I actually did not have any intention of continuing Gym Freak, it was supposed to be just a oneshot story, but here we are..
This one is my lengthiest one yet..
"Mark? Where are you.. it's been 1 hour, Sana's impatient.."
The message illuminated Mark's phone screen as he stepped out of the taxi, his pulse already thrumming with anticipation beneath his skin. The gym encounter with Jihyo had been unexpected, electric, a collision of sweat and desire that had left her pressing her number into his palm with the promise that fortune might favor him with more than just her company. She had whispered about Sana then, a teasing hint of possibilities that had haunted his thoughts for days.
His phone had buzzed earlier that evening with Jihyo's voice, honeyed and commanding, directing him to this luxury hotel downtown. She had mentioned Sana would be there, yes, but her tone carried additional secrets, promises unspoken that quickened his step as he crossed the polished marble lobby.
Mark's fingers moved across his phone screen as he entered the elevator, the mirrored walls reflecting his eager expression back at him. "I'm almost there, just 2 minutes.."
The elevator ascended in silence, each floor marking a progression toward something he could feel in his gut, heavy and hot. When the doors slid open on the eighth floor, he moved with purpose down the carpeted corridor, his shoes making no sound against the plush flooring. Room 895 waited at the end of the hallway like a portal to another world.
He knocked, three sharp raps against the wood, and prepared himself for Jihyo's smile or Sana's rumored beauty. The door swung open, and the breath caught in his throat.
Somi stood before him, all long limbs and golden skin, wearing nothing but a bikini top that strained against the swell of her breasts and matching panties that sat low on her hips. The fabric was a vibrant turquoise that made her sun-kissed complexion glow, but it was the minimal coverage that arrested his attention, the way the material barely contained her curves, the visible outline of her mound beneath the thin bikini bottom. She was barefoot, her toenails painted a matching shade, and her blonde hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders.
Mark bowed instinctively, his eyes dropping to the floor, his mind scrambling to reconcile this unexpected vision. "I.. I'm Mark," he stammered, his voice coming out rough. "Jihyo invited.."
"So you're the gym guy," Somi said, her voice carrying a melodic lilt, her head tilting as she assessed him with eyes that seemed to strip away his clothing already. "Jihyo didn't mention you'd look so.. overwhelmed."
"I wasn't expecting.. I mean, she said Sana would be here, but she didn't mention.."
"That there'd be three of us?" Somi laughed, the sound bright and mischievous. She leaned against the doorframe, her posture relaxed, completely unbothered by her near-nudity. "Jihyo likes her surprises. She said you were good with your hands."
Before Mark could formulate a response, Jihyo appeared from behind the door, her presence commanding immediate attention. She wore a blue swimsuit, one-piece but cut scandalously high on her hips, the fabric a deep navy that contrasted beautifully with her warm skin. The neckline plunged between her breasts, showing ample cleavage, and the back was open, revealing the smooth expanse of her spine. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and her eyes sparkled with knowing amusement.
"Mark," she breathed, pushing past Somi to embrace him. Her body pressed against his, soft and firm in equal measure, the scent of vanilla and something more primal enveloping him. "You came. I wasn't sure you'd have the courage."
She pulled back but kept her hand on his arm, guiding him into the suite. The living room was spacious, modern furniture arranged around a glass coffee table, floor-to-ceiling windows showing the city lights beyond. Mark stood in the center of the room, suddenly aware of his casual attire, his jeans and t-shirt feeling inadequate against the swimwear-clad women.
"Somi, this is Mark," Jihyo said, her hand sliding down to interlace with his fingers. "The one I told you about. The one who fucked me so thoroughly in the gym locker room that I couldn't walk straight for hours."
Somi's eyes widened, her lips parting in an expression of delighted shock. She stepped closer, her gaze roaming over Mark's body with frank appraisal. "In the locker room? Jihyo, you dirty girl. Was it against the lockers?"
"Against the wall," Jihyo confirmed, her thumb stroking Mark's palm. "He had me pinned there, my legs wrapped around his waist, his cock so deep I could feel him in my throat."
"And he made you scream?" Somi asked, her voice dropping to a lower register, huskier.
"Like a banshee," Jihyo laughed. "The entire gym probably heard. I didn't care. I couldn't care, not with him pounding into me like that."
Mark felt his face flush, the memory flooding back, the heat and urgency of that encounter, Jihyo's nails digging into his shoulders, her wetness coating his shaft as he drove into her again and again.
"Well," Somi said, stepping even closer, her breasts nearly brushing against his arm. "I hope he's got stamina for three. I don't like being disappointed."
From the bedroom doorway, a voice called out, melodic and sweet, carrying a hint of impatience. "Jihyo yaa, I'm ready, where's your-"
Sana emerged into the living room, her presence like stepping into sunlight. She wore a white bikini, pure and virginal in color but sinful in cut, the triangles of the top barely containing her generous breasts, strings tied behind her neck and back. The bottom was a thong style, the thin strip of fabric disappearing between her rounded buttocks. Her hair was down, dark and glossy, falling past her shoulders in waves that caught the light. Her face was bare of makeup, natural and stunning, her eyes large and expressive.
She stopped mid-sentence, her mouth forming a perfect 'o' as she took in the scene before her. Mark watched her gaze travel from Jihyo to Somi to him, confusion giving way to realization, then to something hotter, darker.
"Oh," Sana said, her voice soft. "Oh my."
"Sana," Jihyo said, her tone warm and inviting. "This is Mark. Remember I told you I met someone special at the gym? This is him."
Sana's eyes met Mark's, and he felt the impact like a physical blow, her gaze intense and assessing, roaming over his face, his shoulders, down his chest. She took a step forward, then another, her hips swaying with unconscious grace.
"The gym guy," she repeated, her lips curving into a smile that was part shy, part predatory. "Jihyo hasn't stopped talking about you. She said you were.. talented."
"She's exaggerating," Mark managed, though his voice was rough.
"She doesn't exaggerate about sex," Sana said, now standing directly in front of him. She was shorter than the other two, more petite, but her presence filled his vision. "When Jihyo says someone is good, they're exceptional. She has very high standards."
"Very high," Somi agreed from his side.
"And you came," Sana continued, her hand rising to touch his chest, her fingers light through his t-shirt. "You came when she called, knowing she might have surprises for you."
"I hoped," Mark admitted, looking down at her beautiful face. "I hoped there might be more than just talking."
Sana laughed, the sound like bells. "Talking? Oh, sweetie, we're not here for talking." She looked over at Jihyo. "He's cute. I like his eyes."
"He has very nice eyes," Jihyo agreed. "And very nice hands. And a very nice.. everything else."
"Can I touch him?" Sana asked, her gaze never leaving Mark's face.
"He's not a museum piece," Somi snorted. "Though he should be, with that jawline."
"I want to make sure he's real," Sana said, her hand sliding down to his stomach, then lower, her palm pressing against the growing hardness in his jeans. "Oh. Very real."
Mark groaned, his hips bucking slightly into her touch. Sana's eyes darkened, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
"He's responsive," she observed. "I like that."
"We all do," Jihyo said, moving to stand behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders. "Sana, Somi, should we show him what we have planned?"
"Show me," Mark said, his voice gravelly. "Show me everything."
Sana's smile turned wicked, her hand still pressed against his erection. "Oh, we're going to show you more than everything. We're going to ruin you for other women."
"Promise?" Mark asked.
"Guarantee," Sana whispered, and then she was rising on her toes, her arms wrapping around his neck, her body pressing fully against him. She hugged him tight, her breasts squashed against his chest, her cheek against his, and he could feel her heart beating fast, matching his own rhythm. "Welcome to paradise, Mark. You're going to get so lucky today."
Jihyo disappeared into the bedroom, her footsteps light against the carpet. Mark stood between Somi and Sana, the two women flanking him like guardians of some erotic temple, their bodies radiating heat and promise. Somi's hand found his, her fingers interlacing with his, while Sana remained pressed against his front, her head resting on his shoulder.
"Jihyo says you're strong," Somi murmured, her thumb tracing circles on his palm. "She says you can lift her easily."
"I work out," Mark said, his free hand coming to rest on Sana's lower back, his fingers dipping beneath the string of her bikini bottom.
"Good," Somi purred. "Because we're going to test your strength. All three of us."
Sana nipped at his neck, her teeth grazing his skin. "We're going to wear you out, Mark. We're going to use you until you can't move."
"Challenge accepted," he breathed.
Jihyo returned from the bedroom, her arms laden with three large white towels, plush and hotel-fresh. She dropped them onto the coffee table with a soft thud, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Without any further delay," she announced, her voice commanding and sure, "let's fucking go to the pool."
The three women moved as one, untangling from Mark and heading toward the door. Jihyo paused, looking back at him, her gaze dropping to his still-clothed body.
"Strip," she ordered, her tone brooking no argument. "Strip to just your shorts. Nothing else."
Mark obeyed, his fingers finding the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head. The air was cool against his heated skin, his muscles defined from years of training. He kicked off his shoes, then unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down his legs until he stood in only his boxer briefs, the dark fabric tented with his arousal.
"Those too," Somi said, her eyes hungry. "Jihyo said shorts. Tight shorts. Show us what you're working with."
Mark hooked his thumbs in the waistband and pushed them down, his cock springing free, heavy and thick, before he quickly pulled on the swim trunks he'd brought in his bag. They were black and tight, leaving little to the imagination, the outline of his erection clearly visible against the fabric.
The three women watched him with predatory focus, their gazes fixed on the bulge between his legs. Somi and Sana moved to either side of him, their hands finding his buttocks, squeezing the firm muscle through the thin material.
"Firm," Somi commented, giving him another squeeze.
"Very nice," Sana agreed, her hand sliding to cup his cheek.
They chuckled, the sound low and conspiratorial, and each took one of his hands, guiding him forward like royalty escorted by his concubines. Jihyo led the way, her hips swaying in that devastating swimsuit, and they moved through the hotel corridor as a group, four bodies united in purpose.
The private pool area was on the rooftop, accessed by a key card that Jihyo produced from somewhere in her swimsuit. The space was enclosed by high walls, lush greenery providing privacy, the pool itself glowing with underwater lights that turned the water into liquid turquoise. Steam rose gently from the heated surface, and the city skyline provided a stunning backdrop.
Jihyo checked the perimeter, ensuring they were truly alone, before nodding to the others. "We're clear. Just us."
Somi and Sana released his hands, their movements synchronized as they moved toward the pool's edge. They didn't dive in immediately. Instead, they turned to face him, three beautiful women in minimal swimwear, their bodies illuminated by the soft glow of the pool lights.
"Last one in has to eat the others out first," Somi challenged, her eyes sparkling.
"You're on," Sana laughed.
But Mark didn't move to race them. He stood his ground, watching as they slowly, deliberately, removed what little they wore. Somi reached behind her back, untying her bikini top and letting it fall, her breasts bouncing free, full and perfect with pink nipples already hard in the cool night air. She pushed her panties down, stepping out of them, and stood completely naked, her shaved pussy glistening with anticipation.
Sana followed, her white bikini top coming undone with a tug of the string, her breasts larger than Somi's, heavy and ripe, dark nipples puckered. She turned as she removed her bottom, giving Mark a view of her perfect ass, round and firm, before facing him again, her mound bare and wet.
Jihyo was last, her one-piece requiring more effort, peeling the wet fabric from her skin, revealing her body inch by inch. Her breasts were high and firm, her waist narrow, her hips flaring into powerful thighs. Between her legs, a neat strip of dark hair pointed to her slit, already swollen and slick.
Three naked women. Three idols. Three goddesses standing before him, offering themselves without reservation.
"Your turn," Jihyo said, her voice husky. "Show us, Mark. Show us everything."
Mark hooked his thumbs in his waistband and pushed the shorts down, his cock springing free, thick and veined, the head dark and swollen. It bobbed heavily against his stomach as he stepped out of the fabric, standing as naked as they were, his arousal evident, undeniable.
Sana made a small sound, almost a whimper, her hand moving to her own breast, pinching her nipple. "Oh god," she breathed. "Jihyo, you didn't tell us he was that big."
"I told you he was perfect," Jihyo said, her own hand sliding between her legs.
"Perfect," Somi echoed, her gaze fixed on his shaft. "Absolutely perfect."
They moved toward him, closing the distance, and then they were touching him, their hands roaming over his chest, his arms, his back, lower to grip his ass, his thighs, and finally, finally, to wrap around his cock. Three sets of hands, soft and warm, stroking him, exploring him, claiming him.
"The pool," Jihyo gasped, though she didn't stop touching him. "We should.. the pool.."
"Yes," Sana agreed, but she was kissing his shoulder, her tongue hot against his skin.
"Now," Somi commanded, and she was the one to lead him, her hand firm around his wrist, pulling him toward the water.
They entered the pool together, the warm water enveloping Mark's heated skin like a caress. The three women surrounded him, their bodies slick and wet, hair beginning to darken as the water claimed it. Sana was the most forward, her hands immediately finding his erection beneath the surface, her fingers wrapping around his girth and stroking slowly.
"So hard," she murmured, her lips against his ear. "So hot."
Somi pressed against his back, her breasts squashing against his shoulder blades, her nipples hard points digging into his skin. Her hands came around to grip his ass, kneading the muscle, her pelvis grinding against him from behind.
"You're ours tonight," she whispered, her breath hot. "Every inch of you."
Jihyo faced him, floating close, her legs wrapping around his waist, her pussy grinding against his lower stomach. She kissed him, deep and filthy, her tongue invading his mouth, tasting him, claiming him. Her breasts bobbed in the water, nipples grazing his chest, and he could feel the heat of her cunt even through the warm water.
They moved him toward the shallower end, where built-in seats lined the pool wall. Sana guided him to sit, the water lapping at his chest, and then she was between his legs, her face level with his cock which broke the surface, standing proud and desperate.
"Mine first," she declared, and before he could respond, she had lowered her mouth onto him, her lips stretching around his thickness, her tongue swirling around the head.
Mark groaned, his head falling back, his hands gripping the pool edge. Somi was immediately behind him, her hands on his shoulders, her mouth on his neck, sucking marks into his skin. Jihyo positioned herself beside him, her hand joining Sana's on his shaft, stroking what the other woman couldn't take.
"Look at her," Jihyo commanded. "Watch Sana suck your cock. Watch how much she wants it."
Mark lifted his head, his gaze finding Sana's eyes looking up at him, her mouth full of him, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked. She was beautiful like this, debased and worshipful, her wet hair clinging to her face and shoulders, water droplets running down her breasts.
Sana pulled back with a pop, her hand replacing her mouth, stroking him firmly. "Delicious," she purred. "I want more."
"Then take more," Mark growled, his hand finding the back of her head, guiding her back down.
She took him deeper this time, the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat, her gag reflex making her eyes water. But she didn't pull back. She relaxed, swallowing around him, taking him further, her nose pressing against his stomach.
"Fuck," Mark gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily. "Fuck, Sana.."
Somi's hands slid down his chest, her fingers finding his nipples, pinching and twisting. "She's good, isn't she? Wait until you feel all of us. Wait until we're taking turns riding this big cock."
Jihyo moved to straddle his thigh, her pussy hot and slick against his skin. She ground herself against him, her clit dragging against his muscle, her moans mixing with the wet sounds of Sana's mouth on his cock.
"Let's move this to the side," Somi suggested, her voice rough with desire. "I want to feel him inside me. I want to feel that stretch."
They helped him from the pool, his body glistening with water, his cock standing straight out, hard and throbbing. The night air was cool against his wet skin, but he didn't feel cold. He felt electric, alive, every nerve ending screaming for more touch, more sensation.
Somi was the first to push him down onto one of the lounge chairs, the cushioned surface soft against his back. She climbed over him, her knees on either side of his hips, her pussy hovering above his cock. She reached down, gripping him, positioning him at her entrance.
"Watch," she commanded, her eyes locked on his. "Watch me take you."
She lowered herself slowly, inch by inch, her tightness gripping him, sucking him in. She was wet, so wet, but still tight, her muscles fluttering around his intrusion. Her breasts hung above him, swaying slightly with her movements, water still dripping from her hair onto his chest.
"Oh god," she moaned, her head falling back as she seated herself fully, her ass resting against his thighs, his entire length buried inside her. "Oh fuck, you're so deep. I can feel you everywhere."
Mark's hands found her hips, gripping hard, his fingers digging into her flesh. He thrust up, making her cry out, her breasts bouncing with the movement.
"Yes," she gasped. "Yes, fuck me. Use me."
He began to move, lifting his hips to meet her downward strokes, establishing a rhythm that was hard and fast, the chair creaking beneath them. Somi's hands came to her own breasts, squeezing them, pinching her nipples, her face a mask of ecstasy.
From the sides, Jihyo and Sana watched, their hands between their own legs, fingers working their clits as they observed the fucking. Then they moved closer, kneeling on either side of the chair, their bodies presenting themselves to him.
"Touch us," Jihyo begged, her voice high and needy. "Please, Mark, touch us while you fuck her."
He reached out, his right hand finding Jihyo's pussy, his fingers sliding through her wetness, finding her entrance and pushing inside. His left hand mirrored the action with Sana, both women moaning as he fingered them, his digits curling to find their g-spots while his cock continued to pound into Somi.
"Kiss me," Somi demanded, leaning down, her breasts pressing against his chest, her nipples dragging against his skin.
He captured her mouth, his tongue invading, tasting chlorine and desire. Their teeth clashed, their breath mingling, and he could feel her tightening around him, her orgasm building.
"Come for me," he growled against her lips. "Come on my cock, Somi. Show them how good it feels."
She shattered, her cry breaking their kiss, her body convulsing, her pussy clamping down on him in rhythmic spasms that threatened to milk his own release. But he held back, gritting his teeth, his fingers still working Jihyo and Sana who were both close, their hips bucking against his hands.
When Somi collapsed against him, spent and trembling, he gently lifted her off, his cock sliding free, glistening with her arousal. He laid her on the chair beside him, her chest heaving, her eyes glazed.
"My turn," Sana said immediately, pushing Jihyo aside playfully. "I need him inside me."
Mark stood, his cock bobbing heavy and wet, and pulled Sana to the edge of the chair. He pushed her back, her legs spreading automatically, her pussy on full display, pink and swollen and dripping. He positioned himself at her entrance, dragging his head through her folds, coating himself in her wetness.
"Please," Sana whimpered, her hands reaching for her own breasts, pulling at her nipples. "Please, Mark, I need it. I've been thinking about this since Jihyo told us about you. I've been touching myself, imagining this moment."
He thrust into her in one hard stroke, filling her completely, bottoming out with a force that made her scream. Her back arched off the chair, her breasts thrusting upward, and he immediately fell upon them, his mouth finding one nipple, sucking hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.
"Yes," she chanted, her hands in his hair, holding him to her chest. "Yes, yes, fuck me, use my tits, use my pussy, use all of me."
He established a brutal pace, his hips snapping against hers, the sound of flesh meeting flesh loud in the night air. Sana's breasts bounced with each thrust, and he moved between them, licking and sucking and biting, marking her skin.
Jihyo and Somi recovered enough to join them, kneeling on either side of Sana's head. They presented their pussies to her face, and Sana, ever the pleaser, turned her head to lick at Jihyo, her tongue darting out to taste her friend's arousal, then turning to do the same to Somi.
Mark watched this, his arousal spiking at the sight of Sana eating out his other lovers while he fucked her. He reached out with both hands, finding Jihyo and Somi's breasts, kneading them, pinching their nipples, his fingers slick with their wetness.
"So good," he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. "So fucking good. You all feel incredible."
"Come for us," Jihyo begged, her hips rocking against Sana's mouth. "Come inside her, Mark. Fill her up."
"Not yet," he gritted out, pulling out of Sana with a wet sound, leaving her whimpering and empty. "Jihyo. Turn around."
Jihyo understood immediately, moving to the chair and bending over it, her ass presented to him like a gift. She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes dark with desire, her hair falling in her face.
"Take me," she said, her voice steady despite her trembling body. "Fuck me like you did at the gym. Hard and fast and dirty."
He positioned himself behind her, gripping her hips, and slammed into her without warning, making her cry out. She was tighter from this angle, her walls gripping him like a vice, and he could feel her cervix kissing the head of his cock with each deep thrust.
"Yes," she screamed, her knuckles white where she gripped the chair. "Yes, just like that. Punish me. I've been teasing you all night. Punish my pussy."
He did, his hips becoming a blur, his balls slapping against her clit with each stroke. He reached around her, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he pounded into her, his other hand gripping her hair, pulling her head back.
Somi and Sana watched, their hands between their legs, their eyes glazed with lust. They moved closer, their free hands roaming over Mark's back, his ass, his thighs, their touch adding layers to his pleasure.
"You're going to make me come," Jihyo warned, her voice breaking. "I'm going to come so hard on your cock."
"Do it," Mark commanded. "Come for me, Jihyo. Milk my cock."
She exploded, her scream echoing off the rooftop walls, her body convulsing, her pussy gripping him in rhythmic pulses that finally broke his control. He thrust deep, holding himself buried to the hilt, and felt his release rush through him, hot and powerful, spilling into her in thick ropes.
"Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. "Fuck, yes."
When he finally pulled out, his cum dripped from Jihyo's swollen pussy, running down her thighs. She collapsed onto the chair, her body limp and satisfied.
But the night was far from over. Somi and Sana descended upon him, their mouths finding his cock, licking him clean, their tongues meeting around his shaft, sharing his taste mixed with Jihyo's arousal. They were insatiable, these three, their hunger for him evident in every touch, every lick, every whispered promise of more to come.
They moved to the poolside, Sana climbing onto Mark's lap as he sat on the edge, her legs wrapping around his waist. She was still hungry, her pussy sliding against his spent cock, trying to coax it back to life.
"Again," she whispered, her lips against his ear. "I need you again. I need to feel you come inside me."
Mark felt his cock twitch, responding to her heat, her wetness. He was far from done with these three women. The night had only just begun, and there were hours of pleasure ahead, countless positions to explore, endless ways to make them scream his name.
Jihyo and Somi dove into the pool, their naked bodies cutting through the water with grace, while Sana remained on top of Mark, kissing him deeply, her tongue exploring his mouth with desperate hunger. They were beautiful like this, the city lights behind them, the water reflecting their movements, the night air carrying their moans.
When Jihyo and Somi returned to the poolside, their skin glistening with water, their hair slicked back, they found Sana and Mark still entwined, his cock hard again, pressing against her entrance.
"Look at him," Somi said, her voice admiring. "Ready for more. Jihyo, I think we found the perfect man."
"The perfect man," Jihyo agreed, moving to kneel beside them. "And he's all ours tonight."
She reached out, her hand wrapping around Mark's shaft, guiding him to Sana's waiting entrance. Sana sank down onto him with a sigh of pure satisfaction, her breasts pressing against his chest, her nipples hard points against his skin.
"Ride him," Jihyo commanded. "Show us how you like it, Sana."
Sana began to move, her hips rolling in a sinuous rhythm, her pussy gripping Mark's cock with each upward stroke. She was tight, so tight, and wet, her arousal coating him, making him slick and sensitive.
Mark reached up, his hands finding her breasts, kneading them, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. She moaned, her head falling back, her hair cascading down her back, water droplets flying from the ends.
Somi moved to kneel behind Sana, her hands reaching around to cup Sana's breasts from behind, her fingers joining Mark's in teasing the sensitive flesh. Her mouth found Sana's neck, sucking marks into her skin, her teeth grazing the tendon there.
"Does it feel good?" Somi whispered, her voice carrying to Mark. "Does her pussy feel good around your cock?"
"Incredible," Mark groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet Sana's movements. "So fucking incredible."
Jihyo positioned herself between his legs, her face level with where he and Sana were joined. She watched them fuck, her eyes dark with lust, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Then she leaned forward, her tongue finding Sana's clit, licking around where Mark's cock entered her, tasting their combined arousal.
"Oh god," Sana cried out, her movements stuttering. "Oh god, Jihyo, your tongue.."
Jihyo didn't stop, her mouth working Sana's clit while Mark continued to thrust into her, the dual sensations driving Sana wild. Her hands gripped Mark's shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, her moans becoming continuous, building toward another peak.
Mark could feel his own orgasm building again, his balls tightening, his cock swelling inside Sana's tight heat. He reached down with one hand, finding Jihyo's hair, gripping it, holding her to them as he fucked Sana harder, faster.
"I'm going to come," he warned, his voice strained. "I'm going to come inside you, Sana."
"Yes," she begged, her voice high and desperate. "Yes, please, fill me up. I want to feel you spill inside me."
He exploded, his cock pulsing, hot cum flooding her depths, triggering her own orgasm. She clamped down on him, her pussy milking him, her scream echoing across the rooftop. Jihyo continued to lick them both, her tongue collecting their combined release, her moans of pleasure vibrating against Sana's sensitive flesh.
When it was over, when they were all spent and trembling, they collapsed together on the poolside, bodies entangled, skin slick with sweat and water and other fluids. The city lights twinkled above them, indifferent to their debauchery, and the night stretched on, promising more pleasure, more exploration, more of this perfect, hedonistic paradise they had created together.
Sana lay on top of Mark, her head on his chest, her body limp and satisfied. Somi and Jihyo curled against his sides, their hands roaming lazily over his skin, their touches gentle now, exploratory rather than demanding.
"That was.." Somi started, her voice trailing off.
"Amazing," Jihyo finished.
"Just the beginning," Sana murmured, her lips curving into a smile against Mark's skin. "The night is still young. And we have a room upstairs with a very large bed.
Mark closed his eyes, his hands finding their bodies, stroking soft skin, memorizing curves. He was exhausted, yes, but already he could feel his body stirring again, responding to their proximity, their heat.
"Give me five minutes," he said, his voice rough. "Then we'll see who begs for mercy first."
Laughter bubbled up from all three women, bright and delighted, filling the night air with promise. They had hours ahead of them, hours of pleasure and exploration, hours to learn every inch of each other's bodies. And Mark intended to make the most of every single second.
They lay there in comfortable silence, the sounds of the city a distant backdrop to their breathing, their heartbeats. The pool water lapped gently against the sides, and somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, but here, in this private oasis, they were alone in their world of sensation.
Sana shifted, her hand trailing down Mark's stomach, finding his cock, still half-hard, sticky with their combined release. She stroked him gently, her touch light, teasing.
"Already recovering," she observed, her voice filled with admiration. "I knew Jihyo wasn't exaggerating."
"He's insatiable," Jihyo agreed, her own hand joining Sana's, both women stroking him slowly, coaxing him back to full hardness.
"Perfect," Somi purred, her mouth finding Mark's nipple, her tongue circling the sensitive flesh. "Absolutely perfect."
Mark groaned, his hips bucking into their combined touch, his body responding despite the exhaustion. He was theirs tonight, completely and utterly, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
The night stretched before them, endless and full of promise, and they had only just begun to explore the depths of their desire.
Back in the suite, the air conditioning hummed softly against the heated atmosphere they had carried in from the pool. Their bodies, still damp with chlorinated water and the evidence of their prolonged coupling, left faint traces on the plush carpet as they moved through the living space. Jihyo, Sana, and Somi had donned the white bathrobes provided by the hotel, though the garments did little to conceal their nakedness beneath, the thin cotton clinging to wet curves and revealing more than they hid.
Somi was the first to shed hers, the fabric pooling at her feet with a soft whisper. She stretched, her arms reaching toward the ceiling, her body a study in golden perfection. Her breasts lifted with the movement, nipples still hard and dark against her pale areolas, and the muscles of her abdomen flexed, leading the eye down to her shaved mound, glistening still with arousal and pool water.
"I need a shower badly," she announced, her voice carrying that particular satisfaction that came from being thoroughly used and yet still wanting more. "I can still feel him inside me, and I want to be clean before I get dirty again."
Jihyo laughed, the sound rich and warm, and she too shed her robe, revealing her own body in its post-coital glory. Her skin was flushed pink, particularly across her chest and thighs, marks of their passionate encounters beginning to bloom in the form of light bruises and suction kisses. Between her legs, her dark hair was matted with their combined fluids, evidence of Mark's release inside her.
"Come on then," Jihyo said, taking Somi's hand. "We'll shower together. Save water."
"And time," Somi added with a wicked grin, her eyes finding Mark's with a promise that made his spent cock twitch in anticipation.
The two women disappeared into the bathroom, their giggles and the sound of running water soon filling the space. Mark stood in the living room, suddenly aware of his own nudity, his body cooling in the air-conditioned environment. He had not bothered with a robe, his skin still bearing the marks of their attentions, scratches and bites that he would wear with pride.
Sana remained, having settled onto the plush sofa, her own robe still clinging to her shoulders though it had fallen open to reveal the valley between her breasts. She patted the cushion beside her, her eyes inviting, and Mark moved to join her, his body sinking into the soft cushions with a sigh of relief.
They sat side by side, naked beneath their respective states of undress, the silence between them comfortable and charged. Sana's hair was still damp, darker now that it was wet, curling slightly at the ends where it touched her shoulders. She turned to face him, her expression soft, satiated, and yet still hungry in a way that had nothing to do with food.
"You're incredible," she said, her voice quiet, almost shy despite everything they had done together. "I mean it. What you did out there.. the way you touched us, the way you made us feel.."
Mark turned to face her, his hand finding hers where it rested on the cushion between them. Her fingers were small, delicate, but he remembered the strength in them when she had gripped his cock, when she had scratched his back in the throes of passion.
"You're the incredible one," he replied, his voice sincere. "All three of you. I've never.. I've never experienced anything like tonight. The way you give yourselves so completely, so unreservedly. It's intoxicating."
Sana's cheeks flushed, a deeper pink than the flush of arousal, and she ducked her head, her hair falling forward to curtain her face. "We trust you," she said, looking up through her lashes. "Jihyo vetted you, and that's enough for us. But more than that.. there's something about you. Something that makes us want to open ourselves completely."
"Your body is beautiful," Mark said, his free hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers trailing down her neck, her collarbone, to rest lightly on her breast through the open robe. "Every inch of you. Your breasts," he cupped one, feeling the weight, the softness, the way her nipple hardened against his palm. "They're perfect. Heavy and soft and responsive."
Sana's breath hitched, her chest rising into his touch. "You like them?" she asked, though her smile said she knew the answer.
"I love them," Mark confirmed, his thumb brushing over her nipple, making her gasp. "I love the way they feel in my hands, the way they taste, the way they bounce when I'm inside you."
"And my pussy?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper, her legs shifting apart slightly, inviting his gaze.
"Wet and tight and hot," Mark growled, his hand sliding down her stomach, his fingers finding her mound, still slick with his earlier release. "The way you grip me when I'm inside you, the way you pulse around my cock when you come. It's the most incredible feeling I've ever known."
"You're making me wet again," Sana admitted, her hips rocking slightly against his fingers. "Just talking about it. Just your words."
"Good," Mark said, leaning closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Because I want to be inside you again. I want to feel you come around me, screaming my name."
Sana turned her head, capturing his lips with hers, the kiss starting gentle but quickly deepening, becoming desperate and hungry. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, her robe falling open completely, leaving her naked against him. Mark's hand worked between her legs, his fingers sliding through her folds, finding her clit, circling it with practiced pressure.
"Mark," she gasped against his mouth, her hips bucking into his touch. "Mark, please.."
He was about to lift her onto his lap, to impale her on his already hardening cock, when a voice interrupted them from the hallway.
"Well, well," Jihyo said, her tone amused and commanding. "Starting without us?"
Mark and Sana broke apart, both turning to see Jihyo and Somi standing in the bathroom doorway, steam billowing out behind them. They wore only towels, wrapped loosely around their bodies, hair wet and slicked back, skin pink and clean from the shower.
"We were just.. talking," Sana said, her voice breathless, her face flushed.
"Talking," Somi repeated, her eyebrow raised. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
"Come here," Jihyo commanded, crooking her finger at Sana. "You two need to shower. You're still covered in.. evidence."
Sana pouted, her lower lip pushing out in an expression that was both childish and erotic. "But I don't want to move. I was comfortable."
"And you can be comfortable in the shower," Jihyo said, moving forward to take Sana's hand, pulling her to her feet. "Go. Take Mark with you. Wash each other. Explore each other."
She turned to Mark, her eyes dark and serious. "He's going to stay here tonight. All night. And you, Sana, can take him anytime you want. Anywhere you want. He's ours until morning."
Sana's pout transformed into a smile, wicked and delighted. "Anytime?"
"Anytime," Jihyo confirmed. "But first, clean up. I want you both fresh for round.. what are we on now? Four? Five?"
"I lost count," Somi admitted, her towel slipping slightly to reveal the swell of her breast.
"Go," Jihyo said, pushing Sana toward the bathroom. "Take your time. We have all night."
Sana took Mark's hand, pulling him up from the sofa, her naked body pressed against his side as they moved toward the bathroom. She looked back over her shoulder at Jihyo and Somi, her expression playful.
"Don't start without us," she said.
"No promises," Somi called back, already moving toward the bedroom, her towel dropping to the floor behind her.
The bathroom was steamy, the mirrors fogged, the scent of hotel soap and shampoo heavy in the air. The shower was large, a walk-in affair with multiple heads and bench seating along one wall, big enough for several people. Sana turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was hot, almost scalding, steam rising in thick clouds.
"Come here," she said, stepping under the spray, her body immediately slick with water.
Mark joined her, the heat of the water pounding against his tired muscles, soothing aches he hadn't realized he had. Sana reached for a bottle of body wash, pouring a generous amount into her palm, and began to wash him, her hands sliding over his chest, his arms, his back, her touch thorough and intimate.
"My turn," Mark said, taking the bottle from her, pouring soap into his own hands.
He started with her shoulders, working the lather into her skin, his fingers kneading the muscle there, working out tension. He moved down her arms, to her hands, washing each finger individually, his touch gentle and reverent. Then up to her neck, her throat, his thumbs brushing over her pulse point, feeling her heartbeat racing.
"Turn around," he commanded, and she obeyed, presenting her back to him.
He washed her back in long strokes, from her shoulders to the curve of her ass, his hands sliding into the cleft between her cheeks, making her gasp. Then down her legs, her calves, her feet, lifting each one to wash thoroughly before rising again.
"Face me," he said, his voice rough.
She turned, and he began to wash her front, starting at her collarbone, working down to her breasts. He took his time there, cupping each one, lifting them, his thumbs circling her nipples, the soap making his touch slippery and smooth. Sana's head fell back against the tile, her eyes closing, her breath coming in short gasps.
"Mark," she whispered. "Please.."
"Please what?" he asked, his hands sliding down her stomach, to her hips, her thighs.
"Please touch me. Really touch me."
He understood, his hand sliding between her legs, his fingers finding her clit, swollen and sensitive. He circled it with his soapy fingers, the slickness making the touch glide, intense and overwhelming. Sana's knees buckled, and he caught her, his other arm wrapping around her waist, holding her up as he continued to tease her.
"More," she begged. "Inside. Please, I need you inside."
Mark positioned her against the shower wall, her back against the cool tile, her legs wrapping around his waist. He was hard, had been hard since they entered the shower, and he positioned himself at her entrance, dragging his head through her folds, coating himself in her wetness.
"Look at me," he commanded, waiting until her eyes opened, dark and glazed with desire. "Watch me enter you."
He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, her tightness gripping him, resisting slightly before yielding. She was hot inside, hotter than the shower water, and wet, so wet that he slid deep with ease despite her tightness. When he was fully seated, his pelvis pressed against hers, he paused, letting her feel him, letting her adjust to his size.
"Forty-five minutes," she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Jihyo said take our time. We have forty-five minutes."
"Then we'll use every second," Mark promised, beginning to move.
He established a slow rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in, each thrust deliberate and deep. The water pounded down on them, running in rivers over their joined bodies, the steam surrounding them like a cocoon. Sana's breasts bounced with each thrust, and he bent his head to capture one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.
"Yes," she chanted, her hips meeting his thrusts. "Yes, just like that. Harder. Deeper."
He increased his pace, his hips snapping against hers, the sound of flesh meeting flesh mixing with the water. He reached between them, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he fucked her, feeling her tighten around him, her orgasm building.
"Not yet," he growled, pulling out suddenly, making her cry out at the loss.
"Turn around," he commanded, spinning her to face the wall. "Bend over."
She obeyed, her hands flat against the tile, her ass presented to him, water running down her spine, pooling in the dimples above her buttocks. He positioned himself behind her, gripping her hips, and entered her in one hard stroke, bottoming out with a force that made her scream.
From this angle, she was even tighter, her walls gripping him like a vice, and he could feel every inch of her, the texture of her inner walls, the way she fluttered around him. He reached around her, his hands finding her breasts, squeezing them, pinching her nipples, his chest pressed against her back.
"Touch yourself," he commanded, his voice rough in her ear. "Play with your clit while I fuck you."
Her hand moved between her legs, her fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in frantic circles as he pounded into her from behind. The shower filled with the sounds of their fucking, wet and obscene, mixing with their moans and gasps.
"Close," she warned, her voice breaking. "I'm so close."
"Come for me," Mark commanded, his own release building, his balls tightening. "Come on my cock, Sana. Show me how much you love it."
She shattered, her cry echoing off the tiles, her body convulsing, her pussy clamping down on him in rhythmic spasms that triggered his own orgasm. He thrust deep, holding himself buried to the hilt, and spilled inside her, hot and thick, filling her completely.
They stayed like that for long moments, connected, his cock pulsing inside her, her body trembling around him. The water continued to pour down, washing away the evidence of their passion, leaving them clean and sated.
When he finally pulled out, Sana turned in his arms, her face flushed, her eyes bright. She kissed him, soft and sweet, a contrast to the violence of their coupling.
"That was.." she started, her voice trailing off.
"Perfect," Mark finished.
They finished their shower in silence, washing each other again, more gently this time, their touches exploratory rather than demanding. When they finally emerged, wrapped in fresh towels, they found Jihyo and Somi waiting in the bedroom, both naked on the large bed, posed like odalisques in some erotic painting.
Jihyo lay on her side, her head propped on one hand, her body a curve of soft skin and dark hair. Somi was on her back, her legs slightly parted, her golden skin glowing in the lamplight. Both women looked up as Mark and Sana entered, their expressions hungry and inviting.
"You took your time," Jihyo observed, her eyes roaming over their towel-clad bodies.
"We were thorough," Sana replied, dropping her towel and climbing onto the bed, crawling toward Somi.
"Come here," Somi said, reaching out for Mark, her arms open and welcoming.
Mark dropped his own towel and moved to the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He lay between them, Jihyo at his back, Somi at his front, Sana curling around Somi like a cat. Four bodies, warm and soft and willing, entangled in the large bed.
"You wanna come over..?" Jihyo whispered in his ear, her hand sliding down his stomach to find his cock, already stirring again despite his exhaustion.
"We're waiting for you," Somi added, her leg hooking over his hip, her wetness pressing against his thigh.
The night stretched before them, hours of darkness filled with the sounds of pleasure, the scent of sex, the feeling of skin on skin. They moved together, shifting positions, mouths finding breasts and cocks and pussies, hands roaming, bodies joining and separating and joining again.
Mark lost himself in them, in the taste of Jihyo's nipples, the feel of Somi's tightness around his fingers, the sound of Sana's moans as he licked her to orgasm. They took him in turns, riding him, sucking him, presenting themselves to be used and pleasured. He fucked them in every position he could imagine, and some they taught him, their flexibility and enthusiasm endless.
At one point, he had Jihyo on her back, her legs over his shoulders as he drove into her, while Sana sat on her face, grinding against her mouth, and Somi knelt beside them, her fingers working her own clit as she watched. At another, Somi was on her hands and knees, Mark behind her, his cock buried in her ass while Jihyo lay beneath them, licking his balls and her clit, and Sana kissed him over Somi's shoulder, her hands pinching her own nipples.
The combinations were endless, their hunger insatiable. They came countless times, Mark filling each of them, their bodies marked by his release, their skin flushed and sensitive. The bed became a mess of sweat and cum and arousal, the sheets tangled and damp, the pillows scattered to the floor.
And through it all, they talked, whispered filthy encouragements, praised each other's bodies, described what they wanted, what they felt, what they needed. Their voices filled the room, breathless and broken by pleasure, creating a symphony of desire that lasted until the early hours of the morning.
When exhaustion finally claimed them, they collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and satisfied bodies, Mark in the center, the three women curled around him like protective spirits. He fell asleep with his hand on Jihyo's breast, his leg tangled with Sana's, his face buried in Somi's hair, the scent of them surrounding him, the warmth of their bodies his blanket.
It was, without question, the most perfect night of his life.
Morning came with soft light filtering through the curtains, gentle and golden, casting warm rectangles across the bed. Mark woke slowly, consciousness returning in layers, his body aching in the most pleasant way, muscles sore from exertion, skin sensitive to the touch.
He became aware of his surroundings gradually, the softness of the mattress beneath him, the warmth of bodies on either side, the scent of sex and perfume and sleep that filled the air. He opened his eyes to find himself staring up at the ceiling, the white plaster marked with shadows from the window blinds.
To his left, Somi stirred, her blonde hair tickling his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. She was pressed against his side, one leg thrown over his hip, her breasts soft pillows against his arm. To his right, Jihyo was curled into him, her dark hair spread across the pillow, her hand resting on his chest, rising and falling with his breathing.
They were all still naked, the sheets having been kicked off sometime in the night, their bodies exposed to the morning air. Mark could see the marks of their passion on their skin, bruises and bites and scratches, evidence of the hours of pleasure they had shared.
Sana was not in the bed, but he could hear sounds from the bathroom, water running, the toilet flushing. She emerged a moment later, still naked, her hair sleep-tousled, her eyes heavy with lingering drowsiness. She saw him awake and smiled, a slow, satisfied expression that lit up her face.
"Morning," she whispered, moving to the bed, crawling across the mattress toward him.
"Morning," he whispered back, his voice rough from sleep and disuse.
Somi stirred at the sound of their voices, her eyes fluttering open, blue and confused for a moment before clearing, recognition dawning. She smiled, stretching like a cat, her body arching off the bed, her breasts thrusting upward.
"Good morning," she purred, her voice thick with sleep.
Jihyo was the last to wake, her hand tightening on Mark's chest, her eyes opening to find him looking down at her. She smiled, soft and intimate, a private expression meant only for him.
"Hey," she said, her voice husky.
"Hey," he replied, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
Somi, fully awake now, pushed herself up on one elbow, her gaze roaming over Mark's face with a hunger that had not been satisfied by the night's activities. "I want a good morning kiss," she announced, her tone playful but her eyes serious.
"Me too," Jihyo said, pouting slightly.
Mark laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest. "There's enough of me to go around."
Somi was the first to act, her hand coming up to cup his face, turning him toward her. She kissed him, deep and thorough, her tongue invading his mouth, tasting him, claiming him. Her breasts pressed against his side, her nipples hard points against his skin, and he could feel her heat, her desire already building again despite the exhaustion.
When she pulled back, Jihyo was waiting, her own hands insistent as she pulled him to her, her mouth finding his with equal desperation. She kissed him differently than Somi, slower, more thorough, her tongue dancing with his in a languid rhythm that spoke of satisfaction and lingering hunger.
While they kissed, Somi moved, straddling his waist, her hands gripping his face, pulling him away from Jihyo and burying his face in her chest. Her breasts enveloped him, soft and warm and smelling of sleep and sex, her nipples hard against his cheeks.
"Jihyo," Somi complained, her voice mock-whining. "You're hogging him."
"He's mine too," Jihyo replied, but she was laughing, her hand reaching out to stroke Somi's hair.
Mark took advantage of his position, his tongue darting out to lick at Somi's nipple, circling it, sucking it into his mouth. She gasped, her hands gripping his hair, holding him to her breast. He switched to the other, giving it equal attention, his hands coming up to knead the soft flesh, his fingers pinching and rolling.
"That feels so good," Somi moaned, her hips grinding against his stomach, seeking friction.
Jihyo, not to be outdone, moved closer, presenting her own breasts to him as Somi shifted to give her access. Mark turned his head, his mouth finding Jihyo's nipple, sucking hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. She gasped, her hand joining Somi's in his hair, both women holding him, guiding him from one breast to another.
"Switch," Somi commanded, and they moved him again, back and forth, his mouth working their nipples, his hands kneading their breasts, the soft flesh filling his palms.
His own arousal was building, his cock hardening against his stomach, trapped between his body and Somi's ass. He reached down with one hand, finding Jihyo's pussy, his fingers sliding through her folds, finding her clit, circling it. She was wet, already aroused despite the night's activities, her body ready for more.
"Oh god," Jihyo gasped, her hips bucking into his touch. "Mark, your fingers.."
He didn't stop, his fingers working her clit while his mouth continued to feast on her breasts, switching between her and Somi, his other hand finding Somi's pussy, giving her the same attention. Both women were moaning now, their hips rocking, their hands in his hair, their breasts pressed against his face.
Then he felt it, a wet heat enveloping his cock, tight and perfect. He groaned into Somi's breast, his hips bucking upward, and heard Sana's muffled laugh.
"Good morning," she said, her voice vibrating around his shaft as she took him deeper into her mouth.
She was between his legs, her head bobbing, her mouth working his cock with expert precision. She sucked him deep, the head hitting the back of her throat, her tongue swirling around his length, her hand stroking what she couldn't take.
"Fuck," Mark groaned, his hands still working Jihyo and Somi, his mind overwhelmed by the sensation of being touched everywhere at once.
"She's good, isn't she?" Somi purred, her hips rocking against his fingers. "Sana gives the best head. She loves it. Loves the taste of cock."
"I love the taste of him," Sana corrected, pulling back to speak, her hand stroking him firmly. "He tastes like sex and man and last night. I could suck him all day."
"Then suck him," Jihyo commanded, her voice breathless. "Make him come. I want to see him spill down your throat."
Sana obeyed, her mouth descending again, taking him deep, her throat relaxing around his head, swallowing around him. The sensation was incredible, wet and hot and tight, and Mark could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening.
But Sana had other plans. She pulled back with a pop, her hand still stroking him, and climbed up his body, positioning herself above him, her pussy hovering over his cock.
"I want to ride you," she said, her eyes dark with desire. "I want to feel you come inside me while they watch."
She lowered herself slowly, inch by inch, her tightness gripping him, sucking him in. She was wet, so wet that he slid deep with ease, her walls fluttering around his intrusion. When she was fully seated, her ass resting against his thighs, his entire length buried inside her, she paused, her head falling back, her breasts thrusting upward.
"Perfect," she breathed. "He fills me so perfectly."
Somi and Jihyo moved to either side of her, their hands finding her breasts, their mouths finding her nipples, sucking and licking as she began to move. They created a tableau of erotic perfection, three beautiful women focused on pleasure, on him, their bodies moving in sync.
Sana rode him with slow, deliberate movements, her hips rolling in a sinuous rhythm, her pussy gripping him with each upward stroke. Mark reached up, his hands finding Somi and Jihyo's breasts, kneading them, his thumbs brushing over their nipples, his fingers pinching and rolling.
"Link her nipples," Mark commanded, his voice rough. "Both of you. Suck her together."
Somi and Jihyo obeyed, moving closer, their mouths finding Sana's nipples, both women sucking at the same time, their tongues meeting around the sensitive flesh. Sana cried out, her movements becoming erratic, her orgasm building quickly.
"Yes," she chanted, her hands gripping their heads, holding them to her breasts. "Yes, just like that. I'm going to come. Mark, I'm going to come on your cock."
"Come," he commanded, his own hips thrusting up to meet her movements. "Come for me, Sana. Milk my cock."
She shattered, her cry echoing off the walls, her body convulsing, her pussy clamping down on him in rhythmic spasms that triggered his own release. He thrust deep, holding himself buried to the hilt, and spilled inside her, hot and thick, filling her completely.
Somi and Jihyo continued to suck her nipples, their hands roaming over her body, prolonging her pleasure, drawing out her orgasm until she collapsed against Mark's chest, spent and trembling.
"Perfect morning," Somi observed, her hand stroking Sana's hair.
"The perfect morning," Jihyo agreed, her lips curving into a satisfied smile.
They lay there for long moments, connected, sated, the morning light warming their skin. Eventually, necessity drove them from the bed, the needs of the body asserting themselves over the pleasures of the flesh.
"I need coffee," Jihyo announced, stretching as she sat up, her breasts bouncing with the movement. "And food. We burned a lot of calories last night."
"I could eat," Somi agreed, climbing out of bed, her naked body moving with unconscious grace toward the bathroom.
"I need to get home," Mark said, regret coloring his voice. "Change. Work. I have a meeting at ten."
The three women turned to him, identical expressions of disappointment on their faces.
"Already?" Sana asked, her lower lip pushing out in a pout. "But we were just getting started."
"I have to," Mark said, sitting up, his muscles protesting the movement. "I wish I could stay. You have no idea how much I wish I could stay."
"Stay for breakfast," Jihyo pleaded, moving to sit beside him, her hand on his thigh. "Just half an hour more. Let us feed you. Let us take care of you one more time before you go."
Mark looked at her, at the three of them, naked and beautiful and wanting him, and felt his resolve waver. But responsibility called, the real world intruding on their fantasy.
"I can't," he said, regret heavy in his voice. "I'm already going to be late. I need to go home, shower, change. I can't go to work smelling like sex and wearing the same clothes from yesterday."
The women exchanged glances, silent communication passing between them. Then Somi sighed, moving to the wardrobe where their clothes had been stored, pulling out his jeans and t-shirt from the night before.
"Fine," she said, her voice resigned but understanding. "But you're coming back. Right?"
"Right," Mark promised, standing, accepting his clothes from her. "As soon as I can. This weekend?"
"This Sunday," Jihyo said, her tone brooking no argument. "Come to my house. There's a rule on Sundays that you'll surely like and I'll introduce you to a guest.."
"What rule? and who's that?" Mark asked, pulling on his jeans, the fabric rough against his sensitive skin.
"You'll see," Jihyo said, her smile mysterious and promising. "Just come. Early. And don't eat breakfast beforehand. You'll need your energy."
Mark dressed quickly, the three women helping him, their touches lingering, their hands straightening his shirt, smoothing his hair, adjusting his collar. They were possessive in their care, marking him as theirs even as they prepared to let him go.
At the door, they gathered around him, each demanding a final kiss. Somi was first, her mouth hungry, her tongue invading, her hand cupping his cock through his jeans one last time. Then Jihyo, her kiss slower, deeper, filled with promise and future plans. Finally Sana, soft and sweet, her lips clinging to his, her body pressed against him, her heat evident even through their clothes.
"Sunday," Jihyo reminded him as he stepped into the hallway.
"Sunday," he confirmed, looking back at them, three naked women standing in the doorway, their bodies glowing in the morning light, their hair tousled, their lips swollen from his kisses.
"Bye Mark," Somi called, her voice carrying down the corridor.
"Bye," Sana echoed, her hand raised in a small wave.
"See you soon," Jihyo said, her smile the last thing he saw before the door closed.
Mark walked down the hallway, his body sore, his mind filled with memories, his skin still carrying their scent. He stepped into the elevator, then out into the lobby, then onto the street, the real world rushing to meet him, but he carried the night with him, a secret treasure as his mind drifted to what Jihyo said, "The Rule.." and "One guest.."
The kitchen smelled of bacon and coffee, the familiar morning hum of the house settling around Y/N as he sat at the table, picking at a plate of scrambled eggs. Sunlight streamed through the window above the sink, casting warm rectangles across the worn wooden floor. He was still half-dazed from the previous night—the taste of J's lips, the feel of her tongue, the way she'd stroked him until he'd almost come undone. He'd barely slept, replaying every moment, his cock twitching under the table just from the memory.
The soft padding of footsteps on the stairs pulled him from his reverie. He didn't look up, staring resolutely at his plate, but he knew it was her. The faint scent of jasmine and honey drifted into the room before she even reached the bottom step.
"Morning, step-bro," J's voice came from behind him, light and teasing.
Y/N grunted in response, his throat tight. He heard her approach, felt the shift in air, and then—her warm breath against his ear, the wet tip of her tongue sliding along the inner curve of his ear. A low, quiet moan vibrated from her throat, barely a whisper, but it sent a bolt of electricity straight to his groin. Her lips brushed his earlobe as she murmured, "Loved the practice last night. We should do it again. I know I can take all of you next time."
His cock hardened instantly, straining against his joggers. He gripped the fork so hard his knuckles went white, his face burning. J pulled back, her voice returning to its normal sweet tone as she circled the table and sat down opposite him, her lips curved in a smug smile.
Y/N couldn't look at her. He stared at his eggs, the yellow yolks suddenly looking obscene. He heard her pour herself a glass of orange juice, the clink of the pitcher against the glass. She hummed softly—a Stayc song, he realized with a jolt. Her song, the one he'd edited.
"Sleep well?" she asked, her tone innocent.
"Fine," he muttered.
The stairs creaked again, heavier this time. Jiheon's voice called out, "Smells good! Did Mom leave the bacon out?"
She walked into the kitchen, her hair still damp from a shower, wearing a bright red dotted blouse and a white short skirt. Her eyes flicked between Y/N and J, her brow furrowing slightly. She grabbed a plate and sat down next to J, across from Y/N.
"Morning," Jiheon said, spearing a piece of bacon. "You two are quiet."
"Just tired," J replied, her foot—bare, warm—finding Y/N's ankle under the table. He flinched, nearly knocking over his glass.
"Careful with those late night study sessions, J-ah." Jiheon added, her eyes narrowing. She looked at Y/N, who was still avoiding her gaze. "You okay? You look like you saw a ghost."
"Fine," Y/N repeated, his voice strangled.
The meal continued in a tense rhythm. Jiheon chatted about school, about a test she had, about her boyfriend who kept upseting her. J responded with polite interest, but her foot was moving. It slid up Y/N's calf, slow and deliberate, tracing the line of his shin. He tried to shift his leg away, but she followed, her toes curling against the fabric of his joggers. Higher. Her foot reached his knee, then his thigh, pressing gently into the muscle.
Y/N's breath hitched. He took a gulp of orange juice, the cold liquid doing nothing to cool the heat pooling in his groin. His cock was painfully hard now, pressing against the waistband of his joggers, a visible tent forming.
Jiheon's chatter faltered. She glanced at Y/N, then at J, who was smiling serenely, her foot still working. Jiheon's eyes dropped—just a flicker—to the table edge, then lower. She leaned slightly, peering under the table.
Y/N saw her expression shift. Her eyes widened, then narrowed. Her jaw tightened. She looked at J, then back at Y/N, her lips pressing into a thin line.
"Something interesting down there?" Jiheon asked, her voice flat.
J's foot didn't stop. "Just stretching my legs. Cramps."
Jiheon's gaze burned into Y/N. He felt his face flush hotter. He wanted to disappear, to sink through the floor. But J's foot kept massaging his thigh, and his cock kept throbbing, and the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Mom's working late tonight," Jiheon said, her tone suddenly cold. "She said we should order pizza."
"Great," J said, her foot sliding higher, brushing against the base of his erection. "I'm in the mood for something… filling."
Y/N nearly choked on his toast.
The school day was a blur of heat and distraction. The afternoon sun blazed through the classroom windows, and Y/N's mind was everywhere but on his lessons. The memory of J's mouth on his ear, the feel of her foot on his thigh, the way Jiheon's eyes had darkened with something that looked like jealousy—it all swirled together, making him hard again in the middle of history class. He had to adjust himself, praying no one noticed.
By the time the final bell rang, he was drenched in sweat. The air outside was thick and humid, the kind of heat that seeped through clothes and clung to skin. He walked home slowly, his bag heavy on his shoulder, his thoughts churning.
The house was quiet when he let himself in. The AC hummed, a welcome relief. He dropped his bag by the door and kicked off his shoes, heading straight for the stairs. A shower was the only thing on his mind—cold water, to wash away the sweat and the lingering tension.
He climbed the stairs, his steps heavy. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, steam curling out. He didn't think twice. He pushed it open, his eyes already on the toilet, his hand reaching for the light switch.
Then he saw it.
A pink bra, lacy and delicate, draped over the edge of the sink. The cups were padded, the straps thin. A pair of matching panties—tiny, barely there—lay crumpled on the floor beside a towel.
Y/N froze. His eyes followed the trail of clothing—a tank top, a pair of shorts—leading to the glass shower door. And through the fogged glass, a silhouette. Curves, wet skin, water streaming down.
The door slid open.
Jiheon stood there, naked, water beading on her shoulders, her breasts full and round, nipples dark and erect. Her hair was plastered to her face, her eyes wide with surprise—or feigned surprise.
"Oh, hey, step-bro," she said, her voice carrying over the sound of the shower. "I didn't know you came home early. Mind giving me a hand in here?"
Y/N's mouth went dry. His eyes locked on her body—the curve of her waist, the dark triangle between her legs, the way the water traced paths down her skin. He couldn't look away.
"Jiheon, so sorry," he stammered, his voice cracking. "I didn't even see you in there. I just had to use the bathroom asap."
He turned to flee, but her voice stopped him.
"Wait."
He didn't. He reached for the door handle, but it was already too late. Her hand—wet, warm—caught his wrist. She pulled him back, her strength surprising. He stumbled, his feet slipping on the damp tile.
"Don't be shy," she said, her voice low, husky. "You've been making edits of me and my unnies for months. J told me. Plus, i've seen the way you're looking at my ass when I bend over. I've seen the way you stare at J's boobs. You want to fuck us."
"I—" He couldn't form words.
She stepped closer, her body radiating heat. The water from the shower was still running, spraying mist into the air. She reached for the hem of his shirt, her fingers brushing his stomach.
"You're all sweaty," she said. "Come on. Let me help you clean up."
She pulled him forward, her hands firm on his chest, pushing him toward the shower. The warm spray hit him, soaking his shirt instantly. He gasped, the cold shock of the water mixing with the heat of her body.
"Jiheon, we shouldn't—"
"Shouldn't what?" She pulled his shirt up, over his head. It stuck to his skin, but she tugged it free, tossing it onto the bathroom floor. Her hands went to his belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. "You didn't seem to mind last night with J."
His eyes widened. "How did you—"
"I saw the way she was looking at you this morning. I saw her foot. And I saw the tent in your pants." She unbuttoned his jeans, pulling the zipper down. "I'm not stupid, Y/N. I know what's going on."
He wanted to deny it, but his body betrayed him. His cock was already hard, straining against his boxers. She noticed, her lips curling into a smile.
"Looks like you're ready for round two," she said, her voice dripping with mockery and desire.
She pushed his jeans down, his boxers following. His cock sprang free, standing tall, the tip already glistening with precum. She knelt in front of him, the water cascading over her shoulders, her breasts swaying with the movement.
"Fuck, you're big," she breathed, her hand wrapping around his shaft. "No wonder J was so eager."
She leaned forward, her tongue flicking out to taste the tip. He shuddered, his hands gripping the shower door frame for support. Her lips closed around him, sucking gently, drawing him into the wet heat of her mouth.
"Jiheon…" he groaned, his head falling back.
She took him deeper, her tongue swirling along the underside, her hand pumping the base. She moved with a rhythm that was practiced, hungry, her eyes looking up at him through the water. The steam swirled around them, the only sounds the hiss of the shower and the wet, obscene noises of her mouth working his cock.
"God, you taste good," she murmured, pulling off for a moment, her hand still stroking. "J didn't get to finish you, did she? I bet she was too scared."
He couldn't answer. His hips were moving, thrusting into her hand, into her mouth. She took him again, deeper this time, her throat relaxing as she swallowed him down. He felt the tip hit the back of her throat, felt her gag slightly, but she pushed through, taking him all the way.
Her hands moved to his balls, cupping them, squeezing gently. She bobbed her head, faster now, the water sluicing over her back. The pressure built in his groin, a coil of heat tightening, threatening to snap.
"I'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice ragged.
She didn't pull away. She sucked harder, her hand working in tandem, her eyes locked on his. The sight of her—naked, kneeling, water streaming down her face, his cock buried in her mouth—was too much.
He came with a guttural cry, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into her mouth. She swallowed, her throat working, but some of it escaped, spilling over her lips and onto her chin. She pulled back, his cock sliding out with a wet pop, and looked up at him, a string of cum connecting her lips to his tip.
Then she stood, her body glistening. She cupped her breasts, pushing them together, and tilted her head.
"Now," she said, her voice low and commanding, "finish what you started. Cover me."
His cock was still hard, still aching. She reached down, stroking him once, twice, then aimed his tip at her chest. A few more drops of cum spilled out, but she wasn't satisfied.
"Again," she said, her hand working him faster. "I want to feel it."
He was sensitive, overstimulated, but the sight of her—her breasts, her smirk, the way she handled him—sent another wave of arousal through him. He groaned, his hips thrusting forward, and this time, a thick rope of cum shot out, landing on her left breast. Another, on her right. A third, splattering across her collarbone.
She watched, her eyes half-lidded, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. When he was done, her chest was painted white, the cum mixing with the water, sliding down her skin.
She looked up at him, her fingers tracing through the mess, bringing a drop to her lips. "Good boy," she whispered.
Y/N stood there, panting, his legs weak, his mind reeling. The water continued to fall, washing away the evidence, but the memory lingered. The tension. The heat. The two sisters, each claiming a piece of him.
Jiheon stepped closer, pressing her cum-slicked body against his, her arms wrapping around his neck. She kissed him, deep and slow, her tongue sliding against his. He tasted himself on her lips.
"Now," she said, pulling back, her eyes dark and hungry, "let's talk about what happens next."
"What do you mean next? This is already far enough. I can't believe i came in my step-sister's mouth and that you swallowed it all."
"I did, Y/N. And it was delicious. But we're not done yet. I need to feel you inside me."
"What??? No way we're doing that. I can't believe i let you convince me into doing this."
"Don't act like i forced you. I didn't see you trying to push me away, step-bro. I saw it in your eyes while i was sucking the life out of you. You want me. You want us. Badly."
"I can't keep doing this. I should have never let J talk me into this. I should have just let her tell her unnies about the edits and i would be free now."
"Maybe, but then you'd never get to watch Isa unnie's beautiful peach ass bounce from one side to the other" Jiheon says while her hand is massaging his right cheek. And i know how much you want Jisun unnie too. You watched her Waterbomb fancam 100 times. I could make that happen you know."
"You're lying. Why would she ever be interested in your step-brother?"
"Because she just ended things with her regular hook-up and she would be in dire need of some relief before our summer comeback. And i'd love to tell her all about your big, hardd cock. And all of the things you can do with it. All you have to do is show me first. Then i'll be more than happy to give you a glowing review to her."
Y/N leaned into Jiheon's body and pondered her proposal for a second, but then his thoughts kept drifting to his school crush, Ahyeon, and all of the fun times they had at the school's sci-fi club this summer.
He thought about the way her dark hair was tied up in a ponytail, making her look even more gorgeous. About her stunning white smile, her melodic laugh. He remembered the promise he made to himself muster up the courage and ask her to prom on Tuesday and how badly he wished he could kiss her right now, so he had to take a stand against his step-sisters and their constant teasing.
"I'm sorry noona, but i have someone i like and i don't want to ruin things with her before they even begin. Tell Jisun noona we'll always have those 2 am jerking sessions, but i'm gonna have to pass."
And he walked out the door and into his bedroom, while once more, leaving another step-sister half naked and unsatisfied.
Episodes out weekly!!!
Tags : BFH, some pit stuff, just me gushing for her really because yeah
“Break time’s up! Come on, let’s go!”
“I can’t—no way!” you wheeze, sprawled on the floor. “My legs are on fire, I can’t…let’s just stop here.”
Nien shifts her jaw side-to-side, tilting her head as she looks over your leg. “Your legs are on fire, you say?”
“Yeah! It—”
“Got it!” she chirps, grabbing her water bottle and turning away.
Eh? That easy? No, she surely got something more in mind, this is Nien we’re talking about.
“Whoa.”
Though whatever that is can wait as you pull yourself up and watch her saunter over to the water dispenser. You are but a pig and Nien’s thighs are two juicy carrots, all out in their sweat-shined glory thanks to her tennis skirt.
Water bottle refilled, the main attraction shifts to her toned abs, flexing with every step towards you. You could be drooling right now, you wouldn't know. Not when it joins the river of sweat on your face, and all the space behind it is occupied by awe. In awe that she is somehow your girlfriend.
Nien’s amused giggle brings you back to her bright, full-faced smile; one of the few things that has the power to tear your eyes away from her body.
Smiling back at her, you extend your hand. But instead of handing you the bottle, she pours the contents all over your legs, cackling as you squirm in surprise.
“Ah! Huh—why…what was that for?”
“Tada!” Nien shakes out the last drips, setting the bottle aside. “Now your legs aren’t on fire anymore! I’ve put it out, heh.”
“The—what…really?” you chuckle, caught between amusement and frustration.
“Mhm! Now…” She claps her hands, leaning over with a determined expression. “One. More. Set. Come on, get up!”
You flop back to the floor, whining. “I can’t! It’s too—agh!” Nien yanks you up on your forearms, pushing you against a chest press.
“Baby. Listen to me.” Her voice is an octave lower, her usual sunny beam bringing along its blaze this time. “Are you actually injured?”
You gulp and peer down at your legs, wiggling them a tiny bit. “N–No.”
“Can you move them?”
More of a swing this time around. It’s difficult and makes you wince, but there seems to be a decent range of motion still. “Yes.”
Nien’s grip loosens slightly, holding your biceps rather than gripping them. “Do you want to make them stronger?”
You slowly nod, eyes warming up for some reason. “Y–Yes. Yes, I do.”
Her fiery gaze cools back down to a warm beam, her hands pushing aside the damp hair stuck to your forehead. “Then we do one more—you know what? Let’s just go for six reps this set. That’s it. Then we’re done.”
“Just six?” you croak, lighting up a bit.
“Yup! Just six.”
“Okay.” Your nods are firmer, more certain. “Let’s…let’s do this.”
“Attaboy,” she grins, tapping your shoulders and stepping aside. Letting out a long exhale, you grit and get back onto the leg curling machine, groaning loudly as you get in position.
“Ready?”
“Yup.”
“And go. Up! One.” Wow. Your hamstrings immediately protest, but you just about manage. “Up! Two.” You can’t let their protests drown out your desire though; another hefty pull. “Three!” Fuck, you’re real tempted to just let them win, unable to do this one without shaking.
“Four! Let’s go, you got it, babe!” So you’re shaking. As long as you move, that’s all that matters. “Don’t stop now, come on! Up! Five!” Oh jeez, no way you’re going all the wa—okay, just…maintain your form. Prioritize that. Just one more.
“And…up! Six!” Let’s. Fucking. Go! “Urghh! There! Wow! I did it! I d—”
“I didn’t say we’re done!” she spits, clapping her hands. “Up! Come on! Keep going!”
What the fuck? Didn’t we agree to six—oh, whatever. You’re in the flow of compliance, so you pull another rep, snarling the whole time as it’s the only way you’ll breathe properly.
“Seven! Good, one more!” You don’t know how you got here; your legs would be screaming on top of their lungs if they had a pair, your whole body is shaking, and yet. You grind towards another rep, your vocals matching the raised hurdle.
“Eight! Awesome! Just one more now, one more!”
“Oh my—honey! Nien! Please!” you wheeze, borderline sobbing. “I can’t—”
“Uh–uh! Don’t say that—don’t say anything! Just…try! Pull! Come on!” She leans in, closer to your head. “Up!”
“Urghh!” It feels impossible, sounds impossible, but you bite down hard and somehow thinly manage another rep, even if you only go half as far. “Nine! You’re doing great. One more, baby!”
Forget questioning it. This ends when she says it ends…or when you break. Whichever comes first. “Pfffff!” Try as you might, summon every molecule of reserve energy you have, you can’t do it. You bounce back weakly, not enough breath to verbally protest.
“Well done. Great job, baby,” Nien coos, helping you off the machine. You stumble and fall right into her arms, she lowers to the floor to accommodate.
“You said—” Your throat’s dry from all the panting, only airy wheezes until she hands you the water bottle that’s actually for drinking. “Shhh…slowly, baby. Well done, you’ve earned it.”
“You said we…we were only doing six!” you scowl, looking away from her to sulk. Nien chuckles and starts caressing your temple, lightly playing with your hair.
“And look how many you could actually do,” she whispers, holding up her fingers. “Nine—almost ten! Awesome, right?”
You look at her again, your pursed lips stretching into a half smile at the sight of her proud grin. “That was—” Heavy coughs cut you off, which she helps by tapping your back as you sit up.
“That was…” You look back at the machine, your half smirk growing into a full smile as your breathing levels off. “ …pretty awesome.”
“Hmph. Now you know. So don’t ever…” Nien pulls you in again, making you squeal as she lands multiple firm pecks on your cheek. “ …parrot that ‘I can’t’ bullshit again. Got it?”
“Got—got it! That—mmphh!” you barely get out before she goes for your lips next, and on this one you bounce back, sending her squealing and giggling to the floor.
“Is this your way of pampering me after all that?” you whisper before attacking her cheeks, which she wholeheartedly welcomes.
“Maybe? What, I can’t pamper my sweet man after all that? When he looks this cute?” she pouts, poking your nose and deploying her puppy dog eyes that you’ve yet to develop effective defenses for (and likely never will).
“Tsk. I never said that.” You dash a quick kiss at her lips before lying down next to her, letting your breaths and the gym’s ambient noises settle.
“That was pretty fucking intense though, not gonna lie,” you huff, rubbing your thighs.
“Well…” Nien turns over and throws her leg over you. “ …if we’re gonna raise your limits, we gotta push you to your current one. And you won’t do that if you don’t believe.”
“True,” you nod, grimacing to turn over so you can cup her cheeks. “And now thanks to you, I can.”
“Tsch. That was your hard work, you know. I just said some words.”
“And I wouldn’t have done shit without those words.”
“And you…” She pokes your nose with a ‘boop’ sound. “ …made the decision to listen to them. To ignore what you think and do what you can!”
“Hmph. You’re always so nice to me,” you puff, nuzzling in her shoulder.
“Because you’re not nicer to yourself!” she grumbles, ruffling your hair. “You’re much stronger than you think.”
“Heh. You really think so?”
“Mhm! I’m pretty sure I can prove it, even. Right now.”
You look up at her with a cocked eyebrow. “Oh? And how’s that?” That cheeky, mischievous smirk is back on her face, which you were about to entertain until you feel her slowly grind on your crotch, making you gasp.
“Honey?”
“Mmm…you looked really strong and manly back there. You were so hot…”
Those low, breathy words uttered through Nien’s cheeky expression makes your spine tingle, some heat pooling in your stomach as she continues to rock against you gently. “N–Nien…”
“See, you’ve still got some juice left, don’t you?” she purrs, shifting closer to your ear. “Wanna use it up on me?”
“Nngghhh…” You bite your lip and clutch her sleeve, your erection fully clocked in as it slides between her covered folds. “F–Fuck yeah!”
Nien chuckles and maintains her expression, though her eyes start to waver along with her airier voice. “Then we should hurry on home. But…” She reaches into your shorts, a sharp moan spilling as you flinch. “ …if you can carry me to the locker room, we’ll do it right now.”
“You…serious?”
“Yeah,” she replies breathlessly. “Walls are thick enough, shouldn’t wake the poor receptionist, hehe.”
“If it doesn’t work—” You shudder as she slowly rubs your leaking tip. “—we’ll be banned from here, won’t we?”
“So we find another gym. What’d I say about—ah…” Your hand slides down her exposed back to knead her ass. “Cheater. What’d I say about that attitude?”
“Right.”
“So?” She takes her hand out of your shorts only to suck on her fingers right in front of you. “Still feeling like you’re all spent?”
Your eyes scan the empty gym, landing on the entrance to the locker rooms. It’s a bit of a distance, not something you previously thought would be feasible.
“Hell no.” But you’re not the previous you. Not with Nien.
You clamber to stand up, trying to find a somewhat secure footing. Your legs expectedly wobble and threaten to buckle, but the thing between them has a much louder voice, so you listen to that.
As soon as you seem secure enough, Nien leaps into your arms, coming nerve-reckingly close to toppling you over. “You ready? Deal’s off if you drop me before you get in.”
“You bet.”
You begin the journey across the gym. Somehow, your leg’s strength returned, making the trip without too many hiccups. Though unlike Palpatine’s return, its reasoning is plentiful and sound.
For starters, there’s her lips and neck which your mouth seldom leaves, only pulling away to navigate between the machines lest any bumps waste your precious momentum. Then there’s her firm, yet supple asscheeks, filling out your palms and then some.
There’s the tightness in your shorts, its resident fiending to be reunited with her throbbing heat just behind the fabrics. Not to mention her scent; sweat, deodorant, perfume, makeup, detergent, everything. And then the sounds she makes into your mouth and ear; an addicting mix of giggles, whispers, and those delightful high-pitched moans of hers.
It’s just everything her, really. Everything Nien. Everything about this unfair combo of cute, sexy, heartfelt, dominating, supportive—you’d wear out a typewriter before you run out of ways to describe her. Not that it’s something you ever want to achieve, anyway.
The locker room door thuds against her back like an abrupt jumpcut back to reality, opened with a thrilled shudder from Nien. “Wow, you…you actually made it. I was right!”
Huh. You did. Where’d all that pain go—oh, here it is. “Of–of course I did. Who am I?” you flaunt, setting her down on the changing bench.
“Mmm…cocky, are we?”
“All thanks to you.” You pull away properly at last, dropping to your knees which puts you right in line with her glossy toned abs. You give just one glance at her for confirmation before you start feasting on them, licking up every surface inch you can manage without turning her over.
Nien maintains her cheeky, jovial demeanour, though larger and larger cracks seep through every time you make a close pass above her waistband. Satisfied with her abs, you drag your tongue flat, up from her belly button to just beneath her top.
She lets out an audible gasp, her jaws dropped as you pause with your nose nudged beneath her boobs.
“You’re p–pretty thirsty tonight, huh?”
“Well, it was quite the workout for me so…” You slide your fingers under her top and yank it upwards, freeing her tits. “ …forgive me for being famished.”
Nien’s laugh is cut off by your firm suck at her breast, humming onto the soft flesh. Only one of them though, the curtains need to be drawn for the full show to start. So you try to pull her top off all the way, your impatience only creating a hurdle.
“Here, let me do it.” Nien pulls it off with grace, tossing it onto the other end of the bench. Her hair got all ruffled as a result, and God it makes her look even hotter. You can’t resist taking a detour to her mouth again, lightly chewing on her lip as you pull away.
“You are so fucking hot.”
Yeah, just saying it in your head wasn’t enough. Especially as you’re reduced to low, breathy hums for the next few minutes, worshipping her collarbones, shoulders—all sweet appetisers before the first course.
“And you’re a buffet and a half.”
Starting with a different tit from the teaser. Your lips stretch to fill as much of your mouth with her, twiddling on her rock hard peaks. Longer, less restrained moans join her pants and squeaks, her palms pushing you into her while yours knead and squeeze the other breast.
Not to deprive said breast of your mouth, of course. You switch over and get more daring, lightly nibbling on her nipples with your teeth. Nien lets out a sharp moan, her fingers pulling on your hair by accident. “Ngghh, sorry!” she keens, massaging the offended spot on your scalp.
You finish up on her tits, giving each a farewell smooch before moving on…back up her body. Those tantalizing pits of hers. Never tried them before, worse times to give them a go.
It is without warning though, catching her off-guard as you nosedive into one.
“Oh! S–Sorry. I wanted to…does it feel bad?”
Nien looks you over in awe before shaking her head. “No, but…give me a heads up next time.”
“Gotcha. My bad.” Now the light is on and green, you get back to it. Dragging your nose along the bumpy, thinly shaven surface, your tongue close in tow. The new sensation overrides her usual restraints, her noises getting louder still.
“Gah! Mm…that—it, weird, but–but good weird. Keep going.”
And you do. Going for her other pit, giving it the same treatment. You weren’t particularly into this at first, just entertaining a curiosity. But it’s better than you thought. Will definitely return on occasion. Or on the regular, who knows?
What you are a regular for is coming up next though, hidden beneath her skirt. You’d prefer keeping them on if they were just open underneath, but alas there are integrated shorts.
You hook your fingers into the waistband and slowly peel them away, catching her panties along with it. At long last, there they are. Pink, swollen, and leaking like a broken tap thanks to your efforts.
“God, we are so fucked if someone walks in here right now,” she laughs breathlessly, peering at the door. Right, you’ve been so lost in her you forgot you’re doing all this in a public space at two in the morning.
“Ha. That’s the thrill of it. They’re welcome to join though, right?”
“Fuck no.” Nien lifts your chin with the toe of her shoe, all of the mischief gone from her eyes. “I’m not sharing you with anybody, you hear me? They should be privileged to watch.”
You swallow, lightly terrified and heavily aroused. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Now eat me out already, thought you said you were famished?”
As true as that is, you don’t go straight for them, oh no. Even the bit of waist previously under her skirt gets attention, every drop of sweat lapped up by your ever so diligent tongue. “I also said you’re a buffet, so I’m enjoying every dish I can.”
About time for the main course. Your mouth works from the outside in, gliding closer and closer to her core. When you reach her outer folds, it’s like she shifts into a higher gear. Her entire body lurches, her back arches sharply, her thick thighs crushing your head.
Nien lets out her loudest moan of the evening yet, her hands scrambling for purchase on the edges of the bench. You have no such problems with how tight she’s locked you in, and you get to work.
And boy, is it worth the wait. It’s hard to exaggerate just how good she tastes as you slurp up her nectar with a dash of sweat. Keeping good health and diets definitely pay off, no matter how small the increments may be. Forget all those sugary sports drinks, you’ll take Nien over them any day of the week.
Feasting on her is barely a figure of speech. You suck, slurp, lick, prod your tongue—just short of actually gnawing on her flesh. But like any human sense, going at it for too long at once might make you numb to it. You can’t have that, can you?
So you do your best to shimmy out of her thighs, letting your fingers fill in for your mouth; they’re like package deals now, you can’t leave the other idle while one is getting action. Though as good as her hot, moist walls clenching around your fingers feel, it doesn’t quite match her flavour on your tongue.
Not to worry. Nien’s desperate babbles give it a run for its money as she unravels above you. Even better are the screams she lets out in between, now fully audible since your ears aren’t muffled. Yes, that’s something that still leaves you awestruck to this day. Just how much of a screamer Nien is once she’s in the zone. If someone outside couldn’t hear her before, they likely can at this point.
“Baby—babe—gnghhh! You—ahh! It…don’t stuh—don’t stop!” Oh, she’s getting close. Won’t be on your fingers though, no way. You pull them out to her dismay, which you pamper by offering said fingers to her. She takes them in straight away, not dissimilar to how you were with her body earlier.
While her mouth is busy upstairs, yours finish the job downstairs. Becoming more erratic, rubbing your whole face all around her slit, tripping breakpoints you didn’t know she had. And with her next scream bit down on your fingers, she shatters.
She was already leaking profusely and still a torrent blasts you in the face, half of it ending up everywhere but your mouth. You remedy that as soon as she loosens her legs enough, lapping up the wet trails down her inner thighs to just above her socks.
Honestly, you want to pull them off and indulge that extra toe-sucking goodness, but your dick’s waited long enough. You make your shorts scarce and kick it away, sharing a momentary soft kiss to let her get a taste and cool down.
Your next green signal? Nien’s hand reaching down to pump you, giggling as she rolls her thumbs on your slit. You groan and scoop her up again, stumbling towards the side of the room.
“You want it like this, babe?” she asks, hugging you tight as her back meets a locker.
“Yeah.” Lining yourself up, you take a deep breath. “Wanted to—ahh…” You slide into her slowly before slamming home, rattling all the lockers behind her. “Wanted to see about that…reserved strength theory.”
“Well, you—” Nien gasps, clutching your hair as you twitch inside her. “You watch yourself, alright? Don’t…force it if–if you can’t…mmhhh.”
“Eh, I'll manage. Trust.”
“Good.”
You thrust with a moderate heft, though at a slightly odd angle compared to usual thanks to your worked out legs. It works out just as well if not better though, rubbing against her entire clit. Soon enough her screams surface again, right next to your ear.
You match the decibels with your hertz, pounding the lights out of her and making an absolute racket of the lockers behind you, what with many of them having open doors. It’s loud and messy and likely breaks a good few laws, but you both are far beyond caring.
Your release starts gathering near the door so you stop, kissing her sloppily as you carry her back to the bench. “I…I wanna—urgh!” Your trembling legs give way at just the right time, planting her back on the stained bench. “I wanna cum on your abs, honey. Want…paint them white.”
Nien snickers, brushing your hair and kissing your nose. “Go ahead, baby. I’m your canvas,” she whispers, spreading her legs so you have room to pull out.
And you’re Bob Ross. Time for your own Liquid White—no, that’s the base. Plenty of that on her abs. You’re looking to get Titanium White on there, yes yes.
You aren’t done with her pussy quite yet though, better it than your hands. Rolling your hips slow and deep; the feeling is all that matters now. It always is, should be as another of her climax is on the horizon, her moans getting thinner.
Your mouth goes to hers so she can shriek into it, which she does seconds later. Her legs curve inwards, slightly trapping you in place. Shouldn’t be much of a problem though, you still have plenty of—
“Oh! Ahh, wait! Honey!”
The earlier tryst against the lockers used up your precious energy, making you burst the moment you start to pull out. Her pussy doesn’t waste a second, its spasms milking your cock. Feeling this, Nien fully wraps her legs around you, pressing you flush with her.
“Thought—mmm…thought you wanted to paint my abs?” she asks, half-chuckling half-moaning.
“It—my…I couldn’t—too much, I guess,” you squeak in response, emptying your last spurts into her. Ah, well. Her pussy’s still your favourite finish line, just wished you’d take a different route this time.
You shiver as you pull out, thick cloudy globules following your exit. You weakly chuckle at the sight, slumping to the floor next to her to catch your breath.
“Looks like you…” she pants, swiping a bit of your cum to taste it. “ …need some more training.”
“Yeah,” you nod, licking your lips. “Wait, you mean next week, right?”
“Of course, I’m not trying to kill you!” She exhales loudly and turns over, chin resting on her elbow. “Next week, core strength. We’ve barely started, baby. You’re gonna be so strong and healthy.”
You chuckle shyly, leaning in to kiss her, brushing aside damp hair. “I’ll trust you fully with this, honey.”
“Mhm! And you gotta believe in yourself, remember that.” Nien groans and sits back up, looking around the now humid, warm space. “Let’s clean up and go home. I’d fancy not being banned from here, it’s really nice.”
“Yeah. There’s no—oh! Wow!” You wobble like an air dancer upon trying to stand up, landing back down on the bench. “Honey, can you drive us home? There’s no way I’m…whoa.”
Nien laughs and sits behind you, giving a quick back massage. “Of course, baby. I was gonna do that anyways,” she coos, pecking your ear.
You let out satisfied sighs at her massage, slowly melting back into her arms. She nuzzles in your shoulder, gently rocking side-to-side.
“Thank you, honey.”
“No problem.”
“No, I mean…thank you.” You open your eyes and face her. “For not giving up on me. For doing everything you could to keep me going. Thank you.”
Nien smiles and kisses your forehead, hugging you. “Of course. We promised, remember?” she whispers, tapping your back softly. “But thank me properly when you can beat me in arms wrestling!”
“Mm…so, never? Heat death of the universe, perhaps?”
She pulls back and glares at you, clicking her tongue. “Babe?”
“I’m kidding! Attitude, belief, yes! I’ll beat you fair and square—heck, I’ll beat you in everything, watch.”
Nien cringes and tilts her head, humming. “Eh…not everything, no way. But I like that! Mind and body gotta work together.”
“For s—” A loud thud in the distance interrupts you. It takes a few to register what it was, but then it’s clear as day. “Shit! The front door. Someone’s actually here!”
You both snicker like hyenas as you scramble to dress up and wipe away any remaining evidence. You barely make it; walking out the door just as the newly arrived patron gets to it. No time to ponder about the look he gave you, you’re free! Frolicking into the night—well, Nien is. You’re hobbling like a zombie behind her, though equally joyous. Leg day turned out a helluva lot better than you expected.
“Really? That sounds good! I hope you get it, you deserve it!” I cheered her, like I always do. She needs it.
“Right!? I knew it! If I get that new model, I’ll bake you millions of cupcakes!” Seeing her smile over something so simple was enough to make my day; her happiness was enough to fill my heart.
I don’t need cupcakes.
I just need Ryujin.
“Ryu, so how’s work?” She started working there a year ago. That's also the time when we chose to live as a couple.
I had already proposed to her once.
She turned me down—not because she didn't love me, but because she wanted us to stand on equal ground first.
"Ask me again next year," she'd told me.
"When I can proudly say I've built something beside you."
“The work? It’s… fine. Just a little overworked these past few days.” She stretched her arms overhead, letting out a relieved sigh; her stiffness these past days says it all about how much hard work she has done.
“You should take a rest.” I pointed my fork at her; she’s making me worried.
“No, it’s fine. We are one, right? I can’t just take a rest while you do all the work.” She parried my utensil with her own.
“Ryu–”
“Babe.” She looks straight into my eyes. “I love you. Now, eat… ahhh.” She pierced a baked tomato and offered it to me. I took it in my mouth, a sign of surrender as well.
I just can’t stop her.
I had to respect her decision.
“Do you know what the date is today?” She said in the middle of our breakfast. She’s shifting glances between me and her plate.
“Wednesday.” I know what she’s trying to point out, but I would like to tease her for the whole day.
“No! I mean… the date.” She shoots a death glare at me; those eyes are not playing, just what I wanted.
“April 27,” I answered, mid-chew, as the apple pie she had made tasted so good I hummed, especially with her baked potatoes.
“Right! So, what’s special?” Her eyes beamed up in anticipation, but sorry to disappoint you, Ryu, I don’t have plans to say it right now.
“Hmm… oh right!” Acting like I remembered something, she isn’t easy to fool, so I hope this will do the trick.
“Right! What is it?” She’s trembling in excitement. I can’t wait to see her tremble in anger instead. Oh, Ryu, I love you so much.
“I have to go! I have a presentation later! I still haven’t finished it yet!” I stood up. I had to go before she trapped me in the corner and forced me to say it.
“H-huh?” She looked puzzled. It worked.
“Bye! I have to go.”
“Wait.” She stood up as well and fixed my collar; it's her habit. No matter how mad she was, she always made sure I was good.
“Thanks!” I kissed her before slipping my shoes on and hurriedly leaving our apartment.
“O-oh, yeah, bye… come home safely!” I heard her last words before I shut the door.
I knew it very well, and I can’t wait to surprise her later.
It’s her birthday, I hope she won’t sulk the whole day. I might fold and regret it.
"I love you, Ryu."
Tonight, I'd finally give her the surprise she'd been waiting for.
The proposal she'd asked me to make one year later.
*****
“I never thought she really thought I forgot.” I smiled ear to ear while reading the messages she left for me.
RYU ♥️ | Me
Hey, did you really forget what’s special today?
Yah! Check the calendar!
I’m busy, I’ll talk to you later.
You always do.
Fine.
I’m still mad at you 😤
I love you!
I love you too.
CHECK THE CALENDAR!
I will! 😆
😠🙂
“She even dropped calling me babe.” I just can’t help reading it all over again.
“Are the reports done?” Ken, my co-worker, tapped on my cubicle, asking for the report that I needed to submit for the day.
“Ah, yes! It’s done. I’ll submit it.” I picked up the folder resting on the top of my table. I actually did it fast; I think it has something to do with how jolly I am at the moment.
“Okay, thanks!” Ken tapped my back, his way of telling me I did a good job.
I did a good job at work, and I also did a great job teasing Ryujin. What a day to be alive!
It’s time to go back to work. I can’t wait to see her face later. I’m trembling in excitement, I can’t hide my joy. I walked together with Ken on the way to our team leader’s office.
“W-w-what’s wrong with you?” Ken stopped and looked at me confusedly.
“Nothing! Let’s go!” I hooked my arms all over him. I can’t blame him; I usually frown during working hours, so seeing me happily working is dubious.
Time ran fast, and it’s already time to go home. The hum of the air conditioning unit, the sounds of the keyboard taps, and the rustling papers around me came to an end. In the lobby, tapping out my employee ID has never been more thrilling, but in fact, I am always excited to go home since someone is waiting for me.
Ryujin’s there.
“Excited as always.” The security guard greets me with his polite smile.
“Yes! Bye! Take care as always!” I passed through him, waving goodbye.
“Take care as well.” He greets me back.
The security had been there for years now, and he witnessed my ups and downs. I bet he can tell whether I’m happy or sad just in my presence.
After a sweet ride on the bus on my way home. I walked straight to the bakery where her favorite cakes are made. The sweet strawberry shortcake that she always had during special occasions.
“Good evening, excuse me.” As soon as I entered the shop, I greeted the woman who I supposed to be the owner. Why? Because she’s the only person who happens to be there whenever we buy something.
“One whole strawberry short cake, please,” I ordered, pointing at the only cake that was left, and fortunately, I made it on time.
“Again? Sure. You two must’ve really loved my strawberry shortcake.” The woman packed it up while I listened carefully to the shop’s surround sound.
“Yes, for real, it’s so good!” Ryujin really loved it, and everything she loves, I cherish.
“Yeah, I can say that. Did you order round 2?”
“Round 2?” I’ve been in the office the whole time. Did someone order before? Is it Ryujin?
“Yes. Your wife bought one earlier.” Ryujin surely did believe that I forgot her birthday. Now I feel bad for tricking her; I should apologize properly later.
“Really? Oh, I guess she really must’ve thought that I really forgot her birthday.” Informing the woman of what was really happening. “Oh, by the way, we’re not married. Yet,” and a little bit of correction.
But it feels nice to hear it.
Ryujin, my wife.
“Thank you!” I walked my way home after that short interaction.
“Wife. That’s nice.” Holding the box of cake with one hand, while the other pulled a smaller box from my coat’s pocket.
“She may have bought her own cake, but I have something more special.” Smiling over a box with a ring on it. The same feeling I had during the first proposal, but this time, she promised to fully accept it.
“...”
How did we end up together? We met during high school. She’s the class president, and I’m the back row president, let’s say quite delinquent. But everything changes when she first talks to me. Is it because she’s an angel and I’m the class devil? She instantly made me weak.
I remember it clearly, our first talk during breaktime.
I still remember the silence during our first coffee date. Thirty whole minutes. Neither of us knew what to say. She kept stirring a coffee she'd already finished. I pretended to read the menu for the fifth time.
The first time we held hands during the rain, we forgot to bring an umbrella during the rainy season.
The first fight we had was just because I refused to review for the upcoming exam.
And…
The first kiss under the afternoon light of a setting sun.
Looking back...
It was perfect.
“Looks like I’ll add another loving memory to my heart binder.” Every moment I had with her is a memory I cherish, but those are special.
“Hmm? Is this one still not finished yet? It’s already dark, and yet they are still working. They must be rushing.” While I’m walking, I came across a building that's been under construction for years now.
When Ryujin and I first moved into the neighborhood, the construction had already begun. Up until now, they’re still at it.
As I took another step, a boy approached the construction site, maybe out of curiosity. Apparently, there are machineries nearby carrying tons of metal tubes.
It’s dangerous.
“Hey! Kid! Don’t go there!” I warned him, yelling at the boy. But it seems like he didn’t hear me, the machine engine is much louder than my voice.
“AH— HEY! LOOK OUT!” The boy finally heard me, but is it too late?
The metal rods slip off the rope, coming from above.
The boy will not make it; the trajectory’s directly to him.
So I run, I’m not a superhero, I’m just a guy who wants to save a life.
“Boy— huh?” Another guy grabbed the boy out. The worst thing that ever happened was that all of us might be in trouble.
CRASH! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
“...”
“...”
“...”
“Oh, God! Thank goodness!” I exclaimed, seeing that all of us are fine. Though the metal rods were scattered all over.
“That would be a disaster— OH!” The box is ruined, and the cake is splattered all over.
“My cake! Oh, men…” As I thought of the ruined cake, “Ryujin bought one, I hope she’ll believe me if I say that I also bought one but ruined it since I played superhero.” I let out a sigh and laughed afterwards.
“Boy, are you okay?” I asked the boy who had just walked away as if nothing had happened.
“Huh? Not even a thank you.” I guess that’s just life. I bet that boy won’t even remember that near-death experience.
“The other guy even disappeared.” I wanted to talk to him a little, but I guessed he’s the real superhero; thanks to him, the kid’s safe.
“I guess I’ll go home— HEY! BE CAREFUL! CLEAN THIS MESS!” I changed my mind, I should give those construction guys a little scolding. “Did they hear me?” I added, but they didn’t seem to hear me since they were all busy running over.
“Right, I’ll go home, Ryujin’s waiting for me.” As I was about to walk out.
“Huh?” The cake’s box is in scarlet, “Maybe the strawberries.” I thought as I walked home after it.
“...”
“What could her reaction be? I guess she’ll be mad, then boom! I’ll propose. But should I hug her first? She actually thought I forgot her birthday. I feel bad tricking her.” A few meters more, and I’ll surprise Ryujin. I can’t help but tremble in excitement.
“Let’s go.”
“God, I knew it was dangerous.”
“I heard someone died.”
“Did an accident happen?” I heard the neighbors whispering, running in the same direction as I passed by. “I never saw one, maybe new,” I added.
I’m finally in front of our unit, and the first thing I noticed was that the door was slightly open.
“Hmm, Ryu must be checking if I’m already close or not.” My lips curled automatically into a smile, knowing how Ryujin always waited for me.
She usually waits at the building’s entrance, in the shed, or on the stairs. She always welcomes me with a hug.
“Huh? The wind?” As I was about to push the door, it automatically opened. Must be the wind.
As I walked in, the light dimmed, and there she was. The cake had a candle on, she really bought her own strawberry shortcake. Now I regret tricking her. She also cooked some dishes, she really prepared for her birthday, but I prepared not food, but a ring.
"Ryu?"
No answer.
She was staring at her phone, her hands trembling slightly. Oh! I forgot to text her that I’m out of the office already.
Looking at the table. The candle is burning, and wax slowly drips down the side. The room is silent.
“Is this her way of surprising me? I should be ready, she might hit me…” I smiled, tiptoeing my way to her.
As I approached, I called her one more time.
“Ryu? Still mad?"
Still nothing, her silence made me laugh awkwardly.
"Ryu?"
She didn't answer.
I scratched my cheek and laughed.
"Come on... I already said I'm sorry."
“Ryu—”
She suddenly stood up, her phone bouncing on the floor as she bolted out the door.
Leaving the birthday cake she really loves.
Leaving the lit candle, dripping, then eventually went out due to the gust she made when she walked out.
Leaving the dinner that she had prepared the whole day for our celebration.
Leaving everything, including me.
Ignoring me as if I wasn’t even there.
“Ryu! HEY!” I followed her outside. She started with a walk and eventually ran.
“RYU! SHOES!” I yelled at her while running, trying to catch her up, but she’s too fast. She’s running barefoot. She was barefoot. The pavement had to be freezing. She didn't even seem to notice.
“Ryu! Where are you going!? Wait for me!” She was still ignoring me; didn’t she hear me?
"Ryu! Hey, carefu—" A cyclist swerved to avoid her. I instinctively raised my arms. The bicycle rushed straight toward me.
“…”
It passed through me. Not around me, it went straight through me. “What the…” I turned around to see that the cyclist never even looked back.
But that’s not my concern.
“Ryu—”
There she was, and she finally stopped running.
Together with the crowd of onlookers. The yellow caution tape that you only saw whenever something bad happened, the ambulance with its sirens waking up the dark streets, and the officers who kept pushing the people away.
“R-Ryu—”
She went into the ocean of people, shoving anyone who’s on her way. The officer tried to stop her, but with only one word from her, he let her in.
“W-wait… this place is…”
The familiar place that I always passed by on my way to and from work. The metal sheet barricades, the machinery, and the metal rods…
I took a small step, then another one, catching up with Ryujin.
There she was, barefoot and now on her knees, staring at the metal rods that had been scattered earlier are being picked up one by one.
“Ryu… don’t kneel there, it’s cold…” I tried to reach for her shoulder, but I… passed through.
“What— t-t-the crushed strawberry cake…” As one of the rods was being taken off, the crushed pastry caught my attention.
“No…” I took a step forward.
The black coat that I bought with my first salary, the same coat Ryujin fixed earlier…
The watch Ryujin gave me during our tenth-month anniversary…
The employee ID that usually hangs off my neck during work…
And a hand…
“No.” Ryujin finally spoke.
I slowly turned around.
“N-no… No…” Ryujin’s eyes have been swelling, endless tears flowing down off her cheeks.
She’s not blinking.
Her face trembled as she shook it repeatedly.
“R-Ryu…”
“Sir, we acquired the CCTV’s nearby and handed over the investigation team.” An officer spoke nearby.
“And… we found this.”
The officer handed over a small box. The burgundy color, the intricate gold mouldings, and the fancy red ribbon decoration.
The burgundy box...
“…”
“No.”
“No.”
“…”
That was supposed to be… my engagement ring.
“W-why…” The last words from Ryujin before she finally let out the tears she was holding in. She screamed through the sudden pain. She yelled with her mourning tears.
“Ryu… sorry… I’m— I’m sorry!”
I broke as well.
Ryujin’s my everything.
Whenever she laughs, I laugh. Whenever she’s mad at something, I’ll be mad.
And whenever she cries, I cry.
“I’m sorry.” All I can say at that moment is sorry.
*****
She smiled so brightly that morning.
If someone had told me it would be the last breakfast we'd share…
I would've called in sick.
I would've held her hand a little longer.
She told me to come home… safely…
If I only knew.
I would’ve… proposed to her sooner.
“...”
“...”
“...”
A rhythmic beeping, are there sounds like this in heaven?
“You do know the only reason you're here right now is because you're hot, right? Nothing more, nothing less.”
He looked at her and smirked.
“And your point being?” he asked, helping her carry her bag as she settled into the seat right by the bar counter.
“You’re lucky,” she smiled, fluttering her eyelashes at him as thanks when he returned her bag.
“I would rather think that it was fate that allowed us to meet,” he said, sitting down beside her. “Peach spritz. How about you, Miss—?”
Telling the bartender his order, he looked at her, palm raised towards her as he asked for both her name and drink.
“Jiwon,” she said, giving you a stare with narrowed eyes before turning to the bartender. “I’ll get the same.”
“Why the look?”
“Because you ordered what I wanted,” she said, leaning a little back to hook one of her smooth, white legs over the other. “And you already know my name, so why the question?”
“Well, firstly, it's what I always drink.”
“You're staring.”
“A little hard not to when you're this hot, Miss Jiwon.”
“Oh, please drop the formalities. They're not needed when you're already undressing me with your eyes.”
“As do you. Hot woman with a hot bod, hot glasses, hot thighs and hot ass? A little hard not to.”
“That sounds like an understatement,” she chuckled softly. “What about the second?”
“Just wanted to know more about the Park Jiwon other than her being the author of my favourite book.”
“You seem really good at flattery, huh?” She blushed and bent forward, fingers gripping her tie to loosen it, tugging it down to reveal the two charms hidden within.
“Flattery skills aside, I’m really good at flipping pages too, you know,” he said, taking the drink from the bartender.
He slid the glass to Jiwon.
“Oh please,” she chuckled and sat back straight, rolling her eyes. “You're a reader. Of course you’ll be good at that.”
“I beg to differ,” he said. “Not all readers are equal, just like how not all women are as beautiful as you.”
She picked up the spritz and gave it a little swirl before sipping, appreciating the fruity sweetness that was accompanied by the familiar burn of alcohol on her tongue.
“So, what do you think of my name? How does it compare to yours?”
“Nice try in asking for mine,” he teased. “But I think mine sounds better.”
He grabbed his drink and downed it in a single gulp.
“And you’ll agree because you’ll only be screaming it later.”
———
“S-Shit—Ethan—fuck don’t stop—”
Her hands grabbed onto his hair, pushing his head deeper between her thighs as he slurped continuously. His tongue continued to flick across her folds, drawing juices out of her already sopping heat.
He lifted his face off after an indefinite amount of time passed from him devouring her pussy.
“How's that?” he smirked, running his fingers playfully around her leaking cavern.
“It feels so fucking good…” Jiwon moaned, her body shivering while her lower lips quivered, as if begging for more kisses. Her arms clung on to the pillow underneath her back which Ethan had considerately tucked, but his kindness was all just a ruse, for he was torturing her vocal chords right now.
“That's two things of my checklist,” Ethan said, sticking his tongue forward for a slow tantalising lick, savouring her sweetness that topped peach fucking spritz or whatever. “I told you I’ll have you screaming my name—”
He stuffed his face right in again, pressing her thighs wide apart. He ran his mouth aggressively across her plump folds, flipping and spreading them like pages.
“—and I told you I’m very skilled at flipping pages.”
Park Jiwon, the famous author, was mewling a cacophony of pure unadulterated lust. But right now, he was the author. One with a tongue that was scribbling the autobiography of his pussy-juicing-adventures across her unfurling scroll of so-called purity which she had boasted earlier of still being a virgin.
He wrote a sloppy question against her clit, but all he got was a reply of slurps and squelches from her pussy — which were unironically because of him as well.
Not that he cared.
“Please Ethan—Ethan, don't fucking stop, I’m—”
He treated her like a dripping inkwell, making sure that there was enough juice producing out from within her walls for him to further his studies at getting a doctorate in seismology.
Why seismology?
Because he was learning how her body quakes. P-waves and S-waves sent through the sex planet named Park Jiwon. Ethan once read in a book that P and S meant Primary and Secondary, but he felt that they were distasteful. He much preferred the Pussy-waves, Pornographic-waves, Squirting-waves, and Sloshing-waves vibrating from his relentless tongue, leaving her tremoring and desperate for more seismic activity between her thighs.
Ethan also once read that tsunamis originate from earthquakes. So he worked harder for his first splash of inspiration, his Eureka moment.
Her pussy clamped down on his invading tongue, squishing out a wet squirt of hot gush, blessing him with his first surging crash. Her spread thighs tried to snap shut from the undulating pleasure, but he forced them apart, mouth greedy for every drop produced solely by the spasming muscles of her cunt.
Gibberish.
Okay, maybe there were some coherent words amongst her orgasm mantra, but they were also mostly something along the lines of etha—omagussh—pleas—ethan—donstap—fucmor—ethannn—.
And that was a testament to his skill of favourite-name-conversion.
When Jiwon had finally calmed down to her buzzing standby mode of prime fuckable status, her legs were vibrating in frequencies that could only be heard by Ethan who was preparing his pen for the next chapter.
“How was it?” he asked.
“…Ethan…” Jiwon gasped breathlessly, her lips oozing a drop of blood where she had bitten herself too hard from the ecstatical pleasure. “I can’t… think.”
Ethan hummed in approval and stood up, placing his hands under Jiwon’s arms.
“You don't need to think tonight,” he said, rubbing the soft flesh of her pits gently with his thumbs, before lifting her slightly into a proper sitting position. “I'm the author.”
He pressed his body forward and took hold of his cock, brushing the tip up and down her swollen folds. They both revelled in the tingling pleasure from the contact, pre-shocks sent up their spine as a promise of the euphoric wonders that would rock their minds.
“I may not be the best at writing—”
He pushed in.
“—but I’ll make you become the star of my best audiobook.”
Her languid moan ripped through the air.
He felt her walls stretch and part, engulfing his length with a force that was tighter than snug.
But this audiobook was in 3rd POV, and so the author can't only focus on himself.
Her mind reeled at the initial penetration, feeling him dilate her most precious secret like it was made to be. She felt him push every inch into her core, filling her cunt to the brim with his diamond hard cock that was hotter than magma.
Once they were fully connected in body, soul, and the slit of his pipe to hers, he began to pump.
Retract and crush.
Ethan began fucking his cock into her, thrusting his hips with a ferocity that scared even himself. He didn't know what went into his mind. The woman in front of him was of such a desirable form — respected yet slutty; beautiful yet whorish; charming yet fuckable.
And so he did what her body begged him to do.
She grabbed onto his idle hands and pressed them to her clothes, guiding him to squish her ample yet masked tits. Her mouth rasped and her eyes begged, unleashing never ending babbling requests for him to fill her over and over again.
“Ethan please, fuck me harder. Fuck me until I cum again. And again. And again. I don't want to stop cumming so please don’t stop.”
He took his cock with his hips and hammered into Jiwon, using her to write moans in the air like an inscription of sex and sex only.
It wasn't enough.
He grabbed her blouse with both hands, ripping them apart with animalistic force. Buttons shot out in diverse directions, but his eyes weren't looking at those. They were looking at the black laced bra covering her nipples. Ethan grabbed the ends of her tie and looped it around his fingers several times, gathering the lengthy fabric as he reeled Jiwon’s tits up towards his mouth.
“Look at me, Jiwon.”
He grabbed her bra with his other free hand and yanked it down, exposing the dark flush that had already bloomed across her areola as her nipples stood top. With a firm squish, he kneaded her breast with his hand, groping it with tenderising force as he kept fucking her. He treated her soft mounds like a stress ball, squeezing as he latched his lips onto hers, kissing her torridly.
“Ethan—fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Jiwon squealed into his mouth, her eyes rolling upwards as he destroyed both her lips. An unfading pressure was building within her, and she ground her hips against him, trying her best to reach the peak.
And she shattered.
Ethan kept slamming into her as she came, feeling her hot juices gush all over his cock. Every pull out released a trickle of liquid, and every plunge pushed her cum out with a squelch. She moaned and thrashed like she was having a seizure, and Ethan pressed down on her body hard, holding her in place as she shook uncontrollably.
The moment her orgasm waned, Ethan pulled out and grabbed her waist, flipping her onto all fours. He ran his hands around her supple butt that was raised high, miniskirt bunched around her waist. Climbing onto the bed, he positioned his angry and throbbing cock behind her, filling her in a single go.
Jiwon moaned loud, her fingers digging into the soft mattress of the hotel’s bed. He leaned forward and pressed his chest onto her back, whispering into her ears.
“I’m going to shake your world.”
He reached for her tie again and held it before straightening himself once more. With a tug, he yanked her upwards like a leashed dog. Even if she wasn't, he fucked her like one. He fucked her pussy like an animal perched on her limbs, and she was just there, taking his cock like she needed it with her life.
Her airway was strangled until she had barely enough space for air to wheeze through, keeping her on the edge of consciousness.
Gone was his rationality.
He grunted in the pleasure of her constricting tightness, letting go of the leash and gripping her ass cheeks. He squeezed the flesh tightly and bounced them up and down, pumping her pussy onto his cock.
She was insane.
Her pussy wrenched his shaft, milking him for all his worth and more, desperate to claim every single drop of his impending cum. He groaned as his hips jerked uncontrollably, pistoning into her without stop.
Jiwon came again.
Sticky, warm juices trickled down her thighs as her pussy convulsed, squeezing so hard that she forced Ethan’s cock out. She kept clenching without stop, expelling a shower of her juices that sprayed onto the sheets like rain.
Ethan didn't care even as Jiwon’s blabbered. He stood up onto the bed and grabbed her hips, pulling her them up. Guiding her forward, he walked her towards the bed’s headboard, pressing her upper torso downwards. With her legs still shaking, he plunged back into her as she stood, fucking into her wanton pussy as her hands scrambled onto any viable support for her fading sanity.
He kept pounding his cock in and out of her, filling both her and the room with nothing but the sounds of her moans, his grunts, the clapping sounds of skin on skin, and the unending sloshing and squelching coming from her pussy.
“Ethan, Ethan, I’m going crazy please, please make me insane—please crush my sanity, my pussy, my everything—”
He answered by lifting one of her legs, placing them on his shoulder. Her legs were spread into a perfect split along the length of his body, giving him full access to every detail of her sopping snatch. He learned every pleasurable rib and bump of her velvety walls as he hammered into her, thrusting hard with quake inducing slams that sent her hands scrambling at anything she could grab.
The wall.
She painted the wall of the hotel room with her sex juices, each sudden jerk of her body from his thrusts smearing handprints that made an art piece that was worthy to be called cute.
“Looks like you're talented to be an artist too,” Ethan grunted, feeling his impending orgasm approaching. He pounded her forward, pushing her towards the wall with every slam. Within five or so claps, her body was pressed flat against the wall, tits squished and pussy smushed.
“Fuck, Ethan—I’m gonna cum again, please, please, please—Ethan please, Ethan—”
“Inside or outside.”
“I don't know—fuck I’m so close—”
“Inside.”
He slammed.
“Or.”
He slammed.
“Outside.”
He didn't slam.
He held his cock outside of her, leaving nothing but the tip inside her begging pussy.
“Fuck please,” Jiwon whined at the loss of pleasure. “Inside, inside, just fuck—”
He slammed back in.
He grabbed her wrists and pulled her tight, pumping into her like a jackhammer.
One, two, three—
Jiwon became undone.
She clamped down on his cock as he pounded her through her orgasm, and that too brought him over the edge. Ethan pumped his white hot seed into her walls, flooding her with his own tsunami of pleasure as his cock pulsated without stop. Her pussy milked him without mercy, unrelenting in its desire to claim every drop of seed as its own.
When both their orgasms had died, they had equally died. Figuratively, of course. Jiwon collapsed onto Ethan, trusting him to catch her, which he did, before he too, fell backwards with her in his embrace. Her hair was splayed over his face which he gently gathered it to the side, and they both lay there, panting at the intense love making they just had.
“I hate you.”
“You don't,” Ethan said, pointing at the streaks of sweat and sex juices all over the wall. “That says otherwise.”
“Fuck you.”
“You just did.”
Jiwon broke into a laughing fit, arm covered over her forehead as she gasped to recover her breath.
“Can't believe I just hooked up with one of my fans.”
Ethan grunted, agreeing with what she said.
“And I too, the great audiobook author, can’t believe I fucked my idol.”
He groaned slightly as Jiwon shifted her thighs, trapping his spent cock around between her thighs, coating it with his cum that was leaking out of her filled cunt.
“The night is still young, self-proclaimed author,” she cooed, turning her to face him. She pressed her nose into his neck, breathing in the praiseworthy effort he gave in tenderising her cunt earlier.
Feeling the warm grip of her thighs and her greed for more, his cock twitched in response, swelling under the thought of getting more of her delicious body. He wrapped his fingers around the contours of her breasts, stimulating the nerves in her.
Already semi-hard, Jiwon grabbed his cock and slid it into her creamed pussy. She propped herself up on both hands, lifting her back off Ethan’s chest, before she began to rotate her hips, grinding herself on him.
Coupled with her moans, Ethan grew impossibly hard inside her pussy, and he gripped her waist tight, digging his fingers in. He raised her body like a trophy and crashed her down on his cock with a hard slam.
Ethan began writing chapter 3, pounding her through the night.
———
“I like you, Jiwon,” Ethan said, sharing a cup of coffee with her at the café at the hotel’s ground level.
“I know, you're one of my fans—”
“Not in that way. I like you as a potential partner.”
“I also know that,” Jiwon said, slicing a piece of hash brown into bite size. “But I don't think we're suited for each other.”
“What makes you say that?” Ethan asked.
“Well, for one, we both live miles apart,” Jiwon explained, humming softly as she tried to think of more excuses. “And I think with my job as an author, I wouldn't make a good partner.”
“Don't you think us meeting is because of fate?” Ethan asked.
“Fate, huh?” Jiwon chuckled, finishing up her breakfast. “I don’t really believe in it. Shouldn't you know me by now? None of the works I write are fantastical.”
“Really? I would seem to remember you lamenting about how you would never find someone who was at least intriguing enough, and also good-looking, hot, charismatic, and all that would ever wanted, which is why you remained a virgin until last night.”
Jiwon rolled her eyes and gulped her ice americano.
“Correction,” she said. “You sweet talked me.”
Ethan gave her a ‘you're seriously saying that?’ look.
“You do realise that what you have said meant the same as what I said right?”
“No? You implied my words,” Jiwon said, before giving a brief ponder. “Wait. I did mean that… Then I’ll change my statement and claim that I was tipsy from the alcohol and was not right in the head.”
Ethan leaned forward and stuck out his tongue, licking his lips in a provocative manner.
“You literally only drank two sips of a low-alcoholic drink. Plus, you were the one who begged me to show you what I can do. Come on Jiwon, give us a chance?”
“Maybe,” she said. “Anyway, I have to leave. My flight is in three hours. I’ll have to head to the airport.”
Jiwon stood up and grabbed her suitcase, waiting for Ethan before they left the café. They walked down the street and he tried to help her flag for a taxi.
“You're really not even going to leave me a number or anything?” Ethan asked.
Jiwon set her bag on top of her luggage and looked at him.
“Do you really not find me the least bit attractive or desirable enough to qualify as a potential relationship candidate?”
“I do, but I don't want to jeopardise my career or anything.”
She looked at him again, her eyes softening for a moment as she thought about the amazing time she had last night.
“I’ll give you a chance then,” Jiwon said. “Ask me a single question, and I’ll determine what to do.”
“You have ten seconds,” she said, and without waiting for his acknowledgement, she began counting down. “Ten.”
Ethan looked at her, a million thoughts running through his mind as he picked for the right question to ask.
“Two.”
“One and a half. One and one quarter. Are you not going to ask? Otherwise I'm going to—”
“Are you from Busan?”
She looked at him with narrowed eyes.
“You stalked me?”
“What? No! I came from Busan, that's why,” Ethan tried to explain. “If you’re from Busan too, then we're closer than expected. I flew all the way out here for your fan sign, won a lucky draw to have a dinner date with you, drank with you, fucked you, ate breakfast with you, and even have the same hometown as you. If that isn't fate, what is?”
“You really trust fate, huh?”
“C'mon please Jiwon. I really like you and I want to have a chance with you.”
“I have to go,” she said, the taxi which she had flagged coming to a stop beside her.
“Jiwon. One chance.”
“Then let's do it this way.”
She gestured for the taxi driver to wait for a minute and reached into her bag. She took out a book and passed it to Ethan.
Ethan took it from her, confused, but a permanent marker was stuffed into his hand. The philosophical book was exactly like he remembered — entirely white with the title Overmorrow printed in red Trajan font in the centre, and nothing else except for her name written in the same font at the bottom.
“Write down your exact address at the back of the book.”
He gave her a puzzled look, asking why, but he opened the book and did it anyway, thinking that she wanted his address. When he’s done, he gave it back to Jiwon.
She scribbled something on the same page as where Ethan wrote something and showed it to him.
“Let's put that trust in fate of yours to the test,” Jiwon said. “I’ve written my address here as well. Plus, I've drawn a heart shape.”
She snapped the book shut before he could catch a glimpse of her personal information. She took the marker and drew exaggerated arcs across the white cover, signing her autograph on it.
Then she opened the taxi’s door and carried her suitcase into the back seat before getting in herself. She leaned forward and passed the book to the driver.
“Sorry for the wait mister. Here's something to make up for your lost time.”
He took the book from her, confused and irritated, but as her saw her face, his expression turned into a surprised one.
“Aren't you that woman I saw on television yesterday? That Pak Jeewan or what?”
“Park Jiwon,” she chuckled. “That book is one of my best sellers. You can sell it at a second hand shop. It has my autograph as well, so you can get quite a high price for it.”
When she said that, he turned excited and stuffed the book into the empty compartment on his door without second thought.
“That'll work. Where to, miss?”
“Give me one more minute.”
“Sure, sure,” the driver said, his attitude a total opposite from seconds ago. “Take as long as you want.”
Jiwon poked her head out of car’s window that was wound down and poked her head out.
“Try and look for that book after this mister sells it. If you really believe in our entwined fates, then you should be able to find it.”
Ethan opened his mouth to protest, but Jiwon gave him an apologetic smile, before turning back to the driver.
“Incheon Airport please. Terminal 1.”
She wound up the window and the taxi roared to life, driving off and leaving Ethan behind in the dust.
He stood there, looking at the tire marks left on the asphalt, watching them as if they were the last clue to her whereabouts.
———
“Bro, you available for dinner tonight?”
Ethan didn't even look up from his computer, eyes hyper focused on the topology of the two converging plates that he was analysing.
“Not really. I have plans.”
“You can't lie to me, you douchebag,” his colleague said. “You’ve been rejecting me ever since you’ve attended that stupid fan meet.”
He grabbed on to Ethan’s chair and pulled him off his computer, twirling the chair around till he faced him.
“Look at me. Who am I?”
“Uhh… Trevor?”
“Great. You remember me. Are you going to another stupid bookstore again?”
Ethan gave a small nod.
“I am, and what are you going to do about it?”
“Come on, Ethan,” Trevor dragged his chair over from the side and slumped into it. “What are even the odds of finding that book? There's like what, thousands of secondhand bookstores in Seoul alone. What makes you think you can find the book?”
Trevor sat forward and grabbed the cushion from behind him, throwing it at Ethan. Ethan, who was lost in his thoughts couldn't catch it in time, and he was struck squarely in his chest.
“And you yourself should know that book is super popular. It would be bought the instant the shop opens.”
“I know, but…” Ethan mumbled.
“And what if the taxi driver doesn't even sell it?”
“Trevor.”
“What?”
“Can you not drench me in cold water?”
“Fuck you!” Trevor exclaimed. “I’m trying to get you to your senses! Be realistic, my guy. There are many better women out there.”
“Okay, that's going too far. She's perfect, so don't you diss her.”
“Okay, okay…” Trevor raised his hands in defeat. “But can you please get a life? It's been what, two months, and you've literally spent every night visiting a different bookstore. Even if you don't find it in the first one, what makes you think that the first one you searched doesn't have it the next day when you visit another store?”
“Trevor.”
“What?”
“You yap a lot.”
“Fuck you,” Trevor cursed. “So, drinks tonight? It's Friday night after all.”
Ethan sighed and twirled around in is office chair, spinning himself round and round as he tried to jumbled his already messed up mind, thinking that mixing chaos with chaos would unravel the spaghetti’d thoughts in his head.
“Fine. But I still wanna go to the bookstore. Then I’ll join you for a drink.”
“That's the Ethan I know,” Trevor whistled, standing up with a triumphant pose of victory, as if he was praising the Sun. “You better not give me another stupid excuse later, or I’ll break into your house and steal your coffee machine.”
“That costed five thousand, you lil’ shit,” Ethan grunted, giving Trevor a judgemental stare.
“I don't care. If you're not joining, I'm gonna send the video of how you vomited all over the floor when you got drun—”
“Okay okay, sheesh. I got it. I’m not going to escape when 6 p.m. strikes and I’m going to sit here and wait for you to fetch me.”
“Don't be an asshole, Ethan,” Trevor rolled his eyes. “It’s 6 in like two minutes.”
“Which is why I said that. I’m driving my point that I'm not gonna go back on my words, idiot. C'mon, let's go.”
———
“Miss Park, would you like to introduce your book the audience?”
Jiwon took the microphone from the small table beside her. She was sitting on a beanbag that was placed slightly off centre on the mini stage erected in the middle of a shopping complex. She looked at the interviewer and raised the mic, giving it a small hum before speaking.
“Of course, first of all, I would like to thank you for inviting me here, as well as all of you lovely readers and fans of mine that have made the effort to attend this session.”
She took the white book that was resting on her thighs and propped it up on her knees, holding it out for the audience to see.
“I am the author of the book Overmorrow, and this book is a collection of philosophical essays and short stories that explores humanity’s habit beyond postponing.”
The interviewer listened attentively, asking Jiwon questions that engaged both her and the audiences.
“What do you mean by beyond postponing? Perhaps you may want to explain why you chose the title for your book?”
Jiwon smiled and nodded, eyes lit up in excitement as she quipped her answer.
“I would assume that everyone is familiar with the word tomorrow. It's something that we always use in many, many different situations, like when we don't have time to do the laundry after a long day at work, so we tell ourselves that we'll do it tomorrow. Some people call it procrastination, but I would like to call it self-care and purposeful time management. No one is exempted from that, not even me, of course. Even I would sometimes tell myself to leave eaten cup noodles with soup left in them on the table, saying that I’ll throw them tomorrow.”
She gave a brief pause.
“Until the day after tomorrow arrives and you discover you've created three new problems.”
Soft laughter bursted from the people seated below the stage, their own version of tomorrows appearing in their heads.
“However, my book is about overmorrow. It's not a commonly used word, but I’m sure many of you are familiar with it's meaning.”
“It means the day after tomorrow, right?” The interviewer asked with a smile. “I did my research, by reading the book, of course.”
Jiwon giggled bubbly.
“Thank you for your support,” Jiwon said, offering a small exaggerated half bow. “That’s right, overmorrow means the day after tomorrow. The book I’ve written explores many different scenarios and reasons as to why we push things to the next day, but it heavily focuses on how it affects the day after. It can be a direct effect, for instance, using the laundry example earlier, if I push the washing of clothes to tomorrow, what are the chances of that laundry not being done and the pile of dirty linen growing larger and larger? I would say it’s at least 90%.”
Small nods and hums of agreement sounded throughout the audience.
“But there are also indirect and unconscious effects, for example, future sight or precognition,” Jiwon said, raising two of her fingers on each of her hands and curling them down quickly as she spoke the last three keywords.
“Future sight and precognition?” the interviewer questioned quizzically.
“Well not exactly that. It's moreso on when you push something to tomorrow, you tend to unconsciously think about what comes the day after, be it planning, or anticipation,” Jiwon explained. “So in a sense, you gain the ability to see what happens in the future. Perhaps directing your own life would be a more accurate representation.”
“Hmm, it's sort of like manipulating fate, right?” the interviewer asked.
Jiwon’s face froze for a moment.
“Fate… W-well you could put it that way.”
She quickly composed herself and continued on with the interview, but her mind kept wandering off to the word fate.
When the public interview event ended, Jiwon was sitting in a café nearby, drinking a cup of iced americano. She was somehow having the same thing as what she ate that morning after she met him, slicing a hash brown into bite size.
Her eyes drifted to the stack of ten or so books on the table in front of her plate. They were all white with her name and Overmorrow printed in the same red trajan font, but they were un-autographed. She finished up her breakfast and pushed the plate aside, dragging the stack of books towards herself.
She took the one on top, placing it right in front of her. A marker already in her hand, she weaved her hand across the cover, painting the mark of her presence on the book.
The first one was done.
She repeated the same motions eight more times, before she settled on the last book.
She signed it. Done. Retrieving a empty tote bag from her bag, she packed the signed books in, stacking them carefully. They were all meant to be gifts for her close friends which she would be meeting later.
She took the last book.
But before she placed it in the bag, she opened it, turning to the familiar page. Familiar in the sense that it was where she had written her address below Ethan’s and drew a heart.
The same Ethan who she had met four months ago.
She closed it and packed it all up.
She took her phone and unlocked it, scrolling through the list of contacts she had saved.
Taxi Driver Uncle
She had gotten his number before she alighted the taxi for her flight that fated morning.
Her thumb hovered over the call button, inching towards it.
Then she lifted it and closed everything, pocketing her phone after locking it.
Maybe tomorrow.
———
“Have you even read the book?” Sophia asked.
“Is that even a question?” Ethan said, walking into the library.
“How would I know? I mean, I know you're a huge fan of the author, but I didn't know you were that big of a fan.”
“I like her.”
“Like as a person, or as a writer?”
“As a lover.”
“Crazy bastard.”
Ethan stopped in his steps and turned to look at Sophia.
“Look, if you're not going to help, I would much prefer if you left. I've been doing this for close to a year already, and I am not going to stop.”
He huffed in irritation and walked away, heading to the library’s search terminal. Sophia groaned in defeat and clambered after him, spewing an unending amount of half-baked apologies mixed with motivational quotes hoping that he would wake up from his delusion.
“Damn… five out of six copies borrowed?” Sophia said, peering at the monitor as Ethan searched. “How the hell is the book so popular?”
“Did you think I would choose any random person for my partner?”
“I mean, yes? What would she even see in you? The only thing good about you is that you are smart, and you earn a lot.”
“That sounds plural to me, Miss Sophia,” Ethan said, walking towards the section where the last of six books were shelved.
“Oh come on, do you have to flex your intelligence?”
“It's called being factual.”
Ethan turned into a corner and looked for the shelf labelled with initials starting with Jiwon’s name. He found it instantly. It was intuitive to him at this point. After all, looking for the book had been his daily ritual ever since he watched the taxi drive off.
He pulled it out.
His heart dropped. The cover was unsigned, but he still flipped the book open, hoping that what he was looking for would magically be there. However, the book was clean. Well, not ‘clean’ in the sense where it was spotless. It had a surprising amount of writing and notes scribbled throughout the entire book, and it showed that the previous owner had read and analysed the book thoroughly before donating it to the library.
“How’s it?”
Ethan shook his head.
“Is the book really that good?” Sophia asked.
“It is,” Ethan said. “There's a reason why it's my favourite after all. I really liked how she wrote about how our lives are predetermined by our own actions to a certain extent, and how minute things such as telling someone a simple ‘wait’ can deeply affect our future.”
“I did not understand any of that.”
“Then perhaps you should give the book a try? It's written in a way where it’s a collection of short stories that are no longer than five pages each, and each one is easily understandable since they're framed to be very relatable.”
Sophia looked at Ethan, giving him an incredulous look.
“What?” Ethan asked.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Sophia said, turning to press her head on the bookshelf’s wood. “I was tasked by Trevor to follow and convince you to stop thinking about her, but somehow I am the one being convinced right now.”
Ethan shrugged and handed Sophia the book, stuffing it into her hand.
“Read it. Trust me.”
He turned and walked off.
Sophia sighed and ran after him, but in her hands were now Overmorrow.
“Where to now?” she called out to Ethan.
“There's… three more libraries I want to visit for today,” Ethan replied. “You still coming with me?”
“Of course! But let me borrow this first, okay?”
“Sure.”
Ethan followed her to the loaning terminal and watched her as she placed the white book on the sensor. The screen lit up and the small picture of the book along with its titled appeared.
His mind wandered.
He wondered if it was truly considered fate if he was actively searching for the book. He thought if he should stop looking for it and hope to coincidentally find the book one day.
Maybe tomorrow.
———
“I’ll get a martini, you?”
She fiddled with her marker in her hand, twirling it around her thumb.
“Hey.”
She twirled the marker another round. And another.
“Jiwon!”
The marker fell out of her grip, dropping onto the bar’s countertop with a soft clatter.
“Yea. Peach spritz, please. Thank you.”
“What's on your mind? I’ve barely gotten the chance to meet you and now that you’ve finally squeezed some time, you're ignoring me, the one who you claim to be your best friend?”
Jiwon looked at her and gave an awkward apologetic half-smile.
“I’m sorry.”
“Woah, woah, woah. Hold up. The famous Park Jiwon is apologising to me?”
“Lauren. Please.”
Jiwon rolled her eyes and picked up the marker again. This time, she played with the cap, soft clicks filling the air as she opened and closed the marker without stop.
“So, have you started on your next book?” Lauren asked, before thanking the bartender who slid a glass of martini to her.
“Not yet, I’m stuck,” Jiwon said. “I don't have any inspirations these days.”
She pulled her glass of peach spritz and gave it a little swirl, bringing it up to her nose. She gave it a little whiff and placed her luscious lips on the glass’s edge, giving it a sip.
“Huh…” Lauren hummed, giving Jiwon a judgemental look. “You’ve never faced this issue before. Whatever has happened to my cute and bubbly Jiwon?”
“I don't know,” Jiwon said. “It's just, I don't feel excited about anything anymore. It's like something's missing.”
“Missing? In what way?”
Jiwon picked up her marker again, playing with the cap once again. She opened and closed the marker as time passed, making the clicks sound faster and faster, watching the drops of condensation on her glass of spritz flow down, coalescing with other drops into a larger one. Numerous drops streamed down the glass, forming minute vertical rivers before pooling down at the base of the glass.
“I feel… empty.”
Lauren looked at her friend and shook her head, giving her a pat on the shoulder.
“You're still thinking about him, aren't you.”
“What!? No!” Jiwon exclaimed. “I’m just stuck at the brainsto—”
“Park Jiwon,” Lauren said. “I’ve known you ever since we were kids. I basically know you in and out. I even know what kind of lingerie you like to wear, so stop lying to yourself already.”
“Edan or whatever his name is—”
“Ethan,” Jiwon interjected.
“—Right. Ethan. He must have been someone that had struck you so dearly that made you like this. You, my dear friend, are in love with him.”
“…”
Jiwon gave her a beat of silence, before taking another sip of her spritz.
“Do you know, this was his favourite drink as well?”
“Why the hell would I know?” Lauren laughed. “Well, now I know. And I know that you, you are a person who never remembers anything that don't strike an impression, good or bad.”
Lauren rested her cheek on her fist that was propped on the bar counter.
“And your expression tells me that it's not bad. It's good. Maybe even gooder than good. The best. The most charming man you've ever met so far.”
“I know.”
“Then?”
“What do you mean then?”
“Then you’re not going to contact him?”
“I don't have his contact.”
“What do you mean you don't have his contact? You didn't get the number of the man who managed to shake your world?”
Jiwon gave Lauren an awkward laugh and mumbled.
“It’s a long story, but I kinda softlocked myself.”
Lauren gave her a puzzled look.
“Tell me.”
“So basically, the tldr is,” Jiwon said with a sigh. “I got him to write his address on my book, which I wrote mine beside it after that. Then I signed on it, gave it to a taxi driver and asked him to do whatever he wanted with it.”
“Wow,” Lauren whistled. “Why?”
“Honestly? I don't know. You know how my book talks about predetermined fate as something that is predetermined by us?”
“Uh huh?”
“I basically wanted to test fate.”
“You're an idiot. You finally found someone you like, and you decide to do one of your stupid tests.”
“Yeah…”
"Congratulations."
"On what?"
"You've managed to turn a one-night stand into a year-long existential crisis,” Lauren said. “Idiot. Baka. Stupid.”
“Alright, alright!” Jiwon cried. “I'm stupid. Stop scolding me already.”
She looked at her peach spritz.
“I really was an idiot,” she mumbled, taking out her phone, looking at the time.
11.48 p.m.
I’ll call tomorrow.
———
“How do I look?” Ethan asked, adjusting his tie.
“Smart enough,” Trevor said. “C'mon you’re already plenty handsome. What are you trying to do? Charm all the unwed ladies in the wedding hall?”
“Can you not spout bullshit?” Sophia said. “Today is his big day and you're joking around?”
“Can you not be so uptight?” Trevor said, rolling his eyes.
“Uptight? Trevor Kang Sujae! You had better consider your words carefully from now on, or you’ll be sleeping outside tonight.”
Trevor shook his head and sighed, muttering under his breath, before whispering into Ethan’s ear.
“Marriage life can be really scary, y’know. I think you should reevaluate your choices.”
“That's it. You're on the couch tonight”
Ethan left the two to their argument and took his suit jacket from the clothes stand. He swung it around his back and slid his arms in, before fastening the cufflinks around his wrists and knobbing the buttons.
He took a last look in the mirror, appreciating how smart he looked.
He was ready.
———
People rarely postpone what they do not care about. We postpone only the things that matter enough to frighten us.
— Overmorrow, Chapter 7
Bzzzzz.
“Hi.”
“Who is this on the line?”
“Is this taxi driver uncle?”
“Yes? I mean, I’m a taxi driver, but do I know you?”
“Err… it's kinda hard to say.”
“Are you a scam caller?”
“Wait, what?! No! I’m Park Jiwon, you know, the author of Overmorrow?”
“Pak Jeewan? I don't know any Pak Jeewan. You're a scammer. I’m hanging—”
“No!!! Wait! You remember the book I gave you? The white one?”
“Please don't hang up, please?”
“Heh, I’m joking with you.”“So… you're looking for the book?”
“Yeah. You still have it?”
“I have it.”
“Goodby—wait, you have it?”
“Well I mean, I sold it, but I did copy down what you idiots wrote on a notepad, because I knew you would call me one day.”“You asked me for my number after all.”“Here I thought that my old ass was charming enough to have a beautiful lady like you to be interested in me, but it turns out I was just a convenient storage box.”
“Uncle! Really?! You have it?!”
“Yes, yes. I’ll give it to you now.”“You young people are sometimes so stupid. Love is such a fleeting thing, and how could you have thrown away such an fateful encounter?”
Jiwon looked at the paper in her hands. She could barely stabilise her own trembling, and the paper shook as she looked at it.
Ethan lived just a district away away from her.
How have I not met him before? He was so close, yet so far…
She grabbed her bag and ran out of the in nothing but her pajamas and a pair of flip flops, calling for a cab. Reading the address to the taxi driver in a firm voice that carried a subtle excitement, the vehicle zoomed off.
She looked at the book in her bag. It wasn't the one where they had written their addresses in, but she hoped that it would be their point of connection from now onwards.
Fate or whatever, I'm going to weave my own fate.
The taxi drove off. She looked up at the apartment complex and entered the building, heading up to the eleventh floor.
“11-03… 11-04… 11-05… here it is.”
She pressed the doorbell.
No response.
She pressed it again.
The black mahogany door remained still.
She pressed it over and over again, spamming the doorbell like her life depended on it.
“Young miss, what are you doing?” An old woman said, coming out from the unit beside Ethan’s. “If you're looking for Ethan, he had already left early in the wee hours of the morning.”
“Where did he go?” Jiwon asked. “I’m his friend.”
“Huh? Then you should hurry. He's already at the wedding.”
“W-Wedding?” Jiwon asked, her heart dropping to the centre of the Earth upon hearing the word. “Where is it?”
“At the nearby church. You should hurry if you don't want to miss him.”
Jiwon turned her head and ran, not even bothering to offer her thanks to the elderly woman.
“Young people these days…” the old woman sighed and shook her head, heading back into her house.
“Fuck!” Jiwon cursed, flagging for another taxi. “He's getting married?! Fuck fuck fuck! I shouldn't have done such a stupid thing.”
A taxi arrived and stopped, and she got inside in a flash, slamming the door shut. Muttering the address of the church and saying that she needed to get there as quick as possible, the taxi driver slammed his foot on the accelerator and the vehicle blasted off.
“Should I go? What do I even do if I see him? He's getting married today… fuck it. I’ll just show up. The goalpost is still wide open until the marriage ends.”
She arrived at the church in less than five minutes and rushed into the building.
The place was already mostly empty.
Most guests had left, and what remained were staff clearing flowers that had scattered all over the floor. Someone else was carrying a wedding portrait away.
Jiwon looked around desperately, trying to find any trace of him, but there was nothing.
“I was too late…” she mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. “I wasn't late today. I was late for the past two years.”
She crouched down and started crying.
“Why was I such an idiot…”
Tears flowed without stop as sobs broke out of her heart uncontrollably.
“Trevor! Wait for me!”
Jiwon’s ears pricked up.
Her head snapped upwards and looked at the man that had just walked past her.
“Ethan?”
“Yes?”
He turned around and looked at the woman crying on the ground.
“Jiwon?”
They both froze at their spots, looking at each other.
“Ethan, is that really you?”
He knelt down and looked at her.
“Jiwon. I can't believe it's you.”
“Y-yeah,” Jiwon said between sniffles. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“What for? Why are you even here anyway?”
“Isn't it your wedding?”
“What? No?! This is one of my best friend's wedding. I’m just here as a best man. You haven't answered me, why are you even here?”
Jiwon just looked at him blankly, crying even louder. Then—
She lurched forward and lunged into his arms.
“I missed you.”
Trevor looked at the two from the side, shaking his head with a warm smile.
“I missed you too. I never stopped looking, you know?”
Jiwon dug her face into his chest and sobbed softly.
“And I never stopped thinking about you. I was dumb and stupid back then.”
“It doesn't matter,” Ethan said. “We found each other.”
Ethan helped her up, walking to a bench outside the church. Trevor waved him off and gave a thumbs up, before walking away with Sophia.
Jiwon pushed herself away from Ethan and looked at him with her glassy eyes.
“You know when you asked me for my name when we had our spritz drinks in the bar?”
“I never forgot.”
“I have another name. Megan.”
“That's a pretty name for a lady as pretty as you, even if you're ugly crying.”
She slapped him lightly on his shoulder.
“You're still such a charmer,” she laughed.
“I’ve never stopped looking, you know? Secondhand bookstores, libraries, friends, acquaintances. I kept looking around, revisiting each and every shop and place, hoping that I would find the book one day.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
“So…”
“Hmm?” Ethan raised his eyebrows.
“What do you think of both my names? How does it compare to yours?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?”
“Yes. I’m going to change your favourite name.”
She grabbed on to his face and pressed her lips forward, capturing his in a desperate, greedy kiss. After long seconds, she pulled off and pressed her forehead to his, whispering hotly into his lips.
“Tonight, I’ll make you scream my name without stop.”
Note: umm...@kwilquib @erospandemos @leafostuff have fun XD
(2.9k words)
Are you a weirdo if you keep looking through the window across the street to see Gyubin constantly? Especially today?
Don't think so. It's not like you're waiting for her, that's weird. You're just…checking outside. Every ten minutes…no, five…ok fine, you do check constantly.
In your defense, your bedroom window faces directly to her bedroom window, which means every time you look up from your book, your eyes naturally drift toward the house opposite yours.Excuses including the giggles across the street, the little waves she gives whenever you two make eye contact, sometimes the huge teddy bear she always dived to whenever she had a bad day (accompanied by her legs kicking vigorously).
For today, it's the dress.
Her bedroom light illuminates, and your mind brings you to a stage with her as the main actress in the spotlight. She smooths the front of her white dress, twirls left and right, clearly inspecting herself. The dress isn't over the top at all, but damn, doesn't it suit her unfairly well. Very elegant, very simple, very demure. Such a serendipitous event, you tell yourself.
Alright, gotta duck behind the curta— oops, too late. She caught you already, waving her hands excitedly while immediately breaking into that familiar grin.
You could only wave back.
Words are impossible from this distance (unless you two shout), since her bedroom and yours face each other across a suburban street that's wide enough for the world to witness the embarrassment of shouting if that is happening.
Languages formed. It started years ago since she first moved to this neighbourhood with her family — A wave is hi, holding up food is I'm eating, tapping your wrist means you're late, middle finger is middle finger. (It's only that one time, come on. Don't be nosy.)
Back to the present, the main girl presses both palms against the window dramatically (you wonder if the sound reaches you first, or the glasses break first). She gives you a spin, the dress twirls naturally once again. She points at herself and raises her eyebrows.
Well?
You give her two thumbs up. A girl looks pretty, and she deserves all the praises.
Of course, the main actress gasps theatrically and places both hands over her heart like she won a Grammy. And, oh my god, she bows. This idiot (it does give you a chuckle, though. You always do.)
Her bedroom door opens behind her. Her mother appears and says something to her, Gyubin nods back. The girl grabs a small purse off the bed and about to walk out of the room. But she glances back toward your window one last time.
She points at herself, then mimics walking as she points down the street.
Ah, it's prom night. Right.
You give her another thumbs up, which prompts a smile in her. Did you know that she has a cute smile? You know what's cuter? Gyubin forms a tiny finger heart and you make out back (well, awkwardly.)
Satisfied, she disappears from the room, and the bedroom light switches off.
You continue standing there long after she is gone. "…Lucky bastard."
-
Now, Gyubin is pretty.
Funny and friendly, too. Teachers adore her a lot, she is a model student after all. The old ladies at the restaurants you two walk by remember her as "the pretty lass", and heck, cats and birds sometimes gather around her like she just stepped out of a Disney movie.
It is, with high probability, that she'd have someone. Just that you didn't think it'd bother you this much. Tsk, whatever. Good for her, definitely, but prom is such a pain to go. Dress up for a night surrounded by fellow teens and foods that clearly don't fill you up as much as a bowl of ramen.
Are you projecting? Perchance. You don't care at all. Not even once.
Except the fact that you have mumbled that same phrase around forty seven times while trying to finish one chapter. The forty eighth was while making tea. And the forty ninth while rereading that same paragraph again since your brain is oh-so-busy with the lucky bastard who's going with Gyubin instead of the book.
Fucking hell, the words all blur together now. What can you do, really, except to just slip the bookmark between the pages and close the book. Ugh, quite a waste of money buying that suit hanging on the wardrobe right there huh.
Half an hour later, you're downstairs helping Mum wash the dishes, because it certainly beats sulking in your room with the suit right there. Ok, helping sounds generous, because you have been drying the same plate for the fourth time while keeping glancing at the front window.
"You alright, love?”
"Hm?" "You've been polishing that plate for five minutes."
"Oh. Oops."
Mum chuckles. "She's leaving soon? The neighbour girl?"
"Yeah."
"Prom?"
She hums knowingly when you nod. Man, parents truly are omnipotent.
Ding dong!
Oh? We don't expect any visitors though? Both Mum and you look toward the hallway.
"You mind getting that? "Ok."
Not many thoughts are on your mind, it could've been random people asking for directions, or a delivery you forgot that you have ordered. Yeah, who cares about the peephole, you can just tell them we're busy.
Oh boy, the door opens, and your brain completely stops working.
Gyubin on your doorstep, with that same white dress, the evening sky behind her looks dull. Wow, now that you are closer to her, her hair is done so neatly, there are these small silver earrings with intricate engravings. One hand behind her back, and the other is clutching a tiny paper gift bag.
Huh. Well this is something.
"Hi" Gosh, even her voice is pretty, this is so unfair.
"Hey there, yourself. Didn't your date already—"
"He cancelled."
"Huh?" "Food poisoning…or he said."
"Today?" "Mhm."
To clarify, your brain is still trying to catch up with the situation itself. Prom is like an hour away from happening, and the date that is supposed to be with her is away due to unfortunate circumstances. The back of your mind suddenly flashes the suit hanging in your room, your hand fidgeting in your pocket, your mouth feels dry.
Oddly enough, your eyes fixated on her heels rocking slightly. Is she…no way, right?
"So. I have another plan…" She pulls her hand forward, revealing a small white box. And inside is a blue boutonnière. Oh. Oh my god. Is this a dream? You need someone to smack you to reality right now.
"Gyubin…?"
"Well, I figured…if my original date couldn't come, I should probably ask the person I would love to go with, don't you think?"
"Yeah…yeah that makes sense."
No it is not. Your heartbeat is thumping like a drum. Your thoughts are going haywire. Who knows what the rhythm of your breathing is anymore. Did she actually say that YOU are the one she actually wants to go with? Gyubin, you can't just do this! Oh, and don't worry, it amplifies when she takes the boutonnière out of the box and holds it towards you.
"Well…wanna save me from being the girl who showed up alone?"
All the conversations through the windows, all the waves every morning, moments where you tag by her house and vice versa, nights of hand signs you two give each other, and every second of trying to be nonchalant and pretending nothing was there.
They all make your hand gently take the boutonnière from her. "I should…change first."
"Does that mean yes?"
"Well…you'd look pretty weird standing next to someone wearing sweatpants."
She has these cute blushes on her cheeks that make you just want to squeeze it. "That's…true."
"Yeah…"
The evening breeze drifts between the two houses you've spent years silently communicating across, and somehow standing two feet apart is infinitely more awkward than yelling hand gestures through bedroom windows. Heck, any pair of birds flying by probably cringe and drop to the ground looking at you two.
Your brain, meanwhile, has completely blue-screened. Just say something already, anything to compliment her, she looks so pretty under the downlight, come on!
"You look…different."
Fantastic. Ballistic. Give it up for the worst compliment ever.
"…Different…?" "I meant—I mean, you barely wear dresses, so…"
"Well, you're right." "Damn it, I sound weird."
"Indeed." At least a tiny laugh escapes from her. "You're not this hopeless, mister."
You are very hopeless for Gyubin, especially now. Damn it. Staying cool around Gyubin is very much an impossible task. One cute laugh from her and everything melts.
"Ahem. Well… I should probably get changed." "Of course."
"The suit isn't exactly going to walk downstairs by itself." "You don't know that."
"What do you mean?" "It can just fly down like Doctor Strange's cape, who knows?"
It should be said that it takes every single nerve inside you to not break down in laughter at an admittedly pretty lame joke. Her humour really hits the right spot.
"Give me ten minutes." "Take your time."
"I won't." "Oh you will."
You roll your eyes and begin stepping back inside, one foot crosses the doorway. Then, you feel your hand being tugged back, followed by warm fingers wrap gently around yours.
"Hm?"
You look back at her.
Gyubin hasn't moved, still standing in the same spot and holding your hand. And her face? Trying so hard not to laugh, the tiny grin keeps twitching wider. What is she up to now? Her head tilts innocently too, like a naïve deer in the abyss.
"I almost forgot." "About?"
She leans in, close enough that you can finally notice the familiar note of fresh fragrance - citrus, floral, and woody. Close enough that you can finally see the gleams in her eyes. "There was no date besides you from the start, by the way."
Never have you ever run this fast to get changed.
-
And you have never moved as fast as possible right now to find Gyubin.
The hallway is longer than your brain can remember, the white floors polished enough to catch your tired reflection for a split second before your old knees force you to slow down.
Your eyes slowly lift from the old blue boutonnière in your palm. Not the fresh one from years ago, no — this one has long since dried into muted shades of navy, carefully pressed beneath cracked plastic inside a tiny keepsake box you still carry around.
"…Sir?" A nurse rounds the corner just as you almost pass her. "We have found Mrs. Song again."
Oh. Hah. Of course. Thank the Lord for the younger workforce. Damn these knees, they complain louder than you do nowadays. Funny. At seventeen, you could sprint upstairs in seconds because the girl you loved was waiting outside. At seventy-eight, just standing from a chair requires utmost attention with every old joint in your body.
Thanking the kind nurse, you slowly but surely, move left and right, past the nurses' station, wave to Qwibbo the nice lad feeding imaginary seven thousand pigeons in the sunlight, turn another corner, and—
Music. Someone has left an old radio in the recreation room again. That same, old familiar melody catches your ear and has led you to where she is.
Gyubin. Now with your last name, Song.
She is still wearing the white cardigan your eldest daughter bought her a few Christmases ago that resembles the white dress from the prom date. She is still wearing the wedding ring you've slid back onto her finger more times than you can count with your feeble fingers because she keeps forgetting what it is and leaving it beside the sink. And she is still dancing, slowly swaying by herself and carefully counting under her breath.
"...Five...six...seven..." A tiny turn. "...Eight."
One of the nurses notices you. "She's been like this since she woke up, sir."
"When was that?" "About six."
"Did she eat breakfast?" "A few bites."
"Medicine?"
She nods. "...But she keeps asking what day it is."
You thank the nurse before quietly walking over. "...Hey."
Gyubin looks up, and you swear the sparks in her eyes never go away when seeing you. "There you are!" She said, and your heart foolishly skips, just like every single time, young and old. "I have been looking everywhere for you!"
"Have you?" "Mhm"
She reaches over and straightens your collar. "You'll wrinkle your suit."
You're wearing a knitted cardigan. "…Right. Sorry."
"You always leave everything until the last minute." She shakes her head dramatically. "We're going to be late for prom."
August 27th.
Again, without fail, every morning. She wakes up and checks the calendar beside her bed to find the little circle around August 27th. Then, she spends the rest of the day waiting for prom. Gyubin doesn't remember yesterday, last week, last month, heck, even their wedding day nor your daughter's birthday.
It's only that day.
"…Gyubin, we still have time." "Do we?"
"Mhm." "Oh good, but I haven't practiced enough yet!"
Before you can answer, she begins counting again.
"...Five...six..." Another careful step. "...Seven..."
You quietly follow beside her in case she stumbles. "...Eight."
-
That afternoon, while Gyubin (finally) naps on her hospital bed, you return home for a change of clothes.
The house has been painfully quiet since the children moved out. You make tea out of habit. One cup: just an earl grey tea bag and pour the water in. You're about to reach for the sugar cube, a bag of Persian tea, and absentmindedly reach for the second cup before remembering Gyubin is still in hospital.
The master bedroom that is both yours and hers remains mostly untouched. Her knitted cardigan that matches with yours still hangs behind the door, the half-finished knitting rests beside the armchair. A pair of reading glasses sits atop the novel she never manages to finish (she tried, the books you read can be quite tiring to go through.)
The old suit still hangs there in the wardrobe, pressed and protected.
"…psss, Doctor Strange's cape, huh?"
As you close the wardrobe, a notebook slips from the top shelf. Small, has a floral cover, and softened corners. Strange, you don't remember seeing this before? Curiosity kills this old man, you sit down and open it.
The first page simply reads: Battle Plan for Prom.
Oh…so this is Gyubin's. Too adorable, your wife is.
The second page:
04/08/2021
I need to ask him.
Damn it, too scary. Maybe tomorrow.
05/08/2021
Ugh, I still didn't ask.
Is he that dense? No way right? At least he's pretty cute.
Hopefully he will ask me.
08/08/2021
Are boys always this dumb? Gargghhh notice me already!
10/08/2021
Bought a new keychain for my bag, and tried new perfume.
If he doesn't notice, I will just rocket myself out of the window.
12/08/2021
I have a brilliant idea: Let's just make a fake date and get some friends to spread the rumour. Let's see if that pretty boy looks jealous.
Oh my god, it might have worked. But I wish he would come to me and ask.
"…Song Gyubin, still my little gremlin."
Page after page, each with increasingly more doodles and schedules about this fake date operation, dress sketches and moodboard, and sometimes admittingly bullshit thoughts squeezed into the margins.
Then the final entry.
27/08/2021
He said yes. Gosh I'm the happiest girl in the world.
Please let every dance after this one be with him too.
A small drop lands on the paper before you notice you have been crying since the first page. Come on, gotta wipe this carefully, it's your wife's treasure! For sixty years, you thought she'd simply been teasing you, knowing how sheepish you are. Never knew she'd spent weeks planning every moment waiting, hoping, wishing for you to be hers, and counting down until the day.
Closing the book and gently placing it on the desk as you stand up, you reckon you should practice again, for the prom, of course! Gyubin is waiting.
-
Here is an old man in a navy suit awkwardly counting under his breath in the master bedroom, the room that he and his wife has spent every single moment next to each other.
"...Five..." Left foot. "...Six..." Right. "...Seven..." He immediately steps on his own shoe. "...Ow."
Ok, one more time. "...Five..." No, wrong foot, damn it. Again. "...Five..." Turn. "...Six..." Again. "...Seven..." Again.
And again.
Until your old legs ache. Until you count to eight without messing up the step. Until the rhythm slowly begins returning and imprints onto your body.
Just enough for one more dance, enough for a girl who's still waiting for prom on August 27th.
Alzheimer's disease can steal yesterday, today, eventually tomorrow. But it sure damn couldn't steal the boy who sprinted upstairs to change into a suit, or a girl who stood patiently on the porch, holding a boutonnière and gleaming with hope that her masterplan will work. Those two young 17 year olds still exist somewhere inside her, in parts or as a whole.
But what you know is that, if she insists on waiting for prom, then you'd happily spend the rest of your life making sure she never had to wait alone.
-
With every step you take
I feel good, it’s like we’re dancing together
My, oh my, oh my, oh, my love
Be my only love~
Rae giggles as she she undoes your pants, nobody should be able to catch you two under here... With a wicked smile she takes you in her mouth, slurping and sucking on your meat until it bulges in her mouth. You groan while Rae devours your cock, your sister is so good at oral! 🤤
"Oh, you're so hard, let me take care if you" Sowon whispered into the microphone. She grabbed a bottle of lube, tapping her fingernails against it. She moved her hand along the bottle, continuing to tap against it's plastic body. Sowon shook the bottle, putting it close to the microphone so it could pick up the sounds of the sloshing liquid.
She opens the bottle and pours the lube in one of her cupped hands. After closing the bottle Sowon pressed her hands together, making sure to move them from one side of the microphone to the other. The wet squelching sound made her giggle but she knew she had to get to work. Sowon moved the dildo, placing it right in front of the microphone as she began to stroke the silicone shaft. "Does that feel good?" Sowon whispers into the mic. "You're so big, it almost makes me want a taste," she says, her hand moving along the slick shaft. "You don't mind do you?"
After a small pause Sowon leans forward, wrapping her lips around the head, tongue swirling arounf the tip as she keeps stroking the shaft. "Mmm, you taste so good," Sowon moans, taking more of the faux cock into her mouth. The garbled words she speaks along with the slight gags as shs pushes it all down her throat are recorded perfectly. The sounds of her slobbering all over the dildo continue for minutes until she presses a small button, making the toy explode in her mouth.
Sowon hums softly, the sounds of her swallowing the fake cum captured on film. "Oh my, it looks like you're still hard after all that. We might need to take things further."
Word Count: 27,121
Yeji x Male Reader (OC Character)
I left the spa with my shoulders loose, my pride damaged, my appetite awake, and the terrible realization that rest might actually work if conducted under hostile circumstances.
The resort had already shifted into afternoon by the time I reached the beach.
Lunch had migrated toward the wide stretch of sand near the shaded cabanas. Staff had set up low tables, coolers, towels, umbrellas, and enough food to make the whole thing look harmless from a distance.
It was not harmless. Nothing involving thirteen idols in swimsuits could legally be considered harmless.
Eight from TWICE. Five from ITZY. Thirteen.
It would have been fourteen if Sana had not taken John and disappeared into her own private world. Which meant my best buddy was currently missing what was possibly the most dangerous visual event in recorded vacation history.
Tragic. For him. Potentially— definitely fatal for my cardiovascular system.
I stopped at the edge of the path with two food bags in hand and understood, immediately, that my massage had not prepared me for this. No human resources department in the world would approve this configuration. Not under wellness. Not under senior-junior bonding. Not under emotional recovery. Not even if every person involved signed a waiver and agreed to pretend swimwear did not have consequences.
TWICE and ITZY had taken over the beach like a summer pictorial had escaped supervision and developed group dynamics.
Jihyo stood near the cabanas in navy, athletic and clean-lined, the kind of swimsuit that made her look ready to command a pool, a stage, or an emergency evacuation. The loose white shirt over it did not soften the effect. It gave leadership a resort setting.
Nayeon wore pink. Because of course she did. Bright, playful, unfair pink, with a cover-up that looked innocent only if someone had never met Im Nayeon in their life.
Jeongyeon had swim shorts and a fitted sleeveless top, practical enough to pretend she was above the nonsense and sharp enough to prove she was not.
Momo was in black with a tied sarong at her hips, relaxed and lethal in the specific way Momo became when she had eaten well, slept well, and decided the world did not deserve her full effort.
Mina wore white. Naturally. A clean one-piece beneath a pale linen robe, calm and expensive-looking enough that the ocean probably lowered its volume around her.
Dahyun had gone bright and retro, cheerful enough to look harmless until her smile reminded everyone that she did not need props to become dangerous.
Chaeyoung looked like she had turned swimwear into an art decision. Patterned, mismatched, deliberate, somehow working because she had the face of someone who would argue with reality and win.
Tzuyu was in green, simple and graceful, looking like the final frame of a resort advertisement where everyone else had been removed for being too loud.
Then there was ITZY.
Lia wore soft cream over muted green, understated and pretty in a way that made quiet look expensive.
Chaeryeong had a lavender wrap skirt over her swimsuit, light fabric moving with the breeze, delicate enough to look shy until her posture reminded me she had spent yesterday telling me no with frightening accuracy.
Yuna looked like summer had been created, reviewed, and approved by her personally. Bright blue, white accents. Too tall. Too pretty. Fully aware.
Ryujin was in black. Obviously. Sporty enough to pretend it was practical. Sharp enough that the lie did not matter. She sat with sunglasses on, drink in hand, not looking at me with the exact precision of someone trying very hard not to look guilty.
And Yeji— Yeji was near the waterline. Black swimsuit. Sheer cover-up slipping off one shoulder. Hair tied loosely back, skin catching the sun, legs bare, face turned toward the water like she did not know she had just made the entire beach rearrange itself around her.
My brain stopped. Completely. Not figuratively. I had no thought. Only evidence. Thirteen idols, bathed in sunlight. In swimwear that would constitute a PR apocalypse if the public saw.
Apparently, vacation was a full visual assault carried out under the false legal category of lunch.
Nayeon noticed me first, standing like an idiot whose brain just announced it went on sabbatical that very moment. Her smile sharpened before I had even finished spiritually buffering “Oh.”
I blinked. That was all I managed. A blink.
Nayeon leaned forward from her seat, delighted “He stopped walking.”
Dahyun turned “He did?”
“He did,” Nayeon said proudly, like she had personally discovered a new species of weakness. Mina looked over her glass “His processing speed appears reduced.”
“That is not fair,” I said. It was very fair.
Jihyo crossed her arms, the corner of her mouth already fighting a smile “Ben.”
“Yes?”
“Breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
“You are holding lunch like it is the only thing tethering you to civilization.”
I looked down. The food bags were, in fact, being held with excessive moral commitment. Jeongyeon tilted her head “It is rude to stare at your best buddy’s girlfriends.” I opened my mouth. Closed it. Then looked at her “That sentence has several complicated legal and emotional structures inside it.”
“And yet you understood it.”
“Unfortunately.”
Nayeon lifted a hand “In his defense, this is unprecedented.”
Jihyo sighed, but she was smiling now too “We are not blaming you.”
“That definitely sounds like the sentence before I start getting blamed.”
“No,” Jihyo said “Honestly. I do not think anyone has seen this many of us like this at once outside of styling rooms, security-controlled shoots, and in a situation like this that HR spends years trying to avoid.”
Mina nodded once “Controlled exposure is different from group impact.”
I stared at her “Why does that sound like a risk assessment?”
“Because it is.”
Chaeyoung tilted her head, studying me like she was looking at a sketch she had not decided whether to finish “You look like someone got hit by color theory and consequences.”
“That is uncomfortably accurate.” I pointed out.
Dahyun smiled brightly “Should we feel bad?”
“For Ben?” Jeongyeon asked.
“No,” Nayeon said immediately “For John.”
The beach went quiet for half a second. Then everyone understood. Momo looked around the group. Then nodded seriously “Poor John.” Tzuyu took a piece of fruit “He would have tried very hard not to look.” Mina’s mouth curved faintly “And failed politely.” Jihyo covered her mouth “He would apologize to everyone individually.” Nayeon pointed at her “Exactly. He is missing character development.”
I looked toward the resort path like John might somehow sense betrayal through the air “My best buddy is currently alone with Sana. I think he is fine.” Jeongyeon smiled “Still rude.”
“I was not staring at his girlfriends.”
Everyone looked at me. I reconsidered “I was visually overwhelmed by a hostile environment.” Chaeyoung nodded “That is better.”
“Thank you.”
“Still guilty.”
“Less thank you.”
Nayeon leaned back, clearly enjoying herself “You know, Ben, if you are going to freeze like that, at least make it flattering.”
“I was holding lunch.”
“You can hold lunch and compliment us.”
“That feels dangerous.”
“It is.”
Jihyo’s brows lifted “You are inviting this?”
Nayeon smiled “Absolutely.”
Jeongyeon looked at me “You may proceed to complement with caution.”
“That sounds like a trap.”
“It is.”
Momo looked up from a fruit plate “Do I look good?”
The entire beach went quiet in a different way. Because Momo asked it plainly. Not fishing. Not performing. Just Momo, looking at me with her head slightly tilted, waiting for an honest answer. I swallowed once “Yes.”
Momo nodded “Good.”
Then she went back to eating. That was somehow worse than if she had flirted. Jihyo smiled “Careful. Momo takes direct answers seriously.”
“I noticed.”
Dahyun rested her chin in her palm “And me?” I looked at her bright retro swimsuit “You look like trouble discovered sunscreen.” Dahyun’s smile widened “Acceptable.”
Chaeyoung lifted a brow “And me?” I looked at her properly “You look like someone took three ideas that should not work together and made them surrender.” Chaeyoung blinked and then smiled “That was actually good.”
“I am occasionally useful.”
“You are more useful when you stop trying to sound useful.”
“That feels like a deeper insult.”
“It was a compliment with teeth.”
“Accepted.”
Tzuyu looked at me next. Not asking. Just looking. Which was worse, because Tzuyu could turn silence into expectation better than most people could manage with legal documents. “You look elegant, Tzuyu.” I said “Like the beach was told to behave for your arrival.”
Tzuyu considered that. Then nodded “Good recovery.”
I placed a hand over my chest “Thank you.”
Mina’s gaze shifted toward me. Calm. Patient. Terrible. I looked at her white swimsuit and linen robe “You look expensive enough to make the resort nervous.” Mina blinked. Then smiled into her glass “Accurate.”
Jihyo shook her head “He knows how to survive.”
“Barely,” Jeongyeon said.
Jihyo looked at me expectantly. I looked back. Then realized the leader had not yet received her compliment. Dangerous oversight “You look like authority went on vacation and still made everyone stand straighter.” Jihyo stared at me. Nayeon clapped once “Oh, that one was good.” Jihyo looked away, smiling despite herself “Acceptable.”
“That’s high praise.” I told Jihyo.
“Low-medium praise.”
“I accept low-medium leadership praise.”
Jeongyeon pointed at herself lazily “What about me?” I had to pause for a bit for effect, “You look like practicality became unfairly attractive and then pretended it was just being sensible.” Jeongyeon blinked. Then smiled “That is also acceptable.”
“Excellent. I am alive.”
“For now,” Mina said quietly.
Then Yeji appeared in front of me.
She did not pinch me. Not yet. That would have been too simple. She only stepped into my line of sight and made the entire problem worse. Very close. Very amused. Very dangerous “You complimented everyone before me.”
I froze.
The beach went silent. Not because she sounded angry. She did not. That was the problem. She sounded entertained. Playfully wounded. Possessive in the exact way that made my self-preservation instincts forget the emergency exits “I was under social attack.”
“You were under visual attack.”
“Also true.”
“And your first instinct was not to look at your girlfriend?”
I looked at her. Then at her swimsuit. Then back at her “I was avoiding a public incident.” Her eyes narrowed, but the corner of her mouth moved “What incident?”
I stepped closer. She stayed there, the brave woman that she is, “If I had looked at you first and only at you,” I said, voice low enough to be intimate and loud enough to be a problem “this beach day would not last five minutes.”
Yeji’s face went pink. Immediately. Behind her, Nayeon inhaled like she had just smelled blood in the water. I continued, because apparently rest had made me reckless.
“I would thank everyone for the food, apologize to Jihyo for the schedule damage, pick you up, carry you back to the room, and spend the rest of the afternoon reminding you exactly why black was a dangerous choice.”
The beach exploded. Yuna screamed into her hands. Ryujin removed her sunglasses. Lia turned her face away, smiling despite herself. Chaeryeong looked directly into her cup like tea might save her from hearing.
Nayeon pointed at me “That was not a joke.”
“It was joke-adjacent.”
Jeongyeon crossed her arms “That was a threat with romance.”
Mina took a sip “Efficient.”
Jihyo looked at Yeji “Do you need leadership assistance?” Yeji’s face was fully red now “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Also no.”
That almost killed me. I shifted the food bags into one hand, leaned down, and caught Yeji around the waist. Her eyes widened “Benjie—” Too late. I lifted her. Not high enough to be dramatic. High enough for her feet to leave the sand. High enough for the beach to react. Which it did. Loudly.
Yeji grabbed my shoulders on instinct. I kissed her cheek once. Then the other. Then her forehead. Then the side of her nose because she tried to turn away and I was committed.
“Ben.”
“One second.”
“That is already more than one.”
I kissed the corner of her mouth. The beach lost structural integrity. Momo clapped once “That was good.” Nayeon screamed “That is how you recover.”
Yuna looked like she had just witnessed a new category of boyfriend. Ryujin muttered, “Disgusting.” Lia smiled into her drink “Someone’s jealous.” Ryujin pointed at her “Careful.”
Yeji, still in my arms, covered her face with one hand “Put me down.”
“Treat economy,” I said.
Her fingers parted “What?”
“Treat economy. I am making a formal deposit.”
Her eyes narrowed “You cannot use treat economy to justify public embarrassment.”
“I am not justifying public embarrassment. I am investing in behavioral compliance.”
Jihyo looked toward Mina “Does that make sense?”
Mina tilted her head “Emotionally it does, unfortunately.”
Yeji stared at me “You are not earning enough treat credit to drag me back to the room.”
“Understood.”
“Not even five minutes.”
“Clarified.”
“And if you keep saying things like that in front of everyone, I am suspending treat economy for the rest of the day.”
I immediately set her down. Gently. Safely. With respect for policy. The beach noticed. Of course it did. Dahyun smiled “Treat economy has enforcement value.”
“Please do not encourage the system,” Jihyo said.
“It already exists,” Mina said.
Jihyo looked at her. Mina blinked “What?”
Yeji adjusted her cover-up with the very fake dignity of a woman who had just been kissed into several shades of red. Then she pinched my side. There it was “Ow.”
She smiled sweetly “Good boyfriend.”
“I was behaving.”
“You were escalating.”
“I was romantically escalating.”
“That is still escalating.”
“Low-medium escalation.”
“Benjie.”
“Yes, love.”
The word softened her for half a second. Only half. But I saw it. So did most of the beach. Unfortunately. Nayeon sighed dramatically “This is unfair.”
“To whom?” I asked.
“To everyone watching.”
Jeongyeon nodded “Mostly to John.”
Tzuyu looked toward the path “He is missing a lot.”
“Stop pitying my best buddy,” I said.
“He would pity himself,” Mina said quietly.
That was probably true. I finally lifted the food bags again “I brought lunch.” Jihyo’s eyes moved to them “Good. Before this becomes worse.”
“It already became worse,” Lia said.
“Then before it becomes official.”
I walked toward the low table, and that was when Yuna appeared in front of me with a smile bright enough to require suspicion “Manager-nim.”
“No.”
“You do not know what I am asking.”
“I know the category.”
She placed both hands behind her back. Then tilted her head “Do I look good too?”
That one was unfair. Not because Yuna needed reassurance. She knew she looked good. Of course she knew. But sometimes Yuna asked questions like she was joking because sincerity still felt too easy to drop. I looked at her properly.
Bright blue. White accents. Smile sharpened by chaos. Eyes waiting a little too closely “You look like summer was irresponsible when it made you.”
Her smile stopped being performance for one second. Then came back worse “Good answer.” I lifted one hand and patted her head. Once. Gentle “You are not allowed to weaponize it.”
She froze. Then slowly turned toward Yeji “Unnie.”
Yeji sighed “No.”
“But he complimented me and gave me a head pat.”
“I saw.”
“I feel emotionally undercompensated.”
“That is not a category.”
“It is now.”
Before anyone could stop her, Yuna stepped forward and kissed my cheek. Quick. Bright. Respectfully chaotic. Then she skipped backward like she had committed a misdemeanor and enjoyed the sentence.
The beach erupted again.
Yeji stared at her, Yuna lifted both hands “Respectfully.”
Ryujin pointed at her “That was not respectful. That was tactical.”
Yuna smiled “Respectful tactics.”
Lia covered her mouth, but she was laughing. Chaeryeong looked horrified and impressed. I stood there with food bags and no legal defense. Yeji looked at me. I lifted both hands “She moved faster than policy.”
“She learned from Ryujin,” Lia said.
Ryujin looked proud “I did not train her.”
“You spiritually did,” Chaeryeong murmured.
Ryujin turned toward her “Et tu?”
Chaeryeong blinked. Then smiled. Small. Pleased with herself. That smile mattered. So I looked at her. Really looked.
Lavender wrap skirt. Quiet posture. Braver than she had been when this retreat started, but still surprised every time someone noticed “You look beautiful too, Chaeryeong.”
She stopped smiling. Immediately. Not because she disliked it. Because she believed compliments were safer when they were given to other people.
I softened my voice.
“The lavender suits you. And the way you’re standing there like you belong at the center of the beach, even if you’re pretending you don’t.”
The table quieted. Chaeryeong’s fingers tightened around her cup. Lia looked at her. Momo looked at her too. Chaeryeong lowered her eyes. Then, quietly “Thank you, oppa.”
Momo nodded once “Pretty.”
Chaeryeong turned pink. That was enough. More would have made her run. So I shifted my attention to Lia. She noticed immediately “No,” Lia said.
“I have not said anything.”
“You are about to become sincere.”
“That sounds like an accusation.”
“It is a warning.”
I looked at her soft cream cover-up and muted green swimsuit, at the way she sat near Yuna but not hidden behind her anymore, at the calm that still looked careful but no longer looked like distance.
“You look peaceful.” Lia blinked. The beach softened again. I continued, quieter now “And it is nice seeing you look like that.”
Lia looked down into her drink. For a second, the joke left her face. Then she smiled. Small. Real “Thank you.”
Yuna leaned against her shoulder immediately “She does look peaceful.”
Lia sighed “You are heavy.”
“You love me.”
“I tolerate gravity.”
Yuna grinned. Good, that kept the softness from becoming too much.
Then Ryujin stood up towards me. Black swimsuit. Sunglasses. Drink. Trouble pretending to be casual “So.”
“No,” I said.
“You do not know what I am asking.”
“I absolutely know the category.”
Ryujin lifted her chin “You gave compliments.”
“You received enough attention earlier.”
The beach went silent. Too silent. Ryujin’s mouth curved slowly. Dangerous. Lia closed her eyes. Yuna’s eyes widened. Chaeryeong looked into her cup again. Yeji turned toward me with one eyebrow raised.
I lifted one finger “Clarification.”
“Please do,” Jihyo said dryly.
“I mean Ryujin has already done enough today.”
Ryujin smiled “Have I?”
“Yes.”
“Then I earned something.”
“You earned consequences.”
“I prefer compliments.”
I looked at her. She waited. Not cute. Not soft. Ryujin did not want to be called beautiful in that moment. She wanted the word that felt like a dare. So I gave it to her.
“You look hot.”
Her smile changed. Immediate. Sharp. Satisfied in a way cute never would have earned “There it is.”
Yeji looked at me. I looked back “That was the correct category.” Ryujin nodded “It was.”
Mina sipped her water “Accurate labeling.”
Jihyo sighed “I am surrounded by dangerous people with vocabulary.”
Nayeon leaned toward Jeongyeon “He has become very good at not dying.”
Jeongyeon looked at me “For now.”
I turned back to Yeji immediately. Wise. Necessary. Survival “And you,” I said. Yeji’s eyes narrowed “I already got mine.”
“No. You received emergency appreciation.”
“That sounds fake.”
“It was real, but incomplete.”
The table reacted before I even moved. Nayeon sat up. Yuna covered her mouth. Ryujin muttered, “Here we go.” I stepped closer to Yeji. Not lifting her this time. Not causing a larger incident. Mostly.
I touched the edge of her cover-up where it slipped off her shoulder, fixing it just enough to make it worse. Her breath caught. Very softly. I smiled “You look like home came to the beach and decided to be unfair.”
The noise around us lowered. Not disappeared. Just softened. Yeji looked at me. This time she did not tell me to stop. So I continued “You look like if I were a better man, I would sit beside you politely all afternoon.”
Her mouth curved faintly “And since you are not?”
“I will sit beside you impolitely while pretending to be civilized.”
That got her. A laugh. Small. Caught before it escaped fully. Then Yeji stepped closer. Her hand rose to my chest. Not pushing me away. Holding me there “Then pretend well,” she said.
The beach went quiet again. Yeji’s cheeks were still red. But her eyes did not leave mine “If you behave,” she continued, voice soft enough to sound private and clear enough to ruin me publicly, “I will let you keep looking at me like that.”
My brain stopped again. Different reason this time. Nayeon made a wounded sound. Jihyo stared at Yeji like she had not expected counterfire. Mina’s eyes warmed with interest. Chaeyoung smiled slowly. Ryujin removed her sunglasses again. Yuna whispered, “Unnie.” Lia covered her mouth. I looked at Yeji “You are matching me now?”
Her chin lifted “You keep forgetting I can.”
That was it. That was the killing blow. I folded. Completely. No negotiation. No dignity. No surviving.
I stepped forward, bent down, and swept Yeji off her feet. With no warning. Without announcement. No dramatic countdown. Just immediate romantic failure.
The beach detonated.
Yeji gasped, both arms snapping around my shoulders “Benjie!”
“Yes, love?”
“What are you doing?”
I turned away from the table and started walking toward the path. Politely. Calmly. Like I was not carrying ITZY’s leader away from lunch in broad daylight.
“I redact my previous statement.”
Her eyes widened “What statement?”
“That beach day would last five minutes.”
Jihyo stood immediately “Ben.”
“Updated estimate,” I said, still walking, “zero minutes.”
Nayeon screamed in joy. Yuna slapped both hands over her mouth. Ryujin shot to her feet. Lia said, very calmly and very uselessly, “Oh no.”
Yeji stared at me “Where are you taking me?”
“Back to the room.”
“Benjie.”
I looked down at her. Black swimsuit. Red cheeks. Hands around my shoulders. That look in her eyes that said she knew exactly how to stop me and had not decided if she wanted to. A terrible, beautiful, catastrophic thing happened inside my chest.
“I am taking you back,” I said, “putting a baby in you, and making every joke about princess-wife-girlfriend legally inconvenient.”
The beach died. Actually died. Even the ocean seemed to reconsider participating.
Yeji’s mouth opened. Nothing came out. Which was a problem. Because Yeji’s denials usually arrived before the crime finished forming. This time, there was only silence.
Red-faced. Wide-eyed. Completely gone.
Nayeon recovered first “Oh my God.”
Ryujin pointed at Yeji “She froze.”
Yuna looked between us “Wait, are we getting a niece or nephew?”
“No one is getting anything before lunch,” Lia said immediately.
Chaeryeong looked at Lia. Then at Jihyo. Then at me “Should we stop him?”
“YES,” Lia and Jihyo said together.
I kept walking. Lia moved first. Of course she did. She was closest to emotional logistics. “Ben,” she said, stepping into my line of sight.
“Yes?”
“Put our leader down.”
“No.”
“Please do not convert beach day into succession planning.”
“I respect your concern, Lia, but no administrative system outranks my current objective.”
Lia stared at me. Then at Yeji “Yeji?”
Yeji blinked. Once. Twice. Like her brain had heard her name from very far away and was trying to swim back to shore “I know,” she said quickly. That was not an answer. Everyone noticed. Lia’s eyes narrowed.
“You know what?” Yeji looked at me. Then at the path. Then back at Lia. Her face went even redder “I know I can stop this.” Good. Progress. Civilization still had a chance. Then her arms tightened around my neck “But I am processing.”
The beach exploded again.
“That is not stopping him,” Ryujin said.
“No,” Mina said calmly “It is categorizing the emergency.”
Lia took one step closer “Yeji, please use the system.”
Yeji seemed to remember there was, in fact, a system. Her eyes snapped back to mine “Benjie.”
“Yes, love?”
“Treat economy is suspended if you do not put me down.”
The beach went still. That usually worked. Everyone knew it usually worked. Treat economy was not a metaphor anymore. It was law, order. An absolute structure. The invisible leash that kept me from becoming a luxury disaster with hands.
I stopped walking. Yeji’s eyes sharpened. She thought she had me. Reasonable assumption. Historically supported. Then I said “Acceptable loss.”
The beach detonated. Yeji’s mouth fell open. Nayeon screamed louder. Ryujin bent forward laughing. Yuna staggered backward like she had been physically struck by romance.
Lia stared at me like she had just watched a government collapse.
Jihyo, still halfway across the sand, froze. Momo stopped eating. That was how I knew it was serious. Yeji’s voice came out faint “What?”
“Acceptable loss.”
“No treats for the rest of the day,” she warned.
“Acceptable.”
“No cheek kisses.”
“Painful, but acceptable.”
“No praise.”
“Cruel, but acceptable.”
“No calling me love.”
I stopped breathing. The beach leaned in. Yeji stared at me. I stared back. Then I adjusted her carefully in my arms and continued walking “Worth the cost of my current goal.”
Yeji short-circuited so hard I felt it through her entire body. Her hands tightened around my shoulders. Her face went blank. Then red. Then blank again.
Nayeon whispered, “Oh, he is gone too.”
Lia covered her face “They are both gone.”
Jihyo finally reached us. Full leader mode. “No,” she said.
I stopped. Because Jihyo was Jihyo. But I did not put Yeji down. That seemed important.
“Jihyo,” I said politely.
“Ben.”
“With respect, you are currently standing between me and the legal future of my household.”
Nayeon made a sound like she had been stabbed with joy. Jihyo closed her eyes “I am not helping you explain to JYP why ITZY’s leader is expecting a child after vacation.” The sentence landed. Expecting a child. After vacation.
The beach went quiet again.
Yeji made a tiny sound. Not protest. That was the issue. Everyone heard it. Ryujin slowly turned toward her “Unnie.” Yeji blinked again. Once. Twice. Then hid her face against my shoulder. That was worse. So much worse. Because she was not fighting. She was malfunctioning.
Jihyo’s eyes opened slowly in disbelief “Yeji.”
Yeji’s voice came muffled against my shoulder “I am listening.”
“No, you are not.”
“I am listening emotionally.”
Nayeon stepped forward, hands lifted like she was approaching a rare animal “No, wait. Let him finish the proposal-threat.” Jihyo turned on her “Nayeon.”
“What? We need the full sentence for context.”
Jeongyeon crossed her arms “This is why HR avoids swimsuits.”
Mina tilted her head “Marriage before abduction is generally cleaner.”
“Thank you,” Lia said immediately.
Mina continued, “But the emotional sequence is coherent.”
Lia looked betrayed “Mina…”
“What? Accuracy matters.”
Chaeyoung looked at me, then at Yeji, then at the path “This is very dramatic.” Tzuyu took a piece of fruit “Yeji is not denying it.”
That was the sentence. The clean knife. The beach stopped for the third time. Every face turned toward Yeji. Yeji slowly lifted her head. Her face was red enough to qualify as a weather event “I—”
Nothing followed. Nayeon pointed at her “Oh my God. She likes it.”
“I do not—”
“Too late,” Ryujin said immediately.
Lia lowered her hand from her face “The pause was legally significant.”
Mina nodded “Emotionally significant.”
Chaeyoung added, “Narratively significant.”
Tzuyu said, “She is already choosing names.”
“Tzuyu,” Jihyo said.
“What? It is practical.”
Yeji stared at all of them. Then at me. Then at the path. Then back at me. And that was when I saw it. The final failure of reason. The first baby line had broken her. The child-after-vacation line had ruined her. But everyone pointing out that she was not denying it? That freed her.
Her eyes changed. Still embarrassed. Still overwhelmed. But no longer trying to claw her way back to sanity fast enough. Then she smiled. Not a controlled smile. Not a leader smile. Not the small, private smile she usually tried to hide before anyone could weaponize it.
This one was stupid. Bright. Soft. Absolutely gone.
A dummy grin, plain as daylight, spreading across her face while her eyes stayed unfocused like her brain had wandered directly into a house that did not exist yet and started arranging furniture.
Nayeon stared at her “Oh my God.”
Yeji blinked at her “What?”
“You’re smiling.”
Yeji immediately tried to stop. Failed. Ryujin pointed at her “No, she’s gone-gone.” Lia looked horrified “She’s not even embarrassed anymore. She’s planning.” Yeji’s mouth opened. Then, instead of denial, words started falling out “I mean…”
Everyone froze.
Yeji looked down, still in my arms, then back up with the kind of seriousness that would have been more convincing if she were not smiling like an idiot.
“If it is legal and official, then I need to know whether I am changing my name before or after schedules calm down, because documents are annoying, and if we hyphenate then school forms might get complicated later, but also Hwang-Sung sounds—”
“School forms?” Jihyo repeated.
Yeji looked at her like this was the obvious concern “For the baby.”
The beach collapsed. Yuna screamed. Nayeon folded into Jeongyeon. Chaeyoung covered her face. Mina turned away, shoulders moving once. Momo looked interested now. That worried me more than everyone else.
Yeji kept going.
“Also, I don’t know if I want a boy or a girl first, because if it is a girl then Ben will absolutely spoil her too much, but if it is a boy then he will also spoil him too much, so actually that is not helpful, and if it is twins—”
“YEJI,” Jihyo snapped.
Yeji blinked “What?”
“You are planning children.”
Yeji looked down at herself in my arms. Then at me. Then back at Jihyo “I am planning responsibly.”
That was it. That was the fourth detonation. Ryujin spun in place like she needed somewhere to put the chaos. Yuna dropped into the sand. Lia sat down halfway, then stood back up like civilization needed her. Jihyo pinched the bridge of her nose.
I looked down at Yeji. She looked back at me. Still smiling. Still gone-gone. Still absolutely not helping “Princess-wife-girlfriend.” She beamed. Actually beamed.
“I like Hwang-Sung.”
I nearly resumed walking. Jihyo saw it “Benjamin.”
“I am being tested.”
“You are being stopped.”
“I am being oppressed by responsible women.”
“You are being kept from becoming a father before lunch.”
Yeji made a small pleased noise against my shoulder.
Jihyo stared at her “Yeji.”
“I am not being helpful right now.”
“We noticed,” Lia said.
Yuna lifted her hand from the sand “I want to be the fun aunt.”
“No one is assigning aunt roles,” Lia said immediately. Nayeon sat up so fast Jeongyeon had to steady her “Wait. I also want to be fun aunt.” Jeongyeon looked at her “You would teach the to lie for cany and baby crimes.”
“Cute crimes.”
Chaeyoung raised one finger “I want weird aunt.”
Mina nodded “That is more accurate.”
“Thank you,” Chaeyoung said.
Tzuyu took another piece of fruit “Aunt roles should come after names.”
Jihyo stared at her “Tzuyu, stop helping the pregnancy coup.”
Tzuyu blinked “I am organizing it.”
Yeji turned toward Tzuyu, eyes bright again “See? She understands.”
“No,” Lia said. “No one understands. That is the problem.”
I adjusted Yeji in my arms “Final notice. I am proceeding.” Jihyo stepped back into the path “Hell no you are not.”
“I am.”
“Ben.”
“Jihyo.”
“No one is going anywhere to make anyone pregnant.”
Yeji giggled. Not laughed. Giggled. The entire beach went silent again because Hwang Yeji had just giggled at a pregnancy prevention sentence.
Ryujin slowly lowered her sunglasses “Unnie.”
Yeji looked at her “What?”
“You are smiling like an idiot.”
Yeji touched her own face like she needed confirmation. Then smiled harder “I am thinking.”
“About baby names,” Lia said.
“And paperwork,” Mina added.
“And twins,” Chaeyoung said.
“And fun aunt hierarchy,” Yuna said from the sand.
“And food,” Momo added.
Everyone looked at her. Momo shrugged “She should eat.” That was when Lia looked around as if searching for the last surviving adult. Her gaze landed on Chaeryeong. Chaeryeong froze “No.”
Lia clasped her hands together “Chaeryeong. Please.”
“Why me?”
“You are the only one they might both listen to.”
Chaeryeong looked horrified. Then looked at Yeji. Then at me. Then at the food. Her expression changed. Not confidence exactly. But something close enough “Unnie.”
Yeji peeked out from my shoulder. Chaeryeong’s voice was soft. Careful. Devastating “You should eat first.” Yeji stared at her. I stared at her. The entire beach stared at her. Chaeryeong swallowed once. Then added “If you are thinking of baby names, you should not do it hungry.”
Silence. Then Momo nodded firmly “Correct.” That killed me. Completely. Yeji started laughing. Not a short-circuit laugh. A real one.
Bright. Helpless. Face still half-buried against me. I looked at Chaeryeong “You have become too powerful.”
Chaeryeong turned pink “Sorry.”
“No,” Jihyo said immediately “That was excellent.”
Lia exhaled in relief “Civilization survives because of Chaeryeong.”
Ryujin pointed at Chaeryeong “Unexpected final boss.”
Yuna lifted her head from the sand “Soft final boss.”
Chaeryeong looked mortified and pleased at the same time. I sighed. Defeated. Temporarily “Fine.”
The beach cheered at Chaeryeong like she had singlehandedly stopped a natural disaster.
I carefully set Yeji down. Her feet touched the sand. She kept one hand on my shoulder longer than necessary. I looked at her. She looked back. Still red. Still smiling. Still not fully sane. “You understand,” I said, “that this is only a delay.”
Yeji swallowed. Everyone went quiet again because apparently no one had learned anything “Benjie.”
“Yes?”
“Lunch first.”
The beach froze. I smiled slowly “First?”
Yeji’s eyes widened. Then she realized what she had done “No.”
I leaned down and kissed her forehead. Soft. Public. Entirely too pleased “Then we will discuss baby names over lunch.” Yeji opened her mouth. Closed it. Then, after one devastating second she agreed “Okay.”
The beach exploded for the final time. Nayeon actually screamed. Yuna collapsed back into the sand. Ryujin turned in a circle like she needed somewhere to put the chaos. Lia covered her face. Chaeryeong whispered, “Oh no.”
Momo calmly handed Yeji a plate “Eat.”
Yeji accepted it. Still smiling. Still not denying anything.
Jihyo sat down slowly, like leadership had aged her ten years in five minutes. Mina looked at me “Baby names over lunch may still count as escalation.”
“Noted.”
Chaeyoung smiled “It is a soft escalation.”
Tzuyu picked up fruit “Efficient.”
I sat beside Yeji before anyone could create a new law. She sat beside me. Close. Too close to pretend. Her hand found mine under the low table almost immediately. Mostly hidden. Mostly not. I squeezed once “You really meant okay?”
She stared at her plate. Then squeezed back. Very quietly “Eat your lunch.” I smiled “Yes, love.”
Across the table, Ryujin groaned “Disgusting.” Yeji looked at her. Ryujin stopped immediately. Momo placed more food near Yeji “Baby names after meat.”
Yeji made a strangled sound. I placed one hand over my heart “I respect Momo’s process.” Jihyo pointed at me without looking up “Do not make this worse.”
“I am eating.”
“You are smiling.”
“I am eating emotionally.”
Lia sighed “That is not better.”
Yuna lifted her head from the sand again “I still want to be fun aunt.” Nayeon raised her hand “I also still want to be fun aunt.”
Jeongyeon pointed at both of them “No.” Chaeyoung lifted one finger “Weird aunt remains available.” Mina nodded “Approved.”
Jihyo stared at Mina. “What? It is the least dangerous role.” still defending herself. Tzuyu looked at Yeji “Names first.” Jihyo dropped her head into one hand “Tzuyu.”
“What? Sequencing matters.”
Nayeon leaned toward Jeongyeon “I want to tell John.”
“No,” Jihyo said immediately.
Nayeon pouted “But he missed the beach pregnancy coup.”
“He is with Sana.”
“He still needs to know his best buddy tried to create a dynasty before lunch.”
Mina took a sip of water “Perhaps after lunch. Sequencing matters.”
Chaeyoung nodded “Story structure.”
Jihyo looked exhausted. The food finally started moving around the table. Slowly. Badly. With too much laughter and too many people still glancing at Yeji like she might accidentally suggest middle names if left unsupervised.
And for a few minutes, with Sana and John somewhere inside their own world, with Ryujin pretending she had not left me a threatening note, with Yeji’s hand warm under the table and thirteen women making the beach look like a survivable kind of chaos, I realized something deeply inconvenient.
Vacation might actually be working.
Even if, apparently, lunch now included family planning.
Lunch was supposed to bring everyone back to sanity.
That had been the theory.
A foolish theory.
Because ten minutes after Chaeryeong successfully saved the beach from becoming a founding ceremony, Yeji and I were sitting side by side under the cabana, holding plates of food, behaving like responsible adults. Mostly. Outwardly. Technically.
“Hyphenated sounds difficult for school forms,” Yeji murmured. I nodded, chewing thoughtfully “True.”
“But if I take your last name completely, then Hwang disappears.”
“That would be a tragedy.”
She looked at me “You sound too agreeable.”
“I am supporting my future wife’s identity.”
Her chopsticks stopped halfway to her mouth. The red came back immediately. Not full collapse. Not beach pregnancy coup levels. But enough. Across the low table, Ryujin slowly lowered her sunglasses “Are you two still doing this?” Yeji cleared her throat “We are discussing names.”
“You are discussing baby names,” Lia corrected, sounding like a woman whose faith in lunch had died twenty minutes ago.
“Names in general,” I said.
Mina took a sip of water “No. The context is specific.”
“Thank you, Mina.”
“That was not support.”
“It felt supportive.”
Jihyo stared at the ocean like she was considering walking into it “I said lunch first because I thought food would help.”
Momo, beside her, nodded “Food is helping.”
Jihyo turned toward her “Momo.”
“They are eating.”
“That is not the part I meant.”
Momo looked at Yeji’s plate “She is eating better now.”
Yeji immediately looked down at her plate like it had betrayed her. Chaeryeong, sitting quietly near the fruit, smiled into her cup. Pleased— possibly proud of herself. She had saved civilization by suggesting we should not plan a family hungry, and unfortunately, that had made her powerful.
Yuna lifted one hand “For the record, I still think Sung Yuna sounds cute.” The table stopped. Lia turned toward her slowly “You are suggesting naming their child after yourself?” Yuna blinked “Oh. I meant if it was a girl.”
“That does not improve the sentence.”
Nayeon leaned forward immediately “No, wait. She has a point.”
Jihyo closed her eyes “Nayeon.”
“What? It is cute.”
Jeongyeon looked at her “You are only supporting this because you want to be fun aunt.”
Nayeon gasped “I would be an amazing fun aunt.”
“You would teach the baby how to lie for snacks.”
“Useful life skill.”
Dahyun folded her hands neatly “I would like to clarify that if fun aunt applications are open, I should be considered for documentation aunt.”
“No,” Jihyo said.
Dahyun smiled “I did not even finish.”
“You did.”
Chaeyoung lifted one finger “I still want weird aunt.”
Mina nodded “That remains the most accurate assignment.”
“Thank you.”
Tzuyu looked at Yeji “If you hyphenate, the baby may complain later.”
“Tzuyu,” Jihyo said weakly.
“What? Long names are inconvenient.”
Yeji looked at Tzuyu with alarming seriousness “That is true.”
“No,” Lia said.
Yeji blinked at her “No what?”
“No agreeing with practical baby-name logistics during lunch.”
“But it is practical.”
“That is what makes it dangerous.”
I leaned slightly toward Yeji “For the record, I like Hwang-Sung.”
Her face softened “You do?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it sounds like you did not disappear.”
That one landed too cleanly. The table quieted. Yeji looked down at her plate. Her hand found mine under the table. Mostly hidden. Mostly not.
The joke thinned for a second, and underneath it was the thing neither of us had been brave enough to hold too long in public. A future. A name. A life where she did not have to vanish into mine to belong there. Then Nayeon made a small sound “Oh, that was disgustingly good.”
The table breathed again. Ryujin pointed at me “Stop being romantic during a bit.”
“I am not responsible for sincerity leakage.”
“You absolutely are.”
Yeji squeezed my hand once. Then, with the very serious expression of a woman trying not to smile, said “I still think we need at least three options.”
Lia dropped her head into one hand “We lost her again.”
Yuna beamed “Baby-name meeting continues.”
Jihyo pointed at everyone without looking “No voting.”
Nayeon immediately raised her hand “I vote—”
“Absolutely not.”
“But—”
“No.”
Momo placed another piece of meat onto Yeji’s plate “Eat first. Names after.”
Yeji looked at the food. Then at me. Then nodded “Names after.” I smiled. “Lunch first.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do not start.”
“I said what you said.”
“You said it with the face.”
“What face?”
“The ‘first’ face.”
Ryujin groaned “They have faces now.”
Mina nodded “They have had faces for some time.”
Chaeyoung looked between us “This is becoming a language.”
Tzuyu picked up fruit “Family language.”
Jihyo stood “Nope.” Everyone looked at her. She lifted both hands “I am going into the water before this becomes a baptism.”
The table exploded. Yeji covered her face. I laughed so hard I nearly dropped my chopsticks. And for the first time since the morning began, nobody tried to stop the chaos from becoming laughter.
Not because it was controlled. It absolutely was not. But because everyone was eating. Everyone was here. And Yeji’s hand was still in mine under the table while the whole impossible beach argued about names that did not exist yet.
Maybe that was dangerous. Maybe that was ridiculous. Maybe it was both. But when Yeji leaned closer and whispered, “I still like Hwang-Sung,” I squeezed her hand once and whispered back, “Me too.”
Across from us, Lia sighed “I heard that.” Yeji froze. I looked at Lia “You heard nothing.”
“I heard future paperwork.”
Mina lifted her glass “Accurate.”
Jihyo, already walking toward the water, called back without turning around “I am not explaining future paperwork to JYP either.” Nayeon cupped her hands around her mouth “WHAT ABOUT FUN AUNT PAPERWORK?” Jihyo kept walking “No!”
Yuna leaned toward me “So is fun aunt a maybe?”
“No,” Lia said.
“At least weird aunt?” Chaeyoung asked.
Mina nodded “Weird aunt is structurally harmless.”
Jihyo stopped walking. Turned. Pointed at Mina “Mina.”
Mina blinked “What? I am choosing the least dangerous aunt.”
Tzuyu looked thoughtful “Food aunt is Momo.”
Momo nodded “Yes I am.”
The beach descended again. Names. Aunts. Lunch. Future paperwork. All of it ridiculous. All of it too much. All of it somehow easier to breathe through than silence. Yeji leaned her shoulder lightly against mine “I think we broke lunch.”
I looked around. At Yuna arguing for fun aunt rights. At Nayeon joining her. At Lia trying to stop a family structure that did not exist. At Chaeryeong smiling because she had saved everyone and accidentally created a meeting. At TWICE treating our impossible future like it was just another vacation activity to ruin responsibly. Then I looked back at Yeji.
“No,” I said. “I think lunch survived us.”
She smiled. Small. Warm. Still a little gone “Good.” Then she picked up her chopsticks again “Now eat. We have names to discuss after.”
I stared at her. She stared back. Perfectly serious. I loved her so much it became physically inconvenient “Yes, wife-girlfriend.”
Her face went red. But she did not correct me. Not this time. Afternoon should have been safer. That was becoming a recurring mistake.
Lunch eventually gave up pretending it was organized and dissolved into smaller pockets of chaos across the beach. Momo stayed near the food with Chaeryeong, which meant Chaeryeong was now accidentally responsible for a second meal and somehow happier than she wanted anyone to notice.
Jihyo had finally gone into the water, though even swimming looked like leadership when she did it.
Nayeon and Yuna had formed an alliance near the towels, which was already enough reason to be afraid.
Dahyun and Chaeyoung sat under one umbrella, talking quietly about something that made Chaeyoung laugh into her hand and Dahyun look far too pleased.
Mina had chosen a shaded chair with a book, though I was absolutely certain she was aware of every moving piece on the beach.
Tzuyu was eating fruit with the calm of a person who had detonated family-planning logistics and felt no guilt.
Ryujin was throwing a ball against her palm like she was waiting for someone to deserve consequences.
Lia had returned to tea. For now.
Yeji and I sat under the nearest cabana, close enough that our shoulders touched whenever either of us moved. That was probably a bad idea.
Naturally, neither of us moved away. The baby-name discussion had technically ended. Technically. In reality, it had only retreated underground, where it lived beneath every glance, every brush of her fingers against mine, every time Yeji looked away too quickly after realizing I was still smiling.
I was trying to behave. Honestly. Heroically. Unsuccessfully.
“You are still thinking about it,” Yeji said quietly. I looked at her. She was not looking at me. She was watching the water, cheeks still touched pink from the earlier disaster, one knee drawn slightly toward herself, her cover-up loose over her shoulders “I am thinking about lunch.”
“No, you are not.”
“I ate lunch.”
“You are thinking with the same face.”
“What face?”
“The baby-name face.”
I coughed once. A few heads turned. Not everyone. Just enough to remind me the beach still had ears. I pretended not to notice “I do not have a baby-name face.” Yeji finally looked at me “You absolutely do.”
“That is a dangerous accusation.”
“You look proud and stupid.”
“I am often proud.”
“And stupid.”
“Only around you.”
She tried not to smile. Failed slightly. That was dangerous. I leaned closer “Also, for the record, Hwang-Sung is still strong.” Her eyes narrowed “Do not restart this.”
“You brought it up.”
“I accused you of thinking about it.”
“And I pleaded guilty.”
“Benjie.”
“Yes, future paperwork?”
Her hand shot out and covered my mouth. Unfortunately, her palm was warm, and she was too close, and the motion made her cover-up slip lower on one shoulder. So instead of stopping me, she created another problem. I went very still. Yeji noticed.
Her hand stayed over my mouth for one second longer. Then another. Her eyes dropped to her own shoulder. Then back to me. The pink in her face changed. Not embarrassment now. Heat. A quiet, sudden thing.
I swallowed against her palm. She felt it. Her fingers flexed. Then she removed her hand slowly “Do not say anything,” she whispered.
“I was not going to.”
“You were.”
“I was going to say I am behaving.”
“You are not.”
“I have not moved.”
“That is not the same thing.”
She looked away again, but this time it was worse. Because her eyes did not go to the water. They went toward the private changing cabanas tucked behind the line of palms just a little ways down the beach. Close. Private enough. Still technically beach-adjacent.
A terrible idea. A convenient terrible idea.
I followed her gaze. Then looked back at her. She kept staring at the cabanas like they had personally wronged her “Yeji?”
“No.”
“I did not ask anything.”
“I know what you are about to ask.”
“I was not going to ask.”
Her eyes flicked to mine. That was a lie. We both knew it. The air between us changed. Not dramatically. Not with lightning. Worse. Quietly. Like a door had appeared where there had only been sunlight a second ago.
Behind us, Yuna laughed at something Nayeon said. Jihyo called for someone not to run near the wet sand. Momo asked Chaeryeong if there was more fruit.
Normal beach sounds. Normal vacation. Normal people.
And then there was Yeji, sitting beside me in a black swimsuit, pretending she had not just looked at a private cabana with the same expression she usually reserved for difficult choreography and bad decisions.
I leaned closer “Are we really doing this?” Her breath caught. That was the answer before her mouth found one. She turned to me slowly “We are not teenagers.”
“No.”
“We are adults.”
“Legally.”
“Ben.”
“Emotionally debatable, given recent family-planning behavior.”
She covered her face with both hands “Do not mention that right now.”
“Why?”
“Because it is not helping.”
“It is helping me.”
Her hands dropped. The look she gave me should have restored order. It did not. Mostly because she was smiling. Not fully. Not safely. Just enough to tell me she was as doomed as I was. “We said lunch first,” she whispered.
“We had lunch.”
“We said baby names over lunch.”
“We discussed zero names.”
“We were interrupted by aunt politics.”
“True.”
“And now?”
I looked toward the cabanas again. Then back at her “Now I am trying very hard not to make another public announcement.” Her eyes widened “Do not.”
“I am showing growth.”
“You are showing restraint with visible suffering.”
“Same category.”
“No, it is not.”
I reached under the table and found her hand. Her fingers closed around mine immediately. Too immediately. We both looked down at our hands. Then back at each other.
For a while, neither of us spoke. That was worse. Because the silence started thinking for us. Yeji’s thumb moved once against mine. A tiny motion. Almost accidental. Definitely not accidental. “I still think girl first,” she murmured.
My breath caught. Not because of the words. Because of how quietly she said them. Not for the table. Not for the bit. For me. I looked at her “Girl?”
Her gaze stayed on our joined hands “I don’t know. Maybe.” She swallowed once, visibly annoyed at herself for being sincere even when nobody was directly interrogating her “I just think you with a daughter would be impossible.”
My chest tightened “Impossible how?” This time, she looked at me. That was the mistake. For both of us. “Soft,” she said.
The word landed right in the middle of me. Soft. Not rich. Not dangerous. Not useful. Not impossible… Soft.
Something about the way she said it made the beach recede. The towels. The food. The others. The jokes. All of it moved one step away. I looked at Yeji’s hand in mine. Then at her face. “Boy or girl,” I said quietly, “I would spoil anything that had your eyes.”
Yeji stopped breathing. Completely. The beach did not go silent. No one else froze. No one else knew exactly what had just happened. That made it worse. Because the whole world kept moving while both of us stopped. Yeji looked at me like I had taken the future out of the joke and placed it carefully in her lap.
Her lips parted. Nothing came out. Then her eyes went toward the cabanas again. This time, she did not pretend it was accidental. I followed her gaze. Then looked back at her. The air changed again. Harder this time. Not from teasing— from want.
From too much honesty having nowhere else to go. That was when Lia appeared beside us. Silent. Tea in hand. Expression already dead “No.”
I blinked “Good afternoon, Lia.”
“No.”
Yeji straightened too quickly “We didn’t say anything.”
“You both looked at the cabanas.”
“That is not illegal,” I said.
“It is on this beach.”
Yeji’s face went bright red “Lia.”
“Do not Lia me while committing logistics crimes.”
“We are not committing logistics crimes,” I said.
Lia looked at our joined hands. Then at Yeji’s face. Then at mine “You are about to ask me to cover for you.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Yeji did the same. Lia nodded “Terrible liars.” I cleared my throat “We are going to take a short walk.”
“No, you are not.” Yeji squeezed my hand. “Technically, we would walk to get there.”
Lia stared at her. The betrayal was immediate “Unnie.”
Yeji winced “I know.”
“You are asking me to become a beach alibi.”
“I am asking you as a friend.”
“You are asking me as someone who lost all sense of reason after imagining Ben with a daughter.”
Yeji’s face went redder. I looked at Lia “That was a low blow.”
“It was accurate.”
“Cruel accuracy is still cruelty.”
“You are trying to sneak away with our leader after lunch while everyone is still discussing aunt hierarchy.”
“Which is why timing matters.”
Lia closed her eyes “I hate that you said timing matters.”
Yeji leaned forward slightly, softer now “We will come back.”
Lia opened her eyes “That is not the part I am worried about.”
“We will come back soon,” Yeji corrected.
“That is also not the part I am worried about.”
I lifted one hand “Define soon.”
Lia turned toward me slowly “Do not negotiate the length of your bad decision with me.”
“Understood.”
Yeji’s thumb brushed the back of my hand. Accidental. Probably. I looked at her. She looked back. Lia saw that too. Her expression shifted from resistance to resignation so quickly it almost made me feel guilty.
Almost.
She looked down at her tea. Then toward the icebox near the food table. Then back at us “No.”
“No?” I asked.
“Tea is not enough for this.”
Yeji made a small helpless sound. Lia pointed toward the icebox “Get me something stronger.”
“Lia,” Yeji whispered.
“You have made me an accomplice. I am adjusting.”
I stood immediately “What would you like?”
“Anything cold enough to make me forget I know both of you.”
“That may require a premium bottle.”
“Do not make this expensive.”
“Too late emotionally.”
Lia pointed at me “Do not.”
I went to the icebox, retrieved one of the chilled bottles Jihyo had absolutely intended to ration responsibly, and brought it back. Lia accepted it without looking proud. That made it worse. Yeji looked at her “You really don’t have to—”
“I know,” Lia said. A pause. Then softer “But come back.”
The comedy thinned. Just for a second. Because underneath the beach, the jokes, the baby names, the treat economy, the public chaos, there was still the truth of it. People worried now when we disappeared. People counted the ways we came back. Yeji squeezed my hand again “We will.”
Lia held her gaze for a second. Then nodded once “Go before I become sensible.”
I did not need to be told twice. Yeji and I started toward the private cabanas. Not running. That would have been suspicious. Not walking slowly either. That would have been worse.
We moved with the exact pace of two adults pretending they were not about to do something reckless behind a changing curtain like they had lost every lesson maturity had ever tried to teach them.
Halfway there, Yeji whispered, “This is insane.”
“Yes.”
“We are really doing this.”
“Yes.”
“Near the beach.”
“Yes.”
“With everyone right there.”
“Technically, behind us.”
She made a strangled sound that was half laugh, half panic “Benjie.”
I looked at her. She looked up at me. Bright-eyed. Flushed. Gone in a quieter way now. Not baby-name gone. Not public short-circuit gone. This was private reckless. The kind of reckless that looked almost young.
Like we had stolen five minutes from a world that kept asking us to be responsible and were about to spend it badly.
She bit her lip. That was unfair. “Last chance,” I said quietly. Her eyes searched mine “For what?”
“To turn around.” The cabana stood three steps away. White curtain. Palm shade. The sound of the ocean just beyond it. The sound of everyone else just far enough away to make this stupid instead of impossible.
Yeji looked at the cabana. Then at me. Then she smiled. Small. Breathless. Terrible “I already told Lia we would come back.”
“That was not an answer.” She stepped closer and tugged lightly on the front of my shirt “It is if you are paying attention.”
I stopped functioning. She noticed. Of course she noticed. Then she pulled me through the curtain. Behind us, Lia remained exactly where we had left her, bottle in hand, expression dead.
For approximately three seconds, she had peace. Then Ryujin sat down beside her. With the posture of a wronged athlete.
Lia did not look at her “No.” Ryujin stared toward the private cabana “I did not say anything.”
“You sat like a lawsuit.”
Ryujin removed her sunglasses. Slowly. Angrily. Lia finally looked at her “Why are you also in a bad mood?” Ryujin’s gaze did not move from the cabana “Because Yeji unnie just took my remaining portion.” Lia’s face went blank “Please tell me you mean lunch.”
“I do not mean lunch.”
Lia closed her eyes “Ryujin.”
“I had leftovers.”
Lia lifted the bottle. Paused. Then looked toward the icebox “I need another one.” Ryujin leaned back, offended by the universe “He stopped me at two.”
“Do not finish that sentence.”
“Then he sees Yeji unnie in a swimsuit and suddenly fatherhood is on the table?”
Lia opened the bottle. Took one long drink. Then said, with deep personal suffering “I hate that I understand your complaint.” Ryujin pointed at the cabana “That was my remaining portion.”
“Stop saying portion.”
“It is accurate.”
“It is emotionally damaging.”
“You asked.”
“I regret asking.”
“That does not solve the portion issue.”
Lia reached toward the icebox without looking “Get yourself one too.” Ryujin blinked. Then smiled faintly “Good idea.”
Meanwhile, inside the cabana, the world became small. Too small. Private enough. Too bright at the edges where sunlight leaked through the fabric. A bench. Hooks for towels. A small shelf. A mirror that immediately became an enemy. Yeji turned around as soon as the curtain fell shut behind us. For one second, we both froze.
Like the ridiculousness finally caught up.
Like we had somehow managed to become two reckless idiots hiding from our friends at a beach resort because lunch had included baby names and swimwear and emotional damage.
Then Yeji started laughing. Quietly. Into her hand. I laughed too. Not because it was funny. Because it was insane.
“Are we really doing this?” she whispered again. I stepped closer “We can still leave.” She looked at me. The laughter faded. Not completely. Just enough. Her hand rose to my chest again, same place as before. This time, no audience.
No Jihyo. No Lia. No Ryujin. No one to turn the feeling into structure before it could burn. Only Yeji.
Her voice came softer “I don’t want to leave.” That was the end of the joke. Not the laughter. Not the absurdity. Those stayed. They always stayed with us.
But the part of me still pretending this was only a bit finally gave up. I touched her cheek. Her eyes closed for half a breath “You know,” I whispered, “Lia is timing us.”
Yeji opened her eyes “I know.”
“Ryujin probably noticed.”
“I know.”
“Yuna is going to notice when we come back.”
“I know.”
“We are terrible at this.”
Her fingers tightened in my shirt “We are very good at coming back.”
That one hit. Harder than expected. I leaned down. She rose to meet me. And when our mouths met, the cabana became too small, the beach too far, the world too loud and too irrelevant all at once.
Yeji kissed me like she had been holding herself together all afternoon and had finally found somewhere safe enough to let go.
My hands found her waist. Hers slipped around my neck. The mirror reflected sunlight. The curtain moved with the wind. Somewhere outside, someone shouted Yuna’s name. Neither of us moved away.
Not yet. Not when we had already promised to come back. Not when we had finally stolen the part in between. I pulled back just enough to breathe. Yeji followed me like she hated the distance. That nearly ended me.
“You are going to get us caught,” I whispered. Her forehead rested against mine “You carried me across the beach and announced family planning.”
“Fair.”
“This is quieter.”
“That is a low bar.”
She smiled. Then her fingers slipped lower, catching the edge of my shirt. Not pulling yet. Just holding. Asking. I covered her hand with mine “Yeji.”
She looked up. There it was again. That future-softness from lunch. The reckless heat from the beach. The leader who knew better. The woman who did not care enough to leave “You said you would come back,” I reminded her “I will.”
“You promised Lia.”
“I know.”
“You promised me too.”
Her expression softened. That one landed differently “I know.”
The cabana went quiet around us. Outside, the beach kept being alive. Laughter. Water. Footsteps in sand. The world not stopping just because we had found a curtain and a terrible idea. Yeji’s thumb brushed over my knuckles, “I am coming back with you,” she said.
Not flirty. Not teasing. Certain. That ruined me more than anything else. Because suddenly this was not hiding. Not really. It was leaving together for one stolen breath and trusting we would return to the world we had chosen.
I kissed her again. Slower this time. Deeper. Her back met the wall beside the mirror, and her small gasp disappeared against my mouth “Benjie,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“If you start talking about baby names right now, I will actually drown you later.” I smiled against her lips “Understood.”
“Good.”
Then she tugged me closer. Not shy. Not hesitant. Not gone-gone in public anymore. Here, she was focused. Here, she was mine in the way she allowed herself to be when no one else was watching. I slid one hand to the small of her back. Her eyes fluttered. “Still okay?”
She nodded immediately.
Then, because she was Yeji, because she loved me and hated losing control in equal measure, she added “We are being reckless.”
“Yes.”
“And stupid.”
“Also yes.”
“And we are coming back.”
“Yes.”
She breathed once. Then smiled. Bright. Nervous. Wanting. “Then hurry before I become responsible again.” That was the last useful warning either of us got.
I kissed her before responsibility could find the curtain. She laughed into my mouth. Then stopped laughing. Her hands tightened. Mine did too. The curtain shifted with the wind. The mirror caught a flash of black swimwear, flushed cheeks, my hands at her waist, her mouth parted against mine. Then I stopped looking at the mirror. I stopped thinking about the beach. I stopped counting minutes. For once, I let the world wait outside. And Yeji let me.
This time the kiss didn’t feel light, it started to get violent. I could feel the desperation that tasted of salt and urgency. This wasn't the soft, romantic kissing we did in the safety of a hotel room. This was a collision. Her tongue pushed past my lips, claiming my mouth with a greedy, sweeping motion, exchanging saliva in a messy, wet rhythm.
I groaned into her mouth, my hands slamming into the small of her back to crush her against me. The friction was immediate. My cock, already agonizingly hard, pressed firmly against the curve of her hip. I could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of my shorts and the sleek nylon of her swimsuit.
Yeji pulled back just an inch, her lips swollen and glistening. Her breath hitched, a small, jagged sound.
"You're so hard," she murmured, her voice a low vibration.
She didn't ask. She reached down, her small hand sliding over the fabric of my shorts, gripping the length of me. She squeezed, her fingers molding to the shape of my cock, and I nearly buckled. I let out a sharp, strangled gasp, my head hitting the wooden wall of the cabana with a dull thud.
"Benjie," she whispered, a smirk playing on her lips even as she panted.
She took my hand, her fingers interlacing with mine, and guided it downward. She pressed my palm flat against the crotch of her swimsuit.
I froze for a heartbeat. The fabric was damp—not just from the ocean, but from her. A dark, heavy patch of moisture soaked the black nylon, the heat of her pussy radiating through the material. I could feel the slight swell of her clit beneath the cloth, pulsing against my hand.
"I've been wanting this since you picked me up," she admitted, her voice trembling.
"We're going to get caught," I managed to say, though my brain was currently a landslide of lust.
"Then let them watch," she whispered, though she immediately tightened her grip on my neck, pulling me back into a kiss to muffle her own moan.
I didn't need more permission. I stepped back just enough to shove my shorts down to my ankles, my cock springing free with a sudden, insistent throb. It stood rigid, a bead of pre-cum already glistening at the tip.
Yeji’s eyes dropped to it, her pupils expanding further. She let out a soft, needy whimper. I moved back in, my fingers hooking into the side of her swimsuit. I didn't take it off—there was no time for that. I simply yanked the fabric to the side, exposing the wet, pink folds of her pussy.
The sight was devastating. She was dripping, her natural juices slicking the edges of the black nylon. I slid two fingers inside her in one fluid motion.
"Oh god," she gasped, her back arching.
A loud, wet squelch echoed in the cramped space as my fingers disappeared into her tight, scorching heat. She was clenching around me, her walls pulsing in rhythmic spasms. I worked my fingers, sliding them in and out, the sound of shlicking filling the air.
"You're so wet, Yeji," I groaned, my voice dropping an octave.
"Because of you," she whimpered, her hands clutching my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin "Please. Now. Right now."
I grabbed her thigh, lifting her right leg and hooking it firmly around my waist. She wrapped her arm around my neck, her body tilting, opening her up completely. I positioned the head of my cock at the entrance of her pussy, rubbing the glans against her clit and the soaking wet lips of her vulva.
I felt her shudder, her entire body vibrating with the effort of staying quiet. I pushed.
The entry was a slow, sliding friction. I felt her stretch, her tight walls gripping me with a fierce, desperate intensity as I buried myself deep inside her, the head of my cock slamming against her cervix.
Yeji’s eyes rolled back. She let out a muffled scream into my shoulder, her teeth grazing my skin. "Fuck," I hissed, my eyes closing as the heat engulfed me. "You're so tight."
I began to move. The rhythm was frantic, driven by the fear of discovery and the sheer weight of the tension we'd built all day. Every thrust created a heavy, wet slap of our skin making contact, the sound of my cock sliding through her cream.
I shifted my hand, reaching up to the shoulder of her cover-up. I yanked the fabric down, exposing one of her breasts. The nipple was already hard, a peaking point of desire. I broke the kiss, leaning down to capture the nipple in my mouth.
I sucked hard, my tongue swirling around the areola while my hips continued to hammer into her. I could hear her breathing becoming erratic, a series of high-pitched, broken whimpers. "Ben... Ben, I can't... it's too much," she sobbed quietly, her head tossing back and forth.
I didn't stop. I increased the pace, my thrusts becoming shorter, harder, more violent. The cabana swayed slightly with our movement, the wooden walls creaking. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps crunched on the sand outside.
We both froze.
I stopped mid-thrust, buried deep inside her. We held our breath, our hearts hammering against each other's chests. The footsteps paused. I could hear a muffled voice—Yuna, sounding bored—and then the sound of someone laughing.
The footsteps faded.
The silence that followed was heavier than the noise. The danger had only acted as a catalyst. Yeji looked at me, her face flushed, her eyes wild. She didn't say a word; she just clamped her legs tighter around my waist and pulled me back into a kiss, her tongue fighting mine.
I lost it. I began to fuck her with a renewed, feral energy. I slammed into her, the sound of our bodies colliding becoming a wet, rhythmic percussion. I could feel her walls contracting, milking me, pulling me deeper "I'm... I'm close," she whimpered against my lips.
"Me too," I groaned.
I gave three more powerful, deep thrusts, feeling the internal muscles of her pussy clamp down on me in a violent climax. Yeji shrieked into my mouth, her body stiffening, her internal walls pulsing in waves of ecstasy that threatened to pull my cock right out of me.
I followed her a second later. I let out a low growl, my body shaking as I pumped load after load of hot cum deep into her. I felt the pressure build and release, the warmth of my seed filling her, overflowing and leaking back out to lubricate the final, sliding friction of the act.
We stayed like that for a long moment, panting, our foreheads pressed together, the smell of sex and salt heavy in the air.
I slowly slid out of her with a wet, sucking sound.
Yeji slumped against the wall, her chest heaving. She looked down at where we had joined, seeing the mixture of cum and arousal dripping down her inner thigh. "We should go," I whispered, though I didn't move.
Yeji looked at me. Her eyes weren't satisfied. They were glowing. She could see, still hard inside the fabric of my shorts, still twitching. "One more," she whispered "Please. I want more."
"Yeji, Lia is probably staring at her watch."
"Let her," Yeji replied, her voice regaining its strength "I want you again."
She didn't wait for me to agree. She turned around, pressing her palms against the wooden wall of the cabana. She arched her back, pushing her ass out toward me, her black swimsuit still pulled to the side.
The view was breathtaking. The curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, and the glistening, open invitation of her pussy.
I stepped up behind her, my cock already throbbing for a second round. I grabbed her right leg, lifting it high and hooking it over my hip to give me a better angle.
I entered her from behind in one smooth, powerful surge.
Yeji let out a loud, sharp moan that she barely managed to stifle. I gripped her left breast, my thumb rubbing the nipple into a hard peak while I began to fuck her with a slow, grinding intensity.
I leaned forward, pressing my chest against her back. I began to kiss her—starting at the nape of her neck, then moving to the sensitive skin behind her ear. "You look so hot like this," I whispered, my voice a dark caress. "You feel so fucking good, Yeji. I don't want to leave this room."
"Don't leave," she gasped, her voice strained. "Just... keep going. Harder, Benjie. Please, harder."
I complied. I shifted my grip, my hand moving from her breast to her hip, anchoring her as I began to drive into her. I wasn't being gentle anymore. I was hammering into her, the sound of the impact—the slap of skin on skin—filling the small space.
As I thrust, Yeji shifted her gaze. She looked into the old, spotted mirror on the wall. I saw her eyes widen. She was watching us. She saw the way my body looked against hers—the contrast of my skin against the black of her suit, the way my cock disappeared entirely into her with every deep, wanting thrust. She saw the focus on my face, the raw, unbridled lust in my eyes as I focused entirely on the sensation of her.
A loud, uncontrolled moan escaped her. "Oh god, I can see it... I can see you..." she whimpered. She was losing control. Her moans were getting louder, the risk of discovery now an active threat. Before she could scream, I reached around and slid my fingers into her mouth.
Yeji instinctively clamped down on them, sucking on my fingers to muffle her cries. Her eyes remained locked on the mirror, watching the rhythmic, violent motion of our bodies.
Seeing her suck on my fingers while I fucked her from behind triggered something in me. I gripped her hips tighter, my fingers bruising her skin, and I accelerated. I began to thrust with everything I had, my cock sliding in and out of her with a frantic speed.
Yeji's body began to shake. She was tightening around me, her pussy gripping me like a vice. I could feel her reaching the edge, her internal walls fluttering. "Cum for me," I groaned, my voice a command. "Cum for me, Yeji."
She let out a muffled shriek against my fingers, her body collapsing as a second, more powerful orgasm ripped through her. She clenched around me so hard it was almost painful, her walls pulsing in rhythmic, desperate waves.
The feeling pushed me over the edge. I let out a loud, ragged breath, my hips locking against hers as I emptied myself into her once again. I felt the heat of my cum flooding her, filling her to the brim.
I collapsed against her back, both of us panting, the only sound the distant crash of the ocean and the loud, synchronized thumping of our hearts. I stayed inside her for a while, savoring the feeling of her warmth and the way she was still trembling beneath me.
"I can feel it," Yeji whispered, her voice airy and exhausted. "So much... you filled me up so much."
"That," I panted, kissing her shoulder, "was intensely good."
We stood there in the fading sunlight, the reality of the situation slowly returning. The risk, the guilt, the inevitable interrogation from the girls. "We really have to go back now," I said, though I made no move to pull out.
Yeji turned her head slightly, looking at me with a exhausted and satisfied smile. "You say that," she murmured, "but your body is saying something else, Benjie."
I looked down. Despite the cumming twice, despite the exhaustion, my cock was still hard, still buried deep inside her. Even as I spoke, I found myself making slow, sensual thrusts— tiny, lingering movements that sought to savor every last millimeter of her warmth before the world rushed back in. "I'm just... ensuring the seal is tight," I whispered.
Yeji giggled, a soft, genuine sound that made my heart ache. She leaned back into me, closing her eyes. "Liar," she breathed. "But I like it."
I squeezed her one last time, a slow, deep press of my hips, before I finally slid out with a long, wet sigh. We stood in the quiet of the cabana, two reckless idiots in damp swimwear, knowing that the walk back to the beach would be the longest and most dangerous journey of our lives.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved. Not because we were calm. Because moving meant the real world was allowed to come back. Yeji was the first to look down at herself. Then at me. Then at the mirror. Her face went red all over again “We look guilty,” she whispered. I told that “We are guilty.”
“That is not helping.”
“I panicked into honesty.”
She covered her face with both hands, but I could see the smile trying to escape between her fingers. I reached for one of the folded towels and handed it to her. She took it, then pointed at the wall “Turn around.”
“I have already seen you na—”
“Benjie...”
I turned around immediately. The cabana wall had a bent hook on it. I stared at it like it was a legal witness. Behind me, Yeji fixed what needed fixing. I fixed my shorts, my shirt, my hair. The hair did not survive “Is it bad?” I asked. Yeji stepped in front of me, took one look, and winced “That bad?”
“You look attacked.”
“I was invited.”
“You were enthusiastic.”
“I believe in full participation.”
She tried to flatten my hair with her fingers. It got worse. After three attempts, she gave up and patted my chest “Confidence.”
“That is not a grooming strategy.”
“It is now.”
A sound passed outside. Footsteps in the sand. Both of us froze. Yuna’s voice drifted by, faint and cheerful.
“…but if I were a fun aunt, I would need a whistle, right?”
Jeongyeon answered from farther away “No.”
“For safety.”
“No.”
Their voices faded. Yeji and I stared at each other “Fun aunt?” she whispered.
“She cannot have a whistle.”
“No she cannot.”
We waited one more breath. Then I reached for the cabana door. Yeji caught my hand before I opened it. Her fingers slipped between mine “We let go before they see us,” she said. “Obviously.”
Neither of us let go. She looked down at our hands. Then up at me “Benjie.”
“I know.”
“We are terrible at this.”
“Historically.”
She squeezed once. Then nodded toward the door “Open it.”
I did. The sunlight hit us like evidence. We stepped out together, hand in hand, making the worst possible attempt at innocence. We made it back to the beach with the dignity of two people who had absolutely not earned dignity.
Yeji walked beside me with her hand in mine. That was the first mistake. The second mistake was that neither of us let go. The third mistake was that we both looked too calm.
Nobody who came back from a private changing cabana after disappearing together should look that calm. It was suspicious calm. Domestic-crime calm.
Yeji noticed me noticing “We are never doing that again,” she said.
“That sounded fake.” I told her.
“It was aspirational.” she said while trying to hold composure.
“Very responsible of you.”
“I am trying.”
“You pulled me in by the shirt.”
“You followed.” Yeji pointed out.
“Historically, I am weak against you.”
She looked away. The corner of her mouth betrayed her.
The resort path curved back toward the beach, hidden in places by palms and sun umbrellas. The afternoon had softened around us. People were scattered everywhere now. Some near the water. Some at the food table. Some under shade. Some doing absolutely nothing with the confidence of people who had temporarily forgotten their contracts.
Yeji’s thumb moved against my hand. Small. Absent. Dangerous. “We are terrible at being responsible,” she said.
“We came back.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No, but it is a good legal defense.”
She laughed once, then her expression changed. Not fully serious. But close enough that I felt it “I still think girl first.”
My steps slowed “Yeji.”
“What?”
“We just returned from the scene of a crime.”
“It was not a crime.”
“Lia became an accessory.”
“She volunteered.”
“She was blackmailed by circumstance.”
“Then we should name the baby after her.”
I stared at her “Nickname? Probably. Legal first? No.”
She smiled “Too soon?”
“Too Lia.”
“She would hate it.”
“She would sue us.” I corrected.
“That sounds accurate.”
We kept walking. I should have stopped there. A smarter man would have stopped there.
Unfortunately, I had spent the day lifting Yeji, threatening family planning in public, violating cabana integrity, and imagining children with her eyes. Wisdom had left the island. “If we had a daughter,” I said, “I would buy every stuffed animal in Seoul.”
Yeji looked at me “Every?”
“I would start with high-quality ones.”
“Hypothetical children deserve ethical stitching?”
“Exactly.”
She bit her lip, trying not to smile “You are impossible.”
“For my hypothetical daughter, yes.”
“She would be spoiled.”
“She would be loved.”
“She would be both.”
Yeji looked forward again, but her hand tightened around mine “No buying a school”. I blinked “What?”
“If she goes to school and you do not like the curriculum or the lunch menu, no buying the school.”
“That feels restrictive.”
“Benjie.”
“What if the curriculum is weak?”
“No.”
“What if the chairs hurt her back?”
“No.”
“What if the lunch is nutritionally negligent?”
“No school acquisitions without discussion.”
“So acquisitions are possible.”
“No acquisitions at all.”
“That is not what you said.”
She stopped walking. I stopped with her. She turned toward me, eyes narrowed. “You would actually try.”
“I would research first.”
“That is worse.”
“If someone makes her cry, I destroy them.”
“No.”
“I comfort her first.”
“You are a terrifying hypothetical father.”
“I am a responsible hypothetical father.”
Yeji’s expression softened despite herself. I continued, because apparently I wanted to die honestly. “I ask what happened. I teach her feelings are allowed. I tell her she does not need to earn comfort.” I paused “Then I destroy them.”
“No.”
“Lightly.”
“No.”
“Legally.”
“Still no.”
Her eyes stayed on me. Warm now. Too warm. “You would be a good father.” That sentence did something unfair to the air. I forgot how to walk. Yeji realized what she had said. Her eyes widened “I mean—”
“No takebacks.”
“Benjie.”
“You hypothetically married me.”
“I did not.”
“You are discussing school acquisitions and parenting philosophy with me.”
“That is not marriage.”
“That is marriage-level logistics.”
Her face went pink. “Keep walking.”
“Yes, wife-girlfriend.”
She looked at me sharply “Do not test me.” I smiled. Then we kept walking.
Unfortunately, the beach had witnesses. Lia and Ryujin were the first ones we reached. Lia sat under a large umbrella with a bottle in hand that was definitely not tea. Ryujin sat beside her with sunglasses on, arms crossed, looking like someone had stolen both lunch and justice.
Yuna stood nearby with the restless energy of a person who knew important gossip existed but had missed the first half.
Ryujin lifted her sunglasses “Conception confirmed?”
Lia closed her eyes “I told her not to ask that.”
“You told me not to ask. You did not provide alternate wording.”
Yeji’s hand tightened around mine “Nothing is confirmed.”
Ryujin looked at Lia “That is not a denial.”
Lia took a slow drink “Structurally adjacent to a denial.”
I looked at the bottle “Why are still you drinking?”
Lia pointed at me without looking “You made me an accomplice.”
“That was not my intention.”
“You vanished into a cabana with Yeji while I sat outside performing emotional border control.”
Ryujin added, “And Yeji unnie took my remaining portion.”
Lia’s head turned slowly “Please do not say that again.”
“He stopped me at two.”
“Ryujin.”
“Then Yeji unnie walks by in black, and suddenly he is discussing school forms, daughter eyes, and starting a family line.”
Yeji’s face went scarlet. I made the mistake of reacting to only one part. “I did not say daughter eyes out loud.”
Silence.
Lia stared at me. Ryujin smiled slowly. Yuna gasped “You said daughter eyes?”
I closed my eyes “Operational failure.”
Lia pointed at me “She asked if conception was confirmed and you panicked into fatherhood details.”
Yuna bounced once “I leave for ten minutes to establish fun aunt training drills and miss daughter eyes?”
“You established what?” Yeji asked.
“Fun aunt training.”
“No.”
“Too late. I have drills.”
Ryujin lifted her bottle “Respect.”
Lia took it away “You are not rewarding that.”
Yuna leaned closer to Yeji “So is her name picked?”
“No,” Yeji said too quickly. Ryujin turned toward me. “He picked something.”
“I did not.”
Lia looked at my face. “You did.”
“I am surrounded by prosecutors.”
Yuna clasped both hands. “I knew breakfast was important. Everyone makes life decisions after food.”
“That is not what happened,” Yeji said.
Ryujin pointed toward the center of the beach. “Tell that to Momo unnie. She is training Chaeryeong in fruit philosophy.” That was when I saw them. Momo stood near the food table, holding a plate of sliced mango. Chaeryeong stood beside her, listening with surprising seriousness. Momo held up one piece. “This part is sweeter near the skin.” Chaeryeong nodded. “So you cut it thinner?”
“Yes. Do not waste the best part.”
“You really do talk more on vacation.”
Momo looked at her “I talk.”
“You talk more.”
Momo considered that. “Maybe you listen more now.” Chaeryeong smiled. Then Momo added, softer “Also, I am happy.”
Chaeryeong’s expression changed. Something small and pleased settled there. “Good,” she said. Momo nodded, satisfied, then held out mango. “Eat.”
Chaeryeong accepted it immediately. Vacation Momo had gained a disciple. Unfortunately, that disciple looked up just as our group approached. Chaeryeong’s eyes moved once. Lia’s bottle. Ryujin’s sunglasses and offended posture. Yuna’s missed-lore expression. Yeji’s red face. My hand still holding Yeji’s. The path behind us. The private cabanas.
She chewed the mango. Swallowed. Then said, “You did it.”
The group stopped. Yeji stared at her. “Did what?” Chaeryeong tilted her head.
“Lia unnie is drinking booze instead of tea, which means she became an unwilling accessory to something. Ryujin unnie looks jealous and undercompensated, which means Ben oppa was involved. Yuna looks like she missed important baby lore. You and Ben oppa look guilty, but not scared. Also, you are still holding hands.”
She looked toward the cabana path. “Private cabanas.” Then back at us, “You came back from trying to conceive the hypothetical child, didn’t you?”
Silence.
Momo nodded. “Accurate.”
Yeji made a sound. I looked at Chaeryeong. “Pattern recognition should be regulated.” Chaeryeong smiled faintly. “Too late.” Yuna whispered, “She is so cool.” Ryujin lifted one hand. “She is integrated.” Chaeryeong glanced at her. “I was already here.”
That was when TWICE noticed. Not all at once. Worse. In waves. Nayeon’s head turned first. Then Dahyun’s. Then Jihyo’s, but she did not move like a leader responding to a situation. She moved like a woman on vacation who smelled premium gossip. Mina followed beside her with calm interest. Chaeyoung came too, already holding a pen.
Jeongyeon stayed farther back, mostly because she saw Nayeon and Dahyun preparing to run and intercepted them by instinct. Jihyo arrived with a drink in hand. “I am not policing this.”
Lia blinked “Excuse me?”
“Vacation mode.”
“That is not an explanation.”
“It is a lifestyle.”
Mina looked between me and Yeji “Operationally useful.”
Chaeyoung smiled “I was about to ask if the scene had emotional continuity.”
Yeji covered her face “Why are you all like this?”
Nayeon tried to push past Jeongyeon “What happened?” Jeongyeon held her by the shoulders “No.”
“I heard conception.”
“No.”
Dahyun lifted an imaginary microphone “Public has a right to know.”
Lia pointed at her “No reports.”
Yuna tried to slip under Jeongyeon’s arm “I am fun aunt staff.”
Jeongyeon caught the back of her cover-up “You are evidence contamination.”
Jihyo ignored the restrained chaos and looked at Yeji. “Was it worth making Lia drink?” Lia pointed at Jihyo. “Thank you.”
Yeji lowered her hands. Her face was still pink. But she answered “It seems so.” Lia stared. “I retract my gratitude.” Mina’s eyes softened. “You did not let go of his hand.”
Yeji looked down. Neither of us had. Chaeyoung tilted her head. “Reckless, but not escaping.” Mina nodded. “You look less like you are floating away.”
Yeji blinked. Chaeyoung added, “Grounded.” The teasing quieted. Just enough. Jihyo’s smile changed too, but she refused to let the moment become too gentle. Smart.
“You answer first,” she said looking at me. “Yeji looks like she will either lie or plan names.”
“I am not planning names,” Yeji said. Tzuyu appeared beside Chaeyoung from nowhere. “Yet.” Everyone turned. Tzuyu sipped her drink. “What?” Jihyo pointed at her. “That was ominous.”
“It was sequencing.”
Momo nodded “Names after food.” Chaeryeong nodded with her. “Reasonable.” Ryujin stared at Chaeryeong. “You really joined their side.” Chaeryeong shrugged “They feed me.”
Mina looked at me. “So what was discussed?”
“Household policy.”
Yeji immediately turned to me “You made it sound worse.”
“It was accurate.”
Jihyo leaned in “What kind of household policy?”
“No school acquisitions,” Yeji said. Mina blinked. Chaeyoung’s pen stopped. Jihyo looked at me “You were going to buy a school?”
“If the chairs were bad.”
Nayeon screamed from behind Jeongyeon. “I knew it was good!”
Jeongyeon tightened her hold. “No entry.”
Dahyun whispered, “Education scandal.”
Yuna gasped. “Can fun aunt sponsor art class?”
“No,” Yeji said.
Chaeyoung raised her hand. “I would like to review that.” Mina looked thoughtful “Married-people behavior.” Yeji groaned. Ryujin lifted her bottle. “She has not denied that fast enough all day.” Lia pointed at Ryujin. “Do not encourage more titles.”
Jihyo crossed her arms “I gave up policing. I deserve hobbies.”
“Gossip is not a hobby,” Mina said.
“It is today.”
“Social analysis,” Mina corrected.
Jihyo smiled “Fine. I deserve social analysis.”
Chaeyoung looked at Yeji “Girl first?”
Yeji froze. Everyone froze with her. I glared at Chaeyoung. “How did you—”
“You both have daughter eyes.” Tzuyu nodded “She said it.” I closed my eyes. “Beach privacy is fictional.” Yeji’s face softened despite the embarrassment “Maybe girl first.” Jihyo made a small sound. Mina smiled. Chaeyoung’s pen moved again. Ryujin looked personally wounded.
“She gets daughter eyes and I get portion delay.”
Lia sighed “You need to retire the portion language.”
“Never.”
Momo offered Ryujin mango. Ryujin took it. Then said nothing for three seconds. “Okay, that helped.” Momo looked satisfied. Sana and John returned while we were still recovering. They came from the direction of the water. Both in swimwear. Both damp. Both smiling. Sana glowed like she had stolen sunlight. John looked rested enough to be suspicious.
Nayeon stopped struggling against Jeongyeon. “Oh.” Jeongyeon looked at them. “You changed.”
John looked down at himself. “Yes.”
“You came back in swimwear.”
“That is evidence,” Dahyun said.
John stared at her. “It is clothing.” Nayeon pointed. “Evidence clothing.” Sana smiled brightly “We came back to the villa, saw everyone still at the beach, and decided to join.”
John nodded “Decided.”
Sana looked at him “I decided.”
“More accurate.”
Momo’s eyes narrowed at John. “Did you eat?” John sighed. “Yes.” Sana nodded proudly “Properly.”
Momo relaxed. “Good.” John looked at me. “I am surrounded by nutritional oversight.”
“You look alive,” I said.
“I was taken hostage by joy.”
Sana beamed “You liked it.”
“I did not say I disliked it.”
“That means yes.”
Mina murmured, “Progress.” Sana looked around at us. “What did we miss?” Everyone answered at once. “Nothing,” Yeji said.
John stared. Then looked at Sana. “I think we should go back.” Sana smiled “No.” Nayeon finally escaped half a step. “You missed Ben and Yeji trying to start a dynasty.”
John turned to me “A what?”
“Partial exaggeration.”
“He carried her off again,” Ryujin said.
John stared “Again?”
“Context-specific,” I said. Sana looked at Yeji “He carried you again?” Yeji’s blush came back “Yes.”
Sana looked at John. John immediately held up one hand “No.”
“You have arms.”
“I also have a survival instinct.”
Nayeon pointed at him “Standards.”
John looked betrayed “You all ruin everything.”
Mina smiled “Romantic labor.”
Sana turned to Yeji “Was it romantic?”
Yeji looked down. Then at me. Then, softly: “Yes.”
That shut everyone up for one clean second. Only one. John looked at me “You are ruining my day from a distance.”
“I am inspiring growth.”
“You are creating labor.”
Sana took John’s hand “Swim with me.”
John looked at her “With everyone?”
Sana smiled “With me.”
His face softened as she leaned closer “Only me, remember?” He exhaled. The manager part of him tried to survive. Failed. “Only you.”
Sana pulled him toward the water before he could recover. As they went, Lia lifted her bottle “To survival.” and Ryujin lifted hers “To remaining portions.”
“No,” Lia said immediately. Yuna raised her juice “To fun aunt training.” Jeongyeon said, “No.”
Chaeyoung lifted her pen. “To evidence.” John called back from the shoreline, “No.”
Yeji leaned into my side. No one missed it. For once, no one attacked. I looked down at her. She whispered, “We still never chose names.” My heart did something stupid “Later,” I whispered back.
Lia’s head turned “They said later.” Ryujin raised her bottle again “To later.” and no one stopped her.
By dinner, the resort had the dangerous calm of a day pretending it had run out of chaos. It had not. It was only chewing.
The meal had been moved to the long outdoor table near the beach pavilion, far enough from the water that nobody could legally call it a drowning hazard, close enough that the ocean still sounded like it was eavesdropping.
Everyone looked sun-warmed. Tired. Fed. Too comfortable. That was usually when the worst things happened.
Sana and John returned from the water before sunset, damp-haired and smiling in completely different ways. Sana looked bright. John looked like someone had been forced to relax at emotional knifepoint and discovered, against his will, that it worked.
Momo noticed first.
“You look better,” she said, pointing her chopsticks at John. John looked down at himself “I only changed clothes.”
“No. Better.” Momo corrected as Sana beamed. “He was happy.”
John looked at her. Then at the table. Then back at her “I was present.” Sana’s smile widened “Happy.”
He sighed. “Fine. Happy.”
Nayeon slapped the table once. “Progress.” Jihyo lifted her drink. “Vacation progress.” Jeongyeon looked at her. “You are really not stopping anything today?” Jihyo took a sip as she told her “No.”
“That is concerning.”
“That is restful.”
Mina said, “It is an efficient reallocation of effort.”
Jihyo pointed at Mina “See?”
Dahyun leaned forward “So leadership has been temporarily suspended?”
“No,” Jihyo said.
Dahyun lowered an imaginary microphone “Leadership emotionally unavailable but physically present.”
I sat beside Yeji. That was normal. The fact that everyone kept looking at us was not— actually, that was also becoming normal. Which was concerning.
Yeji reached for the water pitcher at the exact same time I reached for her glass. Our hands crossed. She took the pitcher. I moved the glass closer. She filled it without looking.
I shifted the vegetables toward her before she noticed she had not taken any. She took one piece and placed two on my plate. “No skipping vegetables, Benjie.”
“I was not skipping.”
“You were prioritizing.”
“That sounds better.”
“Eat.”
“Yes, love.”
The table went quiet. Too quiet. I looked up. Everyone was staring. Yeji froze with chopsticks in hand “What?”
Nayeon leaned forward “You two are worse after the cabana.” That made Yeji go red immediately. “We are eating dinner.”
Mina nodded. “That does not disprove anything.” Chaeyoung pointed between us with her chopsticks. “True that.”
Yeji looked at her “That what?”
“That is married table behavior.”
The silence changed. Not shocked silence. Worse. Recognition silence. Mina looked at our plates. Then at the water glass. Then at Yeji’s hand still hovering near my vegetables like she was prepared to enforce nutrition through intimacy. “She is correct.”
Jihyo leaned back, delighted. “Very correct.”
“You are supposed to be responsible.”
“I retired this afternoon.”
“You cannot retire from responsibility.”
“I am not retiring. I am taking vacation leave.”
Jeongyeon nodded “It was approved.”
Yeji turned toward her “You too?”
Jeongyeon took a sip of water “I have eyes.”
Yuna gasped. “Wait. Is this what married people do? Plate management?” Momo nodded. “Yes it is, Yuna.”
Everyone turned to her. John stared “You have data?”
Momo pointed at his bowl “You need more rice.”
John looked down. There was more rice in his bowl than he remembered placing there. He looked at Sana. Sana smiled “I helped.” John closed his eyes “I am surrounded by married table behavior.”
Sana’s smile brightened. “Good.” That was when the entire conversation turned. Not sharply. Not loudly. But with the terrible elegance of a train finding a downhill track. Sana looked from John to me. Then from me to Yeji. Her gaze lingered on our hands. Then on Yeji’s plate. Then on the glass I had moved for her. Then on the way Yeji took one piece of meat, placed it on my plate, and whispered without looking at me “Eat that before it gets cold.” and I obeyed immediately.
Sana’s eyes widened. Not with surprise. With a want.
Oh no.
I was familiar with that expression. So was John. His shoulders tensed before Sana even spoke “Sana,” he said carefully. She pointed at Yeji and me “I want that.”
The table stopped. John looked at us. Then at Sana. Then at us again “Please define that.”
Sana smiled. Sweet. Bright. Absolutely useless. “That.”
John pointed at with no intent of table manners “That is not a definition.”
“It is if you understand.”
“I very much do not want to understand incorrectly.”
“That is why you think too much.”
Nayeon leaned forward “Oh, this is golden.”
Jihyo sipped her drink “and I am not stopping it.”
Yeji whispered, “Cowardly leadership.”
Jihyo smiled “Vacation cowardly leader.”
John looked at me like I had personally created a labor dispute in his relationship. I lifted both hands “Excuse me, I am eating the dinner my beloved girlfriend picked out for me.” That made Yeji blush a bit.
“You are setting standards.”
“I am demonstrating affection.”
“You are creating a benchmark.”
Mina nodded “Benchmark is accurate.”
John turned toward her “Mina.”
“What? His behavior is being used for comparison.”
Sana nodded quickly “Yes.”
John rubbed his forehead “I hate this.”
“You do not hate it,” Sana said.
“I hate that I understand it.”
“That is closer.”
Sana leaned toward him, both hands around his arm now. Not pulling. Not yet. Just anchoring herself “I want you to stop asking me what I want every five minutes.”
John blinked. The table quieted a little. Sana’s smile stayed, but the center of it softened. “I told you already. Only me today.”
“I know.”
“But you keep checking like you are still waiting for permission to want it too.”
That landed. Across the table, Nayeon’s expression softened. Mina looked down into her glass. Jihyo did not joke. John went still. Sana kept holding his arm.
“I want that,” she said again, and this time she did not point at the plates or the hands or the water glass.
She pointed at the ease. The claim. The way Yeji and I had stopped asking permission to belong beside each other for every little thing. John understood that time.
I saw it happen. Then Tzuyu, with the calm of a person gently placing a bomb on the dinner table, said “She might be asking you to put a baby in her too.”
The table died. Chopsticks stopped midair. Drinks froze halfway to mouths. The ocean reconsidered its involvement. John choked on absolutely nothing. Sana turned scarlet. Yeji made a sound that was half sympathy, half betrayal.
I slowly turned toward Tzuyu “Why would you say that?”
Tzuyu looked at me “What? That was also part of your ‘that’ as well.”
Nayeon screamed. Dahyun’s hand shot up “Clarification saves lives.” Jihyo covered her face with both hands, shoulders shaking. Vacation mode had fully consumed her. Mina blinked slowly “The wording was imprecise but possible.”
Chaeyoung nodded, eyes shining “That is the danger of symbolic requests.”
Jeongyeon looked at Sana “You should define that.”
Sana had both hands over her face now “I did not say that.”
Tzuyu tilted her head “You did not say no.”
Sana peeked through her fingers “I said I want that.” John pointed weakly at her. “That has become a dangerous word.” I nodded in agreement, “Welcome to the problem.”
Ryujin lifted her drink “Conception dinner.”
Lia turned toward her immediately “No. We are not naming meals by conception status.”
Yuna gasped “Wait, does dinner get a theme?”
“No,” Jeongyeon said.
“But if lunch was family planning—”
“No.”
“Then dinner is—”
“No.”
Jihyo laughed harder. Momo looked at Sana with practical concern “Eat first.” Jeongyeon pointed at Momo “That is becoming a family motto.” Momo nodded “It’s a good motto.”
Sana lowered her hands just enough to look at John “I am not asking for a baby.” John exhaled in relief. Sana’s eyes shifted away “…Right now.”
The table exploded. John’s entire body shut down. Nayeon nearly fell out of her chair. Yuna screamed into Lia’s shoulder. Lia looked like she regretted having shoulders. Ryujin stood halfway up “Mad respect.”
Yeji grabbed my wrist under the table like she was preventing me from joining the wrong side of history. I squeezed her hand back “I said nothing.”
Sana looked at John again, still pink, still smiling, still somehow braver than all of us “I meant I want you to stop managing the moment before you feel it.” That quieted things again. This table had become terrible at staying in one emotion. Comedy. Softness. Violence. Tenderness. Back to comedy.
No turn signals.
John stared at Sana for a long moment. Then he looked at the table. At Momo watching him with calm approval. At Nayeon vibrating with excitement. At Jihyo laughing into her drink because she had fully abdicated from sanity. At Mina observing like she was filing emotional evidence. At Jeongyeon waiting with the patience of someone who knew exactly how long men could delay obvious choices.
At Yeji and me.
Unfortunately— though I do not know for whom, his face changed. Not dramatically. Not enough for everyone to notice at once. But I noticed. Because I knew my best buddy. I knew manager John, careful John. John who asked first, checked second, apologized third, and somehow still managed to be surprised when women loved him despite the paperwork inside his skull.
That John looked at Sana, and then he set his chopsticks down. Yup, my best buddy had finally snapped. Not badly. Romantically. Which was worse for everyone nearby.
“Okay,” John said. Sana blinked “Okay?”
“Yes.”
“To what?”
John stood. The table went quiet. Sana looked up at him. He did not explain. He did not ask if she wanted to leave. He did not check with Jihyo. He did not glance at Momo. He did not look at me for backup, and that was how I knew it was serious.
He stepped around the chair, bent down, and swept Sana into his arms.
Sana gasped, both arms flying around his neck.
The table detonated. Nayeon screamed like she had been personally rewarded. Yuna shot to her feet.
Ryujin slapped the table “Finally.”
Lia stared into her drink “Lift-based emotional economy has spread.”
Dahyun whispered, “Manager role abandoned at dinner.”
Jihyo, laughing openly now, lifted her glass “I am off duty.”
Mina smiled “Delayed but effective.”
Chaeyoung had already started sketching. Jeongyeon looked at John with approval. “There it is.” Momo watched Sana in John’s arms. Her smile was small. Satisfied. But not untouched, a little jealous, maybe. Not in a sharp way. In the way someone feels when she has already had her turn and still understands the beauty of being chosen again.
Sana stared at John. Her face was pink. Her eyes were bright “You are carrying me.”
“Yes.”
“In front of everyone.”
“Yes.”
“You did not ask.”
John looked down at her “No.”
Her smile changed. Soft. Wondering. Dangerous “Oppa.” He adjusted her carefully in his arms “I am off duty.” The sentence landed harder than anyone expected.
Even I felt it.
For once, John did not look like he was managing the room. He looked like he had left the room behind. Sana touched his face “Really?”
“Really.”
Nayeon made a wounded sound “That was so good.” Dahyun nodded solemnly. “Confirmed cinematic boyfriend moment.” John pointed at her without looking away from Sana “No reports.”
Dahyun lowered the imaginary microphone “Suppressed for romance.”
Tzuyu looked at Momo “Dinner first failed.”
Momo nodded “Sometimes it happens, if it is for a good cause, I will allow it.”
John started toward the path. Sana did not wave. She was too busy looking at him like he had finally understood the exact part of the day she had been asking for since breakfast.
The rest of TWICE watched in awe. Dahyun’s eyes were bright with catastrophic possibilities. Chaeyoung’s pen moved faster. Tzuyu looked thoughtful in a way that made Jihyo visibly nervous. The ones who already had their days watched differently. Momo looked fond and faintly possessive of her own memory. Nayeon looked jealous enough to start a lawsuit. Jeongyeon looked satisfied and mildly annoyed that men could, occasionally, learn. Mina watched quietly, but her smile had a softness she did not bother hiding.
Jihyo lifted her glass again “To vacation.” Everyone lifted something. Even if it was only water. Even if it was only a fork. Even if it was Lia’s second poor decision in a bottle.
“To vacation,” the table echoed.
John carried Sana down the path. For once, he did not look back to check if everyone was okay. That was how I knew Sana had won.
The table stayed quiet until they disappeared. Then Nayeon slapped both hands on the table “I want to file a complaint.” Jeongyeon sighed “Against who?”
“Standards.”
“That is not a person.”
“Ben started it.”
John was gone, so I inherited blame. Unfair yet expected. “I did not carry Sana.”
“You created environmental pressure,” Mina said. I stared at her “Mina?”
“What? He reacted to comparative behavior.” Chaeyoung nodded “It is cause and effect.”
“I am being framed by art and analysis.”
Jihyo pointed at me with her glass “You are being held accountable by gossip.”
“That is worse.”
Ryujin lifted her bottle “Worth it.”
Lia turned toward her slowly “You have said ‘worth it’ about every bad decision today.”
Ryujin considered that. Then nodded “Consistent brand.”
“You are drunk.”
“I am emotionally honest.”
“You are both.”
Ryujin tried to stand. The table watched. She succeeded for half a second. Then sat back down with dignity. “Gravity is jealous.” Yuna gasped “Unnie.”
“I am fine.”
“You are talking like Ben.”
“That is alcohol poisoning of personality,” Lia said.
Then Lia tried to set her bottle down and missed the table by one inch. Chaeryeong caught it before it fell. Everyone looked at her. Chaeryeong looked at Lia. “Yeah, you are done for the night, unnie.” Lia blinked “I was done before I started.”
“That is probably true.”
Yuna appeared beside Ryujin immediately, overly bright and delighted to finally be useful. “Come on, remaining portion unnie.” Ryujin’s head snapped toward her “Do not call me that.”
“You called yourself portion-deprived.”
“That was private grief.”
“You said it beside a bottle in public.”
“Same thing tonight.”
Yuna took Ryujin’s arm and hauled her upright with surprising strength. Ryujin leaned into her. Not heavily. Just enough. “I can walk.”
“Yes,” Yuna said. “In theory.”
“I am athletic.”
“You are sideways.”
Ryujin looked down at her feet. Then nodded once “The beach tilted against me.”
“It is not.”
“Jealous beach.”
Yuna grinned at us. “I got her.” Lia tried to stand next. Chaeryeong was already there. Not hovering. Not anxious. Just prepared.
She took Lia’s bottle away first. Lia looked at her hand like betrayal had occurred. “Tea would never do this.”
“You abandoned tea.”
“I had reasons.”
“You had Ben and Yeji.”
“Exactly.”
Chaeryeong slipped one arm around Lia’s waist. Lia blinked at her. “You are very calm.”
“I have been watching Momo unnie.” Momo looked up from her plate. “Nice save, Chaeryeong.” Chaeryeong smiled. Pleased. Not shy enough to hide it this time. Then she guided Lia away from the table. Lia pointed weakly toward me and Yeji. “They are dangerous.”
“I know.”
“They make people accessories to crime.”
“I know.”
“They said later.”
Chaeryeong paused. Then looked at us over her shoulder. “Later is dangerous.”
Yeji’s face went pink. I lifted one hand “Noted.” Chaeryeong nodded, as if filing it properly, then continued escorting Lia. Yuna and Ryujin moved ahead of them in a zigzag line that Yuna insisted was intentional. Ryujin called back, “I still have a remaining portion.”
“No, you do not,” Yeji said.
“You cannot deny inventory.”
“I can deny access.”
Ryujin stopped. Turned. Pointed at Yeji. “Respect.” Then Yuna dragged her onward. Jihyo watched them go “Should we help?”
Jeongyeon looked at the path. Then at Chaeryeong and Yuna handling their respective disasters. “No.”
Mina took a sip of water “They are managing.”
Chaeyoung smiled down at her sketchbook “It’s a new generation.”
Momo nodded. “They’re good girls.”
That made everyone unexpectedly quiet. Because it was true. Because it was sweet. Because Chaeryeong was not running from the group anymore. She was helping carry part of it. Yuna too, in her loud, ridiculous, sun-bright way. I felt Yeji’s hand find mine under the table. Mostly hidden. Mostly not. “You okay?” I asked softly.
She did not look at me “Do not manager-voice me.”
“That was boyfriend voice.”
“You used worried eyebrows.”
“I have expressive eyebrows.”
“You have guilty eyebrows.”
“I feel I have not earned guilt in the last ten minutes.”
She looked at me. I smiled. She tried not to, failed adorably. “Come on,” she said while taking my hand. I asked Yeji if she meant to our room to which she nodded yes.
“That sounded suspiciously responsible.”
“It is.”
“Are we sleeping?”
She stood. Looked at me. Then looked toward the path John had taken Sana down. Then back at me. “Eventually.”
My soul sat up straighter. Jihyo noticed. Of course she did. But she only lifted her glass and smiled. Vacation mode. Terrifying woman. Yeji pulled me away before anyone could ask questions. Smart woman.
The walk back to our room was quieter than the walk back from the cabana. Less reckless. Not less charged. The resort had settled into night around us. Lamps warmed the paths. The ocean was a dark moving thing beyond the palms. Somewhere behind us, dinner continued in softened pieces.
Nayeon probably filing more complaints. Jihyo pretending not to enjoy being off duty. Mina and Chaeyoung turning the whole day into evidence and art. Momo eating like the world made sense if the food was good. John and Sana very much not available for questions. Yeji walked beside me with her fingers laced through mine. No hiding now. No pretending.
When we reached the room, she kicked off her sandals first. Then looked at me “Today was insane.”
“That feels too gentle.”
“Today was criminal.”
“Better.”
“Lunch became family planning.”
“Yes.”
“Afternoon became a beach alibi.”
“Yes.”
“Dinner became Sana asking for unspecified ‘that.’”
“And Tzuyu providing maximum interpretation.”
Yeji covered her face “I cannot believe she said that.”
“I can.”
“You can?”
“Tzuyu sees the shortest route between two points and takes it without emotional traffic laws.”
Yeji laughed into her hands. Then dropped backward onto the bed. Still in her dinner clothes. Still sun-warm. Still pink at the edges from a day that had not stopped touching her. I joined her a moment later, lying beside her with enough space to pretend we were going to be reasonable. Neither of us believed in that.
For a while, we only stared at the ceiling. The room felt too quiet after the day. Not empty. Just ours. Yeji turned her head toward me “John carried Sana.”
She smiled. “Manager collapse.”
“Romantic retirement.” I added.
“He needed it.”
“So did she.”
Yeji nodded. Then silence returned. Not awkward. Thinking silence which was also a dangerous silence. Then she said, barely above a whisper, “We still never chose names.”
I turned my head. She was staring at the ceiling again. “No,” I said. “We did not.” Her fingers moved against the blanket. “Good.”
“Good?”
“If we chose them, everyone would be impossible.”
“Everyone is already impossible.”
“That is true.”
I watched her profile. The slope of her nose. The softness around her mouth. The way the bedside lamp caught the edges of her hair. My heart did something inconvenient “I thought of some.”
Yeji went still. Not dramatically. Not beach-pregnancy-coup still. Worse. Private still.
Slowly, she turned her head toward me. “What?”
“Names.” I continued. Her lips parted “You thought of names?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
Her eyes narrowed “That was today.”
“I am efficient when emotionally destroyed.”
“Benjie.”
“I was motivated.”
She rolled onto her side, facing me fully now. Not laughing. Not yet. Just careful. Yeji was curious. Already affected and trying to pretend she was not. “Tell me.”
I looked at her “You sure?”
“No.”
“Then—”
“Tell me anyway.”
I smiled faintly “For a boy, maybe Elias.”
Yeji blinked “Elias?”
“As a nickname. Something foreign enough that if he looks more like my mother’s side, it does not feel like we are pretending part of me is not there.”
Her expression softened. Because she knew. My father was Korean. My mother carried more than one map in her blood. European and Asian. A family tree that made people ask questions before they knew what they were asking. I had grown up in the middle of names, languages, rooms where people tried to guess which side of me they were speaking to.
Yeji had understood that before I ever put it into words. “You thought about if they look more like you,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Because they might.”
“Yes.”
“And if they look more like me?”
“Then he still gets both of us.”
Her eyes warmed. “But legal name?”
“If it’s a boy, I want to name him Hwang-Sung Jiho.”
She whispered it once “Hwang-Sung Jiho.”
The name changed in her mouth. Became less hypothetical. More dangerous “Why Jiho?”
“It sounds steady.” I told her as I looked into the ceiling. She looked at me. I kept my voice quiet. “Like someone I would want to teach gentleness before the world teaches him pride.”
Yeji’s eyes softened so much I nearly stopped there. But I had already started walking toward the cliff. Apparently, I intended to jump down headfirst.
She swallowed. “And if it is a girl?”
I breathed once, “Elena.”
Her face changed “Elena?”
“Nickname,” I said quickly “Not legal. Just something I might call her if she gets more of me in her face. If the world looks at her and gets confused before she can explain herself.”
Yeji went quiet. I kept going.
“Something soft enough for my mother’s side. Easy outside Korea. Easy in airports and schools and places where people make names harder than they should be.”
“You thought about airports?”
“You started school forms.”
Her mouth twitched “And you escalated to immigration.”
“Naturally.”
She looked at me for a long moment. Then asked “But that would not be her name?”
“No.”
“No?”
The room felt smaller. Her voice came softer. “Then what is her name?” I looked at her. Really looked “Hwang-Sung Hana.”
Yeji stopped breathing. Completely. I watched the name land. Not as sound. As future. Her fingers tightened in the blanket “Hana?”
I nodded “Because she would be our first.” Yeji’s eyes went glossy. “Our first child?”
“Yes. She would also be our first proof,” I said quietly “that something made from us could exist because we loved each other enough to believe in a future.”
The room disappeared. Not like the beach. Not like the cabana. This was quieter. More dangerous. Because there was no audience to turn it into a joke. No Jihyo to stop me. No Lia to drink. No Ryujin to complain about portions. No Yuna to ask about fun aunt paperwork.
Only Yeji. Only me. Only a name that suddenly felt too real for a child that did not exist.
Yeji stared at me like I had placed the whole future between us and asked her to hold it. “Benjie.”
“Too much?”
She shook her head. Fast. “No.”
Her voice had already changed. Lower. Thinner. Caught somewhere between overwhelmed and wanting. “Say it again.”
I swallowed “Hana.”
Her eyes closed “Again.”
“Hwang-Sung Hana.”
Her breath left her all at once. I saw it happen. The same ignition from the beach. The same private recklessness from the cabana. But deeper now. Not because of swimwear. Not because of public teasing. Because I had named something she had been trying not to want too loudly. She opened her eyes. They were wet. And dark. And absolutely fixed on me. “We are not ready,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I cannot be pregnant right now.”
“I know.”
“Schedules. Contracts. Everything.”
“I know, love.”
Her fingers moved from the blanket to my shirt. Slowly. Not accidental. Not shy enough to hide “But I want it.”
I went very still. She saw that too. Her cheeks flushed, but she did not look away “Not tomorrow. Not literally. Not yet.” Her hand tightened in my shirt. “But someday.”
My chest ached “I know.” Yeji placed her hand on my cheek as she continued on, “I want someday with you.”
“That is not wrong.”
“It feels reckless.”
“Wanting a future is not reckless.” I reminded her.
“Wanting you like this is.”
“Then we can be reckless safely.”
Her breath caught. I lifted one hand and touched her cheek. She leaned into it immediately “You are allowed to want the fantasy without needing it tomorrow,” I said.
Her eyes shut. “You are allowed to want the name without rushing the life.”
Her fingers tightened. “You are allowed to want proof without making your body prove it tonight.”
A tear slipped out. She laughed once, embarrassed and breathless, even as she moved closer. “Do not make me cry before this.”
“I am validating you.”
“You are ruining me.”
“Same category tonight?”
She opened her eyes. The look in them should have warned me. It did. I ignored it. She moved closer until her forehead touched mine. “I know we are not ready for Hana,” she whispered. My breath caught “Yeji.”
“I know we are not making a family tonight.” Her hand slid into my hair. Her voice shook. Not from doubt. From wanting too much and choosing to say it anyway.
“But tonight, I want us to love each other like we’re trying for Hana.”
Everything in me stopped. Not paused. Stopped. Yeji saw it happen. Her blush deepened, but her eyes did not leave mine “Yeji.”
“I know.”
“You cannot say that and expect me to survive.”
“I am not asking you to survive.”
My hand tightened at her waist. She felt it. Her breath caught. For a second, neither of us moved. The whole room seemed to hold still around the future she had chosen. I leaned closer, slow enough that she could change her mind. She did not. Her fingers curled into my shirt and pulled “I want you,” she said.
The words came out quiet. Then she swallowed and said them again, stronger. “I want you now.” My forehead touched hers “You have me.”
“No.” Her voice shook. “Not like that.”
I searched her face. She was flushed. Bare. Completely present. No performance. No leader mask. No joke standing between her and the want anymore. “I want you to want it too,” she whispered.
My breath caught. She heard it. Her eyes softened and darkened at the same time.
“The name,” she said. “The future. Hana. I do not want to be the only one losing my mind over it.”
“You are not.” The answer left me too fast. Too honest. Yeji went still. I touched her cheek. “You are not,” I said again, lower now “I said her name because I wanted it too.”
Her fingers tightened in my shirt. “I know we cannot have that life tonight,” I whispered. “I know what is real. I know what has to wait.”
Her eyes shimmered “But if it were possible?” she asked. I closed my eyes for half a second. That was dangerous. Worse than dangerous. Because the answer was already there. Waiting.
“If Hana happened tonight, I would be terrified.” I said, voice barely steady, “But the fear would be nothing compared to the happiness I would feel.”
Yeji’s lips parted. I opened my eyes “And then I would spend the rest of my life trying to deserve the fact that she came from you.” Her breath broke “Benjie.”
“I would want her,” I admitted. “Not because we are ready. Not because it would be easy. Not because the world would be kind about it.” My thumb moved along her cheek “But because she would be ours.”
A tear slipped down the side of her face. She did not wipe it away. I did, carefully “If Hana happened tonight,” I whispered, “I would love her before I knew how to be ready.”
Yeji stared at me like the words had gone straight through her. Then she smiled. Small. Ruined. Certain. “If Hana happened tonight,” she whispered, “I think I would be the happiest person in the world.”
That was the moment I lost the last safe part of myself. I kissed her. She answered immediately. No hesitation. No pretending. No space left for the day or the dinner or the beach or anyone else’s laughter. Only her hands pulling me closer. Only her mouth under mine. Only the impossible warmth of her saying she would be happy.
Not afraid first. Not ashamed. Happy.
I pulled back just enough to breathe “Yeji.” She shook her head “No. Listen, Benjie.”
I went still. Her fingers slid into my hair.
Her voice trembled, but her eyes stayed locked on mine.
“I know I cannot get pregnant right now. I know we are not ready. I know contracts and schedules and everything still exist.” Yeji paused before continuing on, “But I want this feeling.” Her hand moved against my chest, right over my heart. “I want the part where we believe in her. I want the part where we love each other like she could be real.”
My throat tightened. She pulled me closer. “And I want you to love me now like we’re trying for Hana.”
The room went silent. Completely. I could hear her breathing. Feel her pulse under my hand. See the exact second she realized she had said it out loud and chose not to take it back. I leaned down until my mouth hovered over hers.
“My wife-girlfriend is incredible” I whispered.
Her face went red. But this time, she did not hide behind it. She looked straight at me. Then, quietly, she said “Just ‘wife’ for tonight.” Everything in me stopped again “Just wife?”
“Just wife.”
I kissed her again. Harder this time. Not careless. Not rough for the sake of rough. But with the part of me that had been trying to stay civilized finally matching the part of her that had stopped pretending she wanted less.
She pulled me over her. I went. Her back met the bed. Her hands stayed on me. Guiding. Demanding. Choosing. When I kissed along her cheek, she turned into it. When I kissed her jaw, her breath shook. When I paused at her neck, she whispered my name like a warning and an invitation in the same breath.
“Benjie.”
“I’m here.”
“Then be here.”
That ruined me more than anything else. Because I had been. All day. In pieces. At lunch. On the beach. In the cabana. At dinner.
In every joke that had accidentally become a promise. But now she was asking for all of me in one place. The man who wanted her. The man who loved her. The man who had named a daughter and meant it.
I kissed lower, then stopped only long enough to pull back and look at her. She opened her eyes immediately. Impatient. Soft. Burning.
“I need to hear it once more,” I said.
She knew what I meant. Her face flushed deeper. But she did not hide. She lifted one hand to my cheek and held me there “I want you.” My chest tightened “Again.”
Her lips parted. A small sound escaped her. Half frustration. Half ache. Then she said it clearer “I want you to love me now like we’re trying for Hana.”
The name hit both of us. I felt it in the way her body drew closer. In the way my hand tightened at her waist. In the way the air changed. “Hwang-Sung Hana,” I whispered. Yeji’s eyes closed. Her fingers curled into my skin.
“Elena when she travels,” I murmured. Her breath caught “Hana when she comes home.”
She opened her eyes again. Wet. Dark. Gone in the most present way possible “Our first proof,” she whispered.
“Our first proof,” I repeated.
She pulled me down. The kiss that followed did not feel like the cabana. That had been heat stealing a corner of the day. This was different. This was the whole night opening under us. This was want with a name. This was future turned into touch.
Her hands moved under my shirt, and the first press of her palms against my skin felt like permission and promise at the same time. I helped her lift the fabric away. She watched me the whole time. Not looking away. Not pretending.
When my shirt hit the floor, her hand settled over my chest again. Right above my heart “You would really be happy?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Yeji’s face softened. Then she smiled. Not shy. Not embarrassed “Yes,” she whispered. “Scared. Unready. In trouble with everyone.” A small laugh broke through her breath “But happy.”
My eyes burned. She touched my face “And you?” I swallowed “Terrified.”
“And?”
I leaned into her hand “Happy.” Her smile broke open. That was the final thing. Not the fantasy. Not the name. Not the heat. It was the fact that both of us were standing in the same impossible place and neither one of us was alone there.
Yeji pulled me down again. This time, there was no need to ask where the night was going. No need to joke. No need to soften the want until it became easier to survive.
She had said wife. She had said Hana’s name too. She had said trying. And I had answered. So when her hands moved, I followed. When her breath shook, I stayed. When she whispered my name again, I gave hers back against her mouth.
The lamp beside the bed cast everything in gold. Her hair spread across the pillow. Her eyes stayed on me. Steady now. Certain. “Love me like someday is real,” she whispered.
“I already love you, not someday— today. And it is very real.” I kissed her once more. Then I stopped talking.
And Yeji, my girlfriend, the love of my life, the one who wanted me to call her my wife in this moment— pulled the future close enough for us to pretend it had already begun.
I didn't just kiss her. I leaned into her, my mouth capturing hers with a slow, devastating hunger that felt like an oath. The bedroom was a sanctuary of gold and shadow, the distant roar of the ocean now nothing more than a heartbeat in the background. I started with her clothes. I didn't rush. In the cabana, the urgency had been a weapon, a frantic scramble against the clock. Here, I wanted to savor the shedding of every layer. I reached for the hem of her top, my fingers brushing the soft skin of her waist. She shivered, a small, jagged sound escaping her throat. I lifted the fabric slowly, watching the way the light played over her ribs, the curve of her breasts, the pale, perfect expanse of her stomach.
When Yeji’s shirt left her body, I didn't move to the next piece. I just looked at her. I looked at her as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered, as if she were a miracle I had finally been allowed to touch "You are so beautiful, Yeji."
She blushed, that familiar, endearing pink spreading across her cheeks, but she didn't look away. She reached for my chest, her fingers trembling slightly. She rested her palm directly on my heart— feeling its fast beat, her gaze locked on mine, her expression one of fierce, quiet certainty. "It's beating so fast," she whispered.
"It's trying to keep up with you."
I reached for the fastening of her skirt, my movements steady and devoted. I slid the fabric down her legs, leaving her in nothing but a thin set of lace of white underwear that did nothing to hide the way her body was reacting to me. I knelt before her, my hands sliding up her thighs, feeling the warmth of her skin, the slight tremor in her muscles. I pressed a kiss to her knee, then her mid-thigh, then higher, my breath hot against her skin.
"Benjie..."
I looked up at her, my voice a low, rough shadow of itself "I want to love every inch of you. Not as a boyfriend. But as the man who gets to wake up next to you for the rest of his life."
Yeji let out a broken sob, a sound of pure, overwhelmed release. She reached down, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling my face toward her. I stood up, lifting her effortlessly, her legs snapping around my waist as I laid her back against the sheets.
The mattress dipped under my weight as I crawled over her, my body a shield, a promise. I stripped out of my remaining clothes in a blur of motion, my cock already rigid, pulsing with a need that felt spiritual. When I returned to her, I spent a long time just kissing her. I kissed her cheek, the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth, and then I descended to her neck, tasting the salt and the sweetness of her.
My hand slid down, finding the lace of her underwear. I didn't yank them away. I slid them down slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. When she was completely bare beneath me, I paused. I looked at the curve of her hips, the soft dip of her waist, and the glistening, pink heat of her pussy. She was already wet, her natural juices shimmering in the lamplight, a silent invitation that matched the fire in her eyes.
I shifted, my hand sliding between her legs. I used my thumb to circle her clit, feeling the way she arched her back, her breath hitching in a rhythmic, needy cadence. I slid two fingers inside her, a wet, heavy squelch filling the quiet of the room. "Oh god," she gasped, her head tossing back into the pillow. "Ben... please."
"Tell me," my voice was thick "Tell me what you want, Yeji."
"I want you inside me," she whimpered, her legs tightening around my waist, pulling me closer. "I want to feel you. I want... I want the feeling of us. Of Hana."
The mention of the name was the final trigger. I positioned the head of my cock against her opening, rubbing the glans against her clit, teasing the entrance of her scorching heat. I felt her pulse against me, a desperate, rhythmic thrumming. I pushed.
The entry was a slow, agonizing friction. I felt her stretch, her tight walls gripping me with a fierce, devoted intensity. I buried myself deep, the head of my cock slamming against her cervix, filling her completely.
Yeji let out a long, shaking moan, her eyes rolling back as she clamped her legs around my hips. I stayed still for a moment, buried to the hilt, just breathing her in. The silence of the room amplified the sound of our hearts hammering in sync. "I've got you," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I've got you, Yeji."
I began to move. It wasn't the frantic, stolen rhythm of the cabana. This was a slow, grinding devotion. Every thrust was a word, every slide a vow. I watched her face, the way her features softened and tightened, the way she looked at me with a love so raw it felt like she was stripping my soul bare.
The sound of our bodies meeting was a wet, rhythmic percussion—the sound of my cock sliding through her— drenched in her juices, the soft slap of skin on skin. I reached up, capturing her hands and pinning them to the pillow beside her head, interlacing our fingers.
"Look at me," I commanded softly. She opened her eyes, her gaze hazy and drenched in desire. "I love you," I said, the words heavy and honest. "I love everything you are. I love the leader, I love the girl who blushes, and I love the woman who wants a future with me."
Yeji's eyes filled with tears. She didn't try to hide them. "I love you too, Ben. So much it scares me."
I increased the pace, my thrusts becoming deeper, more insistent. I could feel her walls pulsing around me, milking me, her internal muscles contracting in rhythmic spasms. She was close, I could tell by the way her breathing had turned into short, sharp gasps. I shifted my weight, grinding my pelvis against hers, focusing all the friction on her clit.
"Now, Yeji. Now," I groaned. She screamed my name, even the sound of her moaning my name felt amazing. I felt the violent waves of her orgasm ripple through her, her pussy clamping down on me like a vice. The sensation was too much. I let out a low, guttural growl, my hips locking against hers as I emptied myself into her. I felt the heat of my cum flooding her, filling her to the brim, a white-hot release that left me shaking.
We collapsed into each other, our skin slick with sweat, our breaths coming in ragged heaves. I didn't pull out. I stayed buried inside her, savoring the feeling of her warmth and the way her heart was still racing against my chest.
"You okay?" I whispered, kissing her forehead. "I'm... I'm more than okay," she breathed, her voice airy and exhausted "I feel... I feel like I'm finally home."
I rolled to the side, taking her with me, our bodies still entwined. I held her close, my hand resting gently on her stomach. We both knew Hana wasn't there—not yet—but the gesture felt right. It felt like a promise.
But the fire hadn't fully died. The emotional high had only fueled the physical want. As I looked at her, seeing the way her hair was splayed across the pillow, the way her lips were swollen and red, I felt the need returning, stronger and more focused than before. "Again," I whispered.
Yeji looked at me, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. She didn't say a word. She simply shifted, rolling onto her hands and knees, her back arching, her ass pushed out toward me in a silent, breathtaking invitation.
I moved behind her, my cock already throbbing, sliding back into her with a single, powerful surge. Yeji let out a sharp, loud moan that echoed in the room. I gripped her hips, my fingers digging into her skin, anchoring her as I began to fuck her with a slow, grinding intensity.
"You feel so fucking good," I groaned, leaning forward to press my chest against her back. I began to kiss the nape of her neck, the sensitive skin behind her ear, my voice a dark caress. "Tonight you are my wife. My beautiful, brave wife."
"Ben... oh god, Ben," she whimpered, her head dropping forward.
I shifted my grip, one hand moving to her breast, kneading the soft flesh, my thumb rubbing her nipple into a hard peak. I hammered into her, the rhythm becoming more urgent, more consuming. I wasn't just seeking pleasure; I was seeking a connection that transcended the physical. I wanted to merge with her, to erase the line where I ended and she began.
"Tell me you want this," I panted, my breath hot against her shoulder. "Tell me you want the future."
"I want it!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "I want everything! I want the house, I want the names, I want the chaos... I just want you!"
The honesty of her words pushed me over the edge. I accelerated, my thrusts becoming frantic, the sound of our bodies colliding becoming a wet, rhythmic thunder. I could feel her reaching her second peak, her internal walls fluttering and gripping me with a desperate intensity "Cum for me, Yeji! Give it to me!"
She shrieked, her body collapsing forward as a second, more powerful orgasm ripped through her. I followed her a second later, a violent, shaking release that felt like it was pulling the very soul out of my body. I pumped load after load of my seed deep inside her, filling her once again, the warmth of my climax mirroring the heat of her own.
We stayed like that for a long time, the only sound the synchronized thumping of our hearts. I slowly slid out of her with a wet, sucking sound, then pulled her back into my arms, wrapping the sheets around us.
But as the minutes passed, the silence of the room began to feel heavy with a different kind of tension. The physical release had cleared the air, leaving only the raw, emotional truth of what we had discussed. I looked at Yeji, and I saw that she was still awake, her eyes searching mine.
"Ben," she whispered. "Yes, love?"
"Do you really mean it? About the names? About Hana?"
I tightened my hold on her, pulling her so close there was no air between us. "With every fiber of my being, Yeji. I know we aren't ready. I know the world would probably explode if we tried it tomorrow. But the fact that I can even imagine it... the fact that I can see you as the mother of my children... it's the most real thing I've ever felt."
Yeji let out a shaky breath, a single tear escaping and rolling down her cheek. I kissed it away "I was so scared," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I was scared that I was the only one who wanted the fantasy. That you were just being sweet, or that you were just playing along with the joke."
"It was never a joke. I meant everything I said and I meant it every time," I told her, my voice steady and sure. "I don't play with things like that, Yeji. Not with you." She buried her face in my chest, her shoulders shaking softly. I held her, rocking her gently, feeling the trust she was placing in me. It was a terrifying amount of trust, the kind that could ruin a person if they weren't careful. And I vowed, right then and there, to spend every day of the rest of my life protecting it. "I love you, Benjie," she whispered.
"I love you, Yeji. More than I have the words for."
The tenderness of the moment shifted back into a slow, simmering heat. It wasn't the hunger from earlier— it was something deeper, a quiet, enduring flame. I began to kiss her again, not with urgency, but with a reverent slow-motion that felt like a prayer.
I rolled her onto her back, my movements fluid and sure. I spent a long time exploring her body with my tongue and lips, tasting her skin, worshipping every curve. I focused on the places she loved most, the sensitive dip of her waist, the inner softness of her thighs, until she was arching beneath me, her breath coming in ragged, needy whimpers. "Please," she whispered, her eyes clouded with desire "I want to feel you again. One last time."
I moved over her, the weight of my body a comfort, a claim. As I entered her one more time, I didn't rush. I slid in millimeter by millimeter, feeling every ridge of her internal walls, every pulse of her heart. I stayed deep, my hips locked against hers, our eyes locked in a gaze that felt like it was stripping away everything but the truth.
"This is it," I whispered. "This is us."
"This is us," she echoed, her voice a fragile thread of sound.
I began to move, and this time, the rhythm was an echo of the future we had named. It was slow, deep, and infinitely tender. Each thrust was a promise of stability, a promise of home. I wasn't just fucking her; I was building something. Every time I slid deep into her, I imagined the life we would have, the house we would share, the way the light would look in a nursery one day.
"Hwang-Sung Hana," I murmured against her lips. Yeji gasped, her fingers digging into my shoulders. "Hana… That’s her name."
The name acted as a catalyst. The emotional weight of it merged with the physical sensation, creating a synergy that was almost too much to bear. I could feel her beginning to peak, not from the friction, but from the sheer intensity of the love flowing between us. Her body began to shake, her eyes fluttering shut as she surrendered completely to the feeling "I've got you," I groaned, my voice breaking. "I've got you, babe."
I accelerated my pace, the movements becoming more powerful, more consuming. I felt her internal walls clenching around me in a violent, beautiful climax, her body pulsing in waves of ecstasy that threatened to pull me under. I let out a loud, ragged cry, my body shaking as I pumped the final, most intense load of cum deep into her. I felt the pressure build and release, the warmth of my seed filling her, a final seal on the vow we had made in the dark.
We stayed locked together, the world narrowing down to the point where our bodies met. I didn't move. I didn't breathe. I just held her, feeling the slow ebb of the orgasm and the steady, grounding beat of our hearts.
"Ben," she whispered, her voice sounding as if it had come from a great distance. "I'm here."
"Thank you for loving me like this."
I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her face was radiant, her eyes wet and glowing, a look of absolute peace and belonging that I had never seen before. I kissed her one last time—a soft, lingering press of lips that tasted of salt, sweat, and an impossible kind of hope. "Thank you for letting me," I replied.
I slid out of her slowly, the wet sound a final punctuation mark to the night. I pulled the duvet over both of us, tucking her into the crook of my arm. Yeji curled into me, her head resting on my chest, her hand splayed over my heart.
The room was quiet again, but it was a different kind of silence. It was no longer the silence of anticipation or the silence of fear. It was the silence of a conclusion.
"We really are terrible at being responsible today." Yeji murmured, her voice growing heavy with sleep. I smiled, kissing the top of her head. "The worst."
"I think... I think I'm okay with that."
"Me too."
I felt her breathing slow, her body relaxing into mine as sleep finally claimed her. I stayed awake for a little longer, watching the way the dim light of the lamp cast shadows across her face. I thought about the beach, the cabana, the dinner, and the names. I thought about the road ahead, the contracts, the schedules, and the inevitable chaos of their world.
But as I closed my eyes and felt the warmth of the woman I loved pressed against me, I knew that none of it mattered. We had found a way to be real in a world of performance. We had found a way to love each other with a depth that terrified us and healed us all at once. I tightened my grip on her, pulling her closer into the safety of my arms.
"Goodnight, Yeji." I whispered into the darkness. And as I drifted off to sleep, I could have sworn I felt her smile against my chest.
Morning arrived quietly. No alarms, something I’ve gotten used to in this vacation. Only pale sunlight slipping through the curtains and Yeji asleep beside me. For a while, I watched her. Her hair was everywhere. One hand rested near her face. The other had found my chest sometime during the night and stayed there, as if even asleep she needed confirmation that I had not gone anywhere.
I turned toward her carefully. Her eyes opened before I could move closer. Barely. Sleep-soft and unfocused. “Morning,” I whispered. She made a small sound. Not quite a word.
I kissed her forehead. Then her nose. Then her mouth. Gentle. Unhurried. “Good morning, wife.” Her eyes opened properly. The memory of last night returned all at once. I saw it happen in the color spreading across her cheeks. “Still?” she asked.
“Still what?”
“Wife.”
I looked at her “Did you intend for the position to expire overnight?”
She tried to hide her smile against the pillow “No.”
“Then good.”
I kissed her again. She caught my face before I could pull away and kept me there for one more. Then another. When she finally released me, her eyes were warmer.
Still sleepy. Still emotionally somewhere inside the future we had invented together. My gaze moved down. The blanket had settled around her waist. Her stomach was still mostly covered. I moved lower. Yeji blinked “Benjie?”
I lifted the edge of the blanket just enough to press a kiss against her stomach. She went completely still.
“Good morning, Hana.” Yeji stopped breathing. I kissed the same place again. “Your mother is awake.”
“Benjie.”
“She is pretending this is embarrassing.”
“It is embarrassing.”
“She likes it.”
Yeji’s fingers slipped into my hair. She did not push me away. I rested my cheek gently against her stomach. “I should warn you about her,” I continued.
Yeji looked down at me “You should not.”
“She is stubborn.”
“Benjie.”
“She forgets to eat when she is working.”
“You are talking to my stomach.”
“And she tries to carry everyone by herself.”
Her expression changed. The embarrassment remained. But something softer moved beneath it. Something that made her fingers tighten slightly in my hair. “She is also the bravest person I know,” I said. Yeji became quiet. “She will tell you she is not. Do not believe her.”
“Benjie.”
“She gets scared. She doubts herself. Sometimes she thinks being strong means nobody is allowed to notice.” Her eyes shimmered. I pressed another kiss to her stomach
“But she keeps choosing people anyway.” My voice softened “She chose me.” Yeji’s lips trembled “And that is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Stop.”
“You do not mean that.”
“No,” she whispered. “But I am going to cry.”
“That is allowed.”
“It is too early.”
I looked at her stomach again “Your mother has rules about when emotions are permitted.” Yeji laughed through the tears gathering in her eyes “She cannot hear you.”
“I know.”
“Hana is not actually there.”
“I know.”
The words hurt a little. Not badly. Just honestly. I kissed her stomach once more “But I love her mother enough that someday feels worth greeting.”
Yeji covered her mouth. A tear escaped anyway. I moved back up immediately. She caught me and pulled me against her before I could apologize. Her face disappeared against my neck. “You are horrible,” she whispered. “I said nice things.”
“That is why.” I held her. She stayed there until her breathing steadied. Then she leaned back enough to look at me. “You really love me that much?”
“More.”
“More than what?”
“Whatever amount frightened you enough to ask.”
Her eyes filled again “Benjie.”
“I love you.”
She kissed me before I could say anything else. Softly at first. Then with enough feeling that I forgot morning had anywhere else to go. When she pulled away, her forehead remained against mine “I love you too.”
“I know.”
“And if Hana could hear you someday…”
My chest tightened. Yeji glanced down between us. Her hand settled over her stomach “I think she would already know how much you love her.” I placed my hand over hers “She would know how much I love you.”
“That too.”
“Mostly that.”
Yeji smiled. Then looked down at our hands. “Good morning, Hana,” she whispered. My heart stopped. She heard my breath catch. Her smile widened. Emotionally drunk. Still committed. Emotionally, still my wife.
“Your father is strange,” she told her stomach.
“I am not taking criticism during family time.”
“He talks too much.”
“You like that.”
“I do.”
She looked at me again. Soft. Happy. Completely unguarded. Then her stomach growled beneath our hands. We both froze. I looked down. Yeji covered her face “That was not Hana.”
“I know.”
“She did not answer you.”
“I know.”
“I am hungry.”
I kissed her stomach again “Your mother requires breakfast.”
Yeji groaned. But she was laughing when she pulled me back up. That was how the morning began. With sunlight. With kisses. With Yeji in my arms. And with Hana still years away from us. But already loved enough to be told good morning.
Breakfast was already half alive by the time we arrived. The resort staff had set everything outside again, under shade and morning light. The ocean was too bright. The coffee smelled too strong. Ryujin sat wearing sunglasses indoors. The table was outside. This somehow made it worse.
I sat beside Yeji. She reached for coffee. I watched her hand. She noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You are looking at my coffee.”
“I look at many things.”
“Benjie.”
“It is breakfast.”
She narrowed her eyes “You are being suspicious.”
“I am always suspicious.”
“No. This is specific suspicious.”
Before I could defend myself, Yeji looked from her coffee to the soft eggs near the center of the table. Her brows drew together. Not idol leader brows. Not girlfriend brows. Something worse. Household logistics brows.
“Benjie.”
“Yes?”
“Are coffee and runny eggs safe for Hana?”
I choked on my coffee. The table went silent. Not normal silent. Not scandal silent. Worse. A silence with a name in it. Nayeon slowly lowered her fork “Hana?”
Jihyo put her coffee down with great care “Who is Hana?”
Yeji froze. I froze with her. Mina looked between us “That sounded like a name.” Chaeyoung’s pen stopped moving “Not a joke name.” Tzuyu tilted her head “That sounded like a future name.”
Yeji’s face went red. “I know she is not—”
“Hana,” Nayeon repeated, louder now “You named her?”
“We did not—”
I tried to speak. Failed. Because my brain had already moved past explanation and into crisis management. The problem was not that everyone had heard her. They had. The problem was not that Hana did not exist. She did not. Not yet.
The problem was that, for one completely sincere second, I looked at the eggs and thought ‘Absolutely not.’
I took the coffee from Yeji’s hand. Her eyes widened. Then I moved the runny eggs away from her plate “Do not eat those.” The second silence was worse than the first. Yeji stared at me “Benjie.”
“I do not know how long they have been sitting out.”
“They just arrived.”
“That is not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“You asked if they were safe.”
“Hypothetically.”
“I heard you.”
Lia lowered her forehead onto the table “No.” Ryujin slowly removed her sunglasses. Her face carried the solemn exhaustion of someone witnessing civilization collapse before breakfast “They thought of a name.”
Lia’s voice came muffled against the table “They’re committed.”
Ryujin looked toward the breakfast bar “If they committed, we need alcohol.”
“We are hungover.”
“That means we already started.”
“That is not how recovery works.”
“It is how consistency works.”
Chaeryeong immediately moved both of their coffees closer “No.” Momo placed toast between them “Eat.”
Ryujin looked at the toast “Can toast erase memory?”
“No.”
“Then bring back the bottle.”
I turned toward the nearest server because apparently I was now operating under imaginary prenatal breakfast protocol “Excuse me. Could we have fully cooked eggs? And hot water, please.”
Yeji touched my arm “Benjie, I can still drink coffee.”
“You can have some.”
“Some?”
“One cup.”
Her mouth fell open. I looked at the cup I had taken from her. Then reconsidered “Half.”
“Benjie.”
“And more water.”
Nayeon made a sound so high it might have summoned wildlife “He is already doing father things.”
Ryujin pointed weakly at me “Father-husband mode.”
“I noticed,” Lia muttered.
“He became both at once.”
“I noticed that too.”
Yeji was still staring at me “You know I am not actually pregnant.”
“I know.”
“And Hana is not actually here.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you taking away my breakfast?”
I looked at the runny eggs. Then at her “Because you asked me if they were safe for our daughter.”
Yeji stopped. So did I. Our daughter. I had said it without thinking. No hesitation. No joke protecting it. No legal disclaimer. Yeji’s expression softened so quickly that every ridiculous thing I had just done became worth it. “Oh,” she whispered.
The table went quiet again. Softer this time. Mina looked down at her cup. Chaeyoung’s pen moved again, slower now. Jihyo leaned back in her chair, watching us with a smile that was too fond to be harmless. Nayeon whispered, “They are doomed.”
Tzuyu nodded “Already named.”
I cleared my throat “You can have the coffee.”
Yeji reached for it. I moved it slightly farther away “After water.”
“Benjie.”
“Father-husband mode continues,” Ryujin said.
Lia lifted one exhausted hand “Bottle.”
Chaeryeong placed water in it instead “No.”
Jihyo, meanwhile, had decided that mercy was also on vacation “And Ben.” I looked up “If TWICE is not invited to the wedding and baby shower, you are in trouble.”
“Obviously,” Yeji answered before I could. The table turned toward her. She did not retreat. Emotionally drunk. Still my wife from last night. Apparently remaining that way through breakfast “All nine of you,” she continued. “But nobody is allowed to fight during the ceremony.”
Nayeon frowned “What counts as fighting?”
“Whatever you are already planning.”
“I was only going to discuss seating.”
“You were going to rank the seats.”
“They should be ranked.”
Jihyo smiled into her coffee “I also want planning rights.”
“For the wedding or the baby shower?” Yeji asked.
“Both.”
Yeji considered it seriously “You can help with the wedding.”
“And the baby shower?”
“We can plan that together.”
My coffee stopped halfway to my mouth, Jihyo nodded “Good.” Dahyun raised one hand “What theme?”
Yeji looked at me. Then down at the cooked eggs in front of her. Then at the water. Then at the coffee she had been reduced to half-owning “Something warm,” she said. “Yellow and white, maybe.” Chaeyoung smiled softly “That suits Hana.” Yeji’s face turned pink again. But she nodded “For Hana.”
My heart became useless. Nayeon raised one hand “I want invitation approval.”
“No,” Yeji and Jihyo said together.
“Why do you two already have a committee?”
“Because you would create a seating war,” Jihyo said.
“I would create a seating hierarchy.”
“That is worse,” Mina said.
Dahyun lifted an imaginary microphone “Wedding committee established before engagement. Sources describe emotional inevitability.”
“No reports,” I said.
“Suppressed by future father.”
“Hypothetical future father.”
Tzuyu looked at me “You said ‘our daughter’ to Yeji in front of us.”
I looked down at my plate “Evidence mishandled.”
The fully cooked eggs arrived. Momo placed them in front of Yeji before I could even reach “Eat this.” Yeji looked at the plate. Momo nodded “Safe for Hana.”
Yeji covered her face. The table broke. Not loudly this time. Softer. Because everyone knew the joke had become something warmer than a joke. I placed the water beside Yeji. Then moved her coffee close enough to be merciful “Half,” I reminded her.
She lowered her hands and looked at me with helpless affection “Yes, husband.”
My entire brain stopped working. Lia lifted her head “Oh no.”
Ryujin slowly turned toward the bar “Now we definitely need the bottle.”
Chaeryeong put more toast in front of her “No.”
Breakfast tried to become normal after that. It failed. But it tried. Yeji ate the cooked eggs. I watched her eat the cooked eggs. She noticed me watching her eat the cooked eggs. Neither of us said anything about Hana. Which meant everyone else did. Momo looked satisfied “Good policy.”
Yeji closed her eyes “Do not call it policy.”
“What? Hana should eat.”
The table broke again. That was when Sana arrived properly into the conversation. She had been quiet for too long. That was always a warning. She sat beside John, looking entirely too bright for someone who had been carried away from dinner like a romantic emergency.
John looked calm. Which meant Sana had either fixed him or broken him in a more efficient direction. Possibly both. Sana stirred her juice. Then she looked at Yeji. Then at me. Then at the wedding committee forming itself around Hana’s imaginary baby shower.
Slowly, she turned toward John “Should I also consider baby names?”
John’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth. Nayeon made a sound like she had been waiting all night for this. Jihyo slowly put her coffee down. “We made it almost twenty minutes. That is a new record.” Mina did not check anything and still looked precise “Nineteen minutes, forty-two seconds.”
Chaeyoung smiled “Breakfast continuity.”
Dahyun whispered, “Seasonal theme confirmed.”
John looked at Sana “Please define consider.”
Sana smiled “Think about.”
“That did not help.”
I took a sip of coffee. “For strategic planning, you should first consider the reaction of several million ONCEs discovering that Sana is carrying John’s child.”
John choked. Sana went pink. Nayeon screamed. Jihyo pointed at me “You are banned from strategic planning before noon.” Mina nodded. “Risk assessment is severe.”
Tzuyu added, “The internet would not survive.”
Dahyun lifted an imaginary microphone “Global systems collapse under romantic confirmation.”
Sana hid behind her glass “I was only asking.”
Tzuyu looked at her “You asked with interest.”
Sana’s ears turned red. John stared at the table “I need breakfast to become less dangerous.” Jihyo looked at Sana. “If you are considering baby names, I want naming rights before Nayeon.”
Nayeon gasped “Why before me?”
“Because I asked first.”
“I am THE OLDEST.”
“That does not make you good at names.”
“It gives me authority.”
“It gives you seniority.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
Sana smiled between them “You can both suggest names.”
“That is not naming rights,” Nayeon complained.
“It is more than you had ten seconds ago,” Jeongyeon said.
Jihyo accepted this victory with another sip of coffee. Sana nodded as if this settled it. Then she looked at the wedding committee again. Then at Yeji’s cooked eggs. Then at John “We could have a double wedding.”
John noticed the look too late. “No.”
The answer came immediately. The table went silent. Sana’s face fell. Beautifully. One hand drifted toward her stomach “Oh.”
John closed his eyes “Sana.”
“You would not marry me.”
“That is not what I said.”
“Even if I were carrying your child.”
“Sana, please.”
Her shoulders curled inward. She lowered her eyes to her plate with devastating, completely manufactured grief “I understand.”
“You absolutely do not.”
“I would have to raise our baby alone.”
“There is no baby.”
“And apparently there will be no wedding.”
“I said no to the double wedding.”
Sana touched her chest “He does not want to marry the mother of his child.”
The entire table erupted. “Boooo!”
Even I joined in. “Boooo! John, booo.”
John stared at me “You too?”
I placed a hand over my heart “Especially me.”
“You became a father six minutes ago.”
“And I already know better than to reject the mother of my child.”
Yeji leaned forward, deeply offended on Sana’s behalf “She would be pregnant, John.”
“She would not be pregnant.”
“But if she were,” Yeji insisted, “you cannot make her plan a wedding alone.”
John stared at her “You planned your hypothetical baby shower thirty seconds ago.”
“Which means I understand the emotional burden.”
Jihyo nodded “She does.” John looked around the table. “You have all lost your minds.” Sana sniffled “My baby and I deserve better.”
Yeji reached across the table and took her hand “You can share our baby shower.”
Sana’s grief disappeared for half a second “Really?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.”
Then she remembered she was abandoned and looked mournfully at John again “At least Hana’s father loves her.” I placed a hand over my heart again “Always.”
John pointed at me “Hana does not exist.”
I frowned “Keep my daughter’s name out of your mouth.”
The table broke. Ryujin slowly raised her head from beside her coffee “Marry Sana.”
“There is nobody to marry right now.” John pressed on the bridge of his nose.
Lia winced “That was worse.”
“Much worse,” Yeji agreed.
John looked at her in disbelief “You are supposed to be reasonable.”
Yeji pulled her plate closer “I am planning a wedding and protecting Hana.”
“From what?”
She looked at her fully cooked eggs. Then at her water. Then at the half cup of coffee I had allowed back into her possession “Breakfast negligence,” she said.
My heart gave up again. Lia lowered her forehead back onto the table “I hate how committed they are.” Ryujin reached weakly toward the breakfast bar “I love them. Bottle.”
Chaeryeong placed more toast in front of both of them “No.”
Nakamura Kazuha x Kawai Ruka x M!reader
Tags: cunnilingus/pussy eating
WC: 3.9k
—————
On the bed, in or on the sheets, lights on or lights off, it’s eat or be eaten. Sort of. Or to be more specific, it’s either you eat pussy, or you will be fed it.
The pantherine performance of eating your partner out isn’t so much about roleplay or the more intense stuff (though who’s complaining?); sometimes, it’s just a matter of who and whom.
KAZUHA
With Kazuha, you ate. At least, until the moment you let yourself be consumed.
“Are you ready?,” Kazuha whispered, looking down across her torso. She wrapped her shins around your neck, pulling you closer as she locked them together. Already the sight made you hard, seeing the muscular curvatures form shadows in the dim light.
You grinned before leaving a slow, drawn-out drag of your tongue through her folds and right to her clit. “Of course I’m ready.” Kazuha let out a trembling sigh, grabbing your hair with both hands and pulled you in.
Jaguars are no laughingstock of the jungle: their bites have evolved to pierce the thick hides of thicker-skinned animals, their limbs powerful enough to lock them in place while they do.
You, on the other hand, held Kazuha’s thighs with force. They wrapped under and around the well-endowed muscle of her legs and ass – and for a woman like Kazuha, to hold her in her entirety was a feat.
So you lapped into her folds, licking up and up again as fast as you could. Kazuha held you tightly by the hair, wanting you to go deeper, harder – if such a thing was doable by your tongue alone.
“Anh, yes, just like that,” she gasped, thrusting her entire hip into your face and dragging all her fluids over you from nosebridge to chin. You could feel it pool and dry up at those spots, and feel them wet again as she let out ounces and ounces of slick onto you.
And you licked as hard as you could, sucking her pussy into your mouth, trapping it there purely by your vacuuming, and licking her clit.
“You’re so fucking good,” you hissed, before spitting into her already drenched folds. Strings of it spilled onto your cheeks, the pungent smell of your thirsty breath clinging to your face; it mattered little as you felt her fluids cake the same spots.
“You’re so fucking good, holy shit,” Kazuha gasped. One hand let go of your head, then the other, as she started grasping her chest. Though her breasts weren’t enough to fill her long, slender fingers, she still groped them with enough force, enough desperation you could see the skin redden as skin scraped against skin.
You let up for a second, allowing Kazuha some space to breathe. She breathed heavily as you planted kisses on the inner sides of her thighs, already streaked with the saltiness of spit from your mouth and sweat from the sides of your head. What little hair follicles remained stood up in bumps that dragged against your lips; all in all, the perfect sensory intermission for the both of you.
As you kept at it, her thighs loosened their grasp on your neck; you pulled her hips down ever gently, locking her into place, and inched closer once again into her folds. You knelt against the bed, planting her harder into the mattress and shoving your tongue deeper into her folds. You felt the taste of it sharpen and burn against your tender mouth muscle. You swore you could taste iron; even if you weren’t sure, you still pushed in, eyes closed in bliss.
You hummed as you dug deeper into her with your tongue. You scooped up into her walls, letting the obscene mixture inside her drip into your mouth. And drink you did gratuitously, as Kazuha’s formerly quiet breathing strained against the pillow she held to her mouth.
“You close, baby?,” you smiled, locking your eyes into hers. In that moment, as she paused her moaning and having absorbed all the pleasure, she smiled with renewed fire in her eyes.
For the record, in case you were mistaken, you were not the jaguar here.
Kazuha suddenly locked her thighs around your head, until your ears rang and your vision blurred. Her nails started pressing against your scalp; you found yourself catching your breath, or trying in between small centimeters of breathing space you fought for against Kazuha’s grip.
You fucking loved it, and gurgled into her sopping lips. Each bubble of frothy spit spread easily between your cheeks and hers, squelching as you rubbed your face aggressively into her.
“Fucking love that, huh?,” Kazuha laughed, the domina leaving her chest as shooking your head and face left and right, no other thought than her oral-induced orgasm.
“Fuck,” she whispered your name, “I’m so close, just like that–”
You pushed into her, trying to get her climax to happen (and free you from her ironclad grasp), but she howled while she held you still and choked. The only way out was through, and you licked, even when the only thing that could move was the top of your tongue. Each graze of it against her swollen bud made her yelp; her whole body trembled as you did, simultaneously chasing after and fighting against her collapse.
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming, ohh fuck!,” Kazuha whined, feeling her thighs and hips tremble at the touch of your tongue. The ringing around your ears fuzzed up your vision; there was only one thing you could sense left, and it was Kazuha, all of her.
“Cuhm,” you muffled into her, taking a deep breath and sucking her clit one last time, until the rigid surface of your tongue could graze all of her clit. One last tight grope of your scalp was the only signal you needed.
Kazuha let go of you as she raised her hip in the air sharply, everything in her trembling. It was like she was possessed, overcome by some primal spirit in her that urged her to groan with every twitch. Your head lay close to the bed, watching drops of her release drip onto the towel you set earlier and onto your cheeks and nose. You lapped them as they streaked down into your mouth, oozing out of her hole in a stream.
Slowly Kazuha came back down to your grasp, and you greeted her with a flurry of kisses around the inside of her thighs and her drenched, spunky pussy lips. Even then, with every cold contact of lips on squirt, she twitched until your chin dripped as much as she did.
She pulled you by the hair, pained as it was, to greet her lips with yours. She licked your face clean, tasting the fluid concoction of spit and squirt shared between your mouths. You savored every salty, tangy, sharp note; she did too, licking her lips with pride all over it.
“You’re so… so good at that,” Kazuha grinned, nuzzling her sweaty head onto your equally sweaty neck.
“Of course,” you sighed, running your hand along her long, still silky hair. “I love the taste of you.”
RUKA
With Ruka, you were fed, taking all of her in a single go – or rather, you were devoured all at once.
“Are you ready?,” Ruka giggled, looking down as she hovered over you. Her knees shuffled closer to your temples, while her hands ran up her waist and up her neck. Honestly, just watching her with her body made you twitch, but it was your anticipation that made you hard.
You craned your neck up to meet her clit before it fell upon you, and Ruka let out a pleased sigh. “Of course I’m ready,” you smirked.
In one go, Ruka dropped herself on you, not gently but with actual force. Your head and her entire body bounced against the creaking of your bed, and though you laughed with the slightest adrenaline rush ready to push her off, she caught your wrists and trapped them under her knees.
You pushed hard with your neck, your arms, even your torso, but Ruka smothered your face with her folds. With each thrust of her hips against the ridges of your head came heaves of ecstasy. She rode hard, even if slow, and each drag literally cut off your breath as she went over the entirety of your nose and mouth.
“Mmph, so fuckim goob,” you mumbled, sucking her folds in and forcing the tender tip of her clit out and onto your tongue. Your tongue scooped past it, tasting the sharper, warmer fluids inside her coat the top and bottom of the tip of your tongue.
In response, Ruka pulled your hair up and sank your face deeper into her – as if pulling you up could send you any deeper into her.
“You’re so fucking good, f–fuck,” she gasped. She would lurch forward in jolts of pleasure that appeared like signs of letting up, but not a chance – her grip stayed tight, on your hair, your head, your hands.
Such was the hunt of a leopard: cautiously waiting for her prey, then grabbing you and pulling you in. She hissed, clawed, squeezed you and wrung you of whatever sex you could spare into your tongue and your tongue alone, and fed on you just as much as you fed on her. Only thing missing was a tree branch she could hang you on and gobble your cock on, but that’s a kink for another time.
You bent your head up to breathe, the only way you could force Ruka to give you a chance to; she at least gave you that. She’d pet your hair, wipe stray trails of your fluid cocktail away – or across – your nose. She knew you loved her smell, and you never complained.
In turn, you did the one thing Ruka couldn’t: pull her closer to you as she grew sensitive. Though her thighs remained plastered to your face, it was by your firm grasp that she had nowhere else to take her arousal other than your mouth. And even when she begged you to slow down, perhaps to savor each bump and ridge grazing against her clit, you clearly wanted the opposite – to feel her drip and squirt all over you until it glazed your cheeks.
“Are you close, baby?,” you gasped, sinking your lips into her folds again, tongue pushed deep into her warmth. Ruka let out an obscene, guttural grunt, coupled with a laugh of shock – and these were not signs of goodwill.
“Oho, I’m gonna fucking cum all over your smug fucking face,” she taunted, all curves on her face slicing into you like guillotines.
In for the kill, Ruka let you go. She turned around, ass above your eyes and whole shins on your whole forearms, and sat back on you. The waft of the funkier-than-usual air meant nothing when your tongue was now buried deeper inside her. You kept at it, tongue swirling in slow, strained circles, because it was the only thing you could do in her clawed grasp.
Ruka, on the other hand, made you want to bury yourself deeper, not that you didn’t already, but motivating you to keep going. She held you by the sides with clawed fingers, the dread of the ticklish sensation one has from getting poked keeping you on edge. You felt beads of sweat and spit – only differentiated by viscosity – drip onto your chest, and trail closer to your erect cock as she hovered right over it, . You wrung your hands free and clung to her ankles; it did nothing to slow her.
“That’s it, yeah,” she laughed, riding your face with gusto. Her thighs clamped on your ears. You were basically in darkness darker than the dark room, eclipsed by her firm ass and drenched pussy turning your face into her perfect little ribbed toy.
You tightened your grip, even bringing them up and grabbing the whole meat of her thigh from below. Her hands snaked to her asscheeks, sliding down into your hair and pulling you in tighter. At this point she may have fully absorbed you into her with each newton coursed through your strained follicles – and you weren’t complaining.
“Hah, hah, fuck,” Ruka heaved, confident chuckles slowly undoing into deeper moans. Each groan turned into a yelp, every other yelp turned into a howl, and the slow-but-hard grinding became the fast-and-frantic frenzy you craved. Your nosebridge and your lips ceased to be anything beyond the topological features with which Ruka’s cunt craved the stimulation of pressure.
And like a pair of jaws closing in, her legs raised her torso with its own strength, the muscle flexing and squeezing your ears to your skull.
All that was left – the lone thing that could be done – was to beg her to sink into you.
“Cuhm,” you blubbered into her with a guttural groan. With one last burst of energy, you freed your hands and climbed up against her thighs, pulling yourself to meet her sopping wet folds as they trembled with the full twitching of her lower half.
Ruka flicked her clit about as she rode out her orgasm with your face, the stimulation forcing out a light sprinkling of her squirt – a rarity for moments of extreme arousal, only ever climaxing in this manner by your own hand. Yet every droplet on your forehead, your tongue, your cheeks was undeniably hers.
Ruka fell to the side with a creaky thud on the bed, the beast in her satiated and ready to digest. She giggled as she stared at you, also on your back and drenched in more than sweat.
“You’re so good at this,” she sighed, her smile softening from thrill to wonder.
“Of course,” you sighed, reaching out for her hand to rub it gently. “I love the taste of you.”
KAZUHA + RUKA
Don’t get it mixed up: jaguars and leopards are very different big cats. Jaguars hunt, leopards ambush, both . Kazuha and Ruka made that distinction evidently clear. But when clad in black, they’re both black panthers – and like their feline analogues, they attack together.
“Think he’s ready?,” Kazuha smirked, petting your head between her womb and Ruka’s, moaning as Ruka’s fingertip grazed gently against her clit still enclosed in her black panties.
“Of course he is,” Ruka exhaled excitedly, already moist and aroused as you planted kiss after kiss on the fabric. She pushed your face into what was the smooth surface of her pubis, trapping your nose and halting your breath; when she let go and you gasped for air, the pair giggled.
“What was that?,” Kazuha taunted, turning your head towards her hips – equally smooth, equally hot, equally aroused – and pushed you in deep. You could count every second she intended to keep you in: three seconds, five seconds, ten. You groaned as you struggled, but it only made them chase after your tongue harder.
Ruka ran a hand up Kazuha’s abdomen, her pointer finger tracing its toned ridges; merely watching her nail depress against the paper thin layer of fat against her curves almost had you dizzy from the blood rushing to your cock. To watch Kazuha do the same with her fingertips across Ruka’s abdomen had you frenzied, desperate. You shoved a hand into your boxers; Ruka skillfully pulled the garter of your shorts down between her toes, forcing your barbaric display of arousal into public view.
Kazuha pressed your dick onto your groin and away from your hands. “You’ll have your turn, baby,” she teased, and you clenched your fists against your thighs in submission. There were no words necessary from your mouth – your tongue, lips, and breath belonged elsewhere.
You gently worked the cloths away from their cores, peeling them off to the sting of evaporating arousal against your nose. You knew, from the first time they asked you to do exactly this – eat them out together instead of individually – that the anticipation and the spectacle was what they wanted. Not of your face drenched in their liquids – in reality, it was the fingers on abs and clits, the passing around of your head, bearing witness to the other undone.
You went for Ruka first, sucking her pussy hard and flicking her clit with the tip of your tongue from left to right; she ran a hand into your hair, grabbing hard and thrusting her hips into your face, like an actual proper facefucking. Kazuha giggle as she watched, her fingers tauntingly brushing around your earlobe and down the ridge behind your jaw. The traced line made you shudder.
“F-fuck, he’s s-so good at this,” Ruka gasped, eyes shut as she craned her neck up. Kazuha leaned in and left light, smackless kisses, only working to elevate Ruka’s arousal.
You paused to catch your breath, looking over at Kazuha’s folds, glistening with her arousal. You could have caught yourself, mouth wide open and silently begging, but a light slap her way cut your arousal-fueled haze short.
“I’ll have my turn too, baby,” Kazuha chuckled, rubbing the spot she patted you on, before shoving your head back into Ruka. Ruka yelped the moment you crashed into her.
Again you lapped at Ruka, the flavor of her coating the inside of your cheeks. She hollered and buckled as you licked up against her clit, already straining your tongue but fully focused on savoring more and more of her.
Then Ruka pushed you off, and shoved you into Kazuha, shocking her with a short laugh.
“Hah, you’re not… gonna make me cum that… quickly, baby,” Ruka leaned over and whispered into your hair. “Fucking eat her out. I know you wanted her so bad.”
“Y-yes,” you and Kazuha groaned together, prompting the two ladies to laugh. You wrapped your arms around Kazuha’s thick flexed thighs, feeling the muscle tense and pulse as you used your bottom lip to pinch her clit. Looking up, you watched them as they admired each other’s dainty, well-nestled breasts, hands straying over arms and abs, groping asses and tits in handfuls. You were dizzy as your cock pulsed in yearning excitement.
Kazuha’s normally sly smile had relaxed agape. It was now Ruka who licked and held her head in one hand and yours in another, pleased as Kazuha bit her lip to subdue her high-pitched squeals of climax.
“F-fuck, s-so– keep doing that,” Kazuha gasped, looking down at your with desperate eyes. She hummed as her yelps turned breathier and heavier, as if struggling to hold it all back.
“You’re so hot,” Ruka scratched your head, “I love watching you eat her out.” She looked at Kazuha. “And you look so hot when you’re ready to cum.”
“Mmmh!,” Kazuha pressed her lips together, hurriedly pushing you away and into Ruka. She trembled aggressively, her face contorted, pained from the aggressive denial. She looked at Ruka for a full heartbeat, and sank her lips into hers, and the way her hands grabbed Ruka’s face gave away the exact state of mind she was in. You took it upon yourself to meet Ruka as well, digging into her with your mouth, hands wrapped around her legs tightly.
Ruka moaned into Kazuha’s mouth as hands shifted places: Kazuha grabbed Ruka’s breast with one and pulled her in with another, while Ruka had a hand past you and on Kazuha’s clit, the other pulling you in. As earlier, the tides shifted with you joining Kazuha to work Ruka, the way you joined Ruka earlier.
The taste in your mouth was now an entirely different mixture, a unique flavor that can only be had in your unique situation: the liquid nectar of two very horny, very beautiful ladies desperate for a muscle that wasn’t your cock, mixing together with the copious salivation of your own hunger.
“Sh-shit,” groaned Ruka, legs now trembling. She began to crouch, allowing you to dig deeper into her core, tasting the same sharp taste from the smooth, slimy flesh inside her. She pulled on your head with both hands, barely managing to use her concentration to hold her grasp on you as her barriers collapsed.
“Wahn youhr cuhm,” you mumbled. “Wahn bohf of you–,” you let go of her, “want both of you to cum on me, please.”
Moans turned into giggles in a snap.
Kazuha pulled you in, Ruka fingering her and herself, as you made full licks, from root to tip of your tongue, against Kazuha’s swollen core. It was starting to drip on your shoulder and down her thighs, but you kept at it. Kazuha’s squealing returned once again, her legs trembling just as hard, and with one final grip of her thighs, she shook violently. You felt the thick, creamy liquid ooze out slowly, lapping as much as you could and swallowing it all, before shifting to Ruka.
With Ruka, Kazuha focused more on stopping herself, slapping her own pussy lips more aggressively, trying her best not to collapse too quickly. With all your focus, you grabbed Ruka again, already very wet and howling, rubbing your entire face, nose and all, against her lips. She jolted hard – once, then twice – before letting out one last, heavy groan that strained against her throat.
And finally, the end of the frenzy.
The two grabbed your hair with one hand each, the other aggressively swiping their fingers against their reddened lips. They locked their upper lips while they did, moaning all manner of high-pitched profanities into each other, not so much kissing but syncing their shared climax together. You excitedly waited for it all, still half-sitting on the floor and stroking your very erect cock with all the spit and goop that had dripped onto your groin. And, for good, entertaining measure, you stuck your tongue out.
Kazuha and Ruka squirted all over your face, the liquid stinging as it splashed onto your cheeks, your tongue, your lips, and all over your chest. They moaned one after the other in symphony, roaring at the intense overstimulation they brought themselves to. Their fingers were coated in a cloudy white that you wished to yourself they’d shove into your mouth, and they did without you needing to ask. You swallowed it all, feeling the minuscule dollops fill your gut.
The liquid orgasm, the erotic feast you partook in kept you stroking, bucking your hips forward, your face contorting like they would as they hungered over your cum. They knelt down to your level as they caught their breath, hands wandering all over you as you jerked yourself off to your climax.
“Cum for us,” Ruka begged, hands slippery with your shared liquids.
“We want it,” Kazuha smiled, licking her lips for your arousal. You knew what was coming, and they knew it too.
You spurted all over your hands, squelching in between your fingers. The two were quick to share your hand, tasting your own release – and theirs – all over their own tongues. You watched them savor it with glee, humming and giggling, as you laid down in exhaustion, breathing in while you still could.
The girls looked at each other, not pleased, but excited.
“Ready?,” Kazuha taunted you, lying down on her stomach, mouth now just a breath away from your still drenched cock.
“Feeding time,” Ruka grinned, grabbing your base gently.
Don’t forget: you were never the predator here. You were always going to be their prey.
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