It's raining again. Not a light drizzle, but a steady, torrential downpour, and there's one person to blame—you know this. The fact that you're having to get up from your comfy chair, put your mug down on the table and walk the several paces over to the front door because she, once again, is at it.
You find it surprising how whenever it rains, the moment that thunder echoes across the city, there's an almost frantic knock that follows. And of course, once you finally open it, the culprit is right there on the other side.
Ning Yizhuo. Your annoying, meddling, definitely too-involved, overly-attached-and-obsessed, whatever the fuck you wanna call the relationship you share with the girl. You'd call her an ex, but you never officially ended anything. Even with an ocean between the two of you, she'd still find a way, at some point or another, to show up at the doorstep in the middle of the night,
So you sigh at her presence—yet, not because you hate seeing her. No, quite the opposite. It's only out of some kind of spite that you keep her waiting, lingering there outside your house in the rain. Like this is the universe punishing you for past transgressions.
Against your better judgment, you open the door, checking if the doorknob is hot first.
There she stands, looking too attractive in all black, thin stockings, torn somehow, a way too tight skirt hugging her waist. Low cut top, visible through a dark coat, with far too much cleavage to defend against.
And somehow, nothing looks out of place—despite having no other option but to brave the rain to see you.
"Is this your doing, I assume?"
The expression on her face drops from hopeful to annoyance in mere seconds. Ningning rolls her eyes and takes a step forward. You take a step back.
"What, the sky? Please, not even I can control the weather."
"Then why do you always show up whenever there's a storm?"
She pauses, folding her arms. "Call it a coincidence. Now, aren't you gonna invite me inside?"
You hesitate as the storm begins to worsen. Not only the rain but the booming thunder and lightning that chases it, so bad that the entire street lights up. In all honesty, you know that you don't really have another choice. It's not like she'll physically enter the house if you don't allow it, yet she's just insufferable enough to camp in the driveway until the sun comes out.
"Do you even get wet, Ning? You're practically standing in a monsoon out there, and not a spot on you."
"Depends if your pants are still on or not," she fires back, that wicked smile always wide and ready to strike.
You've made worse mistakes than this, you suppose—even though a little voice at the back of your mind urges otherwise.
"Come inside," you say, already regretting the words the moment they leave your lips, gesturing to the open door.
Ningning can't help but smirk. "If things go right tonight, that's what I'll be telling you later, baby."
And just like that, she moves past the doorframe into your place—heading inside like she owns the place.
There's no point in pretending that this isn't an impromptu visit from your not-ex. She kicks her heels off, hanging her coat on the rack beside the door and making you wonder just how many times Ningning has shown up completely dry in the midst of pouring rain.
"So, what did I interrupt that was so important that you took forever to open the door?" Ningning asks, standing around as if she didn't show up uninvited, as if you're expected to drop to your knees just because she's arrived.
"Enjoying the peace, Ning, that's what. It's late," you reply, feeling an incoming headache at having to deal with her. "Maybe if you sent a warning—"
She ignores everything. Stares as you sit back down on the couch, your tea more than a little cold now. "Typical."
You roll your eyes, fighting not to pick an argument while she surveys the place. "Typical what?"
She ignores you again. Somehow unbothered and distant, focused entirely elsewhere—just as if nothing has happened between the two of you. The absolute gall, she has.
"Well, I'm glad you're up at this hour. Even better you're alone."
Now you're the one ignoring her, leaning back down on the couch to finish the last sips of tea, a nagging feeling brewing the pit of your stomach—because there's only ever one reason why she shows up late at night, and it's not to chat over tea.
Much to your chagrin, Ningning looks directly at you, but she moves close—very close, until there's a dangerous look in her eyes while she smiles. "Have you eaten yet?
"A bit, but not really—"
Ningning shakes her head, taunting with a feigned annoyance at your response. "How is it you never have food in this damn house?"
"Don't get hungry often enough, I guess," you say, fighting to keep your eyes off of her outfit.
She nods in response, crossing her arms. "I see. Well then—"
The storm rages on outside the living room window, but your focus is stolen entirely away as Ningning approaches, positioning herself in a spot right in front of your line of sight, as if to distract. Not that it's a hard thing to do. Not when she's wearing a tiny little thing she calls a skirt, stockings that do her legs far too much of a favor, and a top that struggles to contain much of anything.
"Yes, Ning?"
There's a moment that passes by where Ningning stares long enough that you're uncomfortable, long enough to where you feel as if the moment can shatter at any second.
"Look, before I say anything else," she begins, still standing in place as those eyes stay locked on you. "Had to take the train here. Nothing was fucking available. Then a taxi—since you had to live out in bumfuck nowhere. I'm tired, and sore—I'm absolutely starving. Not for food, obviously."
"Obviously," you repeat, hardly in shock with her direct nature. She's hardly ever subtle. "Then take what you need. Don't have to ask twice."
Her lips curl up. "Thanks, sweetie. Knew there was a reason why I liked you."
Without anything further, Ningning is quick—far too quick for your liking while she climbs atop, legs on either side, straddling you—close enough so you can feel the heat on your skin. You sit idly by and soak it all in.
"This'll hurt just a little bit—" she says, before her lips press deep so she can pepper several kisses along the side of your neck. "Just keep still. I'll be quick."
"Don't be."
You don't even register the words that come out of your mouth, not fully, at least. Ningning smirks, running her fingers through your hair, smiling in satisfaction that you've somehow fallen into her trap yet again.
"Darling, I will tear you apart if you let me have my way."
You'd damn near let her.
Ningning's not the type to wait around, tilting her head back so she can bare her glistening fangs, primed and ready to devour you whole in the process. They sink in at the crook of your neck, piercing the skin with ease—almost at the exact same spot you remember from the last time.
Sharp pain shoots through your body in a matter of seconds, as blood flows out without pause, succumbing to her hunger, letting Ningning takes what she pleases. You hiss at the sensation—a strange mixture of pleasure and pain, not sure which is winning out, only able to watch her drain you, eyes locked in an almost sinister trance while she feeds.
Then, just like that, Ningning pulls her head back, lips stained with a crimson red that she wipes off with the back of her hand. She looks more vibrant, alive—eyes that pierce deep, more than satisfied for the night.
"Thanks, love. That's enough," she replies softly, running her fingers over the bite mark before planting a little kiss on your cheek. "Took a little more than usual. Hope you don't mind."
You laugh, looking up, lost in her gaze. "What am I gonna do, Ning, take it back? Don't worry."
"That'd be very inconvenient," Ningning says, smiling at that. "You should rest a bit, yeah? How do you feel?"
You shrug. "I'll manage. Little dizzy, but I'll survive."
"Because you have nothing to eat in this shithole. You sure you're good?"
You nod, smile returning to your face as you glance up. "Yeah, of course. Nothing I haven't handled before."
"Good." Those devilish fangs fully on display linger for one more moment until they retract. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little disappointed.
"So, is this the part where you tell me why you showed up at midnight, wearing next to nothing?"
Ningning presses her body close, offering just enough cleavage for your eyes to wander. "Like it's a surprise I'm here."
You say nothing, and somehow, that's the one thing that actually bothers her a bit. Ningning rises, turning away, more annoyed than offended—a bit different than her usual arrogant nature. "Haven't seen you in a few months. Didn't think I needed an invitation."
"And maybe there's a reason for that."
Surprisingly, Ningning says nothing else for a fleeting moment. Laughing in spite of it all. "Wow. Is there another vampire bitch here giving you what I can't? Because last time I checked—"
"Of course not," you answer immediately, ignoring the tone in her voice.
"Good. Like I was saying, nobody fucks you like I do, and I don't think there's anyone else out there that can."
You sigh, attempting not to feed that overzealous ego even more. "Ning—"
"Don't Ning me," she snaps, the fangs exposed again, retracting within seconds. "You should be so damn grateful that I'm here right now."
"For what, so you can have a midnight snack?"
Ningning ignores that entirely, moving quickly to straddle you once more, wrapping a set of slender, ice cold fingers around your neck.
Her eyes burn into you, and you're too powerless to look away. "Say it. Say I fuck you the best. I won't leave. Not until you say it."
You ponder whether or not to comply, the air leaving your body bit by bit. Ningning squeezes just the right amount—just enough to leave you wanting more, leaving an ache between your legs.
"You're unbelievable."
"In bed, yeah, I am, aren't I?" she purrs, bringing her lips to yours, crashing them into you, hard. You kiss back, already done with resisting, because like it or not—you need Ning as much as she needs you.
"If you didn't look so sexy right now—"
Ningning cuts off the thought, shoving her tongue down your mouth to silence you. "When do I not? You've seen me at every point possible, at every hour, dressed up, down. Sexy is just the norm for me."
"Always so fucking cocky," you mutter under your breath, diving back in for another taste.
"It's not cocky, it's just the truth," Ningning says, sliding off your lap so she can lower to her knees before you. "Let me prove how accurate that statement is. Let's get these pants off…"
You're far too weak to say no, and not because of the blood loss. One swift movement from Ningning, and she has her fingers hooked at the waistband of your pants.
"May I?"
So polite. With a nod, she tugs them down, just far enough for what she has planned, revealing your boxers that aren't doing a very good job at hiding how aroused you are.
"Mmm, yeah," Ningning purrs, satisfied at what she sees as she begins to palm you over the fabric. "Was kinda worried, but got plenty of blood pumping here..."
There's only one thing left, to let Ningning do whatever she pleases, shove your boxers down so your cock can spring out, the tip practically oozing already.
"All this for me? Gonna milk you dry tonight."
Again, there are no words that come from you, not a single thing outside a gasp. You try and keep your focus on Ningning herself—on that depraved stare when she strokes you. And she gets right down to business, pressing her tongue against the underside of your cock, flicking it a few times before taking a long drag down.
"I really missed this, baby," Ningning admits, planting several teasing kisses from base to tip, giving such satisfying strokes that make your stiff shaft leak.
You barely catch what she's saying—too focused on her touch, one that you haven't felt in far too long, by the person that knows you best. The heat from her mouth as her kisses linger along each and every inch, every vein that her hand travels down, familiarizing herself once more.
"Missed this inside my pussy, feeling how deep you fill me. Missed sucking it, missing making you cum just from this," she murmurs, staring up through those long eyelashes at you while she presses those full lips around your sensitive head, peppering it with affectionate kisses.
You simply moan, unable to get anything else out with her wet tongue swirling all over the head, savoring the taste.
"You missed me too, didn't you?"I know you did. That's why you won't push me away, or kick me out. That's why you won't ever tell me to stop."
Before you have a moment to breathe, Ningning wraps her lips around the head of your cock, trapping it in warmth, sinking down slowly. You can't hold what comes next, another loud moan that escapes as she gives a pleased hum in response, fondling your balls while her head bobs between your legs.
"Ning—"
She descends again, satisfied with that. And keeps at it—never fully down, never allowing her throat to be too full. Just slow, steady suction and delicious warmth while her tongue teases all over, sliding along base to tip, and back down, using all her tricks to draw your bliss out.
"This beautiful cock, fuck, missed the way you taste. The way you throb, how sexy you sound when you moan, mm," Ningning says, pausing just to run her tongue down every last throbbing inch. "And so, so fucking big. Mine. All mine."
Her head lowers, so sloppy and desperate, popping off just to spit on your stiff cock, spreading it all over before that heat envelops your shaft once more. All you can do is stare, every bob of her head drawing you closer to the back of her throat, a sight far too beautiful not to watch.
"God, Ning. Your fucking mouth…"
"Feels amazing, right? Nobody can make you feel this good. Nobody takes care of you like I do, baby? "
Ningning's right—of course, she's right, just like she always is, and you couldn't fight her words even if you wanted to. Because those lips know what they're doing—know how to please you, how to make you groan so pathetically, like her mouth was made just for your cock.
"I could suck your dick all day."
And you'd let her. Let Ningning take everything she wants and more. Everything feels too good—each flick, each slurp, the heat of her mouth—everything is taking you away, especially when she holds your gaze, until she finally swallows you whole in one fluid motion, nose pressed to your stomach as her lips seal tight.
"Fucking hell—"
It's almost a mistake to watch, to watch how her lips slide to the base and back down, this constant urge to please as her throat fills with every inch, tongue out with every stroke. The wetness that covers your shaft with every pass, mouth engulfing you, and all you can do is grab the back of her head, not to guide, not to control, but to simply indulge.
"Feels so fucking good, shit, nobody can do what you do, Ning."
She just stays still, eyes wide, appreciative at your words with her hands caressing your thighs, hardly any strain on her expression to have your entire aching cock buried in her throat.
"The best part is watching you lose yourself," she murmurs, popping off as saliva connects to your tip, breaking that connection so shes can stroke your the spit-covered shaft. "Lucky for you, I have no use for breathing, so I can have that big fucking cock just where it needs to be.
You're practically trembling, so close already it won't be difficult for Ningning to finish you off. That devious look she gives when reaching down to pull up her tight skirt without her lips leaving you. And it takes all you have not to lose it once you realize she has absolutely nothing underneath, her pretty, wet cunt for your viewing pleasure.
"It's a good thing you had an appetite," she says, shifting position just enough so you can see her fingers rub at her bare pussy. "Because my cunt is about ready to devour you."
Ningning says that as she picks up the pace, one finger between her legs, other hand resting on your thigh—bobbing her head at a frantic rate, taking you down and back up like nothing, not a single gag or struggle. You can't do much more than moan and stare, mouth parted and helpless, balls so tense the longer she keeps going, until Ning mercifully pops her lips from your throbbing cock.
"Thinking about how bad I want to ride you, baby. Or maybe you should have me bend over—fill me from behind and slap my ass as you give it to me. Or get all sprawled out, wrap my legs around you so you can't pull out, pound me while I scream how bad I need you. Lots of options for you to ravage my pussy, isn't there?"
The room is practically silent except for the sloppy, hungry sounds of Ningning awaiting your response, bobbing up and down your cock, tongue gliding flicking along every wet inch.
"Upstairs," you say, all out of breath—and it's all she needs to hear.
Ningning swallows you one more time, leaving a wet kiss on your swollen tip once she pulls off, ignoring your body's pleas to stay.
"Well then, lead the way my cute little fangbanger—but do be careful, I did just drain you."
In more ways than one, that's for sure.
There's a surge in motivation as you begin the trek up the stairs, Ningning close behind. Every footstep up the stairs, each thud echoes, like a countdown to your fate that awaits. You can only think of what's about to happen, the way she will take your body, and the sinful things you're going to do to her own in turn, nothing holding either of you back.
Once you arrive at the foot of your bed, Ningning is quick to shove you back with surprising force, giggling as she watches your weakened frame stumble back and land. She steps away, positioning herself close to the window, so you can see everything illuminated in the moonlight.
Ningning is unreal. Her ethereal beauty too much to handle as she undresses, her complexion glowing, that pale skin more beautiful than anything else. Those painted nails that have dug into your flesh almost as much as her sharp fangs, and your thoughts wander, watching each piece fall until a pile of her clothes lingers on underneath her bare feet.
You nearly faint once she's fully naked and turns to face you.
Every delicious curve for your eyes only, you feast on that naked skin, those pretty nipples, hardened by the cool air, those hips, luscious legs—every single inch of her more than overwhelming you. The silhouette of her body can't compare to the real thing once she closes the distance, climbing your lap in record time, hovering dangerously close to your erection.
"Been a while since you last fucked a vampire," Ningning teases, the heat of her cunt teasing the tip of your cock.
"And just whose fault is that?"
Ningning glares, spreading her wetness over the head and doing little else. "Now you're blaming me? When you made it so difficult just for me to see you?"
Before she drops her hips, Ningning allows her fangs to extend again, almost a reminder of her advantage over you. She's grazing over your chest, not using the full force just yet, merely playing with you. Little lovebites left scattered over her favorite parts of you, as if you won't remember the deep ones on your neck from earlier.
"Fucking love you like this—vulnerable, compliant, all fucking mine," Ningning purrs, catching her breath in between bites. "Bet you'd let me do anything to you tonight."
"I'd let you do anything you want anytime," you admit, realizing what comes from that statement.
She smirks at that, at your sudden honestly. Her tongue swipes the side of your face before trailing the shell of your ear, sucking on the soft flesh of your lobe. "Aren't I the lucky one, then?"
Without anything further, Ningning continues her path of destruction, trailing kisses and licks down your body. Like she's for the right moment to strike, or at god knows what else she has planned. Her lips catch a nipple, giving a few swirls that don't allow the pleasure you need, kissing down your abdomen and grazing the flesh with those fangs—those sharp things coming dangerously close, the thought of them puncturing the skin sending an orgasmic mixture of fear and arousal.
"Don't be nervous, baby," Ningning murmurs, lips tracing lower, planting kisses right below your navel that make you gasp. "Would never hurt you or do without warning. Well, without prior permission."
There's no time to give a snarky reply, nothing witty coming from your mouth as she looks at your skin she's made so sensitive, appreciating her work.
"Not nervous, Ning."
"Oh? Then I might wanna let you do what you want for a change," she murmurs into your skin. Ningning's lips hover right above your inner thighs, her hot breath enough to make you flinch, the anticipation of the bite, the delicate tease making every muscle tense up.
"You'll let me?"
Ningning laughs at your question, tongue dancing from where she left off. "Yeah, I'm giving you a freebie tonight. Have your way with me, darling."
It's a hard bargain—you don't trust her intentions, but there's no time for negotiation.
You lift her off with little effort, almost as if your strength returns without warning. Ningning's on her back, legs spread wide, glistening folds exposed to you as she waits for your next move.
"Yeah, this'll do," you say, drinking in that gorgeous view of her pretty cunt that's about to be made yours.
Ningning just smiles at the gesture. "Always knew you were a stickler for the basics. It's cute, really."
That's what she thinks. With that, you lift her legs up, resting both on your shoulders and folding her tiny frame, each of her feet by your ears. In an instant, her face changes from one of disappointment to realization, just at that split second before the plunge.
"Okay, this is different. I've misjudged, it seems—"
You say little else as your cock buries every inch in, sinking inside that soaking mess, making sure you fill her aching pussy perfectly. The groans slip out at her tightness, the wetness that consumes you, the way that Ningning looks once the motion of your hips start.
"You're fucking mine," you growl at the next slam, while her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head, her intoxicating cunt swallowing you up and clenching to make sure you won't dare leave.
"Ah, f-fuck!" she whimpers once you start to fuck her the way she needs. The way you think she deserves, the way you know the bed is going to protest to. No time for her to adjust, Ningning's tight little cunt clamps down with each desperate thrust, making sure you bury every last inch inside her.
"You're so tight—" you grunt, sweat gathering on your forehead already. "Feel too fucking good—always feel so fucking good.
Ningning looks gorgeous when she takes your cock. Hair a tangled mess, all spread out, completely at your mercy. "And you're so deep, so much deeper this way, damn, baby."
"Don't act so surprised, Ning."
"Oh, don't think I can be surprised? As if I expected this? You're never this aggressive."
"Maybe you pulled it out of me," you admit, hips snapping, watching Ningning's expression falter with each slam to the hilt. It's addicting to see her fall apart for a change, to watch those moans escape, pummeling her cunt like there's no other way, no other alternative—like your dick belongs inside her at all times.
"God, baby, look at you go," Ningning huffs out, parting her lips at the forceful treatment you're dishing out. "Making my pussy feel so good, ah—I haven't been fucked this good in ages."
"Then allow me to remedy that situation," you start, taking pleasure in the way she crumbles, the gasp she makes when you withdraw, the frantic moan when you hilt back in.
"Fuck yes, baby—give it to me. Harder, can feel you in my guts, shit," Ning cries out, throwing her head back, content to bask in the pleasure each time your cock disappears fully into her tight little pussy. "God, I needed you so bad. Needed you to fill me up so well."
"Here I am, Ning. Not going anywhere."
There's this rare moment where she can't find any witty comeback, not when that mouth hangs wide open, no snarky comments falling, nothing but pure unadulterated bliss. She's squirming, nails digging into the sheets, lifting her hips higher to let you reach places she'll feel for days.
"Fuck! Fuck, please, god yes," she pleads, struggling to find the words, staring at you through in hopes that you'll get the memo. "Please. Fuck me deeper, wanna feel all of you, want that cock to ruin me."
And that's precisely what you do—holding that position and looking Ningning right in those pretty eyes as you sink deep, pound that wet pussy until she's clinging for dear life to the sheets. She's powerless to you, or at least, pretending to be, words lost to lust as you fill her again and again.
Knowing that for once, she isn't the one in control—there's no strings attached or manipulating factors—that Ningning, that bloodthirsty, cunning, dominating vampire who can bring anyone and anything under her power, is nothing but a toy under you now. She's yours to do whatever with.
That sets something off inside of you, makes you want to push things further, take things to the next level. You shift, spread those legs wider and lift them off you until her knees almost meet her chest, folding her in half even.
Ningning's expression is filled with approval once you do, hips thrusting wildly with no mercy on her drenched pussy, hitting deeper than even before.
And now she looks delirious with pleasure, and your knees are digging into the mattress so you can get that little extra leverage, more power behind those harsh thrusts, hips working to the max, determined to ruin Ning—if it were even possible.
"That's it, destroy me, baby, make my pussy yours. Isn't it funny—you've got me in this, what do you humans call it? A mating press? And it's almost a shame that you can't breed me—makes me wish you could. Give all that hot, yummy cum something to do besides make my pussy gush."
"That's the last thing we need, another Ning. One of you is more than enough."
"You wish you had two. One to suck your hard cock in the morning and another to sit on your face. Yeah, you'd love that."
Your mind can't seem to even grasp the reality of that, picturing it all for a brief moment, only to continue hammering Ningning's tiny wet cunt. The urge, the carnal need to bring her to her brink and beyond consumes you—your hips working without rest, giving the girl no chance to recover, fucking her over and over in that delicate position with no way out of it.
Her body can't keep up with the intensity, and you can't almost either. Pinned against the mattress with nowhere to go, all that attention focused on her soaking cunt—too sensitive, too wet, too inescapable, each thrust becoming impossible to handle. For both of you.
You take pleasure watching her fall to pieces with each thrust that fills her, savoring every gasp that you cause, each plea for you to keep on driving in deep and hard.
"You, baby, keep pounding me like that—fucking my pussy and ruining it. Giving it to me so hard because you know I can take it, I can handle everything you give. Keep it going, keep going and give me what I deserve, empty those balls inside me like you own this pussy."
Hard not to when she's so convincing—staring at you, demanding your load, pleading to keep hammering that greedy cunt, your balls smacking against her asshole more than ready to dump it all in her.
"Get ready then," you say, hips losing all control—that pussy just won't relent, sucking and squeezing all around and making it harder than ever to keep going any longer.
"Oh, baby, please—I was ready to be pumped full of cum the moment you invited me in. You're gonna cum so hard, I know, fill me, make my pussy so messy. Get that hot load nice and deep in me," Ning pleads, bracing for the inevitable, too far gone for anything else.
"Don't you fucking worry, Ning, this tight pussy is getting everything," you say, sheathing yourself deep in that wetness for as long as you can stand.
"Good, then you know what to do—cum inside me."
You groan out—more than compliant with those demands, no longer fighting against the pressure boiling deep inside. No fight left from that tightness you can't escape from, so you give in, unloading as your cock empties into Ningning. The relief is heavenly, each violent throb, each hot spurt that floods her insides, her cunt clenching to demand it all, keeping you captive while you fuck it all deep.
Ningning follows not a second later, struggling to keep her composure as her own orgasm hits, face contorting in pleasure at her reward, toes curling, walls tightening even more as the sticky mess mixes with her own juices together in her hot depths.
And before you can even finishing pumping it all inside her, your fresh load leaks out that sopping, ruined cunt, pooling underneath your pleasure-stricken bodies.
"That's it, fuck… can always count on you to fill my pussy up, baby, just how I need," Ning groans, a tired smile creeping up on her face as she embraces her own bliss. "So fucking hot."
You linger in your high, and do little other than fall against her body and embrace the relief, cock slipping out enough as your cum begins to spill out and ruin the sheets further, something Ningning wears in such satisfaction.
"See?" Ning asks, a bit of smugness returning her voice, playing with your hair. "Aren't you glad you kept that sexy ass mine? "
Your body shifts, so you can focus your gaze on her beautiful complexion. Even if things may end messy again, you have no regrets. For now, all that matters is being right in the arms of the person who's never been more certain.
"You know how much I missed you, Ning," you respond, watching the way her breasts heave with the breaths that follow.
Ningning glances down at you, like that's an obvious conclusion. "Typical."
Too tired to even roll your eyes, too tired to put up with Ningning's usual antics. "Alright, sounds like its time to go back home, and—"
She wraps her legs around you, preventing movement. "And why do you think that is?"
"You got what you wanted, you drained my blood and my balls. Now you can go."
Ningning's quiet as she ponders, just long enough for a mischievous smile. "No, I don't think so. It's late—let me sleep on your sofa."
"Sleep? You don't sleep until morning."
Ningning just giggles, peppering you with kisses that break down your protests. "Then you get to entertain me until then. Deal?"
"And what if I want to sleep?"
She squeezes tighter with her legs around your waist, keeping you firmly in place. "Then you let the wrong girl inside. Do you think I'm done with you?"
Well, no, you certainly don't. That's something she'll make abundantly clear.
"Okay, fine, I'll stay up—but let me take a shower. You really made a fucking mess."
"Me? You were the one that dumped all that cum in me."
You simply stare at Ning, glaring right back at you. The more you stare, the more you both burst out into a fit of laughter, any attempts at acting serious not lasting more than a few seconds.
"No, I think your pussy deserves some blame. It had my cock trapped pretty tight—"
"But you had me all folded like a goddamn chair. Pinned and begging for your cum, that's on you."
Her eyes narrow and Ningning raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow in disbelief. You just remain there, hands lingering atop her waist. "Oh, my apologies for how rough I got with your pussy. Wasn't aware my precious Ningning was so delicate."
Ningning scoffs, using her strength to move your hands off. "I'm a goddamn vampire, don't talk to me about delicate. You can't hurt me no matter how hard you fuck."
"Is that a challenge?"
Her glare continues. "Don't get fucking cocky, love. You'll hurt yourself more than me."
"Hm, sounds like a challenge to me."
"You're such an idiot. You could literally use both hands to choke me with no mercy and I'll just laugh at how pathetic you look. Nothing you can do."
You tilt your head. "Does that mean you'd enjoy the idea?"
"I didn't say I was against it. Just won't do anything, is the point."
There's little sense in debating the merits of that claim. And you're so exhausted that you wouldn't even try. For tonight at least, you can let Ning have this victory.
The rain eventually calms down, enough for the two of you to head outside the balcony and enjoy the weather without risk. Freshly showered, with Ningning in nothing but a stolen shirt from your closet. It's late—so late, but you don't really care.
"Are you planning to make a habit of this?" you ask, knowing what you're asking might be dangerous territory.
Ningning's head turns, the grin on her face looking devilish from so close as she leans over the balcony railing. "Would it upset you if I did?"
An hour ago and you'd have a very different answer—now you aren't so sure. "No, not really. I mean, not like I can ever stop you."
Ningning just takes in your reaction, her own expression not changing a bit. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you missed me."
You sigh, staring up at the night sky as she inches a little bit closer. "A pretty girl shows up at my door and lets me do whatever I want, lets me fuck her hard against the shower wall—yeah, maybe a little."
Ningning laughs, her hand creeping around to find yours, fingers interlocking and thumb rubbing slowly against your flesh. "Is that all it takes? For me to show up, suck your dick and let you empty your balls into me, then I'm suddenly a good person?"
"Hey, I never said that—"
"Darling," she says, tightening her grip, bringing her head right next to yours, warm breath ghosting over your ear. "I'd bend over and do every dirty little thing you ask without complaint. I'd worship your cock just for the sake of making you happy. All I need is for you to say you want that. That you want me."
That gets your attention. You can't say that this night has been anything but wonderful, despite your trepidation in at the beginning. Your fingers squeeze tightly around hers, eyes focused on Ningning's pretty face in the dark, moon illuminating her features.
"God, what am I getting myself into.."
She laughs, flashing that bright smile before turning back to face the city skyline. "Hopefully me again, love."
You snake your arms over around her small waist until she's tight against you. With no shame whatsoever, you slide your hands underneath, squeezing Ningning's bare ass and pulling her into a kiss.
"But what if I wanted to do all kinds of crazy things to you, Ning? Or wanted you to do them to me?"
Ningning struggles not to smile, doing all she can to not succumb to the giddy laughter that tries to emerge. "Just tell me a time and date then. So I can catch that goddamn train."
Not letting up, you steal her lips, tasting them, savoring how soft they feel against yours, running your hands all over her cold, bare skin.
"Why catch a train when I have a perfectly good sofa for you to crash on?" you ask between kisses, trying to spend as much time pressed up against her body as possible.
"Darling," she interrupts, almost annoyed, staring directly into your eyes. "Please be serious right now. Don't treat me like I'm some random hookup."
You raise an eyebrow, confused. "I wasn't. I'm offering you a place to stay."
Ningning breaks out into a little laugh. She stops herself when you show no sign of joking.
"Wait, you're actually serious? Really? Stay?"
You interrupt her with another kiss. "Isn't that what I said? Not gonna make you sit on some shitty train for hours just to get dicked down at some ungodly hour. Stay with me. Tonight. Tomorrow night. Whenever you want."
She doesn't know what to say to that, only that her smile is spreading from ear to ear. "Of course I'll stay—thought you'd never ask. I'll happily get dicked down any time I come. Suck your dick the moment you wake up. Make breakfast, talk dirty to you while you stroke and cum on my tits, all kinds of crazy, naughty things—"
"Ning, you already have an invite, you don't need to try so hard."
She laughs it off. "What can I say, I get excited by the idea of seeing that cock at any hour."
"Christ. Is that the only reason you want to live here? Just so you can drain me dry every hour on the hour?"
The little giggle that Ningning gives is enough of an answer, knowing she can't deny the fact that it's a strong motivating force behind her plans. "No, of course not, baby. I also need you around so I can take your blood whenever I need it."
You scoff at that, threatening to leave the balcony altogether. Ningning, laughing again, wraps her arms tight around yours, refusing to let you out of her grasp. "I'm not a buffet, Ning."
"Mm," she hums, nuzzling into your neck. "You're whatever I need you to be. Your cock certainly is. Your thick, juicy, delicious—"
"Ning—"
"Yes, darling?"
"Come inside. It's freezing and the rain is starting up again. And you're not wearing anything to speak of."
Ningning laughs, clinging to your side. "Or what, I might die? Vampire, love. I could do this all night."
Another sigh escapes, pulling away only to lift her up into your arms, getting a good grip under her ass so the resounding sound of her squeal fills your ears once you carry her back inside.
"Someone is eager to go again," Ningning says, more than happy with where things are heading. You pretend that the thought doesn't cross your mind.
"No, I'm freezing and wanna go to sleep. I have work tomorrow," you say, depositing her ass right onto the cushions of the sofa before she can put up a fuss.
"It's the weekend, love," she reminds, pulling you down on the couch with her, legs already wrapping around and taking the fight out of you. "Which means you're stuck with me until Monday."
Nothing you can do but laugh at her persistence. You kiss her, once, and then pull away. Staring into her eyes, taking in her beauty, wondering if it would always be this difficult for you to escape.
"Should have listened. When people say you shouldn't feed strays. Because they always keep coming back."
Ningning's expression changes, lips turning into a far more offended pout. "Are you calling me a stray? What the fuck—"
"You always show up on my doorstep, wanting scraps and a place to rest. Is that not far off the mark?" you tease, only to be cut off by her lips.
"Rude," she mumbles between each kiss. "There are plenty of places I could be. Men to see. Bars to visit. Places to collect victims. Yet, here I am. Guess where I've chosen."
"Just sounds like you don't have anywhere else to go if you ask—"
Ningning's kisses stop abruptly, grabbing your head and guiding it down between her legs. "I didn't ask, thanks. Now if you don't mind, be a good boy and eat my pussy before I need to feed again."
There's no argument there, nothing that would ever stop you. All comfortable on your stomach before Ningning, her creamy thighs about to consume your entire existence. You might spend the entire weekend here, you think. And maybe forever.
戒 (jiè) in Mandarin can have a variety of meanings.
As a verb, it means “to quit” or “to stop a habit”. For example, quitting smoking.
As a noun, it means “the forbidden” or “the taboos”. For example, cheating.
As a noun, it also means “rings”, for example, the engagement ring sitting on Sullyoon’s finger.
And that’s basically everything in this fic. Broken souls reunite, that’s when boundary blurs.
See it on Fanprose too, FP had 2 days of early access as usual.
Smut, ex-es, (kind of) cheating, description of alcohol and smoking
Word Count: 19K
Three years and one week.
That’s approximately one thousand one hundred days. It’s too long, but no long enough for you to truly forget about it. It’s also too short, short to an extent that you feel like it was still yesterday.
Sol Yoona, or as everyone in your friend groups calls her, Sullyoon. She was your first love. The past tense is still a fresh scar on your heart for that ongoing timer to go on. Tomorrow it’ll be three years and eight days since you quitted smoking because you were in love, and your girl didn’t like that you smoked. It was rather unfortunate that the relationship ended not long after.
Of course, the good old excuse of “we can still be friends” seems to work quite nicely on you two, if you will. It wasn’t a messy ending to a messy affair, rather, a mutual understanding of parallel career paths after graduation.
And as we all know, parallel lines don’t intersect. You don’t need Real Analysis to prove that.
You and Sullyoon are in the intersection of many friend groups still, due to the amount of time you two glued together throughout the undergraduate era. Showing up at the same party? Polite and formal chatters. Hanging out individually? Never, for some obvious reasons.
It was just the fact that you never wanted it to happen in the first place, maybe.
Your “going to Seoul and stay there” plan was cut short right after you obtained your Masters - you couldn’t master the overwhelming stress and the cutthroat competition to stay comfortable. So in the end of the day, you returned to where you’ve started.
It seems to be a bit too late though - that one party your friends set you up to welcome you home? But all you can remember was the fact that you saw a silver ring in Sullyoon’s middle finger.
You soon succumbed to the desire of having someone to love again, and it was when you fell into this trap. A trap that made you going back to nicotine for comfort.
This trap is your now girlfriend. The type that treats you more like a part of her property and a walking ATM machine instead of her lover. Well, you can argue that she showed up right when you needed someone to feel anchored again - and she apparently knew that - so you took the bait naturally. But hey, we aren’t getting too far out there.
Sometimes there needs no reasons to party at all, suddenly an invitation comes through, then a group of friends from college all pull up.
Tonight is those type of night.
You accept the invitation, knowing it is at least a useful coping mechanism to escape. Before you slide your feet into your sneakers, your habit reminds you to make a call.
“Why are you calling?” It is your girlfriend who picks up the phone impatiently, “I’m drinking with my besties, say what you need to say, quick.”
“Hey babe, I’m calling to make you aware that I’ll go to Karaoke with my college friends tonight at 9 o’clock. Only 2 females, all married. Don’t worry. The rest TEN of them are all my buddies.” You emphasize the buddy part, to try to please your girlfriend that apparently has too much to say about your own personal life.
“Obviously I’m not in town, so do it as you wish. Make sure to check your phone, I’ll be texting. Reply in a timely manner.” She dismisses your statement, as she probably took the train up to Seoul again to have some night life there with some of her so-called “influencer friends”.
“Ok, I will. Please take care of yourself, and drink less.” Your response emotionlessly, as these types of conversation had happened for too many times.
“Aw~ you know to take care of me too? I’m touched, really. By the way, do you see that hand cream I sent you? I’d be so happy if I can get it next week!” Why does she sound more excited in the second half of her response?
You can fluently understand that “social cue” between you two. “Oh, yeah, really? I can try look it up for ya. I know you really liked that designer brand; I’ll get it for you if it’s at a reasonable budget...” You stop before you finish as you hear some purring and sighing on the other end.
“Come on! Your pay day was just yesterday, wasn’t it? Don’t you love me?” Again. The classical guilt trip.
“I... I love you, definitely.” You stutter while shaking your head helplessly.
“Then don’t disappoint me, think about when I get back and you’ll too get your reward, isn’t it fair?” She laughs devilishly, instead of kindly asking for a gift, she makes it sound more like a threat.
“No problem, wait for a surprise when you next see me! Catch up with you soon!”
“Yay, oppa is the best man in the world!”
“Alright, take care ok? Bye bye.” Your patience runs low now as your bank account balance will do so soon. More than one of your good friends told you to leave this woman, and you were somewhat moved by them too.
You know what type of person she is. When she gets what she wants? She can be the sweetest girl in the world, and she gets devastatingly good at keeping you around her. With both of her sweet words and her... body.
Well, some might suggest that isn’t this a good deal? It might, if you can endure the surveillance and financial drain. It’s not rare at all for you to get a “quest” for designer items every other week, and it’s certainly a normalcy for her to know all your accounts’ password. So she knows you’re still “hers”, or rather... hers to use.
You know that, but you told your friends last week otherwise. “I see... sometimes she’s a bit... demanding. But I simply can’t let go of her, you know? Look at what happened to me when I broke up with Sullyoon.” You flipped on your lighter, hovering maybe the fourth cigarette during the meal with those two buddies of yours. “I re-smoked, I drank a lot when I was in Seoul. And no motivation to take care of myself, you feel me?”
“Then why did you break up with Sullyoon? Weren’t you two always like, sticking to each other? It was quite sudden, bro.” One of your friend’s chugged his Soju in the tiny glass, mumbling “thanks” as you lit his cigarette for him.
“Nah bro, it was more like a bad timing you know... we stayed in a good position until the very last day. Sullyoon and I just didn’t feel like long-distance, cuz all the Seoul thing. If I was more useful, I would’ve gotten a job there to stay. But well I guess I got defeated.” You inhaled, letting the warm smoke circulate in your systems. The nicotine brought you relief albeit also damage to your already exhausted organs.
“Why didn’t you ask her to start over again after you moved back here? Maybe she’s still into you, no? And you would’ve be having a better relationship than this one, brother. Sullyoon is really a kind person.” The other friend asked you while waving his hands as you offered him a cigarette.
“Bruh... didn’t you see that engagement ring on her finger? It had been like what, two months since y’all had that welcoming party for me? Even if I’m still liking her, it’s too late! But well don’t snitch to my current girlfriend otherwise I’m dead.” You let out a dry laugh.
“So you’re still into her! How unfortunate of a timing it was!”
“Nah, I didn’t say that! Don’t bring me into troubles!” You pushed your friend’s shoulders playfully.
Deeper in your brain somewhere, the image of your sweet history with Sullyoon was gradually fading. The pure image of two sweet lovebirds was getting stained by the toxic nicotine. You felt like you’d eventually let go of her like you once let go of nicotine. Perhaps.
———
It doesn’t take long for you to finish the replay of your memories in that metro ride. As the same two friends of yours are already waving you from the hallway right when you step into the Karaoke.
“Come on bro, we were waiting for you. The group is already singing!” One of them says.
“Brother, it is your chance tonight! Sullyoon is here too, and she doesn’t seem to be too happy for whatever reason. Take your shots, hahaha!” The other friend responses, but from the way he talks and sways his body? At least a bottle of Soju is down.
“Shut up bro, didn’t you see her engagement ring? It wasn’t like she broke up or something. Don’t cause troubles for him, his girlfriend is gonna murder him!” The first friend refutes, as you observe that his sanity is yet to be taken away by alcohol. But it’s just a matter of time before you both collapse.
“Yeah bro, don’t start things! We’re literally two taken people, we both have our other halves.” You laugh, while padding the drunken friend’s back.
———
Crossing the hallway with flashy neon lights and the air coated with alcohol, you soon walk into the lounge where the friend group is located.
People greet you cheerfully: some of them shouting your name out loud, some of them already singing melancholy songs for whatever reason, two of them are in the middle of a beer chugging contest.
And it comes to the person you’re most curious about. Even if you’re technically forbidden to feel so.
Sullyoon is sitting at the corner of the lounge quietly. She isn’t singing along to the guys who’re crying on the microphone. Maybe she drank, because you can see her cheeks are a bit read albeit the dim lighting in the room. And hell, the eye makeup cannot cover the hint of emptiness and exhaustion in her eyes.
She looks a bit... tired.
An intrusive thought invades your brain at this very moment. You stand across the room, hiding yourself amongst the loud crowd of friends. And your eyes scan lower and lower, until you hold your breath to check her hands - you sigh - her ring is still there.
Well, even it is not, what makes you think there’s any possibility for her to go back to you? Maybe she’s just too tired from work - you heard from the gossips that she does some designing for a big clothing manufacturer, that’s tough.
“Anyways... I’m here to drink a few beers and maybe sing. A few cigarettes on the way out and call it a night.” You tell yourself, as it is pretty much the only occasion you truly allow yourself to relax.
“Dang!” A crisp notification pops up on your phone. You know who it is before even taking it out from your pocket.
“Hey~ who are you with? Send pics.”
Of course it’s her.
You take a quick snippet of the Karaoke, avoiding putting the lonely Sullyoon in the frame.
“No need to worry, baby. See those two girls chatting? Their fiancé/bf are the two guys that are singing. Wonder if their relationships are healthy, cuz the men are crying. LOL”
There’s a grin on your face once you plant a sarcastic seed in your response. You swiftly point out the two girls other than Sullyoon, knowing for a fact that your girlfriend was checking on you to see if you’re flirting with other girls.
“What about the other half of the room? Are there no girls?”
“Nah, it’s just Yoonchul and Jihwan. You know them both. They’re alr drunk and fallen apart on the sofa, you wanna see them too?”
“No I’m good, text you later!”
You let out a long exhale, as Yoonchul and Jihwan aren’t even drinking. It is just necessary to borrow their names so your ex isn’t in the conversation.
But now you’re even more curious about Sullyoon. However, there is simply that weird, unspoken agreement between you two.
And there’s no difference tonight as it was for the last three years and one week. The discreet agreement is activated tonight.
Always sit across the long, U-shaped bench in the Karaoke. Or across each other if it’s in a restaurant. No conversations, polite nods, no unnecessary eye contacts. No sitting next to each other without at least three people in between.
These weren’t written rules, of course. They were instead, more like a mutual attempt to forget about the past and make the present less awkward and formal.
It’s just that you sometimes think, there’s no need for a broken man like your current self to be formal at all. Because there isn’t any form left.
You decide it is normal to check-in on your “regular friend” if she doesn’t seem to be too well.
“Hey Yoonchul, what’s up with Sullyoon tonight? Why is she not talking with anymore, and just sitting there? She’s not even like, drinking a lot.” You tap Yoonchul’s shoulder, and the latter turns around from enjoying his alcohol.
“Haha brother, how am I supposed to know?! Why don’t you ask her yourself? It’s not like you don’t know her or anything.” Yoonchul says.
“Could you ask her? I’m just curious hahaha...” you let out a few very fake dry laughs. “You know, just as a friend. Otherwise, I’ll be dead from my girlfriend.”
“Come on, I ain’t adding myself to the Death Notes if that’s the case.” Yoonchul shakes his head.
“Next two beers are on me.” You deadpan.
“Deal.” Yoonchul smirks as he approaches Sullyoon at the corner.
“This fucker...” you sigh, wondering how much of a big hit your wallet just took.
———
“Hey, Sullyoon? How’s it going for ya? Not in the mood today?” Yoonchul leans to the wall beside Sullyoon, the latter manages to give him a faint smile in return.
You hold your breath, trying as nonchalantly as possible to walk closer to them. You involuntarily cross the safe distance of 3 meters - another hidden agreement between you and your ex, but either way you can finally overhear the conversation.
“Not really, Yoonchul. You guys can have fun, I’m just a bit tired.” Sullyoon says, sipping her glass of champagne.
“Aw~ come on! Future bride! Tell us about your fiancé, we barely know anything about him! And when is the wedding?” At least Yoonchul is making your money worth it, he swiftly switched to the topic that you’re most curious about. The engagement ring. Despite you never should.
“Oh right, I haven’t talked about him much. But it’s not that big of a deal, really. Sales manager, always.... ‘Busy with clients’ stuff. And this?” Sullyoon surprisingly sighs, and she spins her ring with her thumb. “It is more like a placeholder, you know? Or a reminder that this relationship is actually still a thing.” You know for a FACT that something is wrong, from her habit when she felt stressed out back in college. She’d always spin her rings or bracelets non-stop.
“O...oh! I’m very sorry, I should’ve not asked. I... imma dip for now! Forgive my question! And please enjoy yourself.” Yoonchul scratches his hair.
“Don’t worry Yoonchul, you’re good. We’ve known each other for too long, so don’t feel bad about it! Plus, I’m not trying to hide anything here.” Sullyoon smiles, but a smile with no joy and full helplessness.
Yoonchul stumbles his way back to you, whispering in your ears like a devil. “Bro, cheating fiancé, absolute drama. Your fucking chance to take her back.”
“Man, just fuck off with your beers, politely. I heard it all, I said I’m not trying to hit on her or something.” You acquire the intel you wanted to know for whatever reason. Maybe she’s on the same boat as you.
“Nah, you can lie to me, but don’t lie to yourself.” Yoonchul sits back down before quickly orders two more beers on the touchscreen. “On you.”
———
You are still blended to the crowd, but the air in the Karaoke feels a tad thicker. “Busy with clients”? You hope it does not imply a cheating fiancé. Well maybe you’re just overthinking it.
There is absolutely no reason at all to care about Sullyoon’s relationship status. Yet you still do. It is the part of the fading memories lingering in your brain.
A little more than five years ago, a casual late night library studying session took place. And you gathered enough of courage via the help of a lot of caffeine to turn your relationship with Sullyoon from close friends into boyfriend and girlfriend.
There weren’t any designers’ items needed, there wasn’t any process of submitting all of your social media account and passwords. Just a simple bouquet of flower secretly hidden beneath the desk, and a bag of her favorite chocolate. Well maybe a few of scripted sentences prepared months ago.
And Sullyoon’s face became a Peach, she wrapped her arms around your neck while kissing your forehead.
Life-changing experience was an understatement for the relationship. You’ve never felt like this motivated and energetic before in your life. And the fact that dating someone gave you more than a girlfriend.
It gave you a REASON.
It gave you a reason to get better as a person; to take care of yourself and always present your other half with the best version you’ve got.
It gave you a reason to quit. Sullyoon never said anything, but you observed how she always held her breath for a second or two as you kiss her. Then she’d take a short inhale and repeat. You thought she was being nervous, until a day where she casually dropped the fact that she didn’t find the smell of nicotine being pleasant at all.
And she alone is enough for you to battle through the almost undefeated addiction.
“Sorry Sullyoon, I never realized how you had to endure an unpleasant smell for this long. But I’ll quit for you.” You told her.
She said nothing, just resting her hands assuredly on top of yours.
For weeks after, she was by your side. She was your company when you battled through your darkest time.
And since that one day, three years and one week ago: you felt like your Golden Hour has begun. There’s no more Smoke Break needed for stressful academics, because you have Sullyoon in your world. As a girlfriend.
It was that impactful.
Your life felt more refreshing than before. Sullyoon’s blushing cheeks replaced the red flame from the lighter. And her warm embrace was just tiers above the hazy heat from cigarette smokers.
You thought it would last forever. You thought that you’d become her fiancé and spend the rest of your life with the loveliest and understanding woman you’ve met.
It turned out to be a bit short. Your grand scheme of going to Seoul for better opportunities came into conflict with her decision of getting into the workforce fresh out of college. You know it wasn’t a topic that could be solved by talking through it.
In the end of the day? You witnessed your only lifeline vanishes into the void. It wasn’t messy, it wasn’t even emotional. It was a simple farewell at the train station and a kiss goodbye.
“I hope you’d be someone’s dreams come true in Seoul. And best of luck for your Masters.” She squeezes a faint smile.
“And you definitely deserve someone better than me.” You pull Sullyoon close and kiss her for one last time.
“Thank you.”
“I love you.”
The train gate slides close later.
True lovers wish the best to each other, even if it means separation.
———
A wild buzzing in your pocket drags you best from the sweet yet bitter memory with Sullyoon. Maybe if Yoonchul knew all of these, he wouldn’t be surprised why you wanted to know if she’s doing ok.
You take your phone out of your pocket and get ready for another round of interrogation. Well, it cannot possibly be anyone else but her, because she turned off all of your other notifications.
“Hey baby! Everything doing ok? Had anyone joined y’all?” Your girlfriend texts, but she clearly means if there’re any GIRLS joined your party. From your experience.
“Nah, instead two people left cuz they’re drunk asf.” You don’t bother, simply mirror the previous picture and send it back to her - you’re at the boundary point of dealing with her endless surveillance - especially when Sullyoon just made you realize how colorful your life once was.
“Good. Talk to you later.”
You don’t reply.
Instead your hands going into your other pocket and reach for the pack of cigarettes.
And yes, you re-smoked not long ago. Following the two years of dreadful Masters in Seoul, the failure of getting into a PhD position became your final blow.
You didn’t have Sullyoon with you anymore, so nicotine became your friend again. You made the call to come back to your hometown, hoping for a job in a less competitive city. And you have to be honest that you also hoped if Sullyoon is still around.
She welcomed you back with a ring on her finger. And your current girlfriend knowingly showed up at the moment. A simple drink at the bar led to the night which your released of months of stress in her bed.
And you became hers to play with since then. She never told you what part of you that she liked, maybe it is the “Heart-broken from Seoul that works a decent job” part?
That felt wrong. You felt wrong. It was just that you never had the courage to end it all. You were afraid that if you break up, you’d end up being alone at the nights again. You were afraid that you’d again become anchor-less.
You couldn’t admit it was a mistake because you were mostly scared to the fact that Sullyoon is taken but you’re single.
You light up a cigarette in this Blue Hour, and for the first time at the night: your gaze locks on to Sullyoon’s.
She is still sitting in the end other half of the Karaoke, resting her chin on her palms. Sullyoon sees your fluid motion of using your lighter, you instinctively want to hide. She raises an eyebrow but there isn’t any bit of judgement in her exhausted eyes. Only a sense of knowing empathy.
You stare at her ring through the noisy crowd. She shakes her head gently with a faint smile. Sullyoon then raises an eyebrow back at you. You smirk, shaking your buzzing phone screen towards her, hoping she can see the endless message spam from the other side. She exhales, closing her eyes.
That’s all you two need to communicate.
The next hour flies by as you switch in between small talks with your college friends and listening to them singing one song after another. You talked about your life in Seoul; you talked about how it is so different compared to the quiet suburban town that you’re in right now and how you felt like a failure who returned to the starting line after two years of nothing. You asked them what they’re doing now for a living, complained to them how equally tormenting it is to sit through lectures and an office job.
But you did not talk about your relationship. Rather than being afraid that someone may snitch, it is more about the fact that you don’t want to. You want to run away. You don’t bring up something that you want to escape from. It’s simply getting unbearable.
Not long later, a waitress knocks the door and reminds you guys there’re only 15 minutes remaining. People start to pack up and get ready to go.
“Yo! Thanks for the beers, wanna hop on? We’re calling a cab.” Yoonchul puts his jackets on as he asks you. You hesitate for a second and turn your head.
Sullyoon didn’t move an inch, she’s still sipping her cup of wine that she never finished during the night.
“Ah... I guess I’ll wait ‘til later, I wanna get one more drink. Take care brother!” You give Yoonchul a firm handshake, farewelling him and other 2 friends.
“Haha, our future bride! Are you leaving yet?” Meanwhile, the two couples are also heading outside.
“Oh, yea.” Sullyoon puts down her glass onto the counter as she tilts her head towards your direction. Your peripheral vision catches this moment, so you instantly look down on your phone which 3 new notifications had popped up since you last checked 2 minutes ago.
“I’ll wait ‘til the traffic gets lighter, you know.” Sullyoon gives them a polite smile while crossing her legs.
“Alrighty, take care! Remind us when the wedding is close!” One of them waves goodbye at Sullyoon. You peek from afar, catching her smile freezes for a split second that only you could find out.
“Thanks. Good night.” Sullyoon waves at them back.
And as the two couples close the door, Sullyoon and yourself become the only ones remaining.
Tacit.
You say nothing, instead you approach the touchscreen near the door and select “Room Extension for Thirty Minutes” and pay it out of your pocket.
Need to be generous when it’s worth it.
You seat down at the other end of the U-shaped bench. If it was years ago, you would say it makes you feel like Sullyoon and yourself are opposite poles of a magnet that attracts this other.
Rather, it now gives you the feeling that you both are here because you’re repelled by the same pole from your respective partners. She hasn’t said a word since the last friend left. So you decide to break the ice.
“Good morning.” You say, the old-fashioned way.
“What’s so good about the morning?” Sullyoon finally speaks, the first direct conversation since years ago.
“Morning was good cuz sunlight brings us happiness. You know. It was nice. Golden Hours.”
“Too bad, it is at night right now. Everything is dark.”
You look at the final distance between you and Sullyoon, the only girl who can bring some light into your world no matter how the darkness tries to claim you.
“Then I may need to turn on my old lamp.” You grin, testing the water.
“You haven’t changed a bit.” Sullyoon finally laughs. “Then you need to get closer to reach the switch… Are you still gonna sit like we’re in COVID era? Social distance huh?” She’s back. The Sullyoon you knew.
“You know, I gotta make sure you’re comfortable with everything.” You raise your hands into the surrender pose, before sliding to the center of the bench.
“You know about me.” Sullyoon also gets closer to a point where gentle whisper is enough volume. “I wouldn’t even stay if I didn’t want to.”
“Right. So, how’s it going? Your job? Your... uh... life?” You scratch your head, not entirely sure what do you even want to hear from Sullyoon.
“He’s a cheater.” But she drops a bomb on a perfectly still pond.
“W... what?” You get caught off guard.
“You don’t have to act in front of me, you know? Yoonchul told me that you sent him.” Sullyoon grins, watching your face blush amusedly.
“Ah shit, that little bitch. B... but well, y... you didn’t have to tell me that.” The red color on your face is definitely not because of the alcohol.
“That was precisely what you want to know about me. No? Come on, it’s not the first day I knew you.”
“I... I’m sorry, I should’ve not. Not when you’re already engaged, at the very least.” You kinda don’t know what to do at the moment, so you apologize without any purpose at all.
“I don’t really mind...” Sullyoon sighs, “this?” She spins her ring with her thumb, “it’s just like a placeholder. To fool ourselves that a happy relationship does exist.”
“Wait what?” You are not sure if you are ready yet for the amount of information she just gave you. Why is she spilling her relationship secrets all of a sudden?
“I didn’t tell Yoonchul too much about it, but I guess you DO wanna find out, hmm?” Sullyoon stares dead into you with her big doe eyes.
“I... I... I guess? If you want to let me know.”
“Tell me about yourself though, you seem to be really exhausted. What’s up?” Sullyoon knows, she just does.
“I... yeah. It’s pretty much fucked up.” You let out a shaky sigh, starting to spill your own tea that you didn’t dare to for quite a while.
You trust her enough though, albeit the time she was with you was years ago. It is just surprisingly to see how the script flips this fast. You thought you had the upper hand.
“Yeah? I could tell.” Sullyoon’s reaction is nothing but a gentle smile.
“Huh?” You turn to her; she’s still sitting there elegantly with her legs crossed like she’s waiting for you to confess.
“You’ve been checking your phone every thirty seconds. And each time someone’s phone buzzed, you’d check if it was yours. Tell me about her.” Sullyoon states, her tone is calm like a flat line. You don’t seem to understand her emotions towards all of that.
“Y... you’ve been watching me?” Her thorough observation of all of your actions throughout the night is bringing up heat to your face. Sullyoon is still the same Sullyoon. Quiet but observant, knowing exactly what’s behind your small talks and the fake, formulaic smiles in front of other friends.
“How do you know it must be something about a ‘HER’?” You challenge back, as you’re still trying not to fold for whatever reason you have in mind. Maybe, you don’t want to admit that you’re worse off after you left her? Well but isn’t it the sole reason why you want to talk to her again in the first place? Even yourself cannot find out.”
“As far as I concerned, only girls would make you drop your convo with your buddies to reply.” Sullyoon delivers the final punch.
“Wow, you’re still good at this. I can still remember how you guessed my coffee order for the day two minutes after we met each time.” You laugh embarrassingly.
“But that was the past, huh?” Sullyoon tilts her chin, looking at you with both curious and a hint of... condolence.
You don’t know what to say, as you freeze there on the leather couch. The surrounding gets quiet once you two stop talking, it is just the mix of the weak hum from the AC and the chill jazz beats you secretly put on as you extended the room.
“You’re right.” You sigh heavily, “Turns out the present isn’t any better. She’s a... control freak, if you will.”
“Why then?” Sullyoon grins, you don’t know what is she implying. “You could’ve leave, you know? Before it is too late... like myself.” The final phrase was barely audible, but you are freaking sure she said it.
“What do you mean, Sullyoon?” Your tongue twisted just a little, because it had been a while since you last call her by her name. “I... I don’t know why I kept enduring it. I fucking know it is unhealthy. But well, I guess I’m more or less just... blinded?” You grab a bottle of beer whoever left unopened. You start letting the liquid down your throat after a crisp sound from cracking it open.
“I felt bad after I moved back from Seoul, felt like I was a failure... that ended up exactly where I started, no?” The beer is cool, but it brings the liquid courage and warmth to your body. So, you open up even more.
“And Sullyoon-ah, it was more or less your fault!” You feel dizzy, Sullyoon’s frame becomes two copies of the same mirage, then four.
Until her soft voice brings you back to the current dimension. “Well, my fault?” Sullyoon giggles amusedly, she then grabs the same bottle of beer you just chugged and starts drinking it slowly.
Too slow to a point where you feel like it is performative, even.
Your gaze locks onto the agonizing fashion of how Sullyoon’s lips seal the opening of the glass bottle, and how she’s basically kissing the edge where your lips were on literally a minute ago. A twisted kind of urge starts forming from the bottom of your chest.
“Y... your fault.” You sound hollow and utterly defeated, your once favorite girl is again sharing the same drink with you. But now as someone else’s fiancé. “I thought it was a timeout, not a full-time whistle. I thought that... naively enough, I lost a lot of things when I made the decision of coming back here from Seoul. But I thought at least you’d still be around.” You stare at the glass table, feeling like the final bit of strength supporting your body is collapsing.
“Did I not?” Sullyoon hums quietly.
“Not when you wore a ring on your middle finger the first time I met you after two years.” You lay back onto the bench, closing your eyes.
You let this strange mixture of feelings capture your mind. Grief, yearn, regret and also the slimmest silver lining by the fact that Sullyoon is still listening to you speaking.
“Now that, I also had my reason. But it’s not the time for questions yet. Finish your story first, baby boy~” You’re immediately awaken from the dizziness. What on Earth did Sullyoon just call you?
“What on Earth did you call me?” So you ask.
“Aw~ don’t get too sensitive, you’re yearning for the past. So I’m just reminding you about the past. Don’t lie, you liked it.” Sullyoon is already full-on smirking, but more from some sort of devastated relief, not happiness.
“Right. Anyway.” You shake your head, trying to gain some calmness back to your body. “Everything went wrong in Seoul; I was simply not the talent for the sheer amount of competition. Then I fucked up and didn’t get a PhD position in any of the schools I applied to. And I came back; I guess this part we all know.”
“Right, and then?”
“I felt very bad. Especially when... uhm... I saw that you were engaged.” You confess, “so I have to admit that I was being stupid, and I fell into a trap... to a rather... unhealthy relationship.”
“It seems to be more than unhealthy, at least according what Yoonchul said.” Sullyoon states, her fingers spinning on her ring again.
“W... why do you want to know about me so bad? I mean... my relationship.” You feel so exposed from the fact that not only Yoonchul told Sullyoon that you sent him, but also how miserable your current life is. So you raised your volume just a little bit, but in the end of the day? Sullyoon is not here to gossip on you.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want the same from me. Well, I just wanna make sure you can still afford to fold.”
“Fold? I wanted to. But I was stuck in there too deep, I’m always afraid that if I leave her, I’d lose the final bit of comfort I can sometimes get. You know, when she’s at her kind state. But shit, I know I’m just coping. I freaking know it is not healthy to spend more than half of my salaries on buying designers’ items for her. And I’m also aware of the fact that I have no privacy life once I handed all of my social accounts and passwords to her.” Your eyes feel watery, so you signal Sullyoon to pass back the bottle of alcohol to you. She does.
You look at the faint crimson at the rim of the bottle, deliberately pressing your lips onto the mark. You do it like it can turn back the time and bring you back to three years ago. Of course it cannot. Sullyoon looks at you knowingly, a mixture of exhaustion and hollowness creeps onto her face.
“I’ve been just coping, Sullyoon-ah. I didn’t dare to admit I made a big mistake.”
“What mistake?” Sullyoon rests her chin onto her palm, elbow on the handle of the couch. There is a faint hint of empathy in her tired but soft gaze. She cares.
“To give up my true love and all in for nothing, ended up losing both.” You smile, not because you’re happy or anything. It’s more about the sense of relief after being able to look back at the messy past and admit it was wrong. It takes courage that you apparently never had enough.
“I’m glad that you feel the same way. My instinct was right.” Sullyoon lets out a quiet hum, and her story begins too.
“You know? I knew you’re a smart guy, I always felt like that from the bottom of my heart. So when you told me you’re off for Seoul? I never expected you would come back.” Sullyoon looks at you, but you avoid her gaze otherwise you KNOW you’ll soon fall.
“Then? I started to think about if it was my own decision that had caused everything to burn. I COULD go with you, but I ended up feeling not to add an extra burden on you. But well, I always wished you the best. And it was not long after I entered the company, he started to approach me. Well, at least he acted like very sweet and considering. So I said yes when he asked me out, and right, I needed some emotional support as well. You weren’t the only one that felt bitter about the ending. Then? Then things accelerated quite quickly, I sometimes found him talking to other girls in the company too often. But I brushed it off as his Sales Manager nature: small talks here and there type of stuff. Until once when I went out for a drink because he wasn’t replying my message until 1 a.m.? I saw him at the bar, with his female clients. They fucking kissed, and it made me vomit.” Sullyoon sighs, trying to drink more beer from the same bottle but you had already finished every drop. She uncrosses her legs, burying her face in her hands for a split second, her shoulders tensing up as the scene of her own fiancé kissing another woman is rewinding in front of her right now. When she looks back up, the smirking, confident girl is gone. There is nothing left but a broken soul.
“Why didn’t you confront him then?”
“Because I was too stupid and agreed to his engagement the week before. He felt like once that ring is on, it’s like a spell that can protect him from getting caught cheating. Well, I could’ve confronted him and broke up. But maybe as you say, it’s sometimes hard for people to admit they made a mistake themselves. I even wonder what made him start approaching me in the first place? My body huh? I need that courage just like you do, so I can say no. I just... sometimes wish I’m not this observant so I don’t deal with this mess. It is not that bad of a life, besides a flirty fiancé that’s always ‘with the clients’ after work.” Sullyoon looks at her ring, and gradually lets her story roll.
“Wow... I mean... I don’t really know what to say. Maybe we both made some mistakes...” you add on.
“So, it’s time to correct them.”
“You ain’t wrong. It’s just... it’s too late.” You sigh, scratching your neck that is burning from the alcohol and something deeper than that. “I mean, I’ve already sent myself into a cage. And you’re already...”
Sullyoon doesn’t let you finish. Rarely.
“Nah, it’s never too late. You could quit nicotine when we were together. We can do this again. And we honestly should.” Sullyoon shifts her position right next to you, looking at you with eagerness and pure devastation.
You hesitate, not sure if proceeding is the correct and sane decision to make. But it is at this moment, you feel a strange sense of relief as your pack of cigarettes is sliding out of your pocket after Sullyoon just added weight on the side.
Maybe she’s right. It was easy to quit nicotine because she was there. But when Sullyoon’s gone, what can possibly help you quit the addiction of her?
Nothing.
“May I?” Sullyoon reaches even closer, her doe eyes are winking at you like the final hammer targeting on the shattering reality.
You exhale, closing your eyes. Your fate is destined.
Sullyoon quickly closes up the final distance left as she presses her lips onto yours. Your whole world is immediately converging into the space where your lips meet hers.
An odd sense of familiarity. It’s been too long. Your wrists spontaneously locate her slim waist and pulling her close. The quiet brushes of her jeans with yours is adding a layer of forbidden comfort amidst two chaotic worlds.
You let Sullyoon take the initiative, she keeps planting gentle but firm kisses onto your lips, as her manicured hands cup your face and caress your hair behind your neck.
“Hmm...” a breathy moan escapes from Sullyoon’s throat, shattering the elegant posture she’s been trying so hard to hold tonight. The overwhelming desperation is getting marked onto your soul by Sullyoon’s lips. Fuck. You missed the texture. So full, so juicy... and so pure.
Your hands are all over her slim frame already, fingers tracing her silhouette like you’re afraid that she’ll vanish into the void once your lips break apart.
You can’t hold it back anymore. The urge to break out of the cage overwhelms you and pushes you to override the so-called forbidden. You suddenly put your hands onto Sullyoon’s shoulders and shove her down to her back on the leather couch.
You straddle her beautiful body and climb on top of her, she lets you. When you reach close and look at Sullyoon’s big, doll-like eyes, you don’t find any resistance. You find her looking at you like you’re her savior, from her miserable relationship.
“Hhmph...” Sullyoon bites her bottom lips, her fingers interlocking yours like a signal that tells you to keep going. You dive down to start kissing her cheeks, her neck, and gradually down to her shoulder.
You start to gently unbutton Sullyoon’s white blouse. One, two, and three. You can already see the black straps of her bra beneath. Your finger trembles as you feel her body again, her collarbone is at full display. You attempt to remove the strap to get more access to the forgotten sanctuary of yours - the one that became your paradise - but also the one that made you feel like Hell after you’ve been forced out of it.
But a sudden noise scares both of you off. As you instantly jump off Sullyoon’s body, thinking if it is the staff member of the Karaoke that comes in to check-out. Sullyoon covers her half-exposed upper body with her jacket on the backrest of the bench.
But it only takes you two some extra seconds to find out it is simply a phone buzzing. To be more exact, there’re two phones buzzing.
Yours.
And Sullyoon’s.
“I think you’ve been waiting for it. Your phone was face up on the table for the whole night, and you checked it every other minute but nothing ever came through.” You take a deep breath, letting Sullyoon know that you’ve been looking at her too.
“Hhmn... I’m more curious about if your, uhm, controlling girlfriend is demanding a picture of your surrounding right now.
Remember to leave me out of it.” Sullyoon giggles, but her lips are curving up after hearing what you just said.
“Haha, why don’t we figure it out together?” You surprisingly are not afraid to receive that “checking in” from your girlfriend anymore. You unlock your phone and put it onto Sullyoon’s palm.
“Would you kindly read what did she send me?” You raise an eyebrow with mischief.
“Oh, of course, my ‘dear’.” Sullyoon seemingly knows your implication.
“Darling, I’m hitting up the next bar for Round 2, won’t be back ‘til afternoon tomorrow. Don’t bother me until then, just let me know where you are right now. And remember that hand cream~?” Sullyoon reads it out slowly word by word, using an exaggerated bratty tone that makes you cackle.
“And that’s just a snippet, but well I guess I don’t have to take a picture. Would you type ‘I already got back to my place’ for me? Darling? Pretty please?” You smirk.
“Aw~ of course! Meanwhile, would you kindly read me what my fiancé just said?” Sullyoon does a bowing gesture as she swiftly unlocks her phone and hands it to you as well.
“That’s a sure. And he said, ‘Business tonight, meeting clients in the bar. Don’t have to wait for me, goodnight.’ Quoted directly from your hard-working fiancé.” You intentionally emphasize the last two words, making Sullyoon giggle on the couch. “Do you want me to send anything back?”
“No, just leave it on Read. Like how he does all the time.” Sullyoon stands up, putting her jackets on.
“Yeah, honestly? Fuck them.” You follow her, getting on to your feet too.
“Fuck them.” Sullyoon agrees.
“I’m sorry miss, I believe I was a bit rushed. But I know a place nearby that can allow us to have some... deep in conversation undisturbed.” You deadpan.
“Say less. Lead the way.” Sullyoon gives your ass a lovingly spank as you start walking out of the Karaoke.
You two both laugh.
When the so-called “taboo” is screaming on your face, telling you to break it apart? There isn’t any reason not to.
And that’s why you’re holding Sullyoon’s hand and leading her to the discreet lovers’ hotel in the next block.
The place you two always went, when either of your roommates filed some sort of ... noise complaint back when you two were technically glued onto each other, especially at nights.
———
“I find this very thrilling.” You say, as the late-night street is greeting you with a cool breeze. That makes you feel like the burdens were taken off from you.
“I know right?” Sullyoon holds your hand tighter.
And neither of you says anything in the next ten minutes of walk.
The next time your consciousness is back online, you’re already walking on the hallway on the soft carpet of the hotel.
Your hands are shaking as you nervously tap the room key onto the door.
“BEEP!” The green light goes up, like the final approval for your actions.
Sullyoon shoves you right on to the door after impatiently kicking it closed.
““Mmph... you still taste the same. But you smoked again.” Sullyoon leaves your lips for a brief moment to get some air.
“Fuck, it was kinda tough without you. Needed some quick comfort.” You pull her closer again, not letting her wait for too long like the past years. Sullyoon’s tight body pushes her weight onto your chest, the wooden door protests by making a squeaky sound. But you don’t care.
You grab Sullyoon’s full and juicy ass through the denim, feeling her alluring curves with hunger. You lean down to kiss her, Sullyoon rests her hands on your shoulder. Meanwhile her lips dance with yours. Your half-conscious mind is soon getting knocked out with how smooth her kissing skill is. You missed it.
Her tongue is swirling pass through your lips, meeting yours in your mouth. The wet, sloppy sound echoes through the tiny but comfy hotel room. None of you had bothered to turn on the lights, it’s just the faint, silver moonlight through the half-closed curtain. Someone might see you from the building across the street, but you’re too desperate to care about them. You just let the moonlight shower onto Sullyoon’s small but insanely alluring frame.
You keep taking Sullyoon’s soft little kisses - as it should be - especially when during your relationship, she had always been the one that takes the initiative. Don’t ever estimate the ... dedication and mighty will she has behind that seemingly innocent baby face, especially in bed.
Your palms have shifted upwards; your fingers finally feel her midriff after pushing her tank top up. The warmth makes you feel so safe, and so anchored. Her body is radiating waves of energy that keeps your adrenaline flowing and flowing, so much better than the hollow, lifeless heat from lighting a cigarette.
Your hands slide up and down on the side of her body, letting the smooth texture of her skin greet your trembling fingers. Sullyoon smirks, biting your lower lip gently like she’s punishing you for being so rushing.
But well, she can’t really blame you. Because she is literally your salvation. Your salvation that makes you forget the mess, at least temporarily.
“It seems like someone really missed me.” Sullyoon teases, as she breaks apart the kiss and instead hovers her lips onto your ear. “Show me you’re still my good boy~ my favorite good boy, will you?” She injects lethal whispers into your ear while blowing soft air through your earlobe.
Your body shakes violently as her words dealt more damage you could’ve controlled. As much as you want to keep a little bit of resistance, the past memory of how you willingly let Sullyoon take control of you had caused your mind to melt.
You craved so badly of the comfort and safety of letting Sullyoon lead the way. She’d decide the positions, the plays and you simply oblige. You now realize how sexy that is, in comparison of your current relationship where the intimate moments between you and your girlfriend are more like a transaction.
More like a transaction that has a price tag made of designers’ items and total surveillance and mental control.
But with Sullyoon, it was different. And it still is. It is the sheer amount of love you had in front of the favorite girl of yours. It is the mutual trust and respect that shaped many of the unforgettable moments with her.
And Sullyoon reignited the ashes in your heart at the most desperate moment possible. That’s enough to make you fold. “Mmph... yes... Sullyoon-ah, I fucking missed it.” You cup her face, looking straight into her doe eyes as your clearest signal.
“Still my good boy. Come on, bed?” Sullyoon tugs the collar of your shirt playfully, just enough to let you know that the chain is back on again. But the chain made of caring and trust, instead of neglecting and control.
You follow her, and she shoves you onto the soft, clean bed. Sullyoon quickly dives down to start kissing all over your face again. You let out a few soft hums, she’s finally back.
Your body is still honest, and has very good muscle memory. As Sullyoon continues her kisses all over you, your shaft down below is already painfully hard. A visible bulge forms beneath your sweatpants as you feel her body on yours after years of absence.
“Fuck... Sullyoon, let’s move on. You’re getting me so hard already.” You groan, trying to persuade her to dive deeper than just the shallow kisses.
“No, baby~ Not yet.” Sullyoon pouts, looking at you amusedly. “You left me waiting for too long, and right when I gave up hope? You came back again. That was so evil of you. Is it not?”
“Shit... I’m sorry, Sullyoon-ah. But can we talk about it later? I’m ... fuck!” Your breath hitch as she palms your erected length through the fabric. You hip bucks upwards, trying to chase after the friction. But she instead uses the very same hand to cover your mouth.
“You don’t call the shot tonight, baby boy~ let me see if that freaky girl changed you... Or are you still the same good boy for me.” Sullyoon teases, while you can only leave out mumbled groans with your covered mouth.
She’s still the same. She only wants yourself. Because she loves you. And that’s why you always gave her everything, and things aren’t seeming to change tonight either.
“Hmmph....” You instinctively kiss and suck her thumb when Sullyoon slides it in between your lips. Her other hand guides your palms onto her chest. “Let me feel it, baby boy. Show me how you missed me like this, making you give me everything.”
“Holy fuck...” You mutter as you slide your hands beneath her tank top and bypass her bra, directly feeling her gorgeous tits again.
They are still soft like before. Even though you cannot see it directly, you manage to locate her nipples and brush them with your fingers. Sullyoon immediately feels the pleasure as you witness her biting her bottom lip in such an agonizing fashion. Her cheeks are slightly blushed, eyelids half-closed like she’s enjoying herself.
Of course she is, that’s when she pulls her thumb out of your mouth, wipes it on your face and leans down to kiss you. Before you have time to feel the wetness on your face, she already greets you again with her lips.
“Yes, just like that... my good boy.” Sullyoon says, tilting her head slightly just to get a better angle to savor you.
“Mmph... I missed you; I missed you so fucking bad...” you manage to leave out a few airy groans between kisses. But your fingers never stop their dedicated work. You grab a handful of her soft tits and squeeze them into shapes. Your fingers are shaking slightly everything you brush through her sensitive nipples as how the firm and perky texture contrasts with the rest of her wonderful buns. So does she, Sullyoon never stops kissing you as you play with her wonderful tits. Her face is getting blushed so pink, that even makes you think if it was the alcohol from earlier.
She seemingly drank a lot.
Sullyoon finally pats your hands gently, signaling you as she’s calling the shot to move to the next action. She leaves one long, wet kiss and pulls apart. A long string of saliva still remains attached between you two’s lips. Sullyoon cuts it off with the back of her hand and casually wipes it down on your shirt.
“Baby, do you still remember the old way?” She looks at you mischievously, starting to pull her tank top up in a tormenting manner. Each second she moves it up an inch, revealing more of her full, gorgeous midriff. And your hands uncontrollably reach on to her soft waist.
“Yes Sullyoon, I’d never forget that.” You dive your face into her chest, greedily acquire her deadly scent. Vanilla, floral and fresh. Unlike the dreadful bitterness of your nicotine.
And you start the old ritual, which was for you two to undress each other in the intimate moments at night. You slowly slide your hands up her slim waist after you sneak a kiss on her tits through her tank top.
“Naughty, just like before. Come on, do it quick so I can also strip my good boy too.” Sullyoon moans lightly from your kiss, but her body is cooperative. She raises her arms to both sides of her face, making sure you can swiftly slide her tank top off her body.
Then it comes to her bra, the only barrier between that pair of flawless tits which occasional drove you crazy and made you doubt your sanity. Your sanity when you decided to abandon them and head up to Seoul to achieve mostly two things - torturing yourself and giving your regrets in the future.
You freeze, staring at her plain black bra, her nipples are hard, visibly behind the thin piece of fabric. You have her at this very moment, but how long can tonight last? When the morning comes, you will both be going back to your own cages. The cages which both of you voluntarily locked yourselves in.
“Why are you staring? Hmm?” Sullyoon notices.
“I... I want tonight to go slower.” You let out a sarcastic laugh.
“We can make tonight last forever. We just need the courage. Now come on, undress me, and we fuck. And we think about the mess next time when we wake up.” Sullyoon just sees through your mind. She fucking knows you more than you do. She gives you a smile with sympathy, unhooking her bra from behind in a fluid motion.
“Yes...” you oblige. You kiss her shoulder and the bra strap; you bite down to the strap and slides it down her shoulder. Repeat for the other side. You do it slow, worshipping every inch of her skin.
Finally, the final piece of clothing on Sullyoon’s upper body is gone. You stare at her flawless frame in awe - her nipple is pink and hard, just like a cherry on top of her soft tits below it. You desperately want a taste.
“Like what you see?” Sullyoon smirks, literally grabbing you by your neck and she gently pushes your face onto her chest. “Be my baby boy again tonight and come make me feel good.”
“Mmm... yes...” the moment of contact lights up a fire both on your face and on your itching length. You feel her smooth skin with your face and takes in her deadly scent with your nose. And obviously that’s not enough when your face is in between Sullyoon’s two tits. So you start worshipping her, leaving open-mouthed kisses everywhere. Each time when you come across her nipple, you intentionally suck it in and brush it with your tongue like you’re trying to suck the cherry fruit off of its seed. Sullyoon is drown into the sensation, she presses on your shoulder and pushes you all the way until your back hits the backboard.
Then she straddles your laps and sits onto your stomach, while both of her hands grabbing your heads to make you worship her gorgeous boobs more. The faint mark of your saliva is clinging onto her small yet surprisingly full frame, shining under the faint moonlight through the plastic curtain. You don’t bother to slide it off, you don’t bother to turn on the lights either. You simply keep kissing and licking Sullyoon’s tits under the moonlight. Neither of you are afraid that there can be a certain “audience” across the street, maybe in the end of the day? It is not two people cheating on their partners.
It feels more like two lost faithful seeking salvations in their own desperate way.
Especially when both of your other-half has their own “business” to take care of.
“Mmph... Sullyoon, you still taste so good.” You mumble, as you slowly drag you tongue through her perky nipple for the one last time.
“Hmmph... it’s just the appetizer; the main dish is not even served.” There is a grin with mischief on Sullyoon’s flushed baby face. “Lie down on your back, babe~ I’m about to have some real fun with ya~” She whispers right into your ear. Your body shakes, and a wet spot is soon found on the tip of your tent down below.
She sees it of course, and she taps your leaking tip through the fabric with her nails. You hip bucks up, humping the air for nothing.
“Please... take it off already!” You hiss, as the desire is overpowering your sanity.
“Aw~ you’re getting so horny, I always liked how you squirm beneath me. It turned me on so much~ and it still does, see?” Sullyoon quickly takes off her soaked panties and throws it onto your chest, you feel her warmth and the wetness from her arousal at the same time.
Sullyoon then puts her hands onto your waist band, “Hips up, baby.” And you do exactly that. It only takes a full second before she slides both of your pants and your boxers down to your ankles. Your hardened and leaking shaft finally spring free; it smacks onto your stomach before bouncing back and pointing straight up towards the ceiling.
“Hmm... that’s about the right size like before.” Sullyoon mumbles.
“H...huh?” You were busy brushing aside her soaked pantie that she just randomly discarded onto your chest.
“Good, because that means the bitch didn’t drain you dry.” She says through her teeth. “You left me, but you’re still mine... at least for tonight, do you know that?” Sullyoon strokes your cock, just one single long and slow pump.
“Mmph... yes Sullyoon, yes... I’m yours, all fucking yours. Just please, more...” a drop of clear precum immediately oozes through your slit as she strokes you. You quickly beg for more, only for Sullyoon to giggle.
“How cute~ still like that greedy boy before. Come on, you know the drill. Now the main dish is served, but be sure to eat it properly ~” Sullyoon seems satisfied, she pushes her body even upper onto your chest, straddles around your ribs as you now lie onto your back completely flat. Her shaved, glistening pussy is just inches away from your face.
“Sullyoon, fuck...” you call her name but soon gets cut off as she sinks herself right onto your face. Your nose is brushing her pelvis and your mouth opens itself to greet Sullyoon’s pink, wet and warm folds.
“Mmph...” You moan, because she is a freaking delicacy. The mix of her arousal, her floral perfume and the faint hint of her vanilla body lotion are ruthlessly capturing every single cell in your nose. You get addicted to the taste back in the day, more addicted to nicotine and that’s why you could quit smoking with relative ease.
You dart out your tongue to lap around her pussy, you instantly feel her body is shaking a little. Sullyoon was sensitive with your tongue, she still is.
“Sullyoon, I missed this so bad. You taste so fucking good.” You throw out a few mumbled syllables as your tongue is still busily tasting Sullyoon’s swollen folds.
“And your mouth still feels the same, doing so well for me. Mmph...” You know Sullyoon is enjoying the pleasure from her breathy moans, so you flick your tongue on to her clit and suck it gently with your mouth.
“H...holy shit, right there, right there!” Sullyoon’s body is shaking as you assault her most sensitive area, she grabs your hair tightly and tries to hold your face in position.
You wouldn’t move an inch, even without her doing so. You can feel that her juice is starting to drip on your tongue, you eagerly lap every single drop of it clean. Her legs straddle your upper body progressively tighter as you speed up your oral work on her pussy.
“Mmph, baby boy... don’t stop! I’m close...” Sullyoon groans, as she leans down and grabs your thighs for balance. You’re already a goner in her heavenly scent and addicting taste, your cock throbs painfully into the air. You feel her tiny hands near that area, but you can’t see how close they are from your itching length, because in your sight there is nothing but Sullyoon’s pussy and her flat tummy. Her flat tummy that you are dying to make a bulge in.
You hump once, trying to chase any sort of friction you could. But it was only the warm air in the hotel room that greets you. “P...please, Sullyoon, stroke it for me. I’m getting so freaking hard eating you out.” Your hands find Sullyoon’s perfect ass and gently squeeze it.
“N...not until I come first, babe~ Now come on, show me how badly you want my hands on your twitching cute little cock, show me how you are still my favorite good boy...” Sullyoon grabs your wrists and pin both of your hands above you head, right at the headboard of the bed. You’re in a position that fully surrendered yourself. Sullyoon’s fingertip is hovering right above your slit, you can already feel her manicured nail touching your leaking tip. But she stops right there, you want to thrust into her warm hands so bad.
But it was this move from her that broke the dam. “M...mommy....yes....” You slip, as an unstoppable pleasure spreads across your body. You feel utterly safe. Sullyoon being in control is hot, but what’s hotter is how willing both your mind and your body are to submit themselves to the girl you truly trust.
Your movements start to accelerate in a nearly frantic manner. You make big slurpy sounds as your tongue keeps fucking into her wet folds, you tilt your chin to accommodate the angle of Sullyoon riding your face.
“F...fuck, I’m close! I’m gonna come... on your stupid face...Mmph!” It doesn’t take too long before your frantic licking and gentle sucking on her clit push her to the climax. After one last time you lips seal around her clit and a wet kiss, Sullyoon releases herself right on your face. Her thighs clamp your chest so hard that you feel like your ribs are about to break in halves. Her hands press your head down to the pillow and suffocates you with her flood. Your world blacks out as she loses her balance and sits right on your face during the orgasm. You can only (but also voluntarily) take in every single drop of her orgasm into your mouth and nose. Maybe you are running out of air if she doesn’t lift herself up soon, but frankly, this isn’t a horrible way to leave.
You keep eating her out through her orgasm, and right when you’re about to pass out, Sullyoon finally lifts herself off your face and collapses to your side. She rests her head on your shoulder, her hands lazily playing with your painfully hard shaft. Slowly, albeit you’re already desperate for release.
“That was intense...” she finally speaks, sounds exhausted but satisfied at the same time.
“And is it finally my turn?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Sullyoon teases you even more, like she’s about to use a lighter in a pool of gasoline. “And did you just call me mommy?” Her hand never stops caressing your throbbing cock, she alternates between agonizing strokes and teasingly tapping your tip with her elegant fingers.
“Mmph... we... we don’t really talk about that.” You squeeze the words between your teeth as the stimulation starts to become unbearable. But you’re still obedient, your hands are still over your head despite she’s not grabbing your wrists anymore.
“We surely have to talk about that, what’s so good calling me mommy? Hmm? My baby boy?” Sullyoon spits onto her small hands, and you moan out loud as she resumes to stroke you with her lubricant. Slick, wet, warm.
“Because I wanna be yours, Sullyoon-Ah... fuck, I’m all yours. Please more...” You confess, hoping it will earn your release soon.
“Good, I’m happy to hear you say that.” Sullyoon speeds up her pumping, her other hand now playing with your balls. “You wanna cum?”
“Yes, Yes!”
“Then give it to me, cum when your mommy is stroking you so nicely.” Her voice is like honey, melting your overwhelmed brain.
“Shit... mommy Sullyoon, I’m.... I’m gonna cum!” You mutter, as the pleasure is sky high. The threshold is met.
But she stops abruptly right at the edge. Both hands off your body, you scold out loud in frustration and meanwhile, a solid stream of precum leaks out of your overstimulated length.
“Fuck!” Your chest goes up and down violently, before you react to do it yourself, Sullyoon already grabs your hands again.
“Aw~ someone doesn’t like waiting. But you left me here waiting for too long, baby boy~ now this is your punishment.” Sullyoon’s little smug is so dangerous.
“I... I’m sorry! I never knew I hurt you this bad...” you shout, squirming on the comfy bed while getting your hands pinned over your head.
“Now you know. Say it yourself. Is it a good idea to abandon your lovely girlfriend and go to Seoul? For a life that’s even worse than before?” Sullyoon gets a bit emotional, you can see the sides of her eyes are getting watery.
“I... I was stupid! I was too ambitious and overconfident! I ... oh please, I’ll do anything, just continue.” You half beg half apologize.
“That’s simple, tell me who owns you.” She pouts with triumph.
“You, Sullyoon. I’m all yours, fuck!”
“Nice. Very nice. See? That crazy bitch can take away your money, she can take away your passwords. But your body and your soul are still mine, always mine. And you are like a mess when you leave me, do you understand?” Sullyoon stares at you like she’s going to pierce through your heart. But you already fully folded too long ago.
“Yes mommy, I... I’m always mommy’s good boy.” You exhale, telling the secret that you tried to fool yourself otherwise.
“Good, now you get your award~” Sullyoon smirks, as she lets go of your hands and relocates her body between your legs. She hovers her face right on your cock, giving you a knowing smile and she take you in with her mouth.
Holy shit.
You almost come in three seconds. The way how her soft lips create the most perfect seal around your tip which had been desperate for friction over the past thirty minutes. The first contact is short, she simply wraps her lips around your tip and soon releases it with a loud, wet pop.
Sullyoon looks into your eyes, like she’s daring you for what’s to come. She then dives back to the business, this time taking you all the way in.
“H....holy shit.” You hitch, as your whole throbbing cock is enveloped by Sullyoon’s pair of red lips.
Sullyoon takes you in. Deep. She gags a little bit as your hard length hits her uvula, a stream of her saliva drips down at the side of her mouth. She adjusts herself, spitting you out before relaxing her muscles and takes every inch of you into her warm little mouth again.
“Fuck... Sullyoon, you’re still good at this.” Your head falls backwards, you grab the sheet with both of your hands to try to delay the building pleasure from below. She doesn’t stop, instead she blows you even faster and harder.
Every time she takes you in, Sullyoon would drag her tongue along the bottom side of your shaft, making you itch and twitch violently in her mouth. And when she lifts her mouth to let you get some breathing room? She’d squeeze her lips around your swollen tip, creating that wet seal like a vacuum. A vacuum to suck out every single drop of your essence, all that juice you were saving since you last released yourself two weeks ago because your girlfriend allowed you to touch her in exchange of a new purse.
“Fuck, Sullyoon, I’m... I’m close.” You groan painfully, because Sullyoon is now ruthlessly drawing circles with the tip of her tongue around your slit, the most sensitive part of your cock.
Sullyoon doesn’t say anything, instead she responds to you by giggling your full, ready-to-go balls with her small hands. Seconds later, the sensation starts to become unbearable. Sullyoon doesn’t stop, she violently fucks you with her mouth and her tongue is dancing around the veiny cock, making sure the stimulation comes from all directions. You soon succumb.
“Fuck! Sullyoon!” You call her name in desperation, yet the pleasure sends waves after waves of heat to your stomach, and then your crotch. Your leg muscles become tense, your toes curl spontaneously and your cock twitches hard. Pumps and pumps of your hot, thick juice directly explode inside Sullyoon’s mouth. She swallows the first strand or two, as it is so strong that your cum directly travels down her throat. The aftershocks are merciless also, you can feel a pool of your semen is formed inside her warm mouth.
You manage to pull out, the tip of your length is still red and swollen, partially from Sullyoon’s lipsticks but more from the sensation that just made you ascend to heaven. You breath heavily, your shaft gradually calms down and softens. There are still a few drops of remaining juice of yours that drip down onto your stomach, but you’re too exhausted to care. You pant, fingers caressing Sullyoon’s hair as she covers her half-open mouth with her hand. You can see the mouthful of cream soup you just made inside her, and she climbs on top of you. Sullyoon pads the headboard gently, signaling you to sit up. You do so, while commenting her as the huge dose of oxytocin from your violent cumming. “Holy shit Sullyoon, your... your mouth is insane. You fucking drained me dry.”
“Ont say anyying, Cwose yaw eyes wawy.” Sullyoon grins, and you think she just told you to not say anything and close your eyes.
Ah! She is definitely going to play a magic trick! You close your eyes, and the cream soup in your mouth is gone. Yummy in her tummy. Definitely!
“Aw come on, you don’t have to be shy. It’s not the first time I see you drink it all.” You smirk like you’ve just conquered the world. How cute of a girl Sullyoon is! But you still follow her instruction like the good boy you are. Sometimes you just gotta cooperate, no?
Turns out you are very wrong.
Sullyoon claps your face playfully. And the following three things happen one by one.
Your mouth opens itself.
Your brain realizes something is off.
You open your eyes but it’s too late.
Because Sullyoon opens her mouth while winking her doe eyes directly into you, and a thick string of your own cum mixed with her saliva lands precisely to your waiting mouth.
Holy shit. Your heart sinks to your stomach as she forces your mouth open by stretching your cheeks towards opposite sides.
“What the fuck?” You mumble, but Sullyoon stops you by doing the “shhh” gesture on your lips.
“Taste it.” She orders. Voice soft, but with no room for negotiation.
You stare at her in awe, but you feel this strange urge to simply obey to everything she says. Because your body apparently knows she is the right person that you can trust. You feel safe with her. You crave for her dominance over you because you know she’s doing it not to hurt you.
So your gaze locks in with hers, and you oblige by opening your mouth wide and swallowing everything in a big gulp. “Yes...Mommy....” You realize you are hard again, and so does she.
“Good boy. Such a good boy for me.” Sullyoon then presses her lips onto yours, and you two start to exchange this wet, obscene kiss with a lot of your own cum getting involved in the process. It tastes odd, you don’t know if you like it. But you know for sure that you fucking crave the taste and texture Sullyoon’s lips.
“Mmph... Sullyoon, it feels so lewd.” You hiss during the brief moment while catching air.
“It is indeed, my baby boy... you should try it yourself so you know how fucking addictive your juice tastes. So addictive that I can never have enough of it even it’s been a few years.” Sullyoon says lovingly, her hands cupping your face like she’s getting to know you again after years of absence. “You’re doing it so well, drinking it all for me when I told you to. Look at how your own cum is still on your lips. You’re so fucking cute, my good boy~” She then wipes off a drop of your milk that went on to your lips with her finger. Without needing her to say anything, you suck it in and lick it clean obediently.
“You... you’re insane for that Sullyoon, but I have to admit... that’s hot....” You try to acquire more of that taste from her finger, she lets you.
“Look at how you’re sucking my finger like a little boy slut you are for me, I bet that bitch can never, hmm?” Sullyoon seems to quite enjoying herself as she sits on top of your chest and watches you squirming beneath her, but what she just said isn’t that enjoyable for both of you at this moment.
It was rather a brutal countdown before you all go back to your cells. “And I bet your ‘fiancé’ is letting another woman to do this to him right fucking now.” You sigh, not trying to fight back against what she just said. But more like a helpless realization that as much you feel like in paradise under the silver moonlight, in this safe little corner of the town? Next time when the sun rises… You two are converging back to your own destinies.
“Let’s not worry about that for now, babe. I wanna really feel you tonight, we’re not done yet.” Sullyoon forced a faint smile, maybe the reality recaptures her mind as well. She doesn’t feel as calm all of a sudden.
She then reaches her right hand out, planting a kiss on your forehead gently. “Take this ring off for me, good boy.” Sullyoon takes a deep breath.
“W…what? I... I can’t! I’m not supposed to.” You are surprised for her sudden request, or rather, a command.
“We are not supposed to cheat on our partners and fuck in a love hotel while drunk.” Sullyoon says, emotionlessly.
“Well, is it still the case when our so-called partners are being a dick themselves?” You sigh.
“Exactly, so say less.” She nods.
You finally agree, holding her wrist lightly and takes that diamond ring off Sullyoon’s middle finger. The moonlight reflects on the tiny diamond piece on top of the ring, but you don’t get blinded by the cold and icy light. You instead drop it onto the wooden nightstand beside you and let the ring drown in darkness.
“Good. Now we do it. Old ways.” Sullyoon smiles like you just took a big burden away from her.
“Aw, come on! I thought I can finally get some control!” Seeing her smile eases the anxiety deep inside you as well, you joke. Well, because the old ways you two had on bed? Basically, Sullyoon decided how much and in what ways she uses you.
Honestly? You needed this. Because you come to the realization where the hottest control isn’t forced. It should be mutual, and voluntary. You let Sullyoon take the lead, or rather, you WANT her to do so. More or less because you trust her so much that even she’s the one on top, she will always make sure to make it feel good for you. Maybe it was the lovely praises every ten seconds, maybe it was the cuddles and the fluffy aftercare she did with you.
But those were what made you feel safe and loved, not like how you are owing someone money or your freedom for every thrust she “allows” you to. Of course, this “someone” in context is definitely your current girlfriend. She makes you feel like sex is a trade, but Sullyoon let you understand it is about mutual affection and respect.
“Come on, you liked it every time.” That’s why you respond with a knowing smirk when she pulls out a condom after reaching for her purse.
“You seem to be well-prepared to fuck someone.” You tease.
“I should rather say it’s the loneliness that did stuff to me.” She peels it open, but then hesitated for a split of second. Sullyoon then throws it away, letting the latex land on the sheet. “No, I decided to actually feel you again tonight.”
“Wow, that’s a bold move. You sure that he is your future husband but I’m the father of your child?” You joke.
“I wouldn’t mind you being both, but fuck it. Just pull out in time and we’re good.” Sullyoon doesn’t wait for further ado, as she sinks herself all the way down onto your re-hardened cock in one go.
“Mmph... yes....” you let out a few mumbled subconsciously as she greets you with her wet and warm pussy. Damn, she is as tight as you remembered her to be. Maybe, just maybe, there weren’t a lot of stretching-her-open that took place in the past a few years.
“Mmph... you’re big still. Getting hard again for me, such a good boy. Uh...” Sullyoon interlocks her fingers with yours as she starts to slowly roll her hips.
Her walls clench against your cock in every angle, milking you completely. You thrust upwards, trying to chase as much friction as possible. But Sullyoon decides how much you can get; her weight is all slammed down on you after the slow motion of she releasing you almost to the tip before sitting back down.
Your cock gets harder than the first climax, as the familiar feeling of her pussy is back again. You close your eyes, trying to feel her body as your ex is riding your cock in such an agonizing fashion.
“Oh yes... I can feel it; I can feel your cock spreading me so well. It’s doing a good job for its mommy, Mmph...” Sullyoon’s voice is like a drug, assaulting your already horny brain.
“Fuck... yes, you’re so tight. I... I can’t last long if you keep milking me like this, shit...” you say between your teeth, enjoying how Sullyoon’s tight walls are clenching around you. Your fingers are still locking with hers, Sullyoon’s hands are a bit cold, but her folds are like s torch that’s lighting up a fire down below.
“Holy, you’re so big... going in so deep.” Sullyoon moans, as your length pounds deep into her every time she sinks down. “Mmph... g... gonna cum!” She lets out a few breathy moans as she releases one of your hands and starts rubbing her clit with her fingers.
“Damn, you’re so freaking tight. Come for me Sullyoon-Ah, give me all. I missed it so bad.” You groan, as your hips trying their best to match the accelerating rhythms of the wet slapping sound of Sullyoon riding you.
Her body jolts as her fingers are practically dancing on her swollen clit. You can feel how much wetter she is getting, her juice keeps crating that lubrication and makes friction almost non-existent. Your cock slides in and out of her pussy with ease, each time you thrust, her walls spasm and squeeze you tighter.
“So... so good. C... coming!” Sullyoon lets out a few mumbled words as she bites her lips to try to resist the flood of upcoming pressure. But she soon gives in to the sensation from both of her fingers in her clit and your cock that’s stuffed deep inside her.
She slams down on you for the one last time and she comes. Her pussy pulses rhythmically and releases her own juice while wrapping around your cock, her nails dig deep into the skin on the back of your hand.
But you don’t feel any pain, not when you see the prettiest face in pure pleasure and when you hear the loveliest hymn on this world, namely Sullyoon’s quite but satisfied hums.
“Holy fuck, that was intense.” She lifts herself off of you, her own juice dripping down to your stomach in a thick string. Your cock is glistening from Sullyoon’s climax, waiting for its turn to release your pleasures.
Sullyoon lies down beside you, praising you with her usual calm and soft tone. “Good boy, you stretched me open so well... I came right on your cock and it felt so fucking good. You’ve earned your reward, now it’s your turn to come.” Sullyoon says.
“Mmph... yes, Sullyoon-Ah. I wanna come so bad.” You mutter.
“You get to choose where you wanna finish on. My tits? My face? You pick.” She seems satisfied.
“Your face. Holy shit. I wanna paint your pretty face, Sullyoon-ah. The prettiest face I’ve ever seen.”
“Okay~ then give mommy a facial with your filthy seeds. Now kneel and pump yourself, baby boy~” Sullyoon knows exactly how to set you on fire, especially when she inserts her dominance with such an adorable, seemingly innocent face.
“Yes...” you oblige, sitting up and getting onto your knees sideways on the bed. Beneath you, Sullyoon lies on her back and her face is right below your cock. You start stroking, as Sullyoon’s flawless face just simply turns you on.
“Nice, now describe what you see~ and remind me, who owns this cock? Hehehe” She darts her tongue out, giving your frenulum a slow lick. That’s enough to drive you totally crazy, you thrust rapidly into your own hand pussy. Filthy words are leaving your lips without control as you are a goner in front of her gorgeous frame.
“Fuck... Sullyoon, I’m all yours. Everything. Fuck.” You curse out loud as just how her flawless face is right in front of you, waiting for you to paint her with your very own milk. Her cheeks are pink from the arousal, the eyeliner is leaving a faint mark on both sides of her eyes from her gagging on your cock earlier. But Sullyoon’s eyes are always the most alluring. Her face is so small in size, only slightly longer than your fully erected length. But gosh, her doe eyes. They always wink at you in the most innocent way possible, well, even when she’s feeding you your own cum or pinning your wrists to the walls.
“Y... your face? I’ll never forget it in my entire fucking life. Sullyoon-Ah, your eyes alone are enough to make me fall for you. Holy...” the lewd thoughts pushed your right hand to pump harder and faster, while Sullyoon simply lies there in her back, looking at you endearingly with a smug grin on her face.
“Good boy~ I love it when you’re being so honest. Now you earned it, let me help you get there. Hands on your back, no more touching yourself.” Sullyoon smirks, as she takes over and starts stroking your leaking cock again with her soft hands.
“Mmph.... fuck.” You try your best to follow Sullyoon’s instruction and tug your arms to the side of your body. But your hips are losing control and bucking forward on their own, because Sullyoon keeps scratching your sensitive, swollen head with her manicured nails. You feel so itchy, precum keeps leaking out of your slit. You feel like you’re walking in a maze blindfolded, it’s so thrilling because you don’t know when Sullyoon is going to give you your release.
“So... itchy, more please...” You groan, thrusting into her hand just to chase for any more possible frictions. But Sullyoon simply switches being drawing circles on your tip with her nails and rubbing your frenulum. “Watch our baby boy, if you thrust too hard? What if my nails ‘accidentally’ go into your little slit here? I never knew you like sounding, hmm?” She teases as your entire body freezes besides your twitching cock, you’re not ready to accept foreign objects into your penis. Yet.
“Hmm... please, I... I just wanna come so bad.” You beg, despite you know for a fact that Sullyoon likes it when you fall for her.
“Okay~ maybe I’ll let you, you’ve been a good boy for me tonight.” She spits onto her hand, finally starting to actually pump your entire shaft instead of scratching you and making you beg.
“Yes, oh yes... just like that.” Your eyes shut closed, breath hitching. You feel the muscles around your thigh and stomach start to tighten, and your back arches forward. You gradually pick up your speed and fuck into Sullyoon’s wet, smooth hand and it doesn’t take long for the pleasure to overwhelm you.
“Cum for me, baby boy... give me all of the juice that you’ve been saving up. Paint my face with your seeds. Mmph yes~” Sullyoon keeps stroking you fast, and as you thrust deep into her hand pussy for one more time, you cum for a second time.
Ropes after ropes of your white juice splash directly onto Sullyoon’s waiting face. The first shot is not as strong and it dribbles down onto her cheek, mixing with her makeups and it just looks extra lewd. The second wave is much stronger, as they go pass her hand and land on her chest. The rest of them pretty much all land on her hand and dripping down along her wrist.
“Holy fuck... that was intense.” You breathe deeply, not even bothering for your numbing legs for kneeling there too long. Sullyoon looks at her cum-covered hand and she puts it right in front of her face. She sniffs, then licks it off her hand with a mischievous smirk on her face. “Tastes so good, can’t let them go to waste.” Sullyoon then pads your head softly, “Come one baby boy, you look so empty. Hehehe.”
You exhale, lying down on her side. Your head resting near her shoulder like you always did back in the days. She rests her hand on your face; you instinctively take in her fingers into your mouth and licks your remaining juice on her. “Sullyoon... you’re unreal. I wanna just cuddle with you until sunrise.” You wrap your arms around her petite body with perfect curves, whispering into her ear gently.
“Still my good boy, aren’t ya? But I think we need to take a shower first, and we can cuddle and sleep until we wake up. You down?” Sullyoon brushes your hair with her fingers, offering you to extend the short-lasting freedom overnight.
“Hell yeah, bet ‘they’ won’t be back to town until later, huh?” You sigh, implying your girlfriend who’s maybe flirting some rich guys in a bar. And as well as her fiancé, maybe having a late-night conversation with one of his important clients.
“Thanks for reminding me, almost left my ring on the nightstand.” Sullyoon reaches for her ring as she stands up and goes to the bathroom. “Together?”
“Hell yeah.” You follow her in.
The warm steam soon fogs up the mirror, you stare into the reflection of the two former lover birds. But all you see is how the two silhouettes are fading into the haze until your faves become blurry and totally unrecognizable.
“Fuck it, we have until tomorrow.” You slam on the sink, turning around to join Sullyoon in the shower room. Which, her curves are still that alluring even in the mist.
“I know what you’re thinking. I guess we both have some serious, potential proposals to consider. Hmm?” Sullyoon hums as you squeeze through the ajar glass door and hugs her from behind.
“I... I don’t know, Sullyoon-Ah. I just wanna hug you like this for now.” Your head feels like a mess from the violent double release and the alcohol no long before that. So you simply rest your chin on her shoulder and apply soap all over Sullyoon’s body.
“If that’s what you want, then sure. You’re still my baby boy.” Sullyoon turns to plant a kiss on your face.
The warm and relaxing shower ends amidst a lot of casual conversations and washing-each-other-clean, you take one single towel from the shelf and warps both of you around it.
You two stumble your way back to the large bed and tacitly fall onto the soft mattress at the same time.
“I wanna hug you tight when I fall asleep.” Sullyoon stares into you, saying so softly.
“You’re saying like I don’t want to. Come on.” You take the towel off your bodies, leaning sideways like she does and you pull her close so tight that you two almost melt into one.
“Hmmph...” Sullyoon hums happily, putting her leg on top of yours to lock you in place.
“I kinda love you.” You say, pressing your lips onto hers. You feel her warmth and her scents, burying your face into her neck like she’s about to vanish into the night sky out of the window. Your fingers trace down her spine, feeling her curves, letting her soft body and alluring scent wrap around your fragile mind after this crazy night.
The kiss never ended before sleep claims both of you, both of you dreaming of each other in peace, feeling safe and warm like never before.
Sullyoon becomes your bride. She wears the whitest wedding gown, walking down the aisle while her soft hands held tight in yours. You look at the guests, who are your family members and your old friends. They all smile and give you their highest regards, celebrating you like you’re the new king taking the throne. You nod your head smugly, greeting every one of your friends.
But you turn over to Sullyoon.
She is not smiling. She’s crying so helplessly, so fragile.
You see two drops of tears running down her gorgeous face, her makeup is a mess. Her eyes are red, but she’s gripping your hands so tight that you cannot pull them away from her.
“W… what is up? Sullyoon-ah?” You panic, trying to hold her in place. But you look down and see she’s floating away; your fingers lose the final bit of strength. Her small hands soon get out of your reach.
“No!!! Sullyoon!” You scream, but on her fingers, there is only her engagement ring. It is not the wedding ring you put on for her just now; it was the engagement ring from her fiancé.
“Don’t forget me!” She begs.
“No! Don’t leave me alone, Sullyoon-ah!” You jump up to try to reach for her, but instead you find yourself sitting up on the love hotel bed. Your whole body is sweating, a clear wet mark with the shape of your body is still on the thin sheets.
You rub your eyes with the back of your hands, and open them wider to try to see where Sullyoon went. You swear the last time you were conscious, she was in your embrace, her face still blushing from the sex and she tried to hide in your arms like a kitten sleeping in peace. Now? You have no idea.
The bathroom? Lights are not on. Her ring you put on the nightstand? Missing in action. But instead, there is this thin piece of paper that you suspect is a letter from Sullyoon.
You push away the pencil on top, turning on the lamp on the nightstand so you can read – Sullyoon closed the curtains when she left, so you didn’t get waken up by the bright sunlight outside of the window.
“Hey dear,
You get instantly shocked by the title, but you proceed anyways.
“As you might see, I left.”
Well… of course, you say to yourself.
“Last night was fun, or I should rather say, relieving and liberating. I had to admit that I was a bit drunk so things got a little wild, but in a very good way. I woke up just now and saw you were hugging me tight with a big stupid smile on your face, I freaking liked it. And please forgive me that I took a picture of you as a souvenir. Kek… hope HE doesn’t find out. But I guess he won’t even bother to? L.O.L.
Anyways. I think it was time for me to go, because I saw there were at least three digits of unread messages and two dozen of calls from your girlfriend. Nah, I didn’t TRY to figure it out, but it was your phone screen that’s been lighting up every thirty seconds. Good news is, she didn’t demand to know where you are immediately. Glad that she still remembers you were drinking last night, so she said to call her back when your hangover is gone.
As much I enjoyed every second of last night in this little room, and as much I felt blessed to get to see you and feel you again, I think it’s time to say goodbye. I joked about how it is still not too late for us to break the prison and make a run towards the liberty, I realized how the obligation is just too strong to break apart.
I loved you, and maybe I still do. I waited for you for years, thinking if you would still come back to me after you aced your academics in Seoul. But maybe it was the loneliness and uncertainty that broke me? Now I am some other guy’s fiancé. He is not as good as you, I can promise.
I tried to text you, but I think your ‘dear’ girlfriend removed every female’s contact info on your phone so it shows up as a new number on your end. I guess maybe is a signal for both of us to… let go? So I deleted the message and hope it didn’t make you in trouble.
Maybe I don’t have the right to say this, but I truly wish you good luck. And I originally wanted to write, ‘don’t forget me’… but? I realized maybe it would be better, or I should say, easier if you do. Either way, we’re good.
-Yours,
Sullyoon.
Your hands are trembling violently to the point where the letter paper almost slips through between your fingers. You bury your face into your hands, wanting to cry but don’t really know what you SHOULD feel.
Yeah, Sullyoon that you two can break up with your partners and get back together. But she was drunk, so were you. The realization hits hard because it is sometimes a little bit more difficult than just cutting off someone and move on. At this moment, you finally come to the realization that both Sullyoon and yourself know what is the best outcome for you two.
But neither of you had the courage to turn around and face your past mistakes.
You take out the remaining pack of cigarette, lighting up one with ease. You take a deep inhale, trying to let the nicotine give you some comfort, but it only hurts more. You cough, tears flowing out of your eyes. You try to fool yourself that it is because of the smoke, not your emotions.
You sit under the faint glow of the lamp and the dancing flaming of the lighter. You approach it closer to the letter, hoping that the fire with catch the paper and then? The past becomes ash, and you bury it yourself to go back to the shitty present.
But you vaguely see something on the back side of the paper, you then try to stop the spark by blowing air to it. It is still too late.
Your hand lets go of the burning paper, and amidst the igniting sparks? You see a faint scribble of notes. It is Sullyoon’s hand writing. You’ll never in this life forget about it.
“And oh, since I’m not here with you anymore. Smoke less, it’s better for your health.”
The dam is broken.
You dash to the window and swings it open in desperation.
“Sullyoon-ah!!! I… I’ll get through this with you!!! Please!!! Come back!!!” You scream from the bottom of your lung, while crying like a baby with a burning cigarette still between your fingers.
Several pedestrians look up and give you weird looks, but there is this one girl amongst them who doesn’t lift her head and look above.
Instead, she puts the hood of her jacket up and sobs like she just recalls something super sad. She tugs her arms into her chest, despite it is not even that cold outside. It is a morning, but looking like a winter midnight for her. She walks further and further into the crowd, with you shouting like a mad man with a broken heart in the love hotel, head peeking out of the window.
The letter had been burnt into ashes, just like the relationship between you and Sullyoon. You reach out for your phone beside the pillows, trying your absolute best to recall Sullyoon’s number on top of your head.
“Damn it! Just tell me the number!” You smack your own head in frustration, but even so won’t magically make you remember Sullyoon’s phone number. Not if your girlfriend deliberately removed every possible trace of Sullyoon and other girls on your phone.
You are about to light up another cigarette, but your hands stop in the middle because of Sullyoon. Yes. She’s not with you anymore, but she wants you to smoke less for your health.
You stop. Not necessarily trying to become healthier, it is for her. It is your way to yearn the lost one by trying to follow her even after she’s disappeared.
You stare at your phone screen, more than a hundred notifications from the same person - as Sullyoon suggested. But you still have to deal with it, so you dial up your girlfriend’s number.
“Hey! Baby~ you finally woke up!” She sounds surprisingly excited and... soft?
“Oh... hey! Yeah... Hangover, you know? Drank a bit too much of Soju with my old brothers last night. Turns out I woke up in one of their living rooms!” You fake an engaging and sincere tone, meanwhile commending your own lie-scripting skills has a huge improvement.
“Aw~ that’s fine, as long as it was not with other girls! You know, I like loyal boys. Hehe.” You don’t know why as much as she tries to be cute, you know she’s just waiting for the right timing to take what she wants from you.
And it is exactly like that.
“Ah don’t worry, we are all guys. Imma, um... ask them if I can take a shower and I’ll head back to my place. Fuck! This hangover is giving me headaches.” You fake another excuse, but the emptiness and hollowness from your voice are not from acting.
“Actually? I wanted you to make a run to the mall! I sent you a picture earlier, a guy in the party bought that to his girlfriend! I want one too! I know you love me and you’re so kind, I’ll be so happy if I can see one waiting for me tomorrow when I’m back!”
Well, turns out a “get well soon” is too much for her to say before asking you to do her another “favor”. You always say yes without hesitation, but this time? Maybe, just maybe. You want to have a choice.
“Oh? Really? I thought you’re coming back today! I already bought that hand cream for ya!” You test the water, but of course you were fucking Sullyoon last night instead of getting the item your girlfriend wanted for her.
“Good. But they extended the party! It’s so fun, me and my besties are having a good time here so why not? This guy’s house is literally like a mansion; he must be so rich.” She sounds more excited by now when she’s talking about the parties.
“Oh! Good to know.” You cut her off before she goes on for another hour just to flex how her besties’ boyfriends spend for them and get everything they wanted. “I’ll DEFINITELY not let you down tomorrow, see you.”
“Uh ok, bye!” Beep.
You smirk, knowing you just had the final straw you need to make a decision. But you look at the ash of the letter paper, knowing the optimal ending is not achievable anymore. At least you are ready to break free.
You open the picture your girlfriend sent you, and of course it is a designer’s purse. And of course, even though price tag is similar to your wage? She’s still comfortable asking for it like you owe her.
You sigh.
Meanwhile, somewhere across the city.
Sullyoon unlocks her apartment door with her shaky fingers. The crisp sound of the key drags her back to reality, only for her to realize her hands are as cold as the metal door handle.
Sullyoon takes off her light jacket and throws it onto the couch. She flicks the switch on and the warm, orange lights shower her bedroom.
Sullyoon sniffs, it smells clean. Too clean. To an extent that a sane person would know she’s lying when she says there are two people living in this room.
She isn’t. Maybe there are SUPPOSED to be two people that are inhabiting in this neat bedroom, preparing for their grand wedding. But there is just Sullyoon herself. She stares at the ring that she put back on while walking out of the hotel room, she gets speechless.
Sullyoon pours herself a cup of water to ease the discomfort for sobbing all the time on her way from the love hotel back to her place. She could’ve called a taxicab, but she ended up walking. Maybe Sullyoon wanted the cool morning air to wake her up from the lucid dream; to be the alarm for her to go back to her life. Maybe.
She reaches out to her phone in her purse, the very same purse she had been using since the first anniversary of you two. You bought her this, she didn’t ask for it. But you gifted it to her regardless because you knew she deserved the best from you.
There is ten digits already entered in the New Contact in the Message menu, but she first calls her fiancé.
As expected, Voicemail.
“Baby, I still have another very important meeting later tonight and my KPI is on the line. I’ll probably just nap at the office; you can lock the door.”
It took another fifteen minutes for the final hammer to slam down onto the table, making the final verdict for Sullyoon.
She takes a deep breath, then her fingers start dancing on the screen of her phone like she has the script ready to go with a relieved smirk on her baby face.
——————
You had been sitting on the floor in the hotel room for an hour already. You stare at the black screen of the TV that you didn’t even turn on. You’re telling yourself that you are just waiting. Waiting for what? You don’t even know.
Maybe you simply need some time to swallow and digest everything. Gotta eat it up even if it gets stuck between your teeth.
“Ding!”
You groan in impatience as your girlfriend seems like she wants to keep pushing you until you send her the receipt of that purse she wants, with whatever French or Italian names on the logo. All looks the same for you though.
Turns out it is very wrong.
And you’re glad that you made the wisest decision of not dismissing this one single notification.
It is a single line of message from a new number. It is just... this new number doesn’t seem quite new to you.
“Coffee? 2. Need to talk. -S.”
Your fingers can’t afford the weight of this message; you let your phone drop to the carpet. You know precisely the meaning of this, every single fucking letter. Your exhausted brain immediately triggers the fight or flight response; doses of adrenaline rush up your spine.
Your feel shivers all over your body.
Sullyoon? More like your savior.
You stare at your tiny phone screen, kneeling on the carpet. You stretch your arms, looking at the ceiling. You feel like Andy Dufresne showering in the rain of freedom after breaking out of the Shawshank and sets himself free.
You almost run a dash to the family-owned coffee two blocks away, she didn’t tell you which place specifically she wants to meet. But? If she is not doing this where the daily coffee date happened back then? You’d rather accept your destiny.
You try to calm yourself down through the adrenaline spike, but you feel the heat in your stomach starts to become unbearable. You take a quick glance at your phone; you have about an hour. Maybe your girlfriend is expecting you to put the address of that luxury mall into the map and get there asap. Instead, you smile at the monitor, with a sense of lightness that you are just excited to pick up again. You don’t need navigation to the place where you truly want to go.
A quick shower and you walk out of the hotel room feeling fresh. You check-out at the front desk, being told by the staff that “a young lady” had paid for your room.
You grin grows even wider; a drop of tear slides down of your face.
You close your eyes, take a deep breath and walk out of the hotel lobby.
The weather doesn’t change magically because Sullyoon shot you a text. You feel the chill morning breeze brushing through your face. Your heart is still pounding in your chest like it is about to break free. You’re not sure if it’ll actually happen – but you clearly know you are ready to tear the cage apart and welcome a new future.
It is indeed inaccurate to say if you have never thought about the “what if” part of the message. Maybe Sullyoon thought about the letter and felt like she should at least give you a proper farewell in-person. Or maybe it is not actually Sullyoon but it is just coincidence that another random person sent a random message to another stranger, and you just happen to be that guy.
You try to draw your attention away from this matter entirely, your feet go on auto-pilot and your gaze lock on to the city skyline under the warm orange sunlight. What a Golden Hour to be alive… even if the ending is not the one you are dreaming of? At the very least, you gained the courage to correct what’s wrong.
You intentionally slowed down, so the usual twenty-minute walk becomes forty. Even so, Sullyoon is already there, at the quiet corner table that you two always picked.
You gulp nervous, not exactly knowing what to feel. So, you take a deep breath and draw a cross in front of your chest. It is time to figure out.
Sullyoon sees you, and she nods at you at peace. She had changed their outfit apparently; her petite frame is now wearing a plain white dress and a straw hat. You remember she wore this exact dress in your first date, in that library.
You sit down at the opposite side, giving her a warm and peaceful smile.
“Su…” You want to say something, only for her to quietly say “Shhh” and her finger is on her pink, pouty lips again.
Sullyoon reaches her right hand forward, the ring is still on her finger, like the final barrier before you can have your destined one into your embrace.
Then, she starts to do something that almost makes you cry on the spot.
Sullyoon starts to slowly remove the engagement ring off her middle finger. Agonizing. Performative. It took her almost an entire minute before she sets it on the wooden table of the coffee shop. She smiles at you, warm and relieved, like the type of smile like she’s finally at peace after getting imprisoned by a toxic relationship.
At this exact moment, your phone rings again. The buzzing sound draws attention from one or two customers nearby, but you know it is the time.
You exaggeratedly put your index finger above your head, and then presses the red button on your monitor for the first time in months.
“Hey!”
“Why did you hang up my call?”
“Where are you”
The triplet of follow-up message arrives at your phone with in ten seconds.
But you hold your phone right before Sullyoon, giving her a knowing smirk.
You then tap your girlfriend’s profile picture.
You go to her contact info.
“BLOCK”
Your shoulders drop, after months of tension and endless control. Sulllyoon stands up from her seat, and so do you. Neither of you said anything since you entered the coffee shop, but it was more than enough. More than enough to reunite two broken souls.
You lean across the table to kiss her cheek, and Sullyoon lets you. A faint shade of pink climbs up to her face, and she is just cute like the first time you met her.
You pull something out of the pocket and just drop them onto the table, before holding Sullyoon’s hand and walking out of the tiny place where the college dates took place.
You feel her cold but soft hands in your palm, maybe sometimes it is easier to go on with less things. The coffee shop owner will find a ring, half pack of cigarettes and a lighter on her table. But she is not the only who needs to take care of her Loss & Found business.
You and Sullyoon too. For losing, but fortunately enough, finding each other back after some messy drama. You know the future is going to be messy, but at least you both have the best partner possible to fight through every step of it. You are pretty sure she knows it too, right as she rests her head on your wide shoulder.
You quitted nicotine.
You challenged the taboos.
You both crossed the forbidden boundary.
All, because you can never quit a girl that you truly love.
It's not that you're going to stop writing, but this page regardless has all your growth since 8 years ago and seeing all your fic in the masterlist brings back memories.
Apart from just reading, I've always enjoyed sending asks to talk about your works, even just answering my asks always makes my day, so I also want to take this opportunity to send the last ask to say thank you for everything on tumblr. 🥲
Your page's been a familiar place for me on tumblr and I will often revisit your page if i need a dose of nostalgia.😌
Funny enough, your initial asks were ghosts in my inbox for months for whatever reason and they just all showed up one day. I always enjoyed seeing new wony or yujin pics, or getting to hear your thoughts, despite me being bad at answering all your wonderful asks. So thank you for every single one of them.
And yeah, it's kind of crazy to take a step back, look at my absurd masterlist thats a time capsule of sort. Of all the different eras ive gone through. All the writers and readers that have existed in those same eras. <3
All your grievances and qualms are valid. Always has been.
I still don't understand why the need to be exclusive on that platform. You yourself have been crossposting in AO3 before all this.
It's not that the goal is to be "exclusive", but more so that every time I come back here, it's just a goddamn trash fire. More bad UI changes, some creepy ass fic that has no right existing but because there's only one intern that works on moderation it stays up for months and months—
That's not even being hyperbolic. I got sent this in May of this year from a report I made last fucking year.
So again, it's less being exclusive, and I just don't want to support this platform anymore. I don't want to put in the effort to update my ridiculous masterlist every single time (and also there just are fics that just won't work on this platform). I don't want to upload my fics to a platform that changes their UI to something horrendous because the one UX guy on contract has to change something every five mins or he'll quit.
Moderation is ass, UI is ass, posting is ass, the entire experience is ass. Not to say there aren't things I prefer, but this site is sideshow bob stepping on a rake and hitting themself in the face over and over.
I don't really post on AO3 anymore. My last fic was in march, and that was just trying to update fics from last year. I haven't touched AFF in three+ years, but nobody really cared.
I do feel bad, because I always liked the idea of crossposting on several sites to give everyone options. But now? I just can't be fucked. And I'd rather be on a platform that respects its userbase. It's as simple as that.
Tumblr was great. The eight or so years or however the fuck long I've been on here. Going from literally nothing (I sure as hell didn't have two dozen known people reblogging my debut fics, not that I'm angry about it), to over 16k followers is a crazy number. It's actually unfathomable.
Building a following, getting that first ask, getting a second, a third, and then years later having an inbox stuffed with 50+ asks is wild. It's a weird feeling to be "popular", even if that popularity is just for writing smut.
It's great having a fanbase, having dedicated readers send you love, wonderful messages, praising your latest work, whatever it is. Even if you get the occasional weirdo or some smelly entitled fuckhead.
Until it isn't.
Until 16k stops feeling like 16k. Until all your hard work stops feeling rewarding, because you no longer get the modicum of feedback you wish for. Because your fics go literal days without a single person saying "hey, peach, I really liked this. Thanks for writing it."
Nothing. When the pendulum swings the other way, it makes you think. If you've put out bad content, if you're just washed up, if what you put out isn't enjoyable anymore.
Now you could say, hey peach, shut the fuck up, all of your fics get 1k notes. Stop whining.
Sure, most of them do. That wasn't always the case, either. But what exactly does that number even mean? That a small portion of those 16k people click a button (which is always appreciated), but besides that, not a whole lot. Watching the number go up is fun, but it doesn't do much.
A big number doesn't mean that a large portion enjoyed it. It doesn't even mean that a large portion even read it. The asks don't come in, even before. The comments don't either,
So once the frustrations start to boil up, we have the need to move elsewhere. But where? Wattpad? Hell no. AO3? Doesn't quite have the community. Asianfanfics is outdated, ugly, barely has a tag system, and suffers from many of the same problems. Where else?
That's where Fanprose comes in. Some of you are rolling your eyes already, and that's fine. I'm not here to shill because I feel like that's been done enough. But it offers a vastly superior experience. For both writers and readers. I can see in real time what people think of something I've posted. I get hundreds of comments on a single fic, whereas I'd be lucky to break double digits here.
It's hard to feel like its worth posting here anymore. Not that I write just to farm comments, but It's hard to feel any real motivation when it's the same thing over and over. Spend hundreds of hours writing, rewriting, editing, only to release something into the void. Where it felt like seemingly nobody gave a shit anymore.
Writing should always be for yourself first, but if you're posting for an audience of thousands, and nobody else has anything to say about it, what's the point?
So if the options are stay on tumblr, hate yourself, hate your writing, potentially hate your audience, give up on your hobby—and then the alternative is the exact opposite in every single way, why wouldn't you want to go there? And stay there. Not stay on a platform that isn't safe, that deletes accounts based off egregious false reports, and awful, awful UI changes, one that gets threatened by weirdos who try to gatekeep smut of all things. Along with a myriad of other problems that will never, ever be fixed, because this site is lucky it survives another year.
Fanprose has reignited that spark to write in a way I thought would never happen. The same way I felt during my rookie year, where I was putting out multiple fics a week, not one every few months. And I'll be eternally grateful for that.
If you've been here from the beginning, if you followed last year, last month, last Saturday—thank you. I'm sure most of this isn't news to anyone given my lack of anything, but I've made the decision to detach myself fully from this platform. Ningning will be my last posted fic, and I'm not even sure if enough people are left to read this post judging by the post count (not just me, on everyone.)
I appreciate and love you all, from the bottom of my heart, especially those that have been with me on this journey from day one. I hope to see you all on Fanprose if you aren't there already, and I'd strongly suggest giving it a shot if you haven't. I have a newly released annyeongz fic that I'm very proud of that I'd love for you to check out.
Hope you have been well peach, I have been a long time fan and have enjoyed your works. I hope you are able and continue to write since all your works have been amazing. I really enjoyed the Yeji piece recently cause it was different than what you have done before! Do you have any series/works you don't think you'll ever finish/regret not continuing whether it be due to lack of interest?
Hello anon, and thank you <3
Really enjoyed Yeji for the reasons you said, something different, something new, something I told myself I would never write but here we are...
At this point, almost every series that isn't IVL is in danger of not being finished. Tastes change just like the weather, and it's hard to commit to something if the spark isn't there. I would love to finish the iz*one detective series, or at least do one more chapter to try and progress the story, but who knows. I'd love to write at least a JiU fic for dreamcatcher office, but it's all about what's planned, and what I have time/energy for.
You can't keep coming home to this—close to midnight, front door left swinging open and every light from the entrance to the kitchen switched on. It's fucked up how you're hoping you've been robbed, or that a serial killer is waiting around the corner to put you in the dirt, but instead it's much, much worse.
Ningning, leaning against your fridge, helping herself to a glass of milk.
"You're late," you hear, followed by, "Date went well then?"
Yeah, the best possible thing you could do is ignore her, open your apartment window, and throw yourself out. Or, better yet, pick her up, and toss her instead, or fuck, get your hands around her throat and squeeze—if only you weren't certain that she'd be so happy when you did, that she’d lift an eyebrow, flash that smug grin, all delighted that you've added a new dimension to whatever doomed tangle the two of you are in, and say:
"Didn't know you had it in you."
So you just slump.
Drop your bags, your jacket on the floor—whatever, you'll get to them later. Walk past her, like if you don't acknowledge her existence you can delay the inevitable for a touch longer, stop her from digging any deeper into your brain. But if there's anything you know about Ningning—she has all the patience in the world.
Happy to keep raiding your kitchen, letting the milk sit on her lips, timing it to the exact second you slip up and look her way—then licking it clean with one swipe of her tongue.
You ache more than you'd ever willingly admit.
Not that she'd have any trouble making you.
It’s who she is: Queen of dark corners and thick fucking air that suffocates your lungs. A tiny little nightmare half your size, always one careless glance away from splitting you open like it’s nothing.
She doesn’t even need to try.
Hair a messy shawl down to her shoulders, lips a light pink hue. Traces of eyeshadow, curled lashes, chipped nail polish. She clearly had something far more important to deal with earlier—you're just another box to check off today’s to-do list.
She pushes off your fridge. It’s inhuman. She knows exactly where your eyes will go.
You can’t stop it, you’re staring straight at her tits the moment her body shifts—the tiny crop top clinging snug, doing obscene fucking things to all the soft weight underneath. And below all that, just a scrap of panties. Nothing else. Makes you complicit the second you look.
"Had fun playing hero?" The glass makes a hollow ring when she sets it aside. "Yuha's been blowing up the group chat since you left her—oh, forty minutes ago?"
You freeze when you reach your kitchen island. Lean back, and wait for her to come to you. It’s the only scrap of resistance you can still muster at this point.
"Sounded fun—going to the movies, holding hands in the dark, hugging her close when she got scared. Did you like the outfit she was wearing?"
It only takes one step.
She crowds you against the counter, hands planted on either side of your waist, caging you in. Even her smile is pissing you off. Her top’s cut low, and it hits you like a vision—this exact angle that's been burned behind your eyelids.
One thin strap still clings to that dainty shoulder. The collarbone you’ve licked and sucked and worshipped more times than you can count staring back at you.
And it’s slipping lower still, a small shift and the whole top will give—tits spilling free, nipples begging for your mouth.
She leans in, a whisper sticking against your skin that she stamps in with a kiss. "I helped pick it out for her, you know."
Your breath catches. You groan. You need to move, shove her away, tell her that this needs to end tonight; the guilt, the depravity is a mountain looming over any blackmail she hangs over your head.
But you can't do anything. Not until you have her permission.
Instead your hips twitch towards her, and your cock strains underneath your pants, hitting her belly like a trained dog.
She pushes forward, a shoulder into your sternum, backing you up as far as you can go into the countertop, and reaches down.
Her fingers skate up the inside of your thigh, and the strap of her top drifts down until she's exposed and she doesn't seem to mind at all.
No, she's flawless. Devastating. Pushes her body against yours and her tits are so full and plush and squash against your chest and you need her to fucking stop before—
She squeezes you tight, and you inhale sharp, choking on her scent.
And it fucks you up, because she smells exactly like Yuha.
"Yeah," she says, twisting her wrist, her grip, careless with how she fists your cock, your balls through your slacks. "She let me borrow her perfume as a thank you.”
Ningning leans, grinding the fragrance deeper down your throat.
“Isn't she so nice? Isn't this so nice? You get to think about her while you're with me."
She doesn't expect an answer.
But it drives you mad—she tilts her head so you can see how it clings to her; her throat, her collarbone, her tits. It’s sweet, it’s soft. It’s wrong. It makes your cock throb.
And you'd touch her, reach for her, run your hands over that smooth skin, the soft curves; take a handful of her in your palms and squeeze her right back, twist that nipple and tell her you can dole out the same amount of punishment—but Ningning drives her shoulder into you again, fists clenching around you, and pulls, and it's with deft hands and practiced fingers that your belt clinks open, the button and the zipper fall apart with it.
"Turn around."
For the first time, you manage some small protest. "Yizhuo."
She smiles at that, tricks you into thinking it’s fond. Glances low and yanks down your briefs. Frees your cock and lets it slap against her palm. Hard, throbbing, undeniable evidence of everything she does to you.
And she is—what the fuck is she to you? Your girlfriend's friend. Her senior, her pseudo-older sister.
Your client. Or, your boss.
Or just—she's the person that caught you sneaking around backstage—bored, horny, stupid.
You're the help, security—company’s hired muscle. Already neck-deep in the shit by dating Yuha; and you dug your grave and carved your own tombstone the second Ningning caught you in their dressing room—panties smothered over your face, cock in your fist, chasing a peak you couldn’t quite summit.
That was the first time you gave her everything she wanted.
She was smiling then too. Like she'd been waiting for the excuse.
She looks back up at you, fixated on your lips.
"Yizhuo?" She mocks you, and reaches up with her other hand, pressing it to your lips. You let her in, as easy as you let her into your home, let her force two fingers in until you gag, until she has you choking on her digits when they tickle the back of your throat.
She twists her fingers in your mouth, has you drooling down them, leaving them slick with your own spit.
And then she drags them out, pulls the strings of your saliva down to your cock, and runs her hand over it in one, decisive, torturous pump.
"Yizhuo is what my friends call me," she says, taking you from head to base, and slathering the underside, underneath your balls. "Are we friends now?"
You choke down another breath when she starts to stroke, achingly slow, always patient. You buckle under her gaze and it has you confessing, "No."
"I didn't think so," she tuts. "Don't make me repeat myself again. Turn around."
Ningning steps away, gives you just enough room to move. To show her your back, make yourself vulnerable to her.
Let her know she could do anything at all and you'd just take it.
And it's fucking embarrassing when she reaches around and finds you so humiliatingly hard. You know the look on your face must be even worse, because Ningning's laughing.
"My, my, my," she says, clicking her tongue against her teeth as she gets the full measure of you. Taking her time—she needs it to navigate the length of you—revelling in every second. "So hard already? You look so ridiculous in my hand."
And then:
"This would snap tiny, pretty Yuha in half," and it does its job, provokes you, but every chance of resistance is drained from you when she wrenches her hand tight and takes your cock rough from base to tip. "How nice of me, doing both of you a favour."
Your knuckles go white against the counter, there's plenty you could do, but with Ningning all you can ever manage is brace yourself—ride it out, let her have her way.
She keeps herself busy, crafting slow, deliberate strokes. Getting off on this, her skin so deliriously hot against you, burning, like she knows—knows if she twists her grip like this she can rip out something raw from your throat; knows if she rushes her palm down it'll make you hiss through your teeth.
And she knows if she squeezes and pumps you fast—filling your kitchen with these slick, messy noises, this rhythmic schlick-schlick-schlick—you'll call her name again and she'll have to bite into your shoulder and warn you: "What did I say about calling me Yizhuo?"
You close your eyes. It's just a hand—it could be any other girl, you spend your days in proximity of so many of them.
"I'm the only one for you," she tells you, finishing a thought you didn't realise she could hear. "No other girl would know how to use you right."
She pulls a moan out of you when she palms your tip, smearing the beads there, before gliding her hand down—and you hate that it sounds like an affirmation.
"They wouldn’t even know where to start,” she continues on, steady torment. “They’d need you to teach them, guide their small hands, be their first big strong man.”
You open your eyes, catching her other hand tugging your pants down and under your ass; your shirt’s already unbuttoned, dropping down your shoulders and leaving your chest bare, free for her nails to mark up and dig into.
"Yuha sure as hell expects that." She laughs again and it's evil and she's on her toes now, sucking something hard into the line of your throat—and it's going to leave a mark, something you won't be able to hide, will need to explain away to your girlfriend, to the other girls, to the company in the morning, but that's the last thing in your mind when Ningning adds her teeth and makes it hurt.
"Fuck," spills out, and you're seething, seeing red, gripping into the counter so hard you could make a dent.
"You love it." She kisses into your new scar, soothes you, the sick kind of tenderness only she can grant, and it makes you bend into her, lets her fold her body over yours, and her words hit you like a healing balm, the feeling of her body slotting over yours, enveloping warmth, tits slick with sweat squashed against your back, leg hooking around your knee like she's trying to crawl inside you, lips so close to yours and reflex has you turning to meet them.
"Please."
"Just this once," she tells you, and you’re so thankful when the pace of her hand builds, and her nails start to draw a circle around your nipple, and you twist your head far enough that she can breathe in every sigh and pained gasp she drags out of you before swallowing it all in a kiss.
She leads it with her tongue, and you're falling into her, into her grip, into her mouth, into the soft wet of her lips against yours, and there's so much she's doing, forcing on you—pumping, squeezing hard, pinching, twisting your nipple, and there's something in this that you want to deny so much: her control, her promise of where she can take you, it feels so good now, she can make it feel even better later.
Until she bites into your bottom lip, and you’re tasting copper, and she pulls away.
"Baby," she says, with a last, messy peck on your chin, the strands of saliva hanging there, another binding she has on you. "You're so pathetic."
You groan when she gets close, thigh brushing the back of yours, knee splitting between your legs to keep you spread open. Grinding herself into you, forcing you still with a single hand wrapped around you, and you can hear how hot both of you are—the squelch of your spit, your slick making your cock all glossy.
Her fingers tighten—just enough to make your knees buckle. And she builds, this aching pace, she knows the rhythm, knows how to make your skin crawl.
"You're a pervert, a filthy degenerate," she lists off, breath scalding the shell of your ear. "Bet you were sweet and gentle with Yuha on your little date. Calling her baby, telling her how pretty she looks in that dress. Kissed her like a good boyfriend would."
You wouldn’t dare, it’d be fucking audacious, to read anything into it—believe there’s a twinge of jealousy there, envy at her own junior. Pure disaster. Your brain’s already too fried to untangle the implications of that anyway.
"Tell me, tell me how good you were to her," she says, and she twists on your nipple again, pierces you with her nails. "Or were you too distracted counting down the minutes until you could come crawling home to me."
"I was good," you rasp; you're barely keeping it together. There's no hiding anything now—your body, your moans, it all betrays you any time you try to do anything other than what she wants—and if that wasn't enough it's the sound of her stroking you, so goddamn loud it rings in your ears and laughs at your whines. "I am good to her."
She punishes you with these fast, brutal strokes, and snaps, "Liar. How can you say that when you love this so much?"
"I—"
But you can't finish, Ningning gives your nipple one last tug and slides her hand around your body, dragging a nail down your lower back, engraving a path that ends right at your ass, between your cheeks.
"Yizh—"
"That's the third time," she grunts, and pushes her finger against the tight ring of your asshole. "The third time you've tried to call me by my name. But that's not what you get to call me, is it?"
Something raw, something that doesn't belong to you surges from your throat when she pushes, finger tight against your rim, and it's just a fingertip inside but it has your knees banging against the marble in front of you and you're not sure what hurts worse but you're absolutely sure of what feels best.
"Don't say another fucking word, unless it's the one I want to hear," she says, and she's grinding herself harder against your leg, fucking herself on your thigh, soaked panties dragging hot and slippery over your skin. She's so warm, like a sick, twisted embrace and through the corner of your eye you can see her—the delirious grin on her face, the violent delight she's taking from you and you can't help but think it:
She's so gorgeous.
Ningning pushes until she's knuckle-deep inside you, your whole world narrowing to this single point. It’s sharp, burning, before melting into something disgustingly good as she curls it, squeezing that spot that rips the word out of you like it was always waiting underneath your tongue:
"Mommy."
And she chuckles, twists her finger, driving it all the way in, forcing you to fuck yourself deeper into her hand.
"Mommy, it's—"
"I know," she kisses it into your neck, licks it across your cheek, tastes the tears that you can't stop leaking from the corner of your eyes. "Mommy's got you."
She fucks you like this—like there's no time left, like either of you might drop dead any second now so there's only this—fucking your ass like it's the light at the end of the tunnel, having you fuck her hand just the same.
“This is all you’re good for, isn’t it?” Her breath hitches, she pants against you, wet, parted lips sliding across your cheek. “Being a good slut, a fucktoy for your Mommy, isn’t that right?”
And you’re already so far gone, air’s going thin, it’s getting worse with every press, and she just keeps pushing deeper, punishing you into this merciless pace.
“All of this—all of you. Your cock, your tight little asshole—mine, mine, mine—say it.”
“Yes—fuck—it’s yours—it’s yours—” You’re whining, exhaling hard with every stroke, there’s nowhere else to go, just do your best to tell her whatever she wants to hear. “Always been yours.”
And it's pressure building, cooking inside of you, the marks she left on you, the pain you'll remember—blood in your mouth, your shoulder, red on your chest, blooming around your asshole, she's fucking banging you into the counter now, and whatever squeeze your ass has on her finger she's matching around your cock.
"Come on, baby, just for me," she coos, and you try to close your eyes but her voice stops you in place—"Don't look away—look me in the eyes, so I can see you. See who you really are—a filthy boy who gets off on getting broken by his Mommy."
So you look, stare, see that glassy wash of pure joy, the hunger there, how she's living for this, dominating, being in control of you, punishing you with this ruthless, this rough, this brutal kind of fucking.
“Nothing will ever make you feel as good as me. You want me to make you feel so good, don’t you? Suck your worthless cock. Fuck every drop of cum out of you—take every single inch,” Ningning tells you so easily, sincerely, like it’s already planned, destined, it’s all in the cards, and—“I can do it for you, baby, I can do it all.”
She shoves her whole body into your back, fucking her finger deeper; it’s insane, all of it—her digit curling inside your ass, stretching you out, finding all sorts of angles to exploit.
“I’ve got a surprise. Mommy’s got a gift for you. A nice, big toy. A brand new cock. I’ll show my cute little slut how to really fuck.”
That makes you cry out something guttural, makes your cock throb painfully in her grip, another thick bead of you sliding over her knuckles.
“You'd love that, wouldn’t you? Love to have Mommy ruin your tight, tiny asshole. Stretch it out wide.” Ningning bites it into your ear, “Greedy.”
“Yes—please—Mommy—fuck—please—” You’re sputtering, it’s all too much, a miracle you’re still somehow coherent, just repeating the same begs, the same pleas, the same prayers because you're feeling it—feeling her everywhere. “Please—my ass—I can’t take it—”
And that's your excuse—your out, this is all just a bodily reaction, inbuilt instinct, natural chemistry, biology, whatever the fuck.
She's stroking every sensitive nerve of your cock; fucking you deep, reaching mind-numbing points you could never dream to find yourself each time she invades your asshole and god, Jesus, fuck, Mommy, she's forcing a second finger inside you, splitting you open raw and—
"Cum for me, cum on my finger, cum all over Mommy’s hand, do it for me—now."
Maybe it's not so bad that it feels so fucking good to not be ashamed, not try to hide, you can embrace who you really are around her.
Maybe it’s right to listen to her—do what she says, tell her you’ll be good and obedient for her; your body’s already ahead of you, so, so close, every nerve of yours in a chorus of agreement with how she’s fucking you.
It's for the best—it's what you need—let her have her way, let her call you her bitch, her slut, her tight, perfect hole, let her get deep in your guts, let her pull every shameful drop of cum from your cock—it's protection, it's your job, that's what it is.
You're protecting Yuha, protecting your relationship, so it's fine, it's okay, it’s okay, she can fuck you like this, make you cum, and later when she swallows your cock whole and rides you until you’re screaming, and rails your ass with her strap until you’re in tears and cumming all over her cock, you’ll be good, it’ll be over, because it's not like you need her, not like you need your—
"Mommy, I’m going to cum!"
“So cum then.”
It's a split second, like a gunshot—hot searing pain firing through your body and tearing a hole right through you—and it must look the same, it's written all over Ningning's face, hanging off the tilt of her plush lips.
All of a sudden: you're gushing, spewing cum all over her hand, shooting past her grip and her fingers go deep inside you and you're hitting the marble, splashing all over, across the bench, serving dessert for Ningning on the same counter you've prepared so many dinners for Yuha on so many nights before.
Ningning’s all over you, her full weight on you, she's been moaning in your ear this whole time, chewing up your lobe, tonguing inside, she's in your ass, she's in your fucking head, flooding your mind, telling you:
"That's it,” she coos, the praise dripping straight into the mess she’s made of you, “Keep going, keep going for Mommy, my good boy—"
And you’re gone.
It's splatter after splatter of cum across the counter, and she's pushing you into it and you would be face-first in your own release but you're somehow able to keep yourself propped up.
You cry for your Mommy one last broken, wrecked time—and everything blurs into a flash of white—painting the counter, your stomach, your open shirt, Ningning's hand.
She doesn't stop. Milks you through every pulse until your thighs shake and you're not sure you can stand on your own anymore—and you're leaning on her for support, whimpering into her shoulder, oversensitive, over-fucking-whelmed, spent dry.
Only then does she ease up.
You sob when her fingers leave your ass. Groan when her hand pulls back from your cock.
She looks at the mess, the art she's made.
Leaves you to collapse in your own heap over the counter next to it. Catch your breath.
And then she takes a small step to the right, leans forward over the counter, bending low—and drags her tongue up the island in one, long scoop. Taking care to collect every single drop, every spurt you had, getting it all on her tongue, slow and thorough, and you just lie there, heaving, cock still twitching, ass still flexing open and close, staring, hooked on her.
She takes her time, tongue dragging slow, savouring it, leaving not a single inch of the counter unclean. Reclaiming every drop you wasted on anything that isn’t her.
Then, she drops to her knees, licks a long stripe up your cock, runs a finger under your balls, over the twitching shaft, wringing out the last pathetic beads that never reached the marble.
Ningning rises, presses her cum-slick lips to your chest, slurps the rest off your skin, and hums the entire time, like it's Sunday cleaning, like you're her furniture she's putting back in order.
And when she finally gets to her feet, towering over you, eyes on yours, lips sealed shut, you realise she’s kept it all, every single drop—hasn’t swallowed once, holding it all just for this. For you.
For a second, you wait.
You open your mouth.
She drools your cum inside.
Globs of it, sticking to the inside of your mouth, salty-sweet, making you cough, gag, filling up your head with the scent of you, but you can't do anything about it because she's taking you by the chin and kissing you before you can breathe.
It's hard, it's full of her tongue, full of your cum, it's—it’s so fucking hot. It’s dirty. Almost loving. She makes you feel it, fastens her body to yours, has you collapsing to the ground and she straddles you so easily, so naturally, and it feels so right and good that it has you swelling angrily against her and you’re finding new ways to hate her all over again.
She takes your hand, fills it with her pretty tits and squeezes your palm against her, mewling into your mouth when you find a nipple and twist.
Rolling her hips against your cock, she's fucking drenched, cunt drooling all over you, and you’re bucking up to meet her, struggling against the lace she's left on but you think if you try hard enough you can rip straight through.
Her hands are in the back of your hair, and she's pulling, tugging, wrenching you closer, breathing all of you in and sucking every drop of cum back into her mouth before pushing it down your throat with her tongue and making you swallow it all.
You know what she's declaring, loud and clear.
She could have you anytime, anywhere, any way she wants.
And when she's done, she slides her lips off yours, down your cheek, to your ear and tells you what you already know.
"You're disgusting."
She breaks away, stands tall. Peels her top off her body, tosses it onto the counter. It never mattered. Steps out of her panties without breaking her stride, rounding the island, hips swaying down the hallway towards your bedroom.
You hear her when she’s out of sight, "Do you need me to say it?"
You’re scrambling to your knees. You’re not sure if you'll make it to your feet.
You'll crawl if you have to.
"I'm coming, Mommy—"
"Crawl faster, baby. Mommy’s cunt isn’t going to fuck itself."
Written for the femdom challenge I co-hosted with @defmaybe and @toshyun on Fanprose. Prompt was mommy kink, hence
“We had an appointment! Check the schedule. Minister Wallis of South Merisia? Princess Royal Koma Mayu?! It was made well over a month ago!”
The Butler nods and smiles. “I am aware, Minister. However, Her Royal Highness is not accepting any visitors presently.”
“What—” The Minister huffs and throws his arms up, rubbing his forehead. “These are no small matters at stake! She can’t just…just—this is preposterous!”
“She will be occupied for the entire day, Minister. Tomorrow may be the earliest you can visit. We will contact you with any further updates. I deeply apologise for the inconvenience.”
“Tomorrow?!” The Minister sighs, his shoulders slumping. “And what do you mean may? You don’t know her schedule either?”
The Butler gives a full bow. “I deeply apologise, Minister. We can offer to set you up with accommodations nearby, if you’d like.”
“Bah. I can manage that myself fine, thank you. Let’s go, Colonel,” he nods at his aide. “Bloody royals just play around with their own schedules, apparently.” The Butler breathes out a sigh as he watches them storm away, looking over his back.
So, what exactly has the Princess Royal so occupied that she’s cancelled all the appointments for the day, no matter with who?
***
The answer is that she’s got you pinned down on her bed, fingers wrapped around your shaft, jerking up and down while twisting side to side, all with a gleeful grin on her face. You, in contrast, are whimpering, quivering, sweat and tears running down your cheeks. Your throbbing tip leaks precum almost as quickly, balls swollen and aching from the seventh edging of the day.
Mayu’s somehow perfectly in tune with your resistance too, knowing precisely how to get you to the very edge and when to stop, denying the release your whole body is so desperately yearning for. “You getting tired? My boy getting tired? It’s only been an hour…” she giggles maniacally, moving her hand faster.
“Uhh! N–No! I can…can take—mmhhh! Can hold it! As long as you want, Your Highness!” you wheeze. If your mind were clearer, you’d applaud yourself for lasting this long. But alas, it’s clouded by pain and pleasure.
Mayu pouts and slaps your balls, making you flinch hard. “Hmph! You forgot already? Do I have to say it again?”
“No! No…I’m sorry!” Your eyes shoot wide open, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Your Hi—I mean, I’m sorry, m–mommy…”
A wide grin returns to her face. “Attaboy. Thought I was gonna have to kick you out there.” She rewards you with a long lick along the bottom vein, her tongue flat and slow. A string of what might be human language spills from your mouth as a result, the lights in your head flickering with a loud buzz.
“Now, you don’t wanna get kicked out of the estate butt naked, do you?” Mayu’s sweet, gentle voice is almost maternal, easily scrambling what semblance of pride you have left. “Don’t wanna get back to being a…worthless—wage—slave?” she asks slowly, kissing different parts of your cock.
“N–No! No, mommy! I wanna be…wanna…” Your mouth’s getting dry from all the crying and moaning. “Wanna be—yours. All yours, mommy!”
Mayu giggles. That soft, adorable look which is the only look the media sees most times. “Slut.” Not like this, though.
“Yes! I’m your slut! I’m mommy’s slut…mmhhh…”
“Say it for me again.” She wraps her lips around your head, suckling on it before releasing with a pop. “You’re worthless without me. Nothing if not my fucktoy,” she whispers, circling her fingertip around your slit.
“I’m—mmm…I’m worthless without you! Nothing if no—ahh!” Mayu takes you fully, going all the way down to her throat. “Nothing if not mommy’s fucktoy!” She hums and swipes her tongue in big circles, stimulating every surface that’s become hyper sensitive. You start sobbing above her again, hands locked to your sides as she instructed despite your desperate instincts to push her down by the hair.
Mayu’s mouth is more ferocious than it was the previous two cycles, your tip knocking on the back of her throat with tangible, filthy glucks. Not at all something you ever expect to hear from a royal, what with how they’ve branded themselves to the people.
Frankly, you never expected to be this up close with a royal, for any purpose. They always seemed distant. Unaffected by the troubles of the commoners. And you weren’t sure whether your resentment towards them was borne from the systemic inequality or your exclusion from the elusive clique that they’ve formed.
“Hey. Hey! What’re you thinking about? Where’s your head at?” Mayu scowls, saliva drooling from her swollen lips as she catches her breath. “I–I, uh…I was—”
“Were you distracting yourself to last longer?” she smirks, tilting her head.
“It…uh, maybe?”
She sucks through her teeth. “Be honest with me. Yes or no, baby?”
“Yes, mommy! Definitely. I was…I’m doing everything I can to–to make mommy happy.”
“Mmm, cute.” Mayu chuckles and clasps her lips around your balls, tickling the seam with quick juts of her tongue tip. You let out a deep bellow, curling your toes so hard they’re shaking, on the border of cramping. She releases with a loud pop, licking up the precum that trickled down your length in the meantime.
“Okay, enough playing for now. Let’s see if you can do what I brought you in here to.” She rises to her feet and unties her silk robe, letting it part down the middle. Your vigour feels reignited by the sight, cocking your head up. Mayu giggles and pulls her robe back together, and you let out a primal grunt at the denial.
“Hehe. Wanna see more, baby?”
You sit up and nod frantically. “Y–Yes, mommy.”
She hums and swings her body side-to-side. “Beg for it. Tell me what you want.”
“I–I wanna—” You swallow to lubricate your dry throat. “I wanna see all of you, mommy. Please, please let me see everything, mommy. Please…”
“Good boy.” Mayu bends forward to grab your chin, slowly licking from your Adam's apple, stopping by at your chin before going to your earlobe, nibbling on it. “You’re a good little peasant boy, aren’t you?” she purrs.
“Y–Yes! Yes, I am!” you shudder.
“For who?”
“For you, mommy! Only for you…”
With a satisfied hum, she straightens back up, pushing her robe back and letting it fall from her shoulders. Her smooth, bare naked form is finally presented to you, even doing a little twirl. Your eyes are the most open they’ve been in an hour, jaws dropped loosely. Feels like you couldn’t stop ogling unless someone broke your neck.
Or unless Mayu makes you look somewhere else, which isn’t at all difficult for her. She gracefully strides forward and slides into your lap, making your breath hitch at the renewed proximity.
“You’re really hard down there,” she whispers, her warm breath tickling your cheek.. “It’s poking at my belly.”
“I, er…thank you?”
She bursts out laughing, a noise so wholesome and bright you could almost forget that she has the power to decimate you. “You’re sounding more and more like a keeper. Let’s really put that to the test.” Lifting herself to clear your length, she lines you up and sinks down in one fell swoop. The soft moan she lets out is immediately drowned out by your sharp cry, almost bursting then and there with how unbelievably wet and hot her pussy is.
“Ahh! M–Mommy…it–it’s so…I—aghh…”
Mayu shuts you up with a fiery kiss, biting and pulling your lips so hard it breaks skin. She pulls off for a single breath, then suckles on the wound, licking up the blood. Your eyes flutter under the volley of stimulations, cock throbbing within her.
“Mmh! Don’t tell me you’re close already, we barely started,” she pouts.
You sob and shake your head. “I’m sorry, Mommy…I can’t help it! You fe—ahh, feel too good…”
Mayu shoots a disapproving squint before cackling, raising herself up to your tip then slamming back down. Your hands fly to her butt as you throw your head back, wheezing. “You better help it, baby,” she coos. “You’re not—and no touching! Hands off.” They obey before you tell them to, trembling as they fall to your sides.
“You don't finish before I do, and you don’t touch me or move unless I say so. Understand, baby?” she asks sweetly, putting her arms around your neck.
You clench your jaws and swallow before replying, “Understood, mommy.”
“And if you don’t do what I say…” Mayu begins rolling her hips, dragging your hardness along her warmth. “I’m kicking you out exactly as you are right now. And you’ll go back to being the worthless…mmm…bottom feeder that you were.”
You seethe and nod as you direct all remaining energy to holding on, by any means; gripping the sheets, clenching your jaws, tightening your thighs. “And you won’t be going back to that shitty job I plucked you out of,” she giggles and groans at a particular stroke against her sensitive spot. “No…you won’t be going back to any job. No one will employ you. I’ll—fuck…that’s so hard! I’ll personally make sure of that.”
Mayu’s moans get louder and sharper as she ramps up her speed. You start bawling, not just from the higher intensity but also the true gravity of the situation. You’re now literally fighting for your life, as there is no life for you outside of this manor. Outside of her world. Not anymore.
“Mommy…”
“You’ll be beyond worthless. You will be…invisible!” She laughs maniacally. “Now you don’t want that, do you baby?”
“N–No!”
“No…you want to be mommy’s personal fucktoy,” she purrs, caressing your temple.
“Yes!”
“My cum dispenser,”
“Mmm…”
“My walking, blabbering...fucking pet.”
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Anything you want, mommy! Just don’t kick me out, please…anything for you…”
“Aw, so—ahh…adorable.” She kisses you deep but gentle, briefly slowing herself down. Pulling away, she glances down at her chest. “You want these? Want mommy’s milkers?”
You take a good gander at them again. The little time your eyes had spent open was fixed on her face, hardly noticing the supple mounds and the pink buds jutting from them. “Mhm! I wanna…wanna suck them, mommy. Wanna squeeze them.”
“Then do it. Don’t half-ass it, or you’re never touching them again.” You don’t even acknowledge before engorging on one of them, kneading the other. Your mouth is ravenous in its slurping, as if trying to gather every morsel of surface particulate. Teeth and tongue nibble at her stiff nipples. Your hand is far from idle as well, finally getting some action. It gropes like a climber’s does when they scale cliffs, pinching and rolling the other bud between your fingers.
Mayu’s reaction is immediate, a few broken gasps slipping as she pushes you into her. “F–Fuck! Right there, baby…just like that. So—ahh! So good…” Her hips return to speed, even harsher than before. Moist, crisp claps are emitted as she impales herself. You cope by switching to her other breast, gnawing on them, blowing into them.
“Oh my God! Ahh, it—that…touch me, touch me! My ass, my clit, everything! I’m…I—ughh! I’m actually getting close…”
No complaints there. Your hands get busy with her body. Spreading her ass, flicking her slit in a mad dash to find her clit. Mayu shouts when you pass a specific spot and you lock in on that; rubbing, rolling, twiddling, pushing into it. That utterly breaks the remainders of her royal composure as she bellows various curses between her long, whiny moans.
Her walls leak profusely, twitching around you. You’re fast nearing the end of your rope as well, the stakes are higher than ever. “Mommy, I’m so close…” you whimper. “I dont—ahh! I can’t hold it much longer…”
“Just a little bit more, baby,” she whines and braces herself on your shoulders. “Just—a little bit—more! Shit! You can move now, fuck me! Fuck me!”
With a loud grunt, you start thrusting up in time with her bounces. Mayu begins sobbing as well, albeit with a wide, euphoric grin. Your combined noises fill up the vast bedroom, drowning out any semblance of outside noise.
Mayu arches her back sharply as she detonates, jamming herself hard like she’s trying to become one with you. Her pussy jettisons a torrent of juices, soaking everything underneath it. Her walls constrict in sporadic, powerful waves, and you lose it.
“Mommy! I’m cumming! Cum—” The rest dies in your throat as you erupt, firing multiple volleys of your seed deep inside her. The sensation blurs your vision and most of your other senses, all overwhelmed by the long pent-up release.
“Yes…that’s it, fill me up. Make me a mommy…” Mayu rolls her hips slowly even as her entire frame trembles, making sure to milk every little drop of your discharge. By the time you finish spurting, your whole body feels like jelly, collapsing backwards under her weight.
Mayu rolls off with a soft hum, your cock slithering out weakly. She lays back to catch her breath, then spreads her legs to observe your combined release. “Wow, quite a great amount…and you lasted. Well done, baby.” She plants a soft kiss on your forehead. “You have earned your keep. You’re a very useful peasant after all.”
“T–Thanks, mommy.”
“Ah-ah.” She puts a finger on your lips. “We’re done with that for the time being. Address me as per the custom.”
“Right. Then, I am…grateful for the opportunity you’ve given me, Your Highness.”
“Very well.” Mayu stretches her arms out and flops back on the bed. “Return to your quarters and wash up. You’re done for noon, but we’ll continue tonight.”
You swallow a gulp, cock twitching again despite yourself. “Yes, ma’am.” You breathe out a sigh and summon what energy you have left to sit up, turning to glance between her legs. “By the way, is that…will you really get…pregnant?”
Mayu chuckles, tilting her head to look at you. “Likely not. I’ve been on contraceptives for the past two weeks.” She sits back up, moaning slightly as the soreness catches up with her. “And we’ll use that to its full advantage. Every two days, you’ll fulfil my desires, and perhaps…” That cheeky smirk adorns her face again. “ …I’ll let you fulfill yours on occasion.”
You stand up with a groan. “Understood, ma’am.” You start gathering your clothes, dressing up enough to be presentable. As you’re about to bow her goodbye, a big question arises, or resurfaces, rather. A smaller question is whether it’s appropriate to ask now, but the fact that you’ve been inside and handled by this woman gives it good assurance.
***
“Er, there is something else I’d really like to know, Your Highness.”
“Mhm, pray tell.”
“Why?” you shrug. “Why did you snatch—er, pluck me up from the streets? Invite me into your fold for…this? I mean, I am immensely grateful, but…why me? Like you said, I was a no-good wage slave—I’d probably have worked to my death back there.”
“Hmm.” Mayu taps her chin. “Let’s just say—oh dear, this is quite a mess. Bring me a towel, will you?” You make a quick trip to her massive bathroom to grab a small towel and hand it to her. “Thank you. As I was saying, you were incredibly lucky, darling. It’s…” she sighs as she wipes herself clean. “It’s my father. Your King.”
“I’m never getting the throne, by virtue of not being his son. So, he just…pampers me. A whole lot. Doesn’t want me to do anything too risky or adventurous.” She scoffs and throws the towel down. “What occasional ‘adventure’ I do get is meeting those diplomats. Like that isn’t a minefield of its own.”
“Perhaps he’s…trying to set you up with one of their princes? But can’t say it too outwardly, so…” Mayu shoots you a glance that scrambles the rest of your thoughts. “I’m sorry if–if that was out of line, Your Highness.”
“No, no, you’re right.” She raises a hand, smiling. “Heh. You’re more intuitive than some…individuals in the Palace,” she chuckles. “Anyways, since I can’t have much fun outside the manor, I thought I’d make my own fun.”
She eyes you up and down slowly, biting her lip as she starts to saunter towards you, picking up her robe along the way. “And seeing you on that street, berated in public by that vile boss of yours…” Her voice’s dropped back to that octave which chills your spine. “…you seemed like a decent subject for my entertainment,” she purrs, getting right up in your face.
Her fingers lightly dance over your crotch, eliciting a quiet croak from you. “And what do you know, I was mostly correct.”
You force your eyes to meet hers. “M–Mostly, ma’am?”
“Mhm. You’ve proved yourself for the short term. Prove yourself for the long term…” She turns around and slowly grinds her silk covered ass down your bulge, keeping eye contact as she does. “ …and you may advance from a mere useful subject. The child I bear may very well be yours, darling.”
You shudder at the potential future, along with the heat returning to your loins. “I–I…that would be…a great honor, Your Highness. I will keep it in mind.”
“It’s best you do,” Mayu giggles, giving you a light peck on the cheek before returning to her bed. “Now, go along. Rejuvenate yourself. If what you gave me just now was your everything, you need to move that threshold for tonight.”
You straighten up and give her a sharp, firm bow. “Will do, Your Royal Highness. I will retreat to my quarters. Have a good day.”
“Ta.” She blows a kiss goodbye. Just before you open the door, you look back at her. “Oh, and…it may be wise to empty your schedule for tomorrow, ma’am.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
For the first time in a while, your little smile is borne of confidence. “Because you won’t be walking straight by then.”
Mayu bursts out laughing, resting her chin on her fist. “Remember where you came from, darling. Don’t utter all that big talk…” She glances down and licks her top lip. “ …before you take away my ability to.”
You chuckle giddily, turning the door handle. “Duly noted, Your Highness.”
Can you make a alternative plot of yeji fic where the mc has the confidence of the relationship despite what's happening to his life?
not only have you sent me several asks asking for completely different things, you've made it crystal clear that you do not value my story and only use it for your goon fuel.
i'm not writing a different fucking story just because you didnt like the ending. I'm already barely interested in keeping this blog alive and dumb shit like this is making me hit the nuke button even faster
Wonyoung x MaleOC ft. Yujin | 5k words | Table of Contents
Chapter tags: Femdom, Reverse Cuckold, Angst, Drama
(Option B selected by readers)
Continue going all the way with Yujin.
“Wonyoung! Wait—please, I can explain!”
She was already halfway down the hallway, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“Wonyoung-ah—just stop for a second!”
But she didn’t. Her footsteps were fast and uneven, stumbling like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to run or collapse.
“Please—just listen to me! Wonyoung, please!”
Her back suddenly stiffened, and she turned slowly towards me.
“You kissed her,” she said sharply, her face unreadable by the harsh hallway light.
“No—it’s not what you think—”
“I saw you, Wonbin.” Her voice cracked. “I saw your face. Your eyes were closed, and your hands—were all over her.”
“I wasn’t! She kissed me—I tried to stop her—”
“So you had the strength to carry Rei across the room earlier, but you couldn’t stop Yujin from coming onto you?”
“Wonyoung—I—” The words tangled on my tongue. “You’re right—I messed up, I know I did, and I’m sorry. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. But I really didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t know what to do, so you grabbed a handful of her ass while she stuck her tongue down your throat?” She looked away in disgust. “And you said you loved me? And after everything I said—”
“Wonyoung—” I reached for her hand, but she yanked it back like I had burned her.
“Don’t you dare touch me,” she said in a tone that I never imagined I’d ever hear from her. A tone so terrifying and cold that it made my chest cave in.
“I’m sorry,” I said, dropping to my knees before her. The impact shot through my legs, but I barely felt it—everything else hurt way more.
I didn’t know what else to do, it was like my world was shattering in front of me. Everything I’d ever dreamed of actually came true, and yet in just a fleeting moment, it all disappeared.
“Do you think that begging works on me?” she asked.
“You’re right. I should’ve stopped her. I could’ve. I was too stupid. But I swear I’ve never looked at her like that—it’s always been you. I wish it had been you. I wanted it to be you. But it wasn’t, and I was wrong, and I’m just so sorry.”
She didn’t say a word.
“I’m sorry, Wonyoung…” I said again, even though I knew she was right. Repeating it changed nothing. Begging was futile.
“Today was one of the happiest days of my life,” she said.
“Mine too.”
“It felt like a fairytale to me.”
“Me too.”
“And you ruined it.”
Her words cut like a dull knife. Sharp enough to puncture a wound, but not enough to end the pain quickly.
“I know, I’m so sorry, Wonyoung. I’m really so sorry.”
She let the silence stretch until it nearly snapped, then looked down at me with her arms folded. "Then prove it.”
“What?”
“If you mean it, then prove it.”
“Okay—I’ll prove it. I’ll do it. Anything. I’ll do anything.”
Her eyes sharpened, and her posture straightened, like she wasn’t even drunk anymore. “Be mine then.”
“I am. I’m already yours, I’ve always been.”
“No,” she said, her voice colder than ever. “Not like that.”
I swallowed hard, my throat closing up. “Then what do you mean?”
She began to circle me slowly. “As of today, you’re no longer my best friend.”
My breathing stopped. “W-what?”
“And you’re definitely not going to be my lover, my boyfriend, or whatever stupid fantasy you had in your head.”
“I-I’m not sure what you’re saying right now—”
“Wonbin.” She leaned down, just enough to meet my eyes. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Answer the question. Are you going to be mine or what? Yes or no.”
“Your what?”
“My slave.”
From the moment those words left her lips, my life was never the same again.
I never thought even in my wildest nightmares that my relationship with Wonyoung would turn out this way. But eventually, it became the only thing I knew.
My routine was simple. Attend class during the day, work my part-time job at the café in the evening, and at night, be available whenever she asked for me.
She was a methodical person, so most of the time, our meetings followed a pattern: right after a concert, a full day of practice, filming a music video or commercial, or after she came back from being away.
The only unpredictable part was the location.
For most nights, it would be at her own apartment in Cheongdam, but there were special occasions where we would meet at a fancy hotel closest to where she was at the time of the text.
“Grand Hyatt. Room 1134. 30 minutes.”
That would be the text. Nothing more.
And for the record, 30 minutes was not a lot of time to get ready and show up. But I somehow always made it work.
In the beginning, I’d panic—make excuses to my friends, lie about emergencies, bolt out of restaurants onto the subway like my life depended on it (because, well, it did).
But eventually, I learned to anticipate her schedule. I started checking her public appearances, rehearsals, recordings, just to narrow down the nights I might get summoned. I memorized her patterns—how she needed me more after long shoots or after arguments with her members.
After a while, I didn’t need excuses anymore. I just disappeared. People stopped questioning it. Maybe they thought I just turned into a psycho. Who was I to say they were wrong?
I also never showed up empty-handed. She never asked, but I knew she expected it: a bouquet of roses, an expensive box of chocolates, a new bottle of wine to try. Something to prove my devotion, my desperation, my willingness to bleed myself dry for her. Like an offering, almost. And that’s where most of my paychecks went.
Chocolate and wine were easy to stock, but roses had to be bought fresh, which made them the real challenge. Especially on short notice. I learned which flower shops stayed open late, which convenience stores carried good wine, which 24-hour places would save me when she texted at midnight.
As for the rules, the basic ones were quite simple. Don’t be late, don’t talk back, follow her orders without question.
But simple didn’t always mean easy. I broke them often, and was always punished accordingly. In fact, I broke them the very same night that I got myself into this mess.
“What do you mean?”
“I told you not to ask questions,” she scolded. “Just do anything and everything I say.”
“Oh, so we’ve already made it to this part of the game.” Yujin smirked.
“You shut your mouth, unnie.” Wonyoung said sternly.
"Scary," Yujin said sarcastically, her eyes locked on mine, waiting to see if I'd crumble or comply.
Wonyoung turned to me, her patience visibly thinning. “Are you going to do it or not? Because if not, you can leave right now.”
“I’ll do it, but—”
“Wonbin.”
“Y-yeah?”
She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
I turned to Yujin, unable to look Wonyoung in the eyes anymore. “Kiss me again,” I said, barely above a whisper.
Yujin blinked, and then laughed in disbelief. “What?”
Wonyoung sat on the couch in front of us, her posture more refined than ever, as if the alcohol had completely left her body. She said nothing. Just watched.
“Kiss me,” I said again, my voice stronger than before. “Let’s…make out. Again.”
“Well, this isn’t very romantic,” Yujin said, unimpressed.
“Oh, it was supposed to be romantic?” Wonyoung asked, her voice more annoyed than ever.
“No!” I interrupted. “It wasn’t romantic at all, we were just being stupid. Drunk and stupid.”
“Speak for yourself,” Yujin said, biting her lower lip.
“Come on,” I said, inching closer to her. “Let’s do it again.”
“You’re giving us permission?” Yujin's eyes flicked between me and Wonyoung. “Or is this some kind of test?”
“If you’re gonna go after my possessions, do it in front of me instead of behind my back.”
“Ooh—possessions, huh? Don’t agree to things that you’ll regret, Wonnie.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Yujin's smile turned predatory as she looked at me. “I guess everyone wins tonight.”
Without warning, she wrapped her hands behind my neck and pulled me close, kissing me fiercely, as if she had been waiting for this moment all night.
My body went rigid, even though I had plenty of time to prepare. Truthfully, I was shocked that Yujin was such a great kisser. The control she had over her lips and tongue were honestly impressive. It felt like I was in complete control by her mouth, so much that I couldn’t even move.
Wonyoung crossed her legs and leaned her back against the sofa. “Don’t be shy all of a sudden, kiss her back.”
Yujin chuckled against my lips. “You're actually okay with this?”
“He said he would do anything to prove that he’s sorry, so let’s see how much of that is bullshit.”
The room spun around me. I didn't understand the rules anymore. I didn't know what was expected or forbidden, but I knew if I asked again, I’d be punished. And I still didn’t understand what punishment meant in her world.
“Go on, grab her ass,” Wonyoung commanded. “Just like you did before.”
“You heard her.” Yujin took my hand and guided it down, pressing my palm against the curve of her soft, round butt, holding it there until my fingers spread and gripped on their own.
“How does it feel? Do you like it?” Wonyoung asked.
I froze. Every answer felt like a trap.
“Are you mute now?”
“It feels… good?” My voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“I asked you if you like it.”
“Yes. I like it. It feels nice and soft.”
“Just pretend she’s not here,” Yujin whispered, her breath warm in my ear. “She loves playing goddess, but she’s just a jealous little brat, don’t be scared of her.”
Wonyoung’s voice cut through her whisper like a knife. “Take her clothes off.”
“W-what?” I stared at her, panic rising in my chest.
But Yujin didn't wait for my hesitation to pass. “Like this.”
Her fingers found the edge of my shirt and pulled it over my head in one smooth motion. Then she kissed me again—slower this time, more deliberate. I didn’t resist. I didn’t know if I even had the right to anymore. Or the will.
My hands moved without conscious thought, pulling her shirt up and over her head. She smiled against my lips, then reached behind herself to unhook her bra, letting it fall at our feet. She grabbed my wrist and placed it over her bare chest, and I felt the weight of her breasts in my hands as my breath finally caught.
I looked over at Wonyoung, my throat as dry as sand.
“Don’t stop now,” she said, recrossing her legs.
Lust crashed over me like a giant wave. I wanted to pretend I was still in some kind of control, that this was still some twisted game I could walk away from—but that lie died the moment Yujin's nipples hardened against my palms. Her tongue danced with mine as if she already knew every inch of me—where to press, where to pull, how to break what little was left of my restraint.
I slid her shorts down along with her panties, and she let out a quiet, teasing moan, biting down on my lower lip before releasing it with a grin.
“There you go,” she breathed. “That’s a good boy…”
My hands moved on instinct, tracing the curve of her waist, and glided over her hips, until my fingers slipped between her thighs. She was already wet, and when I touched her, she gasped into my mouth, arching her body like she never even expected it. Her breath was hot against my cheek, and her head tilted back, exposing her neck like an offering.
I took it. My lips pressed eagerly against her skin as my fingers spread her wetness, slipping through it before pressing deeper. She was already soaked, pulling me in.
“Oh god,” Yujin moaned, her head falling back.. “You better not tell us to stop randomly, because I swear—I’m going to lose it.”
“I won’t,” Wonyoung said calmly. “Do what you really want to each other.”
“Don’t change your mind later when you can’t take it anymore,” Yujin warned.
“Of course. I won’t.”
Then, like something snapped inside her, Yujin grabbed my shoulders and twisted me around, pushing me down onto the couch—right next to Wonyoung. I hit the cushions hard, my heart pounding so loud I could barely think, before I felt her fingers tugging my belt free. In one smooth, reckless motion, she pulled my pants down to my knees.
“W-wait, hold on—”
But she didn’t listen.
Before I could process what had happened, my cock was already inside of her mouth. I looked at Wonyoung in panic, certain that she would stop us, but she was stoic. She didn’t even flinch. She just sat there, perfectly still, watching. Her face was unreadable—there was no shock. No jealousy. No anger. Just nothing.
“You better not come,” was all she said.
***
“Wonbin, are you coming?” Manager Kim asked, waving his arm.
“Yes, coming, sorry!” I hurried toward him through the maze of cables and equipment cases.
The stadium was deafeningly loud, even from backstage. Thousands of voices were bleeding through concrete walls.
“Alright, listen carefully because this part is kind of confusing. The girls are going to enter from this side, but they exit from the other side in between breaks. But on some sets, they have to exit on this side to get their makeup retouched. So you wait over here, since you can speak English, so if the venue staff have any issues, you can communicate with them. I’ll be on the other side dealing with our new crew. Make sense?”
“Yes,” I lied. It made zero sense in the moment, but everything was happening too fast for me to process.
“Do you have their stuff?”
I held up the box of phones tangled with designer charms and luxury handbags worth more than my semester tuition.
“Perfect, alright, I have to go now, text me if there are any issues.”
While getting my school arrangements in place, I had some free time, so I volunteered to help IVE with their World Tour in America. I thought that just meant tagging along their team and helping with translations, but Manager Kim seemed to really trust me with management things as well, such as coordinating fan events, and helping set their schedules. Or on some days, hold their phones and bags for them while they performed.
Although this job (if you could even call it that since I didn’t get paid) helped me understand the logistics of being an idol more than ever before, there were some things that remained a mystery to me. Like how they changed entire outfits—sometimes even hairstyles—in the span of two songs. I wasn't allowed to be there during costume changes for obvious reasons, but my mind couldn't wrap around the physics of it.
But what confused me the most was that Wonyoung had two phones. Everyone knew she was endorsed by Samsung, so of course she had to be seen with a Galaxy for Instagram posts and brand deals, while her personal phone was an iPhone—that part made sense. What didn’t make sense was how she actually used them.
Sometimes, in between sets, she’d ask me for the Galaxy instead of her iPhone—even when there were no cameras or fans around.
At first, I figured maybe she had KakaoTalk installed on both, and it was just a matter of convenience. But then she’d switch back to the iPhone the very next set, almost at random, like there was some invisible rulebook I’d never read. Was one for family? One for management?
I never had the courage to ask. And honestly, maybe I didn’t want to know. Her unlock pattern was quite simple and not much of a secret since she often swiped it out in the open, so I didn’t imagine there could be anything to hide on that phone. It was just one of those things that went way over my head and there was no point in trying to decipher it.
"Oppa, something's wrong with my mic—I can't hear myself anymore," Liz said breathlessly as the girls rushed backstage for their break before the encore.
"Channel 3 volume check," I called to the sound engineer. "Her monitor feed might be—”
“Oppa, Wonyoung’s looking for her phone—”
“Oppa, do you know where Manager Kim is?”
“Wonbin-ah, can you ask them—”
Voices overlapped, demands crashed into each other. At this point, the area was chaos—makeup artists with powder brushes, stylists pulling new outfits from garment bags, security guards barking updates on their walkie talkies about crowd control. In the middle of it all, Wonyoung looked especially drained.
I caught her as she stumbled slightly, pressing a cold bottle of water into her hands while the other girls fanned themselves frantically with whatever they could find.
"Are you okay?" I asked, twisting the cap off for her before she could even try.
She smiled—that soft, genuine one reserved for moments when the cameras weren't rolling. "I'm okay. I'm just glad it's almost over. I'm so tired today.”
It caught me off guard. She rarely let her exhaustion show, especially not to me. Not anymore.
"You did really well today," I said, reaching up to fix a strand of hair that had escaped from her perfectly styled bangs. My fingers brushed against her damp skin, and for a second, she leaned into the touch.
“Were you watching me?” she asked, taking a long sip of water.
“Of course I was.”
“I can’t believe it’s your job now.”
“It’s always been my job to look at you—”
“Wonyoung-ah! Come quickly, you have to change for the encore! We only have three minutes!”
She jerked upward. "Sorry! Coming!”
As usual, whatever little moment we had shattered.
She dropped the water bottle onto my lap and started toward the dressing room, then stopped abruptly.
"Oh—Wonbin! Can you bring me my phone?"
I looked down at the two devices in my hands. "Which one?"
But she didn’t hear me.
I tried checking for messages on both to figure it out, but without knowing her passcode, the home screen was as good as empty. Just then, the Galaxy buzzed in my hand, and I knew that was the one.
“Wonbin, there you are!” Manager Kim suddenly called from behind me. “Can you come help? They’re saying that we’re behind schedule and won’t have time for the fansign afterwards, but that’s completely not true.”
“Oh, I’ll be right there, I have to bring this to Wonyoung—”
“No, come now! She can wait!”
***
“Wait, stop—Yujin!”
Wonyoung glared at me, more serious than she’s ever been.
“Wonyoung—I’m sorry, I—I think I’m gonna come—”
“Don't come yet,” Yujin said, her tongue flicking teasingly against the tip. “The fun's just getting started.”
“No, please, Yujin, slow down…”
“Like this?” she purred, slowly running her tongue against my shaft.
I didn’t understand how or why she was so good. Granted, my sexual experience was limited to only a couple of people, but this was a level of skill I didn’t know existed. Where exactly did she learn? And with who?
I fell back against the couch, squeezing my eyes shut to fight the overwhelming sensations, but Yujin's warm, wet mouth engulfed me completely, techniques I didn't even know were possible.
"Open your eyes," Wonyoung commanded.
I obliged, and I could see the anger behind her beautiful face that she was trying so hard to mask.
“Does it feel good?” Yujin asked, stroking me while pulling her hair back with her other hand.
Wonyoung crossed her legs yet again. “Answer the question.”
“Yes,” I said, in almost a whimper. “It feels really good, but I don’t want to feel good anymore. I’m sorry, Wonyoung, I—”
“Why not? I never said you couldn’t feel good, I just said not to come.”
But it was a request that was physically impossible to meet. I looked right into her eyes, staring at the girl of my dreams, the only person I’d ever yearned for with such desperation. And yet right next to her was Yujin’s perfect naked body, oozing with desire, ready to swallow me alive.
“I can’t hold it anymore,” I cried in defeat as Yujin’s throat squeezed me tightly, her soft, wet tongue drawing circles at my base.
“Not yet,” Yujin said, gasping for air. Strands of saliva fell from her mouth, still connected to my shaft. “I wanna feel good too.”
“Yujin—what are you—”
Before I knew it, she had already climbed on top of me, kissing me deeply and passionately. I could taste myself on her mouth and feel the wetness around her lips smearing on mine, but it was the warmer, almost hot wetness below that truly scared me.
I wanted to scream, but my tongue was a prisoner to hers, and my hands had betrayed me—all they could do was hold onto her hips, guiding them towards me instead of pushing her away.
I looked desperately at Wonyoung again, silently begging for help, but she continued staring at us, her lips slightly twitching in a fury she refused to show.
And before I knew it, the heat had completely swallowed me whole. Her walls wrapped tightly around me, gliding smoothly up and down as her hips moved in a hypnotic rhythm.
“Oh fuck…” Yujin's breath hit my face between tender kisses.
“Yujin…” I tried to speak, but found no words beyond her name.
She continued grinding on top of me, hands clutching her own breasts as she used my body for her pleasure. It was a sight that was breaking my mind, like my brain was being short-circuited. On one hand, there was nothing more erotic than seeing Yujin in such a primal, erotic state. Her deadly facial expressions as she rode me, combined with her womanly slender body bouncing up and down mine, sent me into a sexual delirium.
But what broke me more was Wonyoung’s stillness. Her posture was still as perfect as always, and her legs were tightly crossed, while she watched us without saying a word. All I could do was shake my head, begging her with my eyes to forgive me.
For what I did, and what I was about to do.
“I’m sorry, Wonyoung…”
I wished I could have told her how I felt. That I wished it was her instead of Yujin. How much I craved only her. How all our memories rushed in to fight back the lust that Yujin had drawn out of me, but to no avail.
The edges of her lips twitched ever so slightly yet again as Yujin jammed her tongue into my mouth yet again to claim me as hers, wetness dripping down the sides of my body.
Wonyoung uncrossed her legs and slowly stood up, and I knew the game was over.
I was going to betray her twice in one night. My body finally fully surrendered.
I closed my eyes, and my arms wrapped around Yujin’s back, pulling her close, thrusting upwards for the first time all night, causing her to moan loudly.
“Harder,” she said, sucking on my lips. “Fuck me harder.”
I squeezed her ass tightly, pumping her with all the strength I had left in my body.
“I’m coming…” I cried. “Yujin…I’m gonna come…”
“No, not yet…keep fucking me like this...”
“I can’t, Yujin, I’m sorry, I’m coming…”
“No, fuck me more. More, more, more!”
“I’m coming…I can’t hold it anymore!”
And then the door slammed behind us, just as all of my essence violently erupted deep inside her.
My punishment wasn’t anger. It wasn’t screaming, or a slap across the face. Not even a cold shoulder.
It was rules. An additional set of rules—ones much less simple, and infinitely harder to follow.
“I’m not mad, Wonbin. I told you that you could do whatever you wanted to do. Just know that the things you did with Yujin tonight will never happen with me.”
I could still hear her words ringing in my head. Words that cut deeper than any physical punishment I could have imagined.
Because it meant that I was her slave in every way that mattered to her, while completely stripped of everything I craved most.
I could never kiss her, never know the taste of her lips or the warmth of her tongue.
I would never receive any sort of pleasure from her mouth.
And sex was not just forbidden—it was to be erased from my mind. I should never even think about it.
But the most brutal rule of all was that I could never finish while she was in the room. It had to be after she left.
Those were the rules, and Wonyoung was absolute when it came to rules.
That was the ending of the night where everything began.
The night I told my childhood best friend that after all these years, I had always liked her.
But what came after like wasn’t love. It was ownership.
And she completely owned me.
I eventually packed my bags and moved to Seoul for school, and our routine continued without fail. I followed her rules carefully, always there when she asked, always doing what she wanted, never talking back or questioned her authority.
I thought I would dread those messages, that the sound of my phone buzzing would feel like a death sentence being passed, but instead, I began to crave it. The silence between texts felt like suffocating, and every new order was oxygen.
The more I served her, the more addicted I became. To her scent, her taste, her voice, just everything about her.
By day, I was her assistant manager—fetching water, carrying bags, shielding her from the chaos of crowds. By night, I was her toy. Something to be used, to be bent and broken, to prove over and over that she owned me.
It was the only life I knew. And, terrifyingly enough, the only life I wanted.
But little did I know, there was another rule. One that came much later on.
Whenever she was out of town, our agreement didn’t simply cease to exist, nor did I receive a break.
“If I’m not there, you belong to my members. Serve them like you would serve me.”
I understood exactly what that meant. My body wasn’t even mine anymore. It was a currency she could spend, or loan, or deny to anyone she pleased.
I’ll be in Taipei for the weekend.
Yujin and Rei are fighting over you. I don’t pick favorites, so I’ll let you choose.
PRESIDENT PEACH!!! i know the chances of you making a sequel of suffocation is slim. But please? im super invested on the what could happen. 🥲🥲 also im actually surprised you released a yeji piece instead of another annyongz 😭😂.
Also been a Reader of your stuff since your first piece of johyun on kinktober. im a bug fan your works!
Thank you! I think the beauty of this story is it ends, and you don't know how exactly. So I wouldn't want to ruin that. Maybe a prequel, but I wouldn't want to do anything else, as much as I enjoyed writing it all. Sometimes things are best in small doses.
"So," Yeji, starts, staring up at the moon, taking another drag of her cigarette. "This is it. The end of our final year. We've survived the exams and everything. We're almost done."
You glance up, not quite sharing her sentiment, watching the smoke leave her mouth and drift upwards. The way her pink hair shines in the moonlight. "Yeah, I guess."
She smiles, looking back over at you, leaning on the railing and then staring out at the city skyline. "You ever think about what would happen when I'm not here?"
"Here, where? The balcony? It's not going anywhere."
Yeji rolls her eyes, taking another hit and holding the cigarette between her fingers. "Not the balcony, idiot. College. You know what I mean."
You take a sip of your drink, one that's a bit too strong for your taste. "No, I don't. Please enlighten me."
"Stop being so difficult," Yeji grumbles, looking right at you. "Once we graduate. What then? Do we keep this up? I can't imagine a life where I'm not blowing you or having my legs spread for you, but, like—it's the real world. We're not going to live like broke, twenty-something year olds forever. Not gonna be able to go over to your place at midnight and let you rail me whenever I'm horny."
"Why the fuck not? You've been doing it for years now. I haven't exactly gotten sick of it yet."
She laughs, taking a long puff and releasing it. "But what if you do? Or if something happens," Yeji sighs, shaking her head.
"What do you mean if something happens to you? Yeji, what—"
"Nothing, nothing at all. I just mean—what if you don't want me anymore. If one day you decide this isn't worth it."
You scoff, finishing the last of your drink. "That's not gonna happen, Yeji. The hell has gotten into you?"
"You don't know that," she says, putting the cigarette out on the concrete and letting the remains fall below.
"Yes, I do. We've been together since sophomore year. We're graduating, and I've been living the best four years of my life. With you."
Turning her head, she doesn't look quite satisfied. "I'm just saying. Things change. We're not going to be these horny college kids anymore. What if I had to move away or something? Like, what if one day, I was gone and—"
"You're not fucking going anywhere, Yeji," you say, turning and cupping her cheeks. She doesn't flinch or turn away.
"I'm not. But what if one day I do and you have to find someone else to be the one that fucks you whenever you want? Unless you wanna hook up with Yuna every once in a while. She'd totally be up for it. And Chaeryeong, definitely."
"Yeji, I can't believe we're having this conversation. How much did you drink?"
"Just one," she says, holding a finger up. "Okay, maybe two. I just—I love you, okay? And I don't wanna lose this. Ever."
"Then you're not going to, because I'm not gonna let you slip through my fingers," you say, pulling her closer and pressing your lips against hers. "I love you, Yeji. You're stuck with me forever. So, stop saying stupid things."
Yeji smiles, but not the one you know. Not the playful, cocky one, the kind where she's ready to make some sort of lewd comment. Not the soft, cute one either. Not even the seductive, lust-filled grin she flashes when she's about to tear your clothes off.
"Yeji, is everything—"
"Just kiss me again," she says, pulling you closer. "Everything is fine. It's fine. Promise. I'm not going anywhere."
---
"Yeji, what are you doing?" you ask, entering the room. The lights are bright, almost blinding, and a tripod stands next to the bed. A camera is set up, pointed at the bed. She's lying there, completely nude, wearing a pair of fuzzy, pink handcuffs and nothing else.
"Oh, hey. Took you long enough."
"Did I miss the part where you were gonna explain why the fuck there's a camera set up and recording?"
"Well," she starts, sitting up from the bed. "We're graduating soon. And, you know, this has been fun. All the stuff we've done, everything we've tried."
"Uh-huh," you say, taking a step forward and trying to focus on something other than the way her body looks right now. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you were about to break up with me."
Yeji scoffs. "No, dummy. Just the opposite. I love you and all that, and I know this is going to sound crazy, but—what if we made a video. Like, a sex tape. For us. A memento, a reminder of all the good times we've had together."
You can't help but laugh. "A sex tape. For us. Yeji, you can't be serious."
"I'm completely serious," she replies, shifting on her knees. "Just think about it—you and me, naked, fucking and making a little memory. It'll be something special, something hot, and something only we get to enjoy."
"Yeji, if this is your idea of a graduation present, you could've just bought a gift card."
"It's not. Look, just sit down and listen. Okay?"
You roll your eyes, knowing full well you're gonna go along with whatever Yeji wants. "You're naked. Wearing handcuffs. On my bed. And there's a camera filming. You expect me to just listen? After all that?"
"What, do you want me to suck your dick first? I mean, I can, if that's what it takes."
"God, you're impossible," you say, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed.
"Yeah, and you love it," Yeji replies, grabbing your hand and guiding you back onto the mattress, taking a seat on your lap. "So, what do you say?"
"Do I even have a choice?"
Yeji smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "No. You know I'm stubborn as fuck. Plus, I'm already handcuffed. Would be a shame if we had to get out the ball gag too."
"As if I'd ever want to shut that pretty mouth up. Fine, let's do this, then."
"Really?" Yeji asks, face lighting up.
"What do you expect me to say, Yeji? You know how fucking hard it is to resist you, especially when you're sitting next to me, naked, and pretty as hell."
Yeji laughs, shaking her head and pushing you back into the pillows. "It'll be hot, I promise. Plus, it'll help me get off whenever I'm in the mood. And you can watch it and jerk off when I'm gone, or whatever."
"That sounds more like a present for you."
"Shut up. It's for both of us. Now if you don't mind, kitten needs a good fucking."
"Please don't ever say that again."
She laughs, shifting to straddle you and waiting patiently. "Meow."
---
"Is that—fucking, god, is that what I really look like when I cum?" Yeji asks, her eyes glued to the laptop screen, watching herself climax.
"You've never watched yourself before?"
Yeji shakes her head. "What, you think I just go around shooting porn all the time? This is my first time seeing me on camera. But damn, it was fucking hot. Holy shit. Like, holy fuck. Watching myself squirt, oh god, I'm like fucking possessed."
"I thought you wanted a memento. A reminder. Why are we watching it back already?"
"Because," she starts, pausing the video. "Because I wanted to see what it looked like. Curiosity and all. It's not often I get to see what the view looks like while you're balls deep in my ass."
"Jesus," you groan, as she presses play and resumes watching.
"Fuck, your dick looks so good pounding me like that. God, I'm such a good fucking slut, just taking it like that. Wow, look at you go—I'm just there, lying down, hands cuffed behind me, and you're just destroying my ass. And then when you pull out and cum on my face, fuck, I could watch that over and over."
You don't say anything, not while she's watching the screen, her hand working underneath her pajama bottoms.
"Look, look, this is the part where you spank me. You really went at it, huh? And I just took it. Fuck, my ass is so red. That was so fucking hot. You were fucking insane."
"I remember, Yeji. I was there."
"Shush, let me have my moment," she grumbles, biting her lip while she watches. "God, my tits look amazing. And your hands feel so fucking good, squeezing them like that. Look, there—I'm getting close. Can you see the way I'm about to cum? That's the fucking money shot."
Yeji looks away for a moment, staring right at you. "What? Aren't you gonna watch with me?"
"It's weird, seeing myself on a screen."
"Well, you can just focus on me," she says, smiling. "Oh look, here's the mating press scene. I didn't realize how hot that looked. Look, I'm totally out of it, not even thinking, just there for your cock. I look like a total whore."
"You're not a—"
"No, no. That's a compliment. I'm a whore, but, like, a high class one. The expensive kind. The kind who only takes it up the ass for you."
"You're ridiculous, Yeji," you say, giving up and focusing on the screen.
"There, see, right there. When you cum in me, right at the end. Your balls are so heavy, smacking up against my ass and just filling me up. Fuck, you were so deep. The way you sounded when you came in me…"
Yeji stops the video, closing the laptop. "We can't watch the rest."
"What? Why not?"
"I'm all sticky and need a shower," she says, climbing out of the bed. "Besides, you didn't even want to watch."
"You dragged me into it, and now I'm invested."
Yeji giggles, pulling her tank top over her head. "Come with me, then. You can get me dirty again."
---
"You know," Yeji says, staring up at you under the spray of the shower. "I think that was the best fucking sex we've ever had. Just—god, you were relentless. Didn't even know you had that much cum stored away in your balls."
"You were being a very, very bad girl, Yeji."
"Meow," she purrs, letting the water run down her chest.
"I'm never getting in the shower with you again."
"Don't act like you don't enjoy seeing me all wet and soapy."
You sigh, grabbing the shampoo bottle. "Fine, you caught me. It's not the worst sight."
"It's the best sight, and you know it," she teases, taking the bottle and squeezing some into her palm. "Here, let me."
You stay still, as her hands run through your hair, digging her fingers into your scalp, massaging and letting the lather form. "You know, we're pretty hot on camera."
"You think so?"
"Yeah," Yeji replies, moving behind you so she can massage your scalp. "Like, it's hot. Watching us, you know? Seeing what it looks like."
"Guess so," you say, leaning back and letting the water do its magic.
"I was thinking, maybe we could make another… video."
"Yeji, seriously?"
She laughs, turning you around to face her. "Yeah, why not. It's hot. I like the idea of seeing myself getting railed by you. Don't really get to see what its like to blow a load all over me from your perspective."
"What did I say about being so horny?"
"That you love it," Yeji replies, helping to rinse out your hair.
"Just think about it—you, me, the bed, a camera. The possibilities are endless. I could be the sexy schoolgirl and you're the pervy teacher. Or we could do the whole nurse and patient thing, or—"
"Yeji, please."
"We could make a lot of money selling this kind of content. I mean, look at me. My ass is a national treasure. And you're not exactly lacking, either."
You can't help but sigh. "What the hell happened to just us enjoying the video? Making a memento?"
"Well, that was before I saw how hot watching you rearrange my guts was. With your huge cock and my pretty face and tits. Come on, we could have a side hustle going."
"Yeji, are you being serious right now?"
"Totally. Look, I'm just saying. We're graduating, and we're not gonna have a steady income. At least not at first. This would help. A little bit."
"Are you really in this for the money or do you just like the idea of people watching us?"
Yeji giggles. "I can't have both?"
"Yeji, the last thing we need is a bunch of strangers jerking off to videos of us. What if our classmates find out? Or the Dean?"
"Who the hell cares? They're not gonna give a shit. And it's not like the videos would have our names or anything. We can put on masks, change the audio, whatever."
"I'm not wearing a mask to fuck you, Yeji."
"Fine, no masks. My face is the money maker anyway. And we can have fun trying out a bunch of different scenarios and stuff."
"Yeji," you sigh. "Can I say no?"
"You can try, but dunno how well that'll work. I'm stubborn. Remember?"
"Yes, yes I do. Fine. Let's make some money then."
"Yay!" Yeji cheers, wrapping her arms around you. "We're gonna have so much fun, I promise. And we're gonna get filthy rich."
"That's not the point of this, Yeji."
"It should be."
---
Everything feels different now.
Graduation is less than a week away, and you've got a nice collection of videos featuring Yeji in the heat of the moment. You've unofficially become a cameraman, having to learn about angles and lighting and a host of other things.
The money is great, too. People love Yeji. They can't get enough of her. The way her face looks, contorting with pleasure. How her voice moans and purrs, the way her tits bounce and her ass claps. The views climb, the comments pour in, the tips come flooding.
You wonder how this is your life now—how you can look around in class and see everyone, normal people, and think to yourself how many of them watch videos of your girlfriend, naked and screaming your name, her pussy creaming all over your cock. Maybe even the professors, too.
The blowjob videos in the bathroom, with the bad lighting. Yeji in her cheerleader uniform, riding you and bouncing up and down on your cock. Her, tied up and blindfolded, being teased and toyed with. The one where she squirted so hard it got all over the camera lens. The ones where she's on her knees, getting face-fucked and waiting for the camera to zoom in, the shot ending with your load painting her face.
And the one that gets the most views, her bent over the bathroom counter, your hands gripping her hips and drilling her from behind.
You think about it in class. How you're sitting next to Yeji, while there's a high possibility that half the students have seen what her pussy looks like being pounded. How she looks when she's cumming, and how her asshole stretches around your cock.
And the fact that they've probably seen you cum all over her face and tits, seen how Yeji moans when your tongue is in her ass, when you're fucking her to tears and she's a quivering, moaning mess, begging for you to keep going.
All of this running through your mind, while the professor drones on and on about some subject or another.
"Hey," Yeji whispers, leaning over. "Wanna fuck during lunch?"
You don't even bother looking, just shake your head. "What do you think?"
"I'm asking because I think you need a break. You've been a little off lately. Everything okay?"
"I'm fine," you reply, a bit too quickly.
"Is it about the videos?"
"Maybe," you mutter, glancing over. "It's just weird, you know? Being in class and knowing at least one person has probably seen me cum in your mouth."
Yeji rolls her eyes. "You can't tell me it's not a turn-on."
"I'm not saying that. But—it's just a weird though. That's all."
"We can stop," Yeji says, staring at you. "If you want. I won't make any more videos. I'll delete the ones we have."
"No," you say, turning to her. "I'm not letting your money go to waste. You're right, it's a good source of income."
"It's our money. We're partners. If you don't like it, we'll stop."
You take a deep breath, sighing. "It's not that I don't like it. It's just that every time we fuck now it's on camera. Like, I feel like it's not the same. It's not like making a sex tape, it's… kind of like working, you know?"
Yeji nods. "I get it. Look, we can slow down. Do one a week. No more. How's that?"
"Yeah, that works. Thanks, Yeji."
She smiles, reaching under the desk to grab your hand. "Good. Now, what do you say, wanna fuck in the bathroom later? I'll wear your favorite skirt. You know, the one that barely covers my ass. And the fishnet thigh-highs. Just for you."
"Why do I feel like I don't deserve you?"
Yeji laughs, squeezing your hand. "You absolutely do. I'm the one who's lucky. Now, what do you say?"
"Yes. Fuck yes."
"Knew you'd say that."
---
"Think I can go again," Yeji gasps out, breath heavy while she collapses against you. "Fuck, I'm sore, but I can totally do it. Just gimme a minute."
"Jesus, Yeji," you laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "This is, what, round three already? My balls need a break."
"I think it's four," she replies, shifting and lying flat against you. "But who's counting, right?"
"Think we made enough content for like, two months, easy."
"I could never get tired of watching you cum in me on camera," Yeji says, smiling and tracing patterns on your chest. "It's hot."
"So you keep telling me," you say, kissing her head again.
There's a long silence, a few moments passing before Yeji speaks again. "What if we did a gangbang?"
"A what?"
"A gangbang," she repeats, propping herself up and staring down at you. "You know, lots of guys. Lots of cocks. All at once. Just, like, a bunch of people. Doing me. On camera."
"Are you insane? I'm not letting a bunch of random dudes fuck you."
Yeji smiles, her hand snaking its way down to your cock, gently stroking. "I was thinking more of like, friends. People we trust. Who knows, might be kinda fun."
"No. No way. Absolutely not."
"I was kidding, you idiot. Just wanted to see what your reaction would be. Nobody gets this pussy but you. That's a promise. But it would be kinda hot, wouldn't it? Seeing how many cocks I could take at once…"
"Yeji," you groan, shaking your head.
"Fine, fine. Just a thought."
"No thoughts like that. Especially not after fucking."
Yeji leans closer, fingers running through your sweaty hair. "What if it was you? With another girl. Just her, and me, together. Would that be so bad?"
"You want to fuck someone else?"
"No, I want to watch you fuck someone else. A girl as hot as me. And I'd just watch. Touch myself, play with her tits while you pound her pussy, sit on your cute face while she sucks your dick, all that."
"You don't want me to fuck you? That's new."
Yeji shrugs, giggling. "Sometimes it's nice to watch. You get off, and so do I. Win-win."
"Is this for the content?"
"No, not everything is about the money. Sometimes it's just because I'm a kinky little freak and I want to make you happy. That's all. See my boyfriend fucking a girl while I cum."
"Jesus Christ, Yeji."
"I mean, if you don't want to, fine, but I can ask a girl in class. Maybe Yuna, she's always had a crush on you. I've heard her talk about wanting your cock, she's said it to my face. I could invite her over, she could eat me out, you could fuck her. Then, I'll join in."
"I feel like you're getting the bad end of the deal."
"No," Yeji says, pressing a kiss to your lips. "Because then I get to see another girl getting railed by you, and I'll have someone pretty to make out with, and I'll be able to taste your cock on her tongue."
"You really are a little freak."
"Aren't I? So, what do you say, wanna invite her over so I can watch you absolutely destroy her? I bet she's super into anal, too, like me."
"Fine, if it'll shut you up. Let's do it."
Yeji squeals, her lips crashing into yours once more. "This is gonna be so much fun. Thank you."
---
Graduation passes and things don't really feel much different. No more classes, no more exams, no more grouchy professors. Just … the real world. A little scary, but at least now you have a stable cashflow, thanks to Yeji and her crazy ideas.
The money is a blessing, honestly. You're still trying to figure things out, and Yeji's popularity continues to soar. The money is more than enough for the two of you to rent a little apartment, order out more often than you ever did, and have a little extra for the future.
With the financial freedom comes a little extra creativity—new lingerie, toys, props, costumes. Better lighting, a better camera, and a new computer for editing. Yeji loves dressing up, posing, putting on a show. She's a natural.
Yuna becomes a part of your lives too. She's a pretty girl, eager to please and happy to do anything, especially if it involves making either of you cum. On camera or off. Yeji loves seeing her get fucked, likes the idea of watching another girl get ravaged on your cock, likes the idea of kissing her while she's riding you. Likes being on her knees next to her, seeing her ruined makeup, the tears in her eyes, the way she gets her face right next to hers, both of them waiting for you to blast all over their gorgeous fucking faces.
The videos get raunchier. You have Yuna over a lot, and the two of them get creative. She's got a nice ass, and an incredible pussy. Yeji seems to enjoy eating her out, and Yuna's not a stranger to doing the same, either. You fuck them, both, raw, one after the other, and watch them lick the cum from each other's wrecked holes, or grind their cunts on each other before you can even think to grab the camera.
And Yeji was right—Yuna loves anal. Almost more than Yeji, and that's saying a lot. Yuna loves being choked, loves getting spanked and slapped and having her hair pulled. Unsurprisingly, Yeji loves seeing it, watching another girl choke on your cock, get her asshole destroyed, get it pumped full of cum so she can eat it out of her, share the load with her.
So the next time you're at a restaurant, all those videos paying for the appetizers, the entrees, the wine, you can't help but wonder what the hell you've gotten yourself into. Yeji looks up and smiles. "Wanna order dessert?"
"Might as well," you laugh, looking back down at the menu. "That threesome video did crazy numbers. You were right."
Yeji beams. "Of course I was. People love Yuna. We should make more videos with her. She's fun. And cute. She looked so good getting spit-roasted."
"Can't deny that," you laugh. "She's good on camera. Really good. Like, you'd think she does this all the time."
"I know, right? I bet people would pay a lot of money to even see solo content from her. Pretty thing just touching herself. Getting all needy and wet, fucking herself with a toy while she begs on camera. Dark rope tied all over her milky skin… that's a gold mine."
"She might upstage us if we're not careful. Girl has that bratty vibe going that just makes you want to ruin her. People eat that up."
Yeji nods, taking a forkful of tiramisu once it's been set in front of her. You're quiet, watching her eat, thinking about how she's gotten even more beautiful. How the videos, the money, the whole situation hasn't really changed her at all.
You're staring, you realize, and she doesn't seem to mind one bit. In fact, she seems to enjoy it. Loves the attention, loves being the center of your world, of the entire universe.
Before you can even speak, Yeji does. "Want a bite?"
You reach for the fork she's holding, but a buzz in your pocket stops you. "Hold on," you say, reaching down and grabbing your phone. "Sorry, gotta take this."
"Sure," Yeji says, her lips wrapping around the fork and pulling the tiramisu into her mouth. You rise, walking away from the table, phone pressed to your ear and head towards the restroom.
When you head back, Yeji's already smiling at your return. "Everything okay?"
With more than a little apprehension, you sit, staring off into the distance. "No. Not really."
Yeji's entire demeanor changes, concern creeping across her face. She stops eating, placing the fork on the plate. "What is it? What happened?"
"I need to leave. Like, now. I need to catch a flight tonight. I'm really sorry, Yeji."
"Wait, hold on, what's going on?"
You pause, taking a deep breath. "I don't—it's family stuff. Don't wanna worry you. Look, just let's get the check, okay?"
"Okay," Yeji replies, still obviously concerned. "Do you want me to go with you? If it's family stuff, maybe I can help."
"No," you reply, almost a bit too harshly. "No. I can't ask that of you. This is my issue, not yours. It's like, a sixteen hour flight and—"
"Hey," Yeji interrupts, placing her hand over yours. "I don't care. I'll go with you. Whatever it is, whatever the problem, I'm here. If you need me, then I'm there."
"Yeji—"
"No," she interjects. "Don't 'Yeji' me. I'm not letting you fly halfway around the world alone. So, we're gonna pay the bill, and then we're going home and packing. I'm going with you."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing. It's not your fault. If something happened, I'm here. Always will be."
You exhale, trying to find the right words, something more meaningful to say than sorry. Instead, you just nod, squeezing her hand. "Y-yeah. Thanks. I really appreciate it."
"You don't have to thank me. Now come on, let's go," Yeji says, waving over the waiter.
---
You're hunched over the hotel balcony railing, staring off into the night, a lit cigarette between your lips. You don't smoke. Never have. But the occasion seems to call for it. You take a deep drag, exhaling, watching the smoke blow in the wind, and wondering how the fuck things have gone so wrong.
Yeji stands behind you, her hands on your shoulders, rubbing the tension out of your muscles. "It's going to be okay,"
"It's not."
"Don't talk like that," Yeji says, her hands sliding around your waist, pulling you into her. "I'm here."
"I know. I just—I don't know what to do. I never expected it to be this way. What am I supposed to do?"
Yeji sighs, resting her head against your back. "I wish I could tell you, but I don't have any answers. I'm just sorry this happened."
"It's not your fault."
"Still," Yeji replies, sighing. "I hate seeing you like this. How long has it been? Since the last time you saw her?"
You're quiet, the cigarette burning in your fingers. A long, slow drag. Another exhale. "A year at least. When summer break started, I went back. She was fine then. Mostly."
"Do you want me to be there? When you go and visit? I'll come with you. Do you want that?"
"Yeah," you murmur, nodding without even looking at her. "Please."
"Of course," Yeji says, arms tightening around you. "Whatever you need."
You put your cigarette out, turning and facing her. She's staring at you, a small smile on her lips, but you can see the worry in her eyes.
"Sorry."
"You don't have to keep apologizing."
"I know," you mutter, stepping forward and leaning against her. "Just, I dunno, feel like a burden."
"Don't. You're not a burden. It's a tough situation. There's no easy answers. All I know is I'm going to be here for you.
You nod, resting your head on her shoulder. "I really don't deserve you."
"Stop saying that," Yeji says, threading fingers through your hair. "Let's go inside, okay? It's a bit cold out here."
"Yeah," you sigh, nodding. "Yeah, let's go inside."
---
The flight back home is a blur. The only thing that stands out is Yeji, by your side, hand in hand. She holds it the entire time.
It feels surreal. But you do your best to ignore it. Instead, you focus on the present. The here and now.
And in the moment, Yeji is all you need. The best distraction you could ask for.
The videos continue. And, for a little while, you're able to forget everything else. To lose yourself in the fantasy world that's been built. The scenes get rougher, wilder, more depraved. Yeji seems to enjoy it, the crazier the better. And it helps you, or at least you tell yourself that. You feel bad about it. She doesn't.
You don't even care about the money anymore. It's not why you're doing it. The fact is that the more intense the scene is, the easier it is to forget everything. To push everything away, bury the pain, the frustration, the anger, and just… escape. The grip on her throat, the harder you're fucking her, the more it makes you forget. The camera doesn't even turn on, not for this—this is just for you. The aggression, the need, the desperation. It's rough, and Yeji doesn't stop you. Not when you're pushing her head into the mattress, not when you're slapping her ass, not when you're fucking her so hard she can barely speak.
You don't deserve her. Not in the slightest.
"It's okay," Yeji moans, her hands grabbing at your wrist, holding you against her throat. "I-it's okay, you can keep going. I can take it. Fucking ruin me, I-I can take it. Harder, please, please, fuck me. Use me, baby, use me, I can take it."
So you do. Until she's crying and drooling, tears streaming down her face and mascara running, her body a vessel for you, her legs wrapped around you and begging for more. The way you pull her off the bed, pick her up and fuck her against the wall, until she can't take it anymore and she's shaking, trembling, a quivering mess, and you're fucking her through it, through the tears, the sobs, the begging.
When your hands are in her hair, fucking her face, her makeup ruined, spit running down her chin and lipstick smeared, you're not thinking about anything else. Her throat bulging around your cock, her tongue running over your shaft, your balls slapping her chin, and her eyes looking up at you, pleading for anything but mercy.
And the more brutal you are, the harder you fuck her face, the better it is. For both of you. The way you cum down her throat when her head is dangling off the edge of the bed, how you watch her swallow, saliva and tears and depravity all over her face. How she can't stop gagging, can't catch her breath, can't do anything but take it, and when you're finished, when you're completely spent, she's there—a broken mess on her knees, covered in her own spit and yours and your seed, a picture that would give you the biggest paycheck if you weren't so busy worrying about other things.
She's the perfect distraction. You've always known that, but never more than now.
But, at some point, the distraction isn't enough. And the scenes get even rougher, and Yeji still doesn't stop you. You start to worry about her—you've never been like this. And she's never seen you like this.
It gets harder to take the edge off. Nothing's working anymore. You've got your cock buried in her ass, a hand on her throat, but you can't seem to chase that high anymore. All it's doing is making her beg for more, insisting you don’t have to be gentle, but you've given her everything, and it's still not enough.
The videos almost come to a halt. You struggle to look her in the eyes. You know you're taking it too far. And she still doesn't stop you. Seeing the bruises on her body, the welts from the belt on her ass, the bites, the scratches, the marks, they don't go away. She reassures you at every step of the way. It's okay. You're fine. She can take it.
You're not sure you believe her.
The next video you're not in it. Yeji's kneeling in front of the camera, surrounded by men. You don't know a single name, and neither does she. All you know is that they're there to use her. To fuck her, to fill her holes, to ruin her. To do anything they want. It's what she wanted, isn't it? You tell yourself that. You tell yourself this is just a fantasy. Nothing more. That you're forcing yourself to take a backseat, to sit and watch and let her do what she does best.
She's a mess. They all use her. One after the other, fucking her until she can't think straight. Cumming down her throat, on her face, in her pussy. Spitting on her, degrading her, calling her anything but her name. Slapping her face, her tits, her ass, treating her like a toy, and she loves every blissful second.
One fucking her throat, another taking her pussy, another stretching her asshole, a hard, throbbing cock in each hand like it's the most natural thing.
Like she was built for it, like she was made just to be filled, used and abused by anyone and everyone that wants a turn. It doesn't stop, and they keep using her, using your Yeji, treating her like she's a fucking sex doll. Like she doesn't have a fucking name, like she's nothing but a hole to pump and dump into.
You’ve a hand in your pants, almost reluctantly pumping your shaft, eyes fixated on the screen and knowing you're the reason she's being treated like this, because this is your idea of punishment. Because you still think you don't deserve her.
They're all over her, half a dozen bodies surrounding her, using her, destroying her. The finale is as explosive as expected, where she's on her knees, surrounded by the group, all of them jerking their cocks over her. The camera's angle is perfect, a view from above, catching her face, the way their thick cum shoots out of their cocks, landing on her pretty features. And she's smiling. Grinning. Loving every second. Sucking every drop out of them.
She's covered in it, her pristine makeup a forgotten mess, cum dripping down her chin, her cheeks, her forehead. Dripping out of her cunt, her ruined asshole, her lips glistening, her tits coated. And the whole time, you're telling yourself this is what you deserve. What you deserve for using her like a plaything, for treating her like she's not a person, like she's a toy. A fleshlight. Something to be broken and discarded.
The video makes enough money to last you a lifetime. More than enough rent for the next several years, easily. More than enough for a vacation in Tahiti at the drop of a hat.
And now, you're eating breakfast in the kitchen, the sunlight pouring in. Like you didn't just watch your girlfriend Yeji get railed by half a dozen buff guys and get covered in cum. Like it's any other day. Like it's just a job and nothing else. Like everything's normal.
Maybe it's the best distraction, because you're thinking about the way Yeji looked on her knees, getting annihilated, and not the situation at hand. Maybe that's what you're doing.
Yeji steps into the kitchen, wearing one of your t-shirts and little else. "Morning. You sleep well?"
You sip your coffee. It's bitter. "No."
"I figured. Sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"It's fine. You don't need to be walking on eggshells around me, Yeji."
"I can't help it. Just, I know it's a bad time."
She opens a cabinet, pulling a box of cereal down. Pours some into a bowl, then takes the milk from the fridge and adds some, slicing a banana and adding it on top. Then she sits next to you and eats, like this situation is everything normal.
"You're here, Yeji. No matter how bad things get, I have you. You're the best thing that's happened to me."
"I know," Yeji says, reaching out and squeezing your hand. "I wish there was something I could do. Anything."
"There's not," you sigh, sipping the coffee. "I'll go visit, that's all I can do. It'll be expensive, and—"
"Don't worry about the money," Yeji says, crunching on her cereal. "We have more than enough, and you need to be there. Money doesn't matter."
"But it's your money, too."
"No, it's not. It's our money. Your money, my money, our money. It's all the same."
You stare down at the mug. The black liquid, the steam rising, the bitterness that doesn't even phase you anymore.
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Go see her," Yeji says, pausing between bites. "It's all you can do."
"What about you? I don't want to leave you alone."
Yeji smiles, and it's still not one you recognize, reaching out and placing a hand on your cheek. "I'll be fine. Promise. And Yuna said she'll stop by. So I won't be lonely."
"Yeah, okay," you mutter, finishing your lukewarm coffee. "I'll call you when I land? I love you."
---
"Hey," Yeji says, joining you at the couch. She's dressed casually, a loose fitting tank top and short shorts, hair up in a ponytail. "How was the trip?"
"Long. Tiring. Glad to be home."
Yeji nods, settling into the seat next to you, resting her head on your chest. "That's good. I'm happy you're back."
"Me too."
Yeji is silent for a few moments. She doesn't know what to say, and you don't either. There's nothing, not really.
"So…" she starts, trying to ease the tension. "I got a call while you were gone."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Yeji says, shifting nervously. "I—I got an offer. A big one. Like, a contract with a major company."
"Really?" you repeat, not quite sure you heard her correctly.
"Yeah," Yeji laughs. "Surprised me, too. It's like, a lot of money, and it would mean I'd be shooting stuff with other people, and traveling and stuff, and I wouldn't be around as much. But it would help out with travel expenses, and the whole thing would only last like six months. And the payout is huge."
"Six months?"
"Yeah. Six. But it's not like we'd be separated forever. I can come home and visit. But if you don't want me to, I won't—"
"So like, fucking other guys?"
"No, not at all. They told me it's all solo stuff. Nothing like what we do together. So, no one else. Just me. And the camera guy, I guess. I won't have sex with anyone else. Not after last time. I just—I want to know if this is okay."
"Of course. Yeji, that's amazing."
"Really? You're okay with this? Because I can turn them down."
"Do you want to do it?"
Yeji is silent, staring down at nothing. When she looks back down, she nods slowly.
"Then do it. If it's something you want, then do it. It's your choice."
"We'll still see each other though. I only leave for a week at most once a month, they said. We can call, text, video call, whatever. So you won't have to worry about being alone,"
"Yeji," you interrupt. "It's okay. You're going to make a shit ton of money, and you're going to get to travel, and do a job that you're good at, and that you love. Do it. Make some money."
"It's just," Yeji begins, sighing. "I just want to be with you. And I feel bad. Like I'm leaving. Even if it's for six months. And I won't be gone the entire time, so—"
"I said it's fine. Go. Take the contract. You're not gonna get a chance like this again. So take it."
"I love you," Yeji says, reaching forward and placing a hand on your cheek. "Thank you. I love you so much. We'll get through this, and we'll figure it out. But, I can help you with money and everything else, so just focus on yourself."
"Yeah," you say, leaning forward and resting your forehead against hers. "I love you, too. This is a great opportunity. So go."
---
You're on the balcony again. Another cigarette. It's late—almost midnight, but Yeji isn't here this time. She's been gone for a few days now. Off filming, doing her thing. You're proud of her. But you miss her.
It's hard to keep yourself distracted. You haven't slept much, either. It's impossible. When you try, all you see is Yeji's face, smiling up at you, telling you it's okay. That everything will be okay.
You wish you could believe her.
It's cold out, but it doesn't bother you. You're standing outside, watching the traffic pass by. It's soothing almost. Comforting in a strange way. Without Yeji, you're not quite sure what to do with yourself.
You take a drag, blowing the smoke into the night. All you can do.
---
Six months go by. Six months that feel like a lifetime.
"Hey," Yeji says, a smile on her lips. She's beautiful. More beautiful than you remember. And she's wearing that stupid oversized hoodie again that she stole from you. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too."
Yeji closes the distance between you, wrapping her arms around you, hugging you tightly. You embrace her, feeling her body against yours, her warmth, her scent, all of it.
"How was the service?"
You're not sure how to answer that. How to even begin. So instead, you just stand there, holding her. "Fine. It was fine."
"I'm so sorry," she murmurs, her voice every bit apologetic. "I should've been there."
"Don't," you say, squeezing tighter. "You didn't even know her. It's not your fault."
"But—"
"Yeji," you sigh, pulling back and looking at her. "Seriously. It's not. You didn't have to be there."
"I can't help but feel like a shitty girlfriend. Off in Japan touching myself in front of a camera when you were dealing with that. I feel awful."
"I'm glad you weren't there. I couldn't—I don't want you to see me like that. You shouldn't have to. So don't feel bad, okay?"
"Okay," Yeji says, wiping her eyes. "Are you gonna be okay?"
"No. No, I don't think I'll ever be okay. But I have you, and that counts for a lot."
"I love you," she says, leaning in and kissing you softly. "I'll be here. I promise. For as long as you want me. I love you more than anything."
"I know. I love you, too."
---
You're on a flight again, but this time, it's not heading back home. This time, it's to see Yeji. You haven't seen her in a few weeks, and the distance is getting harder and harder.
The hotel is absurdly fancy. Like the type of place you only see in movies. It's ridiculous. It's more than a suite, it's like a penthouse. The view is incredible, and the size of the place is beyond belief.
And the bed is huge, and Yeji is in the center, lying down, smiling, wearing the same hoodie. Yeji pats the spot next to her, and you crawl into the bed, joining her. She moves towards you, resting her head against your chest, a hand running along your cheek.
"I'm so glad you're here," Yeji says, looking up at you. "I've missed you so much."
"Yeah, me too."
Yeji sighs, nuzzling her head against your neck. "It's been a rough few weeks."
"Yeah. For me, too."
There's a silence, an uncomfortable one. Like there's something weighing on her mind.
"Is everything okay?"
Yeji shifts, sitting up. "Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. It's just—they made me an offer. A better one."
"Better?"
"Yeah. Better. It would mean more money, a longer contract, and—and it's not just solo stuff anymore. It's not even porn.”
"What do you mean?"
"I would be," Yeji begins, swallowing. "It's more of a—a creative producer thing. Traveling around, doing what they need. Going places. It's not porn. It's like, the opposite of porn."
"I fail to see the problem here. That sounds pretty good."
"Because," Yeji says, her lip quivering. "I have to move. I have to move to Tokyo. They want me in Japan. And if I accept, I have to. And I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to leave you. Because then we're even further apart. We won't be able to see each other, not nearly as much. We'll just—we'll be apart. And I don't want that."
"If it's more money, then—"
"It's a lot of money," Yeji sighs. "Like, a lot of money. More than I could ever dream. It would be enough that we'd never have to worry about anything ever again. I would never have to film another video, not ever. And I'd make enough for us. For both of us."
"So, do it."
"But we'd be apart. We'd never see each other."
"Yeji," you sigh, taking a breath. "It's only a few hours. I'll come visit. You'll come visit."
"it's not the same. I want to be with you. I can't imagine a life without you. I can't."
You take a moment, a long pause. Trying to choose the right words, the ones that matter. The ones that will convince her.
"Yeji. If it's a good deal. Take it."
"But—"
"No," you say, cutting her off. "No. Take the offer. Take it and make as much money as possible. I want this for you. For us."
Yeji shakes her head, wiping her eyes. "I can't."
"You can."
"What if," Yeji says, her voice shaking. "What if—what if things don't work out. What if I'm gone and you get tired of waiting and then—"
"That's not gonna happen. Not ever."
"How can you be so sure? I've never been apart from you for that long. Ever."
"Because I love you, dummy. So, take the offer. And when you're done, and you've made enough money to buy a small country, then you can come back. We'll figure it out before then."
"Promise?"
"Yes. Promise."
---
"Happy birthday," Yeji says, giving you a wide grin. "I know it's not for a couple of days, but—"
You didn't even remember.
"Oh, yeah. Thanks."
"Did you forget?"
"A little."
"Dumbass," Yeji laughs. "Well, I got you a gift. So, there's that."
"You didn't have to."
"Don't be silly," she scolds, grabbing something off the bed nightstand. "You're my boyfriend, of course I had to. It's not much, but, well, you'll see."
She hands you a box, wrapped nicely, a red bow tied on top. You take it, ripping the paper and opening it.
Inside is a black collar. A very specific kind. A collar with the word kitten written on the front in pink.
"I don't wanna alarm you, but I think this may be a little too small for me," you tease.
Yeji blushes, a faint shade of red. "You're such an ass. It's not for you."
"It's not?"
"No," Yeji says, rolling her eyes. "It's for me. I figured since we're going to be apart, I'll have something to remember you by. And to think about."
"Kinky."
"You're such a jerk," Yeji says and punches your shoulder. "Do you like it?"
"I do. Very much. Wear it for me tonight?"
"Of course," she says, kissing your cheek. "For the whole weekend. Only for you."
---
The goodbyes never get any easier. The flights get longer, and the separation gets harder. Every time you say your farewells, it hurts more and more. And the worst part is, you don't know how long she'll be gone this time.
It's like the longer you're apart, the further apart you get.
It's the third or fourth cigarette today alone. You're on the balcony, again. Without Yeji. Watching the world go by like you're no longer a part of it.
You're not sure when it'll get easier. If it will ever get easier.
---
"Hey!" Yeji says, sitting down next to your stool at your favorite bar, a martini in hand. "Sorry, traffic was a bitch. Long time no see."
"Yeah," you reply, sipping your cocktail. "Been a while."
Yeji is wearing a tight red dress, her hair no longer pink but blonde, long, past her shoulders. High heels, the whole nine yards. You haven't seen her this dressed up in years, maybe ever. And the makeup is perfect, her lips full, her eyes bright, the eyeliner sharp.
"You look nice," you say, staring into her eyes.
"Thanks. I wanted to dress up. You look handsome, as always."
You force a smile. "I haven't seen you this dressed up since, well, I'm not even sure when."
"Well, this is a special occasion," Yeji giggles, sipping her martini. "This is our four year anniversary. Glad I could take off work and fly home."
"Me too."
"It's so good to see you," Yeji says, placing a hand on your knee. "I missed you. And the apartment. And our bed."
"And me."
"Yeah," she laughs. "And you. Obviously."
Everything seems out of place, and yet, normal. Like Yeji being here isn't something unusual. You should be happier. You should be overjoyed. You should be celebrating. And yet, you can't bring yourself to.
"How was Tokyo?"
"Lonely," Yeji says, expression dampening. "I miss you. I miss the apartment, the kitchen, everything. Being here—it doesn't feel the same."
You nod, staring down into your drink.
"What's wrong? I thought you'd be happy to see me. Is it the time? Or—"
"Nothing," you interrupt, sipping your drink. "Just happy you're home."
"Yeah," Yeji says, clutching her cocktail. "Me too."
There's silence where there shouldn't be. You should have a million things to talk about, and yet you don't. There's nothing. It's like there's a distance that wasn't here last time, when Yeji came back for a few days for vacation. Things are different. Unfamiliar.
"I want you to come see Tokyo. With me. It's so beautiful. So romantic. Maybe—maybe not for business. Just a vacation, just the two of us."
You nod absently, taking a sip. "Yeah. Sounds fun."
"Really?" Yeji asks, her excitement not dimming in the least. "Oh my god, I'm so excited. There are so many places I want to show you. It's so different from Korea. And there's this great market where the food is amazing and then, then—"
Yeji is talking but you're not hearing it. It's a distant memory. As if she's talking through static. You just nod, sip your drink, watch her and pretend everything's normal.
Eventually she notices something is up.
"Am I boring you?" she laughs, blushing. "I must be going on about all these stupid things. I know, just a lot on the mind. Can you blame me?"
You for another smile, placing your glass down on the bar counter. "No. I've missed your voice. The sound of your laughter. Seeing you smile."
"Are you sure? Because you haven't been very engaged lately."
"Sorry," you mumble, feeling your chest tighten.
"Stop apologizing," Yeji says. "Don't."
You don't look up from your drink, picking it up, taking another sip. "Yeji—"
"Yes, baby?"
"I'm glad to have you here. Even if it's only a short time."
She reaches out, placing a hand on your thigh and squeezing. Her touch feels quaint. None of this feels real. It's all foreign, it's like some alternate reality, that none of this is happening.
"I would stay forever if I could," she sighs. "I miss waking up next to you. I hate falling asleep without you next to me. This whole deal, it was a bad idea. The apartment they gave me isn't home, not even close."
Yeji is talking, but she's a million miles away, and it's all happening so fast, you can't process it. You can't keep up with her. You want to, but the words blur into each other, and it's impossible to decipher. "You have to try the food while you're in Tokyo. The sushi is so fucking good, I promise you."
"Yeji, I'm going back."
Her face changes immediately, a frown taking over the smile. "Back where? Back home?"
You can't look up, can't face her. Instead you just stare into your drink, watching the light filter through the alcohol. "Yeah. Back home."
"For how long?" Yeji asks. "A week? Two? I don't leave till Monday—"
"I'm not coming back."
The silence is deafening. It's painful. Like a vice around your neck, gripping tighter. You can't breathe, and you know Yeji probably can't either.
"No," she laughs weakly. "What—what do you mean you're not coming back?"
"I have to. You're there, doing your thing. Everything is falling apart back home. They need me. I can't stay."
"I—I'll come back. I can come back with you. I can wrap things up and—"
"You're happy in Japan," you interrupt, finishing off your drink and putting the glass back down on the counter. "I can't ask you to do that. This is your life. Your career. And you're good at it."
"I'll figure it out. I don't care, I'll talk to my boss—"
"Don't be ridiculous," you say, a lump forming in your throat. "You can't. You signed a contract. They can't release you without some penalty. Don't throw it all away. Not because of me."
Yeji stares at you, a mixture of confusion and fear on her face. "Who cares about the goddamn contract, we'll make it work. Like we always do. We'll make it work."
"You're happy in Tokyo, Yeji. Happier than I've ever seen you. Don't fuck that up for me."
She laughs, as if what you're saying isn't making sense. As if any of this isn't really happening. "You think I'm happy over there without you? In my shitty little apartment all alone? With my bad Japanese? I miss you every goddamn day. Everything hurts without you, and I've been a total mess and—"
"Stop," you interrupt. "Stop it."
Yeji reaches forward, grabbing onto your shoulder. "I'm coming back. And when I do, things will go back to the way they were. Okay? I love you, and that won't ever change. I know things haven't been great. I know—I know I'm busy. But that'll get better, you'll see, and—"
"We can't keep doing this," you sigh, turning towards her.
"Keep doing what?"
"This," you repeat. "We can't. It's not fair. To either of us. I have to take care of my family, and you can't just ditch everything and move back home with me. You can't."
"That's bullshit and you know it," Yeji scoffs, tears starting to run down her face. "I would do anything for you. I would."
"And I can't let you do that."
"Don't tell me what to do," she replies, a scowl on her face. "Don't tell me what's best for me. I'll be the judge of that."
"No," you say, wiping your eyes. "I love you. But it's not the same. I can't live a life where we're separated, where we only see each other a few days a month. It's not—it's no way to live. We both know this."
"You think I want that, too? To live apart? To have a cold bed every night? To eat ramen on my couch alone?"
"No," you reply. "I don't. I can't imagine a life without you. But I can't ask you to come back home with me. To abandon your new life."
"You're not asking me to do anything. I'm choosing to. Because I love you."
"And I love you, too," you reply, feeling your heart sink deeper. "More than anything. Which is why I can't keep doing this. Why I won't keep doing this. We deserve better."
"Better than what? Better than us?"
You don't answer her, you can't. If you do, then it becomes real, and then there's no going back.
"Please, don't," she pleads. "Please."
"What the fuck do we do, Yeji?" you ask, swallowing, trying to catch your breath, trying not to lose it. Trying not to break down in front of her.
"I-I don't know. I don't know."
"I don't either. The only thing I know is when I get back on that flight and go back to Seoul, I'm not gonna be coming home to a bed with you in it. And that kills me."
"I can change that. Just give me a week. Two, tops. Then I'll come back with you."
You don't look up, keeping your gaze firmly planted the drink in your hands, trying your damnedest not to lose your composure. Trying not to break, trying to stay strong. For her, because the moment she sees the cracks, she'll break, and then there's no fixing it.
"Are—are you," Yeji stammers, her lip quivering, fresh tears falling, one after the other. "Are we breaking up?"
You can't even believe the words coming out of her mouth, much less that she's the one saying them. That it's even coming up, even a thought. "Trust me, Yeji. That's the last thing I want right now."
She gets up from her chair, walking towards you, her arms wrapping around your neck, holding you tightly against her. "Good. Then we won't."
Maybe you're just selfish. Maybe you're just staving off the inevitable. Maybe you just don't have the strength to break her heart. Maybe you can't bear to watch her cry another tear. Or maybe you just don't know how to say goodbye.
"Okay," you murmur. "We won't."
---
You stare at the silver key in your outstretched palm, the one for your apartment. The key to your apartment in Seoul that Yeji hasn't lived in for a few months. And she's not even here to witness you locking it for the final time.
Not exactly a bittersweet goodbye. More bitter than anything else. You drop the key through the office mail slot, the sound of it clinking against the bottom echoing loudly in the empty hallway. Your phone vibrates.
Yeji: You made it?
Yeah. Call you when I get home.
Yeji: Okay. Love you.
Love you too.
Once again you're on a flight. And once again, Yeji isn't on it.
---
You're in Tokyo. It's been a few months. Yeji invited you for a long weekend, and you were stupid enough to accept.
It's strange seeing her in person, being this close. But also the strangest thing to normalcy, after such a long period of time. Yeji's apartment is in a quieter neighborhood, it's nice. Small, but nice. And the view of the city is beautiful, even from here you can see the skyline, and it's breathtaking.
It reminds you of everything you should have together. The little garden on the patio, the cozy couch in the living room, the quaint little kitchen, all of it. You should be here, in this place. And yet, you aren't. And it's not Yeji's fault. But that doesn't make it sting any less.
"Do you like it?" Yeji asks, bringing two glasses of red wine out onto the small balcony.
"Yeah. I do. It suits you."
You stand against the railing, looking over the city. A light drizzle falls from the sky, as if even the weather is mourning your situation.
Yeji walks up, standing next to you. The smell of her perfume is exactly the same, a welcome aroma you've been without for a while. You missed it. You miss her.
The months without her feel like an eternity, and yet the long weekend feels like seconds. And once it's over, the void will just be deeper. The emptiness more torturous. The distance even greater. You shouldn't be here. But you are. Because you're an idiot, and you'll take any excuse you can get, to see Yeji again, even for a short while. Even if it kills you inside.
"Thanks," she replies, holding the wine out to you. You take it, taking a sip. It tastes like nothing. The flavor is all but absent. Or maybe its because the only taste in your mouth is bitterness.
You don't say anything. It's as if any and all words you might've said, you've already said a hundred times over. And none of it matters, not a bit. You look over at her, and her hair is longer, and she looks even more beautiful, even more breathtaking than you ever thought possible. You just wish you didn't have to see it, not from such a distance, and not for a single weekend.
"I've missed you," she says, looking over at you. "Every single day. You're always in my thoughts, in my head. I'm not me without you. Not even a little bit."
"I'm right here," you reply, trying not to fall into this. "I'm not going anywhere."
"It's not the same. You know that."
"No, it's not."
"So, what do we do? How do we fix this? It's either we continue these weekends, where I only get to see you for a couple days, or—"
"Yeji," you interrupt. "No. Please, don't even suggest it."
She doesn't answer for a while, a long, awkward silence between the two of you. The rain falls heavier now, the wind picking up, a cold breeze cutting right through you.
"I won't. I'm sorry. I just, I hate this. I hate everything about this. This is all my fucking fault for taking that stupid porn job, for taking the offer after. I hate it."
You place your glass down, turning towards Yeji, your arms wrapping around her tightly. She cries into your chest, and you just hold her, rubbing her back softly. "It's okay. Don't say that."
"I-I don't know how I ever thought I could leave you behind."
"Don't. It's not your fault. Don't even suggest it. Not once."
You look up towards the dark clouds overhead, the rain falling harder on the balcony floor. Yeji clinging tightly to you like if she lets go she might never see you again. You squeeze tighter, kissing her on top of the head, not caring that your clothes are getting soaked.
"I'm here, living in Tokyo, making more money than I'll ever need in a lifetime, but none of that matters. Nothing. It means nothing without you. None of this is worth it if I don't have you by my side."
"Yeji, please, stop it."
"No. It's the truth. I know I said this would be temporary. But it's not. I can't. I can't do it. Not even another day, another hour. Not even another goddamn second."
The rain continues to pour. You kiss the top of Yeji's head. The smell of her shampoo brings you back to simpler times, to happier memories, of all the things you wished you still had. "What the fuck are we supposed to do, Yeji?"
Yeji doesn't answer, crying into your chest. She doesn't stop, and neither does the rain. It doesn't feel like it ever will. It's like you'll never find an end to all of this.
"Yeji—"
"Move in with me," Yeji begs. "Don't go. Don't get on that plane Monday. Don't."
You just stare at the night sky above you, the dark clouds rolling over. The lump in your throat doesn't get smaller. "Yeji. Don't make this harder. Please."
"I-I know, I'm selfish. I know, I'm so sorry. I'm being such a selfish bitch. You can't ditch your life to come live with me here. It's not fair to ask that, and I'm so sorry. Maybe we s-should—maybe we should just end things. Tonight. No more weekends. No more flights back and forth. No more—"
Yeji stops, burying her face back in your chest, crying. You squeeze harder, not letting go. Not even a little.
"I can't give up on you, Yeji. I won't."
"Please. I'm not asking you to give up. But we can't—this isn't working. We've barely talked in months. And when we do it's never enough, I want to spend every minute with you but I can't. And I can't keep asking you to give up everything, just for me."
You hate it when Yeji is right. You hate the truth of it. You hate every last goddamn word, but none more than this one. And that makes it all the more real, all the more painful, all the more soul-crushing.
She pulls away from your chest, looking up at you, tears flowing. She looks beautiful even when she cries. It's the last thing you want to see, and it kills you to know this might be the last time you see it.
"Y-yeah," you mutter, your eyes blurring, unsure of what just left your lips. "Yeah. Okay."
She nods, trying to wipe away the tears that won't stop flowing, one after the other. You can't stop them either, and neither of you can do anything but fall further apart. "Okay. I love you. I'll always love you, no matter what. Don't ever forget that."
You kiss her one last time, tasting her for what you might have to believe is the last time, your hands cradling her cheeks.
"I know, Yeji," you say, breath heavy, trying not to let yourself break down completely, but you're already losing this fight. "I know. I love you, too. So fucking much. You'll always be my kitten, Yeji."
Yeji breaks out in a sad, almost-cackling laugh, clutching onto you tightly. "Always, baby. Always."
So you wipe her tears, letting yours run free, unbothered by anything else. Yeji places her forehead against yours, squeezing her eyes shut, her lips quivering, crying even harder.
You know there's a chance of saving this. But this isn't that. It's the opposite. It's letting go. And that's not what either of you wants, but you're so tired, you're exhausted. And the thought of spending even another second without Yeji feels impossible, even for another day, another heartbeat.
But there's nothing else to do. Not a goddamn thing, and maybe letting her go is the kindest thing you can do. Maybe.
