Aania

“Don't listen to him, I’ll cook for you every day for a month,” Mingyu added, voice dropping into that deep register he thought was irresistible. “Steak, pasta, whatever you want. Please?”

Youmi laughed softly, the sound gentle but firm as she pried her hand free and ruffled DK’s hair like he was a puppy. “You two are really nice and I’m really flattered, but… I’m sorry. I can’t.”

The two men groaned in unison, dramatic as always, collapsing onto the couch like they’d been shot. Youmi just smiled that same patient, kind smile she always gave them—the one that somehow made the rejection hurt less and more at the same time.

From the doorway, you watched the whole thing with a half-empty bag of snacks in your arms, trying not to laugh too loudly. Youmi’s eyes found yours immediately. The way her expression softened, the subtle way her shoulders relaxed… it was instant. Like you were the only good thing in the room.

“Saved by my girlfriend,” Youmi teased as she walked over, slipping her arm around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. She pressed a quick kiss to your temple, lingering just a second longer than necessary. To you, it was just playful best-friend stuff. To her, it was oxygen.

DK clutched his chest. “Ugh. Rub it in, why don’t you.”

“You two should just date each other already,” you joked, bumping Youmi’s hip with yours. “Solve everyone’s problems.”

Mingyu muttered “unfair advantages, and why would I date Seokmin, ew” he said while DK threw a pillow at you. You dodged it easily, laughing, and dragged Youmi toward your room down the hall. “I'm stealing her, it's our sleepover time.”

Youmi let you pull her away without protest, waving half-heartedly at the two sulking boys. The moment you stepped out the front door of the house, the sharp night chill wrapped around both of you. She instinctively stepped closer, shoulder brushing yours as you hurried down the driveway toward your car.

As you pulled Youmi away, you didn't notice the way Mingyu and DK exchanged a sudden, knowing look behind your backs. Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck, sighing softly.

“She really has no idea, does she?”Seokmin muttered, his dramatic posture dropping into genuine pity as he watched Youmi follow you like a sunflower turning toward the sun. “None,” Mingyu sighed, shaking his head. “Poor Youmi. She's fighting a losing battle against a girl who thinks a fake girlfriend title is just a joke.”

Both doors clicked shut behind you, sealing out the cold. You exhaled loudly, rubbing your hands together before pushing the key into the ignition.

“That party was ass, don’t you think?” you groaned, turning the heat on full blast.

Youmi hummed in agreement, leaning her head back against the seat. “Yeah...” Her voice was soft, almost distracted.

The ride home was quiet, but comfortable. Streetlights washed over her face in slow golden waves as you drove. You kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the center console. After a few minutes, you reached over and laced your fingers with hers without thinking twice—just like you always did.

Youmi’s breath caught.

She stared down at your intertwined hands, your thumb absently stroking the back of hers. The simple touch sent heat rushing through her chest, tight and aching. Every time you did things like this—so casually, so innocently—it felt like you were twisting the knife deeper without even realizing it.

How do you not see it? she thought, biting the inside of her cheek. How can you hold my hand like this, call me your girlfriend in front of everyone, kiss my cheek, flash me that pretty smile… and still think it’s just ‘best friend’ stuff?

She squeezed your hand back. You didn’t seem to notice the difference, only smiled softly and kept driving, humming along to the faint music playing through the speakers.

The silence stretched. Youmi’s gaze drifted to your profile—your focused eyes on the road, the gentle curve of your lips, the way your hair fell against your neck. Her heart clenched so hard it hurt. She wanted to say it. Right now. Pull the car over, cup your face, and finally confess how completely, pathetically in love she was.

But the fear of ruining this—of losing the sleepy cuddles, the playful kisses on the cheek, the way you dragged her into your bed for movie marathons—kept her mouth shut.

For now.

When you finally pulled into the driveway of your apartment, you turned off the engine but didn’t let go of her hand right away. Instead, you turned to her with that bright, effortless smile.

“Shower first, then face masks and snacks? I bought those strawberry ones you like.” Youmi nodded “…Yeah. Sounds perfect.”

She was one more casual touch away from breaking.

Youmi sat on the edge of your bed, watching as you stripped off your hoodie without a second thought, tossing it aside. Your tank top rode up as you stretched, exposing the underside of your boobs, of course, you were not wearing a bra. She swallowed hard, fingers tightening in the blanket.

“You really turned them down again?” you asked, grinning as you flopped beside her. “They’re gonna fuck each other outta desperation at this rate.”

She shrugged, eyes tracing the curve of your neck, the way your hair fell across your shoulder. “They’re sweet. But they’re not…” Her voice trailed off.You turned onto your side, propping your head on your hand, completely unaware of how close your faces were. “Not what?”

Youmi’s gaze dropped to your lips for half a second before flicking back up. Her heart hammered so loudly she was sure you could hear it. Every casual touch, every sleepy cuddle during movie nights, every time you jokingly called her “baby” or “my girl”… it had been piling up for months. Years, really. Since the very first time you’d grabbed her hand and declared her your favorite person in the world.

She was running out of gentle deflections. Running out of ways to pretend this was still just friendship.You reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, thumb brushing her cheek. “You okay? You look a little flushed.”

Youmi closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo and the faint sweetness of the lip balm you always wore. Her control frayed another dangerous inch.

How much longer can I do this?

“Y-yeah, they’re just… not my type,” Youmi answered, you arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. You shifted closer on the bed, your tank top clearly wasn't hiding much. Youmi could clearly see your hardened niples, and it was driving her crazy.Youmi had to force her eyes upward.

“Now that I think about it,” you said, tilting your head, “you’ve never told me what your type is? I haven’t even been able to find out about any of your boyfriends in all these years we’ve been friends. That’s kinda suspicious, Youmi-ya.”

Youmi let out a weak laugh, trying to play it off. “It’s not suspicious. I’m just… private.”

You hummed, unconvinced, and suddenly sat up on your knees. Without warning, you peeled your tank top off completely, tossing it toward the hamper in the corner, then standing up heading to your clóset to find another shirt that was more comfortable. Youmi’s brain blue-screened for a second at the sight of your bare skin, the way your breasts moved freely as you stretched your arms above your head with a satisfied little groan.

“God, that feels better. That party made me all sticky,” you muttered casually after coming back with a white shirt that covered half your ass, 'cause of course you were only wearing some panties, like it was nothing. Then you turned back to her with that bright, innocent smile. “So? Tell me. What’s your type? I need details.”

Youmi’s fingers dug harder into the blanket. She could feel her face heating up. “I… I like someone who’s kind. Someone I feel comfortable with. Who makes me laugh without trying.”

You nodded eagerly, crawling a little closer until you were right beside her again. Your shoulder brushed against her as you reached out and tucked that same strand of hair behind her ear again, your fingers lingering this time, tracing down the side of her neck slowly.“Mhm, mhm. Go on,” you encouraged, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Height? Style? Personality?”

Every light touch felt electric to Youmi. Your scent, the warmth of your skin so close, it was too much. She swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to pull you into her lap right then.“I… I like girls who are confident,” she managed. “Girls who aren’t afraid to be themselves. Who are… really pretty without even realizing it.”

You grinned, clearly pleased. “Ooh, so you do like girls. That makes sense.” You flopped back onto the bed beside her, stretching out on your side so you were facing her directly. One of your legs casually draped over hers, your bare thigh pressing warmly against her.

Youmi short-circuited again.

You didn’t seem to notice. Instead, you reached out and started playing with the hem of Youmi’s shirt, fingers idly brushing the skin just above her waistband.

“So… anyone specific?” you asked softly, voice teasing now. “You can tell me, you know. I’m your girlfriend,” you added with a playful wink, using the nickname you always threw around so carelessly.

Your fingers kept tracing lazy patterns on her stomach, innocent little circles that made Youmi’s breathing turn shallow. She could feel her pulse hammering between her legs. Every casual touch, every time you called yourself her girlfriend, chipped away at her sanity.

She wanted to grab your wandering hand. Pin it above your head. Kiss you until you finally understood what you did to her.

Instead, she whispered hoarsely, “Yeah… there’s someone.”

Your eyes lit up with excitement. You scooted even closer, practically pressing your body against hers now, your chest brushing her arm as you propped yourself up on one elbow.“Tell me everything,” you demanded cutely, lips curved in that sweet, dangerous smile.

Youmi closed her eyes for a second, breathing in your scent, feeling the heat of your skin against hers.

Youmi stared down at you. Your eyes were wide and glittering with pure, unadulterated curiosity, totally blind to the absolute wreckage you were causing inside her. Your hand was still resting casually on her hip, your bare thigh draped over hers, heavy and warm. You looked so soft, so completely trusting—and so devastatingly beautiful in nothing but that """"oversized"""" white shirt and panties.

“Tell you?”Youmi’s voice was barely a whisper, a ragged sound that caught in her throat. “Yeah! Come on, Youmi-ya,” you pouted, shifting your weight slightly. The movement caused your chest to brush against her arm again, “We don't keep secrets. Who is she? Do I know her?” “You know her,” Youmi said. The words slipped out before she could stop them.

You gasped, your face lighting up even more as you hooked your chin on her shoulder, bringing your lips dangerously close to her ear. “I do?! Is it someone from the party? Wait... is it someone from the company? Tell me, tell me!”

That was it. The final thread of Youmi’s control snapped. The careless playing, the oblivious teasing, the way you could casually strip in front of her and throw around words like girlfriend without understanding the agonizing reality of what that meant to her—it was too much. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't pretend for another second. Before your brain could even process the sudden shift in the room's energy, Youmi reached down and grabbed your wrist. Her grip wasn't painful, but it was firm, completely halting the lazy, teasing circles your fingers had been tracing on her skin.

“Youmi?” you blinked, your playful smile faltering slightly at the sudden seriousness in her eyes. “Stop,” she breathed, her voice dropping into a register you had never heard from her before. It wasn't the gentle. Desperate. You shifted, suddenly hyper-aware of how close your bodies were, how little clothing you were wearing, and how hot Youmi's skin felt where it touched yours. “What's wrong? I was just joking around—” “That's the problem,” Youmi interrupted, her voice trembling as she looked down at your intertwined wrists. She slowly leaned over you, trapping you beneath her gaze.  “You're always joking. You call me your girlfriend. You hold my hand in the car. You crawl into my bed, you kiss my cheek, you do... this...” Her eyes flicked down to your bare legs tangled with hers, then back up to your eyes. “...and it's just a game to you.” Your breath hitched. The excitement in your chest suddenly flipped into a flutter of nervous, racing heartbeats. “Youmi, we're best friends, I just—”

“She’s short,” Youmi interrupted again, her gaze dropping to your lips, her breathing shallow and uneven. “She has the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen. She drives me crazy because she doesn't think before she speaks, and she has absolutely no idea what she does to me when she looks at me.” Your heart hammered against your ribs, a sudden, wild realization finally piercing through your obliviousness. The warmth of her body hovering over yours suddenly felt entirely different. It felt so, intimate “Youmi-ya...” you whispered, your voice losing all its playful edge. Your eyes widened as you looked up at her

“It's you,”

Youmi confessed, the words pouring out like a broken dam, her voice cracking with the sheer agony of keeping it in for so long. She let go of your wrist, only for her hand to slide up to your face, her thumb gently but firmly pressing against your lower lip. “It’s been you for years. So please... stop calling yourself my girlfriend unless you actually mean it. Because I am breaking, and I can't keep pretending this is just 'best friend' stuff.” The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of your matching, ragged breaths.

Before you could respond, she caught your wrist again, pinning it gently but firmly above your head. Her other hand slid down your side, claiming every inch she touched.

“Youmi…” you breathed, heart racing.

“Shh.” She leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “You’ve teased me for years. Walking around in nothing but tiny shirts and panties, calling yourself my girlfriend, flashing me those pretty tits like it’s nothing… You have no idea how many nights I’ve laid awake next to you, soaked and aching, forcing myself not to touch you.”

Her hand slipped under the hem of your white shirt, palm hot against your stomach.

“Now you’re going to be good for me.” Her voice dropped even lower, possessive edge sharpening every word. “Strip for me, baby. Slowly. Show me what’s always been mine.”

You swallowed hard, cheeks burning. The shift in her was dizzying — gentle Youmi suddenly sounding so hungry, so in control. But the heat between your legs only grew.

Shakily, you sat up when she released your wrist. Youmi leaned back on her knees, watching you with dark, unwavering eyes as you grabbed the bottom of your shirt.

“That’s it,” she murmured, licking her lips. “Take it off for me. Let me see those pretty tits I’ve been dying to taste.”

You pulled the shirt over your head and dropped it aside, bare from the waist up. Your nipples were already hard, flushed under her stare. Youmi’s breath hitched, but she didn’t move to touch you yet.

“Panties too,” she commanded softly, voice thick. “Stand up first. Let me look at you.”

You stood on slightly unsteady legs right beside the bed. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, you slowly slid them down your thighs, stepping out of them. Youmi drank in every inch — your breasts, the curve of your waist, the slick shine between your thighs.

“Fuck… look at you,” she groaned, one hand fisting the sheets like she was physically holding herself back. “So pretty. So fucking wet already, and I haven’t even touched you yet. All this time you’ve been mine and you didn’t even know it. Give me a little spin, baby. Let me have a look at that gorgeous ass.” you did as you were told.Ane she reached out, but only to tug you back onto the bed, laying you down on your back. Then she climbed over you, fully clothed still, caging you in.

Youmi’s hand finally slid between your thighs, two fingers gliding through your soaked folds. You gasped sharply.

“So messy for me already,” she whispered hotly against your neck, nipping the skin. “This pussy has been teasing me for years. Every time you cuddled up to me in bed, every time you bent over in those tiny shorts… it was always mine. Say it.”

“It’s yours,” you whimpered as her fingers circled your clit slowly, deliberately.

“Louder, baby.” She pressed one finger inside you, curling it just right. “Tell me who this pretty cunt belongs to.”

“You, Youmi, it belongs to you, oh shit.” you moaned, hips twitching.

“Good girl.” She added a second finger, pumping them deeper while her thumb rubbed firm circles on your clit. Her mouth latched onto your breast, sucking hard on your nipple before switching to the other, leaving faint marks. Possessive. Claiming.

You reached for her instinctively, but she caught your wrist again and pinned it back above your head.

“No touching,” she growled softly against your skin. “You’ve had me suffering for so long… now you’re going to lie there and take everything Mommy gives you. Understand?”

You nodded frantically, another moan spilling out as she thrust her fingers faster.

“Look at me,” she demanded. You met her eyes, hazy with pleasure. “I love you. I’m so fucking in love with you it hurts. And from now on, no more games. No more ‘just best friends.’ You’re my girlfriend for real. My girl. Mine to touch, mine to fuck, mine to love.”

Her fingers curled perfectly against that spot inside you while her thumb kept working your clit. The possessiveness in her voice, the way she watched your face like she owned every reaction — it pushed you right to the edge embarrassingly fast.

“Youmi- Yo-youmi- I’m gonna-!”“Come for me, baby,” she breathed, kissing you deeply, almost desperately. “Nuh-uh” she pulled out her fingers, making you whimper by the sudden loss, “W-why? Yo-youmi, I was, I was so close.” your tone was desperate.

Youmi’s lips curved into a wicked, barely-restrained smile as she watched your face twist in desperation, hips chasing her hand pathetically after she pulled her fingers away.

“Aww, baby… were you really about to cum that fast?” she cooed, voice dripping with mock sympathy. She brought her glistening fingers to your lips and pushed them inside your mouth. “Suck. Taste how pathetic and needy you are for me.”

You whimpered around her fingers, tasting yourself while she slowly fucked them in and out of your mouth.

“You don’t get to cum yet,” she whispered, leaning down to bite your collarbone, leaving another mark. “Not after years of torturing me. You’re going to lay there like a good girl and let Mommy play with her pretty pussy until I’m satisfied.”

She slid her fingers back between your thighs, this time pushing three inside you in one smooth thrust. The stretch made you cry out, back arching. Youmi curled them perfectly against that sensitive spot and started pumping slowly, torturously, while her thumb barely brushed your swollen clit — just enough to keep you on the edge without letting you fall.

Every time your moans got louder and your walls started fluttering around her fingers, she slowed down or pulled back completely, leaving you whining and trembling.

“Pleaseeee- Youmi, please, I can’t, just, let me, let me cum, I, I can't!”

“You can,” she growled, sucking hard on your nipple until it was swollen and sensitive. “You’ll take everything Mommy gives you, sweetie. This cunt is mine to edge, mine to tease, mine to ruin.”

She kept you like that for what felt like forever.“Look at you… dripping all over my hand. Such a messy little slut for your "best friend", huh? All those times you flashed me and called me your girlfriend… you were just begging to be fucked like this, weren’t you?”

Youmi’s fingers slowed to a torturous crawl inside you, curling just enough to press against that spongy spot that made your toes curl, but never fast enough, never hard enough. Your hips bucked desperately, chasing the friction, but she simply pinned your thigh down with her free hand and tsked softly.“Shhh, baby. No rushing Mommy,” she murmured, voice low and velvet-rough against your ear. Her lips brushed your jaw, then trailed wet kisses down your neck, sucking another bruise into your skin like she wanted the whole world to see it tomorrow. “You look so fucking pretty like this—spread open, dripping, crying for me. All mine.”

You whimpered around the taste of yourself still lingering on your tongue, eyes glassy as you stared up at her. The contrast was dizzying: Youmi fully dressed, calm and in control, while you lay beneath her completely naked, trembling, and aching so badly it hurt.

“Please… Mommy,” you tried, the word slipping out shy and broken. It made her eyes darken instantly.

“Fuck, say that again.”

“Mommy, please let me cum,” you begged, voice cracking. “I’ll be so good, your good girl. Just please, pleaseee!”

Youmi rewarded you by thrusting her three fingers deeper, scissoring them open to stretch you wider. Your back arched hard off the bed, a loud moan tearing from your throat. She watched your face hungrily, drinking in every twitch, every flutter of your walls around her.

But the second your breathing turned ragged and your clit started throbbing under her lazy thumb, she pulled back again—completely this time. You sobbed at the empty feeling, hips jerking uselessly into the air.

“You’re not cumming until I’ve had my fill of this,” she said, sliding down your body. She settled between your spread thighs, pushing them wider apart with strong hands. Her breath ghosted over your soaked pussy and you shivered violently. “Years, baby. I’ve wanted to taste you for years.”

Then her mouth was on you. Youmi licked a long, slow stripe up your folds, moaning at your taste like it was the best thing she’d ever had. Her tongue circled your clit before sucking it gently between her lips. Two fingers pushed back inside you immediately, pumping in a steady rhythm while she devoured you.

“Oh my god- Youmi,fuck-” Your hands flew to her hair, gripping tight.

She pulled off,“Hands above your head. Now. Or I stop.”

You obeyed instantly, fisting the sheets instead. She hummed in approval and dove back in, eating you out like she was starving. The wet, obscene sounds of her tongue and fingers filled the room, mixed with your broken moans and whimpers.

Every time you got close, thighs shaking around her head, she slowed down or switched to soft kitten licks until the edge faded. Then she’d suck hard on your clit again and curl her fingers just right, bringing you right back to the brink.

Tears pricked your eyes. “Mommy, I can’t- I need to cum, pleasepleaseplease!”Youmi looked up at you from between your legs, lips shiny with your slick, eyes blown wide with lust and love. She added a third finger again, stretching you deliciously, and spoke against your pussy.

“You can take it. You’re going to take everything I give you tonight. And when I finally let you cum, you’re going to scream my name so loud the neighbors know exactly who this pussy belongs to.”

She sealed her mouth around your clit and sucked hard, fingers fucking into you faster, deeper. Your whole body tensed, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your legs started shaking uncontrollably.

You were so close—right there— and Youmi pulled away completely again.

You let out a wrecked sob, body collapsing against the bed as another orgasm was cruelly denied. She crawled back up your body, kissing your stomach, your breasts, your neck, until her face hovered over yours.

“Look at me, baby.”

You did, eyes wet and desperate. “I love you,” she whispered, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself on her tongue. “I love you so much it fucking hurts. And I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”

She reached down and pushed four fingers inside you this time—slow, careful, but insistent. The stretch burned so good you keened, head falling back.

“That’s it… open up for Mommy. Such a greedy little cunt.”

Her thumb found your clit again, rubbing tight, fast circles while her fingers worked you open. This time she didn’t stop. She kept the pace brutal and perfect, mouth latching onto your nipple and biting down gently. Your orgasm crashed into you without warning. You screamed her name—loud, broken, “Youmi- Mommy, fuuuuck—!” Your walls clamped down around her fingers, gushing around them as waves of pleasure ripped through you. She didn’t stop, fucking you through it, drawing it out until you were shaking and oversensitive.

Even then, she kept her fingers buried deep, kissing you slow and deep while you came down.

When you finally stopped trembling, she pulled her fingers out gently and brought them to your mouth again.

“Clean them,” she ordered softly.

You obeyed, sucking obediently, eyes hazy with bliss.Youmi smiled, brushing damp hair from your forehead.

“Good girl. But we’re not done.” She kissed the corner of your mouth, voice dropping back into that possessive growl. “Turn over, baby. Ass up. Mommy wants to see how many times she can make her girlfriend cum tonight.”

Youmi’s eyes gleamed with dark hunger as you obediently rolled over onto your stomach and pushed yourself up onto your knees, ass raised high for her. Your face pressed into the sheets, still trembling from the aftershocks of your first orgasm. She ran her palms possessively over your ass, squeezing the soft flesh before spreading you open.

“Look at this pretty pussy… still twitching and dripping for Mommy,” she murmured, voice thick. Without warning, she pushed three fingers back inside you, fucking you deep and fast from behind. Her other hand reached around to rub your swollen clit in tight, merciless circles.

You cried out, oversensitive and raw, but she didn’t slow down.

“Too much—Youmi—Mommy, please—!”

“You can take it,” she growled, leaning over your back and biting your shoulder. “You’re going to cum again like this. Gonna make a mess all over my hand like the needy little slut you are.”

Her fingers curled brutally against your g-spot with every thrust, the wet sounds obscene as she worked you harder. The overstimulation bordered on pain, but the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter until your whole body locked up.

You screamed into the mattress as you came again—harder this time. Your pussy clenched violently around her fingers, and a sudden gush of wetness sprayed out around them, soaking her hand, your thighs, and the sheets beneath you.

Youmi moaned loudly in satisfaction, not stopping even as you squirted. She kept fucking you through it, drawing out every pulse until your legs gave out and you collapsed flat on the bed, shaking and sobbing with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby… such a good girl. Look at the mess you made,” she praised, finally pulling her fingers out. She rubbed your soaked pussy gently, almost soothingly, while you twitched and whimpered. “My perfect, messy girlfriend.”

Youmi sat back on her heels and peeled her shirt off slowly, revealing smooth skin and a simple black bra. Your hazy eyes followed every movement.

“Turn around and undress me,” she ordered softly, voice laced with need. “Use your mouth and hands. Show Mommy how much you want this.”

Still trembling, you crawled to her on shaky limbs. You kissed her stomach first, then worked her bra clasp open with clumsy fingers, letting her full breasts spill free. You latched onto one nipple immediately, sucking and licking while your hands pushed her pants and panties down her hips. Youmi lifted up to help you, kicking them aside until she was finally naked.

She looked breathtaking—flushed, wet, and aching for you.

Youmi threaded her fingers through your hair and guided your face between her thighs as she leaned back against the headboard. “Eat my pussy, baby. Make Mommy feel good.”

You dove in eagerly, licking broad stripes through her slick folds, moaning at her sweet taste. Youmi’s head fell back with a groan, hips rolling against your tongue. You sucked on her clit, then pushed your tongue inside her, fucking her with it while your nose brushed her clit.

“Yes—fuck, just like that,” she gasped, gripping your hair tighter. “You’re so good for me… my pretty girl finally eating Mommy’s cunt like she was born for it.” You licked and sucked messily, drunk on her taste and the sounds she made. When she started grinding harder against your face, you slid two fingers inside her, curling them while you focused on her clit. Youmi’s thighs began to shake around your head.

“Don’t stop— I’m close—!”

She came with a broken moan of your name, flooding your tongue. You kept licking her through it until she gently pushed your head away, breathing hard.

Youmi pulled you up into a deep, filthy kiss, tasting herself on your lips. Then she reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a thick, curved strap-on, buckling it around her hips with practiced ease. The sight made your spent pussy clench.

“On your back, legs spread,” she commanded, voice rough with lingering pleasure. “I need to fuck my girlfriend properly. I’ve waited years to feel you. I want you against me. Skin on skin.”

She climbed back over you, kissing you deeply as she maneuvered your bodies. Youmi lay on her back and pulled you on top of her, then gently guided you into position until your legs were tangled, your soaked pussy pressed flush against hers. The moment your slick, swollen folds met, both of you moaned loudly at the wet, intimate contact.

“Fuuck… feel that?” Youmi breathed, hands gripping your hips tightly. “So wet and hot for me.”

She rolled her hips upward, sliding her pussy against yours in a slow, deliberate grind. The slick friction of her clit rubbing directly against yours sent sparks shooting through your body. You whimpered, bracing your hands on her chest as you started moving with her, finding a rhythm.

Youmi’s head fell back against the pillow, lips parted. “That’s it, baby… grind on Mommy’s pussy. Just like that.”

The room filled with the obscene, wet sounds of your pussies sliding together—messy, slippery, and desperate. Every roll of her hips made her clit catch perfectly against yours, sending jolts of pleasure through both of you. Youmi’s hands roamed your body possessively, squeezing your ass, pulling you harder against her, then sliding up to cup and knead your breasts.

You leaned forward, bracing yourself so your tits brushed against hers with every movement. The new angle made your clits rub even more intensely. Youmi moaned louder, her thighs trembling beneath you.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” she gasped, eyes dark and locked on your face. “Look at me while you fuck me like this.”

You kept your gaze on hers, panting and whimpering as the pleasure built rapidly. The slick heat, the constant pressure on your overstimulated clit, and the raw intimacy of scissoring with her had you shaking again within minutes.

“Youmi—Mommy—I’m gonna cum again—”

“Me too,” she groaned, hips moving faster, grinding harder. “Cum with me, baby. Let me feel this pretty pussy cum all over mine.”

She pulled you down into a messy, desperate kiss, tongues sliding together as your movements turned frantic. The coil in your belly snapped first. You cried out into her mouth as your orgasm crashed over you, thighs shaking violently while your pussy pulsed and gushed against hers.

The feeling of you cumming pushed Youmi over the edge right after. She moaned brokenly, nails digging into your hips as she pressed up hard, grinding through her own climax. Wetness mixed between you, soaking both your thighs and the sheets even more.

You collapsed on top of her, both of you breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat and cum. Youmi wrapped her arms around you tightly, kissing the top of your head, your temple, then your lips—soft and reverent now.

“I love you,” she whispered against your mouth, voice hoarse but full of emotion. “My girlfriend. Finally mine.”

You smiled tiredly, nuzzling into her neck. “Yours… I love you too, Youmi-ya.”

She stroked your back gently, holding you close as your breathing slowly evened out. After a few minutes, she pressed one more kiss to your forehead.

“Rest for a bit, baby. Because Mommy’s nowhere near done playing with you tonight.”

Taglist

and it can always get worse, because boo had planned a short trip for the week but everything fell apart when his boss called him on sunday saying she couldn't let him off anymore because she needed to travel with her family.

and that's how seungkwan is now: in charge of the store and with blood in his eyes.

meanwhile, you enter the store almost desperately seeking salvation. your cousin's wedding is next week, and you still don't have a dress. you even bought one or two on shein, but they definitely only looked good on the models…

“hi,” you say gently as you enter, “i'm looking for a dress.”

seungkwan puts down the magazine he's reading, scanning the entire store as if showing you the thousands of options available. “what kind of dress?”

“to be honest?” you sigh, “i have no idea. can you help me?” you try to read his name on his name tag. “seungkwan, right?” you smile at the handsome sales assistant.

he gives a slight smile; people don't usually pay attention to his name, they don't even bother to read the name tag around his body, so he decides to be a little nicer. he starts walking around the store, showing you the options, "what do you like? floral? pastel? something basic?"

"nothing basic, please!"

he laughs, perhaps the first genuine laugh he's given in weeks. "okay, okay. what's the occasion?"

and while you tell him your whole story about your cousin's wedding dress, which you don't even like *that* much but need to wear to avoid more family problems, seungkwan starts to notice you.

not exactly because you're pretty, he serves so many customers every day that it doesn't attract much attention anymore, but because, besides being pretty, smelling good, and attractive, you're polite and care about him, telling him family gossip as if you were close friends, looking him in the eyes, and calling him by name without hesitation.

and that's dangerous, because seungkwan is so tired that he doesn't know if he can handle someone so… you. someone who, without realizing it, makes him forget for a few minutes that he hates his job.

and who, of course, is incredibly hot.

“want to try this one on? it's on sale for $15.” he says, pulling a dress off the rack, which really seems to be one of the most beautiful dresses you've ever seen in your life.

you look at the tag out of habit, staring at him suspiciously. “seungkwan, here it's $90”

but he doesn't seem to care much, "it's seungkwan's special promotion. a pretty woman pays just what i want."

"are you sure this won't give you problems? i can pay the original price, no problem, sweetheart."

"just t-try the dress!" he chokes.

it's not like there couldn't be a problem, but at the same time, seungkwan has worked there for so long that he knows his boss won't even notice it's missing; she doesn't even look at the stock, let alone notice the disappearance of a single dress.

you enter the fitting room, and the man lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, then realizes he's completely screwed.

"do you think it looks good?" you open the curtain.

the tight dress squeezing your tits, highlighting your waist, and making seungkwan drool, damn, you look fucking gorgeous in that outfit. seungkwan stares at you for too long, completely speechless.

“damn, you look gorgeous.”

“do i really? or are you just trying to sell me something to earn a commission, huh?” you give him a light tap on the arm, looking back at yourself in the mirror.

“definitely, my salary depends on your $12 dress.” he teases, making you laugh at his audacity, the atmosphere becoming too comfortable… “seriously, you look fucking gorgeous.” his eyes fall back on your body, the tip of his lip being bitten.

you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to control the smirk that is forming, adjusting the strap of the dress on your shoulder and staring at the salesman again through the mirror, noticing how much he seems to be controlling himself to avoid devouring you. “i don’t know if i trust you that much, i think you’re just saying that to make me buy it.”

“i think it’s pretty clear that i don’t care about the sale.” he leans against the dressing room wall, staring at you from head to toe, noticing the tight fabric on your backside, thinking things that are far too inappropriate for someone on the job.

“i’ll take it!” you try to deflect, for the sake of both your sanity.

seungkwan is gorgeous, the black dress shirt tucked into his forearms, the tailored trousers highlighting his legs, the crooked badge on his chest, everything about him seems unfairly attractive. and maybe it’s the stress, the playful way he talks, maybe the fact that he’s devouring you with his eyes, you don’t know, but you’re losing your mind with the man in there.

“ah, seungkwan,” you call the salesperson again. “i really need a skirt for a birthday party, do you have any here?”

“a family birthday or…?”

“slut skirt.” you laughs.

he stares at you in silence. then he lets out a laugh so genuine that he shakes his head without even noticing.

“you wanna kill me, don’t you? i’ll see what i can do.”

he walks away through the store again and you close the fitting room curtain, staring at your reflection for a few seconds. fuck, it had been a long time since you felt this much lust for someone you didn’t know.

meanwhile, outside, seungkwan tries to pretend he can think straight. failing miserably, because in his head all he wants at that moment is to have sex with you in the store's fitting room.

but amidst his lustful thoughts, he grabs a tighter black skirt, along with a random shirt, honestly barely paying attention to what he chooses, because if he thinks about you wearing anything, he knows he’ll go crazy.

“i found another option,” he says, approaching the fitting room. “i think-”

and he opens the curtain before even finishing the sentence.

silence.

you freeze instantly.

because in the middle of changing clothes, you're only in your panties and bra.

seungkwan stares at you, completely speechless. his eyes wander down your semi-nude body without any filter. and damn, you're much hotter than he thought.

"oh, fuck," he swallows hard, looking away too late. "sorry."

but he doesn't leave, doesn't even threaten to close the fitting room curtain, and you both notice it.

the silence seems to suffocate you, not from discomfort, but from lust. the damn skirt is still in seungkwan's hand, while he remains standing, totally unable to think, staring at your body once more, blatantly looking at your panties.

“i-i always ask if i can come in, sorry!” despite the words, he doesn't look at your face, but rather at the damn panties you're wearing.

“if i were bothered, i'd tell you to leave…” you say sincerely, his gaze burning into you.

seungkwan has been living on autopilot for months, working himself to the bone, freaking out over clients, sleeping little and having even less sex… he really doesn't even remember the last time he had sex.

and then you appear, gentle, fragrant, and now half-naked in front of him inside a tiny fitting room, looking as if you're also going crazy with all of this.

he's going to lose it.

“you're trying to kill me.” he murmurs almost to himself, wiping his mouth as his gaze drops to your body again, without any shame. “no, seriously.” he laughs weakly, completely disbelieving. “i open the curtain and find you in just your panties.”

his eyes stop on the black fabric once more.

“and this damn pantie is still pretty.”

“it’s just a basic one,” you retort, glancing down quickly. “it doesn’t even have lace.”

“then take it off.” he laughs, trying to joke, but you both realize it wasn’t a joke.

his gaze remains fixed on you, burning you, seungkwan already completely out of control. his own smile slowly fades as he realizes what he just said.

“damn…” he runs a hand over his face, letting out a disbelieving laugh. “sorry. i definitely shouldn’t have said that.”

you don’t react, you don’t reprimand him, because all you can feel is your panty getting wet, the heavy silence, you imagining what he would be like on top of you.

“where’s your boss?”

he laughs irritably, “somewhere out of the country with the family.”

the sentence being the end of any sanity between you, because that's when you kiss him. pulling him roughly by the collar of his shirt, standing on tiptoe to reach his full lips.

the first shock is somewhat violent, almost desperate, and you take a while to adjust your rhythm. his firm hands gripping your hips, his fingers touching the thin fabric of your panties, while you unbutton your dress shirt.

“fuck, we can't do this here.”

but at the same time he makes no move to stop, his firm hand pulling your bare thighs, then playing with the band of your bra, until finally putting a hand inside, squeezing your tits with desire, making you sigh into his mouth.

“hot, so beautiful!” seungkwan unbuttons your bra, then takes off his own shirt.

the fitting room is cramped, without much space for the two of you; clearly not made for what's happening there, but lust speaks louder.

his finger slides easily under your panties, pushing the fabric aside and playing with the wetness between your legs, rubbing his middle finger against your entrance just to see you squeeze your eyes shut.

he brings his finger to his mouth, tasting a little of your flavor, becoming somewhat frustrated when he realizes he can't suck you there, the space is ridiculously small.

"you're still gonna come in my mouth," he says before returning his finger to your cunt

now, slowly inserting it, feeling you gag in his mouth, swallowing your soft moans as your pussy opens wide, accepting him.

"all open for me, babe?"

the affectionate nickname makes you tremble, and he takes advantage to insert another finger, feeling you all wet, accepting him so well.

“s-seungkwan”

the moan is almost like music to him, his fingers going deep into your pussy, your clit hitting the palm of his hand as he stretches you wide.

your hand squeezes his cock through his pants, rubbing it and seeing how big it is, damn, you want this man inside you. you unbutton and unzip his pants shamelessly, whimpering while he still puts his fingers in your hole.

“kwan,” the nickname comes sweetly from your lips. “fuck… fuck, fuck me.”

“ princess, i don’t have a condom here.”

and it's obvious you don't have one either; it was just a trip to the clothing store, you didn't expect to end up in this situation.

seungkwan continues to insert his fingers into you, pulling them out and thrusting them in with a somewhat rough speed, but it's not enough, you need him completely.

"i... i'm on birth control, p-please."

seungkwan growls, "you're making me completely lose control!" he knows it's wrong to have sex without a condom, but he hasn't been able to think straight for a long time.

and then you hear his pants falling to the floor, and you feel him pushing you against the wall, your leg gripping his hip, exposing you even more.

you can't see it, but you feel the head of his thick cock rubbing against you, "are you sure?" seungkwan asks, and your only response is a somewhat pathetic moan.

and he enters, his thick cock stretching your pussy wide, leaving you wide open for him.

“it’s squeezing me tight.” he kisses you awkwardly, his teeth chattering, while every inch of his cock opens you up more and more. “fuck, you’re so hot.”

and when he finally thrusts inside you, seungkwan pulls out all at once, only to thrust back in again, his cock impaling you forcefully, hitting your uterus, and just when you get used to it, seungkwan’s rhythm is brutal.

“swallowing me whole, sweetheart.”

he’s angry, angry at his job, at his boss, angry at not being where he thought he’d be at this point in his career, and he takes all that anger out on your pussy, thrusting hard while he fucks you in the store fitting room.

“k-kwan,” you moan his name, trying to say how good it feels, but the disjointed moans are louder, making you cling to his shoulders.

the thin walls of the fitting room begin to tremble, he opens your legs wider at his waist, making his entire cock enter you.

"such a good pussy!"

you try to moan quietly, because if someone comes into the store you're screwed, but it's impossible, his cock is hitting you in the right place, making your eyes roll back.

"is it good? tell me," he asks hoarsely, almost as if he needs confirmation after all this time without sex.

the heat in the fitting room is unbearable, the ceiling fan not helping at all, sweat drips from seungkwan's forehead, his body contracting as he continues to fuck you.

your wet pussy accepting his thick cock without complaint, you wrap your arm completely around his neck, moaning like a little slut.

you start to tense up on seungkwan's cock, moaning that you're going to come, and that drives him even crazier. he fixes your hair that was starting to fall on your forehead, gives you a quick kiss and thrusts again.

"are you gonna  come for me, slut? come, love."

and when your pussy tightens as if it wants to swallow him whole, seungkwan gives a sadistic laugh, the brutal relief after months of not being able to fuck because of that damn job was happening right there in the fitting room.

and you come, your legs trembling and making you weak in his arms, covering his entire cock with your juices.

and seungkwan feels it, feels your pussy contracting, feels your fluid running down his cock, and he continues thrusting slowly, his spasms still ravaging you completely.

"so beautiful!" and he comes.

seungkwan comes almost painfully, after months he's finally coming on something that isn't his own hand. the thick, heavy, warm stuff going inside you, sticking to you completely, filling you up.

and he doesn't stop thrusting until the last drop is out, until it's dripping down your legs.

and even then, when it's over, it's still stuck to you.

your leg slides off his hip, your face still buried in his neck, breathing heavily.

"damn, i really needed that."

a few minutes later you look at each other, laughing a little foolishly at the crazy idea you both had. the fitting room smells of sex and sweat, and seungkwan clearly isn't in any condition to continue his shift.

"you're fucking beautiful," he says, a little foolishly.

"me? damn, you don't know what i felt when i walked into the store and saw you.."

and you stay there, laughing, exchanging caresses and compliments.

"ah, i really want the dress, and the skirt too… i'll wear them on our first date."

“first date?”

“yes? you wanna sleep with me in the fitting room and leave it at that?” he teased, it was already clear that this wasn't the intention of either of you.

“never.”

you stayed in the fitting room for a few more long minutes, a few more kisses, some playful banter, until finally going to the front of the store. he insisted on keeping the r$60 discount on the dress and the skirt as a ‘store gift’ for first-time purchases.

and well, when he texted you after work, you were quick to make plans for the weekend.