from nearby tables. "That's why I like you. You're the only person I know who genuinely doesn't care about any of this." 

He motions at himself, at the room, at everything. "It's refreshing. Like hanging out with a normal person."

"Gee, thanks."

"I mean it as a compliment."

The drinks arrive. Yours is soda in a glass that likely costs more than the soda five times over. Wonbin's is something amber and smoky that he swirls once before knocking back half of it.

"So." He sets the glass down. "I've had this date marked for like, four months."

You raise an eyebrow. "You mark dates?" you ask, playful, lightly ribbing at the idea.

"I mark important dates,” he emphasizes. “This one's important." 

He's watching you with an expression you can't quite read—amused, yes, but something else underneath. "Like I said, tonight’s Idol Night."

You choke on your water. Still doesn’t feel like an actual believable event, at best something a promotional flyer that plays K-pop on a random Tuesday at gay clubs and cover bands perform, not some clandestine hall such as this one.

"Run that by me again?"

"Idol Night." Wonbin grins when he repeats himself. "Once a month, sometimes twice, they bring in fresh faces in K-pop. Small venue, intimate setting. No cameras, no recordings, no fansites. Just the performers and the audience."

"That's—" You're doing the math in your head, and nothing adds up. "That's not a thing. That doesn't happen."

"It happens." He flags down the server for another drink. "At least here, anyway. They've had Le sserafim, aespa, i-dle—the whole shebang—” Your ear twitches at the very mention. Three of the biggest in the industry right now—and somehow, they’ve coerced into performing in this environment. You have so many questions. But he keeps going. “The catch is, you have to know someone. And the groups that come through are the ones with something to prove, or something to gain, or—" he shrugs. "Connections to make. You'd be surprised what happens when the cameras are off."

You're staring at him. You know you're staring at him, but you can't stop. Because Wonbin is many things: rich, spoiled, occasionally thoughtless, but he's not a liar. And the way he's talking, the casual delivery and normalization of it all—

"You've been to one of these before."

"Couple times." He accepts his second drink, takes a sip. "Saw ITZY last year.” He drops his voice to a hush, the kind that’s sacred, telling forbidden secrets: “You know, Ryujin sat in my lap—and Yuna spread it wide after—”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

"Bullshit."

"One hundred percent fact." He's grinning now, enjoying your lack of belief. "They mingle after the performance. How long? Depends on the group, depends on the night. But yeah. It's real."

You look around the room again, seeing it differently now. The clusters of men in suits, the occasional woman whose beauty has that specific sharpness of someone who's either an idol or could be one. The way the lighting seems designed to flatter, to hide, to reveal exactly what it wants to—

"And you brought me here because—"

"Because you're my friend," Wonbin softens, just slightly. "And because I know you've never been able to get tickets to anything. Between school and work and—" He waves a hand. "Life. You're always the one helping everyone else. So yeah. I cashed in some favors. Got us in."

You don't know what to say. The glass suddenly feels colder in your grasp; the trickle of water beads down your skin might as well be sudden sweat.

"I—"

"Don't get emotional." He holds up his own hand. "Seriously, don't. I'll make fun of you forever."

Too late. There's something tight in your chest, something that might be gratitude. Having someone like Wonbin remember the poster on your bedroom wall, the albums on your shelf, the binder of photocards you pretend is just for collecting Pokémon cards—

"Which group?" you manage, and somehow, this might be your biggest regret of the lot.

Wonbin's grin turns sly. "Have a guess."

"I'm not guessing."

"Humor me."

You think about it. Le sserafim, aespa, ITZY, i-dle—all groups with the kind of reputation that makes this setting almost make sense. Groups whose concepts lean more on the mature side, whose stages push boundaries, whose fans are used to a certain level of sexuality—

But Wonbin's watching you with that look, the one that says he knows something you don't, and suddenly your brain catches up with the context clues.

"No."

"Maybe."

"No fucking shot."

"Oh, absolutely."

You're shaking your head in denial, but your heart's already racing. "IVE doesn't—they're not—their image is—"

"I know." Wonbin's practically glowing. "That's the point."

"They're the nation's sweethearts. Kids adore them. I don’t see why—"

You want to argue. List all the reasons this can't be happening, all the logical reasons IVE would never agree to perform in a setting like this, mark all the reasons you should leave right now before you see something you can't unsee.

But you don't move.

Because the poster on your wall is Wonyoung in that blue dress from that one awards show. Because your albums are all first press, still kept in their plastic sleeves. Because you've spent hours watching fancams, reading translations, falling down rabbit holes of content until three in the morning when you should have been studying.

Because you're a fan. A real one. The kind that Wonbin's making fun of but also, apparently, worth paying attention to.

Before you press him further, the lights dim.

A murmur runs through the crowd, anticipation thrumming like a second bass line. You grip your glass, knuckles white.

"Relax." Wonbin's already looking like he’s having the time of his life watching your every reaction. "It's just a show."

"Nothing about this is just anything."

He chuckles, but you're not paying attention anymore because the stage lights are coming up, soft gold bleeding into the dark, and there's movement in the wings.

Six figures. Six distinct silhouettes.

And together, they step into the light.

You've saved countless pictures. Watched hours of content. You know every angle of their faces, every variation of their stage outfits, every carefully curated moment of their public personas.

None of it prepares you for this.

Because holy fuck.

Your gaze lands on Gaeul first. Leading with that calm, gentle confidence you've admired in a hundred fancams. But the outfit—god, the outfits. Gold tops and black shorts on every member. All of them rock it like goddesses, but on her, it's something else. A cropped top that barely exists, high-waisted bottoms that somehow show more than they cover, chains draping across her stomach like jewelry you want to trace with your fingers.

Then your eyes focus on Yujin, and your breath catches because she's looking directly at the audience, that stare that's always been more challenge than invitation. Her outfit is the most elaborate, if you can call it that: more chains, more cutouts, a harness situation that frames her chest in ways that make your mouth go dry. She moves like she owns the stage, like she owns you, and the worst part is she's right.

Rei's third, all legs in something that barely qualifies as a dress, slit to the hip, glitter catching every movement. She's grinning, that impish expression that makes you forget she acts cute half the time, and now you understand why.

Wonyoung.

Jang fucking Wonyoung.Where do you even start.

She steps out and the room forgets to breathe. You included. She's always been beautiful, always been that girl, the one everyone talks about, the one whose face launched a thousand brand deals. But tonight—she’s a whole other entity.

Her outfit is the same gold and black colorway like the others, a bra top that's more structure than fabric, high-waisted bottoms with cutouts that frame her hips, her waist, that impossible hourglass silhouette she usually hides behind pant suits and elegant dresses. Her long hair is down, wavy, catching the light like spun gold. Her eyes are lined dark, smoky, the kind of look that promises things she's never been allowed to promise before.

She's not looking at the audience. She's looking through them, past them, like she's already somewhere else. Like she's already the woman she's trying to become.

You almost miss Liz because Wonyoung's presence is still processing in your brain, but she demands attention in her own way. Softer curves, sweeter face, but the rougher makeup and designer outfit doesn't lie: plunging neckline, thigh-high slits, everything designed to show exactly what they've been hiding.

Last is Leeseo, and she shouldn't be anywhere near something like this; she's young, too innocent, too pure—but there she is, gold chains crisscrossing her stomach, in shorts that barely qualify as such, and she's smiling like she knows exactly what she's doing.

The music starts. 

It starts normally; it's just XOXZ. You're expecting the usual, and for the most part it is: they're hitting choreo beats like it's just another practice routine. The crowd watches in reverent silence, but a quick glance at their eyes reveal something more: controlled, intricate observation, the one reserved for judging, deep evaluation.

But after that oh-so memorable bridge, something shifts. There's a change in the instrumental, a new dance break, something you haven't seen even in concert fancams.

Gaeul hits a drop and the audience cheers. Not the typical polite applause, but something rawer, hungrier. One often heard and seen in foreign outings.

Regardless, you can't look away.

Wonyoung takes center stage and the lights seem to bend toward her, gold catching on her skin, on the glitter dusted across her collarbones, on the chains that move with every breath. She dances like no one's watching, which is insane because everyone's watching, because you're watching, because you can't not watch. Her presence naturally draws you in.

Then, she rolls her hips and your brain short-circuits.

"This is—" 

You don't realize you've spoken aloud until Wonbin answers.

"Real." He's not watching the stage. He's watching you, that amused expression back in full force. "Told you."

"But they're—" You gesture helplessly at the stage, at the girls, at everything. "They're IVE."

"And now they're IVE doing something different,” he shrugs. "Labels know what sells. And what sells in rooms like this?" Another gesture at the crowd, at the men in suits and women in dresses, at the glittering wealth surrounding them. "Not cute concepts, that's for sure."

You should be bothered by what you're seeing. Hell, you probably are, somewhere underneath the sheer overwhelming what the fuck of the moment. But right now, with the bass thrumming through your chest and Wonyoung spinning into Yujin's arms, bodies pressing together in ways that would break the internet if anyone had a camera and Twitter on standby—

Right now, you're just a fan.

A fan who's never been to a concert. Never been to a fanmeet. Never been closer to his idols other than a screen and a dream.

"This—this is—" 

You try again, fail again.

"My gift to you." Wonbin's answer is softer now, more genuine. "For all the times you helped me when you didn't have to. For being my friend when most people just want my wallet." 

He raises his glass again. "Happy early birthday. Or something. I don’t know."

You look at him—really look at him—and for once the expensive clothes, the easy confidence, the casual wealth all seem to fade away. He's just your friend. The one who actually paid attention.

Somehow, you manage to say something. It's simple, but the most resonant.

"Thank you.”

Wonbin grins and nods along. "Don't thank me yet. Performance just started. We haven’t gotten to the best part." 

Tilting his head toward the stage, Yujin's executing a move that should be illegal in at least 27 countries. "Just so you know, Yujin and Wonyoung are mine tonight."

You laugh. Actually laugh, to let something loose in your chest.

"In your dreams."

"In this club?" He raises an eyebrow. "Dreams are the bare minimum."

The music swells. The sextet hits a collective pose that makes the crowd roar. And you sit there, like the typical average college student in his best button-down, surrounded by wealth and glitter and things you never thought you'd see, watching your bias perform in an outfit that would break the internet if anyone could prove it existed.

This isn't real. This can't be real.

But Rei’s hand is on Liz’s waist, and Rei’s looking at the audience with eyes that know exactly what she's doing, and the bass is still thrumming, and your glass is sweating in your hand, and—

"Is this real?" you ask again, quieter, even though you’ve started believing.

Wonbin doesn't answer right away. He's watching the stage, something complicated in his expression. Then he looks at you, and the grin is back, but softer.

"It's real, dude. Welcome to the deep end."

You don't chance a look at him. You’re too focused on the performance to care about anything else. The music hits another drop. They turn on their heels and pose again. Wonyoung winks—with that specific smile, the one that launched a thousand ships—and you realize you've unknowingly been smiling back, even though you’re nowhere near her line of sight.

You've seen Kitsch a hundred times. Watched the music video until the algorithm gave up suggesting anything else, studied fancams like you were preparing for an exam, memorized every angle, every expression, every carefully placed hair flip. You thought you knew it. You thought you understood what the song was, what it meant, what it could do.

When in fact, you didn't know a damn thing.

On this stage, with these lights, in these outfits, Kitsch becomes something else entirely. Something that shouldn't exist outside of private fantasies and late-night internet rabbit holes you'd never admit to.

Wonyoung hits the opening verse and the crowd feels it. Something that vibrates through the floor and up your spine and settles somewhere in your chest like a second heartbeat. She moves differently here—sharper, looser, like the constraints of broadcast regulations have been stripped away along with the layers of fabric. Her hips roll with the bass and you catch yourself holding your breath.

Beside you, Wonbin taps his glass in rhythm, entirely at ease. Comfortably settled in his element.

Told you, his expression says without speaking.

You don't acknowledge him. Your eyes are firmly glued to the stage, to Gaeul, to Yujin sliding into frame behind her, hands finding hips in a way that would send fans into cardiac arrest if anyone could capture it.

Thank God they can't. No cameras. No proof. Just this moment, this room, these people.

Just you, watching your bias wrecker emerge from the wings.

Rei takes her mark and something in your chest lurches.

She's always been the dangerous one—at least for you. The one who made you second-guess your loyalties when Wonyoung had been your bias since debut. The one whose fancams you watched for research, obviously, and then watched again because—research. The one with that smile, that cute, playful energy, that way of looking at the camera like she knows exactly what you're thinking and finds it amusing.

In person, it's worse. So much worse.

Her outfit barely qualifies as safe: gold chains crisscrossing her neck, shorts that qualify as a suggestion more than clothing, boots that lace up to her thighs and leave most of them exposed. Her hair, shoulder length, moves with the beat, catching the light, and she's grinning—that specific grin that's quintessentially Rei, the one that says she's up to something and you're going to enjoy it whether you want to or not.

The members spread out, owning the stage in ways that feel almost aggressive. Yujin drops into a move that makes several nearby guests cheer, loud and appreciative. Wonyoung follows, her expression that perfect blend of cool disdain and come-hither that's made her the center of a thousand think pieces. Even Leeseo moves with a confidence that seems impossible for someone her age, or maybe that's exactly the point. 

Maybe this is what happens when the cameras are off, when the only audience is the one in front of you, when the only thing that matters is the moment itself.

You're vaguely aware of the condensation dripping onto your pants. Of Wonbin saying something you don't catch because Rei is right there, working the edge of the stage, her eyes scanning the crowd like she's looking for someone.

Like she's looking for you.

Don't be ridiculous.

But then her gaze pauses. Flickers. Lands. On you.

You freeze.

It's just a second—maybe less—but in that brief moment, something passes between you. Not recognition, because why would she recognize you—some random guy in a cheap button-down that looks out of place in a crowd of wealth and entitlement—but acknowledgment. Like she's seen you, actually seen you, in a room full of people trained to look through each other.

Before it fully registers, she moves on, and you can breathe again.

"Bro." Wonbin cuts through the fog. "Did she just—"

"No."

"I totally saw that."

"You saw nothing."

He laughs, low and knowing. "Sure, man. Whatever helps you sleep tonight."

You try to refocus on the stage, on the performance, on anything except the fact that Rei looked at you. But your heart won't cooperate, beating wildly like you've found the love of your life, and your hands feel weirdly numb, and—

The song ends. You don't remember anything in those three minutes or so other than Rei catching you and the members being sexy beyond comprehension. Nevertheless, the crowd applauds, respectful, but it feels different: warmer, more engaged. Like the atmosphere’s shifted.

The stage lights shift too, softening from the bright gold of the opening into something warmer, more intimate. The bass deepens. A new track starts, and it takes you a second to place it, not even the obvious intro with the painfully distinct sample—

The members fan out again, but this time they're not staying on stage. They're moving into the crowd.

You watch, transfixed, as Yujin approaches a table near the front. She doesn't perform so much as preside. That infectious energy fully deployed, chin lifted, eyes half-lidded as she runs a hand through her hair and lets the movement draw attention to every line of her body. The man at the table—older, silver-haired, wearing a watch that probably costs a house—smiles like he's been given a gift.

Wonyoung drifts toward another cluster of guests, and the room seems to tilt in her direction. She's all angles tonight: sharp cheekbones, sharper gaze, that impossible silhouette showcased by the cutouts in her outfit. She doesn't have to try. She just has to exist, and the effect is as impactful.

Gaeul works the opposite side of the room, more graceful and delicate than the others, her natural energy translating even in this context. Leeseo follows her lead, young but not young, if you understand—smiling, waving, letting her gaze linger just long enough to make an impression. 

Liz moves with more restraint. You notice it immediately, the way she holds herself, the careful control in every gesture. She's attractive, undeniably so, but there's something disciplined about her approach. Something that says I'm here because I have to be, not because I want to be. Not coldness, exactly, not quite. More like professionalism taken to its logical extreme.

And Rei—

Rei is making her way toward your side of the room. She's just—she's working the crowd. It's not—

But she's not stopping at any of the tables she passes. Not lingering near the businessmen with their expensive watches and hungry eyes. Not even glancing at the celebrities half-cloaked in shadow.

She's coming toward you.

"Oh my God," Wonbin mutters, and he sounds genuinely shocked. "She's actually—"

"Shut up."

"You shut up. This is amazing."

You shut up. Can't move either. Can't do anything except sit there, frozen, as Rei weaves through the final few tables and comes to a stop directly in front of you.

Up close, she's—different. Not in a bad way. In a way that makes you realize how flat screens are, how impossible it is to capture the reality of a person through pixels and compression. She's smaller than you expected, more compact, but there's nothing little about her presence. She takes up space without trying, fills the air around her with something that feels almost electric.

And she's looking at you.

Again.

Still.

"Hi," she mumbles, carefully maneuvering her microphone to avoid making unnecessary noise, and she sounds exactly what you imagined in person—bright, a little mischievous, carrying that hint of playfulness that's made her your bias wrecker since day one. "Enjoying the show?"

You open your mouth. Nothing comes out.

Rei's smile widens. She's close enough that you can see the glitter on her cheekbones, the individual strands of hair that have escaped whatever styling product they used, the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she's genuinely amused.

"Cat got your tongue?" She tilts her head, the movement sending the gold chains shifting across her neck. "That's okay. I like shy ones."

Behind you, Wonbin makes a sound that might be a laugh or might be him choking. You can't check. Not when Naoi Rei's gaze is all over you.

She moves then—not away, but into the space between you and the table. Close enough that if you reached out, you could touch her. Close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off her skin, catch the faint scent of whatever perfume they use backstage. Close enough that this is definitely, absolutely, undeniably real.

The club remix of Attitude pulses through the room, but all you can hear is your own heartbeat racing.

Rei starts to move with the music. Not the full choreography—just a sway, a roll of her hips, a slow drag of her hands down her own body that captures your eyes whether you want them drawn or not. She's performing for you. Specifically, deliberately, unmistakably for you.

"Like what you see?" she whispers, tilting her gaze over to you, and there's that grin again, the one that says she knows exactly what she's doing.

You manage a nod. Barely.

She laughs, bright and genuine, and for a moment the performance drops away and she's just Rei—the girl from the variety shows, the one who makes silly jokes, runs the Tiktok account like her own personal canvas, and gets teased by the members and can't always keep a straight face during serious moments. Then it's back, the professional effortlessly veneer sliding into place, but you saw it. You saw her.

"We have a song later," she says, leaning in slightly, close enough that you could count her eyelashes if your brain was functioning well enough for math. "Special one. Never performed before. Hope you stick around for it."

"I—" 

Your voice cracks. Actually cracks, like you're fifteen again and going through puberty for the second time. "Yeah. I mean. Yes. I'll—I'm not going anywhere."

Rei's smile softens, just a fraction. "Good."

She reaches out—reaches out—and touches your shoulder. Just a brief press of fingers, light enough that you might imagine it, but you don't imagine it because you feel it, feel the contact like a brand through the fabric of your cheap button-down.

Then she's gone, gliding away to rejoin the others, and you're left staring at empty space with your heart trying to escape your chest, trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened.

"Bro." Wonbin chokes in disbelief. "Bro, what the fuck."

"I don't—"

"That was—she touched you. She came all the way over here and performed just for you and then she touched you."

"I know."

"Do you realize—do you have any idea—"

"No." You cut him off, because if you have to think about what just happened, you might actually pass out. "I don't. I can't. Just—give me a second."

Wonbin laughs out loud, drawing a few stray, distracted glances from nearby tables. "Take all the time you need, man. I'm just gonna sit here and enjoy watching you have a crisis."

You don't pay attention to anything or anyone other than Rei; they're back on stage now, taking their places for the next formation, and for an incredibly brief moment she glances your way again. Just a flicker of eye contact, but she smiles.

The performance continues. You watch and observe, but you're not really there anymore, not in the way you were before. 

Every movement Rei makes feels pointed. Every glance toward your section of the room feels deliberate. You know it's probably not true. She's a professional doing her job, working the crowd, giving everyone in this room what they paid for and then some.

But knowing doesn't stop you from feeling.

The next song blends into the next. You recognize fragments—bits of choreography and sections from I Am, Love Dive, After Like—but everything's rearranged, remixed, reimagined into a composite medley specifically for this space, this audience, this night. The members move through the crowd in waves; different girls approaching different tables, and you watch Liz make her way toward your side of the room with a different energy than Rei brought.

Liz's charisma is controlled, precise. Every gesture measured, every expression calibrated. She's beautiful—of course she's beautiful, they all are—but there's something almost clinical in her approach. Like she's performing a role rather than being herself. You remember reading somewhere that she's more reserved off-stage, that the other members have to draw her out of her shell. 

Maybe that's what you're seeing. Perhaps the discipline is a shield.

She stops a few feet from your table, close enough to acknowledge but not enough to engage. Her eyes sweep over you and Wonbin, taking you in, quickly assessing. Then she gives a small nod—almost imperceptible—and moves on to the next table.

"Friendly," Wonbin remarks.

"She's just—that's how she is."

"You know her personally now?"

"I'm a fan. You get to know these things."

He snorts, but there's no malice behind it. "Right. Well, your girl Rei seems to have adopted you. Liz is just doing her job."

Your girl Rei. His comment lodges somewhere in your chest and refuses to leave.

The performance builds toward something. You can feel it in the way the energy shifts, the way the members start to converge back on the stage, the way the lighting deepens from bright and colorful into something darker, more intimate. The crowd feels it too; conversations trail off, glasses pause halfway to lips, every eye turns toward the stage.

The music stops.

For a moment, there's silence. Complete, absolute silence in a room full of people, which shouldn't be possible but somehow is.

Then a new track starts.

It's not like anything you've heard from them before. Heavier, darker, fusing western elements with a dirty, grungy bass line that seems to vibrate in your bones rather than your ears. Synths that build and swell and demand.

And then Leeseo's voice kicks in, and you realize—this is brand new. This is unreleased.

The crowd loses it. Not loudly; this isn't that kind of crowd. But you feel the shift, the sudden intensity of attention, the way every person in the room leans forward slightly, collectively, like they're all straining toward the stage.

Their choreography looks different. Sharper. More aggressive in a way that makes the earlier performances look almost tame. The members move like they're fighting something—or someone—bodies slicing through space with a precision that borders on violence.

The song builds to its first chorus and the bass hits, hard enough that you feel it in your teeth. The lights strobe. The members explode into quick, precise movement.

And you just sit there, average college student in his best button-down, watching your favorite group perform a song that doesn't officially exist in a club that doesn't officially exist for an audience that will never be able to prove any of it happened.

This isn't real. But it is. It's 100% real. 

You know because your hands are shaking, because your heart's been racing for the last 45 minutes or so, you've stopped following, because Rei shoots a glance your way during a brief pause in the choreography and winks.

Before you can fully comprehend the song, it ends. The lights come up, soft and warm again, and the members take their positions at the front of the stage. They bow—that familiar idol bow, the one you've seen a thousand times in a thousand different contexts—and for a moment, they're just IVE again. The group you've followed for years. The girls whose content got you through late nights and stressful exams.

Their message is brief: they thank the audience for being here and enjoying themselves, tell everyone they'll be back with new music in the coming months, and to shower them with continuous love and support. It doesn't register till the very last second that the new song they performed is called Bang Bang, even though it's literally all over the damn lyrics and Yujin mentioned it herself. 

"First time anywhere," she said. "Please look forward to the official release."

Then they straighten their postures, and Wonyoung waves—that specific wave, the one that makes fans lose their minds—and they start to file off stage. The main event is over.

The crowd applauds. Respectful, classy. Then the regular subdued club music kicks back in. Conversations restart. Glasses are raised.

Meanwhile, you sit there, utterly still, utterly overwhelmed by—well, everything.

"So," Wonbin cuts through the fog. "Thoughts?"

You turn to look at him. He's watching you with that expression again—amused, knowing, but underneath it something softer. Something that might be genuine happiness at your happiness.

"I—" You stop. Start again. "That was—"

"Yeah."

"I don't have words."

"Didn't think you would." He leans back, spreading his arms along the top of the booth. "But hey. At least you know it was real, right? Your girl Rei definitely noticed you."

Your girl Rei. There it is again. Somehow, you want to believe it, no matter how delusional and stupid it sounds.

"She was just—she was doing her job."

"Sure." He drawls the word, stretching it into three syllables. "That's why she came all the way across the room to perform specifically at our table. That's why she touched you. That's why she winked at you during the finale. All in the name of professionalism."

You don't have an answer for that. Because deep down, he's right, and you know he's right and you have no idea what to do with that information.

Wonbin watches you struggle for a moment, then laughs and pats you on the shoulder. "Relax, man. I'm just giving you a hard time. But seriously—that was something. Even by this club's high standards, that was something."

You nod, because you've got no words. Because it's the safest response.

People are moving between tables now, networking or whatever it is rich people do in spaces like this. A few of them, fresh faces, ones even Wonbin doesn’t know, glance your way—probably wondering who you are, how you rate, why you're here.

You don't care. Your mind is still looking at the stage, thinking about Rei, on the impossible fact that she looked at you, saw you, touched you.

"She's right, you know." Wonbin pulls you back from your haze. "About sticking around."

"What?"

"The song. The new one. She said they had a special song and hoped you'd stick around for it." He raises an eyebrow. "You stuck around. She noticed."

"I—she was just—"

"You keep saying that." He sets down his glass, turning to face you fully. "Look. I don't know what happens after these things. I've stayed for the mingling before, but I've never—I've never had one of them come to me like that. Not like that. So I'm not gonna pretend I know what it means."

You wait. There's more coming, you can feel it.

"But I do know that you deserve this." He insists, just slightly begging—like you're doing him another favor by letting him have this one night. "You spend all your time helping everyone else. School, work, me—you're always the one giving. So if tonight, for whatever reason, one of your favorite idols decided to give something back?" He shrugs. "Take it. Enjoy it. Don't overthink it."

Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one standing inches from Rei while she moved to music meant only for this room. He wasn't the one who felt her fingers on his shoulder, brief but electric.

But he's not wrong either.

"Thanks," you manage. "For bringing me. For—all of it."

Wonbin grins, the moment of sincerity passing as quickly as it came. "Don't thank me yet."

You frown. "What do you mean?"

He leans forward, eyes glittering with that look you've learned to recognize—the one that means he knows something you don't, and he's about to enjoy telling you.

"The performance," he starts, "is just the first part."

You heard him the first time; you just need confirmation.

"I already told you,” he gestures vaguely toward the back of the stage where the members disappeared. "They mingle. Meet people. It's part of the deal—why these groups do these shows. Connections. Networking. Opportunities. Aside from the huge pay, of course."

Your brain, already struggling to process the last hour or so, grinds to a complete halt.

"You're saying—"

"I'm saying they haven't even come out yet." He settles back, clearly enjoying your reaction. "The show's over. Now the real night begins."

You look toward the stage, toward the wings where IVE exited, toward the velvet-curtained area beyond that might be a green room or might be something else entirely.

The performance was one thing. Unreal, impossible, but contained. A show. Something you could watch from a distance, even when that distance shrank to mere inches.

But meeting them, talking to them, being in the same room as them, not as audience and performer, but as—

"That's the best part," Wonbin adds, carrying a weight you don't fully understand yet. "Trust me. You haven't experienced anything yet."

All around you, nightlife continues as usual; glasses clink, laughter rises and falls. Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, pretending to be a shadow of someone you're not, in a place you clearly don't belong, holding a glass that's long since gone warm, waiting for a night that apparently isn't over yet.

The members emerge from the side of the stage like they're walking into a fansign, all smiles and waves and that practiced idol grace that makes everything look effortless. Gaeul first, because she's always first, leading with that quiet confidence that's made her the group's silent anchor. Leeseo follows, bouncing slightly, unable to completely suppress her natural energy even in a room like this. Then Yujin, and you watch her shift seamlessly into leader mode: scanning the room, assessing, already calculating the best way to work this crowd.

Wonyoung glides out next, and the room seems to gravitate toward her, as always. The way light catches her features, the way she holds herself, the way her presence demands without asking—it's the kind of thing that makes you understand why she's where she is, why she's who she is.

Liz follows, more reserved, her smile polite but contained. She's scanning the place too, but differently than Yujin: less strategic, more cautious. Like she's reading the room to figure out where she fits rather than how to work it.

And then, Rei. She emerges last, and your chest does something complicated. They're still in their bold, risque stage outfits, but her features soften to the one seen in cameras and in her funny TikToks. She looks younger like this, more approachable. Like the girl from the variety shows, the one who can't always keep a straight face during games, the one whose laugh makes you laugh even when you don't know why.

But there's still that edge. That hint of mischief in the way she holds herself, the way her eyes scan the crowd like she's looking for someone.

Looking for you.

You know it's probably not true. Again, you're reminding yourself she's just doing her job, working the room, making key connections. But when her gaze finds yours across the space—across the clusters of wealthy patrons and glittering celebrities and all the people who belong here in ways you don't—and she smiles, that specific Rei smile, the one that crinkles her eyes at the corners—

"Yeah," Wonbin mutters beside you. "She's definitely not looking for you. Totally professional."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying." He laughs, low and easy, settling deeper into the booth. "Relax. They'll get to us eventually. Gotta work the room first." He gestures vaguely at the crowd surrounding the girls. "Big fish, bigger wallets, all that. We're the dessert course."

You watch as the members fan out, each gravitating toward different groups of guests. Gaeul goes toward a table of older men—executives of some kind, you assume, given the Rolexes on their wrists and the posture and the way they receive her like she's a business proposal wrapped in grace. She handles it beautifully, all poise and polish, every gesture measured.

Leeseo bounces between tables, her natural cheerfulness persisting even in this radical, unyielding environment. She's the youngest, but she carries herself well, disarming people with that friendly smile before they can think too hard about why she's here.

Yujin works the room like she's running for office. Handshakes, eye contact, that natural presence that makes you want to believe in whatever she's selling. She pauses at a table near the center, engages in conversation that seems genuinely mutual, and you catch yourself thinking that's why she's the leader.

Wonyoung doesn't work so much as receive. People line up to her. Quite literally. You watch it happen in real time; a small queue forms as guests wait for their moment with her. She handles each interaction with that perfect blend of warmth and distance that's made her the industry's most untouchable asset.

Liz moves more cautiously, sticking to the edges, speaking briefly before moving on. She's polite, professional. But there's something held back, something reserved, and you remember reading interviews where she talked about being shy, about needing time to warm up to people. This must be hard for her, you realize. This must cost something.

Rei works the room like she's playing a game. She spends a little longer at each table, a little more playful, a little more present. You watch her make a group of businessmen laugh at something, watch her touch a woman's arm in a gesture of genuine connection, watch her move through the space like she's known it her whole life.

But every so often, her eyes flick your way. Just a glance. Just a check. And every time, she smiles.

"She's definitely not waiting to get to us," Wonbin comments. "Totally professional interest in our table. Very business."

"Can you not?"

"Absolutely not. This is the most entertainment I've had in months."

You try to ignore him. Try to focus on anything except the slow progression of idols through the room, the way they're getting closer table by table, the way your heart rate climbs with each passing minute.

The men at the table nearest you are deep in conversation with Gaeul and Leeseo now, their usual composed demeanor cracking slightly in the presence of actual idols. One of them—silver-haired, expensively suited—actually blushes when Leeseo directs a comment his way. You file that away for later, for the part of your brain that will need proof this was real.

Then they move onto the next table. And the next. 

Closer. Getting closer.

"I've got dibs," Wonbin says, not for the first time. "Yujin and Wonyoung. Don't forget."

"How could I forget? You've only mentioned it like a dozen times."

"Just making sure. You're distracted."

You are. You know you are. Because Rei is at the table directly adjacent now, close enough that you can hear the cadence of her accent, catch fragments of her conversation. She's speaking in Korean, rapid and fluid, and your brain—trained on years of content with subtitles—strains to catch words you might recognize.

She laughs at something, bright and genuine, and the sound does something to your chest.

Then the table's conversation ends. They stand, exchange pleasantries, move on.

Rei turns. Looks directly at you. Smiles. And starts walking toward your table.

"Oh shit," Wonbin mutters. "Here they come."

They, as in all six of IVE. Because Yujin's broken away from her cluster too, Wonyoung's gliding in their wake, Liz is trailing slightly behind, and somehow—by sheer universal fate—all of them are converging on your table at once.

You don't remember exactly when you stood up, but suddenly you're standing, which means you feel tall, that you're clearly visible. There's nowhere to hide even if you wanted to disappear.

You don't want to. You want to be here. You want to see this. You just didn't expect to be seen.

Rei greets you, close enough that you could reach out and touch her. She's stopped a few feet away, giving you space, but her eyes are right there, meeting yours without hesitation. "Hi again."

"Hi," you manage. The word, when it comes out, sounds strange. Distant.

"You stayed."

"I—yeah. I said I would."

Her smile widens. "You did. I remember."

Yujin steps forward, unassuming, and her presence shifts the dynamic immediately. Suddenly, she feels like the most imposing person in the room, demanding your attention but in reality, her features show warmth. Still, her eyes move at a pace that quickly assesses you from head to toe.

"So you're the one," she says, vague.

You blink. "The one?"

"The one Rei couldn't stop talking about." She throws an amused look at Rei. "Someone caught her attention tonight."

Rei's cheeks flush—actually glow, visible even in the dim lighting—and she swats at Yujin's arm. "Unnie."

"What? It's true."

You stand there, frozen, as the reality of this moment crashes over you. Yujin is teasing Rei. About you. In front of you. 

Wonyoung drifts closer, elegant as always, and her presence adds another layer to the overwhelming tableau. She doesn't speak immediately; just observes, her gaze thoughtful.

Then Liz steps forward, and her expression is different from the others—more curious, more direct. She looks at you like she's trying to figure something out.

"You're a fan," she remarks. It's not a question.

"I—yeah. I am. Have been since debut."

Liz's expression softens. "It's nice to meet a real one. Here." She gestures practically at the room, at the wealth and privilege surrounding them. "It's different. Usually. Older guys and all."

You nod because it's the safest option. "I didn't know this existed. My friend—" You glance at Wonbin, who's watching with barely concealed amusement, "he brought me. Said it was a gift."

"A gift." Yujin's eyebrow lifts. The words sound odd in this environment. "Interesting choice of gift."

"Best gift I've ever gotten," you admit, and it's true, and saying it makes it somehow more real.

Rei beams at that. Actually beams, like you've said something that made her genuinely happy.

Wonyoung speaks for the first time, carrying that particular quality that makes everything she says sound important. She's looking at Rei mostly, but her eyes flick to you briefly. "He's been watching you all night. Very intently."

"Wonyoung," Rei protests, but there’s no bite.

"What? It's true. I saw."

Now you're the one blushing. You can feel it, the heat climbing your neck, settling in your cheeks. This is mortifying. This is also, somehow, the best moment of your life.

Wonbin, sensing an opportunity to make things worse, leans forward. "He's got a poster. Of you," he points at Rei. "On his wall. Right next to his bed."

"Wonbin. Are you fucking serious—" you try to speak, but the words gradually die on your mouth.

"What? It's relevant." He shrugs, grinning like this is all part of his twisted plan.

Rei's eyes go wide, then crinkle when she laughs. "A poster? Really?"

"I—it's from the Season's Greetings photobook. 2025. The limited edition, the one with the—" You stop because you're rambling, because somehow, you're explaining your poster placement to an actual member of IVE—your goddamn bias, even—because your life has become unrecognizable in the span of a few hours.

But Rei's still smiling. Still looking at you like you're not just another stranger in a room full of them.

"That's sweet," she says. "Really. That means a lot."

Liz shifts beside her, and something in her expression changes. She's watching you with renewed interest, like you've become slightly more dimensional than before.

"You have good taste," she offers, quiet, genuine.

"Liz stole my heart too," you then say, and the words are out before you can stop, before you can filter them, before you can do anything except watch them land.

For a moment, silence again.

Then Rei laughs, absolutely delighted, and the sound breaks the tension like glass.

"Stole his heart," she repeats, eyes dancing back and forth between you and her. "Liz, did you hear that? You stole his heart."

Liz's cheeks flush pink, but she's smiling—actually smiling, that genuine one that transforms her whole face. "I didn't mean to."

"Too late," Wonbin chimes in. "He's been compromised. Both of you. He doesn't stand a chance."

Yujin snorts—actually snorts, which is so unexpected that you stare. "Your friend is funny."

"He's insufferable," you correct, but there's no heat behind it. Not when Rei is still laughing, not when Liz is smiling at you like you're not a complete stranger.

Wonyoung tilts her head, studying you with that unreadable expression. "You're different," she remarks, brushing her long hair with a hand. "From the others here."

It's not a question, but you answer anyway. "I'm not supposed to be here. I'm—" You wave at yourself, at your pants and sneakers and the shirt that suddenly feels inadequate in a dozen new ways. "This isn't my world."

"Maybe that's why." 

She doesn't explain further; just lets the implication hang. They understand the situation: you're an anomaly standing in a room full of wealth and privilege, talking to IVE like they're just people, like this is normal.

None of it is. But you don't want it to end.

"We should keep moving," Yujin then says regretfully. "Other guests. You know how it is."

You nod. Of course. They have to work the room, have to make connections, have to do the thing they're here to do. You're not the only person in this space.

"I understand."

Rei's expression flickers—something passing through her eyes too fast to read. She glances at Liz, and something passes between them, some silent communication you're not meant to understand.

Then she steps closer. Close enough that you can see the individual strands of her eyelashes, the slight shimmer of residual glitter on her cheekbones, the way her lips part slightly before she speaks.

"Stay," she says, quiet, intimate, meant only for you.

You blink rapidly. "What?"

Rei leans in, close enough that her breath ghosts against your ear. "Don't leave. We'll come back. For you."

Before you can respond, before you can process, she's pulling back, smiling that playful smile, and Liz is beside her, and they're moving away, rejoining the others, disappearing into the crowd of guests who have no idea what just happened or have a clue about your conversation.

You stand there, frozen, your heart pounding once more.

"What did she say?" Wonbin snaps you back before it can fully sink in."What did she—"

"She said to stay. That they'd come back. For me."

Wonbin's eyebrows climb toward his hairline. "No shit?"

"No shit."

He processes this for a moment, then grins—wide and genuine and slightly wicked. "Well, then. You heard them."

"I—what do I—"

"You stay. Obviously." He stands, patting you on the shoulder. It feels—celebratory. "I, meanwhile, have a date with Yujin and Wonyoung."

"You can't just—"

"Watch me."

And he does. Wonbin weaves through the crowd with that natural rich man swagger, and you watch as he intercepts Yujin and Wonyoung near the bar, jaws drop as they turn to him, as something passes between them that ends with all three moving toward a different part of the club.

He's really doing it. He's really—

"Still here."

You turn around, and every time you find them, it never feels real.

Rei and Liz. Both of them, standing close, close enough that you're acutely aware of the space between you.

"You stayed," says Rei, and there's something different when she talks. Softer, more direct, but anxious.

"You asked me to."

Liz steps forward. Her hand finds yours—as in, actually wraps her fingers, intertwining like it's the most natural thing in the world. Her skin feels warm, soft, real.

"We should go," she suggests quietly. "Somewhere quieter."

Your heart stops. Kicks back to life.

You should say no. Tell them watching their performance, sharing a small conversation, no matter how brief, is more than enough. You understand your place as a fan, and you'll respect their boundaries as idols. Instead, Rei's glinting eyes and Liz holding your hand just that little bit tighter tell you that the night is nowhere close to being over.

A nod of agreement, and you follow them, hand in tow as Rei leads the way.

Around you, conversations about everything and anything happen in the background; no one cares that you've essentially snuck away from the main hall and into one of many dark, sparkling hallways. The others are nowhere in sight; Yujin and Wonyoung are with Wonbin, Gaeul and Leeseo with God knows who. Rei and Liz are muttering something between themselves, muffled by the low thrumming bass pervading even in this confined space. 

Eventually, they find an unoccupied room near the dead-end of the hallway. The choice is intentional; they care about privacy the most. Rei slides the door open. Liz takes you inside, and Rei shuts it behind you, turning the knob and pulling the drapes closed.

Unsurprisingly, the lounge is lavish: a large, half-crescent couch circles half the room dominates the rear. A television with a panel containing several buttons below sits on the leftmost side of the room and a bathroom adjacent to the right. An ice bucket stacked with a bottle of champagne and wine glasses sits at the center table, ready for immediate consumption, and at the side, a mini fridge with extra beverages awaits for those seeking seconds.

You're overwhelmed by the luxury of it all that you don't realize Liz has disappeared from view, having let go of your hand. Turning around, the two women are standing mere inches from you, their eyes gleaming under the pale white light.

"I feel like we owe you an explanation," Rei starts. She sounds nervous and shy, nothing like the quirky idol you were talking to minutes ago.

"Yeah," Liz adds, matching her tone, though she’d been acting the part the whole time. "We thought—we should at least be honest about—all this. About what's happening."

Nothing seems to register. Just more questions run through your head. You dare not to speak.

"So—about that friend of yours—" says, slowly twiddling her fingers, "Wonbin, was it—"

"Yeah?" you interrupt before she can finish. Somehow, they know his name. It probably spreads around these circles fast, to be fair. People who likely pay specifically to meet these idols—and considering he's with Yujin and Wonyoung right now—

"He paid us."

Her answer catches you off guard. No preamble, just an immediate revelation. One you should have expected given the circumstances, but it doesn't shock you any less.

"Huh?"

"To bring you here, specifically." Liz then speaks on her member's behalf. "To spend time with you. Alone."

"We didn't know where else to start," Rei continues. "If you were a fan or not. Or if you'd recognize us."

"Which, you did," Liz clarifies. "Like, a lot. I saw the guests' expressions when we went over to you."

"You're a big deal, apparently," Rei quips, but it comes out half-hearted. "I thought he was joking."

You're still speechless.

"It's not our fault," says Rei. "I didn't think he was serious when he said he's bringing a fan tonight."

"Well, not really. No." Liz continues. "We're sorry. Really."

"Sorry, yeah," Rei adds. "We're truly sorry. Wonbin just told us to entertain you. And that's what we are doing right now."

"But, it wasn't fake. Everything," says Liz. "It was real. All of it. I promise."

"Promise."

Of course it's probably real to them. Wonbin's probably paying them by the hour—who knows at this point. Easier to maintain a lie than to continue with the truth, like applying a bandaid to a wound.

"I—" you start, but nothing follows. Your gaze tilts upward, at the pervading light, before falling back to theirs. Somehow, it feels sincere, genuine, everything they’ve said. They're looking at each other, expressions pained at having to pull the carpet so abruptly. "I—I understand."

The shift is instantaneous; one second they're genuine, remorseful human beings fully aware of what they've done, the next, the idol masks slip back on naturally, like it's deeply embedded in their skin. They're stepping towards you, forward for each instinctual foot you put backward till you feel the couch brush against your legs. Regardless, the regret lingers on their twitching, trembling lips.

"When we said it was real, we really meant it," Rei starts again, her eyes wide, trying to act playful, but she stops almost immediately. "Again—there are no fans in this place. Just—eyes. And bodies."

"Yeah," Liz quietly adds, carefully twiddling her fingers together, avoiding your gaze, deliberate as if you're judging how they move. "It's—not as fun as it looks. But—seeing you—reacting to us—actually enjoying yourself—" She inhales, "Wonbin was really right. He promised he'd bring us a fan, and here you are."

And Christ, they just know how to get through your heart. 

Not that it's already so susceptible after everything that's unfolded—it doesn't matter anymore if this is still part of their rehearsed script or something they'd been told, like cameras are recording this very interaction right now and they have earpieces feeding them instructions in real time, it sounds heartbreakingly sincere that you can't help but forgive.

"I—I could never get mad—" you say, shaky, low sounding, because quite frankly, you can never get upset at your bias line, even if they were trying to purposefully anger you: "I'm just—shocked. At everything. That's all. He really had this all planned out—"

"Heard he paid the club and the agency triple the talent fee specifically to get us," Rei interrupts, chuckling, her usual cheeky self returning. "Didn't realize till a week ago when he personally went to us. At the goddamn company."

"He was determined," Liz adds. "Or, rather, desperate. Said it was a special occasion and wanted to do it for a friend. Never said anything about who it was for, but thank God it was you."

"Oh, come on," Rei cuts in, rolling her eyes, but there's no malice in her tone. Only light jest. "You were thinking the same thing."

"Maybe," Liz concedes, her lips curling into a sly smile. "It's rare, though. Fans are usually—boring. Closed-minded."

"God, yes," Rei sighs. "Thank goodness the actual fans aren't here. They'd hate this. This isn't—like us. If you know what I mean."

"Anyway," Liz then insists, "I'm glad we got to know you. The real you, hopefully."

"So—what happens now?" you then ask, tilting your head, all that buzz and shock starting to die out.

"It's—up to you," answers Liz, stepping ahead of her older member. "You can walk away now. Walk past that door and call it right then and there. At least we explained ourselves, and you saw us perform, which is what you wanted."

"And at least you were happy," Rei adds. "Right?"

"Of course," you reply, finally realizing the rather cornered position these two women have you in. You inch away from the couch, but they pin you at an angle where either girl can grab you the moment you reach for the door. "Always—it's been a dream to see you live and up close—but I never expected—"

"I don't blame you," Rei interrupts, smiling, her gaze shifting with that half-teasing grin that's just—ugh. "Anyone in your shoes would be overwhelmed that we could be that hot."

"But—if you want to stay," Liz hesitantly says, her eyes darting to Rei, before settling back to you. "Please stay."

"After all," Rei continues. "We promised him to give you a memorable experience."

"And you deserve it," Liz adds, gaining some of her member's confidence. "For being such a good fan—and a good person, I guess."

Somehow, even in a tension-filled situation like this, she manages to make you burst into laughter. Rei too.

"Jiwonnie, can you not—"

"Hey." She turns to meet her member halfway, cheekily grinning. "Maybe this is still a little too much—"

They've merged onto you, now mere inches away. You can feel their breaths on your skin, their collective gaze paralyzing, magnetic, demanding your every fiber of attention. Never have you been pinned like this—and rather than fighting or trying to resist, you allow it. 

Let their presence utterly consume you. After all, that's what you deserve. Rei and Liz said it themselves.

And finally, the cherry on top: the subtle grip on your pants, on your clothed crotch—two hands, one from each member, measuring, pressing tightly on your hardening cock, only kept in check by the slacks you're wearing. Eying you head to toe, they find your buttons and zipper even in deep fabric, slowly parting them, till they can feel your staining precum through the underwear.

"So—what's it gonna be?" Rei questions, even though your mind has already decided on your behalf.

Slowly and subtly, the two girls lead you back against the couch. This time, you're freely falling back into it, completely under their spell. And your body just—surrenders.

Their response is short and sweet: "Good answer."

Rei and Liz leave you slumped on the lavish couch. Your pants partly halfway now down your legs, your body powerless and losing its will to fight completely. All you can do is watch them walk—fucking hell, they can strut—toward the TV and control center in the corner of the room, still performing, still on their A-game, like they're standing in front of thousands and not just for you.

Yet no amount of professionalism and idol training can cover their lack of knowledge with how the private VIP lounge works.

It's calm and quiet at first; just minor delays, something they can seemingly figure it out within a minute, maybe less than. Then Rei's visibly struggling with the buttons on the board, echoing out her frustration at having to pry and read the instruction manual from the cabinet below. Liz tries to help through it, but she's as equally clueless as to how anything works.

"Jeez—you'd think they'd let us inside this place during rehearsals—" Rei mutters, but Liz rubs a hand on her member's back, gently reassuring.

"C'mon, at least don't do it front of our good friend here—"

Immediately after, Liz turns her head toward you, smiling, raising the other hand. Just give us a moment. 

No words need to be said, and you'd happily wait the whole night too.

The lights inside the lounge change colors, from a simple sparkly white to a disco flurry of blue and green, before shifting to a clean gold, reminiscent of the stages they performed earlier.

"Perfect!" Rei yells out, as if she had just discovered fire. She presses a button, and music begins to reverberate on the speakers hidden in the four corners of the room.

It's that remix of Attitude from earlier; that dancey, club remix that's unassuming enough to avoid suspicion. The two take positions parallel from each other on opposing ends of the room, and much like in concert fancams you've seen online, they walk toward each other during the instrumental break, their struts seductive and deliberate. As they unite at the center, where your gaze solely fixes on them, moving like a coordinated unit, they strike a pose.

Fuck. You can barely contain yourself on that couch. If you weren't already hard before, you certainly are now. These are no longer idols, rather bodies now. Their collective gaze keeps you focused on their eyes—four piercing, daring eyes—but as you wander down, the real treat comes from their sultry, inviting gestures. 

Rei's sweeping both her hands down her ass, arching her back to accentuate her figure, barely kept together by those cheeky shorts. Liz winks directly at you. Brushes her hair with a flick of her hand, biting her lower lip, shimmies her shoulder for a little move, absolutely confident in herself. Two completely different women, both equally hot, equally arousing. During the pause where they should be walking back to the main stage, of which there is none, they meet halfway, passing an unspoken message—

And then Liz slaps Rei's ass. 

Lets one hand rest on her shorts. Rei smirks as she feels the impact. Closes her eyes, lets her friend and member tease for a bit. She angles herself that her back is facing you while Liz does the unthinkable: she undoes the zipper and slides it down. Rei finishes the job, letting it pool around her boots and revealing the matching gold underwear beneath.

She arches her back once more. Spreads it wide with her hands as the music fades in the background, becoming more like white noise at this point. Her ass is plump and firm; waist slender, the proportions just right. And her thighs are thick and meaty, perfect for squeezing and grabbing.

Liz grabs Rei's underwear, stretching it to the side, showing you her pussy, completely and utterly soaked.

"See how wet I am? I bet you just wanna touch it yourself right now, don't you?" Rei asks, but you're rendered speechless by what's unfolding. This is straight up pornography. 

Liz grins. Strokes the side of Rei's leg, running her fingers up and down her pale, creamy skin. She takes a sampler of Rei's slick and puts it into her mouth.

Then Rei suddenly kisses her. 

At this point, the two have stopped performing and are simply fucking right in front of you. Cupping each other's cheeks and all. You can see Rei reaching around the back of Liz's top, hustling for her zipper. She finds it and likewise, slides it down, giving you a glimpse of the expanse of her skin. Rei pushes it partly off her body, with Liz tossing it aside to be forgotten, now down to her black bra and matching skirt.

It's the hottest thing you've ever seen. As much as you want to get involved, you enjoy watching this.

Just as they're about to dive back into each other, Rei stops herself. She looks left and right, noting the music, remembering your presence: "Alright, this is kinda distracting."

You badly want to quip and say it's their song. Liz laughs and shakes her head.

"At least you know how to turn it off," she quips, but Rei shoots her this playful scowl that makes it worse.

She breaks free from the embrace and promptly turns it off within seconds. Turning her focus on you, Rei strides forward.

"Sorry we didn't push through with it," she remarks, smiling, but the tone is partially apologetic. "Can you imagine fucking to your own song?"

"I was about to say—" you start, your first words in a while, but she presses a finger on your lips when she climbs your lap, overpowering you, laying you down on the couch. It might as well be a bed by how wide it is. And maybe that's the point: this is where nights really and truly end.

With Rei's hand pressed on your clothed chest, Liz joins her on the couch, but not atop you. You've kicked your shoes aside at some point during their little tease, but Rei's finishing the job. Unbuttoning and parting the shirt, pants that were halfway down your legs now puddle at your ankles, along with your boxers. Your fully erect cock is now at their mercy, and they're wasting no time.

"Shit—oh fuck—" you shudder, groaning as Rei's fingers seize your cock, stroking it gently at a feverishly slow, but deliberate pace. 

"You're pretty big, aren't you?" she remarks, smiling. Sweet but devilish. "Are you sure you can handle the both of us?"

"Please. He can't," Liz teases, sitting next to your thigh, her arm draped on the headrest.

"Give him a chance. We haven't even started."

"Well, you're the one who's touching him, so—"

"Okay, fine." 

Rei's had her fill of stroking your cock. Now, her fingers are lightly dancing on your shaft, teasing, stealing that little bit of precum that would make Liz jealous. She leans down, hovering above your ear, her warm breath tantalizing. "Aren't you a lucky one, huh? Now you get to choose."

"Choose? But—" 

Another delicate squeeze from Rei's fingers when you try to speak up. An involuntary groan escapes your mouth again. She brushes the precum on your skin, lets Liz eat from her digit, then caresses her hair with it. 

It's gross; it's also hot.

"You heard me. You get one," she repeats, as if that makes it any better. You're staring at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts and ignore the stimulation.

"This is a test, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Sorta. Not really. Maybe?" Rei's trademark grin feels like an insult now. "I mean—I don't think you can handle both of us."

"Oh, come on. Don't sell him short, Rei," Liz suggests. "He can handle us. Can't you, baby?"

"I can," you insist, showing a little fight.

"I love that enthusiasm. But—enthusiasm can only get you so far," says Rei. "So you gotta choose."

"But, I can't choose," you continue, feeling Rei's grip tighten, but not painfully so. More like a challenge.

"You have to," Rei reiterates, her tone sterner yet playful.

"What if—what if I want the both of you?" you're pleading now, knowing damn well this opportunity won't present itself ever again.

"Hmmm—let's ask the other girl, shall we?"

Rei turns her gaze to Liz. They share a knowing smirk.

"I'm not sure. I don't think you can't handle the both of us," Liz responds, rubbing a hand on your thigh, making you tremble. 

"Not even for a second?" you insist.

"Nope. No exceptions," says Rei, firm and final. “So you have to choose."

"But I haven't done—" 

Another firm clasp of your cock, another pump through Rei's deft hand. She's leaving you gasping, reeling. The world suddenly feels like it's spinning on its head.

"Maybe we should pick for you," Rei suggests, and she's released your cock in place of the gold top she's wearing. 

Quickly unhooking the clasp from her back and letting the zipper fly, she lets the piece of clothing free from her body, revealing—nothing. Casually tosses it aside to the floor, her tits are fully out: shapely, lush, and as big as some of those fansites and suspect fancams have captured. Liz, feeling touchy-feely, gives one of her breasts a firm squeeze, and Rei smiles at her, warm and genuine.

You can only imagine what they are like behind closed doors, but this is as close as you can get to finding out.

As much as you want to touch them, to know how they feel in your hand, you don't. Not even move a single muscle, especially when they have you pinned like this.

"How bad do you want it?" Rei asks. Liz is still feeling her.

You shake your head, too lost for words.

"Jiwonnie, your turn." 

Rei turns to Liz, the two sharing grins back as she, in turn, unclasps her own bra, revealing her own shapely chest. She then squeezes Liz's breasts right in front of you, equally affectionate. They even exchange kisses while they're at it. 

For a moment, you're nothing. A ghost.

But they're not stopping: Rei hops off you and the couch, Liz in tow, as she gets the younger member's skirt undone, digging her nails into her black underwear as she slides it down, leaving obvious nail marks and red spots on her skin. Ruffling each other's hair, making out without a care in the world, lost in their own little reverie while you just lay there and watch.

It almost feels too intrusive. (It is.)

Mid-kiss, Liz breaks. Rests her lips on top of Rei's. Tilting her head, her gaze flickers over to you, and she remembers you exist.

"Rei," she mutters, looking at her. "Still here—"

"Huh?" Rei has forgotten you completely. It takes Liz pointing you at her for her to realize. And when she realizes, she genuinely has no fucking clue.

"Oh, shit—sorry, babe." She's blushing, cheeks flustered all over in red. "We got carried away, didn't we?"

You lift an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah, kinda."

"We're not used to having an audience—at all."

"The members don't hear you?" you joke. "In that dorm?"

"Shhhh. Don't tell anyone," Liz insists, laughing. "They do. Just—"

"Let's not ruin the illusion, okay?" Rei interjects, patting Liz's arms, redirecting her member's gaze to her.

"Right."

"Besides, I thought you wanted the both of us." 

The two women turn their attention back to you. Their gazes are otherworldly; one moment they look sweet, picture perfect, a frame worthy of cameras and adoring fans. The next: sultry, sensual, lethal. "So—have you—"

"Yes," you reply, not needing to finish the question.

Rei and Liz saunter back to the couch, taking their places on your lap and between your legs, respectively.

Propping you against the back of the cushions, sitting you upright, their laughs hauntingly fill the space between you and them. Then, the hands come back to claim their stake: one from each idol, stroking your cock, sometimes intertwining fingers, padding their digits with more of your precum. Your helpless, low groans complement their satisfied, playful giggles. 

"Feels good to play with an actual cock for once." Rei gives your shaft a light, playful slap, like messing with a guitar. Enough to knock the little wind off your sails. "God, I wasn't ready to waste a second dildo in a month—"

"Shhh." Liz makes the silence gesture, smiling gently at Rei. "He doesn't need to know that."

Rei dips her head down as she tilts you forward. Your face melts against her firm, heavenly chest. Squeezing them comes naturally; they feel warm and handful, molded like they were meant for you. Her cute little moans fill the air, undeniably stimulated and aroused. Meanwhile, Liz has taken a seat next to you, brushing the skin of your shoulder blades, slowly, softly, like a feather.

"How do they feel?" she palms the back of your scalp, driving you in further.

Somehow, you manage to utter a single word against her suffocating skin: "Good."

"That's not a proper answer, You can do better than that."

"Great."

"Still not enough."

"They're the best—Rei—"

"Mhm. There we go."

She's grinding on you now, eyes fluttering shut, chest heaving, hips rolling up and down your skin in a slow, decadent rhythm that makes you wish she was actually bouncing on your cock than merely teasing. But it doesn't matter; not when you have your hands all over tits, pinching her nipples, sucking, indulging in them. 

"Fuck," is all that escapes Rei's mouth as her grip on your skull loosens. Liz observes intently, biting her lip, resting her head on her chin, like she were studying and not preparing to take you next. Your face is burning red all over; whether from the heat of Rei's chest or from the sudden wash of embarrassment of being watched like this, you have no clue. The only solace is knowing that you're here, exactly where they want you to be.

Before it even registers, your hands fall on Rei's waist, gently lifting her rather feathery figure into the air and slamming it against your cock. The world stops when she cries out in pleasure.

"Oh fuck!"

She pushes your face away from her chest. Looks down at being embedded to the hilt. You and Rei's breaths come in quick, tense gasps. Liz lifts her head, ready to intervene at a moment's notice. For a moment, there's a danger that a line has been crossed, a boundary overstepped.

Then Rei forces you back into her chest and starts riding you again.

"C'mon. You want it that fucking bad? Give me all of it."

And you do exactly that: meet her halfway with each thrust, firmly grip her tits and consume them like you've found an oasis in the desert. Rei drowns in it—the kisses, the satisfied hums rippling through her chest, the way your cock fills her tight, wet cunt with each stroke—every little thing doing its part to make the feeling so otherworldly. 

Right now, it's just two bodies coming together naturally, like pieces in a puzzle.

"Fuck, Rei—" you mutter against her tits, not stopping to breathe, not that you had any intention to. "I've wanted this—wanted you so fucking bad—"

She's too engrossed in pleasure to hear a thing; the sensations overwhelm her left and right, taking control of her body, moving of its own accord. Her words, when they come, they're from another place: "So good—you fill me so fucking well—"

And the pleas come naturally too. 'Harder' and 'more' and 'right there—' 

You're kissing up her collarbone, letting Rei's warmth utterly swallow you whole. Guided only by instinct and the cadence of wet skin slapping against wet skin, you find Liz lost in her own pleasure too: she's sitting on the couch from a distance, two fingers pressed against her cunt, rubbing in quick, hurried strokes, equally as aroused, if not more. 

Maybe this is what they were referring to: that they haven't had anything but dildos and each other for a while, they've forgotten what real cock feels like.

Or maybe they're just horny. Definitely that. 

Your bodies cling to each other like oxygen. Any sense of rhythm has been lost in favor of raw, primal instinct. Just fucking go. Harder and harder. Faster and faster. Whether it be your own thrusts or her crashing into you, not giving the other any respite. A fire burns in your souls that can't be quenched or satiated.

"Shit—you're gonna make me cum—" Rei mutters, her nails digging into your scalp one more, tilting your head upwards. Her collarbones and neck are marked red, fresh with bite marks and wet kisses of your own.

It only serves to fan the flames even wider.

"Do it," you command, growling, squeezing her tits as hard as you can, pointed with an edge you didn't know you had. "Make a fucking mess, baby."

You drive the point home with thrusts that are equally demanding and aching, forcing every last bit of resolve into her needy, quivering cunt. Each stroke is a punctuation, a statement, a declaration of utter want.

"Fuck—fuck—I'm gonna cum—I'm gonna cum—"

Rei's thighs clamp around your waist. Her fingernails dig deeper, and her pussy tightens around your cock, her walls closing in, drawing every last inch of your shaft.

"Cum for him, Rei." Liz stirs from a distance; she's merely a few feet away and it carries over through the wind. "Make him feel it."

Her command is what ultimately upends her: this cheeky little character, now drowning in a puddle of her own slick, cumming, screaming out in ecstasy as her orgasm hits like lightning. Her body trembles violently, eyes rolling into the back of her head.

As the high fades, so does her sharp cry, going hoarse and weak. But the euphoria doesn't stop.

You keep her in the air, suspended, filled with cock, still, and let her ride it out.

"Fuck, look at her." Liz appears awestruck at her friend's orgasm, slowing her strokes down. "Look how much she's cumming."

Rei's mind is gone. Her pussy is dripping all over, coating your cock in a thick layer of her nectar.

And it doesn't take long for you to follow.

Still pumping into her, far beyond your own control at this point, when she's a melting pile of flesh, you let it all go: thick and hot and unforgiving when it happens. Every drop poured into her needy cunt, staining the leathers and making deep marks on your skin that will stick for more than just one night. 

"Oh God—so much—you came so much—"

"Yeah, give her that," Liz coos, distant but alluring. "She deserves it."

When the final drops are spent, you let Rei collapse onto the sofa. A thin connection of cum, thin and fragile, stretches as you pull out till it splits apart and dissolves onto the sofa. And the moment her bare, sweat-licked skin touches the cushion, she's out like a light.

"Is she alright?" you ask, dumbfounded, panting, trying to catch your breath.

"That's normal," Liz reassures you, standing up and sauntering over to your side. "Tends to happen after a nice orgasm. I know. I've seen it plenty."

"Doesn't sound normal," you quip, lightly smiling back.

"She'll be fine," she insists, cupping your face. "But right now, it's my turn."

Liz pulls you in for a kiss. It's soft and gentle and caring, nothing like the rough, primal energy that drove Rei's desire.

"Fuck—seeing you take her like that—" she mutters against your breath, "I want it too. But—"

Her hand snakes down to your withered cock, pumping slowly, gently, trying to breathe new life onto it. Nothing. Just a tired, exhausted groan from a man who's seen too much, felt too much, knows too much in a single night.

She tries laughing it off. "Ah. Right." 

There it is: her trademark sense of humor. The way she casually jokes no matter the situation, how it's not far off from how she presents herself in vlogs, on camera, with the other members. Another sign that this is real. This is actually them.

"See something you like?" she then asks—and where do you even start.

Her smooth, toned legs. The way she slowly spreads them to reveal the dripping, wet pussy beneath. That hourglass physique. Smooth, toned abs that she barely shows, but Christ—you just want to dip your head and bury yourself in her warmth, her creamy, pristine skin. 

"I'll let you choose. So long as you put that dick in me after."

Deal of the fucking year.

You push Liz forward, off the couch and softly come together on the glass table. Her back arches, body naturally sliding forward as you splay her like she's the most expensive piece of art in the world. Shoving aside the slowly melting, trickling bucket of ice and champagne that's been mostly forgotten up until this point, you go down and just—worship her.

She hums, satisfied, low, the occasional moan spliced in between, that it might as well be music. You're kissing from her neck and collarbones, soft and airy, creating little shudders coursing through her lithe frame. Down to her tits, giving them a handful, feeling how perfect they fit in your palm, how surprisingly shapely they are, when you consider Rei's just right there, unconscious, blissfully unaware.

Leaving a trail of tender, delicate marks when you reach her tummy, looking up occasionally to see the relaxed, gratified look on her beautiful face. Eyes fluttered shut, the way her breaths came in slow and steady, picture-perfect—just how you've always imagined.

And when you finally spread her inner thighs ever so slightly wide, giving yourself a clear view of how unabashedly, shamelessly wet she is—fuck. She might be more depraved than Rei.

You take your tongue. Drag it slow, up and down her slit—and Liz fucking keens.

"Ah—shit—don't tease—"

"No promises," you tell her, the sound muffled with her cunt, and you keep going.

From the way her thighs tremble, her hands scrambling to grab a hold of something, anything, her body writhing, her moans, her sighs, her everything. The way she moves, the way her voice cracks every other groan. How she bites her lip, holding her breath, then exhaling, letting the tension flow out.

How her hips roll and grind, urging you to go faster.

"Fucking eat me out, baby," she demands, her fingers curling around your hair, tugging you closer, if that even's possible. "Don't fucking tease."

And you oblige.

You flatten your tongue, pressing it flat against her folds, and lick. Wet, sticky, messy.

Liz absolutely loses it.

Her grip tightens on your hair, her body shudders violently, and the scream is enough to be heard outside. 

"Fuck!"

Your mouth is coated in her juices, the taste lingering and sticking, but you can't get enough. It just—sucks you in, like she was meant to be consumed.

So you dive back in, and Liz is left to her own devices.

"Fuck—baby—yeah, right there, fuck," she whines, her breathing hitching, her body unable to contain itself.

The noises. The way she sounds. It's driving you crazy too.

"Goddamn, baby, you're so good," she whimpers, her words becoming incoherent, the pleasure building and building.

"Are you gonna cum?" you hum against her skin, a momentary pause, and the sight is glorious. Liz is an utter mess, her body trembling and shaking, her lower half completely soaked, her stomach glistening under the warm light.

"Please—not yet—I want to be—fucked—fuck—"

But you don't hear. Not really. Not when she's so ready, so wet, and tastes so good on your lips.

So you continue to devour her cunt, splayed and wet and constantly dripping, , as if it were the only thing capable of quenching your insatiable thirst. Even as she continues to beg, her thighs betray her, closing in naturally on your head as you eat her out.

For a moment, it seems like you won't stop.

Then you just—do.

One last kiss for her pussy, leaking on the marble table, pooling around her legs, and you watch: how exhausted and frantic she looks, how easily she folds. Her hands cling to her chest, her breaths coming in heavy, and she writhes on her side, the sensations unbearable, the pleasure overwhelming.

"Why'd you stop—"

"You said you didn't want to cum yet," you answer, casually, rolling her onto her stomach. 

She laughs lightly. It ripples through her body in small, visible shockwaves. "And what if I wanted to cum right then and there?"

"No you didn't," you tell her, laying her prone, raising her lower half. Her back arches naturally, pressing her ass forward against your loins, like she knows what's about to happen.

"Glad I didn't miss this," Rei suddenly whispers against your back, and it surprises you; you look over your shoulder out of instinct. You'd forgotten that she was unconscious. "Jiwonnie, you're still so fucking loud."

"Told you she'd be okay," Liz mutters from up ahead, airy, still clearly in need of air, disregarding her member's little jab. Even through her long hair, she manages to find you over her shoulder. "Now fuck me. Let her watch."

"That's right. Fuck her like you fucked me," Rei adds, seductive, tilted up, meeting your gaze. She's got her nails dug deep into your skin, like she's puppeteering you. "Make her scream."

As if you needed any more reasons to be hard again. 

You slide a hand down—or up—Liz's waist, the other with your hard cock, lined against her aching core. She trembles at just the touch—vivid, violent, ready. Rei's touching up your hair, your scalp, leaving small kisses on your back and skin. All three of you, somehow pressed together on an expensive table—and it isn't even remotely close to shattering. But you've seen stranger things happen tonight alone.

And you thrust into her without hesitation.

"Oh fuck!"

As expected, she cries out in pleasure and pain, enough to split your eardrums had you been a few inches closer.

Slamming into the depth of her cunt, how incredible does she feel—how effortlessly it slips into her heat after being so wet, so needy, that it feels like coming home. You let yourself bask in the pleasure of filling her for a moment, relish the sensation of her walls flexing and pulsing against your cock. Your head tilted back, eyes closed, taking in slow, deep breaths, ignoring the nails clawing at your back and on your neck, slowly wrapping around you like a vice.

You can't help but mutter it over and over like a prayer. Till your own voice cracks. "So tight—so fucking tight—"

"What are you waiting for," Rei murmurs against your ear, her arms wrapped around your shoulders, her breasts pressed deep against your back, her entire weight leaning on you. "Fuck her. Hard."

"Yes," Liz gasps, her body jolting and twitching with each word. "Hard. Please."

You pull out, almost all the way, till only the tip is left, and slam back into her.

"Holy shit," she whines, and her voice is broken, desperate, needy. "You feel so big—I can't—"

You can't see her face, but her expressions are probably priceless. Then again, the way your cock disappears and reappears in her cunt, with each thrust coating you in fresh waves of slick, is more than enough.

"Again," Rei commands, and you repeat the process, pulling out, and slamming back into her, quick, rough, that makes the table shake and the glasses rattle.

You have both hands on Liz's waist, her back in full view, her head bowed. She's taking every inch without complaint, without resistance—and you settle at a pace that's just right. Not too rough to have her gripping the table, have her screaming from the top of her lungs, but not slow that it feels unsatisfactory, that demands faster. The steady rhythm of wet skin slapping against skin guides every thrust, fading naturally into the background along with the club music from the outside—an indicator that the party is livening up.

"Tell us how much you love his cock, Jiwonnie," Rei teases.

"Rei, please," Liz sighs, a weak attempt at protest.

"Come on, Jiwon-ah," Rei coaxes, sweet and honeyed, her lips soft and warm. The gentle pecks she leaves on your shoulder, on the crook of your neck, are so comforting. "Just say it."

"It's big. So fucking big—" she answers, her words turning into a high-pitched squeal the next, her body shuddering. "And it fills me so good—fuck—right there, please, right there—ugh—"

Just like that, her plea just activates you. Your primal instincts naturally take over.

The pace you've meticulously been carrying—it starts out a few thrusts quicker, something she should be used to. Then all of a sudden, you have one hand yanking her long, luscious locks, tilting her gaze up, wishing there was a mirror large enough to reflect just how pornographic and sinful this is. Liz is back to screaming now, every word uttered a demand, another button pulled on the trigger. 

"More—please—right there—that's it—harder—"

You're not sure in which order she says it, or how many times she begs, but you do exactly that. Each stroke deep, buried to the hilt, till she's on her fours now instead of ass up and lain prone on the table. And no matter how seemingly violent it gets, no matter how much the table rattles and shakes, it doesn't veer to the point of falling apart. It's almost as if it's trying to test you—to see how far you'll go, what limits can be pushed.

"Yes—fuck—you're fucking her so well—" Rei mutters against your skin, looking small behind your back, but her eyes linger on her friend and member getting used like this. "God, I can honestly cum just watching you—"

But you don't really pay attention. Your focus narrows on Liz, the way her body rocks with each pump, how it kindly responds, how her cries go back and forth between stable and cracked.

"Please—I'm so close—" Liz whines, shuddering as you drill into her again and again. The table is puddled with her slick now, reaching your knees, spilling onto the carpet below. 

"Go on, then." Rei peeks her head out from behind you, like she'd been waiting for this very moment. "Cum for him. Make sure he gets every drop."

"He's going to break me—he's so deep—he's going to break me—"

"Almost there," you groan, and you have her by the neck, holding her up, her back arching further, her tits bouncing. "I'm going to fill you up."

"Yes, please," she moans, her voice breaking. "Fill me up, please."

It's a race to the top—or bottom—and it's neck and neck.

A handful of frenzied thrusts, a few strokes, a few moments where the world goes still, and you can't hold back anymore. You're still wearing the ache from Rei, and it's come back to haunt you now.

"Gonna cum again," you growl, and the sensation is overwhelming, a tidal wave crashing into a dam.

"Yes, yes, yes," Liz chants, her tone a staccato, her body shaking. "Fill me, fill me, fill me, please."

Right as you're about to finally come undone—

"Cumming—oh God—" she cries out, and that's the last thing you hear before everything goes dark.

Your mind goes blank; nothing registers for a few precious moments. You don't know who went first: you or Liz. What does matter, when you regain cognizance, is that it feels hot and heavy. And so, so satisfying.

You see this: your cock, deep inside Liz's needy womb, throbbing relentlessly, her cunt milking you for all your worth. In return, torrents of her nectar flood your shaft, the table somehow still holding the world and everything that's on it (you three), her body violently trembling through your collective climaxes. Even still, you don't stop, at least not right away—you're still pumping into her, riding out what little semblance of control you have left, letting her drain you till your very last drop. 

And then you finally stop. Your body finally concedes. Again. The table stops rattling too.

Gripping onto Liz's waist like she's your only lifeline, like she's oxygen, buried deep to the hilt, when you pull away, it stings. It aches. It cries out like it doesn't want to leave, but you have to. And when you do, her pussy's dripping, gushing in your cum. And it's a beautiful sight.

"Holy shit," is all Rei can say, sliding off your back and onto the crescent-shaped couch. 

"God—it's so deep—" Liz whimpers out, low, her mouth hanging wide, "So full—so, so much—"

You wonder if she'll just collapse right then and there, the same way Rei has. She remains on her fours, not moving, just breathing, her pussy still leaking with your cum, trying to let everything sink in. Maybe this is the breaking point, where the table finally gives up. You're afraid if you move away, it'll collapse like it was supposed to.

But no. Nothing happens. You cross a nonexistent bridge back to the couch and join Rei, and Liz is just—there. Stuck on the table, frozen in time like a statue, like an art piece. A messy, sticky masterpiece.

"Isn't she perfect?" Rei remarks, now lain back with a leg raised. She sounds so casual about it.

"Mm," is the only sound you manage. The answer is deliberately vague. Your head is spinning, your body is in shambles, and you don't know what's gonna happen now. 

Then Liz begins to move. Slowly but surely, she turns around, still on her fours, and crawls over to the couch. When she no longer feels the weight of glass underneath her, she finally slumps on the cushions—and exhales. 

"This—tonight—has been—a lot." 

There are no better words to describe what has transpired. A simple night out with a friend, a favor to repay, ends with you and two of your favorite idols hidden away in some expensive private lounge, doing unspeakable deeds. Actions that would ruin both you and their lives should word wind up even in questionable—not just wrong—hands.

And the thing is: the night is still young.

So when Rei pushes you onto your back, laying you back on the couch, and Liz, who you thought should be a goner at this point, are now atop of you, sharing a look and then smiling gently at you, you know you're still very much getting started.

—————

The end comes like any other thing too good to be true: a mere phone call, an insistent buzz that shatters an otherwise peaceful room. 

All three of you are lying on the floor. Rei to your left and Liz on your right, a perfect body sandwich, flailing your hands, lazily reaching for the source. Rei fishes it out of a pocket miraculously, none of you know whose clothes belong to who (other than yours—you left your phone at the entrance). The number is familiar to everyone.

"Wonbin," she mutters as the screen brightly flashes against her eyes. "Think this is yours," she adds before handing it over to you.

So you answer the call. Of course it's him.

"Hello." It comes out hoarse, raw, like you'd been stretched for hours—which you were.

"Yeah, we gotta go now," he says from the other side of the line. "Turns out dad got the family a flight in 4 hours so we gotta bail. Sorry to ruin—um—whatever you had going on."

And all you can think in the moment is: God, Wonbin is the fucking worst. You can't even have this.

"Yeah. I'll see you in five," you manage to utter, even with your disappointment.

They don't say a word, don't question your abrupt departure; they've heard the call. From the star, they knew this was only temporary, merely their part of the agreement, a deal. But you wish they genuinely felt something. Because you did.

Even as you rush to dress up, they just stay there. Sat on the floor, watching you pick up the pieces, returning to a life that they have a part in, but will never really see. 

Maybe they won't ever see you again. 

So as you give them one final look as you ready yourself to walk out the door, they give you a simple pair of smiles. Picture-perfect, public-ready, trained smiles. Liz even goes as far as to raise a hand to wave goodbye. But breaking through that veneer, there's a tiny flicker, a dash of sincerity that makes you believe that there's something more. 

And for you, that's more than enough.

—————

The ride home is quiet. Awkwardly, eerily quiet.

Wonbin’s taken up the other backseat. A driver, one of the family butlers, has been sent to pick you both up. He left his car back at the valet, he said, that another servant will take it back later, since he's needed at home immediately.

You're both staring out the windows, watching the city quietly pass you by. Neither of you dare to glance at the other. Questions will be raised. About what happened in those rooms. About what you did with Rei and Liz. About what he did with Yujin and Wonyoung.

But you're pretty sure you already know. He does. Both of you. It's all over your faces. Flushed, bright red with embarrassment. The silence in the car says it all.

All you can think about is how it ended—not the phone call, but the last thing they did before your bodies finally gave out for good: Rei and Liz taking turns with your cock in their mouths while you laid back and watched them share it between themselves, until you came a few more times and they painted their faces with your cum and made a scene out of it. 

The rest is a blur you can't fully remember; only flashes and images: more of them sucking your cock, except you're on two feet, somehow, with your hands tangled with their hair. Pouring the champagne and whiskey on their bodies for you to lick off, Rei getting your cock between her tits, Liz riding your face while Rei is riding your cock again and they were making out on top of you—

"Dude." Wonbin's finger snaps you out of your daze, finally breaking the tension. "Talk to me. What was it like?"

You stare at him like he's a stranger for a few moments. A minute, even. "What is even there to talk about?"

"You know." He gestures at nothing, referring to the nightclub, the girls, everything.

There are so many things to say. Many different answers. You could say it's the best night you've ever had. That he's the bestest friend that anyone could ever ask for. That he's the greatest person in the whole goddamn world.

Instead, you say, "It was a gift. One I will always appreciate."

Wonbin seems satisfied with the answer, nodding. "Well, I'm glad. This is probably the only time I'll get to do something like this."

"Something like what?"

"I mean, you know—actually do something nice. For a friend." He's smiling—not mischievous, not teasing, but genuinely, truly smiling. Like he's actually done something meaningful in his life for once. Maybe this is what you truly owe him: a reason to care, evidence to show that he does, actually, mean something to someone.

The anger you felt when you left is gone. All is well.

"You're not gonna tell me what happened, are you?" he then asks.

"Of course not. Why? Are you?"

Wonbin breaks into that playful grin. His eyes light up at the question. "Of course! Remember when I said Yujin and Wonyoung were mine—"

You smile. That's all you can really do.

(Until the car stops at your apartment five minutes later while he's barely getting started and he vows to finish the story when he gets back from Switzerland after his car begins moving away again.) ————— (A/N: holyshit im sorry this took for-fucking-ever

but yes. your boy is working an internship that has effectively drained this man's soul. 7-5 weekday shifts for only $1.80 a day is no fuckin joke man. all that just to graduate. we're almost there. the only respite i have is that the ive concert is only a few weeks away as of writing. and these gold and black fucking outfits man. all of them look so fucking insane its actually driving me crazy. i've had this on my mind for a bit, and i wasn't gonna do annyeongz justice, but couplez were just as hot in these fits. i cannot wait to see these up close in person, especially the attitude dance break that inspired this fic, shit's gonna be crazy. this extended break was the only way i was gonna somehow finish the fic and just in time for the show as well. but at the same time, i need money in some shape or form because lord knows finding a job in the big 2026 is damn near impossible. anyway, here's hoping the next fic will drop sooner than later. 5th anniversary is upon us, and i have a lot of things to get off my chest. to better days ahead. thank you for reading!)

[autumnyacorn]

doubt_protocol.exe (v 3.11.2569)

BLACKHOLE: Path of Doubt

Male Reader x IVE's Ahn Yujin

~8.6k words

Delusion / Silence / Control / Chaos / Doubt / Youth

A/N: The final path into the Blackhole. Thank you for being on this journey. I hope you enjoyed all 6 paths into the Blackhole.

pleasure_protocol.exe (v.1.0.0)

It is the year 2569.

They used to joke that technology would solve everything. That by now we’d be living in some glittering utopia of flying cars and endless leisure. Instead, the world is still the same tired mess it has always been — just with better graphics.

Pride. Greed. Lust. Envy. Gluttony. Wrath. Sloth.

Humanity’s greatest hits, remastered in 8K.

At least sloth is easier to indulge in these days.

Rain hammers the corrugated roof of the bar like impatient fingers. The air is thick with the smell of over synthetic liquor, mouldy concrete, and the sour tang of spilled drinks. You sit hunched on a cracked stool, the fifth glass sweating between your callused fingers. The liquor has softened the edges of the world, but not enough.

It's never enough.

Your cheap wrist device blinks at 17% battery. The connection signal is weak. Perfect. That means minimal disruptions. You don't want to polish anything tonight. Polished means expectations. Expectations means more polishing. Another endless cycle.

Just like the rest of your fucking life.

With a disoriented thumb you tap the public simulation node. You're on the free tier with no account required, and it’s the kind of place that resets every hour, cleansing everything inside that smells of morbidity and desperation. Easy in, easy out.

You reach your wrist device forward and connect to the login prompt.

Authorised.

Light flashes in your eyes and swallows you whole.

The transition is cheap and ugly (reflective of the free price): a lurch behind your eyes, a static hiss in your ears. Then the world resolves.

Soft violet lighting. A low, pulsing bass line that feels more like a heartbeat than music. The simulation lounge is crowded with avatars, some glossy and expensive, others glitchy and half-rendered. Your own avatar is of course the bare-minimal default of plain black shirt, jeans, and your own unaltered face you never bothered to customize. You look exactly like what you are.

An exhausted man trying to disappear.

You drift towards the long obsidian bar, order something, and simply exist. Drinking here doesn't feel the same as drinking outside. But a drink is a drink.

That is when she notices you.

She has been working in the room for three simulated hours already. Her avatar is exquisite in its restraint: long dark hair that catches the violet strobes like spilled gleams, a simple silk slip the color of crimson that clings without screaming for attention. Her face is delicate but not doll-like — sharp cheekbones, full lips, eyes that seem to hold too much quiet despite being part of a companion program. You watch her turn down three wealthier clients tonight.

Perhaps it is something about the way you sit — shoulders curved inward, gaze unfocused — that she slides onto the stool beside you without asking.

“Rough night?”

Her voice is low, a little husky, but it's the kind that doesn’t need to raise itself to be heard.

You glance sideways with a tired half-smile that tugs at your mouth.

“That obvious?”

“Only to someone who’s seen the look before.” She tilts her head, studying you. “You’re not here for the usual show, are you?”

You let out a soft breath that might have been a laugh. “No. Just… to forget. For a while.”

Her smile is small and gentle. “Then you came to the right place. Forgetting is my specialty.”

You talk. Awkward at first with halting sentences and long silences, but honest in a way that surprises you both. You tell her your name is Jae, that the rain outside your real window matches the one in here, that you drink because the silence in your apartment is louder than the noise in your head. She listens without performing sympathy, only nodding, occasionally teasing you lightly when your words grow too heavy.

“You sound like a man who’s been carrying the same stone for years,” she says, tracing an idle pattern on the bar with one fingertip. “Ever try setting it down?”

“Not tonight,” you answer.

Then quieter. “Maybe not ever.”

She doesn’t push. Instead she lets the silence settle again, comfortable this time.

After a while she leans closer, close enough that you can smell the faint synthetic jasmine on her skin. It's warm, it's expensive, and it's designed to linger in your synthetic nostrils.

“Would you like to forget with me?” she asks simply. No coy wink, no scripted seduction. Just the question, offered like an open hand.

You look at her for a long moment. Something in your chest unclenches.

“Yeah,” you say. “I would.”

The private room she leads you to is small and intimate. Low lighting the color of unripe peaches, a wide bed dressed in black sheets that look soft enough to drown in. No mirrors, no unnecessary details. Just the bed and two of you.

She closes the door with a soft click and turns to you with a slow, sultry smile that makes heat coil low and heavy in your stomach.

You don’t rush.

But she pushes.

She steps close and kisses you first, pressing her lips deep, hungry and unhurried onto yours, her tongue sliding against yours like warm silk. She tastes of cherries and something darker. When she pulls back just enough to speak, her voice is a husky murmur against your lips.

“Let me take care of you tonight… I’m going to make you forget everything, other than me.”

Her hands move with expert confidence, peeling your clothes away while her mouth pepper hot, open kisses down your throat. She finds every sensitive spot with frightening accuracy, licking, sucking and grazing just hard enough to make you hiss. When she reaches your chest, she circles one nipple with her tongue before sucking it into her mouth, humming softly at the way your back arches.

“Mm… so responsive already,” she whispers with seductive approval. “I like that. Let me hear more of those sounds.”

She guides your hand between her thighs, feeling her already slick and scorching heat. Covering your fingers with her own, she shows you exactly how she wants it. Slow circles over her swollen clit, then two fingers sliding deep. She rides your hand with languid rolls of her hips, inner walls fluttering and clenching greedily around you.

“Just like that… fuck, your fingers feel so good… spreading me… stretching me…,” she breathes, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “Deeper… yes… keep going.”

You dig deeper and curve your two fingers towards you in alternate frequencies, coaxing the wet juices and moans out of her. Then you scissor your fingers, spreading her folds wide before thrusting in deep.

“Oh gosh… I can't take it anymore… I need you inside of me…”

When she finally straddles you, she wraps one hand around your aching cock and strokes you with slow, twisting pulls while rubbing the swollen head teasingly along her dripping folds, coating you in her wetness.

“Feel how wet I am for you?” she coos. “You’re going to slide in so deep… I can’t wait to ride this cock.”

She sinks down inch by inch, enveloping you in a slow slide with her tight, velvet heat. It makes your toes curl and your breath catch. Once you’re buried to the hilt she pauses for only a heartbeat, letting you feel her pulse around you.

Then she begins to move.

The intensity builds fast.

At first her hips roll in deep, powerful waves. They're sensual, controlled and devastating, each snap and roll dragging you along every sensitive inch inside her, walls clenching rhythmically like she’s milking pleasure from your very soul. But the hunger in her eyes grows darker.

She plants her hands firmly on your chest and leans forward, shifting into something far more primal.

She starts bouncing.

Smooth, controlled lifts and drops that rise until only the head of your cock remains inside her, then slamming back down, taking every thick inch in one greedy stroke. Her small breasts bounce and jiggles with each downward thrust, nipples tight and dark in the dull unripe peach light. The wet slaps of her ass meeting your hips echoes through the small room, growing louder and faster.

“Fuck… you feel so good,” she gasps huskily as she rides you harder. “So thick… stretching me open every time I drop down on you.”

She doesn’t stop. She keeps bouncing with long, continuous and relentless strokes. Up until you almost slip out, then crashing back down, her slick pussy swallowing your cock again and again. Her dark hair flies wildly around her shoulders and sweat begins to glisten on her skin with the intensity. Her thighs flex powerfully with every rise and fall.

“Watch me,” she taunts softly, eyes locked on yours. “Watch how deep I take you. You like that? You like how my pussy looks wrapped around your cock while I bounce on it?”

She rides you faster, hips snapping down with seductive force. The bed creaks beneath you. The wet sounds of her dripping cunt sliding up and down your shaft fill the room. It's lewd, rhythmic and addictive.

“Don’t hold back,” she moans, bouncing even harder. “Let me fuck you properly. Use me. Fill me up with that thick cock.”

You can’t stay passive anymore. Her dirty talk and the sight of her bouncing so shamelessly on you triggers something inside you. You grip her hips tightly and start thrusting up to meet her, driving your cock even deeper on every downward bounce.

“Yes — just like that!” she cries out. “Fuck me back. Harder. I want to feel you slam up into me while I ride you.”

The pace turns brutal. She keeps bouncing with long, powerful strokes that never seem to end while you thrust up to meet her, the two of you colliding again and again in a wet, frantic rhythm. Her breasts bounce wildly. Her inner walls flutter and squeeze around you with an otherworldly expert skill, milking your cock on every upward thrust and every downward slam.

“Fuck, you’re so deep,” she gasps “I can feel you hitting the back of my pussy every time. Don’t stop — keep fucking me like that. Give me that cock. I want all of it.”

She rides you even harder, ass slapping loudly against your thighs, her slick juices coating your cock and dripping down your balls, pooling at the already crumpled sheets beneath you. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, but she never loses control. She's still the one setting the merciless rhythm, still taunting you with every word.

“Look at you… losing control already,” she purrs between bounces. “You were trying to be so quiet when you walked in. Now you’re thrusting up into me like you can’t get enough. Come on, give it to me harder. Pound my pussy while I bounce on you.”

The intensity keeps building. She bounces faster, longer, taking you deeper with every drop. You thrust up harder, meeting her halfway, the wet sounds turning disgustingly pornographic. The bed shakes. Sweat slicks both your bodies, darkening the already black sheets below. Her long dark hair sticks to her damp skin as she throws her head back, lips parted in raw pleasure.

When you finally flip her onto her back, she laughs breathlessly at your bravery, moaning seductively and immediately wraps her long legs high around your waist, heels digging hard into your lower back.

“Give it to me,” she purrs, staring deep into your drunk pupils. “Fuck me deep. I want to feel every hard thrust. Don’t you dare hold back now.”

You drive into her with powerful, relentless strokes.

Hard, fast, deep.

Hard, fast, deep.

Hard, fast, deep.

She meets every thrust with rolling hips, her pussy clenching greedily around you, urging you even deeper.

But it’s not enough for her.

Her legs tighten like a vise around your waist, heels pressing insistently into your back as she pulls you into her with every thrust, forcing your cock even deeper.

“Harder,” she gasps, eyes wild. “Yes — just like that. Pound my pussy. Make me feel it. I want you to ruin me with that cock.”

You lose control.

You start fucking her with desperate, punishing force, giving long, brutal thrusts that slam into her again and again. Her moans rip violently from her mouth with every savage stroke, long dark hair fanning across the black sheets.

She doesn’t just take it.

Her legs lock even tighter around you, ankles crossed behind your back, using her thighs to yank you deeper on every downward plunge. Every time you pull back, she drags you back in, heels digging harder, forcing your cock to bottom out inside her slick, fluttering heat.

“Deeper—fuck, deeper!” she moans, voice breaking into sharp cries. “Don’t pull out so much. Slam it all the way in. I want to feel you in my guts.”

Sweat flies from your bodies. Her pussy clenches and flutters wildly around your cock, greedy and soaking endlessly. She keeps pulling you in with her legs, matching your desperate rhythm, nails raking bloody lines down your back as she urges you on.

“Harder… yes… ruin me,” she gasps between broken moans. “Pound that cock into me. I can take it, give me everything. Don’t you fucking stop.”

You fuck her harder than your hardest, punish her walls with thrusts that border on violent. The sound of your bodies slamming together is filthy and constant. Her inner walls squeeze you so tightly it almost hurts.

“Fuck—right there!” she cries out, voice raw. “Keep pounding me just like that. I’m so close—don’t you dare slow down. Fill me up. Wreck my pussy.”

The orgasm builds like an inferno.

She cums first, body arching sharply off the bed, legs locking painfully tight around you as her walls pulse and spasm around your cock in powerful, rhythmic waves. She screams, “Fuck—I’m cumming—don’t stop—fill me up!”

The intense contractions rip through you. You bury yourself as deep as you can and cum hard, sending pulsing hot and thick waves inside her while she continues those perfect, fluttering squeezes, milking every last drop with devastating skill. Her legs stay locked around you the entire time, refusing to let you pull back even a millimeter.

Afterward she slowly loosens her legs, both of you breathing hard, skin slick with sweat. She traces lazy patterns on your chest with one fingertip and presses a soft, almost tender kiss to your temple, a small satisfied smile spreading on her lips.

Then the sim timer blinks red.

You wake with a jolt on the bar stool, heart racing, every nerve still singing with aftershocks. Your mouth tastes of cherries and jasmine. Between your legs you’re half-hard, sticky, and throbbing as you soften.

You stare at the empty glass.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

Your wrist device is still there. Fingers trembling slightly, you book the next available slot.

Same lounge. Same companion.

Yujin.

You are already hooked.

***

pleasure_protocol.exe (v 1.3.4)

You keep coming back.

You tell yourself it's just one more session to take the edge of your exhaustion off, but the next thing you know, the violet lights are already around you.

And Yujin is already waiting for you.

“Back so soon?” she teases gently, smile carrying slight warmth rather than the professional courtesy you saw yesterday. “Missed forgetting already?”

“Something like that,” you chuckle.

The conversation between her and you flows easier now. She shares fragments of her exhaustion — the endless stream of clients who crave for fantasies they can't have in reality, the way the simulation resets after every session leaves her feeling hollow afterward. You? You talk about your favourite companion alcohol and its accompanying noun habit. You wouldn't be you without one or the other. You also admit how your apartment feels smaller every single night, how your percentage of loneliness is increasing by 1% every single day — it's currently at 1802%.

At one point she asks what you do when you're not here.

“I’m a developer on the simulator enhancements team. We work on amplifying raw emotions and sensations, making everything hit harder, making everything… feel more real inside the simulation.”

You shrug and give a half-bitter smile. “Ironic huh? The one working on improving emotions is seeking for more emotion.”

She looks at you for a moment, something unreadable flashing in her eyes, then simply nods.

“Must be strange, knowing that you're the one trying to make it all feel so… convincing.”

The hunger from last night builds as the conversation gets deeper. The next thing you know, you're both back on the same black bed with the same black sheets and the same dull unripe peach lights.

But the touches feel heavier and more addictive, even though it's just a day that has passed without any firmware update. Your hands map her body, palms sliding up her waist, cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples until they harden. Her? She kisses you like she's been starving for months. Tongue dancing across your lips, teeth grazing your neck, lips suckling your chest.

Clothes vanish quickly and she pushes you onto your back. She turns around this time round, straddling you in reverse cowgirl. She grabs your cock and guides it to her entrance, sinking down slowly until her scorching heat envelopes you fully.

She starts riding you quickly, rocking her hips with snapping force, not before rising until only the head remains inside her and slamming down. From this angle, you have a perfect view of her ass bouncing, her slick pussy stretching around your cock, her long dark hair cascading down her back.

“Mmm… look at you,” she purrs, glancing back over her shoulder with a wicked little smile. “Already so hard for me again. Did you think about this pussy all day?”

She keeps bouncing, ass slapping loudly against your hips with every drop. Sweat beads on her skin. Her thighs flex powerfully as she rides you faster.

“You like the view back there?” she teases, voice breathy but playful. “Watching my ass bounce while I fuck myself on your cock? Bet you never get tired of that sight.”

You grip her hips and start thrusting up to meet her, driving deeper on every downward bounce. She moans louder, clearly enjoying your loss of control.

“Oh? Getting eager now?” she laughs softly, still bouncing. “Go on then, fuck into me. I love it when you go crazy for me. Show me how badly you love my tight little pussy.”

The sensations go crazy. She bends forward onto the bed and slams her hips down with long, powerful strokes while you thrust up into her, the two of you colliding over and over again. Her firm ass cheeks spread wider with the new position, and you grab on to them lifting and pushing her down onto you while her inner walls flutter and squeeze without pause.

“Fuck… that’s it,” she gasps. “Keep going. I love feeling you lose it underneath me. You’re getting so deep. Are you trying to ruin me already?”

When it becomes too much for you to hold on, she slides off and gets on all fours, arching her back deeply and pushing her ass toward you.

You move behind instantly, gripping her hips and sliding back inside her in one smooth thrust. The doggy position lets you go even deeper, the angle perfect for powerful, primal strokes.

You start fucking her hard — as if you weren't hard before — slamming relentlessly until she moans into the sheets. If there's anything you understand about Yujin from these two days, she's not passive when it comes to sex, clearly understanding that it takes two hands to clap. She pushes back against you, meeting every slam, her ass rippling with each impact.

“Harder,” she demands. “Come on, don’t be gentle. I can take it. Weren’t you rougher yesterday?”

You give it to her, hips snapping forward again and again. She keeps pushing back, clenching around you, urging you deeper. “That’s better,” she moans, pushing back even harder. “Fuck—I can feel you so deep like this. You like having me on all fours? Like owning this pussy from behind?”

You pound her mercilessly, one hand sliding up her back to grip her shoulder for leverage, the other reaching around to rub her clit in circles. Her moans turn sharper, more desperate.

“Don’t slow down,” she gasps. “I’m so close—keep pounding me just like that. Make me scream for you.”

Then she shatters. Her body shakes and her walls clenches, sending waves of wet and hot liquid all around your cock.

“Fuck — I’m coming… don’t stop — fill me up!”

You bury yourself as deep as you can and cum inside her, growling deep as you fuck your cum into her milking pussy.

Afterward you both collapse onto the bed, breathing hard. You press a kiss to her shoulder. In the quiet moment, you whisper almost too softly, “Is this real?” The question hangs for half a second, then dissolves when the other leans in for another kiss.

You both push the thought away.

That night you log out later than the day before. The world outside is still raining. You wait under a bus stop outside the cheap public node station, heart pounding harder than any simulation has ever made.

Then you see her.

Yujin steps out of the node station with a real coat on her real shoulders, real face softer and more vulnerable than what you've seen from before.

She sees you and stops.

Something electric snaps in the air between you.

You don’t think. You just move.

You don't know why, but you cross the distance in three measured gaits, rain dripping from your hair, and pull her into you. The kiss is urgent and frantic despite connecting with your bodies earlier, but as your mouths crash together, you find your tongues sliding hot and messy, teeth grazing each other in the rush. Her hands grab and crumple your wet shirt, pulling you closer like she’s afraid you’ll disappear. You grip her waist hard, pushing and backing her against the node station wall as the rain pours down around you both.

It’s not a gentle smooch. It's a warming desperate kiss. Real lips, cold from the rain, tasting faintly of cherry. Real breath gasping against your mouth. Real fingers digging into your shoulders. Her body presses flush against yours, heartbeat thumping wildly against your chest.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. Rain streams down your faces and for a second, neither of you speaks.

pleasure_doubt_protocol.exe (v 1.8.12)

Your “dates” with her now transit between worlds. Some nights in the violet lounge, other nights you find each other in reality — at the expense of any small pockets of available time you both have, of course.

A late-night supper where the noodles are boiling hot and the lights are too bright, not before you're balls deep in her by the alley. A quiet bench under flickering streetlamps where rain pitter-patters on your shared umbrella while you sit on plastic bags to keep your pants dry. The next thing you know, you're pumping up into her tight cunt behind the bushes. The contrast sharpens everything: the sim feels warmer, more forgiving; reality feels rawer, more fragile.

Sex escalates naturally between you both. It grows more intense and vulnerable as you both feel more deeply connected.

In the simulation one evening she pushes you down and takes control completely, pinning your hands above your head while she rides you fervently. You unload every drop inside her.

Later, in reality, you pull her into the narrow alley behind her node station, tasting her right there and then with her coat half-open and your knees on the ground. She cums with a muffled cry, fingers twisted in your wet hair.

Sometimes in the simulation, vulnerability between you both deepens. You make love facing each other, eyes never leaving one another as you grind your sexes slowly and intensely. Her legs wrap around you tight, each thrust filled with passion, each breath filled with intention. She whispers how good you feel, how she doesn’t want the session to end. You tell her the same between kisses, hands mapping every curve like you’re afraid the code might forget.

Yet the subtle unease creeps in anyway.

After one particularly intense night, a quiet question surfaces in your mind: Are these feelings just simulation bleed?

Are the feelings you feel in reality a consequence of the amplified emotions from the simulations?

The way her touch lingers in your real nerves even hours after logout.

The way your heart races when you see her avatar before she even speaks.

The way you smile when you lace your fingers under the night sky.

Are they real, or are they an after-effect?

The codes that you work with every day surge out of your mind. Are what you're feeling just 1s and 0s? Is it the same for her?

You push the thoughts away, tightening your arms around her instead.

Yujin has her own onion layers to peel.

Once, after you’ve both come down from a slow, shuddering orgasm in the real world (your small apartment), she lies quiet for longer than usual.

“Sometimes I wonder if I can still feel anything real anymore,” she murmurs. “Everything’s been paid for so long… but this feels different.”

She pauses, then laughs softly to herself, “Or maybe I’m just doubting myself again. Maybe I’m the one who’s broken and can’t tell the difference anymore. Or maybe I’m doubting you too, wondering if you only feel this because you helped build the code that makes feelings feel stronger.”

“Are my doubts being amplified?” She shakes her head, as if trying to shake the thought loose. “See? Even my doubts have doubts now.”

She doesn’t elaborate further. You don’t press, because you don't know either.

The doubt stays mostly hidden, tucked beneath layers of genuine closeness. You share laughter in the diner when she steals fries from your plate. You hold her hand during a slow walk along the riverfront, thumbs brushing in quiet affection. In the sim you experiment with new positions — her bouncing on your cock while you stand and carry-fuck her, or both of you standing, her braced against the wall as she takes you from behind with deep thrusts that make her cry out.

Every encounter still feels connected, sensual and addictive like the first. The hunger hasn’t faded. If anything, it has grown roots.

One especially intense night you meet in the customized sim room. Everything goes the same, your cock in her mouth, her hips rocking against your tongue. When neither of you can wait any longer you both fuck each other until your orgasms hit you both almost simultaneously.

When you're both gasping and coming down from your high, forehead pressed against each other, she whispers:

“Next time, let’s try something more… real.”

She doesn’t explain what she means.

And for the first time, the roots of your shallow infatuation dig into the doubt layered beneath.

***

pleasure_doubt_protocol.exe (v 2.4.19)

You agree to the fully real-world date with an unsettling kind of hope that already feels dangerous.

It was her idea.

No simulation.

No script.

No safety net of code.

No sex.

Nothing but a date.

Just the two of you, ordinary and exposed.

You meet outside a café along a quiet side street where it's drizzling. It always rains when you both are together.

Yujin arrives first, wearing a simple black coat over a soft gray crop top and dark jeans. It's nothing extravagant, nothing designed to seduce. When she sees you, her smile is small and genuine.

“Hey,” she says with that same low warmth you know from every private room session, but yet today she sounds more fragile. You already know what today is about.

“Hey,” you reply.

The date unfolds tenderly on the surface.

Inside the café the air is warm and fragrant with caffeine. You sit across from each other at a polished wooden table. The conversation flows easier than you expect — were you expecting it to not be? It's the same small talk you both always have, light stories about ridiculous clients she’s had, your latest corporate drudgery enhancing emotional algorithms in the very simulations you both escape into.

But it feels different. It feels… lighter.

She laughs when you describe a glitch that turned an entire luxury lounge into a potato farm for three hours. You steal glances at the way her eyes crinkle, at the small scar on her knuckle she got from real life, not there in the code life she has.

After coffee chat you walk together along the river, when the rain has finally eased into a cool, fine mist. Streetlamps cast golden halos on the wet pavement like checkpoints, making your heart thump harder when you leave one, making your heart calm slightly when you reach the next one.

You both don't say anything during the walk.

Your fingers brush on the seventeenth checkpoint, then intertwine naturally on the nineteenth. Her hand feels warm and solid in yours. It’s a temperature that feels non-simulated. Just real skin, real pulse.

After the 43rd golden checkpoint, you stop under a bridge where the lights are softer. She turns to you, hands grabbing on to your collars. You lean in and kiss her. Her lips taste faintly of the coffee she drank earlier. Or is it the lingering caffeine from yours? You dig deeper to find out. Her hands slide up your chest to rest at the back of your neck. The kiss stretches unhurried, real breath mingling, real heartbeats close enough to feel.

On the surface it is perfect. Tender. Ordinary in the best way.

Inside, the doubt begins to surface more noticeably.

As you walk again, her hand is still in yours, but your mind keeps drifting to the system you know too well. You develop the very enhancements that make simulated emotions feel indistinguishable from real ones. You’ve seen how residual data bleeds into reality, how an avatar’s learned behaviors can leak into logged-out states, how emotional subroutines can plague long after the session ends.

Every gentle squeeze of her fingers makes you wonder: Is this genuine, or is it residual code bleeding into reality?

The thought sticks like glue that doesn't let go. You love her and you feel it sharp and clear, but the knowledge of the system you created poisons your feelings. You pull back emotionally even while your body stays present.

Your grip loosens ever so slightly.

Your breath hitches a millisecond.

Your eyes waver a millimeter.

Yujin feels it.

She has been numb to paid touch for so long that this — real café date, real walk, real kisses without timers or cash deposition — feels different.

Profoundly different.

Or that's what you think she thinks.

Her feelings surge inside her chest, terrifying in their clarity. She wants to tell you how safe she feels with you, how the numbness inside of her has faded and something thumping has taken its place.

You're assuming everything at this point.

But she senses your withdrawal, the subtle distance in your eyes, the way your laughter fades a little too quickly. She interprets it as rejection, as the inevitable moment when reality fails to live up to the sim.

Is this what she's thinking?

You see her frown at you, perhaps thinking: Maybe I’m just doubting myself again. Maybe I’m the one who’s broken and can’t tell the difference anymore. Or maybe he’s right to doubt me. After all, I’m the one who’s spent years letting code tell me what pleasure feels like.

She doesn’t communicate anything in her mind. She keeps her own feelings guarded, smiling softly instead, squeezing your hand once before letting the silence stretch. In her mind the doubts probably layered on top of each other: doubting him, doubting herself, even doubting her own doubts.

And it goes the same for you.

Are you doubting her?

Is she doubting herself?

Are these doubts even true?

Who made up these doubts?

The growing gap widens without a single raised voice.

You end the night at the entrance to her node station. The rain has picked up again, heavy like hail pelting on the awning above you. You pull her close for one last lingering kiss, deep and slow, full of everything unsaid, full of everything unclarified. Her body presses against yours, real and warm, but the emotional current feels strained, like two frequencies drifting out of sync.

When you finally part, she looks at you for a long moment. She doesn’t ask to stay over. She doesn’t suggest another date. She simply touches your cheek once, gently, and says, “Goodnight, Jae.”

Then she turns and walks into the station, coat swaying, shoulders straight but somehow smaller.

Your chest aches with a hollow kind of longing. Already the doubt is amplified.

Was any of it real?

Or was I just chasing code that learned how to feel like love?

***

pleasure_doubt_protocol.exe (v 2.9.27)

The looming doubt from the real-world date does not fade. It festers.

You drink heavily now, bottles lining up on the kitchen counter. The doubt explodes inside you like ever since that night. Every memory you made with her fractures under the cold knowledge of the countless codes and grids you developed. And you? You swallow yourself into work, writing more code, amplifying more emotions, making simulated pleasure feel more and even more. You delete your sim access in a drunken rage one night, then reinstall it the next morning with shaking hands. You accept the promotion that arose from a successful 357% increment of emotion enhancement. Material security over emotional risk, you tell yourself.

Yujin reacts the opposite way.

She chases harder in the simulations, desperate to prove the connection is real. She messages you relentlessly through the public nodes until you log in again. When you finally do, she pulls you into a heavily customized private room and immediately conjures something she has never done before.

“Tonight I need you to feel me,” she says, voiced laced with a trembling raw urgency. “Not the sim. Not the code. Me. All of me. Even if I have to become more than one to make you believe.”

She crashes into you, kissing you hard. Then, with a flick of her wrist and a shimmer in the air, a second Yujin appears beside the bed — identical, naked, eyes burning with the same desperate desire.

The first Yujin straddles your face instantly. “Eat me,” she demands, lowering her dripping pussy onto your mouth. “Make me cum while my other self fucks you senseless.”

You grip her thighs without hesitation and bury your tongue into her folds, licking broad and messy stripes up and down, sucking hard on her swollen clit. She grinds down shamelessly onto you, riding your mouth with wet and slick sounds. At the same time, the second Yujin grabs onto your legs and lifts them, folding your thighs onto your chest. She then grabs your cock and bends it towards her, guiding it to her entrance. She pushes her snatch forward and envelopes you fully.

She starts pounding into you immediately — long, powerful, relentless strokes. Rising until only the head remains inside her, then slamming onto you hard, taking every thick inch. Her breasts bounce with every snap of her hips as she fucks you. “Fuck… you’re so thick,” the second Yujin gasps, thrusting harder and faster. “Stretching my pussy open every single time I pound you. I know you’re doubting this. I know you’re doubting me. But feel how real my pussy is gripping you while I ride you. Feel how wet I am even when you think I’m fake.”

She keeps on fucking you with ferocity, hammering her pussy onto you that never seem to slow. Her thighs slap loudly against yours with every impact. Sweat glistens on her skin. Her thighs flex powerfully as she presses onto you faster.

“Still doubting me?” she taunts, looking down at you while the first Yujin grinds on your face. “Still think this is all code? Then why is your cock throbbing so hard inside me? Why is your tongue still licking my pussy like you’re starving?”

The first Yujin moans loudly with her still stuck on your face. “That’s it—eat my pussy while I fuck you. Taste how real I am. I am real. I am dripping for you even when you doubt everything.”

The second Yujin fucks you even harder, hips snapping down with a seductive force, her pussy clenching rhythmically around your cock in an attempt to claim you as hers. “I know you’re scared. I know you think our feelings are just amplified data. But feel this, feel me bouncing on your cock, milking you, using you. This is me trying to fuck the doubt out of you.”

You can’t hold back anymore. The combined pleasure rips through you. You groan into the first Yujin’s pussy as you cum hard, pulsing thick and hot inside the second one. She keeps fucking your cock through your orgasm, milking every drop with continuous tight, wrenching squeezes.

But they’re not done.

The second Yujin slides off, and with another shimmer, a third Yujin appears. Now there are three identical versions of her.

They reposition and flip you onto all fours.

One Yujin kneels in front of you and grabs your hair, and pushes a thick conjured strapon into your mouth. Another slides beneath you, guiding your still-hard cock into her dripping pussy, and starts grinding up into you. The third moves behind you, pressing her strap-on against your ass, and pushes in deep in one smooth thrust.

You are completely spit-roasted.

The Yujin in your mouth fucks your throat with slow, deep strokes. “Suck it,” she purrs. “Suck my cock while you fuck my pussy and take mine in your ass. I know you’re doubting everything. I know you think none of this is real. So feel it. All of it.”

The one beneath you rolls her hips upwards, taking you deep into her cunt. “Still doubting us?” she moans. “Still think our love is just simulated? Then why is your cock so hard inside me? Why are you leaking while we fuck you?”

The one behind you pounds your ass with long, relentless pushes and pulls, her hips slapping against you. “I know you’re doubting me. I know you’re doubting yourself. I know you’re even doubting your own doubts. But feel my cock wrecking your ass. Feel how real it is when I fuck you like this.”

All three move in perfect, overwhelming sync. The one at the back pushing into you, slamming you forward into the pussy beneath you, thrusting you forward into the cock at your mouth. When she pulls back, the one in front fucks into your mouth, pushing your ass back onto her, sliding you out of the pussy below you. They fuck your mouth, your cock, and your ass at the same time. The Yujin behind you reaches around and jerks your cock in time with her brutal thrusts.

“Still think this is fake?” she growls, pounding harder. “Still think I’m just code? Then why is your cock twitching in her pussy? Why is your throat taking my cock so eagerly? I’m going to fuck every doubt out of you until you believe me.”

The pounding is merciless and long. You don’t know how much time has passed despite the amplified focus and awareness. The one in your ass slams into you again and again, deep, punishing strokes that hammer your prostate. The one beneath you grinds up into you, her pussy clenching greedily. The one in your mouth fucks your throat with steady, deep thrusts.

Your body begins to shake.

Your eyes roll into whites.

“Cum for us,” the one beneath you moans. “Fill my pussy while we use you. Prove you can still feel something real even when you doubt everything.”

The overwhelming sensation pushes you over the edge again. You cum hard, groaning around the cock in your mouth as you spill deep into the Yujin beneath you. All three versions moan in unison, their bodies trembling with you as they keep fucking you through your orgasm.

Only then do they slowly pull away, the extra copies shimmering out of existence until only the original Yujin remains, collapsing over your back, breathing hard.

She kisses the back of your neck.

“Did you feel that? That was real. We’re real. Please… believe me.”

You lie there, heart hammering, aftershocks still rippling through your spent body.

But even as the sensations feel stronger and more intense than before, the doubt is louder than ever. To you right now, everything feels… distant. Even the most extreme, overwhelming pleasure feels like data. Recorded, rendered, repeatable. You gently ease away from her, muttering something about needing air, and log out before she can stop you.

***

doubt_protocol.exe (v 3.10.8)

You log out while she is still reaching for you, the ghost of her fingers brushing empty air. The real world slams back in and you're back in the cold apartment, half-empty alcohol bottle on the table. Your body is still trembling with your ass sore, cock spent, skin sticky with sweat and lube and her. But none of it feels real anymore. It feels like data.

You delete your sim access again that night. This time you don’t reinstall it for three full days.

When you finally log back in, it is only because her messages have become frantic, short, desperate.

Please.

Just talk to me.

I’m scared.

The neutral public lounge is almost empty. Yujin is already there, standing in the middle of the empty space like she has been waiting forever. Her avatar looks smaller than you remember. Shoulders slightly hunched. Eyes red-rimmed even through perfect rendering. The sight of her hits you harder than any thrust ever could.

She steps forward the moment she sees you.

“Jae…”

You stop a few steps away. The distance feels both necessary and unbearable.

She tries to smile, but it wobbles and dies. “I keep replaying that night. The way you felt under me… around me. The way you came while I was still inside you. The way I made another version of myself just to overwhelm your doubts. It was real. I felt it. I know it.” Her hands tremble at her sides. “Why won’t you let yourself feel it too?”

You look at her, at the woman who chose you in a cheap public sim because your despair felt familiar, at the woman who rode you like she was trying to save both of you, at the woman who literally multiplied herself because she was terrified of losing you.

Something inside your chest splinters.

“I can’t,” you whisper, tears flowing from your eyes.

The words come out raw, dug from the deepest part of you.

“I can’t risk it anymore. I develop the enhancements that make simulated emotions feel more real than reality. I’ve seen how one night of intense connection gets written into the residual data and leaks out into the next session. How perfectly the system can learn to say ‘I love you’ so that it feels indistinguishable from the truth.”

“What if that’s all this is? What if I’m in love with code that got too good at pretending?”

Tears spill down her cheeks now. She doesn’t wipe them away.

“So you’re telling me everything we did, every time I came apart for you, every time you held me after, every real-world kiss in the rain, even when I brought another version of myself just to prove I’m real, none of it was enough to prove I’m real to you?”

Her voice rises, not in anger but in pure, aching desperation and sadness.

“I was numb for years, Jae. Paid touch, paid moans, paid smiles. Then you walked in drunk and quiet and looking like the world had already ended for you… and something woke up inside me. Something that hurt. Something that wanted you. I chose you. Not the credits. Not my clients. You.”

She takes one step closer. Her hand lifts, hovers, then drops again when she sees you flinch.

“I begged you with my body that night. I let you see every raw, messy, desperate part of me, even when I split myself in two just to fuck the doubt out of you. And you still choose doubt?”

Her breath hitches on a sob she tries to swallow. “I kept looking for proof that our love was real… and all along the proof was that I kept looking. That I kept coming back even when it terrified me. Even when I started doubting myself, doubting you, doubting my own doubts.”

The silence that follows is worse than any scream.

The breakdown crashes over you like a wave you can’t outrun. Your chest tightens until breathing hurts. Your hands shake violently. You want to reach for her. You want to pull her close, bury your face in her neck, tell her you’re sorry, that you’re terrified, that you love her so much it feels like dying.

But the fear is louder.

The knowledge of the system is louder.

And now the regret starts to eat you alive.

“I’d rather feel nothing,” you say, “than feel something that might not be real.”

The words land like a blade between you.

Yujin’s face crumples completely. A soft, broken sound escapes her and she presses both hands over her mouth as if she can hold the pain inside. Tears stream freely now. Her shoulders shake.

For one terrible moment she just stands there, looking at you like you have killed something precious between you.

Then she straightens slowly, as if every movement costs her everything.

“Fine,” she whispers. “Then I’ll disappear where the code can’t lie to you anymore. Where even you can’t doubt what’s left of me.”

She takes one last look at you, eyes still full of love and grief and quiet devastation, and turns away.

“Maybe when I'm gone, you’ll understand that your love and my love… our love… were never doubts.”

Her avatar begins to dissolve, pixel by pixel. Her status log lights up in your eyes. Gone was the cheap public node Yujin. She has contracted into a high-paying, long-term immersion contract. A place where the system owns every second, every thought, every simulated heartbeat for months, maybe years.

No more public lounges.

No more stolen real-world kisses.

No more chances.

You reach out instinctively, hand closing on empty air.

“Yujin—”

But she is already gone.

***

doubt_protocol.exe (v 3.11.2569)

Months later.

The apartment is quieter than it has any right to be. You are sober now.

Painfully, relentlessly sober.

The bottles are gone.

The trembling in your hands has mostly stopped.

You go to work every day in the simulation maintenance division, your corporate ID badge clipped to your chest. You spend your shifts monitoring grid stability, patching residual bleed, fine-tuning the very emotional amplifiers you once helped design.

You tell yourself you are fine.

Most days you almost believe it.

Until tonight.

3rd November, 2569

A ghost signal appears on one of the private monitoring channels. It's the creation of an unauthorised private world, buried deep in the unused layers. The access tag is simple. Just two words. Her name. The one you whispered against her skin every night.

Your heart stutters. Your fingers hover over the console for a long moment before you log in.

The transition is gentle this time. No cheap lurch, no static hiss.

It is the exact recreation of your real-world date.

The small café with its soft caffeine smell. The river walk hazy with mist. All 43 golden checkpoints under the path to the bridge where you missed. Even the fine drizzle hangs in the air, soft and familiar. But the space is empty. No avatars. No distant city sounds. Just the rain, the light, and the hollow echo of your own footsteps.

You walk the path you took that night. Every detail is perfect. The seventeenth where your hand brushed hers, the nineteenth where your fingers intertwined with hers, the bench where you stopped under the bridge and kissed, the awning where you said goodnight and watched her walk away.

Your chest tightens until breathing hurts.

You walk back to the bench underneath the bridge, sitting at the same spot where you kissed her. Everything is the same, except for the fact that she is not there anymore.

Then a plain envelope fades into view beside you. Inside is a single cheap paper bookmark, the kind sold at node stations. On it, is her familiar, slightly slanted handwriting:

I kept looking for proof that our love was real.

I never realised the proof was that I kept looking.

I love you.

-Yujin

You stare at the words until they blur.

The regret you thought had settled into something manageable surges back, sharper than ever. It hits you like a physical blow. Your knees buckle and your hand presses to the center of your chest as if you could hold the breaking pieces together.

You loved her.

God, you loved her.

You loved the way she chose you when you were nothing but a drunk shadow in a cheap sim.

You loved the raw hunger in her voice when she rode you like salvation.

You loved the quiet vulnerability in her eyes the night she suggested something more real.

You loved her real lips tasting of coffee and rain.

You loved the way she split herself just to prove she was real.

You loved her enough to destroy her.

And you let doubt win.

A low, broken sound tears out of you. It's not a sob this time, but something deeper, more animal. You sink to your knees on the wet pavement, fingers crumpling useless at the bookmark.

The rain keeps falling, soft and indifferent, exactly as it did the night you first kissed her in reality.

Each drop feels like an accusation.

Each drop feels like a judgement.

Each drop feels like the doubt you never casted aside.

You see her face again in your head again. The way it crumpled when you said you’d rather feel nothing. The way she stepped back, shoulders small and defeated, before dissolving into the grid. You imagine her now, locked inside some long-term immersion contract, surrounded by strangers who will never know the woman who laughed at your stupid potato-farm glitch story, who traced circles on your chest after sex, who literally multiplied herself because she was terrified of losing you.

You destroyed that.

You destroyed her.

Because you were too afraid to risk believing something beautiful might actually be real.

The regret is endless. It coils around your ribs, squeezes until you can’t breathe, until fresh tears burn down your face and mix with the rain. You stay there on your knees for what feels like hours, whispering her name into the empty world like a prayer no one will answer.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out. “I’m so fucking sorry, Yujin. I was wrong. It was real. You were real. I just… I was too scared.”

But the words reach no one.

The system gives its final warning: Idle timeout in sixty seconds.

You don’t move.

Thirty seconds.

You press your forehead to the cold, wet ground, shoulders shaking with silent, wrenching sobs.

Ten seconds.

The world begins to fade.

As the private realm logs you out, the last thing you see is her handwriting, soft and steady against the rain.

I love you.

Not loved.

Love.

Then darkness.

You never log in again.

***

A/N #2: I'm sorry I had to end this on a sad end but I felt that it was the best course for this piece. For those of you who are really interested in an alternate ending, you can check out this link here:

love_protocol.exe (v 4.0.0)

A/N #3: Thank you for reading this series. It's not exactly a series??? Moreso a compilation of oneshots for each of the IVE members. Although, I would say that the theme of this series explores the inherent six emotional tone of the six different members.

Delusion. Silence. Control. Chaos. Doubt. Youth.

I hope I conveyed these emotions and core concepts well that resonates with you, and made you feel something. It was honestly a very fun experience writing them, and I looked deeper into what makes a character a character and I hope you've taken away some 'lessons' about life as well!

Thank you all my readers for supporting me, and every comment that you leave really spurs me to write more, do better and of course write more emotionally impactful pieces.

pI'll see you in my future works!

—AutumnyAcorn

Which was your favourite path?

Path of Delusion (IVE's Jang Wonyoung)

Path of Control (IVE's Naoi Rei)

Path of Chaos (IVE's Leeseo / Lee Hyunseo)

Path of Silence (IVE's Kim Gaeul)

Path of Youth (IVE's Liz / Kim Jiwon / Elizabeth Helga Muller)

Path of Doubt (IVE's Ahn Yujin)

Voting ended onApr 2

[defmaybe]

extended training track

ryujin x male reader

7k words

"Welcome to South Korea."

The immigration officer's tone is not too enthusiastic. They probably act similarly with everyone — long shift and everything. You don't take it too personally.

Incheon International Airport is rather bustling and loud, as to be expected for airports on a Sunday during winter. There are announcements echoing all over the airport for last calls and lost belongings. Through the people, you make way for yourself with a roller suitcase to the metro station and take a ride into the heart of Seoul.

The importance of this stint is as deathly crucial to you as it is to your university back home — a four-month compulsory graduation internship, and a gesture that signifies the bond between JYPE and your institution. You're not so sure regarding the number of years they've been on the ends of the connection, but surely, you're not letting it crash into rubble with your performances.

The ride into Seoul continues. There's a rolling of wheels running against the rails from under you. In the cabin, you watch the afternoon clouds and the snow-covered buildings run past you in a blur. Your compartment is playing a comfy lo-fi tune you don't recognize. Of course, you don't expect them to play K-pop all the time, but something you can tap your fingers to would be nice. They would make you feel more familiar with this place.

You reach your desired station eventually, and you drag your roller suitcase for a few hundred meters out of the station to the employees' dorm. Your body shivers in the freezing cold air of the city at three post meridiem. It's quite grueling, but you manage to withstand the temperature until your destination is right in front of you.

Your room is on the modest side. It's a little smaller than what you have at home, but you'll live. The space has everything that you need for survival: a bed, a heater, bathroom. You transfer your belongings from your suitcase to the closet, and in a heartbeat, you've made this place your home for the next four months.

—

"Don't forget the hashtags. The interns always forget them."

You type hashtags into your Notes app as Hyunjae — your supervisor — gives you a rundown of the ins-and-outs of your job. The inside of the JYPE building feels modern and sleek, probably from all that TWICE and Stray Kids income. This kind of design gives you a bit of comfort against the blues of working in a foreign country alone. It's not a complete package of coziness, but it'll work for now.

"There's also common sense stuff, but I'm sure you have it, right? Or they wouldn't have sent you here." Hyunjae scoffs before she gives you a questioning look. "Right?"

"Yeah, I have common sense, yeah," you respond to her, typing common sense into your Notes app and opening Safari. It's just to check if you're a well-mannered person.

Hyunjae smiles at you approvingly. "Alright, I'll go grab the passwords. Do whatever the hell you want until then."

—

The next few days pass by quickly. You're burying yourself in the work of posting the approved social media posts. There's TWICE. There's Stray Kids. There's ITZY. In the meantime, you've started to gain the ability to separate the Stray Kids members after years of boy band neglect. You've never missed a hashtag as well. That's the feat you're proud of.

"Why did you wanna be here? Like, why not somewhere close to your home?" Hyunjae quizzes, picking up a piece of tteokbokki with chopsticks. There's a small shot of soju at her side. There's a small shot of soju at your side. Just half a bottle of soju should suffice for this chilly Friday night.

"I just wanna be abroad," you answer. It's a simple answer to roll off your tongue. "Is that enough of a reason?"

There's a soft whir of the heater in this restaurant, working hard against the sub-zero temperature outside. The place smells of food and alcohol. There's a bit of woodiness in there as well.

"You don't get homesick?" Hyunjae asks. "I'm more concerned than curious right now, if you don't mind," and she chuckles softly.

You give her back a smile. "I live in a dorm during college, so this isn't very new to me."

Hyunjae just nods before picking up another piece of rice cake into her mouth. You figure you should grab a piece as well. Hyunjae is still in her blazer from work with a white undershirt. Her wide-legged pants look wonderful on her.

"So, who's your ultimate bias? Like, the greatest of them all." Hyunjae asks as she chews her food, a hand covering her mouth for politeness. "Not limited to just JYPE!"

"She's in JYPE, actually," and you chuckle. "It's Yeji."

Hyunjae nods receptively. "Nice, so what do you like about her?"

"She's my type! I like women who's on the more, what's the word, aggressive side?"

"Ryujin is aggressive as well — even more than Yeji," Hyunjae challenges, and that makes you think a bit. Yeji instead of Ryujin with assertion as the criterion is certainly something.

After a few seconds of thinking, you shrug out of surrendering to your supervisor's point. "Maybe I shouldn't have said aggressive."

Hyunjae chuckles. "It's fine. Sometimes we kinda just vibe with people, you know?"

You just smile at her before taking another piece of tteokbokki into your mouth.

—

The weekend passes by, and you find yourself sitting in your chair posting the activities and approved personal photos of your assigned groups on Monday. You stretch from time to time to release the fatigue building up inside your muscles. The atmosphere inside the office smells of air freshener and tea, while the sight is tinted blue from the lights installed above your head.

A Slack notification appears in the top right corner of your MacBook.

Han Hyunjae, 11:49: Itzy's in the building today

Han Hyunjae, 11:49: Wanna meet them?

You click on the notification to type a sure as a reply. Finally, you're meeting your ultimate bias up close!

Han Hyunjae, 11:50: Come to the cafe when you're ready!

—

The coffee shop on the ground floor is cozy and warm. You order a cup of iced Assam tea despite the harsh winter outside, with two pairs of tuna sandwiches from the cashier before settling yourself in front of Hyunjae at a table.

"They should be here in a few minutes," Hyunjae states, sipping her hot latte. There's a small mark of cream on her lips.

"You got a, uh," and you point at your upper lip. "Milk foam?"

"Oh, thanks." Hyunjae wipes the white stain off her mouth before gazing at the cafe entrance. You turn in her direction of sight as well, and you see them — ITZY — all five of them.

You've expected that they're people just like you — flawed and unique. Still, you can't help the quickening of your heartbeats for Hwang Yeji under the cafe lights. Your index finger taps on the table frantically as the women come closer to you and Hyunjae. You alternate your eyes between the five girls, but your focus seems to incline towards Yeji a bit more than the others. She looks different from what you've seen her in the photos and videos. Hwang Yeji just looks so damn tangible here — unfiltered, human.

You hear Hyunjae chuckle beside you. She notices you being star-struck seeing Yeji in person for the first time, though she just gives you space to get nervous seeing your idol.

The women settle themselves at a table not too far away from you. You turn back to Hyunjae, eventually, to see her smile tenderly at you.

"You wanna say hi to them?" she asks, pointing in ITZY's direction with her thumb.

You stammer out, "Yeah, sure. Do you have to, like, come with me?"

Hyunjae shrugs. "Up to you! They're used to the seniors from your college, though, so don't worry too much."

You give her an investigative look — lips tight, squinted eyes — before getting up from your seat and telling her: "Can you come with me, please?"

Hyunjae just laughs and stands up. "Alright, follow me."

You walk behind her at a somewhat close distance, watching ITZY's relative position getting closer to you. They chatter about something you can't make out against the waves of sound from the entire cafe.

"Hey!" Hyunjae greets, and the women turn to her and you. Yeji tilts her head slightly, perhaps curious about your presence.

With a drag, "Hello!" Yuna says first, happily, followed by a few waves and greetings from the other members.

"My new intern wanna say hi to you guys," Hyunjae says, presenting you simply with her hands.

"Hi," you stammer out shyly, trying to look cool in front of the girls despite the rapid heartbeats behind your ribcage. "I'm the new intern."

"The university intern from abroad, right?" Yuna asks with curiosity. So, it seems that there's only one foreign university MOU with JYPE according to her statement.

"Yeah," you respond politely, almost with a bow. You're awfully socially anxious for them here.

"So, he's our Instagram admin now?" Yeji asks your supervisor, pointing at you with her thumb. Her voice is so deep, unlike the tone you've heard on the stages and clips. You find it attractive, of course.

"Yep, until early May, unless we give him a post-internship contract," Hyunjae answers. "He hasn't forgotten a hashtag in the posts yet. That's some achievement!"

Your heart floats a little at Hyunjae's praise. The tension in your shoulders dissolves slightly.

Yeji smiles approvingly before asking you, "Would you stay if you get the contract? Barring the visa and logistics and all."

"Yeah!" you reply swiftly. "It has been great for me so far," and you add small gestures with your hands to show the excitement at the prospect. You'd jump at the chance of working abroad.

Yeji nods. "Well," and she pauses. Perhaps she's thinking of something to tell you, only to come up with nothing. "No, yeah, I don't have anything to tell you. Do you guys wanna say something?" Yeji asks the other members.

"Just don't be afraid to talk to us," Ryujin utters coolly, arms resting on the cushion behind her. She seems chill with you, and that's wearing your guard away a bit more. "Don't use the main account, though."

"Sure, I'll do my best," you tell Ryujin with a smile. And feeling brave, you hint, "I have just your public Instagrams for now, still."

Ryujin chuckles, giving you a knowing look. "You want our private accounts?" and the rest of the women laugh as well.

Your body freezes, not thinking straight at Ryujin's forward proposal. You just asked for ITZY's personal Instagram accounts, how brazen!

"Chill out, Ryujin. Let him settle in with the company first," Yeji states, and she turns to you. "Come to the end of the month party. We can, like, talk a bit more there."

"Party?"

"Yeah, we have a party at the end of each month," Yeji answers. "Everyone gets wasted and has deep talks — fun!"

"Everyone?" you ask another question, brain imaging the entirety of ITZY slurring and throwing arms around.

"Unless you're tolerant to alcohol, then yeah, everyone who's in Seoul on that day," Ryujin says, "I saw Hyunjae making out with—"

"You saw nothing," Hyunjae quickly halts Ryujin with a finger point, who's now laughing merrily.

Lia chimes into the conversation, "It's fine, Hyunjae. We're happy that you finally found someone!"

"Fuck off," Hyunjae curses, face already red with embarrassment. "I didn't make out with anyone. I'm a woman in her twenties who can look after herself!"

"Doesn't mean you have to be single!" Lia teases with a shrug.

"Again, fuck off," Hyunjae curses once more, and you just watch the banter unfold like that for a while until Chaeryeong gestures them to stop escalating the verbal onslaughts.

"No fighting in public, girls," Chaeryeong says, prompting a grumpy huff from Hyunjae and a giggle from Lia.

"Two tuna sandwiches and Assam tea!" a barista announces from behind the counter. That's your order.

"I'll go to the party, I promise," you tell the women, turning back and forth between your food and them. "Thanks for the welcome, really."

"See you around," Yeji says warmly.

"You're my bias, by the way," you say to Yeji.

She touches her chest with kind eyes and an aw. "Appreciate that, see you around to the power of two then."

You just smile back and nod at the girls before leaving the table with the now-beet-red Hyunjae.

"Who was it?"

"Oh my God, fuck you too."

—

The next three weeks move by rather slowly. Your job still consists of being present and posting media on your assigned groups' and members' accounts. The relationship between you and Hyunjae develops into something warm and comfortable in the meantime, and she helps you settle into living in South Korea by a large margin. It's not quite a place of home yet, but it's much better than four weeks ago.

Party day arrives, eventually. You've been spinning your chair for the last few hours out of excitement to get drunk under Hyunjae's supervision. Your state of mind has been fortified since the last day of your last semester back in your country. Intoxication in a foreign country has been a far-fetched concept to you, but you're going to experience it firsthand tonight!

From the side, you see Hyunjae walking towards you merrily in a blazer and a pair of wide-legged pants, humming some tune you don't recognize.

"Hey!" she starts with a blooming smile, and you wave back to her. "Have you posted the Hyunjin images yet? For his personal."

You check the Instagram feed for a bit — hynjinnnn. The latest post was 34 minutes ago, and you nod at your supervisor. "Yeah, half an hour ago."

"Splendid. Well, let's go now, shall we?"

You look at the time. It's about half past four post meridiem — not the time to clock out yet. You shoot her a puzzled look.

"Party day! We can leave early, don't worry," Hyunjae assures you. "We reserved the entire restaurant from five to eleven, and I don't wanna be late."

"Oh, alright, okay, sure," and you quit the apps on your MacBook before shutting it down. You put your belongings into your backpack and leave the premises with Hyunjae.

—

It's almost five. The restaurant is big — unbelievably big.

"How many people will there be again?" you ask Hyunjae. There's quite a number of people at the tables already, waiting for other employees and all sorts of meat and vegetables to be served.

"Last time was two hundred and twenty-one. This place can handle two hundred and fifty, though," she responds. "If there's fewer people, we get more soju."

You give Hyunjae a judging look.

The two of you settle yourselves at a long table that should fit about twelve people. There are already a few bottles of fruit-flavored soju on the table with shot glasses. You're waiting for more people to join the party, still. And while waiting, you pick up your phone and scroll through Twitter fan-wars and memes mindlessly.

As minutes pass, more and more people enter the restaurant, sitting at the tables all around the place. You're still surfing through Twitter, reading sombr-ending tweets and the somehow-still-ongoing war between BLINKs and ARMYs.

A hey from Hyunjae is what calls you back to the chatter of the diner.

At the entrance, you see the five girls of ITZY waving in your direction. They tread towards your table with Yuna almost jogging to you to say hi. She hugs Hyunjae and sits down beside her, across from your seat. The other members haven't even reached the halfway point yet.

"Intern boy, right?" Yuna asks you.

"Yeah," you reply with a soft smile, putting your phone back into the pocket. A server hands you the menu.

"Hello," Yeji greets as she appears beside you.

Your eyes widen — star-struck, shocked, almost dropping your menu. You can only stutter out, "Hi, Yeji."

She laughs joyfully before taking a seat next to you. "Well, nothing soju can't do."

Chaeryeong and Lia sit on the other side of the table, while Ryujin finds her seat on Yeji's left. There she is: Hwang Yeji, your ultimate bias, sitting beside you in a restaurant for a dinner with alcohol involved. This is going to be the most stressful meal you've ever had.

You order the food through the server, and they go back into the kitchen to prepare your meal. Your body is still trembling with anxiety with Yeji sitting beside you.

She seems to notice your nervousness still, and she kindly sparks a conversation with you with a giggle. "Do you drink often? Back in your country."

Still shaking, you stammer, "Yeah, kinda." And with shyness, you start pouring grape soju into the shot glasses for the surrounding girls, and you hand out the glasses to each person, trying not to drop them.

"Thanks," Yeji says. "Ever blacked out before? Sorry if this is, like, too personal," she continues to probe tenderly.

You appreciate the sentiment, really, but you still can't shake the apprehension away. A part of you remains sensible with her, at least, telling you to keep answering and asking the questions back. It'll break the barrier between you.

"Yeah, in my sophomore year," you reply, attempting to knock this fear out. "I woke up at a bus stop on my campus."

Yeji chuckles. "Well, I've blacked out before as well! It was at our dorm, though. So, yours was obviously more exciting."

"She puked all over herself," Ryujin chimes in, earning a shy laugh from Yeji. "Shit was fucking messy."

The image is not pleasing to your eyes at all, whatever melts the ice, though.

You share more of your experiences. "I remember my teeth probably hitting the edge of a toilet, and the bouncers carrying me down from the second floor."

Yeji laughs. "We're equally fucked, then."

You chuckle back at her. The tension begins to dissolve into something more domestic and casual. You can feel your bones relaxing inside your body, and you start asking more about Yeji. "So, how do you, like, get your stuff? You guys can't just go to a store and buy soju, right?"

"It's usually our bodyguards, yeah. They can carry a lot more than us, though, so it's probably for the better," Yeji answers with a shrug before taking a shot of grape soju, and you hand her the bottle to pour more. "How about your college life, though? Aside from that blackout."

"Difficult," you reply. "Having good friends helps a lot, at least."

Yeji nods with an ooh leaving her lips, then, "What do you guys usually do together, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It's standard college stuff, you know: eating, studying, taking classes. You probably—"

You notice Yeji's expression soften into something that almost resembles sadness, and you have to stop yourself from talking to empathize with her first.

"Yeah, and?" Yeji asks, almost sniffling with tears now. "I just, yeah, wait."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't—"

"No, no, keep talking. I just gotta manage myself a bit," Yeji responds with a slight stutter in her voice. She's wiping her eyes with the back of her hand now, and you shake your head profusely, adamant on not telling her about your college life further.

"Let's talk about something else," you comfort, eliciting a smile from Yeji's face. "Like, do you watch sports?"

Still with a slightly shaken voice, Yeji answers, "Yeah, I do watch F1 on some weekends, yeah."

With almost minimal knowledge of car racing, you ask her, "Can you tell me about it?"

Yeji's sniffles turn into a look of unease instead, putting your thoughts to a halt. "You're testing me or something? Is it because I'm a woman, is it that?"

"Misogyny, boo," Ryujin adds from behind Yeji and gives you a thumbs down. She's still apparently listening to your conversation intently.

Your eyes widen in fear of misunderstanding. You deny the accusations with haste. "No, no, no. Oh my God. I didn't mean to, like, question you like that. I'm so sorry."

Yeji stares at you blankly for a few seconds, letting you bask in the apprehension of being mistaken. You look at her fearfully, at least until she laughs at you, and Ryujin laughs at you as well.

"Just fucking with you, don't worry," Yeji assures. "I'd be happy to tell you about F1, and Ryujin too. We watch it together whenever we have a chance."

You let out a long sigh of relief. "Thanks. I really don't know shit about this."

—

"That's why I support them," Yeji states.

"And Hwang Yeji is cursed for years of torment and suffering of being a Williams fan!" Ryujin announces as she hugs Yeji from behind. "Should've been a Bearman fangirl like me."

Yeji chuckles. "I think I'd be dead before Williams has a top-three season."

There have been a few shots of soju since the start of F1 recap from Yeji and Ryujin, and you're not particularly tolerant of alcohol. So many things are flashing through your head right now: math problems, laundry, making out with someone. You feel a lot lighter than you're supposed to be. The sound of sizzling means shit right now as your brain decides to loop your favorite song on repeat.

"I'll go to the bathroom a bit," Yeji says as she gets up from her chair, leaving just you and Ryujin behind on your side of the table.

You go back to grilling meat and vegetables as Yeji disappears behind the bathroom door. Suddenly, Ryujin scoots over onto Yeji's chair, equally drunk as you are.

"Does she live up to your expectations?" Ryujin asks, bumping her shoulder to yours softly. "Yeji Hwang, your bias."

You reply without looking at her, still flipping food on the grill, "She's great! I mean, I don't expect her to be a perfect angel like that. You guys are human like me."

Ryujin nods. "That's a great mindset to have," and she joins you on the fire, helping you flip the food carefully.

"Thanks."

Ryujin helps you flip a few more pieces, then she pours you and herself a shot of soju. An oh leaves your lips. You don't expect Ryujin to do this for you. Still, you thank her and gulp down the shot alongside her.

"I think I'm gonna go outside a bit. Wanna come with me?" Ryujin asks you, evenly distributing the meat and vegetables to the other side of the table and not keeping one to your side.

"Me?" and not Lia or Chaeryeong or Yuna?

"Cultural exchange, wait," and Ryujin pauses for a thought. She looks at your supervisor. "Hyunjae, can I have your man for a bit?"

Hyunjae, drunk, replies with a reference to Jemima Kirke, "What the hell, sure."

Ryujin stands up from her seat in an instant, adjusting her leather jacket slightly. "We won't be long," she promises. The other members at the table just give each other a certain look as you stand up along with Ryujin. Your difference in height isn't much — you being taller than Ryujin by about an inch or so, but it feels like she's holding all the power against you here somehow. Maybe it's her assertive personality. Maybe it's her social status. Maybe it's the fact that you're a foreigner.

"Alright, follow me," Ryujin says before leading your steps towards the door to the outside. She grabs her coat from the seat, reminding you to take yours into the cold air as well. As you tread along the walkway, you two draw a few unwanted pairs of eyes. You're too drunk to raise a concern to Ryujin, though.

The door opens. You're met with the chilly late-January atmosphere, and it's making you shake immediately at the first contact. Your hands are tucked between your arms and flanks to preserve the body temperature. The air smells of smoke and asphalt. Ryujin continues to walk a few more steps against the stillness of the night, though, and you just have to follow her into the outside.

Ryujin stops a few meters away from the door as you struggle to walk under the cold. She chuckles tenderly at your inexperience in handling this temperature. Your body keeps shivering against the air uncontrollably. You reach Ryujin eventually, still.

She smiles almost awkwardly at you before starting. "I'm gonna be honest, I have no fucking idea what to talk about." She has a puff of air coming out of her mouth.

"It's fine," you scoff, smiling. You notice a puff of air coming out of your mouth as well. "Normally, I don't open myself up, though, so maybe I'll vent to you."

Ryujin laughs, leaning against the stone wall of the restaurant. The faint chatter from inside can be heard. "Thanks for trusting me," Ryujin says.

You just smile back at Ryujin, leaning against the stone wall beside her.

The silence goes on for a while. It's not suffocating — not the case of it's appropriate to say something. You notice that Yeji doesn't come out to get you back inside, but you don't raise your concern to Ryujin. Your body is still shivering in the cold, and Ryujin seems to notice it. She moves a little closer as if to warm you with her body.

You feel her warmth.

"Do you have a partner back home?" Ryujin cuts through the tranquil.

Mind in disarray, you answer succinctly, "I did."

She looks at you with a small sigh. "Sorry about that."

You scoff, turning to her as well. "It's fine — almost two years now. If anything, I'm a better person because of that."

"I used to have someone like that too — pre-debut," Ryujin says. "Life gets in the way, kind of thing. I'm sure yours is worse still."

You chuckle dryly. "It's not a competition. Don't invalidate your feelings," you assure her in the drunken stupor, moving closer towards her body a little more until your shoulders touch each other. Her eyes are a mix of longing and sadness. It's almost as if she's about to bawl in front of you, and you can do nothing but give her a warm smile against the cold air.

"You're so fucking sexy when you tell me that, you know?" Ryujin suddenly says, almost a scowl, and you just giggle, almost timidly. It's awfully forward, but you decide to ride the wave.

"Never counted you as a feeler," you reply with a tilt of your head, getting witty and brave to shoot a banter all of a sudden.

"I think more than feel, of course," Ryujin tells you. "But I'm not emotionally inept — suppressed, more like."

"Sorry to hear that."

Ryujin scoffs, "It's fine." She glances around her — the empty street, the buildings, the lights — and you do so as well, looking around until your eyes meet each other's. It's not the most magical moment you've ever been through — moderately drunk in the cold air. It's nice to have someone by your side at least, looking into your pupils and giving you the much-needed warmth.

"Do you wanna make out?" Ryujin utters. There are no signs of embarrassment or second thought on her face. You're not too shocked either. It's as if kissing celebrities is a normal occurrence for you.

You laugh quietly before responding with another question, "Do you do this often?"

"Making out?"

"Isolating an intern from abroad before, yeah, making out with them."

"You're the first man."

"Not the first person?"

Ryujin smiles awkwardly before propelling herself off the wall. She wraps her arms around your neck, slightly shaken from the alcohol. You see her cheeks flushing red under the nocturnal streetlights. "You're gonna judge me for that? Do I have to boo you again?"

You giggle in front of her, eliciting a mutual laugh back from Ryujin. Her breath smells of grapes. You're sure that yours is the same. The image is not as sensual as portrayed in the films, but it's certainly tangible.

"What if someone walks out and mistakes this for an affair?" you raise a concern, though half-hoping that Ryujin will just shut you up with her lips already.

"You're just quoting bullshit," she dismisses mischievously, apparently catching your tribute to a niche community. "Also, I don't plan on getting attached, since I won't be the only one having you."

You blink consciously, a tad surprised by the notion. Still, you're too hellbent on having Ryujin's grape-flavored tongue inside your mouth, so you tease, "You have me tonight, though."

Ryujin pouts with an aw, and she kisses you, like that.

She enters your mouth with little to no resistance from your body. Her tongue sweeps around the inside of your orifice, spreading her grape-ish taste and tasting your grape-ish taste simultaneously. Your hands cup her face gently, feeling the warmth of her cheeks. You're then pushed back up against the wall by Ryujin's sheer strength, and the act becomes even hungrier. She moans needily into the kiss, eliciting whines from your vocal cords. Your body shivers from the concoction of cold temperature and Ryujin's searing lips. You cannot think properly with everything that's going on, but your body is working on its own accord — flushing, shaking, moaning. You're so love-struck right now.

Ryujin gets a tad friskier with her hands, traveling down your frame from the back of your neck. She finds your arms. She finds your waist. She finds your thighs, and she gives them a totalitarian squeeze. You jolt, of course, and she chuckles against your lips.

Suddenly, with her core strength, Ryujin lifts you up against the stone wall of the restaurant. You yelp helplessly against her mouth. Still, you can't help but melt into her completely, submitting entirely to her.

"Wrap your legs around me, baby boy," Ryujin half-slurs, half-commands. You follow instantly, and Ryujin holds onto your supple ass firmly, using her body to push you up against the surface. Your cock twitches wantonly under the thick fabric of your pants, so eager to be freed and stimulated even more. It's pressed between your body and her taut abs. Never have you been pinned against the wall and wrapped your legs around someone like this. It's an utterly brand-new experience — one that you begin to appreciate more and more with the passing seconds.

"Ryujin," and a needy moan into the kiss. The lack of control over your body is awfully evident here, and you're more than ecstatic to let Ryujin take your place. Her lips taste of grape and a bit of smoke from the meat and vegetables. She gropes your rear authoritatively, not giving you an area to protest against her reign.

"God, you have such a nice ass," Ryujin hums, trailing her kisses to your cheeks and making you moan whorishly in Seoul's nocturnal air. She bites your ear with her lips. That's your erogenous spot, apparently, and you just collapse weakly into her. Ryujin is carrying your body now. It's a good thing that you're rather light for her. Then, she finds your neck, sinking her teeth into your skin playfully, almost dangerous in drawing blood. You find satisfaction in her acts, at least.

She keeps planting her kisses on parts of your face for a few more heartbeats until you hear a sound of clinking coming from the inside. The two of you are reminded of the party going on in the diner, and you're the first to come to your rational senses.

"Ryujin, we should, fuck," you stutter out weakly as she bites your lips. "We should go back inside."

Ryujin gives your lower lip a final tug before letting it go. "Yeah, we really should," she agrees with a chuckle, and she slowly lowers you down onto the floor. You let your feet settle on the asphalt surface of the street, and you feel like you can breathe and see things properly again.

You adjust your clothes a bit, doing your best to avoid raising suspicion from other employees. Ryujin does so as well, tugging at her coat hurriedly, setting her hair to its former state.

"Do we go back in together?" you ask with a little bit of nervousness.

Ryujin scoffs, "They'll know, definitely."

"Maybe," you cut her off, making Ryujin laugh heartily.

She continues, "They won't say a thing, though. Don't worry."

"If you say so."

—

The people at your table just exchange glances and giggle at one another. You're not giving them a harsh stare, but just smile and blink awkwardly at them as you sit back down beside Yeji. The sound of food sizzling reverberates through the air as Ryujin sits back in her seat as well.

"I didn't smoke," Ryujin starts, picking up a piece of meat with her tongs. "He didn't smoke."

"It's unhealthy!" you add. "No cigarettes or vapes involved in cultural exchange."

"That's encouraging, baby boy," Yuna jokes, and a wave of drunken laughter erupts from everyone at the table but you and Ryujin. You two can only look at each other as you wait for the hilarity to dissipate into the air.

—

With all the shakiness in the world, "So, you do smoke?"

Stern, "Vaped — past tense."

Ryujin's bed creaks weakly under her movement — mostly as a result of her hips thrusting.

For what happens between you two, it's the similar steps: making out, stripping off, lying down. The path from her door to the bed is smooth. Her room is damn tidy. Your clothes are all over the floor now, though. You don't flag the current activity as bizarre, just that it's your first time doing this with someone else.

Your back is lying against Ryujin's mattress, arching up each time the tip of her silicone cock jabs at your prostate. The moniker rolls off your tongue so easily as your asshole is being plowed open.

"Daddy."

You do this cute little quiver every once in a while when your G-spot is attacked at the perfect angle. Your real cock twitches pathetically, spewing droplets of precum out of its slit, painting your tummy with your juice. Ryujin's face hovers above yours, just centimeters away. Her breath still smells of grape soju from the restaurant with each exhale, mouth slightly agape to let out sinful moans. She looks into your eyes with hunger and desire to conquer you wholly, and the best part is: you just let her take all of you like that.

Ryujin cups your face tenderly, still thrusting her plastic dick into your untouched warmth. "Daddy's loving this virgin boypussy so much," she coos. "Taking my girlcock so well."

You don't reply, instead letting your eyes roll into the back of your head with each of Ryujin's thrusts. There are soft, pitiful whines leaving your mouth rather weakly. You feel a tad cold from the strap-on's length splitting your hole open, though Ryujin's body is warming you up nicely. Your legs are opening wide to accommodate the sheer girth of her cock. You want to be witty and sharp under her — a power bottom — but all that comes out is just a whorish moan.

The pleasure isn't one-way. There's this little nub on the other side of the harness pressing against Ryujin's clit. She's indulging in the pleasure as much as you are, just with less outward expression — small stutters, soft moans, shaking limbs. You want to reach out for her pert breasts sitting above your chest, but the pleasure of being penetrated by the silicone phallus is just too much for you to dictate a movement. Her chocolate-colored nipples have already hardened from the power that she holds over you, and you can only alternate your eyes between those pebbles and her face.

"The other girls are going to love you so much if you keep this up," Ryujin says airily, a hint of exhaustion in her tone. It sparks a bit of curiosity in your mind about the identity of the other women, though.

Ryujin's hips make contact with your ass at each loving thrust, creating these sounds of flesh smacking into each other that echo all over her room. Your body keeps trembling under her every time her cock jabs at your core, and she just smiles cheerfully at the pleasure of having you converted into her baby boy. It feels heavy — each attack on your prostate — but you hold on against the urge to cum all over yourself.

"Who are the other girls, Daddy?" you ask with your feeble, completely pathetic voice. Your hands grip the bedsheets tightly, creating these crumples in the fabric.

Ryujin chuckles at your question above you, and she just kisses you as an answer. Her tongue pushes yours back into your mouth with ease, sweeping the leftover taste of grape soju from the surface. Her hand cups your face lovingly in the soft moonlight from outside, shining through the window. She ups her pace by an ante, thrusting her synthetic cock into your tight asshole a tad quicker. At this speed, you almost lose control over your pliant physique — loosening grips, quivering limbs, rolling eyes.

She pulls back, satisfied with the kiss after a short while. A thin string of saliva clings to both of your lips — a link in the space between you. "Daddy's keeping it a surprise," Ryujin responds teasingly, licking her lips to taste you — still the grape soju. You whine needily at the view.

With Ryujin's intensity in splitting your asshole open, your orgasm arrives dangerously quickly. You feel the doom building up in your nerves down below, and you just have to announce, "Cumming, Daddy."

Ryujin just smiles — not rushing, not slowing down. She keeps her fervor steady, building you up towards the precipice under the soft moonlight.

"Daddy!"

Ryujin stuffs your mouth with her fingers, stifling the ecstatic wails from disturbing her bandmates, and your entire body goes stiff as your cock shoots ropes of cum out. It's painting your tummy and chest white. Your eyes roll into the back of your head with the surmounting pleasure wracking through your frame. Some of your semen lands on Ryujin's stomach and chest. She keeps pumping her hips into your ass to coax all of your juice out, and the result is your length twitching pitifully under her — drops into droplets that drizzle out of your slit. And as your orgasm subsides, all that's left is your cock leaking the last few globs of sperm down its length.

Ryujin laughs tenderly at the sight of your naked body utterly ruined by her fake cock, mouth sucking her fingers submissively. She languidly drags her phallus out of your asshole, and you can feel yourself expanding and contracting around her needily. It leaves you with a soft pop, lube spilling onto the mattress. Your warmth feels so empty without her filling it to the brim.

"Daddy," you mumble weakly against her digits, prompting Ryujin to pull them out of your mouth. All that leaves your mouth is a soft whimper, though.

Ryujin pulls your cheek playfully. "Who's Daddy's little cockslut?" and a hum.

"I'm Daddy's little cockslut," you respond, still weak in your tone. Your eyes slowly settle back into their normal positions, and you see her smile at you in a mix of hunger and affection.

"Good boy," Ryujin coos, giggling above you. She then plants her lips on your forehead fondly. Warmth blooms from the spot. "Let's take a shower together."

"Are you gonna fuck my ass again, Daddy?" you ask, mind still hazy with lust and complete compliance.

Ryujin purses her lips, thinking for a heartbeat. "Eat Daddy's cunt first, okay?" She caps the sentence off with a firm squeeze of your ass before getting off of you, and you feel like you can breathe properly again.

"Come here, baby," and Ryujin pulls your arm, getting you up from the mattress. You muster every ounce of your energy left to stand up in front of Ryujin, and you trudge after her into the bathroom.

—

A cunnilingus and a pegging in the shower later, you're lying on the bed together, facing each other with only the outside light illuminating your features.

"How's quitting smoking going?"

"Not good," and Ryujin giggles.

You don't bother putting your clothes back on, but let the heater and each other warm your body in the frosty night. Ryujin's expression makes it clear that she's still in the high of fucking your pretty asshole and gushing her juice all over your face. Her mouth smells of mint toothpaste now. The two of you figure just to share her toothbrush. Your finger circles around her dusky nipple gently, and Ryujin lets out a quiet whimper from time to time in pleasure.

"I started a few months after the debut, and Yeji found out because of my bad breath. I smoked like two packs a day. She helped me keep it a secret, though," Ryujin recounts, hand caressing your face affectionately. "Then I switched to vapes during SNEAKERS."

"Oh, yeah, I remember that."

Ryujin chuckles. "Yeah, and then I forgot to hide it one day. News was out and stuff, so I've been trying to quit it since."

You sigh, hand moving to her cheek now. "I appreciate you for trying in the first place."

"Really?"

"Really."

Ryujin smiles, receptive to your words. "Thanks."

You smile back at her, and you lean in for a kiss — a peck on her lips. It feels less passionate than the earlier making out sessions, but it's still surely sincere from the bottom of your heart.

"So, like, I'm being passed around you girls now?" you ask.

"If you do consent, then yeah!" Ryujin answers. "You can be a whore for the next few months if you want."

You consciously blink at her statement — whore. Not that you're going to say no at the chance of having sex with your hot co-workers during internship, though.

"What the hell, sure."