#idle

[kri5wb]

working this tiny cozy aquarium game that sits at the bottom of your screen while you work, study etc!

it's talled Tiny Aquarium

🐟 fish grow when you're offline 🐠 breed of 70 species of fishy friends 🦀 crabs 🏰 decorate your fish tank 💖 visit your friend's aquariums

we just released our first demo and would love to hear your feedback https://store.steampowered.com/app/2581950/Tiny_Aquarium_Social_Fishkeeping/

[queencardblog]

I-DLE icons 🖤

[clutterchup]

[authorhjk1]

Three Flowers

(Xinyu X Tzuyu X Shuhua X Nien X Male Reader) Wordcount: 15045 words

(Author's note: Thanks for @jmuns-kpop and @azelfty for hosting this prompt. Because of amazing feedback from other writers and my own enjoyment while writing this, a second part will be guaranteed, even if it takes hal a year.)

You sit in the shaded audience hall of your seaside estate in Xiamen. The morning sun slants through carved wooden screens. Before you lies a low rosewood table covered in scrolls and bamboo slips. Tax reports from the newly settled villages around Tainan, manifests of rice and silk arriving from the harbor, petitions from local Fujianese merchants begging for lower duties on Taiwan goods. Your brush moves without a pause, marking approvals and corrections in black ink. The air smells of sandalwood incense and distant salt.

Outside the open doors, the training ground rings with disciplining shouts. Your Green Standard troops drill in neat squares, spears thrusting in unison, bows drawn and released with sharp twangs, officers barking corrections. The red-and-gold banner with your coiled dragon, wave, and crossed sword-anchor symbol snaps overhead in the sea breeze. You glance up now and then to watch the formations shift, satisfied with the crispness after months of Penghu blood and sweat.

A young servant boy - barely sixteen, one of the new household additions - bursts through the side door, sandals slapping against stone. He drops to his knees so quickly his forehead nearly kisses the floor.

“General!”

His voice cracks with haste.

“Lady Xinyu bids you come at once to her chambers. She says the matter is urgent and cannot wait.”

You set the brush down. The ink bead trembles on the tip, then falls. Urgent from Xinyu is never trivial. You rise, robe whispering against the mat.

The boy scrambles ahead. You stride through the middle courtyards, past lotus ponds where carp glide beneath lily pads, past the private theater where musicians sometimes play at dusk, then through the moon gate into the women’s quarters. The garden here is quieter, jasmine heavy in the air, silk lanterns swaying gently even though it is still daylight.

Xinyu’s pavilion stands at the center. It’s the largest and most ornate. Red-lacquered pillars, silk curtains the color of ripe persimmons, carved peonies climbing the screens. Already a small crowd has gathered on the stone path outside. Maids in plain blue ao stand with lowered eyes. Your chief steward hovers nearby, hands clasped behind his back. And then there are the three of them.

Tzuyu waits closest to the door. Her posture is perfect, hands folded inside wide pale blue sleeves. Her long hair is pinned with a single jade hairpin shaped like an orchid. The silk of her robe catches the light so it shimmers like water. She meets your gaze for only a heartbeat before looking down again. She looks elegant, composed, yet you know the quick pulse at her throat betrays her.

Shuhua stands a step behind, arms crossed loosely under her chest so the vibrant green silk pulls taut across her figure. A small smirk plays at the corner of her mouth, but her eyes are sharp and watchful. She has added a thin silver chain with a tiny shell pendant around her neck. Something she brought from the island.

Nien casually leans against a pillar, in soft peach silk, sleeves rolled to her elbows as though she was in the middle of some light chore when the summons came. She twirls a jasmine blossom between her fingers, but the playful tilt of her head does not hide the way her gaze flicks between you and the closed doors of Xinyu’s chamber.

The steward bows low as you approach.

“General.”

You nod once. The crowd parts. You push the curtain aside and step into Xinyu’s receiving room.

The space is warm, perfumed with aloeswood and a faint trace of medicinal herbs. Xinyu sits on the low platform bed, back straight despite the slight curve already visible beneath her loose rose-pink robe. Her hands rest in her lap with her fingers laced. She looks up at you and, for the first time in weeks, there is no carefully schooled calm on her face. Only quiet, radiant certainty. Behind you the three concubines enter in single file, silent, each taking a place along the wall. Tzuyu to your left, Shuhua to your right, Nien nearer the door. The maids withdraw, letting the heavy curtain fall.

Xinyu draws a slow breath.

“My lord, this morning the physician confirmed it. I carry your child.”

The words drop into the room like a stone into still water. You feel the shift in the air at once. The way Tzuyu’s breath catches, the way Shuhua’s smirk vanishes, the way Nien’s fingers still on the jasmine blossom until the petals bruise. Xinyu’s gaze moves past you to the three younger women. Her expression is gentle, almost kind, but there is steel beneath it.

“The household will rejoice.”

She continues softly.

“But the child will need brothers and sisters to strengthen our line. I trust my lord will see to that duty… in due time.”

She looks back at you, eyes shining.

The evening arrives with the slow fade of sunset over the harbor, turning the sea into molten gold. Lanterns are lit along every path and pavilion, their warm glow pushing back the creeping darkness. In the grand banquet hall, long tables are set with lacquered trays. Steamed abalone glistening in ginger soy, crisp-skinned duck glazed with honey, platters of fresh crab from the morning boats, bowls of fragrant rice studded with lotus seeds, and delicate sweets shaped like peaches, symbols of longevity and fertility.

You sit at the head of the main table, Xinyu to your immediate left. Her rose-pink robe has been changed for one of deeper crimson silk. The wide sleeves are embroidered with subtle phoenixes that rise as she gestures. She looks radiant, the faint curve of her belly hidden but somehow announced by the way she carries herself. To your right sit the three concubines in careful order: Tzuyu closest, then Shuhua, then Nien. Tzuyu’s pale blue silk falls in perfect folds, her movements careful. Shuhua’s vibrant green catches the lantern light every time she leans forward. Nien’s soft peach seems almost to glow against her skin. They sit with the practiced grace of women who know they are watched.

A handful of guests fill the other seats. Two wealthy Fujianese merchants who supply your ships, a minor magistrate from the nearby prefecture, and Lady Wei, the wife of a coastal garrison commander. She’s sharp eyed, silver haired, and already deep in conversation with Xinyu about midwives and auspicious birth dates.

The congratulations begin almost immediately. Cups are raised again and again.

“To the General and Lady Xinyu. May the child be strong, wise, and bring endless prosperity!”

Xinyu inclines her head with perfect modesty, accepting each toast with a small smile. The women cluster around her, asking about cravings (none yet, but she jokes about sudden desires for Taiwanese mangoes), sharing remedies, laughing softly over old birthing tales. For this evening, at least, the household orbits her.

Your own conversations pull in a different direction. The merchant across from you leans in, voice low beneath the music of the pipa and erhu players in the corner.

“General, the new trade route from Tainan is open, but the pirate remnants still lurk near Penghu. If we could station another squadron-”

You nod, swirling wine in your cup.

“I’ve already drafted the request to Admiral Shi Lang. Two more junks with swivel guns should suffice. The Emperor wants steady rice flowing north before winter.”

The magistrate chimes in about tax exemptions for settlers willing to farm the interior. You listen, respond, commit details to memory. Politics and business weave through every sip and every bite.

Then the musicians shift tempo. A livelier melody rises. Strings get plucked in quick, playful runs. Nien sets her chopsticks down. Without a word she stands, smooth as water, and steps into the open space between tables. No one seems surprised. In households like yours, especially after a victory feast or good news, a concubine dancing is not unusual. It is entertainment, a display of grace, a way to honor the host. Nien moves as though the music has simply pulled her in.

Her peach silk flutters as she turns, arms lifting in slow arcs, wrists flicking like willow branches in wind. She spins once, twice. The hem rises just enough to show the delicate curve of her calves, then sinks low, one knee bending, head tilting back so her dark hair spills like ink. The lanterns catch every motion, turning her into flickering light and shadow.

You glance at her again and again. Her form is elegant and fluid, unmistakably inviting. The way her hips sway, the intended pause when she extends a hand toward the musicians as if offering herself to the melody…it is artful and practiced, but tonight it feels personal. Her eyes find yours once, twice, three times. Each meeting lasts only a heartbeat, yet in that look there is no coyness. It is direct. Hungry. A silent question.

You look away, toward Xinyu. She watches Nien with calm amusement, one hand resting lightly on her belly. Lady Wei says something. Xinyu laughs softly, then replies. There is no tightness in her shoulders, no flicker of irritation. The pregnancy has shifted something fundamental. Xinyu is no longer merely first among equals. She is the mother of the heir, the uncontested center. The three foreign concubines, beautiful as they are, suddenly seem less threatening. Almost decorative. The dance ends to polite applause. Nien returns to her seat, cheeks faintly flushed, breathing a little quicker. She does not look at you again, but you feel the weight of her earlier gaze lingering.

The evening stretches. More dishes arrive. lotus root stir-fried with pork, clear broth with fish maw, and more wine is poured. Guests begin to excuse themselves one by one. Lady Wei departs with effusive promises to send her best midwife. The merchants bow and leave with assurances of loyalty. The magistrate lingers longest, finishing a quiet discussion about harbor patrols.

Xinyu rises at last, graceful despite the hour.

“My lord, I will retire. The child demands rest.”

You stand and offer your arm. She takes it briefly, presses your hand once, then slips away toward her pavilion, maids trailing like shadows.

The hall empties slowly. Servants clear trays. Musicians pack their instruments. Only the last merchant remains, the one who spoke of pirates earlier. You walk him to the outer doors, sealing the final details of tomorrow’s orders. He bows deeply and then vanishes into the night.

Silence falls over your estate. You turn left toward the moon gate that leads to the inner garden. Halfway down the shadowed corridor, you round the corner.

Shuhua stands there. She leans against a red-lacquered pillar, arms folded loosely under her chest, the green silk of her robe catching the faint lantern light from the garden beyond. Her chin lifts when she sees you. She doesn’t say anything at first, but her face is in conflict with herself. A mischievous smile tugs at the corner of her lips, but her eyes are full of determination.

Shuhua straightens from the pillar as you approach, her arms unfolding slowly. The moon light catches the silver shell pendant at her throat, making it twinkle a little.

“My lord, I dislike seeing you walk these corridors alone at night. Must be tiring, carrying the weight of the household on your shoulders.”

You stop a few paces away.

“It’s a familiar burden.”

She tilts her head, studying you.

“The banquet was long. Everyone fawning over Lady Xinyu and her precious news. You barely touched your wine.”

“I had business to attend.”

A small laugh escapes her.

“Always business.”

She pushes off the pillar and takes one step closer.

“Did you like Nien’s dance at least? She moves like she’s trying to remind everyone she exists.”

You don’t answer immediately. Shuhua’s eyes narrow, pleased by your silence.

“She’s sweet.”

You say at last.

“Sweet.”

Shuhua echoes, rolling the word like it tastes sour.

“How boring. You must be starving for something with bite.”

The air between you thickens. She closes the last distance, stopping so close you can smell the faint jasmine oil she favors. Something she brought from the island, stubborn and defiant against the mainland scents of the estate.

“Walk with me.”

Not a question.

She turns without waiting, green silk whispering as she moves down the moonlit path toward her pavilion. You follow. The garden is quiet. Only the distant lap of waves against the harbor and the occasional rustle of leaves break the silence. At her door she pauses, glancing back over her shoulder.

“You’re still here. Good boy.”

You raise an eyebrow at her attitude, but it’s not unfamiliar anymore.

Inside, the room is smaller than Xinyu’s but brighter. The lanterns hang low, casting warm pools of light across silk screens painted with crashing waves and distant islands. A low bed dominates the center, piled with embroidered cushions and a thin quilt the color of young bamboo.

Shuhua doesn’t hesitate. She turns, places both hands flat on your chest, and shoves. You fall back onto the bed, the mattress yielding under your weight. Before you can sit up she’s on you, straddling your hips, knees bracketing your thighs. Her robe parts at the front just enough to show the smooth line of her collarbone and the dip of her breasts beneath thin silk.

“You didn’t look at me all evening. Every time Nien spun, your eyes were on her. But you’re mine now.”

Her breath is warm against your skin. You slide your hands up her thighs, feeling the heat of her through the fabric. She shivers once, then presses harder into your lap.

“Not slow tonight. Never slow with me. You know that.”

She starts with kisses. Quick, hungry ones across your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. Then she finds your neck. Her teeth graze just enough to sting before she sucks a mark there. Her hips roll in a slow, heavy grind, pressing her heat against the growing hardness beneath your robes. Your hands move higher, cupping the firm curve of her ass through the thin silk. The fabric is slippery, barely a barrier. You squeeze. She gasps softly against your throat, then bites down again, sharper this time.

“Good. Touch me like you mean it.”

One hand leaves your neck. She reaches between your bodies, deft fingers working the ties of your trousers open. Cool air hits your skin for only a second before her palm wraps around your cock.

“Look at you.”

She whispers, lips still at your ear, voice dropping lower.

“Already so hard for your bratty little island princess. You pretend to be so composed in that hall, but here? Here you’re just a man who wants to fuck me raw.”

She continues to stroke your cock with slow, teasing up-and-downs, then squeezes at the base.

“Say it.”

Her demand is soft, almost sweet.

“Tell me you want this. Tell me you’re going to ruin me tonight while your perfect wife sleeps with your heir safe inside her.”

Her hips rock forward again, grinding her clothed heat along your length. The friction is maddening. You grip her ass harder, pulling her down so she feels every inch of your dick pressing up against her. Shuhua laughs and leans in to kiss you properly this time, all teeth and hunger, no gentleness at all.

You flip her, rolling so Shuhua is suddenly beneath you. Her back hits the quilt with a soft thud. Her green silk robe fans out around her like a bed of grass, dark hair spilling across the embroidered cushions. She gasps once, surprised by your switch, then immediately tries to mask it with that familiar smirk. You brace yourself on one forearm beside her head, caging her in. Your free hand pins her wrists above her head.

“You’re being unusually annoying tonight.”

Shuhua blinks up at you, eyes wide and innocent for half a heartbeat before the mask cracks. She flutters her lashes.

“Me? Annyoing? I don’t know what you mean, my lord. I’m just… keeping you company after such a long day.”

You don’t smile. You don’t need to. You can see the calculation behind her wide-eyed act, the way her thighs shift restlessly beneath you. You don’t particularly care about the quiet tension that simmers between her and Xinyu. Petty jealousies, veiled barbs in the garden, the way the three concubines sometimes glance at your wife like she’s stolen something they never quite had. As long as they keep it away from you, let them claw at each other all they want. But tonight? Tonight she didn’t even give you the chance to choose whose pavilion you’d visit. She ambushed you in the corridor, dragged you here without a word of invitation or permission. You can put two and two together.

You lean closer, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“I don’t care what games you play with Xinyu. But when it comes to me? Be a good woman. Look pretty. Stay quiet.”

Shuhua’s breath hitches. Then she laughs, clearly defiant, the sound vibrating against your chest.

“Quiet?”

She whispers back.

“That’s no fun. That’s what Tzuyu does. You like it when I talk back. Admit it.”

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you shift your weight, turning her over so she’s on her stomach beneath you. She lets out a startled huff, palms pressing into the quilt as she tries to push up. You plant a hand between her shoulder blades, applying pressure. Your other hand finds the hem of her robe. You drag it up, bunching the silk at her waist until her lower half is completely bare to the lamplight. The curve of her ass, the smooth dip of her spine, the faint sheen of arousal already glistening between her thighs…it’s all exposed. You settle behind her, knees bracketing her hips. Your cock, still hard from her earlier teasing, nudges against her entrance. You lean down, chest pressing along her back, mouth at her ear again.

“The only thing you need to know tonight is how to take my cock.”

Shuhua opens her mouth, probably to fire off another bratty retort. But you don’t give her the chance. You push in with one steady thrust. She chokes on whatever words were coming, body arching sharply beneath you. A raw, broken sound escapes her - half moan, half gasp - as you sink deep, stretching her open in one go. Her walls clench wildly around your length, hot and slick and greedy despite her earlier bravado. You don’t pause. You pull back almost to the tip, then drive in again, harder this time, hips snapping forward. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the pavilion, louder than the distant waves outside. Shuhua’s fingers claw at the quilt. Her cheek presses into the cushion, mouth open, breaths coming in short, ragged bursts. Every thrust rocks her forward, every withdrawal drags a whimper from her throat. You keep the rhythm steady, just like she would if she were on top: deep, punishing, no gentleness. One hand slides up to grip her hip, holding her exactly where you want her. The other tangles in her hair so she can’t hide her face. She tries to speak again, but it dissolves into a moan when you angle your hips and hit that spot inside her that makes her whole body tremble. You lean down once more, lips grazing the nape of her neck.

“Quiet.”

You remind her.

“Pretty and quiet.”

She shudders beneath you, walls clenching hard around your cock. But she doesn’t talk back. At least not yet.

You keep the rhythm harsh, each thrust slamming deep, hips colliding with the soft curve of her ass in sharp, punishing slaps that echo through the small pavilion. The bed frame creaks under the force. The quilt bunches beneath her fists. Shuhua’s earlier pretense of quiet vanishes entirely. Instead, she moans. Loud, unrestrained, throatier than you’ve ever heard from her. The sounds spill out raw, carrying through the thin silk screens and into the garden beyond.

She wants the whole estate to hear. Every cry is pitched just right, high enough to pierce the night, drawn out enough to linger. It’s not pleasure alone, it’s performance. A declaration.

“This is me. This is who he’s choosing tonight. This could be the one who carries his next child.”

Your hand shoots forward, clamping over her mouth. Your palm seals tight against her lips, fingers pressing her cheek into the cushion.

“Quiet.”

Shuhua’s eyes flash. She doesn’t obey. Instead, she bites down hard enough to sting, teeth sinking into the meat of your palm. You hiss through your teeth but don’t pull away. She twists her head just enough to speak around your fingers, voice muffled but dripping with bratty triumph.

“Mmph-make me.”

She manages, the words fractured by another loud, broken moan as you drive in particularly deep.

That’s enough. You decide she doesn’t get to keep that smug little voice tonight. You pull your hand free only to slide it down, fingers wrapping around the slender column of her throat. Not choking…yet. Just firm enough to feel her pulse hammering against your palm. You give a light squeeze, then another, timing them with your thrusts. Each press makes her cough, short, startled gasps that cut off her moans mid-note. Her walls spasm around your cock in response, slick and clenching like she can’t decide whether to fight or surrender.

You pound harder. Relentless. No pause, no mercy. The wet slap of skin on skin grows louder and faster. Your hips snap forward with bruising force, burying yourself to the hilt every time, grinding against her cervix until her whole body jolts. Shuhua’s moans fracture completely, reduced to choked whimpers, then to breathless little ah-ah-ah sounds that can’t quite form words anymore. Her nails rake the quilt. Her back arches sharply, trying to take you deeper even as her lungs fight for air. You feel the heat coiling low in your gut, the telltale tightening. Your rhythm stutters for half a second as you chase the edge. Shuhua feels it too. Her body knows exactly what’s coming. She tries to speak again, voice wrecked and trembling, forcing innocence into the words even as her hips push back desperately against you.

“Please… fill me.”

She whispers, soft and sweet like she’s begging for a favor.

“Inside… please, my lord…”

You see straight through it. The wide eyes, the trembling lower lip, the way she clenches around you like she’s trying to milk you dry...She wants your seed. Wants the chance to swell like Xinyu, to claim the one thing your wife already has secured. After tonight’s attitude - the corridor ambush, the loud moans meant to taunt the entire household - you’re not in the mood to reward her.

No. When the pressure builds to breaking, you pull out quickly enough. Shuhua lets out a sharp, disappointed whine, cut short as you stroke yourself twice and spill across her ass. Thick ropes of cum paint her skin in hot streaks, dripping down the curve of her cheeks and pooling in the small of her back. She trembles beneath you, thighs shaking, breath ragged.

You release her throat. She coughs once, twice, then goes still.

For a long moment there’s only the sound of both of you breathing. Shuhua doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Her face is half-buried in the cushion, hair tangled, cheeks flushed dark. The disappointment is plain in the way her shoulders slump, the way her hips twitch once like she’s still hoping you’ll push back in. But she doesn’t dare say it. She doesn’t dare ask why you didn’t finish inside her. She just lies there - marked, used, unsatisfied - while the night outside stays quiet, as if the rest of the estate never heard a thing.

Eight days later, the morning sun filters softly through the carved wooden screens of the garden pavilion. The air carries the fresh scent of sea breeze mixed with jasmine from the nearby bushes. Servants move quietly, setting out steaming bowls of congee topped with pickled vegetables, fresh steamed buns, salted fish, and fragrant tea brewed with Taiwanese herbs. Xinyu is absent this morning. A maid quietly mentioned that the lady woke with mild nausea and chose to rest in her chambers. No one questions it. Pregnancy has its demands.

You sit at the head of the low table. To your right, in their usual order: Tzuyu closest, then Shuhua, then Nien. All three wear light morning robes.

The conversation flows easily, as it always does at these meals. Nien chatters about a new shipment of mangoes that arrived from the island yesterday.

“They’re so sweet this season, my lord. Much better than the ones we get here in Xiamen.”

Shuhua laughs and teases her gently.

“You say that every time a ship docks. One would think you’ve never tasted mainland fruit before.”

Tzuyu adds a soft comment about the weather and how the garden lotus flowers are beginning to bloom. She serves you a perfectly steamed bun with her usual grace, placing it on your plate without drawing attention to herself.

You eat steadily, nodding at their words, but your mind keeps drifting back to last night.

Tzuyu’s pavilion. The way her long legs wrapped around you, her quiet gasps turning into soft cries as you filled her twice. Two creampies that left her belly slightly swollen with your seed by the time you left her bed. The memory is still vivid: her elegant face flushed, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction, whispering your title like a prayer while her body trembled around you.

You glance at her now. Tzuyu catches your eye for a brief moment, a faint blush coloring her cheeks before she looks down at her bowl. You wonder silently what would happen if Xinyu gives birth to a daughter… while Tzuyu, after last night, carries your son. The first male heir coming from one of the Taiwanese concubines instead of the principal wife. The shift in power, the whispers among the servants, the way the household balance would tilt…You picture Xinyu’s face. That carefully controlled expression cracking into agitation and quiet fury. The drama that would ripple through the inner quarters, the three girls suddenly competing even harder. The thought amuses you. A low chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop it.

At that exact moment, Shuhua is in the middle of telling a light, exaggerated story about one of the kitchen maids mistaking a crab for a sea monster during yesterday’s market trip. Her delivery is sharp and funny, the timing perfect. Everyone at the table turns toward you, assuming your laugh was for Shuhua’s tale.

Nien giggles.

“See? Even the General finds it amusing!”

Tzuyu smiles softly, though her eyes flicker with a hint of curiosity. Shuhua’s back straightens instantly. Her shoulders square with visible triumph, a small, satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. She usually doesn’t get open favor when all three of you are together. You keep things balanced to prevent open jealousy. But this morning, that chuckle lands squarely on her. She sits a little taller, her emerald robe shifting as she leans forward just enough to emphasize her figure.

“Thank you, my lord. I’m glad my silly story could brighten the morning.”

You don’t correct them. Instead, you take another sip of tea. Shuhua’s eyes sparkle with quiet victory, while Tzuyu lowers her gaze again, fingers tightening slightly around her chopsticks. Nien watches the exchange with open curiosity, popping a piece of fruit into her mouth. Conversation picks up once more around the table. You glance at Tzuyu one more time. She meets your eyes again, before looking away. The breakfast continues with the gentle clinking of porcelain. Nien is now telling a lively story about a mischievous monkey she once saw near the harbor in Tainan as a child, while Shuhua occasionally interjects with teasing remarks. Tzuyu eats quietly.

You set down your chopsticks and reach for the tray of letters next to you which is holding several folded papers sealed with wax or tied with silk threads. You take the tray and begin sorting through them one by one while the girls continue eating and talking around you. The first is a routine report from one of your merchants in Fuzhou: dull matters of silk prices and shipping delays. You scan it quickly and set it aside. The second is a polite note from the local magistrate, thanking you for the recent favor regarding harbor patrols. Nothing urgent. You unfold the third letter. The paper is fine, the handwriting elegant and careful. The seal belongs to a respected Han family from the Tainan region. Tzuyu’s parents, a merchant-official clan that had aligned itself with the Qing after the conquest. They address you with the proper respect due to a victorious general.

“Honored General,

We are overjoyed to hear of the great blessing that has been granted to your household - a child on the way. May Heaven continue to smile upon you and grant your line strength and prosperity for generations.”

“News travels fast.”

You murmur with an amused scoff. The three concubines glance up at you almost simultaneously. Tzuyu’s chopsticks pause mid-air. She must recognize her family’s seal Shuhua’s eyes narrow with interest. Nien tilts her head.

You continue reading. The tone shifts from polite congratulations to something more direct, as expected from ambitious parents who see their daughter as a bridge to greater favor.

“We humbly pray that you will also bestow the same blessing upon our daughter Tzuyu. She is dutiful, graceful, and eager to serve you fully. A son from her would bring even greater glory to your household and secure the bonds between our families. We entrust her completely to your wisdom and care.”

You lower the letter. Your eyes lift and meet Tzuyu’s across the table. She is watching you now, a faint flush creeping up her neck, probably able to guess what the letter of her parents includes. You remember last night vividly: the way she clung to you, the two thick loads you pumped deep inside her, her quiet moans as her body accepted every drop. The thought flickers through your mind again: what if Xinyu bears only a daughter… while Tzuyu is already carrying your son from last night? The potential drama makes the corner of your mouth twitch.

You set the letter down without further comment and pick up the fourth one. This one carries the official seal of Admiral Shi Lang’s command. The handwriting is brisk. You unfold it and scan the contents. It is an order.

“General,

Pirate remnants loyal to the old Zheng cause have grown bold again near Penghu and the southern Taiwan coast. They have raided three merchant junks in the past month and threaten the new settlement routes. You are commanded to take your squadron of ships and two hundred Green Standard troops to suppress these bandits. Depart within ten days. Stabilize the sea lanes and ensure safe passage for imperial trade.”

You read the key lines in silence, then fold the letter neatly and place it on the tray. You take another sip of tea, mind already turning to preparations. Ships to ready, troops to muster, supplies to organize. A campaign of several weeks, perhaps two or three months if the pirates prove slippery.

The morning sun climbs higher as breakfast ends. You leave the garden pavilion with the weight of the military order already pressing on your mind. Preparations for the campaign will take most of your upcoming days.

A few hours later, in a shaded pavilion overlooking the lotus pond, Xinyu sits across from Lady Wei, the wife of the coastal garrison commander who had attended the dinner the night she announced her pregnancy. They play a quiet game of Weiqi on a low rosewood board. Xinyu moves a white stone with elegant precision.

“Your defense is as sharp as ever, Lady Wei.”

The older woman chuckles, placing a black stone to surround a small group.

“One must stay vigilant, especially when new life is growing. How are you feeling this morning? The nausea has passed?”

“A little better. The physician says it is normal in the early months.”

Lady Wei nods knowingly, then adds with a light smile:

“A strong son will make all the discomfort worthwhile. The household will feel more secure once the heir is born.”

Xinyu’s fingers pause over the next stone. The word “son” lingers in the air. She had said the same thing to you many times. She is certain it is a boy. Yet the comment makes her think. She knows you have been spending your nights with the three Taiwanese concubines ever since the pregnancy was confirmed. It is expected, of course. A man of your status cannot be left wanting, and she herself had told you to seek siblings for the child. Still, the reality stings more than she cares to admit. Every morning she notices the faint marks on your neck, the way the girls glance at you with fresh satisfaction. What if one of them is already carrying? What if she gives you only a daughter while one of those island girls produces a son? Her position as principal wife is secure in name, but influence in the household is something else entirely. As the game continues, Xinyu turns the stones over in her mind. She should actively support one of the concubines in front of you. Better to guide the choice than let the competition spiral out of control. Tzuyu is quiet and reserved, but Xinyu suspects it might be a clever front. The girl could be far more calculating than she appears. Shuhua is too wild, too unpredictable. Her sharp tongue and bold nature would make her dangerous if she gained real power. Nien, though… Nien seems the safest. Cute, playful, loveable. She doesn’t scheme openly for status or influence. She simply enjoys attention and seems content with whatever affection she receives. A son from Nien would be easy to manage.

Just as Xinyu settles on that thought, she glances toward the main path and sees you walking toward the outer gates, already dressed for the day’s duties. Dark robe with a military sash, boots ready for the harbor. She excuses herself gracefully.

“Please continue without me for a moment, Lady Wei. I must speak with my husband before he leaves.”

Xinyu rises and walks over to you with slow steps, her crimson robe flowing around her still modest belly. You stop when you see her.

“Xinyu. Are you feeling better this morning?”

She smiles softly, placing a hand lightly over her abdomen.

“Much better, my lord. The boy is behaving himself today.”

You nod, eyes flicking to her hand.

“Good. Take care of yourself…and him.”

Xinyu hesitates only a moment, then speaks with careful subtlety.

“The girls have been attentive lately. Especially Nien. She has such a gentle, cheerful way about her. It brightens the household.”

You acknowledge the comment with a small hum, already thinking about the campaign preparations. Xinyu continues, making it a touch more obvious.

“She would make a fine companion for your nights while I rest. Playful and easy to please. I think you would enjoy her company more often.”

You raise an eyebrow, finally catching the suggestion.

“Nien?”

Xinyu meets your gaze.

“Yes. She seems the least likely to cause unnecessary trouble. A good choice for now.”

You study her for a beat, then nod once.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She smiles again, satisfied that the seed has been planted.

“Go safely with your preparations today. The household will be waiting for your return.”

You bid her farewell and continue toward the gates. Once you are out of sight, Xinyu stands still for a moment, then turns to a waiting maid. She knows your weaknesses well. You can be firm with troops and merchants, but when it comes to the four women in your life, you sometimes let things flow too easily without seeing the undercurrents.

“Call for Nien. Tell her I have a small errand for her in the Xiamen market. She should fetch some fresh Taiwanese mangoes and herbs for my tea. Make sure she leaves soon.”

The maid bows and hurries off.

The midday sun beats down on the bustling Xiamen docks, turning the sea into a glittering expanse of blue. You stand on the raised deck of one of your junks, overseeing the final preparations for the upcoming campaign. Sailors and soldiers swarm the ships, loading barrels of fresh water, crates of dried provisions, bundles of arrows, and extra matchlock muskets. Officers shout orders while carpenters hammer reinforcements onto the hulls. The air smells of salt, tar, fish, and sweat.

You gesture to one of your lieutenants, pointing at a list on a bamboo scroll.

“Double the rice stores. We may be out for two months if the pirates scatter into the smaller islands.”

While the man nods and hurries off, your eyes drift across the crowded waterfront market that sprawls along the docks. Merchants hawk goods straight from newly arrived ships: bolts of silk, crates of tea, Taiwanese fruits, and baskets of wriggling seafood. Fishermen call out their morning catches, their voices blending into the lively chaos.

Then you spot her. Nien moves through the crowd with a small group of maids trailing behind. She wears a simple but pretty peach-colored robe suitable for an outing with subtle floral embroidery that catches the sunlight. Her dark hair is loosely pinned with a few fresh flowers, and her face glows with genuine delight as she examines a stand piled high with ripe mangoes and exotic herbs. She laughs at something one of the maids says, her smile bright and carefree, completely at ease in the noisy market.

You watch her for a moment from your higher vantage point. She looks beautiful, youthful, playful, radiating that innocent charm that always seems to lighten the mood. For a few heartbeats you simply enjoy the sight, the way she tilts her head, the gentle sway of her robe as she reaches for a piece of fruit. Then you remember Xinyu’s words from earlier.

“…Nien. She seems the least likely to cause unnecessary trouble. A good choice for now.”

You hesitate, fingers tightening around the railing. It is broad daylight. You are in the middle of important preparations. Usually, you do not ask for such things so directly, especially not outside the privacy of the estate. And Nien… she is always so bright and cheerful, almost too pure for the kind of raw hunger stirring in you right now. Taking her in some semi-private corner of the market feels almost sinful. Like treating her like a common dockside whore instead of one of your cherished concubines. But the order to depart in ten days hangs over you. The campaign will keep you away for weeks, maybe months. And Xinyu herself planted the suggestion.

You descend the gangplank and stride into the crowded market, your military sash and commanding presence causing people to part instinctively. Merchants bow quickly as you pass. Your eyes stay fixed on Nien. She is standing at a merchant’s stall, happily bargaining over a bundle of fresh Taiwanese herbs when you approach from behind. One of her maids notices you first and quickly bows. Nien turns, and her face lights up with a bright, surprised smile.

“My lord! A wonderful coincidence!”

You nod, suddenly unsure how to steer the conversation. The usual elegance of the inner quarters feels far away in this noisy, public place. Nien tilts her head, still smiling that sunny, innocent smile.

“The mangoes are especially sweet today. Would you like me to pick some for the journey?”

You look at her.  At the way her eyes sparkle, the soft curve of her lips, the way her robe clings lightly to her figure in the sea breeze. Xinyu’s suggestion echoes again in your ear. For a moment the contrast hits you hard. She looks so cheerful and lovable standing here among the common people. It almost feels wrong to pull her away for something so base in the middle of the day.

Yet the hunger wins. You step closer, voice dropping so only she can hear.

“Nien… come with me for a moment.”

She blinks, still smiling, though a flicker of curiosity enters her eyes.

“Of course, my lord. Where to?”

You glance around quickly. The market is crowded, but you know this waterfront well. There is a large merchant warehouse belonging to one of your loyal suppliers just a short walk away. The upper floor has private rooms used for business negotiations, and the owner would never dare question your presence.

You gesture subtly in that direction.

“Follow me. Quietly.”

Nien hands the bundle of herbs to one of her maids with a quick instruction to continue shopping, then falls into step beside you. As you lead her through the crowd toward the warehouse, the sinful contrast lingers in your mind. She chatters lightly about the market finds, completely unaware of what you have in mind, while you feel the growing heat of anticipation. The warehouse door looms ahead. A quick word to the guard at the entrance, and he bows, clearing the way without a single question. The heavy warehouse door slides shut behind you with a solid thud, cutting off the noisy clamor of the market and the sharp smell of fish and salt air. In the sudden quiet, the only thing left is Nien. Her soft, feminine scent hits you immediately. Warm skin, faint jasmine from her hair, and that sweet, light perfume she always wears, mixed with the faint tropical sweetness of the mangoes she had been handling. It floods your senses and triggers a rush of memories. Her giggles in the dark, the way her body arches so willingly beneath you, the soft little sounds she makes when you’re gentle with her.

Your lust surges hard and fast, climbing with every step you take deeper into the dim corridor. You never make it to the private room upstairs. Two steps in, you lightly shove her against a tall stack of wooden crates and barrels. Nien’s back meets the wood with a soft gasp. Her eyes widen in surprise. The playful sparkle is replaced by genuine shock.

“My lord…?”

She stutters, voice small.

“Are you alright?”

You don’t answer with words at first. Your mouth is already on her neck, lips pressing hot against that sensitive spot just below her ear. The one you know makes her knees weak. You kiss, then suck gently, tasting her skin. Nien melts instantly. A shaky breath escapes her. Her hands come up to clutch at your robe, but she still tries to hold onto some dignity.

“W-wait… my lord.”

She whispers, voice trembling even as her head tilts to give you better access.

“Shouldn’t we… go somewhere more private? My chambers… or at least upstairs…”

“I can’t wait another second.”

One hand already roams over her body through the thin peach silk. You cup her breast, squeeze her waist, slide down to grip her hip.

“I’m sorry, Nien. I hate doing this to you like this… like you’re some commoner’s whore in the middle of the docks.”

Nien gasps sharply at your words, her body shivering against yours. Then, to your surprise, a tiny, cute laugh bubbles out of her. Nervous but genuine. She pulls back just enough to look up at you, cheeks flushed pink.

“Do you… want me to act the part?”

You blink, stepping back half a pace in surprise. Nien lets out another soft laugh, shy but playful, covering her mouth with her fingers for a moment.

“I love how careful and loving you always are with me.”

She admits quietly.

“It makes me feel special. But… whenever I hear Shuhua moaning so loudly through the estate, or when I walk past Xinyu’s chambers and hear her begging for more… I can’t help but wonder how it feels to be treated rough sometimes.”

You stare at her, caught off guard by the confession.

“I only treat you this way because of how you look and act. You’re always so cheerful and loving… like a beautiful flower that should be handled gently. Shuhua is just exaggerating when she-”

Nien shakes her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

“You really don’t believe the three of us talk about these things? Shuhua brags about it all the time.”

She closes the small distance you created, stepping right up to you again. Her small hands reach down and slowly start undoing the ties of your pants, fingers deft and steady despite the blush on her cheeks.

“You can treat me however you want, my lord. Even if that means I’m just an object for you to release your lust into. I’d… appreciate being treated like that from time to time as well.”

Her fingers finish loosening your pants and slip inside, wrapping gently around your already hard cock. The innocent, cheerful Nien is still there in her bright smile, but now there’s a new spark of curiosity and desire in her gaze. A quiet invitation to be rougher, dirtier, to use her the way you use Shuhua.

“So… what will you do with me, my lord?”

She asks sweetly, almost innocently, while her hand works your length.

“Here, against the crates… like I’m just your little dockside toy?”

The contrast between her cute voice and the filthy offer makes your blood burn even hotter. Your hands tighten on her waist, the raw need from moments ago now completely unleashed. You spin Nien around without warning and shove her forward against the stack of wooden crates. You’re careful not to be too rough at first, just enough force to pin her in place, her palms flattening against the rough wood as she braces herself. Nien lets out a sharp little gasp, her body jolting. A moment later she pushes her ass back against you instinctively, grinding softly, silently asking for more. Your hands roam over her body from behind, sliding up her waist, cupping her breasts through the thin peach silk, then moving down to grip her hips again.

She tries to speak. Her voice is a little awkward as she attempts something filthy.

“I… I’m your little… dockside toy now.”

She stammers a little, the words sounding almost cute despite her effort.

“Use me… however you want…”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

“You don’t have to try so hard.”

You murmur against her ear, one hand already pushing her robe up. You bunch the silk around her waist until her lower body is completely exposed. Nien whimpers softly.

“I’m sorry… I’ll learn. I want to pleasure you as good as I can. I really do.”

You line yourself up and push into her in one thrust. Her pussy is soaked. She’s hot, slick, and surprisingly tight around your cock. Nien moans immediately, a sweet, surprised sound that echoes softly in the dim corridor.

“Oh… my lord…”

She pushes back against you again. You start fucking her from behind, slow and deep at first, letting her adjust. But the hunger from earlier is too strong. You gradually lean into it, picking up speed, pounding harder with each thrust. The wet slap of skin against skin fills the narrow space between the crates. Nien does her best to keep up. Her hands grip the edge of the crate stack tightly, knuckles whitening. She’s never taken you this roughly before, and it shows. Her body trembles as she tries to get used to the intensity. Still, she keeps trying to talk, her voice breaking with every hard snap of your hips.

“You… ah!… you feel so big like this…H-hurry… before anyone sees us…”

There’s no real worry in her tone. If anything, the idea of getting caught seems to excite her. Her pussy clenches tighter around you with every teasing word, and her moans grow a little louder, a little sweeter. You grip her hips harder and thrust deeper, the pace turning rougher. Nien’s legs shake. She bites her lip, trying to stifle another moan, but it slips out anyway.

“I… I can take it…Please… don’t hold back… I want to be good for you…”

Her walls spasm around your cock as you pound into her, the contrast between her usual bright, cheerful self and the way she’s bent over crates in a warehouse only making you fuck her harder. Nien’s breathing turns ragged. She’s clearly still adjusting to the rough treatment, but she’s doing everything she can to please you, pushing her ass back to meet your thrusts, moaning softly with every deep stroke, even trying to keep up her awkward dirty talk between gasps.

You grip Nien harder and start fucking her with real roughness. Your hips snap forward with sharp, punishing thrusts, driving deep into her soaked pussy again and again. The wooden crates creak under the force. One of your hands slides up her back, tangles roughly in her dark hair, and tugs her head back. Several of the pretty flowers she had pinned in earlier tumble to the dusty floor.

“Ahh-!”

A loud, broken moan rips out of her, much louder than before. Her body jolts with every hard thrust, but instead of tensing up, she starts pushing back to meet you, her hips rolling greedily. The awkwardness from moments ago has completely vanished. Now her words spill out naturally, filthy and eager, each one making your cock throb harder inside her.

“Yes-! Fuck me harder, my lord…! Use your little dockside whore… I don’t care if someone walks in right now-I’ll still take every inch of your cock!”

You pound into her faster, the wet sounds of her pussy echoing in the narrow corridor. Nien keeps going, her voice growing bolder with every thrust.

“Take my sweetness away… ruin me…! Fuck the cheerfulness out of your cute little flower… Make me your dirty toy every single day… Please-use me like this whenever you want… I’ll spread my legs for you anywhere!”

You’re genuinely surprised by how loud she’s getting…and how much she’s talking. Shuhua has always been the loudest by far while Tzuyu is the quietest, usually only soft gasps and whispered pleas. Xinyu and Nien normally fall somewhere in the middle, depending on their mood. But right now? Nien has clearly surpassed Xinyu. Her moans are high, sweet, and shameless, filling the warehouse corridor without restraint. If she keeps this up, she might even challenge Shuhua for the top spot. The thought sends another surge of heat through you. You yank her hair a little harder, slamming into her with deep strokes. Nien’s legs shake violently, but she doesn’t try to quiet down. Instead, she cries out even louder.

“Harder-! Please, my lord… I can take it… I want you to break me… Fill me up right here where anyone could see… I don’t care-just use me!”

Her pussy clenches rhythmically around your cock, slick and hot, clearly loving the rough treatment. Every dirty word that leaves her mouth turns you on more, the contrast between her usual bright, innocent personality and the filthy things she’s begging for right now driving you wild. Nien’s voice cracks into another loud moan as you pound her without mercy.

“Do you like hearing your sweet Nien talk like this…? I’ll be louder for you… I’ll scream if you want… Just don’t stop-!”

You can feel her getting closer, her walls clenching around you with every rough thrust. Her cheerful, lovable demeanor has cracked wide open, revealing a hungry, surprisingly vocal side you never expected. She’s still pushing back against you desperately, flowers scattered on the floor around her feet, robe bunched uselessly at her waist, moaning and babbling dirty promises without any shame left.

But the rough pace suddenly changes the moment Nien reaches her peak. Her walls clamp down hard around your cock, fluttering and pulsing in strong, irregular waves. A loud, trembling moan tears from her throat. Then it softens, breaking apart into the familiar sweet sighs and delicate gasps you’re used to hearing from her.

“Ah… ahh… my lord…”

She whimpers, voice turning small and breathy again. For a few heartbeats she sounds exactly like the same old Nien - cute, sweet, almost innocent - as if the filthy words from moments ago had never left her lips. Your body reacts on instinct. You slow down immediately, thrusts turning gentler, almost protective. Something inside you refuses to keep pounding such a sweet, soft girl against dirty crates in a random warehouse. Your hips roll slowly, carefully, letting her ride out the aftershocks while you stay buried deep inside her.

Nien’s breathing gradually steadies. Her head rests against the wooden crate, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. Then, to your surprise, her soft voice returns. Still gentle, still sweet, but now carrying a new, shy request.

“…Please… give me your cum. I want it inside… Fill me up, my lord…”

You blink, caught off guard. Nien has never asked for your seed like this before. The words sound almost too filthy coming from her usual bright, cheerful tone. You wonder if she picked that up from listening to Shuhua’s loud bragging sessions through the walls. You aren’t pounding her anymore, just slow, gentle thrusts, keeping her full while you process the contrast. Her innocent voice begging for something so dirty makes your head spin even harder than the rough fucking did.

“I want to feel it… deep inside me… Please cum for me…”

That sweet, lovable tone combined with her filthy plea finally pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm hits hard. You groan low against her neck and spill deep into her waiting pussy, thick ropes of cum flooding her warmth. Nien gasps and moans sweetly as she feels every pulse, her walls shaking again around you as if trying to milk out every drop.

“Thank you…Thank you for using me…”

Your lust slowly drains away, leaving your body heavy. You slump forward slightly, pressing her gently between your chest and the stack of crates. She’s trapped there, unable to move, your cock still buried inside her cum-filled cunt as it slowly softens.

For a long moment neither of you speaks. Then Nien lets out a shy little laugh.

“I… I enjoyed that very much. I don’t want to ask you to be so rough with me all the time… but whenever you’re in the mood for it… you can have me like this. Anytime.”

You lean down and press a soft kiss to her naked shoulder. The robe had slipped down earlier when you were tugging at it. Her skin is warm and slightly damp with sweat. Your eyes drift to the floor. A few scattered flowers lie among the dust. You make a mental note to buy her new ones on the way back to the estate later today. Her favorites.

You stay locked together like that for a while longer, your body shielding hers, cock still nestled inside her. Then Nien’s usual bright energy slowly returns. Even with you still buried deep inside her, her mind seems to drift far away from sex. She starts chattering again in that cheerful, playful voice you know so well.

“After you come back from your duties today… do you think we could play a game together? Maybe Weiqi in the garden pavilion? Or that new card game the merchants brought from the south? I’ve been practicing!”

You can tell she’s genuinely excited. Not about more sex, but simply about spending time with you. Her tone is light and happy, as if the intense moment against the crates had already become a fond memory rather than the main focus. You smile against her shoulder.

“I’ll make sure I have some time before dinner.”

Nien lets out a delighted little hum, her body relaxing even more against you.

A month has passed. The campaign against the pirate remnants has been grueling. Weeks of chasing shadows across the Taiwan Strait, stormy seas, and tense night raids on hidden coves near Penghu. Your squadron has sunk three pirate junks and scattered the rest, but the work is far from over.

Three days ago, while your ships were resupplying at a small harbor on the western coast of Taiwan, a messenger arrived from Nien’s family. Somehow, they had learned of your presence and extended a formal invitation. You and a small retinue were welcome to stay at their modest but respectable estate near Tainan for the remainder of the campaign. It would give your men safer anchorage and better provisions while you coordinated with local Qing officials. You hesitated for several reasons. Staying with the family of one of your concubines carried political weight. It could be seen as favoritism. It might also encourage the very competition you preferred to keep balanced. But refusing the offer outright would have been a grave insult to a family that had already lost much influence after the conquest. So, you accepted with measured gratitude.

Now you stand in the guest quarters of their estate, quickly cleaning yourself after another long week at sea. Servants bring fresh hot water and clean robes. You wash the salt from your skin, change into a simple but dignified dark silk robe, and make your way to the main hall for dinner. The hall is warmly lit with lanterns and candles. A long lacquered table is set with an impressive spread of fresh seafood, braised pork, fragrant rice, pickled vegetables, and delicate soups. Nien’s father, a scholarly looking man in his late forties named Master Lin, rises to greet you with a deep, respectful bow. His wife, Madam Lin, stands beside him, elegant in a muted green robe, her expression warm.

“General.”

Master Lin gestures for you to take the seat of honor.

“We are deeply honored by your presence. Please, make yourself comfortable. This humble home is yours for as long as you need it.”

You bow slightly in return and take your seat.

“I must thank you again for your generous hospitality. Your offer has made the campaign far more bearable. My men and I are grateful.”

Master Lin is tactful and measured as the meal begins. He speaks of the weather, the recent trade routes, and the stability the Qing has brought to the region. He never directly mentions Nien or any expectations. Yet you can read between the lines. This invitation is strategic. By hosting you, he strengthens his family’s ties to a powerful general and hopes his daughter will rise in your household. Still, he remains polite and respectful.

His wife is different. Madam Lin smiles sweetly as she serves you a choice piece of fish.

“Our Nien has always been such a bright and loving child.”

Her eyes flicker toward you.

“She brings such joy wherever she goes. We pray every day that she continues to bring that same joy… and perhaps even greater blessings… to your esteemed household.”

The hint is gentle but unmistakable. She doesn’t say the words “get her pregnant,” but the meaning is clear. They hope Nien will soon follow Xinyu’s example and give you another child…ideally a son.

You nod politely, murmuring thanks, but inside you feel the weight of the conversation. Eating with Nien’s parents is proving almost as exhausting as fighting pirates. Every smile, every carefully worded comment feels like navigating hidden reefs. As Madam Lin continues praising Nien’s sweetness, her gentle nature, and her “pure heart,” your mind drifts unavoidably to memories that make you feel strangely guilty. The warehouse a month ago. Nien bent over those crates, moaning filthily while you fucked her raw in broad daylight. The way she begged you to ruin her sweetness, to use her like a toy. The flowers scattered on the dirty floor.

And then the night just two days before your departure from Xiamen…You had gone to her chambers expecting another gentle, sweet night. At first it was exactly that - soft kisses, her bright laughter, her body warm and welcoming beneath you. But then, to your surprise, Nien had gently pushed you onto your back. For the first time ever, she climbed on top of you, straddled your hips, and slowly sank down onto your cock. She rode you with shy determination, her small hands on your chest, her hair falling around her face as she moved. Her moans had been softer than in the warehouse, but there was a new hunger in her eyes. She had whispered things she had never said before, asking if she was pleasing you, if you liked the way she took control for once. You can still picture the way her breasts bounced gently with each roll of her hips, the cute, concentrated expression on her face as she tried to ride you to completion.

Now, sitting here at her parents’ table while her mother praises that same “sweet, innocent” daughter, the contrast hits you hard. You feel almost like you’ve corrupted something pure. The cheerful, lovable Nien who chatters about games and flowers is the same girl who begged you to treat her like a dockside whore and then sweetly asked for your cum while riding you.

Madam Lin’s voice pulls you back.

“…and we are certain that with your guidance, our daughter will continue to grow and flourish in every way.”

You raise your cup in a polite toast, hiding your thoughts behind a calm expression.

The dinner continues. The food is excellent, but the conversation is a careful dance. Master Lin steers topics toward safer waters like local governance, the pirate situation,  and your recent victories. Madam Lin occasionally slips in another gentle hint about family, legacy, and the blessings of many children. You eat and respond with politeness, all while vivid memories of Nien, both the innocent and the surprisingly eager versions, linger at the edge of your mind.

Your ships slipped into Xiamen harbor just before midnight, the sails heavy with salt and victory. It took nearly two more hours to organize the docking, unloading wounded men, securing captured pirate banners and weapons, assigning guards, and sending preliminary reports to Admiral Shi Lang. By the time you finally mounted your horse and rode toward the estate, the moon was high and the streets of Xiamen were quiet.

As you approach the main gates, you notice something unusual. Despite the late hour, lanterns are lit along every path and courtyard. Warm golden light spills from windows and pavilions. The entire estate is awake. The moment the heavy gates swing open and you step into the main courtyard, you are greeted exactly as expected. Nearly the entire household has gathered. Servants line the sides holding lanterns. Your steward stands at the front with a deep bow. And in the center, waiting for you, are the four women who rule your inner world.

Xinyu stands slightly ahead of the others, her crimson robe flowing around her noticeably larger belly. Three months have transformed her. The gentle curve has become a full, rounded swell that she carries with quiet pride. Her hair is neatly pinned, and though fatigue shadows her eyes, she holds herself with the dignity of the principal wife. Behind her stand the three concubines in a neat row. Tzuyu on the left, elegant in pale blue silk, posture perfect as always. Shuhua in the middle, vibrant green robes hugging her figure, a small smirk already playing on her lips. Nien on the right, soft peach silk glowing in the lantern light, her bright smile lighting up her face the moment she sees you.

As one, they all bow deeply.

“Welcome home, General.”

Xinyu says first.

“Welcome home, my lord.”

The three concubines echo, their voices blending together.

You return the greeting with a nod.

“It is good to be back.”

You step closer to Xinyu, eyes dropping instinctively to her swollen belly. You reach out and gently touch her arm.

“Are you doing alright? You shouldn’t have stayed up so late or woken the entire household just to welcome me. You need rest, especially now.”

Xinyu meets your gaze. There is clear love in her eyes, soft and genuine, even beneath the exhaustion.

“It is my duty as your wife.”

She replies simply.

“And… I wanted to see you return safely.”

You nod, then turn to address everyone.

“Go back to sleep. All of you. The night is late and tomorrow will be busy enough.”

The servants and steward immediately begin to scatter with bows and quiet murmurs of:

“Yes, General.”

Xinyu starts to turn with you as you guide her gently toward her chambers, one hand resting lightly at the small of her back to support her. Before you’ve taken more than a few steps, Xinyu pauses and glances back at the retreating maids.

“Prepare some warm food for the General. Light congee, steamed buns, and tea. Bring it to my chambers.”

The maids bow and hurry off to obey.

The three concubines remain standing for a moment longer, watching as you lead Xinyu away. You can feel their eyes on your back. None of them speak, but the air is thick with unspoken anticipation. They know you have just returned after three long months. They know the nights ahead will be filled with competition once again.

You continue walking with Xinyu, the lanterns along the path lighting your way toward her pavilion. Her steps are slower now, weighted by the growing child inside her. She leans into your touch, the love in her eyes still visible even in the dim light.

You reach the entrance to Xinyu’s chambers. The heavy silk curtains sway gently in the night breeze. Xinyu looks up at you, one hand resting protectively over her rounded belly.

“Will you stay with me tonight, my lord?”

She asks softly, though she already knows the answer may not be simple. You look down at your salt stained robes and travel worn appearance, then gently shake your head.

“I do not dare enter your halls in this state. I smell of the sea and weeks of campaign. Let me bathe first. I promise I will return afterward.”

Xinyu studies you for a moment, then a small, teasing smile curves her lips.

“Very well, my lord. But do not take too long. A wife can only be patient for so long… especially when her husband has been away for three months.”

You give her a nod and a faint smile before turning toward the private bathing courtyard.

The bathing pool is one of the few luxuries you allow yourself. Set in a secluded corner of the inner garden, surrounded by high screens and flowering jasmine vines, it is fed by heated water carried in by servants. Lanterns hang from the wooden beams overhead, casting a warm, golden glow over the rippling surface.

You sink into the pool with a low sigh of relief. The water feels impossibly soft and clean compared to the harsh, salty waves you have lived in for months. Heat seeps into your tired muscles as you lean back against the smooth stone edge, closing your eyes for a moment. The night is quiet except for the gentle lap of water and the distant chirping of insects.

Then, from the corner of your eye, you catch a shadow moving near the edge of the lantern light. Your body reacts instantly. Your hand shoots out toward the knife you had placed beside your folded clothes on the low bench behind you.

Before your fingers can close around the hilt, the shadow steps fully into the light.

It is Tzuyu.

She stands at the edge of the pool, wearing a simple but elegant white inner robe that clings lightly to her figure. Her long hair is loosely tied, a few strands framing her face. She looks slightly more confident than usual. Shoulders straighter, chin lifted just a fraction higher. The change is subtle, but you notice it immediately.

You relax your hand and let it fall back into the water.

Tzuyu has always been quiet and reserved, but right now you cannot help wondering if she has schemed something while you were away. The letter from her parents three months ago still lingers in your memory. The polite but clear urging to get their daughter pregnant. If Tzuyu takes after them at all, she might be here with similar intentions. Yet, just like Xinyu, you can never quite tell with her. Is this quiet confidence a calculated move, or simply her natural grace?

She hesitates at the edge of the pool, fingers lightly twisting the sash of her robe. You watch her in silence, already expecting what is coming. Tzuyu finally meets your gaze.

“My lord… would you allow me the honor of your company?”

She takes one graceful step closer.

“After all, a man of your status should not have to wash himself alone.”

She stands there, waiting, the lantern light casting a gentle glow on her skin and making her eyes shine with quiet expectation. You lean back against the smooth stone edge of the pool, the warm water lapping gently at your chest.

“You don’t have to be so formal when we’re alone, Tzuyu.”

Tzuyu lowers her gaze for a moment, a faint blush touching her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, my lord.”

Then, after a small pause, she adds, almost shyly:

“Since we are alone… it should be fine if I join you in the water.”

You don’t answer right away. You simply watch her. Tzuyu takes your silence as invitation. She reaches for the sash of her white inner robe. With slow, teasing movements she unties it, letting the fabric part. Your breath catches as she begins to undress right there on the other side of the pool. The robe slides off her shoulders first, revealing the elegant line of her collarbones and the gentle swell of her breasts. She continues, letting the silk glide down her body like water, exposing the smooth curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, and the long, graceful length of her legs. Finally, the robe pools at her feet, leaving her completely naked.

You have never seen Tzuyu like this before. Fully bare, standing at a distance where you can take in every inch of her at once. In the dim lantern light of her chambers, it was always darker, closer, more intimate. Here, under the warm glow of the lanterns, she looks almost unreal: tall, slender, perfectly proportioned, with smooth pale skin and long black hair cascading down her back. Her breasts are full and firm, nipples already slightly hardened by the night air. Her waist is narrow, hips gently curved, and between her thighs you can see the delicate line of her pussy.

Tzuyu seems a little shy under your undivided stare. She shifts her weight slightly, one hand instinctively moving to cover herself before she catches the motion and lowers it again. But there’s also a quiet pleasure in her eyes, as if she enjoys the way you’re looking at her. She steps slowly into the pool. The water ripples around her ankles, then her calves, then her thighs as she wades toward you. When she finally stands directly in front of you, the water reaching just below her breasts, she hesitates for only a heartbeat. Then she leans in carefully, giving you time to pull away if you wish.

Her lips meet yours in a soft, tentative kiss. You respond naturally. Your hands rise from the water and find her naked body, roaming slowly over her wet skin, tracing the curve of her waist, sliding up to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples. She trembles slightly under your touch.

When she finally draws away just enough to look at you, you are too relaxed after the long campaign to take charge. You simply watch her, hands still resting on her hips under the water. Tzuyu’s cheeks are faintly pink. She moves closer, carefully straddling your lap beneath the surface. You feel the heat of her body even through the warm water. Your now hard cock presses against her tight, flat tummy as she settles on top of you.

You let out a low chuckle.

“You said you’d wash me.”

Your voice is rough with amusement and growing desire.

“Not pleasure me.”

Tzuyu’s blush deepens, but she doesn’t look away.

“Can’t I do both?”

The warm water laps gently around your bodies. Lantern light flickers across her wet skin. She is beautiful, elegant, and clearly offering herself to you after three long months apart. You lean back against the edge of the pool, the warm water lapping at your shoulders, and give her a slow smile.

“I’m sure you can do both.”

Tzuyu’s lips curve into a gentle, pleased smile.

“Then I will try my best, my lord.”

Her hand slips beneath the water. You feel her slender fingers wrap around your hard cock, stroking you slowly from base to tip. The sensation is smooth and teasing in the warm water.

“I’ll start with this.”

You rest your arms along the stone edge and watch her. Tzuyu’s naked upper body is beautiful in the lantern light. The elegant curve of her shoulders, the full swell of her breasts with water droplets sliding down them, the graceful line of her neck…She keeps her eyes on you as she strokes, her touch growing a little firmer, a little more confident with every pass.

After a few moments, Tzuyu rises slightly on her knees. She positions herself over you, one hand still guiding your cock. Then she slowly lowers herself. You watch her face closely. Pleasure washes over her features the moment the head of your cock parts her folds. Her lips part in a soft gasp. Her brows furrow slightly as she sinks down. Her eyes flutter half-closed, and a quiet, trembling moan escapes her. It’s clear she has been just as eager for this as you have been for her. Three long months apart have left her hungry too.

You feel every inch as her tight, silky pussy lips glide down your length, enveloping you slowly, warmly and completely. She is wetter than the pool water, her inner walls clinging to you with familiar perfection.

Tzuyu is not like Shuhua. She prefers it slower, especially when she’s on top. She begins to move with graceful rolls of her hips, grinding down deeply, then lifting and bouncing in a smooth, controlled rhythm. Her hands rest on your chest for balance as she rides you, doing her best to make your head roll back with every motion.

For several long minutes she works you like this: slow, deep grinds mixed with gentle bounces, her breasts swaying softly with the movement. The water ripples around your joined bodies in steady waves. Tzuyu’s breathing grows heavier, her quiet moans filling the night air. Then she leans down, pressing her wet breasts against your chest. Her lips brush your ear.

“My lord…”

She breathes, still moving on you.

“I think… I am with child.”

The words hit you like a quiet thunderclap. She continues riding you slowly as she speaks, her voice trembling with both pleasure and nervousness.

“All the signs are there. The missed courses, the tenderness, the way my body feels different… but I haven’t told anyone yet. Not even the physician. I wanted you to know first.”

Tzuyu pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, still gently rolling her hips, your cock buried deep inside her. She searches your face, waiting for your reaction while her body keeps moving on you with that same graceful, needy rhythm.

The night is quiet as Nien stands just outside the kitchen courtyard, hands clasped in front of her peach-colored robe. She had been waiting patiently for several minutes when the two maids finally emerge, carrying a lacquered tray with warm congee, steamed buns, pickled vegetables, and a pot of fragrant tea. Exactly what Xinyu had ordered for you.

Nien steps forward with a bright, innocent smile.

“Let me take that to the General.”

She offers sweetly.

“He must be very tired after such a long journey. I would be happy to bring it to him.”

The maids exchange a quick glance, but they know better than to refuse one of the master’s concubines. They hand over the tray without argument.

“Thank you.”

Nien says cheerfully, balancing the tray carefully as she turns and heads toward the private bathing courtyard. She knows exactly where you are. The lanterns glowing softly in that direction are impossible to miss.

The garden paths are dimly lit, the night air cool and filled with the scent of jasmine. Nien walks quickly but gracefully, her mind already imagining the your tired smile when she arrives with food. She rounds a corner near the moon gate…

… and nearly collides with Shuhua.

Both women stop short. The tray wobbles dangerously in Nien’s hands. A few drops of tea splash over the edge. Shuhua startles, stepping back with a sharp intake of breath, her vibrant green robe swirling around her legs.

“Nien!”

Shuhua hisses.

“Shuhua!”

Nien replies, steadying the tray with both hands. Her usual bright tone carries a hint of surprise and wariness.

For a moment they simply stare at each other in the half dark. They don’t hate each other - there has never been open hostility between any of the three concubines - but Nien has always found Shuhua suspicious, and Shuhua clearly feels the same about the overly cheerful youngest.

Shuhua crosses her arms, one eyebrow raised.

“Going to the bathing courtyard? With food? How thoughtful of you.”

Nien tilts her head, still smiling but with a sharper edge.

“Xinyu asked me to bring it. The General needs to eat after his long journey. Why are you heading in that direction so late?”

Shuhua lets out a short, scoffing laugh.

“Don’t play innocent. You’re trying to get to him first.”

“And you aren’t?”

Nien shoots back, voice still light but now clearly defensive.

“You’ve been waiting for him to return just as much as I have. Don’t pretend you were just taking a midnight stroll.”

Shuhua steps closer.

“At least I’m honest about wanting his attention. You act all sweet and harmless, but we both know why you’re really bringing him food at this hour.”

Nien’s cheeks flush, but she doesn’t back down.

“And you act all bold and fiery, but you’re doing the exact same thing. We’re both trying to gain his favor tonight. There’s no point in denying it.”

A tense silence stretches between them. The tray remains steady in Nien’s hands, but the air crackles with mutual suspicion.

Finally, Shuhua lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes.

“Fine. We both want to see him. There’s no use fighting over it right now.”

Nien nods, her bright smile returning, though it’s a little tighter than usual.

“Exactly. So… shall we go together?”

Shuhua hesitates for half a second, then gives a small, reluctant nod.

“Together. But don’t think this means I’m sharing nicely.”

The two women fall into step side by side, heading toward the glowing lanterns of the bathing courtyard. Nien carefully balances the tray while Shuhua walks with her usual confident stride. The rivalry simmers just beneath the surface, but for now, they have reached an uneasy truce. As they approach the entrance to the private bathing area, both can see the warm light spilling out and hear the faint sound of water rippling.

Nien and Shuhua step quietly into the bathing courtyard together, the tray of food balanced carefully in Nien’s hands. They both stop dead in their tracks the moment they see what is happening in the pool. Tzuyu is in your lap, facing you, her long bare back and elegant shoulders glowing in the lantern light. Her hips move in slow, graceful rolls as she rides you. The water ripples gently around your joined bodies. From behind, they can see the elegant line of her spine, the way her muscles flex and shift with every movement, and the subtle bounce of her long black hair.

Tzuyu lets out a soft, needy moan.

“More… please, my lord…”

Shuhua’s expression instantly darkens. Her jaw tightens and her eyes flash with fury. She crosses her arms tightly over her chest, practically vibrating with irritation.

“Tzuyu is such a slut.”

She hisses under her breath, loud enough for Nien to hear. Nien bites her tongue hard to stop herself from snapping back that Shuhua is easily the biggest slut in the entire household. Instead, she feels a quiet wave of sadness wash over her. She isn’t really angry, just disappointed. She had hoped to have you to herself tonight, even if only for a little while. Now she will only get a third of your attention.

While Shuhua is still fuming, Nien sets the tray of food down on a nearby stone bench without a word. She doesn’t want to fall behind. Shuhua makes the decision first. Without saying anything else, she starts pulling off her robe, letting it drop carelessly to the ground. Her naked body is revealed in the lantern light: bold curves, smooth skin, and an unmistakable air of confidence. Nien quickly follows her example. She unties her peach robe and shrugs it off, stepping out of the silk puddle at her feet. Her own body is softer and more delicate than Shuhua’s, but no less beautiful.

Both women move toward the pool together. They step carefully into the warm water, the liquid rising around their legs, then their thighs, then their hips. The ripples they create spread outward, disturbing the calm surface.

Tzuyu is still riding you slowly when the sound of their movement reaches her. She doesn’t stop, but her head turns slightly, eyes widening as she notices the two new arrivals. Shuhua and Nien wade closer until they are only a few steps away from where Tzuyu sits impaled on your cock. The air in the bathing courtyard grows thick with tension, jealousy, and unspoken competition. Tzuyu’s hips continue their gentle, graceful motion as she looks at the other two women, a faint blush on her cheeks. Shuhua stops with her hands on her hips, water lapping at her waist, and stares directly at you with a challenging glint in her eyes. Nien stands beside her, quieter, her expression a mix of envy and shy hope as she watches Tzuyu’s flawless back and the way her body moves on you.

You notice the movement at the edge of the pool and lift your gaze. Nien and Shuhua stand there, both completely naked, the warm lantern light dancing across their wet skin. Shuhua’s body is bold and curvaceous, perky breasts and strong hips cutting through the surface. Nien’s figure is softer, more delicate, her skin glowing with that same innocent charm she always carries.

The moment you see them, your cock twitches hard inside Tzuyu. Tzuyu feels it immediately. Her walls flutter around you in response, and she lets out a tiny, surprised gasp, her hips stuttering for a second before she continues her slow ride.

You can’t help it. An amused chuckle escapes your throat.

Tzuyu’s cheeks flush deeper as she realizes the other two are watching her ride you so openly. Shuhua’s usual confident smirk falters for half a heartbeat, replaced by a flicker of awkwardness. Nien’s bright eyes widen, her hands instinctively moving to cover her chest before she catches herself and lowers them again. They’ve never seen each other fully naked like this. The usual private intimacy of the bedchambers has suddenly become very public. None of them quite know how to act now that they are all together in the same pool. You feel a brief moment of uncertainty yourself. Three naked, beautiful concubines surrounding you after three long months away is almost overwhelming.

You motion with your head.

“Shuhua. Left side.”

You turn slightly and gesture to the other side.

“Nien. Right.”

Shuhua moves first, wading through the water with that bold stride until she’s pressed against your left side. Nien follows more shyly, slipping into the water on your right until her soft body brushes against you. The moment they settle, Tzuyu - clearly not willing to lose her place on your cock - starts putting in more effort. Her hips roll deeper, grinding down harder, her tight pussy squeezing around you with renewed determination. Her breathing grows heavier as she rides you more purposefully. You reach out with your left hand and grope Shuhua’s perky tits, squeezing the firm flesh and rolling her nipple between your fingers. Shuhua lets out a sharp, pleased breath and arches into your touch. At the same time, you pull Nien closer with your right arm, tilting her chin up so you can claim her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. She melts into it instantly, her soft lips parting for you, a tiny whimper vibrating against your tongue. While you kiss Nien and fondle Shuhua, Tzuyu continues riding you steadily, her long legs flexing under the water as she works herself on your cock.

In the back of your mind, the news Tzuyu whispered earlier still burns. The possibility that she is already carrying your child. The thought sends another throb through your length, making Tzuyu moan softly.

You hope Xinyu doesn’t mind you indulging a little tonight. After three months away, and with her own belly growing heavier by the day, she might even understand. For now, you focus on the three women surrounding you. Shuhua presses her breasts more firmly into your groping hand, her usual bratty energy already starting to surface again. Nien kisses you back sweetly, her smaller hand resting shyly on your chest. Tzuyu keeps riding you with quiet determination, clearly trying to remind everyone that she was here first.

The warm water laps around all four of you as the night air grows thicker with tension and desire.

The morning sun beats down on the training ground, turning the dirt courtyard into a haze of dust and heat. You move through the forms, wooden practice sword clashing against your partner’s in sharp, rhythmic strikes. Sweat runs down your bare chest and back, soaking the waistband of your trousers. Your breathing is heavy, muscles burning after weeks of pushing yourself hard since returning from the campaign. You parry a strong overhead blow, then counter with a low sweep that forces your opponent to jump back. The soldiers watching from the sidelines murmur in approval.

Just as you reset your stance for another exchange, you catch sight of a servant hurrying across the edge of the training ground. The man is moving quickly, his face tense. You raise your hand and step back, lowering your sword.

“Enough for now.”

You tell your practice partner, who bows and retreats. You wipe sweat from your brow with the back of your arm and motion the servant closer. He approaches, bowing deeply the moment he’s within speaking distance.

“General, Lady Xinyu… she has gone into labour.”

You straighten immediately, chest still heaving from the exertion. Sweat continues to trickle down your temples, but the fatigue in your muscles is forgotten in an instant.

“When?”

“Just now, my lord. The midwife and her maids are with her. Lady Xinyu asked that you be informed right away.”

You nod once, already turning toward the inner quarters.

“Prepare hot water and clean cloths if they haven’t already.”

You order as you start walking.

“And send word to the physician if he isn’t there yet.”

The servant bows again and hurries off to carry out your commands.

You stride across the courtyard, practice sword still in hand, sweat cooling on your skin in the morning breeze. The training ground and your soldiers fade behind you as your focus narrows entirely to Xinyu’s pavilion. Your mind races with a mix of anticipation and concern. Xinyu’s belly had grown significantly. The child - the one she has been so certain is a son - is finally coming.

As you pass through the moon gate into the women’s quarters, you can already hear faint activity ahead: maids moving quickly, low voices, and the occasional strained sound that might be Xinyu.

The three concubines are nowhere in sight yet, but you know they will learn of this soon enough. The news will spread through the household like wildfire.

You reach the entrance to Xinyu’s chambers. The heavy silk curtains have been pulled back, and several maids hover nervously just outside.

One of them bows deeply when she sees you.

“General… Lady Xinyu is in her bed. The pains have started strongly. The midwife says it is progressing well, but it may take some time.”

You hand your practice sword to the nearest servant without a word and step inside.

The room is warm, scented with medicinal herbs and incense meant to ease the birth. Xinyu lies propped up on the large bed, her face flushed and damp with sweat. Her crimson robe is loosened and pushed up, her swollen belly clearly visible and tight with another contraction. She grips the sheets tightly, breathing through the pain with determined focus.

When she sees you enter, her eyes soften despite the discomfort.

“My lord…You came quickly.”

You move to her side, taking her hand in yours. Her fingers are surprisingly strong as they squeeze yours during the next wave of pain. The midwife, an experienced older woman, kneels nearby, quietly giving instructions to the assisting maids.

Xinyu looks up at you, her free hand resting protectively on her belly.

“It is time. Our child is coming.”

Outside the chamber, you can already hear hurried footsteps, the news spreading fast through the estate. The three concubines will likely arrive soon, drawn by the commotion and the weight of what this birth could mean for all of them.

You stay beside Xinyu, holding her hand as another contraction builds.

[orangecassettetapes]

We Just Fit

Miyeon x Male Reader - 11k words

“Fuck you.”

“That’s kinda the idea, baby.” Miyeon quips as she stares up at you with a cocky smirk. 

Seeing your unshifting gaze, she rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh, defeated. 

“Come on. We’ve had this argument a hundred times. You have won none of them. So save me the white knight act and fuck me,” She gives your cheek a few light slaps, finally getting her adorable pet to obey. “Hm, baby?”

-

Now, Miyeon wasn’t always like this. She used to be sweet, and caring, and soft, and unbelievably infectious with her sudden shotgun bursts of laughter that always catch you off-guard. It’s that distinct rise in pitch and volume in her laugh that makes it so stupidly goofy. Very unlike her image, much less a princess as she, annoyingly, claims to be.

But, calling her a delight would be an understatement; a heinous crime. She was more than that. She was sun, warmth, home. She was afternoon drives by the countryside as a breeze coolly slides across your cheek. But at the same time, she was class, elegance, and frilly dresses. She was velvet pillows and intricate curls on rose gold upholstery. She was, whether you like it or not, fucking immaculate. You’d call her godsent, but you think no God would’ve been wise to put this much power in a human being. Either way, God or no God, Miyeon was real. 

And, as luck would have it, she didn’t smite you the first time you interacted with her. Once you’ve gotten past the initial awkward small talk, conversations with her have been far from uninteresting. She tells stories like they’re epic sonnets with rising and falling actions, and you can’t help but flow to her narrative. She endlessly recounts to you the several dramas, shows, and countless movies she’s watched (Yes, even the ones you’ve already watched.), and you can’t help but pray that actors would go out of business if it means talking to Miyeon all day.

With a talker like her, she expects full attention from you, too. It was your sworn duty, an oath, invisibly signed on the day you became friends. 

But sometimes it could prove just a bit too much. Unbeknownst to her, you always kept a long list of phrases that help shut out the noise that is Miyeon as she drones on and on and on. Trusty tools, you thought so yourself.

-

“…and then I killed it during the live stream. I just hate it when they fly slow enough to buzz in my ear but fucking quick enough to dodge everything I throw at it.” She released a quick sigh. “Then afterwards I kinda felt bad, so I gave it a little funeral with tissue.” Miyeon pouted.

“Uh-huh, yeah.” You replied, eyes still fixated on your laptop screen. 

Miyeon shifted her gaze and stared at the side of your face. “And after that I got up to fix the chairs…”

“As one does, yes.” Your fingers glided across the keys.

Miyeon prodded her cheek with her tongue as she scoffed lightly. “And then I got naked on stream, you asshole. You’re not even listening!”

You inhaled deeply and exhaled shortly. With a final *CLACK* on your enter key, you faced a sulking Miyeon. 

“You were doing the livestream, and then you kept hearing the infuriating buzzing sound, but it would miss your hand every time you swatted it. You whirled around a bit and finally caught the mosquito. You suddenly felt bad, so you held a funeral with tissues and a little prayer. Afterwards, you probably fixed the chairs in the practice room, then ended the stream. I was listening. Asshole.” You smirked, proudly. Miyeon did too.

You’ve never really needed those tools.

-

From an outside perspective, people might think there’s something going on between you and Miyeon. You got it a lot actually, but that isn’t the case. You know that isn’t the case. 

Okay, well, you have harbored feelings for Miyeon to some degree, but seeing her already beaming with your friendship left you wanting to leave things the way they were. It worked perfectly, so why mess it up?

Consequently, knowing that there wasn’t anything between you and Miyeon, Minnie went ahead and asked you out. It was on a rainy afternoon, and it was chilly even inside Cube’s building. You were bundled up on the couch, busy fixing various schedules and the logistics of some of I-DLE’s promotion-week activities on your laptop when Minnie suddenly popped the question.

-

“Do you wanna go out?”

Your fingers halted. Your eyes immediately went to the closed window. The blur of the grey sky and the cold outside nipped at your ears. You dreaded the thought of the outdoors. So, you faced Minnie.

“You mean—“

Minnie quickly shook her head.

“Oh…Oh.” you realized.

Minnie continued to stare, lips slightly pouted. That was when you got a good look at her for the first time. Overshadowed by Miyeon’s constant hogging of your attention, Minnie wasn’t able to engage with you that much. You’ve had a few talks, but never really got to a real conversation. But holy hell, without competing with Miyeon, Minnie easily radiated and filled the whole room and about 4 other buildings down the block. You audibly gulped, nervously wracking your brain for a response. Say yes, idiot!, you internally shouted.

Minnie piped up again. “I think you’re cute and I wanna get to know you more. So what do you say?”

Sensing the silence, you shifted back to the task at hand: the gorgeous woman in front of you. Ears, check. Eyes, check. Head, check. You nodded up and down. 

“Yes, please.”

-

But this isn’t about Minnie, it’s about Miyeon. 

Now, for the record, Minnie was an absolute angel. No doubt about that. You’ve been dating for a couple of months now and have almost checked all the boxes on the list: you have a copy of each other’s keys, you’ve both met each other’s parents, and you’ve both admitted to loving one another. You haven’t slept together yet, but you were willing to wait if Minnie wanted to take it slow. Things were going great — up until that one night you had Miyeon over.

-

Miyeon called you up to tell you that she was coming over. It was around 12. On the phone, she already sounded kinda loopy — tipsy. Slurred words and constant hiccups kinda gave it way. Being the good friend you are, you agreed. Someone had to watch over her, so might as well be you. You sent a quick update to Minnie and a sweet goodnight. She sent back a photo of her, bundled up in bed with messy bangs and a small thumbs up.

Miyeon shortly arrived at your door with three soft knocks. She had her brown hair down and wore an extra-large purple sweater that hung on her slim body and shorts that proudly displayed her smooth thighs and legs. With a quick smile and a hey, she let herself in, and you got to making dinner for the both of you.

So there you were, sitting beside each other on your smelly (according to Miyeon) couch. You had just finished dinner and continued to tap away at your laptop while Miyeon fiddled with her phone. It was silent, but it was fine. Just the noises of each other seemed to suffice. Then Miyeon’s voice broke the air between you.

“Am I a good friend to you?”

Your ears perked up, and you hummed lightly. “Hm?”

Miyeon slowly exhaled. “I asked if I was a good friend to you.”

There was something about the question that sounded so different, so foreign, so…unexplored. You guys weren’t much for mushy stuff, so this was definitely a first. But, you had to admit, Miyeon is a great friend.

On days with too much work on your hands, she would never forget to stop by your office for a quick chat, holding whatever instant junk she found around the company. She would plop down on the couch in front of your desk and start talking. Little by little, you got to know her better.

You’re a talker just as much as she is, albeit only with her, but you figured that everybody was a talker with their best friends. Miyeon knew you well, too. She knew your ins and outs, your pet peeves, and your grievances. And you knew hers — how her nose scrunches every time she hears a trot song, or how she has a secret dimple on her cheek that only appears when you say an absolutely hilarious joke, or how she curses, like a lot, whenever only the two of you are around. You guys just…fit. So you went with that.

You cleared your throat and shuffled a bit on the sofa. Miyeon audibly gulped as she waited. She hugged her knees to her chest as she stared. 

“Well…” you started. “You are. You’re my best friend, and you’re really great. We just fit, you know?” You finished with a small shrug.

Miyeon’s face lightened, brows slowly unfurrowing, satisfied with your answer. She licked her lips and nodded. Right about now, you could guess a smirk was coming. Then, as if on cue, a corner of her lips rose, and you saw that dimple starting to show. The world just seemed to fade into the background as Miyeon held your gaze, the drunk blush perfectly accenting her cheeks. Both of you were light-years away from Earth at that point, drifting aimlessly into the unknown. And yet you didn’t care. Even then — with Miyeon in her messy, tipsy, aimless state — she was stunning. 

You flicked her forehead. 

Can’t let her have too big an ego. “That’s the only compliment you’ll squeeze out of me.”

She flicked your hand away as she clicked her tongue. “Oh fuck off,” she said with a snort.

Both of you settled shortly after, content and satisfied with each other’s answer. But you decided to question her more.

“So why’d you ask?” You smiled lightly.

Miyeon shrugged. 

“Miyeon.”

She released a long-withheld sigh. “I don’t know. I’ve…just been feeling down these past months.”

You stared at her softly and reached over to give her palm a squeeze. Now, you knew Miyeon had her sorrows; she was the worst at hiding them. You’d sometimes catch her on the verge of tears while reading fan letters or speaking onstage, and it was always the same outcome. She would use the same goofy laugh to buffer any deeper emotions she felt. You would hear it in her voice, that heartbreaking whimper, that trembling bottom lip, tears trying to force themselves out after being trapped for so long. It pained you to an extent. It was rare for Miyeon to be this open with her feelings, so you approached gently. 

“Well,” you started. “I’m here. I’m always here.”

You saw that familiar shimmer in her eyes and prepared for the worst.

But no tears fell that night. 

You heard her chuckle as she quickly dabbed the corner of her eyes. “I know.” Miyeon started. She found your gaze and gave you a reassuring nod. “I know.”

Sensing her sunken mood, you shifted gears and prepared a small zinger. You leaned towards her. “This is the part where you compliment me, too, you know?”

That did it. She fired off a laugh, clearly not letting you have the last word. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m serious!” You feigned innocence with two raised hands. “It’s only right,” you teased.

Miyeon waved you away with her hand and a giggle. “You won’t get one out of me.”

The sounds of her laughter died down as she hugged her knees once more. You shifted back to the comfortable silence. You were about to start working again when Miyeon asked another question.

“Have you and Minnie fucked?”

“Jesus. What kind of question is that?”

“A regular one?”

“An inappropriate one.

“Just tell me, Mr. Chastity.” Miyeon chuckled.

“Shut up.”

“Come on.”

“Fuck. Off.”

“Oh please. Just say no and get it over with.”

“Oh for— fine. Okay, fine. No. No, we have not fucked. There, happy?”

“You probably aren’t.”

You scoffed. “I am. If Minnie wants to wait, then I’ll wait. What’s so hard to get?”

Miyeon pursed her lips and shrugged. “I was just curious.” 

You licked your lips, ready for another sharp comeback if ever Miyeon pushed it. But she didn’t. Instead, her eyes flickered dangerously — from your lap and back up to you. 

“I bet you’re so pent up.” 

What the fuck was that?, you thought to yourself.

Alarms blared in your ear as you assessed what Miyeon said, replaying it over and over. Your heart slowly began to pound against your chest, frightened by the uncertainty of it all. But a part of you picked up on it: that subliminal beckon in her tone, the fiery dare the woman has presented to you in the form of a few “innocent” words. She was suddenly crossing way too many lines, more than you could count. A once-in-a-lifetime chance to do something extremely wrong and stupid lies before you in the form of your extremely captivating friend. It felt sinful, mortifying. Exciting.

Miyeon stared at you with a slightly raised eyebrow, daring you to make a move. Her hidden dimple, ever so visible, betrayed her thoughts on the situation before you: this was a mere game to her. A helpless game where only Miyeon won, and you lost, be it swiftly or painstakingly slow. You stared at her pale hand as it travelled from her side over to your knee. Your heart, finally being heard by your brain, groaned out a response.

“Miyeon.”

She hummed lightly. “Hm?”

“Please.” You begged her. 

Her eyes flickered once more, a hint of the Devil that lived inside the woman. She breathed out a small chuckle. “Please what?”

You teetered on the point of no return, seeing the slippery slope that Miyeon pulled you to. It dazed you and made you feel that knot in your stomach tighten. In your haze, you saw images of Minnie shifting before you: her smile, her sweet laugh, how she looked in that practice room the day she asked you out. But all those visions were torn from you by Miyeon’s soft gaze, a juxtaposition to her intent. The guilt your heart carried intensified its beating. You felt it in your temple down to your throat, hopelessly protesting. You looked down at your lap and saw something that made your heart fall from that point of no return. You were hard.

Miyeon followed your gaze, and you saw the idea form in her head. 

You blurted out with weak lungs as you shook your head in denial. “Miyeon, no. Please.”

“Nobody has to know. Not even her.”

Miyeon lifted her hand from your knee and placed it on the couch to prop herself up. Miyeon turned towards you as her face slowly approached the crook of your neck, just stopping by your ear. 

“It’s okay, baby. Relax.” She cooed. Her soft brown hair turned into a dangerous blur to your right as she toyed with you. Her exhales were hot on the side of your face as you struggled under her control, a small peek into the absolute power she has over you. Her colored nails trailed along the right side of your face as she pushed you to meet her gaze. She finally leaned into you as the dangerous brown blur filled your vision. You shut your eyes in response.

And there it went. All the built-up tension weighing on both of you — exploding into this first kiss that ultimately signalled the end of your friendship. All that passion and heat, finally poured — imbued — into a single action. You braced for the explosion. 

The kiss was soft. Oh God, was it soft. 

Her lips were gentle, tender. You smelled the green apple shampoo you saw her buy months ago. You tasted that sugary lip gloss you saw her apply every morning. You tasted Miyeon, devoid of the sun or the royalty you’ve come to know: just an idol. A celebrity. Your bestest friend. She was bare, vulnerable, fragile. In that moment — in those few precious seconds — she was yours; and by God were you never letting go.

You remember there being no urgency in the kiss. It wasn’t chaste, it was passionate. Lips remained where they were supposed to, never overstaying. But they also constantly moved, shifted, desperate to cover the unexplored with each other. Slight sounds and breaths served as your signals to one another: what worked, what didn’t. Miyeon led the kiss, stringing you along with her. Her fingers travelled gracefully across your neck and forearms, stopping on your jaw and in your hair. On instinct, you raised your own hands. Landing on her slim, toned waist, you gave her a gentle squeeze. You gripped firmly and set her on your lap, legs straddling you. Miyeon groaned into the kiss in response, further spurring you on and further embedding the depravity of it all. 

Then her tongue came. You felt it prod your bottom lip, a new sensation grazing against you, hoping to be let in. In truth, Miyeon didn’t need to hope. She was on top of this situation and knew what she was doing. Giving you the illusion of control, making you feel like you had a say, like you could do something, it exhilarated her, thrilled her. In turn, it thrilled you too. The ecstasy and pure rush of infidelity accentuated, regrettably, the more selfish parts of your mind. It fed your appetite, disassembling your morals, kicking out ego and superego simultaneously, leaving only your id at the helm.

You found the smooth line of her back with both hands and felt Miyeon’s body for the first time. You ran your digits along her spine, fingertips riding her curves, feeling every bump and shape. You made detours, U-turns, triggering small moans from the woman on top of you. But it wasn’t enough, you had to have more. Your hands, with a mind of their own, ventured hesitantly to the bottom of her sweater, craving to touch and feel skin. Sensing this, Miyeon broke off the kiss as she crossed her arms and helped you pull off the unnecessary purple barrier. 

Her flawless hips revealed themselves to you, inch by inch, as the sweater receded. Delicate mounds covered by a black bra slightly bounced with each minuscule movement, wide open to any advances you make. Her graceful neck and collarbone fought for your attention, begging to be touched, or kissed, or worshipped. Here she was, at your disposal, to do with whatever you hungered for, a meal fit for a king. So you dove right into the feast before you, sampling every appetizer, knowing you were the only patron tonight. The only patron ever.

Hands. Arms. Lips. Teeth. Tongue. You touched and felt Miyeon in all the ways possible, triggering spots that made her moan, hum, or wince excitedly. Her lithe fingers pushed against the back of your head, beckoning you to take more of her, to consume more of her. You reached around to unclasp her bra and hurriedly placed your lips back onto her skin. You trailed kisses from her clavicle all the way down to the top part of her chest. You graciously smothered yourself with the round flesh as you took a nipple into your mouth. Miyeon excitedly gasps as you tongued at the hardened bud, her fingers and nails harshly pulling on your scalp. It took quite a few minutes for Miyeon to pull your face away from her breasts and back up to her gaze. You stared back in wonder, finally seeing a different degree of Miyeon’s beauty for the first time, a rare type of beauty desired by many yet only seen by those deemed worthy. 

She stared at you, wide-eyed, chest heaving up and down. Her silky brown hair flowed effortlessly down to her shoulders and onto her elegant skin, a strand or two still lying on her cheek. You silently gulped as she sat on top of you. You were frozen, absolutely smitten. You felt it again. That serene silence, the ambience of you and Miyeon, waiting to be broken once more.

“Fuck me.” The vulgar request leapt from her mouth.

Right there and then, you knew that those words would forever be your favorite. Overcome by lust, you hungrily dove back to her lips, harshly kissing her dirty mouth. You tucked the stray hair back behind her ear as your hands returned to her luscious hips. Your fingers crept down the small of her back and stopped at the waistband of her shorts. 

“Go ahead, baby,” Miyeon whispered.

You dug your thumb underneath the garment and pulled downwards, cheekily bringing her panties along. Miyeon shifted to help you take them off, smiling into the kiss when she realized what you did. You soon pulled off your own sweatpants, finally freeing your flexed cock, wincing in anticipation. It stood in attention, just directly below Miyeon’s dripping cunt, waiting to pierce forbidden flesh.

With a hand on her ass and one on your cock, you gently lowered Miyeon and her soaking lips. You felt her intense warmth slowly approach the tip of your cock, breaching the velvety walls and roughly sliding into her tightness. With a small inhale, Miyeon dropped herself, her succulent thighs slamming onto your lap. You filled Miyeon, her splayed pussy gripping the hilt. You both gasped in unison, this newfound sensation destroying all your previous thoughts of morals and principles. You were in too deep.

Miyeon inhaled sharply once more, her walls rubbed against your shaft as she twitched in pleasure. She roughly pushed your face against her chest as she hugged your head, her soaking pussy clenching and tightening. 

“God, fuck, you’re big. Fuck fuck fuck.” Miyeon moaned, her face almost pointing up to the ceiling, arched back and all. Without waiting to adjust to your size, Miyeon immediately shifted and ground her hips against yours. “Is this what you meant when you said we fit?” she breathed out in a sexy whisper.

“Shut up.” You chuckled into her sweaty skin. Your chest rose and fell as you held onto Miyeon, burying your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling more of that green apple scent. You helped the princess ride you, her ass bouncing each time she slammed herself back down, the explicit sound of slapping skin filling your living room and your head. You tasted the saltiness of her sweat, building up on each corner of her fine neck as she used your rigid cock to chase her own peak. With both hands on her ass, you stared at each other, open-mouthed, gasping, whispering each other’s name. You gave her round cheeks a nice squeeze, bringing out a squeal from Miyeon. 

Having had enough, you abruptly placed both hands back on her hips and thrusted upwards, meeting her as she came back down. The sudden force shocked Miyeon, her limbs grabbing and wrapping around you on instinct, allowing you to lift more of her body for your own pleasure. You brought Miyeon up each time, dropping her and slamming your cock upwards in unison. You felt every inch of her steamy walls on your shaft, every spot that made Miyeon scream and mewl, making sure to hit each one as you thrusted. Incoherent noises and whispers ran down your right ear and neck as Miyeon held onto you, perfectly fine with the way you fucked her and used her raw. You released tight-lipped grunts as you sucked on her collarbone, making up for all the times she wore shirts that showed off her gorgeous neck.

“Shit, right there, right there! God, shit, you’re fucking perfect!” Miyeon screamed. 

Thinking back now, she wasn’t so bad herself.

You fucked her like that for a while, the numerous yesses and drunk utterings of your name keeping your performance consistent, your thrusts deep, and the act visceral. The repeated movement dulled your senses, hardwiring your brain, reprogramming basic instincts, and boiling it down to just fucking Miyeon. 

Fuelled by hunger and driven by lust, you soon felt the familiar wall approaching. Your thrusts became erratic, uneven, the perfect rhythm of your bodies now absent. You felt every inch of Miyeon’s walls grasping your hard cock, squelching and squeezing the hot flesh, signalling you to release. You gritted your teeth as you faced Miyeon once more, her eyes closed, lost. Lost in the heat, pleasure, betrayal, and the utter excitement of it all. Soon her eyes opened, finding yours once more. You saw her eyes flash as she stared, glazed over with lust and something else, something deeper. You’ve never really known what that was. You’ve never had the guts to ask.

“Miyeon I-“ you started, your grip on her back tightening as you fought to stave off your orgasm, waiting for her signal.

Miyeon gasped sharply as she felt you grow harder, loading up and about to burst any minute. “I know, baby, I know.” She sputters. “I-I’m…fuck. Me too. Me too.” The erotic jiggle of her curves as you slammed upwards only gave way to the overwhelming peak both of you were approaching. 

“Wher–“

“Inside! Inside! Fucking cum inside me, baby. Please!” Miyeon screamed out, her fingernails stinging, almost piercing your scalp. 

Miyeon raised your head once more, bringing you in for one last open-mouthed kiss, tongues meeting and battling once again. You harshly slammed her back down on your throbbing cock all the way to the hilt, the tip reaching up inside her lustful cavern. Your loaded balls finally got their release as your cock twitched. 

You came violently. Your load came shooting up and into her steamy body, shot after shot of pure white ecstasy. Ropes and strands of semen, finally finding their escape. Your fingernails dig deep into her hips and her asscheek, burying yourself deeper into Miyeon’s slick pussy. 

Miyeon wasn’t one to be beaten either. As you felt your orgasm erupt, her pussy tightens and contracts. You felt her gush and ooze as her fluids came rushing down, meeting your own. You felt her slick on your stiff cock, all the way down to your empty balls. She twitched occasionally, receiving every drop of your love with courtesy. Miyeon cursed and screamed endlessly, biting her lip as she felt you fill her to the brim.

Waves of the orgasm rushed over both of you as you stilled, faces atop each other’s shoulders. Your arms that wrapped around Miyeon’s body never slacked, still taking a hold of the precious woman, never allowing her to fall. Simultaneous inhales and exhales, soft squeezes, and last-minute pecks were all you were able to do. There was a strange sweetness to it all, the aftercare clearly genuine and soothing.

That was the best orgasm you’ve ever had, and Miyeon knew. Little did you know that was hers as well. The deed was done, your fate sealed, your heart heavy, and your faith broken. Your mind flashed back to Minnie’s photo, leaving a sick feeling in your core. You shook your head, attempting to bury the immense guilt in your stomach. 

Unaware of this, Miyeon finally let go. Her scattered hair, reddish collarbone, and slightly bruised curves were on full display as she placed both hands on your cheek. She grinned at you with heavy eyelids. You scanned the digital clock on your side-drawer. 3:24.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” She whispered, kissing your cheek. You felt your face flush with heat as you suddenly blushed. She gave a tired giggle as she propped her head on your shoulder, leaning into you, her breathing finally slowing. You stared at her for a while, waiting for her to fall asleep, her dimple still on display. You grasped the princess and finally lay on your couch, draping a spare blanket over both of your sweaty figures. You stared at the top of Miyeon’s head, contemplating whether to give her one last kiss or not. You didn’t. Your heavy lids fell as you lay your head back on the couch, exhaustion finally setting in.

-

You woke up around 5-ish, feeling Miyeon shuffle against your body, squeezing herself into your arms. You stiffened, remembering the ungodly events of your night together. You gulped nervously as you slowly lowered your gaze to the top of Miyeon’s head against your bare chest. You stared at your clothes, scattered and draped all over your furniture; your laptop, still open with the file you worked on last night; your phone lay neatly on the table, overturned and unaware. Your breathing slightly quickened, going through scripts and monologues of possible excuses and false stories that would properly explain what happened between you and Miyeon. 

You shook your head. No. Nothing happened. Just a regular night. 

The shameful lie left a bitter taste in your mouth, a taste that was quickly becoming too familiar.

Feeling your chest rise and fall quicker than usual, Miyeon buried her head further into your chest, grumbling.

“Mmm, she’s not gonna find out,” Miyeon muttered against your body, eyes still closed, attempting to grab onto her last hope of sleep.

“This was fucking wrong, Miyeon. I have to tell her.” You whispered.

“And risk breaking her heart?” 

“What about mine? I feel awful. She trusted me.”

“And she still does.” Miyeon corrected. 

Miyeon finally lifted her head, meeting your gaze, her smirk the first thing you saw behind her draping hair.

”You just don’t tell her.” She followed up.

Miyeon yawned for a moment before leaning into your ear. You felt her hands untangle from your neck as they trailed down your torso and onto your already-stiff cock. Her fingers wrapped around the tip, lightly rubbing against the underside.

“Miyeon wha—.”

“Besides...” Miyeon stroked your cock gently. “I don’t think you mind at all, right? Baby?” 

“Bu—“

“You could’ve stopped me, you know?” Miyeon taunted quietly, her strokes getting faster and faster. “You could have stopped me, and I would have listened.” Confusion and pleasure rushed to your brain, your heart rate picking up again as your cock throbbed against her hand. Fight and flight responses melted together, frying your brain and rendering you useless.

“But you didn’t.” Miyeon egged you on, her grasp on you twisting and slowing down all of a sudden, the rush of satisfaction snatched away from you. Your hips involuntarily bucked in protest, desperate to feel the illicit friction. You released a pent-up groan as Miyeon stopped entirely. A smile crept up on her face, finally satisfied with your response. You’ve happily lain in the trap she set.

“Oh? I thought this was wrong, Mr. Chastity?” Miyeon quipped, arrogantly keeping you and your orgasm in check and in her hand.

Your dry throat failed to even croak out a response. You felt the adrenaline rush to your veins as you stared at Miyeon, her beady eyes staring right back at you. Her fingertips would graze your tip lightly, making you wince and twitch at the unfair situation. You saw the malevolent creature residing behind Miyeon’s eyes, a force of pure lust and sex, torturing you slowly and methodically. 

“Well? I should stop now, right?” Miyeon’s tongue flicked along your lips. The serpentine seductress, under the guise of pursed lips and innocent shrugs, established the standstill you found yourselves in.

Miyeon’s nails travelled up your length, leaving one-by-one, finally departing your steaming rod, your orgasm now drifting further and further away. 

Miyeon relented. “Alright then. I’ll stop. You’ve made your—”

Your hand shot down to grab Miyeon’s wrist. Desire surged in your temple, disconnecting once more your principles and morals. This time, you searched for the point of no return, craving that rush you felt when falling from it. 

You gulped as you stopped Miyeon, your hunger gradually growing and deepening. You wanted it. You needed it. So your hand tightened around Miyeon’s wrist, her fingers still wrapped around your length.

And you slowly jerked yourself off with Miyeon’s hand.

You pushed and pulled her palm along your cock, rubbing and grazing along the grooves of Miyeon’s hand. You leaned into her collar, slightly moaning as you thrusted in and out of her curled fingers. Thoughts of Minnie were long gone at that point. You shut your eyes as you buried yourself into the right side of Miyeon’s neck, focusing only on the pleasure. The taboo was part of the excitement now, the infidelity a mere thing of the past, and the guilt an aphrodisiac.

Miyeon chuckled. You felt her lips touch your right ear, giving you a small peck as she withdrew your hand from her wrist and placed it on her hips.

“Like this, baby?” the she-devil whispered, her hand twisting and stroking. 

You endured the goading with gritted teeth, stuck between wanting release and wanting to feel that pleasure forever. You nodded slightly. Miyeon did her very best to indulge you.

“You’re so big in my hand, baby. So fucking big.” Her low, alluring voice persisted in your ear while she stroked and pumped your shaft.

You moaned out a hot breath, hitting the hair on Miyeon’s neck, causing her to groan in your ear. Her fingers shifted, her grip changing, her speed picking up. Miyeon ran her thumb over the tip, now lathering pre-cum on her hand and down your shaft.

“Yeah, you like this baby? You like how I jerk you off? How I pump you, and stroke you, and please you? Fuck you’re so hard. So fucking big and hard for me. And it’s all mine.” 

Your wet cock twitched in Miyeon’s grasp, signalling your impending orgasm, arriving considerably quicker this time. Miyeon noticed, her strokes now building up faster and faster.

“You’re gonna fucking cum for me, baby? Yeah? Are you close, hmm? Oh baby, you’re fucking throbbing. You wanna cum all over my hand that badly? Cum all over my fingers while I jerk you off? God, shit, I’m so fucking wet. Go on, baby, yeah. Cum for me. Cum on my hand, baby. Come on. Give it to me. Give me every. Last. Fucking. Drop.”

You busted quick into Miyeon’s hand that morning. Streams of thick cum landed on her skin, the hot fluid staining and sullying her palm and some part of her thighs. You inhaled deeply, the exhaustion weighing on you more than you expected. You felt light-headed and drained. But ultimately satisfied.

Miyeon deliberately licked her palm in front of you, her eyes peeking and reappearing behind wet fingers. Her features stared evilly, the Devil having made her explicit point. The deal was set in stone now, the act binding both of you, your very soul as collateral. You stared at the dimple on her gorgeous cheek, wondering why it was there again. Or why it never seemed to leave. 

Miyeon gave you one last kiss on the cheek before finally exiting your embrace. You laid on your couch, tired, confused, and frustrated. You touched the cheek Miyeon kissed, red and blushing.

-

You never told Minnie. You couldn’t. 

The rest of the day went by as painstakingly slow as possible, sowing nervous seeds inside your mind as you anticipated a confrontation with your girlfriend. You expected a shout, or a slap, or a shove from Minnie when you saw her in the company later in the day. But it never came.

The guilt rotted your stomach the moment Minnie’s eye lit up as she ran to you for a hug. The same arms that bruised and groped Miyeon’s curves hugged Minnie as she wrapped herself around you. You kissed the top of Minnie’s head on instinct, your girlfriend replaced with the image of Miyeon’s naked body all bundled up against yours. You felt awful seeing Minnie’s smile, seeing just how deep the love she felt for you was. From then on, you vowed never to break her heart again. The thing with Miyeon was done, it meant nothing, and it will never be anything.

You didn’t stop Miyeon. You couldn’t.

Miyeon would grab any opportunity she could find just to meet you. A day off, a lunch break, a behind-the-scenes shooting, when the mood struck Miyeon, you’d know. The two of you would commit the ungodly act behind locked doors, closed spaces, and sometimes even secluded tunnels (a story for another time). Once you felt that familiar buzz from your phone, the blood would rush to your length, flexing in anticipation. It was like you were conditioned, a skewed, perverted Pavlovian experiment exploiting your baser instincts. 

Before you knew it, your feet were moving. You strode down long hallways, maneuvering and navigating any obstacles that stood in your way. Your speed shocked you at times, leaving you wondering just how intense your need was. You’d catch yourself looking for Miyeon even before she sent a text, finding her on her phone and being greeted with a sly smile. Your sexcapades were fiery, explosive, and mind-numbingly great that each promise you’ve told yourself never to come back was broken every single time. Miyeon knew how to get to you and pressure you just enough to make your resolve crumble. Then in just a flash, the clothes were off, your tongue on her blushed and sweaty cheeks, and your length deep inside her warmth.

“One…last…time.” Miyeon would usually gasp out as you fucked her. “Just one last time, baby.” She would coo between rough breaths.

Did you believe her? For a bit. But then you got used to it by your 5th “last time” with her. In a twisted way, each tryst with Miyeon makes you fuck her like it’s really the last time, inadvertently making her appetite unwavering, roaring, and never dormant. You would pound her needy cunt, giving your all (maybe even spraining a hip or two) in the hopes it would somehow reset a circuit in her brain and unlatch off you. Next thing you know, you’re on your 12th last time, gripping Miyeon’s sexy fucking ass as you plough her against the padded recording room.

-

“Did you turn off the camera?” Miyeon whispered in your ear as she held onto your broad shoulders.

Fuck. You remembered it was one of I-DLE’s behind-the-scenes vlogs for their promotion week. You froze as you carried her weight, slowly turning your head to the small Sony camera in the corner, its red recording dot blipping on and off.

Oh, motherfucker.

You quickly untangled your limbs from Miyeon’s and prepared to pull out when her graceful legs clung tighter around your waist. She ground against you, locking your meat inside her, as she held onto the sides of your face.

“No. Cum inside me on camera.”

“You can’t be serious,” you sputtered in disbelief.

“It’s not that hard to delete footage.”

“Yeah, it’s not that hard to turn a fucking camera off either,” you snapped back.

“So pull out then.”

There it was again– another dare. This was the game. The game where, unfortunately, Miyeon was pro. It was clearly your turn. 

And yet, nothing. Silence.

Miyeon took the chance to slowly pepper kisses on the side of your face, trailing all the way down your jaw and to your neck. Her fingers ran through your hair as her nails grazed your scalp, a wave of tingles, each running down your spine. You released an involuntary groan. 

Her lips closed in on your ear, giving the helix a long, slow, and taunting lick. Miyeon breathed out a moan in your ear and whispered. “C’mon then, baby. Pull out,” she coaxed feignedly.

Well? Pull out!, you thought. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The world remained still, your girth still residing in her.

Fuck it. You gripped her body tighter as you slammed her back against the foam-padded walls of the recording studio. Your lips latched onto her collarbone as your teeth bit and purpled the skin. You rammed yourself back up into her warmth, your digits greedily coveting the curves of her ass and thighs.

The woman yelped in delight as she felt your renewed vigor, her grip on your hair tightening. Her other hand wrapped around you, welcoming you back into her pleasure, as her nails dug in and scratched your back. You gritted your teeth as you fucked her through the stings, gasps, and whimpers.

Always having the last word, Miyeon laughed out breathlessly, dimple on display, as you finished inside. 

“That’s what I thought.”

-

The work day ended a few hours after that illicit meeting. You stood alone in the cold Seoul night, the mist of your breath twisting and curling weightlessly.

“Finally! Let’s go.” Minnie exhaled as she skipped down the company building’s welcoming steps, her fuchsia puffer crinkling as she interlocked her arms with yours. Enveloped by a wool scarf, Minnie grinned at you. “C’mon!”

Both of you started your stroll down the tiled sidewalk, on the hunt for a quick bite before heading home. 

“You in the mood for soup?” you hummed. 

“Hmm…” Minnie put a quick finger to her cheek as she thought for a moment. 

“That’s cute,” you chuckled.

“What’s cute?”

“That,” you emphasized. “The whole face you’re doing.”

“Hey! This is my thinking face!” Minne put on a quick pout but relented. “Soup’s good for me, baby.” Minnie smiled, igniting a few embers in your heart, the heat rising to your ears as you blushed.

With soup on the agenda, you and Minnie sauntered down a busy street, looking through several shops and kitchens, hoping to find refuge from the winter bite.

Your phone vibrates. 

Typical of Cube, texting on the off-hours. You pulled your phone out, awaiting the familiar news of a scheduling conflict in your texts. Your right hand remained interlocked with Minnie’s. 

Miyeon.

Your smile immediately vanished, cheeks now lowered with a frown. You tapped the message open as you gulped down trepidation.

It was a video from the camera. That video. 

No. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t dare, you thought.

And yet she did. That’s all she did. Dare. Vex. Rile.

Ignite.

You scrambled to dim the phone’s brightness with your left hand, panic setting in your nerves as, unbeknownst to her, your girlfriend looks for a suitable restaurant.

It was surreal, feeling your heart rattle and beat so loudly you felt it in your temple despite it sinking to your stomach. Your hand trembled, your thumb shaking as it hovered above the Play icon in the middle of the thumbnail, conveniently covering where you and Miyeon’s bodies connected intimately.

A second message pops up.

“You’re amazing, baby.”

You exhaled weakly, your phone now a ticking time bomb, ready to destroy everything good you had going on in your life.

You lost the spring in your step, Minnie’s voice now serving as background noise to your dread. A couple of mhmms and yeses were all you uttered, cognition clearly failing.

“Baby?”

You whiplash back into reality, to the task at hand — Minnie.

“No, yeah, that sounds great!” Your phone clicked as you turned it off. What was Minnie talking about?

“It’s fine.” Minnie smiles and chuckles dryly, waving it off weakly.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pretend,” you admitted. “It’s just— there’s another scheduling conflict, I’m going to have to find another slot, and it’s just derailed this month’s activities,” you lied.

“I said it’s fine, baby,” Minnie started. “I know how stressful it is.”

Minnie nodded and looked up as pale light drenched her features, exquisitely sculpting her face. You hurriedly put an arm around Minnie, rubbing her shoulder, desperate to get back on her good side.

Minnie stared up into the sky. 

“The moon’s extra bright tonight, huh?”

Dinner tasted more guilt than soup that night.

-

So, now you’re reminiscing on a Saturday. You never fully talked to Miyeon for a good 2 weeks after that video incident. The whole week was simply clock in, do your work, have it checked, then clock out. Hell, the only conversation you had with Miyeon was working out a hair and make-up slot, never about anything else. Never about dramas, food, or even the weather.

Never about you two.

And so you guys never met up.

Well, she had hit up your phone every once in a while, whenever the mood seemed to strike her. But every time her name popped up on that phone screen, you’d seize up, frozen and palpitating. Then you would start hyperventilating.

 And then eventually, you would get mad.

Mad at Miyeon? Oh yeah, definitely. It’s that type of flashbulb mad — just instantaneous irritation with her. You’d think about her the whole time — her face, the meetings, that dimple — and you’d just fume. And so you worked, and worked, sublimating those intense feelings you harbored (ironically, you received a pat on the back from a higher-up for being so efficient, too).

It was the same for Minnie. With a comeback in mind, Soyeon needed to write a couple of songs to build up their concept. Minnie volunteered and has been taking the time to write her song. You’d check in on her once in a while, but knowing Minnie, she’d already hyper-focused and was immune to any form of distraction.

Looking back, you probably needed that routine of simply working. That cycle of mundane reset a circuit in you, as the once dysregulated nervous system now settles down, with signals and impulses not firing on all cylinders. You liked having everything under control — just smooth, smooth sailing. The next thing you know, it’s finally 5. Laptop in your bag, computer turned off, you locked up your office and took the elevator down.

You shot Minnie a quick text before taking a cab home.

“I’m heading home, baby. How’s the song?” you asked.

“The song’s coming along great so far, just a few tweaks for Soyeon, and then it’ll be done. Will work a bit late, so be safe, okay?”

“I will. Text me when you get home.”

You click your phone shut, grab a taxi, and head home. 

Jingling your keys, you round the corner of the apartment complex, bounding towards your door.

Clad in a sleek black satin nightdress, the Devil leaned on the wall just beside your door. Her dark brown hair cascaded down her cheeks and curving off her shoulders, framing her face but covering her neckline greedily. Her smooth thighs and toned legs extended out from the dastardly short hemline, scarlet red stilettos making her a tad bit taller. Hearing you fumble for your keys, her eyes met yours as soon as you turned the corner, her predatory gaze glinting for a split second.

“Hey,” she coos with a slight tilt to her head, dimple already showing.

Your heart races as your jaw tightens.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you manage to croak out.

Her stilettos tap the hallway as she approaches you. You observe her subtle sashay, both of her legs eager to catch your attention. She stops just a few inches in front of you, her sharp features now coming into full view. 

“I just wanted to see you,” she puts on a faux pout.

“You crossed a line.”

“Oh boo-hoo, I’ve sent you things before,” she taunts.

“I was with her, Miyeon.”

The intensity of leer eases, eyebrows slowly backing off. “I…I didn’t know.”

“Oh fuck that.” You push past her and unlock the door, physically putting that conversation away and refusing to indulge her any further.

It seems you weren’t too quick, as Miyeon adeptly puts a palm on the door, effectively letting herself in, eager to keep up the tirade.

“I swear, I didn’t know,” she pipes up. “I would never do that to her, you know that.”

“And yet you did!” you rebut. You never raised your voice at Miyeon, not even if you got mad. But not this time. You were furious. You were heated, and it’s all been bubbling up till now. Heat rose from your core as it seeped through your face.

“You did! You sent that video, the same stupid video I told you to get rid of!” You raise a finger, gaining momentum to say more, but quickly shake your head. “I should have deleted it then,” you mutter.

The woman breathes slowly, her eyes slightly watery. “I didn’t know…” Miyeon whimpers.

“You know what? That is your problem, Miyeon– you never know! You don’t stop to think and know, you just do!” you argue. 

“Which is why we’re here in the first place,” you add under your breath.

She stares at you in shock, speechless, obviously hurt. Even in the middle of your quaint interior design and weak apartment lighting, she looked eerily breathtaking. Your heart aches.

Miyeon opens her mouth to speak, but hesitates. She thinks for a moment before replying, eyebrows stern now.

“You don’t get to put this all on me,” Miyeon says.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t get to put this all on me. You’re in this just as much as I am.” Miyeon says matter-of-factly.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, this is so you. So what, you’ve just been fucking me all this time because I told you to?” Miyeon crossed her arms.

You’re taken aback, unable to reply.

“Oh, baby. I’ve always given you an out.” Miyeon closes the distance and leans in to whisper. “You’ve just never taken them.”

Miyeon quickly backs off and shrugs. “I’m not saying I’m an angel, but I’m not all devil, baby.” Her eyes flash briefly as she says that.

“Oh that is such bullshit, Miyeon, you know that.”

“Is it? You’ve come onto me just as much as I’ve come onto you— metaphorically and literally,” she barks.

“It’s just…It’s you! Who can say no when you’re grinding yourself on me and whispering into my ear?”

“Please have some level of accountability.” Her words drip with condescening weight. “It’s not my fault a different head does the thinking for you.”

“You can’t be serious…”

Miyeon shrugs and turns around,  deciding to take a stroll around your apartment, taking in the various pictures and decorations. You stay planted in where you stood.

After a quick circle around the room, Miyeon saunters back over to you. “So,” she clicks her tongue. “Here’s what I think. I’m obviously hurt by what you said, so I’m gonna need an apology,” Miyeon quipped. “And make it good.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s kinda the idea, baby.” Miyeon quips as she stares up at you with a cocky smirk. 

Seeing your unshifting gaze, she rolls her eyes and lets out a defeated sigh. 

“We’ve already had this argument a hundred times. You have won none of those. So save me the white knight act and fuck me,” She gives your cheek a few light slaps, finally getting her adorable pet to obey. “Hm, baby?” 

Your face is inches from hers as you continue to stare at her.

You exhale, steeling yourself, as you crouch down to pick her up.

Miyeon yelps as she laces her arms around your neck, grabbing onto your shoulders. You grip her legs tightly as you carry her to your room.

With a bit of fiddling, you open the door hurriedly. You throw the woman on the bed, her hair splayed widely but still, somehow, some way, picture perfect. She looks up at you and giggles lightly. You quickly unbuckle and throw your pants off as you kneel close to Miyeon. With rough hands, you harshly spread her legs to rip her underwear off. Your brusque movements catch Miyeon off guard as she squeals. 

“Hey! C’mon, slow down.” She chuckles as she grasps your arm, attempting to stop you.

You pin her arms back down on the bed, shaking off her suggestion. Miyeon’s forehead scrunches as you manhandle her. You finally roll her panties off and throw them to the side. You come in closer, preparing to enter her.

“Hey!” Miyeon protests. “I said slow down.” Her eyes pleaded, the tinge of seduction now gone.

“You wanted it good, right? Well, this is it. This is good,” you bark back, chest heaving up and down now, heart beating faster. You lean in and start kissing her neck, leaving a few bites here and there.

Miyeon squirms a bit, uncomfortable. “I’m serious, stop.”

You sit back up. “What now?” you snap. You stare down at her for a few silent seconds. Your grip on Miyeon’s arms slackens.

She takes this moment to lower her arms back down. She sits up from under you and places a hand on your cheek. Warm. Sweet.

“Hey,” she softens, voice soothing now. Miyeon somberly tilts her head, finding your gaze.

You crumble. You lean your head into her hand, and you close your eyes.

Miyeon sees this and slowly pulls your head in, arms wrapping around you in a serene hug. You sniff. Green apple.

With a hand supporting the back of your head, and the other rubbing up and down your back, Miyeon croons. “Shh, it’s okay.”

Both of you hold each other, not speaking or moving, just breathing.

You traded your apartment walls for Miyeon’s arms, finding comfort in her seclusion as you vanish within her. There it is again– both of you drifting off into space, stars zooming past as you embrace for what seems like a million light-years. Both of you floated, lingering and enveloping one another. Your heart pounded.

Miyeon was the first to pull back– not out of dislike, but to look at you finally. She cups your chin and raises your head. Her eyes sparkle as she gets you to look at her back. 

There it was. Again. You picked up on the familiar depth to her gaze, those layers upon layers of unknown. What was that?

You nod and slowly place her hands down, your pulse just hammering away at your wrist. You scoot away from Miyeon and stare at her squarely. You needed to tell her.

And so you did.

“I used to have feelings for you, y’know.”

Your apartment walls come snapping back into place. You burn through the atmosphere and come crashing down, back onto your bed. You gulped down a piece of your nervousness and continued.

“Gosh, I liked you a lot, Miyeon,” you stammered. “I loved going to work because of you.”

Miyeon’s eyes widen, her gaze wanting to catch all of you in the moment. She stilled even more.

You push further. “You were just this bright person, Miyeon. You had this sort of warm light inside you that I couldn’t get enough of. Every room you went to, that light would just overflow, and I would drink it all up. Heck, I would listen to you talk on and on if it meant I saw that light every day.”

You choke up. “And I kinda did, y’know? We spent so much time together as friends, I guess I was fine burying whatever I felt for you. And I got used to that too– seeing you as a friend. But then…” You trail off. 

“Look, I didn’t mean to pin it all on you and just dodge the accountability. I could have stopped this anytime, too. I’m sorry,” you continue. “Anyway, I have to tell Minnie, too.” You recollect for a bit and chuckle sadly to yourself.

“Why are you telling me this?” Miyeon mumbles, a slight quiver in her voice.

You start sniffling as you pinch your nose. You chuckle a bit. “It’s so stupid. I’m okay with being friends. But this…” You gesture to both of you. “I can’t anymore.”

The woman before you remains silent, nodding in understanding. She fixes the strap of her nightdress, the one lowered by your prior advances, as she stares back at you.

You continue. “Every time I look at you, I just seize up. Every time our eyes meet, I just melt,” you sigh as you slowly stand up to fix your clothes and some of the scattered pillows.

“Despite everything, Miyeon..” you start. “The secret meetings, the dumb conversations– the wrongness of it all. Even if I vow to stay away and never talk to you ever again– even then– I’m positive I’ll always be yours.”

“What...?” Miyeon tries to speak up, only releasing a small whisper.

You begin to ramble. “It’s you, Miyeon. It’s you. I wanted the whole thing with you– the real thing. I fucking wanted it desperately. Oh God, but when I saw you beam just being friends, I couldn’t do that to you. Fuck, I know, I know. It’s an easy cop-out, this whole ‘white knight’ routine, but seeing you happy made me happy,” you whine. “So we can’t do this anymore, this…this shit. I wanted this to be real so bad– the things we did, the kissing, the staring, the hugging. Because, in a way, it felt like that: real. But it’s not. I don’t wanna lie and just fuck– I can’t do that to you. I can’t settle for just a part of you; I need all of you. That sounds so fucked up to say, and I know it’s too late, and everything’s just fucked now, and there’s still Minnie, but I am absolutely in lo—”

Miyeon lunges forward to capture your lips in a kiss. You melt into her.

Both of you broke apart as Miyeon leaned back to look at you. She whispered, smiling at you softly with both hands on your face. 

“Me too, me too.”

The subtle light of your lamp to the side bounces off Miyeon’s gaze, two pools of twinkling space just locked on yours. Her touch is care, your face cradled between appreciative thumbs, stroking your cheek. There was a newfound tenderness in her grasp– arms and fingers that caressed, yet also safeguarded. 

That’s when it clicked. The thing that lingered– you see it now, ever clear. It was always there; in the first few seconds your eyes met when the work day started, whenever you caught her observing you while you worked– hell, the first time you fucked it was there. It was always there.

It was always there in your eyes, too.

“You’re dazzling,” the woman whispers. “You’ve always been dazzling to me.”

“So all this time…?”

“I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, you fucking idiot,” Miyeon sighs defeatedly while biting the corner of her lip, staring at you, analyzing. “I waited for so long, too. I should have just told you then what I felt, instead of letting it get to, well, this. I’m sorry I got carried away…I didn’t mean to pressure you, or manipulate you, or anything! It’s just— I just took what I could get…” she lamented softly with a shake of her head. 

Both of you hang onto each other, suspended in liminality, unsure of what to do next but not wanting to move either. Miyeon broke the silence first.

“I’m not letting you go…” she admits.

“I know,” you nod in response. “But, we have to tell Minnie.”

Miyeon solemnly nods in agreement, committing to confess alongside you. She sat there in front of you, drawing circles on the palm of your hand, touching you tenderly. “I’m not a bad person…” she wanes.

Miyeon laughs— the same weak and futile laugh, buffering but betraying a deep sadness and the arrival of tears. The same heart that beat for you, ached at the wrong she’s done to Minnie, her bandmate, her sister.

You pull up her palms and place them on your shoulders, scooting her waist a bit closer as you hold her tight. “I know…I know you aren’t,” you say with a kiss on top of her head — the same kiss you hesitated on before, finally finding its home.

Eons pass by as you soothe her, fingers riding up and down her lithe back, dipping between curves and running through her waves of hair. It feels unreal how a change in context, a shift in tides, a confession of love makes even physical contact with Miyeon so intimate. You cradled royalty, you saw golden hour, you kissed lightning, and you breathed her eternity. This feeling lingered beneath both your skins, a new kind of intimacy, but one you’ve felt like you’ve known forever.

Miyeon, now a little bit calmer, looks up at you to give you a quick peck. You kiss back. She does too. The atmosphere soon shifts as her fingers tighten in your hair. Her teeth graze your lower lip as she leans back.

 Her dimple reappears. Of course it does, you thought.

The she-devil makes a grand entrance of heat and green apple. Miyeon’s eyes sparkle with a growing hunger, a smirk slowly forming.

“Don’t you owe me an apology?” she asks innocently, pout and dimple plastered on her devilish features.

You click your tongue sternly. “We have to tell Minnie. Now.”

“And we will. Just…maybe, possibly, after a couple of minutes?” she looks up, coyly.

You stare down at her in your arms, thinking.

“Let me have you, finally have you. Without all the extra bullshit,” she pleads.

Miyeon thinks for a bit. “But you can tell me no, too. I won’t…I-I’m not, I’m not like that. I won’t be like that anymore.”

You lean in to kiss her. “Okay, baby,” you say, giving her a reassuring smile. You kiss her one last time, taking a tad bit longer, electricity running through the contact.

As your lips dance, Miyeon runs a nail up from your throat to your jawline, eliciting a groan from you. She leaves you open-mouthed, her tongue prodding yours lightly— teasing you before diving back in.

You run both your hands down her smooth nightie and stop at the small of her back, lingering, asking permission.

Miyeon smiles through a kiss. “Go ahead, baby.”

You venture downwards and lift the hem of her nightdress up, exposing the plump curves of her asscheeks. You squeeze both, gripping them as you bring her crotch closer to yours. Miyeon sat on top of you, moaning as your fingers clenched and groped. Sensing what you wanted, the woman rolled her hips for you, grinding her already wet slit against your bulge. Both of you moan in unison, breath colliding as you melded closer and closer, grinding and humping each other, two gluttons for more physical intimacy. Your hips buck up a bit, driving your bulge roughly against Miyeon’s soaking pussy, making her mewl and cry out.

“I missed you,” Miyeon says with an inhale of your musk. She grabs the hair on the back of your head, tilting you upwards as she grinds on you deeper. She takes this moment to lick from your Adam's apple all the way up to your chin, her hot breath coating your neck. Her other hand leaves your cheek and travels sneakily between your bodies, finding your straining bulge. Her slender fingers wrap around your tent, stroking and rubbing you through the material. Her thumb finds your frenulum, lightly running circles just underneath your tip. Tingles shoot down from your neck as you groan involuntarily.

“Stand up, baby,” Miyeon says with a lick to your earlobe. “I need to taste you.”

You tongue Miyeon’s gasping mouth one last time before finally unwrapping yourself from her limbs. You stand at the foot of the bed with your erection poking through your shorts and pointing at the she-devil now laying on her stomach, looking up at you with eyes that seek only one thing: to consume. The once brief flashes of flame that flickered in her soul were now raging infernoes that were set loose instead of reigned in by calculated control. Your shaft strained against the confines, flexing in anticipation of Miyeon’s mouth and tongue, seemingly magnetized by the impending paradise and the promise of release.

You pull your shorts down immediately, finally exposing your stiffened cock, shaft pulsing with strength. Miyeon looks up at you with open-mouthed breaths and wraps her fingers around the base. Your knees buckle slightly and you groan as she finally holds you, stroking slowly, gauging your reactions, moaning as she feels how aroused you currently are for her. Her warm exhales only make your cock flex and wince even more, your shaft straining as it pleads to be licked and wrapped in her soft, slick, and warm mouth. Miyeon, having had enough of stroking, tilts your dick upwards and catches your gaze, daring you to watch what she does next.

You watch her head slowly lean in at the base of your cock and she licks all the way to the tip.

You almost orgasm as her slick spit offers a different sort of sensation that makes something inside you bolder, hungrier, greedier. Your hands immediately hold onto her hair as she looks up at you, gaze alternating between a faux “Am I doing this right?” and a deep sentience that screamed “Look at what you’re making me do”. Your fingers curl and lock around Miyeon’s hair as the pleasure picks up, her head now bobbing and moving up and down your length, eager to show you just how much absence has made her heart grow fonder. You reciprocate by closing your eyes, cutting off the visual information to enhance the senses that fired as Miyeon deepthroated you, and driving your cock deeper into her mouth, riding along her flicking tongue. With a groan, Miyeon pops your meat out from her lips, a thin stripe of spit extending between, and then takes your balls into her mouth. Her soft hand jerks your cock as she pays each of your testicles her dues.

“God, fuck, Miyeon…”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, baby? You like it when I stroke your huge fucking cock like this, baby, hm?” she coos in between strokes now, her pace quickening as she twists her hand whenever she approaches the base.

“Yes, fuck, yes, please, oh fuck,” you manage to groan out, overcome with waves and waves of pleasure as your cock is stroked and swallowed in turns. “Keep going, baby, please.”

“Oh my poor baby, missing my touch like this,” Miyeon whispered as her eyes kept staring at you, overwhelmed and overstimulated. She opens up again and wraps her lips around the head, tongue circling just underneath the tip. Miyeon gags as she takes you in, cheeks puffing as she breathed through the deepthroat.

Miyeon expertly works your whole length through her mouth, licking and enveloping your shaft in tight velvet, all while looking up at you indulging yourself. You fuck her mouth a few more times before feeing that slight tremble of orgasm. Your tip grazes the back of her throat again, prompting her to gag and groan out. Your mind dulls and your hips piston in and out, driving your erection into more uncharted territory, greedily chasing a release Miyeon felt in the pulse of your vein.

You pull out for a bit. “I’m gonna—“

“On my fucking face!” she gasps out. 

You obey as you thrust back in a few times, chasing the last few seconds before pulling out. Miyeon’s hand is on you in an instant, stroking your spit-lathered cock, aiming it at her face.

“Come on baby, let it out for me. Oh baby, please let it out. Cum for me, cum all over my face, baby. Oh, you’re so fucking big in my hand, baby. Fuck, I feel it coming. Cum for me, baby, please?” The she-devil riled you with glazed eyes, an open mouth, and a pink tongue flattened, ready to be blessed.

You feel a tightening in your balls as Miyeon stroked your cock for you, jerking you off with both hands now. Your breath hitches for a moment, your orgasm coming harder than you expected. You groan out in overwhelming pleasure as Miyeon rests the tip of your dick on her tongue. White spurts stain her pink tongue, shooting out over the surface and some into her mouth. Your cock fires off more, landing on her cheek and her forehead. Miyeon gasps out in surprise, a stray load splattering on her jaw and up across her left eyelid. She settles for a bit, breathing hard, eyes still looking up at you. 

Then her hand strokes again.

“Give me one more, baby, please…”

She picks up speed this time, jerking your semi-erect cock. You’re spent, but something about this alluring woman seems to stir something deep inside you, something primal that bypasses your refractory period. You feel that same pressure rising from your balls as your thighs clench. Miyeon gives a few enthusiastic licks to your tip, her voice lowering as she works for your building release. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me one more time, baby, hm? Okay, baby? Can you do that for me? You’re gonna cum for me one more time, okay? Fuck, I can feel you pulsing in my hand. Ooh, baby, just one more. Just one more for me, baby, please.”

You let out a deep, guttural moan as the rushing feeling travels out of your wincing cock, one last big load jetting out and painting Miyeon’s cum-coated lips and tongue. Miyeon moans out as you grip her hair to pull her closer to your cock. Your orgasm weakens as you grip your shaft, rubbing the wet tip all over her cheeks and jaw, her eyes closed as she lets you use her to ride out the final throes of your pleasure. Your cock finally rests as Miyeon’s tongue catches its final white drops. She gives a few licks, cleaning your tip as your breathing finally settles down.

She looks up at you, with this oddly-sticky-but-ethereal glow and blush that just seems to pull on your heart strings. Was it weird? A bit, seeing as her cheeks bore all the markings of your love. But it was her— and by God did you love her. So you told her. 

“I love you.”

“Oh, thanks, I bet you do, Mr. Chastity-Cums-Alot.” She rolls her eyes with a dimpled grin and a snort.

“Oookay, man. I was being genuine.”

Miyeon’ shotgun laughs at your dry response. You grab a nearby towel (exactly for moments like this), drying off the excess load she didn’t willingly lick or reach for.

She rubs off her cheek and fixes the locks of her hair, staring back up at you with twinkling eyes, her dimple showing itself alongside her devilish grin.

“I love you too.” Miyeon reciprocates warmly.

I always have, her dimple says. All this time.

Her words pass on through your already-melted resolve and fills this Miyeon-shaped gap in the walls you’ve built. Unbeknownst to you, you’ve already done the same for her.

You guys just fit.

“Your cock is still out.” Miyeon, sensing a lull in the moment, flicks the underside of your meat with a sneaky chuckle.

“Ow! What the hell!”

-

“You sing the chorus with her?” you asked.

“I do,” Miyeon bites a nail, nervous and all quiet. You click your tongue as you lower her finger from her mouth.

“And she’s written all the lyrics to it?” you pressed.

“Well, Soyeon’s helped a bit, but it’s really all her.”

“Is it about…?”

“You haven’t listened to it?”

“No.”

It was Miyeon’s turn to click her tongue. She pulls up her phone and gives you an earbud.

You scroll through their newly-finished “I burn” EP and click play on MOON.

[tregearix]

Infidelity

Twice Sana X i-dle Miyeon X Male Reader

The city didn’t just encroach on the suburbs, it devoured them. You watched from the backseat as the familiar green lawns and quiet cul-de-sacs of your childhood surrendered to a rising tide of concrete and chrome. Your parents, two doctors chasing the prestige of a massive metropolitan hospital, saw a golden horizon. You saw an eviction. It felt less like a relocation and more like a forced exile—a hard reset on a teenage existence you known and enjoyed.

​The first month was a sensory assault. The new school stood like a fortress, its hallways a chaotic river of strangers navigating a current you didn't understand. You wore indifference like armor, drifting through the noise in a protective bubble. But armor is heavy, and eventually, yours cracked. It started small—a sympathetic grimace shared over a bubbling beaker in Chemistry, a mutual groan over a brutal history syllabus—and suddenly, you weren't invisible anymore.

​Hyunsu became your anchor, a boy with an easy grin and a playlist for every specific human emotion. Minjun followed, sharp-tongued and unapologetically sarcastic, completing the trio. The weekends, once dreaded voids of loneliness, transformed into urban expeditions: hunting for vinyl in dusty basements, debating cinema at 2 AM, and scaling fire escapes to watch the city breathe beneath you, a glittering tapestry of electric light. You began to find a rhythm in the chaos, falling in love with the endless possibilities humming beneath the pavement.

​Your actual home, however, was a world away from the grit of the streets. The high-rise apartement complex was a monolith of glass that severed you from the noise below. It was a realm of hushed elevators, cold marble, and silence that cost a premium. Your parents, thriving on the energy of their new status, wasted no time weaving themselves into the building's social fabric. It was a carousel of polite dinner parties and poolside networking. And it was in this strange, manicured ecosystem—somewhere between the canapés and the panoramic views—that you crossed paths with Miyeon and Sana.

Miyeon is the most jarring twist of fate. She was a teacher at your new school—lived just two floors below you. Within the sterile confines of the classroom, she was a study in absolute composure: dark hair scraped back into a severe ponytail, her voice a precise instrument of authority that brooked no interruption. But the complex’s communal lounge served as a strange decompression chamber. In that softer, amber light, the strict educator vanished. Her hair fell in loose, gentle waves around her shoulders, and the sharp scent of dry-erase markers was replaced by a faint, lingering drift of jasmine. Even her eyes, usually narrowed with academic scrutiny, seemed to melt into a disarming, inviting warmth.

Sana, by contrast, was a whirlwind of vibrant energy. She seemed to exist outside the conventional grind, her days devoted entirely to curated elegance and the art of effortless charm. Her laughter—a bright, melodic cascade—often echoed through the complex's courtyard, effortlessly drawing smiles from the neighbors. She moved with a fluid, captivating grace, her attire always impeccable, preceded by the subtle, expensive shimmer of her signature perfume.

You found yourself captivated by their orbit, a witness to the effortless, magnetic gravity that seemed to pull them together. It sparked a sudden, dizzying awareness within you—a realization of just how undeniably beautiful they were. Miyeon was a study in refined elegance and quiet, smoldering intensity, while Sana was all radiant energy, playful curves, and eyes that seemed to hold a permanent spark. It was a dangerous combination. Your teenage hormones, already a volatile current, surged into a flood. Fantasies began to stitch themselves into the seams of your reality, vivid and relentless. A coincidental brush of a hand in the hallway, a gaze that lingered a heartbeat too long—these feverish daydreams became the secret, pounding soundtrack to an otherwise ordinary life.

Full Story : Here

[dazzlingkai]

MINNIE — Mono (260201)