-> synopsis ; daniela had been persistently asking for something, but you wanted to take things slow. finally, dani couldn't hold back anymore and snapped.
-> tags ; anal. penetration. multiple orgasms.
—
For the past two weeks, Daniela had been torturing you.
It started innocently enough—or at least that’s what she claimed. She’d send you a mirror selfie from the dance studio, skirt slightly lifted, showing the curve of her ass in tight leggings. Then the messages got bolder.
A picture of her in tiny shorts, bent over tying her shoes, caption: “Thinking about you behind me.”
Another one in the hotel bathroom during their schedule—black thong disappearing between her cheeks, caption: “Still waiting for you to stop being scared and take it.”
Every time you opened your phone, there she was—her perfect ass on full display, teasing you, daring you.
She had never done anal before, but for some reason she had become obsessed with the idea. Every night on FaceTime she’d bring it up:
“When are you finally gonna fuck my ass, baby? I’ve been waiting so patiently…”
You always told her “soon.” You were nervous—she was tight as fuck already, and you didn’t want to hurt her.
But Daniela wasn’t the patient type.
Tonight, she finally snapped.
She had just gotten back from a late-night photoshoot. The second she walked into your apartment, still wearing her stage practice outfit—that black micro-skirt that barely covered anything and a cropped top—she didn’t even say hello.
She walked straight up to you, turned around, and pressed her ass against your crotch.
She started rubbing.
Slow, rolls of her hips, grinding her soft, warm ass cheeks against the front of your sweatpants. The tiny skirt rode up instantly, fully exposing the lower half of her ass. She wasn’t wearing panties.
“You’ve been saying ‘soon’ for two weeks,” she murmured, looking back at you over her shoulder. Her voice was low, a little annoyed, a little needy. “I’m tired of waiting.”
You groaned, hands automatically gripping her hips as she kept grinding on you. Your cock was already rock hard, throbbing against her through the thin fabric.
“Dani… we said we’d take it slow—”
“I don’t want slow anymore,” she cut you off. She reached back, grabbed your hand, and guided it under the skirt until your fingers brushed her bare pussy. She was soaked. “Feel that? I’ve been wet for days thinking about you fucking my ass.”
She turned around, pushed you down onto the couch, and climbed onto your lap. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist now, ass completely exposed as she straddled you.
“I want it tonight,” she said, eyes locked on yours. “I want you to take my ass. Right now.”
You swallowed hard. Your hands slid up her thighs, squeezing the soft flesh.
“You sure? It’s gonna hurt at first.”
“I know,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss you. “I want it to hurt a little. I want to feel you stretch me open.”
She reached down between you, pulled your sweats down just enough to free your cock. It sprang up—thick, heavy, already leaking. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked you slowly while kissing your neck.
“Get the lube,” she said against your skin.
You didn’t argue.
You grabbed the bottle from the side table. She took it from you, poured a generous amount onto her fingers, and reached back to rub it over her tight hole. She moaned softly as she worked two fingers inside herself, stretching herself open while you watched.
When she was satisfied, she poured more lube directly onto your cock, stroking you until you were glistening and slick.
Then she positioned herself.
She turned around, facing away from you, and slowly lowered herself onto your lap. She reached back, spread one ass cheek with her hand, and guided the thick head of your cock to her tight entrance.
“Go slow,” she breathed.
You held her hips steady as she started sinking down.
The head popped past her tight ring and she gasped sharply — a mix of pain and surprise. Her thighs trembled as she took the first few inches.
“Fuck… it’s so thick…” she whimpered.
She kept going—breathing through the stretch as more and more of your cock disappeared into her ass. You could feel how incredibly tight she was, every inch squeezing you like a vice. Halfway down she had to pause, breathing hard, forehead resting against your shoulder.
“It burns…” she whispered, but she didn’t stop. She kept lowering herself until her ass was flush against your lap, your entire cock buried deep inside her.
She stayed still for a moment, adjusting, soft little whimpers escaping her lips.
Then she started moving.
Slow, experimental rolls of her hips. Testing how it felt. Every movement made her moan—low, shaky sounds that went straight to your cock.
“God… I feel so full,” she gasped. “You’re so deep in my ass… holy—”
You groaned, hands gripping her hips tighter. “You’re so fucking tight, Dani.”
She started riding you properly—slow at first, then gradually faster. Her ass bounced on your cock, the sparkly skirt still bunched around her waist, giving you the perfect view of your thick cock stretching her tight hole.
She reached down and rubbed her clit while she rode you, moaning louder.
“Harder,” she panted after a few minutes. “Fuck my ass harder.”
You thrust up to meet her—deep strokes that made her cry out. The sound of her ass slapping against your lap filled the room. She was getting louder, wetter, her pussy dripping down onto your balls as you fucked her ass.
“Fuck yes! just like that—don’t stop—”
You could feel her getting close. Her moans turned into desperate little cries. You reached around and rubbed her clit fast and rough.
She came hard—body shaking violently, ass clenching around your cock like a vice as she screamed your name. Her pussy gushed, soaking your thighs.
You didn’t stop.
You kept fucking her ass through her orgasm—until she was sobbing from overstimulation.
Only then did you let go.
You thrust deep one final time and came inside her ass with a loud groan, pumping thick, hot ropes deep into her. She moaned long and low as she felt you filling her up.
You stayed buried inside her for a long time, both of you breathing hard, sweaty and spent.
Daniela leaned back against your chest, still impaled on your cock, and let out a shaky laugh.
“…Holy shit,” she whispered. “That was way better than I imagined.”
You kissed the back of her neck, arms wrapping around her waist.
“Told you we should’ve waited until you were ready.”
She clenched around you once more, making you groan.
“Shut up,” she said, smiling. “We’re doing that again tomorrow.”
Ever since that first night, Daniela had become completely addicted to anal.
She wanted it all the time. In the car after long rehearsals. In the dorm when her members were asleep. Even once in the practice room after everyone else had left.
She started texting you during the day with nothing but a mirror selfie—skirt lifted just enough to show her ass—followed by a simple message: “I need it again tonight.”
Tonight she dragged you to a random library.
It was past 10 p.m. and the building was almost empty. Daniela had told her manager she needed to study lyrics in one of the quiet corners on the third floor.
The second you two slipped into the single-stall bathroom at the very back, she locked the door and turned to you with that familiar hungry look.
She was still wearing her practice outfit—the small sparkly blue colored-skirt that barely covered anything. No panties underneath. She never wore them anymore when she knew she was going to see you.
Without saying a word, she turned around, bent over the sink, and pulled the skirt all the way up to her waist. Her ass was fully exposed—smooth, round, and already slightly flushed.
“I’ve been wet since rehearsal,” she whispered, looking at you through the mirror. “I kept thinking about you fucking my ass while I was dancing.”
She reached back and spread one cheek with her hand, showing you her tight little hole.
“Fuck me,” she said. “Right here. I don’t care if someone hears.”
You stepped behind her, pulled your cock out, and rubbed the thick head against her entrance. She was already slick from earlier teasing, but you still spat on your hand and coated yourself generously.
You pushed in slowly.
Daniela gasped sharply as the head stretched her open. Even after all the times you’d fucked her ass in the past few weeks, she was still so incredibly tight.
“Fuck… it’s still so thick,” she moaned, gripping the edge of the sink. “Go deeper.”
You kept pushing until you were buried all the way inside her ass. She let out a long, shaky breath, pushing back against you until her ass was pressed flush against your hips.
“God, I love how full you make me,” she whispered.
You started thrusting—slow and deep at first, letting her feel every inch sliding in and out. The bathroom was quiet except for the wet, filthy sounds of you fucking her ass and her soft, breathy moans.
She looked at you in the mirror, eyes half-lidded.
“Harder,” she begged. “I want to feel it tomorrow when I’m on stage.”
You gripped her hips tighter and gave her what she wanted. Your thrusts became faster and deeper, the sound of your hips slapping against her ass growing louder. Daniela moaned louder too, no longer trying to stay quiet.
“Fuck yes—baby—shit! keep going—”
You reached around and rubbed her clit while you fucked her ass. She came hard within minutes, her whole body shaking as her ass clenched rhythmically around your cock. Fresh wetness dripped from her pussy onto the floor.
You kept pounding into her ass, deep and relentless, until she came again—louder this time, her voice cracking as she tried to hold back her moans.
Only then did you let yourself go.
You thrust deep one final time and came inside her ass, groaning as you pumped thick, hot spurts deep into her. Daniela moaned long and low, feeling you fill her up again.
You stayed buried inside her for a while, both of you breathing hard, her body still trembling with aftershocks.
She finally looked back at you in the mirror, a tired but satisfied smile on her face.
“My ass is gonna be so sore during tomorrow’s schedule,” she whispered.
You kissed the back of her neck gently.
“I bet it’s still worth it.”
She clenched around your cock one last time and laughed softly.
“Every single time.”
She stayed bent over the sink for a moment longer, your cock still inside her, cum slowly leaking out around you.
Then she straightened up, turned around, and kissed you deep and slow.
“But next time,” she murmured against your lips, “I want you to fuck my ass while I’m wearing this skirt on stage… immediately after the show.”
You groaned, already getting hard again inside her.
the hotel room was dimly lit, the warm glow of the bedside lamp reflecting off the laptop screen resting on the wooden bed tray that sat in front of the two of you. the chat was scrolling at a lightning-fast speed, thousands of comments flying by every second while you sat side-by-side on the large bed, buried under the heavy hotel duvet.
to the thousands of fans watching, it was just a casual, late-night stream between members after a massive stadium show. you were sitting right next to karina, laughing, reading comments, and unwinding together after hours of intense choreography.
what the fans didn’t know and what the camera couldn’t see was what karina was doing beneath the thick layers of the heavy blanket.
her hand had slipped under the covers twenty minutes ago. at first, it was just her fingers lightly trailing over your knee while she answered a fan’s question about the setlist. but as the live stream went on, her touch became bolder, heavier, and completely shameless.
now, her warm hand slid high between your thighs. you could feel the heat of her palm through your loose shorts, but that wasn’t enough for her anymore. with a slow, deliberate movement under the fold of the duvet, karina hooked her fingers into the waistband of your shorts and slid her bare hand straight inside, pushing your silk underwear aside.
the moment her bare, warm fingers brushed directly against your dripping pussy, an electric jolt ran straight up your spine.
you kept your face perfectly still, maintaining your polished idol smile for the camera, but under the blanket, you parted your knees just a fraction of an inch, pressing yourself harder into her touch. you loved every second of it—the sheer danger, the thrill of having your member slide her bare hand deep into your wet pussy while millions of your shared fans watched her glowing face, completely oblivious.
karina felt how drenched you were for her, and a soft breath hitched in her throat. her eyes darkened, her fingers sliding slick and deep into your heat right under the covers, her thumb pressing firm, rhythmic circles against your swollen clit.
“yeah, the encore was really special tonight,” karina said to the camera, her voice smooth on the surface, but her tone was dropping, becoming thick and raspy at the edges. “we worked really hard on the new arrangement...”
she was struggling. her chest was rising and falling a little too fast, her dark eyes staring at the scrolling chat, but her entire focus was locked onto the slick friction under her hand. every time your pulse fluttered against her fingertips, her own hips twitched under the covers, her core throbbing at how utterly turned on she was making herself.
she worked her fingers deeper, slicking herself with your wetness, her thumb relentless until your toes curled under the sheets.
a quiet, sharp intake of air caught in your throat. you quickly covered it with a light chuckle, leaning forward slightly to adjust your hair to hide the flush creeping up your neck.
karina looked sideways at you for a split second. her eyes were glassy, dark, and heavy with pure need. her mouth parted, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip as her fingers stroked you faster, slick and deep, right there on camera.
she tried to read another comment out loud. “someone asked if... if we’re going to go live again tomorrow…”
she stopped mid-sentence. her breath hitched hard, a low, needy hum threatening to escape her throat as her fingers sank all the way into your dripping warmth. her mind went completely blank. she couldn’t play the composed leader anymore. she couldn’t read the chat. she was completely overwhelmed by how bad she wanted you, her own body practically vibrating with heat.
without another word, karina reached out, her hand slamming the laptop lid down, pushing the bed tray unceremoniously to the foot of the bed.
before you could even draw a full breath, she whipped the duvet back and threw herself over you, pinning you down into the plush hotel mattress. her face was flushed dark red, her eyes glassy and wild as she grabbed your jaw, pulling you up into a deep, desperate kiss.
it was messy. she tasted like the sweet lip gloss she wore on camera and the pure, frantic heat that had been consuming her for the last half hour. her tongue tangled with yours in a dark, demanding rhythm, her hips grinding hard down against yours through her clothes, a low, needy moan escaping straight into your mouth.
“i couldn’t wait anymore,” she rasped, breaking the kiss just an inch to press her forehead against yours, her breath hot against your swollen lips.
without giving you a second to reply, her hands moved fast, gripping the elastic of your shorts and silk underwear together. she tugged them down your thighs in one swift, impatient motion, throwing them off the edge of the bed. then she yanked your oversized shirt up over your head, leaving you completely exposed under the dim, warm light of the hotel room.
she slid down between your parted legs, her dark hair spilling over your bare thighs. the moment her face hovered over your exposed center, the rich, slick scent of your arousal hit her, and karina let out a small, helpless whimpering sound.
“look at what you did to me,” she whispered darkly, looking up at you from between your knees, her fingers sliding two slick digits straight back inside your tight, dripping heat.
“oohh, jimin—” you gasped out loud, your fingers clutching violently at the bedsheets as she began thrusting her fingers deep and fast, using your own wetness to slick you up.
she didn’t stop there. karina buried her face directly into your core, her warm tongue making broad, wet laps right over your hyper-sensitive clit. at the same time, her free hand reached all the way up your body, her warm palm cupping your soft, bare breast. she squeezed it firmly, her thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling your sensitive nipple in time with her rapid, rhythmic licking.
the double sensation hit you like a wave of pure electricity. you arched your back high off the mattress, a loud, breathless moan tearing from your throat. karina ate you beautifully, her tongue working in fast, sensual circles while her hand kneaded your breast, worshiping your body with a desperate kind of reverence.
“fuck, feels so good, jimin!” you cried out, completely unable to keep quiet as she devoured you, the wet sounds of her mouth filling the quiet hotel room.
she pulled back just slightly, panting, her lips glistening with your wetness. her eyes were dark, burning with a heavy, unspoken demand. her own clothes were soaked through from how hard she had been grinding her hips against the mattress earlier.
“my turn,” you rasped, your hands reaching out to grab her waist.
you pulled her up, maneuvering her body until she turned around. you reached up and slid her tight shorts and damp panties down her long legs, tossing them aside. she straddled over you, perfectly aligning her dripping pussy right above your mouth, while your own slick heat hovered just above her lips.
the 69 position left both of you completely bare and exposed to each other. karina’s golden thighs framed your face, trembling slightly with anticipation, while you parted your own legs wide above her.
without a word, karina leaned down and buried her face back into your wetness, her tongue immediately finding your clit again, while you reached up to hold her heavy, swaying hips.
you arched your neck up and drove your tongue deep into her drenched, throbbing folds. the taste of her was intoxicating. you lapped at her clit, sucking the swollen nub into your mouth, making her hips jerk violently above you. her moans were muffled directly against your thighs, her breath hot and frantic against your skin.
the sensuality of it was overwhelming. you didn’t just stay on her clit. you traced your tongue lower, dragging the wetness down along her perineum until you found her tight, sensitive hole. you pressed your wet tongue directly against it, swirling the tip over the sensitive skin before pressing deeper, tonguing the tight ring in a slow, agonizingly filthy rhythm.
“oh, fuck, baby!” karina completely lost her mind. her body arched like a bowstring above you, her fingers gripping your thighs tight enough to leave bruises as she felt your tongue sliding slick and deep against her hole. the sensation was completely destroying her.
in retaliation, her hands reached up again, blindly finding your tits, squeezing and teasing your nipples while her own tongue mimicked your filthy rhythm, sliding down to rim your sensitive hole with wet, broad strokes, tasting every inch of you.
the room was filled with the heavy, wet sounds of both of you consuming each other, lost in a shameless, chaotic haze of pure pleasure. you were tonguing her deep, drinking her in while she worked her mouth desperately over your most sensitive spots.
“i’m gonna, oh, god!—i’m coming—" she choked out against your wet skin, her entire body shuddering uncontrollably as a massive, violent orgasm tore through her.
you didn’t stop. you kept rimming her, licking her straight through her peak, swallowing her sweet, hot fluids as her core spasmed beautifully against your mouth. the intensity of her climax pushed you right over the edge. you exploded into a second, wracking orgasm right against her face, your own body convulsing wildly as she drank you down.
both of your bodies trembled together in a tangled mess of slick skin, breathless whimpers, and heavy, shallow gasps.
finally, karina collapsed sideways onto the mattress beside you, completely spent, her chest heaving wildly as she pulled you into her arms. she panted into the dark room, tangling her sticky fingers with yours, her lips wet and swollen from kissing you.
then, a faint buzzing sound cut through the heavy silence of the room.
you both froze.
karina slowly turned her head toward the foot of the bed. the bed tray was sitting tilted against the wooden tray, the sudden push from her hand earlier hadn’t closed the laptop lid all the way. the screen was still glowing faintly in the dark room.
the stream had never disconnected.
the chat wasn't just scrolling; it was exploding at an impossible, lagging speed, tens of thousands of comments flying past in a blurred frenzy.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING”
“THIS IS SO HOT OMG”
“CAN I JOIN PLEASE”
“THEY FORGOT TO TURN OFF THE MIC”
“THEY ARE LITERALLY IN 69 ON LIVE STREAM I AM SCREAMING”
“I CAN HEAR EVERYTHING THIS IS CRAZY”
the microphone on the side of the laptop was still lit up green, picking up every ragged breath, every wet lick, every soft slap of skin, and every loud, shattered moan you both had just let out into the room.
then, karina turned her head back to look at you.
the sheer panic in her eyes slowly dissolved, replaced by something far darker, heavy with a thrilling, completely unhinged heat. a quiet, breathless chuckle escaped her lips.
she didn’t reach for the bed tray. she didn’t try to shut the laptop.
instead, karina shifted her weight, sliding back down over your lap until her drenched pussy pressed flush against yours. she grabbed your jaw with her wet, sticky fingers, tilting your head up until your swollen lips were just a breath apart.
“too late now,” she whispered into your mouth.
she rolled her hips down hard against yours, using your shared wetness to grind her swollen clit straight into yours. a loud, shattered moan broke from your throat, echoing loud and clear through the quiet room and directly into the live microphone.
karina smiled against your lips, her dark eyes flashing with absolute ruin as she captured your mouth in a deep, filthy kiss, completely past the point of caring.
“WAIT THEY’RE NOT STOPPING???!”
“SHE JUST SAID TOO LATE NOW I’M LOSING MY MIND”
“THE SLAPPING SOUNDS ARE GETTING LOUDER”
“SOMEONE RECORD THIS BEFORE SM TAKES IT DOWN”
“I CAN’T BREATHE ARE THEY SERIOUSLY CONTINUING????”
“THIS IS HISTORIC I AM SCREAMINGGGGG”
ignoring the chaos unfolding on screen, karina buried her face in the crook of your neck, licking and biting the sensitive skin right over your pulse point while rolling her hips in relentless, heavy circles against your core.
you arched your back high off the sheets, throwing your head back and letting out a loud moan that tore right through the microphone—broadcast live to every single fan still watching.
──── ( 🪩 ) a glamorous party was supposed to be the easy part of the night—but between your impossibly sassy, sharp–tongued girlfriend chaewon stealing every conversation and constantly teasing you with hints about the surprise she has planned afterward, surviving the event without losing your composure becomes its own challenge.
𝓟aring. sub!bratty!kim chaewon x dom!girlfriend!fem reader.
the party was in full swing, the bass from the speakers thumping through the floorboards and vibrating in your chest. the air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and expensive perfume. red solo cups were everywhere, and bodies were pressed close together on the makeshift dance floor.
chaewon had been impossible to find for the last twenty minutes, but then you spotted her across the room. she was leaning against a wall in a dimly lit corner, sipping from a drink, looking effortlessly devastating in tight denim shorts and a cropped tank top. every time she moved, you couldn't help but wonder about what she had promised you the secret weight she was carrying beneath those shorts.
suddenly, you felt a warm presence behind you. before you could turn, chaewon’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling your back flush against her body. she leaned down, pressing her lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, her breath hot and smelling faintly of vodka.
“found you, (y/n)–ah.” she murmured, her voice dripping with mischief. as she pressed closer, you felt her hips grind deliberately against yours. you caught the slight smirk on her face as she whispered low enough that only you could hear.
“are you enjoying the view? because i’m having a very hard time keeping my composure with this thing inside me while i watch you dance.” she punctuated her words with another deliberate grind of her hips against yours, letting you feel the firm pressure of the toy through her denim shorts. chaewon pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, her expression predatory and full of promise. she reached down, grabbing your hand and guiding it to rest on her thigh, right where the fabric stretched tightest over her curves.
“tell me, (y/n).” she breathed, her thumb tracing circles on your palm as she pulled you closer into her heat, ignoring the crowd swirling around you both. “do you want to stay here and watch me suffer through this party, or should we find somewhere quiet where i can show you exactly how much i’ve been thinking about you tonight?”
chaewon didn’t give you a chance to speak. before you could even part your lips to answer, she cut you off with action. she tightened her grip on your waist, pulling your hips flush against hers with zero hesitation.
with a hungry growl low in her throat, she began to grind her ass against you in slow, deliberate circles. each movement was calculated to make you feel every inch of the toy she was wearing, the pressure shifting against your thigh as she moved. her hips rolled with a sinful rhythm, the denim of her shorts rubbing against you as she sought friction.
she buried her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply while continuing the relentless motion. “shhh,” she hissed against your skin, her voice vibrating through your entire body. “don’t answer with words. answer me with this.”
she increased the pace slightly, her movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. the throbbing bass of the party music seemed to sync up with the rhythm of her hips, creating a dizzying sensation that made your head spin. chaewon was completely shameless, grinding against you in the middle of the party as if she owned the space and as if she owned you.
the friction was maddening. chaewon’s hips rolled with increasing intensity, each thrust of her ass against yours sending sparks through your nerves. she seemed to thrive on the risk, her breath coming faster as she pressed herself tighter against you, making sure you felt every deliberate shift of her body.
“fuck, baby.” she gasped against your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. her grinding became more erratic, more desperate, as if she couldn’t hold back the need to feel you completely. she pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, her gaze blown wide with lust and challenge. “we’re leaving. now.”
chaewon let out a surprised gasp when you grabbed her wrist, but the surprise quickly melted into a wicked, challenging grin. she loved the sudden shift in power, the way your hazy eyes flashed with something far more dominant than her own playful teasing. instead of resisting, she let herself be dragged through the crowd, her hips swaying provocatively as she followed your lead, clearly enjoying every second of being pulled away.
you kicked open the door to the single occupancy bathroom and shoved her inside, slamming the door shut behind you. the click of the lock echoing in the small space felt like the starting gun for a race.
chaewon stumbled back against the sink, but she didn’t look intimidated at all. she leaned back against the porcelain, spreading her legs slightly as she watched you approach. a cocky, bratty smirk played on her lips as she ran a hand through her messy hair.
“oh? so we’re skipping the party for some private time?” she teased, her voice dripping with defiance despite the way her breathing was already becoming labored. she arched her back deliberately, pushing her ass forward. the movement made the plug shift noticeably under her shorts. “what are you gonna do about it, princess? you gonna punish me for being such a bad girl tonight?”
she licked her lips, her dark eyes challenging you to make good on your threat. she was testing you, pushing your buttons to see exactly how far you'd go to tame her. the small room felt suddenly suffocatingly hot, filled with the tension between your desire to discipline her and her desperate need to be overpowered.
she bit her lip, her challenging smirk wavering just a fraction as she saw the look in your eyes. the bravado was still there, but underneath the cocky exterior, you could see the pupils of her eyes dilate and her chest heave as she waited for your next move. she was playing with fire, and she knew it, but she wanted to see if you were brave enough to burn her.
without warning, you closed the distance between you, eliminating every inch of space. your fingers tangled roughly into chaewon’s short black hair, fist tightening at the nape of her neck. you yanked her head back forcefully, exposing the pale column of her throat and forcing her to meet your gaze. a small, surprised gasp escaped her lips not of fear, but of pure, unfiltered arousal at your sudden aggression.
before she could utter another taunt, you crashed your lips against hers. this wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was a claim. it was messy, desperate, and hungry. your mouth moved over hers with bruising pressure, your tongue seeking entrance as you tasted the faint sweetness of her vodka laced breath.
chaewon let out a muffled moan against your mouth, her body going rigid before melting into you. her hands flew to your waist, claws digging into your skin through your clothes as she tried to pull you even closer, if that were even possible. the kiss deepened into something feral: teeth grazed lips, tongues tangled in a heated battle for dominance, and the sound of wet friction filled the small, cramped bathroom.
you didn’t let up, your grip on her hair tightening to keep her head angled exactly where you wanted it. you kissed her like you wanted to devour her, your lips sliding from her mouth to her jawline, then down to the sensitive skin below her ear where you bit down hard enough to leave a mark. chaewon’s head thunked back against the bathroom mirror with a soft clatter, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy.
“mmmh... fuck, (y/n)...” she whimpered into the kiss, her cockiness completely shattered. her hips bucked involuntarily against yours, the plug shifting inside her as she arched her back, seeking more friction, more pressure, more of your overwhelming attention. the bratty defiance was gone, replaced by a raw, needy desperation as she surrendered to the intensity of your assault.
her breathing became ragged as you pulled away from her lips just enough to trail kisses down her neck, leaving damp streaks across her collarbone. chaewon’s legs felt weak, and she would have collapsed onto the tile floor if you hadn’t kept your other hand planted firmly against her hip, holding her upright. the bravado she had worn like armor all night had completely disintegrated, leaving behind only a girl who was shaking from the sheer force of your touch.
“you’re... you’re actually gonna do it, huh?” she managed to pant out, her voice cracking. the challenge was still there in her eyes, but it was drowning in a sea of need. “tame me?”
she reached down shakily, her fingers fumbling with the button of her denim shorts, her eyes never leaving yours. the plug inside her was clearly driving her mad, and the way she squirmed against you showed she couldn’t take another second of the anticipation. “don’t stop,” she whispered, her hips rolling against yours in a silent plea. “please, (y/n)... don’t stop.”
the moment the words left your lips, your actions became even more commanding. you didn’t wait for permission; you grabbed chaewon by her hips with bruising force and spun her around. with one swift motion, you forced her down, bending her over the cold marble countertop of the bathroom sink.
chaewon let out a sharp cry that was half gasp, half moan as her palms slammed against the surface to steady herself. her face was pressed close to the mirror, her breath fogging up the glass. her ass was thrust high into the air, the denim of her tight shorts stretched to their absolute limit across her curves. the position was vulnerable, humiliating, and utterly exposing exactly what a brat like her needed.
“fuck…” she whined into the sink, her voice muffled and strained. “(y/n), fuck, you’re killing me here.”
she couldn’t finish her sentence because you pressed your body flush against her back, trapping her against the sink. the heat between you was overwhelming. from this angle, you had perfect access to her, and you could see the way her thighs trembled from the effort of holding herself up. the plug she had been bragging about earlier was now visible as a small bulge beneath the fabric, shifting with every desperate tremor of her body.
you leaned down, your lips grazing the sensitive shell of her ear while your hands slid down from her hips to grip the backs of her thighs, spreading them wider to give yourself better access. chaewon’s hips bucked involuntarily, her spine arching like a cat’s as she felt your dominance physically pinning her down.
“still feeling like a brat, chaewonie?” you whispered darkly against her ear, your breath hot against her flushed skin. “still think you can play games with me?”
chaewon couldn’t answer. all she could do was whimper, her fingers clawing at the edge of the sink as she shook. the cocky, untouchable girl from the hallway was gone. in her place was someone completely undone by your control, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as she waited for whatever punishment or reward you decided to give her next.
her hips gave another desperate, involuntary twitch, pressing the toy against her walls with painful intensity. “please,” she sobbed out, the word breaking as her forehead pressed against the cool mirror. “please, (y/n)… make me behave. just... fuck, please.”
without saying a word, you acted on the raw hunger pulsing between you. you reached for the button of her denim shorts, your movements precise and commanding. chaewon let out a whimper as she felt the cool air hit her skin when you slid the fabric down past her hips, exposing her pale skin and the toy she had been so proudly flaunting earlier.
you didn’t waste any time. your hands moved to her hips again, gripping them hard enough to leave faint fingerprints as you prepared to take what she had been teasing all night. the silence in the bathroom was deafening, broken only by the distant thump of the party music outside and chaewon’s increasingly frantic, shallow breathing.
you leaned down, pressing your chest against her arched back, feeling every tremor running through her body. one hand moved to her hair again, tugging her head back so she had to arch her neck even further, exposing her throat to you. the other hand moved between her thighs, your fingers finding the slick heat already waiting for you.
“mmmph!” chaewon’s cry was cut off as she pressed her face harder against the mirror, her fingers leaving smeared streaks on the glass. the sudden contact made her hips buck violently. she was completely at your mercy now, her body responding to your touch with desperate, involuntary spasms.
the power dynamic had shifted completely. the ‘bratty girl’ who thought she could control the room was now nothing more than a shaking mess beneath your hands, begging for the very thing she had provoked. you could feel her heat radiating off her, her muscles tensing with every second of anticipation. she was wound tight as a spring, her entire being focused on what you were going to do to her next.
you lowered your head to her shoulder, biting down gently on the tendon there, marking her as yours even as you prepared to escalate. “you wanted this, didn’t you?” you murmured against her skin, your voice a low threat. “you wanted me to teach you how to behave.”
you didn’t give her another moment to plead or protest. the time for teasing was over; it was time for discipline. you pulled your hand back for a split second to build momentum before bringing it down hard against the pale flesh of her ass. the sound of the slap a sharp, echoing ‘crack’ cut through the muffled party noise like a gunshot.
chaewon let out a strangled scream, her body jerking forward as her palms slipped against the marble sink. “ah! fuck (y/n)!” she shrieked, her voice cracking with genuine shock. the sting was immediate, spreading across her skin in waves of heat. but you weren’t done. you didn’t give her time to recover before the next blow landed, even harder than the first.
crack. crack. crack.
each strike was deliberate, precise, and brutal. you targeted the soft flesh of her ass cheeks with punishing force, each blow leaving behind a spreading bloom of angry red. chaewon’s hips bucked wildly, her legs shaking so violently she could barely support herself. she was sobbing now, not just from the pain, but from the overwhelming sensory overload of being completely overpowered. her fingers clawed at the sink, leaving white marks where her nails dug into the stone.
“please— ah—! don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck!” her words were a chaotic mess of contradictions. she was crying out in pain, but her hips were still grinding back against you instinctively, seeking the contact even as you punished her. the bratty persona was utterly incinerated; she was reduced to raw nerve endings and desperate need.
you increased the tempo, your palm stinging as you rained down a rapid succession of stinging slaps. the skin of her ass was now a deep, flushed crimson, throbbing in time with her heartbeat. every time your hand connected, a fresh wave of whimpers and broken pleas escaped her swollen lips. you could feel the heat rising from her body, the friction of your own body against her heated skin making the air between you feel electric.
chewon’s head thrashed against the mirror, her breath coming in ragged, wet gasps. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i’ll behave! please, (y/n), i’ll be good!” she wailed, her voice breaking into a sob. she was completely broken, her defiance shattered by the relentless sting of your hand. she was no longer the hunter; she was prey, trembling and marked beneath you, waiting for whatever mercy or further punishment you chose to grant.
you didn’t stop until her skin was a fiery, uniform scarlet, each slap leaving her gasping for air she couldn't seem to catch. the bathroom was filled with the sound of her broken cries and the rhythmic sting of your palm. finally, you delivered one last, thunderous crack that made her entire body convulse before you stopped abruptly.
the sudden absence of pain left her suspended in a state of raw vulnerability. chaewon hung limp over the sink, her forehead pressed against the cool glass, tears streaming down her face and dripping onto the marble. her breath came in shuddering sobs as her hips continued to twitch involuntarily, the plug inside her still working against her sensitized walls. she was utterly spent, her body trembling uncontrollably from the adrenaline and the punishment.
the ‘bratty girl’ persona was dead and buried. In its place was someone who had been thoroughly, completely broken down. she didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak; she simply existed in the space you had carved out for her, waiting to see if your next touch would be a reward for her surrender or another round of discipline.
after the storm of punishment had passed, you didn’t immediately pull away. instead, you let your body remain pressed against her back, letting her feel the heat of your skin against her flushed, throbbing flesh. the only sound in the cramped bathroom was chaewon’s broken, shuddering breathing and the distant, muffled heartbeat of the party outside.
she was completely undone. her forehead remained pressed against the cool mirror, her hair matted with sweat and tears. her ass was a fiery crimson from your palm, each heartbeat sending fresh waves of stinging pleasure pain through her system. she was trembling so violently that you could feel it through your own bones.
slowly, almost tenderly, you shifted your grip. you slid one hand from her hair down to her cheek, turning her face toward yours. chaewon resisted at first, her body still braced for another blow, but when she saw the expression in your hungry eyes, she collapsed into your touch. her face was blotchy from crying, her lips swollen from your earlier kisses, and her dark eyes were glassy with tears and raw adoration.
“there we go,” you whispered, your voice dropping to a velvet purr, the gentleness of your tone contrasting sharply with the violence of moments before. “much better. see how good you can be when you’re not being a brat?”
chaewon couldn’t even form words. she simply let out a weak, broken whimper, leaning her face into your palm like a starved animal seeking comfort. the power dynamic had solidified; she wasn’t just tamed, she was claimed. the defiance that had defined her at school was gone, replaced by a desperate, needy submission.
your other hand moved to the waistband of her panties, your fingers brushing against the slick heat between her thighs. even now, after the spanking, her body was betraying her, pulsing and wet. you felt the toy shift as she gave an involuntary shiver.
“you’ve been punished enough for now,” you murmured against her temple, your breath warm against her tear stained skin. “but i think you still have something left to prove to me.”
chaewon let out a sound that was half sob, half moan, her hips giving one last, pathetic little buck against your hand. she looked up at you through her lashes, her gaze pleading, unguarded, and utterly consumed by you. she didn’t want to leave this bathroom; she wanted to stay right here, under your control, forever.
seeing her broken, trembling, and utterly surrendered beneath you ignited a different kind of hunger, one that wasn’t about punishment, but about complete, intimate consumption. you wanted to taste every inch of her gratitude, to claim the very center of her surrender.
with a low growl, you guided her further down. you didn’t let her stand; instead, you pressed her chest flat against the marble countertop, forcing her to bend deeper until her hips were elevated to their absolute peak. her ass was spread wide, the skin still flushed a deep, angry scarlet from your spanking, throbbing visibly with every heartbeat. the sight of her vulnerability, the contrast between her pale skin and the fiery red marks was intoxicating.
you dropped to your knees on the bathroom tile, the cool floor biting at your skin, but you didn’t care. your focus was entirely on the view between her thighs. the scent of her arousal, mixed with the faint tang of sweat and the musk of her fear and pleasure, filled your nostrils, driving you wild.
slowly, deliberately, you leaned forward. you started with soft, reverent kisses along the sensitive inner skin of her thighs, working your way upward. chaewon let out a broken keen, her fingers scrabbling against the sink as she felt your warm breath against her most private places. then your tongue finally made contact, tasting the salt of her sweat and the slickness of her arousal, she bucked so hard her forehead cracked against the mirror again.
you began to eat her with a feral intensity. your tongue was relentless, swirling around her clit before diving lower, tasting her deeply. you moved to her ass, your tongue tracing the edges of the crimson marks you had left, soothing the sting with wet heat before deliberately teasing the sensitive skin with flicks that made her scream into the sink. you worked your way around the base of the plug she was still wearing, tasting the friction and the evidence of her arousal.
“oh fuck... (y/n)... oh god, please.” chaewon’s voice was a wrecked whisper, her entire body convulsing as you lapped at her. she was caught between the lingering sting of the spanking and the overwhelming pleasure of your tongue. every stroke of your mouth felt like electricity shooting straight to her core. she was shaking so badly now that the sink rattled beneath her palms.
you didn’t hold back. you used your fingers to spread her wider, exposing everything to your mouth, tasting her as if you wanted to drink her dry. you buried your face between her cheeks, your tongue working with a maddening rhythm that pushed her closer and closer to the edge. the sound of your wet, sloppy kisses filled the small room, mixing with her desperate, high pitched whimpers.
chaewon was completely lost. her hips moved in unconscious, desperate circles, trying to force herself further onto your tongue. “i’m good... i’m good, i promise... fuck, (y/n), i’m gonna—” she couldn’t even finish. her climax hit her like a freight train, her muscles clamping down around the plug as she shrieked, her body arching in a violent spasm that left her sobbing and panting against the cool marble. she was utterly spent, claimed, and thoroughly devoured.
when her climax finally ebbed, leaving her limbs heavy and her breathing shallow, you didn’t immediately pull away. you lingered there for a moment, your tongue giving one last, slow drag across her sensitive flesh, tasting the salt and the evidence of her surrender. the bathroom was silent except for the sound of her ragged gasps as she slowly lowered her forehead from the mirror, her body still quivering from the aftershocks.
you rose to your feet, your knees aching from the tile, but your gaze remained predatory as you looked down at her wrecked form. chaewon lay draped over the sink like a broken doll, her hair tangled, her face tear stained, and her skin marked by both your hand and your mouth. she looked completely undone, the untouchable bad girl reduced to something soft, needy, and entirely yours.
reaching down, you hooked your fingers under her chin, forcing her to roll onto her back so she had to meet your eyes. her pupils were still blown wide with lust, her lips swollen and glistening. “see?” you murmured, your thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “that’s much better than being a brat.”
chaewon couldn’t even muster a retort. she simply reached up with unsteady hands, clinging to your wrists as if you were the only thing keeping her grounded. “fuck me,” she whispered, her voice raw and stripped of all pretense. “please, (y/n)... just fuck me properly now.”
you didn’t give her what she asked for immediately. Instead, you wanted to make her wait, to let the anticipation build until she was practically begging on her knees. you kept her pinned against the marble, your fingers hovering just millimeters away from her swollen, dripping entrance, letting her feel nothing but the promise of what was coming.
chaewon let out a whimper that sounded almost like a sob. “(y/n)... please... don’t make me wait,” she pleaded, her hips bucking uselessly against the empty air. her cunt was already slick with arousal, the evidence of your earlier attention glistening between her thighs, but she needed more. she needed to be filled.
then, without warning, you drove two fingers deep inside her. the intrusion was sudden and massive, stretching her tight, sensitive walls with unapologetic force. chaewon’s eyes flew open, her back arching so violently that her spine creaked. a strangled, high pitched cry tore from her throat as her body reacted to the overwhelming fullness.
“oh god! fuck (y/n)!” she screamed, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on the sink’s edge. the sensation was staggering; your fingers felt impossibly large inside her, claiming every inch of her internal space. you didn’t stop at two; you pushed a third finger in, stretching her further, forcing her to accommodate your dominance.
you began to work them with a brutal, rhythmic intensity. you weren’t being gentle; you were fucking her with your fingers, driving them in and out with deep, punishing thrusts that made her entire body shudder. each time you withdrew nearly all the way before plunging back in, you felt her internal muscles clamp down around you in desperate, involuntary spasms. the wet, squelching sound of your fingers sliding through her cream filled the small bathroom, a raw and carnal soundtrack to her undoing.
your thumb found her clit, pressing down hard as you continued the relentless internal assault. the dual stimulation was too much for her. chaewon’s head thrashed side to side, her hair whipping across her flushed face. “i can’t fuck, i can’t take it— ah!” her voice broke into incoherent moans as you increased the pace, your knuckles bumping against her entrance with every thrust.
you could feel how hot she was inside, her walls pulsing around your fingers like they were trying to swallow them whole. she was slicker than you had ever imagined, a torrent of arousal making every movement slide with terrifying ease. you focused on a specific spot deep inside her, hooking your fingers upward in a sharp, demanding motion. chaewon’s entire body went rigid. her toes curled, her hips locked mid thrust, and her eyes rolled back until only the whites showed.
“(y/n)! (y/n), fuck. i’m—, i’m—” her scream was cut off by a violent convulsion. a massive, earth shattering climax ripped through her, her cunt clamping down on your fingers with such force it felt like she might crush them. she shrieked into the mirror, her body convulsing in waves of pleasure that seemed to last forever, her breath coming in ragged, hysterical gasps.
as the aftershocks slowly ebbed, leaving her limp and boneless against the sink, you slowly withdrew your fingers. the sound of them sliding out of her slickness was loud in the sudden silence. chaewon collapsed forward, her forehead thunking against the marble as she wept softly from pure sensory overload. she was completely hollowed out, her body wrecked and her mind completely surrendered to you.
after the intensity of the climax, the bathroom was silent except for chaewon’s wet, shaky breaths. whe lay draped across the marble, looking absolutely wrecked hair plastered to her forehead, lips swollen, and skin flushed pink from both the spanking and the pleasure. but as she slowly began to come back to herself, a new kind of expression began to form on her face.
she rolled over onto her back with agonizing slowness, her limbs heavy and uncoordinated. when she finally managed to prop herself up on her elbows to look at you, she didn’t look like the confident, dangerous girl who had been teasing you in the hallway all night. instead, her pupils were still blown wide, her mouth hung slightly open, and there was a dazed, almost vacant quality to her gaze. she looked completely short circuited.
she blinked at you slowly, her eyelashes still clumped together with tears. “(y/n)...?” she murmured, her voice small and breathy. “my brain feels... fuzzy. like it’s made of cotton candy.”
she let out a weak, hiccuping little giggle that sounded utterly ridiculous given the circumstances. “i feel weird. like... i’m empty? but also not empty?” she tilted her head to the side, looking up at you with the expression of someone who had forgotten how to form coherent thoughts. “i think... i think i need more.”
she paused, frowning as she tried to process what she wanted, her brow furrowing in adorable confusion. “what was it called? that thing you did before?” she squirmed slightly on the counter, her ass tilting up instinctively. “the... the tongue thing. on my... my back part? my butt butt?”
she bit her lip, looking genuinely embarrassed but too dazed to care about her dignity. “can you... can you eat my ass again? please? i think it’ll make my brain stop feeling fuzzy.”
she looked up at you with those glassy, pleading eyes, her entire demeanor having shifted from a seductive predator to a needy, confused kitten. the bratty girl was gone, replaced by a girl who was so thoroughly overwhelmed by her own arousal that she could barely articulate her own desires. she was shamelessly asking for more, but she was doing it with such pathetic, adorable innocence that it was impossible not to feel a surge of possessive amusement.
you couldn’t help but let out a low, incredulous laugh at how utterly broken her brain was. the sight of this legendary flirt, this dangerous girl lying there on the bathroom counter asking to have her butt butt eaten like a confused idiot, was the ultimate proof of your victory. she wasn’t just tamed; she was completely rewired by you.
“your ‘butt butt’?” you repeated, your voice dripping with amusement as you reached down to cup her flushed cheek. your thumb traced her swollen lower lip, feeling the way she shivered at the contact. “you really have no shame left, do you?”
chaewon just nodded weakly, her eyes half lidded as she leaned into your palm. “no shame,” she whispered breathlessly, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. “just need... you. please, (y/n). the tongue thing. right there.”
without another word, you acted on her dazed request. you didn’t let her sit up; instead, you grabbed her hips and flipped her back over onto her stomach, pressing her chest down against the marble once more. her ass was thrust up again, the skin still tender and pink from your earlier punishment, the entrance to her cunt still glistening and swollen from your fingers.
you dropped to your knees again, the position familiar and hungry. this time, there was no hesitation. you leaned forward, your breath hot against her sensitized skin before your tongue made contact. you started slow, tasting the salty sweat and the lingering evidence of her climax, before deliberately moving lower to where she had asked.
when your tongue swirled around her entrance, tasting the delicate skin of her ass, chaewon let out a sound that was half sob, half whimper. “yes... oh fuck, yes…” she moaned into the sink, her fingers curling into tight fists against the marble. “that’s it... that’s the feeling…”
you became more aggressive, your tongue working with a sinful hunger. you licked deep into the crease where her ass met her thighs, then focused your attention on her most vulnerable spot. you used the tip of your tongue to probe and tease, tasting every inch of her as if you were trying to memorize her through taste alone. the wet, slurping sounds filled the small space, echoing off the tiles as you devoured her again.
chaewon was a mess of contradictions. her body was still trembling from the aftershocks of her previous climax, but the new stimulation was sending fresh waves of electricity through her. “oh (y/n)... i’m gonna— i’m gonna break again, fuck, please don’t stop!” she wailed, her hips bucking involuntarily as your tongue found a rhythm that made her vision swim.
she was completely surrendered to the sensation, her cockiness long dead, her mind reduced to nothing but the feeling of your warm, wet tongue claiming her. she lay there, exposed and vulnerable, begging for more with every shuddering breath, completely undone by the girl she had tried to toy with all night.
you drove your tongue harder against her, relentless and consuming, tasting every slick fold and every tremor of her surrender. the sensation of her cunt clamping around the air as she climaxed again this time even more violently sent vibrations through your own body. chaewon’s legs splayed wide, her thighs quivering uncontrollably as she surrendered to another earth shattering orgasm that left her sobbing into the marble.
when you finally pulled away, leaving her panting and completely wrecked, you stood up and looked down at the masterpiece you had created. chaewon lay there, motionless except for the occasional shuddering breath, her skin a map of flushed pink and crimson marks. she looked beautiful in her defeat, raw, honest, and utterly owned.
the bathroom was thick with the scent of sweat, arousal, and the undeniable musk of surrender. chaewon lay motionless on the counter, her body still twitching from the aftershocks of her second climax, her mind clearly floating somewhere far beyond the reach of reality. but as you looked down at her at her exposed, swollen entrance and the way her hips still instinctively jerked in search of more you knew that tasting her wasn’t enough. you didn’t just want to consume her; you wanted to fill her, to claim her completely with something that would remind her exactly who she belonged to.
reaching into your bag, you pulled out the harness and the thick, imposing silicone strap on you had prepared for tonight. the sight of it made chaewon’s eyes flutter open. her dazed expression faltered for a second as she saw the dark, imposing shape of it, but the fear that should have come was immediately drowned out by a desperate, starving need. she didn’t pull away; instead, she weakly arched her back, presenting herself to you even more shamelessly.
you buckled the harness tight around your hips, the leather creaking in the quiet room. you moved behind her, positioning yourself so that you were hovering directly over her. the tip of the strap on pressed against her entrance still slick, still swollen, and still pulsing from your tongue and chaewon let out a broken, needy whimper at the contact.
“you asked for more, didn’t you, chaewon?” you whispered darkly, your voice vibrating against her heated skin. “you wanted to be filled?”
without waiting for her answer, you drove into her. you didn’t ease in; you thrust with a deliberate, commanding force that forced the thick silicone past her tight ring. chaewon’s scream was muffled against the marble as her body was forced to accommodate the sudden, massive invasion. her hips bucked violently, her fingers clawing at the sink as her insides stretched to their absolute limit to make room for you.
it was a brutal, possessive penetration. you began to fuck her with a relentless, piston like rhythm. each thrust was deep and uncompromising, driving the strap on all the way to the hilt until your hips slammed against her ass cheeks with a wet, meaty smack. the sound was primal, filling the cramped space and echoing off the mirrors. you weren’t just fucking her; you were marking her territory, claiming every inch of her internal space with each powerful stroke.
“fuck... (y/n)... oh god, fuck me!” chaewon shrieked, her voice cracking as she lost all semblance of control. her head thrashed against the mirror, leaving smeared prints of sweat and tears. the feeling of being stretched so completely, of being filled by something so unyielding and powerful, was overwhelming her nervous system. she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think she could only feel the overwhelming presence of you inside her.
you increased the pace, your movements becoming faster and more aggressive. you grabbed her hips with bruising force, holding her steady so you could pound into her with maximum impact. every thrust sent waves of pleasure pain through her, her walls clamping down around the silicone in desperate, involuntary spasms. the squelching sound of the friction between you was obscene, a raw testament to how thoroughly she had been opened up for you.
chaewon was completely undone. her legs were shaking so badly she couldn’t keep them spread, forcing you to hook them over your shoulders to gain even deeper access. from this position, every thrust felt like it was reaching her very soul. “i’m yours... oh fuck, i’m yours, (y/n)! please, don’t stop, don’t ever stop!” she wailed, her words breaking into incoherent moans as you drove her closer and closer to the edge.
you focused all your energy on the rhythm, finding the exact angle that made her cry out in ecstasy. you watched her face in the mirror, the way her eyes rolled back, the way her mouth hung open in silent screams of pleasure, the way her flushed skin glistened under the harsh fluorescent lights. she was beautiful in her ruin, a broken masterpiece that only you knew how to create.
finally, you accelerated to a fever pitch, your thrusts becoming short, rapid, and punishing. you could feel her climax building not just a normal orgasm, but the kind that tore through the body and left the mind shattered. her cunt began to spasm around the strap on with terrifying intensity, her entire body locking up as she screamed one last time before collapsing into a full body convulsion.
as she climaxed, you delivered several more devastating thrusts, ensuring she felt every bit of your power as she came. when you finally finished, you didn't pull out immediately. you stayed buried inside her, your hips pressed against her quivering ass, letting her feel the weight of your dominance as her breathing gradually slowed from hysterical gasps to weak, shuddering sobs. chaewon lay there, utterly spent, hollowed out, and completely, irrevocably owned by you.
the silence that followed was heavy, charged with the residual electricity of your combined climax. you remained positioned over her, your hips still pressed against her flushed ass cheeks, the strap on still buried deep inside her. you could feel the slow, rhythmic pulsing of her internal walls as they gradually relaxed around the silicone, each contraction a faint echo of the ecstasy you had just forced from her.
chaewon was completely motionless. her forehead rested against the cool marble of the sink, her breathing so shallow it was almost imperceptible. her body felt boneless beneath you, drained of every ounce of energy. the only sign she was still conscious was the way her fingers occasionally twitched against the counter, and the wet, broken sounds escaping her throat as she tried to catch her breath.
slowly, deliberately, you began to withdraw. you pulled away inch by inch, letting her feel the stretch and the fullness one last time before freeing her. as you finally slid out, the wet sound of your exit seemed to echo in the small room. chaewon let out a long, weak whimper at the loss of the fullness, her hips involuntarily dipping downward as if trying to chase after what you had taken away.
chaewon lay motionless for several long minutes, a broken doll draped over the marble. but as the initial haze of her climax began to recede, a new sense of purpose one born of complete, shameless devotion, took hold. her mind was still fuzzy, her body still aching from the punishment and the penetration, but she knew what she had to do to show you she truly belonged to you.
with agonizing slowness, she pushed herself up from the sink. her legs trembled so violently she had to grip the edge of the counter just to stay upright. her ass was flushed crimson, swollen and leaking from the intensity of what you had just done to her. she turned to face you, her eyes glassy and unfocused, but there was a raw, desperate need in them that hadn’t faded.
without being asked, she sank to her knees on the cold bathroom tile. the position felt foreign to someone who usually walked the hallways with such cocky arrogance, but she didn’t care. she crawled toward you on hands and knees, her movements uncoordinated and clumsy, until she was positioned directly between your thighs.
her gaze fixed on the harness and the thick silicone strap. it was slick with her own arousal and the evidence of your shared climax. instead of turning away in disgust or embarrassment, chaewon reached out with unsteady hands, her fingers brushing against the harness. her touch was reverent, almost worshipful.
she leaned forward, bringing her face close to the silicone. “i want to clean it,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and cracked from screaming. “i want to make it clean for you, (y/n).”
then, she began. she started at the base of the strap, using her tongue to lap up every stray drop of moisture that clung to the harness. her movements were slow and methodical, her tongue working with surprising delicacy despite her obvious exhaustion. she licked around the ridges of the silicone, tasting herself and you, savoring the salty, musky aftertaste of the encounter.
she moved with a single minded focus, her tongue swirling around the shaft, cleaning every inch with wet, deliberate strokes. the sound of her lapping at the silicone, the soft, squelching noises in the quiet bathroom was intimate and intensely charged. she wasn’t just cleaning it; she was claiming the tool you had used to break her, treating it as something sacred because it was an extension of your will.
chaewon’s cheeks were flushed pink as she worked, her breath coming in quick puffs against the cool material. when she reached the tip, she lingered there, her tongue circling the head before she took as much of it as she could into her mouth, sucking gently as if trying to draw out every last trace of the moment you had just shared.
when she finally finished, she pulled back, a thin string of saliva connecting her lips to the now glistening silicone. she looked up at you from her position on the floor, her hair disheveled, her face tear stained, and her eyes completely unguarded. she looked utterly wrecked, but in that moment, there was no trace of the bratty girl left. there was only chaewon: your pet, your plaything, and your most devoted subject, waiting silently for your next command.
you looked down at her from your position above, feeling a surge of absolute dominance that made your blood sing. the sight of her, the college’s most feared flirt, now reduced to a kneeling, panting mess cleaning your harness with her tongue was more intoxicating than any drug. you reached down, your fingers tangling in her sweat dampened hair, and forced her to tilt her head back so she had to look up at you.
her expression was one of pure, unguarded worship. the dazed, ‘dumb’ look hadn’t fully left her eyes; she still looked slightly broken, her pupils blown wide as she stared at you with desperate affection.
“good girl,” you purred, the praise making her shiver visibly against the tile.
chaewon let out a soft, broken sound at the compliment, something between a whimper and a purr. “was i good, (y/n)? did i do it right?” she asked, her voice barely audible. she didn’t seem to care about the humiliation of being on her knees in a public party bathroom; she only cared about the approval in your hungy eyes.
you let your hand slide from her hair to her throat, not squeezing, but simply letting her feel the weight of your palm against her windpipe. “you did exactly what you were supposed to do,” you murmured. “you’re learning your place.”
chaewon’s breathing hitched. “i want to learn more,” she whispered, her hands coming up to rest tentatively on your thighs, clinging to you like a lifeline. “i want to learn everything you want to teach me. please... just don’t leave me like this. don’t leave me alone.”
the vulnerability in her voice was startling. she was terrified of the moment this would end the moment you would unbuckle the harness, dress yourself, and walk out that door, leaving her alone with the wreckage of her own body and the memory of how thoroughly you had claimed her. she needed your presence to feel real again; she needed your control to feel safe.
you leaned down, pressing a slow, possessive kiss to her forehead. “i’m not going anywhere yet,” you promised, though you knew you held all the power to decide when ‘yet’ became ‘never.’ “but you're still trembling, chaewon. are you still scared? or are you still wanting to?”
she swallowed hard, the bone of her neck bobbing beneath your fingertips. “both,” she confessed honestly, a single tear escaping and tracking through the dried salt on her cheek. “i’m scared of how much i need you... but i want you to fuck me again. i want you to ruin me until i can’t remember my own name.”
the raw honesty of her request made your grip on her hair tighten slightly. she wasn’t pretending anymore. the performance was over. there was no more flirting, no more games, just a girl who had been stripped bare by pleasure and pain, begging to be consumed entirely by the one who had broken her.
hello! could you do something with lsf chaewon/reader/aespa karina? where the reader is like seeing both of them behind their backs and they find out and try to get back at her but she ends up taking charge of both of them anyways? like hard!dom and mean!reader? sorry if this doesn’t make sense
Y/n looks at the two girls in front of her, both hanging their heads in shame, unable to look her in the eyes. There was irony in how they've ended up in the position and it rested on the fact that Y/n was the one who got caught. She should be feeling some type of guilt, instead it's her two "girlfriends" that feel that way while she feels nothing but pity for them.
Instead, Y/n made it seem like this mess was largely caused by Karina. Y/n never told her they were exclusive. In fact she told her, "don't go snooping" as a warning that she may discover things she wouldn't want to know. But Karina didn't listen, thinking that this could be more than casual. She quickly learned she was wrong when she accessed Y/n's phone while she was in the shower. There were hundreds of texts from Chaewon, someone who Karina considered a friend. These texts weren't just friendly back and forth between two friends, no, these texts were downright filthy, vomit-inducing even. There were pictures of a scantily clad Chaewon and mentions of meeting up "again." Karina is surprised she didn't find nudes from Chaewon, or any other person for that matter, but she couldn't go too deep for the sake of protecting herself.
Maybe going to Chaewon was a mistake. She was equally upset as Karina, but instead of just agreeing to move on from Y/n and let this all fizzle out, Chaewon wanted to confront her. Karina knew in her bones that that wasn't going to work in their favor but somehow she was convinced. Unfortunately she learned she should've trusted her gut.
Karina's snooping and Chaewon trying to instigate a little coup was thrown back in her face. The two look remorseful enough, but words just wouldn't make up for the annoyance this caused Y/n and she wanted them to show how sorry they are. They should've known how risky this would be and that the odds weren't not on their side.
Karina, more so than Chaewon, was mortified by what was being asked of them by Y/n. Her and Chaewon's short dresses did nothing to cover them up and Y/n could see the outlines of their puffy pussies with ease. If she were to look hard enough she would be able to see Chaewon's growing arousal. Something about the way Y/n barked at them should've left her terrified, instead she was trying to hide how turned on she is by the lack of empathy coming from Y/n. She could already imagine Y/n rubbing her clit and taunting her for moaning like a bitch in heat.
"You two just had to stir the pot and fuck up what we had," Y/n observes them from behind. She can see Karina shivering, she knows that girl too well. "Let's see if you'll have fun now."
The sense of power felt like a fire inside of Y/n. This was something that Karina only got a few glimpses of and Chaewon hadn't experienced yet. Y/n doesn't like for her daily life to be disrupted, especially not by bratty girls. She loves not only having the power, but the element of surprise on her side. Both of them are looking forward, unable to see how close she is.
"Kiss each other."
Karina freezes, her body turning cold. Despite her discovery, she still feels a weird sense of loyalty to Y/n as in she doesn't want to ruin what they have. Chaewon is her friend, someone she has never seen in this light despite thinking how cute she is. Their situation was fucked enough to be worrying about whether or not this was going to ruin the friendship between them. She was going to obey Y/n more than anything; that's more important to her at this moment than anything else. The hold she has on Karina is almost embarrassing. She's more than willing to do what she can to please Y/n even if that means kissing another girl. Chaewon is the one that has to pull through with confidence right now. She puts more effort into the kiss than Karina does which Y/n immediately notices.
"C'mon 'Rina. You weren't scared when you went through my phone, don't be scared now. Kiss her back, baby." Y/n was taunting her, and having fun while doing so. All Karina focused on was how she called her 'baby' and how sweet it sounded coming out of her mouth. Contrasted by the situation she was in, that pet name sent her into action.
It's so easy to get Karina all flustered. Y/n knows that she must be wet and turned on from feeling her friend's lips against her own. She herself was turned on seeing them bent over in their short dresses. Her situation with Chaewon was just beginning to blossom and she was eager to try her out even if it had to be in front of Karina.
Karina gasps into Chaewon's mouth when she feels Y/n's fingers caressing her soft flesh through her panties. Her heart was beating so loud in her ears she thought it was going to stop at any moment. She hates that her body gives into every single touch of Y/n's, no matter how small it is. The tips of her finger brushes against her clothed clit and it feels so good. She reaches over and does the same to Chaewon. Y/n didn't have to touch her to know she was enjoying this but to feel the dampness of her panties indicated that her pussy was leaking. She should be embarrassed about the now visible wet patch on her panties, but Chaewon was admittedly shameless. That's what drew Y/n to her.
"Don't stop kissing her," Y/n gives a warning to Karina who was beginning to falter because of her touch. Y/n pushed her fingers hard against the bundle of nerves which caused Karina to shudder.
The absence of Y/n's fingers applying pressure to her clit almost makes Chaewon whine, but soon she feels Y/n pulling her panties down to expose her pussy. Y/n doesn't know if she's ever seen a pussy so pretty; so pink and swollen. Chaewon's pussy is dripping with arousal. She can visualize herself filling up her sweet twat while Chaewon buries her face buried in Karina's pussy. She scissors her lips apart and watches the strings of arousal form. Y/n groans, unable to control herself, and she leans in to lick her soft pussy to get a taste of her. She was sweeter than she imagined.
Karina's face may be buried into the bed, but there was no way to cover her ears to hide the sound of Y/n's tongue against Chaewon's pussy. She heard her lick and suck on her like she was the juiciest fruit. Jealousy crept up and gave her heart a squeeze, however that feeling became fleeting and replaced with something warmer. On the surface she wanted to remain pissed at Y/n for putting her in this situation, but her growing lust had her feeling something else. She cursed herself for thinking like a horny teenager and prioritizing her arousal over her feelings. The fact that it was Chaewon next to her makes things more complicated. If it was a stranger and not someone she has been friend's with like Chaewon, this wouldn't feel like such a huge betrayal. However, she wouldn't want to be in this position with someone other than two women that she trusts. She finds herself getting pleasure from kissing Chaewon's soft lips, her body getting hotter every time their lips dance together. In her head she's able to spin the situation as her and Y/n caging Chaewon in and having fun with her instead of both of them being at Y/n's whims.
She tenses up when she feels her panties being pulled down. She breaks the kiss with Chaewon and looks back at Y/n. They catch each other's eyes for a split second before Y/n turns her attention back to Karina's pussy. She was face to face with her girlfriend's gorgeous cunt. She doesn't want to compare the two, and won't allow herself to, instead she thinks about how she has the best of both worlds right now. Anyone would be lucky to have at least one of them in bed let alone the both of them.
"You're dripping, Rina," Y/n teases. For someone who seemed so hesitant at first she surely was turned on. "No matter how hard you try to hide it, this cute little pussy always gives you away."
Y/n gives her the same treatment as Chaewon, but it was much harder to pull her mouth away from Karina's twat. She gives it more than one lick, wanting more than just a taste of her sweetness. She wraps her lips around her girlfriend's clit and sucks on it. She's lost in the feeling of her flesh and sounds of her moans, but Y/n isn't so lost that she forgets about Chaewon. Her thumb gently strokes her swollen clit while continuing to suck on Karina's sensitive nub. Even the light brush strokes the fire inside of Chaewon. She pushes back against Chaewon's thumb for more. Both of them began to moan in harmony. Karina was no longer holding back any sort of noise that begged to escape from her throat. It felt too good not to moan, especially when she felt Y/n grab a handful of her ass. Her tongue was constantly rolling over her sensitive clit to get an even louder and bigger reaction out of her. She knows her Karina is weak, that it'll just take a few more strokes of her tongue. And Karina does start to feel like she's going to cum and she lets out a little whimper -- exactly what Y/n wanted to hear.
It's not enough, but for now it is. Y/n, somewhat satisfied, pulls her mouth away from Karina's pussy. She steps back and watches her girlfriend squirm from being denied her pleasure, and it makes her smirk.
"Turn around."
When the two obey, they obey quickly. Y/n loved to throw a command at them just to see them scramble. Desperate. They're so fucking desperate that they'll do anything, and admit to anything.
"So who's idea was it?"
Y/n comes off as menacing standing over them. She wanted to know which one of them had the bright idea of trying to confront her just to satisfy her own curiosity. Karina is silent, not surprising, but it's Chaewon's body language that is telling. She won't even look up at her; she was the culprit.
"'Rina, you've always been the jealous type, but I know you. You get too shy, too clammy sometimes. Chae on the other hand..."
At this point, so deep in it, it really doesn't matter who orchestrated what but Y/n was having too much fun teasing them. Y/n wasn't really that pissed about the situation. Yes, she was annoyed that she was put in this situation in the first place, but Y/n has been seen worse.
"What did you want to get out of this?"
Y/n isn't sure who exactly she's asking that question, but it's Chaewon who answers.
"You were playing us both! It wasn't fair."
"Playing you? Nothing was ever exclusive. I've told you, both of you actually, that no one was going to tie me down. Whatever delusions you made up in your head is your own, not mine."
It stung hearing those words come from Y/n's mouth and it hurt Karina the most. Chaewon was kind of just having some fun, but Karina on the other hand thought this was more. She feels a little stupid for assuming what your position on the relationship was when you've never said anything to her about it.
Karina's feelings are written all over her face. You shake your head in disbelief at her.
"Tsk, tsk. Who taught you to be so selfish, Karina? They teach you how to share when you're young, but you've been spoiled beyond belief. Chaewon, why don't you climb on top and sit on her face? I'm sure Karina will be more than happy to make you feel good."
She didn't intend to come off as greedy, but with a new perspective given to her by Y/n it seems as if she was being selfish all along. She's too clouded by shame and lust to see through Y/n's narrative. So she let her body sink into Y/n's bed as Chaewon swung her legs around her head. Her knees press into the bed while she hovers over Karina's head. She hesitated for just a second before she saw the look Y/n had on her and lowered her sex onto Karina's mouth. Karina was going to be a good girl and listen, so she parted her lips and felt the taste of Chaewon's cunt flood her mouth. She never expected to be so enthused to eat out someone who wasn't Y/n but she found herself gripping her friend's soft thighs and harshly licking her clit.
"Fuck!" Chaewon throws her head back and cries out. Y/n stands there watching them, her arms folded as she enjoys the show.
Y/n's eyes flicker between Karina's tongue lapping at Chaewon's clit and Karina's pussy. Her legs were slightly parted just enough for Y/n to see her arousal glisten in the light. She wanted so desperately to crawl between those legs, but she showed restraint. The last thing she wants to do is send the wrong message to these girls, that they have the ability to make her weak. Instead she waits and indulges in watching the two pleasure each other. Chaewon's tits bounce as her body shakes on top of Karina. Y/n never knew Karina had this in her fingers dig into her hips while eating her out. Chaewon is close to cumming, her moans getting louder and her legs quivering. Karina's tongue is slightly skilled, but it's enough to please. Chaewon is almost doubled over and white-hot pleasure. A string of expletives leaving her mouth. She swirls her tongue around Chaewon's clit, loving the feeling of it pulsing against her tongue. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm close...I'm gonna cum!" Chaewon cries out desperately.
Y/n was a little jealous that the two were seemingly getting wrapped up in each other, almost forgetting that she was standing there watching them. She felt her own arousal making her damp. The first drops of Chaewon's orgasm gush out of her and onto Karina's mouth. Karina hums against her pussy and the further vibrations make Chaewon shiver to the very end of her high.
Despite the tension between her legs, Y/n felt it was only fair that Chaewon returned the favor and gave Karina the same treatment. She was more than happy to, bending over to place herself between Karina's legs. It was so hot to watch her grab her thighs and push them further apart like she was a wild animal. Her mouth was pressed to Karina's sex within seconds. She got to work lapping at her folds and then her clit. Karina wasn't prepared for the whirlwind that Chaewon was and she cried out in shock.
Karina was lost in the way Chaewon tongue teased her pussy and how she was still dripping from her own orgasm. She's not sure how Y/n got this far into her head, but she got some sort of from having her friend eat her pussy while she sinks into Y/n’s bed. Y/n had a power over her that no one else has ever been able to achieve. The feeling of Chaewon’s lips curling around her clit hit her like a wave of pleasure and she threw her head back into the pillows, letting out a string of moans.
The pleasure was blinding. She couldn’t focus on anything but the sensations between her legs. It seemed like the sound of Chaewon licking and sucking her was louder than her own moans. Her legs shook uncontrollably as it became impossible to do anything else besides give into the pleasure. It all felt so good
Y/n watched them with a smug look on her face. They were so pissed at her yet here they are, naked bodies pressed together and pleasuring each other one after one. It was cute how Karina still seemed too shy to moan as loudly as Chaewon as she let out little whimpers and sighs. She was shivering.
“You like that?” Y/n asked, amused by how her body was reacting. Karina was able to cut through all the noise, and hearing Y/n’s voice made her cum.
Chaewon felt the gush from Karina’s pussy against her mouth, just like Karina felt it earlier with her. She loved the taste, lapping at her folds until she could swallow every drop. Both of them were worn from cumming so hard and their bodies got heavier. Karina didn’t mind the extra weight pushing her deeper into Y/n’s bed. She felt it in her bones that her body was too lazy to even try to move. They had to catch their breath and recover as quickly as possible.
“Well, well, well. Look at you two.”
The tone of Y/n’s voice is condescending. They feel like they’ve just been caught with each other and it makes them straighten out. They weren’t scared per say but they were still on edge, waiting for what might happen next.
“Most people would hold a grudge against their friend for fucking around with their girlfriend behind their back, but not you two…”
Y/n thinks about how much fun they had getting off on her degrading them and having them make each other cum that she’s sticky with her own arousal. If she doesn’t get her release she just might explode.
“Get up and off the bed,” Y/n snaps. She moves them around like they’re her toys. They obey quickly scrambling off the bed, making way for Y/n to lay on the bed. It was as if they knew what she was going to say, reading her mind, and they got down on their knees in front of her. She felt like a queen feeling their nimble fingers pulling at her jeans and eventually her panties.
Y/n's legs hang over the bed, her ass on the edge, and her legs open. The wetness glistens under the lights and both Karina and Chaewon find themselves drooling at the sight. She may be wetter than the two of them combined when they tongued each other down. Her lips were puffy and swollen from arousal, her sex begging to be touched.
Chaewon moved in first, but Karina wasn't far behind her. Their heads bumped into each other as the craving of Y/n's sweet taste made them feral. Their tongues fought to be the one licking and lapping at Y/n's pussy. Y/n looks down between her legs to see their tongues becoming intertwined. Y/n moans, the sounds motivated by pleasure but also the feeling of power that comes from watching two girls fighting their way to her pussy. She props herself on her elbows to give herself a good view of them licking her cunt in tandem. She watched as Karina overpowered Chaewon and she was able to press her tongue against Y/n's clit. Chaewon settled for sliding her tongue across her folds, the tip of her tongue occasionally poking at her entrance.
"Good girls...good fucking girls," Y/n coos. She can barely speak, but she's so proud to see her girls now getting along with the shared goal of pleasing her. Y/n is so selfish, but she doesn't care. She can't think about anything besides finally feeling the blissful pleasure she deserves.
Both of them were eager to please Y/n. Karina never thought she was capable of doing something like this. She could feel Y/n’s clit pulse against her tongue. She would move her tongue in a particular way just to see Y/n's reaction. When she saw her furrowed brow and open mouth, it dawned on Karina that this is the first time she's seeing Y/n look vulnerable. The sounds of their tongues and lips on her sex fill the room. It sounded like the two were sucking on a ripe summer fruit. Chaewon hums against Y/n's clit, and it makes her twitch. Her eyes met Y/n's and she felt it, a jolt of pleasure running through her body. She kept a rhythm going against her clit until she felt Y/n tense up and hold her breath. It was like a wave crashing into her as their wet tongues pressed into her flesh to collect every drop of her arousal. They moaned at the taste, and their feast began to create a mess of cum and saliva.
Y/n lets her arms give in and she allows herself to fully melt into her own pleasure. She sinks into the bed and closes her eyes while her girls are softly licking her sensitive folds. She would never admit it to them, but that's probably the hardest she's cum in a while. Earlier in the night when Karina and Chaewon confronted her, Y/n contemplated kicking them out until she figured out what to do with them. She would've confronted them one-by-one, but she's glad she didn't because two heads are better than one.
All stories are fictional, not accurate depictions of real life or the people featured.
Pairing: Kylie Jenner/Reader
Summary: Girls Night In turns a little bit slutty. WC: ~1.7K WORDS.
Content: 3rd pov. Best friends, alcohol consumption, teasing, tit play, Kylie has some subbish tendencies, oral sex (Kylie receiving), not proofread! NSFW LINK (18+)
honey's weekend sleepover
The third glass of wine might've been overdoing. Y/n could feel it the moment she set the empty glass down and felt the room shift a little. Nothing too much, but she definitely feels the warm haze fall over her, and everything has a soft glow to it. Next to her, Kylie laughs at the something in the movie they're barely paying attention to. They tangled on the bed, surrounded by a nest of soft pillows and warm blankets around them. The dim light helps the colors from the TV paint the room in bright colors. All of it comes together to make Y/n feel like her body is floating.
"I feel so warm," Kylie stretches her arms over her head and sighs heavily. The movement lifted the hem of her soft pink satin pajama top, giving a flash of her tanned skin.
She had drank as much as Y/n, but was feeling it much differently. The rosiness of her cheeks and restless movements almost gave her away. Y/n watches her roll onto her stomach, eyes glued on the way Kylie's pajama shorts hugs the curve of her ass.
"I feel sleepy."
"No," Kylie draws out her complaint. "We can't go to sleep yet. We haven't even done all the fun stuff yet," she whines.
Y/n rolls her eyes until she feels Kylie place her leg across her lap, making her mouth go dry. This isn't new for them; Kylie is always this close and affectionate. A tease sometimes too. She gets a little alcohol in her system and she's being handsy with the person she's most comfortable with. Y/n feels the temperature rising in the room, but she doesn't know if it's just her or if it's something else. She fans herself off, her chest moving as she does so. Kylie looks up at her when she hears her let out the sigh of satisfaction. Her eyes land right on her breast, peaking out the top of her flimsy tank top. Kylie can't help but notice how hard her nipples look. She's nearly drooling like a perv over her best friend but she doesn't want to stop.
"If you're hot, you can just take your top off."
Her coquettish tone and the smile on her face was nothing but trouble. Y/n playfully rolls her eyes at her again, fully in the know about what she's doing. During the last 'Girls Night In' ended with both of them out of their underwear and pussies pressed together. Y/n wasn't opposed to doing something like that with Kylie, but mixing friendship and pleasure is a slippery slope. However, tonight, she's had a little too much to drink to think about that.
"Are you trying to get me naked again?"
Kylie nods her head, "mhm, and I hope it's working."
The air between them was charged. Y/n hesitates, but with Kylie's eyes waiting for her next move, she feels her skin getting hotter by the second. The heat coiling in her belly is hard to ignore now. Those soft brown eyes were pleading with her to take her top off. A few moments later and Y/n's pulling the white cotton over her head, exposing her chest to her best friend. It's exactly what Kylie wanted to see as her eyes darken with pure hunger. She has been waiting for this all night. Even if it she were just a catch a glimpse of Y/n's soft tits that'd be fine, but it's impossible to keep her hands to herself with them right in front of her face.
"I loved your tits. They're so fucking hot."
"Yours are bigger than mine," Y/n jokes, but Kylie doesn't laugh with her. Her eyes are too trained on the tits in front of her face. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as if she was starving with a full-course meal in front of her. The only thing she thinks about is how hard your nipples are and how she wants to make them even harder.
Her body is pressed up against Y/n's, closing any distance between them. Y/n sighs at the feeling of Kylie's satin pajamas cool against her skin. Kylie's touch feels electric as her hands cup both of her tits. She presses them together, softness against softness. The feeling sends a jolt straight to Y/n's core and she knows she's going to be a dripping mess within the next few seconds. But she lets her body relax against the pillows and blankets of Kylie's bed as her best friend lowers her mouth.
The first contact of Kylie's lips and her nipples is heavenly. It's a slow and deliberate suck. "Fuck Kylie," she groans feeling the cold wetness of her mouth engulfing her nipple. The pleasure is immediate and it's intense.
Kylie moans against her skin and soon she's locked in a lustful daze, fueled by alcohol and uncontrolled desired for her best friend. She sucks harder on her nipple while her hand plays with the other. Every moan that comes from Y/n's mouth feels like a reward of some sort. She lets her teeth lightly graze the hard peak, knowing that Y/n likes a little roughness with her play. Kylie feels hands tangle in her hair and keep her mouth pressed right against Y/n's tits. It wasn't easy to let it pop out of her mouth and move right over to the next one but with determination she was able to. Y/n arches her back up into her best friend's body. She can feel Kylie's own nipples hardening under her tank and knows her pussy is probably even wetter than her's right now. It was all about her in this moment, but she can't help but think about her best friend's sweet pussy. She's only got to eat it once, but she was dying for more. Y/n can't get the taste out of her head and the sound of Kylie's moans even if it did happen months ago.
"D-Do…do you want me -- shit -- to eat your pussy?"
The words were a struggle to get out with Kylie sucking so harshly on her nipples, but once she did, Kylie was popping her nipple out of her mouth with a loud pop. She looks up at her with the most deseperate, pleading eyes, and drool on her chin. She looked so fucking pathetic, thirsty for her best friend's tits.
"Please?"
She acts as if Y/n wouldn't eat her pussy in a heartbeat. She watched how Kylie paraded all night in those little shorts and how her ass poked out of them. Y/n wanted to grab her ass a few times in the night, but kept her hands to herself. Now with full permission, she bends her best friend over the bed and pulls down her shorts to reveal Kylie's dripping sex.
"Holy fuck, Kylie. You're a mess."
Kylie responds with a whine. She knows she so wet, which is why she's trying to push her ass back into Y/n's face. But Y/n admired her ass for just a few more seconds. Kylie was obsessed with Y/n's tits, but Y/n was more into her ass. Her thumb presses so hard into the underside of her plush thighs that it might just leave a bruise. Getting to spread her ass and watch how her pink pussy peaks out is breathtaking. She lips were swollen, almost the same color pink as her pajamas. Y/n just knows her pussy is begging to be touched, a single bead of arousal dripping from her lips.
“Y/n…” Kylie whispers, her voice muffled by the blanket she has her face buried in. It's an unmistakable plea for pleasure.
Y/n's not much of a tease like Kylie, her mouth is pressed against Kylie's pussy in seconds. Her breath fans over the soft flesh, her delicate skin reacting in seconds. There were no thoughts in Y/n's head, just action and the need to get a taste of her best friend's pink pussy again. She presses a soft, open-mouth kiss right up against her swollen cunt. Kylie feels a full-body shudder ripple through her as a broken moan slips out of her mouth. Y/n kiss her pussy again, then again, until she sticks her tongue out and runs it along her sensitive pearl.
"Fuck! Just like that!"
Kylie's encouragement, along with the taste of her cunt, makes Y/n feel bolder. Y/n's fingers continue to dig into her ass and spread them apart as she licks hungrily at her best friend's pussy. She could feel the way Kylie's clit pulsed against her tongue and it sent her into a frenzy. She could almost hear her jaw click from how much she works it licking away at Kylie's flesh. She licks from her clit and all the way up to the edge of her tightest hole. Goosebumps begin to form on Kylie's skin from the sensation of Y/n's tongue just barely teasing her asshole. She's not sure if Y/n will ever go that far with her, but she wouldn't mind it at all.
Y/n continues to lick at her, adding in a few sucks to her clit every now and then. Kylie has never felt so good in her life. Her brain has almost turned into mush from how good it feels. Her knuckles go white from gripping the blanket beneath her. No longer does she have her face buried in it; her moans come out loud and clear and tell Y/n that she's about to cum.
"I love how fucking wet and desperate this cunt gets for me. Is she going to cum, KyKy?"
"Fuck yes!" Kylie grits out.
Her senses are overwhelmed from the way Y/n talks to her, how her hands hold on to her thick ass, and her soft lips wrapping around her clit. Kylie's eyes nearly roll into the back her head from the immense pleasure she feels, a pleasure she can no longer keep contained.
Y/n doesn't think she's ever heard Kylie moan so loud. Not even when she ate her out before or they rubbed their cunts together did Kylie moan and thrash. It could've been the alcohol they consumed, but this time around Kylie completely let go and let her body feel every ounce of pleasure Y/n has to give. The gush against her face made Y/n groan and lap at her best friend's stick folds. Kylie just kept flowing and flowing, like it was never going to end. Even if it didn't, Y/n would've stayed with her face pressed against her pink pussy for as long as she needed to.
There's a first time for everything, and what happened on their night together was something Kylie didn't want to stop. One time had quickly turned into two which snowballed into 4, 5 more times. She had made a promise to you two were best friends, and best friends would do anything for others. Even if that thing was 2 am booty calls.
Over the course of the fall semester the hook-ups between you two became more frequent until it got to a once a week point. There was always some excuse attached to it.
"I'm stressed because of this exam."
"I couldn't hook-up with what-their-face, so now I'm horny."
"I'm bored."
They were excuses that really weren't needed, but it was always Kylie who seemed to need to cover her tracks whenever she came over to your apartment. Every time you welcomed her in and accepted her advances because that's what best friends do. Her sex drive was unsurprisingly much higher than yours and she was the main one who was coming back time and time again for more. You chalked it up to a streak of bad luck of not being able to find a suitable partner despite the number of people on campus. A first you felt like a back-up choice, but once you saw that you were the first choice you felt appreciated instead of used. Quickly the friendship was turning into one with benefits and you didn't complain because you got to get off too with someone who is so eager to please like Kylie. It was just something to pass the time for you, which isn't exactly how Kylie saw it.
At this point Kylie felt like you two were a couple and that's all that should matter. She was allowed to be more affectionate with you without it causing the air to turn stiff. You were receptive to her kisses, hugs, and even cuddled her. But this all happened in the privacy of your respective apartments when Kylie wanted something more.
It wouldn't be hard to go out and find someone else to give her the same thing, but Kylie began to question whether or not someone else could provide her with the same feeling you do. She doesn't know which night in particular it was, but somewhere along the line something in here was triggered and she found herself looking at you in a very different light. However, she wasn't bold enough to come out and ask you what all of this meant. Instead she knew the only way to get her answers was to play it coy and see what she could get you to admit.
The outfits got skimpier, the nights got dirtier, and sometimes it was on display for people to see.
Not wanting to be patronizing, but you cautioned Kylie about letting loose a little too much. You had seen her act like is before and knowing her so much you knew she was doing this for someone. Who that person is is unknown to you, but you just knew that she was being extra to grab the attention of somebody. Her posts online got more frequent with pictures that bordered on scandalous. They were the most thirst-trappiest pictures you've ever seen. Though you began to feel bad when you tried giving Kylie a warning because you saw how her face fell. You stumbled through your words as you tried to walk it back, not trying to shame your best friend, but little did you know that that wasn't the issue for her. You weren't fawning over her like she had intended. You saw all the make-up she had put on and the cleavage she showed and didn't have a single thing to say about it. She only sat there pouting at you because she felt like you were so oblivious.
"It doesn't matter what you post, I'm sorry. It's not my place to say what you should or shouldn't do."
"No, it's okay Y/n. You're just looking out for me."
You're not convinced by her words due to the tone of her voice. Kylie avoids even looking at you now and you feel like an asshole. That's when you realize the only way to remedy this is to make her forget about what you said in some other way.
"Why don't you come over?"
"Right now?" Kylie asked as if she wouldn't drop everything and be there at a moment's notice. You could tell her to jump and she'd say how high. It was almost scary to her how quickly she became infatuated with you.
"Yeah, why not? I'm here alone and I'm sure we can find something to watch."
Both of you knew nobody was going to be watching anything, but you felt a little sheepish just asking her to come over and fuck so you can make up for practically slut-shaming her. Kylie took the bait though and appeared at your door in five minutes. You didn't leave that far away from her, but five minutes feels like record timing for Kylie.
She drops her bag at the front door and leaves her keys on the kitchen island like she owns the place. Your roommate was gone for the weekend which she commonly did so that made your place the spot for your rendezvous with your best friend. Kylie suggested that you two should get a place together next school year, but you're not sure how it would work with living with your fuck buddy. As much as you enjoyed the moments of touching and pleasing each other, Kylie was still your friend at the end of the day and you were treading carefully to not ruin that.
However, you weren't careful enough because before either of you could make it to the bedroom (or hell even the couch), you were making out with each other.
The way Kylie touched you, the way she kissed you, you knew she must have a week's worth of tension built up. Last weekend was busy which meant you two didn't see each other at all. You have gone a whole summer without seeing Kylie, yet you've never seen her act like this before. It crosses your mind that perhaps you're opening an entire can of worms with this situation, but those thoughts quickly melt away when you feel Kylie cup your pussy through your pajama shorts.
"Someone's fucking eager," you say breathlessly between kisses. Every word that comes out of your mouth you manage to make it sound teasing. Kylie felt her heart squeeze and her pussy was getting wetter at the thought of you taunting her some more.
"I can't help it."
I missed you.
Kylie had to bite back every word she truly wanted to say, but it came out in the feverish kiss she pressed to your lips, cheek, and neck. You let her take control for just a brief moment because you knew how things ended up going. She will get needy and whiny, begging for you to fuck her, make her cum, just do whatever to her body that makes her feel good. Every time you happily oblige.
"Let's not fuck out here," you tell her, grabbing her hand to move it away from between your legs. Instead you grab it and lead her to your bedroom.
Each step down the hall Kylie feels her breath getting shorter. She has walked down this hall countless times before, but each time it gets harder as her secret wants to bubble up to the surface. It's always you, who is oblivious to her feelings, that drags her out of those thoughts. You push down onto the bed and crawl between her legs. Your soft lips capture hers again and this time you're the one in control. Call her selfish, but Kylie liked to just lay back and let you do whatever to her. She was a little lazy after you'd made her cum two or three times, but she was never a bad friend and she made sure to return the favor.
"I wanna try something new tonight," you mention coyly as you begin to pull down her sweatpants.
"Oh yea? What's that?"
"I really want to play with your ass tonight."
Lust dripped off of every word and it echoed in Kylie's head. The very first time you hooked-up with each other, you couldn't get enough of her ass and you still felt that way. The way her thick ass jiggle every time you slapped it or the noises it made when your skin joined together had you feeling like such a pervert. There had been times when you two had gone out with friends and Kylie drunkenly danced on you, her thick ass pressing into you. It drove you crazy. You wanted to drag her into the dingy bathroom stalls and get on your knees and eat her ass until she was moaning louder than the music that vibrated the walls. To say you were obsessed would be an understatement, but you always kept your play to just smack and grab her ass. Tonight you wanted things to be different.
Kylie just blinked at you for a few seconds. The hesitation was something new, and she had an unreadable look in her eyes. This is something she's never done before, and you know that, so she wonders if this will make things different between you two.
"Okay," she says breathlessly, but the affirmation just isn't enough for you. You want to hear her beg for it, but you let the moment simmer for a second.
You kiss between the valley of her breasts and look up at her like you're so grateful for her decision. Kylie wonders if you can feel her heart thumping against her chest. These feelings feel so unnatural to have for someone who is just supposed to be her best friend, but when you're kissing her and caressing her body, it's when she lets those feelings come out through her actions.
Kylie arches her back to try to feel more of your lips on her skin. You smirk at how she becomes like putty in your hands. You run your hands up her back, lifting her tank top in the process. Kylie feels you grab the latch of her bra and free her tits from the constraint of the fabric. She lifts her arms to help you pull her shirt off and she lays in front of you in nothing but some panties you were going to discard in seconds.
"You're so fucking sexy."
You bite into your bottom lip after making your confession. Sometimes you wonder if your words are a little too crass, but seeing that you've had your tongue buried inside of her cunt before, what you have to do is tame in comparison to what you're going to do to her tonight.
Kylie spreads her legs, her pussy lips spreading in the process. As much as she wanted you to dive in, you took your time. It was nothing but sweet torture as you caressed her soft skin and teased her dripping pussy. She knows exactly what you're waiting for and she willingly gives it to you.
"Please, Y/n...don't tease me today...I need you so bad."
You were taken by surprise at her bold declarative, especially knowing that you were going to be pushing her limit a little today. You almost feel bad for her when you notice the little pout on her plump lips. She's too spoiled, you think to yourself, but you're the one who's guilty of giving into her.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Eat my pussy...please?"
Since she asked so politely, you bury your face in her needy twat. Kylie's moan punches the air and she already begins to grind her pussy against your mouth. You were overwhelmed by the taste of her flooding your senses. This is probably your tenth time eating her pussy and you're surprised that tasting her always feels like the first time. She was the first pussy you've ever tasted in your life and you're not sure anyone can top her. Your mouth has grown to become skillful as you learned what exactly to do to drive her crazy. Kylie loved when you explored her pussy with your tongue only to find its way under the hood of her clit and pressing right into that sensitive bundle of nerves. It was hard for you to understand how she could withstand the onslaught of pleasure, but she barely did. In seconds her body began to thrash and she was shaking. An orgasm in two minutes would be record fucking timing, but seeing how she's acting you wanted to do it.
"Oh my god, Y/n!" She cries out your name like the sweetest melody.
As much as this is for her pleasure, eating her pink pussy gets you worked up too. You snaked your hand between your legs and the bed and began to rub yourself through your panties. If only Kylie could see how you were dripping right now because eating her pussy turns you on so much. You were moaning into her cunt so much that it sent vibration after vibration through her body. It felt so good, overwhelming, but absolutely good.
"I'm gonna cum! Make me fucking cum!"
The way she always begs make you eat or fuck her faster; this time was no different. You wrap your lips around her clit while your tongue assaults the precious button that cracks her wide open. You look up at her to see her pretty face scrunched in pleasure with one hand groping her breast and the other groping your purple bed sheets. She was going to leave a dripping mess on your bed, but you didn't give a damn. You wanted to encourage her to cum against your mouth, but you also didn't want to pull away from her precious pussy.
Kylie cums against your mouth with a strangled cry leaving her throat. You reluctantly pull your hand away from your own pussy, but her hips buck so much that you have to hold her down. There is a slight pain in the way you roughly handle her that adds to Kylie's pleasure. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" She cries out loudly with no regard for which one of your neighbors could hear her.
"Holy shit! Y/n! I love....I-I love it!"
In the hard hitting daze of her orgasm, Kylie almost fucked up and made a confession. She loves what you're doing to her. She loves how you stretch her asshole out. She loves how you make her feel good and give attention. The rush of endorphins raging in her body had her feeling in love. It may not be love, but it feels somewhat close to it.
You watch with lust as your best friend's body shakes and ultimately collapses like an old bridge against the bed. Your hand had fallen from her clit, but you still had two fingers in her asshole. You didn't dare stop pumping them in and out of her tight hole. The sensitive ring had grown accustomed to the size of the fingers in it, so much so that when you did pull out there was the tiniest gape you've ever seen. You thought it was just as adorable as your friend's flushed out face.
"Come here, Ky."
It was rare that you ever held or cuddled Kylie after fucking her. It felt a little too intimate for what you too are, but you figure that after getting her ass fingered for the first time she needed some comfort. She laid comfortably in your arms, fitting like a puzzle piece. You didn't think much about it, just that your best friend was feeling a little bit more needy that showed through affection. You had no clue that every second that past your friend slipped deeper into her feelings for you.
˚₊‧꒰ა ieiri shoko ﾉ f. reader ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𓂃 for medical purposes
⤿ ꒰ using her medical studies to teach you ⭒ fingering ꒱
“a sweet doll like you hasn't been touched before?”
shoko made up for it. with every hither of her long, graceful fingers. stroking so expertly at a nerve bundle that shot shivers up your spine.
an examination, a demonstration— that's what you called it. but as you're splayed out on her table with your panties strewn to the side and your head limped against the wall, you think it's anything but.
her fingers were anything but professional. pumping with a sensual, greedy reverence. she drunk up your slick with her eyes alone. greedy for a new addiction to her tongue.
“look at you. already so wet.” she stole your breath with kisses laved down your neck. your hips bucked into her quickening hand.
you mewled, “sh-sho— shoko please, feels s'good.”
“oh I know it does doll,” she accentuated your lewd pussy with a new angle and faster fingers. “doing so well for me. look at that pretty pussy clench for me. . .”
she's filthy, shameless. her thumb brushed your clit and you jolted, reaching for her wrist. eyes wide and mouth gaped.
she saw your question and smiled. “what's that?” her croon was both parts pleasure and poison. her thumb circled slow, slick circles over your bud. you twitches again, gasping into her lips as she leaned closer.
“that's your clitoris. an erectile female genital organ. it contains numerous sensory nerves and plays a major role in sexual arousal . . . so when i do this.”
a wad of spit aimed at your clit and her circling turned quick, cruel. she smiled into your neck as you threw your head back and whined. “you open up for me so much more.”
her fingers crooked. with a firm pump they shallowed and the pads of her index and middle prodded along. you squirmed a bit but her other hand clamped your waist.
“sshh, I'm looking for it.”
“looking for wh— ah ohgod shoko— sho.”
“there she is.”
your eyes grew glossy and spilled tears. just like your pussy gushing around her fingers that coiled and rubbed into a spongy spot that sent your eyes rolling back.
despite the white, hot pleasure you felt her smirk against your throat as she sucked a lipstick-stained hickey into your skin.
“feel this, dollface?” she circled the spot. fucked her fingers into it just enough to send your back arching and pussy clamping.
“this darling is known as your g-spot. it's apart of your clitoral network. also responsible for immense sexual arousal.”
shoko kisses up your neck and traced her maroon lipstick against your ear. “so let's say I stimulated both. . .”
your eyes gaped. head thrown back. spine arched as you fisted on her labcoat and cried out at the sudden devastating combination. her thumb swirled your clit with an addicting pressure while her fingers come-hithered into that gummy spot.
your muscles taut. eyes rolled back and fluttering. your tummy coiled, mouth hung and tears spilled down your face. aimlessly mouthing her name as your cunt did all the squealing you couldn't fathom.
“there we go, come on pretty girl. cum for me, hm?”
pleasure crashed in tidal waves. you gushed over her palm and stained her sleeve. guess she's found her new favourite coat. the sight made her just as dizzy.
where does she focus? your face or pretty pussy? she couldn't decide, instead she rode you out with skillful hands and soft words.
“there we go, there she is. there's my pretty girl.” as she endlessly pumps through your orgasm, then withdraws once you're conscious enough to tremble her name.
lean fingers spread. your glossy, syrupy orgasm strings between them and she hummed with an almost tender smile. “look at that. . . messed my fingers for your first? needy doll. . .”
her lips met yours then trailed lower. your slick heat wouldn't go to waste, not when she ducked so eagerly between your shaky thighs.
“shoko,” you gasped, uncertain.
“sshhh,” she kissed along your inner thigh, tongue poking out to swipe along your slit. you shivered and braced on her hair.
“not done yet. . . i need to examine your rebound time.”
and that's all you heard before she was muffled by your pussy. putting her tongue to the same work as her fingers. fucking you on her examination table while you mewl into her now heated office.
Woke up feeling so horny today, I couldn’t wait, fucked myself hard with my pink dildo, so deep I ended up squirting, completely surprised by how intense it felt. But that was just the beginning…
omg have u seen TWICE IN VS?? esp MOHYO🥹🥹 can you pleaseee do any plot with Mohyo? or just momo or jihyo based on their VS Show outfit? 🥹🫶🏻
“Pretty Girls”
tw’s//Dom!Mohyo x Fem!Reader, VSModel!Reader, Threesome, double penetration (r!receiving), fingering, dirty talk, soft dom!Jihyo,slight harsh dom!Momo, light spit play, humiliation, reader is a shy shy shy girl//
—
You’d been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever — maybe even too long.
Years of blood, sweat, and tears had finally led you here. You could still remember practicing your walk at rehearsals, the trainers’ sharp eyes following your every move, other models sizing you up like you were a prize they were desperate to steal. You could feel the pressure sitting heavy on your shoulders — but it only made you push harder.
You still remember that call a few months back. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking as your agency’s number lit up your screen. Your stomach twisted into knots, bracing for bad news.
But instead, you heard the words that changed everything.
“You made the cut. You’re officially an Angel, Y/N. Welcome to Victoria’s Secret.
You nearly screamed. Well — you did, just not out loud. You had enough sense to mute yourself before kicking your feet in the air, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. The rush hit you all at once, like you could lift off the ground and never come back down.
You won’t lie — it was hard. The endless rehearsals, the forced smiles, the pressure to always be perfect. But every exhausting second was worth it.
Because you did it — you’ve landed a contract with Victoria’s Secret
Rehearsals were brutal, but they were also kind of electric. Every day felt like a blur — heels clacking against the floor, hair flying, trainers shouting over music. You barely had time to breathe between runs, but honestly, that chaos was addicting. There was something about seeing everything slowly come together — the lights, the sets, the energy — it made every late night and sore ankle worth it.
One afternoon during a break, someone mentioned that TWICE was performing this year. You looked up from your water bottle, a little surprised. You’d heard their songs before — a few stuck in your head after scrolling through playlists — but you wouldn’t call yourself a die-hard fan or anything. Still, the room filled up with gossip.
“I heard they were performing with us for the Pink division!“ one of the girls said, practically bouncing.
“Girl, i might pass out,” another laughed, fanning herself rather dramatically.
You just smiled, half-listening, half-daydreaming about what your outfit might look like, Pink was your division after all.
A few days before the show, the costume fittings started. That’s when it really hit you. The rows of glittering lingerie, feathers, crystals, and silk — it was like stepping into another world. Stylists buzzed around with measuring tapes and clipboards, making tiny adjustments that somehow made all the difference.
You caught your reflection in the mirror, dressed head to toe in your look — tiny wings draped behind you, heels higher than your confidence could handle — and for a second, you didn’t even recognize yourself. The nervous laughter, the other models hyping each other up, the constant camera flashes in the background... it all blended into a haze.
Performance day crept up faster than anyone expected. The morning was filled with coffee cups, last-minute touch-ups, some unhealthy amounts of hairspray, and a nervous kind of excitement in the air. The backstage monitor played snippets of soundcheck — TWICE rehearsing their set somewhere beyond the curtains — and the realization sank in: this was it.
You were scrolling through your phone, half awake from how early you had woken up, when you turned a corner and nearly collided with someone.
“Oh my god—!” you gasped, stepping back so fast your foot almost slipped on the polished floor.
The person in front of you caught your arm before you could stumble. “Whoa there,” a soft voice said, a little breathless but playful.
When you looked up, your heart nearly dropped to your stomach. (or maybe your ass)
Four girls stood there, fresh off rehearsal — sweat still glistening on their necks, stray hairs stuck to flushed skin.
You’d seen their names on the event list, sure, you knew they were coming, but seeing them in person was another thing entirely.
Momo was the one holding your arm, her grip gentle but firm. “You okay?” she asked, her voice low, her accent curling around every syllable like honey.
You nodded quickly, forcing a laugh. “Yeah, sorry— wasn’t watching where I was going.”
She let go, but her fingers brushed against your sleeve as she did. A simple movement, but enough to leave a tiny rush running through you.
Next to her, Jihyo gave a small smile — calm, collected, that kind of confidence that didn’t need to be loud to be felt. “Don’t worry, we’re the ones blocking the hallway,” she said, voice warm.
“It’s fine, really,” you replied, tucking your phone into your back pocket, suddenly too aware of every awkward thing you could possibly say.
Tzuyu, somehow even taller and delicate in person, bowed her head slightly. “Y/N, is it? You’re in the show with us, right?” she murmured, shy but polite.
Her tone was so soft it almost didn’t sound real, like if it was cutting right through the noise of backstage, you nodded, the room suddenly heating up as you realized they knew about your mere existence.
And then there was Nayeon — who didn’t say anything at first. She was staring, almost dazed, eyes flicking between your face and the faint shimmer of your body glitter spread across your collarbone and cleavage. When you caught her gaze, she instantly smiled, sheepish.
“We’ll see you there then,” she said, voice light and teasing, “you’re really pretty in person.”
You laughed, nervous and surprised. “Pretty? Says the literal goddess lineup in front of me.”
Momo snorted softly at that, exchanging a quick glance with Jihyo. Jihyo’s smile deepened, and for some reason, it made your chest tighten.
“Careful,” Momo said, tilting her head slightly, “keep talking like that and we might start believing you’re flirting.”
Your mouth opened— and then closed. “Maybe I am,” you joked back before your brain could stop you, the words tumbling out half-sincere.
The small group went quiet for a heartbeat. Then Nayeon giggled, bright and airy, while Tzuyu smiled behind her hand. Even Jihyo gave a soft laugh, though her eyes never left yours.
“Bold,” Jihyo said, clearly amused. “You’ll fit right in with this crowd.”
You tried to play it off, shrugging like your face wasn’t burning. “Gotta keep up somehow.”
You all talked for a few more minutes — light, casual chatter about the show. They mentioned the sound check, how the floor felt different on stage compared to rehearsal, how the lighting was still being tested. Momo stretched mid-conversation, hoodie riding up slightly, and you swore your brain short-circuited for a second.
They were so effortlessly alluring up close — not the polished perfection of a screen, but something raw, more human. You caught little details: Jihyo’s steady focus when she listened, Tzuyu’s small nervous smile, Nayeon’s soft laugh that lingered a bit too long, and Momo’s quiet confidence — the way her eyes found yours every few seconds, like she was trying to figure you out.
And maybe she was.
You stood there trying not to crumble under the weight of it all — four beautiful, intimidating women just existing in front of you like it was nothing. You felt like a small cat that somehow wandered into a den of lionesses — graceful, powerful, and impossibly gorgeous.
A voice suddenly cut through the haze from down the hall.
“Y/N! Outfit and makeup try-on, let’s go!”
You blinked, realizing you’d been staring too long. “Ah— right, yeah.”
You smiled at them, trying to sound composed even though your pulse hadn’t settled since Momo touched your arm. “Guess that’s me. It was… really nice meeting you guys.”
“Likewise,” Jihyo said softly.
“Good luck on your walk, we’ll see you on stage.” Momo added, her tone light but her gaze steady.
“Thanks,” you said, and then immediately ruined your cool by nearly tripping over your own feet when you turned around. You heard a couple quiet laughs behind you — Nayeon’s definitely among them — and you couldn’t help but grin.
You didn’t look back, but you could feel their eyes following you as you walked away, heart pounding like it was trying to break out of your chest.
—
The energy backstage was chaos — good chaos.
Glitter, perfume, camera flashes, last-minute touch-ups, and the smell of an unhealthy amount of hairspray clinging to everything. Stylists swarming around like bees, tugging at straps, fixing curls, whispering things like “you’ve got this” and “remember, smile with your eyes.”
You were in the Pink Division, which meant one thing — TWICE’s stage. The most talked-about set of the entire show. The second the intro beat echoed through the walls, everyone seemed to straighten up, hearts syncing to the rhythm.
You checked your reflection one last time — baby wings shimmering, gloss perfect, heels tight — and exhaled. You weren’t nervous anymore. Just alive.
“Go time!” someone shouted, and the curtain pulled back.
The lights hit you instantly.
A wave of pink and gold washed over the runway, and the crowd roared. You walked out, the beat pulsing through your body like second nature, each step landing in sync with the music. You didn’t think — you became the walk, the rhythm, the fantasy.
TWICE stood on the elevated stage, performing behind you, the melody wrapping around the room. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Momo first — her gaze following you with a faint smirk tugging at her lips, subtle but unmistakable. Then Jihyo — radiant, confident, but her focus shifted mid-verse, locking right on you as you passed. You tried to stay composed, to keep that confident, sultry look, but your heart skipped so hard it almost threw off your pace.
Still, you didn’t falter. You owned it. Every step, every little smile, every glance toward the cameras. The crowd loved it, you could feel it in the air — that collective awe, that hush before the applause.
By the finale, all the models gathered at the front of the stage as TWICE hit their last chorus. The lights dimmed into a soft rose hue, glitter and confetti raining from above, and stagehands hurriedly guided everyone into position for the group pose.
“Y/N, next to Jihyo please!”
You blinked — of course. Out of everyone, her. You moved into place, careful not to trip on the confetti-littered floor. She gave you a quick glance and a soft smile that was pure professionalism… until her hand brushed your waist.
You froze — just for a second. Her touch was light, almost accidental, but it lingered just long enough to make your pulse jump. Then she rested her hand there, casual, perfect for the cameras, posing with a grin that could melt through spotlights.
You tried to mirror it — a practiced, confident smirk — but you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. The flashes went off in a blink of an eye, cheers echoing through the venue. When the lights dimmed again, she removed her hand gently, giving you the faintest nod before turning to wave at the crowd.
As the music faded and everyone began clearing the stage, Karol G’s sultry voice started echoing from the speakers, marking the next line’s entrance. You slipped backstage, still running with adrenaline, glitter clinging to your skin like static.
You sat down for a second, phone in hand, curiosity getting the better of you. Notifications were flooding in — mentions, tags, edits. Your name was trending.
“The new Angel stole the show.”
“Y/N’s walk was unreal.”
“She’s a rookie?? No way.”
And then came the fandom tweets.
ONCEs were already being menaces.
“Why did Jihyo look directly at her while singing ‘Winning is my trademark,‘ part???? HELLOOOOO???”
“Momo wants her so bad I can’t breathe.”
“Nayeon, my GOD be respectful💔”
“She walked like she owned them.”
“Tzuyu blushing in the back I see you girl.”
You covered your mouth, half laughing, half horrified, scrolling through the edits people made minutes after the show ended — zoom-ins, slow-mos, screenshots of Jihyo’s hand on your waist.
You locked your phone and leaned back, still catching your breath, the faint bass of Karol G’s performance thrumming through the walls. You didn’t know if it was adrenaline or something else, but your heart hadn’t calmed down since Jihyo’s touch.
And judging by the internet’s reaction, maybe you weren’t the only one who noticed.
The dressing room was quieter than before — just the hum of conversation down the hall, muffled pop music from another stage, and the soft buzz of your phone lighting up with new notifications. You were still scrolling through all the edits and clips when a knock sounded at your door.
“Come in!” you called, expecting a stylist or assistant until Jihyo and Momo stepped in.
They looked unfairly good up close — still in their performance looks, cheeks flushed, hair a little messy from dancing. You froze for a beat, not expecting them to be standing there, looking like that, which didn’t help your heart rate one bit.
“Wow,” Jihyo said first, closing the door behind them. “That was one hell of a debut, Y/N.”
You blinked. “Oh— thank you. You guys were incredible too, seriously. That crowd was—”
“Loud? Obsessed? Screaming your name halfway through our set?” Momo interrupted, grinning as she dropped onto the couch beside you.
You laughed awkwardly. “I think they were screaming your names.”
Jihyo sat down too, on your other side, close enough that your shoulder brushed hers. The perfume she wore was soft and expensive — something warm, a little floral, a little too distracting. “Mmm, maybe,” she said, smiling knowingly. “But I’m pretty sure we heard a few people lose their minds when you walked by.”
You smiled, suddenly hyperaware of how close she was. “Guess the training paid off.”
Momo leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, her eyes flicking up and down, not in a way that felt creepy — just… observant. Playful. “You really owned that runway. Confident, beautiful. You didn’t even flinch under the lights.”
You smiled shyly. “Had to make it look easy.”
“Well you did so good,” Jihyo said, resting her chin on her hand. “You made it hard to look anywhere else.”
Your brain stuttered. “I— uh, thank you?”
She laughed softly, like she knew exactly what she was doing. You cleared your throat, trying to sound casual. “Shouldn’t you guys be with your members right now?”
Jihyo tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “Oh, they know we’re with you, babe. They can wait.” Your jaw went slack for a second before you caught yourself. “Babe?”
“What?” she teased, grinning wide. “You don’t like nicknames?” Momo nudged you lightly, her voice low but playful. “You’re blushing already.”
“I’m not!” you protested, even though you definitely were.
Momo nudged you lightly again, this time with her knee. “You should’ve seen yourself out there,” she said. “We were all watching from the stage. I think even Nayeon forgot her line for a second.”
You let out a nervous laugh. “You’re kidding.”
“She’s not,” Jihyo said. “You really stood out.”
You smiled, a little bashful but proud. “Well, you guys killed it too. The performance was insane — the choreography, the vocals, everything. You made it look effortless.” Momo smirked. “Effortless, huh? You think we look good when we sweat for hours?”
You groaned softly, burying your face in your hands. “Please don’t twist my words.”
“Oh?” Jihyo said, raising an eyebrow. Your mouth opened, then closed. “That’s not what I— I just meant you’re all really talented!”
They both laughed, and your embarrassment only deepened, warmth blooming up your neck. Momo leaned a little closer, voice soft but teasing. “Relax, we’re just messing with you. You’re cute when you get all flustered. You really don’t take compliments well, do you?”
“I do! Just— not when they come from, you know…” you trailed off, motioning vaguely at both of them. “From us?” Jihyo said, her voice lilting with humor.
You swallowed hard. “When they come from pretty girls…” You tried to hide your face with your hands, but Jihyo gently tugged one away, smiling. “Hey, don’t. It’s endearing.”
Your heartbeat was so loud you were sure they could hear it.
Jihyo tilted her head, smiling as she looked you over, breath fanning over your ear “You’re cute when you get shy, yknow?” her voice turned low, husky— hands somehow finding the tiny hairs at the nape of your neck and twirling at them, you squirmed as a shiver ran down your spine, an embarassing heat pooling inbetween your thighs.
Jihyo didn’t move her hand right away. If anything, her thumb traced a lazy line down to your shoulder, like she was testing how far she could push it before you’d stop her. You didn’t. You couldn’t.
Momo caught it immediately, her grin turning into something quieter, sharper. “You’re making her nervous,” she said, though her tone didn’t sound like she wanted Jihyo to stop.
“Am I?” Jihyo murmured, her voice dipping, the kind that didn’t need to rise above a whisper to make your stomach twist.
You exhaled, barely a laugh. “A little.”
“Good,” she said simply, smiling like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Momo leaned in from your other side, her arm pressing lightly against yours. “Don’t tease her too much,” she said to Jihyo, though the mischievous glint in her eyes betrayed her. “You’ll scare the poor thing off.”
Jihyo’s eyes didn’t leave yours. “She doesn’t look scared to me, she seems like she likes it.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing coherent came out—just a shaky laugh that only made them smile wider.
Jihyo leaned in closer, her breath brushing just behind your ear as she spoke, voice quiet enough that it made the moment feel secret. “You’re still shaking,” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Your words caught somewhere in your throat. “I’m not—”
“You are,” she whispered, amusement softening her tone. Her hand found the side of your neck, just resting there — steady, grounding, but still enough to send a shiver through you. The warmth of her palm against your skin made it impossible to think straight. Before you could respond, her lips pressed lightly to your neck, a quick, bold kiss that made your heart jump. You froze, cheeks burning, caught somewhere between shock and arousal.
Momo laughed softly from your other side, fingertips brushing a stray hair from your face. “She’s just shy,” she said, voice light, teasing. “You’re scaring her a little, Ji.”
Jihyo hummed like she was considering that, but didn’t move away, lips pressing a soft wet trail of kisses on your neck and behind your ear. “Then maybe she should tell me to stop.”
You didn’t.
You sat perfectly still, eyes wide, trying not to give away how flustered you were. Momo’s hand lingered on your cheek for a second longer than necessary, her thumb tracing absent little circles against your skin.
“See?” she said quietly, smiling. “She doesn’t want you to.”
Jihyo’s laugh was soft, a low hum that seemed to vibrate through the space between you. “Didn’t think so.”
Your pulse was racing now, the quiet of the room somehow louder than anything outside. You could feel both of them there — close enough that every breath felt like it belonged to all three of you.
Jihyo’s lips pressed lightly against your neck again, leaving a sloppy open mouthed kiss that made your knees go weak. You froze, cheeks burning, unable to form words.
Before you could even react, Momo leaned in from the other side, her lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss just at the corner of your mouth. You felt trapped in the best and worst way possible—two of them, so close, warm, teasing, and impossible to ignore.
Jihyo’s soft laugh tickled your ear. “Look at you, baby” she murmured, voice low, husky, amused. “So needy already.”
Momo grinned against your lips, pulling back just slightly to let you breathe, though her hand lingered gently against your cheek. “So fucking adorable like this,” she whispered, eyes sparkling with mischief.
You tried to speak, but all that came out was a shaky, throaty whine you didn’t even know you were holding
Jihyo pressed closer again, her shoulder brushing yours. “Mm? what was that, baby?” she said, voice a soft command that made your pulse skip. “Was that pretty noise for us, darling?.”
You couldn’t think. All you could feel was the warmth, the closeness, the unrelenting tension that made your chest tight and your mind spin. Jihyo finally reached up to grope your chest, her thumb teasing the clothed skin on your chest, her kisses turning messier. Momo’s eagerness taking over and capturing your lips in a messy kiss you were quick to reciprocate, her teeth tugging at your bottom lip before releasing it with a soft plop that made a needy whimper leave your lips.
“Gosh, i bet you’re so wet already…” Jihyo smirked agaisnt your skin, you weren’t saying anything, but she knew—she knew by the way you subconsciously inched towards them, how your skin grew hotter with every nip at your flush skin, how you swallowed hard; trying to hold back every groan, every whine, trying to hold back that facade that you didn’t want the both of them to ruin you in that exact second.
She knew you were gonna crack soon.
Her hand inched down your thigh, and you spread them almost immediately, a low chuckle leaving Jihyo’s throat before she nipped at your earlobe with her teeth, “So fucking easy.”
Jihyo’s fingers reached down further and played around with your clothed center, fingers tracing up and down your slit — feeling the warmth, the humidity, every little twitch and clench from your cunt. Momo was quick to slide her hands up your torso, hands going to grope and knead your breasts, thumb rolling on your concealed nipple, feeling it harden underneath the thin fabric.
Every little touch was like a jolt of electricity surging through you, and when Jihyo dipped her fingers slightly down ur waistband, you felt like you could explode. “Can i take it off, Pretty?” she asked, toying with the band of your shorts, smirk cruel and teasing. Momo groaned as she bit down gently on your shoulder “Just shut up and take it off her already.” she squeezed slightly harder on your chest, almost as if they helped take out the pent up frustration. “Patient Momoring,” she sighed out before slowly slipping the shorts off you.
“Damn pretty girl..” she bit her lip and looked up with a smile “You’re fucking soaked, Y/N.. who knew we could make you like this.” she traced circles on your inner thigh, feeling them tense up. Momo giggled, slowly undoing the buttons to your silk victoria secret robe, her touch gentle as she felt your breath get heavier and heavier—
You were now in a tank top and underwear, a wet patch slowly leaking out and staining your lingerie, Jihyo collected the slick with her fingers before bringing them to Momo’s lips, leaving you pressed between them; Jihyo biting her lip as she left Momo’s warm saliva and tongue running along her pointer and middle finger.
She pulled off with a pop before pushing off the couch and onto the knees on the floor, you panicked and reached for a pillow, pushing it aside so she could cushion her knees. “Aw, so considerate, baby.” she giggled as she tugged at your underwear, groaning at the smell of your musk, your clit swollen and slightly leaking out of your folds. She pressed a kiss to your thigh.
Momo shifted and pressed herself behind you, positioning you between her legs, she reached down, her finger brushing your clitoris lightly, you yelped and jolted forward and she practically smacked your mouth. “Needy fucking girl can’t keep her mouth shut huh?” she rolled her eyes, rubbing your clit in figure eights, adding pressure into it.
Jihyo sat back and groaned at the sight, and as much as she wanted to savor the moment infront of her, she wanted to ruin you too. She leaned forward and spread your folds, the slick parting in strings as she eyed your clenching hole, slowly pushing the tip of her two fingers in, the amount of stimulation making you let out a throaty moan, your voice cracking as Momo pressed down onto your mouth further, muffling more of your noises.
You squirmed, eyes slammed shut and back arched against Momo’s chest as she rubbed you hard, Jihyo thrusting her fingers in an out at the right pace. “Good fucking girl.” Momo growled out, pressing harder and biting down onto your neck, hard, but not hard enough to bruise— she knew your body was your instrument anyways.
Every little touch felt so good, too good, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you hicced into Momo’s hand, walls clenching and squeezing Jihyo’s fingers like a vice, head thrown back as your hands and nails digged into the couch cushing as if it was the only thing holding you together.
Your noises grew louder and the shame only decreased by the second—Momo’s hand could only do so much to muffle your groans, and your saliva was already coating her palm.
“Fuck.” she bit her cheek annoyed as she pulled off, her hands now doing double the work and the hand that was covering your mouth now pushing past Jihyo’s and sliding inside your cunt alongside Jihyo’s, now matching Jihyo’s pace as both of their fingers pumped inside you, Momo’s left hand rubbing harshly on your clit.
You screamed, head thrown back as you tried to push off, it felt like too much—way too much, but fuck.. it felt so good. Tears streamed down your face as you subconsciously spread your legs wider, the climax forming little by little as that pressure in your stomach spread more.
“Gonna cum for us, princess? Our pretty angel is gonna make a mess all over the couch and our fingers.” Jihyo pressed deeper before telling Momo to curl her fingers up, her fingertips toying and pressing into your Gspot, and you came.
Your vision turned white, you felt so light headed as you climaxed, the wave of dopamine rushing over you as your juices poured out everywhere, on Momo’s knuckles, Jihyo’s fingers, and coating the auburn colored cushion. They helped you ride your high, their touch turning gentle as they guided you through your orgasm, “That’s our girl.” Jihyo cooed before slowly pulling out, the sensation earning a tiny groan, Momo doing same.
There was a rather odd silence after before Momo spoke up “Are you uhm… okay..” she looked away, almost as if she didn’t just make sure you weren’t gonna be able to walk for the weekend. You were so spent you could only croak out a tiny grumble, Jihyo helped you get your clothes back on as Momo traced circles on your back, pressing tiny kisses to your nape.
“We have to go now, but don’t think this is a one time thing.” Jihyo replied as she wiped the sweat casually off her forehead, slamming down two phone numbers on the coffee table infront of the couch before walking towards the door, Momo following along before turning around and speaking up,
──── ( 🔥 ) under the dim lights of the studio, where mirrors catch every flaw, momo’s voice becomes both weapon and mirror — each harsh word peeling away the safety of excuses until you’re left trembling, exposed, and still reaching for perfection, because loving the dance means surviving her fire.
𝓟aring. dom!idol!gp hirai momo x sub!trainee!fem reader.
the sterile white light of the studio felt cruel, magnifying the layer of sweat that clung to your skin and the sudden, jarring silence that followed the music’s abrupt cut.
you were supposed to be airborne on the final count of the transition into the chorus. a complex, sharp movement known internally as the ‘switchblade flick.’ but instead of the sharp snap of your head and the controlled weight shift into the lunge, you had faltered. your left foot snagged on the polished floor, your momentum evaporated, and the resulting sight was not a powerhouse idol-in-training, but a clumsy tangle of limbs.
the sound of your heavy breathing filled the massive room, echoing off the mirrored wall that showed you, truthfully and devastatingly, sprawled on the floor.
you didn’t fight the gravity pulling you down. you let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sob of sheer exasperation and collapsed fully, dropping your forehead to the cool, sticky floor. your hands flew up, covering your eyes, desperately trying to block out the harsh reflection of your failure.
again. three hours. you had been drilling this four-second sequence since 1:00 pm, and for the tenth time this hour, you had missed the minute, almost undetectable weight shift required to balance the momentum. it wasn’t a complex move; it was a fundamental one. and you failed it every single time the tempo reached performance speed.
the air in the studio was thick with the scent of recycled air conditioning, old disinfectant, and the sharp, metallic tang of exertion. you could feel the heat radiating off your own body, making the damp clothes cling uncomfortably.
you squeezed your eyes shut. this level of frustration wasn’t just about the move; it was about the crushing weight of expectation, the endless hours, and the sickening realization that maybe, despite all the effort, you just weren’t cutting it. maybe this small, constant error was a sign—a critical flaw in the foundation.
a shadow fell over you, cutting the glare of the ceiling lights.
you knew who it was without looking. the quiet, disciplined presence, the slightly heavy exhale that wasn’t a sigh of exhaustion, but of focused impatience.
momo.
she didn’t immediately speak. she simply dropped her own weight down, not gently, but with the trained, efficient precision of someone whose body understood the physics of the floor. her knees hit the ground beside your hip.
you felt a slight breeze as she shifted, and then the quiet scrape of her microfiber towel being placed near your head.
“y/n,” she said, her voice low, a little husky from coaching and singing along, but perfectly level. it was the sound of a mentor trying very hard to remain professional when faced with a trainee actively dissolving into a puddle of self-pity.
you kept your face hidden. the shame was too intense.
“don’t do that,” she instructed, and though the tone was soft, it carried the undeniable weight of seniority. “you’re pouring effort into hiding your eyes while you should be pouring effort into standing back up.”
when you didn’t move, a cool, firm finger hooked gently under your wrist. it was a gentle tug, but impossible to ignore.
“hands down. look at me. now.”
slowly, reluctantly, you pulled your hands away, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness. momo was kneeling right beside you, her own face flushed pink from the hours of dancing, but otherwise composed. her usually cheerful eyes held a distinct spark of annoyance now, not aimed at you as a person, but at the waste of time this cycle of error and despair represented.
she wasn’t wearing her performance stage makeup, just a thin layer of setting powder, but she still looked impossibly sharp, like a sword polished and ready for battle.
“let’s talk about the mistake,” momo said, leaning in just enough so that you didn’t have to raise your voice to hear her. “no, wait. let’s talk about the reaction to the mistake.”
she took a long sip from her water bottle, the slight gurgle the loudest noise in the studio.
“fourth time since 4:00 pm you have collapsed like you just finished a marathon, when you have done seven seconds of work,” she stated plainly. “do you know what that tells me?”
you swallowed, your throat dry and tight. “that i’m useless.”
momo clicked her tongue, a sound of disapproval. “no. it tells me that you are letting the failure dictate your outcome, instead of letting the music dictate your intention.”
she reached out and placed her palm flat on your upper arm, her touch solid and anchoring. her expression softened, pulling back from the edge of professional frustration into something warmer, sweeter, but still deeply serious.
“y/n, love, this is the most important lesson you will learn here,” she began, dropping her voice another notch. “the ‘switchblade flick.’ we both know you have the talent for that. your execution is fine when the track is slowed to half speed. your body understands the mechanics of the pivot, the timing of the visual snap. you know how to do it in your sleep.”
you closed your eyes again, nodding miserably. “i know, unnie. but when the tempo goes up, when i have to think about the vocal placement right after, the pressure... it just breaks me. i tense up.”
“exactly. the pressure breaks you,” she confirmed. “and why? because you are training for perfection. you are not training for resilience.”
she shifted her weight, settling more comfortably onto her heels. the floor was likely hurting her knees, but she showed no sign of discomfort.
“when i started, i would obsess over these tiny, minor things,” she admitted, bringing her perspective into the conversation—a rare and treasured gift. “i’d spend an hour on one movement of the foot. i thought if i got it 100% perfect in practice, the performance would be perfect, too. but the truth is, the pressure of the stage, the sudden heat, the nervousness—that is going to pull your perfect execution down to 80% every time.”
she paused, making sure you absorbed the gravity of her words.
“you are repeating a small, technical error. a micro-adjustment in your weight distribution. that’s annoying. that needs fixing. but your reaction—the collapse, the hiding—that is a critical, foundational error in your mental approach. that is the thing that will cost you your debut.”
the words, though kind in their delivery, landed like a punch to the stomach. cost you your debut. that was the real stakes.
“unnie, i’m trying,” you whispered, the exhaustion threatening to spill over into tears. “i’ve run the sequence dozens of times. i’m thinking about the pivot, the momentum, the snap. i feel like i am failing the company, failing you, because i can’t get this tiny part of the rhythm right.”
momo reached out and took the towel, gently wiping the heavy sheen of sweat from your forehead and the dark hair plastered to your temples. she was all instinctual care now, the mentor softening the hard truth with physical comfort.
“you are not failing anyone but yourself when you let a single mistake sideline you for ten minutes,” she countered, her voice now a low, intense rumble. “listen to me, y/n. you are making the mistake precisely because you are trying to be perfect. you are tightening your shoulders, you are holding your breath, and you are overthinking the simple shift, waiting for the error to happen, instead of trusting the hundreds of hours of muscle memory we have built.”
she scooted forward slightly, resting her hands on your knees.
“this career—this life—is not about whether you can hit the move when you are fresh and the studio is quiet. it is about whether you can hit the move when you are gasping for air, when your joints ache, when the cameras are staring, and when you have just missed the previous cue. it’s about being flawless under fire. and you can’t get that if you crash and burn every time the fire starts.”
you felt a burning surge of shame and renewed determination. she was right. the technical error was fixable. the mental fragility was the real threat.
“so, what do i do?” you asked, pushing the words out with effort. “i try it again, and if i fail, i fail again. the cycle doesn’t break.”
momo tilted her head, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “you break the goal. you are focused on the finish line of the entire song. we are going to focus on the next millimeter.”
she stood up, pulling you gently with her until you were both standing, though your legs felt wobbly. she walked over to the sound system and rewound the track to the transition before the switchblade flick.
“we are not practicing the choreography now, y/n,” she declared, her eyes serious, almost cold in their focus. “we are practicing your recovery. that is the true measure of an idol. you cannot debut if you are a porcelain doll that shatters at the first tremor.”
you straightened your posture, taking a deep, shaky breath. the cool air entering your lungs felt like a shock.
“the mistake is happening because your internal rhythm is shifting right before the pivot. you are delaying the rotation by a microsecond because you are already anticipating the difficulty. you need to keep the tempo in your core, not in your head.”
momo didn’t offer to dance with you this time. she stood to the side, her arms crossed, monitoring you like a drill sergeant.
“we are going to do this sequence twenty times. not twenty full run-throughs. just the three counts into the flick, and the landing after. twenty times, back-to-back, with no break. i don’t care if you execute the move perfectly. i care about how fast you reset when you fail. if you stumble on attempt five, attempt six begins one second later. no collapse. no hiding. no drama. just instant reset.”
the prospect felt daunting. your muscles were already screaming, but you knew there was no arguing with her. this was the discipline of the highest level, the kind of commitment that separated the stars from the hopefuls. momo wasn’t just drilling a dance; she was forging resilience.
“and if you get frustrated,” she added, her voice dropping into a warning tone, “don’t let me see it on your face. you get frustrated, you push that feeling down, and you express it through the sharpness of your next movement. that is the necessary compartmentalization of this life. you can cry later, when the schedule is clear, or you can use the anger on stage. you never waste the precious seconds of practice time on self-pity.”
you nodded, the severity of her instructions cutting through the haze of your self-doubt.
“gomawo, unnie,” you managed, the respect heavy in your voice.
momo’s face finally softened into a quick, genuine smile—the one that always reminded you she was a human being who cared deeply, not just a precision machine.
“don’t thank me, y/n. thank me when you nail the performance. now, eyes up. shoulders down. breathe. respect the opportunity you have earned and show me you are worth the investment.”
she stepped back towards the soundboard, her hand hovering over the play button.
“music on three.”
you stood center stage, the studio suddenly silent again. your heart hammered against your ribs, but this time, it wasn’t fear; it was adrenaline mixed with acute focus. you could feel the heat beginning to rise again, but you didn’t focus on the discomfort. you focused on the solid ground beneath your feet, and the sharp, bright energy radiating from your mentor.
the truth was, this was precisely why you treasured momo. she never coddled the weaknesses; she targeted the necessary strength. she addressed the small, annoying mistake, but she demanded the fix of the large, career-ending collapse.
boom.
boom.
she pressed the button on the third count. the aggressive, pulsing bass track of the evaluation song filled the room, demanding immediate movement.
you inhaled sharply, focused on the first three counts, forcing your shoulders to relax, forcing the tempo from your core.
one. two. three.
the transition began. your body moved, the muscle memory firing. you approached the “switchblade flick,” the moment of truth. you felt the slight hesitation begin to creep in, the mental block trying to seize your balance.
but this time, instead of tightening, you drove the energy down, trusting the rotation, allowing the momentum to carry you through the pivot. your foot landed slightly heavy, not perfect, but solid. you didn’t fall. you didn’t stop.
momo didn’t praise. she simply hit the stop button, the silence returning instantly.
“again,” she commanded, already hitting rewind. “faster reset this time. your landing was solid, but the recovery was slow. move!”
the music started immediately. you shook off the previous attempt, focusing solely on the next three counts. this was the test. twenty times. no hesitation. no shame. just the endless, grinding work of turning potential into unbreakable execution.
you drove your body forward, the sweat beginning to sting your eyes, the music your only master. the mistake was still there—a wobble on the eleventh attempt—but the collapse wasn’t. the moment your foot faltered, you were already resetting, pushing the error out, and driving into the next count, fueled by the serious, unwavering support of the woman watching you, demanding nothing less than your absolute, resilient best.
the eleventh reset starts wrong.
your right foot lands a fraction too early, the rhythm slipping through your fingers before you even realize it. there’s no spectacular fall this time, no stumble dramatic enough to warrant stopping — just a jarring offness, a tiny fracture in the clean geometry momo demands from you.
but you hear it. she hears it. the music cuts off.
the silence that follows is brutal.
momo’s finger stays on the pause button for a moment too long, her knuckles white, her breathing barely audible above the low hum of the speakers. then she exhales, a sound halfway between disbelief and disappointment.
“what was that.”
it isn’t even a question — more like a verdict delivered before trial.
you swallow, mouth dry. “i—”
“no,” she snaps, voice slicing through the air. “don’t speak yet. think. what just happened?”
the words are calm, but there’s an edge beneath them, a restrained fury that feels sharper than if she’d yelled. she walks toward you slowly, each step measured, the sound of her sneakers against the floor impossibly loud in the suffocating quiet.
your chest tightens. “i lost the timing,” you manage to whisper.
“you lost the timing,” she repeats, mockingly soft, as if turning the phrase over in her mouth like something bitter. “you’ve been doing this move for four hours, and you lost the timing?”
you nod, eyes down.
“look at me.”
you hesitate, and that hesitation costs you. she steps closer, her shadow cutting through the harsh studio light again. “look at me.”
you lift your gaze, and the disappointment in her eyes nearly makes your knees buckle.
“y/n, what are you doing right now?” she asks, voice deceptively gentle.
you blink, unsure. “practicing.”
“no,” she says immediately. “you’re surviving. barely. you’re standing there like the floor is swallowing you, like every beat is a threat. you are not dancing.”
the words hit you one by one, small and sharp, leaving tiny cuts that sting.
momo moves past you, stands where you were just positioned, and mimics the first few counts — precise, effortless, devastatingly clean. even without the music, you can hear the rhythm through her movements. when she stops, she turns back toward you, sweat glinting on her jawline.
“do you see it?” she asks, voice cool. “the difference?”
you can only nod, throat too tight to form sound.
“then why,” she says, eyes narrowing, “do you choose to move like someone who doesn’t want to be here?”
your stomach twists. “i—i do want to be here.”
“then prove it!”
her voice rises suddenly, sharp enough to make you flinch. the echo ricochets off the mirrors, filling every inch of the studio with her anger.
“prove it with your body! prove it with your breath! prove it with something other than empty words every time you mess up!” she shouts, stepping closer until her reflection merges with yours in the mirror. “do you think anyone will remember that you ‘almost got it right’ in practice? do you think an audience cares that you were trying?”
your chest heaves, tears stinging behind your eyes.
“they’ll see the stumble. they’ll see the blank look when you lose the beat. and they’ll see me — me — wondering why i believed you were ready.”
the last sentence tears something open in you. your lip trembles before you can stop it.
momo doesn’t miss it. her eyes flick down, and for a moment, she looks almost sorry — but the softness dies quickly, replaced by that steel edge again.
“don’t cry,” she says flatly. “crying means you’ve already given up.”
you shake your head, but the tears push harder. you can’t stop them; the exhaustion, the pain, the endless pressure all converge into a blur of heat behind your eyes.
“you think this hurts?” momo continues, voice low, unrelenting. “you think this is hard? it isn’t. hard is getting up tomorrow and doing it again. hard is showing up when your legs are shaking and your lungs are on fire and you still have to smile for the camera. this—” she gestures between you “—this is just discipline.”
your breath shudders, and the first tear slips free before you can hide it.
her expression doesn’t change. “don’t look away. you wanted this, remember? you said you’d do anything.”
you nod helplessly, your voice cracking. “i did.”
“then stop acting like a victim,” she snaps. “you failed one move. one. fix it.”
it’s too much — the way her words strip you bare, the way they echo the doubts you’ve been swallowing for months. your throat closes up, the sob you’ve been fighting spilling out before you can stop it.
momo exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “you can’t afford this, y/n,” she mutters, not cruelly now, but with weary frustration. “you can’t fall apart every time someone demands more from you. the world isn’t going to lower its standards to make room for your feelings.”
you wipe your face with the back of your hand, but it only makes it worse — your breathing uneven, chest hitching as the tears keep coming.
for a few seconds, she says nothing. just stands there, watching you. and then, softly but firmly, she says, “you think i don’t know what this feels like?”
you glance up, startled.
“i’ve broken down like this too,” she admits quietly. “i’ve cried until i thought i’d never stand up again. but i learned something you still haven’t — no one’s coming to save you in this room. you save yourself.”
she steps forward again, stopping just in front of you. “you don’t get stronger by being perfect, y/n. you get stronger by failing without fear. by owning it.”
her tone sharpens again. “so go. from the top. show me you can fall apart and still move.”
you’re still shaking, but you nod, trying to steady your breathing. the floor beneath your shoes feels too slick, too heavy, but you force yourself back to position. momo returns to her place by the mirrors, arms crossed.
“music,” she says.
the beat starts again, loud and merciless.
you push through the fog of embarrassment, your tears hot against your cheeks as you move. you miss a count, catch it again, keep going. momo doesn’t stop you this time. her reflection stays rigid, watching every flick of your wrist, every imperfect shift of your feet.
when the song ends, the silence that follows is different — not heavy with anger, but hollow with exhaustion. you’re panting, drenched, your whole body trembling.
momo walks up slowly. for a long moment, she just studies you, her gaze unreadable.
then she says, quietly, “better.”
you look up, startled, your voice raw. “better?”
“not good,” she corrects. “but better. because you didn’t stop.”
the words land somewhere deep inside you, like a small light flickering through the cracks.
she sighs, wiping her forehead with the towel. “do you see what i mean now?”
you nod, still shaking, still crying silently.
“good,” she says, her tone softer but still stern. “because this is what it takes. every idol you admire has cried in a room like this. the only difference between those who make it and those who don’t is that they kept moving while they cried.”
her words stay in the air, echoing faintly even after she turns away to reset the track.
you’re still standing there, raw and trembling, when she adds, almost under her breath, “i push you this hard because i know you can handle it. if i didn’t believe that, i wouldn’t waste my breath.”
you don’t answer. you can’t. all you can do is nod — a small, shaking motion that feels like a promise.
momo glances at you through the mirror. her face is unreadable again, the sharp instructor returned.
“again,” she says.
and even through the blur of tears, you nod once more, stepping back into place.
the music starts.
and you dance — broken, shaking, breath hitching — but still moving.
still fighting.
still proving that somewhere beneath the exhaustion and the failure, you’re still becoming.
the silence stretches like a taut wire. it hums in your chest. momo’s still standing there, one hand on her hip, the other hanging loosely at her side, her knuckles pale from holding herself back. you can tell she’s fighting not to explode. that, somehow, makes it worse.
“again,” she says.
you hesitate — you can’t help it — your throat tightens as you move back into position. her eyes flick toward you, flat and unreadable.
“no. stop.”
you freeze mid-step. she crosses the floor toward you, her sneakers whispering against the polished wood. each footfall feels like a countdown.
“what’s happening?” her tone is low, but the quietness is scarier than when she shouts. “you’ve been off all day. your timing’s a mess, your focus is somewhere else. what’s the excuse this time?”
you shake your head. “i—i don’t have one.”
“then fix it.”
the words hit like a slap. you swallow hard. your chest burns.
“momo, i—”
“no.” she cuts you off instantly. “don’t talk. don’t defend yourself. listen.” she takes one more step closer, close enough that you can feel the steadiness of her breathing, the warmth of it. “every time i tell you what’s wrong, you nod, you say ‘okay,’ and then you do it again. you think that’s enough? you think just trying is going to save you out there?”
her voice doesn’t rise, but it’s sharp, controlled, like a blade pressed against your resolve.
“you’ve got talent. i know that. everyone here knows that. but you’re lazy when it gets hard. you freeze. you look at the floor like it’s going to give you answers. it won’t.”
you can’t stop the tears from stinging your eyes. you blink fast, but she sees it. of course she does. she always does.
“crying?” she asks quietly. “is that what this is now?”
you shake your head again, but it’s no use. she exhales, slow and heavy, disappointment radiating through the air.
“you want to make it?” she asks, voice lower now, like she’s talking to herself. “then you have to stop breaking every time someone tells you you’re wrong.”
you nod, barely. your shoulders tremble.
“look at me.”
you do. it takes everything in you.
“don’t let this get to you,” she says, softer now — not kind, but measured. “channel it. use it. that’s the only way you’ll ever outgrow the version of yourself that keeps falling apart.”
she straightens, stepping back, the authority returning like armor. “again,” she says, curtly.
you take your place. your reflection looks back at you from the mirror — red-eyed, small — but you raise your chin anyway. the music starts again, and her voice cuts through it, steady and unrelenting.
“focus. now.”
and somehow, through the burn in your chest and the ache in your throat, you do.
a wicked glint in her eye as she took in your disheveled state. she knew just how to snap you out of your distracted daze and make you focus solely on her. leaning in close, her breasts brushing against yours, momo purred in your ear. “oh, i’ll make you focus alright, doll. i’ll fuck you so hard, so thoroughly, that the only thing you’lm be able to think about is my cock splitting you open and claiming this tight little cunt as mine.”
to emphasize her point, momo reached down and gripped your hip hard, yanking you flush against her. at the same time, she grabbed your chin with her other hand, forcing you to meet her intense gaze.
“you’ve been neglecting me all day, pretty girl. ignoring my words, my commands. well, i’m going to make you pay attention now, whether you like it or not.” momo voice lowered to a harsh, demanding growl as she ground her hips against yours, letting you feel the thick, hard length of her arousal.
“by the time i’m done with you, angel, the only name you’ll remember is mine. the only thought in this gorgeous head will be of me fucking you senseless. understand?”
momo punctuated her words with a sharp thrust of her hips, rubbing her clothed heat against your hips. her grip on your chin tightened, her fingers digging into the soft flesh as she held you in place, waiting for your response. the air between you crackled with tension and barely restrained lust.
without waiting for your response, momo crashed her lips against yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing any protest or plea for mercy. her tongue invaded your mouth, claiming it just as roughly as she planned to claim your other lips. she licked into you, tasting the lingering sweetness of your climax on your breath.
as she kissed you deeply, momo’s hands roamed your body, groping and squeezing every curve and dip. she tweaked your nipples hard, rolling and pinching the sensitive buds between her fingers. her other hand slid down to palm your ass, kneading the flesh and pulling you harder against her.
breaking the kiss, momo growled in your ear. “honna fuck this perfect ass too later. gonna claim every inch of you as my property.” she punctuated her words with a sharp smack to your ass, the sound echoing obscenely in the room.
then, without any further warning, momo flipped you onto your stomach, pushing your face into the cold wood flor. she pulled your hips up, forcing your ass to jut out and present itself to her hungry gaze. kneeling behind you, momo delivered a hard smack to your ass, watching it jiggle and redden under her palm.
“count,” she commanded, raising her hand to strike your ass again, harder this time. “count every blow, angel. let me hear that sweet voice of yours as i redden this gorgeous ass. you’re mine, and i’m going to make damn sure you never forget it.”
momo grinned wickedly as she watched your ass cheek bounce back into place, the red handprint already blooming on your skin. she delivered another hard smack, then another, each one more forceful than the last as she worked your ass into a deep, throbbing red.
“that’s it, angel. take your punishment like a good girl. you’ve been so distracted, so careless in ignoring my words. well, i’m going to make sure you never forget who you belong to.”
she punctuated her words with a particularly brutal slap, gripping your ass cheek hard enough to leave finger–shaped bruises in your flesh. momo leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear as she growled out her next command.*
“now, i want you on your hands and knees. i want to see that gorgeous ass in the air, ready for me to claim what's mine.”
as you scrambled to comply, momo reached down and unzipped her jeans, freeing her throbbing cock. it sprang forth, long and hard and aching for your touch. she stroked herself slowly, teasingly, as she watched you assume the position she demanded.
“such a good girl, so obedient now. i think you’ve earned a reward.” momo purred, her voice dripping with dark promise. “i’m going to fuck you now, angel. i’m going to split you open on my cock and make you scream my name until it’s the only thing you remember.”
nomo doesn’t even bother to take your clothes off, but instead tears your shorts just enough to expose your needy holes for her gaze. and with that, momo lined herself up with your entrance, the thick head of her cock nudging insistently at your dripping folds. she gripped your hips hard, fingers digging into your bruised flesh as she held you in place.
“beg for it, pretty girl. beg for my cock like the needy little slut you are. tell me how badly you want me to claim this perfect cunt, to fill you up and make you mine.”
momo waited, her body trembling with barely restrained lust, ready to plunge into your welcoming heat at a moment’s notice. she wanted to hear you say it, wanted to hear you admit your desire, your need, your desperate craving for her touch.
momo’s eyes flashed with hunger as she waited for your response, her grip on your hips tightening, fingernails digging into your soft skin hard enough to leave crescent–shaped indents. the thick, rigid length of her cock throbbed against your slick folds, leaking pre–cum that dripped down to coat your inner thighs.
she leaned over you, hair falling forward to curtain your face as she growled in your ear. “come on, angel. i know you want to feel me inside you, stretching you, claiming you. i know this greedy little pussy is aching to be filled, to be used for my pleasure.”
momo punctuated her words with a sharp nip to your earlobe, soothing the sting with a flick of her tongue before she purred. “tell me, pretty girl. tell me how badly you need my cock, how desperate you are to have me split you open and fill you up. give me the words, and i’ll give you what you need.”
she rolled her hips, grinding her thickness along your slit, coating herself in your slick arousal. the sensation made momo groan, her voice low and rough with desire. she needed to hear you beg, needed to know that you were just as consumed by lust as she was.
“i want to hear you scream for it, doll. i want the whole dorm to know who this pussy belongs to, who’s going to ruin you for anyone else. so go ahead, angel. beg me to fuck you, to claim you, to make you mine.”
momo’s voice was a dark, seductive rumble, her breath hot against your ear as she waited for your desperate plea. her cock throbbed against you, the thick shaft pulsing with the need to bury itself deep inside your welcoming heat. she was on the verge of losing control, of slamming forward and impaling you on her throbbing length, but she held back. she wanted to hear you say it, wanted to hear you admit your desire, your hunger for her touch.
momo’s eyes flashed with triumph as you finally gave in to your desires, your need for her overwhelming your previous distraction. she could feel the heat radiating off your skin, could hear the desperation in your voice as you begged her to claim you, to take you, to make you hers.
“that’s my good girl.” momo praised, her voice dripping with dark satisfaction. without warning, she slammed her hips forward, burying her thick cock deep inside your dripping cunt with one hard thrust.
she set a brutal pace from the start, pounding into you with all the pent–up frustration and jealousy she had harbored. each thrust shook the bed, the headboard slamming against the wall as momo fucked you with wild abandon.
“yes, fuck! take my cock, you perfect little slut. this is what you needed, isn’t it? to be split open on my dick, used for my pleasure. i’m going to ruin this cunt, make it mine.”
momo’s hands gripped your hips hard, fingers sinking into your soft flesh as she yanked you back to meet her increasingly forceful thrusts. the room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by momo’s harsh grunts and growls.
“fuck, you’re so tight! so fucking perfect. i knew this pussy would feel incredible wrapped around my cock. i’m going to fucking destroy you, angel. i’m going to fuck you so hard, so deep, that you’ll never forget who this cunt belongs to."
she leaned over you, hair falling forward as she bit and sucked at your neck, marking you, claiming you. one hand slid down to your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in hard, fast circles. the stimulation was almost too intense, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.
“come on, doll. i want to feel this pussy clench around me as you come on my cock. i want to feel you shake and quiver, knowing it's me who made you fall apart. give it to me, pretty girl. come for me, scream my name, let everyone know who you belong to!”
momo’s hips snapped forward relentlessly, her thick cock driving deep into your core with each powerful thrust. she could feel your velvet walls clenching around her, gripping her shaft like a vice as she pounded into you mercilessly.
“that’s it, baby. fucking take it! take every inch of my cock, you perfect little slut. i’m going to fill this pussy up, flood your womb with my seed until it takes. i’m going to breed this cunt, angel. make it mine, ruin it for anyone else.”
she punctuated her words with a particularly brutal thrust, grinding her pelvis against your ass, forcing her cock as deep as it would go. momo could feel your cervix kissing the tip of her shaft, could feel the head of her dick nudging against your battered womb.
momo’s fingers worked your clit harder, rubbing the sensitive bud almost painfully as she felt your body tensing, your muscles pulling taut. she could sense your impending climax, could feel the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around her.
“come on, doll. fucking come for me. i want to feel your cunt spasm on my cock, squeezing the cum out of me. i want to feel you shake and quiver, knowing it’s me who made you fall apart. give it to me, pretty girl. cream on my dick like the desperate slut you are.”
she could feel her own orgasm building, her balls drawing up tight to her body as she neared the edge. but momo held back, determined to make you come first, to watch you shatter from the force of your climax before she let herself go.
her hips never slowed, never faltered, even as she rubbed your clit with wild abandon. she could feel your pussy starting to convulse, your walls beginning to ripple around her throbbing shaft. momo knew you were close, knew that with just a little more stimulation, she could push you over the precipice.
“scream for me, angel. let the whole fucking dorm hear you coming on my cock. let them know who you belong to, who’s ruining this perfect cunt. fucking scream my name, you gorgeous little whore!”
momo could feel your body stiffening, your back arching as your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave. she rubbed your clit harder, faster, pushing you through the intense pleasure that consumed you. at the same time, she slammed her hips forward one last time, burying her cock to the hilt inside your spasming pussy.
“fuck yes, that’s it! come on my cock, angel. milk me dry with this greedy cunt. fucking scream my name, you perfect little slut!”
as your pussy clamped down around her, momo let out a guttural moan, her own orgasm ripping through her. she came hard, her cock pulsing and throbbing as it erupted inside you, flooding your womb with her hot, thick seed. momo’s hips jerked and spasmed, each spurt of cum making her grunt and growl with the intensity of her release.
“take it, doll. take every last fucking drop. i’m going to pump you full, fill this pussy to the brim until it’s dripping out of you. fuck, you feel so good coming on my cock, squeezing me so tight. i knew this cunt was made for me, made to milk my dick dry.”
*momo collapsed against your back, her sweat–slicked skin sticking to yours as she tried to catch her breath. she panted harshly, her heart racing in her chest as she savored the feeling of your pussy still fluttering around her softening shaft. she knew she had marked you, claimed you, made you hers in the most primal way possible.
You've been babysitting the Hirai children for almost six months now, and in that time, you've learned to read the silences in this house. The way Miss Hirai's jaw tightens when her husband stumbles through the door at 3 AM. The practiced smile she wears when he makes excuses about "work dinners" that leave lipstick stains on his collar in shades she'd never wear. The extra hundred dollar bills he slips into your hand with a finger pressed to his lips, bourbon heavy on his breath, purple marks blooming along his throat like poisonous flowers.
Tonight, the house is especially quiet. You'd put the twins down at eight-thirty, read them their favorite story about the brave little rabbit, watched their eyelids grow heavy until they finally surrendered to sleep. That was over five hours ago. No text. No call. Just you and the crackling fireplace and a Netflix series you're not really watching.
The leather couch has molded to your body over countless nights like this—nights where you've become a fixture in their home, more reliable than either parent. You pull the cashmere throw blanket tighter around your shoulders, the kind of luxury you'd never splurge on for yourself, and try to focus on the TV. The actors' mouths move but you can't concentrate on their dialogue.
The click of the lock makes you jump.
She walks in like she's stepping onto a runway, all controlled grace despite the late hour. The black bodycon dress clings to every curve, her fur coat draped over her shoulders like armor. Her heels echo against the marble entryway with each deliberate step—click, click, click—a sound you've learned means she's had a night. Her oversized sunglasses hide her eyes even though it's past 2 AM, and when she slides them off and sets them on the entrance table, you see it immediately. The redness. The exhaustion. The cracks in the porcelain mask she wears so well.
"Oh, Y/N, honey," she says, and her voice carries that soft warmth she reserves for when she's pretending everything is fine.
You sit up straighter, pulling the blanket off. "Miss Hirai, I—"
But she's already reading you, the way she's always been able to. Her smile falters. Her shoulders drop. The façade crumbles like sugar dissolving in rain, and suddenly she looks so much more human than the untouchable woman who signs your paychecks.
She crosses the living room with those clicking heels, each step slower now, tired. When she sinks into the couch beside you, she takes up the space like she owns it—because she does—but there's something vulnerable in how she leans back, closes her eyes for just a moment.
"Could you slip off my heels, love?"
The request catches you off guard. It's intimate in a way that makes your stomach flip, but her tone brooks no argument. Miss Hirai has always been intimidating—beautiful and sharp and commanding—and you've learned it's easier to just do as she asks.
Your hands tremble slightly as you lean down, fingers finding the delicate straps of her designer heels. You work them off gently, first the left, then the right, setting them carefully on the floor beside the couch. Her feet are elegant even in exhaustion, and you try not to think about how personal this feels.
"Good girl."
The words send electricity down your spine. You straighten up quickly, heat flooding your cheeks, but she's already moving on, her walls coming down in a flood.
"He wasn't there tonight. Again." Her voice is flat, matter-of-fact, but there's an ocean of hurt underneath. "Some charity gala we were both supposed to attend. I walked in alone, smiled for the cameras alone, made excuses for him alone. Do you know what they whisper? That I can't keep my husband interested. That I'm too focused on my career. That I'm cold."
You open your mouth to protest but she continues, the words spilling out like she's been holding them back for months.
"The money—God, the money. Do you know he lost fifteen thousand last week? Poker game with his college buddies. Just gone. And the drinking..." She laughs, but it's hollow. "I find bottles hidden everywhere. In the garage, behind the books in his study, in the goddamn Christmas decorations."
Her hand finds your knee and you freeze. It's warm through your jeans, her touch light but present, her thumb moving in small, soothing circles like she's comforting herself through comforting you.
"The twins ask for him every night," she whispers, and now her voice finally cracks. "They're at that age where they need their father. Where they're learning what a man should be. And he's teaching them that men disappear. That men choose bottles over bedtime stories. That men—"
"You don't deserve that," you blurt out, unable to stay quiet anymore. "Miss Hirai, you're incredible. You're there for them every day. You're strong and brilliant and—"
"Stop." But she's looking at you now, really looking, and something in her expression has shifted. Her eyes are darker, heavy-lidded. "You're sweet. Too sweet."
Her hand slides higher on your thigh, just slightly, and your breath catches.
"I really need to just... release all this stress," The words drip with something that makes your heart pound against your ribs. She leans closer, close enough that you can smell her perfume—something expensive and intoxicating. "I need someone to take all this anger out on, you know?"
"Miss Hirai..." Your voice comes out strangled.
She's moving now, shifting her position, practically crawling toward you on the couch. Her hair falls around her face like a curtain, and she's so close you can see the flecks of gold in her dark eyes, can feel her breath against your lips.
"Please, Y/N." It's barely a whisper, desperate and hungry. "We don't have to talk about this after. You're just too cute. I need you."
And then her mouth is on yours.
It's not gentle. It's not the soft, tentative kiss of someone unsure. It's consuming, demanding, her lips moving against yours with months of frustration and loneliness and rage channeled into the kiss. Her hand tangles in your hair, pulling you closer, and you can taste wine on her tongue when she deepens it. Your hands find her waist instinctively, feeling the silk of her dress beneath your palms, and she makes a sound low in her throat that sends heat pooling through your body.
She kisses like she's trying to forget, like she's trying to erase every slight and disappointment and lonely night. Her teeth catch your bottom lip and you gasp, which only makes her more insistent. She shifts her weight, pressing you back into the couch cushions, her body covering yours, and everything is heat and want and the smell of her perfume and the crackling of the fireplace.
Her hands are everywhere, sliding under your shirt to cup your breasts, and you arch into her touch, head falling back as she trails her lips down your throat. Everything is sensation, overwhelming and electric, and you can feel every place where her body presses against yours.
"You have no idea," she breathes against your skin, "how long I've wanted this."
And in this moment, with the house quiet and the children sleeping upstairs and the fire casting dancing shadows on the walls, you let yourself get lost in her.
Her touch becomes more aggressive, more desperate. You can feel the anger in every movement, the frustration she's been holding back for months. Her hands grip tighter, more possessive, as she kisses along your jaw.
"He doesn't see me anymore," she murmurs between kisses, her voice raw. "Doesn't touch me. Doesn't look at me the way you do." Her lips find that sensitive spot below your ear and you shudder. "But you—you see everything, don't you?"
Her thigh presses between your legs and into your cunt, the pressure makes your breath hitch audibly. She notices—of course she notices—and does it again, more deliberately this time, watching your face with dark, hungry eyes.
"So responsive," she whispers, almost reverent. "So perfect."
Your hands don't know where to go, hovering uncertainly until she guides them to her waist, then higher. "Touch me," she commands softly. "Don't be shy now."
She kisses down your neck, your collarbone, each one punctuated with words that spill out like confessions. "You're so responsible—" kiss "—so good with my children—" kiss "—they adore you—" Her teeth graze your skin. "You've taught them more in six months than he has in their entire lives."
Her mouth moves lower and you're trembling now, your breath coming in short gasps. She looks up at you through her lashes, hair falling across her face.
"You're gorgeous," she breathes. "Do you know that? So sweet. So innocent-looking. It makes me want to devour you."
Then her teeth sink into the flesh of your collarbone—not gentle, but claiming—and a sound tears from your throat that you didn't know you could make. Loud. Desperate. Needy.
"Fuck yes," she groans against your skin, and you feel her smile. "That's what I needed to hear."
Her fingers find the hem of your shirt, and she pulls back just enough to look at you, asking permission with her eyes even as her hands are already moving. You nod—barely, shakily—and she pulls the fabric over your head in one fluid motion.
"Beautiful," she murmurs, taking you in. Her hands map every inch of newly exposed skin, reverent but possessive. "All mine tonight."
She kisses you again, harder now, all tongue and teeth and desperation. Her hands work at your pants, sliding them down your ankles, and you lift your hips to help her. The cool air hits your skin but she's there immediately, her warmth covering you, skin against skin.
"I'm going to fuck you good," she whispers against your lips, "until you forget your own name."
She moves down your body with purpose, her lips leaving a trail of heat across your abdomen. Every kiss is deliberate, claiming, marking you as hers for this moment. When she reaches your cunt, she looks up at you one more time, eyes dark with want.
"Watch me," she commands softly.
And then her mouth is on your pussy, and your entire world narrows to that single point of contact. Your back arches off the couch, a broken sound escaping your lips that echoes in the quiet house. Your hands fly to her hair, tangling in the dark strands, not sure if you're trying to pull her closer or push her away from the overwhelming sensation.
"Miss Hirai—" you gasp out, barely coherent.
"Momo," she corrects between licks, her voice muffled. "Say my name."
"M-Momo—" It comes out as a whimper, and you feel her hum in approval, the vibration sending shockwaves through you.
She's relentless, her tongue working you with practiced skill, and you're falling apart beneath her. Your thighs tremble on either side of her head, and she has to hold your hips down to keep you still as you squirm.
"So sensitive," she murmurs, pulling back just enough to speak, her breath hot against your pussy. "So perfect for me. Do you know how many nights I've thought about this? Watching you in my home, so sweet with my children, so fucking beautiful I could barely stand it?"
She doesn't wait for an answer before her mouth returns to your pussy, more intense now, and you cry out louder than you should with children sleeping upstairs. But you can't help it—she's destroying you in the best way possible.
"That's it," she encourages, her fingers joining her mouth, sliding inside. "Let me hear you. Let me hear what I do to you."
Your head falls back against the couch cushion, eyes squeezed shut, lost in the sensation. She adds another finger and you nearly sob, pleasure building so intensely you think you might shatter.
"You're doing so good for me," she praises, her free hand reaching up to rub your clit. "Such a good girl. So wet for me. So ready."
The combination is too much—her fingers, her mouth, her words. Your body is strung tight like a violin string, every nerve ending on fire. Your breathing is ragged, desperate little gasps and moans that you can't control.
"Momo, I—I can't—" You don't even know what you're trying to say. It's too much, too intense, too good.
"Yes, you can," she says firmly, her pace increasing. "I want to feel you cum for me. Want to taste you. Come on, baby, let go."
Her fingers find that perfect spot inside you, curling just right while her mouth works your clit, and suddenly you're there—teetering on the edge of something explosive.
"That's it," she coaxes, feeling you tighten around her digits. "Give it to me."
And you do. You shatter completely, crying out her name as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body convulses, thighs clamping around her head, hands fisted in her hair as she works you through it, drawing it out until you're oversensitive and trembling, trying to push her away.
She finally relents, pressing gentle kisses to your inner thighs as you come down, your chest heaving, your whole body feeling like liquid. When she crawls back up your body, her lips are glistening, her smile satisfied and possessive.
"Beautiful," she whispers, kissing you deeply so you can taste yourself on her tongue. "You're absolutely beautiful when you cum."
You can barely form words, still floating in the aftermath, but she's not done with you yet. Her hand slides down your body again, fingers teasing, and you whimper at the sensitivity.
"Too much?" she asks, but there's a wicked glint in her eye.
"I don't—I can't—" you stammer, but your body betrays you, hips lifting toward her touch.
"I think you can," she purrs, pointer and middle finger circling your clit again. "I think you can give me another one. Can't you, sweet girl?"
Your body is still trembling from the first, oversensitive and raw, but her touch is patient now, coaxing rather than demanding. She watches your face carefully, reading every expression, adjusting her movements to what makes you gasp and arch.
"That's it," she murmurs. "Just relax for me."
Your hands reach up, fumbling with the thin straps of her dress, wanting—needing—to feel more of her. She helps you, shrugging the expensive fabric down, and suddenly she's bare before you, the dress pooling at her waist.
Without thinking, driven by instinct and desire, you lean forward and take her nipple into your mouth. She gasps sharply, her hand flying to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.
"Oh, fuck.. wait," she breathes. "God, yes, just like that, baby."
You can feel her nipple harden against your tongue as you lavish on her tit, your hands coming up to cup her other breasts. You feel something warm drip into your mouth; you knew, she knew. Even as she tried hiding it from the whole world—that man had gotten her pregnant again. Yet the feeling of her warm liquid pouring into your mouth made you forget that man ever touched her. She's soft and warm and perfect, and the sounds she makes above you are intoxicating.
"Such a good girl for mommy," she whispers, and the word sends a shiver through both of you. "Taking care of me so well, drinking my fucking milk so good..."
Her fingers continue their work between your legs, building that tension again despite your sensitivity. The dual sensation—pleasuring her while she pleasures you—creates a feedback loop of arousal that has you moaning against her tits.
"You're doing so good," she praises, her voice breathy now. "So perfect. My perfect girl. Look how well you moan for me."
You switch to her other breast , giving it the same attention, the same amount of suction that draws more liquid, and she rewards you by adding another finger inside you, stretching you, filling you. The slight burn mixed with pleasure makes your eyes roll back.
"That's my girl," she coos. "Taking everything I give you. So eager. So responsive. Do you know how incredible you are?"
The praise washes over you like honey, sweet and warm, making you want to be even better for her. You suck harder, your tongue flicking her nipple, and she moans your name like a prayer.
"I'm going to make you cum again," she promises, her thumb pressing firmly against your clit while her fingers work inside you. "Want to feel you fall apart for mommy one more time. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?"
You can only whimper in response, your mouth still occupied, but your body answers for you—tightening around her fingers, hips rocking to meet her movements.
"So close already," she observes with satisfaction. "My sweet, sensitive girl. You're going to cum so pretty for me, aren't you?"
The combination of her words, her touch, the taste of her milk on your tongue—it's all building again, faster this time. Your body knows what's coming and races toward it eagerly despite the oversensitivity.
"That's it, baby. Give it to me. Show mommy how good I make you feel."
Her fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot, and her thumb circles your clit with just the right pressure. Your mouth releases her nipple with a pop as you cry out, unable to focus on anything except the pleasure crashing through you for the second time.
"Beautiful," she breathes, working you through it. "So fucking beautiful. My perfect girl."
You collapse back against the couch, completely spent, trembling and gasping. She withdraws her fingers gently and brings them to her lips, maintaining eye contact as she tastes you.
"Delicious," she purrs, then leans down to kiss you deeply, letting you taste yourself on her tongue once more.
—
The intensity fades slowly, replaced by something softer. Momo's touches become gentle, soothing, as she pulls you into her arms. She peppers your face with tender kisses—your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose—each one a quiet reassurance.
"You did so well," she murmurs, stroking your hair. "So perfect for me."
She reaches for the throw blanket that had fallen to the floor, wrapping it around your trembling body before pulling you close. Her fingers trace lazy patterns on your shoulder, her other hand cradling your face as she kisses you again, slower this time, sweeter.
"Are you okay?" she asks softly, genuinely concerned. "Was I too rough?"
You shake your head, unable to form words yet, and she smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple.
"Let's get you dressed, sweetheart," she says after a few moments of peaceful silence.
She helps you sit up, your legs still shaky, and retrieves your scattered clothing. With tender care, she helps you back into your bra, fastening it for you, then guides your arms through your shirt and pulls it over your head. Each motion is accompanied by soft touches and gentle kisses—the back of your neck, your shoulder, your wrist.
"Such a beautiful girl," she whispers, smoothing down your shirt. "My beautiful girl."
She's just reaching for your pants when the sound of a car door slamming outside makes her freeze.
The color drains from her face. "Shit," she breathes.
Suddenly everything shifts. The gentle intimacy evaporates as panic sets in. She moves quickly, helping you into your pants with practiced efficiency, her hands no longer lingering but purposeful. You can hear the stumbling footsteps on the walkway, the jingling of keys, slurred cursing.
"Here," she says, pressing something into your palm. You look down to see five crisp hundred-dollar bills. Your stomach twists.
She's already adjusting herself, pulling the straps of her dress back into place, smoothing the fabric over her hips, running her fingers through her tousled hair. In seconds, she looks almost presentable—almost like nothing happened.
The key scrapes in the lock.
Momo leans in close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, her breath warm against your skin. "We don't have to talk about this anymore," she whispers, and you can't tell if it's a promise or a dismissal. Then, softer, more intimate: "But if you miss it... don't be afraid to call me, baby."
She presses a kiss just behind your ear and you shiver, your legs still weak, your whole body trembling from exertion and the sudden shift in atmosphere.
The door swings open with a bang.
Mr. Hirai stumbles inside, his expensive suit rumpled, tie hanging loose around his neck. He's mumbling incoherently, something about poker and someone named Rick being a cheating bastard. He doesn't even look up, doesn't notice you trying to stand on shaking legs, doesn't see his wife's swollen lips or the guilt and defiance warring in her expression.
He makes it exactly three steps before his knees buckle. He crumples to the marble floor with a heavy thud, passed out cold barely a foot from the doorway.
Momo stares down at him, her expression unreadable. For a long moment, neither of you moves. The only sound is his labored breathing and the crackling of the dying fire.
Finally, she looks at you. There's something complicated in her eyes—satisfaction, sadness, resignation, desire. All of it mixed together into something you can't quite name.
"You should go," she says quietly. "It's late."
You nod, grabbing your bag with trembling hands, the hundred-dollar bills still clutched in your palm. As you step carefully over her unconscious husband, Momo catches your wrist one last time.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For everything."
You're not sure if she means tonight or the months of childcare or the stress relief or all of it combined. You don't ask. You just nod and slip out into the cold night air, the door clicking shut behind you.
As you walk to your car on unsteady legs, you can still feel her hands on your skin, still taste her on your lips, still hear her calling you her good girl. The bills are heavy in your pocket. Heavier than they should be.
You sit in your car for a long moment before starting the engine, staring at the Hirai house with its warm lights and perfect facade, knowing that everything has changed. Knowing that when you come back to babysit on Thursday, you'll both pretend this never happened.
Unless you call her first.
Your phone sits on the passenger seat, her contact information saved under "Miss Hirai - Work."
You drive home in silence, your body still humming with the memory of her touch, your mind already wondering if you'll have the courage—or the recklessness—to reach out.
The night swallows you whole, and behind you, the Hirai house stands perfect and still, keeping its secrets like it always has.
I have seen you twice in Victoria's Secret??? 🤭 omgh Momo or Jihyo I can't choose between them riding her strap while we suck her nipples!!
-🐰🍀
riding jihyo while sucking on her boobs..
warnings: porn w no plot, lazy smut, boob sucking, strap-on usage, and riding, my first twice thingy ever lowk
— jihyo’s barely sitting up, tank top tucked down just enough to reveal her heaving chest as she stares you up and down, hands firm on your stammering hips grinding against her strap-on so desperately.
you whined needly, leaning in instinctively to bury your face in her boobs and she merely chuckles in disbelief. “you’re greedy, aren’t you?” she tuts.
and you barely responded, body jerking forward, the fact you were so filled up now wasn’t your focus but her boobs now right in your face and you couldn’t resist!
her hands reached to entangle in your messy hair, encouraging you to go forward. “c’mon.. baby, suck them.”
you nodded frantically, mouth salivating and you leaned in, sucking on her hardening nipples as she moans, satisfied and throwing her head back.
barely, you absentmindedly bounced lightly on the strap-on and whined against her skin, making her shudder.
“fuck.. god..” jihyo gasped, back arching and nails digging in your nails.
— you blushed, shoving your face further in her chest and she smirked crookedly. “keep riding me, fuck—enough,” and you pouted but sat up.
holding onto her shoulders desperately, your eyes fluttered closed and rocks your hips back and forth on her fake cock and jihyo helps you go up and down on her.
“like that, mhm?” jihyo cooed, massaging your ass soothingly.
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