bunn | 般若

Receiving a video message from Haseul was like spinning a roulette wheel. Sometimes you’d get her giggling in an oversized hoodie, babbling about a stray cat she saw. Sometimes… you’d get something that made you seriously consider installing parental locks on your own phone.

So when her name popped up with a video attachment, you didn’t open it right away. Not because you weren’t curious—because you were. Too curious. And you knew better than to let her catch you in a vulnerable moment.

Two hours later, in the middle of switching laundry loads, you finally gave in.

The video started innocently enough: Haseul with messy bed hair, her eyes half-lidded, wearing a shirt that looked a suspicious amount like one of yours. She smiled—sweet, almost shy—before holding up a small plush duck to the camera and making it “kiss” the lens. You exhaled, thinking, Okay, safe territory.

Then she reached up, gathering her hair into a ponytail.

Her fingers slid through the strands slowly, deliberately, her gaze never leaving yours. The smile faded into something subtler, heavier. When she tilted her chin up to secure the tie, you caught a glimpse of the curve of her neck, the faint shadow along her collarbone. The change was so sudden—like flipping a switch from Disney to late-night cable—you nearly dropped your phone.

You slammed the screen off before she could finish. Back to laundry. Focus.

A few minutes later, her ridiculous custom ringtone filled the room—her deliberately over-the-top rendition of “Gangnam Style.” You rolled your eyes but answered.

“Hey—”

“Baaaabe,” she drawled in that syrupy, whiny voice. “Why didn’t you say anything nice about my video?”

You tried to keep your tone even. “Because I was folding towels and trying not to die?”

She gasped, feigning offense. “You didn’t even comment on my duck! It was so cute.”

“Oh, the duck was cute,” you agreed. “Right up until you decided to emotionally assassinate me with your hair trick.”

“That wasn’t a trick,” she said, her voice dipping into a lower, almost purring register. “That was a gift.”

You laughed, shaking your head even though she couldn’t see it. “You make me want to do evil things to you, woman.”

Silence—then that giggle, the one that was half-sunshine, half-sin. “Good. That means it’s working.”

“When I get back in our apartment you’d better not be all talk,” you say,

Haseul giggled and said, “only one way to find out,” before hanging up on you. 

You groan as she used the bed room tone she mastered leaving you hard at only her words.

“I’m gonna fuck her stupid,” you growl furious

Somehow though you are able to finish the laundry and forget about your minx of a girlfriend for the time being. 

You carry the various baskets back to your apartment and open it. You take off your sandles as you try to make sure none of the last hour and half of laundry work doesn’t get undone because it fell to the floor outside.

The smell of Haseul hits you instantly.

Her slutty cinnamon perfume fills your nostrils and reminds you of her little stunt. You set the basket down by the couch and go to the bedroom.

Haseul awaits you on the bed in lacy lingerie that hugs her curves and has you salivating. Her hands gently massage her clit. as she moans your name over and over,”

You don’t even try to tease her. You walk up to Haseul and grab her waist thick thighs pulling her towards you. 

Haseul smiles when she feels your hands on her. Your eyes lock and her gaze is pure lust and sex. She smirks and says, “you have me big guy what are you gonna do to me?”

Her smugness pisses you off so you grab her and bring her flush with your crotch. 

You move her panties to the side as you slide your sweats down and impale her. 

Haseul moans as you fill her. The sudden intrusion both welcome and overwhelming to her. You lift her waist off the bed and begin thrusting. 

Haseul moans. Her walls flutter around you while she tries to stay lucid enough to enjoy it. 

“Yes!” She moans as you up the pace. Her walls only tighten around you like a vice hoping you’d stay in her forever. You move one of your hands from her waist to her bra which you yank down to grab one of her breasts. You grip and paw the flesh as you watch Haseul lose herself even more. 

“Always so needy,” you growl as you feel her walls tighten around you, 

“Fuck babe breed me, my body is so ready.” She says as she cums around you. You fuck her through her orgasm though massaging her soft and pliant body. 

“You want me to breed this greedy little cunt. Make you the mommy everyone thinks you are?”

“Fuck yes!!!” Haseul moans.

Seeing her so desperate and her cream drowning your cock. You give her what she wants. You cum inside her she moans lewdly as her mind breaks. 

“Fuck! fuck! Fuck!” She moans as she sent into another orgasm. 

When you’re done cumming you pull out and say, “we’re not done,”

Haseul delirious looks up at you expectantly and you say “get on your knees and get me hard again,”

Haseul moans and nods as you sit on the bed and she gets off. She opens your legs as she pulls your sweats off leaving you bare from the waist down. 

Haseul wastes no time taking you in her mouth. She throats your already hardening cock. Glucks and gags fill the room. She smiles around your cock before taking a break. 

A string of saliva and precum connect her lips to your tip. She stares at you with her eyes burning and full of lust before she takes you back into her mouth. Her wet tongue wraps around you like a wet snake. 

Haseul’s cheek’s hollow as she bobs all around your cock.

You lose track until you realize she’s about to make you cum.

“Seulie stop” you say but when you go to stop her  she swats your hand away as she continues bobbing her head around your shaft. You groan as she only seems to double down. Her brow furrowed as she throats you deeper than she ever has. 

Eventually it’s too much and you explode in her mouth. Your eyes shut and she smacks you demanding you watch her drink your seed. Her throat constricts around you as her eyes stare into you as if to say, “more” 

When you finally finish she opens her mouth to show you she swallowed it all.  Seeing her like this you begin to harden again. 

Haseul smiles at first stroking you with her hand as she stares at you with this sultry and fucked out looks as she says. “Come on baby breed mommy again. I l know you have it in you,”

You can’t even help it anymore you lift her from beneath you and fold her like a pretzel and impale her again. 

She moans and says “atta boy. Fuck Mommy like you fucking mean it,” 

You pound her cunt with one purpose filling her to the brim. As you thrust into her she only encourages you more saying things like, “don’t you love how full my body is. How flexible i am. How you can rail me in all these positions?” 

Her words make you go blind with lust as you try to reach her womb by force of will.

Haseul smiles when she feels you throb and twitch inside of her,

“Cum in me baby,” she says and her voice sends you over the edge. You spill what feels like a gallon in her, and when you finally pull out she smiles and says, “fuuuck,” 

The two of you collapse on the bed and Haseul is back to being chill again.

“So baby how was the laundry?”

“Fine how are you?” You ask.

“I’m feeling a lot better now… what do you want for dinner I was thinking take out tonight,” Haseul replied 

“That’s fair,” you respond 

Four months later

“What do you mean pregnant?”

Haseul asks.

Her doctor says “yeah with twins,”

Haseul turns to you as the ultra scan shows two little bodies swimming in her tummy. 

“Looks like your hiatus will be a bit longer you joke,”

Haseul glares at you and says, “oh just wait till I’m not pregnant anymore,” 

It’s one thing to be playing strip blackjack with your roommate for the fun of it, bored out of your mind because the semester’s over and the both of you decided not to go back to your hometowns for reasons out of both your control. It’s another to be playing strip blackjack when you’re down to your boxers and she’s still somehow halfway to getting into her birthday suit.

You probably should’ve told her to take off her jacket and all the accessories she was wearing. Having each one as an individual piece of clothing is the most bullshit excuse you’ve ever heard, more so when you realized she has earrings and socks on.

“Oh come on,” she starts, throwing her hands up in the air. “Are you that scared of me seeing your dick? It’s not that small from what I remem–”

“Fuck you.” You send a middle finger her way. “I'm on eighteen and you’re on fifteen. You hit.”

Playing safe normally isn’t what you prefer doing, the need to throw down another card tempting you. But the odds of getting anything below a three is so goddamn miniscule, you’d be guaranteeing your loss.

And this is not how you thought having Sooin see you naked after God knows how long would go.

Sooin grabs the stack of cards, taking the first off the deck. She doesn’t flip yet, only placing it down next to her two fours and a seven. “I bet this is a six,” she says, tapping on the card.

“And I bet that it’s anything but a six,” you counter, and she graces you with a laugh.

“Willing to bet your boxers on that?” she asks, nodding to said clothing. Your last line of defense to your dignity, pride, ego. But if that saying about a good defense is a good offense applies here, then you might as well use it to your advantage.

“You willing to bet your entire top off for it?” you counter, leaning back on your chair. It’s a gamble, not one you’re sure she’ll bite on, yet you’re desperate. In dire need of a hail mary, and this—this is your one shot to getting it.

Besides, seeing her tits is a major plus.

“Bitch, I’ll bet everything I’m wearing it’s a six.” The way she sounds so confident about it makes you think she’s somehow rigged the deck when though you’ve been the one that’s been shuffling it since the beginning of this whole thing.

She does the job for you, when she slams the cards down on the table. Crossing her arms and smirks at you. 

“I’ll even bet something better for you,” Sooin starts, her legs crossing, and the smooth expanse of her skin starts to entice you, her shorts riding up and showing even more of those thighs. “If I don’t get a six, I’ll be free use for you for the entire week,” she states, the glee in her face dropping an offer that only the devil would ever give. “And we got all week.”

“Sooin, what the fuck–” You’ve known this woman for years, since she barged in your life as your roommate in the middle of your sophomore year and called the supposed guest room as hers. With the amount of shit the both of you have gotten up to with all that time—the rare sex with her included—this has got to be the most dangerous thing she’s ever done. “You don’t offer that up like it’s nothing–”

“Sure I can,” she says, rolling her eyes at you. “We’ve fucked before, what’s so difference about this?”

“We don’t have to be betting shit like that.” You dodge the question, your own legs cross to hide the growing erection in your pants. “We can stick to clothes–”

“Boring.” Her fingers twirl around the curls of her hair. “You need some spice in your life. Some flair. And I’m offering it to you.” Her head tilts. “‘Sides, when was the last time you got laid? Was it that Chaeyoung girl–”

“Chaewon,” you correct, shaking your head. Now she has you hooked on the deal being offered. Your entire wager flipped on you, and you can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. “And that’s pretty rich coming from you.”

“Whatever her name is–” She shrugs, avoiding your own question by picking up one of her cards and tapping it on the table. “I’m here offering you a once in a lifetime deal. And we’d both be happy at the end of it.” 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Anytime you want.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Anywhere you want.”

Taptaptaptap—

“Anything you want–”

“If you don’t get a six,” you enunciate, syllable by syllable. “You’ll just–what, do as I say?”

“If I don’t get a six,” Sooin repeats, hand pausing the drumming of the paper. “I’ll do whatever the fuck you want. No holds barred. No questions asked. You can have me on my knees right now if you win–”

“Jesus Christ, Swim.” Your palm meets your face, in complete disbelief of what she’s saying. You sigh, real fucking deep, gaze going up to the ceiling for a moment, trying to think about the whole thing. Yet your mind’s already made up, and all you can do is ask about the one thing that you’re sure will happen.

“And if you do pull a six?”

“Then you be free use instead.” The answer is instant, and that is where she gets you. When you think about it, it sounds like a win win situation. “Actually, let’s make this easier for the both of us.” So nice of her, you think.

“If you have a worse hand than mine, you lose.” That’s mildly easier, but still impossible. Besides, only the crazy ones would ever think of hitting on an eighteen. “And the same goes to me.” She points to the one face down on the table. “Shittier hand than yours, I lose.”

“This has to be bait.” The comment slips out, airing out the first thing that came to mind hearing the terms.

“It’s not.” The look of disbelief on your face makes her gape at you. “I’m not joking, it’s not.”

“Sure, and you didn’t rig the deck so you win again.”

“I didn’t rig jackshit, thank you very much. You need to believe in the heart of the cards.”

“Whatever you say, Yugi,” you chuckle. You glance at the deck, and that top card is begging you to take it. Get the whole thing over and done with, the result be damned. 

Though, there is an instance of—

“What happens if we both go over?”

“Easy.” She shrugs. “Then we both win.” 

Your head leans back in surprise. “How the hell does that even work?” 

“I get to fuck you whenever, you do the same. It’s not rocket science.” Another shrug. “Your other head would do the thinking.”

“And I’m starting to think you’re the one who needs to get laid,” you comment, and she graces you with a smirk.

“It’s a win win type of deal.” She ignores the dig, propping her chin up with her hand. “Just depends who wins more.” She gives you a pointed look. “So, you in or out?”

Sooin’s not wrong. It is a win win deal, and you’d be an idiot not to take it.

You sigh. 

“Fine.”

Your hand grabs the card, sliding it off the stack and placing it next to your two cards. “Who goes first?”

“Same time?” Sooin asks, fingers ready to flip the card on her side. 

You nod, hand prepped to do the same. “This is insane, you know,” you mutter, licking your lips. Foot tapping rapidly—in anticipation or nervousness, you don’t know—and shaking your head at her. “Absolutely fucking crazy.”

“You can always back out.” She takes her time with it, pushing the edges up slowly, her gaze focused on you rather than on the piece of paper in her hands. “Or are you really a pussy?”

Well, those are some fighting words. And you didn’t get raised like a bitch to back off.

“Just fucking do it already, Sooin.” 

She smirks, and with a flourish, she turns it over faster than you can. Your eyes land on her hand, and lo and be-fucking-hold, it’s a goddamn eight.

Everything rushes at you, all at once—relief, shock, joy, unease. It’s all there, because on one hand, you just won a bet against Sooin. On the other, the bet’s stipulations scare the utter life out of you.

“Would you look at that,” Sooin scoffs, grinning at you. “We both lost.”

You blink, and you look down to your own hand.

Twenty Eight.

Heart in the fucking cards your ass—

“No fucking way that just happened.” She huffs a laugh, staring at your hands. “Did we seriously both fucking lose?”

“You’re the one that said to believe in the heart of the cards,” you retort, shaking your head at how things have ended up.

“You know what?” She stands up, picking up the cards and fixing them up back into a single deck. “I’m going to hold up my end of the deal.” Doesn’t even let you soak it in, simply takes your hand away from you and places it back onto the set. “That better be the same for you too.”

“What the fuck does that mean–”

“It means,” Sooin cuts you off, placing the deck neatly on the center of the table. “I’m going to be riding the fuck out of you tomorrow. Or, you know–”

She gives you an innocent smile, as if her words are to become a common occurrence in your household for the week. She bends down, her lips so close to whisper temptations in your ear. Whatever you want, she says, your name rolling past her lips. “All week long.”

Leaves you with a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the shoulder as she heads to her bedroom. Doesn’t bother waiting for a response, instead settling for a—

“Goodnight!”

While you’re over here slumping on your chair, staring at her door and shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.

What the hell did you get yourself into?

—

Sleeping late came naturally to you.

The mental gymnastics you’ve done to convince yourself that everything Sooin said was some sick prank she’s pulling on you, that you’d be waking up to another normal day with her, lazing about and wasting another day doing nothing along with all the other reasons you tell yourself—made you lose your mind trying to instill all of that in your head.

Add to trying to understand why Sooin started that bet at all when she really didn’t have to, aside from the obvious one that your brain is telling you isn’t at all the reason, and you’re almost to a point where you need to admit yourself to a mental asylum trying to figure it out.

You’re almost glad that this didn’t happen during exam week, or else you would’ve been failing all of it left and right with the lack of sleep. Or stamina, if Sooin really was serious.

Which she wasn’t, of course.

You don’t know if you can stop yourself from taking advantage of the bet if she ever gave you any form of a go signal. And if she was, you know she would do the same.

Still, all those days trying to survive the term has made your body’s alarm clock ring, causing you to wake up in the early hours of the morning thinking that there’s some eight o’clock lecture you need to be up for. While you could always stay in, as there is nothing to wake up to this early for the next few weeks, your stomach rumbling tells you otherwise.

So here you are, dragging yourself to the kitchen to make some instant coffee that barely turns you into a functional human being, a bowl of cereal made while you wait for the kettle to heat the water. You would have loved to have some bacon and eggs but alas, someone forgot to do this week’s groceries.

Eventually, Sooin comes out of her room looking the complete opposite of you. It says a lot already, considering you look like a dead man walking and she slept like a baby last night. Arms stretching out as she walks towards you, slumping on the chair opposite of you. Greets you with such energy you’d think she isn't the Sooin you know.

And yet she is, staring at you eating your bowl miserably, a smile on her lips as she leans back on the chair. “You look like shit,” she muses, and she doesn’t need an answer from you to know why. 

“Didn’t get much sleep last night.” You play along with it, pretend that everything about last night doesn’t have you in a chokehold.

“I bet.” Her elbow rests on the top back of her chair. “Need a little pick me up?”

She’s dangling the entire thing in front of you, gauging to see just how far you’re willing to keep up with this charade. And if you weren’t so mentally exhausted you could have—should have—said no outright, trying to prevent the impending roller coaster that’s coming your way. And yet your brain decides to make things as ambiguous as possible.

“The coffee can do.” You nod to the kettle, where you are waiting for the stupid thing to finish heating up.

“You sure?” She raises an eyebrow, her eyes glances at the kettle herself. “I’m available to help out, if you want me to.”

The wording isn’t lost on you, making you smile as you raise a spoon full of cereal and milk. “Yeah, Swim. I’m sure.”

She grins, her mouth opening to speak until the kettle finally pings. The both of you take a glance at it, steam rising out of the opening. You move to handle it, but Sooin tells you that she’ll do it instead. Need a cup myself, she says as she passes by, leaving you to eat your cereal in peace.

You take the moment to take a few more spoonfuls as you think up ways of conveniently not run into Sooin for the week, but living with her makes that a daunting task. Being a shut in is always an option, but you’d go insane doing nothing in your room eventually. Or go out everyday until the week ends, check out the mall or go on a quick adventure out of town somewhere. 

You can feel your wallet begging you not to do it, making you wonder if you can find another part time for a week at some cafe or convenience store. Whatever to get you out and about and not being with Sooin twenty four seven.

Not that you weren’t against the whole thing. Hell, you want it. In the face of last night, anyone would be stupid not to accept it. Much like you are being an idiot about it.

It’s almost like a slap in the face, when you realize that you could’ve had her on her knees right about now.

The doubt slowly begins to leave your mind, when all the signs point towards Sooin taking it seriously come filling in. You’re being a complete dumbass—no, more than that for wasting a perfectly good night’s rest in exchange for losing your mind for something that really, really should not have been worth losing sleep over. 

You’ll be losing sleep over fucking Sooin instead.

The chair you’re sitting on gets pulled away from the table, and the soft, warm weight of Sooin straddles you. Her arms wrap around your neck as she takes a spot on your lap, not allowing you to leave.

“Sooin, what are you–”

“I won last night too, you know.” Her hips roll against yours, making you clench your teeth and tense up. A quick glance tells you that she’s taken her shorts off, leaving her in just her panties and a shirt tight enough to let you know she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. “And since you won’t start, I figured I would.”

She pulls you in for a kiss, and everything you thought of—the denials, the doubt—fully goes out the window when you can finally have a taste of her lips once again. And she’s a force of nature, infecting your mind and body with an overwhelming sense of Sooin; how she smells, her grinding on your cock, her lips exploring yours for the first time.

“You taste like milk,” she says, a quiet chuckle coming out of her as your hands find her waist. She keeps her pace tortuously slow, your cock twitching and aching and wanting more.

“I did just have cereal.” Stating the obvious, obviously. “What else did you think I’d taste like?”

“I don’t know–” she teases, arms coming down to undo the tie of your shorts. “But I’d be happy to find out. We have all week, remember?”

You raise your hips, helping her fish your cock out from your clothing. “Right,” you sigh out, her hand caressing your length, lightly gripping it and giving you a few exploratory pumps. “All week.”

Sooin smiles, pecking your lips once more. “There he is.” She straightens up, her hand finding a rhythm in her strokes, and your cock hardens at her touch. “Guess a woman’s touch makes you fold quick, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up, Sooin,” you laugh, a hand coming down to squeeze her thigh. “I can feel you dripping through your panties, you know.”

“Blame a girl for finally being able to fuck her roommie again, why doncha.” Her words make you the last time you two fooled around. 

“I don’t remember that.” You do. Of course you do. It was a drunken affair on both your ends because of some party she was attending at her rich best friend’s house on the other side of town. You weren’t even supposed to be there, but someone apparently needed to pick her up. One thing led to another, and you’re waking up on her bed, tangled in her sheets. 

“That’s a shame.” She knows you’re lying. You both acted like strangers for a better part of a month, and the only thing that got things back to normal was yet another party.

Sooin pulls her panties to the side, lining herself up with your dick. Circling her wet folds around your tip, getting you slick with her juices as she slowly plunges down on you. “Here’s a reminder then.”

A deep moan rumbles out of you, head tilting back as her heat begins to wrap around your length. “Jesus, Sooin–” Your grip on her hips grow firmer, your eyes watching her face morph into an expression of such pleasure that the only thing you can do is stare and admire every small microexpression she makes.

“God, I’m going to enjoy this,” Sooin sighs, eyes fluttering shut for a moment when she nearly bottoms out on your shaft, her walls hugging you so fucking tightly. “Sit back and enjoy, yeah?”

She takes a minute to get used to you filling her, let you stretch her out and leave you simmering in her heat. Doing these little rolls of her hips that gets you twitching inside of her, moans coming out of the both of you. “Missed this filling me up so fucking well–”

“So you did just want to get laid,” you tease, taking your hands off her momentarily to push them underneath her shirt, wanting to feel her skin instead of fabric. “Could’ve just asked.”

A scoff escapes her, her fingers giving your scalp a quick tug. “Excuse me for not wanting to get in between you and that Chaewon chick–”

“Sooin, nothing happened.” Her questioning look makes you repeat your words.

“Uh huh.” She presses her weight down on you, bottoming out and taking your entire length. You let out a groan, eyes closing at the sheer pressure of her cunt taking you. Another tug of your hair gets you quickly opening them back up. “And I didn’t watch you mope around the day after.”

“What? No–” You shake your head, confused to where the hell she was trying to take this conversation. You would think she would prefer that you focus on her considering your balls deep in her cunt, and yet Sooin continues to surprise you. “She was just a fling, okay? Nothing else happened.”

And she was. You met her at a party, you two had sex, you went your separate ways. You moping around the day after was because even after getting laid, it didn’t change the fact that you flunked your exam before it. It’s a miracle you managed to tell her all of that while her pussy pulses around you, her grinding on your cock making you stutter your words.

Fingers tap on your neck, her gaze narrowing at your explanation. “So you don’t have feelings for her?” She slowly begins to bounce on your lap, and the insanity of what’s happening right now is starting to get to you. Interrogated about some girl while getting fucked by your—well, an important girl is something to cross off the list.

“Sooin, we fucked. That’s it.” You squeeze her hips, biting your lip at the sensation of Sooin clenching around you. “Can we pl–please go back to focusing on this?”

She doesn’t answer you. At least, not verbally. Her rhythm goes faster, harder, fucking herself on you like she’s chasing her own high. Her weight presses down on you, pulling herself close to your chest, her breath hot in your ear as her moans consume your senses. 

“You fucking focus,” she mutters, her hold on you tightening, ass dropping down on your lap. She’s insatiable, so much more different than the last time. Frantic in how she rides that you can barely hold on with your life. “Just–sit still, stay hard, and make me cum you son of a–”

It’s sending you to the edge fast, barely being able to hang on. Even when you’re trying to hold off and fight back against what your body is demanding you to do. Sooin's increasingly erratic movements; bouncing and grinding and fucking herself on your cock until all you can think of is filling her with your load.

“Don’t think I can, Swim.” It comes out shaky from you, amidst all Sooin’s moans and skin against skin hitting against each other. Arms wrap around her waist, pulling her in and saying her name. Sooin, Sooin, Sooin please—

“Go ahead.” Her words are a shot to the brain, an unraveling of your entire nervous system and turning a singular thought into reality.

“Cum inside me.”

It’s stupid how quickly you crumble at those words. Your mouth finds her neck, biting down gently as your cock unloads inside her. Each spurt comes with a content moan from Sooin, singing straight into your ears. Euphoria consumes your senses, nipping and marking her neck as your eyes threaten to roll back from the pleasure.

“That’s it,” she coos, her grip vice-like around you, each throb of your cock filling her cunt full of your load. She puts her entire weight on you, unable to leave her warm embrace as you try to fuck your load deeper into her. “Fucking needed this–”

Sooin bites her lip, savoring the entire thing, basking in the afterglow of it all. The grin on her face tells you exactly how much she’s enjoyed it, and you can only imagine what else you’ll be looking at for the rest of the week.

“So,” she starts, lips finding your cheek to leave a gentle little peck. “Coffee?”

You chuckle, licking the spot where you’ve left a red mark on her neck. “Sure, Sooin.” Watch her slowly pull away, your cock leaving her walls and letting the cum that you’ve dumped inside her to spill down to the floor.

Neither of you do anything to clean it up right now, considering—

“Coffee sounds great.”

—

You don’t see Sooin until the late afternoon, coming back to your apartment after a day of finally doing her turn to do the groceries. You would’ve tagged along if not for the fact that you had to do the laundry this week around, and pair it up with helping her stock the cupboard full of what she bought and you’re sinking down on the couch.

“I don’t think we needed that much for this week,” you complain, eyes staring up at the ceiling. Buying almost double of what you two normally get makes you wonder where the hell she got enough cash to buy that, but her reply gets you to scoff in disbelief.

“Supermarket had a sale,” she grunts, sliding down next to you, head on your lap as a makeshift pillow. “Thought it’d be smart to buy as much as I can.”

“Your wallet agree with that?”

“Nope.” She pops the syllable, taking out her phone, tapping away at the screen. “Not like my wallet can’t handle it. At least we won’t have to worry about things here for a while.”

A while is an understatement. She bought enough for you both to stop buying any essentials for a month. And while you know she can afford much more than that, you had to convince her that you're not going to freeload off her in your own place.

Because for all the oddest reasons, the fact that she has fuck you money to spend yet only splurges it on things she likes is such an odd combination. Exactly how she ended up taking your guest room instead of getting her own place.

You remember her words clear as day. Too expensive and high maintenance. Which is, again, a weird thing to say when she can pay people to handle it for her, but she says it's for her own good more than anything. Gotta learn to be independent some day, might as well be now, she said. 

“Look at you, being a responsible adult,” you tease, finger reaching down to poke her cheek. She immediately swats it away with a roll of her eyes.

“Fuck off,” she chuckles, eyes never straying from her phone. “We’ve been needing to stock up on all that stuff anyway.”

“I don’t think we needed that much instant ramen though.” Your gaze flicks to the stack of it by the counter. “Seriously, that might be a little too much.”

“To you, maybe,” she says, turning her phone horizontally. “I’ll be eating some too, you know.”

“You mean all of it?” The light jam of her elbow to your ribs gets you laughing.

The conversation ends there, and the only thing left to fill the empty silence are the shooting that comes from her phone and whatever it is that you’ve decided to watch on the TV. It stays like that for a while, and your boredom continues to grow at each passing second, each passing commercial, each movement of Sooin’s head on your lap—

The thought of asking her to, you don’t know, do something to her sounds inane. Breakfast’s events come flooding your memories, and as much as you want to do the same thing to her, you want to test the waters first.

Your arm comes to rest at her stomach, playing with the hem of her top. It gets her to flinch in surprise, gaze flickering up to you.

“What are you doing?” There’s a knowing glint in her eyes; one that tells you that an answer doesn’t need to be told, when she already has an idea of what you want. An eyebrow raises when you slowly drag your fingers upward.

“Nothing,” you say, resting your palm on one of her breasts, covered in layers of fabric. Your eyes are still watching the television—some old cartoon about a cat and mouse—while your fingers play around her chest. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Sooin lets out a scoff, biting her lip to stop the grin on her face as she comes back to her phone. “Do what you want.” 

Well, alright then.

Your hands wander; kneading her breasts with light squeezes, running your hands through the curves of her body. They eventually find themselves pushing under her top, wanting to feel the smooth expanse of her tummy up to her tits.

She doesn’t make a single complaint throughout, allowing all this to happen. When you run up and down her body, all she does is let out these hums. When your fingers pull her bra down so that you can play around with her nipples, her legs squirm and push together. 

And when you ask if you can use her mouth, she hits you back with another question:

“Are you asking or telling?”

A quick tug of your drawstrings, a little repositioning of Sooin’s head as you take your cock out, already at half mast, and pointing it to her mouth, tongue out and waiting. “I’ll be quick,” you say, a laughable lie as you know you’re going to be taking your sweet time with her.

She does fuck all about it, keeping on with her game as your hand rests on her hair as you thrust languidly into her wet mouth. Your shaft growing to full length the longer you stay inside her throat, and she shifts to get into a more comfortable position. As comfortable as she can get, having a cock in her mouth while her hands are busy playing.

Her cheek bulges, her throat takes you deep, her tongue flattens under your length. Yet her eyes never stray from her phone, hearing the sounds of combos being hit and encouraging cheers from her phone. She mutters words you barely understand, and as much as you want to pull out and ask, she hasn't told you to stop.

That only gets you to push it further, a firmer grasp on her head to drive your hips forward. Spit begins to accumulate around her mouth, dripping down to coat you; a sound akin to a whine vibrates around your shaft as her focus on the game breaks.

Her head fights back against your pushes for a moment, your grip relaxing to let her talk. “Let me finish this match first,” she mutters before her lips meet your tip, wrapping around you and keeping you in her mouth.

It’s absurd, how warm her mouth is. Managing to get you squirming without moving an inch, only the sliding of her tongue up and down the tip of your cock. Tongue swirling and cheeks hollowing gets your thighs flexing from the sheer pressure that she’s inflicting upon you. Your fingers come back resting on her hair, gripping her dark locks, wanting—needing to take back control.

So you do. Hands start to push and pull her around your cock, and she’s spluttering; fingers stumbling around her phone, causing it to fall down to the couch. They find your thighs, steadying herself as she manages to fall down to her knees, using her mouth for the sinful pleasure that she offers. Even with the spittle that starts to fall down her chin, the glare that her eyes are piercing you with, and the slight whine she makes as you so rudely interrupt her game, she makes no movement to stop you.

Hell, it feels like she’s leaning into it. Decency thrown out the window as more drool comes to coat your cock, bobbing her head faster than the pace you’ve set. The annoyance in her eyes fading away for this hunger that you’ve caused. 

And you relish in it. Your hips thrust up just as her head comes down, your moans and praises of her lips meshing with the dirty noises that she creates, pushing you further down to your end.

“Sooin–” Your head leans back, hissing in a breath when you make her take you deep, throat convulsing around you. The sheer suction makes you weak, your thighs shaking, the grip on her head loosening. Sooin takes it as a chance to pull away, and you’re already missing the warmth of her lips around you.

“Don’t tell me when,” she says, stroking you with both hands and all that spit on your length makes it feel all so much better than it should. “Just cum in my mouth whenever, alright?”

Sooin takes you back in, and it’s taking everything in your power not to cum right then and there. Her enthusiasm is starting to take control, shining in her eyes and in her actions when her pace grows feral. The squelching and sucking grows insistent, getting your legs to lock up and grow rigid around her frame.

Your hands can’t stop themselves from taking hold of her hair, your breath ragged as you thrust into her mouth. Wanting some semblance of dictating when you inevitably let your load flood her, you take the reins back from her and start to pound away at her tight, wet throat.

Stopping has left your mind; the only thing that needs to be done is feed her your cum, using her mouth as she wants you to—as much as you can for the whole thing. And that single realization gets you to emptying your seed straight into the back of Sooin’s throat.

Each single pump of your hips elicits a moan from you, her hums at every pulse of your cock vibrating around your length. She takes every shot of your cum without complaint, milking you for everything you’re worth. Swallowing it all, even when some manage to spill over, leaking down her lips as the remains of your load begin to tide over.

Sooin makes a slow journey upward, releasing you with a wet pop. “Someone was pent up,” she teases, swiping what she couldn’t swallow off her chin and thumbing it into her waiting mouth. “You made me lose my game, by the way.”

“Yeah, well,” you breathe out, watching her run her tongue across your length, cleaning up any spit and seed that’s coating your length. “Pretty sure you can win the rank back easy.”

Her eyes roll, shaking her head at you with a smile. “Sure, I can.” She taps your cock against her swollen lips, giving the head a chaste kiss. “Can I go back to playing, or do you still need me here?”

“You and your games, Sooin.” Nodding at her with a chuckle, she gives you a few taps on your thigh before she rises up from the floor. Walking away from you for the moment to wash her hands, she comes right back to lay her head on your lap, phone in her hand and continuing her game.

As if she’s ready for you to do the same thing all over again.

The next two games she played resulted in her getting a day ban from going idle too much on ranked games. You tell yourself it wasn’t your fault that it happened.

Not at all.

—

The kiddies gloves come off after that, and the both of you decided to take full advantage of the situation you’ve ended up in. Your reluctance to follow through with this whole free use bet slash arrangement’s faded, and now every waking hour or so is spent with your cock inside of Sooin in some way, shape, or form.

You were eating dinner when Sooin got on her knees to blow you under the table, making sustenance a forgotten necessity in favor of the carnal pleasures of bending her over the table and railing a load into cunt instead.

She’d be in the shower sometime after, and she’s trying to ignore the fact that you jumped in with her, wedging your cock in between her thighs. Lathering her hair up with shampoo as you thrust between the heavenly flesh that she’s blessed with. Painting the shower wall with your cum just as she starts to soap herself up, and you join her in taking a shower after.

Can’t say you two didn’t take an hour in there, considering she wanted a round getting pounded. You’re surprised that you still had hot water by the end of it.

Her bed’s been shared by the both of you by the time you two were heading to bed, Sooin making you remember just how good of a lay she was by wringing a load out of you, the view of her ass rippling as she rides you making her achieve her goal embarrassingly quickly.

And you get her back by waking her up that morning with gentle kisses planted across her neck, your hands roaming around her body and ending up between her legs, two fingers knuckle deep inside her. Getting the sheets wet and ruined by the end of it, and you two end up complaining about who’s gonna do the laundry for it (you will).

The second day was infinitely worse than the first one, when breakfast became brunch due to Sooin wanting you on your knees, eating her out as an alternative to the morning coffee you two normally make. It ends up with the two of you swapping places, using her throat and coating her face with your cum at the end of it.

In reality, it ended when she was fucking herself on your cock right next to where your coffee was brewing, back arched and bucking back against you. It left the both of you tired, and how brunch was the only thing that made the both of you pause.

Absolute fucking degenerates, and it’s only been day two out of seven.

Which was why you invited Sooin out to pay her back for everything she bought by taking her to the mall and—

“Anything I want?” She doesn’t believe you when those words come out of her mouth. Not with how ‘frugal’ you are, or however she puts it when all you actually do is build up your savings. 

Excuse you for being a responsible adult.

“Within reason,” you correct, hands on your hips, stern face and all. “I’m not as rich as you are, Miss Bottega Veneta.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waves you off, already turning around and walking away from you. “Come on, I know just the place where I can mooch off you.”

“Please don’t tell me it actually is Bottega Veneta.” You can hear your bank account crying out in protest inside your wallet. Quickly catching up to her, you two walk to the elevator. “I literally can’t afford that type of thing.”

“Relax,” Sooin laughs, pressing the up button. Your eyes glance up to the top, where the arrow lights up. “We can check out the department store first. I can probably get something in your budget, you stingy fuck.”

The elevator dings open, conveniently empty. “I’m not stingy,” you refute, entering the elevator first, finger pressing the fourth floor while Sooin follows suit, leaning back against the wall. “I’m trying to budget things. You know, like any adult would?”

“Oh come on–” She’s rolling her eyes at you with a grin. “We’re in college. We can afford to not be adults sometimes.”

“You can,” you argue, hands in your pockets, turning to face her. “I’m on a scholarship and you’re rich enough to probably buy this mall.”

“Let’s not go that far.” Her tone makes you think otherwise, because for all you know she actually could right this second. Another ding rings out, and the elevator doors swing open to your floor. “Come on–” She’s hooking her arm around yours. “Let’s go, Mister Sugar Daddy.”

“What the fuck did you just call me–”

The next hour consisted of you following Sooin around, browsing through the numerous bits and bobbles, clothes and accessories, doodads and thingy-ma-jigs that get her attention. Started off with checking out a new set of tableware (which was maybe needed), to a new TV (definitely not needed), whatever new phone just released (“Sooin, you just bought a new one.”).

You end up by the mattresses, where Sooin jokingly said about buying a king size so that you two can actually fit in the bed and then some. As to which you replied by asking her how the fuck you’ll fit the damn bed into either of your rooms.

And when you start walking towards the clothing section, the oddest combination of dread and excitement settle in your body. Not because you were scared of what Sooin would choose to try out (seeing her in a bikini would be a dream come true for you) but of what she would try to pull with you knowing the bet.

Because you just know she’s going to pull some shit that might get the both of you kicked out the store and the mall. 

So when she picks out a few clothes and heads to the fitting room to try them out, it’s no surprise when you get pulled into one of the stalls when no one was watching. You almost let out a yelp but her hand covering your mouth muffles the noise.

Sooin shushes you, a finger on her lips, waiting for you to show some semblance of relaxing before pulling away to close the door behind her. Hanging up the clothes on the wall rack, you were about to ask her the most obvious question on the planet, yet she speaks before you do.

“You know why I pulled you in here,” she states, pulling her jacket off and adding it to the rest of the clothes that she might not ever try out.

“In public?” Because of course you have to ask the second most obvious question.

“We have a room that can be locked and it’s big enough for two,” she answers, pushing you down to the small little chair tucked away in the corner. “Private enough for me.” She’s on her knees, fingers making quick work of your belt buckle and your zipper. One quick tug and she has your cock in her hands, at half mast and lazily stroking you with a sensual smile and a raise of her brow. “Relax, I picked the furthest room for a reason.”

“Couldn’t wait for us to get home before we do this?” It’s not a complaint so much as it is an observation. Your hands are already moving to weave through her locks when she takes you in her mouth, cock slowly growing harder in her mouth. 

“We can do it quick,” she mutters, almost inaudible when her lips stay attached to you. “‘Sides, ever wanted to see ourselves fuck?”

Your eyes glance towards the wall, glass ordaining and reflecting you both; Sooin blowing you zealously, that smoky look she gives you through the mirror making you throb in her mouth. Scoffing and shaking your head, a grin begins forming in your features. “Fuck it.” You nod to the wall. “Up against the mirror, Swim.”

Sooin grins, standing up and turning around to face the mirror. Her hands rest on the wall, chest flush against it as she pushes her ass back against you, the shorts she has on pulled down to her ankles along with her underwear to show that beautiful, beautiful fit ass of hers that are paired with her toned legs that you’re wishing would be wrapped around your head again.

Oh, well. Much important matters at hand right now, such as rubbing your tip against her dripping folds. It gets her wiggling her ass back at you, Sooin’s heated gaze through the mirror telling you to hurry the fuck up and dick her down.

You’re pushing in, warm, wet heat enveloping your every inch and a soft moan escaping her lips. Letting yourself be taken away into the tight vice-lip grip she has on you until you bottom out against her the plush cushion of her ass. 

Allowing yourself to take your time with her, even for just a small moment, you pull back, taking inch by inch of your shaft out of her until the very last possible moment where you could ram back in, and gasps and grunts begin filling the small space.

She grows louder first, the dirty curses and quiet gasps that can no longer be contained make you thrust faster, pound her harder until the sounds of your skin hitting hers begin to join. And even with the danger of getting caught, her eyes continue to plead with you.

More.

Your grip on her waist tightens, and you’re hammering into her without a care in the world. The sounds no longer matter to you, nor do the dangers of someone unlocking that door and finding you both. 

The only thing that’s important to you is to have Sooin leaving this room satisfied and possibly unable to walk, and you’re damn well going to make sure that happens. 

You reach out, a palm moving to cover her mouth as your strokes become faster, angling yourself higher to deep that spot that gets Sooin to fall apart in your arms. And you feel the change happen; her moans become loud whines, arm gripping up to yours in an attempt to hold herself together.

Yet you don’t want that. What you want is for her to become undone and flooding your cock with her juices, so you lean in close. Hot breath tickling her ear as you whisper those wants of yours and making them into reality.

She’s quivering in your grip, her eyes shutting tight as your words start to dirty her already filthy mind. “Fuck–” Her voice comes out muffled in your palm as you continue to spout out for her to cum on your cock, to make her wet the floor with how much she’d be squirting all over you. 

It does a number on you too, when you feel her walls clench around you so fucking tight that every thrust is a battle of your willpower. She spurs you on, driving you forward into this animalistic urge to rut into her cunt until you spill your cum inside her.

And when her eyes snap open, you can see the need clouding them. The shrill scream that comes out of her is barely contained by your hand covering them, and she’s trembling in your arms, tightening up around your cock that the next thrust in sends you straight spiralling into your orgasm.

Each messy thrust you make spills more of your load inside her, her own dripping down her leg as you trap her between yourself and the wall. You’re leaving pecks on her neck as you fuck your cum inside her, taking your palm away from her mouth, her satisfied sighs music to your ears.

“That was–” You take a deep breath, inhaling her scent; the post-sex smell of her skin that’s bundled with the powdery notes of her perfume calming you down. “Fuck.”

“That’s what we did, yeah.” Her hand comes up to scratch the back of your head, massaging your scalp. “Still think that bet was a mistake?”

“I think we’re a little past that, Swim.” You gently remove yourself from her, and white starts to drip down her legs. “What you might want to ask yourself is if you still want to try those clothes.”

“Nah.” She pushes herself off the wall, fingers coming down to take a dollop of your cum. “Did you have to cum so much?” Even with her complaint, she’s taking it into her mouth for a taste. “Now my panties are gonna be ruined.”

You’re tucking yourself back into your trousers back up, shrugging at her. “Wonder who I have to blame for that,” you say, and that incites a chuckle out of Sooin.

“Right, my bad for wanting a quickie,” she replies, pulling her underwear and shorts back up. “I’ll be sure to tell you to cum down my throat next time so we don’t mess up more of my clothes.”

She gently shoves you away, shooing you off the stall first with a playful smirk. “Head back to the mattresses, I know what I want to get.”

“Sooin, we don’t have space for a bed.”

“Yeah, we do. We’ll just throw away our old ones.”

—

Depending on how you look at it, things either got better or worse the longer the week went on.

Nothing productive has happened inside your apartment the moment you two managed to fit a King size bed into your room, and if there was, it wasn’t for long once one of you got hold of the other.

Getting woken up every morning by her wet mouth enveloping your flaccid length, throating you until you blow a load straight down her stomach or being awake enough to pull her up and get her riding you in bed has become a daily occurrence.

Your breakfasts, lunches, and dinners all end up a messy affair, with her getting you to eat her out or you getting her on her knees after eating. Which oftentimes lead to someone getting bent over or fucked on the chair. 

And don’t even get started on when it happens before you two eat. That only gets you even hungrier for food, and even more starved to continue fucking after.

The risque and riskier kinks start happening, when she gets you to plow her right in front of the apartment window, not a care in the world whether anyone sees or not. And you get right back when you get her to suck you off in the apartment stairwell after grabbing dinner outside for once.

“You know that there’s a camera watching us, right?” she asks, not a hint of concern in her face as she follows you to the letter, knees hitting the floor and hands playing with the button of your pants.

“The same camera that we’ve been telling the landlord’s broken?” Your hands pull her hair into a makeshift ponytail. “Yeah, I know.” And you’re fucking her face until you paint her pretty face in streaks of white.

Sooin’s uncaring of it in the end, your cum dripping down her face as you walk back up the steps, onto your floor and into your apartment. The sight has you immensely fucked in the head, and that gets her fucked somewhere in the apartment again.

You two just do it anywhere, everywhere. Not a single place in your apartment is unsullied, a single area in your apartment building untouched. The rooftop, the parking lot, the fucking lobby—you’re not even sure how you managed to get away with that without getting caught.

You’re sure Sooin finds ways to, of course.

The pair of you keep on going and going and going, the days blurring by full of the filthiest sex you’ve ever had in your entire life. Your dick has never felt more thankful while simultaneously begging you to take a fucking break because really, when are you not fucking Sooin nowadays?

It’s second nature at this point. Wake up, fuck, eat, fuck, take a nap, fuck, do some chores, fuck, sleep—it’s a whole process that runs on either one of you telling the other how they want to get laid, where she wants your load, why you’re asking her how foldable she is or the like. 

There aren't even any sort of verbal cues anymore. Simply walk up to the other and do what sort of debauchery in mind, finish and go back to whatever it was you were doing.

That last part might need some work, considering neither of you can successfully do that.

Jerk off to her face while she’s playing another game on her phone and watch the cum splatter all over her cheek, stain her hair, have it drip down her phone and all she’ll get angry about is the last bit because she lost her game, that stress released by having her bouncing on top of you until she cums.

Sooin on the phone with one of her friends (you can’t be sure whether it’s Anna or Gawon) when she spots you walking out of your room one morning, gesturing for you to get between her legs and eat her out. You’re amazed at how composed she sounded all throughout, especially when you turn her legs into jelly at the end and the most she’s ever let out was a scream that she disguised by saying that there was a mosquito in the room.

Fucking her in an alleyway on the way home from having lunch at the local ramen shop, the sun in the air adding the high of getting caught up a notch. Getting her on her knees to swallow your load right before you two would’ve gotten caught by some random passerby.

Her getting back at you with the magical treat of her mouth, sucking you off while you drove home. Almost ended in a disaster if you hadn't pulled over in time, another batch of your cum sent straight into her gullet.

Can't go an hour go by without one of you getting handsy, and it's like an average day for you now. Part of your daily life, constantly having sex with her, being readily available to fuck and get fucked.

And to think you were against this whole thing at the start.

So when the last day comes by and you’ve fucked another load into her while she did the dishes, you’re left asking:

“What happens when we wake up tomorrow?”

Sooin pauses, blinks, shrugs. “Dunno,” she answers all casual-like. “What do you want to happen?”

It’s unfair how she leaves the ball in your court. Like she wants to hear your answer before she commits to hers, pretending to not care when she doesn’t bother to even look at you, her attention on the television playing some movie.

“Well,” you ponder, pursing your lips in thought. “We’re either gonna keep fucking or we go back to not fucking.”

“That’d be a shame.” She points the remote to the TV.

Your head turns toward her. “What would?”

“Not fucking.” The channel swaps. “We should keep it going.”

“What?” It’s the fact that she looks so unbothered that’s making you question how serious she is. You sit up straighter, entire chest tilting toward her now. “You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Her knuckles rest on the side of her head. “We’d probably need to stop with the random quickies when the semester starts, and it’s not like we can’t go back to not fucking with the amount of sex we’ve had the entire week.”

Your jaw hangs low, unsure of what to say. Thanks Sooin, that’s such a good idea. Maybe we should also put a label on us too? Sounds like such an insane thing to pull, and you’ve grown quiet to the point that Sooin takes a glance at you.

“You don’t gotta say anything.” She nudges you with her elbow. “It’s a good thing we got going. Long as you’re good, I’m good.”

“And that makes us, what–” You shake your head. “Fuck buddies?”

She laughs. Says sure, it’s not like she’ll be looking for anyone else when she’s got you. Long as you don’t go looking for no Chaewon’s or Chaeyoung’s or whatever name they got she’ll be a-okay.

And you’re scoffing, smiling and agreeing to the whole thing with a kiss to her cheek; getting her to roll her eyes at you and give you another, harder nudge with her elbow.

“Okay, man,” she chuckles. “The kiss was a bit much.”

“Oh come on–” you let out a laugh. “You can take my cum on your face but you draw the line with a kiss on the cheek?”

“Well, when you put it like that–” Sooin lands her gaze on you, smile playing on her lips, mischief in her eyes. “It does sound a little stupid, doesn’t it?”

She closes the distance between you, pressing her lips against yours for a quick kiss. “Happy?”

“Yeah, Swim.” You tap your finger between your lips. “Maybe one more for good measure?”

A shove. “Don’t push it, asshole.” A beat passes. Her hands fumble around your sweatpants.

“We can do one more round for the road.”

—

When the morn comes around after a late night of getting Sooin to ruin the bedsheets again (you’ve discovered that she’s a squirter when you pound her ass up, face down), you wake up to a Sooin-less bed, and that alone gets you up and about. Spot her eating a sandwich with some strawberry jam filling, fighting to stay awake as she stares at her laptop.

Greet her a good morning and sit down next to her on the couch. “What’s got you up so early?”

“Gotta get my schedule sorted out,” she mumbles, taking another bite of her bread. “Why didn’t you tell me we already could?”

“I did.” You slide down the sofa, getting more comfortable. “Like two days ago.” You’re not about to tell her that you reminded her of it while she was getting fucked on top of the laundry machine, of course.

You know when your life is on the line.

She lets out a groan, complaining about her classes being so early, getting the shitty professors and the shitty schedule and all you can think about are her luscious thighs peeking underneath your shirt she has on.

Reaching out, fingers resting on the soft skin, caressing upwards to feel more; all to be stopped with a slap on the wrist.

“Not now, dude,” she says, her hand coming back to slide a finger across the touchpad. “I really want a decent schedule for next semester.”

You blink. Your brain catching up to what you’re body is doing and you remember:

Right. Bet’s over, no more fucking for the fun of it and all the shenanigans that it entails (shame, you’ll miss it immensely). It’ll be a smooth transition (it won’t, you’re already suffering withdrawals not being balls deep inside her right now) from not having sex all the time.)

“Alright, alright,” you relent, taking a glance at the kitchen counter. “Want some coffee?”

“Please,” she replies, making you groggily stand up to make two cups. She stops you with a glance and your name, making you turn back to her.

“Fuck me when I’m done with this?”

You chuckle, roll your eyes and wave a hand in the air.

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.

I have still not decided if I should move or stay, or keep using both as I'm very inactive right now due to school shit. I can't promise I'll stick to a decision because there might be a time that I'll stick to finding employment and have no spare hours for writing. That is why I'm working really hard on my last commission; with the time they're overdue I felt the need to make the quality and length past $12. I want to finish it so I can focus on college, something I didn't have the resources to focus on due to unforeseen issues.

HOWEVER, whatever my decision will be, I hope it will be treated with respect as the decisions of other writers should have been. At the end of the day, it is up to readers if they will still read our stories or not. But it is important to remember that they, as writers, also have the choice to write and post on the platforms they want to, whether it is tumblr or fanprose.

That is the beauty of interacting with a community: unlike school, work and real life in general, you have the power to choose. You also have it in you to ultimately respect said decisions.

The community should always be founded in respect. We respect the idols writers like to post whether or not they are our biases. We respect the genres and kinks in these stories even if we might not be personally into them. We respect the writing style of each author although we have our own preferences.

Recently, we are losing that kind of respect that made me love this community so much. Please keep in mind that behind every blog is a human being who is capable of doing what they want with their own responsibilities. Smut writing and reading should be fun. You and I do not have authority over anyone.

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.

So goodbye tumblr. I'll miss you.

and to steal from one of the greats

“Give me at least some time to have a second look before the meeting.” She flashes a smile. “Irene didn't like the numbers last time.”

“The numbers are the numbers, Heejin. What does she expect me to do - magically change the metrics into something they're not?”

“Which is why - I said - try and give me some review time.” Her eyes settle on a bobblehead on the table next to you. “What am I your mentor for?”

“To show me around the cafés.”

“That I do on my own unpaid time, thank you very much.” She taps the toy’s head - on the otherwise empty table - and it springs back with a sharp bounce. “Looks like the rest of the team isn’t in today either.”

“Yeah, well - Christmas week. Unlike me, most people have a life.” A momentary pause, then you squint your eye at the unsaid implication with her right there. There's lines, you see - unspoken, but drawn all the same. You're supposed to be coworkers - same team - but there's boundaries you don’t cross.

Her hand presses down on the toy’s head, holding it still. “Lunch?”

“Sure. Yes. Where do you wanna go?”

—

You raise a hand at her from far behind. She's looking around, tray piled high with three bowls of food. Her eyes catch yours - and she starts mouthing something, but it's anyone’s guess what. Finally she gives up, and walks over to the table.

“I was asking if you wanted the cake. It just got refilled, so I figured you probably didn't have the chance to pick one up.”

“Oh - no,” you blurt out without thinking.

Maybe you did. Either way, it's too late to change your mind now.

“Sure? You can have half of mine.” She furrows her brow.

Well, it can only be a stronger no now. Dig a hole, and you have to lie in it. Or something.

“Yeah. Sure. Eating light today.”

She glances at the four slices of pizza you've appropriately chosen to take today. “Light.”

“No sugar light, I mean.” The hole only gets deeper.

“Suit yourself,” she says, taking a bite of the pasta. “I'm not getting scammed by airport prices later, so I'm filling up while I can.”

“Oh, right,” you recall. “Packing all done?”

“Yeah, did most of it over the weekend.” She sighs. “My room got so moldy last time; I'll keep the windows open.”

“You could maybe leave the fan on too,” you suggest.

“I thought of that, but I don't want my roommates to think I'm careless or something.” She spins her fork, tapping the back of it against her chin. “Maybe I'll inform them in advance.”

“Yeah. Maybe you should.” You take a bite of the pizza, which is actually surprisingly light.

“What did you do this weekend?”

You look up at the ceiling. “Bed-rotted, mostly. Caught a movie.”

Chomping on her pasta, she gestures with her hand - which one?

“A documentary.”

Gestures again - about what?

“Uhh…”

—

“I think I had too much. Why did you choose this place?” she asks, stepping out the door.

“Did I?” You raise a hand at the sun, squinting. “I kinda don't remember who suggested.”

“Me neither. But the junior's supposed to take the blame.”

“Blame taken.” A curt bow with your head. “A walk could help,” you offer.

“In this heat? My knees have been hurting too.” She thinks for a few seconds. “Alright, maybe it'll help.”

The main entrance rolls by: workers hanging lights from the ceiling, Christmas trees being unloaded from a truck, decorations lining the wall.

“Dunno if it'll be ready by the time I leave today,” she muses. “Bet it's gonna look real pretty when it's done.”

“What time's your flight?”

“Seven, but I'll be leaving earlier - going with my roommate whose flight’s an hour before mine. Save the costs, y'know?”

“Smart.” You nod. “Better to be early than late, too.”

“Tell me about it.” Heejin laughs. “One time my cab ran out of gas on the way - can you believe it?” Her index finger traces slow, soft circles at her temple. “It was kinda the middle of nowhere, too. Scary! I made the driver stay till my next cab came. I thought my flight was gone.“

“Was it?”

“No. But why take risks again?”

You run a hand through your hair. “Maybe you can also tell her in the cab - about the fan.”

“Well, the assumptions will start the moment we leave the house. So I’ll probably have to tell her before that.”

“Smart.” You tap your finger against your jeans. “Guess that's why you're the mentor.”

Heejin's eyes drift back to the Christmas tree, naked and bare. Not dressed up - not yet - for her night of the year. “I really hope they finish decorating soon.”

—

“Ugh, I am in no mood to resolve these compliance issues,” she sighs. “Will probably work on these in the airport later.”

Your eyebrows perk. “Are they urgent?”

“Not really. I’ll be bored. What else to do?”

You stare past her. A slight drizzle falls; not the kind that calls for an umbrella, but enough to leave shadows ghosting on the long office windows. It’ll wash away her question too - what else to do?

Heejin starts packing her bag: her laptop slides into the compartment, and her headphones follow suit. She throws a half-eaten pack of peppermints in her hoodie pocket.

“Leaving?” you ask.

“In a bit. I’ll go have coffee downstairs, then leave.” She smiles. “So - Merry Christmas!”

So if you draw a decision tree here, there’s a few ways to take this. When it’s just the two of you, she usually calls you for coffee. But if she doesn’t ask, there’s really just one valid option - however unappealing. Not much of a tree, more like a stem. Of course, you didn’t actually draw the tree before saying what you did; it just happened to coincide with what you would have said if you did:

“Merry Christmas, and have a safe flight!”

“Thanks, take care.”

—

Sunset, and you're leaving. Slide deck is not anywhere near done, and that's just as well. You'll be bored when you get home - what else to do?

Some calculations - you'll have a couple hours until her flight lands, and ideally you want to send it to her by then. She's not gonna stay up for what is technically your work. Why would she?

Meeting’s first thing in the morning, and she's definitely not a morning person. So - if you’re gonna send - it has to be by tonight.

You walk past the first block, music playing in your ears. The headphones are bright, but outside noises creep in from time to time. A car horn, a screeching bike, and when you get close enough - workers chatting loudly.

You turn, and the main entrance looks much the same as before. A few more lights, a few more ornaments on the Christmas tree - but still not nearly as pretty as she should be.

Why aren't they done? Isn't it supposed to be ready by tomorrow?

Maybe they planned on working the night.

What else to do?

—

Heejin joins the call - “Hey, good morning. We have, what, five minutes before the meeting starts?”

“Hm, yeah. Ballpark.” You fidget with the UI, trying to put your slides on. “Can you see my screen?”

“Mhm.” She smiles, peering behind you. “Didn't go to the office today?”

“No I stayed up all night working on the slides, and, uhh…” See, there's a thread you can follow here. She asked you something, and you can maybe ask something back - how was the flight? reached on time this time? but -

She cuts off the phantom thread: “I see. Okay - walk me through it. Quick, quick, quick.”

What started as a smile on Heejin's face - step-by-step - evolves into a frown as the slides roll by. Much to your concern.

Thank-you slide, and “Well?” you ask.

“Well,” she says, shaking her head, “this won't do. Irene's gonna grill you on this.”

You cover your face in disbelief. Disbelief is… rich. It's not like you didn't know the data sucked. Just that you didn't want to admit it, hear it said out so loud. Not this soon, atleast.

Heejin exhales sharply and sits up straight. “You're still gonna have to present - I already told Irene that. But the cross-questions, maybe I can take them.”

“But…” you stutter. “Are you sure? You - you don't even have context on the numbers.”

“I'll go through them quickly, build a narrative. You just - focus on - ”

Irene joins the call.

—

You weren't planning to go to the office today. It just didn't feel right not to, after this morning. You could swear the lack of sleep was killing you but - here you are, standing in front of the main entrance.

You were never someone who cared much for aesthetics like these. Sure, they looked nice - yellow lights shimmering on the walls, a Christmas tree dressed in ornaments from top to bottom, lanterns swaying gently from the ceiling - but that’s all they were to you: nice. Nothing more.

Again, it's not planned or anything, but when every passer-by is pulling out their phone for a click - it just feels wrong not to. So you do, too.

There's a bit of a crossroads here, a decision tree: you have the picture on your phone - you can now either just keep it, let it weigh down on you. Or do something with it.

And that's when lines come into the picture. There are lines, sure, but they're not well defined. When you're far enough in either direction, it's clear which side you’re on. But when you hover near the edge - around where dots blur - who's to tell where you stand? It's not an exact science.

You wish it were, but it's not.

So, like all other things, you'll leave it up to fate. You're in the lobby - surrounded by automatic doors on all sides - and your elevator is here. Cool. While coming back down, if your ride is on the right, you'll hit send; otherwise, well.

Yeah.

—

Sunset again, and you're leaving. You press the down button and wait for your ride to arrive politely.

After a long day of trying to disambiguate the position of the line - not much unlike a high-school math problem - it's time for you to receive your answer. The gods themselves will decide what's right. And you'll receive the message, of course, if you remember which way you were pointing when you decided on left and right.

You do remember, right?

The thread floats in the air, still. A few seconds.

A ping shuts it down. The lift has arrived, and you'll have to get on. There's people waiting. There's a line.

You don't remember which way you were pointing, but you sure know which way you hope you were.

Open work chat, and Heejin’s name sits at the top - reacted thumbs up to thanks for saving my ass.

Pull up the picture and type: “you wanted to see it fully dressed up - well, there ya go.”

Your finger hovers over the send button for a couple of seconds, then presses down. Hard.

A typing bubble pops up almost instantly, then vanishes just as quick: “hehe thanks for sharing, it looks really good!!!”

Perhaps it's just very photogenic.

You'll smile nonetheless.

Because as much as I enjoy writing still (please check out infinity), my overall metrics have completely fallen off a cliff. Granted, two obvious things are at play here: the big migration to Fanprose (which I am also part of) and the last two fics being radically different to the smuts you most likely discovered me by. One was a personal reflection about being a fan to your idols, and the other is a disaster sci-fi fic about the end of the world. Two pieces that most of you probably didn't sign up for.

And I'll be completely honest with you: I've lost the drive and/or touch to write smut. Whenever I try to write smut, it feels off and I have no motivation to write them as much as I used to. With other plots, it feels natural and I can get into a rhythm easily, but smut feels like a huge mental block to write for. (Says person trying to write smut again while making this update). This doesn't mean I'll stop writing smut outright, but not as much as I used to. This might feel like a betrayal for some of you who followed me for my smuts, and I understand where you're coming from.

And then there's the Fanprose side of things. Amazing site. My qualms for it are little, but it's got the best features of every other writing site without their flaws. I highly recommend it for anyone looking for an optimal reading experience. That doesn't mean I'll abandon this site completely like everyone else; I still want to support other platforms whenever I can, because you never know. However, the numbers don't lie, Chico. I simply haven't gotten as much love in terms of reception or feedback on any site lately. And it's got me questioning if my writing has completely dropped off, because the one part I don't get is people getting as much feedback or comments in terms of comments/likes/etc. Maybe I just fuckin' suck and people don't want to say it outright.

So yeah, while I carry on with a few projects on the horizon (a miniseries and a smut) in the meantime, I wanna know: is there anything I can do better?

with grace

peter / π

The waitress took the small cloth hanging off her shoulder and wrapped it around her hand, protecting her palm from the blistering heat from the clay cover as she lifted it.

The heavy smell of curried spice and coconutty seafood wafted into Minju’s nose, and her mouth started to water in anticipation of her own order.

She looked at the clock on the wall and stared at the seconds hand that was twirling around the numbers. Then she looked back at the mother who was now stirring the claypot of seafood curry in a similar manner to the ticking of the clock.

12:36 p.m.

“Where's my food…” Minju muttered under her breath as she tried to wave for the waitress again, but she darted to another table behind and gave a couple their order, completely ‘ignoring’ her as she wallowed herself in the busyness of the lunch crowd.

12:43 p.m.

“I only have seventeen minutes left,” Minju mumbled as her lunch break inched towards finality. She tapped her feet impatiently and waved her air-stabbed-fork at a waiter, which he finally gave her a merciful response, pumping his palm out and asked her to wait as he attended to a lady asking for a refill of orange juice.

But he never came.

12:50 p.m.

Minju couldn’t wait anymore.

“Excuse me!” she shouted, her voice thundering across the layered conversations of people chatting and clinking of metal utensils on porcelain plates.

Two waitresses, four waiters, a cashier stared at her, along with thirty-seven pairs of eyes of staff-stealing customers and the hollow pupils of a ghost of silence.

The silence enacted by the ghost was broken by a waiter.

“Yes?”

Minju took in a deep breath and exhaled her forty-three minutes worth of displeasure.

“I’ve been waiting for my food since—”

She pointed at the clock.

“—12:07 p.m.! People who had arrived after me got their food. Where's mine?”

Her finger arced horizontally towards a couple by the diner’s door.

“They came in ten minutes ago, and they're now halfway through their chicken cutlet fried rice and spicy dumpling noodles. Where's mine?”

“M-Maybe they're still cook—”

“Oh don't you give me that excuse,” Minju shot back in irritance. “I only ordered a simple plain rice with a some beef stew, because that's your speciality, but apparently I was just served with a special dose of ignorance and negligence! Now I’m left with what, seven minutes until my lunch break ends, and considering that it takes five minutes to walk back, don’t I only have two minutes left to eat?”

Minju’s face flushed red, wheezing from anger.

“Can you even bring me my food in two minutes?”

“W-We’re sor—”

“Whatever, I’m leaving.”

Minju stood up and grabbed her bag, stomping out of the diner. She frowned at the sweltering heat outside that served nothing apart from giving her welling irritation a huge dose of sweat.

Sighing in defeat, her heart cried at the despair of spending the rest of her day with an empty stomach as she turned to walk back—

“Miss!”

A shout sounded from the alleyway beside the diner.

A young man in a chef attire covered by an apron appeared into view, his name printed on the barely shiny tag stuck on the left of his chest.

“What?” Minju asked in faux annoyance, peering at his name tag. “Are you going to give me my food right now, Mister… Theo?”

“Yes,” he bowed, holding out a paper bag. “It seemed that the waitress that took your order had forgotten to key them into the ordering system. While the manager has reprimanded her, I still think that it is our fault for not showing you attention despite your constant calls for assistance.”

Minju looked at the man who had his head still facing the ground, flustered by the situation.

“I didn't mean for you to apo—”

“No,” he raised his body, looking at her. “It’s not much, but I managed to sneakily put together something for you. Please don't go hungry, it's not a nice feeling.”

He gave another small bow and turned, heading back into the diner.

“Hey!” Minju called out to him. “T-Thanks!”

“Please don't blacklist us?” he chuckled and waved with a smile. “I hope to see you back here!”

He disappeared into the diner.

Minju looked into the bag. It held a small metal tin. The top was transparent and she could see rice tucked neatly to one half, along with three to four assorted dishes randomly squeezed into the other half.

Looks like she'd have to come back and return the metal tin.

🌸 🌸 🌸

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know?”

“But I want to,” he said, letting go of the lunch box. “Besides, you say that, but your hands are saying otherwise.”

Minju giggled and popped the box’s lid open.

“Well, I can’t let your efforts go to waste, right?” she remarked, removing the chopsticks fastened on the underside of the lid. “And it’s not like I can resist what you always prepare for me. It’s always a treat and an honour even to taste the delicacies of a two-starred royal family’s head chef.”

“Two stars? The only stars I have are the stars I see when I dream of you at night,” he stood up and ruffled her hair. “I’m just a sous chef at a random cheap ass diner who can’t even afford ingredients of minimal quali—”

“Shush.”

“—If I have even one of the two stars that you think I hav—”

“Theo!”

“—I’d throw it across the sky and wish for endless money so that I can cook you the nicest food every day.”

Minju sighed and grabbed on to his arm, pulling him back onto the bench.

“Can you stop lamenting yourself for one second?”

Theo chuckled and leaned back onto the bench’s back rest, squinting at the glowing clouds covering the sun behind.

“You know I am always thinking about you,” he said, poking her cheek with his finger.

“And why aren’t you my boyfriend yet?”

Theo cleared his throat and looked at the imaginary watch on his wrist.

“Aren’t you gonna eat? Time’s ticking.”

Minju pouted and slumped her shoulders, but the moment she lifted the metal lunch box, her annoyance faded. She looked at the food inside — hand cut noodles tossed with a slightly spicy ginger scallion chill oil, topped with a poached egg and meatless numbing spicy tofu stew on the side. She stuck her chopsticks in and loosened the flat noodles slightly before twirling them around the two mini metal poles like spaghetti on the prongs of a fork.

Theo watched Minju put the noodle spiral into her mouth, watching her chew softly with bated breath.

“How is it?”

Minju hummed softly, eyebrows furrowing and lifting in irregular patterns as though they were conductor sticks, waving as they directed the orchestra of flavour explosions in her mouth.

“It’s alright,” she said.

“Alright…” Theo mumbled, his face dropping slightly at the lack of reaction he desired.

Minju’s pupils snaked to the corner of her eyes, glancing at his dejected expression.

“You’re such an easy person to tease~” she laughed, already twirling another mouthful of noodles with her chopsticks. “Why would this only be alright? I could eat it all day everyday.”

Once the noodle spiral was done, she poked a cube of tofu drenched in the numbing tofu sauce, completing her self-made noodle skewer.

“Did you eat?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you not going to eat again?”

“Seeing you eat makes me full,” Theo said. “Besides, you know what they say about cooks. They don’t eat what they cook.”

Minju stabbed the yolk of the poached egg and let the golden goo flow over the noodles.

“Why though?”

“Hmmm… maybe it’s because we’re already constantly dealing with food? At some point it just feels like it’s not enjoyable anymore. Job fatigue or something like that.”

Minju set the lunch box down and looked at Theo. His eyes were weary from onion chopping, shoulders heavy from wok tossing, and his fingers were calloused from constant heat exposure and never-ending hand washing.

He looked exhausted.

But yet, his voice still carried a tone of mellow and content serenity as he closed his eyes and soaked his skin with the rays of the spring sun.

Minju picked up and held on to her chopsticks tightly, making another noodle-tofu skewer before putting it into her mouth. Then she made another as she chewed.

“Mr Theo.”

His eyes shot open at her call.

“W-What’s with the sudden formality?”

Minju stabbed the skewer towards him but stopped it right before his mouth.

“Eat.”

“What? No! That’s your share.”

“Eat.”

“I’m not hungry, really.”

Minju’s eyes narrowed.

“If you’re not going to eat, I’m never meeting you again.”

Theo’s eyes darted to from her face to the chopsticks, then back to her slitted eyes.

“Okay, okay,” he said, opening his mouth in defeat.

Minju stuffed the food into his mouth which he reluctantly closed his lips, pulling the noodles and tofu off the chopsticks with a slide.

“How is it?” Minju asked, watching Theo chew eagerly as if trying to make it a point to her that he was in fact eating.

“It’s good,” he said. “The flavours are well balanced, and it isn’t too spicy, which is what you always like.”

Minju listened and picked up another piece of tofu with the chopsticks, putting it in her mouth.

“So, if you already know the answer, why did you ask me earlier?”

“I—”

Minju sighed and rested the chopsticks back into the lunchbox. She raised her hand and readied her fingers onto Theo’s forehead, giving him a hard flick.

“Ow!” Theo exclaimed, rubbing the redness that was already starting to form on the skin between his eyes.

“You. Should. Take. Care. Of. Your. Self.” Minju frowned and scolded, her fingers already preparing for another flick.

“Alright, alright! I promise,” Theo murmured in defeat.

“I don’t trust you.”

“I swear!”

“No,” Minju said. She picked the lunchbox back up and passed it to Theo. “Half. Let’s share.”

“But I made that for you…”

“Share,” she insisted. “Blame it on yourself. Who asked you to not take care of yourself and only focus on me? Do you think it would make me feel good if you fainted from hunger?”

She pushed the box into his hands and looked at him, her expression softening slightly.

“Theo.”

“Yes?”

“Those chopsticks contain my saliva.”

“…And?”

Minju turned her head away from him, her cheeks blazing red.

“And that was my first indirect kiss.”

The moment those words left her mouth, she stood and picked up her handbag, running away in shyness.

“Wh—”

Theo held on to the lunchbox, dumbfounded at Minju’s words. He raised his fingers and touched his lips, his mind wandering off into a dream in broad daylight.

“First… kiss…”

His cheeks flushed red.

Watching Minju running off into the distance, Theo gave a shout at the top of his lungs.

“See you tomorrow!”

Minju stopped behind a blooming cherry tree farther away. She placed a hand over her chest.

A strange warmth.

She turned back and looked at him.

Theo was still sitting on the bench, smiling as he finally continued to eat the lunch she had forced him to share.

Minju smiled without realizing it.

Then she turned and continued home.

☀️ ☀️ ☀️

She opened the doors to their house.

“You sure this is going to work?” Minju asked as she walked in.

“Do you not trust me?” he replied, carrying a carton filled with popsicle sleeves into the room from behind her.

“I do, but I don’t trust myself…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’m equally as clueless. But I’m sure it’ll be fine? We have the recipe from your mom, and it's summer. I’m sure they’ll sell like hotcakes.”

“I sure hope so…” Minju muttered. “So what do we do first?”

He picked up the recipe that Minju had left on the kitchen counter and read it.

“We’ll need some heavy cream, condensed milk and vanille extract,” he said. “We’ll just need to errrr… mix them all together as fast as we can and freeze it.”

Minju took out the ingredients as he read them off the list, and reached for a large bowl and whisk.

“So, how much?” she asked.

“That, is a very good question,” he said. “I have no idea. There aren't any numbers the recipe. You sure you didn't miss them out when copying?”

Minju frowned and took the paper from him.

“Copy? This was the exact piece of paper I tore from my mother's cookbook.”

He stared at her and gave an awkward laugh.

“Well… I guess we have much to worry about then.”

“Why?” Minju asked. “We could just delay the opening, right? Right until we get the right ice cream formula?”

“I… spent all our money on a no refund loan of the shop cart for a week. There are no allowable changes to the rental period, so if we don't even break even during this coming week, we're goners.”

“And the rental starts tomorrow?”

“Yep,” he said, giving an awkward smile.

Minju laughed and picked up the whisk, her other hand grabbing on to the scissors.

“Well, looks like we don't have much of a choice. Let's just try our best.”

He nodded and took the scissors from her, opening the pack of heavy cream. Emptying the entire packet into the bowl, he slid it to Minju, who started whisking as fast as she could. Meanwhile, he took a can opener and opened several small metal cans, the soft grinding sound of metal on metal filling the air. Pulling their lids up, he pushed them over and poured the condensed milk into bowl while Minju mixed.

“Say, why did you choose a cart with no refund option?”

Looking at how her vigorous whisking had started to slow down, he took the whisk from her and started stirring.

“I just thought that if we're already going to be spending our precious money, we might as well get the best cart possible.”

The heavy cream was starting to foam from the agitation as he stirred, the mixture slowly turning into a thick creamy paste.

“I just didn't expect that the recipe would have no numbers…” he mumbled.

“I’m not even mad at you, so why are you feeling down?” Minju asked. “Plus, it's partly my fault as well. I should have checked beforehand.”

“Oh well,” he sighed, scooping up the paste with the whisk. The paste flowed off the gaps between the thin metal, and he repeated this motion several times as he evaluated the mixture with uncertainty.

“I think that's enough? It looks like melted ice cream already.”

“How long does it take to freeze them?” Minju asked.

“About six hours? At least that's what I've heard from my friends.”

“Right, so we won't know how it’ll turn out until midnight. Whatever, we ball. Let's start making the different flavours.”

He nodded and opened a bottle of vanilla extract, giving the mixture a generous dose of black liquid gold.

“So, what did you get?” he asked.

Minju pulled out a bag of groceries and put them on the table, before taking out the smaller bags inside.

“Strawberries, mangoes, grapes, chocolate chips, rice puffs.”

“Praise the King! You’ve even got chocolate rice?”

He picked up the bag of colourful rice, shaking it excitedly.

“That's a good choice! Kids will definitely love it.”

Minju and him began splitting the mixture into different batches, each one for a different flavour.

They chopped the strawberries and mangoes into bite-sized chunks, mixing them into each batch. Once they gave the batch another good mix, they began pouring the thick viscous liquid into the popsicle sleeves.

“There we go, strawberry flavoured popsicles done,” Minju said, looking at the thirty or so sticks lying on the kitchen counter. “Into the freezer they go.”

He smiled and gathered them on a tray, bringing them to the freezer. They continued to finish up the rest of the popsicles, and by the time they were done, it was already close to dinner time. A good two hundred popsicles were all stuffed into the freezer, and they both stared at the numerous colourful sticks that was barely hardening before closing the refrigerator door.

It was now time to wait.

“I'm starving…” Minju complained.

“Shall we head out for dinner?” he asked.

“It's so hot outside though… I’m so sweaty. Let's just order in.”

He nodded and picked up a communicator, calling the nearest restaurant.

“What did you get?” Minju asked.

“Some spicy noodles and spicy tofu stew. We gotta combat the heat with more heat. Sweat it all out.”

“You always know what I like without me telling you,” Minju grinned. “Oh, I did buy some watermelon, shall we make some punch? I remember that we have some soda that is expiring soon.”

“Sure,” he nodded. Taking the quarter cut watermelon from the grocery bag, he began chopping the red flesh into cubes, throwing them into a fancy crystal bowl.

Minju grabbed four cans of soda and emptied them into the bowl, not before tossing the remaining leftover strawberries and mangoes into the bowl and gave it a good mix with a ladle.

“I could be a chef,” she boasted, giving the punch a small nod of approval after stealing a sip for a taste test.

“It's just fruit in soda,” he chuckled, scooping the punch into two glasses. He stuck a straw and an ice cream spoon in both glasses and topped it with some leftover mint leaves that had been sitting in the chiller for a week.

“Let's drink while we wait,” he said, walking towards the courtyard.

He took a seat on the wooden bench and Minju promptly joined him, settling by his side. She leaned back slightly and perched her body with one of her hands, the other holding on to her precious watermelon punch. Her body was flushed from the summer heat and glossy from sweat, but she paid the unpleasant feeling no mind while she sipped on the cooling fruity beverage.

“I love spending time with you like this,” she said. “I don't know why, but it feels like I’ve done this with you before. Countless times. Well, maybe not exactly the same, but yeah, if you get what I mean.”

He grabbed on to her hand and gave it a small squeeze.

“Maybe it's just your dreams? You do mumble in your sleep quite often.”

Minju sat forward and scooped a watermelon chunk into her mouth.

“Hmm… maybe. Anyway, it's not like it's anything bad. Probably déjà vu or something.”

Right then, a mini disc floated into their courtyard, a plastic bag hanging off it. It slowly descended, setting the bag down before flying off.

Their dinner had arrived.

He walked over and picked up the bag, bringing it back to the wooden bench. Untying the knot, he took out two metal tins before passing one to Minju. She opened it and took a whiff at the noodles within.

“They smell awesome~” she hummed.

He popped open the last container filled with spicy tofu stew and placed it between both of them, before running to the kitchen to fetch a sharing spoon.

"Let's eat,” he said.

The two of them chatted over dinner, but it was mostly Minju just listening to him talk. There was no end to the way he took care of her. One moment he was scooping a ladle full of vegetables and tofu for her, the other he was running back to the kitchen to refill her empty glass with more watermelon punch.

“Hey, y’know, what if we don't manage to even earn back enough to cover the rental?” Minju asked, slurping another mouthful of spicy noodles. “Or even sell half of the popsicles?”

He set his food down and reached his hand forward, wiping the beads of sweat that was flowing down her cheek. Sweat from both the summer heat and spicy food.

“We try again,” he said. “Summer’s just barely started after all. We could take the opportunity of the coming week to test our recipes.”

“But we don't really have any more money,” Minju mumbled, finishing up her last mouthful of food. Her lips were swollen from the spice, and she was desperately trying to “unswollen” it through her watermelon potion.

“You don't want anymore?” he asked, pointing at the remaining food.

“I'm full~”

He picked up the bowl of tofu stew that was almost empty and ate directly from it.

“I am an advocate of positive thinking. I refuse to believe that we can't sell any ice cream at all. How bad can it be?”

“I don't know?” Minju chuckled, laying down on the wooden bench, a palm placed over her belly that was full from dinner. “You know, there's this quote the King always says.”

“The one about some law or something?”

“Yea, he named it after himself, calling it King Cole’s Law, saying Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.”

“Weren't there rumours that he stole the quote from a guy named Murphy?” he asked as he finished all the remaining food before picking up his glass of punch and sipped from it.

“Well, a lady named Miss Rumour whispered in my ears when I was shopping at the market, saying that there isn't a guy name Murphy anymore after he made noise about plagiarism. Miss Rumour speculated that he was offed.”

“Wow,” he said, leaning forward to poke her belly, telling her she'd get fat if she lied down immediately after dinner. “Oh well, no one can go against the King after all. Anything can be considered as treason if it displeases him. Anything else you heard from… Miss Rumour?”

“A few, but as I said, they're all baseless claims. There's one about a failed attempt to summon an evil god, and another about a brewing war with the heretics. There's even one about the launch of an anti-hair loss shampoo that's said to make a bald man grow half a metre of hair overnight!”

He laughed at the ridiculous stories that Minju spewed.

“Say…”

He looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“Yes, my dear Minju?”

“I don't know why, I'm always getting the feeling of people leaving me, or maybe me leaving people.”

She sat up and stirred her almost empty cup with the long spoon, stabbing and crushing the watermelon chunks within into chunks.

“What's gotten into you?” he asked, inching forward to rub his hand on her sweaty forehead, brushing the sweat off her wet and soaked hair. “Has the heat gotten to your head? You want to take a shower?”

Minju stared into his eyes, looking at his shining pupils, a million thoughts seemingly running through her mind.

“Caelan,” she called.

“Yes?”

Then her lips parted to ask him a question softly.

“Will you ever leave me?”

🍂 🍂 🍂

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

He looked at her who had set down her knife and fork, staring at him with an unquantifiable sadness in her eyes.

“When?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was a subtle crack inside that could never escape Minju.

“Tomorrow.”

He put down his fork and picked up the glass of water from the side, bringing it towards his mouth as the liquid inside shook and rippled with trepidation.

“Then I guess we should make the most of our time left together.”

Minju nodded and stood up, walking to his side. She grabbed on to his hand and pulled him upwards, leading him out of the dining room. He followed her quietly, watching her guide him down the hallway, past the countless windows that showed the setting golden sun. The leaves of the trees were orange-red, signifying the fading warmth of summer as the world around senesced into cool and chilly conditions.

Just like his relationship with her.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he asked, stopping in the middle of their walk.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” she said, stopping to turn and face him. “I know that you’ll worry because you always worry, and I didn’t want our remaining time spent together to be full of nothing but worry.”

She looked down at his hands and gripped it firmly.

“I’m sorry.”

He looked at her in the eyes. He thought of the times where they were inseparable. One time he was going out for a run with her, another she joined him as he tended to the shrubs and bushes in the courtyard.

He was always smiling.

And she was always smiling.

“I love it when you smile,” he said softly. “And I love it even more because you make me smile.”

Minju looked at him, her cheeks raising gently, face beaming into a wider grin.

“Then let’s keep on smiling.”

She pulled him into her embrace and hugged him tight, and he squeezed her even tighter.

“Shall we?” Minju said. “I don’t want to forget you.”

“Will you ever forget me?” he asked.

Minju let go and pulled his hand again, tugging him down the hallway, right into their room. The moment he entered, he was swirled with a tender force, and the next thing he knew, his back was met with the soft cushions of their mattress. Silky soft hair hung down her face as she looked at him in the eyes, her soft yet firm hands planted on either side of his head.

“Minju…” he muttered, his eyes drunk with desire.

“Today’s the last day I’ll be called by my name,” she whispered, her lips lowering onto his. Her breath was hot against his, and she could feel herself losing the little control she had left. “Tomorrow, I’ll only be known as Commander.”

Minju pressed her forehead against his, tears welling up in her eyes.

“So please… call my name like it’s the last time.”

She pressed her lips onto his, kissing him with all her love.

The love she gave to him. The love she had for him. And the love she had reserved for him.

Her heart wrenched with every passing second. She cupped his face as her tongue drove deep, drinking in his sadness and resentment at the world that stole them from each other. Their breaths drew short amidst the kiss, but neither of them wanted to let go of each other.

After what seemed like an eternity, he pushed her off and flipped her onto the bed, his body now mounting hers.

“Minju.”

She looked at him with glassy eyes. Her face was no longer pristine from the make out and her hair was in a mess, random strands splayed across the soft cushions, but neither of them cared.

“My dear,” she mumbled, blushing at the way he was staring at her.

“Minju.”

He reached towards the buttons on her dress and began loosening it.

“Minju.”

Each time he called her name, he removed a button. He made his way down, releasing her soft mounds from constriction, exposing the deep valley of her chest, airing the smooth and milky skin of her navel. He gently grabbed onto her sleeves and pulled them downwards, releasing her satin-soft, velvety skin that was supple as he undressed her entirely.

He took a look at her.

One look. Rays from the sun of the golden hour humbly graced her skin, casting their radiance on her.

A second look. An aura of shyness emanating out from the iron-willed goddess as she covered her breasts in embarrassment.

A third look. The forbidden warmth that was pulsing out from her core, one that was set to replace the dying summer heat.

He took many more looks at her, carving the memory of her beauty, her gaze, her breath, her smell… the memory of her into his mind.

“How long will you be gone?” he muttered, latching his mouth onto her earlobes, nibbling it softly.

“As long as it needs to be,” she grunted, shivers sent down her spine.

“When will you be back?” he asked, biting on her nape.

“As soon as I am done,” she moaned, her hands wrapping around his back.

“When will I see you again?” he growled, suckling one nipple as he kneaded the soft flesh of her other breast.

“When the war ends,” she cried, back arching off the bed from the incomprehensible pleasure.

He removed his clothes and tossed them to the side. They were now both naked and bare, bodies pulsing with the wanting heat and need for each other.

“You’re so hard,” she hummed, wrapping her fingers around his length. “Much harder than ever.”

He shivered as she gave him a few small strokes, drinking in the pleasure that he will probably never get to feel anymore. Kissing down her belly, he breathed at her snatch, before taking in a deep whiff of her addictive scent.

“You’re so wet,” he grunted, giving her wetness a long, drawn-out lick. “So sweet.”

Pressing his lips forward, he gave her folds a few rubs, making out with her pussy as he drank the nectar that was dispensing from within.

“I could drink this all day,” he mumbled with muffled groans, “but that’s not what we need right now.”

Lifting his body, he lined up the tip of his hardness and rubbed it up and down, mixing his leaking devotion with her craving wetness. He pushed in slowly, revelling in the parting of her folds, watching her eyes flutter and close in pleasure as he split her apart.

“I need you, Minju,” he declared, pressing his length further into her core. He felt her walls ripple and quiver around him, moulding into a sheath that was perfect for the shape of his cock. “And you need this. You need me.”

Minju hugged him close and nodded with desperation, feeling how he stretched her raw.

“Yes, only you. Always you.”

Once he was fully embedded in her, he leaned down to give her a deep, torrid kiss. At the same time, he lifted his hips and drew out his cock, feeling how her pussy squeezed and pulled, refusing to let him go.

But he forced it out.

Slam.

He plunged back in.

Minju yelped in pleasure, biting softly on to his lips, drawing out a drop of blood that she tasted with fervour. She felt his hard tip smash into her deepest spots, feeling the impact shock joy out into her bloodstream.

He pulled out again.

“More—”

Slam.

And more he delivered.

He pulled and pushed, withdrew and enter, unsheathed and sheathed.

He fucked her hard. He fucked her with ferocity. He fucked her with desperation.

He fucked her.

She took his cock. She took his pounding. She took his hammering.

She took him.

Each plunge into her depths made her cry out in euphoria, and each slide into her walls sent her towards nirvana. The bed was shaking as if an earthquake of unimaginable magnitude was tremoring throughout the plates of the world, but it was incomparable to the brewing disaster welling up in both her mind and core.

She was close.

Each pump of his cock into her wanton pussy sent her hurtling towards the edge. The edge which made her eyes roll and flipped her world upside-down. The edge which she wished would never disappear. The edge which she wanted to savour for the rest of her life.

“Minju.”

Her eyes flicked into focus as she answered his call.

“Minju.”

Her mouth parted and her throat dried.

“Minju.”

Her body trembled and shook, toes curling into unloosened arcs.

“Minju. Minju. Minju.”

He pumped into her with increasing intensity, pounding his fucks into her like his life depended on it. He watched her soul phase in and out of Styx, each easing pull making her faint, each crushing strike jolting her from unconsciousness.

She was close.

“Come for me, Minju.”

Right at that moment, she shattered on his command. She squealed and writhed as he continued pumping into her throughout her orgasm, her wetness exploding out to coat his length in warm tidal waves. Squelches filled the room and sex rivers soaked into the sheets as her orgasm waned, but he did not stop pumping.

Her eyelids were barely open, half-lidded from the pleasure that had swallowed her whole, but she could not faint, not before he filled her full. She cupped his face with both her hands and looked into his eyes, imprinting the look of his unending love and looming sadness that was drawn all over his face.

“Come for me, Trevor.”

He grunted and groaned and roared and moaned, unleashing waves after waves of come, filling her pussy with whiteness. She wrung the seed out of him, devouring it all with voracious hunger, making sure to not let a single drop go to waste.

After what seemed like eternity, he collapsed on the bed beside her and looked at the ceiling above, muttering softly.

“Please don't die.”

❄️ ❄️ ❄️

He was dead.

The tombstone carved with the words of solemnity.

The best colleague. The loveliest husband. The kindest father.

Minju stood up and set the white lily on the grave. She looked at the snow that covered the stone slab, watching the falling powder of chill that was sprinkling all over her flower. Soon it will be buried underneath all the other countless white lilies, yellow chrysanthemums and pale pink roses.

Just like how life that had ended was buried by brown snow.

She walked out of the graveyard with swollen eyes, trembling hands that were streaked with tears and snot. She shuffled through snow that reached half of her shin, wading through the white, powdered river that was filled by the punishing winter cold.

She opened the door to her house.

The warmer was already turned on and the soft glow of light from within offered her some solace from the pale white dusk outside.

She took off her boots and chucked them to the side to let the snow melt and dry, before settling into the warm, pillowy couch with her legs curled and tucked into her chest.

She stared at the ticking clock on the coffee table, watching time pass as if it were an infinite resource, except that it wasn't.

Infinite in relation to everything else unaffected by time, finite in relation to everything affected by time.

Life.

“Hey.”

A soft voice came from behind her.

She turned and looked at him, her sadness slightly fading into a soft, lethargic smile.

“Crestet,” she muttered, watching him settling into couch beside her.

“How are you feeling?”

She drew in a deep breath and leaned on his shoulder.

“It's ironic isn't it? He was such a good man. Friendly, doting, loving… he didn't deserve to die so young.”

Crestet hummed in approval and took her hand, rubbing the her palm with his calloused fingers.

“I was just thinking, life is such a fleeting thing. One moment you're working your hardest, trying your best to live life to the fullest, doing everything you can to make life better. The next? You could be struck by lightning. Killed in a car accident. Maybe choke on a fishball and die. Or like him, chosen to meet Death himself with a heart attack as the invitation.”

Crestet listened intently, absorbing all the sadness and frustration that Minju spewed.

She talked about her friend's life, how he had been closely supporting him from when they were childhood friends, how he had gave her both anger and happiness as a wonderful companion when they were playing at the woods, when they were mugging books for exams, when they were drinking their frustrations out from the overbearing boss.

Then she stopped.

She looked at her fingers.

“You know, I dream a lot.”

“I dreamt of a man named Theo who brought me lunch everyday despite being just a sous chef.”

“I dreamt of a man named Caelan who made ice cream popsicles together with me.”

“I dreamt of receiving love from Trevor who gave me his all despite me leaving for war.”

“I dreamt of Gary who shook and carried me out of a bar when I was drunk, tucking me safely into my bed even though I vomited all over him.”

“I dreamt of Marx who shielded me from the torrential rain with his only raincoat which got him drenched and subsequently sick with a high fever.”

Minju played with her hand, fiddling with the imaginary pen that was nested between the gaps of her fingers.

“I dreamt of many things. But everytime I try to remember his face, nothing comes up.”

She took a deep breath.

“Every dream ends right before I remember his face.”

She turned and looked at him.

“Every single one of them made me feel the way you made me feel.”

“I’m confused. I’m lost. I don't know what's going on with me.”

Minju started to cry.

“Are you angry?”

Crestet stared into her eyes and simply smiled at her.

“Were you happy in those dreams?”

Minju nodded.

“Are you happy right now?”

Her lips wavered at the question, but an answer came out immediately.

“Yes.”

The man leaned in and kissed her forehead.

Asa lowers her shoulders just a little, but it does so much more than a subtle movement should ever have the power to do. Now isn’t that the understatement that underpins it all. Fine details and mildly-reserved seduction cooked into the drop of a shoulder, the hike of a leg, the tilt of her hips. It’s Asa’s modus operandi, and you’re her favourite victim.

“Not like you ever cook.”

Avoiding the questions. Gaslighting. This woman has a game to play, and you’re part of it. If you were ever unwilling, you would be dragged, kicking and screaming, into it.

You are never unwilling.

"I baked you a cake."

"Yeah, well, I'm a little distracted here."

"What's distracting you?"

"Oh I don't know... Maybe my girlfriend? Up on the counter? Ass in the air and back arched, wearing some little black leather shorts?"

"Just eat the damn cake."

"I'm thinking about it."

"Yeah?" Asa shoots you a sly smile, biting on one of those long black nails in a way that communicates an opening into a mind you're all too familiar with. Devilish looks with a sinful mind - there's always something in there. "Well, I know you're a messy eater; hope you plan on cleaning up once you're finished. There's a lot of cream filling inside."

Yep, that’s something, alright.

She's doing that thing again - tugging on the little invisible string around your heart, forcing it to thump faster. You swallow thickly. You're walking closer, focusing on her lips as she speaks again.

"And, well, it is your birthday..."

Your birthday. You're too distracted by the fact she's pressing her chest to the counter, deepening the arch of her back even further and lying her face against the smooth surface. Her cute cheek squashed against the marble, dark eyelashes fluttering upwards as she looks at you through them. The way she's wiggling her hips slightly, back and forth, in those tight shorts...

"My birthday," you echo her words.

She's sliding her hand over her thigh now, fingertips pressing into the pale skin. She grips, and she squeezes and fuck -

"Mhm," she's smiling, "so you're allowed to have your...cake. Indulge a little. Eat it up."

Those catty eyes are trained on you as she presses her hand further down. You're standing at the counter now, chest heavy and struggling with each breath. A figurative growl from somewhere deep inside you as you catch her wrist, pulling it away from where it's getting dangerously close to her crotch.

"Let me." You tell her, taking in yet another shaky breath. "Let me...enjoy it how I want to."

Her eyes widen with excitement as she pushes her hips back and, fuck, that’s too hot. "That's the spirit, birthday boy. Do what you want."

"You're really the best girlfriend," you begin to tug the shorts from her hips, watching her skin rise with goosebumps as your fingertips brush over her - subtle things. "You know that?"

"Yeah, well." Asa bites her lower lip for a moment before letting it slip free. "I love spoiling you."

You pull the tight fabric over her ass and the soft flesh spills out, plump and fucking perfect.

"Your ass..." You can't help it. You have to grip it. You drag your fingertips across her skin. It's so perfectly smooth and inviting and...

Her throat rumbles with a laugh. "You act like you've never seen it before."

You dive in without thinking, lips immediately pressing to the skin, teeth grazing, tongue sneaking out to get a taste. Her little whimper makes you want more.

"I like it." You tell her against her flesh. You pepper kisses down to her thighs before pulling back. "Every time is like the first time."

"Cringe," she mocks.

"Hey, it's my birthday, remember? You can't be mean to me."

She lifts a brow. You duck your head down again, allowing your teeth to dig into the skin. Her breath hitches. You smile against her, pulling back, watching the way the spot turns a delicate pink colour. You take your time, letting your hands wander her ass, watching the way her flesh reacts. You slide your palm down her thigh, and she rolls her hips, trying to chase the touch.

"Please..." Asa's breathless, her voice filled with want, "just... eat the cake already." Her tone is playful, but there is something about the edge that makes you think she's really trying to hold back. That she wants you more than she's letting on.

"It looks so pretty." Your fingers move, sliding over her bare pussy, just peeking through the gap at the top of her thighs. You prod your fingertips inside, finding her wet already. Of course she is. Then there's the moan.

Asa's moans - you could wax lyrical about them. You could write sonnets and songs and poetry about them. You want to record them sometimes, just so you can listen back whenever you want, but then you remember just how easy it is to elicit new ones. There's always something so playful about them, even when they're low and gravelly. It's like she's laughing a little as she moans, like she's having so much damn fun.

You place a hand on each cheek. Your birthday cake, in all its glory, is laid out on the counter for you. You lean in, dragging your tongue up from her slit and resting your face between those pert little cheeks.

Fuck, she's sweet - sweeter than the cake you're ignoring, and she smells so good. Her whole body just has this way of making you want to bury your face into any part of her that you can and just melt away into her.

You're tasting her sinful little hole, ass pressed back against your face, and her moans are growing louder. You're swirling your tongue against her. Her fingers grip at the edge of the counter, and she's pushing back more and more.

Eating her ass is one of your favourite things in the world. In part because of her reaction, which is always perfect, and partly because of her taste. The way she wriggles and tries to control it and can't help but just give in to the pleasure of it all. You're rock hard already, and your cock is pressing against your pants.

You pull back, taking a moment to grip her cheeks and watch them spread, spitting on her hole, watching the way her body shivers. You press your thumb to it, and it succumbs to the pressure, swallowing it whole.

Her moans are endless, and she's trying to roll her hips, to fuck back against your finger. You work your thumb inside, and she reacts in all those dirty little ways you can never forget. Her whole body is shivering, and it's honestly the hottest thing you've ever seen in your life (and Asa has given you a whole catalogue to choose from).

"Oh my god," her voice is strained, "please, just... My ass... Oh..."

You have to bite back your laugh, simply because you can't help but find her so endearing. Her cheeks are flushed, and you know if you could see her face it would be bright red. Her hair is damp at the temples with sweat. You move your thumb in and out of her slowly.

"Please what, babe?" You ask.

She's burying her face into the marble; it’s a ridiculous thing to try, but this girl is so used to being face down in the bed that muscle memory kicks in when the brain goes to mush. "Don't make me say it."

You use your free hand to smack her ass, just once. She whimpers. "Say it."

"No!" She huffs. There's a moment of silence where you keep fucking her with your thumb. You hear her suck her teeth. Finally, she relents. "Eat my ass and make me cum. Please."

You let out a knowing laugh. "Good girl."

You're not sure what you enjoy more: making her cum or making her beg. You lean in again - another taste. Her back arches beautifully. Your cock is aching. You work your mouth against her over and over.

You press your middle finger against her cunt, sliding it inside with no resistance. She's gripping it as her wetness leaks down your hand. The moans are getting out of control, her body shuddering and jerking. You feel her tighten around your finger.

"Already?" you ask, and she does not like that.

Asa pushes her face up and off the counter, her whole body trembling. "You're just... fucking good."

That makes you grin. You press your finger deeper, curling it in her, and she's practically screeching now, and despite the description, it’s a blessing to hear. You keep your mouth buried against her asshole, fucking her with your finger, picking up speed. Your cock is straining in your pants, your balls aching. You can't wait to slide your dick into her, which is utterly relatable.

"Oh my god," she's panting hard, her fingers straining where she grips the counter, "oh my god, oh my god... Yes, right there, right fucking there! Don't stop, don't stop..."

It's when she starts cumming that you start lapping up all the cream, sucking her into your mouth. Her pussy is pulsing around your finger. You hear her hit the counter with a dull thud, and it's followed by her hitting her open palm against it repeatedly.

"So good," her voice is a breathy whine, "so, so good."

You keep moving your finger inside her until the fluttering stops, her whole body relaxing into the counter. You pull back and look at the mess you've made. A sheen of sweat on her skin. Her cheeks red from the way you've so roughly spread them.

"Happy birthday to me," you say, as you unbutton your pants.

There's a little chuckle from Asa. She turns her head, her eyes slightly glazed. "That good, huh?"

"You have no idea," you take your cock out, sighing with relief, "can't wait to sink into you."

She's smiling. "My favourite part."

"So, what exactly is this?" It's a valid question from Yuri, you weren't entirely transparent about your intentions. Yena said she was prototyping her guitar, that it was 'electrifying' and 'mindblowingly orgasmic'

So Yuri, fairly or unfairly assumed that was about music.

Technically, she's not wrong.

However, in practice. Yena is synced up to a device that can only be described as a bondage lover's wet dream. Wire's everywhere, some coiled to her thighs, some dangling off her chest. A lot pooling to almost make a tailor-made dress.

"It's one of our new inventions." Yena remarks casually, like there's not a dildo that can self-thrust next to both her pussy and her tight ass. Like there's no vibrating clamps that gently hug her nipples. You have the guitar in your hands, though you'll definitely pass it to Yuri in a little while. Need an unbiased tester, make sure it works fine.

"Last time you told me about your inventions you were making fuel-powered bouncy balls. What even happened?"

"We wanted to pay bills, this is our latest idea." You interject. "It works about as simply as you can expect. Each of these four buttons resonate with another. You play any song you know and see how the woman reacts."

"Show her practically, come on." Yena sighs, you are down. You click the first button, the clamp on her left nipple starts to vibrate, squeeze slightly– gets a short gasp out of Yena. Same for the second just for the right side.

The third one is more interesting, you only do short presses first– make sure to not overwhelm. The toy pushes deeper into her pussy, sits inside until you make it move. This is designed to be easy to use, hard to master. Replayability that can get even the most diehard of rhythm players to get invested.

It's a very specific niche your targeting, rhythm players good enough to do well that also have a partner. Eh, it'll reflect in the mark up.

"Come around." You point, Yuri follows and looks at Yena from behind. You click the last button and it pushes deep inside Yena's asshole, you push it a bit further. Then she stands there filled to the brim.

"Right, I still don't know why you needed me to be here? Me and Yena are close, don't get me wrong. But this is–"

"Oh shut up, before I met him you had your tongue in me every other night. We are definitely that close." Yena cuts through Yuri's lies, she's red as a tomato and doesn't say anything more.

"We need an unbiased participant who doesn't know it inside and out, you are that person." It's a simple exchange, you'll buy her a nice meal for this.

"Okay, sure, fine. Show me it." You've already started, but there's a few other cool features you can't wait to show in more detail. Then, your television screen turns on. (thanks to a hidden button in the frame, otherwise it'd ruin the IMMERSION!)

"We've made it so this guitar can work on all forms of rhythm software. We'll use Fortnite Festival for this because we have it installed." You swap to a song, you need to pick one that's not too hard, not too easy. A perfect highlight, you pick a 7/7 on bass. Should be easy enough.

Here goes nothing.

The music starts to play, though what song is hardly relevant. What matters is Yena braces herself for the first set of notes, though no matter how hard she braces. It still catches her off guard, hitting all four notes at once. Multiple times, the two dildos fucking her holes as her nipples get tormented.

"Ah, fuck!" Yena's caught caught in pleasure, Yuri's blushing. Her friend's got 14 inches (divided by two obviously) inside her and they are drilling her while the person causing it is just strumming a few cords. That's normally a metaphor, but these two inventors be doing stuff differently apparently.

"As you can see, it's quite intense." You lull, hitting your keys to the beat of the music. You can hear the slick noises of her pussy getting thoroughly fucked cutting through the rest of the noise.

"Y-yeah, I–" Yuri is rubbing her legs together, looking up towards the sky as if focusing on Yena is going to make her lose her mind. Her body's sweating under pressure, hands gripping her thighs to avoid them going anywhere else. "It's something."

"Ngh, fuck! Yuri, touch yourself for me– please!" That came out of nowhere, the machine must be have sparkled something. "I don't care he's watching, come on! Please–"

"What?!"

"You don't have to–" You start, your voice trails off because a particularly hard section comes up. Forcing your entire attention, it reflects in Yena's moans. Hits a crescendo that lasts for a solid half-minute.

"Ignore him, do it, let me see your pretty pussy again! It's been so–long!"

Yuri's between a rock and soft place, this wasn't in your initial testing plans but errant data should probably be considered. In the event they got a three player rotation, someone touching themselves is standard, expected.

You just never designed this for three people.

Fool's mistake and in this case, you're the fool. Yena's on cloud fuck knows and therefore doesn't have time to worry about all that. But back to Yuri's ultimatum, surely with the way she shouted what she'd be thinking about it still ri–

Oh, she's wearing less clothes than before.

Hm, oh well.

The problem with your technology you are realising now is you can not focus on your test-partner being so overwhelmingly aroused that her arousal is being launched into the floor. Nor can you focus on her situationship best friend heeding her commands. Hastefully kicking herself out of her shorts and underwear simply and efficiently. Put blandly, your peripherals are doing quadruple overtime.

A few more seconds, the song will be over. But this is the most ridiculous section for Yena, a bunch of hold notes. When the buttons are held the machines work at peak efficiency, fucking the soul out of her. "Oh my, my, fuck– yes, fuck!" Her orgasm hits right at the finish of song, and it's explosive. Spurts of squirt painting a new pattern in your favourite towel.

You play an imaginary song, fuck her insane ass (You'd know, it hugs you like the warmest kindling of affection.) with chords to ride her through it. Then perhaps the most annoying thing happens.

Your frame snaps, the thing keeping Yena from falling over ages ago breaks in two and unsurprisingly she slips. Right between Yuri's legs, face first into her box tongue first. Yuri is quite to take advantage of such a perfectly shown moment of chance, grinds her slit against Yena's pretty face. She quickly sticks her tongue out, devouring her friend while you stand there and savour such a moment.

"Yena! Eating me out so, god, damn well!" The machine is still mostly plugged into Yena, so you do Yuri a favour. Pushing a few buttons that make the girl moan straight into her– resonating within her core. "Don't stop!"

Muffled moans fill the room as you continue to pleasure Yena, pumping the machine's dildo in and out much slower now. Just a consistent rhythm enough to mess with her brain, overwhelming without shutting her down. You need the data. Whatever is salvageable out of this. You stand there bricked up like a virgins first time seeing tits, rubbing yourself through your clothes.

Yuri's moans are ridiculous, hits the walls and bounces back twice as fucking loud. Then you think, you need more data… someone who hasn't been responsible in the design process. "Yuri, say– would you like a turn?"

She looks shocked, but Yena pulls herself away to breathe. "Yeah, you trust my creation right?" No, she definitely didn't. It snapped in front of you. "I'll hold you up."

"Okay, I trust you, for once." Yuri's words brought you two great joy, helping Yena out of the machine and slowly putting Yuri in. Lubing up her tight rim, giving it a finger while Yena gave it two. Working together to make sure she could handle this, proper procedure. (proper bla bla you get the idea by now surely.)

Couple minutes later and it's all set up, Yena holding Yuri up by the armpits to ensure she doesn't replicate her fall over incident. "Ready?"

"I guess?" Yuri is not nearly as assured as Yena was, after seeing the mess that was just made and getting herself ate out though she is far too horny to think logically about this. You pick a song that honestly you just like, Fantasia For The Witch's Hound.

"Don't let her go, I don't know how concussions and orgasms mix." You warn, however Yena is gripping onto her harder than she grips around you so it'll be all gucci. " Here goes nothing.

You start, and this song is absolutely nothing compared to the last one– difficulty erect and ready to go right off the get go. Triple click every note in rapid motion, she's already had her warm up. Shaking and struggling in Yena's grasp, who is doing her divine duty as best she can. Going above and beyond as well– kissing Yuri's neck like it's a fine treasure, letting her teeth scratch against the soft skin.

"Ngh, Yena! This is so over–" It's hard to articulate the beauty of the situation, maybe you've struck gold with this. Market it as a swinger's party device, make millions. While your salivating over potential profit (pp for short) Yuri is salivating at the pressure, crotches stained with both of their arousal intermingled as one slick layer.

"Overkill? Overwhelming? Overtastic?" Yena breaks the rules further, rubbing her clit feverishly, giving Yuri the time of her life. "Take my cocks, fucking you– like old times sake. Cum all around them!" You are the voyeur to time long past and only now you get an idea.

What if you just, stood to the left? So they are directly in your line of sight? Incredible.

"Okay!" Yuri takes Yena like the good girl she clearly is. "So, fucking full!" You stop playing the song, hold down every button to overwhelm the girl. She loses control, taking no time at all to reach orgasm. Gushing so hard it saturates your machine in shiny girlcum.

Yuri gets gently removed from the contraption, you'll clean it later. The second you put the guitar down Yena has a lustful gaze, eyes looking very hungry. "You haven't came."

"Well yeah, the prototype isn’t suited for penises currently–"

From the bedroom, the girl, Eunchae, storms out, head in hands, her steps quick but aimless. On closer inspection, her simple oversized tee is the same shade of purity that’s plastered all over the walls, her hair in a smooth, wavy curtain like she just got it done. 

Behind her, you trail, near lazy, like you’re used to the words, simple black joggers and simple black shirt, clean as the rest of her, as the rest of the house.

“Get the fuck back here.”

“Fuck you!”

“Hey!”

Bang.

“It’s always this shit with you! All the time. It never fucking ends, never fixes itself like it’s supposed to-”

“And you think that this is all on me?”

“Some part of it is you, at least admit that, you fucking prick.”

Bang. Bang.

“I’m sick of your shit, Eunchae.” 

“Yeah? Are you? You’re going to fuck off now, are you? Call it quits for real?”

You click your tongue. You try to steady your breathing. Stay calm. Stay calm. Her words are blunt. Blunt and rude, blunt because they aren’t sharp. That’s what you’ve been reminding yourself every day, right? 

“Let’s stop dodging the issue here.”

Eunchae spins to face you, her face frosty, her cheeks flushed. She looks almost drunk.

“And again with that. Don’t you feel repetitive, always flipping things back on me with that shit? What are you, a robot? Recorder? Metronome?” 

“Stop trying to get a rise out of me! This is pointless!” 

“Is it? Everything that doesn’t help you get your way is pointless? We’re only allowed to follow the plot you’ve made for us, is that it?” 

“No!” You say, finding this whole thing ridiculous, “The fuck? All you have to do is listen to reason! Where is this taking us? Back to the same old shit we’ve always been doing.”

Eunchae’s mouth opens like she’s choking back a laugh, struggling from spitting it right into your face. 

“News flash, dipshit,” Eunchae shakes, “everything we’re doing right now is a repeat. Like a stupid fucking sitcom. And you’re the fucking star, assface!”

You roar. “Don’t yell at me!”

The house echoes your ferocity- literally. When the two of you were shallower, in earlier days, she’d take an unconscious step back, an instinct upon your voice reaching this decibel. But now? Her hide’s grown thicker, which means all she does is raise an eyebrow in that particularly annoying way, the one that gets under your skin. Her lips flat. She looks like she’s about to kick you in the balls. And fuck it, the ethics. You wanna throw hands. 

You swear, the amount of effort required to prevent you from going full on ballistic has popped several veins in your skull. You know how it looks, played this little finicky game before, with the bloody mirror in view as well. 

You redden, purple up, and it takes a hot second before the natural complexion of your face returns. And, pathetically, it’s only then you note your balled fists. You hate it. You don’t like this look, a sentiment shared by your partner. Anger doesn’t get you anywhere.

You drop your tone. Drop everything. She’s just another person. She can’t touch you. All she’s saying are meaningless words. You’re better than this. Than her.

Your next words are sanitised, hands slipped back in your pockets like you don’t give a damn. “We need to start talking like normal human beings.”

Eunchae’s tone follows yours, no longer shrill screech. “And how’s that been working for you? Do the results look satisfactory?”

Her eyes cast to the room around you, like she’s coaxing you to take a look at everything yourself.

Hell, she makes things so difficult.

“We at least get somewhere when we aren’t screaming bloody murder.”

Her reply is scathingly quick. Like repeats turned ad hominem.

“There’s no need to stabilise your driving when you’re on a roundabout with no exit,” Eunchae bites. “Like you always like to say, pointless.”

You snap. “God, fuck. Eunchae, please. For fucks sake! Fucking please!”

Lord knows you’re fucking trying, hands in your hair, wincing and all. Eunchae turns her head to the side, like she’s ignoring you. The truth is, she doesn’t want to let it get to her. You power on, because there’s gotta be goddamn light at the end of this goddamn tunnel.

“We need to settle this issue. And we do that with talking. Not with this… infighting.”

“We need to settle this issue… again.”

You take a breath. “Yes. Again.”

Eunchae levels her eyes on yours. Her arms are crossed, not because she’s angry, but because it’s protective. Protective of all the skin of her arms she has pinched between fingers. “Fine. I’ll make my argument simple. There is no solving this. We’re just wasting our breath.”

“So we should just let this fucking horseshit continue?”

This time Eunchae makes a sound of annoyance. She shifts her weight to her other foot.

“Why do you like that word so much, anyway?”

“Huh?” You furrow your brow, “What? The word ‘fuck’? It’s just a word.”

“Just a word. That’s all that’s ever meant to you, hasn’t it? Just a word. And anyone that doesn’t subscribe to that notion is stupid trash.”

You have no idea what she’s getting at. You’ve been using that word since forever. She uses that word. But you don’t snort. You resist the urge to make any sound that suggests belittlement, any words to betray how it’s raining down upon you. Control. Control.

“Fine. I won’t use that word. Remove the profanity. Whatever. Happy?”

“Really?” Eunchae replies, “What a surprise. Should I be honoured?”

“What is your problem?” Everything that comes out of her mouth seems poised to spite you. Unnecessarily so.

“My problem, dipshit, is your stupid need to level everything to your playing field. It’s absurd. Injust. You’re in control, always.”

“Always? I’m puppeteering your life, am I?”

“You may as well be,” Eunchae says matter-of-factly, “We play by your rules, don’t we? We stop the yelling, talk things out, communicate like we’re in a debate club. Somewhere where you can use your stupid, verbose bullshit to outweasel yourself from being in the wrong.”

You stare. “Are you serious? You think conversing like normal human beings, respectfully and peacefully, is a shit way to resolve our arguments? Even when we descend into playground insults and verbal fuc… warfare? Is this not a logical solution?”

“So nothing else matters, does it? Just the right way to do things? The cold hard facts?”

What is she talking about? “What are you talking about?”

Eunchae scoffs, not even bothering to hide it. The pad of her thumb rubs at her eyes, and it stings, but you’ve gotten used to it. Because this happens every time. And you’re not sure when this bled into normalcy.

“Forget it.”

“What?”

She doesn’t reply. Her lower lip shakes. Your hands are in the space, grasping for something, whole body shaking and shuddering with all the effort you’re putting in to just reach.

“Eunchae, talk to me. What’s all this? What are you on about? We can’t even communicate right now.”

“Of course we can’t!” Eunchae screams, and you can’t even fake your surprise, eyes widening, caught in a moment where nothing makes any logical sense-

“You’re not listening! You never do!”

“Huh?” You say, flabbergasted. Preposterous. You’ve done nothing but try to listen.

“I don’t care anymore. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Your house?” Your voice rises. Shit. Tone it down. “We bought this place together. Even split. Fifty-fifty.”

Your resist the urge to add, the fuck you mean your house?

“Then draw a line! I’ll stay behind my fifty percent. Just leave me the fuck alone!”

“Eunchae,” you slap a hand to your forehead, “You’re going to run from this? Again?”

“I don’t care! You win! I give up, give in. Whatever you’re going to say, you’re right!”

“Eunchae!” You shout. Fuck it. You need to get her to listen somehow. She’s not receptive to anything right now. You’ll apologise later.

Probably.

“Work with me here! I’m trying my best to talk to you. We can’t keep running away from our problems. They don’t just magically disappear.”

“Don’t they?” Eunchae retorts. She’s forsaken the urge to rub her tears away, to give a crap about the trails down her face and falling off her chin. “Isn’t that how it always goes? We talk, we agree on something. You dictate what I say. Sure. Happy for a couple of days. Otherwise, we take a break. A week where we start over from zero. We kiss, have awesome make up sex, and everything’s forgotten, isn’t it? Pause, incident, pause?”

You don’t retort. You can’t. It’s true, regardless of how wrong it is. That’s how it is. That’s how it always has been. Putting it brutally, the two of you discard each other when shit hits the fan. The attraction is fleeting. Intermittent. Hell. Like… disease.

It takes a moment for you to realise Eunchae’s already stalked away, moving past you. She defeats you, in that moment. You’re still staring at the same spot, because you’re not sure you believe what’s happening right now.

“So we’re just going to let this go?”

“Just tell me what you want from me and I’ll do it,” Eunchae mutters, her voice soft, lost.

This isn’t victory. Not for you, not really. This is a resignation. There was no fight here. There’s no cause for celebration. All Eunchae did was just roll onto her back and tell you to get on with it.

You walk out. Grab the keys, slip into slippers. Anywhere. Anywhere but here. Clear your head, get some space, whatever. You have no idea what to do. Whether to move forward, or to hang back.

Eunchae sits by the dining table, motionless. She’s another piece of the furniture. Pure, clean. Whatever to distract from what this all is. Does it make sense? Pfft, no. Of course not. Does it hurt?

Eunchae hangs her head in her hands and cries.

____

In another instance, maybe, just maybe, things play out differently.

If the rules of the world weren’t written this way. If everyone said, hey, okay, do your thing. It’s your little corner of the world, I won’t intrude. A world free from judgement maybe. Maybe.

It’s like this, see. You try to play things properly, really. You put all the extra little thoughts in. Maybe too many at times. You act, no, play, no, am the perfect boyfriend, to the best of your abilities. On judgement day, you should at the very minimum be tilted to the correct side, wholly because of your own actions.

Things are happy at the beginning, romantic. You wipe the ice cream off her lips. She giggles. The Han river. Noodles and fried chicken. Spicy bokkeumbap. Yeah, things like that.

For a good while, a very good while, you’re happy. Content. She’s support in your fragile little world, and things are great. The two of you push deeper, wading into the marsh, not looking back. Hell, not even looking forward. Looking at each other.

And that’s the moment. Right there. Pause the video. Zoom in. Right fucking there. Take out your notebook.

See, at first you think it’s a joke. Horror stories concocted by your mother told to her friends whenever they come over for dinner and girls’ night. About how cohabitation is a test. A real make or break. About how getting closer means getting further apart. And other nonsensical horseshit.

Taking a step forward, but forward’s the wrong direction. Like bringing this person in means the end for everything else. And look, you’re smarter than this. Smart enough to know not to fuck this up. And to know how not to either.

But the house is a warzone. One that deceives you at first. You enter, weapons lowered, taking in the scenery. Oh, those are some nice flowers. Put them by the side. Look at the paths! They sparkle.

And then you realise the whole fucking place is laced with land mines. Kablooey.

And hell, why do things keep escalating? You’re not on an escalator, you’re not playing a roguelike videogame. What’s this, Tetris? Putting the blocks and pieces into place speedily without fucking up the arrangement?

The first time was bad, sure. Eunchae’s tired of always having to bring your clothes to the laundry room, always having to make the bed in the morning. She just wants things to be neater, nicer.

So you explain how it seems ridiculous to you that she believes a laundry trip is mandatory once a day, considering that two people times two outfits is at most fourteen articles of clothing, a day. Which doesn’t even fill up the machine you bought halfway.

She calls it unhygienic. You call it uneconomical. 

It gets heated. Stupidly so. It’s the first time you find yourself genuinely angry with her, and you don’t know why. She cries, and it’s the first time that she’s ever done that in front of you. So you panic. 

Fine, you give in. Compromise. You’ll even dump the clothes in the washer for her. 

That pisses her off. Because she doesn’t want to just win. It’s never been about the victory in battle for either of you. It’s about the war. She needs to make you understand. And agree that she’s right.

But it doesn’t make sense.

Over time, things change. It’s less emotional turmoil and more brokering, a painful game of sorts. But instead of decapitated heads rolling it’s simply layers unraveling in front of you like unbundled canvas. And the picture it paints, not pretty.

You make deals. Bargain your way to allow you to drag her to your side. Barter trade.

Bring your weapons to the table: Cold hard logic against metaphysical morality. Raise them up and fight.

And after, the two of you have peace. Come back together. Like Frankenstein; your bodies meld. Heat, passion, till your eyes roll back into your skulls. It feels better that way, raw and unprotected, vulnerable after so many hits.

Then your hearts. Stitched together. Smiles. What were we even arguing about? It feels so stupid now. Love blooms, because love is like most flowers. Seasonal.

And the two of you let the festering problem reach further, hold tighter.

——

Your feet are light on the pavement. Coffee. Need coffee. Starbucks will do. A roadside coffee shop will do. Anything will do.

Clangle. Past the Christmas decoration, past the little lights.

The barista is sweet, serene, adorned with an elf hat. She’s pleasant, taking your order with a gentle smile and a clear lack of care for anything in her immediate surroundings.

So coffee takes a while. And she kind of puts too much sugar in it. But whatever. That won’t be enough to ruin your day.

Sweet is the season. Your right hand, clasped around the bag, the bag containing the artificial softness you didn’t really bother to wrap up. Whatever. She’s going to love it.

You shift in your brown wool jacket. No time to waste. 

She’s already got everything set up, of course. The treats, the tree, the candles. She’s got a Santa hat on, a Santa-red dress. Her face lights up when you toss your bag over like you’re going to bludgeon her and bash her head into a pulp.

“Hey babe!” She laughs, hands sinking into the softness of the puffy toy through its protective plastic layer.

“Eun-ah, you’ve done so much. It looks so good!”

You reach over to try to kiss her, but the sheer size of the soft toy provides some resistance. The two of you laugh, but meet anyway, your mouth over hers, dominating the kiss.

“Cute dress,” you smirk.

“Thank you,” Eunchae gives a little bow, swaying from side to side.

“Can’t wait to peel it off.”

“Pervert!”

You laugh. 

“At least let me have dinner first! There’s always only one thing you want on your menu, isn’t there?”

“It’s the only food I need,” you reply, twirling your finger in the air like you’re summoning a spell. “I’m a repeat customer.”

“Well, you’re going to have to wait. Until after we get some actual food in both of our bellies.”

“Ever heard of the term, start with dessert?” You toss the pondering question over. Eunchae hits you with her Christmas gift.

“I told you. Wait. I have more in store for you. You haven’t even gotten to the best part yet!”

—-

Coffee. Coffee. How it clears the mind. Rids the fog, some would say.

You sip slowly. The drink has long gone cold by now, but you’ve been nursing it. Resisting. Taking as long as you possibly can.

Through the glass panel of the kitchen, where you can watch Eunchae. Watch as she moves quickly, rapidly. Ruthlessly efficient are her hands. She does her work. Fingers a blur. She does the laundry. Quick are her steps. Routine. Routine.

Your eyes watch her. Unmoving. A provocation. Seeing when she reacts. Your mind? Cycling a million possible retorts to cook her like a well done steak the moment she opens her mouth.

“Stop looking at me,” she says, obvious with her anger.

“You want me to leave?” You reply, as if one long walk wasn’t enough.

“Do whatever you like. But give me some privacy. Stop looking at me like I owe you rent. It’s unnerving.”

You take another sip. Mug’s empty. “What is?”

“You looking at me. I don’t like it. The more you look at me the closer you get. The more I have to deal with your bullshit. Go away.”

She stacks another one of her shirts on top of the pile, before grabbing the entire folded tower and hurrying off to the bedroom. Like she has anything else to do.

You wash the mug. Place it back on the drying rack the way you know she likes. Your cup kissing hers. You follow.

“So we’re really going to do this?” You say softly. All traces of irritation, anger are gone, replaced by a droning monotone disconnected from emotional appeal. She won’t get to you now, because you won’t allow it.

Eunchae ignores you. The clothes go back into the drawers. Neatly, neatly. Scented with detergent you both agreed to use to clean. Like a promise to blend.

“We’re just going to avoid this, again. For another week. Maybe two. Then we’ll remember to start talking.”

She just packs.

“You don’t give a shit about us.”

“And you’re saying you do?” Eunchae looks up at you defiantly from her kneeling position. She opens the next drawer, turning back not even a second later.

“Clearly, I do. I’m the only one actively trying to solve the issue here.”

“There’s no issue between us.”

“There is an issue.” you say pointedly. 

“No there isn’t. Not one either of us can solve, evidently.”

“Do you want things to improve?”

“In this snail race?”

“Eunchae.”

“What? Go do your thing. Your little distancing routine. Go out. Have a drink. Chat with your buddies. Pretend to check out that chick at the bar. And come back in a couple weeks when you want to fuck me again.”

You sigh. You’re not even irked at that. It’s all so… desensitised. You’re tired. “We have to at least try, babe.”

Eunchae tenses unnaturally. Was it the word? Or everything else? She stands up, making a means to move, but you’re in the doorway.

“Excuse me.”

You don’t budge.

“Excuse me, please.”

“Don’t run away from this.”

“It’s not about how fast I can fucking get away from you, mister. It’s about how quickly you’ll catch me.”

She’s moved up right into your personal space, fearless in a certain sense, but her eyes don’t meet yours. You’re a barrier, and nothing else. Her eyes are motioning to move past. And you feel it’s all grossly unfair.

Is there anything to say that could change the current predicament? Any way to reason yourself out of this one? One that anyone could understand?

Finally, after a few moments, when Eunchae realises you’ve gone still, she looks up. She’s not daunted by the proximity, not affected by the look in your eyes. 

Her eyes, still red like they’ve been rubbed raw. Her lips are slightly swollen, like you’ve been kissing her too much. She looks so much like something that needs protection. And you’re not impervious like you’ve been telling the world. Everything begs you to hold on.

“What, you want to fuck me already?”

You blink. “I thought you didn’t like that word?”

“Yeah, but you love it, don’t you? You love that word, and all the things that come with it. It’s all you want to do, all you want to hear, right? Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me!”

“Eunchae!” You say, scandalised. Like you’re scandalised.

“Isn’t that all you want? My body? That’s what keeps you running back, right? You only give a fuck about my body.”

You pop. Zero to a hundred. It’s not true. It’s a blatant lie. It’s everything to rouse you. And what she insinuates, you detest it.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you spit, “I do.”

You repeat the lie, because a part of you knows she hates this just as much as you do, all these naysayers with their opinions on what the two of you can be, will be, should be. Your hand seizes her wrist, bringing the two of you closer like you’re about to kiss her I love you.

“You’re right, Eunchae. That’s all I give a shit about. You. Your body. That’s what you want to hear me say, right? That you’re just a warm body I can use by my bed, a convenient way for me to drain my balls.”

Eunchae’s eyes darken. Magic, the way they manage to switch up like this. Like she wants to eviscerate you with a trebuchet. 

“Fuck you.”

You let her pass, because you can’t stand to look any longer. You shouldn’t let her go, but you feel like screaming at the walls.

You’re wrong. You mean so much more to me.

But they’ll never see that.

——

“Hey, what do you think is wrong with us?”

You glance over at Eunchae from your seat at the glass table. Her figure’s sprawled out on the couch, her head cast skyward like she’s stargazing through the ceiling.

“Wrong with us?”

If she nods, it’s imperceptible. But you heard right.

You turn to your hands, on the table, fingers outstretched and flat on the cool glass, back when they didn’t yet learn to curl into fists. The house smells like human petrichor, mixed in with that suffocating smell of sanitizer, of appearances.

“I think it’s about what’s wrong with me, isn’t it?”

Eunchae frowns. “No. I’m a part of it too. It takes two hands to clap.”

“Does it really though?” You reply, “Besides. I have two on my own.”

Eunchae glances down to look at you. From this angle, with her feet facing you and her body resting comfortably, she looks cute. Her chubby cheeks on her small face. A squishy look.

“A part of it is me. At the very least. We’re both guilty here. That’s why we keep crawling back to each other, unable to call it quits.”

“I mean, hasn’t this gone on for long enough? Why are we still torturing ourselves like this, like a pair of obnoxious siblings stuck under the same roof? Why can’t we just call it quits?”

“...I don’t know,” you say finally. And even if you did have the right answer, the one that solves all of this, would it matter? 

Fundamentally you know, there’s something wrong with all of this. There’s these things called rules, or whatever, lines drawn in the sand you’re supposed to abide by. Wards, fences, walls, signs all pointing in the opposite direction. Don’t do that. Don’t follow your heart. Not to her, young and pliable.

You slowly pick yourself up from the chair, and Eunchae watches closely as you cross over. She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t move a muscle. Her eyes just hold on to you, tracking your movements till you’re kneeled, on one knee, by her head.

Quiet. A moment for the two of you. Just the two of you. You watch her, and she watches you. Her gaze is pensive, pliant, waiting for your next move. 

You reach over to give her a kiss on the lips. One that you give all the time, but the kind she never gets tired of. When you pull away from her delicate softness, the hints of a smile grace her cheeks. You rub her head for a couple gentle moments. Hopeful ones.

And then you get up and start moving again, Eunchae watching you gently as you start busying yourself with life.

—

Eunchae never throws anything, in all her rage. Then again, neither do you.

In fact, the house is often so spotless, so incredibly untarnished, that simply by appearances the two of you seem to be living a perfect life. 

—

One more check. A whiff of your collar, a straightening of your cuffs. Things have still been in an uncomfortable flux, but just because the two of you currently hate each other doesn’t mean you’re going to miss out on important obligations. The tickets to her rehearsal are still there. You’re not going to just not go.

A quick glance in the mirror, which reveals that you look tired, tired from fighting and leaving and being hollow, from avoiding.

Combat between two urges, one that declares that things should be over, and the other that yields to the idea that you need her back by your side, that you miss her warmth.

Fight it out.

Eunchae took the car; You grab an umbrella just in case and start to make your way over, in your navy suit and brown oxfords. You look good, a guy that’s clearly out for a date, some attractive looking event, and you cycle through the million things you’re about to say.

And you think to yourself, the funny thing is this. Adjacent to Murphy’s law, nothing that anyone thinks will actually happen does happen. There’s always that additional layer, that extra hurdle life throws on the track that catches one off guard, that derails, that can’t be prepared for even with a million years of careful consideration.

So you choose to eliminate as many bad options as possible by trying to think of them first. Get rid of all the worst ways this night could go. Scrap the breakup story. Scrap the messed up performance. Scrap the why did you come? I didn’t want to see you here.

And ironically, try not to think of all the good endings. 

Her dress is red, for some reason. Like a Chinese ornament, or something. Hair done up, in a singular, smooth ponytail, a plume that rests gently behind her. And the thing is, she knows your seat, she gave you the damn tickets after all, so she knows immediately once the stage lights cast down on her that you’re here.

Her back straightens. She almost smiles. Almost. A quick bow and she turns to the keys, sitting with her feet tucked together.

She looks good. Nothing like the clipped seraphim she was every day of the past week. Her makeup conceals it all, brings out her eyes, always bright, spotlights in the dark.

She tests the keys, the same little pattern you’ve heard time and time again, at home, at her practices, at her performances. You close your eyes for a moment. You always prepare yourself mentally before her performances. She has her routine. And you have yours.

One. Two. Three.

Eunchae starts to play. The tune wafts in, gentle, romantic. She strikes each key with certainty, precision.

She eats it up right from the start. Her fingers, soft and slow at first, pressing gently when she knows the audience is focusing more on her than the tune. When the music overwhelms, when they start to give in to the message, they speed up, become a blur, tapping notes in succession.

The pieces she chose are good. They always are. And her skill goes without saying. The first song. A short break. A violinist comes on stage. And Eunchae accompanies his second piece.

Her eyes are mirthful. She doesn’t focus too hard on the notes, on the music sheet in front of her. Her fingers already have the song memorised. Her smile mirrors her playing, like she just forgets all about it and seeps into her notes. There’s not a tinge of sadness in her notes, like it never existed at all.

She doesn’t need to glance at you. She just needs to feel.

She gets one more piece. Brisk are her movements. A few people by your side, in the front row, take pictures.

You don’t know if you can live without her.

She comes down five minutes later than everyone else. And you’re not sure who needed to mentally prepare themselves more.

You stand in the first row, watching as all the other performers greet friends and family. All till a swish of red distracts you.

She walks purposefully, smiling and thanking as eyes fall on her. Her pace never falters. Swiftly, she reaches you. By your side.

Come on. You can’t even look slightly pissed if you tried. You smile, and she does as well, her chin dipping shyly.

“You-”

“Yeah. I came.”

Eunchae beams, her pearly whites showing for the first time in two weeks, and she turns away and does a little spin. The crowd parts naturally to give her room.

“How was it?”

“The performances? Great. The band was amazing.”

“But I was better?” Eunchae shifts her weight to her left foot, crossing her arms.

“You’d better be. Otherwise I’d be dating someone else right now.”

“Prick,” Eunchae shakes her head, “can’t you be nice and stop teasing for once?”

You chuckle. “You were amazing, babe. Gorgeous. As you always are. Everyone was transfixed.”

She glows. Everything feels better. No need for anymore words. The two of you communicate just like this. Her eyes glisten.

“Hey, none of that. You still need to receive all the praise and appreciation.”

Eunchae nods since she understands. She blinks a couple times, and they disappear. Later.

“I’m hungry. I’ll see you in a few minutes?”

“Go,” you nod. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

Eunchae nods, the little angel, turning and leaving like a flare shot away from a flare gun, leaving your life. Others watch her go, then watch you, watching her leave.

You get it. And damn. There’s so much more.

In the car, you’re a shaking wreck. Everything feels wrong. Everything feels foolish.

And that’s even before Eunchae knocks on the windscreen, telling you to let her in. The lock clicks, and she surges in, grabbing a hold of your neck and kissing you hard. 

Her lips meld to yours, mixing cherry lipstick with strawberry lips.

Your hands seized her shoulders, and each subsequent kiss deepens. It feels right, it feels good. Like she left, but dammit, she came back.

“Close the door,” you say between kisses, “the aircon is leaking out.”

She laughs, eyes wet, but does so anyway. She tucks herself neatly into the seat. And contact is broken. Just for a moment.

Because you’re pulling her in right after, again. And it’s a good while before the headlights of your car come on.

“I’m sorry,” Eunchae says first, the two of you on the highway. No, you don’t miss the details. Her hand clasped in yours. The other one fiddling with the hem of her dress, nervous like she’s been hurled back to her past, to your first date. The way she looks to the front because it hurts to look at you.

“We’re so stupid.”

“We’re not. Just… difficult.”

She laughs again. Weakly. Like she’s tired of it. Both of you are.

Your hand leaves hers for just a moment, so you can make a safe right turn onto the highway. And it comes back to rest on her thigh.

Her eyebrow perks up curiously, and you nonchalantly give her thin leg a squeeze. She shakes her head. She doesn’t even need to say it. 

“I’m just telling you, this dress is a bitch and a half to take off. It’ll take like, ten minutes. And a lot more space than the interior of a car.”

You do your best to look disappointed, like that’s really the first thing on your mind. “Later then. What do you want to eat?”

And it’s strange, because food feels almost secondary. And it feels like it’s because nothing makes sense. 

——

And look. The makeup sex is amazing.

Every time the two of you come back, it’s a couple days where the two of you can’t do anything else but tangle up in a mess of limbs and kisses.

It’s so good that in a messed up way it seems almost worth it to keep breaking apart, because returning feels consistent, probable.

The two of you stumble like drunken sailors all over the house, pulling and pushing each other around, gasping, moaning, groaning with round after round of mind boggling pleasure. That’s the only time things appear even a little messy. Her. You. Madness. Psychosis.

She becomes pliable, pudding, doing whatever you want and whatever you ask, loving it, making it feel like everything’s right with kisses down your cheek. A private moment for two, right?

“Let’s go out,” she says.

“When?”

—

“Get away from me!”

“No!” Eunchae screams. “You started this!”

You snort. “I started this? Me? When you literally just barged into the bedroom and screamed your head off?”

“You let it happen again! How did you let it happen again? What’s the point of saying things have changed, will change, if the same mistakes are going to happen again?”

“Things have been improving! I’ve been doing what you asked! Picking up the laundry. Cleaning the toilet. Waiting outside the office for an entire additional hour to pick you up! It’s been two months without incident. This was just a mistake. I was busy. It slipped my mind!”

“Of course! You were so busy you couldn’t remember to not let our house catch on fire? How do you nearly fuck up boiling water?”

“Just get one of those automatic ones that turn off by themselves! My boss dialed me with something important!”

“Made out of moneybags, are we?”

“Oh come on. It’s the simplest solution.”

“Well then, excuse me if I prefer using an item that’s not even spoiled rather than investing in a minor upgrade.”

“Then that’s your problem, isn’t it?”

“My problem? Yeah? Do I have to burn my fingers off the next time for you to get it?”

“The hell? That’s just being bitchy, Eunchae!”

“Fuck you! Can’t you not be such an unbelievable… pricklord?”

“…Okay, that’s just weak.”

“Fuck off! I should pour that kettle of hot water over your head!”

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe I am! God knows I’ve already lost my mind living here long enough. With you!”

“Yeah yeah, everything is me, isn’t it? I’m the problem here.”

“So you think you can pin everything on me instead?”

“That’s not what I said! I’m done with this.”

“Then leave! For good! Has no one grown a pair of balls in this house? I know I definitely haven’t, and the last time I checked, you’ve got enough for both of us! So be a man and move on from me!”

“So it’s on me to leave as well! You haven’t learnt to be an independent woman yet, is that it?”

“There is no independence here, under your charge.”

“Stop saying that!”

—

No, really. You should be the bigger man here. The actual man. The one you’re defined to be. Moving on is logical. This will pass, and so will she. Plenty of fish, in this sea.

—

You know what it looks like. This isn’t a Mexican standoff, poker table, an all-in gamble. There shouldn’t be this much trepidation on the fact that both of you are seated on opposite sides of the dining table for the first time in what feels like forever.

“The truth is we can’t understand each other.”

Eunchae doesn’t react for a moment, like the truth doesn’t faze her. Which makes sense. Because the words have always been written here. On the walls. 

“We don’t agree on things. We don’t see eye to eye. We even… think differently.”

“Your point being?” Eunchae says, and you’ve never felt the coldness in her low tone before, but you do now. “We don’t work. We don’t even have the same value system. What you think is right and what I think is right, they don’t align. It’s like being a shitty MBTI match. I’ve tried. You’ve tried. We do our best to carve a way out for both of us, but we never come out the other side. It’s starting to hurt the way I look at you. And I know it has affected the way you see me as well.”

“So I should go, then.”

“No,” you say immediately, like it hurts. “No. It’s just… it’s bad.”

“Get to the point.”

You look up into her eyes. Her tone is detached, no, lobotomised, and it’s completely foreign. But the look in her eyes is anything but. Exactly the same way as before. Bright, but dimming with each passing moment. Affected.    

“I… I don’t know what to do.”

Eunchae stares. Then the tears burst from her eyes.

And you could say a million things about that moment. About how it hurts, how it feels wrong. About how afraid you are of each next passing second, unsure where this road is going, or if there’s any road at all. 

Your heart knows. Your mind knows. Each sparkle down Eunchae’s cheeks knows. She bites her lips, redirecting the pain outward, into something she can feel. She sniffs.

“You should let me go.”

Your throat goes dry. The right thing is to agree, right? Let her lead a better life, you’d do that if you truly loved her. You had no right to keep her for so long anyway, or to keep her at all. So you should just say it. Everyone would be happier this way. 

But. What’s stopping you? 

Eunchae’s breath catches, half because she actually needs air when she’s dying like this, and half because she’s watching your own tears fall.

“I don’t want to. I really, really don’t want to. I don’t know why-” 

“I don’t want to either.”

And you wish she didn’t say that. Because the truth is you love her. But that doesn’t matter, at least not anymore. Not here. Love is bullshit, disaster, the problem. The only thing that can’t be explained in any sort of rational manner-

“I still love you. So much.” 

And Eunchae sobs. Loudly. Her eyes crush into this ugly shape, her teeth gritted like she’s in pain. And the truth is, the two of you should be sick of each other. The two of you should hate each other. By coexisting, logic states that the two of you aren’t a match. The two of you can’t even decide on dinner sometimes, for gods’ sakes. 

She just says, I eat anything, even when the both of you know she has particular foods she doesn’t eat, and then you go I eat anything, because you actually do. And then the two of you just stand there, in the mall, waiting.

“We can’t keep going back,” Eunchae murmurs, rubbing at her eyes, her whole body trembling with each uncontrolled weep. And love, which is the sweetest pain, the most intense, it all just… seems so pointless. Why? Why couldn’t you have been different? Why are you still fighting for this? Eunchae’s next words make so much sense.

“All we’ve been doing is coming back to this moment. It’s a loop. We break, we fall. We come back. -hic- We never move on. You argue with yourself over and over again if you’re doing the right thing, like it matters to deny what’s in your heart.”

She sniffs again, and your hand shoots out to grab the tissue box by the end of the table. To drag it into the space between you two like a marker.

“...Should we just go?” You say, clearing your throat like you’ve been yelling for seven straight hours at a wall. 

“I don’t know,” Eunchae admits, shoulders hunched, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue. She looks up with this sad smile, this look that tells you she can’t care any more about the consequences. “How could I ever know?” 

She’s right. You’ve always known she’s right. You picked her because she’s always been right. Right in her own way. Just. The whites on the wall don’t need to peel for you to understand. There’s no need for a bell to signal the end of this ballad.

“I’d still try, you know? Over and over again. No matter how long it takes. Regardless of if it matters. If it changes anything.” “At the very least, I’d still be with you. Even if it hurts. I don’t know if I know how to go.”

“I know you would,” Eunchae almost laughs, this unnaturally light sound in this sombre mood, “But it’s okay. We can move on. Pretend this never happened. Pretend you never had the urge to come to me, to take me, use me, communicate something in a way that matters. Pretend you never loved me.”

“It sucks,” Eunchae admits, “We could call it quits here, right now. And it’ll feel like we’ve dumped a pointless amount of something to get to nothing. And maybe in a few years you’ll really forget all about me, realise that this was all pointless. Move on to someone younger, prettier and better. And that’s just how life works. It allows you to fixate on all the right things, and you’ll just get rid of anything that’s even halfway difficult to approach.”

Eunchae sniffs again. Her tears have stopped, and this moment really does feel final. There’s nothing left to write. 

“I should go,” you say.

You should go.

“The house,” she begins, turning to face the walls. Everything the two of you have taken shelter under, that’s been built together. Fifty-fifty. Even. Split.

“Keep it. It’s yours.” You say. The truth is, even the idea of retaining your share of everything feels like a black mark you won’t be able to erase. It’s best to just leave everything as it is. Cut yourself off completely. Remove yourself from any suspicion. 

“This house was made because of you. It should be left to you.”

Eunchae nods, slowly at first, like she’d argue. But arguments now are… needless.

The two of you pack like a couple. An actual one. She just hands things over wordlessly, things that go neatly into the next part of your suitcase. Clothes are easy. Everything else is difficult. Because how do you find things that she hasn’t touched, hasn’t graced? How do you just… remove everything that’s been tormenting you for months?

And it’s the way the tears start again, because each layer you unpack is another thing, another stupid reminder of what the two of you blended and made. Eunchae sinks to the floor, cradling one of those predrawn artworks the two of you never got around to finish painting, and even you can’t find the strength to pick her back up. You called it stupid. She’d promise you it’d be finished in two weeks, together. Bought it last year. On holiday. You watch her. Face concealed, that wavy curtain of hair you always thought hid her beauty from the outside world now looks like refuge, the last thing stopping her.

“I don’t want you to go.”

It’s soft. But genuine.

You zip up your suitcase. “I’ll see myself out.”

You declare it like she doesn’t trail behind you anyway, white following black, all the way to the door. 

“It’s… for real this time,” you say, exhausted. This has been a long time coming. Eunchae nods, like she agrees, her eyes still staring straight at the center of your body. Maybe she can see your heart. But she probably can’t. Because otherwise she probably would have stopped you by now. “... goodbye?” Eunchae says slowly.

And you look past her, at the house. The room. Everything that’s still there, that Eunchae will slowly have to filter out, toss away. And you almost smile. Maybe a part of you will still be here, even though it doesn’t matter. You won’t forget, will you? This should feel important. 

The house still smells like her. You wonder how long it’ll take her to get rid of your scent.

“Bye.”

And the important thing here is not how you leave, turning away, letting the door close on you without support, without either of you having a hand on the handles, but the way she reacts. Because you might not goddamn see it, but it’s everything that’s happening behind the door, the thing you can only imagine is happening, that really gets you.

How she slumps against the door, forehead first, then sinks. The way she has to curl up against it, a ball of ashy hair, her nails scratching at her lower lip, eyes empty. 

The way her fingers still find a way to scratch at the wooden front door, like you’re on the other side, and she’s the one waiting for you to open up and let her inside.

And your feet still haven’t left the dais.

Does it matter? Is everyone right? Is this lie of pretending she doesn’t exist, like she isn’t right fucking there, is this the best thing us as human beings could come up with?

Should you give a fuck? Don’t we pride ourselves on freedom of expression? If this fucked up way of constantly thinking about her, constantly coming back to her is wrong? Then what isn’t?

Desecration. Humiliation. The she knows or she doesn’t. Innocence and youth and the you shouldn’t do her like this, like everything’s true in your heart is false because it cannot be seen. Anguish.

The door clicks.

Eunchae stumbles away from the door, eyes widening like gold is falling from the sky. She barely gets a foot away before it swings open, and you’re quick, rushed.

You grab her by the scruff of her neck, pulling her up, tossing your luggage to the side. You don’t care if the handle cracks the marble.

And yeah, it looks like a fight. And it is a fight. A fight to protect the one goddamn thing you love.

Your lips find Eunchae’s. She’s pretty, all with her rosy lips and panicked gasps, but the kiss is anything but.

You press hard. Your fingers go to her hair, her neck, pulling her in. Her nails curl against your thin tee like she’ll scratch your heart out.

It takes a moment for you to realise she’s crying. Wait no, you are. What does it matter?

You pull apart for a fraction of a second, so you can realign yourself and kiss her again. She cries directly into your mouth, and it’s a rough pound against your chest that finally separates the two of you.

“Why?” She croaks, your lips stained with the salt of her pain, “you were supposed to leave. You had to leave! Now we’ll just go back into that same rhythm again!”

You don’t reply, just pull her in again. And yeah, she goes powerless. She kisses you back, harder than you thought possible, her fingers tugging hard at your shirt, pulling it up and bunching the fabric up.

The two of you break only when desperately necessary, both heaving like the two of you have summited a peak.

“I can’t go. Won’t go. Don’t go.” 

And Eunchae squeezes her eyes tightly shut. And your lips go to her cheek, right below her eye. All this isn’t new to you, save for the fact that this is the latest time you’ve mended back together.

Her hands go to your back, squeezing you tight, keeping you close. She doesn’t draw away, only pulls you in deeper, because the both of you realise losing this is the only real defeat in both your lives.

She pulls your shirt off, over your head. Her hands rest against your chest, next to your beating heart.

“I missed you,” she admits, between laboured sobs.

“Me too.”

“Bedroom.”

The two of you stumble backwards, a clumsy waltz back. You guide her, slowly, all while she starts pressing gentle kisses on your neck, your collar. Breathes in your scent hungrily like your memory can fade away from her nose, given time.

You guide her hands to find the top of the mattress. Her fingers close, take in the textile feel of the fabric.

You reach for the hem of her shirt. And you wait, longer than you should. Long enough to hesitate.

But she nods. And you pull it off of her.

Her bra is simple. Grey. Your lips find hers first, a kiss to reassure, to remind her this is happening, your hands thumbing away her tears, which are stilling.

She doesn’t shiver at your touch, doesn’t flinch when your lips go to that spot beneath her ear. You’ve been in this spot before.

All she does is tug you over her, closing the distance to nada, till you can feel her own need on yours. Her hands disappear behind her back, and it’s quick, the way her bra is tossed aside with her left hand, and her cute little handfuls are bared to you.

And sure. Maybe it’s wrong. Maybe you’ve taken things too far. Maybe what’s important is that you don’t fucking care. You want her. She wants you.

You kiss her shoulder. Then her breasts. You’re painstakingly gentle with each, placing gentle kisses on each mound, your hands rubbing her waist in circles. She arches her back, her breath catching in a delightful little gasp.

“More,” she asks cutely.

You swear you’ll protect her till the day you die. You use your thumbs first, introduce them to the sides of her breasts. It’s a formal greeting, letting her feel the warmth of your touch as you draw the curves of her chest before you start applying any pressure. 

Her fingers find your hair, moaning as your tongue paints her sensitive skin, glides over her nipples. 

“Oh fuck,” you hear. You grin inwardly.

You rub her peaks against your tongue, rub the surrounding flesh with your fingers. They feel good in your hands, good as they always would. That’s the exercise here.

Eunchae shudders, her elbows squeezed to her side like it tickles, her fingers clenching on open air.

“Mmnn!”

“Love you, babe. So much.”

You kiss her lips again. Your fingers brush over her rubbery nubs firmly, insistently, a metronomic motion.

“God yes,” she says, smiling with her eyes.

Below her shirt, she has shorts on, denim booty shorts, previously concealed beneath her oversized tee. Your hands are already slightly edging downwards, and the only thing that stops you is a sudden giggle from above.

“What?” You say, confused.

Eunchae reaches for her own chest, gently squeezing and humming softly. “You look so stupid going to take my pants off while you’re crying.”

You laugh, and she joins in. “Doofus, you’re crying too.”

“Fuck,” she says, grinning as she does so. Then her hands come down to help. One firm push from her, mixed with one sharp tug from you, and everything else falls off of her.

“Damn, beautiful.”

Eunchae laughs, meaning to pull you back up to her, but you’re already snaking your way down below, till your knees are off the bed and on the floor.

“Not wasting time, are we?” She says idly, propped up on one elbow, the other tossing her hand back behind her.

“All we do is waste time,” you reply, pulling her legs apart without another word.

Her pussy, soft, inviting, looking like it can’t fit more than a couple fingers in there. They shine with arousal, and you don’t need to look up to know she’s slightly flushed.

You take the same approach you did with her tits, rubbing gently into the flesh of her thighs, and pressing loving kisses to either side till she nearly kicks you from her giggles. 

“You don’t have to be shy, you know.”

“Funny,” you reply, “coming from you.”

You plunge your tongue between her legs.

Eunchae gasps, her eyes widening as it hits her all at once. You go deep, plunging into the depths of her core while making her sure her legs go still. 

You lap gently. Take what’s coating your tongue and go around her outer lips first, give both sides equal attention before you spread them again, drinking from the pool between them.

Eunchae shudders, throwing her head back, an unexpectedly low tone passing from between her lips.

You press down on your tongue, using your head for added effect to apply more pressure, letting her feel the heat of your own tongue.

“Shit!”

“Mmm, yum,” you reply. 

Eunchae clamps a hand over her mouth, her eyes all wide, doing a remarkable job and concealing her pleasured groans even as your gentle laps against her pussy turns to lashes.

“Now who’s being the shy one?” you tease, gathering spit on your tongue as additional lubricant and letting it fall lewdly between her legs.

“Shut up. This is… different.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Different? What, does it feel like you’re being watched?”

“I don’t know, maybe, yeah.”

“Like you need to care about giving a fuck. Just keep your eyes on me. And you know I like it when you voice your enjoyment.”

“Fine, jeez, it’s embarrassing, you know,” Eunchae says. You don’t reply, already leaning forward for a second helping.

This time, a couple of your fingers work to pull her further apart, because the truth is, she’s tight. She always has been, and maybe always will be. You rub a finger between the slit, because you know it’s better when she has time to get used to it. And you know she loves it when you take your time with her.

And you haven’t even gotten to the button poking out from beneath her hood yet.

“Ah!” Eunchae cries when you seize it by the lips, legs shaking. 

“God, you eat pussy like you’re famished.”

“Only yours,” you reply, pressing another gentle kiss to her thigh, giving her but a moment’s respite. “And like you’d blame me.”

A chuckle is her response, one that’s cut off as you really start to go for it, apply full strokes the way you’ve learned she enjoys.

She enjoys everything really, anything beneath your touch. But you’ve worked hard to know what really gets her going.

“Don’t cramp on me now,” you warn, because it’s happened before.

“Ah! That- guh, that’ll be later.”

It’d be better if it was never, because it really does get in the way sometimes. But occasionally that’s how it is. 

Eunchae locks her feet together behind your head, sinking back against the sheets, arms spread wide. You glance up, able to observe her heavy breathing, her chest heaving as she tosses her head left, then right like she’s having a bad dream.

She decorates the room with her soft cries, her tone a blend of rich timbre and youthful charm. Your hands keep her legs well apart, fingers almost drumming a pattern into her skin.

“Fuck, that feels really good,” Eunchae confesses.

Her hips start to move in time with your tongue, bucking back and forth gently till she hits a particular spot and lets out a shattered moan.

“Right here?” You ask, redirecting yourself to find that spot you brushed by moments earlier.

The increase in amplitude of her voice gives you the answer.

“Oh my fucking-,” Eunchae buries her mouth into her elbow, “please don’t stop. I think I might cum.”

“I won’t stop, baby,” you say, your fingers replacing your tongue whenever you speak. Add one, let her feel the intensity. “I’ll keep going, right here, okay? Till you let go for me.”

You lower your head again, and all conversations stops. Just the soft sounds of you sucking on wet flesh and the louder sounds of what it’s doing to her entire body.

“Hnn- oh, oh,” Eunchae snaps her hips suddenly, like she managed to find even more than what she asked for.

“Oh shit, oh fuck. That’s really good.”

You almost scoff. As if she hates the word.

And the one thing about her is that she doesn’t lie. When she gets going, starts reaching her peak, it’s obvious. It comes in the slight tremble in her legs. Inconsistent at first, little twitches, her toes curling against one another, then more persistently, like a soft electrical hum.

“I’m going to cum soon,” Eunchae says, like you can’t feel it beneath the vibrations of her skin.

You continue your efforts. You don’t speed up, just keep giving it to her at this exact pace, the one that she’s into today, till it’s almost robotic. You don’t speed up, but you don’t slow either, and to Eunchae, it feels like a consistent, growing build up she can’t tug away from.

“Fucking g-mmmhmmph,” Eunchae hums, borderline painfully. Almost there. You will your tongue to continue, no matter how tired it may be.

Her voice comes out in vibrato.

“Fuck! Fuuu-uu-uuu-uu-ck!”

And it’s because her body does too. Her whole body shakes, convulses uncontrollably. You guess orgasms give some people electrical shocks, because her hips twitch and buck powerfully at incredible space, and yeah, you’ve seen this before, but it’s not like the scene isn’t amazing and incredibly hot each and every time.

Eunchae whimpers like she’s afraid, a long and deep orgasm that rocks her entire body, overstimulates every single nerve.

You hold her through it, closing your eyes and letting yourself hear her, hear how well you’ve done her, feel as wetness splashes against your chin.

You hold her till she stops shaking, fingers rubbing into her thighs, easing the muscles. She always gets like this. You pray, no cramps today, please.

Eunchae takes a few moments to gasp for air, a delirious, nonsensical laugh bubbling from between her lips.

“How was that?” You say, fishing for compliments.

It takes a couple of seconds for Eunchae to prop herself back up to look at you. Her eyes are wide, unfocused, her nostrils flared and jaw slightly open.

“You know our makeup sex is the best.”

You snigger, reaching up to pinch her cheeks. It’s still slightly cool from her faded tears. She slaps your hand playfully, scrunching her nose.

“You’re adorable,” you say, and she laughs.

“Come here, you sack of potatoes.”

You pull her towards you, just as your legs clamber back on the bed. Her legs stay splayed open on either side of you.

“Let’s get you out of these, hmm?” Eunchae’s fingers move your pants, almost gently singing a tune as she undoes them.

You watch her for a few good moments, lost in the way she looks, the way happiness evident in every fiber of her being brings a calmness to your heart as well.

You don’t know how you’d deny or ever leave her.

Eunchae seems to notice that she’s the only one actually doing anything, and she gives you that curious look, frowning and for a moment it seems like she’s going to berate you about leaving your laundry hanging about again. You help her hurriedly, shimmying out of your pants.

“Want a blowjob?” She asks, palming your length in her grip. The couple strokes that follow are wholly unnecessary, and only really serve to show how big you are in her hands.

You shake your head. “We have other days for that.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

No idea. You scoop your hands under her, under her sides, gently flipping her like a pancake. She makes a motion to raise her hips. You push them back down gently.

“Stay,” you say softly, slowly pulling her legs apart, lowering yourself till she can feel the heat of your pelvis above and behind her.

“This is cute.”

“Really, cute?” You say, slowly guiding yourself to her entrance. She’s beyond wet.

“Ye-ah!”

You push your hips forward, pressing delicately with each inch. Eunchae’s feet rub gently against the bedsheets, her voice hitching as her body grows to accept you.

It’s slow. She’s tight, but she’s also incredibly wet, so her body kind of tells you when you can sink fully.

“You good?” You ask breathily, your hands shaking against the bed. She feels indescribably good. Soft.

“Yeah,” Eunchae huffs, and the both of you hold onto your breaths as you thrust the last inch into her.

“There we go,” you gasp, feeling way too much at once. You can even discern her own heartbeat as your body drops over hers.

You press a kiss on her shoulder blades, and she rubs the back of your arms gently.

“God, fuck me,” she murmurs.

“Getting to it,” you mutter, frowning. She’s still somehow impatient.

The two of you shift till your hips are comfortably aligned. And then you lift your hips and slowly draw yourself from her warmth. 

“There we go,” Eunchae says with a slight hiss, “that’s it.”

Plap!

Her perky derrière claps against your pelvis as it drops.

Plap. Plap! Plap!

“Nngh, fuck,” Eunchae groans, her head falling to the sheets already.

“This might be too much for you,” you say.

“Shut up. Prick with a big dick.”

You laugh. That’s a new one.

The pace gets easy. Eunchae lies comfortably, prone, simply making sure her hips are up at the correct angle to make things easier for you. You focus on hilting on each stroke, controlling your energy and making sure each thrust is even.

But in no time at all, she’s bucking her hips back up as well, meeting you back. And it helps. Feels great, too.

“Mmm, fuck, I really don’t know how I could possibly get away from this.”

“Yeah, it’d be your loss. People do say I have a magic penis.”

Eunchae snorts, and, like she didn’t learn her lesson, it’s cut off again by her need to moan.

“What’s with this position anyway?”

“You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s good. mmm... Just curious. You shy?”

Plap!

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, maybe it’s because sometimes you’re too pretty and it hurts to look at you.”

“Bullshit!” Eunchae calls immediately, but then her expression turns serious. “Wait, seriously?”

You press a kiss to her ear; You press another to her cheek.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you whisper, before you start amping up your thrusts.

And you don’t see it, but Eunchae has a childish grin. And maybe it’s that kid competitiveness in her, but the harder and faster you start to thrust down, the harder her hips seem to rise up to meet yours.

Plap! Plap!

“Fuck,” you groan, tilting your head back. She’s gripping onto you so tight. Your head is swimming. The two of you could melt an ice pack with your shared body heat.

“So good.”

“Yeah? Liking it?”

“Mhmm!”

“Need something more?”

“No, this is great, really! Oh! Just, don’t act like I’ll break, mmkay? You’re gentler than usual today.”

Curious.

“Mmm, just let me know,” you mutter, refocusing your attention on making sure she gets it good. You press another kiss to her cheek, her hair tickling your nose, allowing you to catch a whiff of her pleasant ocean shampoo.

With surprising dexterity, Eunchae manages to reach for one of her hair ties laying next to her pillow, scooping her hair back and tying it into a neater ponytail. And it’s between her incessant moans and coos as well.

She tilts her head to the side, catching your gaze. She puckers her lips, and you get the message, meeting her for a couple of kisses. Difficult to get much more than light pecks in, but she doesn’t seem to complain. 

You rearrange to kiss her better, and her ass rises up naturally, her knees tucking beneath her.

“This is nicer,” Eunchae says between surprisingly chaste kisses, “you looked like you were trying too hard earlier.”

“Really? Is that an insult to my endurance?”

“You talk too much.”

Eunchae tugs you towards her again, and you can feel her smiling against your lips, and you’re sure she can feel you too.

“Harder, babe. Come on.”

You nod, pumping your hips forward, more used to this more elevated position. Eunchae flicks her ponytail back, straightening her back as your hands come to rest comfortably on her waist.

“Fuck, darling, you feel so good. Seriously. You’re the best.”

“Good that you know that,” Eunchae replies, “now fuck me like you mean it.”

Your fingers dig into her skin, truth be told, you’re still a little scared she’ll break. It’s just something about her in general. You blame it on her squishy cheeks. There’s something about her that sometimes makes you hold back. 

But whatever Manchae wants, Manchae gets. So if it’s a good dicking down, you’d be obliged.

The sounds of your hips meeting grows louder, rising to meet Eunchae’s volume. And her words get filthier.

“Oh god, yes! Fuck me! Harder!”

“That’s it,” she growls, “Yes! There!”

You gasp, overtaken by both exhaustion and pleasure. Eunchae doesn’t ever need to try hard to get you there, ever. Her gift, maybe.

“Mmm, fuck, Eun-ah, Chae, shit- babygirl,” your hands find her ass, kneading softly, something to distract you.

But Eunchae has other plans. She reaches behind grabbing a hold of your left hand with her own, and slowly tugs it forwards. 

Towards her back, you think at first, or her shoulders, for stability. But no, she brings you all the way to her head, clasping your fingers and pressing them over the back of her skull.

Then the angle between her thighs widens, and she arches her back fully, letting you see this magnificent view of all of her, that descends past her hips.

Her moans become muffled by the sheets. “Please!”

“Fuck.” You press her down, fully, keeping her head pressed to the bed as you ramp up.

“Oh, yes, like that! Just like that!”

“Are you getting close?”

“Mmm! Are you?”

“You know I am.”

“Just hold on a little bit longer, okay? Mmph! You’re fucking me so good right now, it’s driving absolutely crazy. Keep doing that, you crazy bastard. I love it!”

Ah hell. Whatever. 

You keep her pinned, your right hand grubbing her waist tightly; guiding the way her hips thrust back onto your cock so you can grind yourself as deeply as you can into her.

And you’re definitely on the right track, because her body twitches with surprising force, and she tries to tile her head back.

You release your grip on her locks, and she turns back to look at you urgently. You feel her trying to shift your weight. You slow, confused.

“I wanna see you when you cum in me.”

Your eyes go wide. But she’s already in motion, and the two of you reposition till she’s flat on her back, legs wide, you pressed, leaned between them.

She presses her hips up against you insistently, and it’s muscle memory that gets you fucking her again.

“Yes, I’m gonna cum!”

Yeah, you can feel that. Her legs are trembling again.

“Babygirl–”

“Cum with me! Cum with me, cum with me cum with me!”

Pleasure suddenly spikes throughout your whole body.

“Oh fuck, baby, wait–

“Fuck meee… Cumming!”

“Oh fuck!”

You groan, firing off first. It’s a complete crashing wave, one that knocks you off your metaphorical feet, till you’re dumping and groaning and simply gasping at how much it all is, suddenly spilling and shooting and feeling that it’ll never stop.

Eunchae’s a couple beats behind, her legs quivering and shaking with enough strength to rock the both of you as she shrieks, her hands twisted dangerously tight around your arms. Both your moans reverberate, and your eyes nearly bug out of your skull.

With her full-body convulsions, it’s a completely unbelievable and incredible sensation on your member, and it wrings dry any possible remnants you could have.

It actually takes you a couple minutes to process what happened. You nearly ripped your cock out of her from the amount of sudden, concentrated pleasure. Sure, make up sex has always been awesome? But that?

Eunchae murmurs gently, incoherently, her eyes still firmly shut. She’s tugging at you gently, trying to get you over her, and once you regain your senses you let her, the two of you collapsing in a post sex coma.

“Holy shit,” you murmur. “That was…”

“Nnmm, uh..uh huh.”

“Baby–”

“Yeah.”

You’d laugh if you weren’t gasping for air.

After another five minutes, when the hammering in both chests have stopped, Eunchae presses a kiss to your cheek. You jerk your head up, having already nearly fallen asleep. 

She gives you another kiss on your lips, then rolls onto her side. You slide into that natural spot behind her, spooning you both.

“Covers.”

You tug the sheets and toss them over the both of you.

“I’m gonna pull out,” you murmur.

“Fuck it.”

You smile against her back.

“You’re crazy.”

“Mhm. Night, babe.”

“Night.”

You help to turn off the lights, then settle back into your spot. Everything feels right, just like it always has. The way you cuddle behind her, it’s like it has always been.

Except. Something nags at you, and it takes you a moment to figure out what’s up.

“Babygirl.”

“Yeah?” Eunchae asks a heartbeat later.

“You thinking?”

“...yeah.”

“About what?”

Eunchae doesn’t reply. 

“... Is it about whether anything changed?”

A sniffle.

“Hey,” you say, reaching over. You cup her cheeks. They are damp. You sigh.

“I know. God dammit. I know.”

“It’s the same,” Eunchae murmurs, like it is heartbreak. “Is it? Is it another loop, baby? Is it not working for you?”

“No, I mean… no. It…”

“What?”

You feel Eunchae shuffle in her position. “We’re improving. We are. You didn’t even dump your laundry in the right basket at first. Now you’re doing it for me. I don’t know how you feel, but I feel like every time, we get a little closer. Closer to that perfect thing we both want, the perfect day we can both wake up to.”

You feel fuzzy. “Then why the tears?”

“Because I don’t know if we’re healing fast enough. What if it takes too long to get there. What if the guilt gets to you? What if one of us gets chased out?”

A pause. You rub her cheeks gently, trying to rid her tears with damp fingers. You don’t know, honestly.

“Then fuck it. What matters is our here and now. And that we tried. I won’t run away from it. If I go down, I go down swinging. You’re what matters.” 

“Do you believe that?”

You lie back down, your hand still protectively wrapped around her waist. 

“I do. Because nothing’s worth it if I don’t.”

After a while, Eunchae’s breathing turns regular, smooth. You said something that mattered, something true. And it must have comforted her. And even as you sink into sleep, sink deeper into the confirmation that yeah, you know what, you believe in what you said. What does anything else mean in the grand scheme of things? Does anything matter more than the warm body next to you?

The real question is:

Did any of it matter?

Because what else is any of this? Besides video tapes that are only evidence to two?

____

You’re pretty sure you’ve told your knees to stop shaking three times already. And still, they wouldn’t listen.

You rub your hands together. It’s not even that cold yet. Some of the fleece on your jacket must have peeled off. The insulation feels like shit today. Your eyes scan the campus garden furtively, making sure that none of your friends are in the vicinity. You have to be undercover today, or you’ll never hear the end of it.

“Hey.”

Ah crap. You swallow slowly, turning your head to look at her. Hong Eunchae, hair done up in a ponytail, with those bangs that have become her signature. 

“Hey.”

“You look like a wreck. Did one of the profs assign a surprise test or what?”

“No,” you chuckle weakly, “that’s not it. But I’m sure you can guess what’s really up.”

Eunchae tilts her head to the sky for a moment, slowly walking over and dropping her bag on the seat next to yours. 

“Yes, considering everyone’s eyes on campus will be on you from this day onward, I guess you’d be nervous.”

“Thanks for the sympathy.”

Eunchae laughs. “I mean, what were you expecting? You had the balls to come up to me to ask me out, you’d better have the balls to become the talk of the school for the next few weeks.”

“For the foreseeable future, more like. I can already imagine Yunjin’s instagram post. Comp Eng Loser tries to steal my bestie? I’m gonna smoke his ass.”

“Oh, Yunjin already knows.” 

“What?” You freeze.

“Eh, you’ll be alright.”

“You do realise that the both of us have no idea if this is going to work, right?”

“All the more reason for you to not screw this up, then.”

“...Fantastic.”

____

“Emmchhe!”

Eunchae doubles over, her hands clutching her belly.

You pull the ice cream cone off your face, looking positively furious.

“Are you kidding me?”

“You look like Anpanman!”

“Oh it’s funny to you, is it?” You growl, rubbing the strawberry ice cream on your flushed cheekbones. “Seriously? Ice cream slap? This cone cost fourteen bucks!”

“Worth it!” Eunchae sings, throwing you finger guns. 

“You!” You snarl, swiping at her face with the cone. Eunchae shrieks.

“Ah! You got it on me!”

A long streak of red slices across Eunchae’s features from lip to jaw, like a really bad nosebleed.

“Deserved. I’m taking a photo.”

“Hey!”

Eunchae’s fingers clamp around the hand reaching into your pocket, halting it. You roll your eyes. 

“Fine. I won’t. Let go of me.”

“I don’t trust you! Haha!” 

You sigh, watching as the ice cream starts to melt on her soft features. Without thinking, your free hand comes up to start wiping it off. Eunchae’s eyes widen for a moment. Then she giggles. Laughs. Her hands release your own, and she comes up to tap at your cheeks, like she’s checking if the damage has really been done.

You laugh too. Goddammit.

____ “It’s peaceful here,” Eunchae mutters, leaning her head against your shoulders. It’s nice and cool, the perfect temperature to come to the river. Eunchae was right in dragging your lazy ass over. “I thought it’d be busy, but it’s like everyone knows to keep things quiet and nice.”

“Yeah, it’s nice. But your jjapageti is getting cold.”

“Mmm… feed me.”

“You’re such a baby,” You sigh, but you do it anyway. Eunchae giggles, clapping happily. 

“Delicious!” 

“Yeah yeah,” you smile. Your hand reaches for the fried chicken next. “Try this.”

Eunchae makes an appealing crunch. She hums in joy, her whole body swaying at the taste. You laugh. It’s ridiculous. She even bobs her head.

“You better feed me next.”

“I don’t wanna!”

“Brat.”

___

“So I’m going first?”

“Prepare to have your mind blown, Miss Hong. This dish is about to be so good, it’ll give you an out-of-body orgasm.”

“Pervert!”

“What? It happens in Food Wars! This is culinary expertise here!”

“Sure, sure. But the plating looks kind of simple, don’t you think?” “Blasphemy! How dare you insult my skills. It’s art. A Michelin recipe!”

“Michelin, eh? You know the tire company-”

“Yeah, yeah, just get on with it. I cannot wait to see the look on your bedazzled face when you try my bamboozling bokkeumbap.”

“Alright, Chef Ramsay. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You watch intently as she scoops up a spoon of rice.

“Get the kimchi! That’s the best part!”

“Jeez, let me eat in peace, will you?”

The food enters her mouth. She chews. Bites. There’s a nice sounding crunch of kimchi. Her face is stoic. You watch with baited breath.

Then she frowns, squeezing her eyes shut and cringing.

“It’s salty!”

“Bullshit!” You leap to your feet, offended beyond belief. You were a goddamn magician in the kitchen earlier!

“It really is!” 

“This is biased judgement. Malfeasance!”

“Settle down, boy who cried wolf. I rate it a five out of ten.”

Your jaw slams into the ground. “A five? Where are my boyfriend pity points?”

“Already included. Two of them, in fact.”

You feel like tossing the frying pan at her. Your hands vanish into your hair. This is outrage!

“Try mine.”

“No! This isn’t fair. We need an unbiased judge! I’ll call the neighbours over.”

“Scared you’ll lose?”

Your eye twitches.

“Yeah right. If mine’s a five, yours is not even surpassing a three.”

“Spoon to the plate, dipshit.”

“I can’t wait to puke all over you.”

“Ew!”

You take your seat. Scoop up a plate of suspiciously orange looking bokkeumbap. So what if her egg is fluffier than yours? The rice is the real deal breaker here. Eunchae watches you like she already knows she’s won. What an egotist.

You send it to your mouth confidently. Yeah right, there’s no way she’s gonna beat you. She nearly dropped the knife earlier, nearly caused a panicked mess. You can’t wait to spit it back at-

Your face blanks. You stare. Your spoon clatters to the table.

Eunchae shows her pearly whites.

You stare at the plate. Then back at her. Chew.

“That’s not fair!” You roar, slamming your hand down on the table like you need a drink. Eunchae shrieks with glee, climbing out of her seat and doing a celebratory spin.

“This is your mom’s recipe! How the hell am I supposed to beat that!”

“Eat my ass!” 

Oh you’ll do that alright. But you’re still fucking mad.

“This was supposed to be an individual competition! No outside help allowed!”

“I cooked it all myself,” Eunchae says matter-of-factly.

“Using other people’s recipe is against the rules!”

“Uh, actually, dipshit, it wasn’t even in the rules. Brains beats brawn, right?”

“Fuck off!” You turn back to the table, shoving another mouthful of her bokkeumbap into your mouth, “Mommy’s girl. Cheater!”

Eunchae laughs, drumming her hands against your back. You continue eating, shovelling the impeccable taste of her mom’s cooking into your goblet, all while ranting about the injustice of society.

“Hey! That’s my lunch! Go back to eating your three out of ten! Asshole!”

____

The cabin shakes slightly beneath your feet, giving both you and Eunchae a slight scare. She looks up at you, sniggering.

“This is safe, right?”

“Yes, you big baby. Now focus on what’s behind you.”

You turn around, watching as the Ferris Wheel starts to ascend, giving you a great view of the Japanese coastline. 

“Wow. Blue, blue, and more blue. Stunning.”

“Killjoy,” Eunchae grumbles, taking out her phone to snap a few pictures to send to Chaewon and the girls. You smile, hands in your pockets, one thumbing a thin chain of metal between your fingers.

“Hey, babe?” You say once the two of you are decently up in the air. 

“Yeah? Could you bend over, baby? I want to take a pic behind you.”

You’ll ignore making the obvious joke this time.

“Are you enjoying our anniversary celebration?”

“Yeah,” Eunchae nods happily, then tilts her head to the side. “Why?”

“Rate it?”

“Ten out of ten? You brought me to Japan, babe. I think that’s definitely a step up.”

It’s good that she’s loving it and all, but you get a cheeky idea.

“A perfect ten? Okay then. Guess my job here is done.”

Eunchae narrows her eyes. “What is it?”

“Nothing?”

Her eyes drop to the hands in your pockets.

“What’s that? You’ve got something.”

“Is that so? Why don’t you guess? What has Bagginses got in his pocketses?”

Eunchae rolls her eyes. “Show it to me.”

“You’re no fun,” you sigh. 

You pull the necklace out from your pocket, grinning as you see her eyes glimmer and her smile widen.

“Oh my god. I could kiss you.”

“Could? You better kiss me. This is worth at least a dozen kisses from my girlfriend. And a blowjob. And buttsex!”

“Freak!” Eunchae’s eyes widen, but her smile is still plastered on. “Give it here!”

“Giveitses?”

“Oh, stop with that. Come on!”

“Come here then!”

Eunchae cheers excitedly as she moves over to your side, giggling as you gingerly put it on for her.

“You lose this, and you’re paying me back with buttsex.”

“Stop!”

You smile at the little glimmer now added to her shine. It’s perfect, like you thought it would be. For a moment, nothing matters. Not the bill, not the time spent, not what’s going to happen next. It’s just you and her. And that indescribable feeling. “What do you think?”

Eunchae looks down, her eyes similarly in a state of wonder.

“I love it.”

“It? Is that all you really have to say for yourself?”

She giggles, like she doesn’t even care how much she’s rubbing it in.

“Fine. What do you want me to say?”

“You even need me to tell you?” You say, shaking your head in disappointment.

“Come on. Say the three words babe.”

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