a/n: happy Tone day as of this post, and yeah, we're back to tripleS fics! I started writing this months ago, and I only decided to finish and post it now 'cause I couldn't get myself to write a whole new chapter. it's just a quickie, but I hope you enjoy it!
It’s Saturday. The hands of the clock on the wall just struck 12:00 midnight. Aside from the ticks of the clock coming off as louder in his ears, he can feel the toes of his beloved, fidgeting a little more beside him than usual. In the past eleven or so minutes, even this minuscule and ticklish disquietude from his girlfriend blocks him from keeping his eyes shut amidst the dim light of the bedside lamp on the nightstand.
He knows he can’t just lie there without doing anything to tend to whatever she may need or whatever she may want to rant about, as both have happened before. To his right, Myungsoo inches closer behind Kotone, gently reaching her palm so he can caress it. “Hey, babe… Can’t sleep?”
Filling up the uncomfortable silence with his concern, she rolls her body around to face him, wiggling swiftly to close their distance. It’s as if she’s been longing for his embrace longer than he expected. “Mmmm…” she groans. “I almost did. I didn’t stretch enough today… But maybe taking another cup of tea didn’t help me either, so that wasn’t fun… And don’t get me started on our company dinner… Just right when I’m still on a diet!”
With a chuckle, Myungsoo pulls his beloved into his arms and kisses her forehead three times in rapid succession. The calming scent of her bedtime perfume even eases him as he tries to soothe her, it makes him want to hug her just a little tighter. “Gwenchanayo, Tone-chan.” The woman wraps her arms around him. “I’m sure you can take tonight as a little cheat night, or something like a cheat day but at night. Is there a term for that?”
Giggling with reassurance, she finds endearment in his optimistic yet awkwardly delivered spin on her situation. “I’m sure that term is fine… Some call it that.”
“Oh, right,” the man mumbles, chuckling again, before he caresses her hair to the side. While he tries to alleviate her worry, he hopes to let out his own with her, before it also consumes him. “And uhh, I’m sorry, too, babe... You didn’t have to come here tonight.”
“Oppa… You have nothing to apologize for, especially when I made that choice,” Kotone whines, nuzzling into his chest before leveling his eyes. “I rarely get to spend time these days, and you made the effort to stay at my place for the last three because I was busy.”
He reaches his left hand above her head, slowly fixing her hair. Myungsoo sees her point, although he can’t help but feel more for Kotone’s struggle to get a good sleep, considering the effort she made just to be here. “I just thought maybe you could have gotten a better sleep if I didn't have to make you take another train ride to spend a—”
Unable to hold in her wide, closed smile, Kotone inches her lips and closes her eyes, crashing them onto him to shut down his misgiving with her more tender gesture of appreciation. The gratitude of being in his arms in a midnight as simple as this one. Kotone knew exactly what he was going to say—but contrary to his concern, she has never felt more at home, especially her own beloved’s, probably more than her own.
After a few seconds of listening to each other’s lips smacking each other and whiffing a scent of the same toothpaste on each other’s mouths, they part as Kotone takes a good look at him. “Don't worry about anything, oppa…” Her fingers reach under the hem of his shirt. “Nowadays, I'd rather lose a night with you…than keep sleeping on my own.”
Hair on his skin begins to stand up. “But, umm,” she continues, the same hand moving down onto his bulge to check on his flaccid manhood—slowly inflating within seconds. “Considering how we're still both insomniacs right now, tell me what would you like.”
Despite feeling a little flustered, intrigue forms with Myungsoo’s smile. “Tell you what?”
“Your ideal birthday to be,” she completed her sudden request. That just threw him off, making him a little more awake than ever. The two have celebrated years of each other’s birthdays, but this is the first year they’ll be doing it as a couple. At least with Myungsoo, Kotone’s gotta make him feel that it’ll be a memorable milestone if she makes it a reality.
As of now, he had almost forgotten. It’s about to take place in the next two weeks, yet they’ve barely talked about it since the first week of the month. Not that he wants or expects either of them to. “Are you going to act like an event planner for me, too?”
“Yah…” she shakes her head. “Don’t get too many ideas, it just came into my mind.” Perhaps, if their appetites are still full to help them with sleep, it would be having a couple of “foods for thought” that will help them feel entertained around this hour, slowly bringing out another form of appetite from their bodies. Heat is building up.
He raises his right hand as he scratches his hair, still figuring out how to answer. “Well, umm, I don’t want to be the party pooper, but I thought you'd want it to be a surprise?”
“It still is…” She can feel her cheeks warming up. “Just, ummm, curious, that’s all.”
His right eyebrow raises, his lower teeth sinking into his upper lips. “How curious?”
Out of nowhere, she takes his hand out of her own and places it under her right breast, with him just realizing she had unbuttoned her pajama. Staring deeply into his eyes, she doesn’t answer his question. Perhaps it is just a daring hint she’s willing to give him. His eyes widened, loss for words. “Tone-chan…” And yet, his confounded tone is telling. He doesn’t want to say no, because there’s no reason for him to, he simply thinks he would be unprepared for what may come next since midnight has passed, considering they no longer have activities waiting for them outside the room.
Nevertheless, the woman is already into what she’s hoping he’d do for her, and she’s not gonna stop now. “Just, ugghhh, answer it while you, uhh, keep massaging me, hmmm?” He keeps his fingers spread open and his palm latched on her soft, round mound like a facehugger. She starts moving it in a smooth rhythm, using her partner’s hand as a tool so he can make a circular and clockwise motion on her knocker from Myungsoo’s view, until she lets out a titter, no longer able to suppress this pleasure she’s leading him on.
He does what he's told. “Okay?” he chuckles, making his hands do the deed while his still active brain tries to come up with any idea as she muffles her moans. “It can play out in many ways, depending on the situation. Some are more possible than others—”
“Aniya, aniya,” she interrupts him. “Just spill whatever comes to mind first, okay?”
He chuckles at her immediate retort, encouraging him to speak while he continues to knead her right tit. “If it's the usual one, then I’d expect three simple celebrations.”
“Three, huh?” Curiosity dominates her train of thought, despite keeping herself guarded from any answers that would disappoint her because of her much wilder imaginations.
He had to clarify, of course, not wanting to turn her off as he salivates over her tits. “Of course, the first one would be with my family, the second with my friends. The third…”
“Mmm-hmm…” Kotone licks her upper lip. Once again, she reaches out to his cock from without looking, feeling it hardening more at her second, more aggressive touch. “What is it, oppa?”
“It would be just the two of us, and uhhh…” He giggles, a little out of embarrassment, but he knows it’ll lead them in the right direction, and a better mood for his moment.
She mirrors his reaction out of adoration, awaiting his next words. “Go on…”
“I’m imagining it’ll be something more like this…” He slides his left hand on the soft and smooth mattress to reach her left breast, making Kotone gasp in surprise and exert a bit more of her weight on the bed while he finally has grasped on both of her breasts.
“Heh, heh…” She’s tempted to get up and straddle him, but now, she’d rather let him take control of this moment. Keep things chill. “Hmm… Do you mind expanding it?”
He entertains her curiosity, going along as his right fingers make their way down on her, moving them through the fabric of her pajamas. On the very spot of where her cunt is. In her cunt, his two fingers manage to make their way on her clit and even through the veil, he was able to incite a sudden moan from Kotone, affirming that he has reached her clit.
“I bet you’d want to do more…” She gives his bulge a tighter squeeze, teasing him more in hopes of getting him to get even and feel something, like she is now.
“Fuck…” The man groans with restrained stimulation. “You have no idea, Tone-chan.”
“Just you wait, oppa…” Kotone slowly moves her hand around his now exposed cock.
With his patience finally hanging on its last thread, it’s time for him to turn the tables. “I know it won't be until next year, Tone-yah. But, how about you?” He kisses her nose tip. “What's your ideal birthday?”
“I’d like it to start at midnight,” she whimpers. The gift she received from him was already special, but this treatment is new. “Exacttliiihhh… Like this… Auuuugh…”
“Go on…” He encourages her, sliding down her own pajamas with her quick assistance. With less words leaving her mouth, her seductive movements were enough indicators for him. “You’re getting somewhere here.”
“For once… I, uhh, I'd really…” She bites her lip. “Want you… To fuck me in the ass.”
Slowly, he pulls his boxers down into the level of his hips, enough to finally unleash his member, the cock Kotone has been missing in the past few days. She follows suit as she turns to the opposite side and slowly bends, exposing her bottom in front of him, while also raising her right leg, which he carries without the need for instruction. Regardless of temptation, his target is not in her ass, like they’ve both considered and entertained, but there’s no doubt this one will still be in one of their favorite quick positions to date.
He snickers. “I’ll, uhh, consider it next time, babe…” He knows they’ll definitely have to practice, or simply not surprise her into doing it. “I’m sure it won’t be an easy one.”
“Then would you mind if we do a little test run now?” she asks, stretching her butt more.
Her question alone stiffens his already hard manhood. She gets to maintain the balance of their level of influence at this moment, more in her favor as he’s left stunned. “Huh?”
“Between my legs, oppa,” she giggles, stroking his knee till her palm reaches his thighs. “I know you wanna try it, too.” She’s planted a seed of temptation into the more primal section of his brain.
Giving into his curiosity, he does what she asks, sliding his erect cock between her legs. Starting a series of slow and continuous movement in and out of her thighs, Myungsoo breathes into her right ear while still massaging her right breast. “You like that, babe?”
Her breath hitches, triggering her chuckle while she feels both his hand on her breast and his precum on her legs. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah…” Of course, her excitement has made another idea spring out of her mind. “But on second thought, I, uh, want you to aim a little higher first.”
He slowly closes his eyes, slowly getting into the rhythm of their smooth motion. “Oedi?”
“I mean between my butt cheeks,” she clarifies, unable to hold in her lustful amusement. “Your cock, do that movement between my bum, hmm?”
He stops his movement, but his manhood remains rock hard. Meanwhile, his brain tries to figure out how exactly it can work. “Oh… Are you sure?” A little puzzle he has to solve without making Kotone lose any of her steaming enthusiasm within a minute.
“Mmm-hmm…” Albeit still driven by lust, her trust in his capability remains the same. It’s not the first time they tried to experiment positions outside the missionary, so the man doesn’t waste any more time and sticks in his standing cock on the widened gap between her butt before using his hand to tighten it. So far, so good, he breathes in.
The feeling isn’t necessarily new to him, but it’s distinct from sliding between her thighs and more similar to her tight and humid slit. Kind of a mix between the two, if he has to explain it in better terms. The visual strikes more like a thick hotdog sliding between its namesake bun, just a little stickier as that their lower bodies are exposed and in contact.
“Augh,” the woman squirms a little louder, breaking through her lips. “Mmmggghhh…”
“How…” Regaining his speed with his hips, he starts to thrust again. “—is it now, babe?”
Her body slowly bends into an S shape, giving Myungsoo a better means of moving his cock more. “You tell me… Oppa… I can’t believe something as simple as this is good…”
Holding onto his grin, Myungsoo gives her compressed right cheek a squeeze, making her squeal while feeling the tightness on her bottom. “Nado,” he chuckles.
She bites her lower lip, closing her eyes once more to feel the smoothness of his standing member on her rear end. “Mmgh… How crazy it would be once it’s the real thing, right?”
“As much as the idea tempts me… This is, augh, fuck! This is more than enough!”
He speeds up his movement between her ass crack, keeping three of his fingers on her drooling slit as he makes counterclockwise motions on her. Having found a variation to fucking outside her cunt, the surge of pride within Myungsoo prompts him to multitask moving his fingers and cock on her vulva and through her crack, respectively, with some efficiency and rhythm, leaving his moaning girlfriend just as, if not a little more ecstatic.
“Put it in now, oppa…” Her moans accumulate into a loud whisper, feeling her own stimulation level up within only a couple of minutes. “My p—pussy, oppa… Jebal!”
The hurry in his partner’s voice makes Myungsoo treat her plea as a command, taking his fingers out of her clit and plunging his now lubed up cock inside her entrance. His hand now grasps under her right leg, slowly raising it while he enters her chamber. For now, they know nothing has reached the level of fucking the usual way, regardless of the position they’re in. Nothing beats this classic, the thought simmers out of his brain while keeping his momentum in this tightening hole he’s more familiar with.
Traversing through her chambers with his slow thrusts, inch by inch, Myungoo plants licks on Kotone’s neck at the same moment his right hand keeps her leg raised mid-air. At the same moment, the woman lunges her lips on his from behind. The man transfers his right hand to cup his partner’s chin, with his thumb sticking on her lower lips at the second their tongues duel for dominance. The man increases his speed as his arms hold around hers like seatbelts, allowing him to pound her pussy backwards and sideways as they fuck on his bed. Kotone begins to twerk against his pounding manhood, giving him the necessary, complementary, and stimulating force that he needs to heighten his pace.
“You have…” she huffs hoarsely, making an effort to speak to him with her palm now gripping onto his head. “No… Idea… How much—”
“I missed this?” He interjects her thoughts, sharing his own heat with hers while their pleasure keeps building up on their respective bodies. Allowing her leg to hover in the air like a cool and graceful ballerina amidst this raging lust-fueled bed, his hand slides down to her cheek for a second time. A second, tighter and longer squeeze. “Me–too!”
“Yes!” she exclaims, as if she just came earlier than he expected, which she has before this current build-up. Neighbor complaints be damned, Myungsoo knows, at least he hopes that there’s gonna be a lot more of this every weekend, day and night, with his beloved, whenever weekdays feel more swamped. “Don’t—nggiiiih—sto—opp--auh!”
“Immaaaaaauugghh c-clooooose, Tone-cha—!” he huffs, letting his hips maintain their thrusts while his eyes begin to roll to the back of his head. Through instinct, he plants his upper lip on her skin and proceeds to sucks on her shoulder along with his lower.
“Doooon't-uh puuuuull out!” she begs him, slowly arching her neck backwards from the climax she’s now moaning to. “Do--it… iiiiiin—side!”
He’s just as close, feeling his mind like a hamster inside a hamster wheel the longer his burning body takes control. And the more the pressure in his cock pulsates with his cum sipping through his tip, accumulating to a pressure he can barely hold on. For a second, his logic tries to warn the woman, having been acquainted with her cycles in the past few weeks since they got freakier. “But, Tone—”
“Pill… In—augh—morning!” She begins drooling from her mouth and stuck-out tongue, which Myungsoo takes advantage of, plunging his fingers on it to muffle her moans into carnally triggered laughter before closing her lips, tasting him and a little bit of herself. “Just, p–please, oppa!”
Giving three more thrusts and moaning deep into her trapezius, hot cum erupts out of Myungsoo’s cock, flooding Kotone’s womb. Both their legs shiver next to each other in the following seconds, taking their time to recover at the sound of their own breathing.
She turns around to face him again, still catching her breath. Addicted by her taste, Myungsoo immediately leans down to lick the sweat off of her neck and collarbone, before lunging in to kiss her tenderly. They couldn’t get enough of each other’s lips.
“Again,” she heaves with a grin, her hand holding onto his hips to keep him closer. Her hot breath not only makes his hair stand up, but also keeps his cock hardened like it’s a sleeper agent. Myungsoo realizes there’s still one more bar left in her system to keep on going. Much to his own relief, so does he.
“Gyoi…” he mumbles through her ear, widening her smile. His Japanese has improved, she realizes. With his boosted confidence, the man reinserts his cock inside his beloved's cunt with more ease and less friction thanks to their puddle of juices, making her tilt her head upwards and exhale a longer squeal out of excitement at this follow-up.
Mirroring her attempts earlier, Kotone raises her left leg higher for four seconds until it dangles on his right hip, an inverse from last time. Recalling their little chat, she doesn’t want to miss more opportunities to stretch, even as brief yet just as exciting as this, with the very man that’s driven her crazy for years, and vice-versa.
Thrusting and grinding harder with all their might, Myungsoo and Kotone are able to maintain the same strength and rhythm within half a minute until the squeaking bed can be somewhat heard from their ears, only to still be deafened by the cacophony of each other’s moans and smacking skins. There’s no holding back. Every trace of vigor and lust, they’re letting it all out of their systems till their burning lusts have drained.
Within two minutes, their moans and cries become the signal to their second climax, growing and rising in pitch just before their lips find solace in each other. As soon as their moans weaken through their kiss, Myungsoo gives one slow thrust and bursts in for a second time. Completely lightheaded, just as they intended. Their vision begins to dim slowly right after, darker than the lamp beside the bed. Despite this state, they can still hear each other’s heartbeats in the midst of their thoughts becoming scrambled and clouded by several minutes of overexertion, now both their heart and mind are begging their anchored bodies to finally do one thing, now that their worries have been burned and snuffed out by the flames of their midnight lovemaking.
Breathing heavily, Myungsoo musters enough effort to fix her hair and leave one kiss on her forehead, followed by one more on her lips. “I love you, Kotone-chan…”
Giggling through her breath, Kotone’s arms remain wrapped around his shoulders, pulling herself to keep her head on his. “I love you too, Myungsoo-oppa… Always.”
As their senses are sedated thanks to their exhaustion, the couple close their eyes with ease. Wrapped under the comforter, they’re already too weak to pull up their undergarments and pajamas, but at least they’re able to delve into their dreams, snoozing in the next seven hours and hearing the symphony of each other’s warm and calmer breaths, within each other's arms.
= = =
that's that. it's meant to be short and not plot-driven. that's why I didn't put the whole series title here, unlike with the He, She & Her, since with this one, you can just read it as a standalone quickie if you want. I won't stop writing non-tripleS fics, but I want to get back on track, especially with my series ones, so expect it in a few to several weeks, depending on my free time lol. anyway, that's all I can say for now. thank you so much for the read and till next time! take care, y'all! |˶˙ᵕ˙ )ﾉﾞ
a/n: first loona smut or whatever lol. just wanted to try writing one for a few months now, and after three or so days of writing it on a whim and about a week of editing, this is the final result. hope you like it.
also, I just noticed while editing this one, but thank you so much for 1k followers! I didn't expect it, considering how seldom I've released stuff lately, but I'll always be grateful for the read... anyways, I'm not gonna interrupt you from reading further hehe.
“Hey,” you greet Jinsol as she exits her bedroom. She rubs any trace of rheum off of her eyes. From the balcony, you walk to her at a faster pace with a warm mug in both your hands. “You woke up a little earlier than I expected, but here’s some green tea to start the day.” Right now, the sky is still too dark for your eyes to wander the beach of the California West Coast, but your room has dim lighting for you to see at this hour.
“Morning.” She takes your still untouched mug of tea and takes a quick sip. “Gomawo. I, uh, I had lots of drinks last night with the girls.” She takes another longer one before her eyes dart back to you. “And I’m surprised you didn’t touch another bottle.”
“I had a few, nothing more than three,” you clarify, keeping your hands intertwined. “And technically, I was still on the lookout for y’all, so I didn’t bother having more.” Aside from the fact that everyone else drank them first, you know it’s for the best.
“Please, that didn’t stop you before,” she points out, rolling her eyes after a teasing scoff.
“That was back then, Jinsol-ssi.” By instinct, you still keep your professional side on. “Like before everyone in the agency had a month’s worth of schedule in two weeks?”
The woman chuckles from your counter before taking her third sip. “Fair enough.” She places the half-empty mug on the table in front of her before crossing her arms. “But it doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun outside your duties. Remember the good days?”
She could mean anything, considering she’s brought back a lot of memories in your mind. The fruits of her group’s hundreds of successes and celebrations weren’t without having thousands more efforts and sacrifices, whether it’s in the spotlight or behind the scenes. Most, if not all, of your days with her, with them, have been some of your best.
“Mmm-hmm, I still get a lot of that from time to time. Doesn’t need to be outside them,” you admit with a suave cadence, making her chuckle a second time. Despite embracing the slow and comforting tension warming in your bodies, the whistles of the morning breeze from outside flowing between you, the same time another memory arises from Jinsol. Her eyes widen in dismay while you walk to the glass balcony doors to close it.
“I…” she lets out a deep sigh, before confessing what she expects you to be disappointed at. “I’m really sorry we didn’t get to go to the beach last night, Kwangsun-ah... We even agreed to do it since last week, but Jiwoo-yah had way more drinks than we expect—”
You walk back to her. “Aniya, aniya!” you shake your hands. You expected she’d bring it up, but what transpired last night made it cross your mind. “Gwenchanayo. No need to feel bad for anything. I mean, this is your last tour.” You imagine the members getting wild and wasted, an entertaining series of memories that used to give you nightmares. Now, it just makes you snicker. It’s always been an important moment of bonding for them. You want to remind her of that. “Stuff like that should be the least of our worries. I mean… In the longest time, you get to spend time with the members for most of the month and have your good old girls’ night, so there’s nothing wrong with that.”
She wants to say no and apologize further, but bringing up her members only reminds you of a bigger elephant in the room. You still made a good point, allowing her to smile for a moment before it sinks. “Yeah, I guess so… But, speaking of which… Our contract, I’m sure you’ve heard from the others, right?” She looks down on the floor for a second, rubbing her wrist with her other hand, before facing you. “Our… Decision?”
You nod, sensing her uncertainty and a sprinkle of unease. “I have, Jinsol-ssi.” Knowing the gravity of their situation, consoling and tending to her has always been your priority. “But that shouldn’t change things between you and the girls, right?”
“Of course, not,” she tells you with a burst of warm-hearted confidence, allowing herself to feel the exuberance of yesterday. “We’ve been a family for a long time. Even after our group split up into ‘units’, or whatever everyone calls them, we did our best to keep in touch.”
“You definitely are, and I’m just glad all of you have made up your minds about this…” You hold onto her left hand. “Even if it’s a tough decision to make for you.”
“We have…” She raises her left hand, flashing the golden ring on her finger to you. “You know, I couldn’t be more grateful that we have a manager this caring and thoughtful…”
“I’m just a pretty lucky guy,” you admit, your response stemming from the realization that, while you may necessarily no longer be her manager in a year, you still get to be someone who will be with her regardless of whatever endeavor she will be venturing.
She intertwines her fingers with yours, resting your hand on her chest. “Don’t you dare undersell yourself…” You’re pulled inches closer to her as she tilts her head to the side. “You’re not my fiancé for nothing, Choi Kwangsun.”
You can’t help but giggle at Jinsol’s proud retort. It’s been a year and a month since you proposed to her back in Seoul, but it’s always given both of you butterflies whenever you reminisce about that mundane yet special night. Before you can make your next move of comfort, she raises your hand and lets you rest your palm on her left cheek, allowing her to lean in and relax her eyes at the warmth of your touch amidst this gusty winter dawn.
“By the way, it’s still early and you’re not being your usual self…” She slowly raises an eyebrow with a mix of concern and suspicion. “Why’s that?”
“My usual self?” You tilt your head, your gullible mind still trying to process her phrase.
“You know what,” she sulks. “It’s not like everyone else is here, you’re still being formal with me. And I mean, almost half of the agency already knows about our engagement!”
“Ooooooooh, right… I should’ve known… Mianhaeyo,” you chuckle to lighten her up, making you fold and wrap her arms around your waist to cement your reassurance.”
She rests on your chest. “It’s not because the girls were around too last night, is it?”
“What?” You do not want things to escalate. At this point, there’s no use in talking like a manager to your own fiancée. You have to get rid of this habit before this talk takes both of you into a far more unpleasant kind of tension. You gotta act like her future husband.
“Is it because some of y’all had history too?” she questions you further. There’s not a hint of annoyance or suspicion from her tone now, only some concern about you, but also a sense of insecurity, something she rarely shows to anyone unless she’s bothered. “Heeki and Hyunjin-ie are the same age as you, plus Chaewon-ie, so you felt a little closer—”
“Aniya, noona,” you answer bluntly, killing the gust of chaos starting to befuddle her mind. “I know that we've had lots of fun and wilder days with other people, but I don’t know… I never cared about that.” You give her forehead a long kiss, exhaling a smile. “Looking back, I think a part of me has always been looking forward to seeing you the most, Jeong Jinsol-noona…” You kiss her left cheek. “More than anyone else.” You move to her right. “I’ve moved past that kind of life, ‘cause I wanna share mine with you.”
Her eyes glow and her cheeks warm up. You witness her blushing, prompting you to stroke her hair out of affection. She hears her own heart racing. While you process her initial reaction, a wider smile emerges on her lips. “You finally called me that…” She giggles, realizing that she’s able to break through your more timid, reserved, and sometimes stern and disciplined, “manager’s side.” For someone who often acts more than they speak, Jinsol has helped make you talk and open beyond speaking out of obligation, once from an idol to a manager, and now between lovers.
“Aaaaaahhh…” You finally figure it out, making you smack your face with one hand out of disappointment. Still, you don’t regret saying those words to her. It simply felt right. “Mianhaeyo, noona…” You place both your palms on each of her cheeks. “Jinjja…”
She rests on your forehead. “It’s just, I thought you weren’t comfortable with that word.”
“I’ve always felt comfortable with it,” you clarify. “It’s just, being a manager of one of the busiest and most beloved girl groups in Korea. It’s really kept me in a state where I often wish I could escape more often... I couldn’t juggle how I spoke to people or how I should treat them outside work… Things became a little blurry, before I had to adjust myself.”
“I get it…” She gives you a soft and long squeeze. “I don’t blame you for that, babe.”
“I don’t blame you either…” For you, Jinsol deserves everything a queen has, and a lot more. “I’m just happy we get to spend more time after work than usual.”
She finally pulls you in an embrace, lending each other warmth in this humid winter. You can’t be more over the moon for how far she has come, that you’ve been there to accompany and support her.
“Nado,” she mumbles. “But, that doesn’t have to stay the same way, does it? How you juggle the way you talk.” she asks, suggesting like their contract coming to a close isn’t all bad. Their disbandment may be bad for business or fandoms, yet it brings a fruitful promise for both of you.
You hope to lighten the mood up with a tease. “Well… I feel like it whenever you deserve it, maybe I’ll just call you noona in front of everyone. Even with the other managers.”
“Is that so?” she giggles. She leans closer to your ear, wanting you to virtually explore the possibilities with her. “When does it feel like I deserve to be called noona, babe?”
“All the time, actually,” you chortle your confession, before getting yourself back in your deeper voice. “But I think it makes things a little more special when I call you whenever you’d least expect.”
“Well, I just realized… This’ll probably be the last year I get to call you Manager-nim… What if I keep calling you that after all this?”
Your soft yet hoarse whisper to her left ear sends a wave of shiver that spreads a chilling sensation to Jinsol’s spine. Giving into the magnets radiating on your lips, you kiss your beloved fiancee with a sense of hunger that nothing else, except this woman can satiate. Falling into your own lust for her, your tongue enters her mouth, relishing in the traces of fruits, grilled pork, and beer from last night, mixed with the tea you gave her earlier.
“You getting hungry, noona?” you joke around with her, testing her desire. “We have breakfast downstairs in about thirty minutes or less… You sure you don’t wanna wait—”
With her soft palms, the woman gently pushes you until you land on the nearest chair to the left of the sofa. “It doesn’t hurt to have a little appetizer here first.” She takes off your underwear and shorts, tossing both of them away only three feet away from the sofa. “And a better one.” Getting down to her knees, she spreads your legs between her. Her eyes switch back and forth between your eyes and your cock, mesmerized by how hard and sweaty it already is from the palm of her hands. Without hesitation, Jinsol tilts her head and lunges at your rod like a ravenous and starved creature. Your balls receive a slow yet tender squeeze from her palm. You might have underestimated her quite a bit once she opens her mouth and takes your cock in without prolonging her usual teases.
Keeping you laid back on the furniture, you extend your arms on the backrest, gripping your nails on the leather, with Jinsol devouring you. As a minute passes, she adds a new trick, using her palms and tongue more to keep you lubricated and the back of your skull leaned on the backrest. Her gaze at your shaft remains as if it’s a sculpture she’s an artist trying to perfect and savor at the same time. You can only groan and giggle to the levels of stimulation rising from your member. She’s such a perfect goddess, your mind spurts, contrasting your dirtier lips, mumbling. “Fuck, you’re fucking… Flawless… Fffffmmmh!” Your fiancée’s mouth has made you fouler than you usually speak, and it’s giving her the fuel she needs to giving sucking on you for longer than she usually can.
Within over six minutes of your hog being sucked on by Jinsol has brought you to a heavenly plane, much like their concerts, especially whenever she gives you several winks and gazes of longing from the stage whenever you least expect it. It’s the same with the few winks she’s been giving you now on the floor.
After doing your best to hold it in, your trembling cock fires the first barrage of semen straight at Jinsol’s face. Splattered across her lower face and upper chest. Slowing down your breathing, you lean in and rest on her chest, which she welcomes with open arms, somewhat cradling you with soft hums and coos, now that you’re both seated. “You… You did perfect…ly. Thank you,” you muttered weakly. “So much…”
“Anything for my manager-nim…” Motivated by her phenomenal blowjob, you cup Jinsol’s chin and kiss her with a surge of carnal aggression. Jinsol was almost taken aback, but her surprise incites another sense of arousal with how forward you acted. While your lips lock and twist, your fingers trail her curves, down to her scrumptious thighs, which you give a brief squeeze, and make their stop on her cooch, feeling a wet spot through the veils of her jogger shorts. “It’s sooo… Nice,” she howls into your kiss.
At the same time she starts mumbling praises, you become determined to make it nicer for her. You wrap your left arm around her shoulder, leaving your fingers to begin their work on lubricating her with a smooth rub. In moments like these are when you realize how much you love your beloved’s lips, and her tongue even, as much as the rest of her body, unable to completely part them, relying on your sense of touch to slide your hand under the hem of her shirt and inserting two of your fingers through her tight entrance, before adding a third. Meanwhile, your thumb stays outside to keep her clit entertained.
Frenching Jinsol and fingering her on this sofa and delicately holding her like she’s a string instrument weirdly feels like a romantic moment, but any signs of your rational thoughts are currently silent under the dominance of your primal instincts. With each quick rub on her clit down to her labia before moving back inside her pussy, each note you make with her vulva allows her to keep howling and crying a seraphic melody that is on par with her live performances. You’re feeling not just lucky everyday, but you’re also grateful you get to do something that’s exclusive for her.
It takes five whole minutes of going back and forth between her most sensitive spots, and out of her pussy, until you feel her hand hold onto your wrist, locking it in place with fingering her entrance as fast and as long as you can. At the thirtieth second, the woman lets out her final moan of this session, gushing out her juices. A broken dam, smearing most of your hand with her essence. Your tongue scrapes off the juice on your thumb, taking delight in the sweet taste and slippery texture of her nectar, like you often would whenever one of you is lustful enough to take the other to somewhere isolated.
Still laying on her back after your breathtaking service, you take the chance to kiss her sharp and sweet jawline, before moving down to her neck and collarbone, licking out her sweat mixed with your splattered cum. With your fingers also soaked in her juices, Jinsol pulls your hand to her mouth and starts slobbering on it without a word. You thought of finishing it off yourself, but this sight is much better. She pulls you to your fingers, making you lick off her remaining juices right in front of her, similar to when you’re sharing an ice cream. Hearing her giggles throughout your lickings provokes you to clash against her mouth in between your fingers. You don’t stop until your hand has been cleaned with both your saliva.
And yet, just as you thought things were over, Jinsol follows her carnal instinct and takes your lips with more aggression. You make out for five seconds before your lips part. “Still hungry, noona?” you ask her if this was enough to feed her early cravings.
“Hungrier than ever,” she exhales, triggering a guffaw from you. Just as you expected.
Going back to her lips, you ought to take things to the next step after this point, having given each other the foreplay to keep yourselves going while the sun is still asleep.
Deep down, you’re itching to give her the same treatment, laying her on the sofa and eating her up like nyotaimori. However, the ticking clock on the wall catches you off guard for a second. “I believe everyone will be awake pretty soon.”
“Shit... Majayo.” She bites her lower lip, dismayed by this fact. “Time really flew by fast.” You shouldn’t have brought it up, but your manager's sense made you aware.
“Yeah… But I’ll try to make this worth our time,” you whisper back, bringing her back into the rhythm of your tension by nibbling on her collarbone. You yourself can’t stop yourself from tasting her, thirsting to taste her even longer. “If you want to, noona…”
Challenged by the running clock, neither of you does not bother to waste any second. You both pull yourselves into each other's lips while your libidos burn faster, allowing yourselves to undress each other within a minute. Jinsol takes off your shirt and tosses it right into the sofa, leaving you naked for her to drool over while you get through the many temptations of kissing her lips by stripping down her oversized concert shirt on the floor until she’s left with her bra. While locked with her lips, your fingers return to her still dripping pussy. Giving it another smooth rub, she lets out a hoarse moan, before mumbling, “Fuck, Kwangsun-ie…” With her eyes shut, she can only imagine and recall your length and girth inside her walls. “I really can’t wait… anymore.”
Neither can you. “I hear you,” you mumble with a grin. You give her another kiss before helping her unclasp her bra, taking fifteen seconds to savor her skin. Holding onto her legs, you flex your core and biceps, and, in a burst of vigor, exert enough strength to lift Jinsol off the floor. Feeling your next act fulfilling her plea, she quickly wraps them around your hips. At the same moment, your cock slides into her cunt as you pull her, closing the space between you. Every step you take leads closer to her room, which catches her attention.
“Not inside, babe,” she makes sure you catch her suggestion after lightly tapping your shoulder. “The room, I mean… We don’t have to head inside.” She giggles right after hearing herself. She didn’t have to clarify what she meant, yet her craving made her.
“Hmm?” You stop your tracks. “What’s wrong with it, noona?” Your brain goes back to manager mode. “Does something still need to be cleaned or..?”
“Aniya… It just reeks of liquor in there,” she lets out a slight pout, clenching her teeth and closing her eyes from the shivers you brought her, simply from hearing that term.
“I really don’t care about that.” You found her reasoning amusing and adorable. “But I’m guessing you have a better suggestion in mind?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she nods slowly. Her fingers trail on your arms, wanting to get a better feel of your muscles in action. “We can just do it here, Manager-nim…”
“Here?” Outside your bedroom, you take a quick look around your hotel room. There is not much special to see, except for a legless blue sofa, two different tables and a counter. But none of these spots are anything new to the both of you, so any of it will do, as Jinsol lets you make the first call at daybreak. For this beautiful and exceptional woman, you ought to make this special somehow.
“I mean, why not?” She leans closer to your ear, making you stop your quick inspection. “It’s not like we don’t spend most of our time back home in bed, right?”
“Touché,” you chuckle, right before a fresher idea seeps into your lust-filled brain makes you grin and tell her, “Hang on tight, Miss JinSoul.”
The woman giggles at your retort, letting out an enticing moan as you give one more thrust inside her walls, your tip rubbing onto her cervix a second time. This time, you raise her until her head levels with yours. Interlocking each of your arms under her legs and your palms under her ass cheeks for better comfort, you begin to pounder her at a faster pace. The pleasure you felt from her mouth now doubles with every thrust, such an elevating sensation is now connecting to hers with how deep your shaft rams in and out of her. Your speed forces Jinsol to wrap her arms around your neck, her second seat belt for this ride you’re taking her to.
“You really know—” she gasps out next to your left ear, keeping her eyes open through the surges of stimulation building up down her most sensitive zones, spreading across her breasts and muscles, it causes her to dig her sharp jaw down your shoulder. Oddly enough, it adds a pleasurable sensation to you in a similar way to a shoulder massage, almost slowing your pounding. “Just where… to fuck…iiing—touch me, Manager-nim. Ngaaaaauuuugggh!”
“Of course, babe,” you huff with a chortle, slowly giving more power to your thrusts while you pound her on the wall. “Anything… for my… perfect—fuckiiiiiing—idol…”
You savor each minute, traveling from corner to corner of the room without dropping her. When you almost lose balance, you take her to the counter so she can sit down and, seeing your nonstop effort, lifts her breast for you to suck on. Your thrusts take intervals of hastening and slowing down your pace, ensuring that you can witness her arching her back, sticking her tongue out, and rolling her eyes to the back of her head. “Yeeeeeeeees, babe!” she gasps, invigorated by how hard you suckle her tits while sniffing on her scent, from sweat to her candy perfume. “I’mauugggh… I’m really deli…cious… Am… I not?”
“You’re the tas--tiest!” you grunt to her ear. Of course, this little room tour requires you more strength and endurance to keep yourselves in this mobile position, yet it’s always been worth the challenge. The counterbalance between giving and receiving pleasure from each other only draws out your passionate morning for much longer than you planned. Once a minute passes, you lift and take her from wall to wall, even reaching both of your rooms, and still, you don’t finish there. You thrust as hard and as long as you can, while Jinsol leaves her mark on your upper body with her licks and nibbles.
Ten minutes in, your hands have made their mark on her cheeks the longer you squeeze, and yet Jinsol does not make you stop with her ecstatic moans and lust-driven laughter, doing her best to keep her cries down. At this moment, the heat shared between your bodies has reached its boiling point. Each of the fluids flowing through your nethers give you a withstanding pressure which you can barely contain the longer your throbbing cock hardens and pumps inside her walls.
Your legs finally begin to sore and shudder, prompting you to slowly walk yourselves back to the sofa, your step getting slower and heavier than the last. As you reach the sofa, you gently lay Jinsol on the middle of the high-grade leather seat. Tightening her legs around your waist, you give your last thrusts inside her. The “lids” on your tip and her entrance start to spurt and spill its respective essence inside her. The patience on your trembling bodies is wearing thin, and one of you should start giving a heads up. “I’m clo--ck—close,” you choke on your own spit and words while trying to warn her.
“Me--me too,” Jinsol garbles, and in a sense of panic and urgency, you follow your rationale and try to pull out of her cunt, but she only tightens her grip around you, digging her nails on your skin, which gives you one stingy and gratifying sensation.
“Gwen…chana… I brought pills, member?” she mutters weakly, her drained smile washing over you in relief. You almost forget that. Well, for a moment, you actually forgot she often brings them. Note to yourself, you’re gonna have to trust each other more, even in the littlest of things. “Mmgggnnnhh… I need you warm inside-uh me!”
It takes one slow and robust thrust before you let go of the pressure off your manhood, quickly flooding and filling Jinsol’s womb with your seed. Having already come a couple of times earlier, the woman’s final wave of juices clash with yours, dripping out her cunt. Her head thuds into the soft surface, gently tapping your skin as she laughs hysterically. Something that’s odd to some is basically music to you with how much you adore her.
In the afterglow of your sweet and crazy lovemaking, your forehead rests on Jinsol’s. And wanting to keep your weight off her, you try to get up from the couch, only for her to pull you back to her. Thanks to your knees supporting yourself on the couch, she remains comfortable under your embrace. She initiates a kiss one more time, feeling you fire a little more cum inside her. Even from the balcony, the rays of the sun inevitably reach your skin. It’s not as beautiful as the one from the west coast, but the light nevertheless gives you a soothing sensation, and not an irritating one, thanks to the solar control in the glass doors. From the furniture, you both take a quick glance at the sky glowing into bright orange before your heads turn to take a good look at each other, soaked in your sweat and feeling your heartbeats racing on each other’s chest.
Carefully, you pull your cock out of her entrance, dripping a few drops of semen on her thighs and stomach. “That’s one way to start the morning,” you mumble, looking down at her with an uncontrolled grin and your eyes squinted until you’ve caught your breath and regained your thinking. You didn’t notice how the skies have already brightened up.
“It sure is,” Jinsol bursts out in laughter with you, fizzing out the remainder of her libido while clinging onto your arms. Caressing your cheek, her eyes have a glint of playfulness left despite her ragged breath. “We could get used to this… A little more often.”
“I think we can get that arranged,” you chuckle, bringing out a pinch of your manager voice in your tone, which swoons over her. Finding relaxation in the slow exchange of your breaths, you don’t hesitate to fix her disheveled hair. “I love you, Jinsol-noona…”
She accepts your lips for another quicker, albeit just as sweet kiss. Once your lips part, you find each other with grins of endearment. “I love you too, Kwangsun-ie... So much.”
You think of spooning or cuddling with her on the sofa, up until you three thumps struck the door, followed by a familiar light voice. “Unnie! Manager-oppa!” Yerim’s sparkling voice yells from the outside, slightly muffled by the wooden door. “Are you guys still fucking in there or what? ‘Cause I doubt you’re still asleep—”
“Yerim-ah, keep it down! There are other people here, you know?” Haseul’s warning follows in a much softer yet more commanding tone. “Guys, don’t listen to her,” she mumbles to you, more mellow and cordial. “Just take your time to fix yourselves...”
You immediately reach for your shorts hanging on the table next to you, realizing you still have a lot of jobs to do on your last day in the Western hemisphere, at least for a long while.
“C’mon, unnie. We gotta head to Fashion Island later, you know!” the younger woman whines while her trivial argument with Haseul ensues outside.
“I’ll get the door,” you tell Jinsol. After exchanging a hearty chuckle, you get up from the sofa first and help Jinsol sit down to dress and tidy up. Juggling between walking to the door and wearing your shirt, you were able to get there. Jinsol catches up after you toss her shirt at her with precision.
“Fashion Island again?” your fiancée yells behind you, tying her hair up with a black rubber band. You muffle your laughter with your hand. “Didn’t we go there last time?”
“Yeah, but they got new launches, and we don’t wanna miss out, so you two better get your asses at the lounge in ten minutes!”
Jinsol opens the door, ready to face the younger member. “Oh, so you’re a part-time manager now?”
“Yeah!” Yerim maintains her grumpy attitude, feeling as if she’s got the upper hand over you two. “You guys may have been boning here, but I’m sure I even woke up a lot earlier than you and oppa.”
Jinsol shakes her head, unable to hold her laughter alongside Haseul. “I assure you, Yerim-ah… You did not.”
“Whatever…” she lets out a chortle. “So are you guys coming downstairs or not?”
“We still have ten minutes,” Jinsol makes her point, hoping to stay here a little longer.
“Fifteen, actually,” you correct, just having taken a quick peek on your phone. All three are intrigued. “We just got a text from daepyonim… Our flight’s rescheduled to four hours later, so we can stay here a little longer before we can make our last stops.” Such news makes Jinsol take your unoccupied hand as her eyes glow.
“Really?” Haseul’s face brightened all the same at your live update. “Oh, wow.”
“Yeah,” you elaborate, resting your hands on your lap. “I think everyone’s readjusting things ‘cause of the contract expiration... Plus, all of your old members are here too, I think the hotel’s preparing a little farewell breakfast of some sorts…”
“How’d that happen?” Yerim wobbles her head, taken aback by the surprise.
“I only heard that a couple of managers and some staff here are Orbits,” you explain.
“Like they’re Or—” Haseul attempts to clarify, alongside a nod from Yerim.
“Like Orbits, Orbits, yeah…” Fortunately for them, you expect this kind of question more often from your personal social circle. “The first followed the group since, like, your first comeback. Some of them don’t follow as much, but they still listen to your newer stuff.”
“I guess that answers our question last night, unnies,” Yerim cheers up, clapping once.
“What question?” You wonder, now only realizing that you’re the odd one out among them. “I, uhh, don’t mean to pry…”
“It’s fine, oppa,” she assures you. “It's just some hunky dongpo was hitting things off with Chaewon-unnie in the lounge last night… And I think we’re the same age, too, if I'm not mistaken.” She puts her index finger under her chin. “Or is it Yeojin-ie’s? Hmmm…”
“Hunk? Choi Yerim, you know you’re married, right?” Tilting her head to the left, Jinsol reminds the younger woman with a raised eyebrow and a smirk while still being curious.
“Unnie, I love my hubbie.” Yerim crosses her arm, pouting at her playful suspicion. “Just trying to spill the tea… That’s how Jungie-unnie describes him. Heck, Hyeju’s impressed with him, the same Son Hyeju-yah we know, like that’s how fascinating the situation is.”
“Okay, okay, I believe you and appreciate the tea, but you tell us about it later,” Jinsol’s natural type of leadership still awes you with admiration and adoration for her, even if it's exemplified in the most trivial situations. “You know, when all of us are together.”
“Exactly… And that means we’re having a fancy breakfast later, right?” Haseul smoothly brings you all back to the original topic, which you went along well with. “Did I get that right, Kwangsun-ah?”
“Pretty much… But that’s just a heads-up, Haseul-ssi, I mean, noona…” Your sudden correction of wording and clearing of your throat cracks a chortle from Jinsol. “You can tell the others, but pleeeease don’t make it too obvious to the staff once you reach the lounge.”
“Arasseo…” The older woman snickers, exchanging a teasing stare with your fiancée. “That’s really sweet of them, actually… I’ll let everyone know in our dantokbang.”
“We’ll head downstairs in ten minutes,” Jinsol rapidly raises both eyebrows, which only you failed to notice. You look back to her too late; she only meets you with a wide smile.
“Sooooo, that means, we should go…” Haseul nudges Yerim’s shoulder with a light titter. “Thanks for the update, Kwangsun-ah.”
You bow to them, which they reciprocate by instinct. “No problem, Haseul-noona.” Looking back, you also owe her for being one of the first to believe in your love for Jinsol, similar to you with your older siblings and closest friends.
Yerim’s hands sway together in slight embarrassment. “I suppose, y’all can still have fun for now…” She turns to you and bows a second time with a frown. “Mianhaeyo, oppa...”
“It’s fine, Yerim-ah…” With a pursed smile, you give her shoulder a couple of light taps. “You girls should probably just chill for a while. You all had the busiest month in a long while. You deserve a long rest… Longer than what you’re getting, even.”
“Gomawoyo... And we will,” Haseul also speaks for herself and Yerim, pulling her closer like a parent to her shy child. The younger member beams at your reassurance. Being a manager means you’ll have to look after all of these idols. Thankfully, they also end up getting a good friend to confide in from time to time. “We’ll head back to our rooms.”
“Take care, unnie, Yerim-ie,” Jinsol huddles them into a hug. “I’ll see you girls later.” You wave them farewell before closing the door while hearing some of their banter.
“You realize your husband might be waiting for you in your room by now,” Haseul murmurs to Yerim while resting her hands on her shoulders from behind; they both rush outside the hall of the floor to the elevator.
“Aniya, aniya, unnie… I’m sure his snores are still filling up the room,” the younger woman tries to tell her otherwise. “I guess I still have little time to surprise him.”
Back inside your room, you face Jinsol with a smile mirroring hers. “So, noona, do you wanna shower first?” you ask your beloved. “I’ll clean up our little mess here for a bit.”
She pulls you closer, wrapping your waist with her long arms. “We can just do that later and get in together… I may not be able to stay close to you… Not until the flight.”
Her pouting expression has always made your heart melt. “Well, I’m pretty sure we can stay close the whole trip. Physically,” Your technical answer brings a swift giggle to her. “But for your offer… How can I say no to that?”
You can tell that something’s been lingering on her mind since she chatted with them. It’s a little mysterious, mischievous even. “Okay, but, um, you know, I was thinking…”
“Yeah?” you tilt her head to the right, encouraging her to confess her alluring thoughts.
“I wouldn’t mind if you start using… Less honorifics with me every now and then.”
Your eyes light up. You even feel a little throb down on your flaccid member. “Jinjja?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she hums, biting her lower lip with her sharp, sultry gaze locked on you.
“That’s—Wait…” Feeling how it sounds too good to be true, your hunches warn you of a possible reason for her tempting suggestion. Your domineering allure becomes invaded by some concern for her. “It’s not about what I called Haseul-noona earlier, is it?”
“Not…” Her eyes avoided yours for a second, wandering from left to right to figure out how to phrase it. Nevertheless, she doesn’t wanna lie to herself, nor to you. “—Entirely.”
“Come on, noona…” You pepper kisses into her cheeks, going down to her right hand. “That doesn’t make you jealous, does it? I mean, I’ve also called you noona before, as much as I call Haseul or Jungeun… Even Vivi, Sooyoung, and Jiwoo insisted on it, and I’ve rarely met them.”
“I know, I know. But I’m not bothered by that,” she snickers from embarrassment. “We know you had time with some of them, and even before that, you were already close… I also met your sisters…” She rubs her nape. “It's more on myself. Just wondering about the idea that maybe we can do a little bit of switching things up next time, you know?”
Sensing the sincerity in her look and words, you shake your head with a chuckle of both disbelief and fascination. There’s nothing for you to worry about. Not in this chapter of your lives. “Huh. Well, I guess…” You inch closer, resting the tip of your nose with her. “There’s still a lot I can look forward to before the wedding, Jinsol-ah…”
“Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for, Kwangsun-ie,” she whispers deep in your ear.
Her hot breath striking your ear spirals into your spine. In the seconds that follow, your cock naturally hardens as a response to her, shortly before you feel her fingers wrapping around your crotch. “Heh… I, uh, I tend to love most surprises, so I’m think I can han—”
Feeling an enticing sense of heat from your anticipation, Jinsol giggles and pounces on your lips, slowly tiptoeing and wrapping her arms around you. Your hands travel down her leg, giving her the signal to jump and wrap them around your hips as you catch her bottom. Having regained your strength, you carry your beloved and, with your lips still dancing, walk yourselves to the bathroom, cherishing half of the additional ten minutes given to you, before going about your day.
= = =
I am not a longtime fan/stan of LOONA, but I really admire their talent and music in general, especially the post-BBC units. I missed a lot of great stuff when they first came out, even though I was familiar with some memes related to them, but I'm happy they've made quite left a mark on kpop, and most of them are still active. with that, I don't have a bias, considering they're simply all stunners, but JinSoul just happens to catch my eye the most. I think mintwithchoco's loonathesmut series might've been an influence on why I wrote this fic this way, without the stepsibling aspect, of course. plus, noona JinSoul fics are rare outside that series (maybe I'm wrong), so like, I couldn't help it lmao.
alongside JinSoul, I also considered writing Choerry before this, but maybe I'll just save it for another time. there's a tease here, after all. I thought if I could've made this a little longer, but I like how this turns out. not all fics have to be a full-on series. already got a lot of that on my plate lol. they can have continuations in the future if I'm tempted.
and one more thing: a shorter fic will be out in a few days. but as usual, thank you for the read and I hope y'all are having a wonderful day! take care and till next time! ₍₍⚞(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)⚟⁾⁾
Hello. I am the Choerry person. I fear it is my time to suggest a potential! postI would be excited to see your take on:)
Hi! Sorry but I think you're meant to ask someone else about this one (lol), because I don't recall or can't find anything about Choerry in my past asks, but I do remember being asked about whether I'm gonna write about LOONA/ARTMS, and for that...
I'm just gonna take the chance to say that I'll be releasing a new one-shot featuring a member of that group. It may or may not be out as you're reading this, but still, thanks for the ask and stay tuned!
Jeemin! Yay izna! Thank you for writing for them, I really enjoyed the story!
this ask has been sitting for almost two months now, but I just wanna say thank you as well for enjoying the Jeemin fic! it was short, but that concept's been on my mind for a while. izna's a really good group imo, but having a center/visual who remains underappreciated much like the rest of the group itself is some of their agency's greatest crimes, much like they have with kep1er. but yeah, lol, glad they're at least still doing okay(?), and I wish nothing but the best for them.
anyhoo, thanks for the ask. hope everyone's having a good day!
An account named planetaryupscaled posted a Mina smut named "Inherited desire" but it is exactly like the 2010 history "blackmail baby" on literotica. They thought no one was going to notice???
https://www.literotica.com/s/blackmail-baby
Hi anon!
I believe writers on this platform know about their plagiarism. They've also somewhat admitted it if their older disclaimers are anything to come by.
Now I'm no cop, but if you wish to report them for plagiarism or for anything of the sort, feel free to do so.
a/n: it's been a week late, but happy anniversary to this blog lol. I had this one-shot in the draft for many months, but I have only gotten to finish it recently. more yapping at the end, but like I often say many times before, I'm just glad it's done and I hope you like it.
“Congratulations on this new launch, Miss Lee.” You overhear a suited man in his fifties speaking to a young woman in a dark red dress. “This is quite the ambitious milestone.”
“Kamsahamnida, Mister Song,” the woman gestures a soft bow as her smile is widening. “The team has planned and worked a lot for this project for months. I’m glad it paid off.”
“I’m sure your parents are proud of this achievement,” the man continues. “Having made such a great investment for you, making a kind of bold, and risque decision.”
You only heard fragments of their conversation from a distance of the ball room. And yet, you could tell from her look just hearing that older man’s backhanded compliment. Her forced smile, deep inhalation, and forcibly straightened posture in front of him. As you can only observe, she goes on to say something to the board member that cuts their conversation short, albeit maintaining both their formal facades. The two parted ways a moment after, making you watch his grin melting away, much like his fragile ego. She’s no stranger to clapping back at insults while still keeping it classy, no matter who they might be. But, still, you felt like you could have done something to defend her honor.
Too bad that’s not your job, not tonight, at least. Your eyes meet hers for a second. Her smile’s now showing her sly and somewhat proud satisfaction, before she approaches her team with a wider genuine beam. Even as a leader, she has treated them like any other friend she has. That’s one absolute strength you can say about her personality.
You didn’t know how else to live your life, so you decided to spend your twenties being tasked with protecting others’ lives for a living, especially ones who had the money for it. It just happened to be this one family and their closest associates. You maintained your eyes around your surroundings for their own safety and protection. That was how things felt like for you in the last two to three years. Boredom or caution found on two sides of the same coin in your lines of duty.
Still, having a personal life was something you couldn’t afford, not all the time anyways. Plus, you get paid a lot, at least more than most of your siblings and relatives. You remembered how they used to boast about your astonishing payload, and yet, hearing them whine or grumble about their simpler yet content livelihoods made you think about some grievances you’ve withheld about your employers here and there.
Lee Chaeyoung has proven to be quite a handful. You’ve kept your distance, but you still have to be close enough. It’s ironic, and tiresome, and repetitive. But a job’s a job. Being a personal bodyguard who’s loyal to two entities: the Lees and the Nopeun Corporation, perhaps more on the former in recent times.
She’s… Something. Someone that made you feel at ease. Not bored, but threatened. You don’t know if you should keep entertaining these kinds of one-on-one meetings. They’re not even meetings, in the traditional sense. Not what you were used to before, anyways.
This job was far from what everyone else sees in dramas or manhwas. Mostly alert and anticipation, rarely the thrill and sensation one would see happen in a climactic scene.
Ever since she rose up into the position of the company’s Brand Manager last year, she made you feel like you were also her exclusive personal bodyguard—twenty-four seven. Sure, you’ve tackled a few dozen creeps or sasaengs during her public conferences like she was an idol people are obsessed with. But then again, models also need protection. She made herself more famous the more she got involved in fashion. Your face would make it into some headlines because of those instances, but you weren’t special. Your fellow officers also showed up, perhaps more than you have on-screen. Your job’s to protect certain faces, not show off your own.
Tonight, you receive a text as soon as the ceremony has reached its closing remarks.
[Ms. Lee Chaeyoung]: Head to my room once you’re done.
A.S.A.P.
But the things, you get to see her more often. Much like you approached her parents and supervisors, you rarely questioned her intentions. As far as you know, they’ve never had criminal records or devastating controversies for you or your firm to worry about. Has a respected and even revered reputation in the last decade or so. You weren’t just lucky to be employed by them, you’re also lucky tagging along with them often. With her, even.
You couldn’t reply while you’re reporting to your team leader right after the closing, considering how none of these particular texts has ever been part of your protocols.
{Ne, Miss Lee. Algesseumnida. I’ll be there in five minutes.}
You’re lucky that you were second-in-command at this point in your job, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to do whatever you’re often doing after these events. Being in a hotel with thousands of guests isn’t new to you. Your service to Chaeyoung hasn’t either.
You have known the woman, or Miss Lee as you often called her, more than most of your closest friends in the last four years, even though she was not just your main employers’ precious daughter, but she had also basically become your employer at times. When and what her schedules are, wherever she heads. Even what she ate. It was quite a buzz when you first heard that she has a generation of food allergies, something you’ve been taught and trained to look out for. For someone with a library of expertise on fashion, she’s got a limited palate. You didn’t judge her, not even in your most gossipy thoughts, you just found it another fascinating trait, aside from it making you feel more pressured once.
Tonight was the gala for their company’s latest release. A brand new series of clothing was released. Collaborations with other organizations like ModHaus and HYPE were in talks too, but you hear executives didn’t want any other news to overshadow their latest milestone. On flashy and festive nights like this, you could mostly talk to fellow officers through comms, hand gestures, or murmurs between short distances, but once things had wrapped, it’s just you and her tonight. You didn’t know whether to feel irritated because you feel like you’re just getting an extra shift or because of something else.
“Didn’t expect a bodyguard of ours to be eavesdropping on a talk between executives,” she assumes while sitting on the bed. Her room is dimly lit, oddly emitting a tense yet also soothing atmosphere. One can place some roses on the bed and it would’ve made things romantic, but this is not that kind of meeting. It never has been.
Even without the comms on your ears, you keep your posture straight, still maintaining the same mindset you have on duty. “In my defense, ma’am, I thought Mister Song was trying to sound intimidating to you earlier… I believe he was worth keeping an eye on.”
She tilted her head to the left, showing a smug smile she wouldn’t even show to anyone else.“I got it under control,” the woman flaunts with her nonchalant hand gestures, but her facade’s enough to cover the butterflies on her stomach and her heart racing faster.
“I’m just looking out for potential threats,” you try to justify your wholehearted worry.
Your concern towards her makes her more curious. “Hmmm… Well, let’s not talk about that… I’ve had enough of my parents’ goons. I’ve chatted with enough of them tonight.”
Being in the same room with only her, again, in the last six months slowly warms, nay heats up the room with her mere presence. A part of you is now looking for a way out. You may have known each other, but friends is not a word you’d describe about each other. It simply didn’t suit it. “Understood… So, do you need anything else, ma’am?”
She scoffs. “Are we still playing the same old game, Agent Kang?” Of course, she senses how you’re trying to rush things, but she’s not letting that happen. Not without trying to get a certain reaction out of you.
“Well, you know… I thought you’d be interested in someone else by now…” You cannot help but break your professional lingo and willingly fall into her verbal trap. “Going out with another set of faces, instead of toying around with the same man on your payroll.”
She scoffs again, her eyebrows raising in amusement at your grumble. “Toying around?”
She’s not one to be ashamed of her dating and sex life. Who or how many people she has slept with was never your business, until you unfortunately entered that list. That makes her scandalous to some of her older and pearl-clutching peers, but in a way, that makes you respect her. In general, when her mind is set on something, she does not give a fuck about anyone else. “You might be enjoying these games, but I’m still just another one of your bodyguards, Miss Lee…” But sometimes her bewitching delivery can be somewhat patronizing, and with your response, she just got what she was expecting.
“And what do bodyguards do?” purrs the woman. She takes one step closer to you. You don’t know whether to feel belittled, like you would in front of her and her parents. This has always been a job for you. “Protect and serve… Right?” You don’t know if you wanna feel more submissive either, similar to moments like this one, you think you would have only disappointed no one else but yourself for going through this when you could’ve just said no, like you did a year ago.
“Mostly just the first part. I’m not a cop,” you mumble with your hoarse, and slowly quivering tone. How this woman can just constantly send shivers through your own spine far more than your own many superiors and commanders had in half a decade often bewilders you. Her face inches closer, her lips now just a foot away from yours. Her right hand makes its way into your inner shirt’s buttons, her left on your jacket, ready to pull it on an impulse.
The woman can feel your breath slowly heaving. She knows what you’re gonna think, like you have before. This can be seen as an abuse of power. She’s read your mind, not like she hasn’t done that before. God, you remember how you were so lonely outside of work. Even when you were seeing someone else, that very cold and quiet sensation has always been your companion when you’re in the field. But whenever you’re around her, and only her, that same cold transforms into something more excitable. More thrilling.
“It doesn’t change my argument… But, then again, you can just say no,” she teases you further, the breath of her chuckle sending shivers down your spine, her fingers having unbuttoned most of your shirt, leaving only one left. “It’s not like, it’s the first time we did it.” You know what you’re missing out when you say no to this woman, every other time you’ve done so gave you a sense of withdrawal of some sorts. “The times I repaid you.” Her hand now rests on your chest while you remain frozen in place like a stone. Another part of you doesn’t back out.
“You didn’t have to repay me for anything, Chaeyoung-ssi…” That’s what your brain always wished to tell this woman. “You never had to... It’s always been my job—” Your cadence, however, only makes her feel more patronized, as if she needed to feel it again. To be reminded that she'll always be her parents’ daughter and nothing more than that.
“I know... But you wanted it. Didn’t you?” Her question only struck a nerve back at you, a bullet striking through your filters of professionalism.
“Come on, just look me in the eye and tell me if you no longer want this. Just one word, Yoojoon-ah, then you can leave—”
Having made up your mind in the heat of this moment, you follow your body and walk her forward, pinning her to the wall as your lips clash. You can feel her smile before her arms wrap around your neck with her swaying body, welcoming your hunger to deepen the kiss while your hands latch onto her curves, sliding from her chest down to her hips like a screener, only in this situation, any sense of discomfort has been thrown into the air. Her tongue invades your mouth first, but your larger tongue twirls hers like they’re dancing. She only lets out yelps and moans throughout the makeout session while she finally claws through your last button and strips your upper clothes down the floor.
Chaeyoung breaks your kiss. “Just what I expected. You missed fucking me.” You seize the chance to kiss her elsewhere while she keeps chortling and taunting you. You start familiarizing her body again, starting on her neck, down her collarbone and latch onto her breasts. “Fucking my body with your big, thick, hard cock.” She cups your face with both hands and goes back straight to your mouth. She knows she’s fine as hell, and you keep on reminding yourself how lucky you are and how fucking insane this situation is.
What she said was an understatement. From a renowned supermodel to a meticulous fashion designer, this woman has brains, brawn, and beauty. How could you not miss her? You’ve never admitted how you miss Chaeyoung every second you’re not around her. Even if this will jeopardize your reputation and years-long profession. This brought you the real thrill, yet this also seems like the kind of break you’ve always been dying to do in your spare time, and once again, you’re doing it with her. Kissing her and more gave you a push. You can taste the bitter and sweet traces of dessert and liquor on her mouth, reminding you how she can handle alcohol far better than most. Including you.
Before you can get on one knee, the woman holds onto your wrist. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she mocks, pulling you down on the bed first, right in the middle. She crawls forward until she reaches your erect member, ecstatic that her hands immediately latch onto your manhood with hunger. “It’s been a while since I’ve had something this good.” Without mercy, she unzips your pants and lets it slide off the bed, straight on the carpet right beneath it.
It’s true you’ve done this whole charade time and time again, but she’s still technically your boss. She has called the shots before. She’ll be giving you some later, right after she takes your cock. You’ve always assumed she has taken in larger ones than yours, but the fact that her eyes light up as your member springs out of your undies makes you realize how miniscule your insecurities matter in the pursuit of attaining pleasure inside closed doors.
She does all her preparation within a minute, lubing you up with her tongue, and wastes no time to open her mouth as wide as she can and takes you inside until your tip reaches her throat. The pleasure firing from your balls up to your spine only makes you clench your fingers and toes in place. Giving your testicles a light squeeze with one hand, she makes sure you lock eyes with her, even just for a moment, before she starts bobbing her head on your member in a smooth up and down motion, sucking you like a popsicle.
“Fuck… Chae… Mmmmmnngggood girl,” you grit your teeth while your fingernails dig through her hair, holding onto through the head of her movement, as if you’re holding onto the lap bar of a rollercoaster as her mouth gradually brings you to greater heights.
Keeping the same rhythm under an accelerated pace in the next eight minutes of your own moans rising alongside the stimulation building up from your balls to the rest of your body, such an inevitable pressure makes you eventually hit your breaking point. Your cock bursts at Chaeyoung’s face without much warning, blasting most of your warm, thick, and sticky seed on her open mouth. As usual, she swallows it down with a smile, followed by a relieving exhalation. You’re not sure if it’s ever possible for someone to be allergic to cum, you’ve only heard of it, but you’re somewhat grateful that she’s not.
She licks off even the leftovers off her tip, constantly making you tingle. “I can’t believe that… After all that… I still want you so fucking bad…” You can hear the bittersweetness in her low but persistent voice, believing that a minutes-long blowjob will cool down her libido, just to realize that it fuels both of you to take things further.
“Same same,” you huff, before spreading your drooling mouth across her neck while her moans keep growing at your smooth movement. Slowly, you begin to undress her fancy clothing with expertise. “You know, I kinda miss your red hair.”
“I bet you do,” she giggles, her warm breath mixing in with her own sweat and perfume. You move down on her collarbone and lick off more of her essence. She closes her eyes, savoring the feeling of being coated by your lips and tongue until you unlock her black bra. You both remember how much a mere change in hair color made you fuck her the whole night until she passed out, combined with her more daring outfits on or off the runway. “Go on. What else?”
“Your skin, your lips. Your thighs, your pussy,” you blurt out every word you can think of like a primitive while caressing her ass cheeks with both hands, encouraging her to take her panties off. “They, uh—you really drive me insane, Chaeyoung-ah.” Now that you’ve completely undressed her, you attack her lips again and let her lie down on the bed with you on top, allowing her to touch your torso from your pecs down to your abs.
“I’m glad it makes you feel that way, oppa,” she chuckles through the kiss, making you get a hint of the slice of that vegan chocolate cake she took a bite of earlier. The dessert tastes decent, but it’s her mouth that’s always irresistible. “Makes me feel I’m wanted.”
You were confused why she kept calling you oppa when you’ve long known about your age gap of two months, with her being the older one. You never brought it up, because, throughout this entire night, your senses have become almost completely submissive to her scents. Her voice has always made you follow her into the many worlds she’s made for yourselves. When she called you oppa, you were her oppa. She’d be your slave when she wanted to, or the other way around. Behind the curtains, she could make herself your slave when she felt like it. Some nights, you were her daddy, even though that took your mind countless times to adjust and be reminded of the fact that her wild kinks had nothing to do with her father or some of her exes much like with you and your exes.
“You still like it, like that, huh? How Yeeun-ie used to call you all those times… Oppa.” Speaking of who, but before you can process, she attacks your lips, groaning in hunger for more. You are lucky you weren’t even thinking about Yeeun except now, but that is only because Chaeyoung brought her up. It’s been almost two years now; she deserves way better, even if you also think the same for Chaeyoung.
She has teased you about your ex before, but looking back, her twisted way or playing or pretending really did turn you on, strangely enough. Her letting you have some illusion of power over her for one night. Unfortunately for you, hearing it didn’t feel as sweet to your ears, no matter how mouthwatering this woman’s lips are.
“Can we not?” you grumble as you part your lips from her for a second, trying your best not to stop the heat and momentum between you.
“Mianhaeyo,” she breathes with a somewhat nervous chuckle, licking and kissing on your neck and massaging your shaft in the hopes of calming you down or distracting you, or both. Either way, it’s working.
“Gwenchanayo,” you murmur, before moving your mouth onto her tits. “Just not in the mood.” Not for old and bitter memories. “I’d rather just let us be equals for one night…” You take a deep breath, and level her eyes. “I just want you, Chaeyoung-ssi, you know?”
The woman’s smile toned down, albeit still assertive and, oddly, touched by your words. “Then, umm, you should try calling me by my stage name.”
“Arasseo…” A chuckle of relief forms from your lungs and leaves your lips, now curving upwards at her affirmation towards your call. “Isa-yah.”
With her smirk reforming, she whispers two simple words right next to your right ear, something that further hardens your already standing cock. “Good boy…”
Keeping yourself together in spite of Chaeyoung’s spine-chilling and cock-throbbing whisper, you intend to get down on your knees and return the favor to her. She only stops you halfway, sensing you wiggle her legs and back away from her on the bed.
“I can’t wait anymore,” she begs, subconsciously keeping you closer with both her arms wrapped around you, letting her emotion take over her carnal desperation for a second.
“You wouldn’t want me to be rough, would you?” you quickly try to warn her of your worry, still remembering how hard you’ve literally gone inside her in the past.
“I thought you’d know what I want by now,” she lightens up at your question. “It doesn’t matter.” Unbeknownst to you, she’s had a less concerned and more thrilling recollection at what you’re trying to remind her.
“Well, I can’t risk it,” your hands encourage her to move and wiggle on to the middle of the bed on her back. “Besides, it’s not fair you’re the only one who gets to eat… Right?”
Unable to clap back at your point, Chaeyoung only lets out a chuckle. “Bon appétit…” She’s always loved this warmer, more gentlemanly side of you. One you’ve developed way before you decided to live in this field of profession mostly thanks to your family.
“Don’t worry, Isa-yah, this won’t be long,” you assure her before digging your moist lips straight to her moist, clean-shaven pussy. Oh, how you’ve missed her taste. You let your tongue let loose inside her slit, while your right thumb and index finger make their way through her clit and labia, reexamining her nethers by instinct. Only Isa’s growing wail and moans keep pushing you to quicken your pace and maintain your rhythm until she starts squirting in your hand and cheeks. Throughout your quick feast, your erection is not only making you impatient, but it makes you groan through her cunt. Such a series of noises reverberating down her body suddenly cuts her gradual build-up of pleasure, accelerating it within seconds while her fingers from both hands anchor on your hair.
Her squirts stop and quickly turn into a barrage of juices, erupting and latching right on your face. Like a badger, your tongue quickly licks off the nectar on your chin and cheek. You lean closer to Isa, signaling her to lick on the unreachable spots across your face like a thirsty cat, before pulling you back into her lips. In the loud tango of your tongues, you share your essence for a minute, leaving a trail of saliva between your lips once you part.
“I don’t wanna keep the princess waiting,” you whisper in her ear. Chaeyoung only digs her upper teeth on her lower lip, grinning with glee. However, before you can latch your lips on hers for the nth time, she rolls her body, now lying on her stomach. “Then don’t,” she shoots back, wiggling her legs and flaunting her for you to awe with. You don’t waste more time and position your cock inches away from her cunt, still dripping in her juices. There’s two holes, three if you count the small gap between her thick thighs, currently in your sight, all of which keep your mouth drooling and your mind recalling the times you fucked each of them. Despite your three seconds of indecisiveness, there’s no doubt that you know you miss her pussy the most. With both palms, you give her ass cheeks a slow tight squeeze, thirsting to hear her purry groan before reverting your focus on her cunt.
You always preferred seeing her face go crazy while you do it, but this position turns you all the same. Your two fingers rub on her moist entrance, before inserting your manhood through it. Keeping your left hand intertwined with her, you thrust your hips forward, as you move inside her warm and tight walls, starting slow and steady with your entry until you finally reach her cervix. At the second her moans tone down, you now thrust faster.
Holding her waist and ramming your throbbing cock in and out of her tightening cunt, she keeps on giving you screams of praise and affection in such a manner that your own rationale only hopes no one else outside this room will hear. Somehow your lustful side wishes for her to howl louder, wanting her moans for everyone else to know that you are giving each other the nights of your lives. That only you, a mere bodyguard, can take this otherworldly, ethereal, and godly (whatever else you can use to describe her superiority) woman to cloud nine, and now, it’s happening all over again, perhaps in higher places you have only dared to explore a few times. You do everything you can to add to your penetration by giving her right plump and jiggling ass cheek a couple of fast smacks, followed by sliding your left palm under her breast, massaging it like a round pillow which prompts the woman to stretch her neck and raise her head, facing the ceiling.
“Fuck, you’re such a goddess, Isa-yah… Chaeyoung-ah, you’re breathtaking!” you roar next to her ear. She chuckles, returning your praises by pulling your head from behind with one hand and giving you a kiss. Neither of your lips completely close, allowing you to hear each other’s moans, revel at your scents, and let your tongues sloppily entangle.
Several more minutes into rocking her body, Chaeyoung places her right hand on your wrist, prompting you to slow down. “Jamkkanman…yo… Yoojoon-ah!” she stammers, closing her eyes through the waves of pleasure that’s kept her paralyzed. “I—aaauuugh, want… to… look… at… you!” Within three seconds, you grunt with a quick nod and pull out of her entrance as she turns around and lies on her back once more. “Ngggh…”
With her arms wrapping around yours, she pulls you back into position, willingly letting herself be impaled by your falling member inside her at the fastest pace. Louder cries of both surprise and stimulation erupt from her mouth. Thank God for thicker hotel walls, because you get to hear her clear and dreamy, high-pitched screams while you fuck her, long enough for her eyes to start rolling to the back of her head. With one more trick up your sleeve, your libido drives you to stretch her left arm, lean closer to her armpit, and stick your tongue out to lick her sweet, sharp, and tangy sweat off her skin with ecstasy. Like her pussy, she adjusts her hold on you by wrapping her legs around your waist and securing herself to this bumpy ride to paradise.
“I’m soooooo close!” Despite her level of stimulation matching yours, she starts to run out of breath with her squirts starting to go off rails, with her grip around your shoulder faltering, and yet, she makes sure to tell you, nay, beg you the words, “I’m fuck…ing safe, Yooooojoon-iiiieee! Don't… you dare… Pull the fuck—auuuuuggghhh!” She comes again.
At this moment, your stamina can no longer catch up with your speed, yet you still keep thrusting inside her walls while sucking on her neck with eyes closed. As your muscles begin to sore from your arms to legs, you realize there’s too much build-up for you to hold inside your cock. It’s time, you give yourself the signal to let go of the pressure. Admittedly, you’ve fired your seed deep inside her more than you’ve fired a gun at anything in the last two years. But this feeling is infinite times superior, hence you can only thank the heavens for growing up a lover a little more than a fighter. With her eyelids half shut, Chaeyoung’s tongue remains stuck out until her final orgasm dwindles down with you. You try to roll down to her side, but with your cock still inside her, the woman instinctively lies on the side as you plummet on the left side of the bed with ease.
As you breathe in front of each other, your conscience is torn on whether to inch farther away from her or stay like this, but she holds her arms tighter around you, finally giving you the answer for yourself in action. Even your cock has yet to pull out of her cunt, but she doesn’t seem to mind this sticky entanglement either way.
You’re never the best with words, but your heart pushes your mind anyways while it’s at its loudest. “You know, uhhh… I know it sounds, ummm, pretty fucking corny, but I am really proud of everything you’ve done, Chaeyoung-ah. I know none of it has been easy, but you’re tough. I’m really happy everything is paying off…” You take a deeper breath, before concluding your confession. “You deserve every good thing, and more.”
Seeing the woman’s eyes widen for a moment along with her smile widening in silence, Chaeyoung doesn’t say anything and leans her lips only an inch away from yours. It’s an invitation you haven’t and can never say no to. You cup her smooth chin and clash your lips together. That is another way of her saying “thank you,” besides making you stay with her until dawn arrives. Your tongues dance once again in the sweetness of your taste, but it’s not enough to fuel your lust. Not for tonight, at least, as your mouths part after a long minute, allowing you to slowly pull your cock out of her at the same time.
“I don’t think it’d be possible for me to get to this point without you… By my side,” she confesses in return, sliding her fingers across your chest, giving you a gentle, motherly, even, stroke that eases down your slight nervousness. “Gomawoyo, Kang Yoojoon-ah.”
“You’re flattering,” you chuckle, but both of you can already feel each other's heart beating a little louder, much faster, there’s no doubt about either of your sincerity.
“By your logic, you’re being dramatic too,” she pouts, lightly pinching your muscles, making you wail for a long second, humbly taking it in before she rubs it right after.
“Okay, okay... I surrender,” you caress her hair. “I wanna thank you as well, princess…”
“Do you really wanna call me that?” she giggles. “Right before leaving the room?"
“Aniya, aniya. I’m not going anywhere till morning,” you reassure her, at the same moment your mischievous side kicks in. “That is, if you want me to leave, I can—”
“You better not,” she interrupts with a menacing yet whiny tone and mumbly delivery, lightly pulling your hand. “‘Cause I’m the only one who can protect you tonight.” After exchanging a lighthearted chuckle, you pepper kisses on her forehead before tightening your embrace with a slow and gentle wrap around yourselves with the blanket, giving Chaeyoung the chance to rest her head on yours. Your breathing relaxes through the soothing mixture of your scents. Your eyelids close and your beats relax, resting in the rhythm of the night winter breeze until you've become one with the silence.
This night feels the most different. You only thanked whatever divine being might have been present in time for you to confess those words, despite your usual constraints and reservations. At this point in your life, you know that you would do anything more than pleasing her body and protecting her heart. Keeping her in your arms, you only have an intuition. However things may play out, you have a feeling: everything’s gonna be okay.
= = =
“Jamkkanman, Jamkkanman…” Your friend from your left, notices something sparkly on your finger while you take a long sip of your hot dubai chocolate latte. “Yoojoon-ah… Where the hell did you get that ring?”
Placing your mug on the table, you can only chuckle in disbelief. Today’s a weekend, and the first time in ten months since you and your closest buds have met up for breakfast at a local restaurant, and considering how you’ve offered to treat them for meals, being the quietest one in the bunch for half an hour only made things more obvious. Within a split second, you try to come up with a reasonable excuse. “This is just a couple’s ring…” Too bad, you’re not as quick-witted as you are outside the line of duty, especially not in front of these two.
Insik mouth gapes wider, slowly inching closer to your ring finger like something precious is calling to him. “Seolma…” From your right, he carries your hand with brighter eyes. “Is this what I think this is?”
Jungbong scans your ring with his phone camera, quickly scanning your ring with the GPT app. “Holy shit, that’s damn expensive, man!” He covers his own mouth, quickly showing the results to Insik and then you. “That can’t be just a normal couple’s ring.”
“Didn’t look up the price, but maybe it is,” you shrug, your carefree tone balancing their mixed bewilderment and excitement. “I don’t know… What’s the big deal?"
“What’s the big deal? Dude, you didn’t tell us you even had a girlfriend!” Jungbong gives you a soft knuckle on your shoulder, making you groan and squint your eyes.
“That's because you guys rarely ask about it!” you raise your hands in the air, treating this moment as if you’re now caught committing some kind of crime, which to be fair, would’ve been the case if it wasn’t for how smooth and hopeful things have turned out. “But yeah, now that you have, I guess that’s something that I'll have to confirm to you.”
“Is this why you’re treating us for breakfast?” With a wide grin on his face, Jungbong goes direct with you. “You’re letting us order a full meal this early!”
“I mean, you guys wanted to meet outside reunions, so I just took the chance to treat y’all,” you answer without a tone of pretentiousness or sounding like a tryhard. “And this?” You look at your ring with a hopeful and longing beam. And just the thought of Chaeyoung begins to make your heartbeat louder to your ear. “I guess things just, uh, turned out this way.”
“Waaaaahh, I couldn’t be happier for you, man!” Insik shakes your shoulder. “But what about the lucky lady? Is she okay with your job? I mean, looking at you. I’m sure she is,” he adds the question with a hint of usual concern, but mostly out of hopeful curiosity.
“Why wouldn't she be?” You would rather let the illusion play for now. Not because your friends are secretly working for scoopers, but you only can’t risk your personal life being yet to be thrown into the jaws of the celebrity spotlight. Before such inevitability comes. You’d trust them as much as your own family. As much as you trust your own beloved.
“You know, ‘cause you rarely get to have free time, even on the weekends,” Jungbong brings back the truth of your colder past, which Insik slowly nods. “Like dude, I hope you’ve thought that through… You couldn’t even have a longer relationship then.”
“I know, I know…” You appreciate their concerns, but they do not affect your optimism. Your renewed sense of hope, free from the chains of your past shortcomings. “But, I’ve thought it through.” You’ve gone through a lot to make this decision. To have listened and followed your heart for once, rather than all orders and protocol. “We both did.”
“Wow, okay, then…” With a surge of excitement, Insik taps your shoulder and raises his hand, his ring reminding you of his long loving relationship with his fiancée. “So, this is really happening then... You’re finally joining us?”
“There’s really no denying it, dude! Your decades-long bachelor era has finally ended,” Jungbong raises a closed fist to present his ring. Knowing what his move means, Insik mirrors his gesture. “Kang Yoojoon, you’re in the fiancé’s club now…”
You’re unable to conceal your laughter as they continue to congratulate you in this sudden reveal. Together, the three of you bump your ring fingers, celebrating your respective loves. There’s no point in hiding this... Well, most of it. “Indeed, I am.”
= = =
just a long-ass yap session here, some kind of reflection and whatnot.
looking back, I'm not as fast and as active as I was since I first wrote my earlier fics and it's mostly because lots of personal stuff happened, combined with my inconsistent self-esteem with writing here, and will keep on happening (adults gotta adulting), so I just could not put out anything within a short time. but, one thing that I am sure of, is I will continue to write because I love doing this. this has mostly been just a hobby, after all. even if that's the case, I'll always be grateful that the stuff I put out gets not only attention from readers who appreciate them, but also some acknowledgment from writers I who really respect and admire. everyone yearns some validation from time to time, too. I'd rather be honest (and maybe dramatic? lol) with that than not.
I also realize that certain respectable writers here, like bunnsfw and banananutsmuthie, had gone on hiatus and recently returned with new banger works, and that somehow gave me a sense of assurance of the state of this blog. this isn't me saying I'm gonna be “on hiatus.” I'm just being a lot more honest (if I wasn't before) that I won't be as active here as much as I wanted to be. regardless of how the quality turns out, I can't stop writing here until I've finished my series. all of them XD.
also, when it comes to the concept of this fic, I know the whole “bodyguard” thing isn't anything new, there's like pretty solid works out there, the one I can quickly recall being satzumosupremacy's Elite Bodyguard series (I'm sure there's others, I just thought this one's memorable). but I thought it'd fun to explore it in one of my fics, and it happened to be with Isa, so that's that.
anyhoo, expect a next fic in a couple of days, as I said last time lmao. it's done, just gonna put it here on tumblr. thank you so much for the read and for bearing with my inconsistent post sched. till next time!
A/N: I managed to finish it in time! This one is dedicated to my lovely @xantithesis. I hope everyone have a good read~ No beta readers, wanted to try relying on my lousy eyes XD.
“Habbang~” You drop onto the edge of the mattress, its springs groaning under you. “Numbers any kinder today?”
“Yah, how many times do I have to tell you not to dry your hair on the bed!” Hayoung pouts, sitting up and crossing her legs. She wedges the crushed pillow that’s still dented with the shape of her head between her thighs like a shield. “It’s gonna get mouldy from all the water dripping everywhere.”
She tilts her phone toward you. The banking app glows blue against your face and she mumbles. “Still nowhere near… but hey. We’ll get there.”
“Mmm.” You squint at the screen, doing the math in your head like always. “Thirty-seven percent. Five years if we stay perfect… maybe four if we get lucky.”
“Ughhh. When will we win the lottery already?” She flops backward with a dramatic thud and immediately winces. “Ow. This thing hates me.”
You stand and stretch your back, wandering over to the progress board stuck to the wall. “There. One more percent.” You twist the knob and the left dial clicks to 37, the right falls to 63. “One measly percent a month. Thrilling.”
“Sixty-three more months…” Hayoung sighs, her limbs spread like a starfish across the mattress as she stares up at the familiar water stain on the ceiling like it's her favourite cheesy burrito.
“Aren’t you gonna shower? We’ll be late.” You turn toward the kitchen — or what looks like one. The dining table functions as a stove, her makeup station, and your unofficial “dreaming zone” (aka where you balance your phone to watch home tour videos when you can’t afford the real thing). “Get up~ I’ll make us coffee and breakfast while you freshen up.”
“Ugh.” Seeing you put the water to boil, Hayoung groans as she hauls herself off the bed, shuffling into the shower. The shower door shuts with a click, and soon the muffled sound of running water soothes into your ear.
“Damn, it's the last two packs.” You throw the empty box into the trash and tear the packs open, pouring them into your mugs. “Babe! We gotta get some more coffee tonight, we're out.” You holler as you add two extra teaspoons of sugar into Hayoung's mug — she likes it a tad sweeter.
“Didn't we just stock up?” Hayoung shouts back. “They should hire us as their brand endorsers or something at the rate we're drinking.”
You pop bread slices onto the warmed pan, swirling them around until they're burnt to a nice char with a nutty toasted aroma. Removing the toasted bread slices to let them cool, you toss in last yesterday’s leftover spam and soon, the room fills with the smell of sizzling processed meat. You let the boiled water cool to roughly 83°C for about five minutes (you’ve estimated the timing based on ten years of instant coffee making), before pouring them into the mugs.
“Smells good~” Hayoung emerges from the shower, towel wrapped around her hair in a bun. She approaches the kitchen/make-up/dining table and sits down, already helping herself with the warm toast and spam. “I love the coffee you make for me~” she says with her mouth full.
“We gotta go soon, the company shuttle comes in a bit,” you remind her, before wolfing down your share of salty spam, crunchy toast, and cheap coffee. You both scroll through reels on your phones through breakfast, and she pauses every few seconds to tilt the screen toward you. “Look at this backsplash! We could do something like that.” You nod, mouth full of food, pretending not to notice how her voice lifts just a little when she talks about “our kitchen.”
You both finish and clean up, before donning the same deep blue polo tee and bottoms that fully cover your legs (company policy). Once done, you put on socks and shoes, then kneel down to tie Hayoung’s shoelaces — your daily ritual — before quickly heading down together to board the shuttle bus.
The ride to the furniture store is short, crowded, and warm with too many bodies. It's mildly suffocating, and there aren’t any windows that you can slide open. Inflation is on a rising trend, but damn the bus driver who refuses to switch on the air conditioning. Hayoung leans against your shoulder, half-asleep again, her damp hair leaving a faint wet spot on your polo. You don’t mind. You never mind. Instead, you'd give anything for a car, for air-conditioning, for a life where she doesn't have to nap on your shoulder every morning.
The bus rolls up to the backdoor of the store. “Habbang~ wakey wakey. We're here.” You squeeze Hayoung's puffy cheeks with your fingers, waking her from slumber. “Mmmm… already?” She rubs her eyes and lifts her head off your shoulders. “Ah shit, I got your shirt wet again.” Hayoung peers at the damp spot, trying to pat it dry with her sleeve.
“It's alright, I don't mind your saliva on my shirt,” you tease.
“Yah, I didn't drool at all!” She smacks your arm with a smirk. You both wait in your seats for the bus to empty out before disembarking last — no rush to clock in. You both head into Blue Prints, a furniture store that you both have been working in for the past 8 years. You have a love-hate relationship with this place: it's where you get scolded by customers and supervisors, where you feel trapped from real freedom. But it's also where you pay the bills, work toward a better future… and where you met the love of your life.
“So, where are you stationed today?” you ask, turning to stand beside Hayoung, looking at the roster.
“I'm taking dual stations today,” Hayoung groans, tucking her polo tee into her pants. “Study Blueprints and… Kids Blueprints.”
“Good thing they're side by side. Then you won't have to go back and forth across the entire floor,” you reply, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “I’ll be on customer service duty today, so I’ll be up and about. RIP legs.” You bend down and massage your calves, warming them up for the 10-hour walkathon that's about to happen.
“Take it easy. I’ll see you at lunch, my dear~” Hayoung ties her hair into a ponytail, before putting on the company’s cap with the words “Blue Prints” sewn on in a fancy italicised font. “Love you,” she says, leaning in for a quick peck on your cheek before heading off.
Work passes in the usual blur: you hauling flat-packs, helping customers who can’t decide between birch and white, fixing a display shelf that keeps tilting. Hayoung is over in Kids Blueprints, kneeling on the foam mats, building towers with a group of kids who keep knocking them down and giggling. Every time you pass by, she looks up and flashes you that quick, bright smile. You've been married to her for 5 years, but that smile still makes your chest do a stupid flip after all this time.
By closing time you're both tired but wired. The manager waves you off with the keys again (“You two never cause trouble — lock up when you’re done”), and suddenly the store is yours. “Let's tidy up quickly and head out. The mart's gonna close if we get there late,” you say.
“We need coffee,” Hayoung says as you turn off the lights, “otherwise, you’ll be a zombie tomorrow.”
You check your phone as Hayoung steps out of the employee exit, locking the door. “It's about a twenty minute walk… Great. More walking.”
She groans dramatically but links her arm through yours. “You sure you don't want to take the bus? You've been walking all day.”
“It’s alright, I do need to soak my feet in some hot ginger water later though.” You say, yawning mid-sentence. “We have some ginger left at home, might as well use it up.”
The twenty minute walk becomes thirty because of your sore legs, but you don't mind one bit. The stroll to the mart is quiet, a nice break from the chaos from the day. You and Hayoung stand before the mini mart, and the automatic doors slide open.
“Coffee~ Coffee~ Get my lovely coffee~” Hayoung hums and skips to grab a shopping cart, pulling you to her side as you both push it together towards the beverage aisle. “We gotta get some bread and spam too, darling~”
“Aight aight~”
“UHT milk… cereal and… here we ar — fuck.”
“What's wrong?” Hayoung asks, her eyes following your line of sight to the coffee boxes on the shelf. “Oh. Fuck.”
“₩16,500. That's like a 10% increase!” You reach out to grab the price tag pasted on the edge, hoping to find an error or something, except there isn't. The words are printed big and bold: “₩15,000 ₩16,500 PRICE HIKE DUE TO RISING COSTS.”
“10%... It's a lot right? Especially when we drink it so often…” Hayoung says, her voice dropping to a mumble. “I don't think… we can buy this anymore… not when rent is due soon, and when we're not even halfway through our goal…”
“...” You stay silent, gripping the box tighter than before. Your eyes dart around the shelf, trying to search for a cheaper option, but you already know that you both have been already drinking the cheapest option there is. “Maybe we can find some way?” You look at the back of the box, hoping there would be a solution spoonfed to you.
“How about we share a pack each time, and add twice the amount of water? Then the box can last twic—”
“Might as well drink muddy water at this point…” Hayoung laments. She turns towards you, and you can see the sadness in her eyes. She's on the verge of tears.
You sigh, your heart tightening as you remember how this brand of coffee was the first drink you made her, and the drink that initiated your conversation with her when you first met at Blue Prints during a staff break. She's never drank any other brands ever since. You hate how powerless you feel, that you can't even give Hayoung her favourite drink.
“Maybe we can drink something else? I guess we can still buy it, but drink it every alternate day?” you suggest, but you know how ridiculous you sound. Everyone knows that caffeine is essential for surviving the day.
“Then what are we gonna drink on those other alternate days?” Hayoung grumbles as she calms herself down from the short emotional vulnerability earlier.
“Tea, I guess?” You suggest, pointing to the shelf seated right beside the coffee’s. “Tea contains caffeine too.” You put the box containing 150 sticks of hiked coffee sachets into the cart before pushing it further down the aisle.
Hayoung peers at the shelf, her fingers trailing along the row of tea boxes. The LED lights overhead make everything look a little too bright and jarring, daunting, in fact. She picks up a box of barley tea first. It's a familiar yellow barley tea pack, 120 tea bags for ₩8,500.
“This one’s always safe,” she says quietly, turning the box over. “Caffeine-free, good for digestion, helps with bloating after all the ramyeon. We could drink it hot or cold… and it’s cheap enough that we could get two boxes and still have money left for bread.”
You nod, but you both know barley tea is what old people drink at the senior centre near your apartment. “But this is going to make us hungry throughout the day… See? It's written there ‘Diet Tea’. You're already as hourglass and as sexy as you can be,” you say. It’s comforting, sure, but it doesn’t feel like a replacement. It feels like it's gonna make your days worse.
“I’m sexy… ehehehe~” Hayoung giggles as she sets it down and reaches for the next one — corn silk tea, 100 sachets for ₩9,000.
“Corn silk is supposed to be good for detoxing,” she reads off the back. “Helps with water retention, mild diuretic, clears the system. People say it tastes sweet, like corn milk. And it’s caffeine-free too, so we wouldn’t crash in the afternoon.”
You tilt your head. “Sounds… healthy. But I don’t know if I want my morning drink to feel like medicine.”
Hayoung gives a small, tired laugh. “Yeah. It’s not exactly ‘wake me up and make me feel alive.’”
She moves down one more shelf and stops at the ginger tea. Instant ginger tea — 120 sachets for ₩8,000. Slightly cheaper than the barley or corn silk, and less than half the new coffee price.
She lifts the box carefully, like it might bite her.
“Ginger tea…” she reads aloud. “Warming, good for circulation, helps with colds and sore throats, boosts metabolism, reduces nausea. Some people say it improves blood flow and… energy.” Her voice catches on the last word, cheeks flushing just a little as she glances at you sideways. “It’s supposed to be good for… you know. Warmth. Vitality.”
You raise an eyebrow, catching the unspoken implication. She quickly looks back at the box.
“But it’s spicy,” she adds defensively. “Like, really spicy. I don’t know if I can handle ginger first thing in the morning. What if it burns my tongue and I hate it forever?”
You take the box from her and turn it over. The packaging shows a steaming mug with honey and lemon slices floating on top.
“It says you can add honey to balance it,” you point out. “And we already have some left from last winter. Plus… if it helps with colds, that’s practical. We can’t afford to miss work if one of us gets sick again.”
Hayoung chews her lip, staring at the price tag like it’s personally judging her.
₩8,000 for 120 sachets.
Roughly ₩60-70 per serving.
About half of what the coffee now costs.
She exhales slowly, shoulders dropping.
“Okay,” she says at last. “Ginger tea. If it’s the cheapest one that still gives us some energy… and maybe a little extra warmth…” She trails off, cheeks pink again. “We’ll try it. Worst case, we give it to the ahjumma downstairs.”
“Hey, we’re still buying the coffee… we're just having it every alternate day! Don't make it sound like it's doomsday~” You place the box in the cart — right next to the coffee. “Besides, we can drink it at night, unlike coffee.” The cart feels lighter somehow, even though the decision still stings.
Hayoung links her arm through yours again as you push toward the counter. “Let's go get some bread.”
“New adventure,” she murmurs, trying for brightness. “Ginger mornings. Spicy but… hopeful.”
You squeeze her hand.
“Spicy but hopeful,” you echo.
And for the first time all evening, she smiles.
***
“Annnd 39.” You adjust the knob on the progress board on the wall, inching it till the number jumps by one. “It seems we're progressing a teeny tiny bit faster than usual,” you say. Three weeks have passed since the coffee price hike, but you were able to increase the progress bar by two percent, faster than the usual rate of one per month.
“Maybe it was the switch to ginger tea?” Hayoung replies, patting her hair dry as she walks out of the shower. The ginger boxes sit on the extra chairs beside the dining table — your makeshift shelf — two full ones now, because Hayoung insisted on buying a second one when the first packet proved surprisingly good. “We’re spending half the money on drinks now anyway,” she says, “I wanna drink one now too~ It's so good.” She skips towards you, grabbing the kettle and filling it with water, putting it to boil.
Hayoung drinks it every morning now with a spoonful of honey, claiming it “wakes her up without the crash”. You’ve grown to like the spicy warmth too, though you still miss the coffee’s bold kick. It’s not the same, but it’s something you figured out together. That counts.
The progress bar feels like an ever expanding ocean, looming larger every time you glance at it. Things are getting more expensive, and your target increases with it. But that's a problem that'll persist, no point worrying about it right now. You have an actual problem to deal with.
“Habbang, it's dead,” you announce.
“What? Don't scare m— oh.” Hayoung’s voice softens as she looks in your direction. The kettle is still roaring as it heats the water, but grey smoke rises from the rice cooker when you open it a few moments earlier. A burnt-char smell drifts out of the rice cooker, wafting into your noses as you scrunch them.
“How long has it been? 4 years? It's about time it popped, I guess.” You shrug and you flip the socket’s switch, cutting the power supply off.
“What now? I'm starving… especially when we missed lunch today.” Hayoung pouts dejectedly. “We can't possibly just eat spam and eggs and drink ginger tea with no rice… Rice is life! Plus, it's already this late, where are we gonna make a rice cooker appear out of nowhere?” She shoots questions out, panicking insecurely.
“Hey hey hey~ Relax baby~” you reassure her, “It’s not the end of the world. It's the 21st century, we have the Internet, Google, AI… if nothing works out, we’ll just live off instant rice, or just get a new rice cooker! Although I’d rather not spend more money…”
Finally calming down, Hayoung stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, chin on your shoulder. “...Well,” she says softly. “We’ve got a pot, a stove, and YouTube. We’re basically chefs now.”
You let out a tired laugh. “Chefs who will probably murder dinner. We’ll fix it together. Come on.”
You pull up a video on your phone — “How to steam perfect rice in a pot without a rice cooker” — and follow the steps like it’s a sacred ritual. Hayoung measures the rice and rinses it until the water runs clear, then stands beside you at the portable stove on the dining table, hip bumping yours.
“One point two parts water to one part rice,” she reads aloud, her voice a mix of mock-serious. “Add them into a bowl and place it in the pot with a riser. Fill the bottom with water, and turn on the heat on medium. Steam it while covered for 30 minutes. No peeking.”
You follow the cooking instructor. Soon, the kitchen fills with steam and the faint nutty smell of rice. You both hover like anxious parents, waiting for the timer to ring.
When the 30 minutes are up, you lift the lid — and the rice is… fine. It almost doubled in volume, a little sticky in places, a little uneven, but edible.
“We did it!” Hayoung claps delightfully.
You remove the steaming rice with oven mitts, and scoop it into two mismatched bowls, topping it with kimchi that your mom made, and a fried egg each. You transfer all the plates and bowls onto the mini drinking table on the floor, and the stir fried spam and frozen corn kernels sit in a serving plate between you both. Dinner is ready.
Hayoung is sipping on her cup of ginger tea, anxiously waiting to try the rice. No dining table — it's too messy right now with all the pots and pans to wash. You both sit cross-legged on the floor, side-by-side with your backs leaning against the bed frame and dig in.
Hayoung takes the first bite, eyes closing in exaggerated bliss. “It’s good~ tastes just like… rice. Eheheheh~” she giggles, chopsticks reaching out to grab a piece of diced spam. “Mmmm. It's a little wet and sticky, but it’ll do,” she says.
“I’ll probably need to add less water the next time. I think we don't need to get a rice cooker at all!” You say, breaking the yolk of your fried egg, allowing it to flow onto the steaming rice below. The residual heat from the rice cooks the runny yolk a little further as you mix the egg in, turning it into a golden indulgence of gooey and creamy rice.
You put down your bowl and set your phone onto the table, turning on a video of a house tour again. You both have been watching them since forever, envisioning how your future home would be like, constantly talking about furniture placements, electronics to buy. You want to build a family with Hayoung, a future, somewhere that you can both call home. And you're both inching towards that goal, month by month, dollar by dollar, percent by percent.
For a few minutes, the room is quiet except for the sound of chopsticks and soft chewing. Then Hayoung sets her bowl down and leans against you, head on your shoulder.
“I keep thinking about the kitchen in Blue Prints,” she says quietly. “The one with the big island. The white cabinets. I imagine us there every morning… making real food. Not burnt rice or spam sandwiches.”
You wrap an arm around her. “We’ll get there.”
She nods, but her voice wavers. “I want to make you breakfast. Like, proper breakfast. And then… maybe later, when we’re ready, I want to make baby food. Tiny bowls of mashed sweet potato. Little spoons.”
Her words land soft but heavy. You rest your hand on her stomach — it's flat now, but full of possibility. But it's too early to commit.
“We will,” you say. “We’ll build that kitchen. We’ll fill those bowls. One percent at a time.”
She turns her face into your neck, breathing you in.
“I know,” she whispers. “I just… I want it so much it hurts sometimes.”
You kiss her forehead, thumb rubbing her cheeks as you cup her face.
“Then tonight we practice,” you murmur. “We practice building. Right here.”
She lifts her head, eyes searching yours. A small, hopeful smile breaks through.
“Practice?”
You nod, pulling her closer until she’s in your lap, legs straddling yours.
“Practice,” you repeat.
And for the first time in weeks, the kiss isn’t careful or restrained. Maybe it's due to the ginger tea’s “energy boosting” and “warming effect”. But it doesn’t matter. You're both hungry. You lift Hayoung onto the bed, hands sliding under each other’s shirts, breaths catching, bodies pressing together on the thin mattress like you’re trying to fuse the pieces of your future right now.
But you don’t go all the way, not yet. Not when you're both still struggling. She looks into your eyes when she shatters, her own glassy and understanding as she nods when you grunt that you have to pull out.
You get close, close enough to feel the heat, the want, the promise.
Close enough to believe that someday, the blueprint won’t be scattered anymore.
***
A month has passed since the rice cooker died, and somehow the apartment still stands.
The savings board now reads 42% as you twist the knob tonight with a quiet sense of pride.
“5%...” You mumble to yourself as you rub your fingers against the number on the board. This has been the biggest jump yet. All that hard work has not been for naught. Extra overtime shifts, a couple of generous tips from customers who appreciated your patience with their build-your-own woes, and the fact that ginger tea is half the price of the old coffee all helped. The number on the banking app looks bigger than it has been in months. You're not a millionaire yet, probably never will be, but you're 5% closer to your dream.
Hayoung notices the change the second she walks out from the shower.
“Forty-two?” she says, towel still wrapped around her body. You look at her puzzled, mouth opening to ask, but she cuts you off with a grin. “I forgot to bring my clothes in hehe~ What? You've seen everything already anyway!” She pads over to the clothes rack barefoot, grabbing your oversized T-shirt (she always wears yours), before slipping the towel off. She exposes her naked body and poses at you cutely, winking at you with a pout, before putting on the T-shirt, finishing off with her panties and a pair of shorts.
The extra large T-shirt slips off one shoulder as she walks and stands beside you, and she raises her hand to trace the number with her finger like she’s afraid it’ll disappear if she blinks. “We actually did five percent?”
You nod, smiling. “We did. Overtime paid off. And we didn’t have any surprise bills this month.”
“You worked hard…” She turns to grab your hands, rubbing them softly as she looks into your eyes.
“No.” You smile, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “We worked hard.”
“Eheheheh~” Hayoung blushes and giggles, her eyes shining brightly as it curves into smiling crescents. It's those goddamn eyes and chubby cheeks of hers that you fell in love with.
“We should celebrate,” you declare, heart fuzzy from Hayoung’s cuteness.
“Celebrate how? We only have the usual — eggs, spam, rice and corn. There isn't much we can do with those.” Hayoung tilts her head and asks.
You grin, “One treat. Just one. We’ve earned it.”
An hour later you’re back home, both sitting cross-legged on the floor again. Your backs lean against the bedframe, and you both are sharing a single portion of tteokbokki from the hole-in-the-wall place two streets over. It’s the cheapest thing on the menu — spicy rice cakes in red sauce, no meat, no extras — but you both eat it slowly, savoring every bite like it’s a Michelin-star dish. You did still whip up two fried eggs and the same stir fried spam and corn (still have to get your daily protein and fiber intake); but once thrown into the tteokbokki, it transforms that into a sinful indulgence — or at least you both view it to be.
Hayoung feeds you a piece of chewy rice cake with her chopsticks, the sauce dripping onto the paper plate between you.
“I miss having real food… I wish I could feed you all your favourites daily,” you say, feeding Hayoung with some spam drenched in the red, spicy sauce. “I don't even know what you like other than tteokbokki and beef and bread and spam, because I've never even brought you to eat at nice fancy restaurants.”
“Does it really matter right now? I mean it does, but I’m the happiest when I’m with you~” Hayoung says, grinning with her eyes closed and cheekbones raised. “See?” she says, licking sauce off her thumb. “This is what our life will be like when we have a real kitchen. Takeout nights, but on our own table. With matching plates. And maybe a baby in a high chair stealing bites.”
You swallow the rice cake, your throat suddenly tight. “Yeah,” you say softly. “With a baby.”
She sets her chopsticks down and leans against your shoulder. “I bought something today,” she whispers.
You feel her shift, reaching into the pocket in her pants, and pull out a tiny folded piece of fabric. She smooths it open on her lap.
It’s a baby onesie — pale yellow, impossibly small, with a little embroidered heart on the chest.
“I saw it on clearance at the mart,” she says. “I know we’re not ready yet. I know we can’t… not yet. But I couldn’t leave it there. I just… I wanted to hold it. Just once —”
Her voice cracks on the last word.
You reach over and cover her hand with yours, fingers brushing the soft cotton. “It’s perfect,” you say. “The heart is perfect.”
She laughs softly, her eyes glassy and moist as she presses the onesie to her cheek for a second.
“I’ll hide it in the drawer,” she says. “Under the socks. Like a secret. If I keep it safe, the rest will come true. Like a tooth fairy, you know? Like if you hide your tooth under your pillow, you’ll be rewarded with a gold coin.”
You gently take the onesie from her hands, feeling the soft fabric between your fingers. It's a flat piece of cloth now, but you're imagining the warmth of your future child’s flesh in your hands, feeling the small heartbeat as you cradle your child in your arms, watching it grow up day by day. Your heart aches. You’re aching to try for a child right now… but it's not right to raise one in such an environment. Hell, you don't even have a proper kitchen, what more a studying table or even a separate bedroom for your kids.
You look back at Hayoung as she stares into your eyes. They're filled with hope and yearning, but they're also filled with sadness and disappointment. You carry her into your lap, wrapping your arms around her waist as she leans her back onto your chest. Your chin rests on her shoulder so you’re both looking down at the tiny garment.
“It will,” you murmur against her ear. “We’ll make it come true. One percent at a time.”
She turns her face toward you, eyes shining.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She turns her head around, her cheek brushing against yours as she pecks you on the lips. “Honey…I need you right now.” Hayoung whispers, her breath hot against your lips.
You don't say anything. Both of you just stare silently at each other for a few breaths. You lift her up from your lap and gently set her down onto the thin mattress behind you. Towering over her as she lies flat on the bed, your arms are perched on both sides of her head as you look at her beautiful face.
“W-why are you staring at me?” Her cheeks are flush with embarrassment, and her fingers grip onto the bottom hem of your oversized tee nervously.
“You're so beautiful, Hayoung,” you confess, “You're my princess… I want to give you the whole damn world.” You inch your face closer until your lips hover just above hers, staring deep into her glassy eyes.
“I love you so fucking much, Habbang,” you breathe, and dive into her lips. Hayoung’s eyes close, her hands wrapping around your back instinctively, trying to pull you in as your tongues dance around each other. She's moaning into your mouth through the intense kiss, suckling on your tongue and lips like it's the last thing in the world.
You pull off from her face and a thick strand of your salivas connect between both your lips, gasping for breath. “I love you too,” Hayoung gasps, her eyes drunk with need.
You climb onto the bed kneeling over Hayoung on both sides of her hips and her hands automatically grab the hem of your shorts tugging them down to reveal your throbbing hard erection. Your mind is dizzy from the kiss as you hastily peel off your shirt, throwing it to the floor. You let out a soft grunt as Hayoung softly grabs your length, giving it a few slow pumps. You're already leaking, throbbing from the desire to start a family. But not today.
You reach downwards and slide your hands underneath Hayoung’s shirt, firmly grabbing on to her soft breasts. She mewls, head tilting to the side as she revels in the pleasurable sensations your fingers provide.
“P-please….” Hayoung begs. You don't deny, because you want it too. You pull down her shorts, leaving it bunched around one of her ankles. No panties — you're both at home, no need for underwear.
Hayoung’s pussy is already wet and glistening with need. She looks down at you, eyes glassy with want, and whispers, “Please… touch me.”
You slide your hands up her thighs, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just below where she’s aching. She shivers, hips twitching forward instinctively. You part her folds gently with your fingers, then lean up to kiss her there slowly. Your mouth opens and your tongue flicks lightly over her clit. She gasps, hands flying to your hair.
“More,” she breathes. “Please.”
You give her more, licking in slow circles, sucking gently, tasting her sweetness. She rocks against your mouth and her soft whimpers turn into moans that echo within the tiny room. Her thighs tremble around your head.
She doesn’t let you stay there long. With a shaky breath, she pushes you down onto the mattress and turns, straddling your face in reverse, her mouth hovering over your aching cock. “Together,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I want you to feel good too.”
You groan as her lips parts around you. It's hot, wet, and perfect. She takes you slow at first, tongue swirling around the head, then deeper, her cheeks hollowing. You thrust shallowly into her mouth while your tongue returns to her clit, matching her rhythm. It’s messy, intimate, and desperate, the two of you giving and taking at the same time, bodies locked in a trembling 69 on the thin mattress.
Hayoung moans around you, the vibration shooting straight up your spine. Her hips grind down harder against your face and you can feel her getting close. Her thighs are shaking, and her breaths grow increasingly ragged. You suck her clit gently, flicking fast, and she cries out — muffled by your cock — as she cums hard, flooding your mouth with her release.
The taste of her, the sound of her, the way she trembles. It pushes you over. You warn her with a grunt and your hips jerk, but she doesn’t pull away. She takes you deeper, swallowing every pulse as you spill into her mouth, groaning her name against her still-quivering pussy.
When it’s over, she collapses forward, both of you panting, slick and spent. She turns slowly, crawling up your body until she’s curled against your chest, face tucked into your neck. Your arms wrap around her automatically, holding her close.
For a long minute there’s only the sound of your breathing and the faint hum of the refrigerator.
Hayoung lifts her head just enough to meet your eyes. “I want to start trying,” she whispers. “I know we’re not at 50% yet. I know it’s not smart. But… I’m scared if we wait too long, it’ll be harder. My mom always said the longer you wait, the more problems can come up. And I… I don’t want to miss our chance because we were too careful.”
You brush hair from her face, thumb tracing her cheek. “I know,” you say softly.
She nods, eyes shining again.
“Then… when we hit 50%,” you say, “even if it’s just barely. Even if we’re still in this room. Let’s start trying. For real. No more pulling out. No more waiting.”
You pull her in for a slow, deep kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue, tasting her on yours.
“Fifty percent,” you promise against her lips. “We’ll get there. And when we do… we start building our family. For real.”
She smiles and presses her forehead to yours.
“Fifty percent,” she echoes.
And for tonight, that promise feels closer than ever.
***
Six weeks have passed since the 42% celebration, but the progress bar has slipped back to 40%.
The five-percent jump felt like proof you were finally moving forward, but life doesn’t let progress stand still for long, however small it is. A medical fee for Hayoung’s lingering cough, a one-off fee to replace a cracked phone screen, and now this.
“I hate the world. Why does wear and tear even exist?” Hayoung grumbles as she closes the door behind you, kicking her sneakers off — or at least what remains of them. Her sneakers roll onto the ground, one to the front, the other landing begrudgingly to the side. “I can't believe both of them gave up at the same time…”
Her shoes gave way right before lunch, and you both tried to improvise and fix it in the staff room so that she could continue working throughout the day.
You kneel down and look at her shoes: both their soles are fastened together by duct tape that loops around the front, and the tape is already peeling at the edges from the countless walking from the day.
“Ehehehehe~” Hayoung giggles as she squats down with her legs tucked in, looking at the tape, “You drew these doodles on so cutely~”
“Gotta make it look fashionable right? You're basically walking about the showroom floor, I can't have you looking like a peasant.” You laugh tiredly.
“Did you see our supervisor's face, he was basically glaring at us the whole time.” Hayoung jokes and scrunches her eyebrows to frown, trying to mimic your supervisor’s expression.
“You're gonna get wrinkles if you continue to do that,” you say. You remember. You’d both been giggling like kids, marker in hand, turning the breakdown into a joke. It felt like defiance then. Now it feels like a plaster on a broken leg.
You support Hayoung and lower her into a sitting position, before gently removing her socks from her feet. “These poor feet must've hurt…” you frown as you massage her feet tenderly.
“The number's gonna drop again right?” she says, looking at the progress board in the centre of the room. “Anyway that we can fix’em so that I can continue wearing it?”
“Y’know, the supervisor dragged me aside earlier and said new shoes for you or you're out of dress code,” you say with a sigh. “Company policy.” You stare at the taped mess on the floor. “How much?”
“₩60,000 to ₩80,000 for anything decent,” she replies, her voice sinking lower. “The cheap ones are forty, but they fall apart in a month. We’d just be back here again.”
You look at her in silence.
“I hate asking you to fix things that keep breaking,” she whispers. “I hate that we’re always one step behind.”
Your mouth opens to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.
Hayoung’s eyes stay fixated on the number — 41% — refusing to look at you as her lip trembles. “I don’t want to see it drop again,” she whispers. “We just got to forty-two. It felt… real. Like we were actually getting somewhere. If we spend now…” Her voice cracks. “I’m scared we’ll never climb back up.”
You sit down on the ground from your kneeling position and take her hands. They’re cold. “I know,” you say quietly. “But your feet hurt. You winced every step home. If you keep wearing those, you’ll injure yourself worse. Then you can’t work. Then we lose even more.”
She looks down, her eyes now glassy.
“I can tape them better,” she mumbles. “We’ll make it work.”
“You shouldn’t have to tape your shoes to work,” you say, thumb rubbing circles over her knuckles. “You deserve something that lasts. Something that doesn’t hurt. This isn’t spending — it’s investing in us. In you so that you can keep going.”
Hayoung stares at your hands for a long moment. A tear slips free, dripping onto the back of your palm. She swipes it away quickly.
“I hate this,” she says. “I hate that every time we move forward, something pulls us back.”
“I know. But we’re still moving. One step at a time. Even if it’s backward sometimes.” You point to the progress bar, and say, “Remember when we first bought that? We started out at zero. Look where we're at right now? Almost halfway there. I think that's progress.”
“You're my bbang princess, not a crying princess, so don't cry already alright?”
She takes a deep breath and exhales, nodding slowly.
“Okay,” she whispers.
“Let’s go get some shoes. It's our shopping date tonight.”
“Deal.”
Half an hour later, you're both at the nearby shoe mart — you insisted on taking the public bus instead of walking despite her protests, wanting to protect her precious feet. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a warm glow over the shelves filled with all kinds of shoes. Hayoung is seated on the bench, sneakers lined up in front of her feet.
You're kneeled on one leg at her side, putting another rejected shoe back into the box. “So what's it gonna be? These are the most comfortable of the lot right?” You ask, looking at the three sneakers finalists. They are basically the same model to which you insisted to get — good cushioning, reinforced sole, breathable mesh — albeit the high price of ₩78,000.
“Can we just get that one there? That one will work just fine, I swear.” Hayoung pouts, puffing her cheeks in protest as she points to the pair on display farthest from you, the one with a modest “₩36,000” price tag.
“Nuh uh. You're listening to me today.”
“But these are too expens—”
“Habbang. I know. It's not cheap, but it’ll last for years,” you retort softly. “You know how much we walk daily… Those are gonna wear out twice as fast as your current one, and we're gonna have to get a new one in a few months.”
“But—”
“I saw how you wiggled your toes earlier, those look so tight, especially at the front. Your toes are gonna get blisters. Remember what you promised me when we were on the way just now? You said you would list—”
“Okay okay! I got it! Stop nagging you naggy man~” Hayoung whines in defeat, swinging her hanging feet up and down with her palms tucked under her thighs. “I want the black pair,” she says.
“Great, we're going for the sky blue one then.”
“Wait, no! The black oneeee…”
You ignore her and stuff the other two black and gray pairs back into the boxes, before marching to the cashier with the sky blue sneakers in hand. Hayoung clambers behind you, constantly pulling and tugging the hem of your shirt. “Babeee… the black one pleasee? It’s less likely to get dirty…”
You ignore her and swipe the card, paying the full ₩78,000 without hesitation. The clerk bags them, and Hayoung carries the box under her arm like it’s made of glass.
The walk home is quiet at first. She made a fuss to walk instead of taking the bus since so much money had already been spent, to which you obliged. Rain has started, although it’s a light, steady drizzle. Hayoung’s old taped shoes squelch with every step, the tape already peeling off from the rain. So when you walk past the nearby convenience store, you beg for two small plastic bags from the store attendant, and wrap Hayoung’s shoes with them. You tie the plastic bags tight with a double knot, and it's done. “Tada~ build-your-own waterproof shoes!” Both her two pairs of shoes now stay dry, the old ones within your genius bagging skills, and the new ones in the shoe mart’s bag.
You bump her shoulder gently as you both continue to walk back. “I wanted to buy you high heels, you know,” you say teasingly. “Sky blue ones. Tall ones. The kind that makes your legs look endless.”
“Is that why you ignored my pleas in front of everyone? That was so embarassing!” she complained, although her beaming smile tells a different story.
“I know you love sky blue, which is why I insisted on it, especially since we're already paying such a high price for it.” You say, ruffling her hair as the rain gets progressively heavier. “I want to buy you so many shoes, so many handbags, dress you up with all the pretty clothes… But this is all I can get you right now….”
“But here am I, only able to sponsor you to be my Practical Princess.”
Hayoung snorts with a wet, half-laugh, then leans into you under the shared umbrella.
“Practical princess,” she echoes. “I’ll take it.” She slips her hand into yours, her fingers cold but the grip is tight.
“We’re gonna be okay,” she says softly. “Right?”
You squeeze her hand.
“Right.”
Back home, she sets the new shoe box by the door like a trophy. The taped pair goes in the trash with no mercy.
She curls into your side on the mattress, head leaning soft on your chest. The savings board watches from the wall.
40%.
But tomorrow, her feet won’t hurt.
And that feels like progress.
***
The savings board reads 75% when you twist the knob that night.
You stare at the number like it might vanish if you blink. 75%. A whole 30% jump. After three long years of 1% salaried crawls, sudden overtime windfalls, skimped meals, and endless ginger tea (you both still love it though), the lottery ticket you bought on a whim — just one, for laughs — actually hit. It's not the jackpot prize of ₩2.5 billion, but it's more than enough to pay for the downpayment of a 3-room rental apartment, one with a real kitchen, a room where you can sleep comfortably, and a bedroom with space for a crib. You're both way past the 50% line where you both swore was the starting point; the line where you both struggled to cross, the line where it signified new beginnings.
“Really? Like really really?” Hayoung screams at the numbers on the lottery site.
“Yep, I’ve already taken the liberty to retrieve the money annnd… look!” You say and flash your phone’s screen in Hayoung’s face, the numbers standing proud — a whopping ₩80 million added to your joint savings account. “I wanted to give you a surprise~”
“One, two, three…” Hayoung counts the number of zeroes on the screen over and over again, refusing to believe her eyes. She squeals in excitement, hopping up and down, and leaps onto you, wrapping her legs around your waist. “80! It's 80 million honey!” She giggles as you spin her around the tiny apartment, laughing together until she cries.
“Damn it! Keep it down!” your neighbours bang on the wall.
You both collapse on the mattress breathless, staring at the banking all like it's a miracle.
“We did it,” she keeps whispering, her face buried in your neck as she cries. “We actually did it.”
You kiss her tears, her cheeks, her lips, murmuring to her. “We’re building it. For real. Starting tomorrow.”
She nods, eyes shining. “50%. We’re way past that now.”
You fall asleep tangled together, the onesie she’d hidden in the drawer finally pulled out and placed on the pillow between you like a talisman.
***
The call comes at 7:14 a.m.
Hayoung’s phone buzzes on the floor. “Who—” She groans, reaching for it as you both munch on breakfast, then freezes when she sees the caller ID.
“Mom?”
You place your fork and plate down, instantly alert. Hayoung’s face drains of colour as she listens quietly, only occasionally replying with a short grunt. Her free hand grips your thigh so hard that it stings, but you ignore the pain when you see her hands trembling.
Hayoung lowers the phone, her lips pale. “Dad… collapsed earlier. They took him to the hospital.” She blurts, eyes already reddening. “They said they need to operate on him, but the surgery alone costs ₩120 million and the hospital won't schedule it without a deposit.”
You grip her hands gently, trying to soothe and calm her down.
“Mom’s crying… she doesn't know what to do…”
The room goes quiet except for Hayoung’s mother’s muffled sobbing through the speaker. Hayoung looks at you, eyes already teary, wide and terrified.
You don’t hesitate.
“Tell her we’ll send it,” you say softly and smile.
“But… the house…” Hayoung’s lips tremble.
“We’ll build another one,” you say. “Dad needs this now.”
She stares at you for a long moment, then nod hesitantly. Tears slip down her cheeks when she speaks into the phone.
“Mom… we have the money. We’ll transfer it immediately. Tell them to schedule the surgery.”
Hayoung hangs up.
The silence that follows was deafening.
Hayoung looks at the savings board. 75%. It suddenly feels empty.
“Habbang-ah, just call in sick today — family emergency,” you murmur, your hands caressing her cheeks, wiping the tears off. “Go visit Dad and accompany Mom.”
“But—”
“Shhh. Don't worry about it. I’ll handle your share of work today.” You reassure her, “I'm sure our supervisor will understand the situation.”
She stares at you while you look at her with calm and concerned eyes. “I’ll clear these up and head to work, so you quickly head to the hospital,” you say, already moving to clear the dishes. “Go accompany your Mom, she must have had a scare—”
Hayoung cuts you short and lunges at you, hugging you as she wraps her arms around your back. “I'm—sorry—” she sniffles, tears and snot seeping into your shirt.
You grab her by the shoulders and squish her cheeks. “Habbang. Look at me. Don't worry about me. Dad is more important right now. Hurry, no time to waste! And take a cab to the hospital, this isn't the time to be thrifty.” You turn her around and push her towards the bathroom, asking her to wash up. You turn to grab her clothes from the rack, passing them to her so that she can change, before making a call to book a taxi.
“Text me when you're there, and keep me updated okay? Tell Mom that I'm sorry that I can't be there.” You say as you close the door to the vehicle, waving goodbye to Hayoung’s teary face as the cab runs down the road.
“I hope everything goes fine with Dad…” you mumble to yourself, before heading back upstairs to get ready for work.
“Hi supervisor, my wife Hayoung will be submitting a request for an urgent family care leave today and won't be coming to work…” You make a call to your supervisor, applying for a leave of absence from work on your wife’s behalf, bargaining that you’ll take on her share of today’s workload. Once the approval was given, you change out and leave for work.
The day wasn't as merciful as you'd hoped. A constant influx of unreasonable customers, an unimaginable number of repair requests (most of them were not covered under warranty), and a wave of emails that notified you of supplier delays. The only saving grace to this dreadful day was Hayoung’s constant updates on her father’s condition — fortunately the surgery went fine, and her father is now stabilising in the monitoring ward.
Your phone buzzes and you check. It's another text from Hayoung.
<Habbang ❤️, 15:27:31> Dad’s condition has stabilised. All thanks to the doctors. How is it over at your side?
<You, 15:27:47> That's really really good! You and Mom must have been worried…
<You, 15:27:59> I’ll have to work overtime for a few hours, see you at home?
<Habbang ❤️, 15:29:32> Is it because of me? TT I’m sowwy…
<You, 15:30:29> Yah, what did I say about apologising to me? Don't ever do that.
<Habbang ❤️, 15:30:48> But still…
<You, 15:31:40> Don’t worry about me and make sure you and Mom grab something to eat. I’ll see you back at home tonight. Remember to drink water~
<Habbang ❤️, 15:32:34> Okay…🥺
You lock your phone and stuff it back into your pocket, sighing at the remaining paperwork to complete. You take a sip of ginger tea — it's your 6th one today — slapping your cheeks with your palm, and get back to work.
The few extra overtime hours pass by in a flash, and you're done a little earlier than expected. You pack your stuff, grab your bag and switch off the lights. Blue Prints closes behind you with a soft click.
Today, the once-assembled showrooms feel different — half-built, half-empty, like incomplete and scattered plans. Darkness swallows Blue Prints whole, and the faint glow of emergency lights along the floor cuts through each display, fracturing the perfect illusions into jagged pieces.
“Habbang~ I’m back,” you say with a slightly raised voice as you open the main door.
No answer. Only the faint sound of running water fills the empty silence of your small room.
You walk in and set your bag down on the ground beside the bed and turn to look at the bathroom. The bathroom door is closed.
You set the water to boil, and made two cups of ginger tea.
You wait.
The shower is still running. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty.
You knock softly. No answer.
You try the handle. It's unlocked.
You push the door open.
Hayoung is crouched naked in the corner of the shower stall, knees tucked to her chest, head bowed low. Water pours over her back, soaking her hair, running in streams down her skin. She's shaking — not from cold, but from silent, wrenching sobs that make her whole body jerk.
You don't think. You step into the bathroom fully clothed, your deep blue polo tee still on, your work pants still on. You sit down on the wet tile beside her, and pull her into your lap.
Hayoung doesn't resist. She curls into you like a child and presses her face into your chest, crying harder now. The raw, broken sounds of her uncontrollable sobs echoes off the tiles.
“I’m sorry,” she chokes out. “I'm sorry for robbing our future.”
You hold her tight, the water soaking through your hair, your shirt, your pants.
“It was your win. Your ticket. And my family… I took it all away. I ruined everything.” Hayoung bawls even louder.
“You’re not ruining anything. You’re the reason I keep going,” you counter immediately.
“I'm always ruining everything… the coffee, my shoes, me getting sick… I-I—”
You hate seeing her like this — like she thinks she broke everything. But she didn’t. She never could.
“Shhh,” you whisper, rocking her gently, rubbing her wet hair. “You didn't take anything. We gave it. Because that's what we do. We help family. We help each other.”
She shakes her head against you, hiccups mixing in between sobs. “We were so close… We went past 50% by so much. We could have started trying. And now… now it's gone. Because of me. It's me again.”
You cup her face and lift it so that she has no choice but to look at you. Water streams down both your faces, mixing with her tears.
“Listen to me,” you said, voice steady even though it carries a hint of a tremble. “Remember what we said when we got married? Forever. Every challenge. Every obstacle. Together. That hasn't changed. It's never you. It's us.”
She stares at you, her eyes red and swollen.
“We lost the money,” you continue. “But we didn't lose us. We didn't lose the dream. We just… hit a delay. Like we always do. We’ll build again. Continue to build like we always do.”
Her lips tremble, “I feel like I stole your future.”
You kiss her forehead, her cheeks, and her lips softly and slowly, tasting salt and water.
“Our future,” you correct. “And I’d give it again. A hundred times. For our dad. For our mom. For you. For us.”
Hayoung clings to you, sobbing quietly now, her arms still locked around your neck. You both stay like that until the water runs cold and the sobbing softens.
You finally stand up, turn the water off, and wrap Hayoung in a dry towel. You carry her like a wrapped dumpling to the mattress and sit with her in your lap, rocking her until her breathing evens out.
She lifts her head after a while, and says softly, “I don't want to be here tonight. Not to this cold and thin mattress. Not to the board at 40%.”
You brush the wet hair from her face. “Then we don't,” you say. “I have the keys again this week.”
“Blue Prints?”
You nod.
“Let's go. Let's pretend… just for tonight… that none of this happened. That we still have everything,” you say.
Hayoung stares into your eyes for a long moment. “Okay,” she whispers. “Let’s pretend.” You help her dress — your oversized burgundy hoodie, pleated shorts, and knee high socks. You carry her on your back and take the keys, locking the apartment behind you, walking into the night.
Blue Prints awaits.
And tonight, you both are going to claim what the world kept taking away.
The employee entrance clicks shut behind you. Blue Prints is dark except for the faint glow of emergency strips along the floor. The air smells of fabric sheets and furniture pine wood — familiar, comforting, and suddenly heartbreaking.
Hayoung lies over your back, hoodie sleeves pulled over her fingers, still trembling slightly from the shower. Hayoung is light, unbelievably so, but you can feel the weight of the day on her pressing down on you — the hospital, her worry, the guilt, and the loss of the lottery money. But she's right here, with you.
You don't speak at first. You just walk, carrying her on your back, carrying the weight of your future as you walk through the showroom, down across the different blueprints. “You pause before the living room display and murmur, “I’ve always imagined us here everyday. Sitting on the couch, enjoying your favourite dramas, watching comedy films, enjoying snacks and drinking beers.”
“Me too. I've always wanted to have a couch on our own, one that we can sink in and relax after a tough day at work. I don't want to sit on the floor forever.” Hayoung adds softly.
You nod and continue walking down towards the next blueprint. “You see this bathroom? I want it huge, one with a sink and mirror that’s large enough so that we can brush our teeth together.”
Hayoung nods in agreement, her muffled sobs no longer, now replaced with soft giggles. “I always imagine how it would be like when you wash your face, all white with the cleanser foam~ And I want a bath tub too, one that we can sink our bodies in together, soaking in the warm water to soothe our tired muscles.”
You carry her and move along, walking past the bedroom showroom. “I would then buy a huge bed, one with a mattress that's so wide that we can do all sorts of things…” you say.
“Yeah~ I wanna fit all sorts of things in our huge room — a large wardrobe, a make up counter… a baby crib…” Hayoung says excitedly, before softening at the mention of the crib.
You can almost see it — a tiny crib in the corner, Hayoung humming as she rocks it. You want it so badly it hurts.
You continue walking, talking to Hayoung, drawing up imaginary plans to your aspiring home. Then you stop at the kitchen blueprint.
“You must be tired, carrying me. Let me down.” Hayoung whispers in your ear. You slowly lower her down onto the ground, and she stands wobbly, holding on to your hands for support.
Her hands are cold. You guide her into the showroom, fingers locked tight around hers. The big island gleams under the accent lights — white marble-look countertop, deep sink, open shelves. Hayoung stops in front of it, running her fingers along the edge like she’s touching something unachievable.
“Imagine me here every morning,” she says, looking back at you. “Me chopping vegetables, washing rice, tossing and stirring actual food in our pans.”
You stand beside her and grab two mugs. “Then I would boil some water in the kettle, still making our favourite coffee and ginger tea, warming ourselves up for the day ahead.” You say, smiling at her.
“I would make your favourite food for dinner, whip up the lamest 0 star Michelin meals for us.” Hayoung continues, her voice drooping lower. “A kitchen like this. Where I could cook for you every morning. Where I could… make food for our baby.”
Her voice cracks on the last word. She turns to you, eyes glassy again.
You step behind her, arms sliding around her waist, chest pressed to her back. You rest your chin on her shoulder.
“Then let's pretend tonight,” you murmur against her ear. “Just us. Let me give you that tonight.”
You turn her in your arms till she faces you and kiss her, slow at first, then deeper, tasting the salt of her tears and the spicy ginger tea and everything that you both have been holding back for the past five years. Her hands slide under your polo, palms warm against your back. You reciprocate and slide yours under the hoodie, grabbing her soft breasts, kneading them lightly.
“M-more…” Hayoung moans into your lips, her arms pulling you towards her, refusing to let go. You grunt and flick your fingers against her already stiff nipples, drawing out a soft mewl from her.
“Habbang…” you say as you pull off from her lips. You grab the hem of her hoodie and pull it up gently, letting it slide up her body, off her arms, before letting it fall onto the island.
She's bare underneath, her soft and smooth skin glowing in the low light. You lift her onto the island and peel off her shorts, throwing it onto the floor. Hayoung’s legs part around your hips, and she gasps when you press your clothed sex between her thighs, already hard, already aching for her.
You kiss her cheeks, her neck, her collarbone, down to her breasts, tongue circling one nipple, then the other, until she's arching, moaning softly. “Please…” she pleads, her voice trembling. “Cum in me. Pretend this is the night. Pretend that we crossed the 50%. Pretend that we didn't lose everything.”
“I'm yours,” you groan, suckling her breasts harder. “Always.”
You unlatch your lips from her tits, and continue kissing downwards, past her tight waist, down towards her spread legs. “Babe… you're so… wet… How long have you wanted me?” Her folds are glistening, soaked with her greed and desire to start a family.
“Always. Ever since we got married. Ever since you asked me out. Ever since I met you.” Hayoung says, cupping your face to look up at hers. “I've always wanted to marry you, start a family with you, bear your child…”
You stare deeply into her eyes, and some switch flips inside you. You stand upright instantly, hands reaching down to unbuckle your belt. You tug your loosened pants down, letting it fall to the ground, your ankles kicking it aside. You're hard, unbelievably hard. Your cock throbs with need, already leaking from the slit as the tip hovers before her pussy.
“Hayoung.” You whisper, your hands gripping her tiny waist. She looks up at you, her eyes begging with raw desire. “Let's start a family.”
The moment those words left your mouth, you push into her slowly — she's so wet, so ready — and she cries out, head nodding desperately as her nails dig into your back. You sink yourself bit by bit, parting her tight, hot walls until you're fully embedded in her.
“You're so tight…” you groan, her heat melting both your cock and your mind.
“I need you… please—”
Even before she completes her sentence, you draw yourself out till your tip is the only thing left, and thrust it back in. You set a steady pace, thrusting deep, fucking Hayoung missionary on the island as you grip her waist tight.
“God fuck—” Hayoung moans as she loses her balance, her back falling onto the cold marble of the island. Her back arches into a deep semi-circle as you fuck your cock into her, and she wraps her legs around you, pulling you closer, deeper.
“Fill me,” she begs. “Give it to me. Make me yours. Make our baby tonight… please…”
You lean forward and pull her upwards again, grunting as you thrust deep into her over and over again, sheathing your cock in and out repeatedly. You kiss her tears, her mouth, thrusting harder, faster, chasing the edge together. Hayoung's moans turn into sobs — not sad, but overwhelmed, like everything she’s carrying is finally spilling out.
“I want it so bad,” she gasps between your thrusts. “I want your baby inside me. I want to feel you cum in me… deep… until I’m full… until I’m pregnant with our child…”
“I want it too.” You growl, staring into her glassy eyes as you fuck her harder and faster. She's impossibly wet as you continuously drive yourself in and out of her wet heat, the rationality of your mind blurring to only one goal — to breed. “I never wanted to not have a child. I’ve always wanted to start a family with you… I want to carry our child.”
“Then cum in me. I don't care if we're not at 50%...” Hayoung cries, “We’ll figure it out. Like we always do. Right?”
You drive into her one last time, groaning her name as you spill into her with deep pulses, filling her while she shudders around you. She pulls you into her soft breasts and cries out in bliss as she cums hard. Her walls clenches around you erratically, refusing to let you go as you continue to thrust into her.
Your thrusts slow into a stop as you both ride out your orgasms, and you collapse onto her, both a sweaty, gasping mess.
You stay inside her, breathing together, until she whispers, “Don’t pull out yet.”
You don't.
You slide your arms underneath her thighs and lift her — still joined — and carry her to the laundry room.
The washing machine display is sleek, silver, humming faintly in demo mode. You set her on the edge, legs dangling, and thrust again. The machine vibrates under her, sending shocks into her and she gasps, head falling back.
“When we have one,” she pants, “you’ll fuck me like this… all the time… while it shakes us both…”
You grip her hips, driving deep. “I’ll fill you every time,” you growl. “Every load. Until you’re pregnant. Until we have our family.”
She loses her composure from the added sensations, and slides downwards, one of her legs now rooted onto the ground for support.
The intense vibration of the washing machine sends tremors through Hayoung’s tight body into your core, sending shocks and tingles to every nerve of your cock as you piston into her.
“It’s—too much—” Hayoung cries, her body shivering and trembling with pleasure. “You’re so full—so deep—in me—I can feel—your dick—shaking and rubbing—against my pussy—”
“You feel so good baby. Your insides, they're so tight, so hot… I feel like I’m melting inside of you,” you moan, shuddering at the intense heat. You look at her as she crumbles in your arms, so vulnerable, yet so precious. You want to give the world to her, and you do, switching up the pace.
You pull out fully, rubbing your tip on her fluttering folds and Hayoung sobs. “W-why did you take out… more please… more…”
You stay silent, and your only reply is a deep, slow thrust. All the way to the hilt. You stay fully embedded in her, moving your hands down to press against the bulge on her waist that’s formed from your dick. Pressing on it firmly, you rub and push in small circular bursts.
“Baby w-what is this feeling, it-it feels so good,” Hayoung shakes and moans, her hands desperately reaching down cup against yours. She shakes your hand faster, grinding and rubbing your palm against the bulge harder, moaning and crying even louder.
“I-I it feels so good—I’m gonna fucking—fuck fuck fuck—cum—”
The combined vibration from the washing machine and the rubbing sends her over the edge. Hayoung shrieks as she cums again, crying out loud as she clenches around you. Her hands and body freezes, but you don't stop rubbing — you rub against the bulge even faster, your hands a blur. Her juices flood and soak your groin as she squeezes around your cock rhythmically, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she rides out her orgasm.
You don't wait for her to recover. Still buried deep within her soaked warmth, you lift her again and carry her to the living room blueprint.
“Don’t stop,” she begs, each step you take prodding her sensitive walls. “Keep your cum deep inside of me.”
The big gray sectional sofa waits, plush and deep. You sit slowly, never breaking contact, letting her settle fully onto you. Hayoung’s thighs tremble around your hips as she straddles you, her knees sinking into the soft and plush cushions. She’s still shaking from the previous orgasms, still slick and full, but her eyes burn with something fiercer now.
She starts moving with slow rolls of her hips at first, grinding down hard enough to make you groan. Her hands brace on your shoulders as she finds a rhythm.
“I want to feel you everywhere,” she whispers, voice cracking. “Touch me… please… touch all of me. Don’t just love me tonight. Touch me. Breed me. Make me feel it.”
Her words hit like a plea. It’s raw and desperate, born from the pain of the day, the pain from the sense of helplessness. She’s not asking for gentleness anymore; she wants to be taken, claimed, reminded that she’s still here, still wanted, even when everything else feels lost.
You slide your hands up her sides, tracing every curve, every inch of her skin. Your fingers slide across her ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts, then cupping them fully, kneading softly at first, then harder as she moans. You pinch her nipples between thumb and forefinger, rolling them until she arches, gasping.
“Like this?” you murmur.
“More,” she begs, bouncing harder now. Her hips rise and fall in a frantic rhythm as she fucks your cock, taking you deeper with every downward stroke. “Touch me… everywhere… don’t hold back… I need to feel your hands on me… all of me…”
One hand slides down her back, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass, lifting her slightly so you can thrust up harder. The other hand roams across her body, stroking her stomach, pressing against the bulge where you’re buried inside her, rubbing the spot that makes her sob with pleasure.
She rides you desperately, bouncing faster, thighs slapping against yours, breasts jiggling with each drop. Tears stream down her cheeks, mixing with her sweat, but she doesn’t stop. She leans forward, pressing her forehead to yours. “I don’t want to be loved tonight,” she gasps between bounces. “I want to be touched. Filled. Bred. I want you to take me until there’s nothing left but you inside me. Until I can’t think about the money… or Dad… or anything except you breeding me.”
You groan, hands gripping her hips tighter. You lift her up and down now, controlling the pace, using her body like she asked. You slam her down onto your cock over and over. She’s weightless in your hold, your trembling, needy wife that’s riding the edge.
“Take it,” you growl. “Take every inch. I’m breeding you tonight. I’m filling you until you’re overflowing. Until you’re pregnant. Until our child is growing in you.”
“Yes… yes…” she sobs, bouncing harder. “Use me… fuck me like you mean it… make me yours… make me a mother… please… I need it so bad… cum in me… fill me deep… don’t stop…”
You thrust up to meet her every drop, hands lifting her hips faster, harder. The sofa creaks beneath you and the cushions sink under the force. Her moans turn into broken cries.
“I’m close,” she gasps. “I’m so close… touch me… please… touch me everywhere… make me cum on your cock… breed me… please…”
You slide one hand between you, thumb finding her clit, rubbing fast circles.
She shatters with her head thrown back, crying out your name, walls pulsing around you as she cums hard. The clench drags you over the edge and you thrust up one last time, spilling deep with your hot and thick cum, flooding her while she trembles and sobs above you.
She collapses forward, forehead pressed to yours, both of you gasping. You stay inside her, softening slowly, arms wrapped tight around her waist.
Tears drip onto your chest as she whispers, “Don’t pull out yet.”
“Bedroom,” she says against your lips. “Please. One more. Give me all your cum. Only then I can be sure that I’ll get pregnant.”
The king-size display waits with thick gray duvet, pillows stacked high and starry string lights draped over the headboard like a night sky. You lay her down gently, but the need is too strong for gentleness.
You flip her onto her stomach first and fuck your cock into her doggy. She arches her back with her ass up, hands gripping the duvet tight. You thrust from behind, deep and hard, hands on her hips, pulling her back onto you with every thrust.
“Take it,” you grunt. “Take every inch of my cock.”
She pushes back, moaning, tears soaking the pillow. “Yes… yes… breed me… please… fuck me like you mean it… make me pregnant… make me yours…”
You lean over her, chest to her back, one hand sliding under to rub her clit. She cums hard again, walls milking you desperately. You thrust through it, chasing your own release.
You push her pliable body down onto the bed pronebone, and she lies flat on her stomach, legs spread, you covering her completely. You thrust deep, spearing your cock into her depths, grinding against her ass.
“Look at me,” you whisper, turning her face so you can see her eyes. “I love you. We’re doing this. No matter what.”
Tears stream down her cheeks as she nods.
“I love you too,” she gasps. “Cum in me… one last time… fill me… make me full… make our baby… please…” Her walls squeeze tight every time you push in, and even tighter when you pull out. Your cock has become a plug for her pussy, one that stops your seed from flowing out.
You shift again, flipping her onto her back, back to missionary. You fuck into her face-to-face, making eye contact as her legs wraps around your waist. You thrust slow, deep, savoring every inch.
“You’re mine,” you say with a hoarse and rough voice. “Forever. I’m going to cum in you until you’re dripping. Until you’re pregnant. Until we have our family.”
She sobs, utterly broken and overwhelmed. She's in pure bliss at the thought of her belly full, full of your cum, full of your seed, full with your eventual child that will grow inside of her.
“Yes… yes… breed me… give it all to me… empty yourself inside me… make me yours… make me a mother… please… I need it so bad…”
You can't hold back any longer. You grab on to shoulders and drive into her, jackhammering your cock into her pussy the fastest you can. Wet squelching sounds and the slapping of your fleshes against each other echoes around the empty showroom. The bed is utterly soaked with both of your sweat, forming deep dark stains that will be marked into the sheets forever, but you don't care.
There's only one thing on your mind, and that is to unload your balls empty into Hayoung's womb, in hopes of giving form to a new life. “I-I'm gonna cum—” you grunt.
“Inside please… give me everything… everything inside of me…” Hayoung sobs frantically.
You drive deep, groaning her name as you cum hard, spilling everything you have left while she clenches around you, crying out in release. She milks you with desperate pulses, drawing out every drop, wringing you dry, until you’re both trembling, spent, and collapsed together.
You stay inside her, softening slowly, arms wrapped tight. She curls into your chest, hand resting on her stomach. It's trembling, hopeful.
“We’ll make it real,” she whispers. “Somehow.”
You kiss her forehead.
“Somehow,” you promise.
Under the starry lights of a pretend bedroom with the world locked outside, you hold each other tight.
The savings board is still back home.
40%.
But tonight, you built something anyway.
***
A few weeks have passed since that night in Blue Prints.
The apartment is the same — thin mattress, multi-purpose dining table, ginger tea boxes on the extra chairs. The savings board on the wall has crept up to 43%. You twist the knob this evening, and the left dial clicks forward, the right falling to 57%. It's not much, but it's something.
A quiet reminder that progress, even slow, is still progress.
Hayoung is at the multi-purpose table, boiling water for tea. The new shoes sit by the door, their laces neatly tied. They still look almost new — she gives extra care and attention to it, taking care not to soil her favourite sky blue colour — and she flexes her toes in them sometimes.
You watch her from the mattress, phone in hand with another house tour paused on the screen. She brings two mugs over, handing you one, then curls into your side. Her head rests on your shoulder.
“I added one more percent today,” you say.
She glances at the board, then back at you. “One percent,” she echoes, smiling small. “It’s still moving.”
She sips her tea and sets it down. Her hand drifts to her stomach. She doesn't say anything about tracking cycles or tests; she just rests her palm there, like she's holding space for the possibility.
You cover her hand with yours.
“Remember the night we lost the money?” you ask quietly. “You cried in the shower. I thought you’d break.”
She nods. “I thought I’d ruined everything. The win. The dream. Us.”
You squeeze her hand. “You didn't ruin anything. You saved your dad. And we’re still here.”
She turns her face into your neck, breathing you in. “I still think about the onesie in the drawer sometimes. And the crib we imagined. And the kitchen where I’d make baby food.”
“We’ll get there. One percent at a time.”
She lifts her head, eyes shining. It’s not with tears this time, but with something steadier. Hope, perhaps. Or stubbornness.
You pull her closer, arms around her waist. She nestles against your chest, hand still on her stomach, with yours covering it.
The savings board watches from the wall.
43%.
The blueprints right now may be scattered, but the ones for your futures aren't.
A/N: Happy Isa Day! A “collab” with @ggidolsmuts who approached me with this piece a year ago and hard carried.
Isa belongs on the naughty list, and she knows it.
“Hey, Isa!”
“Happy holidays, babe!” She sinks into your embrace. Isa’s lips are cool against yours—brief, sweet, with a hint of gingerbread lip balm she’s testing for the holidays—before she pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. Work commitments meant the two of you had to spend the holidays apart, and only now do you finally get to hold her again.
“I missed you,” she says, and you can tell how much she means it the way her hug nearly suffocates you.
“Me too.” You tighten your arms around her waist, bringing her closer, feeling every little crevice of Isa’s warm, sensual body. You definitely miss all of this.
“Did Santa get me anything this year?” And without missing a beat, there’s that playful Isa, the kind of playfulness that gets you kicked out of places you have no business being.
The kind of hour where the air feels too still, where even the streetlights outside look half-asleep. The TV's been mumbling nonsense in the background for god knows how long. Your eyelids feel heavy, your brain even heavier. Seriously, you should’ve been asleep by now.
So when the buzzer echoes through your small apartment, it takes you a second to realise it wasn't coming from the TV. You rubbed your eyes and pushed yourself up, half expecting it to be a delivery mix-up or maybe some drunk neighbour pressing the wrong button.
But when you open the door, it's her. Seo Dahyun. Soda.
Hood pulled low, strands of hair clinging to her cheeks, her eyes red not from sleep, but something else. She's clutching her phone so tight her knuckles are pale, the other just hangs limply by her side.
She doesn't say a word. Just standing there, chest rising and falling in uneven bursts as if she just rushed to here (she did, you found out later), and her lips trembling like she's still deciding whether to speak or not.
"Soda?" you murmur her nickname, voice still thick with sleep. "What are you-"
"He broke up with me."
It's quiet. Flat. Like she had recited the news to herself, as nonchalant than it should’ve been. But she couldn't hide the crack in her tone, enough to give her away. You’ve known her since middle school.
“Who?”
“Who else?”
You blink once. Twice. The sentence sinks in like a slow burn like your consciousness back to life.
Then you step aside. "Get in."
She doesn't hesitate. Dahyun walked past you without meeting your eyes, the faint smell of rain and the scent that is undoubtedly hers following her in. She kicks off her shoes with a dull thud (one of them landing sideways) and drops her phone onto the couch before collapsing beside it, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around your huge Snorlax plushie like she's trying to squeeze the ache out of her chest.
You would've snatched a photo already if the air wasn't so suffocating.
Instead, you close the door behind her. The click sounds far too …final.
For a while, neither of you says anything. The TV in the background was still mumbling nonsense, but it did fill up the silence with half-hearted laughter. It felt almost wrong to even keep it on, like the world outside didn't get the memo that your best friend was just trying to keep every piece of her from falling apart.
You move toward her slowly, scratching the back of your neck. "…want some soda?"
She shook her head (she would've laughed at that by this point, you knew she loved that joke). Her eyes stay fixed on the floor, seemingly distant.
"He said that it doesn't work."
"What does that even mean? What doesn't work."
"That I'm…too much, apparently. Too clingy."
Her voice breaks on the last word. Small. Bitter. Feels like she's trying to turn the pain into sarcasm (just like you. Wow, best friend certified.) and failing miserably.
You dropped onto the spot next to her on the couch, being extra careful of every single movement. "Too much? Too clingy? How? You're the most empathetic girl in the world."
She lets out a dry laugh. "Can you believe that? Too clingy. Like caring is not allowed now. What the fuck."
You finally take a proper look at Dahyun. She tried so hard to stay composed, trying to joke about it away as usual, the way she always does when she's hurt. But her eyes couldn't hide it this time. There was this deep, hollow sadness sitting behind them, the kind that comes from being made to feel like her utmost love was too heavy for someone to carry.
She exhales shakily, her shoulders rise and fall in slow, uneven waves. "It's stupid, right? It's the same shit every time. I care too much, I ask too many questions, I…I text first too often. It's like —" She presses her palm to her mouth, her breathing shaky, and her voice clearly cracking, "-- It's like I'm not allowed to love people unless I pretend not to care about them."
Her words hang heavy in the air. You can hear, no, FEEL the frustration behind them. The anger that bottled up when you're tired of being gentle, tired of being told you're too much for people who don't know how to appreciate it.
It took you a full minute to find what barely was the right word to comfort her. "Soda…you just gave your time and heart to someone who didn't deserve it."
She didn't move for a second. Just stares down at her hands, the fingers picking at the hem of her sleeve. And then, without looking up, she whispers, "Then why does it keep happening to me?"
You wanted to answer, but nothing managed to come out of your throat. "I–-"
"You wouldn't understand anyway." She turned her head slowly, like the motion itself is a betrayal. The Snorlax plushie slips from her arms and lands face-down on the floor with a soft, defeated thump.
"Soda—"
"You don't understand!" The words rip out of her, jagged and raw. "You've never been the one left behind like this!"
You flinched. Not from the volume (though it's the first time you've ever heard her raise it), but from the venom oozing out of it. Seo Dahyun, who once apologised to a chair she bumped into, is screaming at you, her best friend. And she’s up, pacing the narrow strip of floor between the couch and the coffee table. Bare feet slap the rug, then the cold tile, then the rug again. Her hoodie’s zipper is half-down, revealing the thin strap of a tank top underneath, damp from the rain. Wet strands of her hair stick to her cheek in the dark.
"You always act like you have your life all figured out."
"Soda, I don't have my life figure—"
"Like you are so fucking calm. Like nothing ever hurt you!”
“Soda, listen to me—”
“I hate it! I hate how your life is just stable and quiet, while mine is in fucking shamble!"
The accusation hangs in the air, unfair and sharp. You don't move. You can't move. Your hands stay open on your thighs, palms up, like you are offering something she doesn't want. You know she's not yelling at you. It's the ghost of every single exes who told her she was too much, too needy. The echo of her own voice, telling her she's wrong.
Then she stops in front of you, chest heaving. Her eyes are glassy, red-rimmed, but the tears haven't fallen yet.
"I just—" Her voice cracks again, but smaller now. "I just need to feel something else. Anything else."
Her hands are on your shirt before you can answer, fisting the fabric, and tugging you forward. It wasn't gentle, and it certainly wasn't asking. You just lift your arms and let her yank your shirt off, the fabric catching on your ears for a second before it's gone. She tossed it aside absentmindedly, and couldn't give a damn where it landed.
Her hoodies then followed, fully zipped down in one motion. It puddles on the floor like shed skin. She's in a thin white tank now, her perky nipples visible through the damp fabric, and you try so hard not to stare. You tried to stay within the line, but she already threw it when she climbed onto your lap, knees bracketing your hips, her thighs trembling.
"Soda" You say, with utmost care. "Hey, Soda, listen to me—"
"Shut up." She whispers, but it's more like pleading than demanding. "Just, don't talk for a second, okay?"
Her fingers fumble with your belt, metal clinking too loud for comfort in the quiet space. She gets it undone, shoves your jeans and boxer down just enough. And then her own short. Then her underwear. She rises up on her knees, one hand braced on your shoulder, and the other guiding your exposed member to her entrance. She's wet already (unsure how, but you didn't dare to question), and her breath hitched as your head brushed her folds.
"Tell me you want this…" She whispers, eyes locked on yours. "Tell me you want me. Please."
"Fuck…" You groaned. You should've stopped her. Should've calmed her down, but what came out was: "I always do, Soda."
With the approval, she sinks down in one slow, deliberate slide, taking you to the hilt. The sound she made was half-sob, half-relief. Her head falls back, throat exposed, and you watch all the reliefs pouring out through her tears, tracking down her cheeks and dripping down onto your bare chest.
"Gosh…" she panted, her hips rolling in a circle, grinding down like she's trying to memorise the shape of you in her. "You - mmph, you feel so good…"
She then starts moving, her hips rolling in tight circles and grind down like she's trying so fucking hard to erase the bad memory away. Her breath hitches every time she bottoms out, a small and wounded sound that makes your heart ache.
"Tell me.." Her voice trembled. "Tell me I'm not too much, you idiot. "
You swallowed hard. "You're not. Soda. Never."
She makes a broken sound and kisses you. Messy, desperate, teeth clacking. Her tongue slides against yours, tasting like salt and rain and something very her. She pulled off the kiss and rested her forehead against yours. Her hand slides up to your chest, nails grazing your skin. It does hurt, yes, but it was still light, careful, like she's afraid to leave deep marks. Afraid to ruin you. Afraid to ruin what you both have.
"Say it again. Please." She pleaded. "I'm not too much."
"You're not too much." You repeated, rougher this time. "You're…more than they deserved."
Her pace quickens, hips snapping harder and slamming down harder, but there's still hesitation in it, like every thrust is still a question. The couch creaks beneath you. The TV is still on, running some nonsense infomercial. It's absurd. It's obscene. It's just enough.
"Harder," She whispers, "Yes, fuc- yes~" and you weren't sure if she meant you or herself. You slide your hands to her waist and her back, just holding there and letting her take what she needs. She rides you like she's trying to outrun the pain, but her eyes kept flicking to yours.
She leans back to your touch, and you watch her. Tank top riding up, breasts bouncing with every roll of her hips, the slick slide of her pussy taking you again and again.
"Am I...hurting you?" She whispered.
"Not at all." You panted. "You're doing fine."
She bites her lip, nods (good that she is still responding well, that's the Seo Dahyun you know), and moves again. Faster. Rougher. But her hands stay gentle, her fingers splayed across your chest like she's anchoring herself. Or relying on the anchor that is you.
"I don't want to be mean…" She moaned, almost to herself. "I just…I just want—"
"I know…" You smiled. "I got you. Do you feel good?”
" Yeah, fuck…you feel so good in me." She looked at you, her glassy eyes were on the verge of shattering. "You'll,,, stay with me like always…right?"
"Of course." Without hesitation. Without missing a single beat. "I'm always here for you."
And then she breaks. Sobs. A real one. It was raw, guttural, like she was finally being allowed to let it out. Her face crumples, forehead pressed to your neck, and the tears come hot and fast. You feel her clench around you. You don't think because it was deliberate, but it was just reflex from all the emotions, her thighs trembling violently as the wave hits.
Her fingers dig deeper into your shoulders. Just holding you tightly like you're the only thing left in her world. "I'm sorry," she chokes out between sobs, voice muffled against you. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I’m sorry—"
You don't want to answer with words (Not the thing she wanted to hear at this moment. You can read her more than enough times). Your arms around her tightened even more, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading through her damp hair. She's shaking so hard. So fragile. So small. Yet she still moved her hips in tiny, involuntary jerks, chasing the last of it even as she fell apart.
And then, the orgasm crashes through her. Her whole body locks up, back arching, a mantra of "fuck" and "I'm coming" tearing out of her throat as she let herself go. Hard, messy, tears and snot and sweat mixing on your skin. (It was a pain to clean it off, but that's not important right now.)
"Let it out." You whispered. "I got you, Soda. Do it for me."
And she did. Hard. With a broken cry that was half your name, half a curse. You feel it the way she pulses around you, the way her breath stutters as she begged you to hold her tight and not let go, and the way her nails dug half-moons into your flesh before going slack. It was too much for you to hold back, and you followed soon after. All the built up spilled into her with a low, helpless groan. Your hips jerked up once, twice, before stilling.
She doesn't pull away.
Just collapse fully, her weight grounding you both. Just the warmth from the heated session and the bond between you two.
"I…didn't hurt you, did I?" Her tone too careful. Too fragile.
You shake your head. "You bonking me accidentally with a metal bat last week hurts more."
“Damn you…” That finally brings out a weak chuckle out of her. "I just…I just… didn't know how to be angry without breaking something."
"It's fine." You smiled. "You’re not breaking anything.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. You're still here. And I'm still here for you."
She exhales into your skin, shaky but light. The silence stretched, but it was comfortable.
And then, the TV cuts to a commercial for a blender. Hearing the rambling, Dahyun snorts, "We're literally fucking to the sound of a NutriBullet ad."
You soon followed with an airy laugh. "Don’t point that out, Soda, damn it."
She shifts, still on your lap, and winces. "Damn you, I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow."
"Well, it's your fault for riding too hard, Soda. I get it, I'm too irresistable."
She smacks your chest lightly, cheeks flushing. "Shut up…I was just processing."
"Mhm…hope that was a great processing time you had."
"Stop teasing me, damn it." She pinched your shoulder, forcing a groan out of you. "You didn't exactly complain."
"Why would I?" You brush a strand of hair from her face, tuck it behind her ear. “Hey.”
She hummed.
“You want that soda now?”
She let out another snort before she looked up to you with the smile you adored so much. Small, tired, real. Undeniably hers. “Diet Coke. With ice. And a straw.”
You sighed, a grin managed to escape. “Tsk. So bossy.”
“Deal with it, idiot.”
But she doesn’t move to get off you yet. Not yet. Just stay there, and breathe with you.
a/n: this may or may not have been written because her birthday was weeks ago, but I just decided to finally write a fic for soda. I know lots have already been written here, and well-deserved 'cause they're bangers and she's such an underrated gem in general, but this one is just a short read. hope you enjoy!
Aside from moments of peer pressure during certain occasions, you never loved alcohol. You owed it to your grandfather who indirectly warned you through his fatal habits. The sight of it alone near you made you quiver. Maybe you’re simply a wuss or your instincts were just telling you they're bad news. You’re glad this night has led you to a café, as if it was anything new, rather than bars or clubs where your closest colleagues often headed.
Unlike them, you weren’t interested in rushing into things. You wanted to “slow down,” not dance and sleep around with strangers. Not even the more digital aspect of dating culture, which your own “MZ generation” had propagated, was something you could catch up on for so long.
Maybe you were just that overromantic for hook-up culture.
Besides, the magic of caffeine often prevents you from closing your eyes until you have gotten a task done. Your peers and relatives called it an addiction in the making, but it felt more like something in between a vice and a blessing. Caffeine helped you get the highest promotions and best pay you never thought or considered was ever possible to attain within five years, yet it also made you lose days and nights of sleep, among other personal things that you tried to hold together amidst the pace of your professional life.
You tried to brush your missteps and missed chances, believing most of your sacrifices, intentional or not, have been worth it. That was until you met her tonight, turning your back as your eyes met her in line after you finished paying for your order on the kiosk. She was in a classy dark blue jacket over her long sleeve shirt, and a knee length office skirt, making you assume she also left work, much like you had, at the start of this year.
“Jamsimanyo… Jeong Jinho-ssi?” You would have never expected your name to be called by someone outside of either work or family gatherings. “Did I get your name right?” But it just sounded good to hear from this person, whom you haven’t seen in more than five years. Her mesmerizing eyes, her approachable cadence. You couldn’t forget all her striking traits. Quite a sight for sore eyes.
If it was anyone else, you probably would’ve stuttered or prolonged one ecstatic holler to hide the fact that you’ve forgotten their name. And yet, your mind felt a spark that made you mutter her name without a sense of hesitation of getting it wrong. “Seo Dahyun-ssi.” Hearing her name from your mouth brought a wider smile forming on her lips.
Dahyun was just an old classmate of yours back in university. You had a couple of group projects together, but that was it. Everything else you know about the woman came from sprinkles scattered by your friends. She’s about a year younger than you, and was mostly active with the singers’ club while also spending time with her own clique of friends. You even heard that she was using the campus gym to work out outside classes or spar with her acquainted athletes. Whatever that meant, you didn't bother to know. Overall, you remembered her as this kind, smart, pretty, and approachable woman, without a doubt, but you knew you weren’t the only one with that observation about her. The only reason you didn’t consider asking her out was because your heart was beating, aching even, for someone else. You looked back at where that got you back then, but you shook your head.
Like any other chance encounter or small reunion you’ve had with an old acquaintance. The funny thing was, something made you share the same table. You didn’t know much about her before this meeting. She was a junior H.R. manager, immediately giving you an idea of her capability, her mastery to make someone feel comfortable by being attentive to your words. You expected your interaction to be somewhat forced for reunion’s sake. However, by the end of the night, she was just being herself since you first shared some snippets of your whereabouts after entering the world of adulting.
Throughout the rest of the night, it still surprised you until now how you managed to hit it off. From what seemed like an interview of subjects tackling how you had been or what you’re up to, things smoothened into a warm and close series of conversations outside of work. You laughed when either of you made a joke, you opened up when something’s relevant. She had her birthday last week, while you got a promotion.
“Oh, really?” Your eyes lit up, a welcoming surge of interest and a pinch of enthusiasm struck you. “Saengil chukhahaeyo!”
“Gomawoyo,” she gave a subtle bow while letting out a giggly chuckle before taking a sip of her large glass of colorful fruit soda. An interesting drink for winter, but you assumed it tasted good. Either she made it look good, or you’re just that easy to find an attractive trait in a person.
“It must've been nice, then…” Your platter of salad was already empty, but so was your stomach. “You got to celebrate two times this month.” So was Dahyun’s plate of pasta, and it seemed like she was still holding onto her fork, reaching where food used to be.
“That would’ve been the case, but I didn’t get to spend New Year’s,” she admitted with a sigh before shrugging her shoulders. “But hey, we have seollal for next month… That's a three-day guaranteed break, right?”
You felt the sense of comfort in her optimism, your nape also felt an itch. “That’s true…” You slowly scratched it following where her gaze was going back and forth. “But, umm, I think they still have a couple of slices of cake available. Do you want to have some?”
She began waving her hands out of politely declining you, even though you noticed her stealing glances at the pastry counter for minutes now. You thought she was cute, but some slight guilt made you realize her appetite was far from fulfilled. “Ahhhh, aniyo, Jinho-ssi! Gwenchana—” Even though her first reaction was denial.
“Please, it's okay,” you assure her with a softer delivery after standing from your seat. “It’s the least I can do, Dahyun-ssi…”
The woman composed herself, realizing you were right. “Well, umm… Now that you’ve suggested it, sure, I’d like one…” Leaving your belongings strapped to your chairs, she accompanied you to the counter. “But you better get one for yourself, too,” she added. She didn’t want to be treated like some royalty or a sunbae always being treated by her hoobaes because they needed to gain points from her after simply helping out with their recruitment. After all, she already had enough of those at work.
“Oh, I’m way ahead of you,” you chuckled, unabashed about your ‘foodaholic’ habit. “I, uhh, I’m just feeling bad I didn’t notice you wanted to order something, but I rambl—”
“Don’t be!” Her tone almost sharpened, showing an ounce of guilt she had also been hiding for hours now. “I’m the one who kept on yapping while you had to listen. I mean, it must’ve taken you longer to finish your plate ‘cause we were talking the whole time.”
You almost didn’t notice you both were in the same situation. You didn’t keep each other as hostages. This wasn’t some inescapable pit you got stuck on. You who just had a long series of unfiltered and welcoming talks, plain and simple. Her response only made you smile, exhaling through your nose in amusement, before telling her, “Honestly, I didn’t mind it, so no worries.”
“Oh,” she was caught off-guard by your nonchalance, her frantic self slowly subsiding. “Me neither…” With your attention immediately darting back to the counter, her smile slowly overtook her frown, with her hands behind her back, as soon as you chose your slice of cake. You had a basic coffee cake, while she had cookies and cream.
Tonight, you might as well have called it a date since you ate and drank on the same table, but you weren’t gonna get ahead of yourself. You did your best balancing your gaze between your environment and her eyes, but you couldn't help but keep going back to steal a glance at her. Luckily for you, she couldn’t take her attention away from you either. Neither of you looked at your phones. She was comfortable enough to open up about how she missed some of her friends who are now abroad and how she missed performing on campus, and so you did the same, sprinkling your own sentiments and hopeful assurances with open ears.
From her point of view, it seemed like tonight turned the tables, how she was the one being listened to. Eventually, you’ve reached the part where you confided in each other’s way of dealing with looming loneliness as people who rarely found the time to commit to anything for so long, how that feeling never truly went away unless you slaved away to your work or as simple as finding companionship with colleagues you can trust.
Of course, the clock had reached twelve-thirty. When it came to your orders, you’ve both had your fill. At the same time, the manager informed you she was closing. However, Dahyun couldn’t bring herself to tell you she was going home, nor could you leave her side. You could only feel thankful there was no sense of discomfort between you. Even the chilly breeze was complementary to the warmth slowly boiling within your bodies, followed by the bubbles of enticement that kept you within a two to four feet of distance.
Her home was three train stations away, but somehow the cold itch in your throat made you push you into inviting her into your place. Unbeknownst to her, asking the question itself made you shiver from your spine into the rest of your body, awaiting her answer like she was a superior, or more appropriately, an H.R. manager that she is, you were reporting to. Hearing you audibly clear your throat, Dahyun let out a soft chuckle. Flattery or mockery would be your initial interpretation, but her smile proved you wrong. With her smile and simple answer, she found your invitation appreciative. “Sure…” Your eyes widened, making you realize you weren’t the only one feeling something more between you two. It wasn’t a tone of “Sure, what the hell, why not?”, rather it was more out of anticipation and curiosity towards your sudden invitation.
You reached your apartment after a seven-minute commute. You tried to make her feel at home, even though you’ve already tidied up the place thanks to your recent habit, by offering her an unopened bottle from your shelf. But she got up from the couch and walked to you next to the kitchen counter, inciting a gulp from your throat, followed by a shiver speeding down your spine. Being paralyzed by her beauty approaching, you stood in place until you’re only two feet away from each other, as she started to ask you of your intentions in a coquettish cadence. “I thought you didn’t like to drink…”
You weren’t nervous, but you were bracing yourself for the possibility of a rejection, even in your own apartment. “I don’t, but I wouldn’t mind if it’s with a guest…”
“Really?” she lightened up, taking another step closer. She’s breathtaking, he thought. “And how often do you bring guests here?”
“Not that often… I’m not that kind of a guy,” you played it cool, pledging with a hand.
Dahyun shook her head with a flustered grin. “I’m not saying you are… Just… curious.”
“Well… It's just a suggestion. Only if you’d like to,” you added. “It was chilly outside, so why not just make the mood of the place feel a little warmer and cozier, you know?”
“That’s sweet…” Only inches away from you, she leaned her face closer to yours. The scent of her meal and drink emanated from her hot breath, but her perfume started lingering on your nostrils. Your scents began to act like magnets, pulling you more. Dahyun tilted her head. “But… Who says this isn’t already warm and cozy for me?”
How could you decline such advances? Even if you could, why would you? You could only mumble out “You tell me…” as her eyes leveled with yours. Letting out a heavy breath, Dahyun let out a sultry chuckle before your lips clashed against each other, embracing the build-up of hormones from the root of your attraction throughout the whole night. Thank goodness you didn’t reach into the overhead cabinet in time.
In the next ten minutes, you locked lips with each other to taste your own drinks and desserts. Prior to your later celebratory cakes, you drank caramel macchiato with a side of their best seller salad, while she had a large fruit soda with a plate of spicy alfredo pasta with a small bag of potato chips, peculiar yet refreshing orders that sparked your interest towards her, which was another interest you only considered back in the day, when you didn’t have to think about filing reports and evaluating dozens of presentations almost every week. The accumulation of your palates was intoxicating, it would be ridiculous to compare it to making out to the taste of alcohol, yet that’s where your mind went. Under the pale moonlight, you only had one goal, and that was to make her feel good with everything you’ve got. Tonight, you didn’t feel like downing a whole large cup of coffee was even a burden for you.
As you made out longer, you began unbuttoning each other, dropping and tossing each layer of cloth you had on the floor like a mix until you finally arrived at your room. You had nothing but your averagely fit triangle torso along with your cock already bulging through your grey underwear, while she flaunted her striking red bra and office skirt, leaving your mouth drooling as you breathed and stared at her with libidinal delight. She chuckled at your stunned state, but her appreciation gave her the initiative to cup your face and latch onto your lips once again for as long as your breaths could handle the absence of air while dancing through the waves of saliva. In your closed eyes, you felt her mounds colliding with your chest, while hands slid down to her curves, from her waist, down to her hips, until you reached one of the plumpest things you’ve ever touched, that being both her ass cheeks. A slow, satisfying squeeze made Dahyun break your kiss to gasp with a chuckle. “You’re bad, aren’t you?” she teased with alluring eyes.
“Mianhaeyo… I couldn’t help—” you tried to tell her, just before she pulled you back in.
You wanted to keep kissing her while feeling her curves, but you've already explored almost every corner of her delicate skin, from her lips down to her collarbone, having already done five reps while you heard her moans of praise. Taking things to the next step, you broke your steamy session and made her sit down on the edge of your bed. “I can’t let the guest feel disappointed,” you whispered, deepening your voice as your breath made Dahyun bite her lower lip with carnal anticipation, burning faster and stronger. “I hope not,” the woman shot back, giving her the moment to unbutton her skirt, letting it fall on the floor and her red panties with it, a little tease for you to get hard at. You leaned down and knelt closer between her legs, feeling its silky smoothness in your palms while they slid down from her thighs to her knees. The woman heaved a gravelly giggle.
Adjusting your knees, you began your performance for Dahyun, digging your slightly opened mouth on her moist cunt. Much like the lips on her mouth, they are just as scrumptious and appetizing to lock your lips and play your tongue with. You rarely touch sweets for the sake of your own sugar levels, but if this was one way for you to taste a sweet and tangy substitute to honey or maple, then you certainly wouldn’t mind eating her out if she pleases. In addition to your lips and tongue, even added three of your fingers, deploying them into her clit, inner labia, and entrance as they rubbed on, triggering a long, ethereal gasp from Dahyun while she could feel her trimmed forest getting moistened by your tongue.
“Auuuuummmgggghhh… Baby, fuck!” Her hands around your shoulders crawled to your neck, tightening her grip on you, not just from her hands but her legs between you. The caffeine flowing through your veins kept your hands and mouth moving, sloppily kissing and fingering her vulva at an increasing pace, faster than you would move with a calculator or your keyboard. Until she or her body begged you to stop, you didn’t, challenging yourself to heightened her growing layers of stimulation while simply enjoying the fact that you’re eating her out. Dahyun’s moans leveled with the pleasure she was receiving from your mouth, and having lost your sense in time, you didn’t catch her squirting to the tune of her orgasm. Her juices gushed right in front of your face, most latching onto your chin and lower cheek.
You rested right next to her, mirroring the rhythm of her much heavier breath. “How’d I do, Dahyun-ie?” you mumbled in a somewhat proud and satisfied tone, although in your defense, it was not easy getting good at something you had rarely done as a single soul. Her recuperating breath already told you her instinctive feedback to your performance, but you’re one who always asks a little further just to be sure of something, of anything.
“Just call me Soda,” she corrected you. “And you’re really, really good, but…” She held onto your shoulder, giving light a few taps before leaning into your ear and whispering, “It’s the guest’s turn to make the host feel at home, don’t you think?” Feeling a surge of shivers on your spine, her hand was already stroking your hardening cock, but it was time she finally got up from the bed and slid down to meet it, kneeling on the carpeted floor. Seeing your cock only inches away from her lips made her titter while biting her lower lip. “Hello…” she purred, wrapping her palm around your stick like a carrot and giving it a slow, tight squeeze that made you squirm with glee. It was just her test run.
Your neck slowly arched backwards, listening as your kisses on your shaft slowly grew into licks and slurps. Her soft, plump lips started on your balls, which you’ve recently shaved last month because of some trend you’ve been following for years now. “Fuck, Soda-yah… That’s… So… Refreshingggghhh… Oh, God…” Your legs started shaking at the sensation of her tongue and lips on your manhood, making sure she had most of it coated in her saliva. Within a couple of minutes, she took her time while your toes were anchored on the carpet below. You were about to look down to steal a glance at Dahyun, only to feel an electrifying rush of pleasure flowing from your manhood throughout the rest of your body. Inching closer, she started taking you in her mouth, with you feeling her soft and moist hole clenching and loosening until your tip has reached her throat. Worry began to crawl up to you, but you heard little to no discomfort from her mouth. Every ounce of doubt you had begun to drop the second she started bobbing up and down, producing a melodic slurping sound that grew with every second. From your perspective, you just reached the chorus of her performance, the first of the night.
Dahyun’s rapid and nonstop bobbing like a popsicle stick made you howl and growl from the top of your longs, but the uppermost limit of your vigor finally let you free, bursting your semen straight into her face. Within only five minutes, this Soda made you pop. While wiping splotches of semen off of her face, her smile didn’t fade, much like your cock stayed erected for her. It was a bit of a disappointment for you, however, believing your endurance had worn thin. Maybe the caffeine in your system made you a little more jittery than usual. Maybe you needed a little more practice, considering your last relationship or last encounter with anyone, which was quite a while ago. Whatever the case is, you couldn’t blame her for sucking you that fast. She’s just that good, even that phrase itself is an understatement.
“I’m sorry if I was too quick,” you groaned weakly. “Fuck, you’re really a pro at this.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows and giggled with appreciation at your rapid nods. “Gomawoyo… But, umm, don’t worry, Jinho-ssi...” She started to pepper kisses on your sweaty cheeks while he respired with his simmering bliss. “I did that on purpose.”
“You did what on purpose?” You scratched your shaggy hair, clawing through it. Your brain was still quite dense and foggy after her exemplary service. She caressed your hair.
“I sped it up more than I usually do,” she heaved with a proud, much wider grin.
“Really?” you cackled in disbelief, letting a wave of relief wash over your stained pride. Your male ego wasn’t damaged as you thought it would be, like it even mattered. After all, you just wanted a good time together.
“Mmm-hmm…” She nodded, crawling closer to your face. Her fingers fiddled around your tip. “Still… As much as I loved playing with this fella…” Unable to control your primal excitement, you felt it standing up within seconds just as she suggested to you, “I believe it’s time it goes into another hole.”
You nodded at her with a quick grunt, and sitting on the bed at the same time in front of each other, you both aligned your own genitals with each other, speeding up the process with some ease. But, of course, things had to slow down as you inched closer and closer, gently and continuously giving your cock a push while her walls clenched around it. The deeper you reached, the louder Dahyun’s cries of lust got, and it was only during your entry to her warm chambers. The process became slow and intimate, her mind only thought she could get used to this kind of stretching.
You couldn’t help but dig your chin into her shoulder, attempting to compose yourself through this narrowing sensation. “Goodness,” you chuckled. “You’re so… tight, ugh… Wow, Soda-yah…” It felt like your member was squeezing through a narrow crevice, albeit without the feeling of discomfort or struggle.
Dahyun tightened her arms around his shoulders, almost closing her eyelids in rapture. In her mind, none of her toys came as close to this. None even her exes or old hookups. “Nnnggggghhhh… Maybe you’re just really big, Jinho-yah… Mmmggggaaauuuhhhh…”
You latched your lips onto her neck, kissing and sucking sweat from her as she squealed. “You stroke… people’s ego… that often?” you asked while relishing on her drenched skin.
“Not exactly my job,” she snortled. “I just tell ‘em what’s true… Now’s not any different.”
“Am I your job, then?” This sudden thought itself turned you on more for some reason.
“Aniya… I’m just telling you what you need to hear. You’re doing great so far.”
“Well, that’s because you’re so fucking hot, so there's no lie in that either,” you lauded.
She giggled through her squirms and shivers. Not the first time she’s ever heard such praise, but the heat of your bodies only intensified her own enthusiasm. “Thanks, but ugggghhh, God…” Thankfully, this moment made her lock in with a deep breath, not wanting to be deprived of the ultimate pleasure you had been building up all night. “So are you, nghh,” she wrapped her legs around her waist, letting her cervix kiss your tip. Slightly bending herself backwards, she guided your hands behind her. Thankfully, your intuition followed quickly, offering yourself in unlocking her bra. “Anyways, I’d rather let the results speak for themselves…” Her soft yet sharp tone balanced between what she usually sounds on the desk and on the bed. Seeing her breasts jiggle in front of you only added to your drooling mouth. At least, that’s what you assumed then. “Shall we?”
You nodded your head and quickened the pace of your thrusts. Her nails dug on your skin while keeping her chest tightened with yours, letting herself feel the trembles of your thrusts inside her. Having had enough with the foreplay, your bodies amped up yearning for the arrival of your own climaxes in this final chorus you were both singing. Your tongues danced in a fiery moment. You thought you would have never felt heaven on Earth, at least not like this, not until tonight. Not just this whole wham, bang, shang a lang or whatever that old ass foreign song that was stuck in your head, but simply the fact of crossing paths with this woman after half a decade. Somehow wanting to prove your worth as her partner for tonight, you exerted as much strength into your hips against her while thrusting your cock in and out of her with reckless abandon. You let your mouth lunge at her now bouncing tits, painting her mostly with your saliva, as well as traces of her juices from your face. Dahyun only let out a sharp howl into the ceiling.
She could feel herself losing control over your collective movement as you accelerated your speed within half a minute. The woman was surprised by your swelling strength. “You can slow for a bit. Fuck! You’re, ugh, unbelievable… Hnnggghhhh, Jinho-yah…”
Thankfully, you realized you feral you’ve become for a moment. “Alright… Mianhaeyo.” From your experience, sex should always be about teamwork, as weird as that sounds. It worked before, so you didn’t want it to change now either. You slowed your thrusts for a bit, letting her increase the pace of her hips grinding on yours and catching up with you.
“Gwenchana,” she cupped your cheek, soaking her palm in your sweat while she kept bouncing on your cock. “Just trying to take… all of you… Without… losing… balance.”
“But…” You held your arms around her tightly. “Soda-yah, you’re already doing great…”
With both hands on your head, Dahyun pulled you closer to her breasts. Shame on you for almost forgetting her sweet, sweaty mounds. “So are you, oppa, auuuugggghhhh…” You didn’t hesitate opening your mouth to give each a succulent suck. You wanted to praise her about them, but your body had been mostly in control of this bumpy ride.
You let out a gasp at her call of endearment, followed by a chortle of disbelief. “Hngh?”
“You like being called that, don’t you?” she whispered right next to your ear. Her angelic moans were moving to the rhythm of your thrusts. “Oppaaaaaa-yah, oppaaaugghhh…”
Her seductive teasing had struck multiple nerves, but not in a way that offended you. She was transmitting the levels of pleasure you had been giving her, and it’s working. “Hnnhngghhh… Fuck, Soda-yah. You know your way… Into this!”
She arched her neck upwards, allowing you to nibble on her neck once more. “About to say the same… thing about you.” You kept up with your coordinated pace and rhythm, having increased it together while your mouth did its job to keep her more stimulated.
“Auuuggghhhh, fuck!” She was already feeling it, as were you. “Don’t you dare… Please, hnnggghhh… I’m safe, Jinho-oppa! Just, augh, please, I’m really close, hgggggmmm…” Unable to contain herself for too long, Dahyun’s moans evolved into a glass-shattering scream of stimulation that might as well could pierce through the ceiling and reach the night sky, had you gone stronger than your stamina allowed you.
“Mmmmm…” You bit your lower lip, amused by her shriek. At this time, however, you were also stunned by the build-up in your shaft, you couldn’t force yourself to complete a cohesive sentence, let alone a phrase. Your hips began to decline in pace, as your vigor was on its last few strings, snapping with each powerful thrust. “Mmmm—me… Me too, So…da…yah!” Coffee could only get you this far. It was time for you to let go.
With a surge of her weight, she tightened her grip around you, both arms and legs, and rolled backwards, carrying both her weight and yours. You were still facing each other as your orgasms broke free off your systems. You felt like a boulder, being carried by this woman, but more importantly, she had now taken you to the peak of your pleasure. Your cloud nine. Thankfully, being at the bottom was also the ultimate climax of your partner, her eyes started to roll to the back of her head. While flexing her muscles, you rested your arms between the woman to keep your balance from completely crushing her. And now that a moment of stability was achieved, both your cachopony of moans flowed into a smooth stream of sigh, a verbal response to your final orgasm.
Your minds had gone blank, but your spirits traversed to the farthest paradise they could reach. It was something you were able to physically share as your lust prompted your lips to clash one more time, releasing your remaining hunger through your dancing tongues. In this moment of release, you let your mouth smack as loud as you heaved. Even after you pulled out, your cock was still erect while the last of your cum was dripping on the bed.
Rolling over to the side of the bed, you let out a dry cough, covering your palm with an accomplished smile while Dahyun eased her breathing. Her weightlifting stunt was no joke. A rush of amazement made you inch closer to her. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“Pilates,” she simply answered, before pursing her lips with coyness. There was no way you believed that was the only answer, but you felt wonderment regardless. Curiosity was now flowing back through your brain while you breathed. Intrigue followed.
You stroke her hair, fixing them behind her ear. “Do you have a full course for that?”
She smacked your chest lightly when she bursted in laughter. “Jinho-ssi!”
By now, your heartbeat has returned to normal. “I was just curious,” you jest.
Dahyun’s tone shifted real quick. “Well… If you’re that curious…” Her fingers trailed on your chest. “Would you like to know the basics?” Her mere touch made your cock tingle, and combined with her intoxicating breath drawing close to you, your head made a slow but sure nod that she thankfully read. You placed her fingers on her chin, giving into the reinvigorated desires of your body, starting with your lips making another contact.
Everything that followed were you switching positions, kissing and fucking like rabbits until your burning vigor could no longer fuel your drive to keep on going. Even the stock of caffeine in your system eventually depleted, but at least your breathing slowly calmed minutes after, allowing you and Dahyun to doze off in each other’s arms.
= = =
Saturday. Waking up around ten in the morning, you saw Dahyun dressing up. She greeted you first, you tried to match her vibrance. It was your usual pillow talk. You contemplated the clear weather, slowly segueing into your shy confessions about how you had fun without being too specific. But, while you rarely had any experiences with hook-up culture, the one-night stands in your past tend to end within a paragraph or two, if you got confident enough to see them off or bid them farewell.
But the longer your eyes locked, you could no longer ignore the feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. This woman made your night, more than anyone, including yourself, in the last seven months of your so-so late twenties. Sure, this was not a rapid heartbeat, you already felt that with each other the whole night. But the flutters in your stomach were trying to tell you something about her. About what you truly felt right now.
The least you could do was make her breakfast, if not call her a cab home after. You had nothing to lose. In your mind, you still questioned why she willingly spent the night with you. Maybe she just needed a time off to unwind from her work, but so did you. But, you knew yourself that you didn’t want her to leave just yet, so you shot your shot. Lady luck just happened to be on your side, so you never knew when it would run out. In about a few minutes, she could just simply open the door and wave at you goodbye.
But you didn’t want that to happen, not until you asked her. Especially with your renewed connection last night and the absence of an awkward atmosphere between you right now, you’ve had enough of maybes, it’s time you stopped itching, clearing your throat first just to ask her something. You wiggled to the other side like a worm, letting hands reach your boxers on the floor while she wasn’t looking.
“Hey, Dahyun-ssi?” you murmured, pushing through your hesitation as you wore it.
“Hmmm..?” she hummed while tying up her hair with a rubber band outside your bedroom door. She wasn’t carrying her bag yet, but you presumed the tie came from it.
Even from a distance, her more innocent presence she allured you, making you feel at ease that you kept your composure and could sit down on the edge of the bed. “You…” You took a deep breath, before asking, “Would you mind staying for breakfast?”
She turned around to face you with a soft, yet heartwarming smile, her eyes filled with appreciation. “I’d like that…”
She walked back inside, taking a seat on the other side of the bed once again while folding in the sleeve of her shirt. Her eyes were glistening for your offer. “What will we be having, Jinho-yah?”
“Well, uhh, first things first, do you wanna have a cup of coffee or some fresh juice?”
“I think I’ll be having the coffee…” She didn’t even have to think too long for that, only raising her index finger below her lip in a sense of wonder. “Thank you very much...”
You beamed at her enthusiasm, even though you still had no clue what to cook for her that morning. Yet still, in retrospect, you realized that maybe if it wasn’t for your little change of pace, you most likely wouldn’t have gotten her number, or more importantly, even get a second, third, and far many more chances to see and meet Seo Dahyun again.
= = =
Just wanna ramble a bit here, so you can skip this if you're not interested.
Firstly, when it came to the conceptualization of this one-shot, I originally planned for this to take place in a bar, but I got tired of it since a lot of my previous fics already began there, so yeah, it's now just a café here.
Secondly, the male character was originally a cheater or at least an implied one, which Dahyun would've found out in the morning from her p.o.v., but I also realized she's already been portrayed as someone who slept with characters who were in a relationship, twice, and both happened to be with Xinyu! lol, and no shade to those writers, because they've written really good stuff too. plus, if not for one of them, I wouldn't be writing right now, that being rowlet, who will always be one of my most admired and respected writers here. By the end of the day, it's fiction, though I'd rather just not go the original route since it would be less original and not really my thing.
Thirdly, I know blonde Soda has been the craze of the last four or so months, and now she's back to black hair, but I just chose pics when she was still in her brownish red hair, 'cause that's where I first saw lots of her stunning pics. regardless, she always looks good, whatever hair color she has. just a fact XD.
anyhoo, there will probably be two to three more one-shots after this, but I am not sure who it will be about. I haven't explored much of the community lately aside from the ones I see on my notif, but I'll do my best to catch up after my little writing "spree" this month. thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day. take care and 'til next time!
I was wondering if you have any plans for He, She & Her ? No pressure if not of course ! Thanks
Hellooo, and it's okay, because yesss, I do.
Just a quick yap session:
But I think I've said it before, I didn't expect that much demand for He, She & Her. Still, I really appreciate it because I had fun writing it back then. Although my plans for the third part is meant to be the finale, I wrote extra chapters, each for ChaeYeon & JiWoo, while I come up with something for the last one.
Yes, it will be full of smut, but I still have to deal with the story aspect of it all. That's where I bring the pressure to myself once I finally start writing. I'm doing my best not to make it a “harem fic,” because, well, it's a polyamory. Those three love each other, and I wanna explore how they handle it once the closest people in their lives eventually find out. That's all I can give away for now, 'cause I haven't touched the draft in a long while. I'm still writing one-shots and I'm getting the hang of it in the meantime.
Anyways, thank you very much for reading my works or even just staying tuned. Super appreciate it. Thanks for the ask, have a nice day, and take care!
a/n: hello again! here's the holiday fic I cooked up. yes, it's a bit late than I intended, but I'm just somewhat glad I finally got to write an nmixx fic, feat. one of my biases too. anyways, I hope you enjoy it!
It was the 26th of December, sixteen minutes past midnight. A man and woman exited the house, bowing and being seen off by two people decades older than them. They took the last bus back to their district, spending almost fifteen minutes in silence. This couple could only steal quick glances with one another, waiting for the other’s turn to break the ice once again amidst this cold night. Although she was always used to the man’s seldom silence, his girlfriend was sensing something worrying and disquieting in her boyfriend, who was just sitting next to the window, staring at the passing traffic with a blank look.
“Come on, oppa…” With her hand, Jiwoo slowly rubbed his wrist inside his coat’s sleeve, warming him with trust and comfort. “I know something’s bothering you.” She carefully took his eco bag from his other hand, laying it on the floor below her seat. “You can just spill it out, arasseo?”
“It’s not that I’m bothered…” He tried to lessen his own discomfort in front of her, sneaking a slight nervous chuckle.
“But?” she asked further, her teasing yet concerned smile urging him. It was just the two of them. Being dismissive to this woman has never been an option to him, and vice versa. It’s how they have stayed together for this long. Regardless of how many obstacles the complex and sporadic adulting life has thrown at them in their late twenties, or even if circumstances had pitted them against each other or made them spin around in circles of blame, they have broken through those walls side by side.
Minseong sighed, leaning his head a little away from her while resting his hand with her. “I was just thinking, that was some family dinner, wasn’t it?” he confessed, conflicted by his own reasoning. “Could have been better… But it could have been worse too, I guess.”
“It wasn’t too bad…” Jiwoo answered with a giggle, although she knew what Minseong was feeling, making her slowly rub his palm with her index finger and thumb. Her recollection was fair and hopeful. The food and drinks were scrumptious, although she barely touched the vegetables—unlike him who engorged himself—save for the fried ones, which they both helped make the whole afternoon while she gossiped and laughed with his family. But she had enough clues about what had been bugging him throughout the night. “Don’t be too harsh on your parents, oppa… You know how old folks are. They’re just being ‘them,’ you know?”
Minseong rubbed the hair above his nape. “I’m not. It’s just… I expected them to pry onto you with so many questions. Like machine gun levels of questioning about stuff you’re not even sure about!”
Jiwoo chuckled, shaking her head. A sign of confidence he saw from her when they argued. “I’ve been running my family shop for four years now… I’ve handled actual weirdos, blabbermouths, creeps… The list goes on.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want my own parents to add more on your plate,” he grumbled. “Especially on your day off.”
“They were nothing like our worst customers,” she insisted, her smile widening. “They are far more welcoming than any salesman at the mall these days.”
“Yeah, but that’s because most of them have been taken over by service bots, so I don’t know if that’s a compliment to them or—”
“It is a compliment!” She shook onto his shoulder. “Your parents are like some of the quickest brainstormers I’ve listened to. They’re like emcees!”
Her vivid description made the man scoff with amusement, but he didn’t deny it “Heck, even your siblings are so wholesome with how they spilled their tea at the same time they were helping out with chores, like come on… Hearing all their stories tonight, I think you’re lucky, dare I say even blessed, to have each other.”
“I think so too,” he nodded with gratitude, feeling his own conflict get washed away with relief. “I’m glad you feel that way.” Resting his unoccupied knuckle on his chin, his lips stretched into a pout. “Maybe I just overreacted.”
“You definitely didn’t,” she assured him right as she rested her head on his. “That’s why I was checking on you in the first place... You’re so sensitive, you know that? Even with other people’s worries… But it’s one of your superpowers.”
From anyone he wasn’t familiar with, those words would have come off insulting or degrading, but Jiwoo made it comforting. She had always meant it as a compliment, after all, which made her not only respect, but adore him, considering the fact she herself wasn’t all that different either when it comes to being open and vulnerable than most people.
Minseong lifted her hand with his and kissed her knuckle, caressing her palm with one finger. “That, I won’t deny.” Their eyes locked in intensity. “You softened my heart, after all, babe.”
Feeling her own cheeks warm up more than the rest of her face, Jiwoo closed her eyes and took this chance to give Minseong a tender kiss. Always enticed by her sweet and tender lips, the man deepened their kiss by cupping her left cheek, letting each other profess their love without the concept of time right until their rationales reminded them that they’re in public. Jiwoo giggled as their lips parted. Minseong almost forgot they’re surrounded by other passengers ‘til he inadvertently stole glances with eyes on the row next to them, flashing smiles of adoration and exhaling chuckles of respect.
“Well, I got to spend Christmas with my caring and considerate boyfriend,” Jiwoo cooed. “I got to spend more time with his family, in spite of his thoughts about them… Or how quirky and complex they may seem.” Minseong chuckled at her assessment while also giving his appreciation in his girlfriend’s warm and soft yet playful confession while their hands intertwined. “I mean, who wouldn’t want that on their holiday vacation?”
Inviting Jiwoo with his family over Christmas turned out to be one of the best decisions they made in their relationship. Fearful and risky, but overall mature. Contrary to their pasts, Kim Jiwoo has always been the bravest, most brilliant, and most beautiful woman Minseong had met. Perhaps, it was almost impossible for things to ever go wrong in her favorite season. At least, as her boyfriend, he would always do his best not to let such a misstep happen to begin with.
“You’re right.” With his smile, his tone elevated. “We got to spend a lot more time this month. I can’t a slightly awkward and almost problematic family dinner ruin our own little traditions.”
The woman giggled as she almost exclaimed, “Majayo!” at him with glee. “That’s the spirit.”
Their sweet moment was interrupted by the bus’ comms, informing their arrival right at Dobong-gu. Expecting the hectic season, they expected their road might’ve been filled with other cars, even at this hour. Finding themselves in a situation luckier than most bystanders, this was one of the few moments they actually hoped to get stuck in traffic. Nevertheless, the couple was in agreement, slowing their walk to his place’s entrance. They weren’t just gonna let this midnight end just yet.
“You wanna have ramyeon?” he invited her, looking down at the woman with her flushed cheeks and wide and giggly expectant smile, something that always made him flutter. “Or we can have some of our leftover desserts, if you want.” He slightly raised their eco bag. “If you’re not full yet, I mean.”
“I’d rather have something else,” Jiwoo retorted as her chilling breath reached his face, raising the man’s eyebrow in intrigue and anticipation, while hiding the fact that her voice sent a shiver down his spine. Her husky voice always made him submissive.
As Jiwoo had suggested, they skipped the ramyeon the moment she tiptoed and gave his almost dry lips a kiss past the doorstep, quickly tossing their shoes, gloves, and scarves before placing their bags on the nearest countertop. As soon as Jiwoo’s hand slowly reached down his bulge, Minseong’s manhood was already elevated and solidified as the chilling sensation spread through his body. Their arms began to tug on each other’s sleeves and shoulders the longer their mouths explored each other. How they missed their touches beyond holding hands and pecking. Public displays of affection are nice and all, but they wanted more than that. Longer skinships. Tongues to dominate over the other. Letting his bulge grind and rub against her clothed folds, making the woman groan on his mouth while pleasure rushed through her spine, electrifying throughout the rest of her sensitive zones. This gave her the surge of strength to hold onto Minseong’s shoulders and plummet him right onto the couch, much to his amazement.
Having spent most of the holidays with conversations at the Hyun Residence’s kitchen, living room, and the dining table, words were no longer necessary between them. The chilling breeze of winter fueled their warmth as their mouths remained locked together in a lustful dance, building up what they were doing next. Keeping her boyfriend pinned to the couch with her kneeling between him, Jiwoo slowly crawled away from Minseong with a tempting grin and fiery gaze. He chuckled with anticipation, slowly shivering from excitement while keeping his elbows on the surface, captivated by her initiative.
The woman carefully switched her position, making the sofa squeak with her movement until her ass was flaunting right in front of him. “You should know what to do next…”
Her bottom lowered inches above Minseong’s face like a crane, but the man placed his hand onto her left ass cheek. Due to the season, Jiwoo had been wearing a skirt over her pants, a fashion choice that exemplifies her creativity and convenience, traits that made Minseong adore her. Slowly, he pushed her skirt into the level of her waist, revealing a sight that stunned him aside from the stockings she was also wearing the whole night.
“You like what you see, oppa?” Jiwoo purred while turning her head at him. From his closest view, she was wearing a black thong, a transparent one to be precise. Driven by his curious and libidinal frenzy, Minseong extended his neck, pinched her cheeks, and dug his drooling lips on her soft cunt through the thin fabric, triggering a burst of moan from his girlfriend. “Guess I was right,” she chuckled while shaking her head in disbelief.
Unfortunately, his worrying instincts started kicking in at the wrong time, simmering his arousal down. “Jamkkanman… You’ve been wearing this the whole day? Wasn’t it cold for you outside? I mean, you were wearing your coat and the house was warm, but still…” Jiwoo chuckled, reminded of her own boyfriend’s parents. The irony in itself flew over his head because of his own overbearing concern. Still, she wasn’t ashamed of him.
“Gwenchana. That’s why I wore two layers of clothing,” she explained while caressing his thigh, giving him a calming reassurance. “I just thought, if we ever found a little bit of time for ourselves after dinner—” She gave each of his thighs and knees a salvo of soft and ticklish kisses, her smile persevering. “—I would like it to be a little more… Special.”
And that time was tonight. No parents to update one’s life with. No siblings to squabble or gossip with. No friends to drink or joke around with. Only each other, unchained by nothing and no one but lenient time. And remembering his own words, Minseong had understood her intentions clearly, both in mind and his member. Nothing should ruin their chances of spending more time together. “Wow, uh… I don’t really have much to say,” he admitted, embracing the heat building up in his system just staring at her in awe. “Lead the way, my princess…” His words made the woman bite her lower lip.
Fixing her hair to the side with a giggle, Jiwoo leaned closer to his cock and started leaving kisses, starting with his tip. As her lips descended into her shaft and recently shaved balls, Minseong felt himself being blessed by the saliva of this daring woman, his head slowly arched back and sank on the mattress of the couch, howling with pleasure until his hand covered his own mouth. Of course, he immediately realized how lacking the performance was, not because of Jiwoo, but because of himself. This could’ve been any other blowjob she had done for him, but she switched her positions for only one reason. He had to fight through his own paralysis of pleasure to make even with her.
With her mouth having finally lubricated his cock while listening to the groans of her beloved, Jiwoo lowered his head to take on his length and began bobbing. While the surge of stimulation from his member slowly built up on his spine, Minseong clenched his fists to get a grip on himself and get moving, finally eating out her moist cooch like nectar, pledging to not disappoint the woman as she was working her way on him. With both hands, he continued giving her cheek a slow and scrumptious massage, kneading them like a dough the way he made circular motions. Right now, a certain thought he once didn’t get from his friends sprung in his mind, making the man giggle in his kisses and encouraging him to widen the gap of his lips around her cunt. Thick thighs do save lives, he got off on this idea with how much her legs kept shivering and tightening between his head every second.
They could only feel the rising vibrations of each other’s moans from the lower parts of their body, oddly reminding the man of those thumper devices from those Dune films they’ve rewatched last week. Every slurp they made heightened the most sensitive spots in their bodies, accumulating into one collective pinnacle, the rising sounds they made couldn’t have been more arousing. The heat and buildup of their accelerated paces have just proven to be too much, and within only a couple of minutes, both parties reached their climaxes. Jiwoo took in her partner’s seed right inside her mouth, shooting straight through her throat, while Minseong welcomed her juices from gushing over his face.
The following seconds went by, Jiwoo made a loud gulp down her throat the same time Minseong licked the juices off his lips. While her legs were lying between his chest, the woman laid her head on his right thigh as she gently stroked his cock like a curious cat. It was not as erect, but not flaccid either, widening her smile as she rested, exhilarated by the head start, no matter how quick it went.
Both of them caught their breath. “That was way better than dessert,” Minseong howled.
“Glad you enjoyed it.” She gave his thigh a few light taps, followed by a slower rub.
“I never thought you’d be up for veggies this late,” he brought out of nowhere.
She raised her eyebrows slightly, tilting her head. “Yah… What do you mean?”
He tried holding in his laughter. “I mean, you took mine just now.”
Figuring out the imagery of his humor after three seconds of squinting her eyes, Jiwoo bursted out in laughter before frowning and smacking his shoulder in embarrassment. “Oppa! I still eat vegetables, you know? I haven’t forgotten the recipes you suggested.”
Minseong laughed from his corner. “I know, I know…” He never expected her to still be defensive about that, but he never really minded her overall diet. With her balanced physique, Jiwoo was simply fit and healthy, perhaps even more than him in the last few years. In fact, he may have attributed his recent muscle gains and regular weight losses all thanks to her, having friends who find time to have physical hobbies every week. Then again, it is more of his pet peeve whenever someone rarely eats their greens. Something he mostly both blames and thanks his parents for.
“Out of everyone, I think I munched on the fried mushrooms the most during dinner,” she grumbled, pouting at him while her hand reached to his shaft, giving it a slow and tight squeeze. “Not everyone can be a so-called flexitarian like you.”
“Hngghh…” Of course, like any other sane person would react, Minseong cackled while gritting his teeth due to a sensation that could only be described as being placed between pain and pleasure—mostly leaning towards the latter. He rubbed her hip, contrasting her slight frustration. “I’m just kidding, babe. Come on… Mianhae.”
While teases between them were still common, there was no point in competing with one another in regards to their endurance. What mattered to him the most was keeping each other satisfied. With both their stamina still up and running, engaging in oral sex on the couch was only the beginning of their post-holiday fornication, leaving room for more possibilities.
“Well, you’ve always helped me widen my palate,” she hummed with a more prideful tone. She helped him work out more regularly, he got her to eat more veggies on the daily or weekly. “But… I still can’t help but admit, meat will always be my favorite.”
“And I’ll always treat you for it, Jiwoo-yah…” His delivery with her settled down into something more serious, more unfeigned. “Whatever you want, I got you covered.”
“Hmm… You know which one’s my favorite?” she purred, moving her palm around his member up and down in a gentle motion, which kept Minseong paralyzed in his supine position. Jiwoo got up and crawled onto his lap, to finally face him, but because of her teasing hand, her boyfriend already had something in mind for her, making the next move when it came to undressing each other off their remaining clothing.
After giving her neck one more kiss, the man helped his girlfriend take off her knitted grey and blue long sleeve sweater, while the latter unbuttoned his brown collared sweater and pulled it out of him, before doing the same with his pants. As Minseong took Jiwoo’s top off of her, he was astonished to see her white bra, whose pattern and material matched her thong. To his lust-filled mind, however, what mattered more now were the mounds it was holding back.
Breaking through his own restraints, he went straight between her breasts, his lips kissing them normally before making a vibrant motion akin to a motorboat. Jiwoo arched her back, unable to decide whether to giggle or moan at his quick-witted foreplay, considering she just did both at that moment.
The naughtiness in her reaction made Minseong groan in amusement, prompting him to clash his lips with her, being able to invade her mouth with his tongue with little effort. They melted into this tense makeout session for another sloppy minute, but the second Minseong reached her cunt, Jiwoo broke from the kiss, but not only to catch her breath. At this point, she felt the living room just seemed to be too spacious and bright for their senses to keep going. In an instant, her boyfriend knew what he had to do for her next. Minseong had enough energy to get up from the couch and lift his beloved with him, carrying her like a bride on their way to his bedroom. Jiwoo couldn’t help but mark kisses on his clavicle and chest while wrapping her arms around him.
The bedroom was dimly lit, and the heater radiated more warmth here than the living room. Much better, she thought, before her hands crawled down to the man’s crotch while they stood next to the tidy bed. Under the palm of her sweaty and slimy hand, she was amazed to feel his cock rise up again only seconds into her slow and gentle touch. “Missing me already, hmm?” This same woman was sulking seconds ago.
Minseong huffed into his chortle, lowering his wail while his cock stiffened. “Hnggghh… How can I not be?”
Her eyes darted up at him with a gaze that struck through his heart, more with intimidation than usual adoration. “I was thinking of your junior, right here…”
His head almost tilted sideways while still resting his hand around her waist. “Oh…”
“Kidding,” she chortled, although her sultry tone remained to keep him submissive. She turned around while keeping her arms entangled with his, her left hand tracing his chin and sharp jaw, moving up his cheek. “But, I do wanna ask if we can do something first.”
Her scent was enough to make him close his eyes. A flowery lullaby, gradually building up the lust inside of him. “Anything, babe,” he whispered to her ear, sending a wave of shiver through her back. “Like I said, tonight is yours to lead.” For a second there, she almost broke her dominant front. She had to move before that could even happen.
Although their position was already set in her mind, Jiwoo took Minseong’s hand and walked themselves to his work desk, right beside where the body mirror was the closest. She gave her partner one more surprise by unlocking her bra. Not from the back, where he could reach with ease, but from the front. All he could do was observe and drool with anticipation, keeping himself from touching anywhere but her waist until her next step. Jiwoo widened the gap between her legs. Witnessing her sensual movement, his quick speculations were turned down with one confirmation. “This is your favorite, oppa…” From her breath, straight to his ear. “You can start when you’re ready.”
Excited by her initiation, Minseong inserted his erect and sticky manhood between her thighs, slowly closing in around him like a seatbelt, like her cunt. Oh, how he must have missed this feeling. Almost as good and as tight as sliding inside her. If he could keep kissing them at the same time, he would, but letting his cock take the glory would have to do for tonight. His hands made their way through the curves of her body, from her hips and waist until his fingers felt her breasts, bouncing to the rhythm of his gradually increasing thrusts. They latched onto them like facehuggers, albeit giving them enough room to keep bouncing right as he started massaging them.
Fucking her thighs was among his favorite positions with her, but he made sure he wasn’t the only one feeling good. Keeping his left hand on one tit, he moved his right down her nethers, sliding his fingers on her clit until she squirted. Watching her holler in front of the mirror was a sight to behold, it pushed him to up the ante of his speed on both aspects.
Although both his hands and cock were enough to make Jiwoo lightheaded due to the layers of stimulation spreading across her body, her boyfriend couldn't help but add his mouth as his lips dug on her shoulder, slowly licking on her skin until it moved to her neck while her low moans broke up into high squeals of satisfaction. Her right hand held onto his head, rubbing from his hair down to his cheek with encouragement. She heard him groan deeper and deeper, sensing the effort he was exerting with every movement.
“Don’t wear yourself out, oppa,” she mumbled, closing her eyes while her lids started twitching out of overstimulation. “I’m, auuuugggh, already feeling sooooooo freaking good! Ngauuuuggghhh!”
In the next ten seconds of thrusting, Minseong moaned on her shoulder before coming between her thighs. A little less unceremoniously than earlier. Although he felt fantastic throughout this session, he was far from fulfilled. Jiwoo sensed his determination from him, only anticipating his next move through the intermission of silence. There was only one other position, a necessity they’ve been yearning, thirsting to do for a while now. He helped Jiwoo take off her panties for the floor to handle. For this round, Minseong got himself on top of his partner, lifting Jiwoo’s legs while inching himself closer and closer to her until his phallus aligned with her entrance, dripping with her juice. Still catching her breath, her excitement kept her heart racing. She knew he would go for a more classic position this time, but she herself hoped for it. In Minseong’s mind, however, he also knew it would give her more comfort, but double the pleasure, despite stretching her body on the mattress.
“Who says you’re not a flexitarian too, babe?” he teased. She immediately got his joke, touched and reassured by his charismatic cadence. Without a doubt, Jiwoo is perhaps the most flexible person he knows, and he cannot be luckier to be with someone like her.
The woman giggled, before taking a deep breath to brace herself. Missing the hotness of and tightness of her insides, Minseong slowly and smoothly slid his member through her entrance while maintaining eye contact with her. Jiwoo’s smile widened and her gasp prolonged as she took the entrance of his girth and length, almost failing to hide her exuberance. His fingers intertwined with hers, tightening their grip the moment he carefully began to thrust his hips against her.
“Daddy,” she moaned. That term always turned him on when the occasion called for it. The more she called him that or even just ‘oppa,’ the more they could both feel his cock widening inside her chambers as it tightened around his rod. The howls from their own mouths spoke for themselves.
Minseong let go of her left hand and placed his right on her face, rubbing her cheek while she was groaning louder at the feeling of her insides getting stretched. “Yeah, baby?”
“Daddy... You wanna put a baby in me?” she winked at the same time her eyes twitched.
His eyes widened, slowing down his thrusts in the process, but he would be lying if this question didn’t intrigue him in general. “Huh?”
“Just wondering,” she giggled, sounding more like a domineering submissive than a stern dom. “What we talked about earlier…”
He immediately remembered one of the topics his parents brought up. “Oh, yeah…” He chuckled nervously. “That was funny… They were just looking for some topic to talk to you about.” It was nothing new to the family. They’ve asked the same thing about his older sister and her boyfriend. Jiwoo’s question just took him aback for some reason.
Jiwoo herself was no exception when it comes to teasing him. He may be the jokester in their relationship, but his girlfriend’s humor tends to hit harder whenever she wants to mess around with someone. “I know, I know… Gwenchanayo, oppa. Hmm? I know it’s quite a serious conversation, but I’m safe tonight… All I’m saying is…don’t you dare go gentle on me.”
By some instinct driven by unbridled lust, Minseong groaned with a grin before sliding his arms on the bed and wrapping them below Jiwoo’s arms to tighten and close the gap between them, making his shaft go all in her clenching canal. She gasped with jubilation.
From this moment, her sultry whisper gave him the final encouragement to exert more force into his thrusts. As a few minutes passed, Jiwoo’s breathing became more ragged, but she kept grinding against his throbbing manhood, wanting to stretch herself out by this continuous tantalizing impalement. Sliding in and out of her entrance in sync with the squeaking bed, his tip rubbed on her cervix again and again. Their calls and cries of praise and promiscuity intensified with their lustful aggression, it seemed like this sesh had yet to show signs that either one of them was tiring out soon.
Nine more minutes of thrusting went by, sweat was dripping from the man’s skin and dropping onto Jiwoo’s glistening body, having already soaked in her own dampness. He leaned closer to her left armpit, kissing it before opening his mouth for his tongue to lick her clean-shaven pit. Jiwoo craned her neck forward and stuck her tongue out, panting like a dog. It’s a display that increased Minseong’s drive, and an erotic gesture he always understood from her whenever they got closer. Aside from the perfumes she wears, her scent alone was intoxicating to him, perhaps a lot more than the scent of nicotine ever was. Breathing heavily while their mouths were only two to three inches away gave them a sense of dependency.
Even if exhaling itself has little oxygen to provide, the warmth it gives heightened their need to taste each other. Of course, even Jiwoo herself knew that she herself tasted good, but tasting her beloved made things better once their tongues came clashing and dancing. They get to share what they have tasted. Traces of chocolate mousse cake, white wine, galbijjim, stew, soy sauce-marinated crab, fried chicken, even kimchi and all other veggies Jiwoo didn’t touch tonight, and yet, she kept on relishing her boyfriend’s mouth. Although she was too shy to admit it, even to herself, she would probably be willing to eat more vegetables if they came straight from Minseong’s mouth first. It’s not like they’ve done a little bit of foodplay before, but that would take much more effort, and yield more messes than they're already in right now. Besides, their climax was already drawing close.
“Oppa, oppa… Ngauuuugggh…” Jiwoo was the first one to plead, knowing she could no longer handle the duration of their thrusting, no matter how she wanted it to draw out. From her weakening cadence, Minseong knew what she was trying to warn him about. His body felt the same after all, despite practically being on autopilot with his thrusts, forcing his lips to mumble, “Me… Me too… Babe, fuck!” next to her ear. “Sooclooose!” His intrusive thought tempted him to smooch her earlobe, inadvertently salivating it until the slight spark of tingle proved to be the final straw in her lasting endurance.
“Inside, daddy… Fuck, insiiiiiii—” the woman’s voice gave out halfway. She already orgasmed, but Minseong was still slowing down his movement over her in the following moments. Jiwoo climaxed a couple more times, her nails anchored on his shoulders, until it finally subsided. With a final groan, Minseong busted another longer load inside her, extending the note of gleeful sigh that she made, enjoying the warmth of her beloved’s semen filling up her womb to the brim. With her eyelids half-shut and head laying next to a pillow, her smile became the widest it could be. With his own strength partly replenished, Minseong rolled and dropped on to a vacant spot right beside Jiwoo, where he could recuperate alongside her. Almost completely breathless. Had they gone for more on a night like this, one of them probably would have fainted, before the other followed. Jiwoo laid her head on his chest. They found solace in each other’s breathing.
They both exchanged a chuckle of relief and fulfillment, thankful to be in each other's arms. The man inched closer to his girlfriend, rubbing his nose with hers in a soft rhythm, making her close her eyes and giggle at his playful way of comforting. This moment gave him the chance to steal a kiss on her lips. Not just one, but peppers of them. Starting with her forehead, down to the tip of her nose—right on her beauty mark—and giving most of her pecks on her lips until she stopped giggling.
As soon as he stopped to gaze at her otherworldly beauty, at the face he adored and mesmerized at since forever, Jiwoo pulled him right back to her, instinctively closing their eyes while they revel in their soft, slow, and sweet lips for much, much longer. Although he first decided to quit after their second year anniversary, it was on this night, specifically on this luscious and loving moment when Minseong confidently thought he didn’t need any cigarettes after sex, or anywhere else outside it. No regrets.
“I know your parents brought up the whole talk tonight, but I hope you weren’t too worried about that…” Bringing up such a topic from earlier, Jiwoo still had some ounce of concern about him in this certain conversation, making him take a deep sigh. Still, he couldn't help but be smitten by her honesty and care. Her personality is enough to make his heart race faster and louder.
“I was just surprised, sure… When they first brought it up, it made me think about a whole can of other things I never even considered yet,” he confessed. Jiwoo listened while resting her palm on his cheek. “I mean, we go on dates and trips whenever we’re not at work. We hang out and have drinks with our friends. I wondered if all of it was enough for us… For you.”
“You’re enough for me, oppa,” she iterated, not wanting him to make it seem like she was taking a side. She would rather let him hear her true feelings, rather than incite a needless argument like everything or everyone else around them. “And I’d rather not take things to the next level if we’re not yet ready... Or if we’re scared to think about it.”
“Yeah… But, I don’t think that I am too scared. Not the more I think about it.” He held her hand, while his other one went up to fix her remaining disheveled hair to the side of her ear. Jiwoo’s mouth gaped with optimism and intrigue through his ascension in tone. “Because, I don’t think I even wanna have that kind of life with anyone else, Jiwoo-yah… Maybe that’s what scared me.” Her eyes slowly widened at his unfiltered confession. Her heartbeat grew louder. “But with you, I don’t care how long it might take us, or how long we’ll be ready for something, I just wanna take the next steps with you. If you are.”
The first drop of tear left her glistening eyes. Her smile followed. As more tears dripped down her face onto the bed sheet, Jiwoo felt a hitch on her throat as soon as she told him. “More than anything else… Oppa…” Her voice dwindled into mumbles, but he could still hear her as clear as day. It wasn’t a proposal, but it was a promise that cemented the trust they already had. That space for vulnerability and compassion for one another. “Thank you so much for staying with me… For understanding me. Just for being there whenever things got tough… I can’t help but be so lucky… Being with you.”
“I was about to say the same,” he chuckled, before pulling her closer, letting her become wrapped around his arms and snuggled on his chest. “Come here…” Unlike before, Jiwoo no longer cries as much whenever she gets provoked or emotional. It's just when she does cry, it hits harder for her loved ones, most especially for Minseong. Tonight, he could only hear her sniffing and heaving rather than bawling like she used to, but it was enough to make him feel for her, making him tighten their embrace.
Jiwoo is one of the most thoughtful and sweetest people he can be proud of. The most beautiful and jolliest woman in his life. While they are all things which he had always seen in her prior to their romantic connection, Minseong often reminded himself he could not feel any luckier and any more blessed to be with her. Inching closer, he fixed her hair to one side. “I love you so much, Kim Jiwoo…”
She looked up at him with her captivating smile. Alongside her sparkling eyes, her apple cheeks stood out even more, such an ethereal face could effortlessly melt someone. “I love you more, Hyun Minseong.”
They were in unison in moments like these, but one would always try and up the other. “I love you—”
“Most?” she grinned, inching herself to his level until her cheek collided with his.
The man only chuckled, his beam widening in submission as their cheeks rubbed against each other. “You beat me into it, but yeah… More than anyone, my love.”
Sealing their love with another kiss, they started to simmer down at this hour. After ten more minutes of pillow talk, they would doze off under the warmth of their blanket and huddled bodies. Of course, work still awaited them in the morning, but not a single fret or worry were revolving around their heads. Until the sun rose, this couple only sought to follow and listen to their beating hearts in each other’s embrace.
= = =
just a quick update this time. I actually had to delay this release ‘cause I made myself write another fic in a whim lol. but that also means: expect another fic in a couple, maybe few, days. I've been challenging myself to write one-shot/quickies for this month, but I will probably get back to more long form, series writing after that.
well, that's it for now. thank you so much for reading and staying tuned if you are. have a wonderful day and take care y'all! ∠(‘-‘ )
a/n: a bit late, but I hope that everyone had a fun, wholesome holidays and, of course, a happy new year! a slightly longer update will be at the end, if you're interested or whatnot. for now, I hope you enjoy my first (short) fic of 2026.
The light of the sun had only just shone on Jeong Insoo’s apartment fifteen minutes ago, but both him and Jeemin had already been awakened by their own adrenaline kicking in, further enhanced by their burning drive for each other’s touch.
This morning, the woman was emboldened enough to make the first move from the moment she knocked on his door, welcoming him with a shopping bag containing some gifts, alongside a box of small cake and a bottle of champagne, which she placed on his dining table.
Despite him not expecting her or anyone’s company this early, they started the day with a little heated conversation, but looking back, when have they not? All the years of teasing and bickering between them since their bar hangouts had mostly led them into one outcome, albeit with countless varieties when it came to setting up the stage. The bar’s comfort room or staff room, and either of their apartments were rarely different. Most scenarios lead to them kicking their shoes and clothes off the floor the moment they walk through the door, huddling their bodies and habitually smacking their lips together with either desperation or excitement, or both.
This was the first time the woman has gone straight to his place without Insoo’s direct invitation, however, with her misplaced emotions driven by conflict, slowly influencing her actions with him. The woman’s more aggressive tongue danced with his, while the man’s yearning arms deepened their kiss by wrapping one around her fit waist and leaning down over her with his towering height, letting their slow and careful feet guide them across the apartment until their joint ounces of passion made Jeemin hop and sit on the dining table, while he got his hands crawling down on her curves until they reached her legs. Without any breakfast to replenish their morning, they were each other’s appetizers today, and they haven’t tasted each other in nine weeks.
It was the usual routine these two have been going on, but the magnitude hasn’t been this strong. They haven’t seen each other in a week after all and it has been driving each other crazier than before. One more than the other as every second passed, Jeemin couldn’t keep her own fingers from clawing through his newest muscle shirt. He only started wearing it after hitting the gym an hour earlier, and it received its fourth rip from Jeemin. And despite this, Insoo stopped wasting any more time, having his fingers nibbling on her tight, wet cunt through her thin underwear, with his drooling tongue and lips on her neck alongside his nose nuzzling on her scented skin like a hound.
The continual push and pull between their bodies caused Jeemin to nudge her elbow on the box of cake, spilling crumbs of the dessert onto the glassy surface of the table. And yet, rather than let the mess interrupt his focus, Jeemin wrapped her legs around Insoo’s waist and craned her back. She trailed frosting from top of the cake with her fingers, slowly pulling out a chunk of cake right in front of Insoo’s eyes.
Her unbridled boldness invited him to start slicking her hands until most of the white icing and chocolate was cleaned off her now salivated hands like a hog, making her watch while she grinned. She took a look at the remaining mess she had made on his face, having painted his lower face like a Pollack painting. As if she was proud of her own work, her lips attacked his chin first, deploying her tongue as it slid across his lower jaw like a paintbrush, before abruptly pulling him to her lips to taste the layers sweetness inside his mouth. She smothered herself to conceal any hints of bitterness they had earlier.
This morning, the very surface of the table she’s on was not the only wooden thing that’s hard, and by her hurried fingers tugging on his shorts, she demanded, begged even, for it now. Insoo pulled them down on the floor, quickly being welcomed by her other hand once it sprung. She has had enough of foreplay. While moaning through the man’s blind kisses on her collarbone, Jeemin wiggled her legs, raising the hem of her skirt up to her hips. This gave her the final inch to slide her panties onto the floor, before wrapping her legs around him for a second time. Having already memorized his body to some extent, the woman’s moist entrance kissed the man’s member, perfectly aligned to his tip, the tighter she held him. With a grunted chuckle, Insoo knew it’s up to him to move things to the next step.
His hips thrusted inside her while she kept on crying out his name with bursts of curses about and towards him. The traces of sugar, cream, cocoa, coffee, and soju on her mouth made him initiate another kiss that neither person could resist, muffling her moans through the clashing of their tongue and their trembling bodies. He almost forgot he still had neighbors at this time and day, but he could not care less. He only hoped that no one’s gonna be disturbing their intensifying moment. Backing out was not an option for either of them. They’re too far into losing themselves towards their carnal cravings. Plus, this was a better alternative than fueling the flames to a passive aggressive argument. But the longer they savored their mouths, the quicker their endurance burned out. Panic struck Insoo’s mind. He didn’t want to give into his climax this fast.
With both arms, he stopped his thrusts for a moment and held onto the back of her thighs. His focused burst of strength helped him lift Jeemin and walk to the sofa bed, still impaling her with his rod. The woman yelped, tightening her legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, shocked but certainly not disappointed by his surprise move. While keeping his eyes on her, Insoo quickly navigated the area before he could sit down right in the middle of the furniture. However, right as he leaned closer to Jeemin’s lips, she raised his hand on his chest. Insoo knew it was a sign to stop, so he allowed her to give him a light push to lie down on his back. Keeping her position on top, Jeemin had the man under her spell with her assertive gaze.
She helped Insoo take off his muscle shirt, which he tossed right into the corner of the living room, while the latter unzipped her dress from the back, letting her unhook her bra with ease. Without hesitation, Insoo implanted his lips on her luscious breasts from left to right, expecting the woman to let out her light giggles and heavy groans, to which she did while keeping both of her hands on his biceps as the man sucked on her nipples with his sugarcoated saliva. Despite this irresistible motion, Jeemin couldn’t help but give his left shoulder a long and slow pinch, making her partner groan with a sudden burst of sting and stimulation.
“Stop, aaauuugghh, stalling,” she commanded him, still feeling herself being impaled by his thick manhood. “Keep-uh… Going, please!” Despite already riding him like a bronco, her stunning body has only paralyzed him except for his head and chest, still focused on kissing her tits.
Realizing the signs of her plea and movement, Insoo laid on his head flat on the sofa, tightened his core and began thrusting his hips against her crotch, continuing their synchrony in seconds. “Ah, ye. Mianhae!”
“Have you gotten much more toned—” the woman gasped, asking him in a short speedy burst, while grinding gradually faster against his manhood. “—Than last time, fuck! Or am I going insane?” Her own latent observation widened her grin.
“You noticed?” the man chuckled, feeling his ego being stroked while maintaining his paces, although she couldn’t answer, only humming her affirmation. Jeemin’s sudden compliment to him was pale in comparison to her mouthwatering at his shaft still throbbing inside her warm womb, even from his supine position. She leaned down, inching closer to him, making herself wriggle her toes and groan with glee until the man’s tip had met her cervix once again. The overwhelming stimulus prompted her to clash her lips with his while she slowly grinded on his shaft. Her moans and slithering tongue only maintained the stiffness of Insoo’s phallus, having reached the limit of his thick girth, something that even Jeemin could barely handle without her trembling out of increasing stimulation. She broke their kiss first, leaving a trail of saliva between their mouths that fell through as she arched her back and gasped for air.
She tilted her head to the side with a smirk, watching Insoo groaning beneath her with his eyelids twitching and teeth clenching. “Tell me I’m yours…” she huffed, keeping her balance while riding his member in a faster pace to the point she had to grip her left hand on the furniture’s headrest, with her right intertwining and squeezing her fingers with Insoo’s as they felt each other’s growing tremors amidst the growing squeaks of the sofa bed.
“I’m… Yoours,” Insoo breathed, unhesitant to comply, with his teeth clenching while his right hand was pinching one of her ass cheeks lightly. Perhaps that’s how he has always felt about her, even if he never admitted something so vulnerable during their late night talks at the bar or on the bed.
“Aniyaaannhnghh…” Jeemin mumbled, exhaling a chuckle while surges of pleasure continued to build up from her sensitive regions, front and back. Within minutes of continuous movement on the furniture, her amusement eventually devolved into begs the more she felt his throbbing manhood thrusting in and out of her, his tip having completely stretched her insides with every groan-filled pound. “Not—what I—aaaugh—meant!” Despite being already overwhelmed by his pounding, she pushed through her creaking voice and breathtaking grindings just to remind the man, “Make me yours, Insoo-oppa… Jeeeeebb—bbaaali!”
“Majayo!” she cackled at the same time her crazed eyes gradually rolled to the back of her head, feeling her stamina wearing thin the longer she was bouncing on him. “Only yooouuuauuuugggh—fuuuck! You’re so good!” she squealed as if she was hitting a high note, craning her neck upwards and facing the ceiling until her dwindling moans were muffled by their slapping skins.
“You’re, ugghh, mine, Jeemin-ah!” Aside from his racing heart following the sweetness of her passionate pleas, he could also feel the build-up of his seed flowing through his cock. As a cherry on top, he moved one of his hands back to her ass, giving it a single smack that sounded like cracking a whip. “Mine!” he roared with dominance.
The echoes of their praises to each other had gotten through his last waves of endurance across his shaking body. “Jeemin-ah. I’m… I’m—” At any moment, he should’ve pulled out. Maybe, he should just pull it out of her regardless of the case.
“Saaaaafe!” Despite his precautionary concerns, she still knew what his senses were tingling about. “Insiiiiiide-augh!”
One more thrust out of his final vigor, Insoo’s warm and thick seed burst inside Jeemin’s womb a millisecond after. Unbeknownst to him, she already came a couple of times, her last climax being a few seconds right after she was praising him from the top of her lungs. In his eyes, however, there was only one figure of divinity among them, although it might've been his view that was helping his ecstatic perspective about her. On any other day or night, they could’ve gone for more rounds, but it seemed like their trembling bodies had kept them from doing so. Close to losing consciousness, a panting Jeemin fell on Insoo’s chest, her lips landing on his neck, yet she wiggled herself closer to his chin until they landed on the man’s lips. He accepted her advances without question, exerting the remainder of their vigor through this conclusive gesture. This was enough.
The apartment was left with the afterglow of their mess, from the trail of breadcrumbs and icing on the table to the small puddles on the middle of the sofa bed, where they remained lying down for minutes, silently cuddling as a routine, breathing against each other’s chest. And yet, this eruptive morning left both of them still teeming with more unanswered thoughts and unfiltered assumptions about each other through their quiet eyes and far hesitant movements.
Before the awkwardness could settle in the room, Insoo parted and got up first, inching his bottom to move to the edge of the sofa, but not before wrapping Jeemin with a green blanket from the couch on his left, a gesture that she couldn’t get off her mind in the moment that passed. It prolonged the warmth she had with him this morning, after all. A simple gesture that made her confused, flustered, but still conflicted by her current misgiving. “I didn’t know you’d come here, Jeemin-ah,” he admitted with a soft-spoken yet genuine cadence. “And it’s still pretty early, too...”
“Well, our shoot’s all done…” Jeemin wanted to play it smoothly. Even outside the set, she knew how to make a scene when her spirit deemed it. “And when I took a cab to the bar, I found the bartender there to be someone else.” Unfortunately, her experience the night before was far from exhilarating. “I headed straight back to my place. Had a couple of drinks and dozed off ‘til sunrise. I mean, I’m sober now…” She exhaled through her lips, looking down. “But still stupid enough to check on you.”
Busted by her finding, a gulp left Insoo’s throat, yet there was no sign of nervousness from his spirit, simply guilt and despair. Failing to do the bare minimum as a friend to her, he inched closer to her. “Mianhae, Jeemin-ah.” There was no point in giving another excuse.
“Why didn’t you just tell me you quit?” she shot straight, stunning the man for a whole second.
“I should’ve.” He didn’t defend himself further, expecting her quite understandable reaction. “But I just thought it would be better if I moved on—”
“Was it because of me?” she interrupted, surmising his situation based on their last physical encounter. “Have I finally been pestering you with my visits there?”
“Jeemin-ah.” His voice firmed up, himself feeling insulted by her own bitter self-deprecating presumption. Still, he couldn’t say anything yet. Both his mouth and mind were clashing out.
“Just answer the question.” Unlike Jeemin, who’s already had this type of scenario in her mind played out countless times, Insoo was bothered by her own assumption.
“You’ve never pestered me!” he emphasized, failing to realize the heightened volume and tone of his voice. “Jeemin-ah, you said you would be busy the whole month...” The more he argued, the weaker his tone got. “Was I supposed to do something about you being gone? Sulk around? Drink my ass to death? We have our own lives to deal with. We met different people too, and I accepted that… We do.”
He had a point, and she knew that. “Does that mean you’ve been hanging out with Mai-unnie? Minju-yah? Dahyun-unnie?” But her suspicions continued to flood his ear, playing prideful rather than following what she was truly trying to convey. “Did you get yourself drunk with someone else?”
“Jeemin-ah… Mai-chan’s on a trip to Tokyo. Minju-yah rarely drinks, while she still has her own crap to deal with Dongyul-ah. And Dahyun-ah hasn't visited a bar in months ‘cause she’s dealing with new recruits at her company,” he explained, sounding more reasonable. “They’re our friends, sure, but I haven’t met with anyone.” Insoo has always been a ‘people person’ way before Jeemin met him. She didn’t exactly know what came over her, except for jealousy and yearning. “And by the way, you’re asking me these questions like we’re a thing, Jeemin-ah… I didn’t care when you were fooling around with Sanghwa-ssi, did I? The blind dates you were having were none of my business from the get-go.”
He was lying to her as to himself about the latter, but his pride and pent-up discontent kept himself from taking his word back. Luckily for him, Jeemin knew him long enough to sense him through this façade of “throwing a fit,” even if it was something she thought she deserved. A reality check of some sorts. Still, in his eyes lied his guilt in the silence that followed between their distance. Moments like these where anything else but their own words speak their truest feelings. His avoidant gaze and quivering lips. His right hand clenched onto his left wrist, like it was a stress ball.
She realized he’s become more vulnerable. Beyond the charismatic exterior she has mostly known him for. Some things about him looked different too. His eye bags have disappeared. He was working out more. “I was gossiping with Sanghwa-yah about Koko-chan.” Yet she sought to lighten things up first before making her next move. She had to clear things from her own side.
“What?” Starting that moment, puzzles were slowly being solved in his head. The more things made sense, the more wish he could physically smack himself in the head after bursting in a fit of emotions at her, knowing he never wanted to do such a deceitful thing to anyone, especially to Jeemin.
“They were hitting it off lately,” she expounded, making it seem like she was just gossiping with him. Like their usual nights. “He may be a good bodyguard, but he was also terrible at hiding his interest in our giddy little friend.”
He began scratching his wrist as intrigue entered his mind, with relief softening his heart. “Huh… I never took her to have him a certain type, but wow… That’s really nice of them.”
“She might be our little social butterfly. Our consultant, but she rarely got to talk about herself… But, yeah, out of all places, those two finally both found luck.”
They exchanged a lighthearted chuckle. Then, from her words, realization struck both of them.
“You should know that I did have fun being single like you… Like what we agreed on.” A sigh left her lips. Her hand closed to a fist, a moment before letting herself confess her truth. “But the dates I’ve gone to in the past few months were just… Whatever… They felt like a routine.”
“Not even your costars?” he tried to lighten up with the question. This kind of topic wasn’t new to them.
“They’re not you.” This one was. She confessed with a nonchalant shrug and pursed lips, followed up by an embarrassed chuckle, making the man’s eyes widen. “Outside meeting up with friends or my colleagues, I just didn't see the need for anyone else’s company, you know?” Jeemin turned to him, with a soft and coy smile forming on her face. “Especially when I already had yours.”
“I...” Even after their heated moment, they couldn't have been more in sync. “Didn’t know you feel that way, Jeemin-ah…”
“I know I’m not supposed to feel jealous. Or feel anything, really.” She wasn’t daft. Even he’s aware of that. “We never had anything to call ourselves... After graduation, we started fucking around, but we didn’t want to find anything out more than that ‘cause I thought it was enough. No labels and all that.” It has been that way for years now.
“Yeah, we didn’t,” Insoo nodded, pursing his lips through the sting of her truth. It was a secretive and scandalous but simple reality they’ve lived by, but they themselves made such a pragmatic decision, believing that strings wouldn’t latch onto their hearts.
For years, they have always considered each other to be friends-with-benefits at best, but the longer they thought about it, friends was too shallow of a term. They were too scared to even consider the slight possibility, nay the fact that it was more than that, more than talks, drinks and sex every private hangout. But that also made Insoo realize, it didn’t give him the right to treat her like an obsessed hookup or ex, when she was clearly neither, no matter how often he shook off such a possibility.
“I’m sorry for raising my voice…” He lowered his tone down, dispirited by his own realization. “I just… I was assuming you came all the way here after your fancy party just for another hook-up. That was stupid of me to think.” Even if that’s what happened.
“It’s fine.” She didn't deny it at first, and his outburst felt like a breath of fresh air for her, oddly enough. “Though you could’ve just turned me down, you know?” she humored him, although her heart was now beating to tell him something more, now that she’s here. Something new, instead of running around in their non-stop cycles of flirtation and fornication.
“Well…” But at this point, Insoo himself was more afraid of losing her. “Why would I do that?” To someone he has been treating as a friend for years, he couldn't do a thing that would make them more distant. Even if it was a mere rejection of her simplest requests or advances.
“I just felt like an idiot…” She placed her face on her open right palm, muffling her next rambling. “My friends weren't lying when they said I had a crush on you back then. Things were still simple back then.”
Insoo chuckled, gently rubbing his nape while he recalled their shared memory. “How could I forget those nights? I still remember Mai and Jungeun teasing you around me... Saying you were having a supercrush or some—”
Jeemin groaned on her hand to interrupt him, before chuckling in embarrassment at his recollection. “Oppa, come on. That was six years ago!”
“Sorry, but I still remember a lot of that time. Sue me,” he raised his hands with a coy expression. They were still juniors at college, but their first encounters were still embedded in their brains.
“Yeah, fair enough…” She rested her cheek on her palm, with her elbow also resting on her thigh. “Those were fun times.”
Every second of reminiscence let the silence flow across the living room, which Insoo broke as he took a deep breath, instantly catching Jeemin’s attention as their gazes reconciled.
“I know it’s too late to tell everything, but I quit bartending ‘cause it made me think about a lot of things. I’ve had enough of it… I thought I was going nowhere. I felt…” He stared at the white wall, right above the television in front of them. Their past might’ve been filled with sweetness like their meetings, but it was also drowning him with moments of bitterness. “Empty... And trying to fill that with a bottle almost every night, every weekend certainly didn’t help.” From his palace inside the counter, he knew how to fix a library of drinks from the back of his mind, give people a space to celebrate a milestone or alleviate their worsening lives. But none of it was enough to fix his own.
Jeemin swallowed her throat. Her heart was sinking at his confession, making her realize that, despite her own complaints and misgivings with him, she also had her own shortcomings. Her palm immediately landed on top of his hand, her grip remaining gentle. “I'm sorry I didn't pay much attention to you... Compared to how much you listened to me, to us.”
“It's not your fault…” He often chuckled to lighten up the mood of their conversation whenever it entered a far more serious territory, at least when it was on his side. “I didn't tell anyone else about it either. Not our friends, but I managed to open up to my siblings... Plus, I don’t wanna trauma dump right after we just did it.”
She placed her other hand on his before he could turn away or stand up from his seat. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Well, at least I'm trying out new stuff now,” he continued. “If that makes it a little less gloomy.”
Her eyes blinked three times, slightly tilting her head. “Really?”
“Yeah, I started attending programs on catering and waitering.” Enthusiasm returned to his tone. “Those definitely kept me busy.”
“So you're not unemployed as I thought,” she guessed, still relieving her worry through humor. In her thoughts, she was confident that his current pursuits suited him. In a way, she felt proud of him as much as she’s still guilty for having overlooked his own dilemmas.
Insoo chuckled at her fair assumption. “Not necessarily. They got us a few gig offers for now, so I’ll probably be in a similar situation as you in the coming months…”
Hearing his progress, her smile widened. “I'm glad you got things figured out. But I hope you don’t overwork yourself.”
“I was gonna say the same thing about you. You’ve had quite the packed schedule. Got plenty of gigs and offers. Seems like everything’s falling into place for you, too, but it can get a little worrying.”
“Yeah, but I think I can handle my schedules now, thanks to better management… I mean, a lot better than last year, that’s for sure.”
“Dahaengida... And I, uh, I don’t know if I’m saying this as a friend or something else, but I’m really proud of you, Jeemin-ah… How far you’ve come... Maybe I’m just used to sucking up, but I believe you’re always meant for great things.”
She felt it again. Amplifying in her chest. Fluttering in her stomach, much like when her eyes first laid on him six years ago. Since before their introduction. Months before the concept of ‘benefits’ entered the spotlight. “Even after quitting, you’re still a pro at flattering people.”
They broke into another moment of laughter. “It’s not flattery if it’s true,” he shot back.
She shook her head, closing her eyes with euphoria. “Gomawo…” Another set of silence followed, but it was merely because Insoo waited for the woman’s words. Especially with her flutters reaching her ears, her mind was much readier than he was. More resolute than reckless.
“But, umm… Can’t we just start being something else, oppa?” she opened up, having had enough of their silent treatment holding them back. At this point, her feelings became a time bomb. They were about to blow up in his face sooner or later.
He kept his calm, despite already sensing the warmness accumulating in his cheeks. “What… Do you mean?”
“I know we didn’t feel comfortable putting labels before, but…” Her eyes kept moving from left to right like a pendulum clock, before stopping to face him head on. “Maybe we can change it now.” Her line was delivered. No retakes. She was not going back from this.
“You know we used to get into arguments like this before.” Misgivings were still unavoidable.
“Not about us necessarily,” she countered. “We argued about food preferences. About the shit dates who ditched us... This has been our first one in a long time, but we made up, didn’t we?”
“That’s true, but… I don't want us to keep fighting about everything,” he confessed, unabashed that his voice sounded somewhat exhausted or whiny. “Not unless it’s something we truly care about.”
She nodded with a soft smile. He was getting her. “We’ve been doing the opposite for a while now. Plus, we don’t need drinks for it,” she suggested softly. “I say we keep it that way more often... If that's something you’re open with.” Albeit with a last tone of hesitation she had to get through.
His reasoning often takes over in scenarios like this. “What about your status and schedules—”
“What about them?” But she knew that already. It was her turn to show him a new perspective.
He counted with his fingers, unable to leave his logic behind. “On top of modeling and photoshoots, you’re also an actress now.”
“I’m still me, oppa,” she assured him, also expecting this second line of questioning. Despite his suave and charm, he has also been an overthinker and doubter as much as she is. “That didn't stop us before… And I know it's weird to admit it, but even in the most hectic nights and the shittiest gigs I’ve had, I always ended up wanting to see you, Jeong Insoo.”
They both knew they still had some things to sort, but his answer couldn’t be any more clear. Without a word to tell her, Insoo cupped Jeemin’s chin and leaned closer to kiss her. Less messier. Much sweeter. In his momentous union, they heard each other’s heartbeats. The lustful rush they’ve had for each other slowed down and evolved into something more lasting. Their foreheads rested against one another. “Like you said, I’m yours, Bang Jeemin-ah…” he reminded her.
The woman wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling with glee and relief. “Likewise, oppa…” She pulled him into her lips the second time, extending their tender moment while their vision rested.
“You know, I really can't believe my girlfriend’s a rising star,” he confessed as soon as they parted, expecting a defensive reaction from Jeemin as her smile opened and eyes widened.
She gave his chest a light smack. “Yah! You're still onto that… It's just a supporting role!”
“That doesn’t disprove my point, does it?” he egged on his tease with a grin, nuzzling into her neck. “We'll see once the first episode comes out.”
Unable to counter his banter, Jeemin tightened the man around her. Resting and breathing into his shoulder in serenity, she always felt that Insoo was more than just a supporting role in her life. Much like how the man already sees her from his point of view, he has always been a star for her to look forward to every single day, and neither of them would want to change that, now that things had become clearer and far more comfortable between them.
“Do you mind if we stay here a little longer?” the woman hummed.
“Whatever you what… We haven’t had a movie session in months,” he brought up, making her gaze light up. “You up for a morning watch?”
“I’d like that…” She giggled. “We can have something for breakfast too.” The champagne would have to wait, while most of the cake should still be cleaned up and stored in the fridge for later.
“Of course! Let’s do delivery,” he quickly suggested, although a hint of consideration about her still lingered on him, considering her career. “But if you’re not on a diet right now, we can pick a light—”
She placed her hand on his cheek and leaned closer to his forehead, giving it a quick kiss. “It’s the holidays, oppa… That’s like, the least of my concerns… You said it yourself, we can order whatever we want...” The woman lowered and softened her voice further, close to his ear. “Do whatever we want.”
Their lips collided for another moment, while both their hands slowly reached for the remote on the coffee table in front of them, and only realizing it as they touched broke their kiss into laughter. Insoo let Jeemin do the honors of picking their flick. He picked up his phone from the table and opened up the food delivery app.
They would sometimes look back to this morning, pondering that, while their first weekend as a couple began in a somewhat explosive mess, at least they would be able to clean it up together.
===
so about my last note from the Naky fic, I lied, sorry lol. I mean, I did consider making a collection of holiday-themed/adjacent quickie fics, but I ended up not doing it 'cause of personal matters. I'm simply not built for that, and I'd rather be content with being slower but still productive, 'cause it's at least a pace I'm comfortable with. I applaud folks like starconstruction, usedpidemo, and others who put out a lot of fics recently. I gotta catch up with everyone's stuff now lmao. some writers have returned from their hiatus slumbers, while some are new, and that's something to be excited for.
and speaking of which, I got a little bummed that I missed a lot of fics when they first came out, because I avoided looking at new releases for the whole month. but overall, I don't regret looking away for a while. a little break really helped me with sorting things beyond the screen and slowly got to focus on writing again XD. maybe a little rusty, but I'll always do my best to improve.
and one more thing: there will be another fic after this. it's already done, but I'll post it later this week. it's also holiday-themed, which is late, but the winter season's still here, so expect that.
okay, yapping sesh is done. thank you so much for reading this. it is always appreciated. have a nice day, take care, and 'til next time! ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ
You remember that part where I deleted a shit ton of fics? I did it because I was unhappy, and don't get me wrong. I'm always unhappy with my work, but my overall perception of my stuff these days is that if its on my page it should make at least one person feel like their time wasn't wasted.
To not yap anymore, the tldr is. if you see a title like this, its an old fic that i've touched up to make them slightly more me these days. If you've read it before, read it again. See you soon for Lightning Round 6.
Love you again, star.
The wise detective prided himself on spotting things that didn't seem right, it's why he's the most prolific in their fiend or at used to be. He was more resigned these days, appreciating the small stuff that doesn't get looked at with the same level of care that they should have. And this case is by no means an exception, disappearances are nothing new. Even less so with college students, things go wrong, they run and more often than not are never seen again.
But this.
This was not like that, they all have the same signs. It's easy to dismiss things that'd take time as 'just another one of those' but the detective saw right through it, all of the evidence was laid disordered on his trusty desk where many cases have been solved.
Today would be another.
There was very little evidence, more than usual sure but for his uncertainty it was going to take a hail marry. He would solve what the police had not even attempted, then they could move from there. Just because they'd never do their job doesn't mean he won't.
Another gaze at the evidence, a phone with a cerulean case. It's cracked, damaged. One harsh impact rippling a grass wave through the middle, everywhere else was pristine. This wasn't years of decay, one moment.
If you are going to run, you'd need your phone…
Unfortunately the battery was completely dead, plugged into the detectives charger port. His hand anxiously tapping a rhythm into the mahogany table, feeling the worn out blemishes and definition under his chipped nails.
Their notebook, beige in colour and brown from coffee. Tattered to high hell, pages dingy and well worn out. Speaking of coffee, the detective was sipping on his very own bitter cup. Lukewarm liquid creeping down his throat, it was going to be a long shift and this was more than welcome.
There was one last piece of evidence, easily the most intriguing. A singular, printed picture of the room moments after they found out they were missing. Likely a few hours later, completely dishevelled. Pillows laid in a strewn mess on the ground, the blanket was coiled like a snake by the door. But what caught the detectives eye was the desk, it was ordered and neat.
If you are going to run, why'd you make such a mess? It just doesn't make sense.
This was not a run away, that was the conclusion the detective came to. But that's not concrete, just speculation until there's something more solid. It'd never be enough to convince the useless cops, plus he didn't know where to look just yet.
His hands found the notebook again, he had only skimmed through half of it before his dinner break. All the useless information. Math, english, art. If the detective took these classes he'd run away to be fair, but there had to be something.
Anything.
He flipped to the back, witnessing the tail end of something that wasn't notes, a scripture that showed promise. Skimming backwards until he could find the beginning of these notes.
"Ahaha!" The detective let out instinctively, this was it. The good stuff.
"September 7th -
Oh my fucking god! I actually got into the university! Haters can suck my balls lowkey, I'm proud! I wanna try a new method this year, writing down the thoughts that linger for more than a few moments. Heard on instagram this can be good for the mental health. We'll see, or well I'll see. Since this is sure as hell going nowhere while I'm alive. I may have been the only one of my friend group to make it but like, I'll make it work for all of us."
"September 15th,
Well making friends is a lot harder than I thought it'd be, people blow me off left right and centre. But well, I promised everyone back home that I wouldn't give up. Classes are officially in motion now, so it's only a matter of time before a spark happens… I like the teachers at least, if I had to deal with another annoying teacher I'd probably go throw someone into a lake."
The detective kept reading,nothing screamed trouble yet. Just an eccentric maybe?
"October 17th -
I need to get better at remembering to note things down, but I remembered today at least. I finally have a friend! Yubin, she's definitely the nicest person I've met here. She's actually the one who came up to me, which was crazy. But oh well, I was actually writing notes in this very book. Imagine if she saw these notes? That'd probably give any logical person the ick, a diary at this age.
Oh well, if only I had more to write in it."
"Yubin ay?" The detective's lips curved into a smile, that's a name. A first potential suspect.
"November 2nd -
Yubin and I have been very close recently, she's practically over everyday helping me study. What a nice friend, especially with all the soon to loom bullshit. She handed me pretty much every note she had, some of these weren't even hers. Where did she get them from? Oh well, it's been a much nicer feeling than the start. Until next time, future me."
"just a friendship…"
"November 18th -
Yubin introduced me to the rest of her group, it's not as big as I thought it'd be given how sweet she is. They seem nice enough, pretty reserved but opposites attract and all. Nakyoung's said five words and Kotone managed to say one. I've been told not to worry about it much, though it stings a bit. Too much school work to worry about that right now, bye for me. Future me."
Three names, three suspects, the detective checked the phone. A bit longer and it'd be able to turn on. Another sip of coffee and he kept it moving.
"December 18th -
Well, I forgot again. But at least Yubin was right! The other two are way more talkative, me and Nakyoung went rollerskating, that was neat apart from the part where I fell on my ass. It's very nearly time to go home for the winter break, which means they'll be going away. I won't, but that's okay. Exams are over so it's time for a well earned drink and respite."
"If they did well, then…" It gave even more backing to his theory, academic mishaps are the most common run away at least in this place. Sure there could be others, but with every page read it seems less and less probable. Though he had to keep at least a slightly open mind, confirmation bias could make him lose sight on other paths.
"December 23rd -
Yesterday was so nice, I met someone new and I don't want to speak too early or anything but I think we hit it off. Her name is Yena :)), we met in the hallway outside my dorm. I started by accidentally ramming right into her, but she picked me off the ground so she didn't mind too much. I hope. She and I got talking, she invited me inside. We hung out for the rest of the day, watched a movie and drank some alcohol. Nice stuff."
The detective chuckled, licking his finger to turn the flimsy paper.
"December 26th -
Yena and I spent yesterday together, the day before that as well, we are basically the only people here. Grabbed some cheap chicken and a bit of beer and threw on a movie, she looked captivating. She's very pretty, we made out a bit at the end. It's very vivid on my mind, the cherry lipgloss, god I sound like a freak. Whatever.
Scorned ex? Wouldn't be the first. He kept reading. Rubbing the stubble while pondering.
"January 3rd -
The other girls are back! I haven't spent much time with them, Me and Yena were spending all our time together. Doing all the stuff I've imagined I would be doing, walks and movies, day drinking etc. Though, Yubin walked past us and eyed Yena with disgust. Maybe I was misinterpreting it, but classes are starting back up so its time to focus on the grind."
"January 6th -
I don't know what i've done… Yena's just avoiding me, what did I do? It was fine three days ago. But now, she's running off. Her voice is meek and her skin is very pale, whatever I did I hope I didn't hurt her. I would never hurt someone intentionally."
The detective's heart throbbed, remembering times like that, young love was a bitch.
"January 14th
Something is very wrong, very wrong. Yubin, Nakyoung and Kotone. All of them want to hang out so much more than usual, their touches linger for too long. I'm very uncomfortable, it's all too much. But for now I will handle it."
"January 18th -
Fuck.
Oh no.
Yena cornered me in the library today, her face was white, her eyes were baggy. She looked awful, pulling me into a private rom and showing me her phone, the messages made my skin crawl.
Insults. Threats. Pictures of her in the past, they were blackmailing Yena. I can't believe this, she left after that. She made it clear she couldn't see me again, I don't blame her. What do I do? I don't have proof, I can't do anything about it.
I'll just avoid them for now."
The detective was very invested, this was the proof he would need to at least start something, he turned to the next page.
"Feburary 1st
Oh my god, they've come in. Stealing one of my fucking knifes! Oh my god, they trapped me. Making it clear if I dared to avoid them any more I'd regret it, Kotone threatened to murder anyone I talked to. Fuck, how the hell are we getting to this point. I am so fucking scared, but what if I report them.. what will they do to me?"
"What, the actual fuck?" The detective was concerned, obviously he was. The scratchings on the notebook weren't neat anymore, hastily written in seconds. Nearly illegible.
"Feburary 4th
It's getting way way way way worse, there's always one of them around. When I'm in class, when I eat, when I fucking shower! Sleep! I can't do this. I have got to find a way to get out of here, before it's too late. They are getting… I DON'T KNOW, but I need to fucking leave, I can't handle this. I can't keep writing these escapes in stolen moments! It's time to act. I need to act!"
" February 8th -
I tried to leave, pack my stuff up and just get the fuck out of here. But Yubin was there! Threatening to stab me if I dare move. They don't leave, no free time, no moments to write. I only managed to write this because Nakyoung was cooking. I shoulda just tried to run again, but I froze. All these whispers, snickers, everything. Maybe I just run and fucking go."
That was all the pages. The detective rubbed his stubble, pondering the words. The answer was clear, he just had to find out where the student was trapped.
Your eyes focused, coming to your senses. Head pounding, the ashy basements walls snapping into place. You've been down here too long, trapped down here for who knows how long. Every inch of your body hurt like fucking hell, skin severed and cut open in their rage. Scabbed blood threatening to pour out at any given moment, an exposed wound on your leg that wasn't infected by a sheer miracle.
You were alone, broken and shattered. Clothes torn up, skin exposed to the elements. Nausea crept at you, resisting the urge to hurl, it'd only make your situation worse. The light in the middle of the room laid dim, flickering a washed white. Crusty ropes wrapped around your legs, thick tawny imprisoning binds that didn't let up.
It was lonely down here, but way better than if they were here. Your wil had been broken and shattered into a thousand pieces, torn apart like your clothes. Nausea, so much nausea. Body warm and flush with sickness, that dim light was mocking you, barely flickering. These fucking thick tawny binds. You hate it here, you hate them.
The drip, the fucking drip. Constant, every eight seconds, never stopping, never deviating. It's the only thing you can focus on that doesn't bring you pain, yet it still brings its fair share of misery.
Jingle.
Your eyes darted over, dread already creeping in. Yubin, she's the exact opposite of you right now. Pale fair skin that's smooth and flawless. You envied her appearance, so perfect, like yours before she dug imperfections out with a knife and nail.
"Morning! Sweetheart its good to see you are already awake, though… Are you going to be better today? Last night– that was bad. We don't need a repeat." Yubin's holding a large box in her left hand, smiling way too bright. So smug, eugh.
"Fuck, off." Your voice was laboured by pain, choking out syllables to the best of your ability, head falling back against the plastic chair. If you could move you would, it's so uncomfortable and torturous.
Yubin's browns furrowed, eyes narrowing. She's tempting you to act up further, the tension making you feel sicker. Fear started to run into your body and valuable water sweeped out. It was going to choke you to death.
"Come on Sweetie! Is this really the route we are going…? Look!" She shook the box. "I have medicines, bandages, all of the pain can stop right here if you comply."
Stop.
The thought was making you think, is this defiance worth the agony? The humming pain all over you body, the sickness. Could it all sto–?
"How about this, I'll clean all of that illness up and in return you'll be good for us. Otherwise, that pain is going to get worse, maybe even infect and rot. You want that cute body of yours to be defiled? Disgusting? We'd love you anyway, but do you just want to hate yourself forever? Look at yourself in shame?" She hit you right in the fucking brain, frequent questions making your head spin.
"Because you can! We'll let yo-"
"Shut up… fine, yes, I'll listen!"
"Good, that's so good of you!" She got closer, face scrunching in unhidable disgust. You probably smell awful with how fucking couped up you are.
The detective rushed into the police department, hands shaking with anticipation. "Ah ha!" He bellowed, slamming the evidence down. The room fell silent, listening to the wisened man.
"I've got a lead, their notebook. They noted their school day, but that's not all!" He waved his arms around, the officers looking with intrigue.
"Three girls, Yubin, Kotone, Nakyoung. Solemn University, they wrote down everything they've done. Knives, blackmailing, abuse. This is a slam dunk for you, get your shit together and save this poor student!"
"Okay, but what do we do?" A police officer spoke up.
"It's simple, we try to track them down, which we can do with this phone!" The detective said.
-
Your wounds were patched up, thick gauze enveloping the injuries. Medicine numbing the burning sensation just a bit, Xinyu had taken you upstairs, laying on the plush, black couch.
Your wounds were patched up, thick bloodstained gauze had enveloped the injuries. Medicine had numbed the burning a bit, Yubin had taken you upstairs. Laying you down on their black sofa, soft and plush. Very expensive, resting your head on the ti-dye pillow.
Her arms draped over you, you didn't dare complain. Shuddering at the thought of what they would do to you, their wrath was unrelenting. "Hmm, you are being great, they should be home soon." She whispered, hands raking your hair.
"Fuck….." You muttered, terrified, Yubin was the nicest but that doesn't mean much. The smallest remorse doesn't amount to anything in the long run.
"Hey hey hey." She shushed, kissing your head. "Just be good and they'll be nice, you can do that right?"
You were groggy, exhausted, the first comfort you've had since you got here, eyes half lidded as you savored her soft embrace. A brief respite, even if you despised her. "It's okay, hate me all you want, just sleep for now and we'll deal with it later..." She serenaded.
Your eyes opened slightly, you were pressed firmly against Yubin's chest. You didn't move, wouldn't dare to. Hoping they wouldn't notice you being awake, not wanting to confront the nightmares around you.
"They've been fantastic, not a word of complaint." Why was Yubin lying on your behalf? She wasn't getting thanks for it.
"Fantastic, but can they just wake up..?" Nakyoung whined, her voice was coming from the left. Too close to comfort.
"They are awake, they stopped snoring." Kotone snitched, fuck….. Yubin lifted you out of her chest, the harsh rays of light flashbanging you.
"Oh, good morning! Good, you look so cute." Nakyoung's voice lacked warmth, she was trying. But you could see right through it, I mean it was not fourteen hours ago she stabbed you.
"Hello." You said bluntly, trying to hide your disgust.
She got closer, hand touching your rough cheek. The touch felt like a mockery, slimy, nails scraping against your skin.
"Hmm, you are still resisting me..." She remarked, "But no worry. You'll break."
Kotone sensed the tension, "Hey?? Let's watch a movie, let's not spoil this moment."
Weeks kept going, they didn't relent. Yubin was reasonable, tending to your wounds and giving you the closest thing to 'kindness.' Nakyoung the judge, jury and executioner. And everything was considered punishable, Kotone was just a mimic. Too spineless to stick to either side.
It may seem like a miracle, but the police were actually able to do their jobs. Working day and night to get any trace of the mysterious three, despite having names, a motive and clues on their location. It still took them forever.
But the night had come, there were officers coming for a rescue operation.
A loud crash woke you up, head whipping up as all grogginess had faded. Fighting against the restraints, loud chatter could be heard. The basement door is definitely locked, they are always paranoid.
"Freeze!" A voice could be heard, it's unknown, foreign to you. Is this salvation?
"Move and we will use our taser!" Another voice, you panicked a bit. But this could be your freedom, you started to scream.
Wait? This is your fucking chance.
Scream!
"HELP! I'M DOWN HERE IN THE BASEMENT!"
"Keys! Now." A loud crash was heard, every noise harsh and disturbing. The air was leaving your lungs, deep, short, long. It was all irregular, unable to compose yourself. Hyperventilating against the rope.
"Shit!" A deafening yell was hard, thumps. Things falling over, your legs kicked against the restraints. Desperate to get it undone, shake, shake. It started to unravel, come on!
"Shit! Requesting back up requesting back up!" A shrill scream could be heard, the words filled you with suffocating dread. The restraints fell on the ground, jumping off the chair.
You grabbed the handle, aggressively pulling it up and down. Pounding your fist against the thick metal "Let me out! Fuck!"
"Baby! I can promise you it's almost over, you just need to stay calm just a bit longer!" No, no, fuck! You had to get this door open.
"Oh, no!" A guard shouted, a yelp being quickly deafened by something you didn't dare imagined.
Footsteps came towards the basement, each step feeling heavier and heavier. Walls closing in, falling to your knees.
The basement door rattled, you started to sob, freedom being ripped from you without even being able to see it. Fuck.
"Oh, hey baby… I see you got out your restraints, well. You saved me a job!" Kotone stepped in closer, you started to crawl on your hands backwards. She was drenched in so much blood, you didn't dare think about how many people had just died.
"Don't you dare move, we need to leave and don't have time for disobedience." Nakyoung had appeared to her left, holding a knife stained in equal amounts of blood. Her hand gloved by the same mess, she went for the grab. But you couldn't just sit here and wait to be relocated, bought to another place. That would be wasting their lives, you had to fight. And you had to fight NOW!
Adrenaline surged through your veins, you slapped her. Hard. The sound reverberating off every surface, but it wasn't enough. She didn't even flinch, blood soaked hand gripping onto your neck. Crushing your windpipe, you thrashed to no avail.
"Never hit me again, or I'll kill you." She growled, taking your oxygen.
She dropped you, Nakyoung catching you in her bloody arms, every pass between them making you dirty in spilled and wasted blood. "Get our stuff, Nakyoung. I'll get him into the car!"
Yubin was nowhere to be seen, you had to continue your fight. Your sweaty hand grabbing onto her arm, trying to redirect her knife in a desperate attempte for control. "You need to stop this! Unless you want this knife in your leg!" She threatened you, eyes wide and freaky.
But you kept fighting, struggling with all of your power. Then she followed up on her promise, jamming her knife into your leg, not caring where it landed. A searing pain making you scream into her neck, already feeling faint. "Ugh… fuck, argg.."
"I got our stuff! We need to leave now!" You couldn't identify who was speaking, ears ringing, head pounding, the world was slipping away.
You could feel a faint impression of a car seat, being slid in. Everything was washed out. Your grasp falling away.
".......... " The sounds of voices, completely empty.
The world went dark. Even more hopeless than before.
The hotel room door clicks shut behind Kim Lip as she steps inside, her eyes immediately scanning the space for any sign of company. Choerry sits cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through her phone. Lip's been waiting for almost two hours now. One more second and she'd probably go crazy.
"Are you alone?” Lip asks in a whisper. “Or is he still here?"
Choerry glances up, understanding immediately who Lip means. She shakes her head, setting her phone aside on the pristine white sheets. "He left already. Maybe twenty minutes ago."
Lip exhales. The tension in her shoulders doesn't ease the way it should. She runs a hand through her hair, aware of how obvious her reaction must be.
"Finally. He spent an eternity here."
Choerry's expression softens into something apologetic, defensive of you even in your absence. "He was trying to help, Lippie. He saw how I was feeling and got worried about me."
She knows Choerry is right. You've always been like that, attentive. She waves a hand, conceding the point even as she crosses the room toward the bed. "Okay, okay. I know his intentions are good. I'm not saying they aren't." Choerry tilts her head, studying Lip's face. "But for a guy to babysit an idol on his day off…?"
"That just proves he's a good friend,” Choerry clarifies. “A really good friend."
Lip sits on the edge of the bed, close enough now that their knees almost touch. The familiar ache that lives permanently in her lower abdomen pulses harder, reminding her exactly why she came here. She reaches out, fingers finding Choerry's wrist.
"Let's forget about him for a while."
When Lip leans in, Choerry meets her halfway, their lips connecting with familiarity. The kiss starts gentle, almost chaste, but within seconds it deepens into something most urgent. Choerry's hands find Lip's face, holding her there as their mouths open against each other. Lip tastes the strawberry lip balm Choerry always uses, sweet and artificial on her tongue.
They're moving without thinking, muscle memory taking over as they've done so many times before. Choerry's fingers work at the hem of Lip's oversized sweatshirt while Lip tugs at the loose t-shirt Choerry wears. Fabric slides over skin, tossed carelessly to the floor. Choerry's shorts follow, then Lip's sweatpants, until they're down to just their underwear. The air conditioning raises goosebumps across their exposed skin, but neither of them feels cold. The heat building between them burns away everything else.
Lip pushes forward, guiding Choerry backward until her back hits the mattress. Choerry goes willingly, eagerly, her dark hair spreading across the pillow. Lip's hands find the clasp of Choerry's bra, unhooking it with deft fingers.
The moment Choerry's breasts are freed, Lip's mouth is on them. She takes a nipple between her lips, sucking hard enough to make Choerry arch off the bed.
"Fuck, Lippie," she moans.
Choerry's hands fly to Lip's head, fingers tangling in her hair as she holds her there. Lip's tongue circles the hardened peak, flicking and teasing before moving to the other breast. She can feel Choerry's heartbeat racing beneath her lips, can hear the breathless gasps that fill the room. But even as pleasure shoots through Choerry's body, that deeper ache remains. The one that never leaves. The one that demands more than what they can safely give each other.
The hormones have been unbearable lately, worse than usual if that's even possible. Lip can feel her own body screaming for relief, the constant arousal that sits heavy in her core and never fully dissipates no matter how many times they do this. Choerry must feel it too because her hands are already moving, hooking fingers into the waistband of her panties.
"Don't take them off."
Lip's instruction comes out breathy as she sits up, working her own underwear to the side. Choerry follows suit, pulling the damp fabric away from her center without removing it completely. The exposure to air makes her shiver, makes the wetness coating her inner thighs feel even more obvious. Lip positions herself over Choerry, one leg sliding between hers, the other bent to give her leverage.
When their bare pussies finally press together, both of them cry out. The relief is immediate and overwhelming, like scratching an itch that's been building for hours. Lip grinds down, her swollen clit dragging against Choerry's, their slick folds sliding together in a way that makes rational thought impossible. Choerry's hips buck up to meet her, creating friction that sends sparks of pleasure through both their bodies.
"Yes, fuck, don't stop,” Choerry moans, her nails digging into Lip's thighs as she rocks against her.
Lip braces herself with one hand beside Choerry's head, the other gripping Choerry's hip to pull her closer, harder. Their bodies find a rhythm, grinding and sliding together with increasing desperation. Lip can feel Choerry's clit throbbing against hers, can feel the flood of wetness between them making every movement slicker.
The pleasure builds in waves, each one cresting higher than the last. Lip's thighs burn from the exertion but she doesn't care, can't care about anything except the feeling of Choerry's pussy pressed so intimately against hers. Choerry's moans get louder, less controlled, her whole body trembling beneath Lip's. When Choerry's back arches and she cries out, Lip feels the gush of fluid against her own cunt, and knows Choerry is coming. The knowledge pushes Lip over the edge too, her own orgasm crashing through her as she grinds down hard, prolonging both their pleasure.
Outside the room, the elevator dings as you reach Choerry's floor, the box of cupcakes balanced carefully in your hands. You had only left about half an hour ago, but seeing how tired and worn down she looked had been eating at you. The idol life is brutal, everyone knows that, but lately Choerry seems to be taking the worst of it. You blame the schedule, the lack of proper rest and nutrition that comes with constant promotions and practice. Then you remembered that Choerry loves sweets, and some cupcakes might cheer her up a bit.
Your shoes are quiet on the carpeted hallway as you approach her door. You're still thinking about whether you should have gotten the vanilla ones too, maybe she's tired of chocolate, maybe you should have asked first. The thoughts occupy enough of your attention that you don't think to knock. You were literally just here twenty minutes ago. It's not like she's doing anything special. Your hand turns the handle and pushes the door open.
The scene that greets you makes your body freeze.
Kim Lip and Choerry are on the bed, mostly naked save for underwear pulled hastily to the side. Their bodies are pressed together in a way that leaves absolutely no room for misinterpretation. They're scissoring, their pussies grinding against each other as they move. The sounds they're making, breathy and desperate, cut off the instant the door opens. Three pairs of eyes lock together.
The color drains from both their faces so fast you'd think they'd seen a ghost. Choerry's mouth falls open but no sound comes out. Lip's eyes go wide, her whole body going rigid. For a moment that stretches into eternity, nobody moves. Nobody breathes. The only sound is the air conditioning humming in the background.
Your throat works as you swallow hard, your own face burning with heat that spreads from your cheeks down your neck. Your mouth opens and the words tumble out on autopilot.
"I'm sorry, I'll come back another time."
You're already turning, already trying to process what the fuck you just walked in on, when Choerry makes a small desperate sound. She looks at Lip with panic in her eyes, her hands still frozen where they'd been gripping Lip's thigh. They're both scrambling now, adjusting their underwear back into place with shaking hands, trying to cover themselves even though it's far too late for that.
"Do something." Choerry's murmur is barely audible but you catch it anyway. You're halfway out the door when Lip says:
"Come back here. Now!"
Her voice stops you in your tracks. You turn around slowly. Both of them are sitting up now, their clothing situation only marginally more decent than before. Choerry looks between you and Lip. You have to say something before things get even worse.
“Look, I am so, so sorry, I swear—I just wanted to drop these off for Choerry, she wasn’t feeling great and I figured, like, cupcakes make everything better, right? God, I’m not—I’m not like spying on you guys or anything, I just—” You’re babbling, your brain is melting, you’re not even promising to keep their secret because it doesn’t even cross your mind they might worry about that; you can’t see straight past the embarrassment.
You're still talking a lot of nonsense when Lip finally cuts you off: “Will you shut up for a second?”
Your mouth snaps closed. You can’t meet her eyes. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.
Lip sighs, a hand in her hair - she’s annoyed, but she doesn’t look angry. “Okay. Just... chill out, alright?”
Choerry tries to give you a smile, but it comes out nervous. “Listen. There’s actually, um. An explanation for all of this.”
You’re shaking your head already, just desperate not to make them feel any worse. “You don’t have to. Seriously, it’s totally fine, I one hundred percent get it. You don’t owe me—”
Lip snorts and interrupts again. “Yeah, except, uh, it’s not exactly what you think.” She rubs her eyes, then looks at you dead-on. “Actually yeah, it is what you think, but it’s also messed up. Like, way more complicated.”
You swallow. “Okay.” The room is so weirdly silent besides your thumping pulse.
Choerry grabs her pillow and hugs it tight against her chest. “We have this—” her mouth twists “—hormonal disorder? We never talk about it ‘cause, seriously, it’s hell, and nobody would get it.” She glances sideways at Lip. “We’re always in heat, basically. Our ovaries, uh, never shut off. We’re producing, like, literal eggs, constantly.”
Lip’s lips twist into a bitter little smile. “That isn’t a joke. It never, ever ends. We’re… exhausted. All the time.”
“But it makes us super—” Choerry fidgets with the pillow, embarrassed “—super horny. All the time.”
“She means insatiable,” Lip says. “It doesn’t matter what we do, it never goes away. It just gets worse. If we try to hold it in, we can’t focus, we get sick—crazy headaches, fevers, sometimes I literally start crying for no fucking reason.”
“That sounds… awful. God. I’m so sorry.”
Choerry shrugs, lets out a weird little laugh. “We’re used to it by now. Sort of.” She plays with a loose strand of hair, not looking up. “There’s only one real cure, but we can’t exactly—” She shoots you this sly, almost embarrassed look.
Lip jumps in, giving you the facts. “If we want out? If we want our bodies to actually reset so we can be normal? We’d have to get pregnant. Like for real. That’s literally the only thing that’ll fix us.”
It explains… so much. All those weird days, the tears, the disappearances, how weird they got about dating or even just… holding hands. You’re staring at the carpet, everything clicking into place.
“I’m really, really sorry you’re dealing with this,” you say. You look at Choerry, who’s still hugging that pillow tight like she’s keeping herself from shaking apart. “I wish there was something I could do about it.”
Choerry and Lip look at each other, and you can see both of them tense You set the cupcakes on the table, floundering a little. You step forward and open your arms. “Come here,” you say, and pull Choerry into a hug.
She melts against you, arms coming up around your waist. She fits close, her face burying itself in your shoulder for a second, then pressing against your neck - way too long, breathing you in way too deep, her hair tickling your jaw.
You’re about to let go when Lip nudges your arm pointedly. “Hey. If you’re going to hug Choerry, you’ll have to hug me too. Otherwise, that’s like, super rude.”
You laugh, nervous, but pull Lip into your arms too, hugging her; she grabs on maybe tighter than necessary, fingers flexing into the fabric of your shirt, her face tucked a little too firmly into your shoulder. The hug goes on, and on, her breath warm through the thin fabric. She finally breaks away, looking a little dazed, looking anywhere but your face.
“Maybe I should just… go,” you say and your cheeks turn red as you realize you just hugged two girls who are wearing nothing but their underwear. Jesus, you just keep fucking everything up. “I don’t want to make everything weirder. If you guys need anything, anything at all, you just have to tell me. Seriously. I’ll help with whatever you need.”
Choerry gives you a quick, lopsided grin, her cheeks pink. “Thanks for the cupcakes.” She sounds a little breathless.
You slip out, heart pounding like crazy, replaying every second in your mind and wondering how the hell things got this intense, this fast.
As soon as the door clicks shut, Lip lets out this huge, relieved breath. “Fuck. That was—”
Choerry’s already squirming back onto the bed. “Don’t even start. I need you again right now. That… that hug? Nearly made me cum.”
Lip smirks, already pulling her panties down again. “Yeah. We are really, really screwed.”
Neither you nor they realize what you’ve really offered with that little “anything.” But in the sticky, throbby silence of the room, the idea plants itself - deep. And their bodies answer, like always, with a need that just won’t quit.
—
It starts with Choerry just a few days after that conversation, while the tour's in full swing and everyone's running on fumes and caffeine.
You're working as a production assistant with ARTMS, which basically means you do whatever needs doing - hauling equipment, coordinating with venue staff, making sure the girls have what they need between rehearsals and shows. It's chaotic and exhausting but you love it, love being part of something this big even if your role is small. You're in the middle of organizing some props backstage when your phone buzzes in your pocket.
Choerry: hey can u come to my room?
You stare at the text for a second. Ever since you walked in on her and Lip, things have been... different. Not bad, different. You type back quickly.
You: sure, everything ok?
Choerry: yeah just wanna see u
The casualness of it makes your pulse kick up anyway. You finish what you're doing, tell one of the other staff you'll be back in a few, and head to the hotel wing where the members are staying. The hallway is quiet, most of the group probably resting or doing their own thing before tonight's show. You knock on Choerry's door and she opens it almost immediately, like she was waiting right there.
She's wearing short shorts, the kind that show off most of her thighs, and an oversized hoodie that slips off one shoulder. Her hair is down, still a little damp like she just showered. She smells like vanilla body wash
"Hey," she says, stepping back to let you in. Her smile is bright but there's something underneath it, something nervous or excited or both.
You step inside and the door clicks shut behind you. "So what's up? You need anything?"
She shakes her head, then pauses, biting her lip. "Actually, yeah. I do need something." She walks further into the room, her bare feet silent on the carpet. "I need a favor."
"Okay," you say slowly, watching her. "What kind of favor?"
"I need you to make me cum."
For a second you just stand there, convinced you misheard. "What?"
"You heard me." She's not smiling anymore. Her expression is dead serious, almost pleading. "I need you to make me cum. Please."
"Choerry, I... you can't just..."
"I'm serious." She takes a step closer. "I know it sounds crazy but I'm going insane. Lip helped earlier but it's not enough, it's never enough, and I just… I need something different."
You're shaking your head, trying to think past the sudden rush of blood in your veins. "Use a vibrator or something. There are toys, you don't need me to..."
"It won't help. Trust me, I've tried everything. Toys don't do it anymore. I need something real, something better."
"Then get Lippie again," you say, even though your body is screaming at you to stop talking, to just give her what she wants.
"I want something new." She's right in front of you now, close enough that you can see the flush on her cheeks, the way her pupils are blown wide. "I want you."
Your throat is so fucking dry it hurts. "Choerry..."
"It'll be quick," she says. "I promise, just... please. Don't you think I'm pretty?"
The question catches you off guard. Then you look at her. The delicate lines of her face, those big dark eyes framed by her bangs, the way her lips are parted just slightly. Her body is toned, curves in all the right places, her breasts pressing against the fabric of her hoodie. She's not just pretty. She's gorgeous, and you'd have to be dead not to notice.
"You're beautiful," you say honestly. "That's not the problem."
She sits down on the edge of the bed, and then she spreads her legs, leaning back on her hands. The movement makes her shorts ride up even higher, and you can see a damp spot on the gray fabric between her thighs.
"Just try it," she says softly. "Please. Just suck me until I cum. I'll feel so much better, I promise. It hurts so bad right now."
You should leave. You should walk out that door and pretend this conversation never happened. But your feet are moving before your brain catches up, carrying you closer to the bed.
"Just this once," you hear yourself say. “Just because you need... help.”
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." She sounds triumphant as hell.
Choerry hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and pulls them down her legs, tossing them aside. Her panties are pale pink and soaked through, clinging to the shape of her pussy. You kneel between her legs, your hands shaking slightly as you reach for the elastic of her panties. When you pull them down, she lifts her hips to help, and then she's bare in front of you. Her pussy is perfect, swollen and glistening, her inner lips flushed dark pink. The scent of her arousal hits you hard, sweet and musky.
"This is insane," you mutter. “I can't believe I'm actually going to do this.”
"Oh please." Choerry's laugh is breathy. "You're acting like you're not dying to do this."
"Shut up," you tell her, and lean in.
The first taste of her makes your eyes close. She's incredibly wet, her arousal coating your tongue as you lick a slow stripe up her slit. She gasps above you, her thighs twitching on either side of your head. You do it again, this time letting your tongue dip between her folds, exploring the soft heat of her. She tastes slightly tangy, slightly sweet.
"Oh fuck, yes," Choerry moans, her hand coming down to rest on top of your head. "Just like that, oh my god."
You seal your lips around her clit and suck gently, and her whole body jerks. Her fingers tangle in your hair. You work her with your tongue, alternating between broad flat licks and focused attention on her clit, learning what makes her moan louder, what makes her hips roll forward seeking more.
She's so wet that it's dripping down your chin, coating your lips. Every time you pull back for air, you can see more arousal leaking from her entrance, her body producing it endlessly. It's exactly like she said, like her body is stuck in overdrive and can't turn off.
"Thank you," she gasps between moans. "Fuck, thank you, this feels so good."
Her free hand comes up to squeeze her own breast through her hoodie, kneading the flesh roughly. She starts grinding against your face, using your mouth for her pleasure, and you let her, holding her thighs and letting her take what she needs. Your cock is rock hard in your pants, straining painfully against the zipper, but you ignore it. This isn't about you.
"You know," she pants, "if you wanted to fuck me, you could. Right now. Just pull your cock out and push it inside, I'm so ready for it."
You pull back just enough to speak, your lips still brushing her wet flesh. "I'm not going to do that."
"Why not?" She grinds harder, smearing her wetness across your mouth and chin. "I want it so bad. Want you to fuck me until you cum deep inside, fill my pussy up, breed me like I need..."
The dirty talk sends a jolt straight to your cock but you force yourself to focus. You know what she's doing, know that breeding talk gets her off, that her condition makes her desperate for it even though it would ruin everything. You're not going to be the one to do that to her, no matter how much your body is screaming at you to take her up on the offer.
Instead you double down, sucking her clit hard while you work two fingers inside her. She's so wet that they slide in with no resistance, her walls clenching around them immediately. You curl them up, searching for that spot that'll make her see stars, and when you find it she nearly screams.
"Right there, oh fuck, right there, don't stop!"
You don't. You work that spot with your fingers while your tongue flicks rapidly over her clit, giving her everything you've got. Her thighs start trembling, squeezing against your head, and her moans get higher and more desperate.
"Gonna cum," she whimpers. "Gonna cum so hard, please please please..."
You feel it building in her body, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, and then she breaks. Her pussy clenches hard around your fingers, pulsing rhythmically as her orgasm crashes through her. She's gushing, soaking your hand and your face, her whole body shaking with the force of it. You work her through it, gentler now, until she's whimpering and pushing at your head because it's too much.
When you pull back, your face is a mess. Your chin and lips are drenched, your fingers pruned from her wetness. Choerry is sprawled on the bed, chest heaving, her skin flushed pink all the way down her neck. She looks absolutely wrecked, her eyes unfocused and hazy.
"That was so good," she breathes. "Holy shit."
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, trying to steady your own breathing. Your cock is still achingly hard, but you ignore it. "Don't get used to it," you tell her.
She lifts her head just enough to look at you, and the smile she gives you is pure satisfaction. "Too late, darling," she says simply.
You stand up on shaky legs, adjusting yourself as discreetly as possible. "I should go. You've got a show tonight."
"Yeah." She doesn't move from where she's lying, just watches you with those beautiful dark eyes. "Thanks. Really."
You nod, not trusting yourself to say anything else, and leave before you can do something stupid like climb on top of her and give her exactly what she was begging for.
—
You knew this was coming eventually, but you didn't think it would happen this fast.
You're in one of the smaller storage rooms backstage, double checking inventory on some equipment that needs to be packed up after tonight's show. It's tedious work but it keeps your mind busy, keeps you from replaying the feeling of Choerry's pussy on your tongue for the hundredth time today.
The door clicks shut behind you and you turn around to find Kim Lip standing there, her hand still on the handle. She looks pissed.
“Finally,” she says, sounding exhausted. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” And there it is, the reason why.
You set down the clipboard you were holding. "You were looking for me?"
"Obviously." She crosses her arms over her chest, and yeah, she's definitely angry. "I know what you did with Choerry."
"Look, she asked me to, I didn't just..."
Lip cuts you off, taking a step closer. "Did you even think about doing the same for me? Or did that just not cross your mind? I'm dealing with the exact same shit she is. The exact same condition. But somehow she's the one who gets your attention."
"That's not..." You're fumbling for words, trying to explain something you don't even fully understand yourself. "It wasn't like that, she just..."
"Sometimes I think you like her more than me." She takes another step closer to you, practically trapping you in this small room. "I mean, you're always checking on her, bringing her food, and now you're getting her off too apparently."
"Lip, that's not fair, I..."
"Shut up." Her hand comes up, one finger pointing at you. "Just shut up and help me."
"Help you? How?"
"With your dick,” she says bluntly. "What else would I mean?"
"I can't," you say immediately. "You guys explained it to me. The pregnancy risk. Penetration is off the table, you said that yourself."
She lets out a frustrated sigh, her hands going to her hips. "I know that. I'm not asking you to fuck me." There's a pause. Then: "Just... anything else will work. You don't have to actually put it inside me. Just rub it against me or something. I don't care. I just need something. It'll be quick. I'm really horny.”
"Are you sure about this?"
She's already reaching for the button of her jeans, popping it open with quick fingers. "Does it look like I'm not sure?" The zipper comes down next, and she shoves the denim down her thighs without ceremony. Her panties are black lace, and even from here you can see the damp spot darkening the fabric between her legs. She stays like that for just a few seconds before finally pulling down her panties as well.
"Do the same," she tells you, nodding at your pants.
Your hands move on autopilot, undoing your belt and shoving your pants and boxers down just enough to free your cock. It's already half hard just from the situation. The moment it's out, Lip's eyes lock onto it and she lets out this soft, wounded sound.
"Fuck," she breathes. "I've always wanted a dick inside me. Just once. Do you have any idea how much it sucks knowing I can't?"
She reaches out and wraps her fingers around your shaft, her touch tentative at first, exploratory. You suck in a breath as she strokes you slowly, experimentally, watching the way your cock hardens fully in her grip. Her hand is softer than yours, her touch lighter, and it feels incredible. She works you for a moment, her thumb swiping over the head and smearing the bead of precum that's gathered there.
"Come here," she says, letting go and stepping closer to you. "This is going to be a little awkward but it'll work."
You move into her space, and she guides you with her hands, positioning your cock between her thighs. You're both still standing, her legs pressed together with your shaft trapped between them. Her pussy is right above your cock, not touching but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from her.
"Okay," she says. You notice that her breath is a little shaky. "Move."
You do, pulling your hips back and then pushing forward, sliding your cock between the tight press of her thighs. The friction is insane, warm and slick because she's so wet that it's dripping down her legs, coating your shaft. You groan, your hands coming up to grip her hips for balance, and she makes this needy little whimpering sound.
"That's it," she gasps. "Keep going."
You find a rhythm, fucking her thighs in slow, deep strokes. Every time you push forward, the head of your cock bumps against her pussy lips, dragging through her wetness, and it makes both of you shudder. It's not penetration but it's close, intimate in a way that feels almost more intense because of the restraint required. Her hands come up to clutch at your shoulders and then she's kissing you, her mouth hot and desperate against yours.
The kiss is messy and uncoordinated, all tongue and teeth and panting breaths. You kiss her back with everything you have, one hand sliding from her hip to grab a handful of her ass. She moans into your mouth and presses closer, changing the angle so that your cock is rubbing more directly against her clit with every thrust.
"Oh god, yes," she whimpers against your lips. "Just like that, don't stop."
You squeeze her ass harder, kneading the firm muscle and using your grip to pull her tighter against you. Your cock is sliding through her folds now with every stroke, getting coated in her arousal, the wet sounds of it obscene in the quiet of the storage room. She's so slick that there's no resistance at all, just perfect slippery friction that's driving you both crazy.
Lip breaks the kiss to gasp for air, her forehead pressed against yours. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her mouth open as she pants. "Feels so good," she slurs. "So fucking good, I needed this so bad."
You can feel her trembling against you, her whole body wound tight with tension. You adjust your angle slightly, making sure your cock is hitting her clit on every pass, and her nails dig into your shoulders hard enough to hurt even through your shirt.
"Close," she whimpers. "I'm so close, please don't stop, please..."
You wouldn't stop now if someone walked in. You're too far gone, too consumed by the feeling of her wet pussy sliding against your cock, the taste of her still on your tongue from her kiss, the desperate little sounds she's making. You fuck her thighs harder, faster, chasing her pleasure and ignoring the way your own orgasm is building at the base of your spine.
When she cums it's with a full body shudder that nearly knocks you both over. Her pussy clenches and pulses against your cock, gushing fluid that runs down both her legs and yours, soaking everything. She buries her face in your neck to muffle her cry, her teeth grazing your skin. You hold her through it, your movements slowing but not stopping, dragging out her pleasure as long as possible.
"Fuck," she gasps when she can finally speak again. "Fuck, that was..."
"Yeah," you agree, because you don't have better words either.
You're still rock hard between her thighs, your cock throbbing with the need to cum. She must feel it because she shifts slightly, pulling back just enough to look down between your bodies.
"You're close too," she observes, and it's not a question.
"I'm fine," you lie, even though your whole body is screaming for release.
She reaches down and wraps her hand around your cock again, stroking you slowly. The slide is easy with how wet you are from her, and you groan despite yourself. "Cum on my legs," she says softly. "Go ahead. You earned it."
You obey, because there’s simply no way not to. You let go of her ass and wrap your own hand around your cock, jacking yourself fast and rough while she watches. It only takes a few strokes before you're cumming hard, your release shooting out in thick ropes that paint her thighs and drip down her legs. She doesn't flinch away, just stands there and lets you mark her.
When you're finally done, both of you are breathing hard and covered in each other's fluids. Lip looks down at herself, at your cum dripping down her legs, mixing with her own wetness, and she doesn't look disgusted or regretful. She just looks satisfied.
"I'm not cleaning up," she says after a moment, looking down at her cum-covered legs with something like wonder. "Not yet, anyway." Her fingers trail through the sticky mess coating her thighs, spreading it slightly. "This is my first time feeling hot cum on my skin like this. I want to enjoy it for a bit."
She pulls her panties and jeans back up carefully, the fabric sticking slightly to the cum still coating her legs, and buttons them with steady fingers. You do the same with your own clothes.
"That was really good," she says once you're both decent again. She meets your eyes, and her expression is softer now. "Thank you. You're a really good friend."
The word friend sounds hollow now. But you don’t call her out on it. "Anytime," you say, and then immediately want to take it back because that sounds like an invitation for this to become a regular thing.
Lip smirks like she knows exactly what you're thinking. "I'll hold you to that." She moves past you toward the door, pausing with her hand on the handle. "And hey. For the record? I don't actually think you like Choerry more than me. I was just..." She trails off, looking uncertain for the first time since she barged in here.
"I know," you tell her. "It's okay."
She nods, gives you one last lingering look, and then she's gone, slipping out into the hallway and leaving you alone with the evidence of what you just did and the growing certainty that this situation is spiraling completely out of your control.
—
It becomes constant after that, a rhythm you all fall into without ever actually discussing it.
Throughout the rest of the tour, one of them finds you almost daily. Sometimes it's Choerry dragging you into a bathroom between sound checks, sometimes it's Lip cornering you in the tour bus when everyone else is asleep. They get creative with it, learning exactly what works, what gets them off fastest when time is limited. You use every part of your body to satisfy them, and they use every part of theirs on you.
Choerry discovers she can get off just from grinding on your thigh, straddling your leg while you're both still mostly clothed and riding it until she soaks through her shorts. She does it in a venue hallway once, twenty minutes before showtime, her face buried in your neck to muffle her moans while staff walked past the corner you were hidden behind. When she came she bit down on your shoulder hard enough to leave marks, and you had to wear high necked shirts for a week to hide them.
Lip figures out that she loves your fingers, loves the way you can curl them inside her and hit that spot that makes her see stars. She starts seeking you out specifically for that, pulling you into empty dressing rooms and spreading her legs without preamble. "Don't tease," she'll say, already breathless before you've even touched her. "Just make me cum." And you do, finger fucking her hard and fast while your thumb works her clit, watching her gorgeous face twist with pleasure as she falls apart. She squirts almost every time, soaking your hand and whatever surface she's sitting on, and she never looks embarrassed about it anymore.
They both become addicted to your mouth. Choerry likes it rough, your face buried between her legs while she grinds against you and pulls your hair. Lip likes it slower, building her up until she's shaking and begging before you finally let her cum. You learn their bodies better than you know your own, learn exactly how much pressure to use, exactly when to speed up or slow down, exactly what filthy things to say that will push them over the edge.
You use your cock too, but never inside them. Choerry loves titfucks, pushing her breasts together around your shaft and watching you fuck them until you cum all over her chest and neck. Lip discovers she can get off just from feeling your cock sliding between her ass cheeks, the pressure against her rim and the friction against her pussy beneath making her cum so hard she nearly blacks out. You rub yourself against every part of them, their thighs, their stomachs, their feet when they're feeling particularly desperate. Choerry gives you a footjob once that's so unexpectedly hot you cum in under five minutes, and she looks unreasonably proud of herself after.
The good thing is it really works. You can see the difference in them after they cum, the way the tension bleeds out of their bodies, the way they can actually focus and smile and be present instead of being consumed by that constant aching need. They're noticeably more satisfied, more like themselves, and that makes you feel good. Makes you feel useful, like you're actually helping instead of just enabling something dangerous.
But somewhere along the way, something shifts. The relationship between the three of you changes in ways that are hard to explain, subtle but undeniable. It stops feeling like you're just helping friends in need and starts feeling like... something else. You start thinking about them constantly when they're not around, start getting hard at random times just from remembering the sounds they make. You catch yourself looking for them in crowds, your heart rate picking up when you spot one of them across a room.
And the breeding talk. God, the breeding talk. Choerry never stops doing it, gets more graphic with it as time goes on. "Want you to knock me up," she'll gasp while you're fingering her. "Want your cum in my womb, want you to get me pregnant, breed me, fuck a baby into me." At first you told her to stop, that it wasn't helping, but she was right when she said it had gotten into your head. Because now you think about it too. Imagine what it would feel like to actually fuck her, to push inside that tight wet heat and fill her up the way her body is screaming for. Imagine her belly swelling with your baby, her breasts getting fuller, her whole body changing because of what you put inside her.
It stops being just her fantasy and becomes yours too, and that scares the shit out of you.
Lip is more subtle about it but you catch hints of the same obsession. "Bet you'd feel so good inside me," she'll whisper against your ear while she's stroking your cock. "Bet you'd fill me up so perfectly." She'll position your cock right at her entrance sometimes when you're between her thighs, not pushing it in but just letting the head press against her opening, teasing you both with what you can't have. "Just the tip," she'll suggest, breathless and desperate. "Just for a second. I won't let you go deeper." But you both know that's a lie, know that the second you breach her you won't be able to stop, so you never let yourself start.
It feels like you're all addicted, all three of you, caught in this feedback loop where satisfying the need just creates more need. You're not helping them anymore. You're just as trapped as they are.
When the tour finally ends, you think maybe you'll get a break. Some distance to clear your head and remember what normal feels like. You go back to your apartment and try to settle into regular life, but it feels hollow and boring. You jerk off three times a day thinking about them and it's never enough. Your whole body feels like it's waiting for something.
A week passes. Then one evening there's a knock on your door, and when you open it, Choerry is standing there.
She's wearing a sundress, blue and flowy and innocent looking except for the way it hugs her curves. Her hair is down, slightly messy like she's been running her hands through it.
"Hey," she says, and her voice is a little breathless like she ran up the stairs.
"Choerry." You're frozen in the doorway, your brain trying to catch up with the fact that she's here, at your apartment, without warning. "What are you..."
"I miss you," she says simply. She takes a step closer, into your space, and you can smell her perfume. "I've been going crazy this past week. I tried to handle it myself but it's not the same. Nothing feels as good as you."
You should close the door. But you just stand there while she pushes past you into your apartment, looking around, acting with a nonchalance that simply doesn't fit the moment.
"Choerry, you can't just..."
She turns to face you. "I'm tired of resisting," she says. "I need you to really fuck me. Not just the half measures we've been doing. I need your cock inside me."
"That's a terrible idea. You know what'll happen."
"I'll get pregnant. Yeah, I know." She says it so casually that it unsettles you a little. "That's the whole point. That's what my body needs to finally be normal again."
"Your career," you start, but she cuts you off.
"I'm taking a break. I'll figure out how to manage things as they come. Make up some excuse or just... I don't know, I'll deal with it." She moves closer again, reaching out to touch your chest. "But right now, I need you. Would you do that for me? Please?"
You should think about the consequences, about what this will mean for her future, for all your futures. But she's right that the breeding talk has gotten into your head, that you've been obsessing over this exact scenario for weeks now. And standing here with her looking up at you with those desperate, pleading eyes, you can't remember a single reason why you should resist.
"Yeah," you hear yourself say. "Yeah, okay."
The smile that breaks across her face is radiant, pure joy and relief. "Thank god," she breathes. "I was so worried you'd say no." She grabs your hand, tugging you toward the hallway. "Take me to your room. I've been horny all day thinking about this. Already came twice this morning just imagining you finally fucking me for real."
You let her pull you down the hall to your bedroom. She's really here. You're really going to do this. You're going to fuck Choerry, breed her like she's been begging for, get her pregnant and change both your lives forever.
When you reach your room she turns to you, her fingers find the straps of her sundress and she slides them down her shoulders slowly, letting the fabric pool at her feet. Underneath she's wearing a matching set, pale pink lace that contrasts beautifully with her skin. Her bra pushes her breasts up, creating cleavage that makes your mouth water, and her panties are already visibly damp at the crotch. She's so fucking beautiful standing there that for a moment you just stare.
"Your turn," she says, and there's a hint of impatience in her voice that snaps you out of it.
You strip faster than you ever have in your life, yanking your shirt over your head and shoving your pants down your legs. Your boxers tent obscenely with how hard you are, and when you see Choerry's eyes drop to your crotch and her tongue dart out to wet her lips, it makes your cock throb. You're both standing there in just underwear now.
She crosses the distance between you and crashes her mouth against yours, kissing you with bruising intensity. Her hands are everywhere, sliding over your chest and shoulders, mapping the muscles there like she's trying to memorize you through touch. You kiss her back just as desperately, your tongue pushing into her mouth to taste her properly.
Your hands find her waist and you walk her backward toward the bed, never breaking the kiss. When the backs of her knees hit the mattress she sits, then lies back, and you follow her down. Your body covers hers, skin against skin except for the thin barriers of fabric still between you. She wraps her legs around your waist instinctively, pulling you closer, and the heat of her pussy radiates through both your underwear to press against your cock.
You need her naked. Need to see all of her, touch all of her. Your hands slide up her sides to the band of her bra and you try to find the clasp, but your fingers are shaking and clumsy with need. Fuck it. You grab the fabric between her breasts and pull hard, the sound of ripping lace loud in the quiet of your room. The cups fall away and her breasts bounce free, perfect handfuls topped with hard pink nipples.
"Jesus," she gasps, but she's smiling. "Impatient much?"
"You have no idea," you mutter, and lean down to kiss her neck.
Her skin is soft under your lips, the pulse point beating rapidly. You suck hard enough to leave a mark, then move lower, trailing kisses down her throat and across her collarbone. She arches beneath you, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair. When you finally reach her breast and take the nipple into your mouth, she lets out this beautiful broken moan that goes straight to your cock.
You suck hard, your tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, and her whole body responds. Her hips start moving beneath you, grinding her pussy against the hard length of your cock through your underwear. The friction is maddening, not enough but too much at the same time. You switch to her other breast, giving it the same attention, and her grinding gets more insistent.
"God, you're so good at that," she sighs, her fingers tightening in your hair. "You're the best friend in the world, you know that? Taking such good care of me."
The word friend should feel wrong given what you're about to do, but somehow it makes it hotter. You're going to fuck your friend, breed your friend, get her pregnant because she needs it and you need it and nothing else matters anymore. You release her nipple with a wet pop and sit up, hooking your fingers in the waistband of her panties.
"Lift up," you tell her, and she does, raising her hips so you can slide the soaked fabric down her legs.
Her pussy is bare and glistening, her inner lips swollen and flushed dark pink. You can see how wet she is, arousal coating her thighs and dripping down to her ass. She spreads her legs wider without being asked, shameless and eager, presenting herself to you.
"Your turn," she says breathlessly, her eyes fixed on your crotch.
You stand just long enough to shove your boxers down, your cock springing free and bobbing in front of you. It's achingly hard, the head flushed dark and leaking precum. Choerry's eyes go wide and hungry.
You climb back onto the bed and grab both her legs behind the knees, spreading them wide and pushing them up toward her chest. The position opens her completely, her pussy on full display, her entrance visibly clenching around nothing. You position yourself between her thighs, one hand wrapping around your cock to guide it. When you press the head against her entrance, she's so wet that it slides against her without catching.
You adjust your angle and push forward, slow and steady, and the head of your cock breaches her. The sensation is overwhelming, tight and hot and slick, her walls gripping you like a fist. Choerry's eyes literally roll back in her head, her mouth falling open on a silent gasp.
"Oh fuck," she finally manages. "Perfect. You're perfect."
You sink deeper, inch by inch, watching your cock disappear into her body. She's so tight that you have to work for it, pulling back slightly before pushing in deeper with each stroke. Her pussy stretches around you, taking you so well, and the feeling is like nothing you've experienced. Every nerve ending in your cock is firing, pleasure racing up your spine.
"I waited so long for this," Choerry whimpers, her hands clutching at the sheets. "So fucking long."
When you finally bottom out, your hips flush against hers, both of you groan. You can feel her everywhere, her walls pulsing around your length, so full of you that there's no space left. You stay there for a moment, buried to the hilt inside your friend, and just breathe.
"Start fucking me," she says. "Please, before I cry from how good this feels. Just fuck me."
You obey, pulling back until just the head remains inside her, then pushing back in with one smooth stroke. Her pussy is so slick that the glide is effortless, and the friction is perfect. You do it again, establishing a rhythm, slow and deep, making sure she feels every inch of you.
"Yes, just like that," she moans, her legs still spread wide in your grip. "God, your cock feels so good."
You watch where you're joined, watching your cock slide in and out of her, coated in her arousal. It's obscene and beautiful, the way her pussy grips you, the way her lips drag along your shaft. You can see her clit peeking out from its hood, swollen and begging for attention, but you ignore it for now. Just focus on the feeling of being inside her, of finally giving her what she needs.
"Harder," she gasps. "You don't have to be gentle. I need it."
You adjust your grip on her legs and pick up the pace, driving into her with more force. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, and you can't look away from them, mesmerized by the way they move.
"Touch them," she says, noticing where your attention is. "Play with my tits while you fuck me."
You shift your weight, still holding one of her legs up while your free hand goes to her breast. You palm it roughly, squeezing the soft flesh, then pinch her nipple between your fingers. She cries out, her pussy clenching hard around your cock in response.
"Fuck yes, just like that," she pants. "Pull on it."
You do, tugging her nipple until her back arches off the bed. Her hands come up to grab your wrist, not to stop you but to hold you there, encouraging you to be rougher. You give her what she wants, alternating between her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples while you fuck her steadily.
"You have no idea how many times I've gotten off thinking about this," Choerry admits between moans. "Every time you ate me out, every time I felt your cock between my thighs, all I could think about was this. Your cock inside me, stretching me, filling me up."
Her dirty talk sends a jolt of arousal through you. "Yeah?"
"God yes. I'd go back to my room after and finger myself, pretending it was you. But my fingers are so much smaller, they never felt as good as this." She looks up at you with hazy eyes. "Nothing's ever felt as good as your cock."
You thrust harder, deeper, and she gasps. "You like that?"
"I love it," she whimpers. "Love feeling you so deep inside me. Can you feel how wet I am? That's all for you. My pussy's been dripping all day knowing I was finally going to get fucked."
You release her leg and let both of them wrap around your waist, changing the angle so you can lean down and kiss her. She kisses back messily, all tongue and teeth, her hands sliding up your back and digging her nails in. You fuck her through the kiss, your hips driving forward in steady rhythm, and she moans into your mouth.
"Touch my clit," she gasps against your lips. "Please, I need it."
You slide one hand between your bodies, finding the swollen bud and circling it with your fingers. She jerks beneath you, her pussy clenching hard.
"Oh shit, yes, right there."
You rub her clit in time with your thrusts, building a rhythm that has her writhing beneath you. Her nails dig harder into your back, probably leaving marks, but you don't care. All you care about is the feeling of her tight pussy wrapped around your cock and the gorgeous sounds she's making.
"You're taking me so well," you tell her, and her eyes flutter. "Such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this."
"I'm your good girl," she agrees breathlessly. "Your good girl who needs to be bred.”
You pick up your pace, your hips snapping forward faster now, driving your cock into her with increasing force. The change makes Choerry's eyes go wide, her mouth dropping open as she tries to process the new intensity. Her legs tighten around your waist, heels digging into your lower back, urging you deeper even though there's nowhere left to go.
"Oh my god," she gasps. "Oh my god, that's so good, don't stop."
You fuck her harder, faster, the bed starting to creak beneath you with the force of your movements. Her breasts bounce wildly with each thrust, and you can feel the way her pussy is gripping you tighter now, her walls fluttering around your length in a way that feels incredible. Sweat is building on both your bodies, making your skin slide together.
"More," she begs, her nails raking down your back. "Give me more, I can take it."
You brace yourself better, one hand pressing into the mattress beside her head, and really start pounding into her. The angle lets you go deep, the head of your cock hitting something inside her that makes her practically scream. Her whole body jerks with each thrust, and she's making these desperate little whimpering sounds that drive you crazy.
"Right there," she cries. "Fuck, right there, keep hitting that spot!"
You do, aiming for that same angle with every stroke, and watching her fall apart beneath you. Her face is flushed pink, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open as she pants and moans. She looks wrecked already, completely undone, and you're not even close to finished with her.
Your hand slides between your bodies again, finding her clit and rubbing tight circles around it. The added stimulation makes her buck underneath you, her hips lifting off the bed to meet your thrusts.
"Holy shit," she gasps. "I can't... that's too much."
"You can take it," you tell her, not letting up on either the pace of your thrusts or the pressure on her clit. "You wanted this, remember? Wanted me to fuck you properly."
"Yes," she whimpers. "Yes, I did, I do, it's just so fucking good."
Her pussy is absolutely drenched now, arousal running down between her ass cheeks and soaking the sheets beneath her. Every thrust makes wet obscene sounds, and you can feel how slippery she is, coating your cock and your balls. The wetness makes everything feel even more intense, every slide of your cock into her velvet heat sending sparks up your spine.
"Tell me how it feels," you demand, rubbing her clit faster.
"Perfect," she moans. "Your cock feels perfect inside me. So thick, stretching me so good, filling me up exactly how I need." Her words are starting to slur together, like she's getting drunk on the pleasure. "I'm so full of you, can feel you everywhere, so deep inside me."
You can tell she's getting worked up, her breathing getting more ragged, her moans getting louder. Her pussy is pulsing around you in irregular rhythms now, squeezing and releasing your cock in ways that feel amazing. You keep the same brutal pace, fucking her hard and deep while your fingers work her clit relentlessly.
"This is what you needed, isn't it?" you say, and her eyes flutter open to meet yours. "Needed to be fucked like this, needed a cock inside you instead of just fingers and tongues."
"Yes," she practically sobs. "Needed it so bad, needed you so bad."
"Been thinking about breeding you," you admit. "Every time you begged for it, every time you talked about wanting my cum in your womb, I thought about it. Thought about fucking you just like this and filling you up."
Her pussy clenches hard around you, and her eyes go unfocused. "Say it again," she whimpers.
"Want to breed you," you tell her, punctuating each word with a hard thrust. "Want to pump you full of cum and get you pregnant, want to see your belly swell with my baby."
"Oh fuck," she cries, her whole body starting to tremble. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna... you're gonna make me..."
You can feel it building in her, the way her muscles are tensing, the way her pussy is getting impossibly tighter around your cock. You rub her clit even faster, harder, chasing her orgasm with single minded focus.
"Come for me," you order. "Come on my cock, Choerry. Show me how good it feels."
Her back arches sharply, her head thrown back against the pillow, and then she's coming. Her pussy clamps down on your cock like a vice, pulsing and spasming around you with incredible force. But it's not just that. Fluid gushes from her, squirting around your cock and spraying across your thighs and stomach, soaking everything. She's screaming, actual words lost in the intensity of her release, her body convulsing beneath you.
You don't stop fucking her through it. You keep thrusting, keep rubbing her clit, drawing out her orgasm as long as possible. She keeps squirting, wave after wave of it, the bed beneath her completely drenched. Her hands scrabble at your back, at the sheets, looking for something to anchor herself to as pleasure overwhelms her.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," she chants when she can finally form words again, her body still shaking with aftershocks.
You slow your thrusts but don't stop, letting her ride out the last tremors of her orgasm. When she finally stops squirting and goes limp beneath you, you pull your hand away from her oversensitive clit. She's breathing so hard she sounds like she just ran a marathon, her chest heaving and her skin glistening with sweat.
"Holy shit," she pants, staring up at you with dazed eyes. "I've never... I've never had an orgasm like that before. Never."
You're still hard inside her, your cock throbbing with need. "We're not done yet," you tell her, pulling out slowly.
She whimpers at the loss, her pussy clenching around nothing now. You can see how swollen and red she is, how thoroughly fucked she looks, and it makes your cock twitch.
"Get on all fours for me," you say.
For a second she just lies there, looking like she's not sure she can move. Then she takes a shaky breath and nods, rolling over onto her stomach before pushing herself up onto her hands and knees. The position puts her ass in the air, and you can see her pussy from behind, pink and puffy and dripping with her arousal. Her inner thighs are soaked, and there's a visible trail of wetness running down her legs.
She looks back at you over her shoulder, her hair messy and her face flushed. "Like this?" she asks.
"Perfect," you tell her, moving to kneel behind her.
You run your hands over her ass, squeezing the firm muscle and spreading her cheeks slightly. She shivers under your touch, a little whimper escaping her. Your cock is still slick with her arousal, and when you line yourself up with her entrance again, it slides in easily despite how tight she is.
You can see everything from here, can watch your cock disappear into her pussy, can see the way her body accepts you. It's incredibly hot, and you have to take a moment to just breathe and appreciate the view.
"You okay?" you ask, your hands gripping her hips.
"More than okay," she breathes. "Fuck me. Please. I want more.”
You start moving, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, and the sound she makes is pure desperation. Doggy style hits different, lets you go so much deeper, and from the way Choerry's fingers are clutching the sheets you can tell she feels it too. You set a punishing rhythm immediately, no more warm up needed, just hard deep strokes that make her whole body jolt forward with the impact.
"Fuck yes," she moans, her head dropping down between her shoulders. "Just like that, use me, fuck me as hard as you want."
You grip her hips tighter, pulling her back onto your cock with each thrust, meeting her halfway so the impact is even more intense. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, skin slapping against skin, and underneath that the wet squelch of her pussy taking you over and over. She's still so wet from her orgasm, maybe even wetter now, and it's running down her thighs and dripping onto the sheets.
Your hands slide from her hips to her ass, grabbing both cheeks and spreading them apart. The view is obscene, your cock stretching her pussy wide, her pink walls gripping you as you pull out and then swallowing you back in when you thrust forward. You can see everything, can see the way her pussy lips drag along your shaft, can see her entrance stretched tight around your girth. Above that, her other hole is on display too, tight and puckered, and you file that away for another time because right now you're completely focused on breeding her pussy.
"You like watching?" Choerry asks breathlessly, clearly feeling the way you're spreading her open. "Like seeing your cock fuck my little pussy?"
"Love it," you admit, giving her ass a sharp slap that makes her yelp. "Love watching you take every inch."
"I'll take anything you give me," she moans, pushing back against you. "Anything you want to do to me, I'm yours."
The declaration does something to you, makes you fuck her even harder. Your fingers dig into her ass hard enough to leave marks, and you use your grip to really pound into her, chasing something primal and desperate. She takes it all, her back arching to change the angle slightly, and then she's practically squealing.
"Right there, oh fuck, you're so deep like this!"
You are deep, can feel the head of your cock hitting her cervix with every thrust, and the knowledge that you're going to flood her womb with cum, that you're going to knock her up just like she's been begging for, makes everything more intense. Your balls are slapping against her clit with each stroke, and she's getting louder, more incoherent.
"This is what I needed," she gasps between moans. "Needed your cock inside me, needed to feel you so deep, needed you to breed me like the little slut I am."
Her words are filthy, shameless, and they're driving you crazy. "Yeah?" you growl, spanking her ass again. "You're my little breeding slut?"
"Yes," she cries. "Your slut, only yours, please breed me, please put a baby in me."
You lean forward, changing the angle again, one hand reaching around to find her breast. You squeeze it roughly, pinching her nipple, and she clenches around you so hard you almost lose it right there.
"Want you to pump me full," she continues, completely lost in the fantasy now. "Want to feel your hot cum flooding my pussy, filling up my womb, getting me pregnant. That's all I've wanted for so long, just to be bred, to have your baby growing inside me."
"Gonna give it to you," you promise, your rhythm starting to falter as your own orgasm builds. "Gonna fill you up so good, make sure you're knocked up."
"Yes, yes, please," she begs. "I need it, need your cum, need you to breed me properly. Want to feel it so deep inside, want you to cum directly in my womb."
Your hand slides from her breast down her stomach to her clit, and the moment you touch it she screams. You rub tight fast circles while you fuck her, and she's shaking underneath you, her arms starting to give out.
"Gonna cum again," she whimpers. "You're gonna make me cum again, oh god, don't stop."
"Come for me," you tell her, your own control slipping. "Come on my cock while I breed you."
The combination of your fingers on her clit and your cock hammering into her is too much. Her second orgasm hits her like hard, her whole body going rigid before she starts convulsing. Her pussy spasms around your cock, milking you, and she's squirting again, though not as much as before. The feeling of her coming apart around you destroys the last of your control.
"Fuck, Choerry, I'm gonna..."
"Inside," she gasps. "Cum inside me, please, I need it!"
Your orgasm slams into you and you bury yourself as deep as possible, your cock pulsing as you start to cum. The first spurt hits her cervix directly, and you can feel the pressure of it, the way your cum floods her womb. You keep coming, rope after rope of thick hot cum pumping into her, more than you've ever cum before. It feels endless, your balls emptying completely inside her, giving her exactly what her body has been screaming for.
"Oh my god," Choerry moans. "I can feel it, it's so hot, you're filling me up so much."
You are filling her up, can feel your cum leaking out around your cock because there's so much of it and nowhere for it to go. You stay buried inside her through the aftershocks, your body shaking with the intensity of your release. When you finally stop cumming you're lightheaded, breathing hard, still processing what you just did.
Choerry collapses forward onto the bed, and your softening cock slips out of her with a wet sound. Immediately cum starts leaking from her pussy, running down her thighs in thick white streams. She doesn't move to clean it up, just lies there face down with her ass still slightly elevated, letting your cum drip out of her thoroughly bred pussy.
You collapse beside her, your own body spent and satisfied. "Well," you say when you can finally speak again. "There's no going back now."
She turns her head to look at you, and the smile on her face is radiant despite how wrecked she looks. "Thank you," she says softly. "Seriously. That was exactly what I needed. Better than I even imagined."
"You think you're cured now?" you ask, genuinely curious. You just pumped her full of cum, bred her exactly like the doctors said would reset her system. Does that mean it's over?
She's quiet for a moment, like she's taking internal inventory of her body. "We'll wait and see," she finally says. "But even if I'm not... even if it takes more than once..." She reaches out and touches your face. "I'm really glad it's you."
You don't know what to say to that, so you just pull her closer, and she curls into your side, still leaking your cum onto your sheets. You just bred your friend, just potentially gotten her pregnant, and the crazy thing is you don't regret it at all. If anything, you're already thinking about doing it again.
—
After that first night, everything changes, and there's no pretending otherwise.
Choerry becomes insatiable in a way that honestly scares you a little. Not because you don't want her, but because the intensity is overwhelming. Your phone buzzes constantly with messages from her, sometimes sweet and affectionate, sometimes desperately horny, always wanting more. She shows up at your apartment unannounced at least three times a week, sometimes still in her practice clothes.
"I can't focus," she'll say, already pulling her shirt over her head before you've even fully opened the door. "I need you to fuck me right now."
And you do. You fuck her against the door, on the couch, bent over the kitchen counter with her shorts around her ankles. She's constantly wet for you, her body producing arousal like it's the only thing it knows how to do anymore. Sometimes you cum inside her twice in one session, your cock barely softening between rounds because she's grinding on you, kissing you, whispering filthy breeding talk in your ear until you're hard again.
The breeding clearly hasn't taken effect yet, hasn't cured her the way the doctors said it would, but if anything it seems to have made her libido even more intense. Like now that her body knows what it's like to have a cock inside her, to be filled with cum, it's demanding more of it constantly. She tracks her cycle obsessively even though she's supposedly always ovulating, texts you updates about how fertile she is, how ready her body is to be knocked up.
You spend an entire Saturday at her apartment, barely leaving her bedroom. You fuck her missionary in the morning, her legs wrapped around your waist as you pump her full of cum. She makes lunch while your cum drips down her thighs, refuses to clean it up because she likes feeling it leak out of her. By the afternoon you're taking her from behind again, her face pressed into the pillows while you breed her ass up. When you cum inside her that time, she immediately flips over and pulls her knees to her chest.
"Gotta make sure it stays in," she explains breathlessly, her pussy visibly leaking your cum even in that position. "Want every drop in my womb."
You fuck her again that evening, slower and more intimate, face to face with her legs over your shoulders. She comes twice before you finally fill her up again, and when you pull out there's so much cum inside her that it pours out in a thick stream.
"Three loads in one day," she says, sounding delighted and exhausted. "That has to be enough to knock me up, right?"
But it isn't. Her period comes a week later and she cries from frustration, from the realization that her body is still broken. Her doctor doesn’t know what’s wrong, but tells her to keep trying. You hold her while she sobs into your chest, then fuck her through the cramps because she says it helps, says your cock makes everything feel better.
The pattern continues. Some days you fuck her once, quick and desperate in a storage room at the company building, her hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her moans while you breed her standing up. Other days it's multiple times, marathon sessions where you lose track of how many loads you've pumped into her. Your refractory period gets shorter and shorter, your body adapting to her constant need.
You fuck her in your bed so often that your sheets perpetually smell like sex and her perfume. You fuck her in the shower, the water running over both of you while you hold her up against the tiles and thrust into her. You fuck her on your couch while watching a movie neither of you pay attention to, her riding you slowly while you play with her tits. You even fuck her in your car once, parked in a dark corner of a parking garage, her bent over the center console while you rail her from behind.
Every time you cum inside her, she sighs with satisfaction and thanks you, tells you you're such a good friend for helping her like this. The word friend has lost all meaning at this point, but neither of you acknowledge that. You're breeding your friend, filling her with cum multiple times a day, and pretending it's still just helping out.
Almost two weeks into this new arrangement, Choerry texts you late one night.
Choerry: can you come over? i have a surprise for you
You almost say no because you're exhausted, you fucked her twice earlier today and your balls need a break. But something about the message feels different, so you grab your keys and head to her place.
When she opens the door, you immediately know something's up because of the look on her face. She's excited but also nervous, biting her lip in that way she does when she's not sure how you'll react to something.
"So," she says, stepping aside to let you in. "Don't freak out, okay?"
That's when you see Kim Lip sitting on the couch, looking anywhere but at you. She's wearing comfortable clothes, leggings and an oversized hoodie, and her hair is down. She looks beautiful and uncomfortable and like she wants to disappear into the furniture.
"Lip? What..."
"I talked to her," Choerry says quickly, closing the door behind you. "About everything. About how much the breeding helped me, even though it hasn't cured me yet. And she's been struggling so bad lately, worse than before somehow, and I convinced her to try it too."
Lip finally looks at you, her expression defensive. "It's just for today," she says defensively. "Just to see if it helps. It doesn't mean anything."
You're still processing. "You want me to..."
"Breed me," Lip finishes bluntly, her cheeks flushing. "Like you've been doing with Choerry. That's what she's been bragging about for weeks, how good it feels, how much it helps even temporarily." She crosses her arms over her chest. "I'm not saying it's going to be a regular thing. This is just... an experiment."
Choerry bounces on her toes, clearly thrilled this is happening. "I told her how amazing you are, how good you make me feel. She needs it too, you can see how she's suffering."
You look at Lip properly and yeah, you can see it. The dark circles under her eyes that makeup usually hides. The tension in her shoulders. The way she's fidgeting with the edge of her hoodie. She looks like she's been going through hell.
"Are you sure about this?" you ask her, because you need to hear it from her directly.
Lip meets your eyes, and despite the defensive posture, there's desperation there. Raw, aching need. "I'm sure," she says quietly. "I need... I need what Choerry's been getting. Please.”
You let out a long breath, running a hand through your hair. This is insane, but then again everything about this situation has been insane from the start. "Yeah," you say finally. "Okay. We can try."
The relief on Lip's face is immediate, some of that defensive tension bleeding out of her shoulders. Choerry grins and grabs both your hands, pulling you toward her bedroom. The three of you file in, and there's this charged moment where nobody's quite sure how to start.
Choerry breaks the tension by just doing what she always does, no hesitation or shame. She pulls her shirt over her head, tosses it aside, then shimmies out of her shorts and panties in one smooth motion. She's completely naked in seconds, comfortable in her skin in a way that makes this feel almost normal.
Lip watches her, then looks at you, then starts undressing too. She's slower about it, more self-conscious, pulling her hoodie off to reveal a simple black bra. Her leggings come next, rolled down her legs carefully, and then she's standing there in matching black underwear looking vulnerable and beautiful.
You strip down too, leaving just your boxers on for now. Your cock is already starting to respond to the situation, to having two gorgeous women mostly naked in front of you, and you can see the outline of it against the fabric.
Choerry notices immediately and approaches you with that confident stride. "Let's get you ready," she says, her hand reaching out to palm you through your boxers. Her touch is familiar now, and your cock hardens further under her attention. "Gotta get you nice and wet for Lip."
She squeezes you gently, her fingers tracing the shape of your shaft through the cotton. You sit down on the edge of the bed and she follows, kneeling in front of you. The position is one you've been in dozens of times now, but having Lip watching makes it different.
"Come here," Choerry says, looking at Lip. "Help me."
Lip hesitates, then moves closer and kneels beside Choerry. They're both on their knees in front of you now, and the visual alone is enough to make your cock throb. Choerry hooks her fingers in the waistband of your boxers and looks up at you with those big dark eyes.
"Lift up for a second."
You do, and she pulls your boxers down your thighs, freeing your cock. It springs out, already mostly hard, and you hear Lip's small intake of breath. Choerry tosses your boxers aside and immediately wraps her hand around your shaft, stroking you slowly.
"God, I've missed this," Choerry murmurs, even though you literally fucked her this morning. Her hand moves with confidence, knowing exactly how much pressure you like, twisting slightly at the head on each upstroke.
Lip is watching intently, her eyes fixed on Choerry's hand moving on your cock. You can see her chest rising and falling faster, see the way she's pressing her thighs together.
Choerry leans in and licks a long stripe up the underside of your shaft, from base to tip, then swirls her tongue around the head. Your hips jerk slightly at the sensation. She does it again, getting you slick with her saliva, then takes just the tip into her mouth and sucks gently.
"Fuck," you breathe, your hand going to her hair.
She pulls off with a wet sound, your cock glistening with her spit. She strokes you a few more times, then turns to Lip with an encouraging smile. "Your turn. He tastes good, I promise."
Lip swallows visibly, then leans forward. She's tentative about it, her tongue darting out to lick the head of your cock experimentally. The touch is feather-light and it makes you twitch in Choerry's hand. Lip pulls back slightly, processing, then leans in again with more confidence. This time she opens her mouth and takes the head inside, her lips wrapping around you.
The wet heat of her mouth is incredible. You groan, your fingers tightening in Choerry's hair. Lip's tongue moves against the underside of your cock, exploring, learning the taste and texture of you. She doesn't take you deep, just works the first few inches, but the hesitant eagerness of it is somehow hotter than if she'd been confident.
"That's it," Choerry encourages. "You're doing so good. Use your tongue more, he loves that."
Lip follows the instruction, her tongue flattening against your shaft and dragging along it as she bobs her head. She's a quick learner, and within a minute she's establishing a rhythm, taking you a bit deeper with each stroke. Her hand comes up to wrap around the base where her mouth can't reach, and she starts stroking in time with her sucking.
Choerry watches for a moment, clearly pleased, then leans in to join her. She licks along the side of your shaft while Lip has the head in her mouth, adding more wetness, more sensation. When Lip pulls off to breathe, Choerry immediately takes over, swallowing you down much deeper, her nose nearly touching your pelvis.
"Jesus, Choerry," you gasp. She knows exactly what she's doing, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard as she pulls back, her tongue working the underside the whole time.
She releases you and guides your cock toward Lip again. "Try taking it deeper this time."
Lip nods and opens her mouth, accepting your cock again. This time she pushes further, taking you halfway before she gags slightly and has to pull back. She tries again, breathing through her nose, and manages to get a bit deeper. Saliva is coating your cock now, dripping down your shaft and making everything slippery and messy.
The two of them start working in tandem, passing your cock back and forth between them. Choerry will take you deep and fast for a few strokes, getting you worked up, then pass you to Lip who goes slower and more exploratory. Sometimes they both lick you at the same time, their tongues meeting around your shaft, occasionally brushing against each other.
"Share it," you tell them.
They both lean in, Choerry taking one side of your cock and Lip taking the other. They lick up and down your length simultaneously, their mouths and tongues working together to cover every inch. When they reach the tip at the same time, their tongues swirl around the head together, and the image of it nearly breaks you.
Lip is getting more aggressive now, more hungry. Whatever hesitation she had at the start is melting away. She's making soft moaning sounds as she sucks you, like the act itself is turning her on. Her free hand slides down her own body to press between her legs, rubbing herself through her panties.
Choerry notices and grins. "You like sucking cock, huh? I knew you would."
Lip pulls off just long enough to respond. "It's bigger than I expected," she admits breathlessly. "Feels so good in my mouth."
She dives back in, this time taking you deep enough that you feel the back of her throat. She gags but doesn't pull off, just holds you there for a moment before retreating. There are tears gathering in the corners of her eyes from the effort, but she looks determined.
Choerry takes over again, jerking your shaft while she sucks hard on just the tip. "Look how wet we got you," she says, pulling back to admire the way your cock is absolutely drenched in their combined saliva. "Perfect for breeding."
The word makes Lip shiver visibly. She licks her lips, staring at your cock like she's starving for it. "I need it," she says quietly. "Need to feel this inside me."
Choerry releases your cock and sits back on her heels, pleased with their work. Your shaft is throbbing, slick and shiny, ready for what comes next. Both girls are flushed and breathing hard, their lips swollen and wet.
"He's ready for you now," Choerry says to Lip. "Ready to breed you properly.”
You reach out your hand to Lip and she takes it, her fingers trembling slightly against yours. You help her up onto the bed and lie back against the pillows, pulling her with you. She climbs over you carefully, straddling your hips, and the sight of her like this makes your breath catch. Her body is incredible, petite but curvy in all the right places, slightly toned from years of dancing. Her breasts are small and perky, her waist narrow, her hips flaring out beautifully. She's still wearing her bra and panties, and you reach up to unhook the bra while she watches your face.
The clasp comes free and she lets the straps slide down her arms, exposing her breasts to you. They're gorgeous, pale and soft with dusty pink nipples already hard from arousal. You cup them in your hands, thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks, and she makes this soft whimpering sound.
"Need these off too," you tell her, tugging at her panties.
She lifts up slightly and shimmies them down her thighs, kicking them off awkwardly. Now she's completely bare above you, her pussy hovering over your cock. You can see how wet she is, arousal glistening on her inner thighs, and the knowledge that she's this turned on just from sucking you makes your cock pulse.
Choerry climbs onto the bed beside you, clearly excited to watch this unfold. She's completely naked and unbothered by it, settling in close enough that her thigh presses against your side. Her hand trails over your chest possessively, but her eyes are fixed on Lip.
Lip reaches down between her legs, wrapping her fingers around your shaft to position you. She holds your cock steady against her entrance, and you can feel the heat of her pussy radiating against the sensitive head. She takes a deep breath, steadying herself, and then starts to sink down.
The initial breach makes you both gasp. Her pussy is incredibly tight, resisting at first, and you can see the concentration on her face as she works to take you. She goes slow, lowering herself inch by careful inch, her walls stretching around your girth. When she's taken about half of you she pauses, breathing hard.
"How does it feel?" Choerry asks.
Lip's eyes are squeezed shut, her mouth open as she processes the sensations. "Amazing," she finally manages, clearly overwhelmed. "It's so much. So full already and you're not even all the way in."
"You're doing so good," Choerry tells her. "Just take your time. You'll get used to it."
Lip nods and continues sinking down, taking more of your cock inside her. The sensation is unbelievable, her tight heat enveloping you slowly, her walls gripping you like a vice. She's so wet that despite the tightness you slide in smoothly, and when she finally bottoms out, fully seated on your cock with her ass resting on your thighs, all three of you let out shaky breaths.
"Oh my god," Lip whimpers, her hands bracing on your chest. "I can feel you everywhere. So deep."
You can see the slight bulge in her lower abdomen where your cock is pressing against her from inside, and the visual is obscene and perfect. Your hands come up to grip her waist, fingers splaying across her skin.
"Take a minute," you tell her. "Let your body adjust."
She nods, just sitting there impaled on you, her internal muscles fluttering and clenching as she gets used to the intrusion. You can feel every pulse, every tiny adjustment, and it's taking all your self control not to thrust up into her. This is her first time with a cock inside her, her first time feeling this kind of fullness, and you want to let her set the pace.
After a moment she experimentally lifts herself slightly, just an inch or so, then sinks back down. The friction makes her gasp, and she does it again, a little higher this time. She's starting to move, establishing a slow rhythm, rising and falling on your cock with increasing confidence.
"That's it," Choerry encourages, her hand sliding up Lip's spine. "Ride him just like that. Find what feels good."
Lip's movements get more fluid as she finds her rhythm. She's rising until just the tip remains inside, then dropping back down to take you fully, and the slide of her tight pussy along your shaft is incredible. Her breasts bounce slightly with each movement, drawing your attention, but before you can reach for them Choerry is already there.
Choerry shifts closer, kneeling beside you both, and cups one of Lip's breasts in her hand. She leans in and takes the nipple into her mouth, sucking gently at first and then harder. Lip's back arches, pushing her chest toward Choerry's mouth, and a moan escapes her.
"Fuck, that feels so good," Lip gasps, her rhythm faltering for a moment.
Your hands on her waist help guide her, keeping her moving even as Choerry's attention on her breasts makes her lose focus. You pull her down as she drops, helping her take you deeper, and the change in angle makes her cry out. Choerry switches to the other breast, giving it the same treatment, her tongue flicking over the hardened peak before she sucks it between her lips.
Lip is getting more confident now, rolling her hips as she rides you, grinding her clit against your pelvis when she's fully seated. The added stimulation is clearly working for her, you can feel her getting wetter, can hear the obscene wet sounds of her pussy sliding on your cock.
"You look so hot taking his cock," Choerry murmurs against Lip's skin, pressing kisses along the curve of her breast. "Been watching you for weeks wondering when you'd finally let him breed you."
"Feels better than I imagined," Lip admits breathlessly. "Can't believe I waited this long."
She's picking up speed now, bouncing on your cock with more enthusiasm. Her petite body moves beautifully above you, all graceful lines and feminine curves. You grip her waist tighter, helping lift her, and start thrusting up to meet her downward movements. The change makes her falter, overwhelmed by the new intensity.
"Oh fuck, yes, just like that," she moans, her head falling back.
Choerry releases Lip's breast and moves behind her instead, pressing against her back. Her hands come around to cup both of Lip's breasts, kneading them and pinching the nipples. Then she's kissing Lip's neck, sucking on the sensitive skin just below her ear, and Lip practically melts.
"Kiss her properly," you suggest.
Choerry grins and turns Lip's face toward her, capturing her mouth in a kiss. Lip responds immediately, one of her hands coming up to tangle in Choerry's hair. They kiss deeply, tongues visible between their parted lips, while Lip continues riding your cock. The sight of them kissing while Lip fucks herself on you is almost too much to handle.
You thrust up harder, driving deeper, and Lip breaks the kiss to cry out. "Shit, so deep, you're hitting everything."
"That's your cervix," Choerry explains, one hand sliding down Lip's stomach. "He's big enough to reach it. Feels good, right?"
"Feels insane," Lip gasps. "Like he's in my stomach."
Choerry's hand reaches Lip's mound and slides lower, fingers seeking out her clit. The moment she makes contact Lip jerks, nearly losing her rhythm entirely. Choerry rubs gentle circles while Lip continues bouncing on your cock, adding another layer of stimulation.
"Too much," Lip whimpers, but she doesn't ask Choerry to stop.
"You can take it," Choerry assures her, kissing her shoulder. "Your body was made for this, made to be bred. Just let it feel good."
Lip's movements are getting erratic now, driven by sensation rather than conscious thought. She grinds down hard, swivels her hips, then rises up fast only to slam back down. Her pussy is soaking your cock and balls, running down to wet the sheets beneath you. The sounds she's making are desperate and needy, little whimpers and gasps that go straight to your cock.
You're thrusting up harder now too, meeting her movements with force, and the room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Your fingers dig into her waist hard enough to leave marks, using your grip to control her pace. Choerry keeps working Lip's clit, keeps kissing her neck and shoulders and occasionally her mouth, and Lip is completely surrounded by sensation.
"This is what you needed," Choerry whispers against Lip's ear. "Needed his cock inside you, stretching you, filling you up. Gonna feel even better when he breeds you, when he pumps you full of cum."
Lip moans at the words, her pussy clenching tight around you. "Want it," she admits. "Want him to fill me up, want to feel it."
"You will," Choerry promises. "He's gonna flood your pussy, gonna pump it directly into your womb. You're gonna feel so full and satisfied."
The dirty talk is clearly affecting Lip, her movements getting more frantic as she chases something building inside her. You can feel it too, the way her walls are starting to pulse irregularly, the way her breathing is getting more ragged.
Lip's pace becomes frantic, all pretense of control abandoned as she chases the building pressure inside her. She's slamming herself down on your cock now, hard and fast, her small breasts bouncing wildly with the force of her movements. Her face is twisted in concentration and desperation, sweat beading on her forehead and running down between her breasts. The wet slap of her ass hitting your thighs echoes through the room.
Choerry keeps her fingers working on Lip's clit, rubbing tight fast circles that make Lip's whole body shake. Her other hand is still playing with Lip's breast, pinching and rolling the nipple. She leans in close to Lip's ear, murmuring softly:
"Imagine how good it's gonna feel when he breeds you," Choerry murmurs. "When his cock starts pulsing inside you and he floods your pussy with hot cum. It's gonna fill you up so much, pump directly into your womb where you need it most."
Lip whimpers, her rhythm getting even more erratic. "I want it," she gasps between bounces. "Want him to breed me, need it so bad."
"Tell him," Choerry encourages. "Tell him what you need."
Lip's eyes lock onto yours, dark and desperate and completely unguarded. "Please," she begs. "Please breed me, fill me up with your cum. I need it inside me, need you to pump my pussy full. Want to feel it so deep, want you to knock me up just like you've been doing to Choerry."
The words coming from Lip's mouth are so filthy, so unlike her usual controlled demeanor, and they send a surge of arousal through you. Your hands tighten on her waist and you thrust up harder, driving as deep as you can reach.
"Gonna give you everything," you promise. "Gonna flood your tight little pussy with so much cum you'll feel it for days."
"Yes," she cries, grinding down hard. "Give it to me, breed me, make me yours."
Choerry's fingers speed up on Lip's clit and suddenly Lip is screaming, her whole body going rigid. Her pussy clamps down on your cock like a vice, pulsing and spasming uncontrollably. Before you can process what's happening she's lifting herself up abruptly, your cock sliding free of her, and then she's squirting. Fluid gushes from her pussy in powerful spurts, spraying across your stomach and chest, soaking you completely. She's shaking violently, her mouth open in a silent scream as wave after wave of her release pours out of her.
"Oh fuck yes," Choerry laughs delightedly, her hand still working Lip's clit to prolong the squirting. "Look at you, making such a mess. So fucking hot."
Lip keeps squirting, her whole body convulsing with the intensity of her orgasm. It seems to go on forever, fluid coating your skin and the sheets beneath you, until finally the spurts become a trickle and she collapses forward onto your chest. She's trembling all over, gasping for air, her skin flushed and covered in sweat.
"Holy shit," she manages after a moment. "I've never... that was..."
"Intense?" Choerry supplies, grinning. She looks at you over Lip's shoulder. "Don't waste any time. Her pussy's gonna be so sensitive right now, perfect for fucking. Take advantage of it."
You nod, already moving. You gently roll Lip off you and onto her side on the bed. She's still trembling from the aftershocks, barely coherent, but when you position yourself between her legs she spreads them for you instinctively. You grab her top leg behind the knee and lift it up, placing her ankle on your shoulder. The position opens her up completely, her swollen pussy on full display, pink and glistening and absolutely drenched.
You line your cock up with her entrance and push inside in one smooth thrust, burying yourself to the hilt. Lip's reaction is immediate and intense. She screams, her back arching off the bed, her hands scrabbling at the sheets. Her pussy is incredibly tight and impossibly sensitive from her orgasm, and you can feel every flutter and clench around your shaft.
"Oh god, oh god, too much, it's too much!" she cries, but her hips are rocking up to meet you, taking you deeper despite her words.
"You can take it," you tell her, starting to move. You pull almost all the way out and slam back in, setting a hard deep rhythm right from the start. "Your body needs this, needs to be bred properly."
"Yes," she sobs, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes from the overwhelming sensation. "More, please, fuck me harder, breed me, I need it!"
The position lets you go incredibly deep, the angle perfect for hitting all her most sensitive spots. With her leg on your shoulder you have complete control, one hand gripping her thigh to keep her spread open, the other bracing on the bed beside her. You fuck her hard and fast, driving into her sensitive pussy without mercy, and she takes every brutal thrust while screaming her pleasure.
Choerry is beside you both, watching with hungry eyes, one hand between her own legs rubbing her pussy. "Look how well you're taking his cock," she says to Lip. "Like you were made for it. Like your pussy was designed to be bred."
"Feels so good," Lip whimpers, her hands coming up to grab her own breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples. "Stretching me so much, so deep inside me, I can feel every inch."
You adjust the angle slightly and start hitting her cervix with every thrust, the head of your cock kissing that tight ring of muscle at the deepest part of her. Lip's reaction is explosive, her body jerking with each impact, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Right there," she screams. "Fuck, you're hitting my cervix, it's so intense, don't stop!"
"That's where my cum's going," you tell her, punctuating each word with a hard thrust. "Gonna pump it directly into your womb, fill you up until you're overflowing."
"Please," she begs, completely gone now, all her bratty defenses stripped away. "Please breed me, knock me up, make me pregnant. I don't care anymore, I just need your cum inside me."
Her pussy is making obscene wet sounds with each thrust, so slick that there's no friction at all, just smooth perfect glide. More fluid is leaking from her, not quite squirting but a constant stream of arousal that's coating your cock and balls and dripping down to pool beneath her ass. She's absolutely soaking, her body producing it endlessly.
You shift your grip on her thigh, pushing her leg further back toward her chest, folding her almost in half. The new angle lets you go even deeper, and Lip's eyes roll back in her head. You're fucking her brutally now, your hips slamming against her ass with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin combining with her screams and moans.
"Such a tight little pussy," you growl, watching your cock disappear into her over and over. "Gripping me so perfectly. Gonna feel even better when I'm pumping you full of cum."
"Want it," she sobs. "Want to feel it filling me up, want you to breed me like the desperate slut I am."
Choerry leans over and kisses Lip messily, swallowing her moans. Her hand comes down to rub Lip's clit again, adding another layer of stimulation. Lip breaks the kiss to scream, her whole body shaking with sensation.
"Too much, I can't, gonna cum again," Lip babbles.
"Then cum," Choerry tells her. "Cum all over his cock while he fucks you. Show him how good he makes you feel."
Your rhythm doesn't falter, just keeps pounding into Lip's oversensitive pussy, chasing the build of pressure in your own body but holding back. Lip's walls are starting to pulse irregularly again, her breathing getting more ragged, and you know she's getting close to another orgasm. Her hands are everywhere, grabbing at the sheets, at her breasts, at your arm, looking for something to anchor herself to as pleasure overwhelms her.
"Breed me," she keeps chanting between gasps. "Breed me, breed me, please, I need it so bad.”
But you need a better angle, need to see her face while you fuck her. You shift your position, lowering her leg from your shoulder and moving more on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. It's almost missionary now, your body covering hers. You can see every expression that crosses her face, every flutter of her eyelids, every time her mouth falls open on a moan.
Your cock slides back into her and the new angle makes her gasp. You're still going deep but there's more pressure against her front wall now, hitting different spots. You brace yourself on one arm beside her head and start fucking her with powerful thrusts, your hips driving forward relentlessly. Lip's hands come up to clutch at your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin.
"Look at me," you command, and her eyes snap to yours.
She's completely wrecked, her face flushed and tear-streaked, her hair a mess, her lips swollen from kissing. She looks absolutely beautiful like this, all her usual composure gone, replaced by raw desperate need. You watch her face contort with pleasure as you fuck her, watch the way her eyes try to stay focused on yours but keep rolling back when you hit particularly deep.
Your free hand slides up her body, between her breasts, up to her throat. Your fingers wrap around her neck, not squeezing yet, just resting there. The moment she feels it, Lip's eyes go wide and her pussy clenches hard around your cock.
"Yes," she moans. "Do it. Choke me."
You apply pressure, not enough to cut off her air completely but enough to restrict it, to make her feel controlled and owned. Her reaction is immediate and intense. Her whole body arches beneath you, her pussy getting impossibly tighter, and the moan that escapes her is strangled and desperate.
Choerry laughs from beside you, delighted. "Look at you being such a slut," she says to Lip. "Acting so tough, playing hard to get, when really all you wanted was this. To be fucked and used and choked while you get bred."
Lip can't respond, can barely breathe with your hand on her throat, but the way her pussy is gripping you tells you everything. She loves it, loves being dominated like this, loves the feeling of helplessness combined with the overwhelming pleasure of your cock pounding into her.
You fuck her harder, your hand tightening slightly on her neck. Her face is getting redder, her eyes watering, but there's nothing but pleasure in her expression. She's completely surrendered to it, to you, letting you take her however you want.
"Gonna breed you now," you tell her. "Gonna fill your tight little pussy with so much cum. Is that what you want?"
She tries to nod but can't with your hand holding her throat. Her mouth moves, trying to form words, and you ease up the pressure slightly so she can speak.
"Please," she gasps out. "Choke me while you cum inside me. Want to feel your hand on my throat when you breed me."
The request is so filthy, so unexpected from usually bratty Lip, that it sends a surge of arousal straight through you. You tighten your grip again and increase your pace, fucking her brutally now, chasing your own release. Your cock is throbbing inside her, so close to the edge, and you can feel your balls tightening.
Lip is close too, you can tell from the way she's trembling, from the irregular pulsing of her walls around you. Choerry reaches over and starts rubbing Lip's clit again, determined to make her cum one more time, and that pushes Lip over the edge.
Her whole body goes rigid, her back arching off the bed, her mouth open in a silent scream that your hand on her throat won't let out. Her pussy spasms wildly around your cock, clenching and releasing in rapid succession, trying to milk you. You can see her eyes rolling back, can see drool starting to leak from the corner of her mouth as the combination of oxygen deprivation and intense pleasure overwhelms her completely.
The sight and feeling of it destroys your control. Your own orgasm crashes through you and you bury yourself as deep as possible, the head of your cock pressed right against her cervix. Your hand tightens on her throat as you start to cum, and the first spurt of hot seed shoots directly into her womb. It's intense, your whole body shaking with the force of it, and you keep cumming, rope after thick rope flooding her pussy.
"Fuck, take it all," you groan, your hips jerking with each pulse. "Taking my cum so deep, filling up your womb."
You pump what feels like an enormous amount into her, more than you usually cum even with Choerry, your balls emptying completely inside Lip's spasming pussy. Through it all you keep your hand on her throat, watching her face as you breed her. Her eyes are completely rolled back now, showing mostly whites, drool running down her chin, and she looks absolutely gone, lost in pleasure so intense it's almost painful.
Finally your orgasm subsides and you release her throat, suddenly worried you held on too long. Lip gasps in a huge breath, coughing slightly, her eyes fluttering as oxygen rushes back to her brain. You're both trembling, still connected, your cock still buried inside her twitching pussy.
Slowly, carefully, you pull out. Your cock slides free with a wet sound and immediately thick white cum starts leaking from her pussy, running down to her ass. There's so much of it, more than her body can hold, and it keeps flowing out in steady streams.
Choerry moves immediately, her fingers going to Lip's pussy and pushing the leaking cum back inside. She works her fingers in deep, making sure as much stays inside as possible, and Lip whimpers at the intrusion into her oversensitive pussy.
"Gotta keep it all in there," Choerry says. "Let it soak into your womb where it belongs."
"Thank you," Lip whispers. She's staring at the ceiling with dazed, unfocused eyes. "I can feel it. Feel your cum inside me. It's so hot, so much of it."
"Good?" you ask, still catching your own breath.
"So good," she breathes, a blissed out smile spreading across her face. "Oh my god, this is the best feeling in the world. I can't believe I waited so long for this."
Her hand comes down to rest on her lower abdomen, pressing gently like she's trying to feel where your cum is inside her. Her pussy is still visibly leaking despite Choerry's efforts, white cum mixed with her own arousal creating a mess between her thighs.
Choerry looks at you with hungry eyes, her gaze dropping to your cock. It's softening, covered in cum and Lip's arousal, glistening in the light. "My turn now," she says, and before you can respond she's moving down the bed.
She takes your messy cock in her hand, not bothered at all by the mixture coating it, and brings it to her mouth. The first lick makes you hiss, oversensitive from cumming, but she doesn't care. She licks you clean with broad strokes of her tongue, tasting the combination of your cum and Lip's pussy, moaning like it's the best thing she's ever tasted.
"Choerry, fuck, I just came, I need a minute," you protest weakly.
She ignores you completely and takes your soft cock into her mouth, sucking gently at first and then with more intensity. Her tongue works along the shaft, her hand stroking the base, and despite the sensitivity you can feel yourself starting to respond. She knows your body so well, knows exactly what to do to get you hard again.
"She's insatiable," Lip observes from where she's still lying boneless on the bed, watching Choerry work.
"Always has been," you manage, your hips twitching as Choerry sucks harder.
Your cock is swelling in her mouth, blood rushing back despite having just cum. Choerry takes you deeper, gagging slightly but not stopping, determined to get you fully hard again. Her hand comes up to cup your balls, massaging them gently, coaxing them back to life.
Within a couple minutes you're fully erect again, your cock standing proud and ready. Choerry releases you, grinning triumphantly. "There we go," she purrs. "Ready for me now."
She moves up the bed and positions herself on her hands and knees, ass in the air, looking back at you over her shoulder with dark hungry eyes. Her pussy is already glistening with arousal, has been the whole time she was watching you fuck Lip.
"Come breed me too," she says. "I've been so patient, watching you give Lip what I've been getting for weeks. Now I need it. Need your cock inside me, need you to fill me up just like you did her."
You look at Lip, who's watching with interest despite looking completely exhausted, then back at Choerry's presented pussy. Your cock is throbbing, somehow ready for more despite having just cum hard. Choerry's conditioning has done something to your body, made your refractory period almost non-existent.
"Please," Choerry adds, wiggling her ass enticingly. "Breed your good girl. You know how much I need it.”
You move behind Choerry, admiring the view of her ass presented so perfectly for you. Your hand comes down hard on one cheek, the slap echoing through the room and leaving a red handprint on her pale skin. She yelps and then moans, pushing back against you like she's begging for more.
"Look at how hungry you are for it," you say, giving her other cheek the same treatment. "Can't even wait your turn properly."
"I can't help it," Choerry whines, wiggling her hips. "You've got me completely hooked on your cock. I need it all the time now, can't stop thinking about being bred."
You grab both her ass cheeks and spread them wide, exposing everything to your view. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, arousal dripping down her inner thighs, her lips swollen and flushed dark pink. Above that, her asshole is tight and pink, clenching slightly under your gaze. The sight makes your cock throb, already rock hard again thanks to her expert mouth.
"So wet already," you observe, running your thumb through her folds. "You got this turned on just from watching?"
"From watching you breed Lip," she confirms breathlessly. "Seeing you choke her while you came inside her, seeing all that cum leak out of her pussy. Made me so fucking horny I could barely stand it."
You line your cock up with her entrance, teasing her by rubbing the head through her wetness but not pushing in yet. She tries to push back, to impale herself on you, but you grip her hips and hold her still.
"Please," she begs. "Don't tease me. I've been waiting so long, just fuck me already."
You give in, pushing forward and burying yourself inside her in one smooth thrust. The familiar tight heat of Choerry's pussy envelops you, and you both groan at the sensation. Even after weeks of fucking her multiple times a day, she's still incredibly tight, her walls gripping your shaft perfectly.
"Yes, fuck, finally," Choerry moans, her fingers clutching the sheets. "Missed this so much."
"I literally fucked you this morning," you point out, starting to move with deep steady strokes.
"That was hours ago," she protests. "Feels like forever when I need it this bad."
You establish a rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, making her whole body jolt forward with each thrust. Your hands grip her hips hard enough to bruise, using your hold to pull her back onto your cock.
After a minute of this, Choerry lifts her head and looks at Lip, who's still lying where you left her, watching you fuck Choerry with hazy eyes. "Lip," Choerry says breathlessly. "Spread your legs for me."
Lip blinks, processing the request. "What?"
"Spread your legs," Choerry repeats, already shifting her position slightly. "I want to taste his cum inside you. Want to clean your pussy while he breeds mine."
Lip's eyes go wide, a fresh flush spreading across her cheeks. For a moment she hesitates, then slowly lets her legs fall open. Her pussy is still leaking cum, the thick white fluid coating her inner thighs and the sheets beneath her. She looks thoroughly used, and the sight makes your cock pulse inside Choerry.
Choerry shuffles forward on her knees, keeping her ass raised for you, and positions herself between Lip's spread thighs. She's bent almost in half now, ass up, face down near Lip's pussy. The position changes the angle of your cock inside her and you both groan.
"Oh fuck, you're so deep like this," Choerry gasps.
You don't give her time to adjust, just keep fucking her steadily while she lowers her mouth to Lip's cum-filled pussy. The first contact makes Lip gasp and arch off the bed, her hands flying to Choerry's hair. Choerry's tongue licks a long stripe through Lip's folds, gathering the mixture of your cum and Lip's arousal.
"Shit, Choerry," Lip whimpers. "I'm still so sensitive."
Choerry doesn't respond verbally, just moans against Lip's pussy and keeps licking. She's enthusiastic about it, her tongue working between Lip's swollen lips, dipping into her entrance to scoop out the cum pooled inside. The visual is absolutely obscene, watching Choerry eat your cum out of another girl's pussy while you fuck her from behind.
You pick up your pace, thrusting harder into Choerry, and every time you drive forward it pushes her face harder against Lip's pussy. Choerry adjusts, sealing her mouth over Lip's entrance and sucking, actually sucking the cum out of her. Lip cries out, her back arching, her fingers tightening in Choerry's hair.
"Too much, oh god, it's too much," Lip protests, but she's not pushing Choerry away. If anything she's pulling her closer, grinding up against her face.
Choerry pulls back just long enough to speak, her lips and chin glistening with cum and arousal. "You taste so good mixed with his cum," she says, then dives back in.
The dirty talk makes your hips snap forward harder, your cock driving deep into Choerry's pussy. You can see the way her ass ripples with each impact, can see how wet she is coating your shaft and balls. One of your hands slides from her hip to grab a handful of her hair, pulling her head back slightly.
"You're such a dirty girl," you tell her. "Eating my cum out of her pussy like it's a treat."
Choerry moans loudly, the sound muffled against Lip's flesh. She loves being called dirty, loves being used like this, and her pussy clenches tight around you in response. You use your grip on her hair to control her, pulling her back and forth between pounding into her and letting her focus on Lip.
Lip is falling apart above you, her whole body trembling as Choerry's tongue works her oversensitive pussy. "Choerry, fuck, your tongue feels so good," she gasps. "Can't believe you're doing this, so filthy, eating his cum out of me while he fucks you."
"She loves it," you say, punctuating your words with particularly hard thrusts. "Loves being a slut for my cock, loves tasting my cum any way she can get it."
Choerry nods frantically, humming in agreement against Lip's pussy. The vibrations make Lip cry out, her thighs trying to close around Choerry's head before she forces them back open. Choerry's tongue is everywhere, licking and sucking and probing, making sure she gets every drop of cum from inside Lip.
You release Choerry's hair and grip both her hips again, really starting to pound into her now. The force of your thrusts drives her face hard against Lip's pussy, practically suffocating her in it, and Choerry doesn't complain at all. She just keeps eating Lip out enthusiastically, her moans getting louder and more desperate.
"Your pussy feels so good," you tell Choerry. "So tight and wet for me. You were made to be bred, weren't you?"
She tries to respond but can't with her mouth full of Lip's pussy, so she just nods vigorously. Her whole body is shaking now, from your thrusts and from her own building arousal. You can feel her getting wetter, can feel the way her walls are starting to flutter around your cock.
Lip is watching you over Choerry's body, her eyes glazed with pleasure. "Fuck her harder," she says. "Make her feel as good as you made me feel."
You obey, increasing your pace until you're slamming into Choerry with brutal force. Each thrust makes her whole body jolt forward, makes her tongue press harder against Lip's clit. Lip starts grinding against Choerry's face shamelessly, using her mouth for her own pleasure, and Choerry lets her, loves it even.
The room is filled with obscene sounds. The wet slap of your bodies meeting, Choerry's muffled moans, Lip's breathless gasps, the squelch of Choerry's tongue in Lip's pussy. It's overwhelming, this tangle of bodies and pleasure, and you're loving it.
Your hands slide from Choerry's hips to her ass, spreading her cheeks wide again as you fuck her. You can see your cock disappearing into her pussy over and over, can see how stretched she is around you, can see the way her asshole clenches with each thrust. The urge to touch it is overwhelming, so you press your thumb against the tight ring of muscle.
Choerry jerks and moans loudly, her pussy clamping down on your cock. You don't push inside, just rub circles around her rim while you continue pounding her pussy, and she absolutely loses it.
Her moans turn into screams muffled by Lip's pussy, her whole body shaking uncontrollably. Lip gasps and grinds harder against her face, clearly getting close to another orgasm from Choerry's enthusiastic tongue work.
"Gonna make you both cum," you promise. "Gonna breed you so full Choerry, then watch Lip lick it out of you after."
The promise makes Choerry's pussy spasm around you, and Lip lets out a strangled moan. They're both into it, both desperate for more, and you're going to give them everything they need.
Your thumb circling her asshole isn't enough anymore. You need more, need to push her further. You gather some of the wetness coating your cock and her thighs, using it to slick up your thumb, and then you start pressing inside. The resistance is immediate, her tight ring of muscle clenching against the intrusion, but you're patient and persistent.
"Relax," you tell her, your other hand rubbing soothing circles on her lower back. "Let me in."
Choerry tries, you can feel her making the effort to unclench, and slowly your thumb breaches her asshole. The moment you're inside, even just to the first knuckle, Choerry screams. The sound is muffled by Lip's pussy but it's clearly one of intense pleasure, and her whole body goes rigid.
You push your thumb in deeper, working it slowly until you're buried to the knuckle in her tight ass. The dual sensation of your cock in her pussy and your thumb in her ass makes Choerry absolutely lose her mind. She's shaking uncontrollably, her pussy clenching and releasing around your shaft in rapid succession, and her moans are constant and desperate.
You start fucking her again, slowly at first, letting her adjust to the fullness. Your thumb stays buried in her ass while your cock pounds her pussy, and the thin wall between them means you can almost feel yourself through it. The sensation is incredible, tight and hot and absolutely filthy.
"Taking me so well in both holes," you praise, picking up speed. "Such a good slut for me."
Choerry's response is incoherent, just muffled sounds of pleasure as she continues eating out Lip. Her tongue has gotten sloppier, less coordinated, but Lip doesn't seem to mind. She's grinding against Choerry's face, chasing her own pleasure, her hands still tangled in Choerry's hair.
You fuck Choerry harder, your thumb moving in counterpoint to your thrusts. When you pull your cock back, you push your thumb deeper. When you drive forward, you pull back on your thumb. The alternating fullness is driving Choerry insane, you can tell from the way she's practically sobbing into Lip's pussy.
After a few minutes of this you decide you need a different angle, need to see her face, need to hold her properly while you breed her. You pull your thumb free of her ass and she whimpers at the loss. Then you grab her around the waist and pull her up, lifting her until her back is pressed firmly against your chest. You're both kneeling on the bed now, her body completely supported by yours, your cock still buried deep inside her.
The new position makes her gasp, makes her head fall back onto your shoulder. You wrap one arm around her waist to hold her steady, and bring your other hand up to cup her breast, squeezing the soft flesh. Your hips start moving, thrusting up into her.
"Fuck, Daddy," Choerry moans, and the word makes your cock pulse inside her. "So deep, you're so deep in me."
The daddy thing is new, something she's never called you before. Your hand tightens on her breast, pinching her nipple hard, and you start fucking her with real intensity. Your hips snap up brutally, driving your cock as deep as it can possibly go, hitting her cervix with each thrust.
"Say that again," you growl in her ear.
"Daddy," she whimpers, completely pliant in your arms. "Please Daddy, fuck me harder, breed me, fill me up."
You obey, increasing your pace until you're pounding up into her relentlessly. The arm around her waist holds her steady while you use her body, fucking her like she's a toy made just for your pleasure. Your other hand moves from her breast to her throat, wrapping around it the same way you did with Lip, and Choerry moans louder.
"Yes, choke me Daddy," she begs. "Use me however you want."
You apply pressure to her throat, not as much as you did with Lip but enough to make her breathing harder. Her pussy responds immediately, clenching tight around you, and you can feel her getting even wetter. She loves being controlled like this, loves surrendering completely to you.
Lip has propped herself up on her elbows, watching you fuck Choerry with hungry eyes. Her hand is between her own legs, fingers working her sensitive clit despite how recently she came. "God that's hot," she breathes. "Look at her taking your cock so well."
"Such a good girl," you agree, your lips against Choerry's ear. "My perfect little breeding slut."
"Your breeding slut," Choerry echoes desperately. "Only yours, Daddy. Only want your cock, only want your cum."
You fuck her harder, your hand tightening slightly on her throat, and she goes limp in your arms. She's completely given over to the pleasure, letting you move her however you want, trusting you completely.
Sweat is coating both your bodies now, making your skin slide together. The room is hot and humid, smelling like sex and arousal. Your muscles are burning from the effort of holding Choerry up and fucking her at this brutal pace, but you don't care. All that matters is the feeling of her tight pussy gripping your cock, the sounds of her desperate moans, the way she's trembling in your arms.
"Cum inside her," Lip says as she continues touching herself. "Breed her, fill her pussy up. She needs it so bad, look at how desperate she is."
"Please Daddy," Choerry whimpers. "Need your cum so bad, need you to breed me. Been so good for you, please give me what I need."
Your orgasm is building, the pressure at the base of your spine getting more intense. Your balls are tight, ready to empty inside her, and your rhythm is starting to falter. The hand on Choerry's throat slides down to join your other arm around her waist, pulling her tight against your chest. You bury your face in her neck, breathing in her scent, and your thrusts become erratic.
"Gonna fill you up," you grunt against her skin. "Gonna pump you so full of cum, breed you just like you need."
"Yes, yes, please," Choerry chants. "Breed me Daddy, knock me up, make me yours."
Lip's voice joins in, encouraging and desperate. "Do it. Cum inside her. Fill her womb with your seed, get her pregnant. She's been begging for it for so long."
The combination of their voices, their words, the tight heat of Choerry's pussy, the way she's completely surrendered to you, it all becomes too much. Your orgasm slams into you with devastating force and you bury yourself as deep as possible inside her. Your cock pulses and the first spurt of cum shoots directly into her womb, hot and thick. On the other side of the bed, Lip is cumming too.
"Fuck, Choerry," you groan, your arms tightening around her as your whole body shakes.
You keep cumming, rope after rope of thick seed flooding her pussy. Your balls emptying everything they have into her willing body. Choerry is moaning continuously, her pussy spasming around you as she feels each pulse of your cum inside her. Her hand comes down to press against her lower abdomen, like she's trying to feel how full you're making her.
"So much," she whimpers. "So much cum, Daddy. Filling me up so good, can feel it in my womb."
You keep thrusting shallowly through your orgasm, making sure every drop gets as deep as possible. Your cum has nowhere to go, trapped inside her by your cock, and you can feel the pressure of it, the way her pussy is stretched even tighter trying to accommodate both your shaft and the volume of seed.
When you finally stop cumming, you're both trembling and covered in sweat. You stay buried inside her for a long moment, holding her against your chest, both of you breathing hard. Slowly, carefully, you lower both of you down onto the bed, lying on your sides with you still inside her. Your arms stay wrapped around her waist, keeping her pulled tight against you.
"That was incredible," Choerry breathes. "Thank you Daddy."
Lip watches you both with satisfied eyes. "You two are so hot together," she says. "Seeing him breed you like that... fuck."
You finally slip out of Choerry, your softening cock sliding free with a wet sound. Immediately cum starts leaking from her pussy, thick white streams running down her thigh. There's so much of it, more than should be possible, but somehow you keep producing it for them.
Choerry whimpers at the feeling of your cum leaking out. "No," she protests weakly. "Want to keep it all inside."
"Relax, you can always get more of daddy's cum," you assure her, your hand rubbing soothingly over her stomach. "You're not going anywhere for a while."
The three of you lie there in the aftermath, sweaty and satisfied and completely spent. The sheets beneath you are soaked with various fluids. After a while, Lip shifts on the bed. "My turn to return the favor," she says.
She moves down the bed until she's positioned between Choerry's legs. Choerry is still lying on her side where you left her, cum actively leaking from her well-fucked pussy. Lip settles in and leans forward, her tongue extending to lick through Choerry's folds. The first taste makes her hum with appreciation, and then she's cleaning Choerry the same way Choerry cleaned her earlier.
But where Choerry was enthusiastic and messy about it, Lip is deliberate and precise. Her tongue moves in long slow strokes, gathering every drop of cum she can find. She licks Choerry's inner thighs where it's dripped down, then returns to her pussy to scoop more from inside. It's almost reverent the way she does it, taking her time, savoring the taste like it's something precious.
"Good girl, Lip," you say, and the praise makes her pause for just a second, a pleased flush spreading across her already pink cheeks before she continues.
Choerry sighs with pleasure, one hand coming down to rest gently in Lip's hair. Not controlling or directing, just touching, connecting. "That feels so nice," she murmurs. "Your tongue is so soft."
Lip doesn't respond verbally, too focused on her task. She seals her lips over Choerry's entrance and sucks gently, drawing more cum out to swallow down.
After several minutes of thorough cleaning, Lip finally pulls back. Her lips are white with your cum, coated in it, and there's some on her chin too. She licks her lips slowly, gathering as much as she can, and the sight makes your spent cock twitch despite having cum twice already.
Choerry notices Lip's messy face and grins. She reaches out and pulls Lip up toward her, and then they're kissing. Their mouths move together slowly, tongues sliding against each other as they share the taste of your cum. You can see it transferring between them, making both their lips shiny and white.
They stay like that for a long moment, just kissing softly, and when they finally part they're both smiling.
"Come here," Choerry says to you, patting the bed between them.
You move to settle in the middle, lying on your back. Choerry immediately curls into your side, resting her head on your chest, one arm draped over your stomach. Her body is warm and soft against yours, still slightly damp with sweat. Lip hesitates for just a moment, like she's not sure if she's allowed to be this close, this intimate. But then she seems to make a decision and mirrors Choerry's position on your other side, her head finding the space between your shoulder and chest.
The weight of both of them pressed against you feels right in a way you can't quite articulate. You bring your arms up to wrap around each of them, holding them close.
"That was amazing," Choerry sighs contentedly. "You should sleep here tonight. We can go again later, I'm definitely going to want more before morning."
"Me too," Lip admits quietly. "Just for tonight though," she adds, but it doesn't sound very convincing.
Choerry turns her head slightly to look at Lip across your chest.
"Thank you for nagging me about this," Lip says. "I don't know if I could have done it alone. Coming to him and asking, I mean. I would have just kept suffering."
"Please," Choerry scoffs affectionately. "I know you. You would have broken eventually and come begging him to breed you. I just saved you the weeks of anguish trying to resist."
Lip giggles, an actual genuine giggle, and reaches across you to pat Choerry's shoulder. It's a light playful swat, but Choerry gasps dramatically like she's been mortally wounded.
"Daddy, she's hitting me!” Choerry whines.
Lip props herself up on one elbow to look down at Choerry. "Is that what we're calling him now?" she asks, one eyebrow raised. "Daddy?"
Choerry grins unrepentantly. "I like it. It just came out but it felt right, you know? He takes such good care of us, makes sure we get what we need. Seems fitting."
She looks up at you, suddenly a little uncertain. "You don't mind, do you?"
You consider it for a moment. A few months ago if someone told you your friends would be calling you Daddy while you bred them, you would have thought they were insane. But now, lying here with both of them curled against you, their bodies full of your cum, it doesn't seem strange at all.
"I don't mind," you say honestly. "Call me whatever feels right to you."
Lip hums thoughtfully, settling back down against your chest. "I think it suits you," she says. "Before, you were just our friend. Now you're our friend and our Daddy. I think giving you a label makes things less awkward.”
"I agree. And you're both my good girls by the way," you say.
Choerry makes a pleased sound and nuzzles closer against your chest. "I like being your good girl," she murmurs. She presses a soft kiss to your skin, right over your heart
Lip doesn't say anything but you feel her snuggle closer, her arm tightening around your waist. Outside, the city continues on, but in this room time feels suspended. Just the three of you, tangled together, satisfied and safe.
Your good girls, falling asleep in your arms, full of your cum and finally, temporarily, at peace.
—
What started as something shocking and forbidden becomes your new normal so gradually you barely notice the transition. This is just your life now - being Daddy to two gorgeous girls who need you constantly, filling them with cum multiple times a day, watching their bodies respond to the breeding you're giving them.
Lip comes back to you three days after that first night, showing up at your door looking nervous and determined. "I need more," she admits quietly. "I thought once would be enough but it's not. I can't stop thinking about it." You pull her inside and she's on her knees within minutes, sucking your cock like she's been thinking about nothing else. When you finally fuck her it's missionary, face to face, your foreheads pressed together as you move inside her.
The sessions with Lip are different from Choerry's. Where Choerry is wild and shameless, Lip is more reserved even in her desperation. She likes being held while you fuck her, likes the intimacy of it, likes when you whisper how good she is in her ear. But she's also incredibly submissive in ways that surprise you. She loves when you take control completely, when you position her exactly how you want her and use her body for your pleasure.
You discover she loves being fucked from behind while lying flat on her stomach, your weight pressing her into the mattress as you take her. She can't move like that, can only lie there and take what you give her, and it makes her come so hard she can barely breathe after. "Use me. Just use me however you want, Daddy." And you do, fucking her hard and deep while she moans into the pillow.
She's also more experimental than you expected. One afternoon she shyly asks if you'll fuck her ass, and you spend an hour carefully preparing her, working fingers and tongue and lube until she can take your cock. When you finally push inside her tight hole she cries from how intense it feels, and when you cum in her ass instead of her pussy she whimpers about how empty her womb feels. You fuck her pussy right after, your cock still slick from her ass, and pump her full of the cum she was missing.
Sometimes you have them both at the same time, and those sessions are something special. The two of them will show up together, giggling and excited, and you'll spend the afternoon rotating between them. You'll fuck Choerry while she eats Lip's pussy, then switch and fuck Lip while Choerry rides her face. You'll have them kneel side by side so you can alternate, a few thrusts in one pussy then switching to the other, keeping both of them desperate and begging.
One memorable evening you manage to make them cum at the same time, Choerry on your cock and Lip on your fingers, both of them squirting simultaneously while screaming your name. When you finally cum that time you pull out of Choerry and shoot your load across both their faces, marking them, and they immediately start licking it off each other while giggling.
The dynamic between the three of you solidifies into something that feels real and permanent. They're your girls, your good girls, and you're their Daddy who takes care of them. The breeding becomes routine but never boring, your body somehow adapting to their needs. You're cumming four, five, sometimes six times a day and it never feels like too much.
You learn their bodies intimately, learn every spot that makes them gasp, every angle that makes them see stars. You learn that Choerry likes having her hair pulled during doggy style, that Lip likes when you hold her throat gently while you're inside her. You learn that they both love being called good girls when they take your cum deep, love being praised for how well they're being bred.
Twenty days after you first bred Choerry, she shows up at your apartment in the late afternoon. You open the door expecting another breeding session, already getting hard just from seeing her, but something about her expression stops you.
"We need to talk," she says, and you let her inside with a suddenly racing heart.
She sits on your couch and pulls something small and white from her purse. A pregnancy test.
"It worked," she says, and her smile is radiant. "I'm pregnant. I noticed the symptoms starting to change about four days ago. The constant need, the pain, all of that started fading. I took this test this morning to confirm."
You sink down onto the couch beside her, staring at the test. This is what you've been working toward, what all those breeding sessions were supposed to accomplish, but seeing the actual proof makes it suddenly very real. Choerry is going to have your baby.
"The arousal I've been feeling these past few days is different too," Choerry continues. "It's normal now. Just regular horniness, not that desperate painful need. It doesn't hurt anymore." Her smile gets wider. "The breeding actually cured me, just like the doctors said it would."
"That's amazing," you manage, still processing. "Congratulations. I'm so happy for you."
"For us," she corrects gently, taking your hand. "I talked to Lip this morning too. She took a test and she's pregnant too. It worked for both of us."
"What happens now?" you ask. "With us, I mean. With all of this."
Choerry shrugs, squeezing your hand. "I don't know. That's another chapter we haven't written yet. We'll figure it out as we go, right? The three of us together." She pauses, a mischievous glint appearing in her eyes. "But right now I don't want to think about all that complicated stuff. Right now I just want to celebrate."
She stands up and turns to face you, her hands going to the hem of her skirt. She lifts it slowly, revealing a pair of blue lace panties underneath. You can see a damp spot already forming at the crotch.
"I got so excited telling you the news that I got turned on," she says. "But this time it's just normal arousal. It doesn't hurt, doesn't feel desperate. I just want you because I want you." She bites her lip. "I came here so you could fuck me. To celebrate that we made a baby together."
Your cock is already responding, hardening in your pants as you look at her. She's pregnant with your child and she's standing in front of you looking like sin, still wanting you even though the medical need is gone.
"You're sure it's safe?" you ask. "For the baby?"
"Totally safe," she assures you. "I already looked it up. We can keep fucking as much as we want." She hooks her thumbs in her panties and slowly pulls them down, revealing her bare pussy. It's glistening with arousal, her lips pink and swollen. "So what do you say, Daddy? Want to fuck your pregnant girl?"
You're on your feet in an instant, pulling her against you and kissing her deeply. She melts into the kiss, her arms wrapping around your neck.
"Bedroom," you tell her. "I'm going to take my time with you."
The moment you cross the threshold into your bedroom, Choerry is on you. Her hands fist in your shirt as she pulls you down into a kiss. This is different from every other time you've kissed her. There's no underlying panic, no biological imperative driving her actions. She's kissing you just because she wants to.
You kiss her back with matching intensity, your hands sliding down to grip her ass through her skirt. She makes a pleased sound into your mouth and presses closer, her body molding against yours. You're both moving toward the bed without really thinking about it, stumbling slightly as you refuse to break the kiss, until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you both tumble onto it together.
She lands half on top of you, laughing against your lips, and the sound is pure joy. Her hands are already working at your shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons in her eagerness. You help her by sitting up slightly, and together you manage to get it unbuttoned and shoved off your shoulders. While you're dealing with your shirt, she sits up straddling your hips and shrugs out of her wool coat, tossing it carelessly aside.
Her top comes next, a soft sweater that she pulls over her head in one smooth motion. Underneath she's not wearing a bra, and her breasts bounce free, perfect and pale with those dusty pink nipples you've come to know so well. The sight never gets old, and you reach up immediately to cup them, thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks. She arches into your touch, biting her lip.
"Love when you touch me," she murmurs, covering your hands with hers and pressing them harder against her breasts.
You squeeze and knead the soft flesh, then pinch her nipples gently and watch her reaction. Her eyes flutter closed and she grinds down against your hardening cock through your pants. After a moment she shifts back, sliding down your body so she can reach your pants. Her fingers make quick work of your belt and zipper, and then she's tugging everything down, your pants and boxers together. Your cock springs free, already fully hard, and she makes an appreciative sound.
"Always so ready for me," she says, wrapping her hand around your shaft and stroking slowly.
"Always," you agree, your hips lifting to help her get your pants all the way off.
Once you're naked from the waist down she stands up beside the bed to deal with her own skirt. It's a short pleated thing that you've been admiring since she arrived, and she unzips it at the side and lets it fall to pool around her ankles. Now she's completely naked, and you take a moment to just appreciate her. Her body is still the same, her stomach still flat, no visible signs yet of the baby growing inside her. But knowing it's there, knowing you put it there, adds a new dimension to how you see her.
"You're staring," she says, but she's smiling, clearly pleased by your attention.
"You're beautiful," you tell her honestly.
She climbs back onto the bed, but instead of settling beside you or straddling your hips like you expect, she moves to straddle your chest. Her knees bracket your shoulders and her pussy hovers just above your face. The position puts you at eye level with her cunt, and you can see how wet she is, arousal glistening on her folds.
"I want to try something," she says.
Before you can ask what, she's shifting position, turning around so her ass is facing you instead of her pussy. She settles back, her pussy now directly above your mouth, and leans forward. Her mouth wraps around the head of your cock at the same moment her pussy lowers onto your face.
The dual sensation is overwhelming. Her wet heat pressing against your mouth, her taste flooding your tongue as you automatically start licking, while simultaneously feeling the slick warmth of her mouth sliding down your shaft. You groan against her pussy, the vibration making her hips twitch.
She takes you deeper, her tongue swirling around your length as she bobs her head. You can feel her getting more confident with the position, adjusting her angle until she can take you even further. Her technique has improved so much over the past weeks - she knows exactly how to work you now, knows the spots that make you throb, knows when to use her tongue and when to just provide that tight suction.
You focus on returning the favor, your hands coming up to grip her ass and hold her steady while you eat her out. Your tongue drags through her folds, gathering her arousal, and the taste is familiar and addictive. You find her clit and flick it with the tip of your tongue, making her moan around your cock. The vibration feels incredible, and you understand why she reacted when you groaned earlier.
Her thighs are on either side of your head, warm and soft, occasionally twitching when you hit a particularly sensitive spot. You can see everything from this angle - her pussy spread open above you, her tight asshole just beyond, the curve of her ass filling your vision. It's an incredibly intimate view, and combined with the feeling of her mouth working your cock, it's fucking perfect.
Choerry pulls off your cock with a wet sound, gasping for air. "God, your tongue feels so good," she pants, but she doesn't stop moving. Her hand wraps around your shaft and she starts stroking you while she catches her breath, her thumb swirling through the precum beading at your tip.
You respond by sealing your lips around her clit and sucking hard, and her whole body jerks. "Fuck," she whimpers, grinding down against your face. "Just like that, Daddy."
You work her clit with lips and tongue while your hands knead her ass, occasionally letting your fingers drift toward her other hole just to feel her clench. She's rocking her hips now, essentially riding your face while she jerks your cock, and the coordination required is making everything feel more intense.
She takes you back into her mouth, this time with more urgency. She's bobbing faster now, taking you deep enough that you feel the back of her throat, gagging slightly but not stopping. Saliva drips down your shaft and over your balls, making everything slick and messy. The wet sounds of her sucking combine with the sounds of you eating her pussy.
You slide your tongue lower, pushing it inside her entrance. Her pussy clenches around the intrusion and she moans loudly, the sound muffled by your cock filling her mouth. You fuck her with your tongue, pressing as deep as you can reach, and her arousal coats your lips and chin. She tastes slightly different than usual - still sweet and musky but with some subtle change you can't quite identify. Maybe it's the pregnancy already affecting her chemistry, or maybe you're just imagining it.
"Love your mouth," she gasps when she pulls off your cock again. She's stroking you faster now, her hand twisting on each upstroke in that way that drives you crazy. "Love how you eat my pussy, Daddy. You're so good at it."
You hum your acknowledgment against her clit and she shivers. Your hands spread her ass cheeks wider, opening her up even more to your tongue. You alternate between her clit and her entrance, keeping her guessing, building her pleasure gradually. There's no rush this time. No desperate need to make her cum quickly so she can have relief. You can take your time, can tease and explore and enjoy every moment.
She seems to sense the same thing because even though she's clearly getting worked up, she's not frantically chasing her orgasm the way she used to. She's savoring it, letting the pleasure build slowly. Her mouth returns to your cock and she sets a steady rhythm, taking you deep on each downstroke, her tongue working the underside of your shaft.
The position means you're both completely focused on giving pleasure to the other, unable to see faces or make eye contact, just lost in sensation. You can feel everything - the weight of her body on top of yours, the softness of her thighs framing your head, the wet heat of her pussy on your mouth. And you know she's feeling similar things - your cock stretching her lips, your hands gripping her ass, your tongue working between her legs.
Your tongue finds her clit again and you suck hard while simultaneously pushing two fingers inside her pussy. The combination makes her cry out, her thighs trembling on either side of your head. You curl your fingers to hit her g-spot and she practically collapses forward, having to brace herself with one hand on the bed while the other keeps working your cock.
"Too good," she whimpers. "Daddy, that's so good, don't stop."
You don't, just keep the steady pressure on her g-spot while your tongue flicks rapidly over her clit. Her pussy is getting wetter, practically dripping on your face now, and you can feel the telltale fluttering that means she's getting close. But you deliberately slow down slightly, not wanting to push her over yet, wanting to draw this out.
She seems frustrated by your teasing because she doubles down on sucking your cock, taking you as deep as she can manage and swallowing around the head. The sensation is intense enough to make your hips buck up involuntarily, pushing deeper, and she takes it, her throat working around you.
You increase the intensity gradually, your tongue moving faster against her clit while your fingers pump inside her with more purpose. The rhythm is deliberate and focused, designed to push her steadily toward the edge. Her thighs are trembling more noticeably now, squeezing against your head, and you can feel the tension building in her whole body.
Choerry responds by sucking your cock harder, taking you deeper, like she's trying to match your intensity. Her head bobs faster, and you can feel the wet slide of her lips and tongue working you with increasing desperation. Drool is running down your shaft in steady streams, coating your balls, making everything slippery and obscene. The wet gagging sounds she makes when you hit the back of her throat are driving you crazy, but you maintain your focus on her pleasure.
Your free hand comes up to spank her ass, not too hard but enough to make her jerk and moan around your cock. The vibration feels incredible, and you do it again, watching the pale skin of her ass turn pink under your palm. She loves it, grinding her pussy harder against your face, essentially fucking herself on your fingers and tongue.
"Close," she mumbles around your cock. "Daddy, I'm getting close."
You don't respond verbally, just seal your lips around her clit and suck hard while curling your fingers to press firmly against her g-spot. The combination has her crying out, her whole body going rigid above you. Her mouth pulls off your cock as she loses the ability to focus on anything except the pleasure building between her legs.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," she chants, her hand still stroking your spit-slicked shaft but with no real coordination anymore. "Right there, don't stop, please don't stop."
You don't. You maintain exactly the same pressure, the same rhythm, giving her exactly what she needs. Your other hand grips her ass hard, holding her in place even as her hips start bucking erratically. She's grinding against your face shamelessly now, chasing her orgasm with single-minded focus.
Her pussy is absolutely drenched, arousal coating your fingers and dripping down your wrist. You can feel the way her walls are fluttering around your digits, can feel how swollen and sensitive her clit is under your tongue. She's right on the edge, teetering there, and you push her over by adding a third finger, stretching her wider, filling her more completely.
"Daddy!" she screams, and then she's cumming.
Her orgasm crashes through her with devastating force. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers like a vice, pulsing rhythmically, and you feel the gush of fluid that signals she's squirting. It sprays across your face and chin, warm and slick, soaking you. You don't stop working her through it, your tongue still flicking her clit, your fingers still curled against that perfect spot inside her.
Choerry is shaking violently, her whole body convulsing with the intensity of her release. More fluid gushes from her, coating your face and running down your neck. She's making these high breathless sounds, almost sobs, completely lost in sensation. Her hand has abandoned your cock entirely, both hands now braced on the bed as she tries to hold herself up through the waves of pleasure.
"Too much, too sensitive," she finally gasps, trying to pull away, but you hold her in place with the hand on her ass.
You gentle your touch, slowing your tongue and easing the pressure of your fingers, but you don't stop completely. You work her through the aftershocks, drawing out her pleasure as long as possible. Every time you think she's done, another small tremor runs through her and her pussy clenches again, releasing another trickle of fluid.
Finally, when she's whimpering and twitching from overstimulation, you release her clit and slowly withdraw your fingers. Her pussy is red and swollen, visibly pulsing, absolutely soaked. You press soft kisses to her inner thighs while she catches her breath, feeling the way her muscles are still twitching under your lips.
"Holy shit," she pants. "That was... fuck, Daddy."
You're completely drenched, your face and neck covered in her release, but you don't care. Watching her fall apart like that, knowing you gave her that kind of pleasure, is worth any amount of mess. Your cock is throbbing, still rock hard and desperate for attention, but seeing her satisfied takes priority.
After a moment Choerry shifts, lifting herself off your face. You finally get a clear breath of air that doesn't taste like her pussy, and you wipe your face with the back of your hand, though it doesn't do much good. She's still facing away from you, and you watch as she moves backward, crawling down your body until her ass is hovering over your hips.
Her hand reaches down between her legs to wrap around your cock, and the touch makes you groan. She strokes you a few times, spreading the saliva coating your shaft, then positions you at her entrance. You can feel the heat of her pussy radiating against your sensitive head, can feel how wet she still is dripping onto you.
"Need you inside me," she says. "Need to feel you while I'm still sensitive."
Slowly, torturously slowly, she starts to sink down. Her pussy is so slick from her orgasm that despite how tight she is, you slide in easily. The angle is different in reverse cowgirl, and you can see everything - your cock disappearing inch by inch into her pink pussy, the way her lips stretch around your girth, the curve of her ass and her spine above.
She takes you gradually, pausing occasionally to adjust to the fullness, making these soft whimpering sounds as you stretch her. When she's about halfway down she pauses, breathing hard, and you can see her thighs trembling from the effort of holding herself up.
"Take your time," you tell her, your hands coming to rest on her hips, steadying her but not forcing her down. "We're not in a rush."
She nods and continues sinking, and you watch mesmerized as more of your cock disappears inside her body. The sight of it never gets old - watching her pussy swallow you, watching the way she takes every inch like she was made for it. And now she's pregnant with your baby, her body already changing in ways too subtle to see, and somehow that makes everything even more intense.
Finally, after what feels like forever, she's fully seated on your cock. Her ass is resting against your thighs, and you're buried completely inside her. You can feel every pulse and flutter of her oversensitive walls, can feel how full she is of you. She sits there for a long moment, just adjusting, getting used to the angle and the depth.
"So deep like this," she whimpers, her hands coming to rest on your thighs behind her for balance. "Feel you everywhere, Daddy."
"You feel perfect," you tell her honestly, your hands sliding from her hips to her ass, squeezing gently. "So fucking perfect wrapped around my cock."
She starts to move, lifting herself slowly and then sinking back down. The first few movements are tentative, experimental, finding her rhythm. But gradually she gains confidence, rising higher before dropping back down, taking you faster. Her ass bounces with each movement, the sight hypnotic, and you can't look away from where you're joined.
This is different from the desperate breeding sessions, different from the frantic need that used to drive her. This is Choerry riding your cock just because she wants to, just because it feels good. She's yours, pregnant with your baby, and she still wants you. Not because her body demands it, but because she chooses it.
The visual is obscene. Her pussy lips grip your shaft as she rises, dragging along your length, glistening with her arousal. When she drops back down you disappear inside her completely, her ass meeting your thighs with a satisfying slap. The rhythm she establishes is steady and deliberate, not frantic like it used to be. She's savoring it, taking her time, riding you for the pure pleasure of it.
"Your ass looks amazing like this," you tell her, your hands sliding from her hips to properly cup her cheeks. The flesh is firm but soft enough to squeeze, and you knead it appreciatively while she continues moving.
"Yeah?" she asks breathlessly, looking back at you over her shoulder. Her face is flushed, her lips parted, and there's a satisfied smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "You like watching me ride you like this?"
"Love it," you confirm, giving her ass a light slap that makes her gasp and clench around you. "Love watching my cock disappear inside you. Love watching your perfect ass bounce."
She bites her lip and turns back around, but she starts putting more effort into it, clearly pleased by your praise. She rises higher now, until just the head of your cock remains inside her, then slams herself back down with more force. The impact sends ripples through her ass and the sound echoes through the room - skin on skin, wet and obscene.
Your hands explore while she rides you, sliding from her ass up her back, tracing the line of her spine. Her skin is warm and starting to get damp with sweat from the exertion. You can feel her muscles working beneath your palms, can feel the tension and release as she lifts and drops. She's in incredible shape, her body strong and controlled even as she's taking her pleasure.
"Touch yourself," you suggest, wanting to see her completely lost in it. "Play with your clit while you ride me."
Choerry moans at the suggestion and one of her hands immediately leaves your thigh to slide between her legs. You can't see exactly what she's doing from this angle but you can feel the effect - the way she clenches around you when she makes contact with her sensitive clit, the way her rhythm falters slightly as the added stimulation overwhelms her for a moment.
"Oh god," she whimpers, her hips starting to roll in addition to the up and down motion. "Feels so good, Daddy. Your cock feels so good inside me."
The combination of movements - bouncing and grinding - creates different sensations with each stroke. Sometimes she's riding you fast and hard, sometimes she's grinding down deep and swirling her hips, and the variety is incredible. You never know what she's going to do next, and your cock throbs inside her with each new angle she discovers.
You let one hand slide down from her back to where you're joined, your fingers spreading her ass cheeks so you can watch more clearly. Her pussy is stretched so beautifully around your cock, her pink walls clinging to you, and every time she rises you can see your shaft coated in her arousal. The sight is hypnotic, pornographic, absolutely perfect.
"You take me so well," you praise, your thumb trailing down toward her asshole. You don't push inside, just circle the tight ring, feeling how it clenches at your touch. "Such a good girl, riding Daddy's cock."
"Your good girl," she agrees breathlessly, her movements becoming more erratic as her pleasure builds. "Always want to be your good girl."
The thumb circling her ass presses just slightly, not breaching but adding pressure, and she cries out. Her pussy spasms around your cock and she grinds down hard, taking you as deep as possible. Her fingers on her clit must be working frantically now because she's shaking, making these desperate little sounds.
"That's it," you encourage, your other hand gripping her hip to help guide her movements. "Take what you need. Use my cock however you want."
She does, abandoning any semblance of rhythm to just chase sensation. Sometimes she's bouncing fast, her ass slapping against your thighs. Sometimes she's grinding in slow circles, your cock buried deep while she works her clit. Sometimes she's barely moving at all, just clenching her pussy around you rhythmically while she touches herself.
You thrust up slightly to meet her movements, adding your own force to her downward motion, and the increased impact makes her moan louder. Your hands are all over her - squeezing her ass, gripping her hips, sliding up to her waist. You can feel how her breathing is getting more ragged, can feel the tension building in her body.
"So close already," she admits. "Still so sensitive from before. Gonna cum again, Daddy."
"Not yet," you tell her, and your hands on her hips slow her movement. "Want to feel you like this longer. Don't rush it."
She whimpers in frustration but obeys, forcing herself to slow down even though her body is clearly desperate to race toward release. The way she's trembling, the way her pussy keeps clenching involuntarily, tells you she's fighting hard against her instincts.
"Good girl," you praise. "That's my good girl, doing what Daddy says."
The praise helps, you can feel her relax slightly into the slower rhythm. She's still taking you deep, still moving her hips in ways that feel incredible, but it's more controlled now. More deliberate. She's building her pleasure gradually instead of sprinting toward it, and you can tell from her soft moans that it's making everything more intense.
Your hands slide up her back to her shoulders, and you pull her back slightly so she's leaning more against you. The angle change pushes your cock even deeper, hitting different spots inside her, and she gasps. You're not fully sitting up, still mostly lying down, but you have better leverage like this. You can thrust up into her while pulling her down, meeting in the middle with satisfying force.
"Yes, like that," she encourages, her head falling back. "Use me, Daddy. Fuck me from below."
You do, establishing a powerful rhythm where you're doing most of the work now, driving up into her while she takes it. Her hands brace on your thighs, giving her stability, and she's practically just holding herself in position while you fuck her. The shift in dynamic is hot, going from her using you to you using her, and she's clearly into it based on how loud her moans are getting.
Her arousal is coating both of you, running down to soak your balls and the sheets beneath, making everything slippery and messy in the best way. "Please," she finally begs. "Please can I cum? Need it so bad, Daddy, please let me cum on your cock."
"Not yet," you tell her, and she makes a wounded sound. "Want to feel you fall apart. Want to draw this out until you can't take it anymore."
"I can't take it now," she protests, but her body obeys even as she complains, still taking your cock, still holding back her release.
"You can," you assure her. "You can take whatever I give you. That's what good girls do.”
You keep the pace relentless, thrusting up into her with powerful strokes while she struggles to hold back her orgasm. Every time you drive deep you can feel her pussy trying to clench and pull you deeper, her body fighting against her will to obey you. Her thighs are shaking uncontrollably now, her whole body trembling with the effort of restraint.
"Daddy, please," she whimpers again, more desperately this time. "I'm trying so hard but I can't, I need to cum, please."
"Tell me how it feels," you command, your fingers digging into her hips as you pull her down harder onto your upward thrusts. "Tell me exactly what my cock is doing to you."
"Stretching me so good," she gasps out. "So deep inside me, hitting everything, filling me up completely. Can feel you in my stomach, Daddy, so fucking deep. Every time you thrust up it's like you're pushing into my womb."
The dirty talk spurs you on and you increase your pace, really pounding into her now from below. The force of your thrusts is enough to lift her slightly, her knees leaving the mattress for just a moment before she crashes back down. Her ass is bouncing wildly, the flesh jiggling with each impact, and you can't tear your eyes away from it.
"More," you demand. "Tell me what you need."
"Need to cum on your cock," she sobs. "Need to feel you so deep when I let go, need my pussy to squeeze you while I fall apart. Please Daddy, I've been so good, I've waited like you told me, please let me cum."
Her begging is affecting you too, your own control starting to slip as your cock throbs inside her. But you hold on, wanting to push her just a little further, wanting her completely desperate before you give permission.
"Touch your clit harder," you tell her. "Rub it exactly how you need to. But don't you dare cum until I say."
She makes a strangled sound but obeys, her fingers working frantically between her legs. You can feel the vibrations of her touch through the thin wall separating her clit from where your cock is buried inside her. It adds sensation for both of you, and her pussy starts fluttering more intensely around your shaft.
"Can't hold it," she warns. "Daddy, I'm trying but I can't, it's too much, I'm gonna—"
"Not yet," you growl, even though you can feel how close she is. Her pussy is pulsing irregularly, her whole body wound impossibly tight. "Just a little longer, baby. Show me how good you can be."
"Please, please, please," she's chanting now. Sweat is running down her back, her muscles straining. She's bouncing on your cock almost violently now, taking you so hard and fast it borders on painful for both of you. But neither of you wants to stop, both caught in the intensity of it.
You reach around with one hand to feel where you're joined, your fingers sliding through the mess of her arousal coating everything. You can feel your cock pistoning in and out of her, can feel how stretched she is around you, can feel her clit hard and swollen under her frantic fingers. The sensory overload is incredible.
"Such a good girl," you finally say. "Taking everything I give you. Waiting so patiently." You thrust up particularly hard and she screams. "Cum for me, Choerry. Cum all over Daddy's cock right now."
The permission unleashes something in her. Her orgasm hits instantly and with devastating force, like she'd been holding it back by sheer willpower and the dam finally broke. Her pussy clamps down on your cock so hard it's almost painful, and then you feel it: the gush of fluid that signals she's squirting.
It sprays everywhere, soaking your thighs and stomach, running down your balls, absolutely drenching you both. She's still bouncing on your cock, unable to stop moving even as she comes apart, and every impact forces out more fluid.
"Yes, that's it," you encourage, continuing to thrust up into her through her orgasm. "Give it all to me, good girl. Squirt all over my cock."
She does, wave after wave of it, more than you've ever seen from her. It seems endless, her body wringing out every drop while her pussy spasms uncontrollably around you. Her fingers have stopped moving on her clit, too overwhelmed to continue, but her body keeps shaking through aftershock after aftershock.
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," she sobs, and you're not even sure she knows she's speaking. She's completely lost in it, beyond words or conscious thought, just pure sensation.
You slow your movements gradually, helping her ride it out, but you don't stop completely. Even as her squirting subsides to a trickle, even as her screams fade to whimpers, you keep thrusting gently, drawing out her pleasure as long as possible. Her pussy is still clenching rhythmically, still pulsing around your cock, and you can feel every flutter.
Finally, after what feels like minutes but is probably less, she collapses forward. She catches herself with her hands on the mattress, breathing so hard she sounds like she might pass out. Her whole body is trembling, aftershocks still rolling through her, and when you look down you can see her thighs are soaked, arousal and release running down them in streams.
"Holy fuck," she manages eventually. "That was... I've never... fuck."
You slide your hands up her back, soothing, helping her come down from the intensity. Your cock is still buried inside her, still hard, throbbing with your own need but willing to wait. She needs a moment to recover from that, and you're patient enough to give it to her.
After a minute of just breathing, trying to get herself back under control, she slowly lifts herself off your cock. You slip free with a wet sound and more fluid leaks from her pussy, adding to the mess coating both of you. She practically collapses onto the bed beside you, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes.
"You okay?" you ask, genuine concern mixing with satisfaction at how thoroughly you've wrecked her.
"So okay," she breathes, a blissed-out smile spreading across her face. "So, so okay. That was incredible."
You lean over and kiss her, soft and sweet, tasting yourself on her lips from earlier. She kisses back lazily, still too dazed to put much effort into it, but the affection is clear. When you pull back she's looking at you with such open adoration it makes you smile.
"We're not done though," you tell her, and her eyes widen slightly.
"I don't know if I can handle more," she admits.
"You can," you assure her. "I know you can."
You help guide her onto her stomach, arranging her so she's lying flat on the mattress with her face turned to the side. Her ass is raised slightly just from the natural curve of her body, and the position makes her look absolutely delectable. You kneel beside her, your hands immediately going to her ass, spreading her cheeks apart.
Your cock throbs with need, eager to be back inside her, and you position yourself properly between her legs. You spread her cheeks wider, admiring the view, then guide your cock to her entrance.
"Ready for more?" you ask, the head of your cock pressing against her opening but not pushing in yet.
She nods against the mattress, her hands clutching the sheets. "Always ready for you, Daddy," she murmurs. "Use me however you want.”
You push inside her in one smooth thrust, burying yourself completely in her still-sensitive pussy. The angle of this position is different, tighter somehow, and the way she's lying flat means you can get incredibly deep. Choerry moans into the mattress, her fingers clutching the sheets as you fill her up.
"Fuck, you're so tight like this," you groan, your hands still gripping her ass cheeks to keep them spread. The visual is perfect - your cock buried in her pussy, her body spread out beneath you, completely at your mercy.
You start moving, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in with force. The prone position means she can't move much, can't participate the way she could when riding you. She's just there to take it, to be used, and from the sounds she's making she fucking loves it. Her pussy is still so wet from her orgasm that every thrust makes obscene squelching sounds, and you can feel her arousal coating your shaft and balls.
"Yes, Daddy," she whimpers, voice muffled by the mattress. "Use me, fuck me, take what you need."
You do exactly that, setting a brutal pace right from the start. Your hips slap against her ass with each thrust, the sound echoing through the room along with her moans. You're not holding back now, not teasing or drawing anything out. You're fucking her with single-minded intensity, chasing your own release after holding back for so long.
Your weight presses her into the mattress, pinning her down, and she makes these gorgeous helpless sounds. Her pussy is clenching around you with every thrust, still sensitive from cumming so hard, and the stimulation is almost too much for her. But she takes it, takes everything you give her, her body yielding to yours completely.
"Such a good girl," you grunt, leaning forward to press kisses along her spine. "Taking my cock so well. Letting me use this perfect pussy."
"Yours," she gasps. "My pussy is yours, Daddy. Always yours."
You fuck her harder, deeper, your fingers digging into her ass hard enough to leave marks. She's going to be sore tomorrow, going to feel this for days, and the knowledge makes you thrust even more forcefully. You want to mark her, claim her, make sure she remembers exactly who she belongs to.
Your hands slide from her ass to her hips, gripping tight so you can pull her back to meet your thrusts. The impact is harder this way, your cock driving so deep you're hitting her cervix with every stroke. She's crying out with each one, the sound somewhere between pleasure and pain, but her pussy keeps clenching around you like she never wants you to stop.
"Gonna fill you up," you tell her, feeling your orgasm starting to build. "Gonna pump you full of cum, fill my pregnant girl's pussy."
"Please," she begs. "Want your cum so bad, Daddy. Need to feel it inside me."
You lean down further, covering her body with yours, your chest pressed against her back. The position lets you get even deeper, lets you really grind into her, and she's practically screaming now. Your face is beside hers, and you can see the tears streaming down her cheeks from the intensity, can see how completely wrecked she looks.
"Love fucking you like this," you growl in her ear. "Love how you just take it, love how your pussy grips me, love everything about you."
Your rhythm is getting erratic now, your thrusts less controlled as your orgasm approaches. You're grunting with effort, slamming into her with everything you have, and she's just lying there taking it all, sobbing with pleasure. Her pussy is spasming around you, fluttering constantly, and you can tell she's getting close to cumming again despite how recently she came.
"Cum with me," you command. "Want to feel you cum on my cock when I fill you up."
"Yes, yes, gonna cum," she whimpers. "So close, Daddy, so close."
You reach under her to find her clit, rubbing it roughly, and that's all it takes. Her pussy clamps down on you like a vice and she screams into the mattress, her whole body going rigid beneath you. The feeling of her cumming around your cock pushes you over the edge.
Your orgasm hits hard and you bury yourself as deep as physically possible, grinding against her cervix as your cock starts pulsing. The first spurt of cum shoots directly into her womb and you groan loudly, your whole body shaking with the intensity. You keep cumming, rope after thick rope flooding her pussy, more than you've cum in days because you've been saving it all for this moment.
"Fuck, Choerry," you groan, your hips jerking with each pulse. "Taking all my cum, good girl, take everything."
She's whimpering beneath you, her pussy milking you, trying to pull every drop deeper. You feel like you're cumming forever, emptying everything you have into her willing body. Even when you think you're done, your cock gives another few weak pulses, making sure she gets absolutely everything.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, your orgasm subsides and you collapse on top of her. You're both breathing hard, covered in sweat, completely spent. Your cock is still inside her, softening slowly, and you can feel your cum starting to leak out around your shaft despite how deep you are.
After a minute you carefully pull out and roll off her, lying on your back beside her on the bed. Choerry stays where she is for a moment, face down, cum leaking from her pussy to soak the sheets. Then slowly she turns onto her side to face you, a satisfied smile on her flushed face.
You both just lie there for a while, catching your breath, coming down from the intensity. Eventually Choerry reaches out and takes your hand, lacing your fingers together.
"You know," she says quietly. "Before, with my hormones all messed up, I couldn't think straight about things. Everything was just... desperate and urgent and overwhelming."
You turn your head to look at her. "And now?"
"Now I can see things more clearly," she says, meeting your eyes. "Without all that biological screaming drowning everything else out."
"Is there anything you're noticing that you weren't able to notice before?" you ask, suddenly nervous about where this is going.
She's quiet for a moment, her thumb rubbing over your knuckles. Then she smiles, soft and genuine and a little vulnerable. "Yeah," she says. "I'm noticing that I love you."
Your breath catches. Of all the things you expected her to say, that wasn't it. "Choerry..."
"I'm not saying it because you got me pregnant or because you've been helping me," she continues, squeezing your hand. "I mean, I'm grateful for all that, obviously. But that's not why." She shifts closer, her free hand coming to rest on your chest. "I love you because you're kind and patient and you make me laugh. I love how you take care of me, how you never made me feel broken or wrong for what I was going through. I love that you see me, not just my body or what I needed from you."
"I..." You're not sure what to say, how to respond to something this huge.
"You don't have to say it back," she says quickly. "I'm not trying to pressure you or make things complicated. I just... wanted you to know. Now that my head is clear enough to know what I'm feeling."
"I love you too," you hear yourself say, and it feels right. Scary and huge and right.
Her smile goes brilliant. She leans in and kisses you, soft and sweet, nothing like the desperate kisses from before. This one is tender, full of emotion, sealing this new understanding between you.
When she pulls back she cuddles into your side, her head on your chest, your arm wrapping around her to hold her close. Your other hand comes to rest on her still-flat stomach, where your baby is growing.
"This got really complicated, huh?" she murmurs, sounding amused rather than worried.
"Yeah," you agree. "But maybe that's okay. We'll figure it out."
"We will," she says with confidence. "The three of us. You, me, and Lip. We're family now, right? Weird, unconventional, probably-going-to-confuse-everyone family. But family."
"Family," you echo, and the word feels good. Feels right.
She yawns, exhaustion finally catching up with her. "Can I stay here tonight? I'm too tired to go home."
"Of course," you tell her, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Stay as long as you want."
Within minutes her breathing evens out and she's asleep, safe and satisfied in your arms.
Day 3 of 12 days of IZ*mas
5.3k words
—————
"Good evening chat! How's it going? I need to see all my Hyemdans in here. Notifying the members on Discord, and—"
hyem_hyemu has gone live.
Almost immediately, 500 or so viewers pop in all at once.
"Welcome, welcome! I'll begin the stream shortly, but while I set up tonight's game, how are we doing on this fine Thursday evening?"
Hyewon giggles and winks at the camera, lightly rubbing her body as if she's holding a microphone to sing for a show. This is what welcomes you to the stream: her in a tight black dress/nightie with her tits pressed together for greater emphasis. Do this on a more popular site and it would be an immediate takedown of the channel, but here, it's all fair game.
It's the norm on her channel. So much so that everyone's desensitized to it by now.
> flag_xo: we running league again tonight?
> bananaleclercc: when are you gonna stream on youtube?
> peachikinn: W stream
> ThatsTheSequence: School just started for me
Hyewon laughs at a particular comment, covers her mouth for a moment. "Alright. So, we'll be playing a Pokémon game today. You guys gave some intriguing suggestions in the Discord, which if you haven't, please join—"
Her main screen displays Pokémon Radical Red. Chat's reception is rather lukewarm.
> flag_xo: Thought it was okay. Unbound is a must play for sure
> bananaleclercc: PokeRogue is way better
> wandering_notions: not a rom hack @bananaleclercc
> peachikinn: i don't play rom hacks
> you: goated rom hack
In the midst of the commotion:
ThatsTheSequence has sent a ₩100,000 donation.
Hyewon raises an eyebrow, adjusts her cleavage from side to side in her dress, sitting comfortably on her seat in her usual style. She hears the notification sound and her eyes light up. "Sarah with the big 100k and we haven't even started the game yet! Can we get some big Ws for Sarah in the chat please?"
Like mindless drones, most of the viewer base obediently complies, spamming Ws and emotes in the chat that disappear immediately and are lost to time—yours included.
> ThatsTheSequence: gotta jet, school is gonna start soon lol. hf with the stream
"Of course; thank you again Sarah for the dono, give her some Ws in the chat please!"
Her cursor then scrolls over to a giant wheel, with hundreds of usernames written, all exclusive members who pay a small monthly fee or are gifted by others to be part of the club. This is a stream tradition: the winner at the end will be able to get an exclusive chat with her, whether through DMs or in video call.
It's your most anticipated part of every stream. And even though you've been a member for almost 18 months, you still haven't gotten the opportunity. Every live is a new chance, a new hope—and it gets shot down. Every single time.
"You already know what this is," she says to everyone in chat , spamming Ws now for the wheel spin ahead of the stream's finale. "But let's get on with the game; I know some of you have been waiting."
It's your typical Pokemon gameplay viewing, except every now and then, you ghost Hyewon with story progression and teambuilding since it's one of those games you memorize from front to back after replaying countless times.
> Furret's a great early game mon. Catch it
"Already on it."
> bananaleclercc: furret's good in this game?
> peachikinn: this game seems kinda hard
> verstrappon69: what game is this?
> ddeunsparce: Do people not read the title? Seriously?
Hyewon composes herself graciously, reiterating the title of the game (Radical Red) no matter how many times this question is spammed in chat. Despite willingly going in blind. Apart from some ghosting from chat (mostly you), she's managed to reach the 1st set of difficult boss fights with minimal, if any, difficulty.
So you commemorate your contribution with a donation.
[you] has sent a ₩150,000 donation.
Her eyes come alight once more, and chat responds concurrently, spamming Ws right away before she even issues the command.
"There's our resident gifter! Ws in chat!"
This is your most consistent stream. Your only stream, in fact. Almost every live, you donate. Regardless of game, or whether or not she's even playing that particular day. Whether big or small it doesn't matter, anything to get Hyewon's attention and have her notice and call out your name or username, because nothing inflates the ego more than hearing it from her voice.
Her gaze lifts up, locking into the camera. Like she's trying to burn a hole right through. Right through your eyes and out the other end of your monitor. But Hyewon still continues. Still manages to somehow play this game. Because it's something about how you're a devoted viewer: 84% watch time dedicated to her, almost 4 hours per session, top 0.1% fan.
"Okay, guide me through this one, since you seem to know a lot about this game," she remarks, directly implying to you. You write a strategy and optimal team with her options in chat with pinpoint precision, leaving a response in chat as quickly as she speaks. She takes a moment to stare at the message box, to read every word, absorb every direction like it's gospel. And her expressions indicate, she's impressed.
She reads and plays it just like you outline. Hyewon pauses on every turn, every selection, and even when luck decides to fuck her sideways, you steer her through the first of the two boss fights with minimal difficulty.
As the battle fades, so do your thoughts. Even though you've been backseating, you're proud on her behalf, like this is her achievement and hers alone. And so does chat.
> bananaleclercc: L FALKNER
> peachikinn: ez
> ddeunsparce: This is actually still easy ngl. Just wait till Surge
But you'll cross that bridge when you get there.
And as for the second fight, she decides not to take your advice—or anyone's for that matter, out of avoiding overreliance on chat's assistance.
"So. I know he's usually got Rock types, and I think I can handle it with my team just fine."
Your eyebrows furrow. You can't help but hold your breath. She's either underestimating him, or overconfident about herself, given her lack of experience playing ROM hacks. Either way, you try and compose yourself.
> u sure about this?
"I can beat this guy by myself. Watch and see."
Turns out, she can't. And the fight against Brock is a complete and utter disaster.
> bananaleclercc: click your heels dorothy, we're not playing emerald anymore
> wandering_notions: this is the first time you should really use the advice in the chat. I tried doing this solo and died several times
> ddeunsparce: shoulda brought bibarel
> peachikinn: :bubulaugh:
Meanwhile, your face is completely unreadable. As a diehard viewer, you're concerned and heartbroken. As a Pokémon master, you're disappointed. As a human, you're a little bit of both. But despite the train wreck, you still feel sympathetic towards her.
You're quick to offer your advice.
> shouldve gone w bibarel like ddeun said
"You think so, huh?"
> yeah
> bananaleclercc: ALL HAIL BIBZ
"Too bad. I wanted to go with Vulpix. I'm not using a different Pokémon for just one boss. Anyway, I'm going to try again. Maybe not with the same team."
Hyewon does add Bibarel to her team, though. And wouldn't you know it: he makes the fight practically trivial.
After defeating Brock and the chat spam the arbitrary Ws with some snide comments about her gameplay in between, the stream goes to a perfectly timed ad break, where an ad plays as Hyewon herself gets up to attend to something: a brief respite to take a sip of water, to use the bathroom, to stand, to stretch. Maybe touch some grass.
"Thanks again to our resident gifter for another big dono, one of our top Hyemdans," she starts. "And thanks to all my Hyemdans in here. We hit another big milestone recently: 3,000 members. That's fucking crazy. It's only a matter of time before I can quit my job and become a full-time streamer. And you all have helped me get there."
It's met with the same almost automated response of Ws in chat.
The smile she wears is wide, but her eyes betray her. They're cold, empty, lifeless. Probably from her life off stream.
"Onwards to Misty, and maybe we can do Surge too."
Based on the difficulty curve, Misty is as far as she'll go—at least for this session. And who knows when she'll play it again next time, if there even is one: Hyewon tends to quit single player games before truly getting into the meat of the story. You don't remember the last game she properly finished, or at least, got the credit roll.
For the most part, 90% of the NPCs are piss easy, as in, anyone with even an iota of a brain can beat them. The next time she faces trouble is inside Mt. Moon, but that's hardly an issue for her too. She makes it to Cerulean City with minimal resistance, chatting it up with viewers about the upcoming subathon and the choice of outfits she should wear.
> wandering_notions: Anything you wear is good, you always look nice
> ddeunsparce: arent ur tits always hanging out anyway
> peachikinn: we want a thong and nipple pasties
> verstrappon69: damn yall horny asf today lmao
She muses some of the suggestions, from Christmas themed to even the lewdest, and it's clear that none of these are taken seriously. It's just her fans being fans, and she's just humoring them.
"That's not a bad idea," she says, staring directly into the camera as user numlocked recommends an indie title called Hollow Knight, a game she's been putting off for some time while waiting for the sequel to drop. "Maybe we can do both games in the subathon. Or at least the first one. Depends on how well I'm feeling that day. I'll check my current timetable."
From there, Hyewon returns to the game and finishes off the rival without much trouble.
"Alright, this was fun. Not too bad so far. Glad everyone's enjoying it, so we'll definitely return to this. Not sure when though. But anyway—housekeeping time! The subathon's starting in two weeks. Don't forget to subscribe and follow me on my socials, such as Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram. Shoutout again to everyone who donated, became subs and who got gifted, you can get access to a dedicated Discord server where I chat sometimes; link's in the pinned comment! And of course, you know the drill," she says, straightening her posture.
Oh, that's right. The lucky draw.
"Good luck to all the viewers in chat!" she says, clicking on the wheel and letting fate decide.
It's a big wheel, and there's no guarantee that it'll land on you. All you can do is watch and pray and hope for the best.
> bananaleclercc: :prayge:
> numlocked: what does winning the lucky draw actually mean, am new here
> ddeunsparce: You get a personal fancall with her XD Shes like a K-pop idol but a streamer
> verstrappon69: YOOOOO THEY JUST ANNOUNCED MEGA FLYGON WTF (no troll)
And while the wheel continues to spin, your thoughts drift off.
"Well, would you look at that," Hyewon says, gazing down at the wheel and its results. "Our resident gifter has actually won!"
You.
The chat immediately spams obligatory Ws in celebration.
"Congrats! I'm gonna DM you to hash things out. Guess it's kinda overdue, with how many memberships and donations you've given these past few months, but never too late!"
It's no surprise you've won. If anything, it is indeed an overdue victory. After all, the odds have been stacked heavily in your favor. For the past few months, you've been consistently donating, gifting memberships to other users, and the rest of the time, lurking, only giving advice whenever she plays Pokémon. You're her most active viewer in her streams, even when you don't talk much. And the amount of activity you've done in her streams has certainly not gone unnoticed.
"Hey. Hey, you still with me?"
Hyewon jokingly snaps a finger in front of the camera. You haven't been active in chat for at least five minutes, since the winner usually has to talk in the chat box when they win.
> here, spazzed a bit lol
"Hey, no worries. Again, I'll message you after the stream so we can sort out the details. And thank you again Hyemdans, for the donations, and the subs and everything. Not sure when I'll stream again; definitely not tomorrow, got some family to meet. Saturday for sure."
The chat say their goodbyes, spamming 'W stream' in between.
"Alright, see ya chat! Thanks for watching!"
The screen goes blank with the message 'Stream: Offline' now flashing instead.
But life immediately comes back to your computer; hyem_hyemu messages you private in Discord minutes later.
> hyem_hyemu: grats on the win! was lowkey hoping you'd win it at some point haha
> hyem_hyemu: ignore those donation haters. you're lowkey my biggest supporter and it's about time we got the chance to talk
> hyem_hyemu: cause let's face it, you're not here just for the view
> hyem_hyemu: ......am i right
Your eyes drift off, looking away. Even though it's just words on a screen, you can feel every word, as if she were personally talking to you.
> you: wouldn't be the first time
> you: so. when's a good time for the call
> you: and what are the rules?
> hyem_hyemu: it'll have to be a bit later
> hyem_hyemu: couple hours
> hyem_hyemu: gotta shower and do some stuff
> hyem_hyemu: anytime after is fine!
> you: got it
> you: catch u later :D
In the meantime, as you lie in bed, head pressed against the pillow, your cock stiffens in your grasp, pumping slowly, languidly. Your eyes shut, imagining your hands are hers.
"How's my Hyemdan doing? Are you touching yourself? Show me."
You've been thinking about her for hours. Even when she's on stream, casually cursing out lag or her opponent for being too good, of course your eyes fall on those tits she blatantly likes to show off for views. But tonight's special; it's the moment you've been waiting for: where you finally get to see her—just you and not the other hundreds of anonymous users pervading the chat.
"Now, are you ready, baby? To make a mess of yourself?"
Hyewon's voice is silky smooth, sultry and seductive, like she's beckoning you to fuck her.
"Are you ready, baby? How badly do you want me?"
You pump harder, faster, your tip leaking, a sign that you're close to finishing.
"Cum for me."
Imagining her hands are around your cock, you edge yourself, stroking to oblivion, unabashedly moaning, groaning, panting, acting like she's on top of you, riding it, bouncing on it, letting her tits smother your face—
It's only just your imagination filling in the gaps, but it feels real. One hand's on your shaft, the other on your phone, watching a compilation of Hyewon's sexy TikTok dance challenges on Reddit. Even in those, she's still pushing the boundaries of what classifies as explicit, dressing in the most skimpy outfits imaginable.
And then, the notification from Discord: a private server invite from hyem_hyemu to get your promised video call.
Snapping from your daze and quickly collecting yourself, you rush back to your computer setup and go from there. She's already on the voice channel, waiting for your arrival.
So you hop on.
"Hey!"
"Hey."
The difference in your voices is night and day; hers is casual, relaxed, while you're nervous, antsy, probably worse because the lingering thought is there, the notion you'd been rubbing one to her mere minutes ago, even though she has no fucking clue about that—and never will.
Hyewon turns the camera back on. "Glad you could join me. Sorry I'm a bit late, but here I am!"
"No, no, no, don't worry. I had to finish—something. But it's no big deal, really. Anyway, hi, and thanks for inviting me to this call."
"Of course. I've been wanting to have a proper chat with you for a while. Like, you're always in my streams, donating, giving memberships, offering advice—the usual."
"I'm a huge fan. Always have been, ever since your days as an idol."
"Oh, yeah. Those were the days. Hard to believe I'm streaming full-time now. Wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to keep doing the idol thing, and this seemed like the better option."
"Why's that?"
"Oh, you know. Money. Time. Idol groups are on 24/7, and I've given it a go, but I wasn't really good enough. But enough about that. Let's cut to the chase, shall we?"
The change in conversation throws you off for a second.
"Uh—sure."
Hyewon leans forward like always. Tits pressed together, still in her black nightie from earlier. "What do you want me to do for you?"
"H-huh?"
"The fancall. That's what you want, right? A little private time between us, no distractions?"
"Um."
"Don't play coy. We can't do anything if you don't tell me what you want."
And that's got your head spinning. Most of the winners, the ones you've talked to at least, said they spent somewhere between 10 minutes up to an hour with their calls, ranging from the safe (gaming session) to the cringe inducing (making her do aegyo like during her idol days). You, on the other hand, have far worse ideas in mind, but you're not entirely sure whether it's even worth possibly your one and only chance. One wrong move and everything—your money, your name, your dignity—can disappear.
"So?" Hyewon drums her fingers, impatiently waiting. "We don't have all night. But it's okay, take your time."
Even though you're confined to the four corners of your apartment, you're bouncing left and right, as if the whole world's about to judge you for what you're about to say. It's a slow, embarrassing admission, churning the gears in your brain.
"I—uh, would like to, you know—see more."
"Hm?" she raises a puzzled eyebrow.
"I mean—"
"You don't need to explain yourself. I understood right away." Hyewon's smiling from ear to ear, showing glimpses of her idol self. "You want me to undress for you, right?"
Your eyes snap wide open. You almost fall back on your gamer chair. "I–"
"C'mon. Don't be shy. Of course you do."
You can barely squeak a reply, but you manage a simple "Y-yeah."
"Hey. This is the same person who gets asked to strip or just wear thongs every stream. I might be stupid at gaming, but not that stupid."
Considering that you're a regular in her stream chats, you probably should have known she's used to such degenerate filth by now.
"I figured," you mutter, your tone gradually dying. Regardless of how you would have said it, there’s no clearcut way to state your intention without coming off as another pervert or gooner—which you are. "Just wanted to make sure."
"Well now that you've confessed, what else can I do for you?" Hyewon slides off one strap of her nightie, hiding nothing beneath that thin piece of fabric. She's usually braless when she goes live too, but it's a good reminder of how natural her tits are.
You're already foaming at the mouth, sputtering through your words."I—"
"Actually," she adds, fiddling with the other strap, leaning closer on her camera, but deliberately not slipping it down, keeping you on edge. "I want to see your face. If it's convenient for you."
The sudden request throws you off even further. All this time, you've been tiptoeing around the fact you've been pleasuring yourself to her, and now it seems like your sins are finally coming to light. It's a day of reckoning.
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Not much. I guess I could say it's only fair if I'm undressing for my top dono and sub gifter, but it's up to you. I'm not gonna force you if you don't wanna—"
Your camera turns on, by your accord, before she can finish. And Hyewon's eyes widen in surprise.
"Ah."
"Yeah."
Almost immediately, the air thickens, and tension has never felt higher even though you're worlds apart. Her expression's the same: half-smirk, half-smile, knowing and aware of her power over you.
"Ooh, we've got a pretty cute looking fella," she says, snickering, but genuine. "Would be a shame if something happened while we're talking, wouldn't it?"
"I don't think so," you reply, nonchalant but clearly flush with shyness all over.
"I suppose it wouldn't."
Hyewon flashes a wicked grin, a look that would make any viewer weak. How much more when you're the sole witness.
"Can I ask you something?" you say.
"Sure."
"If this was anyone else, would you have done this?"
"Depends on the person. This isn't the first time someone's asked me to strip for them, but hey, I'm kinda forced to—by my own rules."
"Ever turned someone down before?"
"A few times, yeah. Mostly excusing it to scars or blood, but I think this one's a worthy recipient." And she’s referring to none other than you.
Without waiting a second further, she lets the other strap of her nightie down her shoulder. Pushing the rest of the dress down her slender frame, Hyewon leaves little to your imagination; she's as perky as you'd envisioned, all tits and hourglass-shaped in the rest, still carrying remnants of her idol physique. And when she stands up to let you bask in the rest of her nude figure, revealing that she's not wearing panties beneath—
You might as well die right then and there. She's left you utterly smitten.
"Wow."
"First time I've heard that," Hyewon giggles playfully, covering her mouth, lowering her head as if it'd been out of view.
"I'm sorry, I can't help it. You're fucking hot, Hyem, but seeing you actually naked like this—"
"Hey. You asked, and you got it," she remarks, sitting back down, this time a bit distant from the webcam to let you bask in her slender, creamy legs. "Now, can you do a little something for me in return?"
"Of course. Anything for you, Hyem."
You're trying to keep your eyes on her face, maintaining some semblance of class, of control, but when a naked woman like Hyewon is on the other side—it just isn't possible. Not in the slightest.
"I want you to undress for me," she then says, deflecting your request back.
"What?"
"You heard me," Hyewon smiles casually, knowing there's no workaround, no tiptoeing the lines. "It's only fair that I showed my body; now it's your turn."
You don't protest, nor do you have the capacity to do so. Within seconds, you're standing up, shedding off your shirt, then your shorts, leaving you equally naked, save for the boxers before sitting back down. All throughout, the rosiness spreads through your body and constantly lingers as she intently watches you strip.
"Forgetting something," she deadpans. Not her. You.
You feign ignorance for a bit as she idly sits there, waiting. It overcomes you—the shame, the awkwardness. So you slip your boxers down too, leaving you utterly exposed before her eyes.
"Not bad," Hyewon says as you cover up your cock with your hands, fully hard in her presence. "Hey. We're both naked right now," she adds, tilting her head, piercing your soul with her gaze. "No point hiding it."
You slowly part your legs, allowing her the opportunity to see, and she leans forward, her tits pressed together again, her eyes locked on your cock, and her lips part, a smile tugging at the corners.
"See. Now that wasn't so difficult, was it?"
There's nothing you can say or do. She's the one calling the shots. The one dictating what happens.
"It's all mine," she whispers, and those three words set you aflame.
"Anything for you, Hyem." You'll do everything at this point, down to getting on your hands and knees.
"Such a sweetheart," Hyewon comments, raising an eyebrow. "I'd love to see how sweet you are. In person."
"I'll be anywhere you want, Hyem," you remark.
"Don't know my address, silly," she reiterates. "But for now, I want to see you stroke one for me."
The audacity of her demand. Almost like she's read your mind and studied it extensively. Surely, she has no clue about how much you've given for her just by watching, by viewing her thirst trap photos, and of course, what you were doing minutes prior to this video call. It makes your brain go hazy thinking about it.
"What?"
"You heard me." Hyewon crosses her leg sitting down, like a queen establishing her throne. "Need you to prove how much you want this."
As if getting naked for her wasn't enough. How you'd crawl over glass, step on Legos to reaffirm your devotion.
"Hyem, I—"
"Go ahead. Touch yourself," she commands, leaving no room for argument. "Look at me while you're doing it."
Still, you freeze up, incredibly hesitant when you're finally put under her microscope, under her judging eye.
"Hey. Eyes on me. Only me," she reiterates, and the clock is ticking. The lingering thought that she can click off at any time is what finally spurs you.
That's when you begin, pumping your hard shaft, pretending that this is the real thing: Hyewon beneath you, taking your cock in her cunt, overwhelmed by heavenly bliss beyond comprehension. Your eyes, however, are not looking into hers, but instead, the space between her legs, and the sight of her legs spreading gradually, glistening with her sheen, sends you into overdrive.
"See something you like, babe?"
"F-fuck—" you mutter out, feeling the sensation kick in, letting your instincts take over. "Your cunt—so wet—"
"That's right." Hyewon squeezes a breast with her hand, reaching down to her core with the other, brushing it gently to tease. "You imagine fucking this? Going hard inside me? Treating my body like your personal fuckdoll?"
"Fuck yes, Hye—holy fuck—"
It's here where your inhibitions disappear—and for good. No longer bound to pressure, finally letting loose, with Hyewon herself allowing you to act out all your fantasies right on the screen.
"I bet you've been dreaming about this moment. Touching yourself whenever I stream. Getting a taste of this body. Imagining fucking me every day and every night. Is that right?"
You nod vigorously, not a hint of hesitation in your mind. The strokes ramp up in pace too, faster and faster.
"Say it. Say it aloud. Tell me what you wanna do."
"Touch you, kiss you, fuck you, use your holes. Every single one, Hye—I want to fuck you senseless."
"Tell me: what's the first thing you wanna do? Start with the first thing on your mind. I wanna hear it straight from your lips. Tell me everything."
"Eat you out," you blurt out without a second thought, biting on your lower lip. "Eat your pussy, drink up your slick. Lick and suck on your clit, make you cum."
"Go on." Hyewon begins to pleasure herself on camera too, stroking her cunt, body trembling, toes curling, squeezing her one breast a bit tighter.
"Then I'd have you on your fours—" you breathe, gasping and focusing on getting off to the very image splayed on your screen. To say it's pornographic would be the understatement of the century. If she weren't streaming games, you're 100% certain she'd be doing adult videos instead. Might as well; her outfits aren't far off. "I'd have you on camera—moaning and keening—while I fuck you from behind—"
"Fuck—fuck—that's so hot—" she whines out, ramping up in pace as well. "Keep going—"
"Doing it while squeezing your breast—sucking and licking it up when you ride me—and tell me how good my cock feels—"
"It feels so fucking good—" she blurts out, head drawn back, fully engrossed in her own pleasure. "God, yes—fuck me up—"
"Licking and kissing your neck—"
"Marking me—claiming me—your personal fucktoy—"
"Letting me know whose hole I can use—when I feel like it—"
"My entire body is yours—"
"Hands around your throat—"
"Touching and groping, making a mess of me—demanding I call you your cumdump—"
"Cumming inside, filling you up with my load—"
"God, yes, fill me, fill me up—!"
"Stuffing you full, marking your womb—"
"Take me, mark me, claim me—"
"Giving you every drop of my cum, showing who owns this body—"
"You. You. You. Fuck!"
And it's this affirmation that sends you flying over the edge.
The pace had grown past the point of control, beyond what you could bear. Even through a distorted microphone, you can feel the wanton need in her voice, the genuine depravity. How bad she fucking wants it, and how fucking bad you need it too.
"Yes, baby—cum for me—give it all to me—" Hyewon moans, and the instant she sees your load shoot out, painting the desk and parts of the screen white, she's also sent careening over the line, her fingers digging deep into her pussy, squirting clear juices, specks hitting the keyboard, the monitor, and the mic.
"F-fuck! God, fuck!"
The last spurt of her cum spurts onto the desk. Not a lot, but enough to leave a lasting memory. Hyewon arches against her chair, her body fidgeting uncontrollably, unable to stop her fingers through her orgasm. It's heavenly, divine. Everything you both wanted it to be—and you aren't anywhere near each other.
Both of you slump back in your respective seats, letting your peaks subside gradually. Every muscle aches. Every deep breath is a miracle. You can only imagine what the other is feeling after all that.
You're the first to regain some semblance of consciousness, your tone raspy and exhausted. "Fucking hell."
"Yeah." The answer on Hyewon's end is low, borderline stifled that you can blame the thick load of slick for potentially ruining her setup. "Shit—it's everywhere—"
On the screen, on the keyboard, on her chair, on the floor.
"Good," you blurt out, chuckling with delight. "Means that you feel the same way."
"Or maybe I'm just horny and in need of a good dicking," she retorts, keeping some distance between her and your hopes that this can get beyond first base or the talking stage.
"Then you know who to call," you joke.
"Fuck off." Hyewon fires back, quickly rushing to find some tissues to clean up her mess. You're more than content to stay a while, basking in the handiwork you've made. "A few thousand on me doesn't automatically make me yours."
"But it does mean I get to watch you strip and touch yourself on camera," you tease cockily. "Shame you're cleaning up already. My cum looks nice flowing down your legs."
She shoots you an exasperated look through the screen that elicits a toothy grin and chuckle on your end. "You mean my slick, yes?"
"Right, right."
"But yeah. I'm gonna have to call it here," she then blurts out, finally clearing her chair of her arousal. "Getting late and I gotta be up early."
"Unfortunate. It was just getting good too."
"True. That was a bit of fun," she admits, and your ego has never felt more over the moon.
"So when will we do this again?" you ask, testing how far your hubris can go, but she immediately shuts it down before it's even got off the starting line.
"When you win another lucky draw," she answers smugly, smiling widely as a taunt. "Good luck now that I have over 3000 subs!"
"Don't want my money anymore, then?"
"Fuck you."
"Heh. That's why I love you, Hye. More than just your banging body, you're such a cute soul."
"And you're such a prick, you know that?"
"Not the first time I've been told."
Hyewon simply shakes her head and concedes. "Aight, I gotta get off. Congrats again and see you on the next stream."
"Bet."
But not without leaving a parting gift: she playfully kisses the cum-stained part of her webcam, applying her signature through the air before the screen goes dark, leaving you with your own thoughts.
"God. This woman is gonna be the end of me."
One thing is for sure: that next stream is gonna be something different.
Author's note: So excited to write another long fic collab, this time with the lovely @ducktoo, he is such an amazing writer and it was an honor to write him, make sure to check his own blogs because he is basically one of the fronts of the fluff renaissance
Ducktoo's note: Seoyeon is patootie. Stan tripleS and Stan leafo.
Thanks to @erospandemos for beta reading and with that, we both hope you will enjoy this fic
word count: 10.7k words
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“Dont get me wrong, you seem like a great guy but this date kind of felt…bland”
It repeated nonstop in your head like a mantra. You were certain that you acted normal. Dressed smart casual. Nice perfume. Minty breath. You two were having steak for dinner, and the vibe was quite nice.
And yet. The word "bland" hits you harder than you ever thought.
You kept thinking back to it as you glanced up at the clock. 11pm (yikes). And you're not even sure why you stayed here at the bar next door.
Maybe it was the dim lights — sometimes alight and sometimes half-dead hanging over the counter, flickering every once in a while like they were just as dead as you are. Or maybe it was the bartender's silent pity at each glance. But honestly, nothing beats the sting of being called boring repetitively by each date as they walked out halfway through dinner.
"Tsk…fuck this" you muttered under your breath, swirling what was left of your whiskey. The ice clinked against the glass like it was mocking you.
"…you look like someone who just got rejected by a date." A voice piped up from your left.
You didn't even bother to look. "Yeah, well maybe I am."
That certainly hits her humour, judging by that low, amused sound. "Yikes. Self-awareness. You don't see that often at this hour."
You finally turned your head and there she was. Blonde hair. Hoodie two sizes too big. A can of beer in one hand and a bowl of peanuts. Well, her cheeks were the most puffy you have ever seen, but the main point is that she looked far too relaxed for someone sitting in a half-empty bar at midnight.
"…do I know you from somewhere?"
"Don't think so." She replied. "But it was more interesting here than staring at the spider web at the corner, so I figured why not give you some decent company?"
You stared at her. "…I'm good."
"Sure, buddy." She replied immediately, grinning as she slid onto the stool beside you, pushing the bowl of peanuts between you two. "You don't say good when you down that whiskey at midnight."
You tried to search through your tired brain for a comeback. Nothing came out. "…I'm sure I'm fine."
"Of course, I can see it in your eyes." She popped a peanut to her mouth, even without saying anything you can feel like she is mocking you. "So, what's the tea? Girl trouble? Job crisis? Being kicked back to Iron 1?"
You sighed. "Date trouble. She left. Said I was too boring."
Her eyes lit up like she'd found something fun. "Oh wow, interesting. A ‘too honest to the face’ breakup. Poor you."
"Well, it's not really a breakup. More like an early escape." you admit.
"Gosh, extra brutal." She laughed as she popped another peanut to her mouth. "Let me guess, first date?"
"Third, actually." You exhaled. "…which is far worse."
"Because it means she really tried?"
You squinted your eyes at her. "Do you always psychoanalyse strangers in bars?"
"Ehh…only the interesting ones." She sipped her beer. "Beats staring at the web."
You unexpectedly huffed a short laugh. "You must have a lot of free time, huh?"
"Wayy too much," she mocked. "What did you even do, buddy? Talk about stocks? How is mitochondria the powerhouse of the cell?"
"I said that I didn't believe in love."
A second of silence, and then she starts laughing followed by a little slam of her fist on the mahogany, you can tell she tries her best not to make a scene. She fails. “Okay… you just turned from interesting to really interesting” she says, taking a deep sigh after letting her laughter go away. “Okay then, tell me about this ‘I don't believe in love’ theory you got there…” she leans closer, her chin finds its rest on her palms as she looks at you with a bit too much curiosity, as if you just said to her that the world is a triangle.
“Doesnt really feel like a theory when five dates in a row i get the ‘I just don't see the spark between us’ text after a date, or it just goes straight to the ghost zone”
“Maybe it's because of your negative mentality? I don't know, just throwing out a guess” another peanut in her mouth.
“I’m not negative, I am just realistic about my situation” you explain.
“Yeah, it's realistic that you are a negative nancy,” she finished. "But honestly, if I were her, I'd have left too."
You frowned. "One, rude. And two, you don't even know me."
"I don't have to." She tilted her head. "You exude this pessimistic aura that I can sense from the corner of the room. I bet you're one of those guys that say he doesn't believe in love but still listens to sad ballads when he's drunk."
You ignored that playlist of songs she just called you out for on your phone. "…Okay, first of all, I don't –"
And she cuts in. "Bet your playlist is named something like 'Fuck Love but I still fucking miss you'?"
You rubbed your temple, unsure if it was because of the alcohol or it was her. "…has anyone ever told you that you are really nosy?"
"No, but I bet everyone tells you that you're quite predictable. Mr. Moody." She shot back. "Anyway, I'm sure that your next date will go better."
"I wish." You breathed, voice a bit quieter and tired. "At this point, I'm certain that people fall in love with the idea of someone, not the actual person. And then they wake up one day and realise they were just in love with how it felt to be wanted."
She was quiet for a moment. Then she let out this tiny, almost mischievous chuckle. "That…is the saddest thing I have ever heard."
"I'm so delighted that I'm your entertainment tonight." You deadpanned.
"But…" She chugged the remainder of her pint, as if she was pumping herself for some grand announcement. "…you are wrong, one hundred percent.”
It is ridiculous to argue with a random girl in a bar, but the inner you decides to challenge her, starting with the trigger: “Okay, prove it then”
“Sure, let's bet on it then” she retorts, her voice full of confidence.
You raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Yeah." She straightened up (or tried to. She just downed a pint, after all). "I'll make you fall in love with me."
One second. And then two. And then you had to hold your laugh. "What?"
"...in the span of 24 hours. Starting at 12 AM today, which is ...in about 4 minutes" Her tone was deadly serious for someone who (allegedly) is drunk. “I will make you say ‘I love you’, what do you say?”
You were aware that you just had whiskey, but surely no way in your life you would make a statement like that. Even with liquid courage. "…Are you serious?"
"Oh yes. absolutely" She roared, standing up and slammed down a few bills on the counter. "You think love's dead? Fine, let's resurrect it."
"Are you drunk?" You stood up with her, hand scratching the side of your head from confusion
"Probably, but I know I'm not wrong." She responded, hand now reaching toward you. “So what do you say, are you in?”
Alrighty. Let’s assess this situation: this random girl (which by the way you don't even know) came to you, mocked you about your love life and now she wants to bet that she can make you fall in love with her in 24 hours. This can't be real, it has to be a prank. Has to be.
However, as much as you want to just laugh and walk away to just crash at your place and forget that shitshow of a date, a small part of you wants to take this challenge, prove that this nativity of hers doesn't have a place in the real world.
Besides, it's not like this would totally waste your time. Right?
…Right?
“What happens if you fail?” You ask in a curious tone.
“I won't bother you ever again, and you will prove that maybe this mindset of yours is actually correct…well, in your case at least,” she states, no sign of uncertainty in your voice, it's as if she knows she will win. “Besides, I highly doubt you have anything better to do, besides crying about GenG missing the finals again”
“Ok, I don’t cry just because an E-sport team is missing the–.” Before you could fully finish your opinion, she grabbed your wrist and dragged you with her out of the bar. “Wait— I haven’t pay–”
“I already paid your share. And that’s enough depression for one night, mister.”
The cold air smacked your face awake as she pulled you through the bar and into the street. You stumbled after her, double–no, triple guessing if she was being actually serious.
“You are one insane girl.”
“Mhm.” She hummed, waving down a taxi as casual as another night. “Yet you are still coming with me.”
“Why would I do that? I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
She opened the door and turned to you with a wide grin. “Well, you could’ve pushed me away by now. Or any other instances back inside. So I take that as an agreement.”
She wasn’t wrong.
And for that reason alone, you got inside the car. The ride was quiet, mainly because the alcohol was definitely taking its effect. The taxi started rolling, street lights streaking past the windows as the city was deep in its slumber. You, however, barely had time to even breathe before she turned to you with eyes wide and alive.
You thought the job interviews were tough, but this was even more draining. She started barraging you with standard questions. “What’s your name?” “What do you do for work?” “How old are you?” But then the question starts being more nosy. “Favourite food?” “Favourite movie?” “Did you cry while watching Your Name?”
You ran out of breath after answering every single question of hers that you forgot a crucial detail. “...You didn’t even tell me your name.”
“Oh. oops.” She turned her head, acting as if she didn’t forget about that part too. Instead, she gave out a lazy yet confident smile. “Seoyeon. Yoon Seoyeon.”
You exhaled, leaning back against the seat. “Well, you are something, Yoon Seoyeon.”
“Don’t fall for me too fast then.” She turned away to look at her phone. 12 am. Midnight. “We got 24 hours to kill.”
-
The taxi stops somewhere that definitely is not romantic.
No skyline view, no fancy steaks, no modernist decor and interior. Just the good old dull flicker of a 24-hour convenience store sign, buzzing like it’s barely hanging on.
You look out the window, and then back at her. “...We could’ve gone to a family restaurant.”
“We could.” Seoyeon chuckled, already paying the driver. “But at least here there won’t be nosy people peeping our very deep ranting.”
Before you can protest, she already hopped out of the car. You sighed, reluctantly following her into the store. The door’s chime greeting you like an old friend that was the last person you want to see right now. The damn LED lights are way too bright, casting everything in that sterile glow that makes you wonder at which part of this trip you should’ve run. You yawned as the clock ticked in the background. 12:30 am.
Regardless of your mood, Seoyeon already beelined straight to the instant ramen aisle. “Alright, boring boy!” She calls out. “Do you want Neoguri, Shin, or Buldak?”
You just grabbed one without paying attention. “This one.”
“...X2 Buldak?” Her tone impressed. “Wow, must’ve been a terrible day then.”
“You don’t say.”
The cashier gives the two of you a tired look as Seoyeon pays for both cups (She ended up with a normal Buldak) and a pair of small milk boxes. And then she leads you outside (after cooking the noodles, duh), where she promptly sits down on the curb like it was a five-star restaurant. You hesitate for a second, both hands full of the noodle cup and milk box, before sitting beside her.
Steam rises from the cup as you both stir the noodles in silence for a bit. Wild situation, you tell yourself, midnight ramen on a curb with a girl (quite pretty, now that you feel sober) who promptly kidnapped you from a bar. But the air was cool, the city continued its slumber, and the night didn't feel that heavy.
This sounds a whole lot like a date.
Seoyeon takes the first bite and lets out an exaggerated groan. “Mmph! Who made this?!” She pointed to the cup in a weirdly comedic manner.
“...It’s just buldak.” You blew your noodle before slurping it, the chemical spice immediately kicks in.
“At least it has flavours compared to those high end places.”
Well, she ain’t wrong. “Ok. You got a point.” You muffled the noodles and spices stuffed in your mouth.
“Woah, that's the first point you agreed with me.” She points the chopsticks at you. “Guess I am doing something right then.”
You chuckled under your breath, finally swallowing that (admittingly satisfying) bite. “Fine, fine.”
She takes another bite, then looks over at you. “Anyway, tell me something, boring boy. When did you decide it was all fake?”
You paused mid-your-second-slurp. “Wow, straight to the point huh.”
“Time’s ticking, remember?” She tapped on the invisible wristwatch. “Twenty four hours.”
You sighed. “Well…unsure, actually. Maybe after being called boring too many times and watching people jumping from one person after another like a game. I’m certain that they just want comfort until it gets inconvenient.”
“Damn.” She mutters, looking up at the lamp post. “That is so depressing.”
“It’s realistic though,” You countered. “Love’s basically just…convenience with better lighting.”
She turned back to you, studying your features. “Now you sound even MORE like someone who got ghosted multiple times.”
That constitutes a side eye from you. “...weirdly specific.”
“Hey,” She elbowed you. “We both know I’m observant at this point.”
“I suppose so.” You put down the wooden chopsticks to the cup. “What about you? What’s your take on love?”
She took another bite (a big one, as if she was amping herself up for the quote of the year) then, with a quieter tone, said: “I don’t believe in love either.”
That is ‘quote-of-the-year’ enough, because damn. “You don’t?!”
“Not the movie kind, you know?” She took a deep breath. “I think people meet the right ones, though. The ones who make things feel…lighter, comfortable. Doesn’t have to be forever, maybe, but enough that it matters. That’s all it really is.”
…Wow.
You finally took a good look at her. The lone streetlight painted her face in soft warm white hues, a few blonde stray hairs escaping her bun, and the glint of tired honesty in her eyes (or she was just drowsy). Something felt unreasonably real in that moment, and it threw you off that it came from this stranger who, just an hour ago, was very chirpy and…honestly, a ball of sunshine.
“...not a bad way to see it, actually.”
She grinned, breaking the weight of her own words. “See? I’m not just a pretty face.”
“Eh, debatable.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said it was relatable.”
“You are such a fucking liar.” She laughed, poking your arm with her (dirty) chopsticks.
“Oh m– don’t poke me with that!” You groaned. “Where are your manners? The heck.”
“And yet,” She leaned in. “You haven’t walked away yet.”
Why would you when this has been far more interesting than the past 5 dates you have been in? Wait shouldn't you be against this?
By the time you two finished eating, the night had gone far quieter. The wind carried a faint chill now, brushing past the empty street like a sigh. You finally stood up, stretching your back, and fished out your phone. 3:02 am.
Wow, time flies when you are having fun.
“Guess I should head home.” You exhaled.
“Where do you live?”
“Uhh…” You checked the map on your phone. “Ten minutes from here.”
She got up, brushing her noodle cup aside. “I’ll walk you home, boring boy.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Please.” She already took a few steps forward. “If I let you wander alone, that’s bad PR for the challenge.”
“That you started by yourself…” You rolled your eyes but followed anyway. The two of you walked in silence for a while, accompanied by the soft crunch of gravel under your shoes, and her humming something under her breath (whatever it was, her voice was making it better).
When you two finally stopped in front of your apartment, she looked at you with that same (admittingly charming) stupid grin.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow…boyfriend.”
You blinked, ignoring how palpitating your heart got. “W-what?”
“Don’t forget, the clock’s still ticking.” She chuckled, taking a few steps backward down the street. “But if you start missing me before tomorrow morning, just say that I won, okay?”
You laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “What did I get myself into…?”
She waved lazily, her silhouette fading into the quiet glow of the streetlights. “You’re laughing already. That’s three hours in. Good night, boring boy.”
You just stood there in front of your door for a while, staring at the empty street, the faint smell of Buldak still clinging to your clothes. But for some reason, you couldn’t stop smiling either.
-
You can't tell how much time has passed since you crashed on your bed, now being woken up by the oh-so-serene sounds of loud knocks, coming from outside your apartment. You reach your hand to check the time on your phone, 6 AM.
Fucking hell.
“Who even knocks this loudly this early?” You groaned, slowly managing to get out of the bed, the knocks are still insistent as you head toward the noise and as you open the door, you are met by non other than Yoon Seoyeon
You know, you only met her like 3 hours ago, but you had a feeling she would do something like this.
Gone was the casual hoodie with her hair bundled up in a bun you remembered last night. Now she has this flowy white sundress that goes all the way down to her knees, fluttering slightly with the hallway breeze, her blonde hair loose and wavy. Maybe it was the waffling smell of tomato and fresh vegetables, but you followed the smell through your nose down to the huge basket that is certainly half her height in her hand.
“Morning, did you sleep well?” Seoyeon asks, her tone is as cheerful as she is, annoyingly cheerful if you have to add.
“...we just met like 3 hours ago.”
“So you remembered me. Good sign.” She beamed, maybe too bright for still at the break of dawn.
“I barely got any-” You were barely yawning your sluggish words out before she immediately cut you off.
“Good, get ready, we have a long day and…. I want to win this bet.” She states, giving you two small pats on your shoulder to help you fully wake up, only then she remembers her manners. “Oops, uh…Can I come in?”
You blink, twice. At this point, decency is out of the window, and you don't even want to argue with her so you just nod, moving aside to let her in while you are heading towards your bathroom. Half-grumbling, half-mumbling curses under your breath about over-enthusiastic girls and weirdly bad life choices.
While you were in there, Seoyeon hums softly as she sets the basket down on the counter, peeking curiously around your place like a cat. She crouches beside your small shelf, tilting her head at the stack of books, and then the empty energy drink cans that you forgot to clean up. (To be fair, you were expecting no one here at 6am).
“Boring Boy!” She calls out, her chirpy voice echoing through the space. “You live exactly like a young adult, dude!”
“Thanks, whatever.” You replied flatly behind the bathroom door. “Nicest insult I can get this early.”
The peace returned, but not for long until…
“You don’t lock your bathroom door?”
You choked on your toothpaste mid-brush. “What?”
“Just saying.” and you can swear you could FEEL the smugness coming from her tone. “That’s a bold move for a lonely guy.”
“Well, because I live alone…Jeez.”
You rinse, spit, and open the door a few minutes later, towel around your neck with your hair still damp. Seoyeon definitely got the memo “get yourself comfortable” literally, as she sat on your couch now without a damn, scrolling through the phone, and the basket of food sitting neatly beside her feet. She looks up the moment you walk to the couch, and her gaze flicks up once. From your face, to your collarbone, and then down to your half-buttoned shirt.
And this girl didn’t even try to hide her smile.
“...what now?” You narrowed your eyes.
“Nothing.” It was suspiciously quick. “Are you ready yet?”
“Yes, now I am ready to go” you sigh, finishing buttoning your shirt while you grab your phone, keys and the wallet from the desk before walking out the door with Seoyeon by your side.
“Great, I have a lot of plans for today, let's get going” she responds, already heading out of your complex with you behind her since you were busy locking your door.
Now the two of you are walking on the streets beside each other, the early morning greets you with silence. Although, you can feel her gaze on you every now and then, more specifically how her eyes kept on wandering downward.
“You work out?” her question was surprisingly shorter than usual, still refusing to look into your eyes.
“Uh yeah, sometimes, why?”
“Nothing, just curious” she responds quickly, finally snapping her gaze toward, suddenly on her face there was a cheeky grin as she adds in a playful. “Just…liking what i see~”
Nothing, yeah totally.
You raised an eyebrow. “You were totally checking me out, ma’am.”
“Please,” she scoffs with exaggerated offense. “It’s not like I was looking at your midriff or anything.”
“...well that is not creepy at all.”
“It’s only creepy if I was catcalling, am I?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“No, I am pretty sure it's creepy regardless” you state, matter-of-factly.
“You see? Thats why i am not catcalling, i am just smiling to myself and…getting excited, if you know what i mean, right?~” She adds in a playful tone as you mentally take note of the lack of filter Seoyeon seems to have.
“Nope, no idea, i will say though: it is kind of funny to walk around with toothpaste stains on the cheek”
She freezes. “Wait, huh?”
“Yeah.” You grin. “You’ve got one.”
“Where?”
You pointed at your own cheek. She immediately rubs hers with the back of her hand, checking her phone’s reflection…only to find nothing.
“You jackass.”
“Pff.” It was too funny to not laugh right there. “That’s what you get for being a perv.”
“I’m no– ugh.” She groaned, but there was no bite. ‘Let’s go, I’m hungry already.”
As you followed her (still grumpily walking) from behind, you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how fun it is to tease this girl. Checking your phone, the screen reflects back to you. 6.30am.
Damn it. Only a fifth of the way in the challenge, and you are already beaming. And that realisation annoys you even more than all the chaos she caused.
~~
7 am. And the first thing you expected at this time is not by the sea, but knowing her: you should just start expecting the unexpected
By the time both of you reached the coastline, the city had only just begun to take up. The air smelled like salt and due, with the faintest trace of the ocean brushing against your face with every soft gust. The grey blue horizon begins to be painted by the golden glow of the sun, slowly coming up from the waves.
Seoyeon, as usual at this point, looked completely awake for someone who probably had less sleep than you. Her sandals made these light crunching sounds against the sand as she carried that massive basket like it weighed nothing.
You followed (too late to back out now), while letting out a wide yawn that your jaw might drop. “You do realise most people are still asleep right now, yea?”
“Yea, and most people are boring.” She countered without a beat.
“Huh. Can’t argue with that.”
She stopped near a flat stretch of sand and knelt down, setting the basket in front of her. “Perfect.” she declared, dusting her hands together.
You looked around the spot. Quiet beach, light breeze, the ocean murmuring in the background. Like a date. Maybe?
Well no shit Sherlock, it is a date. What challenge are you doing again?
“I’ll give you that.” You admitted. “Good choice.”
She looked up at you with that same grin (which lowkey has started to affect you). “See? I have taste.”
“...You also showed up at 6 in the morning to drag a guy you just met out of bed, so your credibility’s questionable.”
As usual, she ignored your banter, and was already fishing out stuff from the basket. A blanket, a thermos, two sandwiches wrapped in plastic wraps (which explains the tomato and fresh vegetable), and what looked like a freshly cut array of fruits in a plastic container.
What time did this girl really wake up to do all this?
“...that’s a lot you prepared.” You crouched beside her, finally noticing the flowery perfume on her shoulder.
“Of course.” She stated. “Can’t win a bet on an empty stomach.”
You finally sat fully. “You do realise that it’s my satisfaction you try to win, right?”
“It’s both, boring boy.” She took a huge bite out of her sandwich. “You falling in love with me will be much easier if you’re not hungry.”
You scoffed as you reached for your own sandwich. “...that doesn't really make sense…like at all”
“Just admit that you’re impressed with my prep, damn it.”
“Its better than any previous date’s prep, which in most cases is…non existent so you cleared this low bar, i guess” You sighed as you finally bit into your own. Toasted bread, egg, tomato, lettuce, cheese…and immediately regretted giving her any kind of validation. “Damn it… this is good.”
“Good?” She glared. “I woke up at five for this and this is all the compliments I get? Jeesus, where is the chivalry these days.”
It has been barely a day, and Seoyeon has officially moved up to be the date with the most complaints ever. But to be frank, it is quite funny, so you just replied with: “Fine. Really good.”
She beamed, leaning back on her hands, the sandwich on her laps. “Heh, you are not so hard to please after all.”
“Shut it.”
Afterwards, the two of you ate in relative silence. It wasn’t awkward, surprisingly enough. Just easy. The kind where the sounds of the sea and the occasional gawking of the seagull filled the space between every bite. At one point, you two chuckled as that said seagull kept on circling on one particular spot.
After finishing her sandwich, Seoyeon turned toward the horizon, eyes squinting slightly as the sun peeked over the waves even more. “You know…” She breathed. “I come here a lot.”
You glanced at her. “Why…?”
She shrugged. “It’s quiet. The sea doesn’t shit talk back. It’s just there.”
“You? Wanting quiet?”
“Hey, your first impression of me might be a loud and eccentric one, but even I can have a break.” She tossed the crumbled plastic wrap at your knee. “Don’t ruin my poetic moment, jackass.”
You took another bite, swallowing a laugh. “I’m just saying, it’s hard to imagine you sitting here alone after you pulled a kidnapping last night.”
“Say what you want.” She chuckled for a moment, before her expression softened slightly. “I like to watch the water when I feel…um, lost, I suppose.”
Her tone made you pause. It wasn’t the playful Seoyeon from the bar that grabbed you from your depressing thought, how her white dress fluttered slightly with the wind, and how her blonde hair looked so ethereal in the sunrise.
And before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “You are…weird, you know that?”
She blinked, then smiled, turning her head toward you. “Take one to know one…boring boyfriend.”
A strange silence followed afterward. Not awkward, actually, just one of those moments where you didn’t want to break and just let it sink in. Her hair swayed with the wind, and that faint smell of her shampoo mingling with the salt in the air. You two caught each other’s gaze once, briefly, then quickly looked away. Not totally awkward at all.
And then, “WOOF WOOF!”
A sharp, sudden bark echoed from behind you two. Seoyeon yelped out loud…and immediately clung to your arm like her life depended on it.
“T-The fuck was that?!” she half-whispered, half-shouted, peeking at the source of the noise from your shoulder. You ignore the heat on your cheeks, unsure if it was from the proximity or the way her perfume clung onto your clothes
Regardless, you look around until you find a cute little chihuahua. “...A dog?”
“Goddamn it.” she said, tugging on your sleeve harder. “Stupid dog. Make it go away already..!”
You couldn’t help but laugh, which earned you a small smack on the back. “You’re fine, Seoyeon. You were brave enough to kidnap a random guy in the city at midnight, but a little doggy made you this scared?”
“I-It’s not funny!” she protested…and still refused to leave your side. “It could bite!”
“...It’s wagging its tail.” You pointed toward the dog who stood passively a good distance away from you two, its tongue lolling out, wagging its tail like you said, and staring up at Seoyeon with pure curiosity.
“Oh.” She muttered. “It’s…kinda cute.”
“No shit Sherlock.” you deadpanned. “Truly terrifying to be afraid of.”
She glared at you for a brief moment (not the angry one, just a really adorable one that you refused to admit). But it didn’t last long. Well, because the dog trotted closer, sniffed the basket, and barked again, making her jolt once more.
“Never mind, not that cute.” She retreated back to you again as if the dog decided to learn how to punch.
You sighed as you gave her a light pat to her thigh. “You know, for someone trying to win a bet about making me fall in love with you, hiding from a puppy is definitely not helping your case.”
Lies. It was definitely making your pulse go wild.
“Shush.” She said, swatting at your arm but with a small grin that betrayed her embarrassment. “You’re supposed to protect your girlfriend, remember?”
Let’s ignore the way your lip twitched upwards at the word ‘your’, shall we?
When the dog finally got bored of scaring Seoyeon and walked away, she released her grip away from you. “Anyways we already finished our food, lets go”
You could only chuckle at the nonchalant recovery as you helped her pack up. “Sure, where to?” You glanced at your phone again. 8:30 am.
She turned to you with that annoying grin, simply just shrugging her shoulders before walking away, leaving you confused.
~~
The next two hours blurred together in that relaxed way mornings sometimes do (a phenomenon you still don’t understand, or maybe it was her magic).
After breakfast, Seoyeon insisted on “walking off the food”, which honestly is just dragging you through half the city. The sun was higher now, definitely warm enough to feel the sweat beads on your back, while she carried the empty picnic basket around (she insisted there was no time, but really, you could tell she wasn’t that bothered). Every so often, she’d glance at you, either to tease or to ask random questions like: “why are buildings called buildings if they have already been built”.
You answered half of them; and the rest she filled in herself.
At some point, you stopped at a convenience store for iced coffee. Just like last night, you two sat on the curb, but this time with the world moving around. Cars hummed by, the smell of food waffling in the air, and Seoyeon sipped on hers. It feels…natural. Like a pair that have been together for far too long.
“You’re quiet.”
You looked at her. “Well yeah, I didn’t get enough sleep.” You muttered.
“Well, first time for waking up early, then.” She grinned. Slurping the last of her coffee, she tossed it to the bin nearby as she glanced at your phone. 10 am. “Let’s go, I know the perfect place for both of us.”
That…apparently is a PC bang tucked between a tailor shop and karaoke bar. From the silence of the sea to the loud, pop music in here, it sure is a bit of a whiplash to your ears. Or to you in general.
“Isnt this place a bit too…um…loud for a normal date?” You ask, loud enough so she can hear you.
“Do I need to explain that this is not a normal date?”
“Okay, touché.”
“Great, let's go in, and just trust me, I know what I am doing” she responds, walking toward the counter. You rolled your eyes, yet you followed her anyway.
Surprisingly, It doesn't take that much long to get 2 neighbouring PCs free for the two of you. You paid your share and found your seat with Seoyeon on the setup to your left. She has already logged in, hair slightly messy from the walk, and her fingers dance across the keyboard as if it’s her second nature.
“You play League, right?” She asks, hands typing her account details.
“Yeah, you too?”
“Only casually, Arena and ARAM,” She shrugs. “Sometimes I feel adventurous and play Normals, do you play ranked?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “Gold 4, jungle.”
You could hear it. A muttered, nearly inaudible "Sweet motherfucking lord” under her breath. You gave her a nonchalant shrug as the client window opened, though the corner of your mouth twitches.
“What's your account name?” she asks again, this time through the discord call. Nothing you really keep your thoughts about, just enough so you write it to invite her to your lobby and start the queue. And with Korea being Korea, you find yourself in champ select in less than a minute.
You glance over at her screen. She’s hovering over Yuumi.
“Oh”
“What?” she asks, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“So you are that kind of casual player?”
This gets you with a small smack on your shoulder.
“I am playing with friends who have main character syndrome, sue me if I want to help them feel happy”
You chuckle at the way she rolls her eyes…and locks in Briar.
“Really?” She scoots her chair a bit further from the table before looking at you. “You pick Briar and I’m the cringe one here?
“You picked Yummi. I rest my case.”
A blink, another one and Seoyeon just sighs, turning herself toward the screen again. Eventually the champion selection is over and the loading screen pops up.
For a couple of minutes there is silence between you two, letting the music surrounding you to flow without interrupting. You take a quick glance at Seoyeon, her eyes glued to the screen. She’s surprisingly focused. Maybe too much for a ‘casual player’.
“So…how is your dating life?” You start, breaking the silence
“Huh? What?” Her eyes darted to you.
“Like, I don't know…this entire day is for you to prove to me that dating is good and love is real, but i haven't heard a word about your own experience in dating” You pressed random keys, totally not being nervous or anything.
And obviously not because you are curious about her answer.
A small chuckle escapes her lips before she answers. “Oh…well, it does exist, I go on dates when I can, this isn't my first date.”
“Wait, this counts as a date?”
She shrugs. “You tell me, Boring boy.”
Meanwhile the game starts, you both choose your augments, buy items and wait for the first round,
“Got ‘Feel the Burn’ by the way,” Seoyeon adds.
“Nice, Mystic Punch” you say, happy for the double high roll returning back to the main topic. “Anyway…do they go well? Do you get to the second date?”
“Oh hell no” She laughs mid-combat, finger flying across the keyboard. “You think you are the only one who has a shit dating life? 3 ghosts during text, 2 ghosts during the actual dates, and 7,”
“Yikes. Seven…?”
“Yep. I repeat: seven!! times where i have been told ‘you seem great, but your personality is a bit…too much’”
The way she mocks their tone, with that fake masculinity. Can’t lie, it does make you laugh a little bit.
“So the pot calls the kettle black, that's interesting” you state, fingers move with dexterity, getting the first blood on the enemy Karma. “So how does it make you any different than me? if anything it seems you should believe in love even less than me.”
She snipes an enemy Ahri and smirks. “Maybe. But I haven’t, have I?”
You were about to respond when she added, her tone turned more sentimental. “I know that one day, I will meet someone that will love me. Not despite how I am, but because of it”.
You glance over. Her tone isn’t joking anymore. She looks at you straight, eyes soft but certain. “Listen…”
“Yeah?”
“...for me, love is about enjoying someone's presence and accepting every part of that person, even those that we connect less with. I don't want to be in a relationship where my partner doesn't fully accept who I am. Even the wild and cheerful side of me, because if we don't fully accept each other, is it really love?”
You don’t say anything. You just…sit there, letting her words hang in the neon glow.
The only thing you manage to say is a simple “Wow”.
“Yeah, that went…a bit too deep right?” She laughs awkwardly, “Oh shit round is starting, get ready” she now goes back to the screen.
“Y-Yeah” you respond, turning back to the screen. You don't know if it's the fact you slept for 3 hours or something else. But you catch yourself saying—
“I mean, if my say counts, I really think you will find someone that will love you. Just the way you are. You’re quite a girl as it is.”
Seoyeon didn’t say anything either. She just lets out a soft breath and smiles (the one that is far too real for how short you two have known each other).
“...well, aren’t you a smooth talker,” she breathed, eyes back on the screen.
You don’t try to play cool. Just smile back, and just fail miserably at focusing on the game.
~~
The rest of the 2 hours go by quickly, nothing too serious, a single win, a lot of losses (that Seoyeon insisted that were your fault) and even more banter between the two of you (“what do you mean you don't buy items?!” Seoyeon rants, and you counter with “Stat anvils are way better on Kaisa”.)
But still, you both still had fun together, enjoying each moment with a side effect of you warming up to your temporary ‘girlfriend’. So when Seoyeon drags you out of the PC bang toward the next destination, you don't question it anymore, instead just following her around.
“That is probably the most normal place you took me to” You say, looking at the sliding glass door of a burger place, one you never heard the name of, but it's quite popular based on the amount of people inside.
“Well I can't be quirky all the time, am I right?” She jokes, you laugh, it's a simple ebb and flow between you two. “You pay by the way, so get your money ready”
“Excuse me?”
“Last night i paid for your drink, and for your X2 buldak, your wallet can start losing some weight”
Ok, she's right, and you don’t exactly want to ruin whatever you two have right now. So instead you just go in, this time taking the lead.
The order is quite simple: two burgers, two boxes of fries and two cans of the same drink (“Do you want a split straw with that?” You were this close to duke the cashier out but it was quite funny). And then you two ended up sitting across from each other by the window.
You wished you had your phone out at that time, because the way she unwraps her burger with both hands was…um…quite adorable. Ok fine, it was very adorable.
The conversation continues from the PC bang. A bit of more arguing about some recent E-sport lives, pet peeves about some celebrities, then worst movies you both have ever seen. It was very natural. Unforced. And warm.
And then the conversation leads to… this.
“So.” She looks at you…well, while gulping down her drink. “”We’re halfway in this bet.”
You inhale like someone startled awake. “Uhuh. And?”
“Well…”
“Well…?”
“...I would appreciate it if you could give your thoughts about today.”
“...What? The date?”
“Uhuh,” Seoyeon nods. “Are you having fun? Am I on the road to winning this bet? Did I change your mind already?” She asks all of this before, very ungracefully, lets out a small burp that gets her giggling, a shy smile plastered on her face that gets you smiling back.
Fuck, maybe you are falling tor her alre- NO! you can't give up that easily, it’s only been one single day. You can’t just fall in love with someone you just met like this!
(Ignore the fact that it is clear that you really enjoy this more than any other bland dates before.)
“I mean, yeah I am having fun with you, but that doesn't mean you will win this bet” you say, eating another fry.
Her eyes narrowed, “How fast would you say ‘I love you’ if it was any other girl planning this type of date with you?”
“Around the time when they showed up with the same cute sundress and the picnic basket- Ow!!” and this response rewards you with a kick to your knee, and not a weak one as you try to hold your groan to not make a scene.
“It's a bit rude of you to mention other girls during our date, Boring Boyfriend.” she states.
“That you started by kidnapping me from the bar, this bet is also a way for me to know if I should call the police on you for kidnapping and depriving me of sleep” you comment back, trying to match her flirt. Keyword, trying.
She gasps overdramatically, “You wouldn't dare.”
“Try me then.”
“Try you? Puh lease, you are too soft.” She fires back.
You were about to counter when the phone buzzed in your pocket. A notification from the dating app. As you open it up you see a message which quickly turns your smile upside down.
‘Hey, we are still meeting today, right?
It's a reminder for tonight’s date. With a girl you matched with last week. This evening. Right now it’s 1:04 PM.
Of course, she notices it immediately. “Oho? What’s that? Why hide your phone huh?”
You tense, didn’t realise how your hand automatically hid your phone away. “Hm? It’s nothing.” Well that was totally normal.
“Liar,” she sings. Her hand shoots out across from the table, palm open. “Let me see, pllleeeeaaasssseeee?”
‘What? No. It’s–”
“Let me see,” She says again, but the joke is gone.
You swallow, hands suddenly cold. And slowly, you unlock your phone and tilt it toward her like a child to their parents.
With one glance, her eyes find the app. Her lips part for a second until, “Oh.” She forces a smile. Tight. Paper-thin.
“She looks…fine,” Her tone is too calm for comfort, as she pushes the phone back to you. “Pretty, too, I should say.”
You blink. “...Are you telling me to leave?”
“Yeah, of course.” She takes a sip from her drink. “It’s fine.” Yeah, it doesn’t sound fine. At all.
And when you think maybe she’s actually upset…
“BUT!” she interrupts, voice suddenly bright again. Maybe too bright. “Let’s hit a photobooth. Before you meet her.”
You blink. “...what?”
“A photobooth,” She repeats, already standing up and dusting off her dress. “You know, those machines where couples or a group of friends snuggle together to pretend to be cute? It’s literally next door.”
“I know what it is, but why?”
She just shrugs, eyes flicking anywhere but to you. “Because I want one,” She swallows, “Of today, I guess. And in case she accidentally finds this physical evidence.”
That stirred something in your chest. But before you could sort it out, she took your hand, and dragged you towards the aforementioned booth next door. Her smile is bright yet paradoxically dim. Even though she is holding your han, it feels too distant.
As the lightbulb above the camera flashes, you and Seoyeon start doing poses toward the camera. You know, the usual — peace signs, finger guns toward each other, one photo has both of you side-hugging with Seoyeon eye smiling.
Although, even with how happy she seems to be in each photo, you can tell something isn't right.
“Gotta say, I do think I look cute, don't I?" She comments, eyeing each photo before looking at you with a warm smile.
“Heh, yeah.” You don’t even try to hide this time.
“Come on, say that I look cute, say it” she nudges you with her elbow. That was more than enough for you to no longer have any boundaries around her.
“Fine, you look cute, there, happy?” you gave in.
She scoffs at you, “Bitch, I always look adorable” she corrects you, turning her innocent smile to a cheeky grin (that doesn’t quite go up all the way), she then takes another look at the photos before she hands them to you. “Here, you can have it. I will keep the other one.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“Don’t think too much, Boring Boy. Just…something to remember me by.” she says while slowly walking away from you.
“Ya, Yoon Seo–”
She looked back at you, adorning her smile, “Think of it as…your prize for winning the bet”.
“Seo–”
You want to walk behind her, to say something, anything. But, like a pre-planned scene in a script, she starts running away. It might be from the unexpected bonding, but you can see a few droplets of tears falling from her face toward the ground despite being far away.
And eventually, you are left alone in front of the photobooth.
As you take a look at the photos in your hand, seeing each image one by one — you two pinching each other’s cheeks, making goofy faces, Seoyeon resting her chin on top of your crown — only one thought comes out.
“Did I…win this bet?”
For the first time since last night, the walk home is uneventful. Bland, even. No talking, no laughter, just the weirdly suspicious silence of the afternoon. All of the warm colours that surrounded the city earlier have been replaced by more monotone, grey-ish colours, it only needs to start raining before you would officially say it's a K-drama.
You can't tell how long the walk took to get you now standing in front of your door but regardless, you open it, revealing your familiar living room. Take a sigh that you can't tell if it's from relief or disappointment and slowly start walking inside.
As you get in front of your bed, tiredness enveloped you, and every part of your body is telling you to sleep. You quickly oblige to its will, slowly falling toward the mattress and immediately close your eyes, letting the fatigue of this entire day finally take its effect.
~~
You know, it's safe to say that outside of your dating life, everything else about you is quite lucky. Because even while being awake for 10 hours with only 3 hours of sleep prior, your body manages to wake you up at 7:03 PM, one and a half hours before your date.
Your alarm didn't even ring. Instead, your brain decides it is perfect for you to get up once more.
You sit up, rubbing your face, and all you see is the memory of Seoyeon's stupid, smug smile. Still lingering in your head like she's physically sitting there. And then also her back and the hidden droplets as she runs away from you. You swing your legs off the bed, glance at your wardrobe, and immediately feel guilty already.
So you just pick your second best outfit.
Not the best one, the one that your love lives in is perfectly fine and you're a fine specimen. No. Because if you accidentally run into Seoyeon wearing that, you can hear her bratty and adorable voice pouting how "you didn’t dress that nicely for me?"
And it is far too late for you to be emotionally equipped for that.
You check yourself in the mirror. Yep, somehow you still look tired. Probably because you are in quite a turmoil.
Oh right, what was the date's name again? You scrambled for your phone to check the profile again. Ah. Yooyeon. Kim Yooyeon.
It's a nice name, you thought, as you leave the place once more to the agreed location. 50% trying to stay not tired, and 50% wondering what Seoyeon is doing now.
Wait, no, that's rude. Don't think about Seoyeon right now. Yooyeon should be on your mind. Not Seoyeon. She seems like a nice girl. Smart to boot, too. She did say she's studying Science in her bio.
And her profile photo is definitely bad at capturing her beauty as a whole.
It was quite a cakewalk to spot Yooyeon outside the station, waiting under a streetlamp. Pastel sweater, neatly tied hair, a warm smile. The kind of first impression that normally would make you, and any other guys, stumble over your words and your feet.
You greet her, exchange a few polite lines, and start walking together. It's normal. Comfortable. She laughs at your joke about being half-awake after hibernating (it is half a lie), you laugh when she keeps messing up the directions.
It should feel good. It should be. It's no longer bland as before. It feels like a good start. Instead, you keep thinking how Seoyeon would've roasted you for still being sleepy. How she might be late, makes up some lame excuse, and then throws all the rants at you for being "too early".
You push those thoughts away as you reach the arcade.
Inside, it's loud and bright, with flashing lights, metal floors, and the constant ring of machines. Yooyeon paid for the token card and gives you a challenging smirk. 'Let's see if you're any good, mister."
You subconsciously gave her a half-hearted laugh. "Bring it on, miss Kim."
She pulls you to a racing game, and you try, you really try, to focus on the screen, to focus on the moment. But the moment the countdown starts, all you think about is how Seoyeon would bitching about how low the chair is. Then she would ask you to fix it, then proceed to lose and blame you anyway.
Instead, you lose by a mile. Yooyeon laughs and nudges you. "Pff, you're quite terrible."
"So mean." You force a laugh back, and she pulls you to a rhythm game next. Of course, she is shockingly good. She hits every beat, her hands moving like she has trained for her entire life.
You clap. You smile. You tell her how amazing she is. How flawless this perfect girl is. But it is genuinely impossible not to imagine the exact opposite scene, with Seoyeon missing every beat with pride, then complaining the machine is lagging even though it shouldn't, and then laughing because she knows you know she's lying, and then-
"That's a cute smile. Do I look cool with these games?"
Her voice got you snap back to reality, your mouth quickly suppressed the smile on your lips.
"Of course, of course."
One lie.
~~
Dinner comes, and of course, as if the sky plays a big joke on you, she picks the same burger place you and Seoyeon ate at just a few hours ago. Same chairs. Same smell of fries. Same buzz of the overhead lights. And the same clock that reminds you that it’s 9pm.
Yooyeon takes her seat across from you, chatting about her university classes, her friends, some drama with her coworker at her part-time job, and something about a stingy professor. She has such a nice voice. She talks well. She's charming. She's exactly your type and exactly someone you should realistically be paying attention to.
But your brain refuses to cooperate.
Everything she says reminds you what Seoyeon would've said instead. Every bite of food feels like something that should've been shared with someone else. You pick yours up as Yooyeon picks hers. Before you can really take a bite, you can hear the bickerings with Seoyeon you just had.
And you almost choke.
Yooyeon pauses, blinking. "Are you okay?"
You clear your throat. "Sorry, I'm okay. Just the spice."
No spice in sight. Another lie.
She laughs softly and takes a bite. And you? You basically force yourself to chew the memories instead of fries.
As she talks about her favourite books, you catch yourself zoning out — wondering if Seoyeon is chilling at home, if she has fallen asleep immediately, if she’s still thinking about your conversation in the PC bang, if she’s still annoyed you almost didn’t show her your phone. You take another sip of soda, and it tastes wrong. So wrong. Because she’s not here complaining it's too flat. It’s just Yooyeon that is still talking, and you smile because she deserves it. She’s kind. She’s giving you genuine interest. She’s trying. She’s deadass gorgeous.
You should be falling for the girl in front of you. She’s literally your type. But instead, your heart keeps reaching for the one who already left.
The worst part of you is that…you just want to finish this date to see her again.
-
By the time you walk Yooyeon back to the station and wave goodbye, your leg immediately runs. You don’t even pretend to scroll or check your phone as usual. Your muscle tense, and your chest tight with something that feels far too close to panic. The city lights are warm and blurry around the edges, the noise of traffic melting into white noise. Every step feels like you’re chasing a shadow.
But you are too busy beating yourself up. You don’t know her number. Nor her address. Nor her favourite food as peace offering.
Yet you know exactly, exactly, what her brazen laughter sounds like when she’s trying not to show she’s flustered. You know the way her smug smile makes her cheeks even more adorable. And you know how you really, really like her tone when she calls you “Boring Boy”.
And that is more than enough for you to sprint across three districts like a man possessed. You check every place, retracing every step you took with her that feels like years being together.
First, the convenience store where she bought you x2 Buldak last night. Just empty aisles. LED lights buzzing overhead. A cashier who looks at you weirdly when you double check the ramen aisle. Next, the restaurant you literally just went to with Yooyeon. Beginning to clear out. A family or two comes out. A group of girls. A couple. But no Seoyeon. Then the PC bangs. Just a row of middle schoolers yelling, someone blasting an OST, and zero sundresses in sight.
Your heartbeat keeps climbing. Every stop tightens your chest. And every failed discovery feels like a punch to your gut. This is so ridiculous. Pathetic. Desperate. But you don’t want to stop. You can’t. Until you know she’s okay.
And then a crucial memory slams into you so clear that you brake yourself:
“It’s quiet. The sea doesn’t shit talk back. It’s just there,” and then another one, “I like to watch the water when I feel…um, lost, I suppose.”
You finally allow yourself to breathe. Of course. Of course she’d go there, far out. Of course the sea is where she will be.
Checking your phone for direction, the clock shows 11:30pm.
You take off running again.
~~
The city slowly thins out the closer you get to the shore. Restaurants replaced by empty storefronts, neon replaced by dim streetlamps humming softly in the wind.
Your breath grows ragged. Your legs burn like hell. Your lungs ache. But the second you hear the faint crash of waves in the distance, adrenaline hits you all over again. The sand greets you cold and damp beneath your shoes as you arrive. Wind cuts cross your skin as you push forward, scanning the shoreline.
At first, it looks empty. Just a dark stretch of sand. An ocean covered by a veil of night sky. Your small hope begins to flicker out.
And then, far ahead, near the curve of the beach, you see a small shape. Someone sitting alone, knees tucked to her chest, and her head bowed slightly.
You recognise the white sundress that glows faintly under the moonlight, fluttering around her legs. Her blonde hair spills over her shoulders, moving with the wind.
As you approach closer, with each step sinking into the sand, you notice the plastic convenience-store bag filled with cheap soju bottles and two cans of beer.
She is far smaller than before. So quiet now. So…uncharacteristic of the girl who dragged you out of your bland life. And It's only at 11:53 PM when your body suddenly realises that…the date, the bet, the rules aren’t relevant anymore.
All you care about is her.
“Yoon Seoyeon!” you reach out, walking closer but not too much. She doesn't turn to face you, just taking a deep sigh that is so unlike her.
“Wow, you knew where to find me…” she says, her voice barely audible with waves softly reaching to the sand, the cold water touching Seoyeon’s feet. “What are you doing here?”
“Finding you —fuck, I’m tired— of course.” You pant, crutching yourself to catch some air.
She doesn’t look at you at first, still looking to the abyss where the sea eats the sky. And then you see it, how she slightly peeks at you, slightly amused. “Did you run?”
“Y-yeah, after the date.”
“So?” She nudges a rock with her toe, her head still tilting down, “I assume you came here to tell me about the date? I hope you had fun”
“Honestly?” you admit, scratching the back of your head. “...don’t remember.”
That gets a small laugh out of her.
“So you broke her heart as well?” She snorts. “Didn't expect it from someone who is looking for a relationship, especially not doing it twice”.
“Yeah…I just” You stutter. “I just…couldn't stop thinking about you. I guess.”
And that makes her go still.
Even from behind, you can see the tension in her spine. How she almost, almost, turns toward you before forcing her gaze back to the horizon. Her fingers dig slightly into the sand by her side.
11:55 PM.
You still have time.
You inhale slowly, lungs tight, heart hammering, and you start rambling. No plan, no filter. Just from the bottom of your heart.
“Before I met you last night, I thought that love was dead, that it was impossible to fall in love with someone, that dates were supposed to be the fancy dinner in candlelights cliche and well…” you let out a small chuckle, flashbacks of the places you shared with her today run in your mind, as you continue.
“Then I met you and you proved all of them wrong,” that got Seoyeon to turn her head to face you, her expression confused. Yes, but at the same time her eyes tell signs of hope. That you would say what she thinks you will say.
11:56 PM.
Your pulse kicks harder.
“I mean, no one would be able to just come, insult my love life and still try to prove to me that love exists. No other girl would even consider to start a date in a fucking 24 hour convince store, no one besides…you. ” A small tear shedding from her visible eye as you ramble. And it was the cue for her to rise from her spot, and stand up to look at you.
That gives you enough courage to get closer.
11:57 PM.
“You showed me how love really is. It's more than just the candlelights and the fancy dinner, it's actually… um…laughing at the silly plays you make during a League game together, it's the damn spicy buldak of 2AM last night, it's the way you ask so many dumb questions that got me grinning.”
You don’t realise how your hand has landed on her shoulder until she notices it. But she doesn’t pull away.
11:58 PM.
“As much as I hate to believe it, you were right” Your voice softens. “Love is real, and it's about finding the right person to love and well…for me, the right person is you.” You let out a breath you’ve been holding for the whole day before finally say it:
“I love you Yoon Seoyeon”
11:59 PM.
Just on time. Phew.
For a moment, both you just stare at each other, smiling like idiots, her hands finding their way on your waist, fingers curling into your shirt.
“You won the bet.” you admit. but that's when Seoyeon starts to giggle.
“Not yet, boring boy.”
Suddenly you can hear your clock. 12:00 AM.
And just as fast as time passes, she grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling your face closer while leaning in to let her lips find their place on yours
The first contact is like fireworks are set in your stomach, eyes wide open to how close Seoyeon is to you but eventually you ease into the kiss, closing your eyes while your hands find their place on her cheeks, feeling the texture of her skin in your palm, softly kneading it.
Her lips are warm despite the cold sea breeze, soft but insistent, still the lingering taste of soju she just had and the salt of the ocean air. Her fingers clutch the collar of your shirt so damn tight that the fabric wrinkles against your throat.
You swear the whole world, the whole time, hell, the whole challenge, narrows down to just this — her mouth against yours, the heat curling in your chest, and the electricity that shoots down your spine. The waves still crash behind you, yes, but they’re muted to your ears.
Seoyeon is all you can really focus on.
Eventually she pulls away, your eyes open to see the red on her face as she looks at you with stars in her eyes and you can't lie that those stars may have snuck into your eyes as well, she then lets a cheeky grin that makes her the girl that she is.
The girl that you love. And also taught you how to love.
“You are…so annoying.” she whispers. “You made an adorable girl cry, you know.”
That got a chuckle out of you, as you brush your thumb gently along the edge of her jaw. “You made me run two districts. I’m sure we’re even.”
She huffs a tiny laugh and leans in again, pressing a second kiss to the corner of your mouth. This one is far softer, slower, as if she’s memorising the shape of you.
The third kiss on your lower lip.
And the fourth? She’s smiling at you.
“Now I won the bet” she lets out a cute giggle and for the first time, you beam widely when Seoyeon calls you by her favourite nickname.
“Boring boyfriend.
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Written from 21/10/25 - 15/12/25
thank you all so much for reading it, and we hope you have a good day
