Styling her hair in Doggy Style - Le Sserafim Sakura
*Hey, you do Chaewon's hair right?* Sakura texts you out of the blue.
*Not really?*
*Okay perfect, can you come by now? I asked Chaewon already and she said you're free* You look at the clock, it's 10 pm, what hairstyling would she need now? Maybe one of those late night photoshoots?
*Fine, just text me the location*
You show up at said location—it's an apartment building, a specific apartment, to be exact. You realize belatedly when you knock on the door that this is her apartment.
"Oh, you're here, come in!" Sakura greets you with a smile, dressed very casually in a cute singlet and gray sweatpants.
"You need me to style your hair... Here?" you ask, following her into her bedroom, her gaming PC glowing in RGB.
"Yes, I'll be taking some selfies, and I would like some... Messier hair."
"Messier hair?"
"Bed hair of a specific kind." Sakura already has her arms around your neck. "I think I sent my message before I finished writing it." You think you get her message loud and clear, hands holding her slim midriff and feeling her breath quicken.
"Oh did you? What did you want to say?"
"I asked Chaewon, and she said you're free to fuck me." The last word comes out as a hiss, barely getting out between her lips before you kiss her. Sakura is eager, and as you put a hand on her thigh she's already leaning backwards, allowing both of you to tilt and fall on to the bed. Quick kicks of her legs leave her naked from the waist down, and her hurried hands have you naked below the belt too.
"Hungry?"
"Starving." She has wrapped a hand around you, guiding you in already. You watch her throw her head back as you fill her, and resist the urge to leave a hickey on her neck—she had selfies to take after all. "I need my hair to be messy so..." She nips you on your lower lip, the sting like a whip to your senses, Sakura the rider to you, her stallion.
"Don't be gentle."
You spread her legs further, loving the whine she makes as you sink deep into her. Your hands plant on either side of her, and as you start thrusting the scene in front of you is perfect—Sakura's beautiful face watching your every move, expression reflecting every bit of pleasure she feels; her hands grip the sheets, wrinkling them as they twist and grab in sync with your hips; her legs dangle just out of your peripheral view, hungrily helpless, wanting nothing more than to wrap them around you, but unable to do anything except push against your arms.
"Mmmm!" There is a loud smack of flesh-on-flesh violence as your body meets hers, and Sakura's bed is up to the task of helping you bounce off her, allowing you to slam deep inside her on every thrust, pushing moans out of Sakura that she's never heard herself make.
"Kkura, I can call you that right?" You're leaning over her, hands in her hair, holding her possessively as you make her flexible, pushing her legs back until it's at her shoulders and she's feeling the burn. You won't overdo it though—you just need her to cum like this.
"Yes, yes you can, nngh!"
"Good, then fucking cum for me Kkura!" With a few more thrusts that stretch her in more ways than one she does just that, legs quivering as it washes over her. She releases a long drawn out moan, and she jerks powerfully, legs pushing away from you and up the bed. You slip out of her, slick still dripping off your shaft, but that was fine—it was time for another position anyways.
You flip Sakura on her front, and she has enough awareness to get on all fours, ass raised in the air. She grunts as you line yourself up behind her and slide in, so you give her a moment, but nothing else leaves her lips—she just came, yet not a word about slowing down or giving her a moment. You lean over her again, this time from behind, and with your hand on her head, you twist and make her face you, and all you see is desire, her thirst for messy hair unquenched.
Time for the stallion to ride the rider.
You grab Sakura's arms and pull, keeping her back arched as you begin to fuck her. The angle lets you get at her g-spot easily, and soon she's yelping, shouting as stars begin to burst behind her rolling eyes.
"Oh, oh fuck it feels so good!" After stretching her legs you really stretch her arms in this position, pulling on them hard as you crash into her with furious thrusts. Her head turns this way and that, bouncing and jangling as her neck struggles to keep up with the force and pleasure going through her body. You pull her upright against you, an arm around her tight tummy holding her there as you tilt her chin towards you—Sakura's drooling, eyes open but blank. She briefly focuses on you when you meet her eyes, but they quickly go blank again when you play with her clit, mind vacated by another orgasm. Sakura looks like a cat when you release your hold on her, only her hips still remaining off the bed as she crashes forward on to the mattress.
"Gonna cum soon," you warn as you pound Kkura's kitty from behind, the idol somehow still having the strength to push herself against you, giving you plenty to work with as you pound into her ass with satisfying claps of your body into hers. You stroke her messy hair, and as you tug on it slightly she tightens around you.
"Fuck Kkura, where!" This time you're a little more urgent, and you're the one stretching your limits dangerously.
"O-Outside, outside!" she gasps as you tug her hair on a particularly hard thrust, triggering another orgasm. You manage to pull out before she can suck you in, and with a loud groan of relief you unload your cum all over her back and ass, streaks of cum firing over her lower back and staining her top, splotches of white all over her cheeks, red and pink from the rough fuck.
With a sigh Sakura collapses on the bed, but she recovers with surprising energy.
"Ah, the selfies, quick, clean me up." She directs you to the tissues, and with a quick wipe she's sitting up, phone in hand as she quickly takes a couple, making sure that the fact she's bottomless is kept out of frame—she is truly a professional.
"Perfect," she says as she swipes through the shots.
"The hair, or the sex?"
"The hair of course. Chaewon's too nice to you, one good night and you think it's the perfect night?"
"Are you saying you need more nights to be sure?"
"Call it under evaluation. You stained my top so that's gonna hurt your score."
"Damn, remind me to take off your top next time."
"Yes, take notes. But my hair looked good, so don't worry too much about your score." As you get dressed you can't help but think that she's just messing with you—Sakura would look good regardless of her hair.
"Sure, whatever. I'll just go then?"
"Yeah, I won't see you out, just close the door behind you."
"Really?" You turn around to find Sakura still lying on the bed, blushing slightly.
"I don't think I can stand right now."
Top marks, for sure.
A/N: Just a quickie, saw that messy hair and had to write it as a followup to the previous Chaewon quickie, thanks for reading!
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Boredom doesn't seem to go away in the office. You think that one day you will get used to it, that day never comes. Slumped in your ergonomic chair, pretending to analyze quarterly reports while actually doomscrolling through an endless feed, you would give anything to shake things up in your life right now. Another Tuesday, another slow march towards the sweet release of 5 PM. Then your phone, lying screen-down on the desk amidst coffee rings and scattered pens, buzzes.
You barely register it. Probably just another Slack notification from accounting about the missing TPS reports, or a group chat exploding with irrelevant memes. You sigh, ready to silence it without looking.
But when you flip it over, it's not from accounting.
It's a DM.
There's a name.
And holy shit, not just any name. It's Karina. Yeah, the Karina. From Aespa. Except the contact isn't her stage name. It's the one you punched in years ago, still stubbornly saved under her actual name: Jimin. That old, familiar ache, that weird nostalgic flutter, tightens in your chest. Suddenly, you're not staring at sales projections; you're seventeen again, a sweaty, nervous wreck on some sun-baked summer sidewalk, every fiber of your being screaming just kiss her, you idiot, just do it, while you probably mumble something about the weather.
You blink, hard, because this makes zero sense. You haven't spoken to her for years. And the way it ended… a full-on, no-explanation ghosting after that spectacularly cursed attempt at a hookup. What a fucked day.
It wasn't even like you actually did anything. You didn't even get that far. You’d just managed to get her clothes off, lips still slick from making out, hands trembling as you lifted her onto your lap on that beat-up couch. The second your dick came out, she just… panicked. Froze up like she’d just seen a goddamn monster crawl out of your jeans. She let out this shaky, nervous laugh, mumbled something about a curfew she’d totally forgotten. But you know. Oh, you know exactly what it is. The sheer, improbable size of it. That sick, familiar twist in your gut as you realize it has happened again. You weren't even fully hard yet. Doesn’t matter.
She ran. Bolts like the place is on fire.
You can’t even really blame her (okay, maybe a little). You're always the weird, skinny dude, the one people probably figure is packing an innie until proven otherwise. And Karina (Jimin, back then), she has this effortless cool-girl vibe that just makes your brain short-circuit whenever she so much as glances your way for too longl. You try, so fucking hard, not to fall for her. Fail. Spectacularly. And then that one chance, your one shot to escape the friendzone, gets instantly demoted to a horror story she probably now dishes to her bandmates between grueling dance practices and sold-out stadium shows.
Except… she's actually messaging you. Right now.
hey
it’s been a while huh?
You jolt upright in your chair so fast your colleague in the next cubicle peers over the divider with a raised eyebrow. Her profile pic is pure idol perfection: full glam, hair in those impossibly soft, expensive-looking waves, eyes that are somehow both icy and flirty. This isn't Jimin anymore. This is Karina of Aespa, a literal K-pop goddess. The kind of woman entire nations fantasize about from behind their phone screens, and she’s DMing you, a random office drone, like you’d just casually bumped into her at a 7/11.
i was thinking about you the other day
kinda random but i’d like to catch up
you free this weekend?
No emojis. No awkward apologies or explanations. Just straight to it, like those six years of absolute silence haven't even happened.
Your chest feels tight, but not in a bad way. More like a champagne bottle about to pop. A million questions scream in your head, why now? what the hell is this about? but your thumbs are already a blur across the screen:
yeah
just tell me when and where
The typing bubble appears, blinks, disappears, then reappears. Teasing you. You wonder if she remembers. That night. That… thing about you. She has to. No way she’s forgotten something like that. Maybe she thinks you’ve… grown into it? Learned to manage it better? Maybe she's curious to see.
Then:
okay :)
I’ll send the details soon
looking forward to it
You stare at your phone screen long after her name vanishes, the glow of the monitor reflecting in your wide eyes. The phantom sensation of her weight, her presence, still echoes in your lap like a deeply ingrained muscle memory. The way she has of making any room, any space, subtly bend around her. The way you used to bend around her, orbiting like a damn fool, just waiting for her to look your way and actually mean it.
And now, impossibly, she's looking again.
—
The address pops up just after noon, no preamble. Just a pin-drop in Gangnam with a bar name you don’t recognize (some sleek little English mashup that screams exclusivity), the kind of place influencers pretend to discover and rich people keep quiet about. You Google it anyway. The front’s barely labeled, no neon sign, just this faint etched logo over heavy black glass doors, like you’re supposed to already know where it is. One of those underground cocktail lounges, dim and expensive and deliberately vague.
Of course she’d pick somewhere like this.
You get there ten minutes early, which feels both desperate and practical. The room’s all moody lighting and brass. Like stepping into a perfume ad: everything smells expensive. Candles flicker in tiny glass jars at each low table, and there’s jazz playing, soft but rhythmic. You start scanning the booths, heart ticking like a countdown, nervous in a way that feels kind of humiliating. You're not in high school anymore.
But then you see her.
She's in a corner booth, half-shadowed by one of those gold-bar dividers. Hair down, silky black and parted to the side, soft curls kissing her collarbones. She's dressed like she knew exactly how this would go: long-legged, crossed at the knee, thighs poured into a leather mini-skirt that barely creases when she moves. A sheer black blouse with little sparkly threadwork running through it like constellations, the fabric so thin it flirts with the curves of her bra underneath. Not scandalous. Not vulgar. Just perfectly engineered to hold your gaze. One hand’s around her drink, some golden thing in a faceted crystal glass, and the other’s thumbing her phone like she’s half-focused, tapping fast. She looks up just once—sees you.
Smiles.
“Wow,” she says as you approach, rising halfway, fingers brushing your wrist as she gestures for you to sit across from her. “You really came.”
“Of course I did,” you say, but your voice is almost inaudible. You clear your throat and try again. “Jimin.”
Her eyes widen just slightly. The smile twitches. Not fake, just surprised. “Haven’t heard that in a while.”
“Still your name, right?”
“It is,” she says, sitting back down, crossing her legs the other way, and you catch the flash of glossy black boots under the table, knee-high, sharp-heeled, definitely not made for walking. “Only a few people still get to use it though.”
You slide into the seat across from her, still trying not to stare, but fuck it’s hard. She’s… glowy. Confident in a way that makes you feel like you’re dressed wrong even though you picked this outfit twice and stood in the mirror trying poses before heading out. She doesn’t need to try, doesn’t need to check the mirror; she knows what she’s doing. Every part of her outfit, her body language, the tone of her laughter, it’s all loaded like performance, but smoother. Natural. She's grown into it. Into this idol thing.
You’re still staring when she lifts her glass toward you.
“Drink?” she offers. “First one’s on me.”
“You paying?” you ask, raising a brow.
“For sure,” she says, grinning. “This idol thing pays well.”
A waiter materializes like magic. She orders another of whatever she’s having, something citrusy with gin, you catch the word yuzu, and you mutter your preference like it matters. It’s one of those bars where they probably judge you for ordering a beer.
“Damn,” you say after a beat, glancing at her with a crooked smile. “So this is your idea of casual now?”
She shrugs, sips. “This is how I dress when I want someone to look at me.”
You swallow hard. “It’s working.”
There’s a beat. A silence that stretches long enough for your drink to arrive. Her eyes never leave yours.
“You’re still such a flirt,” she says, amused. “But you’ve mellowed out. You used to be way more nervous.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely panicking inside,” you admit, taking a sip that burns and soothes at the same time. “I just got better at hiding it.”
She laughs, and the sound is all warm honey. It hits some buried part of you, it fucks with you.
“So how’ve you been?” she asks, smoothing a hand over her thigh. “Besides taller, obviously.”
You snort. “You’re still taller than me.”
“By this much,” she says, holding two fingers apart. “And the boots.”
“Even without the boots.”
“Some things don’t change.”
You both sip. And then the reminiscing begins. You start talking about school, about mutual friends, about the time you both got high and watched bad dramas all night, quoting lines and making each other laugh so hard she snorted kimchi soup out of her nose. She acts scandalized when you bring that up.
“I told you never to mention that again,” she groans, burying her face in her hand.
“And yet here we are.”
“Blackmail. That’s what this is.”
The drinks keep coming. You’re halfway through your third when you notice she keeps checking her phone. Quick glances. A tap here and there. She’s not scrolling for fun, no, it’s deliberate. Controlled. You figure it must be work. Maybe her manager checking in. Maybe something about her schedule. It doesn’t seem suspicious at first. You’re too busy watching the way her lips wrap around her straw, how her hand drapes over the rim of her glass, fingers tapping idly. You wonder how many guys have sat across from her like this, thinking maybe this time I get to take her home.
You’re not even sure what this is. Is it a catch-up? A date? Just nostalgia? But she invited you. She dressed like this. She's been holding eye contact like it’s a game. You’re buzzed now, not sloppy, just loose enough to lean in, resting your chin on your hand.
“You remember,” you say softly, “That time you were at my house and we kissed?”
Jimin looks up. Caught off guard. But not embarrassed. Her smile is smaller this time. Realer.
“Of course I do,” she murmurs. “You tasted like lemon soda.”
“You ran. You ran before we could... You know.”
“I had a panic attack,” she says, surprisingly blunt. “Didn’t even realize it until I was halfway down the street. I thought it was… I don’t know. Too much.”
“Was it because of me?”
She’s quiet. Her eyes dip to her drink. Then her phone buzzes again. She glances at it. This time her face changes (just a flicker). A subtle switch behind her eyes. Something has clicked.
“No,” she says finally, meeting your gaze again. “It wasn’t you. Not really. And I really, really want to redeem myself with you.”
But she doesn’t explain. Just downs the rest of her drink in one go and flags the waiter for another.
You mean to press more. To ask what that meant. But before you can, her phone buzzes one more time. She doesn’t check it. Just flips it over, screen-down. And leans forward with a little smile, as if she’s about to say something intimate, something she’s been holding in for a while. Her fingers trail along the rim of your glass, close but not quite touching yours.
Then she says: “Hey. You trust me, right?”
You say it without hesitation. Maybe it's the alcohol humming in your bloodstream or the way she's looking at you; clear, serious, a softness in her expression that strips away the glamor and shows just a little of the girl you remember. “Yeah,” you murmur, letting the word settle in your throat, simple and solid. “I trust you.”
That’s all she needs. Her eyes flicker like she’s confirming something to herself, then her fingers swipe across her phone, firing off a text with no explanation. You catch the little smirk at the corner of her lips, not playful, not cruel… something more satisfied. Purposeful. She slides her phone back into her clutch and stands, straightening the hem of her skirt. Her legs look even longer when she moves. The heel of her boot clicks once on the floor.
“Come on,” she says, brushing a hand lightly over your shoulder as she walks past you. “There’s a car waiting.”
You follow, blinking through the slow haze of three drinks and a thousand unspoken thoughts. Outside, it’s colder than you expect, the air sharp against your cheeks, but the car is there, sleek and black, window-tinted with the kind of purr you associate with rich people and K-drama antagonists. The driver doesn’t ask your name. Just opens the door.
You slide in after her, trying not to let your thigh brush hers too hard even though she’s made no effort to keep distance. Inside the car, the seats smell like leather and faint perfume. Karina settles in beside you, adjusting the strap of her bag, checking her lipstick in the reflection of her phone screen. She catches you looking.
“What?” she asks, amusement in her tone, head tilting.
“Where are we going?”
She leans back, one knee brushing yours, fingers sliding into her hair like she’s trying to undo the tension at her scalp. “To an apartment. Somewhere we can actually talk without everyone staring. Somewhere more comfortable.”
“Is it yours?”
She shrugs, teasing. “Partially.”
“Must be nice.”
“You’ve got no idea,” she grins, and then something flickers behind her eyes again, calmer now, more vulnerable. “I meant what I said back there. About redeeming myself.”
You glance at her. Her knees are still crossed, hands folded loosely in her lap. She’s not fidgeting. She looks totally in control. But her voice is quieter now, measured.
“I really fucked up back then,” she says. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I know I did. You probably felt… rejected.”
You hesitate. Then nod. “Yeah. I did.”
She turns slightly toward you, just enough to face you head-on. “And I get it now. It wasn’t just me walking out—it was me making you feel like something was wrong with you. Like you were some freak.”
You don’t say anything. The car’s too quiet. The engine hums beneath you, smooth, and the city lights flicker through tinted windows. You focus on her words, the precision of them, the way she’s not sugarcoating any of it.
“I used to think everything had to be this perfect fantasy,” she continues. “And I wasn’t ready for something real. I wasn’t ready for… you.”
You exhale slowly. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Okay,” she says, "but I still want to make it right.”
The rest of the ride passes in that charged silence, the kind that isn't awkward but thick with implication, like something's about to tip. You’re not entirely sure what you expected when she messaged you, but this? This is surreal. You're tipsy and hot under your collar, knees bouncing slightly, wondering if you should be nervous, or excited, or both.
You settle on both.
The car slows in front of a tall, anonymous building with glass that reflects too cleanly to be anything short of expensive. A valet greets her with a nod. You follow her inside, past a lobby that smells like orchids and designer soap. The elevator is silent, smooth, rising so fast it barely registers.
When the doors open, she leads you into an apartment that looks more like a photoshoot set than somewhere someone actually lives. Polished hardwood floors, ambient recessed lighting, modern furniture in sharp angles and plush velvet textures. There’s a huge floor-to-ceiling window spilling moonlight across the living room, and a minibar tucked beside a long black couch. She moves through it like she’s done this a hundred times before.
“Make yourself comfortable,” she says, stepping behind the bar and reaching for bottles you can’t even pronounce. “Shoes off, if you want. The floor’s heated.”
You toe your sneakers off and sink into the couch, running your hand over the fabric absently. Your head's spinning a little now, and it’s not just the alcohol. It’s her. It’s the fact that she brought you here, into this private space, dressed like a fantasy and saying everything anyone would like to hear. The lines are blurred and blurring further.
She turns back with one glass, something crystalline and amber glowing under the lights. She hands one to you with a smile.
“What is it?” you ask, sniffing it. It smells like honey and something herbal.
“Something special,” she says, settling beside you on the couch. “It’s got a little kick. But it’ll help you… relax. Feel good. Get in the mood.”
You blink. “Get in the mood?”
Her smile doesn’t falter. “For tonight. For me. Just drink.”
You hesitate, but only for a second. You're already floating. Her thigh is pressed to yours now, warm through the thin fabric of your pants. You take a sip. It's smoother than expected, sweet at first, then biting, like cinnamon chased with a punch of something foreign. Your body responds immediately, heat blooming in your chest, your arms, your thighs.
“Strong,” you say, wincing as you go for a second sip.
“Mmhm,” she hums. “But you’ll feel amazing.”
Your skin starts to prickle, not uncomfortably. Just... heightened. Like everything is vibrating a little faster than it should. Your fingers twitch. You glance at her. Her pupils are wide, lips parted just slightly as she watches you drink.
You set the glass down, heart beating a little too fast now. “What’s in it?”
“Something that’s gonna make tonight unforgettable,” she murmurs, leaning in to brush her lips just below your jaw. Not a kiss, just a graze. “And I’ve got a surprise.”
Your pulse thumps. “Another one?”
She stands again, smooth and sudden, stepping across the room and pulling her phone from her clutch. She types something. A long message. Sends it.
Then she turns to face you again, hair tumbling over her shoulder, eyes dark and gleaming.
“They’re almost here,” she says.
You blink. “They?”
Karina approaches you again and sits on your lap, settling her weight fully onto your thighs. It's instant fire. Her warmth seeps through your pants, directly against the hardness already straining there, a painful, thrilling pressure. Her hands find your shoulders, fingers digging in just slightly, claiming the space.
"So," she starts, leaning closer, her breath ghosting over your ear. "About... that night. My little freakout."
You swallow, eyes locked on the curve of her neck, the faint pulse beating there.
"You're not the only one who knows about... well. Your impressive little toy downstairs."
A blush creeps up your neck. Toy? Little? It feels anything but little right now, jammed against her ass.
"W-what? Who else—"
"Shhh," she cuts you off, a finger tapping your lips. "No need to be ashamed. Not anymore. In fact..." Her lips curve into that slow, knowing smile you saw downstairs, the one that felt like she held all the cards. "It kinda got... rushed straight into my friend group."
Heat flares through you, hotter than the alcohol buzz. The drink, whatever it is, makes everything feel ten times more intense. Your cock gives a hard throb against her, impossible to hide.
"I... I don't think I get it, Jimin," you stammer out, feeling small under her gaze, even though she's the one practically draped over you.
"You will," she murmurs. "Soon. Very soon."
Right on cue, a crisp ding-dong echoes through the apartment. The doorbell.
Karina lifts herself off your lap with infuriating grace, smoothing down her skirt. The sudden absence of her weight makes your erection ache. She glances towards the door, then back at you, a quick, almost apologetic flicker in her eyes before it's replaced by resolve.
"Showtime," she mouths, then turns and strides towards the entrance.
The lock clicks. The heavy door swings inward. And suddenly, the spacious living room feels crowded. Three figures step inside, bringing a wave of expensive perfume and overwhelming presence. Towering over Karina, towering over you.
Wonyoung is first, draped in a long, dramatic beige trench coat that swamps her frame but somehow still looks regal. Her expression is pure, unfiltered impatience, lips pursed into a perfect pout. Beside her, Yuna practically spills out of a tiny black leather tube top and matching micro-skirt, fishnets snaking up her long legs, a predatory grin already fixed on you. And then there's Sullyoon, looking almost angelic in a white lace corset top and ridiculously short pleated skirt, but her wide, curious eyes dart nervously between you, Karina, and Wonyoung, clutching a small designer handbag. They’re all impossibly beautiful. And impossibly tall.
You just swallow, hard, sinking back into the plush velvet of the couch. Your brain short-circuits. Four K-pop goddesses. In the same room. Looking at you.
"Finally," Wonyoung mutters, tapping an expensively manicured finger against her arm, not even bothering to hide her irritation. "Took long enough."
Karina closes the door, turning back to the group, her hostess smile firmly in place, though you see the slight tension in her shoulders. "Girls, this is the guy I was talking about. You... probably already know who they are, right?" she directs the last part at you, a weak attempt at normalcy.
You nod dumbly, unable to form words.
Wonyoung's sharp eyes rake over you, from your hair down to your feet. A dismissive little sniff escapes her.
"Huh. You're even smaller in person," she remarks, sounding unimpressed. She glances sharply at Karina. "Are you sure about this, Jimin?"
Karina nods quickly. "Yes. Positive."
Wonyoung just hums, unconvinced. Then, with fluid nonchalance, she reaches up and undoes the belt of her trench coat. The fabric falls open. Underneath, she's wearing nothing but a scandalous black lace lingerie set; push-up bra showcasing perfect cleavage, matching high-waisted panties emphasizing her tiny waist and long legs, held up by intricate garter straps. She absolutely came prepared. Your mouth goes dry.
Karina turns back to you, offering a hand. "Come on, stand up."
Your legs feel shaky. The bulge in your pants is painfully obvious now, throbbing in time with the frantic beat in your chest. You take her hand, letting her pull you to your feet. You feel like a child standing among them.
Wonyoung's gaze flicks down to your crotch, then back up, a flicker of something – interest? Disdain? – in her eyes. "Did he already drink?” she asks Karina, nodding towards the empty glass on the coffee table.
"Yep. All of it," Karina confirms.
Your head snaps towards Karina, sudden alarm cutting through the horny haze. "Drink what? What are you talking about?"
Karina laughs nervously, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, it's nothing serious! Just a little something... to help you keep up. You know." She gestures vaguely at the three other women staring at you. "Four girls is no joke, right? Need stamina!"
"You... you literally drugged me?"
“Drugging is a very strong word!” she retorts, laughing nervously. “Look at you, conscious and healthy! What you drank was just an aphrodisiac, totally harmless.. and natural too.”
Yuna lets out a delighted giggle, covering her mouth with perfectly painted nails. "Aw, look at him. He's finally catching on!"
"Is... is what I think is going to happen... actually going to happen?" you ask Karina.
Wonyoung steps forward, silencing Karina before she can answer. She stops right in front of you, close enough you can smell the sweet, powdery scent of her skin beneath the perfume.
"If what you're thinking," Wonyoung states, her tone flat and bored, "is that you're about to get used like a personal dildo by four incredibly hot girls who are way out of your league... then yes. You are absolutely right."
Your breath hitches. Before you can process, Wonyoung gives a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Immediately, Yuna and Sullyoon are flanking you. Strong hands grip your arms, surprisingly firm. Yuna's touch is confident, almost playful; Sullyoon's is hesitant but locks on tight. You flinch, trying instinctively to pull away, a pathetic little struggle.
"Hey, relax," Karina says quickly, stepping closer, her expression pleading. "Just... go with it. It'll be fun."
Fun? Your head is spinning, your body is on fire, and four idols are manhandling you after drugging you. But fuck, the dominant way Wonyoung is looking at you, the hungry glint in Yuna's eyes, even Sullyoon's wide-eyed curiosity... it's terrifyingly hot.
Wonyoung reaches out, her long fingers landing on the button of your jeans. Her touch is cool, deliberate.
"Alright," she announces, her gaze fixed on your crotch. "Let's see if Jimin was telling the truth, or if she just has a really weird memory of high school dick."
Her fingers work quickly, expertly. The button pops. The zipper slides down. Before you can even react, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of your jeans and boxers together and yanks them down past your hips, down your thighs, letting them pool around your ankles.
Your cock springs free, fully, violently hard. It bounces heavily against your lower belly, thick and veiny and flushed a deep, angry red from the drug and the sheer, overwhelming arousal. Ten and a half inches of raw, improbable meat jutting out from your otherwise skinny frame.
Yuna gasps, her eyes widening comically. Sullyoon makes a tiny choking sound, her grip tightening on your arm as her gaze locks onto it, mesmerized. Even Karina lets out a soft, breathy sound, her eyes glued to your erection.
"Wow," Karina whispers, sounding genuinely awed. "Okay... maybe it is even bigger than I remembered."
Only Wonyoung remains utterly impassive. Her face is a mask of cool appraisal, like she's judging a piece of art. Or livestock. She studies it for a long moment, then, without warning, her hand closes around the base. Her grip is strong, cool. She gives it a few slow, deliberate strokes, thumb pressing firmly against the thick vein running down the shaft.
A strangled moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips buck involuntarily.
"Is this it?" Wonyoung asks coolly, still stroking, her eyes meeting yours. "Is this fully hard? Or does it get bigger?"
"Y-yes," you gasp out, eyes squeezed shut. "That's... that's it."
Wonyoung stops stroking. She clicks her tongue. "Hm. Well then." She looks directly at Karina, her expression hardening. "We have a problem."
She bends slightly, reaching into an inner pocket of her fallen trench coat. You tense, wondering what the hell she's doing now. She straightens up holding... a sleek, metallic ruler.
"Wait, Wonyoung, are you seriously—" Karina starts, aghast.
"Of course I am," Wonyoung snaps, cutting her off. She kneels slightly, holding the ruler flat against the top side of your shaft, pressing the end firmly against your pubic bone. Her fingers are cold against your heated skin. You flinch, utterly humiliated, but Yuna and Sullyoon hold you fast. Wonyoung squints at the measurement.
"Ten... point five," she announces. She stands up straight, glaring daggers at Karina. "Ten and a half inches. You liar."
Karina shrinks back slightly. "What?"
"You told me," Wonyoung accuses, poking a finger towards Karina, "that it was bigger than my bodyguard's. You specifically said bigger than the bodyguard. He's twelve inches, Jimin! Twelve! This isn't even close!"
"I... I haven't seen it in years!" Karina defends herself frantically, blushing furiously. "It was dark, and it happened so fast! I was scared! It looked bigger back then, I swear! I thought it was enormous!"
Wonyoung rolls her eyes dramatically. "Disappointing. Utterly disappointing."
"Oh my god, Wonyoung, stop being so dramatic!" Yuna cuts in, finally letting go of your arm to reach down and cup your heavy balls possessively. Sullyoon mirrors her, her hesitant hand closing around the thick shaft just below Wonyoung's earlier grip. Their combined touch sends sparks through your system. "Who cares if it's not twelve inches? Look at this thing!" Yuna gives your balls a gentle squeeze. "It's still incredibly big. And so thick! We can have plenty of fun with this." Her eyes meet yours, hot and challenging. "Right? I'm already getting wet just holding him."
Sullyoon nods eagerly, running a tentative finger over the smooth head, her eyes wide with fascination. "Yeah, Wonyoung. It's... it's really amazing."
Wonyoung sighs, a long-suffering sound, but her eyes linger on the sheer girth of your cock, now being eagerly handled by the other two. "Fine," she concedes grudgingly. "It is impressively thick, I'll give you that. It might be good for something after all." She pauses, then pins Karina with a sharp look. "But you still lied. And liars need to be punished."
Karina swallows hard, nervousness flashing across her features again. "Punished? How?"
"You'll see," Wonyoung says cryptically. She turns her attention back to you, dismissing Karina entirely. "You. Finish taking off your clothes. Now. And get in the bedroom." She gestures vaguely towards a door down the hall. "I don't have all night."
Without waiting for a response, Wonyoung turns on her heel, her lingerie-clad form disappearing towards the indicated room, the trench coat abandoned on the floor.
Yuna leans in close, her hot breath fanning your ear. "You heard the princess. Hurry up," she whispers, then plants a quick, wet kiss on your cheek before releasing your balls and following Wonyoung.
Sullyoon gives your aching cock one last, surprisingly firm squeeze, her eyes flicking up to meet yours with a mixture of shyness and burgeoning excitement. Then she too lets go and scurries after the others, leaving you standing there alone in the middle of the luxurious living room.
Your pants are around your ankles, your shirt is still on, your monster erection is throbbing painfully in the open air, slick with pre-cum and the lingering touch of three different idols. Your head spins from the drug, the humiliation, the sheer terror, and the undeniable, overwhelming wave of horniness flooding your system. What the fuck just happened? And what the fuck happens next? You stand frozen, caught somewhere between wanting to run and wanting to crawl into that bedroom immediately. Obviously, driven by a total lack of shame and an unbearable horniness, combined with no sense of self-preservation, you choose the second option.
Fuck it. You kick off your fallen pants and boxers fully, leaving them in a pathetic heap on the expensive floor, and start walking towards the bedroom door Wonyoung vanished through. Your bare feet pad silently on the cool hardwood.
Karina falls into step beside you, her bare shoulder brushing your arm. You glance sideways at her, the mix of betrayal and horniness churning in your gut.
"You lied to me," you state. "The whole time. Downstairs. In the car."
She flinches slightly but keeps walking, her gaze fixed on the bedroom door ahead. "Okay, technically... maybe a little bit by omission?"
"A little bit?" you scoff, feeling a hysterical laugh bubble up. "You drugged me, Jimin! You set me up to be... to be some kind of human dildo for your idol friends!"
"Hey!" she protests, stopping for a second. "I did want to see you again. Honestly. That part wasn't a lie." She searches your face, her expression earnest, though it's hard to trust anything she says right now. "Things just got... complicated. And Wonyoung kinda insisted after I... might have mentioned you."
"Mentioned me? Or mentioned this?" you gesture vaguely downwards at your still stubbornly rigid cock.
"Both?" she offers weakly.
You shake your head, feeling dizzy again. "It's kinda hard to believe anything you say right now."
You reach the bedroom doorway and hesitate, peering inside. The room is huge, dominated by a massive bed with a dark grey headboard and way too many pillows. Soft light glows from hidden fixtures. Yuna and Sullyoon are near the foot of the bed, casually shedding their clothes. Yuna unhooks her leather top with a flourish, letting it drop to reveal a simple, strappy black bra that barely contains her curves. Sullyoon is more methodical, carefully folding her pleated skirt before unzipping the back of her lace corset, revealing matching white lace panties and a push-up bra that gives her an impressive silhouette. They’re both practically glowing with confidence, completely unbothered by your presence.
Karina gently pushes you forward, over the threshold. She reaches up and pulls her sheer blouse over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it onto a nearby armchair. Her bra is pale pink lace, elegant but functional, doing its best to support her surprisingly full, pale breasts. They swell invitingly over the delicate fabric, nipples visibly hard beneath the lace. You can't help but stare for a beat, remembering the feel of them pressed against your chest years ago.
She catches you looking and gives a small, self-conscious smile before starting to unzip her skirt. It slides down her legs, pooling around her knee-high boots before she finally takes them off. Underneath, she wears matching pink lace panties. "Your turn," she prompts, nodding towards your shirt. "Unless you want Wonyoung to rip it off you."
The thought is strangely appealing, but you comply, pulling your t-shirt over your head and tossing it vaguely towards hers. Now you're standing there in just your socks, utterly exposed.
"So..." you begin, looking between the four women, feeling incredibly out of place and ridiculously turned on. "What... uh... what happens now?"
"Now?" Wonyoung's drawl comes from the bed. You see her lounging against the pillows, still in her black lingerie, legs crossed, watching you with predatory amusement. "Now the fun begins, tiny."
Wonyoung slides off the bed with feline grace. Yuna and Sullyoon turn from their discarded clothes, their eyes immediately locking onto your cock again. Together, the three of them approach, moving with unnerving synchronicity. They stop a few feet away, then slowly, deliberately, sink to their knees in front of you. Three pairs of stunning eyes staring intently at your dick. It’s like some weird, terrifyingly hot religious ceremony.
Karina takes a step forward, starting to kneel beside them, but Wonyoung shoots her a look sharp enough to cut glass.
"Ah-ah," Wonyoung chides, clicking her tongue. "Not you. Not yet."
Karina freezes, her cheeks flushing slightly. She straightens up quickly, looking uncertain. After a moment's hesitation, she steps beside you instead, looping an arm comfortingly around your shoulders, pulling you slightly against her side. Her skin is warm. She leans in and presses a soft, quick kiss to your temple.
"Just breathe," she whispers, her lips brushing your ear. "Try to enjoy it?"
Enjoy it? Your heart is trying to beat its way out of your chest, but as Wonyoung reaches out, followed immediately by Yuna and Sullyoon, their hands hovering just inches from your shaft, a low groan rumbles in your chest.
Wonyoung's fingers, cool and clinical, land first. She wraps them around the base again, testing the weight, her thumb tracing the thick vein. Yuna goes straight for the head, her touch surprisingly bold as she wets a fingertip with her tongue and circles the sensitive tip, making you gasp. Sullyoon hesitates for only a second before tentatively cupping your heavy balls, her touch feather-light at first, then growing firmer as she seems to gain confidence.
"Holy shit," Yuna breathes out, her eyes wide as she keeps teasing the head of your cock. "It's like... holding a fucking baseball bat. But, like, a really nice, warm baseball bat."
Sullyoon giggles nervously, her fingers exploring the taut skin of your scrotum. "It doesn't even look real up close. How does this even fit on someone?"
Wonyoung ignores them, focusing her attention on the shaft, running her other hand slowly up and down its length, mapping the texture, the heat. "Forget the length," she murmurs, almost to herself. "The girth on this thing... Now this is interesting." She squeezes slightly, eliciting another strangled sound from you. "Definitely something to work with."
Karina's arm tightens around your shoulders, a silent signal of... support? Apology? Shared anticipation? You can barely think straight, trapped between her comforting presence and the overwhelming sensation of three gorgeous idols worshipping your freakishly large dick like it's the eighth wonder of the world. Your knees feel weak, the room spins gently, and all you can focus on is the heat building low in your belly, spiraling outwards from their exploring hands.
Wonyoung maintains her grip on the base, anchoring you, while her tongue makes slow, deliberate laps around the thickest part of the shaft, pressing hard. It's methodical, almost analytical, but feels incredible. Yuna, giggling, dives lower, taking one of your heavy balls fully into her mouth, sucking strongly while her other hand playfully squeezes its twin. You cry out, hips jerking, hands clenching into fists at your sides. Sullyoon, seeming to take her cue from Yuna, mimics the action on your other ball, her technique less practiced but no less enthusiastic, her cheeks hollowing with the effort.
"Mmmph," Yuna hums around your ball, her eyes sparkling up at you. "So salty. You taste good."
Sullyoon nods vigorously, her mouth still full.
Karina's arm tightens around your shoulders. You can feel the slight tremor running through her. "God," she breathes out, her gaze fixed on the scene below. "Look at them..."
Wonyoung lifts her head slightly, her lips glistening. "Alright, girls, new plan." Her tone is all business, but there's a dark spark in her eyes. "I need him really wet. Like, dripping. Slobber him up properly. I have plans for all that lube later."
Yuna pulls off your ball with a wet pop. "Ooh, bossy Wonyoung! My favorite!" She winks, then immediately latches onto the mid-shaft, sucking hard and deep, making deliberately sloppy noises. "You want drool? You got drool, princess!"
Sullyoon, blushing furiously but clearly eager to please, releases your other ball and joins Yuna on the shaft, her mouth smaller but working just as diligently, their tongues occasionally bumping. It's a hot, messy tangle of lips and saliva coating your straining cock.
Wonyoung watches them for a second, a critical glint in her eyes, before lowering her head again, her tongue darting out to flick teasingly at the sensitive underside, right where the shaft meets your balls. You groan, head tipping back against Karina's shoulder.
"Oh my god," Karina whispers, her own breathing quickening. She leans her cheek against your hair. "Are you... are you okay? Are you enjoying this?"
Is she serious? Your brain is soup, your body is humming like a live wire, and three of the most beautiful women on the planet are tag-teaming your dick like it owes them money.
"F-fuck," you manage to gasp out, legs trembling. "Y-yes? Maybe? God, Jimin, it's..." You can't finish. Another wave of pleasure crashes over you as Yuna somehow manages to take even more of you into her throat, her hand pumping the base in time with her sucking. Pre-cum beads thickly at the tip, immediately licked away by Sullyoon's inquisitive tongue.
"He likes it!" Sullyoon announces proudly through a mouthful of spit and dick.
"Course he likes it, dummy," Yuna retorts, pulling back just enough to talk. "Look at him! Leaking like a faucet already. We're doing a great job making him nice and slippery for Wonyoung's mysterious plans." She gives Wonyoung a suggestive look.
Wonyoung just smirks, her tongue still tracing lazy circles near your balls. "Focus, Yuna. More spit. Less talk."
"Yes, ma'am!" Yuna salutes mockingly, then dives back in, somehow managing to sound even wetter this time. Sullyoon follows suit, their combined efforts painting your cock in thick, glistening ropes of saliva. The wet sucking sounds fill the room, punctuated by your helpless moans and the occasional giggle from Yuna or encouragement from Karina.
"Damn," Karina murmurs again, her fingers tightening on your shoulder. "You really are... something else." She sounds genuinely impressed, and maybe a little turned on herself. You feel a bead of sweat trickle down your temple, the heat in the room, or maybe just in your own body, becoming almost unbearable. This is insane. It's degrading. It's terrifying.
And fuck, you hope they don't stop anytime soon.
"More," Wonyoung demands, her own mouth leaving your balls for a moment to issue the order. "I want him practically drowning in it. Yuna, Sullyoon, don't be shy with the spit."
Yuna grins wickedly around your shaft. "You hear that, Sullyoonie? Permission to be absolutely disgusting!" She pulls back slightly, gathers saliva in her mouth (you can literally hear it) and then leans in, letting a thick, clear stream drizzle directly onto the head of your cock. It mixes with the pre-cum already leaking there, creating a pearly mess. "How's that, boss?"
"Better," Wonyoung approves, nodding slightly. She then looks pointedly at Sullyoon. "Your turn."
Sullyoon hesitates for only a split second, blushing scarlet, before copying Yuna. Her spit is maybe a little less voluminous, but she makes up for it with enthusiasm, adding another layer of wetness. You groan loudly, bucking against their mouths as the warm liquid coats you. It feels unbelievably degrading and yet insanely hot.
"Oh my god, they're actually spitting on it," Karina whispers beside you, sounding both horrified and utterly captivated. "Is that... does that feel okay?"
"F-Feels..." you gasp, trying to catch your breath. "Feels fucking weird! Good weird! Fuck!"
"Language," Wonyoung chides absently, though she doesn't sound genuinely annoyed. She seems focused on the task at hand. She uses her fingers to smear the combined spit and pre-cum all over the shaft, ensuring every inch is glistening under the soft bedroom lights. "See? Nice and slick. Almost ready."
"Ready for what?" Yuna asks playfully, her tongue now lapping up the excess spit near the base, her cheeks puffed out. "You gonna use him as a slip-n-slide?"
Wonyoung ignores her. "Tip duty. Both of you," she commands Yuna and Sullyoon.
They obey instantly. Sullyoon’s smaller tongue darts out, carefully tracing the ridge of the corona, while Yuna goes straight for the slit, flicking her tongue rapidly over the hypersensitive opening, drawing out even more pre-cum. Their tongues brush, slide over each other, working in tandem to worship the very head of your cock. It’s an agonizingly precise torture.
"Mmm, look how much pre-cum he's making," Sullyoon murmurs, her eyes wide with fascination. "It tastes good."
"Told ya," Yuna slurps, managing to get her lips around the entire glans for a moment, sucking hard before releasing it with another wet pop. "He's like a leaky faucet of man-juice. Keep licking, Sullyoon, let's make it nice and shiny."
They continue their ministrations, tongues swirling, lapping, occasionally flicking out to catch stray drips running down the shaft. Wonyoung watches critically, occasionally adding a guiding touch with her finger or a low hum of approval. Karina is practically vibrating beside you now, her hand gripping your shoulder tightly, her knuckles white. You can feel her shallow, rapid breaths against your neck.
The combined stimulation is relentless. Your toes curl, your back arches off the floor slightly, supported only by Karina's arm. A high-pitched whine escapes your throat. You feel dangerously close, the pressure building low and deep, coiling tight in your balls.
Just as you think you might actually lose it, Wonyoung gives a sharp nod. "Okay. Enough."
Yuna and Sullyoon pull back simultaneously, leaving your cock absolutely drenched, glistening obscenely, thick ropes of saliva and pre-cum dripping onto the floor. It stands there, twitching slightly, impossibly hard and looking utterly debauched.
Wonyoung leans back on her heels, surveying their handiwork with a critical eye. A small, satisfied smirk touches her lips. "Acceptable," she declares finally. Then, her gaze shifts, sharp and imperious, landing squarely on Karina, who is still holding you up, looking flushed and breathless from watching.
"Karina," Wonyoung commands, her tone leaving no room for argument. "On your knees. Now.”
Karina practically beams, relief washing over her face as she drops eagerly to her knees before you, eyes fixed on your glistening, spit-slicked cock. She clearly thinks it’s finally her turn, leaning forward slightly, lips parting in anticipation. Oh, how wrong she is.
Wonyoung watches her kneel with a predatory stillness, letting the hope bloom on Karina’s face for a torturous second before shattering it.
"What do you think you're doing?" Wonyoung asks, her tone deceptively soft.
Karina blinks, confused. "I'm... you told me to kneel?" Her gaze flickers towards your cock, then back to Wonyoung, clearly expecting the order to suck.
"Yes. Kneel for your punishment," Wonyoung corrects coolly. "For lying to me about the merchandise." She gestures towards your erection with a flick of her wrist. "You don't get to taste it yet. First, you pay the price for exaggerating."
Karina's hopeful expression evaporates, replaced by wide-eyed confusion, then dawning fear. "Punishment? Wait, what—"
Beside her, Yuna claps a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Sullyoon tries to stifle a giggle behind her hand, her eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. They clearly knew this was coming.
"H-how... how are you going to punish me?" Karina stammers, looking genuinely scared now.
Wonyoung's lips curl into a cruel, slow smile. "With this," she declares, and before Karina can react, Wonyoung reaches out, her hand closing firmly around the base of your thick, dripping cock. She lifts it slightly, like she’s hefting a weapon. Then, with a swift, deliberate motion, she swings it sideways, slapping the wet, heavy shaft right across Karina’s cheek.
The sound is shockingly loud, wet and fleshy. Karina cries out, head snapping to the side from the impact, a bright red mark instantly blooming on her pale skin, smeared with your spit and pre-cum.
Yuna and Sullyoon absolutely lose it, bursting into loud laughter, clutching each other for support.
"Oh my god! She actually did it!" Yuna howls between giggles.
Wonyoung ignores them, her focus entirely on Karina’s stunned, reddening face. "Rule number one, Jimin: Don't bullshit me about dick size," she states calmly. "Since you were off by almost two inches, but we'll round down... let's make it ten hits. One for every lovely, thick inch he actually has." She adjusts her grip on your shaft, preparing for the next swing.
The sensation is… bizarre. Jarring at first, then this strange, intense vibration travels up the shaft with each impact, making your cock throb pleasurably. You stand there, rooted to the spot, watching Wonyoung use your own dick to punish Karina.
SMACK! "One," Wonyoung counts, hitting the other cheek this time. Karina whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut but holding her position.
SMACK! "Two." Another wet impact, leaving another glistening smear.
SMACK! "Three." Karina lets out a low moan this time, a sound that’s halfway between pain and something else. Her hands clench into fists on her thighs.
SMACK! "Four." Your cock feels incredibly sensitive, the repeated slapping friction oddly satisfying against the wetness. It feels… good. Way better than it should.
"Look at her face!" Sullyoon squeals, pointing. "It's all red and shiny!"
SMACK! "Five." Wonyoung delivers this one harder, snapping Karina’s head back slightly. A tear escapes the corner of Karina's eye, but the soft sigh that follows it sounds suspiciously like pleasure.
Fuck, is she actually getting off on this?
"Damn, Wonyoung, you're really going for it," Yuna comments, still chuckling. "Can we have a turn? Please? It looks fun! Like that baseball bat I mentioned!"
Wonyoung pauses after the fifth hit, considering Yuna's request while keeping a firm grip on your throbbing shaft. Karina uses the moment to take a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes still closed, face flushed and marked.
"Fine," Wonyoung concedes with a shrug. "But don't mess up the count. Five more hits."
Yuna squeals with delight and practically lunges forward, grabbing your cock just below Wonyoung's hand. Sullyoon eagerly joins in, her smaller hands closing around the shaft as well. They wield it together, a combined grip that feels incredibly tight and encompassing.
"Our turn, Jimin!" Yuna chirps happily. "Ready for the big leagues?"
Karina nods mutely, bracing herself.
SMACK! Yuna and Sullyoon swing together, their combined force making the impact even heavier. "Six!" Yuna yells gleefully.
SMACK! "Seven!" Sullyoon shouts, getting into the spirit. The wet slap echoes in the room. Karina moans louder this time, a definite note of arousal in the sound now, her hips shifting slightly on the floor.
SMACK! "Eight!" They're literally using your dick like a club, and the friction, the impact, the sheer humiliation of the scene it's pushing you closer to the edge again. Your cock feels impossibly hard, straining against their tight grips between hits.
SMACK! "Nine!" Karina's breathing is harsh now, her lips parted, another tear tracking through the smear of spit on her cheek, but her eyes, when they flutter open for a second, look hazy and aroused.
"Last one!" Yuna announces. They swing back for momentum—
SMACK! "Ten!" The final hit lands solidly, leaving Karina panting, her face a mess of red marks and glistening wetness, looking utterly wrecked and undeniably horny.
Yuna and Sullyoon release you abruptly, stepping back and admiring their handiwork, giggling like schoolgirls. Your cock springs free, still dripping, throbbing from the repeated impacts, feeling incredibly sensitive and somehow even harder than before.
Karina stays kneeling on the expensive rug, her face still flushed, marked with the fading red impressions from your own dick. Her eyes, though, they aren't filled with pain or anger anymore. They're locked onto your cock, still dripping thick ropes of spit and pre-cum onto the floor, throbbing from the abuse it just dished out.
"Wony... please," Karina asks, her eyes flickering up to the dominant girl who stands observing like a bored queen. "Can I... Can I clean him up? Please? Just let me taste it."
Wonyoung taps a long, perfectly manicured finger against her chin, pretending to mull it over. The silence stretches, Yuna and Sullyoon watch with barely concealed amusement, clearly enjoying Karina's predicament.
"Hmmmm," Wonyoung hums, drawing out the moment. "Let me think..." She pauses dramatically. "No."
The single word hits Karina like another slap. Her face falls, hope instantly extinguished, replaced by stinging disappointment. She looks down, biting her lip hard.
"Maybe later," Wonyoung adds dismissively, like tossing a scrap to a dog. "If you're a good girl. But first, I need to see if this... thing... is actually any good. Can't have substandard equipment tarnishing my reputation, can we?" She turns that cool, appraising gaze back to you, dismissing Karina entirely. "If I don't like it, Jimin," she says, deliberately using Karina's real name, "then you are royally screwed. Understand?"
Karina just nods mutely, looking utterly dejected.
"You," Wonyoung commands, pointing a sharp finger at you. "Bed. Now."
Your body feels disconnected from your brain. Part of you wants to bolt, to run screaming from this luxurious nightmare penthouse. But the aphrodisiac humming in your veins, combined with the overwhelming presence of these four women and the undeniable, terrifying arousal Wonyoung sparks in you, roots you to the spot. You hesitate, muscles locking up.
Before you can make a conscious decision, Yuna and Sullyoon are grabbing your arms again. Their initial playful exploration is gone, replaced by a firm, almost rough grip. They practically drag you across the room, your bare feet stumbling slightly on the plush carpet. They don't exactly throw you, but they guide you firmly onto the enormous bed, pushing you down until you're lying flat on your back amidst the sea of expensive pillows and crisp grey duvet. The mattress sinks slightly under your weight.
You lie there, utterly exposed, your erection jutting towards the ceiling like some obscene monument. The humiliation burns, but fuck, so does the heat pooling in your gut. The three of them (Wonyoung, Yuna, Sullyoon) climb onto the bed with predatory grace, surrounding you. Karina lingers near the foot of the bed, looking lost and unsure, still just in her pink lace bra and panties, hugging herself slightly.
Wonyoung positions herself directly between your legs, kneeling over you. She reaches down, grabbing your ankles and pulling your legs further apart, forcing you into an even more vulnerable position. Her eyes rake over your cock with that same critical appraisal, as if deciding where to start.
"Alright, let's see," she murmurs, almost to herself. Wonyoung puts her panties aside, then she reaches out, her fingers wrapping around the base, cool and clinical. Then, slowly, deliberately, she guides the thick, slick head towards her own entrance. You watch, breathless, as she tries to position herself, biting her lip slightly in concentration. Her pussy looks impossibly tight, incredibly intimidating compared to the sheer girth she's trying to take.
She lowers herself slowly, carefully. There's a sharp intake of breath, her eyes squeezing shut for a second as the head breaches her entrance. A low hiss escapes her lips.
"Fuck," Wonyoung grits out. "Okay. Wow. The thickness is really something else."
She stops, only the head and maybe an inch or two inside her. She breathes deeply, trying to relax, her hands braced on your chest. You can feel the muscles inside her clenching tightly around you, resisting the invasion.
"Just... give me a second," she mutters, more to herself than to you. She takes another slow breath and pushes down again, harder this time. A strangled gasp tears from her throat, her back arching slightly. She manages another inch, maybe two. The friction is intense, almost unbearable for both of you. You can feel every ridge, every vein of your cock scraping against her impossibly tight walls.
"See?" she pants, forcing a strained smile as she looks up at you. "Told you... I could handle it."
She starts to move then, tentative at first. Tiny, almost imperceptible shifts of her hips, trying to ease herself further down onto your length. Each small movement sends jolts of raw pleasure through you, but it's mixed with the undeniable sight of her pain. Her face is screwed up in concentration, sweat beading on her forehead.
"God, it... it kinda hurts," she admits through clenched teeth, pausing her movements. "But..." A different kind of noise escapes her then, a low moan that's equal parts pain and dawning pleasure. "...But it also feels... fuck, it feels kinda good, too. Stretching me out like this."
She starts moving again, a little bolder now, lifting herself slightly before sinking back down, taking a fraction more of you each time. The initial pain seems to be giving way, replaced by the friction, the sheer fullness. You can see the shift in her expression, the tight lines of discomfort slowly melting into something hotter, needier. She's managed to take maybe five, six inches now; just over half your length, but already filling her completely.
"Okay," Wonyoung breathes out, her rhythm becoming more confident, a slow, steady grind. "Okay, I see the appeal." Her eyes flick towards Yuna and Sullyoon, who are watching the scene with rapt attention. "This girth... it hits different."
Then, her gaze drops back to you, and the cruelty returns, sharp and sudden. "Look at you," she sneers as she continues her slow, torturous ride. "Just lying there. Taking it. Like a good little freak."
"Letting me just... use you," she continues, picking up the pace slightly, her moans starting to mingle with her insults. "Because that's all you're good for, isn't it? With a dick like that on a body like yours? You're just a fucking toy. A novelty. Something to be passed around and used up when we're bored." She leans down, her face close to yours, her eyes cold. "You have no dignity, do you? Just a pathetic little fucktoy waiting for orders."
You flinch, turning your head away, shame warring with the undeniable arousal her words, her movements, are stirring in you. A low sound escapes your throat, a mix between a whimper and a groan.
Wonyoung laughs, a harsh, satisfied sound. "Oh, you like that? Being put in your place?"
Beside the bed, Yuna and Sullyoon are practically vibrating with excitement. The sight of Wonyoung dominating you, humiliating you, is clearly turning them on immensely. Yuna reaches out, her fingers fumbling with the clasp of Sullyoon's white lace bra. Sullyoon gasps softly but doesn't stop her, instead leaning in to press a kiss to Yuna's shoulder as the bra falls away, revealing her surprisingly full, pale breasts, nipples already hard. Yuna moans, her hands immediately cupping Sullyoon's chest, thumbs circling the stiff peaks. Sullyoon arches her back, pushing into Yuna's touch, her eyes fluttering shut as Yuna leans down to suckle one nipple greedily. They start touching each other, slow, sensual caresses, lost in their own world but clearly fueled by the scene playing out on the bed.
You can't help it, your hands start to move, wanting to grip Wonyoung's hips, wanting some semblance of control, some way to push back against the humiliation, to match the intensity of her ride. But the second your fingers brush her skin, her hand flashes out, slapping you hard across the face.
It hurts. A lot.
The force of it snaps your head to the side, your cheek stinging instantly. Stars explode behind your eyes.
"Don't touch me unless I tell you to!" Wonyoung orders sharply. "Just lie there and do what you're told, toy. Be useful."
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, from the slap, the humiliation, the sheer overwhelming nature of it all. You nod mutely, letting your hands fall limply to your sides. You obey. Because what else can you do?
Karina, who has been watching all this unfold from the foot of the bed, her face a mixture of arousal, pity, and fear, finally speaks up. Her voice is small, hesitant. "Wony... maybe... maybe take it easy on him? He's..."
Wonyoung cuts her off with a venomous glare, pausing her rhythmic grinding on your cock just long enough to snap, "Shut the fuck up, Jimin." Her voice is ice. "Did I say you could talk? No. You're lucky you're even in this room after lying to me." She gestures dismissively towards Karina's chest. "Now take off that fucking bra, whore. I want those big pale tits of yours out. Now."
Karina flinches as if struck, but the order, the sudden harsh attention, also seems to ignite something in her. A flicker of desperation, a need to please, to get back in Wonyoung's good graces (or maybe just to feel something other than sidelined). Without another word, her hands move to her back, fumbling slightly with the clasp. The pink lace falls away, revealing her own full, pale breasts, nipples tight and dark against her skin. She keeps her eyes down, looking utterly miserable yet strangely defiant.
Wonyoung gives a grunt of approval, then immediately resumes riding you, harder now, her moans mixing with yours. Your own moan escapes, louder this time, raw with the conflicting mess of pain, humiliation, and overwhelming pleasure. You can't help it; despite everything, despite the slap still stinging your cheek, the sight of Wonyoung grinding down on you, her perfect body moving above yours, is undeniably beautiful.
"Damn, you’re so fucking hot," you groan out, the words ripped from you involuntarily.
Wonyoung pauses for a beat, tilting her head slightly as if she just registered your words through the haze of her own pleasure. A slow, incredibly smug smile spreads across her face.
"I know," she says simply.
Across the room, Yuna lifts her head from Sullyoon's breast, her lips wet. Sullyoon moans softly as Yuna's hand slides between her legs. Yuna's eyes flick between you and Wonyoung, a knowing smirk blooming on her face.
"Oh?" Yuna says, her voice sly. "Looks like our little toy likes being used after all. Likes being treated rough."
Sullyoon giggles breathlessly, nodding in agreement, her eyes also fixed on your reaction. "He really does…”
Wonyoung is definitely having fun now. The initial tightness and discomfort have melted away, replaced by pure, unadulterated pleasure radiating from her face. Her movements are stronger, more demanding, her hips rocking against yours with a practiced rhythm that steals your breath. She throws her head back, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, a genuine, guttural moan ripping from her throat as she grinds down hard, milking another wave of intense friction from your thick shaft.
"Oh, fuck," Wonyoung gasps out, her eyes half-lidded, glazed with pleasure. "Okay, okay... this is... goddamn... the thickness is insane. It feels... holy shit." She grips your hips tighter, digging her perfectly manicured nails into your skin, leveraging herself for deeper strokes. "Forget the length, this girth..." she groans again, riding you with renewed vigor. "It fills me up completely. Hits everything."
Karina, still standing nearby with her bra discarded, sees her opening. Her eyes light up with a desperate need for validation, latching onto Wonyoung's praise like a lifeline.
"See?" Karina blurts out, stepping closer to the bed, her voice hopeful. "See, Wony? I told you! I told you it was amazing! I knew you'd like it!"
Wonyoung's eyes snap open. She glares daggers at Karina, her rhythm faltering slightly.
"Shut up, Jimin," Wonyoung snaps. "Don't interrupt me when I'm busy. And don't think a lucky guess about the thickness makes up for you lying about the size. You said twelve inches. You lied."
Karina shrinks back, wilting under the glare. "I didn't lie!" she protests weakly, twisting her hands together. "I just... I remembered it wrong! It was years ago! I made a mistake!"
"A convenient mistake," Wonyoung scoffs, but her attention is already shifting. A wicked glint enters her eyes as she looks Karina up and down, lingering on her bare chest. "Fine. You want to be useful? Bring those big tits over here. Right now."
Karina hesitates for only a fraction of a second, glancing nervously at you, then back at Wonyoung. The desperation to please, to be included, wins out. She quickly climbs onto the bed, kneeling beside Wonyoung, carefully avoiding touching you. She leans forward tentatively, offering her chest.
Wonyoung doesn't waste a second. She leans over, still impaling you, and captures one of Karina's large, pale nipples between her teeth, sucking hard. Karina cries out, a sharp gasp that's equal parts surprise and pleasure, her back arching instinctively. Wonyoung uses her free hand to mercilessly squeeze Karina's other breast, kneading the soft flesh, pinching the already hard nipple between her thumb and forefinger.
"Mmmph," Wonyoung hums around Karina's nipple, her eyes fluttering shut again as she focuses on the dual sensations: your thick cock stretching her tight cunt, Karina's soft breast filling her mouth. "Okay... gotta admit, Jimin... these are pretty fucking amazing too." She releases the nipple with a wet pop, leaving it glistening and dark red, before latching onto the other one. "So full... so soft..." she murmurs, squeezing the first breast possessively.
Karina is panting now, her face flushed, eyes hazy. She looks utterly wrecked, caught between the intense stimulation and the relief of finally having Wonyoung's attention, even like this.
Yuna, who has paused her ministrations on Sullyoon to watch, lets out a theatrical sigh. Sullyoon is leaning against her, completely bare now, her small breasts flushed, nipples pebbled hard as she watches Wonyoung and Karina with wide, fascinated eyes.
"Ugh, not fair," Yuna whines playfully, cupping her own smaller chest for comparison. "I wish mine were big and squishy like Karina's. Lucky bitch."
Sullyoon nods in agreement, her gaze still fixed on Karina's chest being manhandled by Wonyoung.
Now, the sight is fucking unreal: Wonyoung riding you, her tight pussy gripping your thick cock with every downward thrust, while simultaneously devouring Karina's breast like it's the finest dessert. The combined visual is overwhelmingly hot, your breath hitches, catches, turns into ragged pants that fill the otherwise quiet room (save for Wonyoung's increasingly loud moans and Karina's breathy gasps). You can't help the sounds escaping you, raw groans torn from your throat with every powerful stroke Wonyoung delivers.
"Ah... Fuck... W-Wonyoung... Oh god..."
Wonyoung seems to reach a new peak, her movements becoming frantic, her grip on Karina's breast tightening almost painfully. Karina cries out again, but Wonyoung doesn't seem to notice, lost in her own pleasure. Then, abruptly, the intensity breaks. Wonyoung slows her pace, breathing heavily, sweat glistening on her skin. The sudden change makes your own ragged breathing sound even louder in the relative quiet.
Wonyoung glares down at you, annoyance flashing across her sweat-slicked face. "Ugh, can you stop making so much noise?" she complains, sounding like the spoiled princess she is. "It's distracting. Seriously, shut up." She glances over at the other two girls, who are now just watching, hands idle. "One of you, deal with this. Shut him up. Sit on his face or something. I don't care, just make him quiet."
Yuna and Sullyoon exchange excited glances. Sullyoon looks slightly hesitant, but Yuna grins wickedly.
"Hey! No fair! I wanna do it too!" Sullyoon protests, pouting slightly.
Yuna rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine, drama queen. Rock paper scissors for it? Winner gets to smother him."
Sullyoon nods eagerly. They both hold out their fists.
"Rock! Paper! Scissors! SHOOT!"
Yuna throws paper. Sullyoon throws rock.
"Ha! Yes!" Yuna cheers triumphantly, pumping her fist. "Paper covers rock! Face is mine!"
Sullyoon groans dramatically but doesn't argue further, instead settling back to watch with keen interest. Yuna crawls purposefully towards your head, her movements fluid and confident. She's completely naked now, her lithe body gleaming slightly under the soft lights, her earlier play with Sullyoon having clearly left her thoroughly aroused. She positions herself directly over your face, straddling your neck, her bare pussy hovering just inches above your mouth. You can smell her arousal; musky, salty, intoxicating. She's definitely wet.
Yuna leans down slightly, her dark hair falling around her face, brushing against your cheeks.
"Alright, noise machine," Yuna purrs, lowering herself just enough that her wet folds brush against your lips. "Princess Wonyoung wants you quiet. So you're gonna focus on me now." She shifts her hips, grinding her clit lightly against your mouth. "Open up and eat. And don't stop until I tell you to."
She settles her weight down fully then, pressing her wetness firmly against your mouth and nose. The sensation is overwhelming; the soft pressure, the intimate scent, the taste of her arousal instantly flooding your senses. Wonyoung is still moving on your cock below, a steady, demanding rhythm, her moans starting up again, quieter now. Karina is still kneeling beside her, breasts bare, watching Yuna with wide eyes. Sullyoon is watching everything, touching herself lightly. And Yuna... Yuna is grinding onto your face, demanding your tongue, muffling any sound you might make besides muffled gasps into her flesh.
"That's it," Yuna murmurs. "Lick me, freak. Use that tongue. Make me feel good while Wonyoung breaks you." She moans as your tongue finally finds her clit, flicking against the sensitive nub. "Oh fuck... yeah, right there... Don't stop!”
Across the bed, Sullyoon is completely naked now, lying on her side, propped up on one elbow. Her eyes are wide, dark, fixed on the tangled mess of limbs. Her free hand is working furiously between her own long legs, fingers slick and glistening as she rubs herself, her breath coming in short, sharp pants.
"Oh my god," Sullyoon gasps out, watching Wonyoung slam down onto your cock. "Look how deep she's taking him... Fuck, Karina, she's murdering your tits too..." Her fingers move faster, her knuckles white. "Girls, this is... this is so hot..."
Wonyoung lets out another high, keening moan, throwing her head back again. Her grip on Karina's breast tightens, eliciting a sharp cry from her. Wonyoung doesn't seem to notice, her focus entirely internal now, chasing her own climax.
"Nnngh... Fuck... Almost... almost there..." Wonyoung pants, her words broken. Her hips slam down onto you with punishing force, again and again, driving you deeper into the mattress. The sheer thickness of your cock seems to be exactly what she needs, stretching her, filling her, pushing her closer to the edge. "Fuck... yes..." Wonyoung pants. "God, this girth... it's perfect. Hits me just... ah... right."
Meanwhile, Yuna is making your life a living hell in the best/worst possible way. Her slick cunt grinds relentlessly against your mouth, demanding attention. Your tongue is working frantically, trying to keep up, licking and sucking at her clit as she rides your face like she was born for it. The musky taste of her fills your senses, making your head spin even more than the aphrodisiac already is. Her hands grip the sides of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you firmly in place.
"Lick faster, toy," Yuna commands. "Don't you dare slack off. Make me feel good."
You try to comply, your tongue moving in frantic circles, lapping at the wetness she’s providing. Suddenly, she shifts her weight awkwardly, wobbling slightly. Your hands instinctively shoot up, grabbing her hips to steady her before she can completely fall off balance.
"Nnngh-!" Yuna gasps, surprised by your quick reaction, but she settles back down immediately, grinding even harder against your mouth now that she has your hands supporting her. "Yes! Hold me right there, fucker! That's it! Hold me steady while I ride your face off! Fuck, use that tongue, bitch!"
Watching this chaotic scene, Sullyoon is practically vibrating on the spot. Her hand is a blur between her legs, fingers working her clit with frantic speed. Her face is flushed crimson, eyes wide and glazed, fixed on the tangle of bodies. A thin sheen of sweat covers her skin, and it is possible to see the creamy wetness starting to seep from between her own folds, slicking her fingers.
"Oh my god... oh fuck..." Sullyoon moans. "Wony... Yuna... you guys are so... fuck..."
Even Karina can't resist. Her free hand, the one not being crushed by Wonyoung, creeps down hesitantly at first, fingers brushing against her own damp panties. Seeing Yuna and Sullyoon so lost in pleasure, feeling Wonyoung's mouth still working her nipple, watching you get absolutely used... it's too much. Her fingers slip underneath the lace, finding her own clit, and she starts rubbing herself with small, desperate movements, her breath hitching.
Wonyoung throws her head back again, a loud, piercing moan tearing from her throat as she slams down onto your cock particularly hard, her tight walls milking you intensely.
"Fuck! Yes! Right there! Oh god, I'm... I'm getting close!" she screams. "Fuck, this dick is... magic!"
Yuna hears her and lets out an ecstatic shriek muffled against your lips. "Yes! Wony, yes! Me too! Let's cum together! Fuck!" She picks up her pace, grinding her clit against your tongue so hard it's almost painful, her whole body trembling.
"No! Wait!" Sullyoon cries out from the side, her fingers flying even faster. Her knuckles are white, her breathing ragged. "Wait for me! I'm almost there too! Fuck, please wait!"
Wonyoung laughs, a wild, breathless sound. "Hurry up then, Sullyoonie! Can't hold back much longer!" She leans further onto Karina, her weight pressing down as she continues her relentless ride, her pussy squeezing your cock with punishing intensity. She continues to squeeze Karina’s breast like it’s putty in her hand, twisting the nipple until Karina gasps sharply. "Feel that, Jimin?" Wonyoung taunts breathlessly between moans. "Feel how good he is? Feel what you missed out on because you were too scared?"
Karina just whimpers, her own fingers moving faster between her legs now, chasing her own release despite the humiliation.
"Almost... almost..." Wonyoung pants.
"Fuck... me too... gonna... cum!" Yuna gasps against your mouth.
Then, something shifts. Wonyoung reaches out, her hand finding Yuna's. Their fingers lace together tightly, a strange moment of connection amidst the chaos. They look at each other, eyes locked, faces flushed and identical masks of impending ecstasy.
"Now?" Yuna mouths silently.
Wonyoung nods curtly, then her eyes flick down to you, still filled with that cruel amusement even as she's about to lose control. "Look at you," she spits out between pants. "Just a fucking pole for us to ride. A mouth for us to use. Pathetic little freak, letting us do whatever we want to you." Her hips slam down one last time. "Good boy!"
"WAIT!" Sullyoon screams.
But it's too late.
Wonyoung throws her head back, a raw, guttural scream tearing from her throat as her orgasm crashes over her. Her inner walls clamp down on your cock hard, pulsing violently, milking you intensely. Simultaneously, Yuna lets out a high-pitched wail against your mouth, her hips spasming uncontrollably as she comes hard, her juices flooding your tongue, your throat, spilling down your chin. Sullyoon shrieks in frustration and pleasure as she finally tips over the edge milliseconds later, her body convulsing, fingers still buried inside herself.
Only Karina is silent, her hand stilled between her legs, watching the other three completely fall apart with wide, almost fearful eyes.
It takes a long moment for the intensity to subside. Wonyoung slowly, shakily, lifts herself off your still-throbbing cock. Her legs are trembling, her breath coming in harsh gasps. She looks utterly wrecked, but supremely satisfied. Yuna collapses forward onto your chest, panting, leaving your face completely soaked in her slick, sticky arousal, her scent clinging to you. Sullyoon curls into a ball on the bed, whimpering softly, spent.
Wonyoung recovers first, of course. She pushes her sweat-soaked hair back from her face and glares down at you, her usual imperious expression returning, though her flushed cheeks and slightly trembling hands betray the intensity of her orgasm.
"Well," she says, voice still a little shaky but regaining its commanding tone. She kicks your thigh lightly, not hard, just a dismissive nudge. "You were... adequate. As a piece of equipment." She looks you up and down. "You should thank us, you know. For even bothering to use you. Giving a little freak like you this kind of attention."
Your head is spinning. Your face is covered in Yuna’s juices. Your cock aches. Humiliation and arousal are waging a war inside you. But faced with Wonyoung’s unwavering command, the ingrained response kicks in.
"T-thank you," you stammer out. "Thank you... for using me."
Wonyoung gives a curt nod of satisfaction. Sullyoon, seemingly recovered, stirs beside you. She sits up slowly, her eyes landing on your face, still glistening wet. A slow, slightly dazed smile spreads across her lips.
"Hey, you're all messy," Sullyoon says softly. She crawls closer, leaning down towards your face. "Don't worry. I'll clean you up."
Before you can react, her tongue flicks out, tentatively licking at the sticky wetness on your cheek; Yuna's juices. She hums softly, seeming to enjoy the taste.
Yuna sees what Sullyoon is doing, and bursts into delighted giggles. "Yah! Sullyoon-ah!" she exclaims, reaching over and giving Sullyoon's bare ass a sharp, playful slap. "You little slut! Cleaning up after me already? So eager."
Sullyoon jumps at the slap, blushing furiously but giggling too as she continues to lick your face clean, her tongue surprisingly thorough.
Wonyoung’s chest rises and falls slow but heavy as she catches her breath, cheeks still flushed. She waves a hand lazily and snaps:
“Yuna. Water.”
Yuna’s already halfway up like she was waiting for the command, a little dazed but obedient, disappearing toward the suite’s kitchenette. You’re still on your back, cock slick and half-hard, twitching like it knows more’s coming.
Behind you, Karina’s voice pipes up, almost sheepish.
“Is it my turn now?”
Wonyoung tilts her head, pouting, turning with faux sweetness dripping from every syllable.
“Aww… Is our little Karina super horny right now?” She steps toward her slowly, arms crossed under her chest, tilting her head.
Karina nods, almost embarrassed. “Yeah.”
“You must be fucking insane,” Wonyoung purrs, biting her bottom lip, “to wanna feel that thing inside your pretty little pussy.” Her hand gestures lazily at your cock, still shiny with Wonyoung's Juices. “That thing you ran away from, remember? Screaming, even.”
Karina swallows hard and nods again. “I know… I was dumb…”
Wonyoung chuckles, low and wicked. “C’mere.”
Karina obeys instantly, stepping forward like she’s being summoned by a queen (which, yeah, she is). Wonyoung grabs her by the waist and pulls her in, lips crashing into hers. There’s hunger in it. Desperation. Karina clings to her, arms wrapping around her back as their tongues tangle and slide together.
Wonyoung’s hands move with zero shame, cupping Karina’s tits, squeezing hard, like she can’t help herself. The moan Karina lets out is real, shaky, needy.
“Mmm,” Wonyoung hums against her mouth. “Your mouth’s a lot more useful when it’s busy kissing than when it’s lying to me.”
Karina pulls back, blinking. “It wasn’t a—”
But Wonyoung shuts her up with a single finger pressed to her lips, eyes narrow.
“Shhh.”
Then kisses her again, harder this time. Rough. Like she’s marking her.
Yuna comes back into the room holding the glass of water like a dutiful maid, handing it over. Wonyoung grabs it, downs it in a few gulps, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Okay. I’m good now.”
She turns back to Karina, tossing the empty glass somewhere on the carpet without looking. Her smile sharpens.
“Take off your panties.”
Karina's hands are already on the hem of her panties before Wonyoung even finishes the sentence. She kicks them off, a little clumsy, cheeks red but thighs pressed together, as if she’s trying to hide how wet she already is.
Wonyoung doesn’t even look at her for long. She turns her gaze to you and Sullyoon, still tangled together.
“Well, looks like you two are having fun.”
Sullyoon giggles, brushing hair behind her ear, resting her hand on your chest.
“He’s cute.”
Wonyoung’s face shifts immediately, stern.
“Don’t fucking treat it like a person,” she says, voice cold. “It’s a toy. Just a fucktoy. You don’t call your vibrator cute, do you?”
Sullyoon straightens up a little, nodding quickly.
“No. Right.”
Wonyoung smirks and walks over to the edge of the bed.
“Since you two already warmed it up, now it’s your turn to ride it, babe.”
Sullyoon doesn’t hesitate. She stretches out on her back right beside you, her eyes locked on yours. You look down at her and, fuck, she’s a masterpiece.
Long, flawless legs, skin pale and creamy, like she’s carved from glass and silk. Her legs are spread for you already, thick thighs leading up to plush hips that move slightly like she’s getting comfortable, preparing herself. There’s a little sheen between them, already wet, already throbbing.
Her torso is slim, but her curves are unreal, that perfect hourglass drawn to scale, with soft perky tits rising and falling with her breath, nipples stiff from arousal. Her eyes look up at you like she knows exactly what you are: just something to make her cum; and it makes your cock pulse hard all over again.
You’re climbing over her, lining up, and—
“Wait!” Karina whines from the side, still bottomless, fists clenched at her sides. “I thought it was my turn…”
Wonyoung doesn’t even look at her at first. Then she steps up, grabs Karina by the cheeks and squishes her face like a child being scolded.
“Aww, poor baby,” she mocks. “Thinking she gets what she wants.”
Karina huffs, pouting against Wonyoung’s grip. “I—”
“You don’t get to talk right now,” Wonyoung cuts in sharply, still holding her by the face. Then her expression softens slightly, eyes flicking toward Yuna, who’s just watching silently, smiling.
“Go open the drawer.”
Yuna nods and turns immediately, heading toward the bedside cabinet with a knowing look.
Wonyoung lets go of Karina’s face and turns back to the bed.
“Go on. Fuck her.”
Your hands plant on the bed on either side of Sullyoon’s head. She’s already got her knees up, heels digging into the mattress, guiding your hips toward her with her legs. You feel her hand grip your cock and guide it down between her legs, slick heat greeting the tip. She rubs you along her folds once, then twice, then lines you up. You push.
She lets out a low moan, head tilting back.
“God, you’re fucking big…”
You keep pressing in. Her pussy stretches around you, velvet heat swallowing you inch by inch, and she takes it all without even flinching, like she’s built for this. Her back arches slightly, tits rising toward your chest, and her mouth opens, breath catching.
“Fuck yes…”
From the corner of your eye, Wonyoung is still standing over Karina, whispering something into her ear while her fingers toy with one of her nipples. But you don’t get to look for long because Sullyoon pulls you down by the neck, her thighs trembling a little around your waist, and whispers against your lips:
“Go easy, okay?”
You nod, leaning down, brushing your lips over her cheek. “I promise.”
That makes her smile, and she reaches for your hands, guiding them down to her hips. You shift your weight, angle your hips, the head of your cock dragging along her wet folds. She’s soaked, pussy creamy from being teased and fingered, and when you start to push in slow—god—she tightens around you immediately.
“Oh my god… you’re thick… this cock is a fucking weapon.”
Her fingers dig into your arms, breathing fast now. “It’s the biggest I’ve ever… fuuuck, go slow, please, go slow…”
You don’t even need the reminder. She’s gripping you like a fist, squeezing you inch by inch as you sink deeper, her walls fluttering like she’s already close from just the stretch alone. You pause halfway in, hips twitching with restraint, watching her face melt into something caught between pain and pure fucking pleasure.
“I got you,” you murmur, stroking her side, kissing her collarbone. "If you want me to stop, just say so.”
Meanwhile, behind you, Yuna walks back in, holding a thick black anal plug in one hand and a shiny silver tube of lube in the other. Her smile is too wide, too excited. Karina sees her and visibly tenses, backing half a step toward the couch.
“Wait… what’s that for?” Karina’s voice is shaky, eyes locked on the plug like it’s going to jump at her.
Wonyoung grins like a devil in a model's body. “If you wanna feel cock today, you’re gonna need to offer up that cute little ass.”
Karina stammers, blinking. “I’ve… I’ve never done that…”
“I know,” Wonyoung says calmly, stepping forward. “Now get on all fours.”
Karina’s mouth opens like she’s about to argue, but she hesitates too long.
“Right now,” Wonyoung snaps. “Or get the fuck out.”
Silence. Then Karina slowly turns, face red, and lowers herself to her knees. She looks humiliated, turned on, afraid (everything Wonyoung seems to love). Her thick thighs ripple as she gets into position, ass high, cheeks clenched, legs trembling slightly.
Yuna kneels behind her and pats her ass once, affectionate. “You’re gonna love it,” she says softly. “It’s like… my favorite.”
Wonyoung flicks her wrist. “Prep her.”
Yuna grins. “Can I lick it first?”
Wonyoung rolls her eyes. “Yes. Obviously.”
Yuna wastes zero time. She spreads Karina’s cheeks, leans in, and starts to lick, slow broad strokes at first, then narrowing in, teasing her little hole with the tip of her tongue. Karina whimpers, cheeks burning red as she hides her face in her arms.
Meanwhile, Wonyoung strolls back to you and Sullyoon, casually watching as you slowly roll your hips forward again, burying a little more of yourself inside her. Sullyoon’s thighs shake, her hands fisting in the sheets now, every breath a moan.
Wonyoung stands beside the bed, arms crossed, smirking.
Before you can react, she slaps your ass, sharp and loud, fingers leaving a sting that burns hot through your skin.
“Faster,” she commands.
You grunt, your body reacting without hesitation. You grip Sullyoon tighter and start thrusting harder, deeper, the slow roll of your hips turning into something more brutal, more rhythmic. She cries out, legs locking tighter around you.
“Aaah—fuck-fuck, I can't, it's too big!”
Wonyoung laughs like she’s at a party, delighted, stepping back to watch your hips hammer into Sullyoon, her body bouncing under you, moans pouring out of her with every thrust. She grabs one of Sullyoon’s tits, squeezing it roughly, pinching the nipple until Sullyoon arches off the bed.
“Much better,” Wonyoung says, grinning. “Now that’s how you use a toy.”
Behind you, Karina’s moaning too. Muffled and high-pitched. Yuna’s fingers are buried between her cheeks, tongue still teasing. The plug rests beside them on the bed, gleaming, waiting for its turn. Karina’s legs are trembling harder now, her ass slick, her breathing short and fast. But Wonyoung’s eyes are on you. On your cock driving into Sullyoon like you’re trying to fuck the shape of her pussy into your hips, her moans turning ragged and desperate, tears starting to gather in the corners of her eyes as the pleasure crashes through her.
Karina’s face is buried in her forearms, but her back is arched high, thighs pressed together as tightly as they can be with Yuna nestled between them. She keeps letting out these soft, confused little gasps, tiny moans like she doesn’t know what her body is doing or why it’s starting to like it. Her ass cheeks twitch every time Yuna’s tongue flattens out and drags upward, slow and wet, lingering at her tight rim before she flicks the tip of her tongue over it again. Yuna hums like she’s savoring something sweet, both hands spreading Karina’s cheeks apart like she’s exposing a gift, holding her wide while she works her mouth.
“Mmh, you taste so good…” Yuna breathes, kissing the spot softly before swirling her tongue around again. “God, your little asshole’s clenching like it’s trying to kiss me.”
Karina’s breath hitches. “It—it feels weird…”
Yuna giggles into her skin. “Weird’s just code for new. Sensitive, huh?”
Karina nods fast, her voice muffled. “Yeah—yes, I—it’s really sensitive, I d-don’t know if I—”
“Shhh,” Yuna whispers against her. “Let it happen. You’ll like it. I promise.”
She presses her tongue flat again, dragging it in a circle this time, slow and teasing. Karina jolts, her hips shaking, one of her hands clutching at the sheets.
“I-it tickles—oh my god…”
From the bed, your eyes flicker toward them, and the image hits like a shot of lust straight to your chest: Yuna's pretty face buried between Karina’s shaking thighs, her mouth wet, eyes half-lidded with focus while she laps at her like she’s starving. Karina’s whole body shudders again, her back arching deeper. Her hole’s glistening now, twitching and helpless while Yuna traces it with delicate, skilled strokes.
And still, you’re balls-deep in Sullyoon.
She’s so tight you swear you’re being milked. Every thrust in makes her body tremble under yours, her fingers tangled in the sheets, jaw slack from the pleasure stretching her open. You go back to fucking her slowly, just like she asked, deep, controlled strokes, feeling her clench every time you bottom out, It's the only way for you not to cum because her pussy is impossible good, but the moans that keep spilling from her lips are fucking addictive, and you have to resist the urge to sink your entire cock into her pussy. Her moana are soft at first, then louder, sharper, her voice cracking as she starts pushing her hips up to meet yours, wanting more. Your hands tighten on her waist, and you pull back before thrusting in again, the sound of it wet and obscene, skin on skin. Her eyes are rolling back, and you’re getting lost in it. The heat, the pressure, the way her pussy grips you like it’s desperate to keep you inside.
From beside the bed, Wonyoung watches everything.
She’s seated now, legs crossed elegantly, but her eyes are burning with attention. Her lips curl into a smirk when she sees how hard you’re holding back, how tight your jaw is as you fight the urge to rail Sullyoon into the mattress.
“You’re being too gentle again,” she says, voice calm, but there’s that edge again, that dominance that makes your cock twitch even deeper inside Sullyoon.
You look at her, sweat starting to bead at your forehead. “She asked me to—”
“I didn’t ask what she said,” Wonyoung cuts you off. She leans forward, her gaze sharp. “Put your hand on her throat.”
Your heart skips. Sullyoon hears it too, she shivers under you, her pussy tightening, her voice going breathless.
“D-Do it,” she whispers.
You reach out, slow, sliding your hand up from her chest to her neck. She tilts her head back, offering herself up, your fingers curl around her throat, gentle but firm, and the way her whole body reacts, hips lifting to press you deeper, a high moan escaping her lips, is fucking unreal. Wonyoung smiles like a queen watching a jester perform on command.
“Better.”
You start moving again, your thrusts picking up pace, dragging your cock deep into Sullyoon while your hand tightens slightly around her throat. She whines, her fingers scrabbling at your arms, her eyes fluttering half-shut as her breathing turns into high, broken gasps. Her back arches, tits brushing against your chest, nipples stiff and flushed from the friction.
“I—ah—fuck, I can feel it in my stomach…”
“You love it,” Wonyoung says, watching her with hungry eyes. “Say it.”
“I l-love it—fuck, I love it—it’s s-so fucking thick, it’s splitting me—”
You groan, head dipping to kiss her neck, tongue tracing her pulse, your hips slamming into hers with more weight now, every thrust deep enough to make the bed creak.
Behind you, Yuna’s still at it. She’s licking deeper now, more focused, her thumbs spreading Karina’s cheeks wider so her tongue can press closer, firmer. Karina’s hips keep jerking away on instinct, but Yuna doesn’t let her go anywhere.
“Stop running,” Yuna murmurs. “Just let me make you feel good…”
Karina whimpers. “Y-Yuna—fuck—it’s—it’s so much, I—I don’t know if—”
“Just wait till I lube you up, baby,” Yuna says sweetly, biting down gently on the soft flesh of her ass. “Then we’ll really see how much you can take.”
She picks up the bottle finally, uncapping it with a pop, and squeezes some of the cold gel onto her fingers. But she doesn’t rush it. She dips one finger between Karina’s cheeks, rubbing slow, spreading the lube around the tight entrance while Karina trembles and gasps with every little push and tease.
Wonyoung turns to glance over her shoulder, watching Karina squirm.
“She better be ready soon,” she says lazily. “Or I’m plugging her dry.”
Karina moans out loud at that, almost in panic. “N-no, wait, I—I’ll try, I’m trying—”
“Then fucking stay still, slut!” Wonyoung snaps.
Yuna grins and adds a second finger, the lube making slick noises as she circles the rim, pushing gently but insistently.
“She’s gonna be ready,” Yuna promises. “This hole’s too cute to go to waste.”
Wonyoung turns back to you, eyes raking down your body, then landing on where your cock disappears into Sullyoon again and again.
“Keep that pace. Don’t let her cum yet. She doesn’t get to finish until I say so.”
You nod, not trusting your voice, focused on Sullyoon’s flushed face, the way she looks up at you like she’s drowning in every inch you give her. She bites her lip hard, her thighs twitching around your waist.
“Don’t stop,” she breathes. “Please don’t fucking stop…”
Yuna’s fingers glisten with lube as she finally stops teasing and starts pushing one inside Karina. Karina jolts forward with a gasp, her ass still high, thighs shaking. She wasn’t ready for how it’d feel (wet and slick, yes, but so deliberate). Yuna’s finger presses slow but firm, the lube squelching audibly as it disappears past the tight rim. Karina clenches around it, hips trying to buck away, but Yuna just holds her there, one hand gripping her waist.
Yuna smiles against her back. “Of course it is, babe. That hole’s got potential.”
Karina groans through her teeth, forehead pressed to her forearms again. “It’s so fucking weird, I—ah—shit, it’s burning a little—”
“That’s just the stretch. You’ll love it once it’s open,” Yuna coos, sliding her finger deeper until she’s knuckle-deep. “Tight as hell, though… God. Your ass is starving.”
Karina lets out a choked noise, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and her legs twitch like she’s trying to stay still, even as her body reacts instinctively to the invasion.
“Stop clenching so much,” Yuna murmurs, moving her finger in shallow thrusts. “Let me in, Karina.”
Wonyoung, lounging beside the bed with her legs crossed and a slight sheen of sweat on her collarbones, doesn’t even look back at them.
“She’ll stop fighting it once the second finger goes in,” she mutters, eyes locked on you.
She points at Sullyoon’s trembling body beneath you, voice smooth but sharp:
“Bury it. All the way in. Now.”
You lock eyes with Sullyoon, her face flushed, eyes glassy, breath trembling, and she nods once, barely able to speak.
“Do it,” she whispers.
You shift your weight, grab her hips tighter, and push forward until your pelvis slams flush against her ass. Every thick, veiny inch of you is buried inside, and Sullyoon’s mouth drops open in a silent scream. Her eyes roll back immediately.
“OH MY FUHH—FUCK!!” she moans, her nails digging into your arms hard enough to draw blood. “It’s… all of it—fuck, I can feel it in my stomach, oh my god!”
Wonyoung lets out a quiet little laugh.
“She’s better like this,” she says, tilting her head. “More obedient. Tighter too, probably. Grip her neck again—tighter this time. Make my cute little slut cum.
You don’t hesitate. Your hand slides right back up, closing around Sullyoon’s throat, fingers pressing firmer now. Not choking her, but enough that she gasps and looks up at you with that fucked-out, submissive stare that sends blood rushing to your cock again.
Her voice comes out hoarse. “Harder, babe… please…”
You hold her there and start fucking her deep, slow, brutal strokes that make her tits bounce and her pussy gush around you. Every thrust hits her cervix like a drumbeat, and the little choking moans spilling out of her just egg you on. And behind you, Karina’s breathing has gone rapid and high-pitched. Yuna has two fingers in her now, both slick with lube, working them in and out in slow, deliberate pumps that have Karina rocking back against her without even realizing it.
“F-fuck, Yuna—stop, I-I’m gonna—gonna cum if you keep—fuck!” Karina moans, biting her own hand.
Yuna leans in, lips brushing Karina’s ear, breath hot. “Cum from a finger in your ass? That’s so fucking cute.” Karina’s whole body clenches, her ass twitching as Yuna scissors her fingers, stretching her open more with each motion. “You’re doing good, baby,” Yuna hums. “Almost ready…”
Wonyoung glances back now, amused. “Is the brat loosened up yet?”
Yuna smirks. “See for yourself.”
She pulls her fingers out slowly, the sound wet and filthy, then holds them up for Wonyoung to see: slick with lube and cream, glistening in the light. Karina’s still trembling on all fours, face buried, ass wet and twitching, her hole flexing involuntarily, stretched and needy. Wonyoung stands up, stretches, walks over like she owns the whole damn room (and she kind of does). She picks up the plug from the bed, weighing it in her hand, then crouches behind Karina.
Karina looks back, wide-eyed.
“Wait—wait, it’s big—fuck, I don’t know if I—”
Wonyoung slaps her ass hard enough to make her jolt. “You’re ready,” she says coldly. “Now stay still while I make you better.”
Yuna licks her fingers clean with a soft moan, then crouches back behind Karina like she’s settling into her favorite seat at a show. She plants her palms on Karina’s ass, spreading her cheeks wide, holding them apart so her tight, glistening little hole is fully exposed, twitching, raw and shining with lube and slick from her own juices. Karina’s breath stutters as she feels the air hit her, and her thighs shake like she might collapse, but Yuna keeps her wide, grinning like she’s already proud of the work they’ve done.
“Hold still, baby,” Yuna murmurs, her nails dimpling into Karina’s pale skin. “Let her give you your present.”
Wonyoung crouches low, plug in one hand, the lube-slicked tip already glistening under the soft lighting. She presses it right up against Karina’s hole, testing it. Karina gasps loud, her head lifting suddenly as her eyes fly open.
“Wait, wait, wait—f-fuck, Wonyoung, it’s big, I-I’m not ready, I—!”
Wonyoung doesn’t respond with words. She just applies pressure. The rounded head pushes inward, and Karina screams.
Her voice cracks like a sob, body lurching forward instinctively, but Yuna holds her in place with a grunt, gripping her hips like handlebars. Karina babbles through the pain, a slurry of panicked syllables and ragged breaths.
“Ah—ah—shit, oh my god, it’s too big, it’s too big—it burns—it fuckin’ burns!!”
“Then you shouldn’t have lied to me,” Wonyoung mutters, cool and detached, her hand steady as the thick plug stretches Karina wider with every slow, brutal inch. “You want cock, you get the punishment that comes first.”
Karina’s whole body trembles, ass clenched tight around the intruding plug, every inch sending more shockwaves of pain and humiliation through her. Her face is soaked with sweat already, lips parted in disbelief at how deep it’s going. Behind her, Yuna’s breath is hot, tongue flicking the edge of Karina’s ear as she leans over her back. “You sound so fucking hot like this,” she whispers. “You’re gonna be perfect once it’s all the way in. Such a good little plug slut.”
The scream Karina lets out next is sharp and raw, almost broken. You hear it, feel the vibration of it behind you like the air’s alive, and you’re still buried to the hilt in Sullyoon. Her legs are shaking around your hips, your hand’s still on her throat, and her pussy is pulsing, squeezing your cock like it’s trying to memorize it. The way Karina’s moaning next to her, screaming as she gets her ass opened, is fuel for Sullyoon. Her eyes roll back and her mouth drops open, chest rising and falling like she’s being devoured by the pleasure.
“I—I can’t—I can’t hold it!” she pants. “I’m gonna fucking cum—I swear—I can’t—oh my god kiss me, please, please kiss me, I wanna cum while you’re kissing me, I wanna feel your mouth when it hits—pleaseee!"
You don’t even hesitate. You lean down fast, your hand tightening on her throat just a little more as your mouth crashes into hers. Her lips are soft, wet, desperate. Her tongue meets yours immediately, greedy and wild, kissing you like she needs it more than air. The second your lips connect, she snaps. Her entire body tenses, heels digging into the bed, thighs clamping tight around your waist, and her pussy clamps down hard; a perfect vice, spasming and pulsing around your cock like she’s trying to pull you in even deeper. She lets out a high, shaking moan straight into your mouth, hands flying up to grab your face, kissing you harder, sloppier, while she cums in waves all over you. Your cock’s completely drenched now, soaked in her release, her body rocking beneath yours as the orgasm shakes through her like a storm, long and loud and so fucking hot you’re fighting every instinct not to unload inside her right there.
Wonyoung glances back, smirking, still pushing the plug deeper into Karina’s stretched hole with cruel precision. It’s almost fully in now, the thickest part parting Karina’s trembling rim, her voice hoarse from moaning and crying through the stretch.
“Look at that,” Wonyoung says, eyes on Karina but voice raised just enough to carry. “While you’re getting your tight little asshole split by a plug, Sullyoon’s over here creaming herself on cock like it’s the best day of her life.”
Karina sobs out a moan, too far gone to respond, just breathing raggedly while the final inch of the plug sinks in, slow and merciless.
“You jealous yet?” Wonyoung whispers near her ear. “You wanted this. You chose this. And now you get to be plugged up like a good little toy while someone else gets her guts rearranged.”
Yuna’s still holding Karina open, watching the plug disappear inside her with awe and glee.
“Almost there,” she says, licking her lips. “You’re taking it so well…”
Karina’s still panting into the mattress, arms trembling, her ass raised with the thick plug now buried deep inside, barely visible except for the slick base nestled between her swollen cheeks. Her eyes are glassy, cheeks streaked with a flush of sweat and tears, and her thighs are twitching from the slow, rhythmic throbbing inside her. She lifts her head slightly, voice weak but hopeful.
“S-So… what happens now?” Her words come out breathy, unsure. “Is it… is it my turn?”
Wonyoung doesn’t answer right away. She stands upright with a smug little stretch, licking the edge of her finger clean from guiding the plug in, her expression sharp with amusement. Then she lets out a dry, condescending chuckle.
“Not yet.” Karina blinks at her, blinking fast like she misheard. Wonyoung tilts her head, smiling cruelly. “Yuna hasn’t had a turn with that cock yet.”
Karina’s shoulders sag, and her face collapses into a tired, frustrated sigh. She lets her head fall back down onto her arms with a faint groan, too wrecked to protest more than that.
Yuna laughs, light, teasing, and smacks Karina’s ass again, right on the plug, making her yelp and jerk forward with a strangled moan.
“Be patient, princess,” Yuna grins. “You’ve already got a little friend stuffed in there to keep you busy. Don’t be greedy.”
Wonyoung shoots her a quick glance, neither amused nor annoyed, just sharp. Always sharp.
“Yuna,” she says flatly, “he’s ready.”
Yuna turns her head to you and waves a finger, grinning wide like a cat with cream on its tongue. “Come here, toy. Sit down. Edge of the bed.”
You obey immediately, there’s no part of your brain even pretending to fight it anymore. You climb off Sullyoon, who’s still panting and glowing from her orgasm, and move to the edge of the bed. Your thighs ache. Your cock is glistening with her slick, flushed dark, veiny, painfully hard. You sit down, muscles twitching from exertion, and look up as Yuna struts toward you. She turns around and backs herself up, settling her toned legs against yours, ass grazing your thigh, there’s a golden sheen of sweat clinging to her lower back and the curve of her ass cheeks glistening as she lowers herself onto you.
“You can touch me,” she says, glancing over her shoulder with a wink. “I’m not Wonyoung.”
Your hands rise instinctively, gripping her slim waist. She’s warm under your fingers, tight and toned. Yuna’s body is fucking unreal; lean but thick where it counts. Her waist is slim, but her hips flare out wide, ass plump and round with the kind of bounce that makes it impossible not to stare. Her thighs are powerful, soft over muscle, her skin is smooth, flawless, with that slight golden glow under the lights.
You squeeze her hips a little, breath catching in your throat.
“Fuck, you’re… perfect,” you mutter. “You’re fucking hot.”
Yuna giggles, rolling her hips back just enough to brush your cock against her folds.
“You know how to sweet talk a girl,” she purrs.
But Wonyoung’s voice slices in before you can say anything more.
“Stop talking to him like he matters.”
Yuna turns slightly, side-eyeing her with a sigh.
“Wonyoung…”
Wonyoung crosses her arms, eyes narrowing.
“He’s not your boyfriend. He’s not your friend. He’s a cock. A cumdump. A toy we’re borrowing for a good time, then tossing out.”
Yuna rolls her eyes, positioning your thick head right at her entrance, her slick folds gliding over it as she angles her hips.
“You’re so fucking cruel sometimes,” she mutters under her breath. “Let a bitch have one moment.”
And then she sinks down.
Your breath punches out of you like you’ve been hit. Her pussy is molten hot, wet, gripping the crown of your cock so tight you’re not even sure you’re going to get more than an inch in. She moans, sharp and rough, her hands bracing on your thighs.
“Jesus fucking fuck, it’s… it’s so big, holy shit—”
She pauses, knees shaking, muscles tense as she eases herself lower. Behind you, the mattress dips again as Sullyoon crawls back up, her skin flushed pink, hair a little messy, that dreamy post-orgasm look still painted across her face. But her eyes are focused on Karina now.
Karina hasn’t moved, still on all fours, ass stuffed, hair sticking to her cheeks, panting. Sullyoon leans in, wraps her arms around her waist gently from behind, pressing their bodies close.
“Hey,” Sullyoon whispers, brushing Karina’s sweaty hair off her cheek. “You okay?”
Karina nods slowly, leaning back into her friend’s touch.
“It hurts,” she says quietly, breath shivering. “But… not in a bad way.”
Sullyoon presses a soft kiss to her shoulder, then another to her neck.
“I’ll take care of you,” she promises, pulling Karina closer. Her arms wrap tighter, soothing. “You were so brave.”
Karina’s lips part to answer, but Sullyoon’s already leaning in again, this time pressing her mouth to Karina’s. Their kiss is gentle, slow, nothing like the desperation you’ve been drowning in all night. Their tongues meet, slow and lazy, tasting each other with softness that's somehow kind of hot. But Sullyoon’s hand starts to slide down Karina’s belly, grazing over her trembling thighs, fingertips dancing toward her pussy.
“Let me help you feel good,” she murmurs, her fingers slide between Karina’s legs, just brushing her slick folds—
“Stop right there.”
Wonyoung’s voice is sharp, cold steel. Both girls freeze. She strides over, her eyes locked on Sullyoon like a schoolteacher catching someone cheating. “She doesn’t get help,” Wonyoung says, grabbing Sullyoon’s wrist and pulling her hand away. “She didn’t earn it. Let her sit with the plug for a while.”
Sullyoon swallows, pulling her hands back respectfully, returning to holding Karina with just arms and lips now, keeping her warm but not touching further. Karina sighs into her mouth, kissing her again slowly, eyes fluttering closed. Meanwhile, Yuna’s moaning as she forces another inch of you inside her. Her pussy is soaking, clenching like crazy, her breath stuttering as she lowers herself little by little, adjusting with every thick ridge you press past her walls.
“Goddamn,” she gasps, laughing breathlessly. “It’s like—I don’t even—fuck, how do you carry this around without passing out?”
You grip her waist tighter, watching her ass ripple as she eases further down. Her thighs flex with every movement, sweat rolling down her spine as she moans louder.
“You’re so tight,” you groan, digging your fingers into her hips.
“Yeah?” she pants, twisting her hips to get the angle right. “Well, this pussy doesn’t play, baby.” Then she gasps sharp, eyes wide. “Shit! There we go—fuck—there it is—!”
She finally bottoms out, her ass slapping against your lap, every inch of your cock buried in her slick, clenching heat. She leans forward, chest heaving, moaning low in her throat like she’s drunk on it.
“Oh my god,” she laughs, trembling. “It’s inside. It’s fucking in.”
And from across the room, Wonyoung watches with a satisfied little smile, voice cutting clean through the soft gasps and stifled kisses. “Good. Now ride him.” Then, to Karina, still squirming in Sullyoon’s arms: “Take notes. You’re next.”
Yuna starts to move with that kind of self-aware sensuality that makes your brain turn to soup. Her hips roll in slow, hypnotic circles as she grinds her soaked pussy down on your cock, using her entire body like she’s showing it off just for you, every shift, every drag of her slick walls over your length is deliberate. She knows how tight she is, how good she feels, and she’s savoring every reaction you can’t hide. You’re still seated at the edge of the bed, thighs flexed, hands gripping her waist like your life depends on it, and she just rides, slow and deep, her ass clapping lightly against your lap with each bounce, like a steady rhythm meant to tease.
She leans back against you, pressing her spine to your chest, arms raised, looping her hands around your neck while her breath rolls out in these soft little gasps. “Mmm… you like that?” she purrs, grinding down hard and slow again, making your cock throb inside her. “So deep… so fucking thick…”
Your fingers twitch on her hips. You’re trying so hard not to snap, not to grab her and slam her down on you until she screams, not to break that rhythm, even though your cock is pulsing with the need to unload.
Sullyoon watches from the bed, her head tilted as she strokes Karina’s hair gently, the other girl now slumped in her lap, the plug still buried deep in her ass, legs slightly parted. Karina’s out of breath, still flushed and shivering, lips swollen from their kissing. Sullyoon’s gaze flicks from Yuna’s bouncing hips back to you, a grin tugging at her mouth.
“You know,” she says, softly but loud enough for all to hear, “he deserves some fucking credit for not blowing already.”
Wonyoung raises an eyebrow, arms crossed. She doesn’t interrupt, just watches. Yuna chuckles breathlessly as she grinds her hips again, this time harder, clenching on your cock as she lifts and sinks, her thighs flexing with every controlled motion. “Mmm, right? He’s being such a good boy,” she coos, rolling her hips, her voice dipping to a low murmur. “Holding back like that, keeping it in. Such good control…”
She pauses, sitting all the way down on you again, then leans forward with a grin, twisting to look at your face. Her hand slides down, past your stomach, and cups your balls through the base of her pussy. The squeeze is careful but firm, her fingers exploring the weight of them as her grin widens.
“Shit,” she says under her breath. “These are so full. They feel heavy as fuck.” She lifts her hips a little, stroking your length from the inside with her muscles, then settles back down with a wet slap, her ass jiggling from the impact. “There’s probably a lot in there by now,” she teases. “You’ve been holding it in through Sullyoon riding you, Karina moaning with a plug stuffed in her ass, me grinding your cock like it’s my job… damn, when you finally blow, it’s gonna be fucking insane, isn’t it?”
You grunt, tightening your grip on her waist, your abs flexing from the effort it takes not to cum right then and there. Every time she lifts off you, your cock throbs in the air, aching for release. When she slides back down, slow and snug, your balls tighten under her hand. She keeps touching them, rolling them in her palm as she rocks her hips in slow figure-eights, her walls clenching rhythmically around your shaft. You can barely breathe. Every second she draws it out is another second closer to your breaking point.
Behind her, Karina moans faintly, still flushed, her voice muffled against Sullyoon’s shoulder. Sullyoon’s fingers stroke her back now, soothing, her eyes watching Yuna like she’s impressed. She laughs lightly.
“I think he’s gonna pass out if you keep doing that,” she says.
Yuna grins and kisses your neck, her lips soft and teasing. “Not yet,” she whispers. “He hasn’t earned it yet.”
Yuna’s movements shift from teasing to needy, the playfulness in her hips giving way to urgency. She's been riding you for minutes that feel like hours, slow and deep, drawing out every drop of pleasure like it’s foreplay for herself. But it’s not. Her rhythm’s breaking. Her thighs start trembling every time she lifts herself off your cock, her breath catching in her throat with these sharp little gasps, lips parted and swollen, chest heaving against her bra. You feel her pussy start to pulse around you; tightening and fluttering with every downward drop, every slap of her ass against your thighs… her body chasing something she’s trying to hold off, but it’s not working anymore.
She lets out a louder moan, sharp and cracking.
“F-fuck… I’m close… fuck, I’m so close…”
She doesn’t stop riding you, if anything, she moves faster, grinding her clit against your pelvis with every bounce, her hands grabbing onto your shoulders now, nails biting into your skin for leverage. Her voice trembles when she speaks again, a whisper at first, then louder, breathless and wild.
“Don’t hold back, don’t fucking hold back—fuck me—fuck me hard—make me cum!”
Fuck, that's all you wanted to hear.
Your fingers clamp down on her waist, and you slam her down onto your cock, hard, your hips jerking upward at the same time, bottoming out deep inside her with a wet, brutal smack. She screams (a real one) choked and high, head snapping back as her pussy clamps down on you like a vice. You don’t give her time to breathe. You start fucking her like your brain’s gone, your hands guiding her body up and down on your cock, her thighs clapping against your hips, the bed frame groaning from the weight of your thrusts. It’s all messy now, no rhythm, just raw need, your cock punching into her soaked, fluttering cunt again and again, harder each time. Yuna’s moans are desperate now. Loud, cracked, real. She slams her palm between her legs, fingers going straight to her clit, rubbing fast and sloppy, hips bucking into her own hand, mouth falling open with every spasm of pleasure that racks her body.
She’s babbling, voice broken, almost sobbing from how deep you’re buried inside her. Her whole body is tight, coiled like a spring, legs twitching, her stomach tensing with every thrust, her clit swollen and soaked from how hard she’s been rubbing. Wonyoung steps forward slowly, eyes locked on the scene, and her voice is like a whip crack.
“Make her cum. Now.”
You don’t need to be told twice. You slam her down again, burying every thick inch into her, your grip bruising tight as your cock throbs inside her fluttering heat. Yuna’s hand is a blur between her legs, her voice pitching into a scream.
“I’m cumming—I’m fucking cumming—fuck, it’s too much—”
Her entire body goes stiff in your lap. Then it hits.
She explodes with a scream, shaking violently as the orgasm overtakes her, every muscle locking up. Her pussy grips you like it’s trying to crush you, pulsing and spasming around your cock as waves of heat roll through her core. Her legs kick out, her back arches, and she clings to your shoulders like she’s drowning. Her thighs spasm against your hips, her fingers digging into your chest now, nails scraping down your skin.
You hold her there, not moving anymore, just feeling her ride the wave, her cunt milking you in hard, rhythmic squeezes. She keeps twitching, little cries spilling from her lips as she rides every aftershock, her pussy making these messy, obscene noises with every throb, her clit still pulsing from the overload.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck—” she gasps, collapsing forward against you, face buried in your neck, breath ragged, sweat pouring down her back. You wrap your arms around her, holding her close while she trembles and whimpers against your skin. It takes a full minute for her to calm down, her thighs still twitching, her chest rising and falling like she just ran a marathon.
Then Wonyoung clears her throat.
“That’s enough,” she says flatly.
Yuna groans in protest but slowly lifts herself off your cock, her legs shaking under her weight, your cock sliding free with a wet, messy squelch, still rock-hard and soaked in her cum. She stumbles over to the bed, collapsing onto it face-down with a heavy exhale, ass still wobbling from the force of the ride.
Sullyoon leans over with a little grin, raises her hand, and smacks her ass hard, right over the reddened skin. Revenge. The sound echoes, and Yuna yelps, jolting slightly.
“Damn, Yuna,” Sullyoon giggles. “You rode him like a fucking demon.”
Yuna mumbles something into the mattress, breathless and ruined, one hand reaching back to rub her sore cheek.
“Shut up and gimme five minutes…”
Wonyoung just smirks and turns to Karina.
“Now. Your turn. Get back on all fours.”
Karina obeys without speaking. Her knees sink into the mattress, palms bracing in front of her as she positions herself, ass high, head down, breathing slow and shaky. She doesn’t look back. Wonyoung steps forward without a word, crouching behind her, and places her hand on the base of the plug. Karina whines at the touch alone, thighs twitching inward.
“Be still.”
Karina nods and braces.
Wonyoung slides the plug out in one smooth, slow pull. Karina gasps, her back arches, a broken moan ripping from her throat as her rim stretches wide then closes again, twitching, raw and gaping. Slick lube coats the plug’s shaft, creamy and glistening, and Wonyoung sets it down with a little smirk, running her fingers lightly along Karina’s ass just to watch her shiver.
“You were obedient,” Wonyoung says, almost fond. “You stayed plugged like a good girl. You followed every fucking order.”
Karina’s breath catches, hope flickering in her voice. “So I can… finally…?”
Wonyoung smiles. “Yes.” She turns her head toward you and snaps her fingers. “Come here, freak. She’s earned her reward.”
You’re already moving before she finishes the sentence. You’re still hard, aching, throbbing, and you can barely think through it, but the tension in the room makes you slow your steps.
“But,” Wonyoung says, raising her voice just enough to stop you in your tracks, “it’s going in her ass.”
Karina’s entire body stiffens. Her head whips around, wide-eyed, lips parting in stunned disbelief. “W-what…?”
Wonyoung steps to the side, folding her arms again. “If you want to cum tonight, it’s going to be on his cock—in your ass.”
“I didn’t ask,” Wonyoung cuts her off coldly. “You can take it. You want your orgasm? Then shut the fuck up and take what you’re given.”
Yuna lets out a delighted little gasp, grinning like Christmas came early. “Oh my god, this is gonna be so good…”
Sullyoon, already on the bed beside her, frowns faintly, brushing a hand over Karina’s shoulder. “You don’t have to if—”
“She’s doing it,” Wonyoung says, turning her glare on Sullyoon, who backs off immediately, hands up in surrender. Karina swallows hard, her face still red, eyes darting between the three of you, and then, finally, she nods. Hesitant. Reluctant. But nodding.
“I’ll do it…” she says quietly, glancing at you. “But please—go slow…”
You step closer, gently resting your hand on her back, fingers brushing up her spine.
“I will,” you whisper. “I promise.”
Wonyoung clicks her tongue.
“He doesn’t make the rules,” she mutters. “But yes—slow, obviously. Now do your fucking job.”
You nod once and slide your hand down Karina’s lower back, palm splayed over the dip just above her ass. Her body tenses, breath hitching at your touch, but she doesn’t pull away. She’s trembling, terrified and aroused all at once, and your stomach knots in that strange way again, torn between lust and something dangerously close to care.
Yuna’s suddenly right beside you, grinning, holding the bottle of lube in one hand.
“Here,” she says cheerfully, popping the cap and squeezing a generous line along your cock. It’s cold, shocking against your skin, but you grunt as she smears it in with her hand, slow and thorough. “We’ll make sure she’s nice and slick.”
Then she moves behind Karina, spreading her cheeks again with one hand, and pours more lube directly onto her twitching hole.
Karina whimpers.
“Gotta help her too,” Yuna says, rubbing it in with two fingers, slow circles that make Karina gasp and moan. “Poor baby’s so tight…”
Once everything’s coated, Yuna pats your cock and steps back, clapping her hands. “Alright, stud. She’s ready.”
You grip your shaft, position yourself, and slide forward, just the tip pressing against her entrance. The resistance is immediate. Hot and tight and trembling. Karina sucks in a breath through clenched teeth. You pause, lean down, whisper against her ear.
“Tell me if it’s too much.”
She nods without looking up. “Just… slow. Please…”
You push forward a little. Even just the head feels like a violation. Her body shudders, a loud moan breaking from her lips, half pain, half disbelief.
“Oh—oh fuck! it’s huge!”
You stop again, one hand on her hip, the other stroking her back. You wait for her to breathe, to settle. Then you start again. Millimeter by millimeter, your cock stretches her open, and Karina whines through her teeth, fists clenching the sheets, toes curling. Her thighs are soaked, slick drips down the insides of her legs, proof that pain and arousal have long since blurred. Every few seconds, you stop, just long enough for her to catch her breath, before you push a little deeper.
“God,” Sullyoon whispers from behind, hugging a pillow to her chest, eyes wide. “He’s really doing it…”
Yuna sits beside her, fascinated. “Look at her hole,” she says gleefully. “It’s fucking swallowing him.”
Karina cries out again as another inch slips in.
“F-fuck, it’s—too big—please—”
“You’re doing amazing,” you murmur, and you mean it. “Just a little more…”
Her body clamps down, squeezing you like it’s trying to push you out and pull you in at the same time. You slow down again, your cock slick and throbbing, the pressure unbelievable, her body wrapping around you tighter than anything you’ve ever felt.
Wonyoung watches it all from the corner of the bed, arms crossed, lips curled into a quiet, satisfied smile.
“That’s it,” she purrs. “Stretch her out. She’ll never forget it.”
Karina’s moans rise in pitch, her body soaked with sweat now, ass flushed and stretched, you're still halfway in, cock glistening with lube and Karina’s juices, your hands gripping her hips like she’ll drift away if you let go. Her body is trembling under you: legs shaking, back arched, her forehead pressed to the sheets. Her moans come in shaky bursts, broken syllables spilling from her lips between gasps. You’re going slow (agonizingly slow) but even that feels like too much for her. The pressure is overwhelming. The stretch makes her wince with every inch, but she hasn’t told you to stop yet, and her soaked thighs betray the truth: she’s aching for it, terrified of it, and turned on beyond words.
You keep your pace steady, pushing in another inch. She cries out, voice cracking, one hand flying back to grip your wrist.
“S-stop—please—I can’t—it’s too much—!”
You freeze immediately, body tense, chest heaving as you struggle to not blow from the way she squeezes around you, like a velvet vice locked in desperation. Sweat drips from your forehead onto her lower back as you hold yourself there, just breathing, feeling her twitch and clench around the thick girth pulsing inside her. Your cock’s only a little more than halfway in, but the look on her face says she’s already overwhelmed.
Her face is buried in the sheets, bright red and dripping with sweat. Her eyes are shut tight, lips parted in a silent moan. And between her legs, her pussy is dripping, messy and obscene, leaving trails down her thighs. She’s shaking from the stretch, but she’s dripping from the want. It’s chaos, and her body is split right down the middle. Wonyoung shifts on the bed beside her, standing now, arms folded across her chest. Her gaze drops to where you’re still inside Karina’s ass, her head tilting slightly. Cool and calculated.
“How much?” she asks you. Her voice is flat, but curious.
You glance down your shaft. “Little more than half.”
She kneels beside Karina, brushing strands of hair from her face, then leans in close. Karina’s still gasping, unable to speak. Wonyoung looks back up at you.
“That’s enough.”
You pause, nodding, your cock twitching from the pressure building between restraint and raw, near-painful pleasure.
“Start moving,” Wonyoung commands. “Let her feel what she earned.”
You shift your grip on Karina’s hips, sliding your hands up her waist as your thighs tense. She lets out a shaky, helpless sound when you pull back just a couple inches, her body clenching again, like she doesn’t want to let you go, and then you push forward again, slow and deep, not adding more depth but grinding within what she can take.
Karina groans—long and broken.
“Fffuuckk…” she moans into the mattress, hips quaking. “It’s so big, so thick, I can’t believe you’re in my ass… fuck—it’s too much—it’s so full…”
You move again, withdrawing slightly and thrusting slowly back in. Her body jerks with each motion, every slow grind making her rim flutter, her ass stretched and twitching. The sensation has your spine tingling, a tight, searing heat wrapping around your cock like wet silk squeezed over bone. Yuna leans over the edge of the bed, eyes wide with awe, a dirty grin painted across her face.
“She’s taking it like a champ,” she says, grinning. “Look at her—look at that grip. Holy shit.”
Sullyoon’s perched at the headboard, arms hugging her knees, watching with this mix of sympathy and raw curiosity. Her cheeks are pink, eyes wide, lips parted.
“She’s doing so good…” she whispers. “I don’t think I could…”
Wonyoung leans in and cups Karina’s cheek gently, tilting her face so she can see her expression. Karina’s eyes flutter open; glassy, unfocused, filled with overwhelmed heat.
“You’re not gonna forget this,” Wonyoung murmurs, a little smile touching her lips. “No one ever forgets their first real stretch.”
Karina whines, biting her lip, trying to stay still as your hips begin to find a rhythm. You rock into her gently, each thrust short and slow, giving her body time to adjust while her moans grow louder, more broken. Her thighs glisten with arousal, and her hands fist the sheets so tight her knuckles go white.
“I-it’s too good,” she sobs out. “I didn’t know it would feel like this—why does it feel so fucking good?”
You thrust a little deeper, not by much, just enough to push the limits she’s already enduring. Her moan cuts off into a gasp, her body twitching under yours, and you swear you feel her pussy throb at the same time; her cunt untouched, but soaking like it’s getting fucked just from how your cock is stretching her ass.
Your hand slides to her lower back, stroking it gently, whispering low.
“You’re doing perfect, Karina. So fucking good…”
Her answer’s a raw moan, her ass arching slightly, offering you better access without even thinking. You start grinding deeper into her with more confidence, your cock gliding through her slickened hole in a slow, punishing rhythm that has her gasping every time your hips press against her. Yuna slides closer, one hand slipping between Karina’s thighs, hovering just above her glistening folds but not touching.
“You’re dripping all over the bed,” she says. “You love this, huh? Getting your ass fucked by the cock you ran from?”
Karina sobs into the sheets, too fucked out to answer.
Wonyoung circles behind you like a queen inspecting her soldiers, her gaze drops to the slick, stretched spot where your cock disappears into Karina’s ass, the loud, wet rhythm of your thrusts filling the room in obscene contrast to Karina’s trembling moans. Your grip is still tight on her hips, your pace steady, giving her the depth she can handle, but not much more than that.
Wonyoung exhales sharply, almost bored. “Pick up the fucking pace.” Her voice snaps through the air like a whip. “Make her scream, freak."
Before you even register the shift, her hand cuts down hard against Karina’s ass, a brutal, open-palmed slap that sends a jolt through her entire body. Karina cries out, her head lifting from the mattress, her back arching, eyes wide as her moan turns into something raw and sharp. You grit your teeth and follow the order. Your hips slam forward, the new rhythm vicious and unrelenting. Every stroke now punches into Karina’s stretched ass with a thick, wet slap, your cock sliding deeper with each thrust, balls slapping against her soaked thighs. The change is instant. She screams, loud, guttural, her hands scrabbling at the sheets, her voice cutting through the air with no filter, no shame.
“Ah—ahhh fuck—it’s too much—too much!”
You don’t slow down. You can’t. Not when Wonyoung’s standing behind you with that look in her eyes. Not when Karina’s body keeps pushing back against you like it wants every inch. Her tits bounce violently with every impact, full and heavy, swinging under her with each slam of your hips, her nipples dragging against the sheets.
Wonyoung steps forward and grabs a fistful of Karina’s hair, yanking her head up so her moaning face is fully exposed.
“This what you wanted, Karina?” she snarls, leaning down near her ear. “You begged for this cock. You begged to cum tonight. You begged for your fucking ass to be split open, and now you’re fucking screaming. Is this what you wanted?”
Karina sobs and nods through it, eyes wild, drool slipping from the corner of her mouth as she cries out, “Yes! Oh my god yes, yes, yes—please—fuck, don’t stop!”
“Pathetic,” Wonyoung mutters, releasing her hair with a shove that makes Karina collapse forward again, her ass thrust up perfectly for more abuse. Then she looks at you, her expression hard. “And you,” she snaps. “Look at you. Huffing and panting like a fucking dog. You two deserve each other. Ruin this lying slut!”
You grab Karina’s hips tighter, your pace going savage now, hammering her with everything you’ve got. Her voice breaks into a string of high-pitched moans and screams, every thrust punching into her ass with punishing force, her body bouncing forward from the impact. The clap of flesh on flesh echoes through the room, her sweat-slick thighs shaking as she takes it, her pussy dripping onto the sheets like a faucet, untouched and soaked. Wonyoung watches the chaos she’s orchestrated, arms crossed again, a twisted smile forming at the corners of her lips.
“Fuck her until she forgets her name.”
Your hands stay locked on Karina’s hips, holding her firm, thumbs digging into the curves just above her ass as your cock pistons in and out of her stretched, twitching hole. She’s beyond trying to speak in full thoughts now; just babbling, moaning, her mouth open and drooling against the sheets, words falling from her like she’s half-delirious. Her spine arches deeper with each thrust, every part of her trembling as you slam into her again and again, the obscene slap of your hips meeting her ass echoing through the room, wet and brutal.
Her voice jumps pitches without warning, cracking with raw pleasure. There’s no control left in her body. Her thighs are shaking, her arms weak, her pussy glistening untouched beneath her as it drips onto the bed from the pressure alone. You watch the muscles in her ass flex and quiver with every movement of your cock, your shaft stretching her open wider than she’s ever taken, buried inside her like you’re trying to reach her fucking soul.
Yuna leans in from the edge of the bed, laughing in this low, teasing purr that’s half arousal and half mocking delight.
“Holy shit. Look at her. She’s gonna cum just from taking it in the ass like a fucking whore.”
Karina whimpers something into the sheets, something like no or yes or both at once, but her eyes are rolled back, jaw slack, her moans breaking apart like she doesn’t even understand her own body anymore. You keep going. Your thrusts stay relentless. The heat of her body, the grip of her ass around your cock, the way her hips bounce and jerk under you with every impact: it’s pure addiction. You feel her starting to tighten even more, impossibly tight, her whole body locking up like she’s about to snap in half, and her moans spiral into a high, broken whine.
“F-fuck—oh my god, it’s too—ahhh—it’s too much, I’m gonna—I can’t!”
She’s drooling onto the sheets, arms weak, knuckles white from gripping the bedding like it’s all that’s keeping her grounded. Her back arches deeper, like her body’s trying to get away and get more at the same time. Her ass swallows your cock with this obscene wet sound, slick with lube and her own mess, but so fucking tight you can feel every spasm as her rim flutters around your shaft. You glance at Karina’s face; she’s a fucking wreck. Eyes rolled back, mouth open, sweat dripping down her neck. She’s not looking at anyone, just moaning, gasping, shaking. Her pussy’s untouched, but it looks already mid-orgasm, creamy and glistening between her thighs. You slam your cock into her again, and she jolts, sobbing out a half-word, half-wail.
“I’m close,” she gasps out suddenly, louder this time. “I’m—fuck—I’m gonna cum!”
Wonyoung steps forward slowly, arms folded, eyes locked on Karina like she’s waiting to pull the trigger. “Then cum.” Karina’s whole body jerks at the sound of her voice. “Cum now,” Wonyoung growls. “I want to watch you lose it.”
You slam into her again, deeper, faster—and that’s it. That’s all it takes.
Karina screams.
She screams like her body’s being ripped open and baptized at the same time, her voice breaking as her ass clamps down around your cock like a vice, spasming, pulsing, gripping you like she’s trying to suck every drop of cum out of you without you even releasing yet. Her thighs twitch violently, knees buckling beneath her, and she collapses onto the bed fully, her face buried in the mattress, her whole body convulsing as she cums hard from her ass alone.
“Fuuuuck—oh fuck I’M CUMMING! Oh my god—fuck-fuck-fuck!!”
Her pussy gushes under her, untouched and throbbing, slick running down her thighs like her whole body’s melting. Her back arches once, twice, then drops, but she keeps shaking, every nerve lit up like she’s been plugged into a live wire. Her fists are tight in the sheets, her mouth open, drool and moans pouring out without rhythm.
She’s sobbing now, babbling through the aftershocks.
“I—oh god, I didn’t know—I can’t stop, I’m still cumming, I can’t stop, It's so good, it's so fucking good…”
You’re still inside her, cock twitching with every clench of her hole, but you don’t move, just hold her there, one hand still locked on her waist, the other stroking her back like you’re trying to keep her from slipping through the mattress.
Yuna’s staring in disbelief, biting her lip, cheeks flushed.
“She just fucking came… from her ass,” she breathes. “That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.”
Sullyoon crawls closer, eyes wide and sparkling with awe, her hand hovering near Karina’s trembling shoulder. “Is she okay?” she whispers.
“She’s perfect,” Wonyoung says flatly, stepping beside her and crouching. She brushes Karina’s hair off her face. “She came like a filthy little anal slut. And she needed that.” There’s a moment of silence, then Wonyoung looks at you. “Your turn,” she says flatly. “You’ve been edging like a good little bitch all night. Now you give us your cum.”
You’re still buried in Karina’s ass, but the moment she hears Wonyoung’s voice shift like that, she groans softly and starts to lift herself. Her whole body shivers as she slowly slides off your cock, her asshole fluttering open before clenching tight, empty, twitching from the stretch. Your entire length is gleaming with slick, twitching hard as it’s exposed to the air again. You reach up, help steady Karina. She’s weak, legs barely holding her. Her skin’s flushed deep pink, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, sweat dripping down her chest. She stumbles a bit, and you help ease her down. She kneels, then braces herself upright, arms shaking, tits rising and falling with each breath. Her mouth is still parted, cheeks red, eyes dazed, but she’s looking up at you, obedient, waiting.
Wonyoung watches with one eyebrow raised.
“You made it this far,” she mutters. “Color me shocked. Most guys would’ve been pumping their load into a tissue in the first ten minutes.”
Yuna giggles, kneeling in front of you, her eyes still sparkling with a manic energy. “That’s because you scare the cum out of most guys just by walking into the room, Wony. They probably blow their load just thinking about disappointing you.”
“It’s a talent,” Wonyoung shrugs, a picture of regal indifference, though her eyes are fixed on your straining cock with an unnerving focus. She runs the tip of her tongue over her plump lower lip. “But you,” she says, “you don’t have to hold back anymore. You’ve been a good little freak, edging for us all night. Now it’s time for your reward… or perhaps, our reward from you.”
Sullyoon moves next, a quiet, graceful wraith in the dimly lit room. She slides up beside Karina and brushes a stray strand of hair behind Karina’s ear, then leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. Karina leans into the touch, a soft whimper escaping her lips, her body trembling almost imperceptibly. Sullyoon rests a comforting hand on Karina’s thigh, her thumb stroking gently, before turning her full attention to you. Her eyes, usually wide with an innocent curiosity, are now dark, dilated, and utterly captivated by the sight of your huge cock.
You’re standing now, swaying slightly, your body a live wire of overstimulated nerves. Your cock is a flushed, angry purple, pulsing with a life of its own, veins snaking across its thick shaft like swollen rivers. It’s utterly drenched, glistening from base to tip with a disgusting, beautiful cocktail of the slick lube Yuna had applied earlier, and the clear, sticky juices that seeped from Karina’s ass as you stretched her. It’s still leaking pre-cum—one fat, pearly droplet hanging precariously from the swollen head, threatening to fall. The ache in your balls is a relentless, throbbing agony, a heavy, full sensation that promises an explosive release. Every inch of your skin is buzzing, screaming with a desperate, almost painful need.
Yuna, never one for patience, has already wrapped her surprisingly strong fingers around the base of your shaft, her touch possessive and demanding.
“Fuck, you’re so hard,” she whispers, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and greedy anticipation. She gives you a preliminary squeeze, making you grunt. “He’s still this fucking hard? After being inside four of us? You didn’t cum once?” Her voice is incredulous, a hint of challenge in it.
“Not yet,” Sullyoon breathes. She licks her lips slowly, her gaze unwavering from your cock. “But he’s close. I can feel it. He’s about to burst.”
“Let’s fix that,” Wonyoung declares. She glides forward and kneels before you, a queen preparing to receive tribute. The way she settles at your feet, eyes already devouring your erection, doesn't feel like submission; it feels like she’s about to break you open and claim what’s hers.
Then, it truly begins.
Wonyoung’s grip on your shaft is like iron, cool and clinical, yet sending shivers of heat through you. Her other hand instantly dives down, fingers deftly finding and cupping your aching, heavy balls. They feel like overripe fruit, swollen and tender. "Fuck, these are absolutely full," she grunts. She gives them a calculated squeeze, just enough to make you let out a strangled moan, your hips twitching. Meanwhile, Karina, seemingly over her initial trepidation, has crawled forward, her eyes glazed with a new kind of desperate hunger. She takes the very tip of your cock into her warm, wet mouth, her tongue flicking nervously against the sensitive slit. "You've been saving it all up for us, haven't you, my little freak?" Wonyoung continues. "Such a good little cum-toy, filled to the brim, just waiting for your goddesses to drain you."
"He's gonna paint us! He’s going to fucking drench us!" Yuna shrieks with manic delight, her own hand a blur at the base of your cock, stroking furiously. The friction is intense, slick with spit and your own copious pre-cum. Her tongue becomes a relentless tease around the thick crown, darting, licking, swirling. "Give it to me, toy! I want every last drop!"
Sullyoon is pressing kisses up your thigh, her breath hot against your skin, her hands gripping your other leg for balance. Her voice, usually so gentle, is surprisingly demanding, raw with need. "Please... oh god, please just let it go... I need to see it… I need to taste you… Don’t make us wait anymore, you bad boy!"
Karina, trembling visibly, lifts her head, her eyes wide and unfocused, a thick string of saliva connecting her lips to the glistening tip of your cock. Her cheeks are flushed, her breathing ragged. "You can do it... cum for us... please, after everything... just let us have it," she begs. "Fill me up too..."
Wonyoung meets your eyes, that cruel, beautiful smirk is back. "That's right, toy. You heard them. They’re begging for your filth. Sullyoon wants to taste it. Karina wants you to fill her pathetic mouth. Yuna wants you to drown her. They’re all desperate for it. But I demand it." Her voice drops to a menacing growl. "You’re going to fucking erupt. You’re going to cover every last inch of us in that disgusting, potent seed you’ve been brewing inside that freakish cock of yours. Do you understand? This isn't about your pleasure. This is about ours. This is your sole purpose." Her fingers tighten on your balls, her thumb pressing hard and deep into the sensitive perineum, making you cry out. "Now. Explode for your queen, you worthless piece of meat!"
Her hand on your shaft speeds up to match Yuna's frenetic pace. Both of them are now a dizzying blur of motion, tugging, stroking, squeezing, their combined efforts an exquisite torture. Karina latches her mouth onto the entire head of your cock, sucking with a primal, vacuum-like force that steals your breath, her tongue a rough, insistent pressure coiling around the shaft. Yuna’s ecstatic giggles turn into sharp, needy moans as she feels the tell-tale, unstoppable convulsions starting deep within your groin, traveling up the base of your cock. Sullyoon and Karina press closer, a tangle of limbs and desperate hands, their touch now almost frantic, greedy, fingers grabbing at your thighs, your stomach, your hips, anywhere they can make contact, as if trying to absorb your impending orgasm through sheer proximity.
"He's doing it! He's really gonna blow! Oh my god, look at him shake!" Yuna screams.
"Fucking finally!" Wonyoung growls stroking your cock. "Give it to your queen, you pathetic mutt! Give me every last fucking drop!"
And then it happens. Your vision whites out completely. A guttural, inhuman roar tears from your throat, a sound you don’t even recognize as your own, echoing off the walls of the luxurious apartment. Your hips buck uncontrollably, a violent, spastic jerk that nearly throws the girls off you.
The first jet of your cum shoots out with impossible, almost painful force, thick as cream and blindingly white. It splatters directly onto Wonyoung’s perfectly sculpted face. She barely flinches, just lets out a choked gasp, her eyes widening for a split second in surprise at the sheer power before they narrow again in dark triumph. Your hot seed is already dripping from her chin, smeared across her cheek, mixed with her saliva, a victorious smirk plastered on her semen-streaked face. "Yes! That's it, you filthy animal! Fucking drown me!"
Another jet follows, then another, and another, each one seemingly hotter, thicker, more voluminous than the last. You're a fucking firehose, completely and utterly out of control, your body just a vessel for this unstoppable eruption.
"My turn! My turn! Hit me with that fucking load!!" Sullyoon screams, scrambling forward with surprising agility, her usually angelic face now contorted into a mask of fierce, desperate need. She positions herself right in the line of fire, her small hands cupping her equally small breasts, her mouth wide open like a baby bird. A thick rope of your cum arcs through the air and lands squarely on her chest, another jet splattering across her cheek and directly into her parted lips. She gasps, a delighted, messy sound, already licking it up with greedy swipes of her tongue. "Oh my god... it's so much... so warm... and it tastes… amazing!"
"Don't you dare forget me!" Karina cries out. She’s pushing past Sullyoon, her eyes fixed on your still-spewing cock like it’s the only thing in the world. "Please! I need it! I earned this!" A fresh torrent of your seed catches her full in the face, soaking her hair, plastering it to her forehead, coating her eyelashes, and dripping in thick streams into her open, gasping mouth. She moans, a long, shuddering, broken sound, tears welling in her eyes (whether from the impact or sheer overwhelming emotion, you can’t tell) as she swallows convulsively, then licks her lips with a dazed, almost worshipful expression on her cum-painted face.
Yuna is practically vibrating beside you, her hands still gripping your shaft, trying to aim the spray, though it’s bucking too wildly for any real control. "Fuck yes! Me next! Fucking drown me in it, you goddamn animal!" she yells, practically shoving Karina aside to get closer. You oblige without conscious thought, another powerful surge coating her face, her neck, her small, perky tits that are now glistening under a thick layer of your seed. She throws her head back and laughs, a wild, uninhibited, joyous sound, as your cum drips down her body like a perverse baptism. "It’s like a fucking geyser! I've never seen anything like this! He's a cum machine!"
Jet after jet after jet, it just keeps coming, an unending, impossible flood. You’re emptying yourself completely, your balls cinching tight, contracting painfully with each pulse, a hollow, almost unbearable ache spreading through your loins and up into your stomach. The girls are an absolute mess, drenched, glistening, their perfect idol skin smeared and utterly coated with your thick, white seed. They’re not even trying to be neat or dignified anymore; they’re reveling in it, laughing, moaning, smearing it on each other.
"Holy shit," Wonyoung says, breathless for once, a genuine note of awe in it. She looks down at her own cum-splattered chest and hands. "He really was full. Fucking packed to the rafters." A small, almost proud smile touches her lips. "Good boy." She slowly wipes a thick smear of cum from her perfect lips with a thumb and licks it clean with deliberate, sensual slowness.
Finally, with one last, shuddering, weaker pulse, you’re empty. Utterly spent. Your cock twitches pathetically, still painfully hard but no longer gushing, merely slick and dripping with their combined spit and your own rapidly cooling load. You sag forward, gasping for breath, your entire body trembling from the sheer intensity of the release, black spots dancing in front of your eyes. The room slowly comes back into focus, filled with the sounds of their ragged panting, their wet, satisfied laughter, and the overwhelmingly pungent, salty-sweet smell of your spilled seed..
"Fuck," Yuna breathes, looking down at your dick, which is still defiantly, impressively erect despite the massive load you just shot. "Is it... is it still hard? After all that?" She reaches out a tentative, cum-slicked finger and pokes the head. Your cock gives a noticeable throb in response. Yuna’s eyes widen. "Oh my god. It is still hard." She looks up, her eyes meeting Wonyoung’s, then Sullyoon’s, then Karina’s. "Girls... I think our toy isn't done playing yet."
Sullyoon crawls closer. "No way... really? Can he go again?"
Karina, looking utterly debauched and surprisingly radiant under her coating of your cum, nods enthusiastically. "He has to! That was... that was incredible. I want more."
They all start to speak at once, their voices a chorus of greedy demands.
"More, toy!"
"Don't tell me you're finished!"
"You’ve got more in there for us, don't you?"
"Come on, freak, give us another load!"
Wonyoung silences them with a raised hand. She leans close to you again, that imperious glint back in her eyes, her gaze dropping to your still-throbbing erection. Her hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around your slick shaft. "You heard them," she says. "They're not satisfied. And frankly," she gives your cock a slow, deliberate stroke, "neither am I."
Her other hand comes up, and with a speed that surprises you, she delivers a sharp, stinging slap right across the head of your dick. A choked gasp tears from your lips, your hips instinctively jerking. The pain is shocking, but it’s instantly followed by a wave of intense, almost unbearable pleasure. Your cock pulses violently in her grip.
"Oh, you like that, don't you?" Wonyoung sneers. "Like being roughed up a little? Like being reminded you’re just our fuck-meat?" Another slap, harder this time, landing on the already hypersensitive tip. You cry out, a raw, helpless sound.
"Answer me, slut!" she barks.
"Y-yes," you gasp out, shame and arousal warring within you. "Yes, I like it..."
"Pathetic," she spits, but her lips are curved into a satisfied smile. She continues to stroke you with one hand, her rhythm firm and steady, while the other delivers a relentless series of slaps. Each impact sends jolts of pure, agonizing pleasure through your system. Your balls are tightening again, an impossible ache building deep inside. The girls are watching, breathless, their faces a mixture of shock and intense arousal. Yuna is openly touching herself, her fingers disappearing between her cum-smeared thighs. Sullyoon is biting her lip so hard it’s a wonder it’s not bleeding. Karina is just staring, her mouth slightly agape.
"Beg for it," Wonyoung commands, her strokes becoming faster, her slaps more precise, each one aimed at the most sensitive parts of your cock. "Beg me to let you cum again, you disgusting freak."
"Please," you groan, "Please, Wonyoung... let me cum... I need to..."
SMACK! This one is directly on the slit, a brutal, stinging impact.
Your vision explodes in white light. You can’t hold it back any longer.
With a strangled scream, you erupt again. It’s not the voluminous flood from before, but it’s thick, ropy, and impossibly potent, shooting out in desperate, pulsing spurts.
Wonyoung doesn’t flinch, doesn't stop stroking, doesn’t stop slapping. She just watches, a terrifyingly beautiful goddess of pleasure and pain, as your second load sprays across her hand, her arm, adding to the sticky mess already coating her.
The other girls cry out in unison, scrambling closer, mouths open, hands outstretched, desperate to catch any stray drops. Yuna manages to get her mouth under the stream for a moment, swallowing greedily, while Sullyoon and Karina try to catch the ropes of semen on their tongues, their faces eager and flushed.
It goes on and on, your body wracked with spasms, your mind completely gone, lost in a whirlwind of humiliation and ecstasy. More slaps, more strokes, more cum, until you’re utterly, completely drained, gasping for air, your vision blurry.
They’re all around you, closer now, their bodies slick and gleaming, their faces alight with a primal satisfaction. Wonyoung finally lets go of your now semi-flaccid, thoroughly abused cock, a triumphant smirk on her lips.
"Good boy," she purrs, wiping a fresh glob of your cum from her cheek and licking it from her fingers. "You finally learned how to be useful."
Instead of rushing to clean up properly, they start playing. Yuna, giggling like a maniac, licks a thick glob of your cum from Sullyoon’s small, firm breast. "Mmm, salty," she declares, then dives in to suckle the nipple, her tongue swirling. Sullyoon moans, arching into it, her hands coming up to smear more of your sticky seed from her stomach onto Yuna’s cheek.
"You’re such a nasty whore, Yuna." Sullyoon laughs.
Karina, looking dazed but with a soft smile playing on her lips, tentatively licks a streak of cum from her own arm. Wonyoung watches them for a moment, a rare, almost fond smirk on her face, before she grabs Karina’s wrist. "Don't waste it, idiot," she says, then pulls Karina’s hand to her own mouth, licking the cum from Karina's skin with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue, her eyes daring Karina to react. Karina just shivers, her cheeks flushing a deeper red.
It’s an insane, beautiful, disgusting sight. Four of the most lusted-after women on the planet, acting like depraved sluts, covered head-to-toe in your fucking seed.
Your legs finally give out. You collapse onto the massive bed, your body a dead weight, every muscle screaming in protest. Exhaustion hits hard a deep, boneless fatigue that makes even breathing feel like an effort.
One by one, the girls, still sticky and laughing, crawl onto the bed around you, their combined weight making the mattress sag. They’re not careful, their cum-smeared bodies pressing against you, against the pristine grey duvet, leaving wet, pearly patches everywhere. Yuna flops down beside you, throwing a sticky arm over your chest. Sullyoon curls up on your other side, resting her head on your shoulder, her hair damp with sweat and semen. Karina hesitates, then slowly settles at the foot of the bed, leaning against your legs. Wonyoung, of course, perches at the head, looking down at all of you like a queen surveying her messy, sated kingdom.
"I... I can't believe this actually happened," you manage to croak out.
Karina looks at you, her eyes soft, a genuine concern in them. "Are you... are you good? You look wrecked."
"Yeah," you sigh, your head lolling to the side. "Just... exhausted. Completely fucking drained."
"Aren't we all," Yuna groans, nuzzling her face into your chest. "But holy shit, that was... incredible. Best night of my life, no joke."
Sullyoon nods against your shoulder. "Definitely the most... memorable."
"I think... I think it was worth it after all, having been deceived by Karina just to be used by you, girls," you admit, a tired smile touching your lips as you look at Karina.
Karina’s expression flickers. "You’re... you’re not mad? That I tricked you? Lied to you?"
Before you can answer, Wonyoung cuts in. "Mad? He should be on his fucking knees thanking us. Grateful that he had the privilege of spending a night with us, serving a purpose. Most losers only dream of this, and he got to live it. He got to empty his pathetic balls into K-pop royalty."
Yuna and Sullyoon murmur their agreement. "She's right, you know," Yuna says, patting your cheek with a sticky hand. "You hit the jackpot, toy."
"So, how's that pretty little ass of yours feeling, Jimin?" Wonyoung asks, her gaze shifting to Karina, a cruel amusement dancing in her eyes.
Karina shifts uncomfortably, wincing. "It’s... burning. A lot. Like, really a lot."
"Good," Wonyoung says, utterly unsympathetic. "It'll hurt even more tomorrow. And the day after that. Maybe then you'll learn your lesson about exaggerating dick sizes to me. Or lying in general."
Karina sighs, a weary sound that’s tinged with exasperation. "You’re a fucking maniac, Wonyoung. You know that, right?"
Wonyoung’s smile is pure, unadulterated wickedness. "Yes, I do," she purrs. "A total, unrepentant maniac. But," she spreads her arms, gesturing to the cum-soaked bed, the exhausted bodies, the lingering scent of raw sex, "I also organize the best group sex you’ll ever have. And all you bitches fucking love it."
Yuna pushes herself up on her elbows. "Fuck yes, we do, Queen Wony!" she practically screams. "Holy shit, this was… this was next level. I thought I knew what good dick was, but this," she gestures vaguely towards your groin with a cum-stained hand, "this little freak that Karina brought us? And everything you made us do to him? And what you made him do to us?" She shivers, a full-body tremor. "My cunt is still twitching just thinking about it. My face is a glazed fucking donut of his spunk, and I've never felt hotter. You're a goddamn visionary, Wonyoung. A cruel, twisted, dick-obsessed visionary, and I fucking worship you for it!" She collapses back onto you with a happy sigh, nuzzling her sticky face into your neck.
Sullyoon, curled beside you, nods slowly. "She's right, Wony.” Her fingers, still tracing absentminded patterns on your cum-smeared arm, tighten slightly. "I… I’ve never experienced anything like tonight. Ever." A shy, almost guilty smile touches her lips. "When you… when you made him put his hand on my throat while he was… inside me… and then when Karina was screaming while you plugged her…" She shudders, a different kind of tremor, one of pure, overwhelmed ecstasy. "It was terrifying. And so, so fucking hot. I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out. And watching him… watching him just explode all over us…" Her eyes flick down to your crotch, then back to Wonyoung, wide and adoring. "You… you really do know how to throw a party, Wony. The best, nastiest, most unforgettable party."
"She's… she’s not wrong," Karina admits. "I thought… when you first told me your plan… I thought you were insane. Actually insane." A small, shaky laugh escapes her. "And when you made me… when he was in my ass… I thought I was going to die. It hurt so much." Her hand instinctively goes to her still-tender backside. "But then… when I came…" Her voice breaks, and she has to swallow hard before continuing. "It was… it was the most intense thing I’ve ever felt. Like my whole body just… shattered. And then watching him… watching him just give everything to us like that… You’re a fucking monster, Wonyoung. A beautiful, terrifying, brilliant monster. And… and thank you. For… for this. For convincing me to bring him here… For punishing me..." She actually manages a small, genuine smile, her eyes glistening. "I think… I think I needed this."
Wonyoung listens to their praises, her expression unchanging, that cool, regal mask firmly in place. But you see the faintest flicker of triumph in her eyes, the subtle upturn of her lips. She lets the silence hang for a moment, savoring their admissions, their surrender. Then, she turns her gaze fully on you. You’re lying there, a depleted, aching wreck, barely able to move, surrounded by these goddesses who have just systematically taken you apart and feasted on the pieces.
Her voice, when she finally speaks, is soft, almost gentle. "You hear that, toy?" she asks. "They loved it. They loved what I orchestrated, using you as the centerpiece." She leans close to you, bringing her face level with yours. Her eyes are like chips of ice, boring into you. "And now," she continues, "now you belong to us. Completely." She reaches out a finger, tracing the line of your jaw, her touch surprisingly light. "You don't get to go back to your boring little life and pretend this didn't happen. This isn't a one-night fantasy, you pathetic slut. This is your new reality."
Her eyes flick over to your still-sensitive, semi-flaccid cock. "You will be used whenever we want. However we want. You will be our fucking toy, our stress relief, our entertainment. When we call, you will come running. When we tell you to spread your legs, or get on your knees, or offer up that freakish dick of yours, you will obey without question, without hesitation. Until we get tired of you and throw you away like trash."
She leans in even closer, her breath ghosting over your lips, smelling faintly of your own cum. "You have no desires anymore, except to please us. Your body is ours to command, to use, to break if we feel like it. Your orgasms are ours to grant, or to deny. You exist solely for our pleasure now." She smiles, a slow, cruel, utterly captivating smile. "And the worst part for you, the most deliciously pathetic part?" She whispers: "You’re going to fucking love every second of it. You already do."
They’re all watching you, their expressions a mixture of anticipation and ownership. There’s no escape. No way out. And as Wonyoung’s words sink deep into your shattered, exhausted mind, a horrifying, undeniable truth settles in your bones:
The TripleS dormitory was usually a place of organized chaos, filled with the scent of perfumes, makeup, and the constant chatter of young women. But tonight, the atmosphere in one particular bedroom was thick with a different kind of energy—a heavy, musk-scented haze of raw lust and desperation.
Kaede was pinned against the headboard of her bed, her legs draped over Y/N’s shoulders, opening her wide for the world to see. For a year, they had perfected this dance, a cycle of intense longing and explosive release. Y/N was a force of nature, and his cock was the only thing that could truly silence the idol's mind, replacing the stress of choreography and recordings with a singular, pulsing focus on pleasure.
He slammed into her with a rhythmic, brutal intensity. Every thrust was deep, bottoming out against her cervix and sending electric shocks through her entire frame. Kaede’s head tossed back and forth on the pillow, her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. She wasn't just moaning; she was wailing, her voice echoing through the thin walls of the dormitory.
"Ah! Oh god, Y/N! Right there! Fuck me harder!" she screamed, her fingers digging deep into his biceps, leaving red crescent marks. "Yes! Give it to me! Fill me up!"
The sound of their bodies colliding—the wet, slapping noise of skin hitting skin—was rhythmic and relentless. Kaede was completely undone, her body arching like a bow every time he hit that sweet spot. She felt her walls clenching around him, milking him with every desperate spasm. "I can't… I can't take it! It's too big… ahhh! I'm coming! I'm coming!"
She exploded into a violent orgasm, her internal muscles gripping his shaft in tight, rhythmic pulses. Her screams peaked, a high-pitched, breathless sound of pure surrender as she shuddered beneath him, her vision blurring into white light.
In the room next door, the romantic movie playing on the laptop was completely forgotten. Hyerin and Sullin were sitting close together on the bed, but they weren't paying attention to the screen. Their entire focus was tuned to the wall they shared with Kaede.
Hyerin was leaning back against the wall, her breath coming in shallow hitches. She could hear everything—the bed frame creaking violently, the wet sounds of penetration, and most of all, Kaede’s unfiltered, primal screams. It was a sound of absolute pleasure, a sound that made Hyerin’s own core throb with a sudden, aching emptiness.
"Do you hear that?" Hyerin whispered, her voice trembling. She shifted her position, rubbing her thighs together. "She sounds… she sounds like she's dying and being born at the same time."
Sullin was curled up beside her, her face flushed a deep crimson. She had her hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pajama shorts, her fingers working frantically against her own clitoris. Every time Kaede let out a particularly loud moan, Sullin’s hips jerked involuntarily.
"I can't stop thinking about it," Sullin whimpered, her voice thick with arousal. "I can imagine him… just hammering into her like that. He must be huge to make Kaede-unnie scream like that. I bet he's just… stretching her open."
Hyerin turned to look at Sullin, seeing the glazed look in her eyes and the way her chest heaved. The tension between the two girls shifted from mere curiosity to a shared, burning hunger. Hyerin reached over, sliding her hand over Sullin’s breast, squeezing the soft flesh through the fabric of her shirt.
"Imagine if it was us," Hyerin murmured, leaning closer until their lips were almost touching. "Imagine that cock sliding into us instead. I want to feel that kind of power. I want to know why she's making those sounds."
Sullin let out a soft moan, leaning into Hyerin’s touch. "You think he'd… you think he'd want us? He's Kaede-unnie's."
"He's a man, Sullin," Hyerin whispered, her eyes darkening. "And we're right here. We're young, we're hungry… and we're listening to him fuck our friend. It's driving me crazy. I can feel my pussy dripping just listening to them."
Sullin gasped, her fingers moving faster. "Me too. I'm so wet… I just want to feel him stretch me. I want to hear him groan in my ear while he ruins me."
The two girls spent the next hour in a state of heightened arousal, feeding off each other's fantasies while the sounds from the next room continued. They whispered dirty things to one another, describing exactly how they would take Y/N, how they would compete for his attention, and how they would let him use their bodies until they were as spent and broken as Kaede sounded.
Eventually, the noise subsided. The sounds of heavy breathing and afterglow whispers drifted through the wall, followed by the sound of Y/N dressing and eventually leaving the room.
Kaede remained in her room for a while, floating in the hazy aftermath of her climax. When she finally emerged to head to the kitchen for some water, she found Hyerin and Sullin waiting for her in the hallway.
The sight of them stopped her in her tracks. Both girls looked disheveled; their hair was messy, their cheeks were flushed, and there was a predatory, hungry look in their eyes that Kaede had never seen before. They weren't looking at her as their unnie; they were looking at her as the gatekeeper to the man who had just spent the last hour ravishing her.
"Unnie," Hyerin started, her voice low and slightly husky. She stepped closer, her eyes scanning Kaede’s swollen lips and the slight tremor still present in her legs. "We heard everything."
Kaede froze, her face turning bright red. "You… you did? Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize we were being that loud…"
Sullin stepped forward, her gaze intense. "Don't be sorry, unnie. It sounded… incredible. We couldn't even focus on our movie. We couldn't focus on anything except the sound of him inside you."
Kaede blinked, surprised by the bluntness. "What do you mean?"
Hyerin reached out, gently touching Kaede’s arm. "We're horny, Kaede. Really horny. And knowing that Y/N is the one making you scream like that… it's done something to us. We can't stop thinking about him."
Sullin leaned in, her voice a desperate plea. "Please, unnie. We know he's your boyfriend, and we know it's a lot to ask… but could you let us? Could you let us seduce him? We want to feel him. We want to know what it's like to be fucked by him."
Kaede felt a wave of conflict wash over her. On one hand, Y/N was hers. On the other, she looked at her two bandmates—beautiful, longing, and clearly aching for release. She felt a sudden pang of guilt. She was the only one in the dorm with a partner, the only one getting her needs met in such an explosive way. Seeing them so flushed and desperate made her heart ache with a strange kind of empathy.
She looked from Hyerin to Sullin, seeing the raw desire in their eyes. A naughty, daring thought crossed her mind. Why should she be the only one to enjoy him? If she shared him, it wouldn't mean she loved him less—it would just mean more pleasure for everyone involved.
A small, mischievous smile played on Kaede’s lips as she looked at the two girls.
"You both really want him that badly?" Kaede asked, her voice softening.
Hyerin and Sullin nodded vigorously, their breath hitching in anticipation.
Kaede sighed, a playful glint in her eyes. "Fine. I can't have my members walking around this dorm in such a state of frustration. I'll let you have him. You can both try to seduce him next time he comes over."
The next evening, Y/N arrived at the TripleS dormitory with a familiar, pulsing anticipation between his legs. His mind was already racing, imagining the various ways he would bend Kaede over her bed and the high-pitched, desperate screams she would let out as he hammered into her. He let himself in, moving with the confidence of a man who had spent a year claiming this territory, and headed straight for Kaede’s room.
When he pushed the door open, however, he stopped dead. Kaede wasn't waiting for him in a lace bra-panties set or stripped bare. She was fully clothed in a casual oversized sweater and leggings, sitting on the edge of her bed with a playful, mysterious smile on her face.
"Hey, babe," she said, her voice humming with a secret.
Y/N blinked, confused. "What's… what's going on? You're dressed. I thought we were going to get straight to it."
Kaede chuckled, her thumbs flying across her phone screen. She was sending a quick text to Hyerin and Sullin, telling them to get into position right outside the door. "I have a surprise for you, Y/N. A very special one."
Y/N felt a sudden spike of anxiety. His mind flashed back to a few weeks prior, a moment where he had let his gaze linger a bit too long on Sullin’s thick, powerful thighs while she was practicing a dance routine. He wondered if she had told Kaede, or if Kaede had caught him staring. He felt his face heat up, a wave of embarrassment washing over him.
"Look, if this is about… you know… Sullin," Y/N stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just—"
Kaede burst out laughing, standing up and walking toward him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. "Oh, you sweet, idiot man. I know you like those thighs. I've seen the way you look at her. And honestly? I don't mind."
Y/N looked at her, bewildered. "You don't?"
"No," Kaede whispered, her eyes gleaming. "I love you, and I love my girls. I've been the only one getting my needs met in this house, and it feels selfish. Hyerin and Sullin are so stressed, so tense… and they're so incredibly horny for you. I want them to be happy. I want them to be well taken care of. So tonight, I'm sharing."
Before Y/N could even process the words, the door creaked open. Hyerin and Sullin stepped inside, and the air in the room instantly shifted, becoming heavy with a thick, electric charge of lust. Both girls were dressed in skimpy sleepwear that left very little to the imagination. Hyerin was in a sheer camisole, her nipples poking through the fabric, while Sullin wore short silk shorts that struggled to contain the lush curve of her thick thighs.
"Hi, Y/N," Hyerin purred, her voice a low, sultry vibration.
Sullin didn't even speak; she moved in like a predator. She stepped behind Y/N, her soft breasts pressing against his back as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She tilted her head up, her lips finding the sensitive skin of his neck, sucking and biting softly, sending jolts of electricity straight to his groin.
At the same time, Hyerin stepped in front of him. Her eyes were locked onto his, dark and dilated. She reached down, her hand sliding firmly over the front of his jeans. She groaned as she felt the massive, hard bulge of his cock straining against the denim. She began to palm him, squeezing and rubbing the length of his shaft through the fabric, her movements slow and deliberate.
"God, you're so hard already," Hyerin whispered, her breath hot against his lips. "We've been dreaming about this since yesterday. We couldn't stop thinking about the sounds Kaede-unnie was making."
Y/N let out a low groan, his head falling back against Sullin’s shoulder. The double assault was overwhelming. He looked at Kaede, who was watching them with a look of pure, voyeuristic satisfaction.
"Go on," Kaede whispered, gesturing toward the door. "Take him to your room. I'll be watching from the hallway."
The two girls didn't need to be told twice. They practically dragged Y/N out of the room and into their shared space. The moment the door clicked shut, the restraint vanished. Hyerin and Sullin fell upon him with a feral intensity. They worked together, their small hands frantic as they fumbled with his belt and zipped down his pants.
When his cock finally sprang free, thick and pulsing, both girls gasped. It was even more impressive than they had imagined from the sounds they'd heard through the wall.
"Look at it," Sullin whimpered, her eyes wide. "It's huge."
They dropped to their knees simultaneously. The scene became a blur of wet, sloppy sounds. Hyerin took the head, her tongue swirling around the crown, licking the pre-cum with a hungry desperation. Sullin dove lower, her mouth engulfing the base, her tongue licking the veins that ran along the shaft.
They began to share him, their lips meeting and clashing as they fought for space on his cock. It was a wild, sloppy exchange of saliva and lust, their tongues tangling together while they sucked him with everything they had. Y/N gripped their hair, his hips jerking involuntarily as the vacuum of their mouths worked him over.
"I want it first!" Sullin suddenly gasped, pulling away for a second, her lips glistening with his fluids. "I can't wait anymore! I need it inside me!"
Hyerin glared at her, her own pussy dripping through her panties. "No fair! I was the one who got him hard!"
Sullin’s eyes flashed with desperation. She knew she had to make a deal. "Hyerin! If you let me go first, I swear… I'll eat your pussy every single night for the rest of the week. Every. Single. Night. Until you're shaking."
Hyerin paused, her breath hitching. The thought of Sullin’s tongue on her for a week was too tempting to pass up. She let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Deal. Go on then, you greedy bitch."
Sullin didn't waste a heartbeat. She stood up, stripping off her silk shorts and panties in one fluid motion, revealing a plump, soaking wet pussy and those legendary thick thighs. She walked over to the sturdy wooden desk in the corner of the room and hiked herself up, sitting on the edge with her legs spread wide, exposing her glistening folds to the air.
"Come here, Y/N," she begged, her voice breaking. "Please… fuck me. Stretch me open. I want to feel every inch of you."
Y/N didn't need further invitation. He stepped between her legs, his cock throbbing. He gripped her thick thighs, pulling her to the very edge of the desk, and with one powerful, driving thrust, he buried himself deep inside her.
"OH GOD! YES!" Sullin screamed, her back arching, her fingers digging into the wood of the desk. "FUCK! You're so big! You're filling me up completely!"
Y/N began to move, his strokes long and punishing. He bottomed out with every thrust, the sound of their bodies colliding—the wet, slapping noise of his balls hitting her ass—filling the room. Sullin’s legs locked around his waist, her powerful thighs squeezing him tight, pulling him deeper into her heat.
Meanwhile, Hyerin had retreated to the bed. She lay back, her legs spread, her fingers working her own clitoris in a frantic rhythm. She wasn't just watching; she was directing.
"Harder, Y/N! Give it to her harder!" Hyerin commanded, her voice strained with arousal. "Sullin, look at him! Look at how he's ruining you! Tell him how it feels! Tell him how much you love being stretched!"
"It's… ahhh! It's too much! I love it!" Sullin wailed, her voice echoing through the dormitory. "Fuck me harder, Y/N! Break me! Make the whole house hear me!"
Y/N obeyed, his pace becoming brutal. He hammered into Sullin with a rhythmic, violent intensity. The desk began to shake under the force of his thrusts, the heavy furniture rattling against the wall. The vibrations traveled through the floor and into the walls, the sound of Sullin’s primal moans carrying through the vents and hallways.
The noise was impossible to ignore. In a room further down the hallway, Jiwoo and Yubin were already locked in their own battle of pleasure. Jiwoo, possessing a thick, impressive girl cock, had Yubin pinned against the wall, her legs wrapped around Jiwoo's waist.
Jiwoo was pounding into Yubin's pussy with a relentless drive, her movements mirrored by Yubin's frantic gasps. But as Sullin’s screams began to filter through the walls, something shifted. Hearing the raw, unfiltered lust of their groupmate—hearing the sounds of a man absolutely ravishing Sullin—sent a surge of adrenaline through Jiwoo.
"Listen to her, Yubin," Jiwoo groaned, her voice deep and guttural. "Sullin is getting fucked so hard… it's making me want to split you in half."
Yubin let out a loud moan, her head tossing back. "Yes! Do it! Fuck me like that! Make me scream as loud as she is!"
Driven by the auditory stimulation, Jiwoo gripped Yubin’s hips and began to slam into her with renewed vigor. The sound of their wet collisions joined the symphony of lust echoing through the dorm. Jiwoo’s cock buried itself deep, hitting Yubin’s cervix with every strike, making Yubin wail in a mixture of pain and absolute ecstasy.
Downstairs, the atmosphere was just as charged. Yeonji and Soomin were entwined on the couch, their clothes half-off. Soomin was perched in Yeonji’s lap, her legs wrapped around her, grinding her soaking wet pussy against Yeonji’s thigh.
They were kissing furiously, a desperate, tongue-clashing battle for dominance. Their breaths were shallow, their hearts racing. As the sounds of the threesome upstairs reached a crescendo—the rattling of the desk, the screams of Sullin, the commands of Hyerin—Soomin let out a whimper of pure need.
"Do you hear them?" Soomin whispered against Yeonji's lips, her body shivering. "The whole house… it's like the air is on fire."
Yeonji groaned, her hands sliding under Soomin’s shirt to squeeze her breasts. "It's driving me crazy. I can feel you dripping on me, Soomin. You're so wet."
Soomin responded by grinding her hips harder, her clitoris rubbing against Yeonji’s leg in a frantic search for friction. They dove back into their kiss, their tongues swirling, their bodies fusing together as they fed off the collective arousal vibrating through the building.
Back in the bedroom, Sullin was reaching her limit. Y/N’s relentless pounding had her vision blurring. Her internal muscles were clenching around him in tight, desperate spasms.
"I'm coming! I'm coming! OH GOD, Y/N!" Sullin screamed, her voice peaking in a high-pitched wail of surrender. Her body shuddered violently, her pussy milking his cock in a series of powerful, rhythmic pulses that nearly brought Y/N to his own climax.
As Sullin collapsed against the desk, panting and spent, Y/N slowly withdrew from her, leaving her gaping and dripping. He turned his attention to Hyerin, who was practically vibrating on the bed, her pussy glistening and her eyes wild.
Y/N walked over, intending to drop to his knees and eat her out, but Hyerin was too fast. As he leaned in, she reached up, grabbed his shoulders with surprising strength, and threw him backward onto the bed.
"My turn," she hissed.
Before he could react, Hyerin mounted him. She turned around, positioning herself in a reverse cowgirl, her back to his face. She gripped his thighs for balance and slowly, deliberately, lowered herself onto his still-rock-hard cock.
"Ahhh!" Hyerin gasped, her eyes rolling back as she felt him slide inside her. "Oh god… you're so thick… you're even bigger than Sullin said."
Hyerin began to fuck herself, her hips moving in a circular, grinding motion that maximized the friction against her clitoris. She leaned forward, her breasts swaying, her ass bouncing rhythmically against Y/N’s lap. She was in total control, her moans filling the room as she chased her own peak.
Y/N reached up, his hands finding her waist, then sliding up to grab her hands, locking them behind her head to pull her chest back, giving him a better view of her arching spine.
Sullin, finally recovering from her own orgasm, crawled over to the bed. She saw Hyerin’s pussy being hammered by Y/N’s cock from below and felt a fresh wave of desire. She slid under the bed, positioning herself between Hyerin’s legs.
Without warning, Sullin buried her face in Hyerin’s soaking wet folds, her tongue lashing out to find the clitoris.
"OH! OH MY GOD!" Hyerin screamed, her entire body jolting. The double stimulation—Y/N’s cock filling her from behind and Sullin’s tongue flickering over her clit from below—was too much.
Hyerin began to moan like crazy, her voice joining the chorus of the house. She accelerated her pace, her hips slamming down onto Y/N with desperate force, her screams echoing the wild, uncensored lust that had completely overtaken the TripleS dormitory.
The air in the TripleS dormitory had reached a breaking point, a thick, suffocating haze of pheromones, sweat, and the raw, metallic scent of arousal. The walls, once boundaries of privacy, had become mere conductors for the symphony of carnal noise. Hyerin’s screams were the current peak, her body slamming down on Y/N with a rhythmic, desperate violence that shook the very floorboards. But for Kaede, the sound wasn't enough. The aftermath of her own climax had left her in a state of hyper-awareness, her skin tingling, her nerves on fire, and a voyeuristic hunger clawing at her insides.
She couldn't stay still. The dormitory had transformed into a labyrinth of pleasure, and Kaede felt an irresistible urge to explore every corner of it. She stepped out into the hallway, her feet bare on the cool floor, her own body still glistening with the remnants of her encounter. She moved like a predator, her breath shallow, her eyes wide and dilated as she followed the sounds of wet friction and guttural moans.
The first sound that drew her was a rhythmic, heavy slap-slap-slap coming from Jiwoo and Yubin’s room. Kaede paused at the door, her heart hammering against her ribs. She didn't knock; she simply pushed the door open a crack, peering inside.
The sight that greeted her was enough to make her knees buckle. Yubin was draped across the bed on her belly, her face pressed into the pillows, her back arched in a desperate curve. Jiwoo was positioned behind her, her expression one of focused, raw intensity. Jiwoo's thick cock was pistoning in and out of Yubin's wet opening. With every powerful thrust, her shaft disappeared completely into Yubin’s soaking pussy, the impact of their hips creating a loud, wet sound that echoed through the room.
Jiwoo wasn't just fucking her; she was dominating her. Jiwoo’s hands were buried deep in Yubin’s flesh, her fingers palming Yubin’s large, heavy tits, squeezing them with a bruising grip that left red marks on the pale skin. She was kneading them like dough, pulling Yubin back against the cock with every thrust, ensuring that the penetration was as deep and punishing as possible.
Yubin was losing her mind. Her moans were high-pitched, erratic, her voice breaking as she sobbed into the pillow. "Oh god, Jiwoo! Fuck… fuck me harder! Fill me up!"
As Kaede watched, frozen in a mixture of shock and arousal, Yubin shifted. She turned her head, her hair messy and damp with sweat, and her eyes locked onto Kaede standing in the doorway. For a heartbeat, time stopped. Instead of embarrassment, a flash of pure, exhibitionist heat crossed Yubin’s face. She didn't tell Kaede to leave; instead, Yubin let out a loud, provocative moan and gave Kaede a slow, deliberate wink.
Then, Yubin deliberately pushed her ass back, grinding her soaking wet pussy harder against Jiwoo’s cock, practically begging for the friction. The knowledge that Kaede—their unnie—was watching her be absolutely railed by Jiwoo sent Yubin over the edge. Her moans grew louder, more guttural, her voice echoing through the room as she screamed, "Look at me, Kaede! Look at how Jiwoo is fucking me!"
Jiwoo noticed the audience too, and it only fueled her fire. She gripped Yubin’s hips tighter, her fingers digging into the skin, and began to hammer into her with a renewed, violent passion. The bed frame groaned under the pressure, the sound of her cock slamming into Yubin’s depths becoming a frantic, wet percussion. Kaede stood there, her hand sliding down to her own clit, rubbing herself through her thin clothes as she watched the two lovers lose themselves in a display of uncensored lust.
But the hunger in Kaede wasn't sated; it was amplified. She backed away from the room, her mind racing, and followed the next set of screams. This time, the noise was coming from Sullin and Hyerin’s room—a chaotic blend of three different voices, a frantic energy that suggested a much larger encounter.
When Kaede pushed the door open, the scene was a blur of tangled limbs and flushed skin. Y/N was in the center of it, his cock buried deep inside Hyerin, who was riding him with a manic intensity. Sullin was draped across the bed, her legs spread wide, her face a mask of pure ecstasy as she watched them, her own hand working her clit in a blur of motion.
The moment Kaede entered, the energy in the room shifted. Sullin’s eyes snapped to her, her pupils blown wide. Kaede didn't say a word. She walked toward the bed with a predatory grace, her eyes locked on Sullin. Without hesitation, Kaede reached down and grabbed a handful of Sullin’s hair, pulling her head back with a sharp tug that forced a gasp of surprise and pleasure from the younger girl.
Kaede shoved Sullin down onto the mattress, pinning her there. "You've been wanting this, haven't you?" Kaede whispered, her voice a low, dangerous purr.
Sullin whimpered, her hips jerking upward. "Yes… please, Kaede-unnie… I need you."
Kaede didn't waste time. She dove down, her mouth finding Sullin’s breast. She latched onto the nipple, sucking it hard, her tongue swirling around the peak with a hungry intensity. Sullin screamed, her back arching off the bed, her fingers digging into Kaede’s shoulders. Kaede moved her mouth to Sullin’s neck, leaving a trail of biting kisses and wet licks, marking her territory while her hand slid down to Sullin’s pussy.
Sullin was already drenched, her juices soaking through her underwear. Kaede ripped the fabric aside, sliding two fingers deep into her tight, pulsing heat. Sullin’s voice joined the chorus of the house, her screams echoing as Kaede worked her fingers in a fast, rhythmic motion, hitting the G-spot with precision.
Meanwhile, the dynamic on the bed shifted. Hyerin, seeing the intensity of Kaede and Sullin’s interaction, felt a surge of competitive lust. She didn't want to just be the one riding; she wanted to be the bridge. Hyerin shifted her position, turning around and sliding back down onto Y/N’s cock in a traditional cowgirl position, facing Sullin and Kaede.
Now, Hyerin was facing them, her breasts swinging with every heavy bounce. She slammed her hips down onto Y/N, her pussy clamping tight around his shaft, while her arms reached out to pull Sullin closer.
"Come here, Sullin," Hyerin gasped, her voice thick with lust.
As Y/N continued to hammer into Hyerin from below, Hyerin leaned forward, her lips meeting Sullin’s in a deep, sloppy kiss. Sullin was caught in a sandwich of pleasure—Kaede’s fingers ravishing her pussy from below and Hyerin’s mouth claiming her lips from above.
The scene was absolute carnage. Y/N was grunting, his hands gripping Hyerin’s waist, driving himself upward into her with every ounce of strength he had. Hyerin was moaning into Sullin’s mouth, her body shaking as she felt Y/N’s cock hitting her cervix. Sullin was sobbing, her head tossing from side to side, her body vibrating under Kaede’s relentless stimulation.
"Fuck… I can't… I'm going to come!" Sullin shrieked, her voice breaking.
Kaede increased the pace, her fingers curling inside Sullin, stretching her open, while her mouth returned to Sullin’s tits, biting and sucking with a feral hunger. Hyerin accelerated her bouncing, her screams echoing through the room, her pussy gripping Y/N so hard that he groaned in agony and pleasure.
"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Hyerin screamed, her body stiffening as a massive orgasm ripped through her. At the same moment, Sullin’s body convulsed, her pussy clamping down on Kaede’s fingers in violent spasms as she peaked, her scream merging with Hyerin’s.
Y/N let out a guttural roar, his body locking up as he shot a massive load of cum deep inside Hyerin, filling her to the brim. Hyerin collapsed forward onto Sullin, both girls shaking and sobbing, their skin slick with a mixture of sweat, saliva, and lubrication.
Kaede pulled her fingers out of Sullin, the sound of the wet pop echoing in the sudden silence. She looked at the two girls, then at Y/N, her eyes still burning with an unquenchable fire. The dormitory was no longer a home; it was a temple of flesh, a place where every inhibition had been burned away.
As they lay there, panting and exhausted, the sounds from the other rooms continued—the distant thud of Jiwoo still fucking Yubin, the muffled moans of other members who had joined the fray. The air was saturated, a heavy, musk-filled atmosphere that clung to their skin. They were all connected now, bound by this shared, primal experience.
Kaede leaned over Sullin and Hyerin, her voice a breathless whisper. "We're not done yet."
The lust that had overtaken the TripleS dormitory wasn't just a moment of madness; it was a transformation. Every room was a battlefield of desire, every hallway a path to a new encounter. They had crossed a line from which there was no return, embracing a world where the only law was the pursuit of the next, harder, deeper thrust. The symphony of moans continued to rise, a wild, uncensored roar that signaled the complete surrender of the dormitory to the god of lust.
TripleS Sohyun & Xinyu X Male Reader Ft Yooyeon & Rami
Tags : Romance, High School Love, Teenage Love, Feelings, Bullies, Female Bully, Fluff, Drama,
Words : 5,354 Words
A Romance Story Request By My Friend @superkpopeditsgirlgroup Hope You all Enjoy it.
The hallways of the elite preparatory academy were always buzzing with a frantic, suffocating energy, driven by the relentless pursuit of perfection. The air was thick with the scent of floor wax, nervous sweat, and the sharp tang of freshly printed study guides. It was an environment designed to crush the weak and elevate the ruthless.
At the very top of this unforgiving academic hierarchy sat you. You were the undisputed king of the class rankings, a quiet, diligent student whose test scores were always a flawless, untouchable standard. You moved through the corridors like a ghost in a machine, entirely focused on your textbooks and your future.
But this isolation didn't bring you peace. Instead, it made you a target. You were a challenge, an enigma wrapped in a calm demeanor that drove certain people to the brink of insanity.
If you were the quiet academic king, Park Sohyun and Zhou Xinyu were the reigning queens of the school's social ecosystem. They were strikingly beautiful, fiercely intelligent in their own right, and entirely intimidating. They walked the halls with a synchronized, terrifying grace that parted crowds like the Red Sea.
And for reasons you initially couldn't fathom, they had made it their personal mission to ensure your high school life was anything but peaceful.
Sohyun’s heart would hammer violently against her ribs every single time she saw you. It wasn't a gentle flutter; it was a painful, frantic beat that made her feel physically ill. From her seat in the back of the classroom, she would watch the way you meticulously organized your notes.
To her, you were brilliant. You were flawless. And you were utterly terrifying. She would sit there, her hands gripping her pen so tightly her knuckles turned white, consumed by an overwhelming, suffocating sense of inadequacy.
If she were to walk up to you and tell you how her breath hitched every time you entered the room, she was convinced you would undoubtedly look at her with those calm, analytical eyes and reject her on the spot. The very thought of your rejection felt like a physical blow, a devastating public humiliation she couldn't survive.
So, instead of confessing, she built a fortress of hostility. She masked her crippling anxiety with biting sarcasm.
It was a Tuesday afternoon in the school library when Sohyun initiated her usual routine. The library was a cavernous space, smelling of old paper and dust, illuminated by shafts of golden afternoon sunlight.
You were sitting at your preferred corner table, deeply engrossed in a thick textbook regarding green logistics and sustainable supply chains. You were completely tuned out from the world around you, marking a page with a yellow highlighter.
Sohyun forced her trembling hands to steady as she marched over. She slammed her heavy history books down on the table directly across from you. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the quiet room.
You flinched slightly, your eyes slowly rising from the page to meet hers. You didn't say a word, just waited for the inevitable storm.
"Are you ever going to take a break, or is staring at a textbook the only personality trait you actually possess?" Sohyun asked. Her voice dripped with a rehearsed, venomous sweetness, though her heart was pounding so hard she thought you might hear it.
"I have a presentation for Kelompok 4 tomorrow," you replied calmly, your voice a smooth, steady baseline that completely contrasted her erratic energy. "I'm just reviewing the reverse logistics framework."
Sohyun scoffed, rolling her eyes to hide the fact that she was desperately trying to memorize the exact pitch of your voice. "Kelompok 4. Right. Because carrying eight other people on your back isn't enough of a tragic martyr complex for you."
"They do their part," you said softly, looking back down at your book. "It's a group effort."
"Oh, please," Sohyun mocked, leaning across the table and invading your personal space. She reached out and snatched the yellow highlighter right out of your fingers.
Her skin brushed yours for a fraction of a second, sending a violent jolt of electricity up her arm. She prayed to every deity she could think of that you didn't notice the way her breath hitched.
"I'll be confiscating this," she declared coldly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. "You're ruining the curve for everyone else in the grade. Consider this an intervention."
You looked at your empty hand, then up at her. "Sohyun, I need that to color-code the operational flowcharts."
"Then you should have thought about that before you decided to be so obnoxiously perfect," she shot back, twirling the highlighter between her fingers.
Inside, Sohyun was screaming at herself. The guilt was a heavy, suffocating blanket. She wanted to hand the marker back, gently brush her fingers against yours again, and apologize for being so unbelievably cruel. She wanted to ask you to explain the flowcharts to her, just so she could sit beside you and listen.
Instead, she watched you silently, patiently pull a cheap, smudging ballpoint pen from your bag and resume your work. She tucked your highlighter into her bag like a stolen treasure, her heart aching with a toxic mix of love and profound self-loathing.
Xinyu operated differently, though her internal turmoil was identical. Where Sohyun used passive-aggressive disruption, Xinyu used overwhelming, confrontational presence. Xinyu was taller, with a sharp, piercing gaze that made most students step out of her way without a second thought.
But whenever she saw you, her commanding exterior threatened to shatter into a million fragile pieces. The fear of being a mere annoyance to you mutated into a desperate, aggressive defense mechanism. If she couldn't be your equal, she would be your obstacle.
Later that week, the cafeteria was a chaotic sea of shouting teenagers and clattering trays. Xinyu spotted you navigating the crowd, carrying your tray with a quiet, intense focus, trying to avoid the chaos.
Her heart did a painful flip in her chest. The urge to run up, link her arm through yours, and pull you to her table was almost overwhelming. Instead, she forced her expression into a hard, unforgiving glare and stepped directly into your trajectory.
"Whoa!" you gasped, stumbling backward as Xinyu intentionally bumped her shoulder sharply against yours.
You barely caught your tray, though your carton of strawberry milk toppled over, spilling slightly onto the plastic. The surrounding students gasped, the immediate vicinity falling into a tense, expectant hush.
"Watch where you're going," Xinyu spat, her voice echoing loudly, masking the severe tremor in her hands.
You looked up at her, your brow furrowing in confusion. "You stepped right into my path, Xinyu."
"Are you calling me a liar?" she demanded, taking a step closer, completely invading your space. She looked you up and down, forcing her lip to curl in feigned disgust. "Maybe if you weren't so distracted by how incredibly tragic your outfit is, you would know how to walk in a straight line."
You looked down at your slightly oversized, faded gray sweater. "It's just a sweater. It's comfortable."
"It's a crime against humanity," Xinyu fired back, her voice harsh, even as her mind screamed at her to stop. She thought you looked incredibly endearing. She wanted to bury her face in the soft fabric of that sweater.
"I'll keep that in mind," you said softly. You didn't yell. You didn't argue. You merely adjusted your grip on your tray, offered her a small, unreadable nod, and walked around her.
As soon as your back was turned, Xinyu felt the familiar, crushing weight of immense guilt crash down on her shoulders. It felt like she couldn't breathe.
"Why do you do that?" a voice whispered from behind her. Xinyu whipped around to see Sohyun standing there, looking just as miserable.
"I don't know," Xinyu whispered back, her voice cracking. "He looked right at me, Sohyun. I panicked. I just… I completely panicked."
"You spilled his milk," Sohyun muttered, looking at the retreating back of your sweater. "He loves that strawberry milk."
"I know!" Xinyu hissed, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "I know I did. I'm a monster. He's going to hate me forever."
Watching this daily tragedy unfold from a completely different vantage point was Rami, a childhood friend of you and your older sister, Yooyeon. Rami was entirely detached from the school's social hierarchy, possessing a sharp, no-nonsense personality that cut through teenage drama with ease.
While visiting the school grounds one afternoon to drop off a forgotten textbook for you, she leaned against a set of blue metal lockers and observed the ecosystem of the hallway.
She saw you standing by a cork bulletin board. Within seconds, Xinyu was there, standing entirely too close to you, loudly criticizing the way your backpack was strapped. A few feet away, Sohyun was aggressively glaring at a younger freshman girl who had dared to wave at you.
Rami let out a long, heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose to stave off an incoming headache. The pathetic nature of it all was almost too much for her to bear.
She pushed off the lockers and walked right up to you, completely ignoring the immediate, territorial, hostile glares she received from both Sohyun and Xinyu.
"Here," Rami said, shoving the heavy textbook into your chest. "Yooyeon found it on the kitchen counter. Again."
"Thanks, Rami," you smiled, taking the book. "I owe you one."
Rami didn't smile back. She crossed her arms and glared over your shoulder at the two girls who were now pretending to examine the hinges of the lockers.
"Are you completely blind, or are you just a masochist?" Rami asked, not bothering to lower her voice.
You blinked, looking confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumb over there," Rami said, jutting her chin toward Sohyun and Xinyu. "They are completely obsessed with you. It's actually painful to watch."
You glanced over your shoulder. Sohyun visibly flinched, and Xinyu suddenly found the floor tiles fascinating.
"They aren't obsessed with me, Rami," you said with a soft sigh. "They just enjoy making my life difficult. It's a game to them."
"It's not a game," Rami argued, grabbing your arm to pull your attention back to her. "Look at them. Really look at them. They act like rabid dogs because they're too scared to just wag their tails. You shouldn't put up with it."
"I don't mind," you replied calmly.
"You don't mind being bullied?" Rami raised an eyebrow.
"I don't think it's bullying," you corrected gently. "I think they're just… loud. They have a lot of energy."
"They're terrified of you," Rami stated bluntly. "And they're too stupid to realize that pushing you away is going to backfire permanently."
You didn't say anything to Rami's harsh assessment. You just looked back at the two girls. Sohyun was nervously chewing her bottom lip, and Xinyu looked like she was on the verge of a panic attack.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, softening your features.
"I'll see you later, Rami," you said quietly, turning away and heading toward your next class.
The high school years dragged on this way, a continuous, exhausting, emotionally draining dance of harsh words, stolen glances, and a love so deeply buried under paralyzing fear that it threatened to suffocate all three of you.
The transition from the rigid, structured hallways of your high school to the sprawling, vibrant campus of the university didn't break the intense gravitational pull between the three of you. If anything, the expansive grounds of the Faculty of Business and Economics only provided Sohyun and Xinyu with a much larger stage to act out their agonizing, complicated dynamic.
You had enrolled as a Business Networking major, your academic life consumed by the intricate complexities of Operations Management, supply chains, and your overarching thesis on Green and Reverse Logistics. You were, as you had always been, at the very top of your cohort. Your mind was a brilliant, analytical engine, constantly reading systems, predicting outcomes, and understanding human operational behavior.
Because of this, you were anything but oblivious.
You knew exactly how Sohyun and Xinyu felt about you. You had known for years. You didn't need a dramatic confession under a cherry blossom tree to understand the truth; you saw it in the data of their everyday actions.
You noticed how Sohyun would aggressively critique the formatting of your proposals for the Dewan Perwakilan Mahasiswa (DPM), only to secretly email you a flawlessly edited version at two in the morning so you wouldn't stress over it. You noticed how Xinyu ruthlessly maneuvered her way into "Kelompok 4" for your massive MIS project, aggressively managing the schedules to ensure absolutely no other girls in the group had the opportunity to sit next to you during late-night study sessions.
Their fear of rejection was incredibly loud, masked by layers of biting sarcasm and confrontational glares. But their profound, overwhelming care for you was even louder, provided you knew how to listen for it. You were simply waiting. You were a patient man, willing to let them fight their internal battles until they were finally brave enough to drop the armor.
However, that delicate, frustrating stalemate was entirely shattered on a sweltering Thursday afternoon.
You were sitting at a shaded outdoor table near the faculty lounge, trying to escape the midday Surabaya heat. You had a stack of journals on sustainable supply chain models spread out before you, deeply engrossed in your research.
Suddenly, your focus was broken by a pair of cool, familiar hands slipping over your eyes from behind.
"Guess who, genius?" a playful, melodic voice chirped right next to your ear.
You couldn't help but smile, reaching up to gently pry the hands away. "You're supposed to be in Jakarta, Rami."
Rami let out a bright, ringing laugh, stepping around the table and immediately dropping into the empty chair right beside you. She was your childhood friend, practically a second sister, and she operated with a complete disregard for personal space when it came to you. She slung an arm casually around your shoulders, leaning her head against yours as she peered down at your dense academic papers.
"My classes got canceled for the rest of the week, so I took the first train down to bother you and Yooyeon," Rami said, reaching over to blatantly steal a sip from your iced coffee without asking. "God, I missed you. Have you been doing nothing but reading about recycled cardboard since I left?"
"It's reverse logistics, Rami, and it's important," you chuckled, gently nudging her shoulder. "It's good to see you."
Rami grinned, leaning in closer, her face mere inches from yours as she animatedly began telling you a story about her chaotic train ride. To any outside observer, the sheer physical comfort and easy intimacy between the two of you painted a very specific, very romantic picture.
And unfortunately for Sohyun and Xinyu, they were currently acting as outside observers.
About fifty feet away, partially concealed behind one of the large concrete pillars of the faculty building, the two reigning queens of the university's social ecosystem were currently experiencing a catastrophic, system-wide mental breakdown.
Sohyun’s heart was hammering so violently against her ribs that she felt physically nauseous. Her manicured nails were digging painfully into the rough concrete of the pillar as she stared at the scene unfolding at your table.
Who is she? Sohyun's internal monologue was shrieking in pure, unadulterated panic. Why is she sitting so close to him? Why is she touching his shoulder? He never lets anyone touch his shoulder! Why is he smiling at her like that? He never smiles like that when I'm around. I usually just get the polite nod. Oh my god, she's gorgeous. Is she his girlfriend? Did he get a girlfriend?
Beside her, Xinyu was vibrating with a terrifying mix of profound jealousy and sheer terror. Her sharp, imposing gaze was fixed entirely on Rami, mentally dissecting this sudden, beautiful threat to her entire world.
I will completely destroy her, Xinyu thought wildly, her breathing shallow and erratic. No, wait, I can't do that, Y/N would hate me. But look at them! She just drank from his cup! Indirect kiss! They just shared an indirect kiss right in the middle of the campus courtyard! This is a disaster. This is an absolute, code-red emergency.
"Sohyun," Xinyu hissed, her voice trembling as she grabbed her friend's arm in a vice grip. "We have to do something. Right now. We have to go over there."
"And do what?!" Sohyun hissed back, her eyes wide with panic. "What if they're dating, Xinyu? What if we walk over there and he introduces her as the love of his life? I will literally throw myself into the campus fountain and drown."
"If we don't go over there, she's going to steal him completely!" Xinyu argued desperately, logic completely abandoning her. "We can't just stand here and let some random girl take the only guy we've ever cared about because we're too cowardly to act. We have to intervene. We'll march over there, assert dominance, and… and demand his attention for a DPM project!"
"I'm not even in the DPM!" Sohyun pointed out frantically.
"It doesn't matter! Just follow my lead!"
Fueled by a volatile cocktail of pure adrenaline, territorial jealousy, and the terrifying realization that they might actually lose you, the two girls stepped out from behind the pillar. They marched across the courtyard toward your table, their heels clicking aggressively against the pavement, looking like they were preparing for a war.
But as the physical distance between you closed, the adrenaline rapidly began to evaporate, entirely replaced by their deeply ingrained, paralyzing fear of your judgment.
By the time they reached your table, they had completely run out of steam.
You looked up from Rami's animated story, your calm, analytical eyes landing on the two girls standing awkwardly by your table. You raised an eyebrow, waiting.
Sohyun opened her mouth, fully intending to say something witty and sharp to demand your attention. She meant to ask you a complex question about operations management. Instead, her brain entirely blue-screened under the weight of your gaze.
"We…" Sohyun started, her voice cracking embarrassingly. She felt the heat violently rush to her cheeks, turning her entire face a brilliant, glowing shade of crimson. "The… the cardboard. For the… things."
Xinyu internally screamed at her friend's complete failure and stepped forward to take charge. She pointed a finger at your table, but her hand was shaking so badly she quickly dropped it.
"Y/N," Xinyu stated loudly, trying to summon her usual commanding presence, but it came out sounding breathless and panicked. "We need to… we have to discuss the schedule for the… the breathing. I mean, the meeting. The DPM meeting about the… the green leaves. Logistics. Green logistics."
You blinked, leaning back in your chair. "The DPM meeting about green logistics isn't for another three weeks, Xinyu. And Sohyun, you aren't on that committee."
Xinyu's face went from pale to a deep, agonizing red in less than a second. Her sharp mind went completely blank. She had absolutely no idea what to say next. She just stood there, her mouth slightly open, completely flustered, radiating a chaotic, terrified energy. Sohyun looked like she was actively praying for a sinkhole to open up beneath the courtyard and swallow her whole.
Rami, who had stopped her story mid-sentence, was currently staring at Sohyun and Xinyu with an expression of pure, unfiltered bewilderment. She looked from the two blushing, stammering girls, to you, and then back to the girls.
Rami leaned closer to you, not bothering to lower her voice. "Y/N, who are these creeps? Are they stalking you? Because I will happily call campus security right now. They look like they're about to have a synchronized stroke."
Sohyun let out a tiny, mortified squeak, burying her burning face in her hands. Xinyu looked completely paralyzed, her eyes darting frantically between you and Rami, completely unable to defend herself against the accusation.
You let out a soft, warm chuckle, the sound instantly defusing the heavy tension in the air. You reached over, gently patting Rami's arm to calm her down.
"It's okay, Rami. Stand down," you said smoothly. You gestured toward the two petrified girls. "Rami, these are my classmates. Park Sohyun and Zhou Xinyu. They can be a little intense when it comes to academics, but they aren't stalkers."
You shifted your gaze to the two girls, your eyes softening. "Sohyun, Xinyu, this is Rami. She's my childhood friend. She basically grew up in my house alongside my older sister, Yooyeon."
The words childhood friend echoed in Sohyun and Xinyu's minds like a chorus of angels singing.
The profound, crushing weight of their jealousy vanished in an instant, leaving behind only the sheer, embarrassing reality of their current behavior. They weren't losing you to a beautiful stranger; they had just aggressively marched up to your closest family friend and completely made fools of themselves.
"Oh," Xinyu breathed out, the tension leaving her shoulders so fast she almost sagged. "Childhood friend. Right."
"Nice to meet you," Sohyun managed to squeak from behind her hands, still refusing to show her incredibly flushed face.
Rami narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying their sudden, awkward submissiveness, but she leaned back in her chair. "Right. Well. Nice to meet you too, I guess."
You looked at the two girls standing awkwardly in the heat, clearly miserable and entirely unsure of what to do next. They looked like they wanted to bolt, to run away and hide from the immense embarrassment of the situation. But you weren't going to let them run away this time. It was time to break the cycle.
"Actually," you started, closing your textbook and neatly stacking your journals. "Rami and I were just about to head off campus to get some lunch. I know a quiet spot that serves incredible seafood just a few blocks from here. Why don't you two join us?"
Sohyun finally lowered her hands, staring at you in utter disbelief. "You… you want us to come with you?"
"I don't think we can," Xinyu added quickly, her defensive instincts kicking in to protect her from this incredibly vulnerable situation. "We don't want to intrude on your reunion. Plus, I'm sure you have… things to catch up on."
"It's not an intrusion," you replied firmly, offering them a small, encouraging smile. "I'm inviting you. I'd like it if you came. Both of you."
Sohyun and Xinyu exchanged a wide-eyed, panicked glance. You had never explicitly invited them to do anything outside of mandatory group projects. This was unprecedented territory. But the gentle, genuine warmth in your eyes was a magnetic force they simply couldn't resist.
"Okay," Sohyun whispered softly. "We'd like that."
Twenty minutes later, the four of you were seated in a cool, dimly lit restaurant known for its phenomenal grilled fish and spicy sambal. The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the Surabaya heat, but the atmosphere at the table was incredibly thick with awkward tension.
You and Rami sat on one side of the booth, while Sohyun and Xinyu sat stiffly on the opposite side, keeping a perfectly measured six inches of space between them. They both looked like they were bracing for an execution rather than waiting for an appetizer.
Rami was thoroughly enjoying the situation. She methodically peeled a shrimp, chewing it slowly as she locked her sharp gaze on the two girls across from her.
"So," Rami started, wiping her fingers on a napkin. "Let me get this straight. You two saw Y/N sitting with a girl you didn't recognize, and your immediate instinct was to sprint across the courtyard, completely red in the face, to aggressively demand to talk about… cardboard?"
Sohyun closed her eyes, letting out a pained sigh. "Please, just let me die in peace."
Xinyu crossed her arms, her defensive walls instinctively snapping back into place. "We had a legitimate academic inquiry. Y/N is a vital part of our group projects. His focus is important."
"Right. Very convincing," Rami scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You know, for two people who supposedly just care about his grades, you both looked like you were ready to commit murder when you saw me touching his arm. It's honestly hilarious."
"Rami," you warned gently, placing a hand over hers on the table. "That's enough. Be nice."
Rami sighed, leaning back against the booth. "I'm just saying, Y/N. They act like absolute terrors. I've heard the stories from Yooyeon. They steal your stuff, they insult your clothes, they completely monopolize your time… and then they stand in a courtyard looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars. It's exhausting just watching it."
The table plunged into a heavy, suffocating silence.
Sohyun stared down at her untouched glass of iced tea, the condensation pooling at the base. Xinyu's jaw was clenched so tight a muscle ticked in her cheek. Rami had just taken a sledgehammer to the very fragile glass house they had been hiding in for years.
You looked at them, seeing the very real, very raw distress in their eyes. They were cornered.
"Rami is very blunt," you said softly, breaking the silence. You kept your voice low, steady, and entirely free of judgment. "She doesn't mean to be cruel. But… she isn't entirely wrong."
Sohyun and Xinyu both snapped their heads up to look at you, panic flaring in their eyes.
"I know I haven't said anything about it," you continued, leaning forward slightly, resting your forearms on the table. "But I'm not blind to the way things have been between us. The teasing, the arguments, the hostility. It's been going on since high school."
"Y/N, we—" Xinyu started, her voice panicked, but you gently raised a hand to pause her.
"I've always known it wasn't because you actually hated me," you said, your eyes moving between them, making sure they understood the absolute sincerity in your words. "I've always known there was a different reason behind it. I just… I didn't want to push you until you were ready."
Sohyun’s lower lip trembled. She reached down, her fingers nervously twisting the fabric of her skirt under the table. The fear of rejection was screaming at her to stand up, to make a sarcastic comment, and walk out of the restaurant.
But then she looked at you. She looked at the immense patience in your eyes, the quiet strength that had drawn her to you in the first place. You weren't attacking them. You were offering them a bridge.
Sohyun took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself to maintain eye contact with you.
"I'm sorry," Sohyun whispered, her voice cracking under the emotional weight of the words. "I am so, incredibly sorry, Y/N."
You tilted your head slightly. "For what, Sohyun?"
"For being so awful to you," she confessed, a single tear escaping and sliding down her cheek. She didn't bother to wipe it away. "For stealing your things. For saying cruel things about your studying. I was just… I was so intimidated by you. You were always so perfect, so brilliant, and I felt so small compared to you. I didn't know how to talk to you like a normal person. I was terrified that if I was just nice to you, you would see right through me and realize I wasn't good enough. So I acted like a monster to protect myself. And it was stupid. And it was mean. And I'm sorry."
The absolute vulnerability in Sohyun's confession hung in the air, raw and undeniable.
Xinyu swallowed hard, her throat thick with emotion. Seeing her friend break down her walls gave her the final push she needed to shatter her own.
"She's right," Xinyu said, her voice unusually soft, stripped entirely of its commanding edge. She looked at you, her sharp eyes swimming with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, too. For everything. For bumping into you in the halls, for insulting your clothes, for being so impossibly demanding during our projects. I used my anger because I was too cowardly to use anything else."
Xinyu reached out, tentatively resting her hand on the edge of the table, just inches from yours. "I didn't hate you, Y/N. I have never hated you. I just… I didn't know how to handle the fact that I cared so much about what you thought of me. And seeing you with Rami today… seeing how easy it was for her to just sit next to you and make you smile… it made me realize how much time I've wasted being angry instead of just being honest."
You looked at the two women sitting across from you. The masks were gone. The hostility had completely evaporated. They were terrified, yes, but they were finally, beautifully honest.
You reached across the table, your large hand covering Xinyu's trembling fingers, while your other hand reached out to gently grasp Sohyun's hand where it rested near her glass.
They both gasped softly at the physical contact, their eyes snapping to yours.
"Thank you," you said, your voice a warm, comforting rumble that sent a wave of profound relief crashing over them both. "It takes a lot of courage to say that. I accept your apologies. Both of them."
Sohyun let out a wet, breathless laugh, squeezing your fingers tightly. "You're not mad? You're not going to tell us to leave?"
"I invited you to lunch, didn't I?" you smiled, your thumbs gently rubbing against their knuckles. "I don't hold grudges. I just wanted us to finally be able to sit at a table together without someone threatening to confiscate my highlighters or rewrite my flowcharts."
Xinyu let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, wiping at her eyes with her free hand. "I can't promise I won't still critique your flowcharts. They really can be quite messy."
"I'll take the constructive criticism over the yelling any day," you replied smoothly.
Rami, who had been sitting quietly watching the entire exchange, finally let out a loud, dramatic sigh, picking up her chopsticks again.
"Well, thank God that's over," Rami muttered, though there was a distinct, approving smile playing on her lips. "I thought I was going to have to physically shake the truth out of you two. Now that we've established that you aren't actually rabid stalkers and just emotionally stunted idiots, can we please eat? I'm starving."
The heavy, suffocating tension that had defined your relationship for years finally broke, shattering into a million pieces.
Sohyun and Xinyu didn't immediately confess their undying, romantic love. The fear of that final, ultimate rejection was still a small, lingering shadow in the back of their minds. But the massive, impenetrable wall of hostility was entirely gone.
As the waiter brought out the plates of fragrant, steaming food, the atmosphere at the table shifted into something completely new.
For the first time in your lives, you sat together not as a target and his tormentors, but as friends. Sohyun cautiously asked Rami about her life in Jakarta, genuinely engaging in the conversation without a hint of sarcasm. Xinyu, while still maintaining her confident posture, asked you a genuine question about your thesis, actively listening to your response without preparing an insult to tear it down.
You sat there, surrounded by the lively chatter, feeling a profound sense of peace settle over you.
It was just a meal. It was just an apology. But as you caught Xinyu's eye across the table, watching her offer you a small, completely genuine smile, and felt Sohyun 'accidentally' brush her knee against yours under the table without pulling away in panic, you knew everything had changed.
This wasn't the end of the story, nor was it the grand, romantic finale. But it was the very first, incredibly solid step toward the future you had been patiently waiting for them to finally build with you.
AN: Been up for almost a month on FP, finally cross-posting this one. I'll be honest, everything is 100x easier over there, so sorry if things are delayed on Tumblr.
“What exactly are you doing up on the counter like that?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“And why exactly are you wearing shoes on there? You do realise we cook in this kitchen?”
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."
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Tags: body worshipping, massage, some fluff (?), cunnilingus, creampie, light femdom.
Word count: 5.7k
A/N: Very aware that I am posting Irene's birthday fic three months after her birthday, but better late than never. I am just so fucking glad that someone like Irene exists in the same timeline as me, and this fic is my love letter to her existence. Love you, Bae Juhyun.
The savoury aroma of the seaweed soup drifted to Irene’s nostrils just as she entered our apartment in Seoul, coming back from her birthday event and the listening party with lucky ReVeLuvs. I actively had to keep my focus on adding the final touches to the soup, because I knew seeing Irene looking like a princess would make me want to stop whatever I was doing (in this case, cooking her birthday seaweed soup) and pull her up in my arms immediately. I added the last seasoning, black pepper, as I could hear Irene’s light footsteps coming near, the scent of her perfume much stronger than the light, umami scent of the soup itself.
“I called your mother for the recipe, Juhyun-ah. Come here, tast-” The last word stopped at my throat as I looked up and saw Irene for the first time today. Irene looked ethereal in her white dress; the hem showcasing her toned, pale thighs, the neckline plunging just enough to make her cleavage visible, and her perfect little face, glowing with happiness as she looked at me. She laughed, and closed my agape mouth with her hand, cupping my jaw - my sense of awe at looking at Irene after all these years still making her laugh in amusement and a bit of adoration.
“I guess you didn’t see any of the photos from the press release today, huh?” Irene chimed, as she cheerfully looked at the pot cooking on the stove, inhaling the aroma. “It does smell like my mother’s recipe. Feed me.” I put a small ladleful of seaweed soup into a soup bowl, and brought a spoonful of it to my mouth, blowing on it to cool it down. Her eyes were fixed on my lips as her own curved into a smile, and she opened her perfect lips wide as I fed her the soup.
Irene’s eyes closed as she seemed to savor or evaluate the soup, making me wait with bated breath. “Well? How is it, Juhyun-ah?” I asked, already worried I might have messed up somehow. Instead of saying anything, Irene leaned forward, standing on her tiptoes, and kissed my lips softly. As she pulled back from the kiss, making me feel dizzy already with just a kiss, her eyes sparkled with love. “Perfect. The soup is perfect, baby.” I beamed with pride, the way only Irene could make me feel, and fed her another spoonful from the already cooling bowl.
“Baby, you don’t have to feed me the entire thing yourself.”
“I know I don’t have to. I just like feeding you, it is your birthday after all, Juhyun-ah.”
As Irene swallowed another mouthful of soup, she cupped my jaw again. “Let’s eat together, that will make me feel better. Let me go ahead and change.” With a soft, lingering squeeze on my jaw, she left for our bedroom; letting me have one last, longing look at her perfect birthday outfit, with the familiar sway in her hips that has never failed to make me salivate.
By the time Irene came back, she had changed into her matching pajamas, her hair and makeup intact, contrasting her regal beauty with a sort of domesticity that I could never get enough of. I already had made some rolled omelettes and was done setting up the table with the soup, rice, sauteed vegetables and the omelettes, as she sat opposite to me like she always did (except the times she wanted to have messy sex on the table and sat on my lap).
“This looks like a feast already.” Irene looked at the table, appreciating my efforts. “It is really simple though, Juhyun-ah. I didn’t want to cook too many items since I know you have your comeback tomorrow and a busy few months afterwards. Besides, we have your birthday dinner scheduled tonight and wanted you to have some space for tonight.” As I put the rolled omelettes onto her bowl of rice, Irene smiled at me, almost making me skip my heartbeat through the love and sincerity that was pouring out. “I still love the simple food you prepared more than the fancy dinner, because you made it all for me. And because dinner is not anytime soon.” she added teasingly.
I loved how Irene always balanced not being too overly sappy, be that for anything she did or I did. She felt mature beyond her age all the time that I knew her, but her mid-thirties was bringing out the peak version of Irene, both in terms of beauty, artistry and maturity. “I loved all the songs in Biggest Fan though, Juhyun-ah. You did an amazing job.” Irene smirked again with a mouthful of rice, not wanting to stop teasing me. “You say that for everything I do, baby. It’s like you’re so blind in love that you can’t evaluate anything objectively anymore.”
“You are right, I can’t. But don’t you love how much of a simp I am for you to be like this?” This made Irene smile again, just as I was hoping it would. I wanted her to have a happy and comfortable day today, before the whirlwind that is album release, music show promotions, fansigns, and preparing for her solo concert tour. “I am so proud of you, Irene. I genuinely mean that. You are so, so amazing for working the way you do. My appreciation for you as an idol never wavered, and I wanted you to know that it is at its peak right about now.” Irene laughed in embarrassment this time, and tried to deflect my compliments.
“What has gotten into you, baby? You are usually not this cheesy.”
“It’s not everyday that my most favorite person in the world has her birthday. But I will stop now. I don’t want you to feel nauseated as you eat the food I cooked for you, it will make me question both my cooking and my ability to make you swoon with words.”
“You never really made me swoon with your words though. It had more to do with how dumb you get around me, even after all these years of being together.” Irene paused, as if she wanted to decide whether to escalate the conversation into something naughty. “You do make me swoon with your hands though. And your mouth. And your cock.” Her eyes did not move from mine as she said this in a matter of fact way.
It was my turn to feel embarrassed this time, as I felt a flush of warmth flooding my face and making me blush heavily. Just as I could never get used to the unreal beauty of Irene, I also never could get used to how sure and confident she was when it came to sex. She knew what she liked, what she wanted, and she had an almost ravenous hunger for me, which made me the luckiest guy in the world, bar none.
“Thank God I planned to make you swoon with my hands then, Juhyun-ah. Right after we finish eating.” Irene raised one eyebrow at me. “Oh, what do you have planned?” I looked at the bedroom, then at her. “Did you already not see the massage mat and the massage oil I had prepared in the bedroom when you changed?” Irene laughed out loud, just as she did when she got caught lying in the games we played together, or she played with her members. “I did see the massage mat, baby. I just wanted to hear you say that you wanted to make me swoon with your hands as you blushed. That was funny.”
The savoury aroma of the seaweed soup still lingered faintly in the air as we finished the last bites of our simple meal, the occasional, intentional brush of fingers constant throughout. “You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she said again, but her voice was warm, the teasing from earlier softened by genuine gratitude. “The soup alone would have been enough. And the fact that you called my mom…”
“I wanted to,” I replied simply, almost distracted with how the afternoon light caught on her still-styled hair. “I wanted today to feel relaxing for you before you drown in schedules again.” Irene smiled at that, reaching across to squeeze my hand. No grand declarations were needed; we had been together long enough to show our intentions without having to speak it out loud.
When the last dish was rinsed and set aside, I stood and extended my hand. Irene took it without question, but instead of just pulling her up from her chair, I scooped her into my arms. Irene let out a surprised, delighted laugh, arms looping around my neck, legs dangling as I carried her bridal-style through the apartment toward our bedroom; my attempt at being romantic made successful by how giddy she looked.
The bedroom had been ready since noon. The massage mat was laid out across the center of our bed, fresh towels folded neatly at the foot, the bottle of warming massage oil on the nightstand beside a glass of water. The full windows of our bedroom were open, the soft afternoon light giving everything inside a warm glow. I laid her down gently on the mat, her body sinking into it with a contented sigh. For a moment I just looked at her; my Irene, still glowing from celebrating her birthday with luvies, her full makeup flawless, styled hair falling in soft waves, looking like heaven materialized into my cute little girlfriend.
I knelt beside the bed, hands resting lightly on her legs over the soft fabric of her pajamas. “Do you want a massage with a towel over you or without a towel?” Irene’s eyes met mine, dark and knowing, lips curving with that mix of amusement and heat she reserved just for me. “You already know the answer to that.” I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her knee through the pajama leg. “Hey, I never assume consent unless it is given, ideally enthusiastically.”
Irene reached down, cupping my jaw the way she had in the kitchen when I first let her taste the soup, her thumb stroking my cheek. “Without the towel, baby. I want your hands on me. All of me. Enthusiastically given.” My heart swelled with love just as my cock twitched with anticipation for what’s to come. “Thank you, Juhyun-ah. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she murmured as she turned around. “Now make me feel good.”
I straddled Irene’s thighs carefully, my legs spread around her body, settling so my already-hardening cock nestled close to the curve of her ass through the layers of fabric. Starting at her neck and shoulders, I kept the pressure light at first with long and gliding strokes over the soft pajama top, thumbs circling the base of her skull where tension always gathered after she had a schedule. Her skin beneath the cloth was warm, alive and so, so soft.
Irene let out a low, throaty moan almost immediately, her head turning slightly to the side, body already beginning to melt as she relaxed. I increased the pressure as I knew she preferred, kneading deeper into the tight muscles along her shoulders and upper back. Her petite frame yielded beautifully under my hands.
I could feel every knot releasing under my fingers, her breathing deepening into soft sighs and appreciative sounds that went straight to my groin. My cock thickened further, pressing insistently against her, but I ignored my boner, focused fully on making sure she felt good. Leaning forward, I brushed a kiss to the nape of her neck where her hair had parted. The skin there was especially sensitive; she shivered, goosebumps rising visibly.
My hands traveled lower, tracing the elegant curve of her spine through the top, thumbs pressing along either side. Irene’s back was long and graceful, the muscles toned and firm, yet supple. I worked my hands just as I had learned, feeling her arch subtly into my touch. When I reached the dimples of Venus (pretty sure Irene is prettier than Venus ever was, but oh well), those two perfect little indentations framing the top of her ass at the base of her spine, I circled my thumbs there in slow, firm presses. Irene moaned louder, hips shifting beneath me.
I moved to her asscheeks next, cupping and kneading the firm, rounded flesh through the pajama pants. Even clothed, I could feel how absolutely delightful Irene’s asscheeks felt in my hands, the muscle giving slightly then firming under my palms as Irene clenched a little. I squeezed rhythmically, thumbs brushing the cleft, and her moans turned breathier, needier. The scent of her arousal was rising now, sweet and musky, cutting through her pajamas and the light oil aroma. A damp spot was forming between her legs; I could smell how wet she was already getting with just my hands on her perfect little ass.
I shifted lower, stroking down the backs of her thighs over the fabric. Her hamstrings were long and toned, elegant; just as her entire body was. I used deeper pressure with my forearms, rolling slowly, and Irene whimpered, toes curling inside her socks as my hands travelled down to her calves, and then her feet. I removed the socks gently, cradling each delicate foot. The skin of her feet felt smooth and warm against my hands. As I pressed my thumbs into the soles, working out tension, she let out a soft, half-laughing moan. “Baby… that tickles but it feels so good.” I smiled against her ankle and kissed the delicate bone there in reply.
By now Irene’s arousal was obvious. The damp patch on her pants had grown, and all my nose could focus on was the musky scent of her wet pussy. My cock was fully hard, throbbing steadily, pre-cum soaking into my trousers (thank God I wore a loose one today), but the focus remained entirely on her. Every sigh, every shift of her body under my hands, every soft sound she made felt like my reward for worshiping her body.
I sat back on my heels. “Juhyun-ah, can I take your pajamas off?” Irene turned her head to look at me over her shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded and dark with arousal, cheeks flushed even under her full makeup. “Yes. Please. Take them off.”
I helped Irene rise just enough to peel the top over her head, revealing her back inch by glorious inch. Her skin was porcelain-pale, flawless, glowing in the warm afternoon light, taking my breath away yet again. The elegant line of her spine, the subtle play of muscle along her sides, the way her shoulder blades shifted as she settled again; all were unparalleled. I couldn’t resist pressing a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses down her spine, from the nape of her neck all the way to the dimples above her ass. Irene shivered, a pleased hum vibrating through her.
Then the pants. I hooked my fingers in the waistband and slid them down slowly, savoring every revealed centimeter, like I was seeing her naked for the first time. Her ass was firm and round; pale cheeks that wished to be touched, kissed, worshipped. The skin was smooth, already faintly flushed. I kissed each asscheek as if I were worshipping, then the dimples, my hands cupping and squeezing the bare flesh all the while, flushing her skin further.
Irene pushed back into my touch with a soft sound, and I obliged, kneading deeply, spreading her cheeks just enough to glimpse the tight pink pucker of her asshole and the glistening, puffy lips of her pussy below. She was already soaked, folds slick and parted slightly as a bead of wetness trailed down her inner thigh.
I reached for the massage oil, pouring a generous amount into my palms and warming it until it was slick and pleasantly warm. I started from her feet, relishing the way I was building her arousal, to tease her, please her all over as I worked the oil into her skin with long, gliding strokes. Her calves gleamed, every toned contour highlighted. Up to her thighs I took my time, massaging the firm quads and hamstrings, thumbs pressing deep into the sensitive inner thighs from behind. Irene moaned continuously now, low and throaty, legs parting wider of their own accord. My oiled fingers brushed higher with every pass, skimming the outer lips of her pussy, feeling the hot, wet heat radiating from her. She gasped, hips lifting involuntarily. “Tease…” she breathed, but it was pure need, no complaint.
I kneaded Irene’s asscheeks hard, the oil making everything gloriously slippery. My fingers dipped into the cleft, circling deliberately around her asshole as I teased the sensitive ring without pressing inside, just enough pressure to make her squirm and moan louder. The pale skin flushed deeper there; I could see her pussy clenching visibly, more wetness seeping out. The scent of her arousal was rich and intoxicating now, but I made sure to focus on pleasing the birthday girl, Irene.
To keep my own composure, I decided to move up her body and spread more oil across her lower back, thumbs working the dimples of Venus deeply before gliding up the long plane of her back. Broad strokes along the muscles flanking her spine as my fingers splayed wide. When I reached her sides, my hands brushed the soft, warm swells of the sides of her breasts squeezed against the massage mat. Irene arched into the touch with a soft cry, as my hands deftly touched the soft and yielding flesh of her tits.
I massaged her upper back and shoulders again as my oil-slick hands glided effortlessly. Irene’s perfect skin became luminous as I massaged the oil into her pores, every elegant curve and plane glowing under the warm sunlight. I kissed her oiled shoulder blades and licked a droplet from the nape of her neck, tasting the faint sweetness of the oil mixed with her clean skin.
By the time I finished her back, Irene was relaxed yet desperately aroused, her body loose and pliant but vibrating with need, soft continuous moans and whimpers filling my ears like the most beautiful sound in the world. I leaned down, lips brushing her ear. “Juhyun-ah, do you want me to massage your front too?” She turned her head, voice husky and thick. “Yes. Please. Touch all of me.”
I helped Irene turn over slowly, reverently, as if she needed all I had to give her. And there she was, fully naked now, back gleaming with oil, front exposed in the warm light. My breath caught the way it always did, even after all these years. Irene’s body was perfect; delicate yet powerfully toned. Her small, perky breasts with tight pink nipples were already pebbled from the attention it did not receive yet, asking me to touch and feel it. Between her legs, her pussy was flushed and glistening as her outer lips were plump and parted already, her inner folds pink and slick with arousal, clit swollen and visible and ready for my touch. A neat, trimmed patch of dark hair above, just the way I liked it. Irene’s face was flushed and her lips parted, as her eyes locked on mine with love and raw hunger, long dark hair fanned out like a black halo.
“After all these years of being with you, Juhyun-ah, I still can’t believe you are real,” I said without thinking. I could not. “I could worship every inch of you for the rest of my life and never get enough.”
I poured more oil into my hands and warmed it. Starting from Irene’s feet again, I massaged each toe, then the delicate arches and ankles. She sighed as I moved up her shins and knees, then spent long minutes on her toned quads, thumbs digging deep into the firm muscle. I took extra time on her inner thighs, intentionally so as I rubbed slow, firm circles higher and higher. Her legs fell open wider, inviting. I could see her pussy lips parting more with each pass, more clear slickness welling up and trailing down.
My fingers brushed her outer lips deliberately, spreading oil and her own wetness. Irene moaned, hips bucking softly. I rubbed just above her clit in slow circles as I pressed the mound, then let my thumbs gently part her folds, massaging the sensitive flesh around her entrance without pushing inside yet. Her clit throbbed visibly, asking for more.
Irene was squirming in earnest now, toes curling hard, one hand fisting the mat, the other reaching blindly for me. “So wet already,” I murmured. “So fucking perfect.” I massaged deeper into her inner thighs, fingers grazing her wet pussy lips with every stroke, sometimes letting a fingertip dip just inside the inviting heat of her entrance. She clenched around even that small touch as she whimpered. Then I moved my hands upward, soft circling strokes across her stomach as I felt her abs get firm under my palms. My hands rubbed massage oil on her ribs, and finally moved to her breasts.
I cupped them fully, the oil letting my hands glide over the soft and warm and perky flesh. Irene’s tits fit perfectly in my palms as if they were made for my hands. I kneaded with varying pressure, my thumbs finally circling and flicking her taut nipples. Irene arched off the mat with a sharp, beautiful cry, legs crossing and uncrossing, toes pointed. “Ahh, yes, baby, just like that…”
I took my time, rolling Irene’s nipples between fingers slick with oil as I pinched lightly then soothed with broad strokes, watching her face twist in pleasure, the pale skin of her chest flushing deeper pink. The oil made everything shine; I leaned down and kissed between her breasts, then each nipple in turn, sucking one lightly into my mouth, tasting oil and warm skin. Irene moaned my name brokenly.
After teasing and sucking on Irene’s nipples and feeding her arousal further, I moved on to massage her arms with oil as I worked from shoulders to wrists; interlacing our fingers, our eyes locking for just a moment. Then my hands were back to her chest, moving lower. My right hand returned between her legs while my left stayed on her breast, pinching and rolling a nipple. I circled her swollen clit with two fingers, firm and steady, building the rhythm. My left hand left her nipple as I slid two fingers into her tight and hot and dripping pussy. The wet, squelching sounds were obscene and perfect as I started thrusting, fingers curling to rub her front wall. Irene clenched around my fingers immediately, inner muscles rippling and gripping.
“Oh fuck—baby, yes…” Her voice was strained with pleasure, gorgeous. I fucked Irene with my fingers in earnest, pace increasing, rubbing her clit in tight circles at the same time. Her hips rolled to meet every thrust. Irene’s thighs were shaking, breasts heaving, and nipples rock-hard under my palm as I alternated between rubbing her clit and massaging her nipples. The oil on her skin made everything slippery; her body slid slightly on the mat with each movement of my hand. I watched in pure awe as her orgasm built; eyes squeezing shut, mouth open, body taut like a bow to be released.
Irene came hard on my hand. Her pussy clamped down rhythmically on my fingers, spasming and milking them as a warm gush of wetness flooded my hand and the mat. Her whole body convulsed, back arching sharply, legs locking out straight, a broken cry of my name tearing from her throat. It was one of the most beautiful sights in the world for me; as Irene, my Irene was lost in pleasure I’d given her, trusting me with every part of herself.
I slowed thrusting my fingers inside her but did not stop fully as I drew every aftershock out until Irene went limp and panting. I withdrew my fingers slowly and brought them to my mouth, licking them clean of her sweet, tangy taste. She watched through heavy lids, a lazy, satisfied smile curving her lips. I was nowhere near done with pleasing her though.
I moved to sit behind Irene against the headboard of the bed, my legs stretched wide as I pulled her back against my chest. Her oiled skin slid deliciously against me. My hard cock pressed against her lower back through my trousers. One arm wrapped around to play with her tits again as I kneaded, pinched and rolled her sensitive nipples while my other hand delved back between her spread thighs. Irene was even wetter now, puffy and oversensitive. I rubbed her clit with firm strokes first, immediately sliding two fingers back inside her, pumping steadily, curling just the way Irene liked.
I kissed her neck, her cheek, nuzzled behind her ear. “You look so beautiful when you cum, Juhyun-ah. So perfect. I love watching you cum for me.” Irene turned her head enough for a messy kiss, tongues sliding together. Her hand reached back to grip my hair. I made her cum again; my fingers relentlessly on her g-spot, clit rubbed exactly how she needed, my mouth marking her neck, my hand rubbing her breasts and pinching her nipples all the while. Her second orgasm rolled through her quieter but deeper, a full-body shudder as she leaned her back against my body, her pussy clenching and fluttering around my fingers as she whimpered my name over and over, hips grinding down helplessly.
When Irene came down, she twisted against me, pulling me as I leaned against the headboard and pushing me onto my back on the mat with strength disproportionate to her petite figure. Her eyes were gleaming with love and lust. “My turn.”
Irene tugged at my clothes. I helped her strip me off of my shirt and trouser until my cock sprang free, hard and leaking, the head smeared with pre-cum already. She straddled me immediately, gripping my shaft and lining the head up with her dripping entrance. She sank down in one smooth motion as my cock was fully inside her perfect little cunt. The warmth and the tightness and the slick grip of her pussy around my cock was overwhelming, making me groan loudly, my hands flying to her oiled hips as I managed to say, “Fuck, Juhyun-ah… so tight, so wet for me…”
Irene didn’t give me time, she was just that restless and hungry for my cock inside her. She started riding me hard in cowgirl; hips rolling and bouncing and grinding as her firm, round ass slapped against my thighs with wet sounds. The oil on her body transferred to mine as our bodies melted into each other, making our skin glide and slide erotically with every movement. Her breasts bounced, nipples hard and dark. Irene leaned forward as she kept grinding her pussy on my cock, one hand planted on my chest for balance as the other wrapped lightly but possessively around my throat; controlling me, claiming me. I tilted my head back, offering more, and Irene squeezed just enough to make my pulse hammer.
Her hand on my chest found my nipples, rubbing and pinching them as she rode faster, grinding her clit against me again and again and again. Irene leaned down to kiss me messily, then pulled back to slide two fingers into my mouth. I sucked them eagerly as I moaned around her fingers. She smiled that wicked smile that made my knees weak and rode my cock harder, the wet sounds of her pussy gripping my cock filling the room along with our gasps and moans.
The massage oil made everything slippery as her thighs slid on mine with ease, making her ride me faster. Irene’s hands slipped on my oiled chest and throat as she kept rubbing my nipples, our bodies shining and gliding. I thrust up to meet her, syncing my thrusts with the pace Irene set, watching her take her pleasure from me with pure adoration in my eyes. Her inner walls clenched around my cock repeatedly; I could feel her getting close again, but I was closer. The sheer sight of her oiled and flushed, riding me with abandon, hand on my throat, eyes locked on mine with possession and love proved to be a bit too much.
“I’m gonna cum, baby, inside you” I said, voice low and breathy. “Do it. Fill me up. I want all of it.” Irene rode me faster, slamming down, and made me explode inside her with a strong squeeze. My cock spurted loads of cum deep inside her pussy. Pleasure whited out my vision; my hips jerked uncontrollably, thrusting deeper inside Irene as my balls pushed every last bit of cum into her. She kept riding through it as her own moans peaked, the sensation pushing her over to ecstasy yet again. Her pussy clamped rhythmically around me, drawing out my release until I was spent and trembling.
We collapsed together, Irene on top of me, both panting hard, bodies slick with oil, sweat, and our combined release. My softening cock was nestled inside her, not wanting to pull out. She nuzzled my neck, kissing softly, both of us floating in the afterglow, Irene looking exceptionally beautiful under the light of the setting sun on the Seoul skyline. After a long minute she lifted her head, eyes sparkling with mischief, satisfaction, and love. “You made me swoon with your hands and cock this evening, baby. Only your mouth is left.”
I nodded, already shifting, knowing exactly what Irene wanted. She moved up my body, straddling my face as I lay back. Her pussy; swollen, lips parted, my white cum already leaking out in thick creamy trails mixed with her clear, glistening juices, hovered just above me.
I gripped her oiled thighs and pulled her down onto my mouth. My tongue lapped eagerly at the mess, tasting the salty-bitter-sweet combination of my cum and her tangy-sweet essence. It was filthy and sacred and so fucking kinky, reminding me why I loved Irene as much as I did. I moved up a bit and sucked her swollen clit between my lips, flicking it rapidly with my tongue while pushing my fingers inside her again, scooping out my cum with each thrust. I tasted our combined release again as my tongue moved lower from her clit and licked between her open slit. She tasted addictive, just like us, proof that she was mine and I was hers in the most primal way possible.
Irene’s hands tangled in my hair immediately, gripping tight, using the hold to control the angle and pressure. She ground down onto my face, taking her pleasure. “Yes, baby… eat it. Clean your cum out of my pussy with your tongue. Fuck, it feels so good… you love this, don’t you? Tasting how you filled your girlfriend up…”
Irene kept talking as she rode my face, voice husky and commanding, yet threaded with deep affection. “Mmm, deeper.. Yes, just like that. Suck my clit harder. You’re such a good boy for me, baby, making me cum so many times on my birthday. This pussy is yours, but right now you’re mine to use… ahh! Your tongue inside me… scooping out every drop… fuck, I can see it dripping onto your chin…”
I moaned into her, making her grind against my mouth harder. My hands kneaded her firm and perfect ass, spreading her cheeks, one finger circling and softly pressing against her asshole teasingly as I devoured her pussy. Irene rode my face faster, thighs clamping on either side of my head, as the pressure on her asshole was making her hornier. I alternated broad licks from her entrance up to her clit, sucking her swollen nub, and tongue-fucking her clenching hole as her fresh arousal covered my lips and chin.
Between moans and gasps, Irene kept talking to me in her sirenlike voice. “That’s it, baby… make me cum on your face. I want to mark you all over your mouth… you’re so good at this, worshiping my pussy like it’s the best thing in the world… because it is for you, isn’t it? My simp… my love… ah, I’m close!”
Her thighs shook violently around my head, her grip on my hair tightening almost painfully as she used my mouth and came hard. Irene’s pussy flooded my mouth with another gush of wetness mixed with the remnants of my cum. I licked and sucked through every spasm, my finger still circling on her puckered hole, drawing her orgasm out until she was whimpering and oversensitive, gently pushing my head away with trembling hands.
Irene slid down my body and collapsed on top of me again. Her face found mine, and she kissed me deeply, slowly, tasting herself and my cum on my lips and tongue. The kiss was tender now, the intensity softening into pure, glowing affection. She pulled back just enough to whisper against my mouth, her voice soft and full of emotion.
“I love you so much, baby. You made me feel so cherished and desired today. This was the best birthday I could have asked from you, simple, loving, and so fucking hot. Thank you for cooking for me, massaging me, fucking me, and eating me like I’m your whole world. Because you are mine.”
I held Irene close, our oily, sated bodies sliding together as I stroked her hair and the smooth plane of her back. “Happy birthday, Juhyun-ah. You’re my everything. I’ll always be here to make you swoon however you want; hands, cock, mouth… or just by being the luckiest man alive to love you.”
Irene laughed softly, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You HAVE improved, baby. You just made me swoon with your words.”
Note on Interludes: The interlude chapters aren't required to follow the main plot, but they contain some of the most important character exposition in the series, serving as one-shots within the larger universe of Jeju Heat. Some of them are more experimental in tone.
➤ Introduction (read this before starting the story!)
An overture to the world, the wounds, the lore.
➤ Series Index (plot recap)
A catalogue of TL;DR summaries for each published chapter.
ACT I: Before The Heat
Day 1
➤ Chapter 0: PRELUDE – First Light - Yeji
Morning tenderness. Five years of history in stolen touch.
➤ Chapter 0.5: INTERLUDE – Shower Thoughts - Yeji
The body speaks what the mind refuses.
➤ Chapter 1: Morning Devotion - Yeji
The shower. The boundary. The beginning of the end.
ACT II: The Siren And The Dragon
➤ Chapter 1.5: INTERLUDE - Me Know Me Love Me - Yuna
A hot girl morning gone wrong.
➤ Chapter 2-6: The Siren - Yuna
A towel drops. Two bodies fall. A morning unravels.
➤ Chapter 7: Reckless Abandon - Ryujin, Karina
A rave. A reckoning. Beauty as curse.
➤ Chapter 8-9: The Trap - Yuna, Ryujin
Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to pull out
➤ Chapter 9.5: INTERLUDE - Skin and Shadows - Yeji
Six months ago, the yacht party. When they realized everyone could see. Fear dressed as fury.
➤ Chapter 10: The Dragon's Claim - Yuna, Ryujin
Desire as contest. Intimacy as collateral damage.
➤ Chapter 11: Double Trouble - Yuna, Ryujin
Three bodies, one betrayal. The camera never blinks.
ACT III: Heart In Heat
➤ Chapter 11.5: INTERLUDE - A Love-All Courtship - Chaeryeong
Tennis whites in the summer heat. When match play becomes foreplay, and every serve ups the ante.
➤ Chapter 12: The Eye of the Storm - ITZY ensemble
Lunch with lies. Smiles stretched over guilt.
➤ Chapter 13: Golden Hourglass - Yeji
Beach at sunset. Trust whispered. Truth hidden. The last perfect moment.
ACT IV: A Star Is Reborn
➤ Chapter 14: Divine Intervention - Yeji, Karina
A goddess opens her door. R&B and silk and something like salvation.
➤ Chapter 15: Supernova - Yeji, Karina
The goddess melts. The star explodes. The warmth that remains.
➤ Chapter 16: Armageddon - Yeji, Karina
Destruction before rebirth. A world unmade. Bodies as apocalypse.
➤ Chapter 17: Mine - Yeji, Karina
A word whispered like oath. What acceptance looks like when you finally stop running.
ACT V: The Breaking Tide
Day 2
➤ Chapter 17.5: INTERLUDE - The Eye in the Sky - Lia
She filmed it all. The replay was even better.
➤ Chapter 18: Drowning in Air - Yeji
Her tears rolled backward. Her screams silent. What becomes when you betray the person you love most.
➤ Chapter 19: Flickering Flames - ITZY Ensemble
A chilly morning. A warm afternoon. A fiery night.
➤ Chapter 19.5: INTERLUDE - A Blaze of Glory - ITZY, TWICE, STRAY KIDS, JYP Nation ensemble (+ aespa cameo)
Three years ago, when they danced together. A stage ablaze, a ghost of glory. The night the gang burned the brightest.
➤ Chapter 20: Moonlight and Memory - Yeji
Moonlight on water, skin on skin. A space reclaimed, a memory rewritten.
➤ Chapter 21: Nobody Like You - Ryujin, Yuna
Softened in memory; emptied in sorrow; redeemed in water.
➤ Chapter 22: Unseen, Untouchable, Unmade - Yeji, Lia
A sin unseen. A bond untouchable. A love unmade.
ACT VI: Ashes And Embers
Day 3
➤ Chapter 23: Ditto - ITZY/aespa ensemble (+ Yunjin) (New!)
Chaos in laughter, comfort in closeness. A perfect night warmed by love without names.
➤ Chapter 23.5: INTERLUDE - Merry-Go-Round - Giselle, Winter, Ningning (+ Karina cameo)
The world keeps turning, the music keeps playing, the night keeps burning, and joy keeps winning.
➤ Chapter 24: Last Light - ITZY/aespa ensemble (+ Yunjin) (New!)
First light woke with hidden truth; last light set their burdens free.
➤ Chapter 25: Across The Stars - Yeji (New!)
A star rewritten, two hearts fated, three days painting a thousand nights across one unbroken sky.
➤ EPILOGUE: The Way I Am - Yuna, Karina, Yeji (New!)
For all three: want to be me, me, me.
Tags : Pet play, Blowjob, Deepthroat, Face-fucking, Vaginal sex, Anal sex, Creampie, Sex against window, Recording, Praise kink, Dirty talk, Orgasm control, Cum play
Words : 3120
The summons came through her private phone at 9:47 PM — a single message from a number saved under a name no one else would recognize.
My office. Now.
Sohyun's pulse kicked against her ribs in that familiar way, half nerves and half thirst. She was already dressed for it — she'd known, somehow, when she chose the white camisole this morning instead of the thicker blouse. Tight enough to show the shape of her breasts through the fabric, the outline of her nipples visible if the light hit right. The low-waist brown pants sat below her navel, a strip of bare skin showing above the waistband. She'd painted her nails two nights ago, pink-lavender, running a brush along each with care, imagining his hands holding hers to examine them.
She slipped the black cardigan over her shoulders — open, never buttoned — and grabbed her bag. Told her roommate she forgot something in the practice room. The lie came easy now.
The company building was mostly dark on the upper floors. Security knew her face, waved her through. The elevator hummed ascending, and she watched her reflection in the polished brass doors — the flush already rising across her collarbone, the soft wet heat beginning between her thighs.
She knocked on his door. Three light taps.
Come in, pet.
He never said it aloud. It was always in the message that appeared on her phone after she knocked. She pushed the door open.
The office took up the whole corner of the fifteenth floor. City lights bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Seoul spread out below like circuitry. His desk sat at the far end, mahogany, spotless except for a single lamp casting amber light across the surface. Bookshelves lined one wall. A dark gray couch against another.
He sat behind the desk, watching her enter. Dark suit jacket draped over the chair behind him, sleeves of his white shirt rolled to his forearms. The silver glint at his temples caught the lamplight. His eyes moved over her slowly, deliberately, the way a man checks something he owns for damage.
"Lock it," he said.
She turned the deadbolt. The click echoed.
"Come here."
She walked toward the desk, and he watched every step — the sway of her hips, the way her bare stomach tensed with each stride. When she reached the edge of the desk, he held up one hand.
"Stop."
She stopped.
"Look at me."
She raised her eyes. His gaze pinned her where she stood, and she felt it everywhere — between her legs, in the tightening of her nipples against the camisole, in the way her breath shortened without her permission.
"You've been good today?"
"Yes," she breathed.
"Tell me."
"I was good today. I did everything you asked. I thought about you during the video shoot. I thought about coming here."
"Thought about what would happen when you did?"
She nodded, her cheeks burning.
"Use your words."
"Yes. I thought about what you'd do to me."
Something shifted in his face — not softening, but deepening. He reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a strip of black leather. Thin, maybe half an inch wide. A small silver O-ring at the end.
"Come around."
She walked around the desk, her legs unsteady. He turned in his chair to face her, and she stood between his knees, close enough to smell his cologne — sandalwood and something metallic, like clean coins.
He reached up and brushed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His thumb ran across her cheekbone, feather-light. She leaned into his touch.
"You're so beautiful," he said quietly, and the shift in his voice — from command to something softer — made her chest ache. "Every time I see you, it surprises me. That you're real. That you're here."
"I'm here," she whispered. "I'm always here."
His hand slid to the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair at the nape. He tilted her head back gently, studying her face like a painting.
"I know, baby. I know." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, soft, lingering. "You're my good girl. My perfect little pet."
She felt the words in her stomach, warm and liquid.
"Will you wear this for me?"
He held up the leash. The silver buckle caught the lamplight.
"Yes," she said. "Please."
His hands were gentle as he fastened the collar around her neck — a second, thinner strap of black leather fitted to her throat, the O-ring resting just below her Adam's apple. He buckled it at the back, his fingers brushing her nape. Then he clipped the leash to the ring, and the weight of it tugged forward slightly.
"There."
He sat back, holding the leather coiled loosely in his fist. She watched his chest rise and fall with a slow breath. His eyes were dark, reverent.
"Look at you."
She felt the collar against her skin, the leash a line of tension between them. Her pulse beat against the leather.
"On your knees, pet."
She sank slowly, her knees meeting the carpet. The leash went slack as she descended. She looked up at him from the floor, her hands resting on her thighs.
"Good girl." His thumb traced her lower lip, pressing slightly. She parted her mouth, and he slid his thumb inside. She sucked gently, watching his eyes darken. "That's it. You know what to do."
He pulled his thumb free, wet and glistening, and wiped it across her lower lip.
"Undo my pants."
Her fingers found his belt — familiar now, practiced. The leather tongue slid free, the button popped, the zipper descended. She pulled his pants open and his cock sprang up against his stomach, already hard. The sight of it sent a pulse through her cunt. Thick, veined, the head flushed dark, a bead of pre-cum pearled at the slit.
She licked her lips without thinking.
"You want it?"
"Yes. Please. I want to taste you."
"Then show me how hungry you are. Open."
She opened her mouth wide, tongue flat and waiting. He guided the head to her lips and she took him in, slow, savoring the first stretch of her lips around his girth. Her tongue pressed against the underside of his shaft, tracing the ridge of a vein. She heard his breath catch above her.
"Fuck. Yeah. Just like that."
She sank deeper, taking him inch by inch, her throat relaxing to accept him. Her nose reached his pelvis and she held there, her throat full, her eyes watering. She looked up at him — the leash still in his grip, the city lights behind him — and the sight made her cunt clench around nothing.
He let her set the rhythm at first, watching her bob her head along his length. Her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking what her mouth couldn't reach. Saliva ran down her chin, slick and obscene. She sucked harder, hollowing her cheeks, and the sounds — wet, hungry, desperate — filled the office.
"That's my girl," he groaned, his hips beginning to rock. "Look at you. On your knees. Leashed. Taking my cock down your throat like you were made for it."
She moaned around him, the vibration making his grip tighten on the leash.
"You were made for it, weren't you? Made for me."
She pulled off just long enough to gasp, "Yes. Made for you. Only for you," before taking him back, deeper this time, pushing past her gag reflex and feeling her throat stretch around the head of his cock.
His hand moved to her hair, gathering the long black strands in his fist. "Deep breath, pet."
She inhaled through her nose, and he thrust upward, burying himself fully in her throat. She felt his pelvis against her face, his balls against her chin. The pressure was everything — the fullness, the submission, the way her throat pulsed around him. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She didn't wipe them.
He held her there for three heartbeats, four, five. Then he pulled back, letting her breathe, and the air hit her raw throat like a burn.
"Good. So good." He stroked her hair, his voice thick. "Again."
She took him again, and again, each time deeper, her throat loosening, her hunger growing. Saliva soaked the front of her camisole, the white fabric clinging to the swell of her breasts. Her hands moved to her own body — one gripping her thigh, the other pressing between her legs, rubbing herself through the brown pants.
He caught her wrist. "No. That's mine. You don't touch without permission."
She whined, pulling off his cock. "Please. I need—"
"I know what you need. Turn around. Hands on the window."
She pushed to her feet, unsteady, her legs shaking. The leash stayed clipped to her collar as she crossed to the floor-to-ceiling window. Seoul spread below her, thousands of lights, thousands of people with no idea what was happening behind this glass. The thought made her dizzy.
She placed her palms flat against the cool glass. Her reflection stared back — flushed, wrecked, the collar dark against her throat.
Behind her, she heard his belt unbuckle fully, his pants drop. She didn't turn.
"Arch your back."
She pushed her hips out, bending at the waist, pressing her chest toward the glass. Her breasts flattened against the cool surface, her nipples tightening into hard peaks against the camisole. The brown pants were pulled tight across her ass.
He stepped behind her and ran one hand down her spine, over the curve of her ass, gripping the flesh hard. His other hand yanked her pants and underwear down to her mid-thighs, exposing her. The air hit her wet cunt and she shivered.
"Look at you. So wet for me. So ready."
She felt his cock slide between her thighs, not entering, just dragging through her slickness, coating himself. She pushed back against him, trying to take him in, but he held her hips still.
"Ask me."
"Please," she gasped. "Please fuck me. I need you inside me."
"Inside where?"
"My pussy. Please put your cock in my pussy. I need it so bad."
"Good girl."
He lined up and pushed in, one slow, relentless inch at a time. Her cunt stretched around him, gripping, pulling him deeper. She cried out, her forehead pressing against the window. The city spread below, indifferent.
"Fuck, you're tight," he growled, his hands gripping her hips. "Every time. Like you've never been touched."
He bottomed out, his pelvis against her ass, and stayed there. She felt him pulsing inside her, felt the fullness reaching deep into her belly.
"Look at yourself."
She raised her eyes to her reflection — the girl in the window, collared, pants around her thighs, breasts flattened against the glass, a man buried inside her. Her own face, slack with pleasure, eyes half-lidded.
"See what you are," he said, beginning to move. Slow, deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive inch of her walls. "You're my pet. My perfect little whore. You belong to me."
"Yes," she sobbed. "Yes, I'm yours."
He fucked her slow at first, each thrust deliberate, watching himself disappear into her body. Her breasts pressed and dragged against the cold glass, the friction through the camisole making her nipples ache. Her hands slid on the window as she braced against each impact.
Then his pace quickened, his grip tightening on her hips hard enough to bruise. The sounds — his skin slapping against hers, her moans, the wet noise of his cock pumping into her — filled the office.
"Harder," she begged. "Please, harder."
He gave it to her. His thrusts turned punishing, deep and fast, driving her into the glass. Her breath fogged the window in front of her face. Her tits bounced with each impact, pressed flat then released, the camisole soaked with sweat and saliva.
"Whose pussy is this?"
"Yours. All yours."
"Say my name."
"CEO," she gasped. "Sir—"
"No. My name."
She knew it. He'd given it to her in the dark of his bed one night, whispered against her hair. She'd never said it to anyone else.
"Jaeho," she breathed.
His rhythm stuttered. He leaned over her, his chest against her back, his mouth at her ear.
"Again."
"Jaeho. Please. Please don't stop."
He didn't. He drove into her, faster, harder, the head of his cock hitting that deep spot inside her that made her vision blur. Her orgasm coiled tight in her gut, building with each stroke.
"I'm close," she whimpered. "I'm gonna—"
"Not yet. Not until I tell you."
She tried to hold it back, her muscles clenching around him, her whole body trembling. He reached around and pressed his fingers against her clit through the fabric of her panties, still bunched at her thighs.
"You want to come?"
"Yes. Yes, please."
"Then come for me. Come on my cock like a good pet."
He pressed hard on her clit and thrust deep, and she shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her, her cunt clenching and pulsing around him, her scream muffled against the glass. Her legs gave out but he held her up, still fucking her through it, drawing every wave out of her body.
When she came back to herself, she was slumped against the window, barely standing. Her reflection stared back, wrecked and beautiful.
He pulled out slowly, and she felt the absence like a loss.
"Don't move."
She stayed where she was, face against the glass, ass still exposed. She heard the drawer open — the soft click she recognized. The camera.
"Jaeho—"
"Shh. I know. You're so beautiful like this. I want to keep it."
She didn't argue. She never did. She heard the tiny red light come on.
"Show me your ass."
She pushed her hips back, presenting herself. The air was cool on her wet, swollen cunt.
"Spread yourself."
Her hand reached back, fingers finding her own skin, pulling her ass cheek aside. She heard him exhale, slow and reverent.
"Perfect." A soft click. "Now touch yourself. Show me how wet you are."
Her fingers slid through her slickness, gathering it, spreading it. She felt her own heat, the sheen of her arousal.
"Put your fingers in your mouth."
She obeyed, tasting herself on her tongue. Salty and sweet.
"Get on the couch. On your hands and knees."
She crawled across the carpet, the leash trailing behind her. The leather was damp and warm against her neck. She climbed onto the gray couch, positioning herself on her knees, her ass in the air.
He moved behind her, the camera still recording. She heard him spit, heard the wet sound of him working it into her.
"Open for me, pet."
She felt his thumb press against her asshole, circling, pressing gently until the ring of muscle gave way. She gasped, her fingers gripping the couch cushions.
"You want it here?"
"Yes. Please. I want you in my ass."
"Beg."
"Please, Jaeho. Please fuck my ass. I want to feel you there. I want to be so full of you. Please."
He pulled his thumb out and replaced it with the head of his cock, pressing slowly. She felt the stretch — different from her cunt, tighter, more intense. Her breath came in sharp gasps as he pushed past the first resistance.
"Breathe," he said, his voice strained. "Let me in."
She forced herself to relax, to open, and he slid deeper. The sensation was overwhelming — fullness and pressure and a pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out.
"That's it. Taking me so well. All the way, baby."
He seated himself fully inside her, his pelvis flush against her ass. She felt impossibly full, stretched, claimed.
"Look at the camera."
She turned her head, finding the lens. Her eyes were glassy, her makeup smeared, her lips swollen and wet.
"Tell me who you belong to."
"You," she whispered. "I belong to you."
He began to move, slow thrusts that made her whole body rock. The camera captured everything — the way her ass rippled with each impact, the leash swinging against her throat, the wet sound of him sliding in and out of her.
He fucked her ass with increasing urgency, his breathing ragged, his composure cracking. She pushed back into each thrust, taking him as deep as he could go, wanting all of him.
"I'm going to come," he warned. "Where do you want it?"
"Inside. Please. Fill me up."
"You want my cum in your ass?"
"Yes. Please. I want to feel it. I want to be full of you."
He drove into her one last time, buried to the hilt, and she felt his cock pulse inside her as he came. Hot, thick, endless. She felt each spurt, felt her body accepting it, claiming it. She moaned at the sensation — being filled, being marked from the inside.
When he finished, he stayed inside her for a long moment, both of them breathing hard. Then he pulled out slowly, and she felt the emptiness, felt the warmth of his cum beginning to leak out of her. It ran down her inner thigh, a slow trickle.
She collapsed sideways onto the couch, her body giving out completely. Her limbs felt like water. The leash lay coiled on the cushion beside her.
He set the camera down and knelt beside the couch. His hand found her hair, stroking gently, pushing the strands back from her face.
"You did so well, baby. So perfect."
She couldn't answer. Her body was still trembling, small aftershocks rolling through her muscles. She felt the cum seeping out of her, pooling on the cushion beneath her. The sensation was obscene and perfect.
He lifted her legs onto the couch and covered her with his suit jacket, the expensive fabric draping over her nakedness. He sat on the floor beside her, his back against the couch, his hand never leaving her hair.
"I love you," he said quietly. "You know that, right?"
She turned her head, her cheek against the cushion, looking at him through half-closed eyes. The city lights painted his face in gold and shadow.
"I love you too," she whispered. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For wanting me. All of me. Even this part."
He leaned down and kissed her forehead, her temple, the corner of her mouth.
"This part is my favorite part. Because this part is only mine."
She smiled, small and dreamy, her body still humming with spent pleasure. The cum continued to leak out of her, warm against her skin. The camera's red light glowed silently from the desk, capturing her in the aftermath — limp, full, utterly owned.
The elevator doors slide shut and Kyujin lets out the breath she's been holding all day.
Nine hours of filming. Smiling until her cheeks ached. Answering questions about her "ideal type" with that practiced demure giggle. The stylist's hands in her hair, the heat of the lights, the constant press of being watched.
Here, in the carpeted silence of the fifteenth floor hallway, none of it exists.
She walks to the door at the end — the one with no security code she needs to remember, the one her body knows by feel. Her fingers find the familiar cool metal of the spare key hidden beneath the fake plant. Her hand trembles as she fits it into the lock.
Inside, the apartment smells like him. Leather and cedar and something darker underneath. She locks the door behind her and stands in the entryway, heart already hammering.
He's waiting on the sofa. Dark shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Legs apart, elbows on his knees, a length of black leather coiled in his hands. He doesn't stand when she enters. Doesn't smile. Just watches her the way he always does — like she's something he owns, something he's about to take apart.
"Manners," he says.
Kyujin drops to her knees.
The carpet is rough against her bare shins. She lowers her head, hair spilling forward, and waits. This is how every session starts. The ritual of it quiets the noise in her head, the chatter of the day, the mask she's been wearing. Here she doesn't have to perform. Here she just has to obey.
"Crawl to me."
She moves. Palms flat on the carpet, knees sliding forward one at a time. The skirt of her dress hikes up her thighs. She doesn't fix it. Doesn't ask permission. She just crawls until she reaches his feet and stops, head still bowed.
His hand lands on the back of her head. Fingers threading into her hair, gripping tight, pulling her face up.
"Good girl."
The praise hits her like a current. She feels it in her chest, her stomach, the damp heat already gathering between her thighs. She wants to say thank you but knows better. She doesn't speak until given permission.
He releases her hair and stands. Walks to a drawer by the window and pulls out the collar.
Black leather, two inches wide, lined with soft suede. A silver ring at the front. She's seen it a hundred times and it still makes her throat tighten. He brings it back and crouches in front of her.
"Present."
She lifts her chin. Tilts her head back. Bares her throat.
The leather wraps around her neck, snug and warm. The buckle clicks shut. He adjusts it — not tight enough to choke, tight enough that she can feel it with every swallow. His fingers linger at the clasp, thumb brushing her pulse point.
"Strip the bed," he says. "Then wait on your knees beside it. Naked."
He leaves the room. The bedroom door is already open. She rises on unsteady legs and goes to do as she's told.
The bed is a low platform frame with dark sheets. She strips them efficiently — fitted sheet, flat sheet, pillowcases — and piles them in the corner. He'll want clean ones laid out fresh after. That's part of the pattern too.
She undresses. The dress falls to a puddle at her feet. She unhooks her bra, rolls down her stockings, and folds everything into a neat stack. Naked except for the collar, she kneels beside the bed.
The hardwood is cold and unforgiving. She focuses on the sensation, lets it ground her. Her nipples tighten in the air-conditioned stillness. Her skin prickles with anticipation.
He returns with ropes.
Three lengths of jute, already coiled. A fourth rope, thinner, with a metal clip at the end. He sets them on the nightstand and looks at her.
"How many days since I took you apart?"
"Six," she says. Her voice cracks. "Six days, sir."
"Six days is too long." He crosses to her, hands finding her shoulders, pushing her forward until her forehead touches the floor. Ass up, knees apart, presenting herself. "You get needier every time. You know that?"
"Yes, sir."
"You've been thinking about it. During your soundcheck. During rehearsal. Looking at the cameras and imagining what they'd see if they knew."
Her breath hitches. "Yes, sir."
He runs a hand down her spine, slow and deliberate, stopping at the small of her back. "You want them to know, don't you? You want everyone to see what you really are."
"No, sir." The lie tastes thin. "Just you. Only you."
"Lift up."
She rises back to her knees. He takes her wrists and crosses them behind her back. The jute wraps around her skin in precise loops — not tight, never truly tight, but bound. A knot at the wrists, then another, then the rope winding up her forearms in a pattern he's taught her to recognize. The futomomo. The rope bites into the soft flesh of her upper arms. She flexes against it and feels the resistance, the surrender.
He pauses. "Color?"
"Green," she breathes.
"Good."
He works the rope around her thighs next, binding her calves to her thighs in diamond patterns that force her to stay folded, to stay open. When he's done she can't straighten her legs. Can barely shift position. She kneels there, trussed and exposed, and the vulnerability of it makes her slick.
He slides two fingers along her cunt without warning. She gasps. He doesn't say anything, just shows her the wetness on his fingertips, then wipes them on her thigh.
"You're ready."
He caps her mouth with the ball gag. The rubber sphere fills her mouth, the strap buckling tight behind her head. Her whimper comes out muffled. Drool immediately starts to pool at the corners of her lips.
He drags her to the center of the bed by her bound ankles.
Kyujin lands on her back, ropes creaking, hair splayed across the bare mattress. Her thighs are bound open, pressed against her chest, the futomomo rigging forcing her into a permanent display. Her pussy is completely exposed — wet, swollen, the lips parted and glistening.
He stands at the foot of the bed, looking at her like she's a spread meal.
"Beautiful," he says, and the word cuts through her like a blade. "You were made for this."
He climbs onto the bed. His weight dips the mattress. He settles between her bound thighs, his belt buckle pressing cold against her slick skin, and reaches for the crop.
The first stroke lands across her left breast.
The sound of it. The sharp crack that follows the swing. Her body jerks, a muffled cry escaping through the gag. The pain blooms white-hot then settles into a deep throb.
"You count," he says.
She nods frantically.
The second stroke hits her other breast, symmetrical, perfect. Her eyes sting.
Two.
The third lands across her ribs. The fourth across her stomach. Each one makes her buck, makes her thighs strain against the ropes, makes the drool run faster down her chin. She's counting in her head, losing track, then finding it again. Seven. Eight. Nine. Her skin is on fire. Her cunt is dripping onto the sheets.
Fifteen.
The crop traces down her body, the leather tip dragging through the sheen of sweat on her stomach, dipping between her legs. He presses the flat end against her clit.
"Look at you," he murmurs. "Soaked from getting spanked. You're not right in the head, you know that?"
She moans an agreement.
He discards the crop. Unbuckles his belt. The sound of his zipper fills the room. He frees his cock — thick, hard, the head already slick. He strokes himself once, twice, then lines up at her entrance.
He doesn't push in.
He just holds it there, the tip pressing against her, teasing the opening she can't close. Her body trembles. Her hips try to tilt, to take him, but the ropes hold her in place. She's completely at his mercy.
"Beg," he says.
She can't. The gag makes it impossible. She whines, eyes wide, nodding frantically, making pleading sounds that come out distorted and pathetic.
He slaps her cunt. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to shock. "Try harder."
She screams against the gag. A raw, desperate sound. She's crying now — tears spilling over her cheekbones, mixing with the drool. She nods and nods and makes the ugliest sounds she can manage.
"Good enough."
He sinks into her in one smooth thrust.
Kyujin's back arches off the bed. Her scream is swallowed by rubber. He fills her completely, stretching her, the sensation overwhelming after six days without. Her walls clamp down, trying to adjust, and he gives her exactly one second before he pulls back and drives in again.
He fucks her hard and fast. No warm-up. No mercy. His hips slap against her bound thighs, the sound wet and rhythmic. Her breasts bounce with every thrust. The crop marks glow red across her pale skin.
He reaches down and finds her clit with his thumb, pressing hard circles into the swollen nub.
Her muffled screams pitch higher. Her whole body locks up, the orgasm building too fast, too bright. She shakes her head — not yet, not yet — but he doesn't stop. He presses harder, fucks deeper, and she comes with a broken cry that rips through her chest.
Her vision whites out. Her muscles spasm around his cock, milking him, and he keeps thrusting through it, drawing it out until she's sobbing and trembling beneath him.
"That's one," he says. "I'm not close."
He pulls out. The absence is almost painful. She lies there, bound and dripping, gasping through the gag.
He flips her over.
The ropes force her to fold. She ends up on her chest, knees tucked under her, ass raised, the futomomo rigging keeping her legs pressed into a frog position. He yanks her up by the collar — the leather digs into her throat, cutting off her air for a moment before he loosens it.
"Stay."
He leaves the bed. Returns with the thin rope. He clips it to the ring at the front of her collar, then runs it back between her legs, over her bound wrists, and up to his hand. A makeshift lead.
"On your hands. No — on your elbows."
She struggles into position. The rope creaks. Her elbows dig into the mattress, her ass high in the air, her face pressed sideways into the sheets. He tugs the lead and her head lifts, her spine curving.
The new angle exposes everything.
He enters her from behind. The change in position makes him hit deeper, the angle different, the stretch sharper. She muffles a scream into the mattress.
He starts fucking her and yanking the lead in rhythm.
Every pull on the rope tightens the tension between her collar and her wrists, forces her spine to bow further, makes her take him deeper. The rope between her legs rubs against her clit with every movement — a friction she didn't expect, that she can't escape. Her second orgasm builds without permission.
"Look at you," he grunts above her. "My little pet. My perfect little whore."
She moans in response, the sound animal and raw.
He wraps her hair around his fist and pulls. Her head snaps back, the gag pressing deeper, her throat exposed. He fucks her harder, faster, the slap of his hips against her ass echoing in the room.
"I'm going to fill you up," he says, voice low and rough. "Going to pump this cunt full until it leaks out of you. That's what you want, isn't it?"
She can't nod — he has her hair. But she whimpers, desperate, pleading.
"Tell me."
She screams against the gag, a long, incoherent sound that means yes yes please yes.
He comes with a guttural groan, his hips locking against hers, and she feels it — the hot pulse of him filling her, pumping deep, flooding her with the evidence of his claim. The sensation triggers her own orgasm, a convulsion that rips through her, her walls clenching around him, milking every drop.
They stay frozen for a long moment. His cock still inside her, his hand still fisted in her hair, the rope still taut between them.
Then he breathes out, slow and satisfied, and begins to untie her.
Later — she's not sure how much later — she's on her knees in front of him again. The ropes are gone. The gag is gone. The collar remains.
She's cleaning him with her tongue. Slow, methodical, tasting herself on his skin. He strokes her hair with something approaching tenderness.
"Good girl," he says. "You took that so well."
She looks up at him, eyes still wet, lips swollen, marks blooming across her skin like flowers.
"Thank you, sir."
He tilts her chin up. "Come here."
She rises into his lap. He wraps an arm around her waist and holds her against his chest, her ear pressed to his heartbeat. She can feel his cum still leaking out of her, warm and wet against her thigh.
"How's your body?"
"Good," she says. "Sore. Good."
"Marks are going to be visible tomorrow."
"I'll cover them. I always do."
He kisses the top of her head. And for a few minutes, there's nothing else — no cameras, no schedules, no thousands of eyes demanding she be someone else. Just her, here, held, owned, complete.
"One more round before I let you sleep," he says.
She lifts her head, already nodding.
"Please, sir."
He smiles. It's the only smile he gives her, the one that belongs to this room, this version of her. "On your back. I want to watch your face when you break."
The makeup artist had a habit of chewing on the end of his blending brush when she was concentrating, a quirk that usually meant he was obsessing over the symmetry of a winged eyeliner. She leaned in, her breath smelling faintly of peppermint, and gave a final, precise tug to a stray strand of hair near Winter’s temple. "Looks like this is going to be a long day," she murmured, glancing at the sheer volume of wardrobe racks waiting in the wings.
Winter caught his eye in the mirror and offered a small, genuine smile. "Yeah, you're right," she said, shifting her shoulders to settle the heavy fabric of the first gown. "I still have a lot of outfits to change into today."
The transition from the hushed, powder-scented sanctuary of the dressing room to the main studio was a jump in energy. The air in the center of the room was cooler, humming with the low drone of industrial fans and the distant chatter of the crew. The photographer was already pacing a small perimeter, his eyes scanning the lighting rigs, while his assistant fussed with a reflector, angling it to catch the harsh overhead glow.
"Perfect. Just like that... yeah, that's it," the assistant whispered, his voice barely audible over the clicking of the camera. Winter didn't need a map for the shoot; she moved by instinct, shifting her weight from one heel to the other, tilting her chin just enough to catch the light. She flowed through the poses—sharp, then soft, then distant—each movement a calculated sliver of a different personality.
The shutter clicked in a rapid, rhythmic staccato, sounding like a swarm of metallic insects. After a final burst of flashes, the photographer lowered his camera and let out a satisfied exhale. "Great. Let's move on to the next look," he called out. Winter gave a polite nod to the team and turned back toward the dressing room, the heavy silk of her dress trailing behind her on the polished concrete floor.
"Wait, the taupe is too quiet," the stylist whispered, diving into the racks like a scavenger. She emerged seconds later with a garment that seemed to defy the laws of traditional corporate wear.
Winter stepped back into the light wearing a sophisticated earth-toned ensemble that blurred the line between a boardroom and a battlefield. The centerpiece was a lightweight taupe bomber-style jacket, its subtle sheen catching the studio lights in a way that made the fabric look almost metallic. It featured oversized sleeves and structured cuffs that gave her a commanding silhouette, while the relaxed drape of the jacket provided a soft contrast to the precision of the rest of the look. Beneath the jacket, a high-neck inner layer peeked through, adding a layer of architectural depth to her neckline.
The transition from the loose jacket to the lower half of the outfit was a masterclass in texture. Winter stepped into a high-waisted, chocolate-brown satin pencil skirt that clung to her frame before falling just below the knees. The fabric was softly crinkled, shimmering with every shift of her weight, creating a liquid effect that grounded the airy taupe of the top. She finished the look with sheer black tights and pointed black stilettos that added an aggressive edge to the softness of the colors. To break the minimalism, a single, oversized crystal statement earring caught the light, acting as a focal point that drew the eye straight to her sharp gaze.
"Now we're talking," the photographer said, his voice humming with renewed energy. He didn't tell her where to stand this time; he simply started clicking. Winter felt the shift in the room. The previous gowns had been about fantasy and distance, but this—this felt like her. She leaned into the utilitarian edge of the outfit, her movements becoming more rhythmic and purposeful, utilizing the structure of the jacket to create angles that felt powerful rather than passive.
"Hold that. Don't move a muscle," the photographer commanded, though his voice was breathless, almost reverent. Winter froze, her body coiled like a spring, one hand resting lightly on her hip while the other brushed the lapel of the taupe jacket. She didn't just hold the pose; she inhabited it, imagining the air around her thickening into something tangible that she could push against. The shutter continued its rapid-fire cadence, the flashes strobe-lighting the room in rhythmic bursts that blurred the edges of her vision.
"The line of the shoulder is unbelievable," the assistant whispered, stepping forward to adjust the reflector by a fraction of an inch. He looked at the raw images on the monitor and let out a low whistle. "The way the satin catches the shadow—it’s like liquid. You're making this look effortless, Winter. Absolutely effortless."
The photographer didn't stop clicking, his movements now a frantic, inspired dance. "Exactly! That’s the one! The confidence is radiating off the lens," he called out, his voice echoing in the cavernous studio. "Give me one more shift, just a tilt of the chin—yes! Perfect! You're hitting every mark before I even think of them."
Winter felt a warmth bloom in her chest that had nothing to do with the studio lights. For years, she had been a canvas for other people's visions, a silent vessel for the clothes they wanted to sell. But today, the synergy was different. As she shifted her weight, the crinkled satin of the skirt whispered against her legs, and she felt a sudden, vivid memory of the first time she had stepped onto a professional set a decade ago—the shaking knees, the uncertainty, the way she had looked to the photographer for permission to exist in the frame. Now, she was the one providing the direction.
The momentum carried her forward into a series of faster, more intuitive movements. She stopped waiting for the "click" to tell her when to move and began to lead the rhythm herself. She used the oversized sleeves of the bomber jacket to create bold, architectural shapes against the white backdrop, playing with the contrast between the softness of the fabric and the hardness of her gaze. The crew fell into a synchronized orbit around her, the assistant anticipating her every tilt and the photographer capturing the peaks of her energy with an almost manic precision. For the first time in a long time, the shoot didn't feel like work; it felt like a conversation.
"And that is a wrap on the taupe!" the photographer shouted, finally lowering his camera as if it were a heavy weapon he was finally resting. The sudden silence that rushed back into the room was deafening, leaving only the fading hum of the industrial fans and the soft, rhythmic clicking of the cooling lamps. Winter let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her muscles relaxing as the high-voltage energy of the set dissolved into the usual post-shot chaos.
She didn't head straight for the dressing room this time. Instead, she paused by the monitor, her eyes scanning the raw files. The images were startling; she looked less like a model and more like an architect of her own image, the taupe jacket casting shadows that looked like ink on a canvas. The assistant stood beside her, his face illuminated by the blue glow of the screen. "You've changed," he whispered, not as a critique, but as an observation of a fact. "The way you're owning the space now... it's like you've stopped asking for permission."
"The ivory is next," the stylist announced, her voice cutting through the lingering silence of the studio. She didn't just bring the clothes; she presented them like a curated exhibit, holding up a tailored ensemble that seemed to radiate a quiet, blinding purity.
Winter stepped back into the light, and the room seemed to calibrate itself to her new frequency. She had traded the aggressive edge of the taupe for a look of timeless, architectural clarity: an oversized ivory blazer with shoulders broad enough to carry the weight of the room. The fit was relaxed, allowing the structured fabric to drape effortlessly over her frame, while the classic notch lapels and a row of dark, contrasting buttons provided the only anchors in a sea of cream. Beneath the blazer, she wore a high-neck blouse, the monochrome palette broken only by a singular, delicate black floral detail at the collar—a tiny, intricate knot of ink against a canvas of white.
The matching ivory trousers flowed from her waist, creating a seamless, elongated silhouette that made her appear as though she were carved from a single piece of marble. With her hair allowed to fall in natural, loose waves framing her face and minimal accessories, the outfit didn't scream for attention; it commanded it through the sheer precision of its tailoring. She felt lighter, less like a warrior and more like a diplomat, the understated elegance of the clothes acting as a shield of composure.
"Don't breathe," the photographer whispered, though he wasn't looking at Winter—he was staring at the screen. He didn't even lift the camera to his eye; he just held it at chest level, clicking blindly, as if the mere act of triggering the shutter was enough to capture the atmosphere. He looked as though he had just stumbled upon a mathematical proof that solved the universe. "The ivory... it's not just a color. It's a frequency."
The assistant had stopped moving entirely, the reflector slipping an inch in his grip. He wasn't checking the lighting anymore; he was just looking at Winter, his mouth slightly agape. He had seen a thousand faces in this studio, but the way the ivory fabric seemed to merge with the pale glow of the studio walls created an optical illusion of luminescence. Winter didn't look like she was wearing the clothes; she looked like she had been synthesized from the fabric itself, a living sculpture of cream and light that made the cavernous room feel suddenly small and cluttered.
For a few seconds, the only sound was the cooling hum of the equipment. The crew had fallen into a collective trance, caught in the gravity of her composure. Winter felt the weight of their gaze—not as a pressure, but as a confirmation. She shifted her weight, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a ripple through the ivory trousers, and the photographer let out a sharp, involuntary gasp. He began to shoot again, but this time the rhythm was different; it wasn't a staccato burst, but a slow, reverent cadence, capturing the stillness between her breaths.
"I think we've officially moved past 'clothing' and into 'industrial design,'" the stylist whispered, though her eyes were gleaming with triumph.
A few minutes later, Winter emerged from the dressing room, and the air in the studio seemed to shift, vibrating with a new, synthetic energy. She was encased in a glossy, nude-peach gown that didn't just catch the light—it manipulated it. The material was a high-tech, leather-like hybrid that clung to her figure with a liquid precision, creating a silhouette that felt both organic and engineered. The high neckline and long sleeves extended partially over her hands, leaving only the tips of her fingers visible, making her movements feel deliberate, almost feline.
The dress was a study in disciplined minimalism. Simple rectangular panels were stitched across the torso and hips, providing a rhythmic, architectural structure that broke up the expanse of the shimmering peach. There were no sequins to distract, no bold patterns to shout; the elegance lay in the seamless flow of the fabric as it pooled around her feet in a heavy, graceful spill. As she stepped toward the center of the room, the glossy surface reflected the overhead rigs like a mirrored lake, casting soft, peach-toned glows onto the polished concrete.
The photographer lowered his camera for a brief moment. He didn't speak immediately; he simply looked at the way the garment interacted with Winter’s posture, the way the futuristic sheen contrasted with the softness of her expression. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face, the kind of look a collector gives a masterpiece they didn't expect to find. "This look is amazing," he murmured, his voice returning to its professional, driven clip. "Alright, let's get started."
This time, the direction was visceral. He wanted her to play with the tension of the fabric, to lean into the artificiality of the material. Winter found herself gliding rather than walking, the weight of the gown grounding her while the glossy finish made her feel as though she were slipping through the air. She experimented with the sleeves, letting the fabric bunch slightly at her wrists, creating a sense of constrained power. The photographer moved in close, capturing the way the nude-peach hue blurred the line between her skin and the garment, making her look like a creature born from a digital render.
"The white void was gone." In its place, the studio had been recalibrated into a minimalist sanctuary of chrome and shadow, anchored by a sleek, obsidian-black sports car that sat at the center like a sleeping predator. The backdrop was no longer a blank canvas but a series of moody, slate-grey panels that absorbed the light, making the car’s polished curves bleed into the darkness. It wasn't an elaborate set, but the shift in geometry changed everything; the atmosphere had pivoted from the ethereal to the cinematic.
Winter glided toward the vehicle, the nude-peach gown shimmering against the dark metal. She began with the basics—the standard catalog poses: a casual lean against the fender, a poised stance by the driver’s side door, a tilt of the chin that played into the car’s aggressive lines. Despite the simplicity, the visual tension was electric. The glossy, leather-like fabric of her dress clung to her every curve with a precision that felt almost predatory, and every time she shifted, the light danced across the peach surface in a way that left both the photographer and his assistant momentarily breathless.
Winter didn't miss the way their eyes lingered a second too long, or the sudden, clumsy hesitation in the assistant's movements. A small, secret smile touched her lips. She had spent years being the perfect instrument, the silent professional who executed the vision. But today, the power dynamic had shifted. She felt a sudden, playful urge to see exactly how much she could disrupt their composure.
"What do you think of the photos?" the photographer asked, his voice slightly strained as he reviewed the raw frames.
Winter stepped closer, her gaze scanning the monitor. The images were flawless, but they lacked a certain spark. "I like them," she murmured, her voice light, "but they feel a little too safe. There's nothing really... daring about them. Why don't we try something a little bolder?"
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Tags : Crazy Love, Yandere, Bully to Lover, Dark Romance, Forced Sex, Impregnation, Blowjob, Jealousy, Close Call, Possesive, Toxic, Stalker, Cowgirl, Teasing, Kissing, University AU, Kinky, Creampies
Words : 12,110 Words
The fluorescent lights in the campus cafeteria hummed their usual death-rattle tune, a sound you'd long ago learned to tune out. You kept your head down, earbuds in but playing nothing—just a prop to discourage conversation. The table in the far corner, the one with the wobbly leg and the suspicious stain that looked like old soy sauce, was your designated zone. Safety through obscurity.
Your tray held the same lunch you'd eaten every Tuesday for two years: chicken cutlet, rice, kimchi. Predictable. Controllable. The kind of meal that didn't surprise you.
Across the cafeteria, a burst of laughter rang out. You didn't need to look up to know who it was. Jiheon's laugh had a quality to it—something bright and unselfconscious, like wind chimes in a breeze that actually knew what it was doing. Your chopsticks paused mid-air. Just for a second. Just long enough for your eyes to betray you and flick toward the source.
She was surrounded by her usual orbit of friends, her dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, cheeks flushed from whatever joke had just landed. Lee Jiheon. Third-year. Psychology major. The kind of person who remembered the cafeteria lady's birthday and actually meant it when she asked how your day was going. Not that she'd ever asked you.
You stabbed the chicken cutlet with more force than necessary. Stupid. This was stupid. You were twenty-two years old, not some hormonal teenager who couldn't keep his eyes to himself. But Jiheon had been your stupid secret for over a year now, ever since she'd held the door for you during a rainstorm and smiled like you actually mattered. You'd replayed that three-second interaction more times than you'd care to admit, each replay wearing the memory a little thinner, a little more pathetic.
The cutlet had gone cold. You kept eating anyway.
"You're in my seat."
The voice came from behind you, and your stomach dropped into some deeper cavity of your body where it could shrivel and die in peace. You recognized that tone—half amusement, half malice, the vocal equivalent of someone poking a caged animal with a stick just to watch it flinch.
Park Sohyun dropped her tray onto the table with a clatter that made the nearby students glance over. She slid into the seat across from you without waiting for permission, because why would she? Permission implied you had a choice.
"Didn't answer my texts," she said, popping a piece of tteokbokki into her mouth. "Rude."
You hadn't received any texts. You'd blocked her number two months ago after she'd sent you a series of increasingly creative insults at three in the morning. You'd changed your number last week.
"I was busy," you muttered.
"Busy." Sohyun chewed thoughtfully, her dark eyes fixed on you with that unsettling intensity she always seemed to carry. She was pretty in a sharp way—angular jaw, full lips that usually curved into a smirk, the kind of face that made people nervous without knowing why. "Doing what? Staring at Jiheon again?"
Your jaw tightened. The kimchi turned to ash in your mouth.
"Don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't." Sohyun leaned forward, and you caught a whiff of her perfume—something floral and expensive that seemed entirely at odds with her personality. "You know, you're not exactly subtle. Head down, earbuds in, but your eyes track her around the room like a sad little puppy. It's almost cute. Almost."
You didn't respond. Years of experience had taught you that engaging with Sohyun was like pouring gasoline on a fire—you always ended up burned, and she always ended up entertained.
"Nothing to say?" She tilted her head. "Come on. Give me something. I'm bored."
"Find someone else to entertain you."
"But you're my favorite." The way she said it made the words sound like a threat. "You never fight back. It's refreshing. Everyone else gets all huffy and offended, but you just… take it. Like you think you deserve it or something."
You risked a glance at her face. There was something flickering behind her expression—curiosity, maybe, or the particular kind of hunger that came from finding a puzzle she couldn't immediately solve.
"I don't think I deserve it," you said quietly. "I just don't care enough to react."
The lie tasted familiar on your tongue. You cared. Of course you cared. The insults burrowed under your skin like parasites, and at night, in the darkness of your studio apartment, you replayed them on a loop until your chest ached with something too exhausted to be anger. But showing Sohyun that vulnerability would be like bleeding in front of a shark.
Her eyes narrowed slightly—the only indication that your response had landed somewhere unexpected. Then she laughed, short and sharp.
"Bullshit," she said. "But okay. Keep your secrets." She stood up, grabbing her tray. "See you around, loser."
She said it with the casualness of someone commenting on the weather. Loser. As if that single word encapsulated everything you were and everything you'd ever be.
You watched her walk away, hips swaying with a confidence that felt almost aggressive, and you wondered—not for the first time—what you'd done to earn her attention. You'd never spoken to her before she'd started targeting you. Never looked at her wrong. Never existed in her orbit until she'd decided to pull you into it.
Some people just needed someone to step on, you supposed. And you'd made yourself very easy to step on.
The library was your refuge. Third floor, back corner, the section nobody visited because the books were outdated and the heating was broken. You'd discovered it during your first year, and it had become something of a second home—a place where the silence felt intentional rather than imposed.
Today, though, the silence felt heavy. Your ribs still ached from where you'd twisted wrong during your morning run, and your mind kept drifting back to Sohyun's words. Like you think you deserve it.
Did you? That was the question that kept you up at night. Years of isolation had a way of warping your self-perception, turning every rejection into evidence, every silence into confirmation. You'd stopped trying to make friends after high school. Stopped reaching out. Stopped hoping. It was easier to build walls than to keep watching doors slam shut.
You pulled out your textbook—Cognitive Psychology, the bane of your existence—and tried to focus on the chapter about memory consolidation. The words blurred together. Your thoughts kept snagging on Jiheon's laugh, the way it had bounced off the cafeteria walls like light off water.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
The sun had begun its descent by the time you packed up your things, painting the library windows in shades of orange and pink. You took the stairs instead of the elevator—habit, muscle memory—and emerged into the evening air with the relief of a diver breaking the surface.
The campus was quiet this time of day. Most students had already retreated to their dorms or apartments, leaving the pathways empty and the buildings dark. Your own apartment was a twenty-minute walk away, a cramped studio that ate up most of your part-time salary but at least gave you a door you could lock.
You'd made it halfway across the quad when you heard the voices.
They came from the narrow alley between the science building and the old gymnasium—a shortcut you never took because the lighting was terrible and the echo made everything sound sinister. You stopped walking. Something in the tone made your skin crawl.
"—told you not to call me again."
Female. Familiar. Your stomach lurched.
"Sohyun, come on. Don't be like that."
Male. Deep. The kind of voice that rumbled in your chest even from a distance.
"I'm serious, Sungbin. We're done. Stop showing up here."
Sungbin. The name triggered something in your memory—a rumor you'd overheard months ago. Sohyun's ex-boyfriend. The one who'd been suspended after a fight. The one people whispered about in tones usually reserved for ghost stories.
"I said don't be like that." His voice had shifted. Harder now. The pleasant veneer cracking at the edges. "After everything I did for you? You're just gonna walk away?"
"I'm not walking away. I'm telling you to leave me alone."
You should have kept walking. This wasn't your business. Sohyun wasn't your friend. She'd made your life miserable for two years, and whatever trouble she'd gotten herself into with this guy was her problem, not yours.
You took a step toward the path home.
Then you heard the slap.
It wasn't loud—just a sharp crack of skin against skin, followed by Sohyun's startled cry. Your feet stopped moving. Your heart, which had been beating a steady rhythm of self-preservation, stuttered.
"What the fuck, Sungbin—"
"Shut up." His voice had gone cold. Deadly. "You don't get to talk to me like that. You don't get to walk away."
Another sound—a thud, like a body hitting the wall. Sohyun's voice again, higher this time, tinged with something you'd never heard from her before.
Fear.
"Please. You're hurting me—"
"Good. Maybe it'll help you remember who you belong to."
You were moving before you'd made the conscious decision to do so. Your legs carried you into the alley, into the darkness, toward a situation that every rational part of your brain was screaming at you to avoid.
They were maybe twenty feet from the alley entrance. Sohyun was pressed against the brick wall, Sungbin's forearm across her throat, his other hand fisted in her hair. She was struggling, but it was a weak, desperate thing—the struggle of someone who knew she was outmatched.
"Hey."
Your voice came out steadier than you felt. Sungbin's head snapped toward you, and you got your first clear look at his face. Handsome in a brutal way. Jaw like a concrete block. Eyes that held all the warmth of a frozen lake.
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Let her go."
Sohyun's eyes found yours. Wide. Disbelieving. Her lip was split, a thin line of blood trailing down her chin. The sight of it did something strange to your chest—something that felt like anger but burned hotter.
"This doesn't concern you," Sungbin said, his arm still pressed against Sohyun's throat. "Walk away. Pretend you didn't see anything."
"Can't do that."
"Can't do that," he mocked, pitching his voice higher. "Brave guy, huh? You think this is a movie? You think the hero gets the girl?" He released Sohyun's hair and turned to face you fully. He was bigger than you'd realized. Taller. Broader. The kind of physique that came from hours in a gym and maybe a little chemical assistance. "Last chance. Walk away."
Your body was screaming at you to listen to him. Every instinct you'd honed over years of avoiding conflict was telling you to turn around, to pretend you hadn't seen anything, to go home and forget this ever happened.
But Sohyun was crying. Park Sohyun, who'd made your life hell with a smile on her face, was crying against a brick wall, and you couldn't make yourself move.
"No."
Sungbin's expression shifted. The cold anger gave way to something almost amused—the look of a cat who'd just spotted a particularly stupid mouse.
"Your funeral."
He moved faster than you expected. The first punch caught you in the stomach before you'd even registered his approach, driving the air from your lungs in a explosive rush. You doubled over, gasping, and his knee came up to meet your face.
Pain. Bright and spectacular. The taste of copper flooded your mouth as your lip split against your teeth. You staggered backward, arms raised in a pathetic attempt at defense, but Sungbin was already swinging again—a right hook that connected with your temple and sent fireworks exploding across your vision.
"Stop!" Sohyun's voice, distant and distorted. "Sungbin, stop! You're going to kill him!"
"Good."
His fist slammed into your ribs. Something cracked—you felt it more than heard it, a sickening give beneath the skin that sent lightning bolts of agony through your entire torso. You crumpled. Your knees hit the concrete. Your palms scraped against gravel.
"Not so brave now, are you?" His voice came from above you, muffled by the ringing in your ears. "Not so fucking brave."
His foot connected with your side. Then again. Then again. Each impact sent fresh waves of pain cascading through your body, blurring the world into a smear of darkness and streetlight and blood.
Blood. There was a lot of it. It was pooling beneath your face, warm and sticky, filling your mouth with salt and iron. You tried to push yourself up, but your arms wouldn't cooperate. Your body had stopped listening to your brain.
"Sungbin, please!" Sohyun was screaming now. "Please, I'll do whatever you want, just stop!"
The beating paused. Through the haze of pain, you saw Sungbin turn toward her, chest heaving, knuckles wet with your blood.
"Whatever I want?"
"Yes. Yes. Just let him go."
A long pause. Then: "Fine."
The pressure of his presence retreated. Footsteps echoed on concrete, fading toward the other end of the alley. Sohyun's voice, smaller now: "Sungbin? Where are you… Sungbin!"
And then silence. Just the sound of your own ragged breathing and the distant hum of the city beyond campus.
You lay there for what felt like hours. The concrete was cold against your cheek. Your blood had begun to dry, tacky and stiff, pulling at your skin every time you tried to move.
Hands touched your shoulder. Gentle. Trembling.
"Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god."
Sohyun. She'd rolled you onto your back, and her face swam into view above you. Pale, terrified, tears cutting tracks through the dust on her cheeks.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't—I never thought he'd—" She choked on the words. "I called an ambulance. They're coming. Just stay awake, okay? Please stay awake."
You tried to respond, but your mouth wasn't working right. Something gurgled in your throat—blood, probably—and Sohyun's face crumpled.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why did you do that? I've been so horrible to you. I've made your life miserable. Why would you—" She pressed her hand against your chest, as if she could hold your life inside your body through sheer force of will. "You're so stupid. You're the stupidest person I've ever met."
The sirens were approaching. Distant, but getting closer.
Sohyun stayed there, kneeling in your blood, her hand pressed over your heart like a promise you didn't understand.
The hospital kept you for three days.
Two cracked ribs. A concussion. Seventeen stitches in your lip and eyebrow. Bruises that bloomed across your torso in shades of purple and black and sickly yellow-green. The doctor said you were lucky—no internal bleeding, no permanent damage, just a body that would ache for weeks and scars that would linger for years.
You didn't feel lucky.
The police came on the second day. You gave them a statement, sticking to the facts: you'd seen a woman being assaulted, you'd intervened, the man had attacked you. Yes, you could identify him. Yes, you'd be willing to testify. No, you didn't know why Sungbin had been there.
They found him two days later, trying to cross the border into Canada. The arrest made the local news—a small segment between the weather and the sports scores. You watched it from your hospital bed, the television's glow painting your bandaged face in shades of blue.
Sohyun didn't visit. You weren't surprised. Why would she? You'd been a tool, a convenient distraction that had given her time to escape. Now that the danger was past, you'd return to your designated role: the invisible loser, the easy target, the boy who sat in the corner and waited for the world to stop hurting him.
You were discharged on a Thursday morning. The campus had continued without you, students walking the same paths, attending the same classes, living the same lives. The world hadn't paused for your moment of heroism. It never did.
Your first day back to class was a study in pain management.
Every step sent a dull throb through your ribs. The stitches in your lip pulled every time you spoke—not that you had much to say. You'd considered skipping entirely, but there was an exam coming up, and you'd already missed a week of lectures. Being a hero didn't pay the bills or pass your classes.
The lecture hall was half-empty when you arrived. You chose a seat near the back, as far from the professor's line of sight as possible, and spent the first ten minutes trying to find a position that didn't make your ribs scream.
You'd just managed something approaching comfort when a shadow fell across your desk.
"Hey."
The voice made your heart lurch. You looked up.
Lee Jiheon stood beside your desk, holding her textbook against her chest like a shield. Her dark eyes were fixed on your face—on the stitches, the bruises, the roadmap of purple and yellow that traced the path of Sungbin's fists. She looked… worried. Genuinely worried.
"Hi," you managed.
"That looks painful." She winced. "I mean—obviously it looks painful. You look like you got hit by a truck. Not that you look bad! Just—hurt. You look hurt. Which makes sense. Because you got hurt." She closed her eyes, exhaled. "I'm going to stop talking now."
Despite everything—the pain, the exhaustion, the lingering taste of copper in your mouth—you felt the corner of your lip twitch upward. It pulled at your stitches. You didn't care.
"It's okay," you said. "I know what you meant."
Jiheon opened her eyes. A flush had crept up her neck, painting her cheeks pink. "Can I sit here? My usual seat's taken, and I—" She gestured vaguely at the empty chair beside you. "Is this okay?"
Was this okay. Lee Jiheon was asking if she could sit next to you. The girl you'd been silently pining over for more than a year was standing at your desk, her books clutched to her chest, asking for permission to exist in your proximity.
"Yeah," you said, and your voice came out embarrassingly hoarse. "Yeah, of course."
Her smile was like sunrise. Slow. Warm. Spreading across her face until it reached her eyes and made them crinkle at the corners.
"Thanks." She slid into the seat beside you, close enough that you could smell her shampoo—something light and citrusy. "So, um. I heard what happened. With Sohyun and her ex. Everyone's talking about it."
Your stomach tightened. "Great."
"No, I mean—" She bit her lip. "You did something really brave. Like, incredibly brave. Most people would've just walked away. But you didn't." Her voice dropped, softer now. "Why?"
There it was. The question Sohyun had asked in the alley, her voice breaking over the words. Why did you do that? You still didn't have a good answer.
"I don't know," you admitted. "I just… couldn't not do it. You know?"
Jiheon's expression shifted—something flickering in her eyes that you couldn't quite read. "That's amazing," she said quietly. "Not that you got hurt—that's terrible—but that you just… acted. Without thinking about yourself. That's not something most people can do."
The professor arrived before you could respond, launching into a lecture about social psychology that you barely heard. Your attention kept drifting to the girl beside you—the way she chewed on her pen cap when she was thinking, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the way she occasionally glanced at you from the corner of her eye as if making sure you were still there.
After class, she lingered. So did you.
"You're coming back tomorrow, right?" she asked, shouldering her bag. "To class, I mean."
"Probably. Unless my ribs stage a mutiny."
"That's a terrible joke." But she was smiling again. "I'll save you a seat. If you want."
Your heart did something complicated in your chest—a stutter-step that had nothing to do with cracked ribs and everything to do with the way her eyes caught the fluorescent light. "Okay."
"Okay." She held your gaze for a moment longer than necessary. "See you tomorrow, then."
You watched her walk away, her ponytail swinging with each step, and allowed yourself—for the first time in years—to feel something that wasn't resignation.
Hope.
Sohyun was waiting for you outside your apartment.
You spotted her from the end of the hallway, a dark figure slumped against your door like she'd been there for hours. She looked different from the last time you'd seen her. Smaller, somehow. The sharp edges of her confidence had been sanded down into something raw and uncertain.
She looked up at the sound of your footsteps. Her eyes were red-rimmed. She'd been crying.
"Hey," she said. Her voice was hoarse. "Can we talk?"
You stopped a few feet away from her, keys dangling from your hand. Every instinct told you to turn around, to walk away, to protect the fragile bubble of hope that had been building in your chest since your conversation with Jiheon.
But you'd already proven that your instincts were garbage.
"About what?"
Sohyun laughed—a broken, humorless sound. "About everything. About how I've treated you for two years. About what you did." She gestured at your face, at the bruises that mapped the violence you'd absorbed on her behalf. "About this."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine." Her voice cracked. "Nothing about this is fine. I bullied you. I made your life hell. You had no reason to help me. None. And you still—" She pressed her palm against her mouth, muffling what sounded like a sob. "Why? Why did you do that? I don't understand."
You leaned against the wall, careful not to jostle your ribs. "Does it matter?"
"It matters to me." She dropped her hand. Her eyes were fierce despite the tears. "I need to know. Was it pity? Did you feel sorry for me? Because if you did—"
"It wasn't pity."
"Then what?"
You considered the question. Turned it over in your mind. The truth was complicated—a tangle of half-formed impulses and deeply buried principles that you'd never fully articulated. You didn't like Sohyun. You didn't even really forgive her. But when you'd seen her pressed against that wall, seen the fear in her eyes, seen Sungbin's arm across her throat… something had overridden every rational objection. A line you couldn't cross. A choice you couldn't unmake.
"Because it was wrong," you said finally. "What he was doing. It was wrong. And someone had to stop it."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
Sohyun stared at you for a long moment. Then she shook her head, a strange smile twisting her lips. "You're insane. You're genuinely insane. A girl who's done nothing but torture you for years, and you risk your life for her because it was wrong." She laughed again, but this time there was something heavier beneath it. "I don't deserve that. I don't deserve you."
"Probably not," you agreed. "But it's done now."
She flinched. You hadn't meant it as a weapon, but the words landed like one anyway.
"I'm trying to apologize," she said quietly. "I know it doesn't fix anything. I know words are cheap. But I wanted you to hear it, at least once. I'm sorry. For everything. For the texts and the insults and the way I made you feel small. You didn't deserve any of it."
The hallway felt very quiet. Somewhere in the distance, a door closed. A dog barked. The world continued its indifferent rotation.
"Okay," you said.
"Okay?"
"I heard you. I don't—" You hesitated. "I don't know what you want me to say. I don't forgive you. I don't think I'm capable of that right now. But I heard you."
Sohyun nodded slowly, as if this was the response she'd expected. "That's fair." She pushed herself off your door, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I should go. You probably want to rest."
She started down the hallway, her footsteps echoing on the linoleum. You watched her go, and something unfamiliar twisted in your chest—something that felt almost like guilt.
"Sohyun."
She stopped. Turned.
"You're alive," you said. "That's what matters. Whatever happened before… you're alive, and he's in jail. Try to focus on that."
Her expression did something complicated—gratitude and grief and something else you couldn't name. Then she nodded once, sharp and decisive, and disappeared around the corner.
You unlocked your door and stepped into your apartment. It was dark. Empty. The same cramped studio you'd been living in for two years. But tonight, it felt different. Less like a refuge and more like a place where things could begin.
The weeks that followed were strange.
Jiheon kept her promise. Every class, she saved you a seat. She'd text you reminders about assignments and ask how your ribs were healing. She'd bring you coffee—black, one sugar, because she'd apparently noticed your order at the campus café and filed it away for future reference. The attention was disorienting, like stepping into sunlight after years in the dark.
"Society has this weird thing," she said one afternoon, picking at her salad in the cafeteria. "We love the idea of heroism, but we're always surprised when it actually happens. Like we expect people to be selfish by default."
You'd actually joined her for lunch. Voluntarily. In public. Progress.
"Most people are selfish," you pointed out.
"True." She stabbed a cherry tomato. "But you're not. And I think that's interesting."
"Interesting?"
"Yeah." She looked at you across the table, her gaze steady and unflinching. "You sat in the corner for two years. Never talked to anyone. Never drew attention to yourself. And then one day, you just… stepped into a situation that could've killed you. For a girl who'd been cruel to you. That's not normal behavior. That's the kind of thing that makes a person curious."
Your heart was beating faster than it should have been. "Curious about what?"
"About you." She smiled, and it was softer than her usual smiles—less performative, more private. "About who you actually are, under all that silence."
You didn't know how to respond to that. So you didn't. You just sat there, your salad forgotten, and let the warmth of her attention wash over you like a tide.
Sohyun didn't approach you again. Not directly.
But you started noticing things.
Your locker, which you never locked because you had nothing worth stealing, was suddenly always secure when you returned to it. The dent you'd been meaning to fix for months was gone. Your textbooks, which you'd been leaving in the library to avoid carrying extra weight on your ribs, were always exactly where you'd left them—but slightly neater. More organized.
Little things. Invisible things. Things you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't the kind of person who'd spent years tracking the smallest details of his environment.
She was there, too. Always at the edges of your vision. Across the cafeteria. At the far end of the library. On the path between your apartment and campus, walking a little too slowly, a little too deliberately. She never spoke to you. Never approached. Just… watched.
It should have been unsettling. Maybe if you'd been paying closer attention, it would have been. But Jiheon's smile had a way of narrowing your focus, and everything outside her orbit felt distant. Insignificant.
You mentioned it to Jiheon once, casually, when you spotted Sohyun lingering near the gymnasium at an hour when no classes were scheduled.
"She's probably just feeling guilty," Jiheon said, linking her arm through yours in a gesture that made your brain short-circuit. "Wants to make sure you're okay."
"Maybe."
But there was something in the way Sohyun stood—rigid, focused, her eyes tracking your every movement—that made the explanation feel incomplete.
It happened on a Friday night.
You'd been walking Jiheon back to her dorm after a late study session. The campus was quiet, the pathways lit by the orange glow of streetlamps. Her hand had found yours somewhere between the library and the science building, and you'd been holding it for twenty minutes now, your palm sweaty and your heart performing acrobatics in your chest.
"I had a good time tonight," Jiheon said, her voice soft in the darkness.
"Me too."
She stopped walking. Turned to face you. The lamplight caught her features, painting her in shades of gold and shadow, and you thought—not for the first time—that she was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
"I'm glad you're not invisible anymore," she said. "I'm glad I finally saw you."
Your throat tightened. "Jiheon—"
She kissed you.
It was gentle. Tentative. Barely more than a brush of lips against lips. But it sent electricity racing down your spine, and your free hand came up to cup her cheek, and she made a small sound against your mouth that you wanted to remember for the rest of your life.
When she pulled back, her eyes were bright with something that looked like joy.
"Tomorrow," she said. "Dinner?"
"Yeah." The word came out breathless. "Yeah. Dinner."
She smiled, squeezed your hand, and disappeared into her dorm. You stood there for a long moment, your lips tingling, your heart soaring, your ribs completely forgotten.
You didn't notice the shadow at the edge of the path. Didn't see the figure standing beneath the oak tree, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Didn't hear the sharp, ragged breath she took as she watched you walk away.
Park Sohyun had been following you for hours. She'd watched you study. Watched you laugh—actually laugh—at something Jiheon said. Watched your hands touch. Watched you kiss.
And something inside her, something that had been quietly warping in the dark spaces of her guilt and her debt, finally snapped.
She doesn't deserve him, Sohyun thought, her nails biting into her palms. She doesn't know him. She doesn't know what he's been through. She doesn't know the scars she's touching.
The morning light cut through your cheap blinds like a knife, and your skull answered with a dull, resentful throb. Not a hangover—you hadn't been drinking—just the accumulated exhaustion of healing bones and a brain that refused to stop replaying the previous night. Jiheon's lips. The citrus scent of her shampoo. The way she'd said tomorrow like it was a promise she actually intended to keep.
Dinner. You had a dinner date. With Lee Jiheon.
The thought got you upright despite your ribs' protests. Your reflection in the bathroom mirror was still a disaster—the stitches in your eyebrow had dissolved, but the bruising had faded into a sickly yellow-green that made you look like you'd lost a fight with a banana. The split lip had healed to a thin pink line. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to tame it into something resembling intentional dishevelment rather than bed-head chaos.
She kissed you anyway, you reminded yourself. The bruises didn't scare her off.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand. Jiheon's name on the screen sent a jolt through your chest that had nothing to do with your cracked ribs.
Jiheon: 7pm still good? There's this Italian place near Hongdae. Tiny. Quiet. You'll love it.
You: Perfect. Can't wait.
Jiheon: :) Wear something nice. But not too nice. I want to be the pretty one tonight.
You: Impossible. You're always the pretty one.
The typing indicator appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. Then a single heart emoji—small and red and somehow more terrifying than any threat Sungbin had thrown at you.
You stared at that heart for longer than you'd care to admit. A year ago, you'd been invisible. A week ago, you'd been a target. Now Lee Jiheon was sending you hearts and kissing you under streetlamps, and you had absolutely no framework for processing any of it.
Your reflection caught your eye again. Still you. Still the same face, same body, same quiet existence. But something behind your eyes had shifted—a crack in the wall you'd spent years building. Light was getting through.
Or maybe that was just the sunshine.
The campus was quiet for a Saturday morning. You'd come to the library to kill time before the evening, too restless to stay in your apartment and too self-conscious to risk running into Jiheon before the date. You wanted to savor the anticipation. Wanted to hold onto the butterflies in your stomach like a secret only you knew.
The psychology section was empty, as usual. You settled into your corner, pulled out your notes, and tried to focus on the chapter about attachment theory. The irony wasn't lost on you—reading about how early relationships shaped adult connections while your own early relationships had taught you that connections were landmines waiting to explode.
A shadow fell across your textbook.
"Hey."
Your pen stopped mid-sentence. That voice. You'd spent two years learning to dread it, and now it made something complicated twist in your gut—not fear anymore, but something adjacent to it. Something that felt like a warning.
Sohyun stood at the end of the bookshelf aisle, her arms crossed over her chest. She'd dressed down today—jeans, a loose sweater, minimal makeup. The sharp edges of her usual presentation had been sanded away into something almost approachable. Almost.
"Sohyun." You kept your voice neutral. "What are you doing here?"
"I need your help." She uncrossed her arms, letting them hang at her sides. The posture was strange on her—less confrontational, more uncertain. "There's this project for our ethics class. Partner assignment. Professor paired us up."
You frowned. "I'm not in your ethics class."
"You dropped it last semester." She said it like it was obvious. Like she'd memorized your schedule. "But you took it the semester before, right? You still have the notes. The readings. I just—" She exhaled, a sharp puff of air that ruffled her bangs. "I'm struggling. This material doesn't make sense to me, and the project's due next week. I thought maybe you could walk me through it."
The request was so mundane, so perfectly reasonable, that it took you a moment to recognize the red flags waving at the edges of your perception. Sohyun asking for help. Sohyun admitting she was struggling. Sohyun dressed like she wasn't trying to intimidate anyone.
"I don't know," you said slowly. "I've got plans tonight."
Her expression didn't flicker. "It might take a while. Could finish late. Maybe even after dark." She tilted her head, the gesture almost curious. "What kind of plans?"
"Dinner. With Jiheon."
The silence that followed was absolute. Sohyun's face remained perfectly still—so still that it circled back around to unsettling, a photograph rather than a person. Her dark eyes, usually sharp with amusement or cruelty, had gone flat. Empty. Like someone had pulled a curtain across whatever lived behind them.
Then she laughed.
It wasn't her usual laugh—not the short, sharp bark she used when she'd landed an insult, not the cruel giggle that accompanied your humiliation. This was something else entirely. A low chuckle that started in her chest and built until her shoulders were shaking with it, until she had to press a hand against the bookshelf to steady herself.
"Wow," she said, wiping at her eyes. "Wow. That's—" Another laugh, breathless. "That's adorable. Really. You and Jiheon. Dinner."
Your jaw tightened. "Is something funny?"
"No." She straightened up, and the laughter died as quickly as it had come. Her smile remained, but it didn't reach her eyes. "No, it's great. It's really great. You deserve someone like her. Someone sweet. Someone who noticed you existed all of five minutes ago."
The barb landed exactly where she'd aimed it. You felt your shoulders tense, the old instinct to retreat kicking in before you could stop it. But something else rose alongside it—a new instinct, one that had been growing since the night you'd stepped into that alley. The instinct to stand your ground.
"She's been kind to me," you said evenly. "That's more than most people have done."
Sohyun's smile flickered. "I'm trying to make up for that."
"I know. And I told you—I heard your apology. We don't need to keep doing this."
"But I want to." She stepped closer, and the air between you shifted. "I owe you a debt. Let me repay it. Just this once. Help me with the project, and we'll call it even. You never have to talk to me again."
She was close enough now that you could smell her perfume—the same floral, expensive scent that had always seemed so incongruous with her cruelty. It filled your lungs and made your head swim slightly, and you found yourself thinking about the alley again. Her hand pressed against your chest. Her voice breaking as she called the ambulance. The weight of her palm over your heart like she could keep it beating through sheer will.
"Fine," you heard yourself say. "But not today. Tomorrow. Afternoon."
"Tomorrow." She nodded slowly, her eyes still fixed on yours. "Okay. Tomorrow."
She turned to leave, then paused at the end of the aisle. "Enjoy your dinner," she said, without looking back. "I hope it's everything you've been dreaming of."
The words should have sounded genuine. Instead, they landed like a threat you couldn't quite decipher.
The restaurant was tucked between a vintage bookstore and a noodle shop, its facade so unassuming that you almost walked past it twice. Inside, the lighting was low and warm, candles flickering on every table, the air thick with the scent of garlic and fresh bread and something floral that might have been roses.
Jiheon was already there when you arrived, seated at a corner table with a glass of red wine in front of her. She'd worn a cream-colored blouse that made her skin glow, her dark hair falling loose around her shoulders instead of its usual ponytail. When she spotted you, her face broke into that sunrise smile—the one that made your chest ache in ways your ribs couldn't explain.
"You came," she said, as if there'd been any doubt.
"Of course I came." You slid into the seat across from her, suddenly hyperaware of your own outfit—dark jeans, a button-down shirt you'd ironed twice, shoes you'd bought specifically for this occasion and already regretted. "You look beautiful."
The compliment slipped out before you could overthink it. Her cheeks flushed pink, and she ducked her head slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Thank you. You look—" She gestured vaguely at you. "Less like you got hit by a truck. That's progress."
"I'll take it."
A waiter appeared, poured you water, handed you a menu. The wine list was extensive, and you ordered the same thing Jiheon was drinking because you didn't know enough about wine to make your own decision. She seemed to find this endearing rather than pathetic, which was either a good sign or proof that her standards were concerningly low.
"How are your ribs?" she asked, after you'd placed your orders.
"Healing. Slowly." You touched your side reflexively. "Doctor says another few weeks and I'll be back to normal. Or as normal as I ever was."
"That's good." She swirled her wine, watching the liquid cling to the glass. "I was really worried about you. After it happened. Everyone was talking about it, and I just kept thinking—" She paused, her brow furrowing. "I don't know. It's stupid."
"What?"
"That I should have noticed you sooner." She looked up, her dark eyes meeting yours. "Two years. We've been in the same classes for two years, and I never saw you. Not really. You were just… background. And then suddenly you were this person who'd done something incredible, and I realized I'd been walking past you every day without ever wondering who you were."
The candlelight danced across her features, painting shadows that shifted with every flicker. Your heart was beating too fast, your palms slightly damp against the tablecloth.
"Most people didn't notice me," you said. "I was kind of counting on it."
"Why?"
The question was simple, but it hit you like a punch to the chest. Why. Why had you made yourself invisible. Why had you built walls so high that even kindness couldn't scale them. Why had you decided, somewhere along the way, that safety was worth more than connection.
"I don't know," you admitted. "I guess I got tired of being disappointed. It was easier to stop expecting anything."
Jiheon reached across the table and laid her hand over yours. Her fingers were warm, her touch gentle, and your breath caught somewhere in your throat.
"Well," she said softly, "I'm sorry it took me so long to see you. But I see you now."
You didn't know how to respond to that. So you turned your hand over and laced your fingers through hers, and something in your chest cracked open just a little wider.
The food arrived—pasta for her, risotto for you—and the conversation drifted to safer shores. Classes and professors and the terrible coffee at the campus café. She told you about her psychology thesis, about her plans to become a therapist, about the summer she'd spent volunteering at a crisis hotline and the things she'd learned about human resilience. You told her about your own studies, your quiet ambitions, the part-time job at the library that paid almost nothing but gave you access to unlimited books.
It was easy. Effortless. Like a conversation you'd been rehearsing for years without realizing it.
Midway through the meal, her expression shifted. Something clouded her eyes—uncertainty, or maybe concern.
"Can I tell you something weird?" she asked, pushing a piece of pasta around her plate.
"Always."
"It's about Sohyun."
Your fork paused halfway to your mouth. "What about her?"
"I think something's wrong with her." Jiheon's voice dropped, as if she was worried about being overheard. "Like, more than usual. She's been acting strange ever since you got back from the hospital. Following you around. Staring at you. I caught her outside the library yesterday, just standing there, watching the entrance. When I asked her what she was doing, she said she was waiting for someone. But she was still there three hours later when I left."
The risotto had gone cold in your mouth. "She's probably just feeling guilty. She thinks she owes me something."
"Maybe." Jiheon didn't sound convinced. "But I've known Sohyun for years. We were in the same orientation group. She doesn't do guilt. She doesn't do apologies. The Sohyun I know would have pretended you didn't exist after you helped her, because acknowledging you would mean acknowledging that she needed help in the first place." She leaned forward, her voice dropping lower. "This new thing—following you, fixing your stuff, showing up everywhere you are—it's not guilt. It's something else. Something that makes me nervous."
The candle flickered. A chill traced its way down your spine, and you couldn't quite explain why.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying maybe you should stay away from her." Jiheon's grip on your hand tightened. "I know you're trying to be kind. That's who you are. But Sohyun doesn't operate like normal people. She gets fixated on things. On people. And when she fixates—" She shook her head. "It never ends well."
You opened your mouth to respond, to tell her she was being paranoid, to dismiss her concerns the way you'd been dismissing your own instincts for weeks—
Movement at the restaurant entrance caught your eye.
The door swung open, letting in a gust of evening air and a figure that made your stomach drop. She paused in the doorway, scanning the room like a predator surveying its territory, and when her gaze landed on your table, her lips curved into a smile that was all teeth.
Park Sohyun.
But not the Sohyun you knew.
She'd traded her usual casual attire for a dress—dark blue, form-fitting, the kind of dress that demanded attention and punished anyone who tried to look away. Her hair was styled in loose waves that framed her angular jaw. Her makeup was subtle but deliberate, accentuating the sharpness of her features, the darkness of her eyes. The floral perfume reached you from across the room, stronger now, almost overwhelming.
She looked like she'd stepped out of a magazine. She looked like a weapon.
"Holy shit," Jiheon breathed. "Is that—"
"Sohyun." The name tasted like ash in your mouth.
Sohyun spotted you almost immediately—of course she did, she'd probably known exactly where you were before she walked in—and began making her way toward your table. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor, each step precise and deliberate. Other diners turned to watch her pass. She didn't seem to notice them.
"Hey!" Her voice was bright, cheerful, completely at odds with the predatory gleam in her eyes. "What a coincidence! I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd grab dinner." She stopped beside your table, her gaze sliding from your face to Jiheon's with something that might have been amusement. "Mind if I join you?"
Jiheon's expression had frozen into something polite and brittle. "Actually, we're kind of in the middle of—"
"Great, thanks." Sohyun pulled out a chair and sat down before either of you could object. She flagged down a waiter, ordered a glass of the most expensive wine on the menu, and turned her attention back to you with the intensity of a spotlight. "You look nice tonight. Is that a new shirt?"
"Ironed it twice," you heard yourself say, because apparently your brain had decided honesty was the best defense mechanism.
Sohyun laughed—that strange, breathless laugh from the library. "Adorable. Really. Isn't he adorable, Jiheon?"
Jiheon's smile had become a rictus. "He's something."
The waiter brought Sohyun's wine. She took a long sip, her eyes never leaving your face, and you watched her throat move as she swallowed. Something about the gesture felt obscene. Deliberate.
"So what are we talking about?" Sohyun set her glass down with a soft clink. "School? Relationships? The violent ex-boyfriend who's currently rotting in jail?" She said it lightly, like she was discussing the weather. "Mine, by the way. Not yours. Though I guess he's yours too now, isn't he? In a way. You're the one who put him there."
The table went silent. Jiheon's hand had gone rigid beneath yours.
"Sohyun," you said carefully, "maybe this isn't the best—"
"No, you're right." She waved a dismissive hand. "We shouldn't talk about unpleasant things. This is a happy occasion. A date." She emphasized the word like it was a joke only she understood. "How's the food? Good? This place has excellent reviews. I've been wanting to try it for ages."
"It's fine," Jiheon said flatly. "We were actually about to leave."
"No, you weren't." Sohyun's smile didn't waver. "You've barely touched your pasta. And his risotto's still half-full." She turned to you, her expression softening into something that might have passed for genuine concern if you didn't know her better. "You should eat more. You're still healing. Your body needs the calories."
The dissonance was dizzying. The Sohyun sitting across from you was thoughtful, attentive, dressed like she cared about being seen. But beneath the surface, something else was moving—something cold and calculated that made the candlelight shimmer strangely in her eyes.
This wasn't guilt. Jiheon was right.
This was something else entirely.
The dinner dragged on for another hour. Sohyun dominated the conversation, steering it away from anything personal, away from anything that might connect you and Jiheon. She talked about classes and professors and campus gossip. She laughed at her own jokes. She ordered another glass of wine and then another, and somehow managed to refill your glass whenever it got low.
You didn't drink often. Couldn't, really—alcohol hit you fast and hard, blurring the edges of your perception, loosening the careful control you maintained over your thoughts. By the time dessert arrived, the world had gone soft at the corners. Jiheon's voice sounded distant. The candlelight had turned into a halo. Sohyun's smile had become impossible to read.
"I think we should go," Jiheon said, her tone clipped. She'd barely touched her second glass. Her eyes kept darting between you and Sohyun, worry etching lines around her mouth. "He's not feeling well."
"I'm fine," you mumbled, though you weren't. The room was tilting slightly to the left.
"He's fine," Sohyun agreed. "He's just relaxed. When's the last time you relaxed?" She directed this at you, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her folded hands. "You're always so tense. So careful. It must be exhausting."
"Exhausting," you echoed, because the word felt right.
"See?" Sohyun turned to Jiheon, her smile widening. "He's fine. You should stop worrying so much."
Jiheon stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "We're leaving. Come on." She reached for your arm, her grip firm and urgent. "I'll walk you home."
"No need." Sohyun rose too, smoother and more graceful, her dress catching the candlelight as she moved. "I live closer to him. I'll make sure he gets back safely."
"That's not—"
"Jiheon." Sohyun's voice had changed. The warmth drained out of it, replaced by something flat and cold that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. "Back off."
The two women faced each other across the table, and the restaurant seemed to hold its breath. Other diners had noticed the tension; you could see them pretending not to watch, their conversations faltering, their eyes sliding sideways.
"He's not your responsibility," Jiheon said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "He's not your anything. You bullied him for two years. You don't get to play protector now."
"He saved my life." Sohyun's smile had become something terrible. "That makes him mine. Whether he wants to be or not."
"Yours? He's not a—"
"I know what you're doing, by the way." Sohyun stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor with the finality of a judge's gavel. "The concerned girlfriend act. The gentle touches. The way you look at him like he's some wounded puppy you want to nurse back to health." Her voice dropped, intimate and cruel. "It's not real. None of it's real. You're riding the wave of his fifteen minutes of fame, and when the news cycle moves on, when people stop talking about the dramatic rescue and the violent ex-boyfriend, you'll get bored. You'll find something new to entertain you. Someone new to fix."
Jiheon's face went pale. "That's not—"
"Isn't it?" Sohyun tilted her head, studying her like a specimen under a microscope. "I've seen you, Jiheon. You collect broken things. You patch them up, feel good about yourself for a while, and then you move on. It's your pattern. Your thing. But he's not a thing. He's not some project for you to complete and then discard when you get tired of him."
"You don't know anything about me."
"I know you've never once looked at him before last week. I know you sat three rows behind him for two years and never learned his name. I know you only noticed him when other people started paying attention." Sohyun's voice had become almost gentle, which made it worse. "That's not love. That's convenience. And he deserves better than convenience."
The words hung in the air like smoke. Jiheon's lips parted, but no sound came out. Something in her expression crumbled—not agreement, exactly, but uncertainty. Doubt. The terrible possibility that Sohyun might be right.
"Jiheon." You tried to stand, but the room tilted dangerously. "She's just trying to get in your head. Don't listen to her."
But Jiheon was already reaching for her bag, her movements jerky and mechanical. "I should go." Her voice had gone hollow. "You're drunk. You don't need this. I'll—" She swallowed hard. "I'll call you tomorrow. When you're feeling better."
"Jiheon, wait—"
She didn't wait. She walked past Sohyun without looking at her, her steps quick and uneven, and pushed through the restaurant door into the darkening street. The bell above the door chimed once and then went silent.
You were alone with Sohyun.
"You didn't have to do that," you said, and your voice came out slurred and useless.
Sohyun turned to face you, and her expression was nothing you recognized. The cold cruelty was gone. The predatory gleam had softened into something almost tender, almost loving, and that was somehow more terrifying.
"Yes, I did," she said quietly. "She was going to hurt you. They always do. But I won't." She reached out and touched your cheek, her fingers cool against your flushed skin. "I'll never hurt you again. I promise."
The room spun. The candles blurred into streaks of light. Her perfume filled your lungs until you couldn't breathe anything else.
"Let's get you home," she murmured, slipping her arm through yours. "You've had a long night."
Sohyun's apartment was nothing like you'd imagined.
Not that you'd spent much time imagining it. But if you had, you would have pictured something sharp and modern—white walls, chrome fixtures, the kind of cold elegance that matched her public persona. Instead, her space was warm. Cozy. Books stacked on every available surface, a worn velvet couch draped in blankets, fairy lights strung across the ceiling. It looked like someone lived here. Someone who liked soft things.
She guided you to the couch and disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and two painkillers. You took them without protest, your head still swimming, your thoughts still tangled in the wreckage of the dinner.
"You should drink more water," she said, settling onto the couch beside you. "Alcohol dehydrates you."
"What are you doing?" The question came out rough. "Why are you acting like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like you care."
She was quiet for a moment. The fairy lights cast shifting shadows across her face, making her expression impossible to read.
"I do care," she said finally. "I know you don't believe me. I know I've given you every reason not to. But watching you almost die—watching someone almost kill you because of me—" Her voice caught. "It changed things. It changed me. I can't go back to who I was before. I don't want to."
"Sohyun—"
"You don't have to forgive me." She turned to face you, and her eyes were wet. Shimmering. "You don't have to like me. You don't have to do anything. But you saved my life, and that means my life belongs to you now. Whether you want it or not."
"That's not how it works."
"That's exactly how it works." She shifted closer, her dress rustling against the couch cushions. "I've been watching you. I know you think I'm creepy, I know Jiheon told you to stay away from me, and she's probably right. But I can't stop. I've tried. Every time I tell myself I'm going to leave you alone, I end up following you anyway. Learning your schedule. Your routes. The way you flinch when your ribs hurt but pretend you're fine."
Her hand came up to rest on your chest, over your heart, just like she'd done in the alley. The pressure was gentle but insistent.
"I made those scars," she whispered. "Not directly. But I put you in that situation. My choices. My ex-boyfriend. My mess. And you walked into it because you're the kind of person who can't let someone get hurt, even someone who made your life miserable." Her fingers curled into your shirt. "That's who you are. That's what I couldn't see before. I was so busy trying to tear you down that I didn't realize you were the strongest person I'd ever met."
The alcohol was still swirling through your system, making everything feel distant and dreamlike. Her face was very close now. Her perfume was everywhere.
"You're drunk," you managed. "We're both drunk."
"I'm not drunk." Her smile was sad and strange and knowing. "I stopped drinking after the first glass. You didn't notice. You were too busy looking at Jiheon."
Your head was spinning. Your ribs ached. Her hand was still on your chest, and you could feel your heartbeat pressing against her palm.
"What do you want from me?"
She didn't answer with words. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed you.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't tentative. It was hungry and desperate and tasted like wine and tears, and your body responded before your brain could catch up—your hands coming up to grip her shoulders, your mouth opening under hers, a sound escaping your throat that you didn't recognize.
She pulled back just far enough to look at you, her eyes dark and glittering in the fairy light. Her lips were slightly swollen. Her breathing had gone ragged.
"You," she breathed. "I want you. All of you. Every broken piece. Every scar. Every quiet thought you've never said out loud." She kissed the corner of your mouth. Your jaw. The hollow of your throat. "I want to know what it feels like to be the thing you protect. I want to earn it. I want to be worthy of it."
"This is crazy," you said, but your hands weren't pushing her away. "You're not thinking clearly."
"I've never thought more clearly in my life." Her fingers found the buttons of your shirt. "You belong to me now. You just don't know it yet."
"You said your life belonged to me."
"It does." The first button came undone. Then the second. "That's the beautiful part. We belong to each other." Her mouth traced the line of your collarbone. "Mine. Yours. It doesn't matter which. The point is—" The third button. The fourth. "—you're not alone anymore. You'll never be alone again."
Your shirt fell open, exposing the fading bruises on your ribs—yellow and green and still tender to the touch. Sohyun made a sound when she saw them, something between a gasp and a moan, and her fingers ghosted over the discolored skin with the reverence of a pilgrim touching a shrine.
"I did this," she murmured. "These are mine. Every one of them. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making them better."
"Sohyun—"
"Shh." She pressed a finger to your lips. "Don't think. Don't worry. Don't do anything. Just let me take care of you."
She stood up, and the fairy lights caught the fabric of her dress, making it shimmer like water. Her hands found the zipper at her back, and she pulled it down with a sound like a whisper.
The dress pooled at her feet.
Underneath, she was wearing black lace that left very little to the imagination. Her body was lean and sharp and beautiful—all the edges that her personality suggested, translated into physical form. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders. Her eyes never left your face.
"You're staring," she said, but she didn't sound displeased.
"You're—" The words stuck in your throat. "You're not what I expected."
"No one ever expects me." She stepped out of the dress and moved toward you, her bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. "That's the point."
She straddled your lap, and the warmth of her body seeped through your remaining clothes. Her arms looped around your neck. Her lips found your ear.
"I'm going to mark you," she breathed. "Right here." Her mouth pressed against the side of your neck, just below the jaw. "Where everyone can see. So Jiheon knows. So everyone knows. You're not invisible anymore. You're mine."
Her teeth grazed your skin, and then she bit down—not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to leave a mark. A bruise. A claim. The sensation shot through your body like electricity, and your hands found her hips without your permission, gripping hard enough to leave marks of your own.
Sohyun moaned against your neck. The sound was low and throaty and utterly unselfconscious, vibrating through your skin and into your bones.
"That's it," she whispered. "Hold onto me. Don't let go."
And then her mouth was on yours again, and her fingers were working at the button of your jeans, and the fairy lights blurred into a constellation of distant stars.
"I'm yours," she kept saying, the words falling from her lips like a prayer. "I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours."
Whether she was trying to convince you or herself, you couldn't tell.
Maybe it didn't matter anymore.
Her hips rocked against yours, a slow rhythm that made coherence impossible. Her nails traced patterns on your chest—over the bruises, over the stitches, over every mark that Sungbin had left and she had claimed. The fairy lights flickered. The room grew warmer. The world outside the windows ceased to exist.
"Say it," she breathed against your mouth. "Say you're mine."
Your head was full of wine and perfume and the impossible weight of her body on yours. Your thoughts had scattered like startled birds.
"I'm yours," you heard yourself say, and the words felt like a door closing. A lock clicking shut. A path chosen that could never be unchosen.
Sohyun laughed—that same breathless, broken laugh from the library—and kissed you so hard you forgot your own name.
The couch cushions shifted beneath you. Her weight pressed you deeper into the velvet. Her mouth mapped your skin like she was memorizing territory she intended to occupy permanently.
And somewhere in the distant, sober corner of your mind, a voice was screaming that this was wrong, that this was dangerous, that you'd traded one monster for another and this one knew exactly how to make you want to be devoured.
But you couldn't hear it anymore.
All you could hear was Sohyun's voice, repeating those three words like an incantation, like a curse, like the only truth that mattered in a world that had finally stopped pretending you didn't exist.
I'm yours.
I'm yours.
I'm yours.
Your eyes cracked open to the sensation of wet heat tracing a slow, deliberate path down your stomach. The fairy lights still twinkled overhead, their soft glow barely cutting through the gray pre-dawn light seeping through the curtains. Your head throbbed—not the sharp spike of last night's wine, but the hollow throb of exhaustion and dehydration and something else. Something deeper. Your shirt was gone. Your jeans were gone. The velvet couch had become your entire world, a tangled blanket around one ankle, and Sohyun—
Sohyun was kissing her way down your body like she was mapping territory she intended to occupy permanently.
Her lips pressed against the hollow of your hip. Her tongue traced the line of muscle that tensed involuntarily under her attention. Her dark hair spilled across your thighs like ink, and every place she touched felt branded. Claimed. Hot enough to leave marks.
"Mmm." The sound vibrated against your skin. "Finally awake."
You tried to push yourself up on your elbows, but the room tilted. "What time is it?"
"Early." She nipped at the sensitive skin just above your hip bone, and your breath snagged. "Sun's not up yet."
Her mouth slid lower. Your cock, already half-hard from the attention, twitched against her cheek. She turned her head, nuzzling the shaft like it was something precious. Something that belonged to her.
"Sohyun—"
"Shh." A puff of warm air against the base. "Don't talk. Just feel."
Her tongue darted out and licked a slow stripe from root to tip. The sensation was electric—sharp and wet and utterly focused. Your hips jerked. Your fists clenched in the velvet cushions.
She laughed, low and throaty. "Sensitive. Good."
Your mind was still swimming, still trying to piece together the fragments of last night. The dinner. Jiheon leaving. Sohyun's apartment. The dress, the lingerie, the biting, the relentless, possessive kisses. And then… nothing. A black gap where memories should have been. But your body felt strange—heavy, used, a deep ache in your groin that suggested you'd done more than sleep.
"How long have you been awake?" The question came out rougher than you intended.
Sohyun lifted her head, and your cock rested against the curve of her cheek, smearing a glistening trail across her skin. She looked up at you through her lashes, and the expression on her face made your stomach drop. It was hunger. Pure, undiluted hunger, the kind that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with possession.
"I haven't slept at all." She turned her head and pressed a kiss directly to the slick head, her lips parting just enough to taste. "I've been enjoying this fucking cock of yours."
Heat flooded your face. You could feel it spreading down your neck, across your chest, painting you in shades of embarrassment and something darker. Something that throbbed in sync with your pulse.
"Nine times," she murmured, her lips still brushing against your skin. "You've come nine times tonight. Did you know that?"
Your brain stuttered. "What?"
"Nine." She took you in her hand—her fingers wrapping around your shaft with the casual ownership of someone handling their favorite toy. "Once in me. Here." She tapped your lower stomach with her free hand, right over where her womb would be. "Then again about an hour later. Then again…" That breathless laugh, terrifyingly familiar. "Well. You get the idea."
The words weren't registering. They couldn't be real. "That's not—" You struggled to sit up, but her other hand pressed flat against your chest, pinning you to the couch with surprising strength. "That's not possible."
"Turns out you've got stamina when you're unconscious. Who knew?" Her thumb traced lazy circles around the head of your cock, smearing the bead of moisture that had gathered there. "The human body is amazing. The mind checks out, but the flesh keeps going. Keeps responding. Keeps filling me up with all this…" She squeezed gently, and your hips bucked. "Warm, thick cum."
"Inside you?" The question came out strangled. "You said—in you. In your—"
"My pussy. My cunt. My womb." She said it plainly, without embarrassment, without shame, her thumb still working that maddening rhythm. "Yes. Inside me. Nine separate loads. All that seed, just pooling in there, and you know what?" She released your cock and crawled up your body, her naked form sliding against yours until her face hovered inches above your own, her nipples brushing your chest. "I think my womb needs one more. Just one. To make sure it really works."
The word hit like a physical blow.
Works.
"Don't tell me." Your voice was barely a whisper. "You're trying to—"
"Get pregnant?" Sohyun's smile was beatific. Serene. Completely unhinged. "Obviously."
You shoved at her shoulders. "Sohyun, that's insane. That's—you can't just—"
She grabbed your wrists and slammed them back against the armrest above your head. The movement was startlingly violent—all the strength of someone who'd learned to fight back, to survive, channeled into keeping you exactly where she wanted you. Her thighs clamped around your hips, and you felt the wet heat of her cunt press against your straining cock.
"I can," she said, her voice dropping to something low and dangerous. "I am. Nine times, I told you. What's one more? What's the difference between nine and ten? At this point, it's probably already done. Probably already a tiny little heartbeat inside me right now."
Your chest heaved. "This is crazy."
"Crazy." She tested the word like she was tasting it. "Maybe. But I've been called worse. By you, actually. Remember?" She leaned down and pressed her lips to the bruise on your neck—the one she'd left last night, the one that marked you as hers. "I told you I'm going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. This is how I start."
"By forcing me to get you pregnant?"
"By giving you something no one else can." Her hips rolled against yours, and the slick head of your cock nudged against her entrance. "A family. A future. Someone who needs you. Someone who can't leave you." She kissed your jaw. Your cheek. The corner of your mouth. "I'll never leave you. Our baby will never leave you. You'll never be alone again, staring at some girl who doesn't know you exist. I know you. Every scar. Every bruise. I put some of them there, and I'm going to spend forever kissing them better."
Your mind screamed NO, but your cock throbbed at her words, betraying you as it had all night.
"Please," you tried, one last desperate plea. "Sohyun, stop. This isn't—"
"Your cock says otherwise." She reached between your bodies, positioned you at her entrance, and sank down in one slow, wet slide.
The sensation was overwhelming. She was tight—impossibly tight after all she claimed you'd done—and so wet that your cock slid in to the hilt without resistance. The evidence of your previous climaxes made the glide obscenely easy, and the sound it made—that slick, liquid squelch—filled the room like a confession.
"There." She braced her hands on your chest, her nails pressing into the fading bruises over your cracked ribs. "Now be quiet and let me finish."
She began to ride you. Slow at first, a rolling grind that seemed designed to press the head of your cock against her deepest parts. Then faster, her hips slapping against yours with a wet, rhythmic plap plap plap. Her tits bounced with each thrust. Her hair clung to her sweat-damp shoulders. Her eyes—those dark, glittering eyes—never left your face.
"That's it," she breathed. "Fill me up. Make it ten. Make it a baby."
You tried to push her off. Your hands found her hips, but instead of shoving her away, your fingers dug into her flesh, pulling her down harder. Your body had stopped listening to your brain. It was operating on some primal frequency, chasing the tight heat of her cunt, the way her walls clenched around you.
"See?" Sohyun moaned, picking up speed. "You want this. You want me. You want what I'm giving you."
"I don't—I don't—"
"The way your cock is twitching says you're lying." She leaned forward, her tongue tracing the shell of your ear. "Just let go. Give me number ten. Give me your baby, and I'll stop."
Your hips bucked up to meet her thrusts. The pleasure was building—that familiar, inescapable pressure coiling at the base of your spine. You hated her for it. You hated yourself for it. And still you couldn't stop.
Then your phone buzzed.
The sound cut through the haze like a blade. Your phone, somewhere on the floor, vibrating against hardwood. A text. Then another. Then it began to ring—a bright, cheerful melody that you recognized as Jiheon's custom ringtone.
"Don't," Sohyun warned, but you were already twisting beneath her, reaching toward the sound. Your fingers brushed carpet, then cold glass. You clutched the phone, thumb fumbling for the answer button, Jiheon's name glowing on the screen—
Sohyun ripped it from your hand.
"No." She threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a crack and skidded behind the bookshelf, still ringing, still buzzing with Jiheon's desperate attempt to reach you. "No. No. No."
She grabbed your wrists again, slammed them back down, and bore her weight onto you. Her hips never stopped moving. Never stopped grinding.
"Focus on me." Her voice was shaking—with anger, with desperation, with something that might have been fear. "She doesn't matter. She never mattered. I matter. This matters. What we're making right now."
"Sohyun—"
"Focus. On. Me."
She clenched around your cock deliberately, a brutal, rhythmic squeeze that ripped a groan from your throat. Her pace became furious, a punishing rhythm that made the couch creak and your bruised ribs scream. The phone kept ringing. Kept ringing. And then it stopped.
And Sohyun looked down at you, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, her cunt gripping you like a fist.
"Come inside me," she commanded. "Now. Give me everything. Give me our future."
Your body obeyed. The orgasm tore through you—violent, electric, utterly beyond your control. You felt your cock pulse inside her, thick ropes of cum pumping into her clutching heat, and she cried out in triumph, grinding down hard to take every drop. Her own climax hit a second later, her pussy fluttering and snapping around you, milking your cock with desperate, rhythmic contractions.
"Yes," she sobbed, collapsing onto your chest. "Yes. Yes. Yes. That's ten."
The room spun. The fairy lights blurred. Your breath came in ragged gasps.
And the phone began to ring again. But you wouldn't be able to pick it up.
Word count: 12.4K | Tags: Smut, Cunnilingus, Body Worship, Against the Window, Creampie, Titjob, Facials, Exhibitionism.
A catch-up with Ryujin, a few drinks, and a little bit of bribery open the door for Seungdae (OC) to spend the night with one of Korea's finest delicacies.
New readers, fear not, this is a good place to jump right into the story. I hope you stay, I hope you enjoy it, I hope you get to read the rest if you haven't. Without further ado...
If someone had told Seungdae that he would ever debate himself whether he should go to Shin Ryujin's apartment or rest, he would have considered them crazy. Of course, he wanted to go to her place, but almost 72 hours after the events in his girlfriend's new house, he was still exhausted.
"I can't fucking believe myself," he grunted, accepting a glass of orange juice from his girlfriend as he tried to focus on his work.
"You used to work out at least three days a week before this whole thing started. You've barely set foot in the gym since then," she chuckled. "You know I've never liked exercising that much either, but how come I am in better condition than you?"
"Jin, my Queen, I've also been helping you move stuff around from your old apartment to this place, remember?" He smirked teasingly. "Plus, you've had years of experience fucking for hours in a row with multiple people. It's only been three months for me." Three months since he first fucked Momo, three months since he signed a contract to serve idols sexually.
"Oh, so you want another orgy with Twice to get in shape?" She grinned, playing the offended rather obviously before giving him a peck on the cheek.
"No, no… I mean, it would be great, but that's not what I— I'm just physically tired. Maybe mentally as well." He pursed his lips, pointing to his laptop. "I don't even know."
"Well, Ryujin has been waiting to see you since last week. Tzuyu's in Japan for their concert, and I'll be on set the whole day. I say: finish your shift, eat, take a nap while Itzy performs, and go meet her." With a profound kiss and a reaffirming nod, she walked to the door, where her manager was already waiting for her.
Her suggestion was perfect, except for the accumulated chores in his own apartment. With no other option, he finished his hectic shift, loaded with all the missing work from the days off he had requested.
His apartment felt foreign. He had not slept there, much less alone, for over a week; one that felt like a month for him. Fighting Morpheus, he managed to do his laundry and clean a few more things that needed attention.
By the time he was done, Ryujin had already made it to her place and texted Seungdae to get there. As much as he needed to rest, after the little heart-to-heart they had on their last troublesome meeting, he wanted to check on her.
"Damn, dude, you look awful," she chuckled as soon as her door opened. Perhaps the truest version of Ryujin he had seen yet. Freshly showered, hair still damp, no makeup, just a big t-shirt covering her body, and, most importantly, no Light Fury around.
"You really know how to make anyone feel better." He shook his head while she welcomed him.
"Sorry, you look like a zombie," she giggled, showing him the slippers. "I hope you don't mind cats," she added, going to the living room. Three cats spread in their own corners. "Dallie, Bama, and Una."
"As long as they don't mind me, we should be good."
"Want a drink?"
He accepted, helping her carry a bottle of wine, some snacks, and two glasses to the living room. Even though he sat on one end of the couch, Ryujin sat right next to him, talking about her performance, and finished their first glass of wine. Naturally, he asked her about any improvement with Yeji.
"She's been a bit more open to suggestions. She's come here a bit more often to cuddle instead of me going to her place to fuck."
"But you're okay with that, right?"
"Oh, yeah. I don't think I can spend a week without her licking me, and it's the same for her," she giggled, running her tongue through her teeth. "It's strange, you know? I've always said yes to anything she asked…"
"I noticed," he grimaced, rolling his eyes.
"But now that I've started saying no to the stuff I don't want to do, she seems to pay more attention to me. She's tried harder to keep me happy and satisfied." She pursed her lips, nodding slightly.
"Who would have guessed that a woman with insane determination would like a challenge?" He giggled, drinking half his glass.
"It's not like I was her slave!"
"Might as well. And don't smile like that. I know the idea is tempting, but you've got to be firm when you tell her no or whatever."
"It's still hard! The moment she pouts, I just…" Ryujin bit her lower lip, tensing as she struggled to find the words.
"Lose it?" Seungdae smirked, thinking of how he still battled to say no to his girlfriend.
"Yes! But I know it's for the best, so I'm slowly getting there."
"Don't know, Ryu. I'll have to see it to believe it."
"Yeah? Why should I even listen to you?" She scoffed, finishing her second glass.
"Well, for starters, I'm older than you."
"Like that makes a difference. You haven't even asked Tzuyu or your 'non-girlfriend' to formalize," she grinned, pushing him with her elbow and getting her legs up on the couch. After a moment of confused silence from him, she giggled. "Jihyo unnie told me about that the day after we…"
"Got it. Just so you know, Jin and I are now a proper couple," he stated, drinking more wine before leaving his glass on the table.
"Not Tzuyu?"
"Jin and I go way, way back. It's different with Tzuyu. She asked me to wait until she was ready. We're enjoying the moment, you know?"
"This Jin must be amazing if you made her your girlfriend before Tzuyu unnie, huh?"
"She truly is." He relaxed, letting his arm rest on Ryujin's bare thigh.
"Come on," she elbowed him. "Show me a pic of her! I want to see whose your favorite pussy!"
"She's my favorite everything," he declared without thinking. "Well, Tzu's thighs… All of her body, really, is unbeatable. But you know what I mean."
"What makes Jin so special, then? Is it her curves?" Ryujin leaned onto him, drawing a woman in the air.
"I mean, she's not voluptuous…"
"I didn't think you'd focus only on that, considering how you look at me." She pressed her hands through her chest, allowing the loose fabric to outline her nipples. Then, she leaned back to stretch her legs, getting them close to his face to draw his attention.
He followed her right foot as it ran through her left shin. When he turned to face Ryujin, she had already taken her t-shirt off, revealing her modest boobs and small black panties outlining her cameltoe. "Ryu… Don't torture me like that."
"I'm just getting comfortable," she shrugged, standing to fill her glass of wine.
Time slowed down while he scanned her shoulders, the line of her column, and her slim waist, hypnotized by her hips and the crease of her buttcheeks.
"I trust you'll keep your part of the deal." She turned back, smirking devilishly and signaling him to drink.
'Hands away from her holes, dick out of her way,' Seungdae thought repeatedly, finishing the glass quickly and handing it back for her to fill it again.
"It wouldn't be fair to make you compare Jin to Tzuyu unnie." Ryujin stood up in front of him, laughing at his erection, growing as much as his frustration. "But you can compare her to me! Is she taller?" She asked playfully, placing her hand over her head.
He sighed, standing up and fixing his erection in his pants, not caring about her laugh. "I think you're barely taller than her," he replied, pulling Ryujin as close to his chest as possible.
She slapped his arm and made him cup her face with his hands, raising her eyebrows and pouting exaggeratedly.
"She's cuter than you, no doubt. But you've got way more stomach to do aegyo than her," they chuckled while she guided his hands to her small breasts. "She's got more tits than you, but that's not hard," he joked, pinching her nipples.
"Funny." She rolled her eyes and pushed him back on the couch before taking his hands to her waist.
"Your hips are wider," he let out, tensing his fingers as they slid under the hem of her panties, feeling alcohol clouding his mind.
"Take them off if you want, but you'll be the one suffering," she whispered with a cocky smirk. His digits rested over the fabric, but they kept pressing on her flesh. "Gosh, you're so easy to tease."
"This is not teasing. It's torture."
"One that you also enjoy," she scoffed, pushing him with her right foot on his chest, then wiggling her toes for him. "Are her feet prettier than mine?"
He took her ankle and her calf. "You really love people praising your feet, huh?" He scoffed, daring to kiss her sole.
"Yes," she admitted right away. "And you like them too, so no harm," she giggled, trying to take Seungdae's nose with her toes until she caught it. "Come on!" She whined dramatically while he grunted. "I'll show you something from Yeji unnie and me." Ryujin sat on his thigh, opposite to where his erection was, purposefully rubbing her pussy on him.
He felt her meaty lips pressing on his leg as her moist warmth passed through the fabric of his jeans. "You're a fucking headache… I got hours of you two," he replied, pretending to be angry, and pressing his hands against her waist.
"I can set you up with any of my friends!"
"I can have Jihyo unnie arrange that for me already."
"She'll think you're just another guy trying to fuck his way around us, and you know how protective she is of her precious maknae," Ryujin whispered, tapping his chest with both hands, watching him frown and look to the side.
"Can't say you're wrong."
"Then I can make that happen organically!"
"You won't stop teasing me until I tell you, right?" Seungdae tensed his thigh, trying to make her move, but she moaned instead. Clearly fake, but effective. "I fucking hate you."
"You can't hate me," she grinned widely, showing her whiskers.
"Might as well," he sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes. "Any of your friends?"
"IU sunbaenim is your girlfriend?" She exclaimed, standing up to see him whole after he explained that 'Jin' was a childhood nickname for Jieun and the most relevant intricacies of their relationship. "Nah, dude, that's bullshit."
He handed her his phone so she could see some pictures of them, including some with Jongsuk, proving his words and how functional their dynamic had become.
"Does Twice know?"
"We all spent last Wednesday together. Jieun and Tzuyu got along pretty well," he chuckled, happy to say that truth.
"Motherfucker. No wonder you said you'll be drained," she grimaced, digesting the news.
"One of me versus ten of them," he laughed at her reaction and how even her cats stared at Ryujin pour another full glass of wine for herself.
"Boo boo! Our precious server has too many pussies to fuck!" She drank it empty, shaking her head.
They kept drinking and teasing each other, but Ryujin promised to keep the secret. After finishing almost a full bottle of wine each, she chuckled at the sight of Seungdae, already asleep on her couch with Bama on his chest and Una curled in his arm.
He didn't wake up until the sun hit his eyes. Disoriented and feeling weight over his torso, he noticed that the couch he was on had turned into a bed. Then he realized Ryujin was sleeping on top of him.
'Thank god,' he sighed at the sight of her huge t-shirt over her, before hearing a not-so-subtle giggle. "Tell me nothing happened," he requested, tensing his whole body.
"You wish!" She chuckled, turning to face him. "I just unbuttoned your pants so you could be a bit more comfortable."
"Didn't occur to you that not having you on top would be better?"
"Bama and Una were already here, and after fixing the couch, it looked too cozy," she explained, lifting her torso just enough to see him at eye level.
"Ryu, I don't trust myself with you like… This!" Seungdae admitted, unable to keep his eyes from her perky tits, fully visible from the neck of her t-shirt.
"Luckily for us, I do!" She sat on his crotch, instantly jumping from it. "Was that your morning wood or conscious you?"
Despite the scare and having some of the events from the previous night tangled in his mind, his time with Ryujin helped him recover just enough to face another week of work.
Days went by, and he watched Twice's Lollapalooza performance live with Jieun and Jongsuk at her place, congratulating the girls together right after. Pleased with the expected praise from his friend about having fucked all nine of them, igniting a playful fire in their girlfriend, he felt thankful for his normal job. Even though it kept him on edge, since his team had stuck to working remotely, he could enjoy moments like that, and welcome Tzuyu back to Korea the following day.
"I really needed that," the maknae sighed, snuggling her face on his chest after enjoying a delicious dinner and a good massage from Seungdae.
"You deserve it after that performance and those flights," he chuckled.
"You do realize this is just beginning, right?" She voiced softly, pouting.
"You flying every other day?" He frowned, and she nodded slowly. "Yeah, very aware of that."
"Will you get tired of me because of it?"
He laughed at the question. "Tzu, my angel, that won't be a problem, trust me. I know how to deal with that."
She whined as his phone vibrated. "Please tell me if you feel tired, okay? Physically, mentally, emotionally… I'm also here for you."
"Do you want to study me like you did Nayeonie?" He laughed, pulling her in for a kiss.
"You'd make a very good subject of study," she smiled widely, giving him another peck.
"I'm up for that! As long as you state your bias for me on paper," he added, making her laugh. In a split second, he thanked the universe for having her in his life, then rolled his eyes at his vibrating phone. "What the fuck is going on?"
With Tzuyu giggling over him and no reason to hide his messages, he unlocked his phone to see the swarm of texts from Ryujin. Both their faces furrowed in confusion and worry.
"Go," Tzuyu said softly, kissing his cheek.
"We've barely had any time for us, and I'd really like to make the most of it before your vacation," he replied without thinking, watching her face turn serious. "Plus, I've got a feeling this is another trap like…" Seungdae sighed, pursing his lips.
"Even if it is, after she found out about Jieun unnie and you, it won't be like that time."
"I'd rather not find out. You just got here and—"
A profound kiss. Enough to silence him and bring him back to reality. "Baobei, I know you're thinking she might actually be in some sort of trouble." She smiled kindly at him, holding his cheek. "Just promise you'll be here when I wake up tomorrow. And Thursday," she added with a smirk.
He sighed, nodding, falling a little extra for her. "I promise… Thank you." He took a moment to calm the turmoil of thoughts and emotions going through him. "I'll leave my laptop here, alright?"
The maknae giggled, knowing that would guarantee his return in the morning.
"Wait, what did you call me?" Seungdae stopped at the door with a confused smile.
Tzuyu's eyes widened. "Baobei?" She asked quietly, pursing her lips but staring directly at him. He nodded. "Think of it as 'jagi' but in Mandarin," she said shyly. "Is it okay to call you that?"
Moved, he smiled and returned to kiss her. "More than okay," he reassured her. "I never asked. Is it okay if I call you 'my angel'?"
"Yes! I like it a lot," she giggled, biting her lip. "Now go!" She chuckled, kissing him again and gently pushing him.
Happy with how things were going with Tzuyu, but frustrated by the overall situation, he drove to the hotel Ryujin mentioned under the pretense that she didn't want to make a scene after getting hurt alone in her room in the middle of the night. As instructed, he entered the lobby, provided his name at reception, and was given a tag to enter the room.
"Ryu?" He asked loudly as soon as he closed the door behind him. "You've got to be kidding me," he sighed, perplexed at the elegant silhouette of a slim woman sitting on the bed, outlined by the city lights entering through the immense windows behind her.
"That's a very rude greeting coming from a server," she chuckled, turning the lamps on with a remote in her hand.
"Yeah, sorry. I was…" Starstruck by Karina's features revealed by the warm lights. Hair up in a bun, accentuating her long neck and her outfit: a tank top that did nothing to hide her heavy breasts, revealing her navel, and a pair of jeans that hugged her hips tightly. Despite her amazing figure, his eyes could not gravitate away from her face, framed by her bangs.
"Expecting to see poor Ryujinie hurt somewhere in the room?" She tried to control her laugh, making him conscious of his basic outfit. "To be honest, I was not expecting her to tell you she had broken her leg or something." She shook her head, hearing his phone buzzing. "You may want to check that," she said with a smirk.
RJ: I keep my promises. Treat her well and enjoy, dumbass!
"What exactly did she tell you?" He scoffed, pressing his temple.
"Whoa. No server protocol, no proper introduction. You're truly new to this thing, right?" She pursed her lips, curious about how unorthodox he already was compared to other servers.
He breathed deeply, extending his hand and accepting the change of plans. "Hwang Seungdae. Quite literally at your orders."
"Karina. But you already knew that." She shook his hand gladly.
Her skin was warm and incredibly soft, proper for one of the most desired women in the country. Still, he was taken from Tzuyu's bed to be there, and his face demanded an explanation.
"I guess you're not into Ryujin's pranks," she smiled, inviting him to sit next to her.
"Is this a prank?" He accepted her offer, noticing a backpack on the floor.
"Yeah, one where the whole hotel is under a big NDA," she giggled, then froze at his seriousness. "Not really. I mean, the whole staff has to sign NDAs to be hired, but when your almost-lesbian friend says she found a good server, you listen. Even more so when said server has a five out of five approval from Itzy and an astonishing nine out of nine from Twice." Karina nodded, pouting and opening her hands in the air.
One big hit to the brain after another. "Did you talk with anyone from Twice?" He asked, focused on the most pressing matter.
"Jihyo unnie," she smiled kindly. "I told her I had heard about you, and she confirmed the legend," Karina added, licking her lips, scanning him. "You know? Men are usually a bit more enthusiastic when they get a chance to have sex with me. Even more so when they'll get paid to do that."
"Oh, I am, it's just that I was—"
"Busy with your girlfriend?" She chuckled, taking him aback. "They didn't say anything else, and I honestly don't care to know more about you aside from what you can offer to me."
"Thank you?" Seungdae mouthed, getting into his role. "I am here to serve you, right? What do you want?" He smiled confidently.
"Cocky," she murmured. "Look, I haven't been with a man in quite some time, but I have hundreds of them…"
"Thousands," he raised his eyebrows.
"… at my disposal. Good for you to know!"
"Quite impossible to ignore. Just like you," he tilted his head, glancing at her boobs.
Karina smiled and rolled her eyes. "What makes you different than other servers? Other than your nine-inch cock."
"Eightish…"
"Humble, huh? I can get that and the big cock from other servers. Or toys if I want to avoid the trouble," she whispered at the end, leaning forward to tease him with her cleavage.
"Very true," he nodded, leaning closer to get a better look at all of her. "I'm good with my tongue," he acknowledged.
"I have Minjeongie for that," she smirked, letting her words sink in his mind.
"I'm good with my fingers," he added after a moment of silence.
"I got all of Aespa, plus Yeji and Ryujinie," Karina grinned, raising her eyebrow, an inch closer to him.
"That's playing dirty," he replied, leaning a bit more until he felt her breath on his lips.
"Whatever you're imagining, yes. It happened," she chuckled, staring into his eyes.
His mind ran a movie of Karina in Itzy's dungeon in just half a second. Overwhelmed with the idea, his mind plucked an old line from his memories. "I can give you the queen treatment…" he whispered, daring to gently caress her jawline before suddenly pushing her against the mattress, getting on top of her. "Or fuck you like a whore if that's what you need."
Karina pursed her lips in surprise and approval. "Tempting, but you'll need more than that," she teased him with her eyes, running the tip of her fingers through his torso.
He stared into her eyes in silence, prompting her curiosity. Then he leaned towards her lips, dodging them to reach her ear. "When was the last time you got fucked so good you actually dropped your mask?" He whispered, getting back to her mouth to kiss her, taking her gasp away from her lips.
She followed along, feeling his hand on her waist. "That was low," Jimin replied with a smirk in her natural deep voice, fisting the hem of his pants.
"Some time, then?" He joked, making her roll her eyes as he pulled her in for a kiss. The tongue technique, the tempo, the smooth way in which she unbuckled his belt as she let his hand move up to her ribs; everything was perfect.
"Show me what I'll be working with," Karina whispered, feeling his trimmed bush with her fingertips.
"As you wish," he replied, giving her another peck before standing tall, admiring the way her breasts sat on her chest while she rested on her elbows. He tried to play the professional server role by taking off his plain t-shirt with a single arm and letting his pants fall, revealing his semi-hard bulge as he stepped out of his jeans.
"It's not as threatening as they made it out to be," she giggled, stretching her leg to touch it with her toes, using the remote to close the curtains.
"Are you used to big cocks?" He smirked, letting her play with the hem of his trunks.
"Not really. But I've had my fair share of BBC," she whispered, letting his shaft spring free before taking it with her soles.
"Did Ryujin tell you anything else?" Seungdae shook his head, lusting over Karina's long legs, unable to ignore her black pedicure.
"Something about how easy it is to tease you," she scoffed, feeling him get fully hard on her feet.
"As much as I'd love you to continue, it is supposed to be me servicing you," he voiced, feeling her toes wiggle around his girth. "Unless you're actually into this."
"Force of habit," she admitted with a wide smile, standing up to hold his cock while she unbuttoned her jeans with one hand. "But you're right," she nodded.
"So," he grinned, pulling her blouse up, "what do you want?"
Her top came off, revealing a strapless bra that held on to dear life to keep her milkers covered. Rolling her eyes, Karina held her laugh, stepping out of her jeans, thinking of his question as his jaw fell. "Eat me," she whispered flirtily after a few seconds. "If you do it well, I may let you shove this thing inside of me," she winked at him, making his length bounce with her index finger.
Seungdae laughed at her unserious wink while she threw herself on the mattress, wiggling her way to the middle of the king-size bed, admiring the jiggle physics in her boobs. A bit dumbfounded, he took a deep breath and crawled his way to kiss her.
"Nuh-uh," she stopped him. "You already kissed me, and you passed. Down. No hands, understood?"
He nodded, turned on by her challenging eyes. "You know Jihyo tested me on all this before I signed my contract, right?" He voiced, kissing her clavicle and laughing when Karina firmly yanked his hair when he brushed her tit, taking him down to her flat stomach.
"I like to make my own judgment," she whispered in a flirty smile, focusing on the way he worshiped her.
"Leave the rest to me, then," he smirked, biting the hem of her panties, forcing one side down her hips, then the other, then biting the center.
Impressed, Karina cooperated, raising her hips and letting her feet caress his torso as he slid the fabric down her long legs. "Don't even think about keeping them," she said in her real tone, making him release her panties from his jaw and swiftly throwing them at her. "Thanks!" She smiled kindly, spreading her legs for him.
Heaven presented itself to Seungdae. Her beautiful legs framed her puffy cunt, adorned with a neatly trimmed bush. He leaned forward, trying to catch her smell, but it wasn't until he was almost kissing her petals that her musk hit him. Staring directly into her eyes, he kissed her inner thighs, noticing the subtle tension in her muscles, and paying full attention to her breathing as his lips got closer to her vulva.
"That feels nice," Jimin exhaled, letting her head rest on the pillows.
No reply from him. No more words from her. While she allowed herself to enjoy his lips, he focused on the task, closing his eyes until his mouth pressed against her meaty pussy.
The first profound lick released a soft coo from her lips, soon turning into soft moans that became affirmations of what he should continue doing; something he followed to the letter.
"Did Ryujinie tell you anything about me?" Karina wondered, bringing back her tension just when it was about to disappear.
"You mean?" He asked, hiding his frustration, but not missing one beat of his tongue swirling.
"You're… You're doing it a bit too well," she giggled, sinking on the bed, self-conscious about the little swaying of her hips.
Seungdae chuckled directly on her folds, licking all the way from her entrance to her clit before replying. "Only that your tits are really fun to play with," he shared before capturing her sensitive bean between his lips, sucking it tightly.
"Fuck," Karina let out, shaking her head. "Just keep doing that." She reached for his hair to hold him tightly.
Intrigued, he obeyed, savoring her as much as he could, and before he knew it, perfection. Her cute gasps, her contained breasts going up and down with each breath, her sweet moans, the rocking of her hips on his mouth, the gentle grip on his scalp, and even the little commands she gave him; everything was worthy of a painting.
Despite how much he enjoyed every bit of it, he did his best to give her more, letting her performance fuel his lust. Using his whole mouth, he devoured her cunt, making sure every crease of her tiny inner lips would get a proper lick, never missing the momentum he had with her clit, attacking it just enough to build her orgasm lick by lick until her controlled moans slowly turned into louder whimpers.
Jimin tried to resist, noticing her breathing grew troubled while she bit her lower lip and her small hand clenched tighter on his hair. He had the technique, and she enjoyed it, but the drive and the devotion to pleasure her was palpable. "Freaking Ryujin," she mumbled, shaking her head as she let go of the brakes. She tugged his hair with both hands, rubbing his face on her pussy. Slowly, she pulled his mouth to her clit and locked his face against it.
Seungdae understood and suctioned the upper part of her vulva, using only the tip of his tongue to give her that extra push to her climax. Her legs told him everything her muted voice could not. The more they trembled, the closer she was to her orgasm, and when the time came, her perfect thighs shut like a bear trap around his head.
Karina tried to push him away from her cunt, but he fought back, not bothered by pressure in his skull or the yanking of his hair. Without putting his hands on her, just as she requested, he latched onto her clit, deafened by her flesh, and fighting with her convulsions until there was no strength in her shaky legs.
"Head… I could've… Are you… That was…" Jimin panted with a wide smile, ogling his tongue while he cleaned his lips.
"Need a minute?" He smirked, walking on his knees towards the headboard to carry her in his lap, triggering smaller waves of shuddering through her body by the pressure of his arms around her.
"Don't l-laugh." She slapped him on his chest, allowing herself to be pampered by him as her hand fell, finding his rod.
"What's next, boss?" He smirked, brushing her waist.
"Oh, you're fucking me with this m-monster, that's for sure!" Karina tilted her head, feeling his length.
"Whenever you want," Seungdae patted her back. "Just remember you're not on a stage," he chuckled.
"What do you mean?" She asked, narrowing her eyes, trying to squeeze his girth.
"Just that there's no need to put on a whole show with the extra seductive movements, the extra sweet moans, and even the 'uncontrollable' orgasm," he mocked her, holding her closely.
"You may be the first man to eat my pussy and complain about me right after," she raised her eyebrows, approaching his face.
"Not a single soul would complain about it. I'm just saying there's no need to add all those theatrics," he said calmly as her grip loosened. "Remember, I'm here to please you and not the other way around. Even though I really enjoyed the performance."
Jimin buried her elbow in his stomach, but smirked at him. "The whole orgasm was real. I just look that good when I cum."
"Maybe. What about the back bending and the hands?" He imitated her, trying to make her laugh.
"I didn't want to break your neck, but you were glued to my cunt!" She scoffed with a smile, then rolled her eyes at his skeptical face. "It's not easy to drop the act, okay?" Her tongue poked her cheek, trying to control herself. "Do you know what it's like having to be flawless all the fucking time?"
"I've seen some of its consequences," he admitted, twisting his mouth. "But I know it's different for everybody in the industry. I can't imagine what it's been like for you."
Karina breathed deeply, lips fighting to keep the words in.
"Come on. You can vent with me." His reassuring smile pushed her a little further.
"You're going to learn why we don't talk about it, sir."
"I'm all ears."
"Remember you're the one who asked for it," she pointed at him, and he nodded.
Exhaling, she snuggled up on his chest to avoid his face. "It's exhausting." Her hands instantly became an extension of her voice, showing her anger as tension in her fingers. "Way before debuting, they drill the idea into your brain until you become aware of every possible reflection or every possible camera, just in case someone catches a bad angle of yours." She scoffed. "It's gotten to the point that no matter where I am, I can see myself from outside my body just to keep myself in check, because God forbid I look at someone the wrong way, and now the whole country thinks I'm a bitch! Do you know how hard it is to treat everyone kindly when your cramps are actively trying to kill you?"
Pause. Jimin turned to gaze at his calm face. Seungdae nodded gently. She continued.
"Then you debut, and of course, you offer yourself as the group's tribute to protect your members because that's what a leader does! So now you have to learn to be perfect while you're literally getting fucked by men you find utterly disgusting. They make you watch every possible angle of them using you until you've mastered how to be the perfect fuck toy for them," Karina sneered with anger, but a bit of pride. "If that were not enough, you become so obscenely good that even if your members offer themselves as tribute to give you some rest, your company still sends you with them unless your assets don't fit with their sick fetishes!"
She went quiet, realizing how tense her fingers were and how quickly she was breathing. Trying to collect herself, she faced him. "S-sorry. I didn't want to—"
"Don't be sorry," he held her tightly. "Wasn't tributing supposed to get the rest of the group out of the menu?"
She scoffed. "You would think so, but not all companies are JYPE. SM will only accept volunteers if it's convenient for them. And I was too convenient for them not to offer me to the investors."
Silence for a minute. Like every company, JYPE had its flaws, but at least they respected someone's sacrifice. 'Probably a legacy rule from JY Park himself,' he thought with Tzuyu, Jeongyeon, and Dahyun in his mind.
Jimin sighed deeply, decompressing and bringing Seungdae back to reality. "Enough reason to be self-conscious all the fucking time, isn't it?" She shook her head and lay on his chest again, reaching for his semi-hard cock to play with it, thrilled by how hot it felt in her hand. "I've made my peace with sex, if you're worried about it. I like it as much as everyone, but it's just easier for me to sleep with women," she stated with a smirk. "I really like to feel a good dick inside of me, though," she added in a very intentional seductive tone.
Seungdae held his chuckle. His mind went back and forth between what Karina just shared, the many times he had seen that pain in Jieun, and imagining what it might have been like for Tzuyu when she first tributed all those years back. Still, Jimin's voice hit all the right points in his brain to bring his erection back. "That's one way to change subjects."
"You asked for it, remember? But thank you." She paused to stare at his confused expression. "I didn't tell you anything I had not talked about before with my therapist, but I feel lighter now," she chuckled. "Unlike your cock," she smiled widely, softly slapping his member against her hand.
"I am here to serve," he replied out of words.
"Let me give you a treat for being so kind," Karina grinned, wiggling her way down to suck his shaft.
'Fuck me,' Seungdae thought, partially regretting his next action. "I'll gladly take that offer, but first," he held her by her jaw to make her sit on his lap, taking the chance to admire her heavy jugs, still fighting to be freed. "What does Yu Jimin want?" He pulled her in for a kiss that she reciprocated. While they hugged, he noticed that the more he pressed on her flesh, the deeper she inhaled, and the closer she pulled him to her own body. In a quick movement, he spun her against the mattress, keeping his right hand on her back.
"You may actually be worth Ryujin's money," Jimin purred, reaching for his dick.
"Is she the one paying for this?" Honest surprise.
"Money in your pocket and me in your arms. You must have made a really good impression on her."
"I'm as surprised as you are," he smirked, unhooking her bra and throwing it away with his left hand. "Fuck," he let out, amazed by the effect gravity had on her tits.
Jimin shrank for a moment, covering part of her face with her small hands, and stopping her breasts from spreading with her elbows.
"Guard's still up," Seungdae chuckled, kissing her again to bite her lips. "Don't tell me you're insecure about your boobs."
"I'm not! I know they look great!" She twisted her body but stayed close to his lips. "It's a little different when I'm not wearing a bra," she mumbled quickly, crossing her arms.
"Jimin, they're fantastic. I'm sure even Jihyo has told you that, and I think she knows a thing or two about big tits." He kept his smile while she nodded at his words, grimacing slightly. "What is it?"
"Men," she sighed, defeated, but finding his confused face endearing. "Mine are not like Jihyo unnie's. Hers always sit nicely no matter what she wears, and they keep their shape even when she's lying down. With or without milk, mine are…"
"Saggy?" Silence. Seungdae's mind focused so much on imagining how sweet her milk could taste that he spoke without thinking. He gulped audibly, knowing he had fucked up.
"Yes," she hissed. "I thought doing that would make them firmer, but even full, they were still… Saggy." She might as well have killed him with her eyes. "So I stopped with those damn hormones. Honestly, I don't know how Jihyo unnie still does it."
He lay on his side, next to her. While a part of him was thirsty for her, the rest of him was mad, wondering how the industry had managed to make a woman as gorgeous as Karina feel insecure about her incredible body. "Something about her mommy kink, I guess," he murmured.
"Does she really have a mommy kink?" Jimin sat suddenly, holding her laugh, showing her large, clear nipples hanging loosely, reaching the crook of her elbow.
"Is that what it takes for you to stop covering yourself?" He scoffed, triggering a real laugh from her as he admired the way her breasts became fuller at the lowest point. "You didn't hear that from me, alright?" He sat to meet her face, holding her cheek.
"Fine, fine." She kept on chuckling, letting him pull her for a kiss, guiding his hand to her bare boobs. "Do you really like them?" She asked weakly, making his fingers curl on her heavy knockers.
"Let me prove it to you," he smirked, lying her down, finally getting her nipples into his mouth.
Surprisingly for her, he remained completely quiet, enjoying the softness of her boobs and the way they moved between his fingers and his mouth. Unsure, Jimin tried to relax.
His initial licks on her left nub were adorable. It was clear he was used to firmer tits, and considering what she knew of his history, it made sense. However, he quickly found the best way to grab most of her boob one one hand, giving her a good breast massage while he sucked one of her nipples. Soon, he took Karina's milkers and squeezed them together, easily taking both nipples into his mouth, causing her to chuckle amidst her arousing humming.
"Told you there's no milk in them," she giggled, playing with the back of his hair.
"Doesn't make them any less addictive," he replied, latching onto her right nipple while his hands ran down her body.
Jimin could only focus on his touch. His firm hands held her body with such hunger, and yet, his skin caressed hers with incredible delicacy. It wasn't until his digits reached her hipbones that she realized the sway of her own hips. She caught the sound of his breathing, growing louder and giving her mind something to hold on to as she closed her eyes.
She released a satisfied giggle when their respiration synced right before his fingers brushed her folds. "Please," she moaned, holding his head and her free tit firmly in anticipation.
The following moan was loaded with relief. His digits entered her pussy, slowly spreading her walls. "Just like that," Karina whimpered at the waving of his fingers inside of her, slowly increasing their speed until they reached that of her own heart.
Even though she felt incredibly tight, her drenched petals allowed him to move smoothly inside her cunt and feel the texture of her walls. "I'd love to see these bouncing," he smiled at the way she guided his mouth to her left nipple. Subtle, but Seungdae heard a scoff coming from her, accompanied by a minute clenching of her pussy around his fingers. "You like the idea?"
She whined, clenching his hair as he circled her areola with his tongue. His digits went slightly deeper into her core, emphasizing the in-and-out motion while she fought her own judgment. "Yes," she sighed with a grin, pulling him up to kiss him. "Just fuck me already."
"How do you want it?" He chuckled against her lips, hands wandering freely over her body.
"You… You said something about… Fucking me so good… I'd drop my mask." Jimin stopped their kiss, holding his face firmly with both hands, aware that her whole face showed that desperate need. "I want that," she requested with a shy smile and a tint of fear in her eyes.
He slid his fingers out of her cunt and took them to his mouth, savoring her nectar, and bringing a wider smirk to her lips. "Remember, you can say no at any moment." He leaned for one more peck and jumped off the bed, opening the curtains in the room.
"What?" She exclaimed, watching herself reflected in the large windows, covering her body before he turned off the lights with the remote, throwing it back onto the bed. 'When did he…?' Her thoughts were interrupted by the lamp on the desk turning on, adding a warm light to the bedroom.
He offered his hand.
Fearful but intrigued, Jimin stepped down the bed and took it, letting him guide her to the windows.
"Just enough light for your body." He said, going to the lamp to make the light hit her right side, adding some sticky notes from the desk to soften the upper area.
She covered her body, but stayed there. "W-What if someone recognizes me?"
"You took precautions before coming here, right?" He waited a second, and she nodded. "If no one followed, no one would think of you if they even glance at the hotel. Plus, if you can't see your face from here, neither could they. The city is too busy," he reassured her, standing behind her and grabbing her jugs. "But some lucky guys may get to see this pair of majestic tits dangling as I fuck you," he whispered, kissing her neck while her eyes remained fixed on her own reflection.
He was right. She could still clearly see the streets. The lamp only provided a faint view of her body, right under her ribs. Anything above that was too poorly lit to produce a clear image.
"Too risky," she voiced before welcoming his fingers into her mouth, sucking them eagerly.
"Perhaps for the idol in you, too perfect for anyone to see her saggy tits hanging freely," he voiced, grabbing her heavy udder with one hand while covering his cock with her saliva before gently pushing her shoulders forward until her arms rested on the window. She gasped, instinctively raising her hips. "But I'm sure Yu Jimin would love the thrill and the praise," he scoffed, aligning the tip of his shaft against her drenched entrance, gaze freely at her firm ass and tight puckered hole.
Her heart pounded as she bit her lips and gulped audibly. "Take my phone and record it," she said quickly without moving. He hummed. "I-I'd like to see it later."
"As you wish," Seungdae whispered, caressing her buttcheeks.
While he went to the shelf next to the headboard to leave the phone recording, Jimin got lost in her own reflection, imagining her silhouette on the camera, then scanning what little she could recognize outside. Cars moving, people walking on the street, a man staring out from a window in another building.
She exhaled, feeling his glans brush against her wet folds, realizing she was still a bit sensitive from her previous orgasm. She breathed in, then out, and leaned more against the window, sending her hips back, taking his girth. "You're t-thick," she grunted, tensing her fingers and toes, slowly taking more of him into her pussy.
"And you're deliciously tight," he replied, gripping onto her hips firmly while her cunt adjusted around his shaft. For a moment, he focused solely on his manhood and the way her walls caressed his dick, enveloping it in her slick warmth until he felt a hard stop inside of her.
Jimin scoffed, shaking her head. "You'll have to fuck your way in," she suggested in a seductive tone.
He leaned forward, running his hand through her stomach and then to her left boob, feeling its whole weight, shape, and size. "You don't have to force this pretty pussy," he whispered, kissing her neck.
A confident chuckle. "I can take you whole, Hwang Seungdae." She turned a bit to kiss him, swaying her hips forward, then back, taking another half an inch of him. "Fuck me until you make me cum," she grinned, biting his lip. "That's an order," she added, releasing him and turning to the window to watch her reflection.
He complied, rocking his hips and feeling her cunt gripping onto his cock and enjoying the softness of her breasts, particularly her nipples, while he played with both of them.
This time, Jimin let her moans come out freely, flowing as her body demanded after every thrust until she chuckled at the sensation of his pubes brushing her outer lips. "Told you," she giggled proudly, clenching her pussy the moment he had his whole length inside of her.
What was meant to tease him worked, but it also backfired on her. His deep grunt, accompanied by a hard twitch on her nipples, pulling them down in a single motion, awakened her submissive side. Her moans turned into whimpers, and her arms slowly gave up any strength that kept her from resting her face on the cold glass. "F-Fuck me," she requested with a smile, watching her breath on the window, and arching her back.
Seungdae scoffed, giving a last firm and aggressive squeeze to her boobs before moving his hands down to her hips. Holding her firmly, he rammed her cunt, causing her udders to slam against the glass repeatedly.
"Mhmm!" Jimin whined, feeling the way Seungdae's manhood reshaped her insides while his fingers slid to her lower belly, pressing it firmly. Every inner sensation and the mental image became even clearer in an instant. "Just like that," she groaned, swaying her hips against him, melting beneath him.
A moment of doubt. She never groaned during sex with men. Even more so, her breathing was always controlled, and right there she was already breathing shakily, showing her teeth with half her face pressed against the window.
"Please don't stop," she begged, failing to grab his ass but digging her nails into him on her next attempt. "Please," Jimin implored, mind clouding in pleasure.
His left hand moved through her stomach, then between her bouncing milkers and up to her long neck, pressing it firmly, but leaving her throat free to whimper as her body needed. Lastly, his right hand went down to her folds.
"Y-Yes!" She shouted right when his middle and ring fingers rubbed her clit, making her torso press hard against the window, spreading her large breasts between her forearms while he practically carried her. The cold glass on her nipples made her realize she was on her tiptoes, desperately swaying her hips, adding the right amount of self-realization to surrender to her needs.
"Wouldn't it be lovely if someone saw you right now?" He whispered in Jimin's ear. She hummed, clenching her pussy. Slowly, he used his biceps to press her arms together. "I bet they would masturbate thinking of these precious tits, imagining how good they must feel in their hands."
"F-F-Fill me," she panted, moving her arms slowly to press her jugs, pressing the arm that choked her, trying to control her orgasm but ultimately failing. "F-Fuck," she muttered, feeling her climax crushing her.
Seungdae caught her, impressed by the sight, but never stopped. He ensured the camera could capture Jimin's eyes rolling back, her feet giving up, and her whole body shivering, trying to release the immense waves of pleasure hitting her from her core, turning them into muted cries. When her spasms became too strong, he renounced his own orgasm and held her tightly, protecting her from hitting her head against the window before walking back to the bed. His dick reaccommodated inside of her as he sat on the mattress at the same time her head fell back on his left shoulder. Smiling at the trail of juices she left on the carpet, he used his left hand to play with her tits while his fingers continued rubbing her clit until the climax died down.
Jimin, still trembling, turned to her right. "Bastard…" She sighed, not bothering to hide the wide grin engraved on her face.
"No more mask, huh?" He smirked while she shook her head and tried to elbow him, trying to reach his lips. He kissed her, enjoying the occasional clenching of her sensitive pussy and teasing her with little pinches on her nipples.
"You haven't come, have you?" She asked softly, realizing how wet her inner thighs were.
"Don't worry about—"
She kissed him again, slapping Seungdae's thigh. "I don't even know when you brought me to bed, but I remember very vividly asking you to fill me," she smirked.
"Don't you want to rest a bit?"
She chuckled, shaking her head. "Lie in the middle of the bed. Don't get out," Jimin requested, tightening her cunt and shuddering as a reaction.
He nodded, leaning a bit to grab her thighs and carry her in an almost fetal position. She giggled, wiggling her legs in the air while he got right where she asked her, even taking the pillows to have a comfortable view.
"Help me spin," Jimin chuckled with a playful smile, keeping her knees close to her chest and stretching her arm for him. Purposefully, she clenched her cunt to enjoy the curvature of his fully erect shaft as it moved inside her oversensitive pussy, loving the sensation until they were face to face again. "Don't hold it back, alright?" Karina smirked, straddling Seungdae and leaning back, supporting her weight with her right arm and caressing her tummy with her left hand. 'Minjeongie would go crazy with this,' she thought, rocking her lower body and pressing her womb.
The way she moved was no longer meant to be visually alluring, but rather pleasurable for herself; still, she could tell he enjoyed the view. She swayed her hips in small circles, using his pubes to stimulate her clit. Her moans were spontaneous and filled with little giggles. As she slowly increased her speed and rhythm, her udders dangled freely. Her face, however, remained perfect, maybe more so than before. Her half-opened eyes, occasionally rolling back every time his cock forced her womb to move. A smile lurked from her parted lips, trembling at times with her tongue picking out quickly, as if trying to catch something.
Even though her movements were clearly meant to please her and her only, the tightness of Karina's walls quickly sent him back to the path of his orgasm. Following her last command, he let go of his restraints, leaning forward to pull her for a fervent kiss she reciprocated, caressing her ass with his right hand and holding her against his chest with his left arm.
"Do it," she purred in his lips, reaching for his face with both hands, hips rocking harder and faster. She felt his breathing growing rougher as he finally started thrusting into her pussy. One quick clench of his cock, followed by another prolonged one. "Give it to me," she demanded in her most sultry voice, biting Seungdae's lip. "Fill my womb. I need it."
He hugged Jimin as tightly as her walls gripped onto his girth. Her sweet giggles, her sultry moans, her overall excitement, and her hungry kiss pushed him over the edge. And just like he fucked her throughout her orgasm, Jimin rode him through his.
"Yes!" She grunted, clenching her cunt at the first deep spurt of cum, hitting her depths, repeating the process to take every drop of semen out of his manhood, loving the warmth that flooded her core. "Thank you," she chuckled, tickling the back of his ears while he held on to her, panting and shaking at every conscious pulsation of her walls. "I don't remember the last time I enjoyed a creampie this much," she admitted.
"You… You didn't cum this time," he huffed.
"Uh-uh," she replied playfully, grinning before giving him a peck on the lips. "You already gave me two good orgasms, and I got to enjoy this heavy load fully conscious," she continued, taking his hand to her womb. "I am very satisfied," Jimin reassured him, clenching her pussy tightly just to hear him groan again.
"I can give you another one if—"
"Shut up!" She giggled, taking her right boob to his mouth. "Suck it while you recover. I still want to give you that treat," she hummed, enjoying his tongue circling her nipple as he held her left breast and she caressed his hair.
"I won't say no to that," Seungdae scoffed quickly, taking her other nipple into his mouth.
"You'd be an idiot if you did," Karina smirked, turning to the window. "Do you think anyone saw us here?" She pondered, referring to the bed.
"The lamp's behind you, and it's too dim to light your face for the people in the other buildings," he grinned, taking advantage of the range of her jugs to lick both nipples at the same time. "If anyone saw anything, I doubt they saw your face."
As he continued sucking her nubs, even after he was fully erect again, he saw her focused on the window. Having his cock still buried inside of her allowed him to feel every clench matching every subtle smile, purse, and bite of her lips. "We can go back there if you want."
Jimin fisted his hair, inhaling deeply and facing him, shaking her head. "You better have another load ready for m-me," she warned him while he sucked both her nipples with all his strength before releasing them.
"Whenever you want." He took her for a kiss, and she bit him before tightening her core to stand up. Seungdae leaned to see her cortch, happy to see that not a single drop of his cum leaked from her pussy.
"I'm keeping it as a souvenir," she joked, wiggling her butt proudly on the bed and jumping to the floor, laughing at the clap of her milkers on her stomach.
"Just tell me where you want it," he smirked, stepping out of bed and admiring her body as she walked backwards to the window, slowly turning to her right to face her phone, still recording.
"Here!"
"Ass and part of your tits for the audience," he pursed his lips, nodding. "Impressive."
"If I can't see them, they can't see my face," she smiled, turning a little more just to be sure. "Take it. I want to watch this as well," she pointed to her phone a bit shyly, kneeling.
"Is there a chance you can send me this?" He asked, framing her face on camera while he approached her.
"It depends on how well you aim at the end," she winked playfully, using the remnants of semen in his dick to stroke it with her small hands. "Let me have my fun first, then you'll have your treat," she grinned, licking his frenulum.
He agreed without a second thought, and indeed, it was her time to have fun, not his.
Karina took her time, playing with her grip on the base of Seungdae's manhood, pressing it right on his veins, making them pop as his whole rod grew thicker, acquiring a purple hue. She scoffed, impressed by its size and weight, measuring its length with her fists, proud to have had that monster inside her cunt. Then, she playfully slapped her face with it, getting down to his balls. "They're ready to shoot again," she cupped his scrotum, raising her eyebrows.
"I'm used to demanding women," he winked at her, charmed by the playfulness of her face.
"I'll keep it in mind for next time," she smiled brightly, sucking one testicle into her mouth, then the other, giggling at the way his eyes sparkled at the idea. "Now that's the way men usually react when they have a chance to fuck me."
"I'm way more relaxed now than before," he argued. "Same for you?"
She scoffed, twisting her jaw. "Riding you until you filled my pussy was not proof enough?"
"Oh, it was! I just wanted to hear it from you," he nodded, enjoying the little licks and kisses throughout his genitals. "Consider it my customer service survey or whatever you want to call it."
"No wonder Ryujin's grown fond of you," Jimin laughed. "Listen carefully," she grinned, holding his hilt firmly. Before he could even nod, she had already taken him into her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat, stroking him and sealing his shaft with her lips, hollowing her cheeks.
Seungdae got lost in Karina's big eyes, appearing even more prominent from his angle, and even more so with the way she blew him. Her technique was different than both his lovers, equally pleasurable. The way she sucked him, the way her hands moved, and the way her tongue swirled; not only did it look impressively dirty and erotic, but it felt incredible.
The sloppiness came next. Her spit flowed freely after she released his tip with a loud pop, quickly using her hands to spread her saliva through his length, only to impale her face with it the next second.
"God!" He grunted, feeling his glans pass into her tight pipe with a loud gag that spread through the room.
She took his hands and kept them firmly over his thighs. The show was on.
Karina blew him slowly, gurgling while she ensured he'd feel the way she took half an inch more of him every few bobs, letting a trail of drool fall to her dangling udders and almost ignoring her own body until a violent retching hit her.
"It feels great, but you don't—"
"I've taken your size in every hole before," she reassured him, slurping the thick thread of spit hanging from her lips and his tip. "I'm just out of practice," she smirked, slapping his slick manhood across her face before swallowing him again. She took a full inch more of him than before, bobbing her head and gargling quicker, touching her own neck to feel how deep into her neck he reached.
Her frustration was apparent, quickly decreasing her speed, but forcing herself to reach his pubes with her lips. Jimin shook her head and pushed herself back, which released a cascade of drool down her tits. "Jihyo unnie was right," she mumbled, quickly recovering her position and skimming out of the window. "I'll tell you when to stop."
She took his left hand to her neck, palm resting on her throat; then she took her phone from his right hand so he could grip her hair bun. 'Cute,' she thought, recording herself, watching his worried face, nodding at him before engulfing his dick in one quick movement.
Seungdae trembled, throwing his head back for a moment until Karina sank her nails into his thighs to fuck her face. 'So be it,' he thought, quickly taking control and thrusting into her face. The tightness, the gurgling, the way her neck expanded to his girth and length on his hand, and her majestic, determined eyes; a dream come true.
However, like some of the best dreams, it came to an abrupt end. Jimin tapped quickly and repeatedly on his thigh. He hesitated, but he pulled her away from his throbbing cock.
Tears ran down her cheeks, joining the drool that fell down her breasts, all the way down to her pussy.
They locked eyes. Two seconds of silence. Both laughed loudly.
"Sit on the bed," she said with a wide smile, standing up as if she were on stage: confidently, owning the place. "Close the curtains. You deserve to have this moment only for you," she added, handing him the phone, still recording.
He remained frozen for a second, scanning every part of her body: her black toenails, her long legs, her trimmed bush, her cute navel, her heavy boobs, covered in a thick layer of spit, and her wide smile, which brought him back to reality. "Yes," he said hurrily, taking the phone and reaching for the remote to close the curtains right away and adjust the lamps in the room to half their power. "No need to hide between us," he smiled, taking his place at the edge of the mattress.
Karina chuckled, biting her lips and kneeling between his legs. "Let me finish. For both of us," she whispered, taking her boobs up to his dick, enveloping it in her slippery flesh. She gawked at his glans, moving her breasts up and down on his length. Thirsting over it, she glanced at his eyes; he nodded, and she gladly took him into her mouth.
Eagerly, she used her whole torso, pressing and moving her tits up and down to pleasure him. She watched him grunt and melt on the bed as she licked his tip, feeding her own pride and boosting her performance even more. Her cheeks hollowed again, and Jimin made sure to enjoy every drop of salty precum directly from his slit.
Seungdae could not focus. Her breathing grew more profound and louder; her eyes stared directly into him, almost in the same way he looked at his partners to know how to please them next; her soft breasts framing his shaft were simply hypnotic; her fingers, maybe unconsciously, pinched and twisted her own nipples at the same rhythm she sucked him. The pleasure increased by the second, and the vacuum in her mouth was glory brought to earth.
Jimin's voice echoed in his mind. 'Don't hold it back, alright?' 'Give it to me.'
He locked eyes with her just as she was about to release his cock from her mouth. She smiled with her eyes and swallowed him, bobbing her head quicker and pressing her breasts tighter together.
Laughing quietly, he nodded at her and, save for the arm filming her, he relaxed completely. Her tits wrapped him up so kindly that he could cum just with that. Still, her tongue swirled mercilessly through every crease of his tip, applying just the right amount of pressure and friction through him. It was clear she could make him explode as soon as she could, but her goal was to make him cum as hard as humanly possible. With no self-restraint, he succumbed to the pleasure with a satisfied smile fixed on his face until he moaned. "Rina…"
"Uh-uh," she hummed back at him, edging him, grinning at his trembling hips.
"Jimin!"
In one swift movement, she let go of her udders and pushed herself to swallow his whole manhood to finish him. She reached for his free hand, guiding it to his dick while she pulled back, quickly holding her milkers so her nipples were as close to her gasping mouth as possible.
Instinctively, he stroked himself to nut on her face, shooting rope after thick rope of semen, coating her face from her lower eyelid to her chin and down to her clear nipples.
She remained still as he finished, giving him the chance to record a few angles of her while she savoured the spurts that landed on her tongue before staring at his eyes and swallowing his seed with a loud gulp. "Thank you for the facial," she purred, blowing a kiss before sucking his cum from her breasts.
"It suits you," Seungdae panted.
"Oh, I know," she replied, making a show of sucking her own tits, giving herself a playful bite on her nipple. "You should see me after a bukkake," Karina winked at him.
"Can I?" He asked, half serious. "You know? Following the idea of people seeing you like this…" He caught her full attention while he recovered. "I bet there's a part of you who'd love to walk outside just like this," he leaned forward, pointing at her naked body, but focusing on her painted face.
"That would be thrilling." Jimin raised her eyebrows, biting her lips flirtily.
"It would be very risky."
"A lot!" She confirmed, standing up.
"Shame you won't do it even though you want it," Seungdae sighed with a smirk.
"Is that a challenge?"
"Nah," he replied with a chuckle. "Unless you want to take it."
She inhaled deeply, then walked towards her clothes. "What do I win?" She asked dead serious.
"You've got everything, Yu Jimin. All I can offer you is my services."
"I don't do servers, Hwang Seungdae," she replied, catching a drop of cum dripping down her chin. He didn't reply; instead, he smirked and shrugged, observing the room and the bed he was on. "Next one's for free, whenever I call it," she sighed, pointing at him.
He nodded.
"Get dressed."
They did so quickly, but Karina put on only her jeans and blouse. No underwear. She asked him to record her again, quickly taking something into her pocket before slowly stepping into the hallways of the hotel. Her tension was palpable, but she kept walking, skimming back to see him until they reached the elevator.
"I can't believe it," she murmured to herself before facing the camera and showing her fresh facial rather proudly. She signaled him to stay there and walked to the opposite wall, quickly lowering her blouse to let her knockers hang freely for a couple of seconds before covering herself again.
"You're crazy," he whispered, shocked by her display.
"Let's take the stairs," Jimin replied, blushing through the pearled mask, guiding the way up.
She scanned the stairs. Everything was empty. Nervously, she lowered her blouse again, but this time, she walked playfully, half laughing at how silly she felt, half laughing at the way he had to re-focus the phone because he could only stare at her dangling breasts. One floor up, then two.
She inspected her surroundings again and unbuttoned her pants, lowering them enough for her bush to show on frame. "How do I look?" She smiled shyly, taking his hand to her heart, pounding so hard he felt it clearly.
"Like Dispatch's next big news," he scoffed, shaking his head, then quickly turning to cover her when they heard a door opening on the closest floor above them. Before he could do anything else, Karina was already walking downstairs, arms covering her already-clad rack, pants neatly buttoned, and her face covered with beige pieces of cloth serving as a facial mask.
He followed her quietly until they got back to her room, bursting into laughter as soon as the door locked.
"I didn't think you'd go that far!" Seungdae exclaimed, following her to the bathroom. "Where did those come from?" He chuckled, pointing to her face.
"I needed something to pretend I didn't have your cum all over my face!" Jimin chuckled, observing herself in the mirror, then smiling back at him. "Believable, right?" She asked nervously, needing the reassurance, and he happily provided it before she laughed loudly again.
"What now?" He shook his head, watching her turn around to show him the growing stain of semen in her crotch.
"You are taking me home now," she declared.
With no way to object, he followed along, watching her open the backpack on the floor, then put on an expensive wig and a cheap sweater that made her look like a grandma, partially aided by the facial mask. "Oldest and most effective trick of the book!" She joked, practicing the way she walked.
The late hour gave them a clear road back to her apartment while they praised each other for their performance and laughed again at their reaction on the stairs. Two blocks before arriving, she spoke honestly.
"Thank you for tonight. I really liked feeling a little… Adventurous. Although I'm not sure if I'd try that again," she said softly.
"The stairs or the window part?" He smirked at her, catching a glimpse of Karina's grin before turning his eyes back to the road.
"The stairs. The window is just a little safer," she giggled quietly before turning serious. "Sorry for ruining your night with your girlfriend, by the way."
"Ryujin is the one responsible for that. You… I'll wait for your call."
"Don't lose any sleep on that," she chuckled. "We're packed with concerts, comeback, more concerts…" Jimin sighed, defeated, but keeping a smile on her face. "Trust me, I'll call you again, and you'd better leave me as relaxed as I am now!" She bit her lips, hitting him on the shoulder.
"I'll do my best, don't worry about it," he winked at her. "Are you really going to walk out of the car with my cum still on your face?"
"What? They say it's good for the skin!"
Watching her go, he relaxed for a bit, taking the chance to message Ryujin.
SD: I gotta say, even though you made me get out of Tzuyu's bed, it was worth it. But next time, please let me know beforehand.
RJ: Fuck. Sorry, I was really hoping you were alone tonight.
SD: When am I ever alone at night nowadays?
SD: Wait, wtf are you doing awake at 2 am?
RJ: Too much to think, don't worry.
SD: You sure? I could go to your place for a few minutes. It's on my way back to Tzuyu's.
RJ: I'll be fine. Don't keep Tzuyu unnie waiting. Drive safe!
SD: Ok. But remember, I'm always up to talking with you!
RJ: And I'll take that offer! But I want to be alone tonight.
SD: Take care, alright?
RJ: You too.
With that done, he arrived back at Tzuyu's apartment building, thankful and still amazed that she had already given him his own set of keys. Just like Jieun, she reasoned that he could get into her place if she needed something or simply to arrive earlier to avoid drawing attention from any stalker, sasaeng, or paparazzi.
Her pets, Kaya and Butter, welcomed him quietly, waving their tails at him, but not making a sound, as if protecting Tzuyu's sleep. Carefully, Seungdae walked into her room, quietly changing to get into bed with her, trying his best to lie down at her side.
One last glance at his phone. Just three hours before his alarm rang. Feeling her presence at his right, he fell asleep in an instant.
Seungdae grunted when he woke up, confused and feeling a familiar slippery warmth on his glans. It took him a good moment to look down, finding a pair of feet going back and forth in the air, then a gorgeous pair of eyes smiling at him.
"Good morning," Tzuyu giggled playfully, quickly taking his dick back into her mouth, forcing a moan out of him.
"Morning," he replied, running his hands on his face. He could barely speak, but she saw his question right through.
She kissed his tip and used her own spit to stroke him. "You didn't move when my alarm rang, and you somehow turned yours off without opening your eyes," Tzuyu chuckled, rubbing his shaft across her face. She saw him trying his best to understand. "What would Jieun unnie think if you log in late to work under my watch?" She grinned, taking him back into her mouth.
"That… That makes sense… Damn!" He let out, mind clouded by his sleep and how good she made him feel.
"I was expecting it to taste like pussy," she smiled, cupping his glans with her hand, rubbing it in circles.
"We finished with a titjob," he scoffed, already lost in her face.
"From Ryujin?" Tzuyu asked, confused.
"Nah!" He giggled, enchanted by her cute reaction. "She wouldn't, even if he could. Karina," he explained.
"Huh?" Despite her surprise, she continued with the handjob.
He sighed, knowing he had no filters with Tzuyu. "Ryujin knows about Jin," he admitted, feeling her fingers tighten around his cock. "She mentioned Karina somewhere before or after that… It's all fuzzy in my head," he shook his head, trying to get some clarity on the events.
She scoffed. "It took me months to know that, and you told her in one night?" She pretended to be offended, but her tone let her playfulness poke through while she stroked his dick.
"I'd say a bottle of wine and some blackmailing… I'm trying to remember how it happened."
"Why don't you write it?" She suggested, quickly smiling at his confused expression. "You know how I write stuff when I don't really know how to say it?" Her dimple formed in her cheek as her eyes lit up. "Writing can also help your memory," she nodded, taking him back into her mouth.
"I could try that, I just don't know where to beg—"
Following Jieun's teachings, Tzuyu took all words out of him by engulfing his whole manhood, gagging only when his cock made it past her throat. She kept her lips at his base, causing him to hold the back of her head as a reflex.
"Holy fuck… Good learner," he grunted, staring into her smiley eyes while she proudly wiggled her meaty ass.
Next Chronicle 🦥 (TBD) →
Author's note:
So, it's been some time, but I ain't dead yet, quite the opposite! That said, I'm slightly busier this season, so instead of our usual two weeks between updates, we may go three weeks in between updates every now and then, but I won't abandon this until this arc is finished!
Also, since "TPTChr" or even "TPTC" don't quite look right to me, I'll be numbering these simply as "Chr. 1, 2, 3..."
tags: hate sex for chaewon, fluff for manchae, threesome
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If you'd known how things were going to end, maybe you would have thought twice before falling for Yunjin and Chaewon's manipulation that night in New York.
You were in the living room, sitting in your usual spot, with an iPad on which you checked schedules that apparently no one cared about anymore, your hair messy and your shirt wrinkled, thinking about how you'd lost control of everything thanks to the seeds of chaos you'd once planted and that were now weeds impossible to prune.
A year had passed since that night, and what started as a little game you thought wouldn't amount to much had mutated into the main source of your exhaustion, because the truth was that your authority had eroded to the frustrating point where none of the girls respected you like they used to.
Nah. They didn't even respect you, in general.
Much of it was solely your fault, and it was something you'd made peace with a long time ago. But the girls had been consciously pushing the boundaries ever since, knowing it was as simple as giving you pussy once in a while to get you off your butt. That way, they killed two birds with one stone: they satisfied their carnal needs, and kept you appeased.
At first, it was one-off things you didn't worry too much about, like staying out late without telling you or breaking minor rules of living together. However, when they realized you weren't making a big deal out of it, they started skipping practices, staying out all night without checking in, and seeing as many guys and girls as they pleased.
And all this while making you cover for them.
For God's sake, what the hell had all that become? It was a fucking circus, and you were the highest-paid clown in it. It had to end, and soon. Of that you were sure.
Unfortunately, your only problem was that you had no idea how to proceed. While it was true that your emotional bond with Chaewon—who was the best-behaved of all of them—was by far the strongest compared to the other girls, your relationship had soured thanks to your constant encounters with the others. If it had happened a year ago, you might have been able to address the situation with the levity it required, but now you felt like there was a sea of distance between you.
And all because of jealousy, bad decisions, and the audacity of four girls in their prime.
Laughter upstairs brought you out of your reverie. It couldn't be Chaewon, since you knew she was busy with her own things at that hour, and it couldn't be Kazuha, since she was out on one of her individual photoshoots. That left you with the Three Musketeers.
It wasn't your business to know what they were laughing about, and it never had been, since it was their personal space. But for some time now, you'd been suspicious of even the smallest thing. The laughter could only mean two things: either they were laughing at something innocent, or they were committing one of their misdeeds.
Experience told you it was the latter.
With a heavy breath, you put the iPad aside and stood up, heading for some stairs you hadn't climbed in days, maybe weeks. As you climbed them, you felt a strange discomfort run through your body, knowing you were entering a domain over which your jurisdiction was now null.
Upstairs, you looked around, noticing one of the doors was wide open: the bedroom Sakura and Yunjin shared. More laughter came from there. You walked cautiously, careful not to make your footsteps creak the wooden floor as you approached. A few feet away, you frowned as a smoky smell reached your nostrils. Like... burnt grass, but more intense.
When you peeked your head around the left side of the frame, your suspicions were confirmed and even exceeded.
Sakura and Yunjin were sitting on one of the two beds, dressed in loose clothing and with their hair down. Nothing out of the ordinary until you noticed that Yunjin was holding a lit joint between her index finger and thumb. She didn't notice you were watching, so you watched as she took a quick drag, held it, and then blew the smoke into the air.
They had a long history of inappropriate behavior, but this was completely new and more serious. At least for you. And you weren't going to tolerate it.
"Can you explain to me what the fuck you're doing?!" you asked, abruptly entering the room.
They both got a bit of a shock, but relaxed—yes, they fucking relaxed—when they saw it was you.
"Oh, calm down, manager-nim," Yunjin said, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. "It's just a friendly joint, it won't hurt anyone."
Maybe you were just too irascible and irritable, but that alone was enough to make your blood boil.
"Do you do this shit outside the house too?" You raised your voice and took a step forward. "Do you know that crap can ruin your fucking career? For the love of God!" You threw your hands in the air. "What the fuck are you thinking?"
"If you don't like it, leave," Kura said, shrugging. She took the joint from Yunjin's hand. "We're adults and we know exactly what we're doing."
"And I don't think you're the one to lecture us on morals, are you?" Yunjin asked with a giggle, tilting her head. "My throat still hurts from how well you fucked my face last night."
You snorted, feeling your frustration rising in your body.
"Maybe I'm not, but I'm still your fucking manager, and I've had enough." You walked over to them, grabbing Sakura by the wrist with one hand and taking the joint from her with the other. Then you turned around to walk to the door. "Next time I'll inform the company, see if that will get you in line."
Sakura and Yunjin laughed behind you. Did you tell a joke?
"Yeah, we'll just sit here and wait for you to do it," Kura mocked. "Take your time."
"Goodbye, manager-nim!" Yunjin said to you, still giggling, as you stood under the door, biting your tongue to avoid responding.
In the end, you left the room and slammed the door behind you.
The joint in your hand was still lit, and since you didn't have a stain-resistant surface nearby to put it out, you simply let it burn in a corner of the hallway floor.
As you turned around and started walking down the hall toward the stairs, one of the doors at the far end opened. You stopped as Eunchae emerged from her shared room with Zuha, wearing headphones, a cropped T-shirt that showed off a good portion of her belly, and tight shorts.
And she was carrying a can of beer.
"Oh, hello, manager-nim," Eunchae greeted with a nod of her chin after hanging the headphones around her neck. With a defiant look, she opened the can of beer in front of you.
You clenched your fists and teeth, closing your eyes to summon whatever patience you had left after dealing with the other two.
Since becoming an adult seven months ago, Eunchae had joined the others and started acting like a rebellious brat, and she was undoubtedly the biggest pain in the ass. Not because of what she did, but because, as the maknae, everyone jumped to her defense as if she couldn't even kill a fly.
"Hong Eunchae..." you began in a low but threatening voice. "You better have a good reason for having that damn beer in your hand. You know very well we don't drink here."
Eunchae walked toward you and stopped about a meter away, leaning her weight on one leg and crossing her arms.
"I'm 18 now. I think I can do whatever I please, right?"
"You can do it outside the house. But there are rules here."
"Rules?" Eunchae chuckled. "The same rules under which you fuck my unnies over and over again?"
You were silent for a moment. You had no defense against that.
"That has nothing to do with all of you being brats in constant disobedience," you opted to say.
"If we're in constant disobedience, it's because you haven't had the courage to stand up to us," Eunchae took a step forward. "Or am I wrong? Huh?"
At your silence, Eunchae brought the beer can to her lips and took a long sip. A bit of beer trickled down the sides of her chin and slid down her long neck. Then she looked at you again, closer this time.
"I just drank," she said defiantly. "Are you going to do something about it?"
Eunchae studied you for a moment, noticing your fists clenched in rage. You were about to say something, but she got there first.
"I thought so."
Then, leaving you fuming at her insolence, Eunchae turned on her heel and walked back to her room, her hips swaying.
Definitely, you'd had enough. Something had to change, and it had to change right now. Your mind immediately went to Chaewon. She was the leader, and also supposed to be the most mature, she had to take responsibility for the behavior of her members.
Feeling steam coming out of your ears, you walked to the other end of the hallway. The door to Chaewon's room was ajar, and with your best-contained anger, you entered.
Chaewon was sitting on her messy bed, knees pointed out and feet tucked under her thighs as she scribbled in a notebook. She was wearing short pajama shorts and a loose shirt that slipped off one shoulder, and she was listening to music on her AirPods. Her gaze shifted toward you when she noticed your presence, her expression stern.
"What's wrong?" she asked me with a coldness that made your heart sink, taking out her AirPods as you closed the door behind you with a firm click.
You stood near the door and crossed your arms, feeling the full pressure of being in a place you shouldn't be under normal circumstances weighing on your shoulders. You felt like an intruder, and that's probably what she thought.
"Chaewon, this has gone too far," you finally said, your voice calm and in contrast to how irritated you felt. "The damn house is in disarray. There's no more respect, no more order. Everyone does whatever the hell they want without fear of the consequences, and honestly, I'm fucking exhausted. Do you know what Eunchae was doing? She..."
You stopped saying what you were going to say when Chaewon put her notebook and mechanical pencil aside and got out of bed with a sudden movement.
"Same thing again?" she asked, her tone cutting, taking slow steps toward you until she stopped less than a meter away. "Do you realize the way you're talking?" She tilted her head. "I'm not your fucking babysitter! When are you going to get this through your head?"
You gritted your teeth, focused on not getting any more upset than you already were.
"No, you're not the fucking babysitter. You're the leader of the fucking group, and you don't seem to care that this shit's going down!"
Chaewon let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. She turned and walked over to the desk, where she began shuffling her sheet music, something she did when she was under severe stress. Her hands were shaking.
"And what about you?" Chaewon asked without looking at you. "How can you expect to blame me when this whole fucking mess is your fault?"
"My fault?" You pointed at yourself, walking over to her side. "I've been trying to keep them in line for a damn year, and you just let them do whatever the hell they want," you were inadvertently raising your voice. "You're not using the damn authority you're supposed to have! This is your responsibility too!"
Chaewon turned to face you, her face inches from yours.
"My responsibility?!" She raised her voice too. "I'm sick of taking the fall for your damn mistakes while you..." her voice cracked. "While you fuck the others like you don't care about what I feel!"
Bingo. That's the root of the whole damn situation. The worst part is that it was also your fault for letting her get involved not only sexually with you, but emotionally as well. You liked each other, a lot. But the nature of your working relationship complicated things a lot on your end. Of course, she didn't care, and she allowed herself to feel jealous of the others.
"Chaewon... ugh!" you huffed in frustration, bringing your hands to your face. When you lowered them, your eyes wandered down to her desk, where you noticed an envelope among the sheet music with what appeared to be the HYBE logo. "What's this?"
Chaewon looked where you were looking and tried to hide the envelope, but you were quicker and grabbed it. It was, indeed, an open envelope with the HYBE logo in one corner. She tried to take it from your hands, but you covered yourself and pulled out the folded paper inside.
"You've got to be kidding me..." you muttered.
The sheet contained a notice: an anonymous complaint about LESSERAFIM's behavior, mentioning rumors of parties in nightclubs, lack of discipline, and even dating scandals, with implications for legal action if these behaviors weren't corrected.
Every ounce of patience you'd been mustering evaporated in the heat of your boiling blood. That explained everything: both the girls' audacity at seeing their actions had no consequences and Chaewon's passivity in the matter. She was hiding it.
Betrayed by the leader of the group you were leading. It had gotten to that point.
"Kim Chaewon..." you slowly lowered the sheet of paper, your gaze fixed on the floor. "You knew about this and didn't do anything to fix it?"
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Chaewon tense, completely still on her feet. You could tell she hadn't planned for you to find out.
"It's not my problem..." she said hesitantly. "If they want to come, then let them. I'm tired."
You raised your gaze to face her, frowning.
"Then let them? What the fuck are you talking about?" You shook the sheet of paper in your hand and then threw it on the desk. "Don't you realize that your passivity makes you just as guilty as the rest of us?!"
"Guilty?!" Chaewon raised her voice, her face turning red. "Of course, because you can fuck the others like common whores in need of cock, and I have to smile and act like it's nothing!" She gave you a little shove. "You think it doesn't hurt me to see you with them? It makes me sick! Sick!"
"Chaewon-ah! It's not all about you!" you yelled, hands outstretched. "Don't you understand? You're being a fucking selfish bitch and letting everything get ruined over a fucking jealousy scene!
"I..."
"Grow up and talk things over with me instead of letting things get to this point!" Fuck!" You slammed the side of your fist against the desk and turned your back to take a few steps away, feeling your head start to hurt.
Chaewon, instead of closing the distance between you, took a slight step back.
"Do something, then," she said, her voice shaking.
You stood very still, thinking you'd heard her wrong.
"Excuse me, what?" you said, slowly turning around and closing the distance between you.
"Do something," Chaewon repeated louder. "Be a damn man, and do something. You're the highest authority in this house, right? Do something."
You stood in front of her, staring into her eyes as your breathing grew labored. Rage took hold of you and clouded your thinking, so you didn't measure your strength when you grabbed her by the arms and slammed her against the wall on one side of the bed, smashing your lips against hers.
Chaewon moaned and grabbed at your shirt, tugging at it and biting your lower lip as you kissed her furiously. You wrapped your arms around her body, and she wrapped her arms around your neck, one hand in your hair and the other across your shoulders. She fought for control of the kiss, making your teeth clash and your tongues swirl. In the end, it was your determination to prove your dominance that allowed you to subdue her.
You grabbed her by the thighs and lifted her into the air, spinning her onto the bed and throwing her face up against the mattress. Chaewon trapped your torso with her strong thighs, hands on your shoulders as you exchanged saliva and heavy breaths.
In a pure surge of desire and anger combined, you ripped off Chaewon's shirt with a sharp upward jerk. Chaewon gasped, her small breasts covered by a black bra that you wanted to rip to shreds.
"You're going to learn who's boss, you fucking whore," you growled. "Open your mouth."
"Make me, asshole," Chaewon barked back. "You're not gonna boss me around after months of being a pussy."
In response, you slapped her firmly across her left cheek, making her moan. Then you grabbed a handful of her short brown hair, pulled her head back, and bit her exposed neck. Chaewon dug her nails into your shoulders and let out another moan, letting you trail kisses and sucks down to her chest. You slid your hands under her back, and after removing her bra, you took one of her breasts into your mouth.
Chaewon's back arched as you swirled your tongue around each nipple and sucked on them like never before. After leaving each mound covered in saliva, you slowly lowered your mouth between them until you reached her tummy, pausing there for a moment before moving to her lower abdomen and, with your hands on her waist, yanked her shorts and panties down her legs.
With her now wet pussy exposed, you wasted no time parting Chaewon's legs, pushing her thighs back and planting your mouth there, giving her an upward lick before devouring her silky folds, addictive not only for their texture but for their taste.
"Oh god," Chaewon moaned after a few seconds, as you sucked and licked her clit. "Stop being such a fucking weakling and fuck me already."
"Shut the fuck up," you snapped, and slapped her pussy. She moaned. "You're not in charge. Get it through your fucking head."
Before Chaewon could protest further, you sucked on your middle and ring fingers and slowly guided them into her tight pussy. Chaewon reached out and gripped strands of your hair as you began pumping your wrist, simultaneously licking her clit in rapid motions.
Chaewon writhed on the bed, her moans getting louder as you went faster, your sole goal being to make her explode as quickly as possible. You succeeded after a few seconds, when Chaewon tensed her thighs and exploded against your mouth, stifling sweet squeals of pleasure that she muffled against the forearm she was biting.
"Cum again," you said, in a low but commanding voice, still pumping your fingers even though Chaewon was still squirming.
"B-But! I'm still-"
"I said cum again."
Chaewon grabbed your hair with both hands, pulling hard. Not even a minute passed before your commands sank in and she came for the second time in a row, her body seized by a series of spasms that made her crumple the sheets beneath her.
"Good girl," you said, standing up while her legs were still shaking. "That's the least obedience I expect from now on."
Still somewhat dazed from climaxing twice in such a short amount of time, Chaewon remained silent as you removed your clothes. When you were completely naked, you climbed onto the bed with her and, kneeling beside her face, took your hard cock in one hand and forced it into her mouth.
Chaewon didn't protest and closed her lips around your cock with a moan, propping herself up on one elbow to grasp your shaft at the base and pump her head with long, hard pumps. Her control didn't last long, however, as you pulled a handful of her hair into a ponytail and began fucking her face.
"That's it, slut, take it all," you groaned, rapidly pumping your hips.
This wasn't anything new between the two of you, so she was able to take almost all of your cock before her gag reflex kicked in. Still, saliva slowly seeped from the corners of her lips and dripped down her chin, and it only got worse when, after a moment, you buried the entire length of your cock inside her mouth, resting it against her throat.
"Choke on it, bitch," you gasped, tightening your fingers in her hair, feeling her throat caress your tip.
Chaewon gagged against your cock, saliva spilling from her mouth in thick drops that fell onto the sheets. Her nails dug into your buttocks, a signal to stop that you ignored at first. Only a few desperate slaps on your thigh finally made you give her a break, letting her cough and catch her breath.
"You fucking..."
You returned the words to her mouth with another sharp slap to her cheek. Chaewon groaned, looking up at you with eyes filled with pleasure and anger.
"I don't want to hear you, shut the fuck up," you said, going to kneel between her legs.
"Fuck you, motherf... mmmgh!" Chaewon squealed as you took your cock inside her in one swift motion. "God, why can't you just be mine?"
You placed your hands on her thighs and pressed them back, fucking her slowly at that angle you knew she loved. Funny, but yes: even mad as hell at her, you cared that she enjoyed it.
"Because I'm not interested in belonging to a selfish bitch," you said, jaw clenched, panting at how good the way her pussy squeezed your cock so deliciously always felt. You didn't really think that, but it was the first thing your anger put in line.
Chaewon grabbed her legs behind the knees, keeping them spread. She moaned as you went faster and pounded her against the bed.
"Those bitches don't deserve you!!" Chaewon protested amidst her moans.
"And do you?"
"At least I truly love you!" Chaewon squealed, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. "Why doesn't that matter to you?!"
You pressed both of Chaewon's thighs together and rested both of her heels on your right shoulder, then leaned forward and pushed her legs against her body with your hands flat on the mattress.
"Then why did you let all this happen?!" you yelled through a grunt, reaching deep into her pussy with each thrust. "You don't do that shit to someone you love!!"
"And you don't deliberately fuck that person's groupmates either!"
That was the last thing Chaewon screamed before cumming again, suffocating your cock with her tight walls. She shuddered beneath you and gripped your forearms, every muscle in her body contracting in an orgasm that wasn't half as strong as what you knew you could achieve in her.
"If that bothered you, you could talk to me, Kim Chaewon," you murmured, fucking her slowly. "Talking. You know what that is, right?" You slowly raised your voice. "Talking instead of putting the fucking executives on our fucking heels!! What the fuck were you thinking?! Ugh!"
You pulled out of her pussy and grabbed her forearm to force her to stand up off the bed, carry her to the desk, and bend her against it. Chaewon braced her hands on the surface, crumpling some sheet music and knocking a couple of pens out of their containers to the floor.
"I don't have to go around telling you what the fuck to do and what not!" Chaewon yelled back, a moan escaping her throat as you came back inside her. "You're a fucking adult and you know exactly what you're doing!"
"And that excuses you from being fucking negligent?" you asked, hands gripping her waist as you pounded her pussy again with fast, hard thrusts. "I understand that you're mad at me, but hiding something like that from me? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
"You had to wake up somehow, you fucking asshole! Mmmgh!" Chaewon squealed, slumping her upper torso against the desk, knocking more of her things over. "I hope it teaches you to think with your head and not your dick!"
You reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair. Chaewon moaned as you pulled it back, causing her to lift her chest slightly off the desk.
"So you're not even sorry?" you growled, your brow furrowed.
"I won't fucking be sorry until you are!" Chaewon snapped back. "And believe me, you have plenty of reasons to apologize!"
You wished your mind had come up with a response to that, but all you could muster was a resounding slap to her right buttock that reverberated throughout the room and made her scream. More like those landed, on each buttock. One after the other until her ass was tinted a bright red, making it look like a jelly cake that you jiggled with each violent thrust.
"Keep going, keep going, keep going!!" Chaewon squealed, her hands braced against the wall in front of her. "Keep going, daddy, please!"
Chaewon exploded within seconds, in an electrifying orgasm that still wasn't the strongest you could get out of her, so you lifted one of her knees and placed it on the edge of the desk to adjust the angle and continue fucking her through a climax that still didn't relax her body.
"Oh fuckkk!!" Chaewon slammed her hand on the table, resting her forehead on one of her notebooks. "That feels so good!"
You gritted your teeth, sweat dripping from your temples and onto your chest as you redoubled your efforts. You squeezed her left buttock with your hand, and with the other, you had her behind the neck, both grips tight and rough. The railing continued until Chaewon came again, and this time you smiled when her neck arched back and she screamed at the ceiling.
"My god!!" Chaewon growled, her pussy squeezing you as her whole body shook. "How can I hate you when you drive me so fucking crazy, son of a bitch!"
"I'm the one who should hate you for what you did," you gasped, sliding a hand from her ass to her waist and pulling out of her pussy.
"And yet, you don't," Chaewon turned to look at you over her shoulder, straightening her back slightly with her hands resting on the desk again. "I'm everything you've ever wanted, and that's why you love me."
"Then you understand how disappointing it is for me that you would hide something like that out of jealousy," you said, unclenching your jaw and calming your breathing. The anger was slowly dissipating. "I… didn't expect that from you, Chaewon,” you shook your head. “You're better than that."
Chaewon opened her mouth to say something, but only a stutter came out. Then her eyes glazed over, and she wrinkled her nose in an attempt not to cry. She was realizing.
"I-I..." Chaewon pouted and looked away, two tears falling down her cheeks. "God, I'm sorry."
That looked more like the Chaewon you knew, one who put her pride aside and was mature enough to know how to give in when necessary. But despite it all, it broke your heart to watch her cry. Always.
You sighed and tilted your head, watching her as she wiped away her tears to no avail, as she sobbed on and on. Chaewon then straightened her back, turned around, and snuggled up to your chest with both arms in front of her.
"I'm so sorry, I really am," Chaewon sobbed. "You don't deserve to go through this because of me."
You swallowed and wrapped your arms around her, holding her close. You stroked her back and hair to comfort her.
"I'm sorry too," you said quietly, staring into space. "For... acting without thinking about how you'd feel."
"What I did is much worse!" Chaewon whimpered. "I messed up, and now we're going to be in trouble!"
"Chaewon-ah, please breathe," you said, seeing that she couldn't find relief from her tears. "There's time to make things right. We just have to absorb the blow and improve. It won't be more than a scolding."
That seemed to calm her down a bit. Chaewon made an effort to regulate her breathing and hold back her sobs, after leaving your chest wet with her tears.
"You think so?" Chaewon looked up at you. "I really don't want this to end because of me. I've worked so hard in this group, and... and..."
You cupped her face and kissed her gently. Chaewon held onto your wrists, kissing back.
"We both made mistakes, okay?" you said, gently holding her face. "You've already apologized for yours, and I apologize for mine."
"Can you really accept my apology? What I did..." Chaewon looked to the side and slowly shook her head. "God, I'm really sorry."
"I can accept them as long as you commit to putting things in order. To really put things in order like the leader you are," you did a pause. "Can you accept mine?"
"I can accept them..." Chaewon now looked at you. "But you know what that entails."
"I... I think I know," you nodded.
"We have terms, then?"
"They're going to riot about it, and we will have to find a solution for them, but we have terms."
"Great," Chaewon sighed and rested her forehead against your chest. "I'm still mad at you, though."
"I know, I know," you said. "Can I do anything to remedy it, even just a little?"
Chaewon looked up at you, and slowly reached down to grab your cock and rub it.
"Fuck my ass," she said, her hand sliding down your cock, wet with her own fluids. "You've never done it, and I think this is a good time to."
You chuckled.
"Really? Right now?"
"Well... you're not doing it with Kura anymore," Chaewon scribbled on your chest with a finger from her other hand while giving you a lazy handjob. "So you better get used to doing it with me."
Damn it, you weren't going to fuck Kura's ass again. The thought was painful. The sacrifice was more than necessary, though.
"So be it, then," you said, and slid a hand behind her to squeeze her ass. "Turn around."
Chaewon obeyed and bent back against the desk, her fists resting on it. She pushed her round ass back, pressing the back of your cock between her buttocks. There was no lubricant on hand, so you'd have to settle for natural methods, using saliva and her own fluids to prepare her ass.
"Mmm, fuck," Chaewon moaned, straining as two of your fingers made their way inside her butthole. "Slow, slow."
"Haven't you done this before?" you asked, carefully stretching her insides. "Not even with toys?"
"Those three have put the wrong ideas in your head, honey," Chaewon sighed, your fingers now fully inside her. "Not all girls are sluts who like things up their asses."
"I had to ask," you shrugged. "Do you feel ready yet, sweetie?"
"I think so..."
You removed your fingers from inside her ass and grabbed your cock, pressing it against it. For her first time, her hole yielded quite easily to your length, slowly filling it. Chaewon dropped her chest onto the desk.
"Well, it's not as bad as I thought..." Chaewon murmured. "Wait stop!" she said, when you were only inches away from being completely inside her.
"Is that your limit, baby?" you asked, your hands on her waist. "You can relax, I won't push any further."
"Yeah, I'm sorry, darling," Chaewon sighed, looking at you over her shoulder. "I know Kura can take it all, but I..."
"Kim Chaewon," you grabbed her neck and pulled her closer so she was looking into your eyes. "Never, and I repeat, never. Compare yourself to other girls."
"But..."
"Never. You drive me fucking crazy, no matter what. I've told you that more than once, I’m pretty sure."
Chaewon remained silent, and looking into your eyes, she pushed her hips back and drove the rest of your cock into her ass with a small cry of pain. You took her hands and intertwined your fingers together.
"Hey!" You frowned, concerned by her pained face but also delighted by how good it felt. "Baby, you didn't have to do that..."
"Shut up," Chaewon reached behind her to cover your mouth, her eyes closed as she adjusted to having you inside her ass. "You shouldn't have said that: you forced me to prove how much you deserve the best of me."
Chaewon took your hand from her mouth and returned it to the desk.
"Are you sure it doesn't hurt?" you asked.
"Just move, asshole," Chaewon replied. "I'll get over it."
Somewhat hesitantly, you began to move slowly, your hands on her waist. Your cock slid in and out of her with some friction, lacking proper lubrication, but that didn't stop it from feeling simply delicious after just a few pumps. For Chaewon, it was a similar sensation: over time, her expression softened, slowly transforming to evoke the pleasure she felt.
"Is that better, darling?" you gasped, one hand slowly moving up her smooth, beautiful back to rest on one of her shoulders. Now your rhythm was steady, not too fast for fear of hurting her.
"Oh yeah, it's feeling like I thought it would," Chaewon replied. "You can move faster."
You did so, gradually picking up a steady rhythm until you were slamming your pelvis against her ass with each thrust. Chaewon's moans grew louder and louder, letting you know that ecstasy was taking over her and that she was beginning to enjoy every second of it.
"Do you like it, sweetheart?" you asked, gaping, your fingers clutching her shoulder and waist.
"Yes daddy," Chaewon nodded quickly, gripping the opposite edge of the desk. "I love it."
"Can I go faster?"
"I'm not in pain anymore... so use me however you wish."
Those magic words were like gunpowder to the flames, allowing you to slip out of your restraints and give her a good pounding against the desk. All Chaewon did was moan, squirm, and throw even more things off the desk, including HYBE's letter. The room erupted into a perfect cacophony of flesh against flesh and moans.
Interrupted by the sound of the door opening to your left.
You and Chaewon quickly turned your heads and turned your backs to hide your private parts, seeing Eunchae standing under the door, her eyes wide open, fascinated by the scene before her.
"Hong Eunchae!!" Chaewon squealed, frowning, her face flushed. "What did I tell you about knocking on the damn door?! Get lost!!"
"No... this is entertaining," Eunchae said, looking down—probably at your ass—with the door still wide open behind her.
"God, I said get out!" Chaewon yelled, grabbing a pencil to throw at her. She missed badly. "And close the damn door already!"
You grabbed Chaewon's wrist and leaned close to her ear.
"Let her stay," you muttered, glancing at Eunchae out of the corner of your eye.
Chaewon glared at you like you'd gone crazy.
"Huh?! Didn't you learn anything from our argument?"
"This is our chance to start weeding," you said even more quietly so Eunchae wouldn't hear. "Trust me. I have a plan."
Chaewon stared at Eunchae for a moment, rolled her eyes with a snort, and stared at the ceiling.
"Okay, Eunchae," she said loudly. "You can stay. But for God's sake, come in and close the damn door!"
Eunchae hurried into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. You then carried Chaewon to the bed, putting her on her hands and knees as she faced Eunchae, whose eyes lit up at the sight of your naked bodies.
"Should I just... stay around here?" Eunchae asked nervously, pressing herself against the wall next to the door with her hands behind her back.
"If that's what you want," you shrugged, and as you looked down at Chaewon, you thrust back into her ass with a single gentle thrust.
Chaewon moaned, her ass raised from you and her back arched. You left your hands on her buttocks and went back to fucking her with the same intensity as a moment ago, only now looking at Eunchae as you did so.
Eunchae watched intently, leaning against the wall, her breathing quickening as she brought a hand to her crotch to touch herself over her shorts.
"Enjoying this, huh?" you asked between gasps, watching her rub circles on her slit.
"You two look... so hot, yeah," Eunchae nodded, biting her lower lip as Chaewon whimpered in pleasure, seconds before experiencing her first anal orgasm.
You gripped Chaewon's waist with both hands, thrusting slowly and deeply as she moaned and writhed, crumpling the sheets beneath her hands. Her ass suffocated your cock at one point, forcing you to stop and enjoy the sensation.
When Chaewon's orgasm passed, you grabbed her shoulders and straightened her back to press her against your chest. She turned her face, kissing you as she met your lips. You wrapped your arms around her, one hand playing with one of her nipples and the other between her thighs, rubbing circles on her clit. Then you pulled your cock out of her ass and quickly slid it back inside her tight, warm pussy. Chaewon moaned against your lips, placing her hands over yours, and fell forward again as you began pounding her pussy with fierce thrusts that made her shake like a rag doll.
In front of you, Eunchae had one hand inside her shorts and panties, fingering herself faster. She let out small, almost inaudible moans.
"Look at that, baby," you told Chaewon, and you slapped her ass so she arched and looked at Eunchae. "The brat is horny."
"Manager-nim... you move so well," Eunchae said with a small sigh, her cheeks flushed, moving her wrist faster inside her shorts. "When are you going to...?"
Perhaps sensing what her question was going to be, your body tingled to let you know you were close to cumming. So, grabbing Chaewon by the arms to keep her back straight, you pumped up your energy to give her a few last wild thrusts before erupting inside her pussy.
"Mmmgh fuck!" you groaned, balls deep inside her as you filled every corner of her pussy with slow pumps.
"Fuck..." Eunchae moaned. "Is he...?"
"Cumming inside me, yeah," Chaewon nodded, looking into your eyes with her mouth agape. "And he's cumming a lot."
Your head was spinning at that moment, overwhelmed by pleasure. Chaewon fell chest first onto the bed as you released her arms, now giving her buttocks a hard squeeze. Her grippy pussy was also throbbing around you, and you looked down before pulling out of her and watching your cum spill out of it.
Chaewon slid an arm underneath herself and with her fingers scooped a good amount of cum from between her folds.
"Baby," Chaewon looked at Eunchae. "Could you pass me a wet wipe?" She pointed to her nightstand, and as Eunchae watched, she brought her fingers to her mouth to eat your cum.
"Y-yeah, sure," Eunchae nodded, practically trotting over to the nightstand to grab the pack of wet wipes and hand them to Chaewon, her gaze fixed on your fluid-soaked cock.
While you sat down to rest and catch your breath, Chaewon took a brief moment to clean herself up. A minute later, Chaewon tossed the two wet towels she'd used, crumpled into her trash can and looked at Eunchae.
"So? What are you waiting for?" Chaewon asked. "Come here, cutie."
Eunchae kicked off her slippers and climbed onto the bed, kneeling beside you. Chaewon knelt in front of her and, taking her by the shoulders, led her into a gentle kiss that slowly turned passionate. Eunchae was visibly nervous, but Chaewon was sweet to her the whole time until she warmed up and was able to relax.
Chaewon grabbed Eunchae's crop top and slowly pulled it over her head, revealing the pastel pink bra underneath.
"Can I take that off too?" Chaewon asked, her hands behind Eunchae's back.
Eunchae nodded, and Chaewon unclasped her bra so it fell onto the mattress. Eunchae's tits were even smaller than Zuha's, but they looked soft, and her nipples were small and pretty. Chaewon brought one to her mouth, making Eunchae moan and grab the sides of her head.
"Unnie, touch me down there too..." Eunchae moaned, twirling strands of Chaewon's hair around her fingers.
"Hm?" Chaewon looked up with a nipple in her mouth. "Like, here?"
Chaewon slipped her hand inside Eunchae's shorts and panties, and you watched as she reached her pussy, making Eunchae roll her eyes as she circled her slit with her fingers.
"Oh yeah, just like that," Eunchae sighed, as Chaewon continued sucking and licking her small tits. "You can undress me too."
"I'm a little busy," Chaewon replied, kissing between her breasts. "Manager-nim, will you help me?"
You looked at Eunchae silently, and only when she nodded in approval did you knelt up to go behind her and pull both her shorts and panties down to her knees. Eunchae gasped, feeling your cock brush against one of her buttocks. Chaewon, for her part, arched her back and lowered her kisses to Eunchae's tummy..
"Just relax, princess," Chaewon said, looking into her eyes. "We're going to make you feel good."
Eunchae reached behind her to cup the back of your head, while Chaewon inserted two saliva-stained fingers into her pussy. She let out a moan, and you noticed a slight tug on your hair from her, a signal you took as a green light to bury your face in her long neck and shower it with kisses.
"Can I touch you, sweetheart?" you asked in Eunchae's ear.
"I can literally feel your cock against my ass, manager-nim," she replied, turning her head to look into your eyes. "I don't even know why you're asking."
Then Eunchae subtly joined her lips with yours, in a tender kiss you hadn't expected from her, considering the way she'd been behaving all these days. You placed both hands on her small waist, then moved them to different places: the left one to her tits, playing with one of her nipples between your fingers, and the right one between her legs to rub her clitoris.
Chaewon began slowly pumping her fingers in and out of Eunchae, who moaned against your lips at the double stimulus that made her squirm her hips and buck slightly. Soon, Eunchae's breathing became heavier as Chaewon fingered her faster and you rubbed faster, pushing her hips back to crush the back of your cock between her nude, soft buttocks.
"Does that feel good?" you softly said against her lips.
"So, so good," Eunchae moaned, her eyebrows raised and her mouth gaping. "I think... I think I'm gonna... Oh lord!"
Eunchae tightened her fingers in your hair as she came with a soft moan, her body trembling against yours. You moved your fingers slower, and Chaewon pulled her fingers out of her to go down a little further and lick her pussy with gentle licks.
"I want you to... eat me," Eunchae managed to say in the midst of her climax. "Can you?"
"I'll take care of it," you replied, taking her hand and leading her to lie down on one of the pillows.
Eunchae made herself comfortable with a pillow under her head, right in the center of the bed. You got on top of her, and after a small, warm kiss on her lips, you slowly moved down her upper torso, stopping at her tummy to lick and kiss it. Then you went a little lower, now between her thighs, pressing them back and bringing your mouth to her pussy.
"Oh my... so good," Eunchae sighed, arching her back and grabbing your hair.
Chaewon joined you and lay down next to Eunchae to kiss her lips. Then she moved down her neck, stopping at her tits and sucking on them again, one hand coming down to join you as you ate her pussy with slow licks, soft kisses, and gentle squeezes of her thigh.
Eunchae's moans grew louder as you let go of the gentleness and began to eat her pussy the way you really knew how, resulting in another orgasm that had her whimpering against Chaewon's lips and cuddling her like a teddy bear.
"Mmm, I think it's time for the main attraction," you said, wiping your chin as you knelt between Eunchae's spread legs. "Do you want to do it?"
Eunchae broke away from Chaewon's lips and looked into your eyes, then at your cock just above her pussy. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed and her breathing ragged, visibly very horny.
"Yes... I do," Eunchae nodded. "Please fuck me, manager-nim."
You took your cock and pressed the tip between her folds, but instead of taking it inside, you rubbed it up and down between them.
"Why should I?" you asked.
Eunchae frowned, confused. Beside her, Chaewon, on the other hand, gave a small smile, knowing where this was going.
"Well... because I'm naked in front of you and you just have to put it in?" Eunchae retorted.
"Indeed," you nodded. "But I'd be giving you what you want. Why would I give you what you want like you deserve it?"
"Oh come on, manager-nim!" Eunchae protested, clutching the pillow under her head with one hand. "Don't be like that! I'm sorry, okay?"
"Your apologies aren't enough, I need something more."
"What the fuck do you mean?" Eunchae tilted her head and grabbed your cock, trying to push it inside her. "Just do it!"
You grabbed her wrist and stopped her, doing it yourself, but you only got the tip inside. Eunchae twisted her hips in a desperate attempt to push more inside her.
"I need you to promise me that you'll start behaving," you said, with a stern tone in your voice that you hoped would work. "And that you'll start respecting my and Chaewon's authority, no matter what."
"And if I refuse, what are you supposed to do?" Eunchae challenged you.
You shrugged and pulled your tip out from between her folds. You made as if to get up from the bed.
"No, stop!" Eunchae stopped you, trapping you with her legs around your waist. "Oh my god, I can't believe you coerced me into this!"
"It's your fault for being nosy and not knocking before entering," you said. "And now you only have two possible choices. Decide."
"Fuck, fine! I promise!" Eunchae said. "Just fuck me!"
"You promise what?"
Eunchae rolled her eyes and growled in frustration.
"I promise I'll behave and respect your authority no matter what!" Eunchae finally blurted out.
A surge of relief washed over your body, making you take a deep breath. Nothing assured you she wasn't lying, but it was a start.
"Good girl," you smirked. "It wasn't that hard, was it?"
"Shut up."
"It's weird to ask, but are you a virgin?"
"That's none of your business!" Eunchae snapped.
"Just asking, rude ass."
Now certain you'd gotten what you wanted from her, you grabbed your cock by the base and slowly guided it inside Eunchae. The absurdly tightness of her pussy led you to believe she was indeed a virgin, but when you looked up, you didn't notice her even the slightest bit worried about it. A pained expression was what you would have expected, but Eunchae just seemed to be enjoying every inch of you filling her.
"Damn, look at you," Chaewon said from beside Eunchae, kissing her neck. "Taking all that cock in exchange for not being such a rebellious brat anymore. Don't you think that's a reasonable exchange?"
"I'm not so sure you know?" Eunchae retorted, when you were halfway inside. "But I don't think I’ll regret it anytime soon."
You sincerely hoped she wouldn't, because you wanted to get that matter with her over with so you'd only have to worry about the other three musketers.
After a few seconds of slow thrusting, your cock was buried deep inside Eunchae's pussy, which felt like a tight, warm glove enveloping you perfectly. You placed her right heel on your shoulder, and with your hand on her left thigh, you began to move your hips.
"Oh my god, Eunchae," you sighed. "You're crushing me, damn it."
"Yeah? Does it feel good?" Eunchae asked as you took the entirety of your length in and out of her with each slow pump.
"It feels amazing," you nodded, squeezing the flesh of her soft thigh beneath your fingers. "And for you?"
"You have no idea," she sighed, letting out a long moan.
Chaewon ran a hand down Eunchae's tummy and between her legs to rub her clit with swift, agile movements of her wrist. That urged you to go faster. Eunchae found Chaewon's lips again and moaned against them as you began to fuck her with swift thrusts, her hands cupping her unnie's face.
Not wanting to keep her waiting, you reached out and slid a hand between Chaewon's buttocks and found her pussy, inserting two full fingers inside her. Chaewon moaned and pulled away from Eunchae's lips, watching as you moved your wrist as you fucked Eunchae's tight pussy at a perfect pace.
The room was soon filled with both of their moans and the occasional thump of your pelvis against Eunchae's crotch. The two of you merged again in a kiss, and the first to cum was the maknae, squealing and squirming her hips. Her pussy felt even tighter that way, throbbing around your shaft and wetting it with her warm fluids.
After a few seconds, you pulled out of her and lay behind Chaewon, placing a few kisses on her shoulders.
"Come ride me, my love," you whispered in her ear.
Chaewon quickly pulled away from Eunchae and straddled you, taking your cock straight and impaling herself on it in a single motion that made you both moan. She placed her hands on your chest, and with her face only inches from yours, she began to rapidly move her hips to fuck herself against you.
Eunchae snuggled up close to you, making you turn around for a kiss. You gasped against her lips, and she caressed your abdomen. Chaewon then began to go faster, straightening her back to jump on your cock. Eunchae knelt right next to her, and returning the favor, began to kiss both her neck and her tits until she came.
Chaewon's nails dug into your abdomen as her slim, sexy body writhed on top of you, her hips grinding back and forth with your cock buried deep inside her. Soon, she got off of you, and Eunchae lay down next to you again, this time on her side. You turned toward her, and with her back pressed against your chest and your arms wrapped around her body, you went back inside her pussy.
Your lips and Eunchae's met again, this time in a fiery, heated kiss. Chaewon lay in front of her, intertwining their legs together as you fucked her pussy with hard, deep pumps. A few seconds later, you broke away from Eunchae's lips and brought Chaewon's face closer. Eunchae tilted her neck toward you, enough so the three of you could share a sloppy three-way kiss.
"Oh my fucking god, I'm going crazy," Eunchae moaned, breaking away from the kiss. "Keep going, oppa... god, keep going, keep going!"
You planted one foot on the mattress and gripped Eunchae's waist, slamming your pelvis against her buttocks and making her whimper in pleasure until she came in a maelstrom of moans and little whimpers. The way her pussy clenched around you made you moan and realize how close you were to cumming too.
"Eunchae, I'm really close..." you gasped, squeezing her against you as she writhed in pleasure. "Where...?"
"Out, oppa, please," Eunchae replied with a moan, clutching your forearm. "Not inside."
Exactly the response you expected. You buried your face in her neck, making her feel your hot, labored breathing as you resumed the rhythm in and out of her. Eunchae reached behind her and gripped your head, tugging at your hair. A minute later, you moaned as you felt that delicious tingle travel down to your lower region, and just before cumming, you quickly pulled out your cock, pressed the tip against her ass, and masturbated until you exploded.
"Mmmh fuck!" you groaned, squeezing Eunchae tightly against you as you shot a thick load that stained her waist and hips, and completely filled her ass.
"Mmm," Eunchae moaned, watching you cum, stroking your hair. "It feels so warm against my skin..."
"Let me do you a favor," Chaewon said, kneeling up to bend over Eunchae's ass and wipe your cum off with her tongue while it was still coming out from your tip. "Stay still."
Chaewon did an impeccable job cleaning every stained spot on Eunchae's skin, and when she was done, she brought your cock to her mouth to suck every inch slowly. When she left you glistening, with only a light layer of saliva, she lay down next to Eunchae, staring at the ceiling.
Silence then reigned in the room, your breathing slowly returning to normal. A while later, Chaewon sat up, covering her breasts with a blanket, and looked at you.
"This is the first and last time this happens, okay?" she asked. "You know exactly why."
"I know," you nodded, part of your head resting on Eunchae's. "You can trust me."
"Very well. The ship will stay afloat, then."
"Look on the bright side, we've already taken a step. It's one less weed to cut."
"Oppa... unnie," Eunchae said in a small, tired voice. "Please don't let the others find out about this. I'm a little embarrassed that they'll get that image of me."
You hoped Sakura and Yunjin weren't paying attention to the noise because of how high they must be, because otherwise, they would surely have realized it was two pairs of moans, not just one, and immediately associated it with Eunchae.
"They won't, sweetie," you replied, stroking her hair. "Don't worry."
You then felt a calmness you hadn't felt in a long time. HYBE's letter was still pounding in your head, but patching things up with Chaewon and putting Eunchae back in line was definitely a turning point you were grateful for.
Chaewon stood up and began searching for her clothes with slow movements. You stared at her, noticing a big change in her expression. Her anger and resentment had definitely disappeared. Eunchae, for her part, just squeezed your hand with her eyes closed, relaxing.
Then your phone rang with a notification. You looked for it, but the noise had come from the floor. Chaewon ended up passing it to you, and you sighed in relief when you read what you'd received.
"What's wrong?" Chaewon asked.
"HYBE postponed the meeting to Monday. We have time to sort this whole mess out."
Chaewon mimicked your sigh, putting on her panties and T-shirt.
"Thank the Lord," she said, lying back down.
Eunchae sat up a minute later and got out of bed to find her clothes. Her cheeks were still flushed, and she glanced at you, embarrassed.
"I'm... sorry about the beer, oppa," she said, putting on her panties and bra. "And everything. I promise to improve and help you with the others. To... I don't know, make them reconsider."
Chaewon nodded, a proud little smile on her face, a mirror of yours.
"Thanks, Manchae," you said, watching her get dressed and imitating her, putting on your boxers and sweatpants. "I really appreciate it."
"It’s nothing. But can we take a nap?" she asked, already dressed. "I'm exhausted."
As soon as she said that, Chaewon got closer to you and cuddled up to you.
"Yes, but he's mine," Chaewon said. "You lie down over there," she pointed to the other side of the bed.
Eunchae rolled her eyes, shook her head, and lay down with you two.
But not even five minutes had passed when you heard a sudden commotion in another room: music now playing incredibly loudly. The ones responsible? Probably Bob Marley and Willie Nelson.
You sighed against Chaewon's back, realizing you had a lot of work to do.
(Alice's Sohee X Dreamcatcher's Yoohyeon X Male Reader) Wordcount: 10113 words
You press your body down against Sohee’s back, pinning her smaller frame into the mattress as you thrust deep into her tight pussy from behind. She’s lying flat on her stomach, completely naked. Her legs are slightly spread beneath you. Her cute face is turned to the side, cheek pressed against the sheets. Her mouth is open in a constant stream of soft moans. Her dark hair is messy and fanned out across the pillow.
You’re in full prone bone position, your chest pressed against her back, hips flush against her round ass, cock buried deep inside her dripping cunt. The angle is deep. Every slow, heavy thrust makes her body sink further into the bed as you grind against her.
“Fuck… baby.”
You groan into her ear. Rolling your hips, you push your cock even deeper into her tight heat.
“You feel so fucking good like this.”
Sohee whimpers, her fingers clutching the sheets.
“Ahh… oppa… it’s so deep…”
Her voice is muffled against the mattress. Her pussy clenches hard around your shaft as you slowly pull back and drive in again. Those hard, long strokes make her ass jiggle softly with every impact.
You slide one arm under her chest, wrapping it around her soft tits and pulling her upper body slightly up against you while your other hand grips her slim waist. The new leverage lets you fuck her harder with deep, possessive thrusts that make the bed creak beneath you.
Sohee’s moans grow louder and needier. Her tight little pussy gets wetter with every stroke, coating your cock and dripping down onto the sheets. Her ass feels perfect against your pelvis. Big, soft, round, and warm as you pound into her. You lean down and kiss the side of her neck, then gently bite her shoulder as you start fucking her with more force. The wet sound of your cock sliding in and out of her soaked cunt fills the room.
“Mmm-! Harder… please…”
Sohee begs, pushing her ass back against you as much as she can in this pinned position.
“Fuck me harder, oppa…”
You growl softly and give her exactly what she wants. Your hips snap forward faster, driving your cock into her pussy with deep, relentless strokes. The position lets you completely dominate her, your weight pressing her down, your cock reaching places that make her tremble and whimper uncontrollably beneath you.
Sohee’s legs kick weakly against the mattress, toes curling as pleasure overwhelms her. Her soft ass cushions your hips as you grind against her. Just as you start picking up the pace even further, thrusting harder into her wet heat-
Ding-dong
The doorbell rings through the apartment.
Both of you freeze instantly. Your cock is still buried deep inside her, throbbing against her walls. Sohee’s breath catches in her throat. You wait a few seconds, hoping whoever it is will go away. When nothing happens, you slowly start moving again with gentle, shallow thrusts, trying not to make too much noise as you stay buried in her pussy.
Sohee whimpers. Her voice is shaky with both pleasure and disappointment.
“O-oppa… stop… please…”
She manages, even as her pussy clenches around you involuntarily.
The doorbell rings again. It sounds louder and more impatient this time.
You groan in frustration, hips still pressed tightly against her ass. Neither of you moves. Your cock twitches inside her, desperate to keep going.
Ding-dong
A third, longer ring echoes through the apartment and Sohee lets out a soft, frustrated sigh.
“We… we have to get the door…”
You sigh as well and lean down, pressing one last tender kiss to the back of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.
“Fuck… okay.”
You slowly pull your cock out of her pussy, watching as her tight hole clenches around nothing. Sohee lets out a soft, needy whine at the sudden emptiness. Then, she pushes herself up on shaky arms and quickly adjusts her dress, pulling it back down over her ass and thighs. Her cheeks are flushed, hair slightly messy, and her legs look unsteady as she stands up. You quickly pull your pants back on, still painfully hard and frustrated. The two of you walk toward the front door together, Sohee trying to fix her hair with her fingers while you stay close behind her.
Whoever is at the door better have a damn good reason for interrupting.
The moment the door swings open, you both see Yoohyeon standing there. Sohee’s cousin. She looks absolutely devastated. Her eyes are red and puffy, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. Her usual bright aura is completely gone. She’s still in her practice clothes, hair slightly messy, shoulders slumped.
“Sohee-ya…”
Yoohyeon’s voice cracks as soon as she sees her cousin.
Sohee’s eyes widen in shock.
“Unnie?! What happened?!”
You take a few steps back instinctively, giving them space. Your cock is still painfully hard in your pants, throbbing from being buried inside Sohee just moments ago. You were really hoping this would be a quick interruption so you could get right back to fucking her senseless… but judging by Yoohyeon’s face, that’s clearly not happening.
“I’ll get you some water.”
You mutter quietly, excusing yourself and heading toward the kitchen. You keep one ear open as you grab a glass and fill it with cold water. From the entrance, you hear Yoohyeon’s broken voice.
“I… I caught him cheating.”
She sobs into Sohee’s arms.
“I came home early from practice and he was… he was in our bed with another girl. I just… I left. I didn’t know where else to go…”
“Oh my god, unnie…”
Sohee’s voice is full of sympathy. You hear her pulling Yoohyeon into a tighter hug.
“Come here… I’m so sorry. That bastard. Are you okay?”
You walk back from the kitchen with the glass of water just as Sohee gently leads a crying Yoohyeon toward the living room couch. Sohee has her arm wrapped comfortingly around her taller cousin’s shoulders, rubbing her back.
Yoohyeon sits down heavily on the couch, still sniffling. Sohee sits right beside her, holding her hand. You quietly place the glass of water on the coffee table in front of them. Yoohyeon gives you a weak, teary-eyed nod of thanks, but she’s clearly too emotional to say much.
Sohee glances at you for a brief second - a mix of apology and lingering heat in her eyes - before turning her full attention back to her cousin.
“It’s going to be okay, unnie.”
She says, stroking Yoohyeon’s hair.
“You can stay here as long as you need. We’ve got you.”
Yoohyeon leans against Sohee’s shoulder, fresh tears falling.
“I feel so stupid… I really loved him…”
You stand awkwardly a few steps away, but then glance toward the entrance and notice a medium-sized suitcase sitting by the door. Yoohyeon must have brought it with her. Not wanting to just stand there awkwardly while the two cousins talk, you quietly pick it up and carry it down the hallway to the guest room. You set the suitcase neatly beside the bed, giving them some privacy. When you return to the living room, the atmosphere is heavy with emotion.
Sohee is still sitting close to Yoohyeon on the couch, one arm wrapped around her cousin’s shoulders. She’s speaking in the sweetest, softest voice, gently stroking Yoohyeon’s hair and rubbing her back.
“It’s not your fault, unnie. He’s the idiot who ruined everything. You deserve so much better… You’re beautiful, talented, and kind. He never deserved you.”
But when Sohee briefly glances up at you, her eyes tell a completely different story. There’s clear, burning anger in them. A sharp, protective fury directed at Yoohyeon’s now ex-boyfriend. Her jaw is slightly clenched even as she keeps her voice gentle and comforting for her cousin.
Yoohyeon keeps sniffling, fresh tears soaking into Sohee’s shoulder as she clings to her.
“I just… I thought he loved me…”
You stay quiet, standing a respectful distance away. Sohee continues consoling her for several more minutes until Yoohyeon’s sobs slowly start to ease. Her crying turns into soft, tired sniffles. Sohee gently wipes the tears from Yoohyeon’s cheeks with her thumb and offers a warm smile.
“Unnie… how about you take a nice hot shower? Wash all of today off. Then we can go out and eat something good. My treat. We can talk more, or just eat and forget about that trash for a while. What do you think?”
Yoohyeon nods weakly, managing a small, grateful smile.
“…Okay. Thank you, Sohee-ya. I’m sorry for showing up like this…”
“Don’t apologize.”
Sohee says, hugging her again.
“You’re family. You can come here anytime.”
Yoohyeon slowly gets up and heads toward the bathroom, still looking drained. Sohee watches her go with concerned eyes before turning back to you.
The moment Yoohyeon disappears down the hallway, Sohee lets out a long, frustrated sigh. The sweet expression she wore for her cousin vanishes, replaced by visible irritation. She looks at you, biting her lip, clearly still worked up from both the interrupted sex and her cousin’s situation.
The second Yoohyeon closes the bathroom door behind her, Sohee snaps. Her eyes blaze with a mix of frustration and raw lust. Before you can even say anything, she pushes you hard toward the armchair. You stumble back and drop into it, and Sohee immediately climbs on top of you, straddling your lap. Her dress rides up her thighs as she yanks your pants down just enough to free your hard cock. Without a single word, she grabs your shaft, lines it up with her soaked pussy, and sinks down hard.
“Fuck-”
You groan as her tight heat engulfs you completely. Sohee doesn’t ease into it. She starts riding you immediately, fast and aggressive, slamming herself down onto your cock with unusual force. Her hips snap violently, taking every inch of you again and again. The armchair creaks under the rough rhythm.
It doesn’t take long before the anger fully takes over. Her riding turns savage. It’s now hard, angry bounces that make her ass slap against your thighs.
You groan too.
Slap!
Sohee’s hand connects sharply with your cheek. Her eyes are dark and commanding as she snarls right in your face.
“Shut the fuck up.”
You swallow the next moan, heart racing. You don’t mind this side of her at all. Not when she’s using your cock like this to vent her rage. Her tight pussy squeezes you mercilessly as she rides you even harder, grinding and bouncing with pure aggression.
But Sohee can’t stay completely quiet either. Soft, angry moans and heavy breaths start slipping from her lips despite her best efforts. She presses her lips together tightly, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tries to hold back her sounds. Her nails dig into your shoulders through your shirt as she fucks herself on your cock.
“Sohee… slow down a little-”
She leans in fast and sinks her teeth into your earlobe, biting hard enough to make you hiss.
“Be quiet.”
You can barely hear the sound of the running shower over Sohee’s heavy breathing and the wet sounds of her pussy sliding up and down your cock. She keeps destroying herself on you, chasing her own release while using you to take out her anger at her cousin’s ex. Her hot breath fans against your ear with every moan she fails to hold back. Her tight walls flutter and clench around you as she rides you like she’s trying to break you.
Her hips keep slamming down onto you with raw, desperate force, riding your cock like she’s trying to punish it. Her tight pussy grips you harder as she grinds and bounces with furious need. You can feel her getting closer. Her walls flutter aggressively around your shaft.
And you’re right there with her. Your hands dig into her ass, helping her move faster as the pressure builds rapidly in your core. Both of you are breathing hard, trying desperately to stay quiet with Yoohyeon just down the hall in the shower.
Sohee suddenly leans forward and sinks her teeth into your shoulder, biting down hard through your shirt to muffle the loud moan threatening to escape her. The sharp pain only turns you on more. You bite your own lip, stifling your own groans as your cock throbs violently inside her.
Then it hits both of you at the same time. Sohee’s pussy clenches tightly around your cock as she cums, her whole body shaking on top of you. Her walls milk you rhythmically, squeezing and pulsing as if trying to drain you completely. You thrust up into her one last time and explode, pumping thick ropes of cum deep into her cunt. You fill her up to the brim, groaning into her hair as you empty everything you have inside her.
For a few long seconds, the only sounds are your heavy breathing and the faint noise of the shower running. Sohee slowly lifts her head from your shoulder, her face flushed and eyes slightly dazed. She looks at you with a mix of satisfaction and guilt.
“I’m sorry…”
She whispers, still sitting on your cock.
“I couldn’t hold back.”
You shake your head, still catching your breath.
“It’s okay.”
But Sohee shakes her head, looking genuinely apologetic.
“No… I’m sorry that we won’t have as much intimacy now that Yoohyeon unnie is here. She needs me right now, and I…”
You reach up and gently cup her cheek.
“Hey, it’s really okay. The most important thing right now is that Yoohyeon feels better. We can be patient.”
Sohee’s expression softens. She leans in and kisses you deeply, her lips lingering against yours for a long moment.
“Thank you.”
She shifts slightly and winces.
“Ah… your cum is leaking out.”
With a small, embarrassed laugh, Sohee carefully lifts herself off your cock. A thick trickle of your cum drips from her pussy down her inner thigh. She quickly pulls her dress back into place, trying to clean herself up as best as she can with her hand.
She gives you one last soft smile before standing up on slightly shaky legs.
“I should put on some underwear before we go out.”
You slowly wake up in your bed, blinking against the morning light filtering through the curtains. It’s been exactly one week since Yoohyeon showed up crying at your door. And it’s been one of the most sexually frustrating weeks of your entire life.
You stretch your arms, feeling the familiar ache of unmet need between your legs. Your cock is already half-hard just from the thoughts running through your head.
The situation with Yoohyeon has been… challenging.
She hasn’t been home that often, which is the only thing keeping you sane. Most days she leaves early for intense workouts or long practice sessions at the company, trying to burn off the pain from her breakup. But whenever she is home… she makes it incredibly difficult.
Yoohyeon has apparently decided that “comfortable” clothing means as little fabric as possible.
Just two days ago you walked into the kitchen in the morning and found her standing there in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of tiny black panties. The shirt barely covered her ass, and when she reached up for something in the cabinet, you got a full view of her long legs and the underside of her chest. She didn’t even flinch when she noticed you. She just smiled sleepily and said good morning like it was completely normal.
Because you’re Sohee’s boyfriend, she seems to trust you completely. There’s zero shame in her eyes when you accidentally walk in on her half-dressed. That trust somehow makes it even worse. If she was actively teasing you, at least you could feel guilty about looking. But she’s just… comfortable. Natural. And that makes staring at her tall, toned, incredibly sexy body feel like torture.
On top of that, your sex life with Sohee has taken a serious hit. The two of you have only managed to sneak in quick, quiet sessions twice in the past week. No more rough fucking in the middle of your apartment. Just careful, hushed sex when Yoohyeon is either asleep or out.
You shuffle out of the bedroom still half asleep, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Your hair is messy. Your eyes are barely open. And your morning wood is straining against the fabric. The apartment is quiet. Sohee left early for her schedule. She’d kissed your cheek and whispered goodbye before slipping out. The door to Yoohyeon’s guest room is wide open. She must have left for practice or the gym already.
You yawn and start heading toward the kitchen for some water when your phone vibrates in your hand. You unlock it and nearly drop the phone.
Sohee sent you three new pictures.
The first one shows her in a tight red off-shoulder top and jeans, looking over her shoulder with a seductive little smirk, her waist and hips on full display. The second is a close-up of her face, finger on her lips, eyes full of mischief. The third is her posing playfully, midriff exposed, that little silver chain around her waist catching the light.
“I miss having you inside my ass every night, oppa…”
Your cock twitches hard. The frustration of the past week hits you even harder. All those interrupted moments, quiet quickies, and having to hold back because Yoohyeon is staying here… it’s been driving you insane.
You don’t even make it to the kitchen. You stumble over to the couch and drop down. You pull your boxers down just enough for your throbbing cock to spring free. You open Sohee’s pictures again and wrap your hand around your shaft. Your mind floods with memories. How tight and hot her ass always feels. The way she moans when you stretch her open. How she pushes back against you when you fuck her deep.
Your hand moves faster. You stare at the picture of her ass in those tight jeans and imagine pulling them down, spreading her cheeks, and sliding your cock into that perfect, tight little hole. The way she always whimpers and clenches around you when you’re buried balls-deep in her ass…
“Fuck… Sohee…”
You groan, stroking harder now.
Your hips start bucking slightly into your fist as you lose yourself in the fantasy, remembering how she used to beg you to cum inside her ass, how she’d squeeze so perfectly around you when she came.
In your head, she’s bouncing on your cock in reverse, her tight hole swallowing every inch as her ass ripples with every drop. You can almost feel how hot and snug she is, how she clenches around you when she gets close.
Your hand strokes faster, your groans filling the quiet living room as you chase the fantasy. Your head rolls back against the couch, eyes half-closed, lost in the memory of how her ass used to milk you every night before Yoohyeon moved in.
You let out a low, needy groan-
A soft gasp on your left.
Your head snaps to the side.
Yoohyeon
She’s standing there frozen in the hallway entrance, wearing a blue cropped zip-up jacket and tiny denim shorts. Her eyes are wide, mouth hanging open in shock as she stares directly at your hand furiously stroking your hard cock in the middle of the living room.
For a split second, time seems to stop.
Yoohyeon’s gaze flicks from your face, down to your exposed cock, and back up again. Her cheeks flush bright red, but she doesn’t immediately look away. She just stands there, stunned.
You freeze mid-stroke, heart hammering in your chest, cock still twitching in your grip.
For several long, agonizing seconds, neither of you moves or speaks.
Then Yoohyeon’s eyes flick up to your face again. Her lips move like she wants to say something, but no words come out. She swallows visibly. Then her gaze drops back down to your cock for a brief moment before snapping back up again.
“I… I thought you left with Sohee…”
She finally whispers. Her hands fidget nervously at her sides.
You quickly try to pull your boxers up, but it’s far too late. She’s already seen everything.
“I’m… fuck, I’m sorry.”
You stammer, face burning with embarrassment. Your heart is pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears.
“I didn’t know you were still home.”
Yoohyeon bites her lower lip, looking incredibly flustered. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, but she still hasn’t turned away or walked back to her room. The silence stretches again. Your cock twitches in your lap, still painfully hard. Yoohyeon’s eyes drop to it once more. She quickly looks away, but not before you catch the way her thighs press together.
“I should… I should go.”
She mumbles, but her feet don’t move. Her voice is a shaky mix of embarrassment and something else. The air feels thick with tension. The images of Sohee are still open on your phone, lying on the couch beside you. Yoohyeon’s eyes flick toward the screen for a split second before returning to you. She looks torn between bolting back to her room and staying right where she is.
“I’m really sorry.”
You say again.
“I thought I was alone. Sohee left early and the door to your room was open so I assumed…”
Yoohyeon swallows hard, cheeks still burning.
“It’s… it’s okay. I didn’t mean to walk in on you. I just forgot my charger and…”
Her eyes flick down to your cock again for a second before she forces them back up to your face.
You should cover up. You know you should. But the way she’s looking at you - flustered, curious, and clearly turned on - makes you hesitate.
“It’s been… a really long time for me.”
She admits quietly, almost like she can’t stop the words from coming out.
“Since my ex… I haven’t had sex in months. And even before that… I didn’t feel desired. He barely touched me toward the end.”
Her voice cracks slightly as she continues.
“I thought I was over it, but walking in on you like this… seeing you so hard and horny… it just reminds me how long it’s been since anyone wanted me like that.”
Your hand slowly moves back to your cock without you thinking about it. You wrap your fingers around the shaft and give it a slow stroke, right in front of her. Yoohyeon’s eyes widen as she watches you, but she still doesn’t turn away.
Your gaze travels shamelessly over her body. The cropped jacket hugs her chest. Her toned stomach is on display. Those tiny denim shorts barely cover her long legs and perfect ass. She looks incredibly hot standing there.
Yoohyeon’s breathing quickens. Her thighs press together as she watches your hand move up and down your cock, her eyes dark with a mix of shock and undeniable arousal.
“You look really good right now.”
You say quietly, still stroking.
“Really fucking sexy.”
“I… I can’t believe you’re so hard right now… for me.”
Her gaze stays fixed on your throbbing cock.
“Of course I am. You have an amazing body, Yoohyeon. Look at you… so fucking hot.”
She blushes deeply. Then she glances away for a second, suddenly self-conscious.
“Sohee probably has a better body than me…”
“Your body is just as amazing as Sohee’s.”
Yoohyeon glances at you, a shy but pleased smile tugging at her lips. The compliment seems to boost her confidence, even though her cheeks are still burning red.
She steps a little closer. Her eyes drop to your cock again as you continue jerking off to her.
“I… I can’t stop looking at it.”
She admits in a hushed, embarrassed voice.
“I know.”
You reply with a small smirk.
“You’ve been staring.”
Yoohyeon blushes even harder, but she doesn’t deny it. Instead, she moves closer until she’s standing right in front of you. Then, slowly, she lowers herself down until she’s kneeling between your legs, her face now level with your throbbing cock.
“It looks even bigger from this angle…”
Her warm breath ghosts over the sensitive head of your cock, making it twitch hard in your hand. You can feel the heat of her exhale on your skin.
“Yoohyeon… are you sure about this?”
She looks up at you from between your legs. Her big eyes are shiny with hesitation and desire. Her cheeks are flushed a deep pink. After a moment, she shyly nods.
“I… I want it really bad right now. And… it’s not like you’d be cheating if I just give you head, right?”
You open your mouth to respond - you’re not entirely sure her logic holds up - but before you can form a single word, Yoohyeon leans forward and wraps her soft, warm lips around the head of your cock. She starts her blowjob slow, caressing your cock with loving licks.
A few minutes later, Yoohyeon rises from her knees. She climbs onto your lap, straddling you on the couch. Her legs settle on either side of your thighs as she sits down, pressing her body against yours. The heat of her core radiates through her shorts as she settles right on top of your throbbing, saliva-slick cock. She looks down at you, cheeks flushed, clearly nervous but excited. She reaches down between your bodies and gently guides your slick cock between her warm, thick thighs, pressing them tightly together.
The moment her soft, smooth flesh envelops your shaft, you let out a deep, involuntary moan.
“Fuck… Yoohyeon…”
Her thighs are incredibly soft yet toned. Years of dancing and working out has given them that perfect plush thickness. The heat radiating from her skin combined with how tightly she squeezes them around your cock feels heavenly. Your hands instinctively move to her thighs, gripping and kneading the soft flesh. Your fingers sink into her skin as you squeeze and caress them, completely mesmerized.
Yoohyeon lets out a shaky moan, biting her lip.
“I’m… I’m getting so wet. Just from how much you love my body… it turns me on so much.”
Because of the slightly awkward angle on the couch, you can’t thrust properly between her thighs. Instead, Yoohyeon starts grinding against you. She rolls her hips slowly at first, then with more need. Her thick thighs slide up and down your cock while the rough fabric of her denim shorts rubs against the top of your shaft at the same time. The contrast is overwhelming. The silky softness of her inner thighs hugging and caressing the sides of your cock, while the coarse denim drags teasingly along the top.
Your head spins from the sensation.
Every grind makes her shorts press down harder, the seam rubbing right against your sensitive skin as her warm thighs squeeze you tighter. You can feel how wet she’s getting. The heat from her core soaks through the thin denim as she grinds harder, chasing her own pleasure while pleasuring you. She leans forward, pressing her chest against yours as she continues rolling her hips, sliding her thighs along your throbbing cock.
“Does it feel good…? My thighs…?”
“Yes…”
You groan, hands still gripping and kneading her thick, soft thighs.
“It feels fucking amazing…”
Yoohyeon keeps grinding on you, rolling her hips in slow, needy circles. The combination of her warm thighs squeezing your cock and the rough denim rubbing against you is driving you crazy.
“I can almost feel your pussy through your shorts.”
Yoohyeon gasps at your words, her hips stuttering for a moment. Then she looks down at you with hungry eyes.
“We could… get even closer.”
Her voice trembles with arousal.
“You could rub your cock against my bare pussy…”
She pauses, breath hitching as she adds in a shy but desperate tone:
“And if it slips in… it slips in.”
Your heart hammers in your chest. Yoohyeon is already reaching down, hooking her fingers into the waistband of her tiny shorts, ready to pull them down and wiggle them off her hips.
But suddenly, a brutal wave of guilt crashes over you like ice water.
“What the fuck am I doing?”
This is Sohee’s cousin. You’re in a relationship with Sohee. You live together. She trusts you. And here you are, letting her heartbroken cousin grind on your cock and offer to let you fuck her.
It’s wrong. So fucking wrong.
“Wait-Yoohyeon, stop.”
You say, grabbing her wrists before she can pull her shorts down any further. She freezes, looking at you with wide, confused eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
The guilt twists in your stomach.
“This is wrong. I can’t do this. I can’t cheat on Sohee… especially not with you.”
Yoohyeon stays still on your lap for a moment, her face flushed. She looks disappointed, embarrassed, and still visibly aroused, but she doesn’t argue. She slowly releases the waistband of her shorts and sits back a little. Her shoulders slump and her lower lip juts out in a huge pout as she looks at you with hurt eyes.
“…Then why did you call me hot? Why did you say all those things about my body if you don’t actually want me?”
You shake your head quickly.
“That’s not it at all, Yoohyeon. You are hot. Really fucking hot. Your body is incredible. But this… this is about me and Sohee. I can’t do this to her. Especially not with you. You’re her cousin. It’s wrong.”
You keep trying to explain, but even after you run out of words, Yoohyeon still looks like she’s taking it personally. Her eyes are glassy as she slowly climbs off your lap. She stands there for a second, then lets out a quiet, defeated sigh.
“Okay…”
She turns and walks toward her guest room, her steps shaky and unsteady. Her back looks tense, and you can see her shoulders trembling slightly as she disappears down the hallway.
The moment her door clicks shut, you groan and slump back against the couch, running a hand through your hair.
“What the fuck did I just do?”
You were so close. Sohee’s incredibly hot cousin was on your lap, thighs wrapped around your cock, offering you her pussy… and your stupid conscience ruined everything. Your cock is still hard, slick with her saliva, throbbing painfully in the open air.
Your mind starts racing, desperately trying to justify what just happened - and what you almost did.
“She’s been heartbroken for a week… Wouldn’t it actually be helping her if I fucked her ex out of her system? She clearly needs to feel desired again… Maybe Sohee would even understand in this situation…?”
The denied pleasure and frustration from the entire week surge up again, clouding your judgment. Your cock twitches hard at the thought of Yoohyeon’s thick thighs and tight body. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you stand up and start walking toward her room.
You push open the door without knocking. The sight that greets you makes your cock twitch. Yoohyeon is lying completely naked on her bed, legs spread wide. One hand is between her thighs, two fingers buried deep in her pussy as she pumps them slowly. Her other hand is covering her mouth, but it’s not enough to hide the mix of soft, desperate moans and quiet sniffles escaping her.
She’s visibly turned on - her pussy is soaked, juices coating her fingers and dripping down to the sheets - but she also looks heartbroken. Tears cling to her lashes as she fingers herself, clearly trying to deal with the rejection and her own overwhelming arousal at the same time.
The moment you step inside, her eyes snap open. She freezes, fingers still buried inside herself.
For a second, neither of you moves.
Then you climb onto the bed, crawling between her toned legs. Yoohyeon’s breath hitches as you grab her thighs and push them further apart. Without saying a word, you lean down and drag your tongue slowly up her soaked slit.
“Ahh-!”
Yoohyeon’s hips jerk.
You don’t hold back. You bury your face between her thick thighs and devour her pussy, licking, sucking, and tongue-fucking her with raw hunger. You focus on her clit, sucking it between your lips while sliding two fingers inside her tight, dripping hole.
Yoohyeon goes crazy almost instantly.
“Oh my god-! Oppa-!”
She moans, one hand flying to your hair, gripping it tightly. Her hips buck wildly against your face as she grinds her soaked cunt against your tongue. Her sniffles turn into full, needy cries of pleasure.
“Fuck-! Yes-!”
Her thighs tremble around your head, squeezing you as you eat her out. You lick every drop of her wetness, curling your fingers inside her to hit that sensitive spot while your tongue flicks rapidly over her clit. Yoohyeon’s back arches off the bed, her free hand clutching the sheets as broken, desperate moans spill from her lips. Her pussy clenches hard around your fingers. She looks completely lost, tears still in her eyes from earlier, but now her face is twisted in overwhelming pleasure as you devour her dripping cunt.
“You taste amazing.”
Your voice sounds muffled to you because you speak right into her pussy and your ears are covered by her thighs.
“So fucking sweet…”
Yoohyeon whimpers, her thighs trembling around your head as she grinds against your mouth.
Then, in a shaky, desperate voice, she says something that makes you pause.
“You… you can put your cock in my ass if you want…”
She breathes, cheeks burning red.
“If putting it in my pussy feels like cheating… then my ass is okay, right? I know you and Sohee do a lot of anal…”
You lift your head from between her legs, looking up at her flushed face in surprise. Her eyes are glassy with lust and lingering sadness.
“I’m sorry…”
She continues softly, biting her lip.
“I probably cost you so many orgasms this week by staying here. You must be so frustrated…”
You stare at her for a moment. Your cock is aching, still slick from her earlier blowjob.
“If it’s really okay with you…then yes.”
Yoohyeon nods quickly, her expression a mix of nervousness and clear need.
“It’s okay. I want it. I want to feel you… please.”
You pull back, giving her room. Without hesitation, Yoohyeon rolls onto her back and smoothly pulls her long legs up and back. She folds herself in half, hooking her arms behind her knees and spreading them wide apart until her thighs are pressed against her shoulders.
Your breath catches. She looks absolutely incredible like this. Incredibly flexible, her toned body bent and fully exposed. Her soaked pussy and tight pink asshole are completely on display, glistening and twitching under your gaze.
“Fuck, Yoohyeon…You look fantastic. I didn’t know you were this flexible.”
She blushes deeply but keeps her feet next to her head, breathing shakily as she presents herself to you.
You uncap the bottle of lube you just got from the bedroom and pour a generous amount directly over her exposed pussy and asshole. The clear liquid drips down her folds and over her tight hole, making everything shiny and slippery. You add even more, making sure she’s thoroughly coated. Then you squeeze some lube onto your own cock, stroking yourself a few times to spread it evenly.
You step closer and slide your slick, lubed-up cock between her glistening pussy lips, not pushing inside, just gliding slowly up and down through her soaked folds. The heat of her pussy feels incredible against your shaft as you rub the underside of your cock along her slit, coating yourself in her juices and the lube.
Yoohyeon lets out a broken whimper, her body trembling in the folded position.
“Ahh… oppa…”
Her eyes flutter open and closed as your cock teases her dripping entrance without penetrating her.
You slide your lubed cock up and down between her glistening folds one last time, teasing her soaked pussy, before finally moving lower. You press the swollen head of your cock against her tight asshole. Yoohyeon’s breath catches. She closes her eyes tightly, her forehead furrowing in concentration as she tries to relax and take you.
You push forward slowly. The sheer amount of lube makes it significantly easier. Her tight ring of muscle gradually stretches around your thick head, allowing you to sink in. Yoohyeon lets out a shaky, strained whimper, her folded body tensing beneath you. You stop once you’re about halfway inside her ass, giving her time to adjust. The heat and tightness around your cock are overwhelming.
After a few moments, you start moving with slow, gentle, shallow strokes. You only fuck her with the first half of your cock, pulling back until just the head remains inside before sliding back in again.
“Ahh… fuck…”
Yoohyeon moans, eyes still squeezed shut. Her voice trembles with a mix of discomfort and pleasure as her ass slowly gets used to the intrusion.
“It’s so big…”
You keep the pace slow and careful, savoring the incredible tightness of her ass. Every shallow thrust makes her whimper and moan, her folded legs trembling in the air. Her pussy continues to drip with arousal, the lube and her juices making everything messy and slick. You grip her thighs for support, watching intently as your cock disappears halfway into her tightest hole again and again. Yoohyeon’s breathing gradually becomes heavier. Her whimpers slowly turn into longer, needier moans as her body starts to relax and accept you.
You grip Yoohyeon’s thighs tighter and start pushing deeper. Your cock sinks further into her tight ass with each thrust. The excessive lube makes the slide smoother. Yoohyeon’s mouth falls open in a silent cry at first, then she lets out a loud, broken moan as you bury more of your length inside her.
You gradually pick up the pace, fucking her harder. The wet, filthy sound of your hips slapping against her lubed-up ass starts echoing through the quiet apartment.
“Ahh-! Oppa-!”
Yoohyeon cries out, her voice getting louder and more desperate. Her folded body shakes with every thrust as you drive deeper into her ass.
The more you fuck her, the messier it gets. The clear lube mixes with her natural juices and turns creamy white from the friction. Every time you pull back, thick strings of the creamy mixture stretch between your hips and her ass, only to break and smear across her ass cheeks when you thrust back in.
You start pounding her harder, the plap plap plap sounds growing louder and more obscene as you bury nearly your entire cock inside her tight ass with every stroke. Yoohyeon’s moans turn into shameless, high-pitched cries that fill the room.
“Fuck-! It’s so deep-! Ahh-!”
Her pussy continues to drip and clench visibly above where your cock is stretching her asshole. Her legs tremble in the air as she takes every deep thrust, her eyes glassy with overwhelming pleasure.
The creamy lube coats both of you now, smeared across her ass, dripping down to her pussy, and covering the base of your cock. Long, sticky strings keep connecting your bodies with every pull back, making the sight even filthier.
You grip her thighs hard and fuck Yoohyeon’s tight ass with deep, steady strokes, the creamy lube making every movement slick and messy. Her moans grow louder and more desperate as you stretch her open. But on one particularly hard thrust, your cock slips out of her loosened hole completely. The slick head drags heavily upward through her soaked pussy lips, gliding between her dripping folds.
Yoohyeon gasps sharply, her entire body jerking at the sudden sensation.
Before you can even react, she whimpers urgently.
“Put it back in… please-! Put your cock back in my ass…”
Her voice is needy and broken, clearly craving the fullness. You quickly grab your cock, align it with her creamy, stretched asshole again, and push back inside her. Yoohyeon lets out a long, relieved moan as you sink back into her tight heat.
Yoohyeon is now lying flat on her stomach, face pressed into the pillow. You’re kneeling above her legs, spreading her firm ass cheeks wide apart with both hands as you fuck her tight asshole from behind. Your hips slap against her ass, the creamy mixture of lube and her juices coating both of you. Yoohyeon’s moans are muffled by the pillow, but her body keeps pushing back against you, silently begging for more.
“Fuck-your ass is so tight…”
You spread her cheeks wider so you can watch your thick cock disappearing into her stretched hole again and again. Yoohyeon’s hands clutch the sheets tightly, her back arching as she takes every deep stroke. The obscene, wet sounds of you pounding her ass fill the entire room as you use her. Your hips continue slamming against her soft cheeks. The creamy lube makes everything obscenely wet and slippery as you fuck her harder.
Your orgasm is slowly building. A heavy pressure grows in your balls as you watch your cock disappear between her spread ass cheeks again and again.
You start fucking her faster. Rougher. The sound of your hips slapping against her ass grows louder and sharper. Yoohyeon’s eyes roll back into her head as she takes the brutal pace, her mouth open in a constant stream of broken moans and gasps.
“Ahh-! Fuck-! Oppa! You’re so deep-!”
Her body jolts forward with every hard thrust, her hands fisting the sheets tightly. You grip her ass harder, spreading her cheeks wide as you rail her without mercy.
“I’m gonna cum soon-”
You groan, feeling your climax rapidly approaching.
Yoohyeon whimpers desperately, pushing her ass back against you.
“Please-! Cum on me! I want to feel it-!”
You give her a few more strokes, slamming into her tight asshole with everything you have. Then you pull out at the last second.
You stroke your cock furiously as thick, heavy ropes of cum shoot across Yoohyeon’s back and ass. You cover her smooth skin with your load, long streaks landing from the middle of her back all the way down to her round ass cheeks and dripping into her crack. Yoohyeon moans weakly, trembling beneath you as she feels the warm cum splatter across her skin. Her asshole twitches visibly, still slightly open from how hard you fucked her.
You keep stroking yourself until every last drop is drained onto her, marking her as your thick cum slowly drips down the curve of her ass.
The front door to your apartment opens and Sohee steps inside, kicking off her shoes. She had come home earlier than expected after her schedule got canceled. The apartment is quiet except for the sound of the shower running in the bathroom.
“Oppa? I’m home!”
No answer.
She frowns and walks further inside. That’s when she hears faint, muffled moaning coming from the bathroom. Female moaning. Curious and a little concerned, Sohee quietly approaches the bathroom door, which is slightly ajar. She peeks inside.
The sight that greets her makes her freeze.
Yoohyeon is pressed flat against the steamed-up shower glass, completely naked. Her tits and left cheek are squished against the transparent surface. Her mouth hangs open in a silent cry of pleasure. Her eyes are half-lidded, completely lost in ecstasy. Behind her, you have one hand tangled tightly in her wet hair, the other gripping her waist as you fuck her hard from behind. The shower is running, water cascading over both of your bodies as you thrust deep into her ass. The wet slapping sounds echo through the bathroom with every snap of your hips.
For a brief second, pure anger flashes across Sohee’s face. But then she really looks at Yoohyeon’s expression. The way her cousin’s face is wrecked with pleasure, eyes rolled back, mouth slack, completely overwhelmed by how good she’s being fucked. Sohee’s anger slowly fades. A strange, complicated mix of emotions crosses her face: jealousy, surprise, and eventually… understanding. She watches for a few more seconds as you continue pounding her cousin’s ass. Yoohyeon’s moans grow louder and more broken.
Sohee bites her lip.
She’s actually… happy.
Her cousin had been so heartbroken for weeks. And right now, Yoohyeon looks like she’s finally feeling desired again. Like someone is properly taking care of her.
Sohee steps inside quietly and turns off the shower. The water stops running over your bodies, leaving only the sound of wet skin slapping together and Yoohyeon’s broken moans. You turn your head in surprise. Sohee meets your eyes, a mix of heat and possessiveness in her gaze. Without saying a word, she steps forward, grabs your face with both hands, and pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss. You moan into her mouth as you continue fucking Yoohyeon’s tight ass, your hips still snapping forward. Sohee kisses you passionately, her tongue sliding against yours while you ruin her cousin right in front of her.
Yoohyeon whimpers at the sudden shift, her cheek still pressed against the glass.
Sohee eventually pulls back from the kiss. She looks down at her cousin and smirks.
“Move over for a second, unnie.”
Yoohyeon obediently pulls off your cock and turns around. She drops to her knees on the wet shower floor and immediately wraps her lips around your cock, sucking you eagerly while Sohee quickly unbuttons her jeans and tugs them down to her knees, along with her panties.
You turn Sohee around so she’s facing the shower wall. She braces her hands against the tiles, arching her back and pushing her ass toward you. Her perfect, round ass is fully exposed. You press the head of your cock - still slick from Yoohyeon’s ass and mouth - against Sohee’s tight asshole and start pushing in. Sohee lets out a long, satisfied moan as you stretch her open, sinking deeper into her familiar heat.
Once you’re buried inside her ass, you start fucking her properly with hard, deep strokes that make her moan. The sound of your hips slapping against Sohee’s ass fills the bathroom as you rail her from behind. Yoohyeon stays on her knees beside you, occasionally licking and sucking your balls while you pound her cousin’s tight asshole.
Sohee looks back at you over her shoulder, eyes full of lust.
“Fuck me harder, oppa. Use my ass like you were using hers.”
You grip Sohee’s hips tightly and fuck her ass with deep, harsh strokes, burying your cock to the hilt inside her. The tight, familiar heat of her ass squeezes around you perfectly as you rail her against the shower wall.
“Fuck-yes, just like that.”
Sohee moans and pushes her ass back against you.
Yoohyeon, still flushed and breathing heavily, stands up and moves right beside her cousin. She braces her hands on the wall next to Sohee, arches her back, and pushes her ass out as well.
Her voice is shy but needy as she looks back at you.
“Me too. Please… use my ass again.”
The sight of both women standing side by side, bent over and offering their asses to you, makes your cock throb inside Sohee. You pull out of your girlfriend and immediately shift over to Yoohyeon. You spread her cheeks and push your cock back into her freshly fucked asshole. Yoohyeon lets out a loud whimper as you sink deep inside her again.
You alternate between them.
You fuck Yoohyeon hard for several deep strokes, making her moan and tremble, then pull out and slam back into Sohee’s tighter, more familiar ass. Back and forth, switching between their holes, pounding one for a few thrusts before moving to the other.
The bathroom fills with the obscene sounds of wet slapping skin and their mixed moans.
“Ahh-! Oppa-!”
Yoohyeon cries out as you drive into her ass.
“Fuck me harder.”
Sohee demands when you switch back to her, pushing her ass back onto your cock greedily.
Both of their asses feel amazing with Yoohyeon’s being slick and tight and Sohee’s being warm and familiar. You spread their cheeks wide as you alternate, watching your cock disappear into one tight hole after the other. Their moans blend together, creating a filthy harmony as you use both of their asses in quick succession.
Sohee looks back at you with a wicked, satisfied smirk while Yoohyeon’s legs shake every time you thrust deep into her. You keep switching between them, fucking Sohee’s perfect ass, then Yoohyeon’s eager one, over and over, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of having both women bent over for you.
You pull out of Sohee’s ass and immediately slam into Yoohyeon’s, making her cry out. Then back to Sohee. Then Yoohyeon again. Both women reach behind themselves, grabbing each other’s ass cheeks and spreading them wide open for you, offering their holes eagerly. You drive them forward with every hard thrust, pressing their bodies against the cool shower wall as you switch back and forth between their tight asses.
Sohee turns her head toward her cousin. Without a word, Yoohyeon leans in and the two of them start kissing each other messily, tongues sliding, moans muffled into each other’s mouths as you continue fucking their asses in turns.
You have Sohee completely folded in a full Nelson position. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed with Sohee in your lap, her back pressed against your chest. Your arms are hooked tightly underneath her knees, hands locked behind her head, forcing her to stay folded in half. Her red top is bunched up above her tits, the fabric stuffed between her teeth to muffle her loud moans. Her legs are spread wide, completely exposing her holes. You thrust up hard into her asshole, fucking her deep in this helpless position. Sohee is forced to watch everything, her own stretched, gaping asshole taking every inch of your thick cock as you pound her.
Right in front of her, Yoohyeon kneels on the floor, watching with wide, shocked eyes and an open mouth. Her gaze is locked on the sight of your cock destroying Sohee’s tight ass, mesmerized by how deep you’re going and how her cousin’s hole stretches around you.
“Mmmph-! Mmmph-!”
Sohee moans into her own bunched-up top, drool dripping from the corner of her mouth as you rail her asshole mercilessly in front of her cousin.
Yoohyeon’s hand unconsciously moves between her own legs, touching herself while she watches you wreck Sohee’s ass.
You keep Sohee locked in this position, your arms hooked under her knees and hands behind her head, folding her petite body in half. Her top muffles her loud, desperate moans as you thrust up hard into her tight ass. Sohee’s eyes are glassy, forced to watch every inch of your thick cock stretching and gaping her own asshole right in front of her.
Yoohyeon is kneeling close, eyes wide with lust as she watches you destroy her cousin’s ass. She’s breathing heavily, completely mesmerized by the sight. She leans in closer, face just inches away from where your cock is pounding into Sohee. Between your deep thrusts, Yoohyeon sticks her tongue out and does her best to lick the messy connection, dragging her warm tongue across your shaft and Sohee’s stretched rim whenever you pull back.
“Mmmph!!”
Sohee cries out into her top, her body shaking violently at the added sensation of her cousin’s tongue licking her gaping asshole while you fuck it.
Yoohyeon moans softly as she tastes the mix of lube, Sohee’s juices, and your cock, eagerly licking every time you give her an opening. Her tongue swirls messily around the point of penetration, making everything even wetter and filthier.
You start fucking Sohee even harder, slamming up into her ass with hard strokes. The lewd sounds of your cock destroying her tight hole fill the bedroom. Sohee’s muffled moans grow louder and more frantic. Her body starts trembling uncontrollably in your arms. After an entire week without a proper orgasm, the overwhelming pleasure finally pushes her over the edge.
She cums hard.
Her asshole clenches like crazy around your cock as her first real orgasm in a week crashes through her. Her eyes roll back, legs shaking in the air while her entire body convulses. A long, broken cry is barely contained by the fabric between her teeth as her pussy squirts slightly, dripping down onto your balls and Yoohyeon’s chin.
Yoohyeon whimpers excitedly, still licking eagerly around your cock and Sohee’s spasming asshole as her cousin cums. Sohee’s body twitches and jerks in your strong grip, completely lost in ecstasy for the first time in days.
As Sohee trembles and shakes through the aftershocks of her intense orgasm, still folded in your arms, Yoohyeon looks up at you with wide, eager eyes.
“Can… Can I try that position too?”
You nod. You slowly lift Sohee off your cock, her gaping asshole twitching as your thick length slides out of her. Sohee lets out a soft, satisfied whimper as you gently lower her onto the bed. Yoohyeon quickly takes her cousin’s place, climbing into your lap with her back against your chest. You hook your arms underneath her legs, folding her in half just like you did with Sohee. Your hands lock behind her head, putting her in a helpless hold. Her flexible body bends easily, her ass and dripping pussy completely exposed right in front of her face.
Sohee, still recovering, sinks down to her knees on the floor between your legs. She leans forward and gives your cock a few eager, sloppy sucks, coating it thoroughly with her saliva and the remnants of her own ass. Then she grabs your slick shaft and guides the head straight toward Yoohyeon’s tight asshole.
“Be a good girl and take it.”
Sohee says, her voice rough, looking up at her cousin.
“Tear her ass up, oppa.”
You push forward. Yoohyeon’s eyes widen in shock as she feels your thick cock stretching her asshole again. Because of the position, she has a perfect, close-up view of her own ass being penetrated. Her mouth falls open in disbelief as she watches inch after inch of your cock disappear into her tight hole.
“Oh my god…I can see it… I can see my ass taking your cock…”
You start fucking her with slow, deep strokes, letting her feel all of it. The position makes her completely helpless, folded in half, legs in the air, forced to watch her own asshole getting stretched and used. Every thrust makes her moan loudly, her eyes glued to the lewd sight of your cock pumping in and out of her. Yoohyeon is completely overwhelmed, moaning and whimpering as she’s forced to watch herself get her asshole destroyed in the most exposing position possible.
“I… I can’t believe it…”
Yoohyeon whimpers, eyes wide with disbelief as she stares down at the sight.
“I can see your cock… going so deep inside my ass… Oh my god, it looks so big…”
Her voice cracks, her gaping hole stretching visibly around your thick shaft.
Sohee, still kneeling between your legs, watches with dark, aroused eyes. At one point, she reaches up and gently stops your movement.
“Wait a second, oppa.”
She grabs your slick cock and slowly pulls it out of Yoohyeon’s ass. Yoohyeon’s asshole remains open for a few seconds, visibly gaped, pink insides showing as it twitches and slowly tries to close.
Both girls stare at it in awe.
“Look at that…Her ass is so open… you really wrecked her.”
Yoohyeon lets out a broken, embarrassed moan at the sight of her own gaped asshole, cheeks burning bright red.
Sohee doesn’t let her recover for long. She quickly lines your cock back up with Yoohyeon’s twitching hole and pushes the head back inside. You immediately resume fucking her - harder this time - driving your cock deep into her loosened ass.
“Ahh-! Fuck-!”
Yoohyeon cries out, eyes still glued to the filthy sight.
Sohee leans in closer, pressing her face between Yoohyeon’s spread thighs. She starts eating her cousin’s dripping pussy with enthusiasm, licking and sucking on her swollen clit while you continue pounding Yoohyeon’s ass from below.
The dual stimulation makes Yoohyeon lose her mind. Her moans turn into high-pitched, desperate screams as she’s forced to watch her own asshole getting destroyed while her cousin eagerly eats her out at the same time. Her body shakes violently in your strong hold, completely overwhelmed by pleasure.
Sohee moans into Yoohyeon’s pussy, clearly enjoying herself as she licks and sucks, occasionally letting her tongue brush against your cock as you thrust in and out of her cousin’s ass.
You feel your orgasm rapidly approaching as you continue pounding up into Yoohyeon’s tight ass. The combination of her spasming hole and Sohee’s eager mouth on her pussy is pushing both of you closer to the edge.
Yoohyeon suddenly lets out a broken, high-pitched cry.
“I’m-I’m cuming-!”
Her entire body convulses violently in your hold. Her ass clenches and spasms hard around your cock as a powerful orgasm crashes through her. Her pussy gushes against Sohee’s tongue, juices dripping down as her asshole milks you rhythmically, trying to pull you even deeper.
Sohee moans happily into her cousin’s pussy, licking her through the intense orgasm.
You groan deeply, barely able to hold back anymore.
“Yoohyeon… I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna creampie your ass-”
“Yes! Please…!”
Yoohyeon begs.
“Cum inside me-! Fill my ass, please-! I want it…!”
Sohee pulls her mouth away from Yoohyeon’s pussy, looking up with lust-filled eyes as she watches your cock disappear into her cousin’s gaping asshole.
“Do it, oppa.”
Sohee encourages.
“Fill her up. Pump her ass full of your cum. She needs it.”
You slam up into Yoohyeon one final time and explode deep inside her ass. Thick, heavy ropes of cum shoot straight into her bowels as your cock pulses violently. You groan loudly, holding her folded body tightly as you empty everything you have inside her, flooding her tight ass with your load.
Yoohyeon whimpers and moans helplessly, feeling every spurt as you creampie her. Her ass continues to twitch and squeeze around you, milking every last drop. Sohee watches with dark fascination, biting her lip as she sees your cock buried to the hilt inside her cousin, pumping her full.
When you finally finish, you stay buried deep inside Yoohyeon’s cum-filled ass, all three of you breathing heavily in the afterglow.
You slowly wake up to the most incredible sensation: warm, wet mouths working your cock with obvious hunger.
Your eyes flutter open, still heavy with sleep, and it takes you a second to process what you’re seeing.
Sohee and Yoohyeon are both between your legs.
Sohee is on the left, sucking slowly and lovingly on the head of your cock, her tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. Yoohyeon is on the right, licking and kissing along the side of your shaft, occasionally sucking on your balls. Both girls are completely naked, hair messy from sleep, eyes shining with lust as they worship your morning wood.
“Fuck…Am I still dreaming?”
Sohee pulls off your cock and smiles up at you, eyes full of mischief.
“Good morning, oppa.”
She purrs, stroking your slick shaft.
“We woke up horny… and decided we could share.”
Yoohyeon blushes but doesn’t stop licking along your length.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday.”
She admits shyly.
“It’s been so long since I felt this… wanted. I need more.”
Both of them look starving for it.
Sohee leans down and takes you back into her mouth, sucking you deeper while Yoohyeon licks wherever Sohee isn’t covering. They work together perfectly, one sucking your cock while the other licks your balls or the base, then switching without a word. Their tongues occasionally meet and brush against each other around your shaft, making the sight even filthier.
You can’t believe this is real. After an entire week of barely any sex because of Yoohyeon staying over, now both cousins are eagerly sharing your cock first thing in the morning, clearly hungry for more after finally getting properly fucked last night.
Sohee pops off again, stroking you fast with her small hand while Yoohyeon sucks on the head.
“We were talking…”
Sohee says with a naughty smile.
“And we both agreed we don’t want to stop yet.”
Yoohyeon nods eagerly, looking up at you with big, needy eyes as she swirls her tongue around your tip.
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Jaebin carried the last cardboard box up the narrow stairs and pushed open the door to room 403 with his shoulder.
The apartment smelled fresh, small, one room plus a tiny kitchen and bathroom, but it was his.
No parents nagging about dishes, no little sister stealing his snacks. Just him, a single bed, a cheap desk, and one window that looked out at the train tracks.
He dropped the box with a thud and wiped sweat from his forehead. “Finally,” he muttered.
The moving company guys had already left. Jaebin stood in the middle of the empty space, breathing hard. His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Mom: Did you arrive safely? Eat something. Don’t skip dinner just because you’re excited.
He typed back fast: Yeah, I’m good. Unpacking now. Love you.
He turned the phone face down on the desk and started opening boxes. Clothes first, then the rice cooker his mom forced him to take, then books and his old gaming laptop.
He was halfway through sorting socks when someone knocked on the door. Three quick taps.
Jaebin froze. He wasn’t expecting anyone.
He walked over and opened the door a crack.
Standing there was a girl. Long dark hair tied in a loose, white t-shirt stretched tight across her chest, denim shorts, and a friendly but slightly tired smile. She held a small paper bag in one hand and a plastic bottle of barley tea in the other.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Jihyo. From 402, right next door.”
Jaebin blinked. “Oh. Uh… hi. I’m Jaebin. Just moved in today.”
“I know.” She laughed a little. “I heard every time you dropped something.”
Jaebin’s face went red. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be loud.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I was actually waiting for you to finish so I could say welcome.” She lifted the paper bag. “I brought red bean buns. Fresh from the bakery downstairs. And this tea. Moving is hot work.”
Jaebin stared at the bag, “You didn’t have to…”
“I wanted to. New neighbors are rare here.” She tilted her head. “Can I come in for a second? Or is it too messy?”
He stepped back fast. “It’s messy, but… yeah, come in.”
Jihyo walked inside and looked around. “Wow. You work fast. Most guys would just leave boxes everywhere for a week.”
“I hate living out of boxes,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Feels like I’m still homeless.”
She nodded like she understood. “Smart. I like that.” She set the bag and tea on the tiny kitchen counter. “So, college? Work? Or…?”
“Just graduated high school. Taking a gap year. Maybe find a part-time job soon. I didn’t want to stay home doing nothing.”
Jihyo leaned against the counter. Her shirt pulled tighter when she crossed her arms. Jaebin tried very hard to keep his eyes on her face.
“Gap year is brave,” she said. “Most people just rush into university because they’re scared to stop. What do you want to do?”
“I… don’t know yet.” He laughed awkwardly. “Maybe game design? Or just anything that pays enough so I don’t go back home in shame.”
Jihyo smiled wider. “Honest. I like that too.”
She opened the paper bag and pulled out two red bean buns wrapped in wax paper. “Here. Eat one while it’s still warm.”
Jaebin took it, “Thanks,” he said quietly.
They stood there eating in silence for a moment. The bun was soft, sweet, still warm. Jaebin realized he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Jihyo finished hers first and wiped her hands on her shorts. “Okay, I should let you unpack. But… quick question.”
“Yeah?”
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen. Just turned in May.”
She nodded slowly. “Nineteen. Cute.”
Jaebin almost choked on the last bite. “C-cute?”
Jihyo laughed, covering her mouth. “Sorry, sorry. You just look… fresh? Like you haven’t been ruined by the world yet.” She waved her hand. “Don’t mind me. I’m twenty-nine. Been working full-time for three years. I forget how young nineteen sounds.”
She turned toward the door, then stopped. “Oh, one more thing.”
Jaebin looked up.
“This building,” she said, lowering her voice a little, “has kind of a… reputation. Not bad reputation. Just… lively. A lot of girls live here. Nine of us, actually, including me. All on the fourth floor.”
“Nine?” Jaebin’s brain short-circuited for a second.
“Yeah. We call it Paizuri Apartment. Not officially, of course. Just between us.”
Jaebin stared. “Paizuri…?”
She grinned like she was sharing a secret. “Don’t google it. You’ll only find weird stuff, you know what I mean.”
He swallowed. “I… uh… yeah. I know.”
“We’re not scary, I promise. Just… friendly. Very friendly. If you ever need sugar, or help with the washing machine, or just someone to talk to at 2 a.m. because you can’t sleep, knock on any door on this floor. We don’t bite. Maybe.”
Jaebin’s heart was hammering so loud, “Okay,” he managed.
Jihyo reached out and patted his shoulder once. Her hand was warm. “Welcome to the fourth floor, Jaebin. See you around.”
She opened the door and stepped out.
“Wait,” he said suddenly.
She turned back, one eyebrow raised.
“Um… thank you. For the buns. And the tea. And… coming to say hi.”
Jihyo’s smile softened. “Anytime.”
The door clicked shut.
Jaebin stood there for a full minute, staring at the closed door. His face felt hot. His chest felt tight. He looked down at the half-eaten bun still in his hand, then at the empty space where Jihyo had been standing.
“Nine girls,” he whispered to himself. “All on this floor.”
He walked to the window and looked out at the train passing by. The sun was already going down. Orange light came through the glass and painted the floor.
He laughed once, short and nervous.
“What the hell did I just move into?”
Jaebin finished unpacking the last box around 8 PM.
His stomach growled loud. The red bean bun from Jihyo was nice, but it wasn’t dinner.
He checked his wallet—enough for a triangle kimbap and maybe a canned coffee.
He grabbed his keys, slipped on sneakers, and headed out.
The hallway light flickered once when he passed. Thin carpet, pale yellow walls, the faint smell of someone’s instant ramen drifting under a door. He walked toward the elevator.
As he pressed the down button, the door 405 opened.
A girl stepped out. Short black hair with blue tips, oversized hoodie that still couldn’t hide how full her chest was, black leggings, white sneakers. She had earbuds in one ear and was scrolling on her phone with her thumb. She looked up, saw Jaebin, and pulled the earbud out.
“Oh. New guy,” she said. Voice a little rough, like she hadn’t talked in a while.
Jaebin nodded. “Yeah. Jaebin. 403.”
“Yel.” She gave a small wave. “405. You going down?”
“Yeah. Convenience store. Hungry.”
“Same.” She slipped the phone into her hoodie pocket. “Mind if I walk with you? I was just gonna grab air anyway. Been staring at my screen for six hours straight.”
“Sure,” Jaebin said. He tried not to stare at how the hoodie zipper strained a little when she moved.
The elevator dinged. They stepped in. It was small—barely enough room for two people without touching. Yel leaned against the wall opposite him, arms crossed under her chest. Jaebin looked at the floor numbers.
“So,” she said after the doors closed. “You just graduated?”
“Yeah. High school. Moved here today.”
“Big step. Most guys your age would still be at home playing games and eating mom’s food.”
Jaebin laughed once. “That was the plan until I decided I didn’t want to be that guy.”
Yel nodded. “Respect. I moved out at nineteen too. Freelance illustrator now. Pays okay if I don’t sleep.”
“You draw for a living?”
“Mostly webtoons, some album covers, random commissions. Deadlines are evil, though.” She rubbed her eyes. “That’s why I need air. My room smells like coffee and regret.”
The elevator hit ground floor. Doors opened. Cool night air rushed in from the lobby. They walked out together.
The convenience store was only a five-minute walk—bright lights, glass doors, the usual 7-Eleven sign glowing yellow and green. A few cars passed slowly.
Yel pulled her hood up against the breeze. “So what’s your plan? Job? School? Or just… existing?”
“Gap year. Probably get a part-time somewhere soon. Cafe maybe. Or delivery. Something easy.”
“Easy is good at first,” she said. “Don’t burn out. I learned that the hard way. Worked sixteen-hour days for three months straight last year. Almost ended up in the hospital.”
“Damn.”
“Slower pace these days. More coffee, less panic.” She glanced at him sideways. “You look like the type who overthinks everything.”
Jaebin raised an eyebrow. “That obvious?”
“Very. Your shoulders are up to your ears right now.”
He forced them down. “Habit.”
They reached the store. Automatic doors whooshed open.
Yel grabbed a basket. “I’m getting ramyeon and a choco pie. You?”
“Triangle kimbap. Maybe hot bar chicken.”
They split up for a minute. Jaebin picked tuna mayo kimbap and two pieces of fried chicken on a stick. Yel came back with spicy ramyeon cup, a banana milk, and two choco pies.
At the counter, the part-time guy—older, bored—scanned everything without looking up.
Yel paid first. She pulled out her card, then paused. “Hey, new guy. Want me to add your stuff? My treat. Welcome tax.”
Jaebin shook his head fast. “No, no, I can—”
“Too late.” She tapped her card again before he could argue. “Done.”
The cashier handed her the receipt. Yel grabbed both bags and nodded toward the door. “Come on. Let’s eat outside. My room’s too hot and my brain needs to shut off.”
They walked to the small bench in front of the store. Plastic table, two chairs, cigarette butts on the ground. Not fancy, but it had a streetlamp shining right on it.
Yel sat first, crossed her legs. Jaebin sat across from her and opened his kimbap.
She tore the lid off her ramyeon cup, poured hot water from the dispenser inside the store, and put the lid back on. “Three minutes,” she said. “Perfect timer.”
Jaebin bit into the kimbap. Rice, tuna, mayo, seaweed. Simple, good.
Yel watched him eat for a second. “You’re quiet.”
“Still processing the day,” he admitted. “Moved in, met Jihyo next door, now you. Feels fast.”
Yel smirked. “Jihyo-unnie already got to you, huh?”
“She brought red bean buns.”
“Of course she did. She’s the welcome committee. Sweet like that.” Yel stirred her ramyeon with chopsticks. Steam rose up. “She tell you about the floor yet?”
“Yeah. Nine girls. Paizuri Apartment.”
Yel laughed—short, real. “God, that name. We were drunk when we came up with it. Now it stuck.”
She looked at him straight. “You freaked out yet?”
“A little,” he said honestly. “Not bad freaked out. Just… didn’t expect it.”
She took a sip of banana milk. “We’re not a cult or anything. Just… ended up here one by one. Good rent, close to stations, and we all get along. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Drama happens. Small floor, thin walls. But nothing crazy.” She paused. “You’ll meet the rest soon enough. They’re curious about you already.”
Jaebin swallowed. “They know I moved in?”
“Jihyo-unnie texted the group chat five minutes after she left your room. ‘New neighbor. Boy. Nineteen. Cute. Be nice.’”
Yel opened one choco pie and broke it in half. She held out a piece. “Here. Sugar helps with shock.”
He took it. They ate in quiet for a bit. Cars passed. A train rumbled in the distance.
Yel finished her ramyeon, crushed the cup, and leaned back. “Okay. Real talk. You single?”
Jaebin almost dropped his chicken stick. “Uh… yeah. Why?”
“Just checking. Some guys move here thinking it’s paradise, then get weird when girls actually talk to them. I like to know upfront.”
“I’m not… weird,” he said. “I think.”
“Good.” She stood up, stretched. Her hoodie rode up a little, showing a strip of stomach. Jaebin looked away fast.
“I should head back. Got a deadline at midnight.”
“Yeah. Thanks for the food. And… walking together.”
Yel shrugged. “Anytime. If you hear screaming from 405 at 3 a.m., it’s just me arguing with my tablet. Don’t call the cops.”
He grins.
She started walking back toward the apartment. Jaebin grabbed the trash and followed a step behind.
At the elevator, she pressed 4. Doors closed.
“Hey,” she said suddenly.
“Yeah?”
“If you can’t sleep tonight… knock on my door. I’m usually up late. We can share coffee or just sit in silence. No pressure.”
Jaebin nodded slowly. “Okay.”
The elevator dinged. Fourth floor.
Yel stepped out first. “Night, Jaebin.”
“Night, Yel.”
She walked to 405, gave a small salute without turning around, and disappeared inside.
Jaebin stood in the hallway alone for a second. His heart was beating fast again.
He opened his own door, stepped in, locked it.
11:17 PM.
Jaebin was lying on his bed in just boxers and a loose t-shirt, scrolling through his phone with the lights off except for the screen glow. He was tired from unpacking but wired. Too much newness in one day.
His eyes were starting to close when three soft knocks came at the door.
Not loud. Not angry. Just… there.
Jaebin sat up fast. Heart jumped.
“Who…?” he called quietly.
A woman’s voice answered from the other side. Low, smooth, a little husky from the day.
“It’s Eunbi. From 408. Sorry it’s late.”
He scrambled off the bed, pulled on his shorts, checked his hair in the dark mirror by reflex. Then he opened the door a crack.
Eunbi stood in the hallway light.
Long black hair still perfect even after a full day, slight wave at the ends.
Black blazer open over a white blouse that hugged every curve—especially the heavy swell of her breasts pushing against the buttons like they were fighting to get free. Pencil skirt tight on her hips, black stockings, low heels.
She carried a plastic bag from the chicken place two blocks away. Smelled like fried skin and garlic soy.
She smiled. Small, tired, but warm. And something else underneath. Something hungry.
“Hey, new kid,” she said. “Heard you moved in. Thought you might be hungry.”
Jaebin blinked. “Uh… hi. Yeah. I mean—thanks. You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” She lifted the bag a little. Steam still coming off it. “Half yangnyeom, half garlic. Extra spicy because I like it that way. Figured you might too.”
He stepped back. “Come in. It’s… not much, but.”
Eunbi walked past him. Her perfume hit him—something expensive, warm, like vanilla and smoke. She looked around the room, eyes scanning the bare walls, the single bed, the unpacked lamp still in its box.
“Fresh start,” she said, almost to herself. “I remember that feeling.”
She set the bag on the tiny kitchen counter, turned, and leaned back against it. The movement made her blazer fall open more. Jaebin’s eyes flicked down for half a second—couldn’t help it—then snapped back to her face.
She noticed. Didn’t say anything. Just smiled a little wider.
“You’re Jaebin, right? Nineteen?”
“Yeah.”
“Eunbi. Thirty.” She said the number like it was nothing. Thirty years old, but she didn’t look it the way most thirty-year-olds did. “I work at a marketing agency downtown. Long hours. Late nights. Tonight was one of those.”
“You just got home?”
“Fifteen minutes ago. Saw your light under the door. Figured I’d say hi before I crash.”
She reached into the bag, pulled out the chicken box, opened it. The smell filled the room instantly. “Eat with me? I hate eating alone after a day like today.”
Jaebin nodded. “Sure. Let me grab plates.”
“No need.” She pulled out two pairs of disposable chopsticks from the bag. “We can share straight from the box. Less dishes.”
They sat on the floor because the bed felt too weird and there was only one chair. Back against the bed frame, legs stretched out. The chicken was hot, crispy, sauce sticky on fingers. Jaebin took a piece—yangnyeom first. Burned his tongue a little because of the spicy.
Eunbi ate slower. Watched him more than she ate.
“You’re quiet,” she said after a minute.
“I'm eating! But yeah... still taking everything in.”
She laughed softly. “This place does that. Hits you all at once.” She licked a bit of sauce off her thumb.
“You met Jihyo already?”
“Yeah. This afternoon.”
“And Yel?”
“Tonight. Walked to the store.”
Eunbi nodded. “They’re sweet. Young energy. Me… I’m the old one.” She said it with a small shrug, but her eyes said the opposite. “Been here four years. Seen boys come and go.”
“Boys?”
“Neighbors. Roommates. Boyfriends of other girls. Some stay. Most don’t.” She took another piece of chicken, bit into it, chewed slowly. “You planning to stay?”
“I… yeah. Signed for a year.”
“Good.” She looked at him straight. “We like boys who stay.”
Jaebin swallowed hard. The chicken suddenly tasted like nothing.
Eunbi wiped her hands on a napkin, then leaned back on her palms. The blouse pulled tight across her chest. Buttons looked ready to pop. She didn’t fix it.
“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” she said quietly.
“I’m not—”
“You are.” She tilted her head. “It’s okay. I like it.”
Silence stretched. Not uncomfortable. Heavy.
She spoke again. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Jaebin. I came here with chicken, but that’s not the only reason.”
His heart slammed against his ribs.
She kept going, voice low. “I had a shitty day. Boss blown up, clients changing their minds every hour, heels killing my feet. I get home, shower, change… and all I can think about is how long it’s been since someone touched me like they meant it.”
Jaebin couldn’t breathe right.
Eunbi looked at him. No shame. Just want.
“I’m not asking for forever,” she said. “Just tonight. If you want.”
He stared at her. The way her lips were parted a little. The way her chest rose and fell faster now. The way she didn’t look away.
“I…” His voice cracked. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” She reached over, slow, and brushed her fingers along his arm. Light. Testing. “Just nod if you want me to stay. Or tell me to go. No hard feelings.”
Jaebin’s mouth was dry.
He looked at her hand on his arm. Then up at her face. Then down again—at the way her skirt had ridden up just enough to show more thigh.
He nodded once. Small. But clear.
Eunbi’s smile changed. Softer, but sharper too.
“Good boy,” she whispered.
She moved closer. Knees touching now. She leaned in, slow enough he could stop her if he wanted.
He didn’t.
Her lips brushed his. Soft at first. Then deeper. She tasted like garlic soy and heat. Her hand slid to the back of his neck, fingers in his hair. Pulling him closer.
Jaebin’s hands found her waist. Hesitant. Then firmer.
She made a small sound against his mouth. Almost a moan.
When she pulled back, her eyes were dark.
“Bed?” she asked. Voice rough.
“Yeah.”
She stood first. Offered her hand. He took it.
She led him the three steps to the mattress. Pushed him down gently. Then climbed on top, straddling his hips.
Her blazer hit the floor. Blouse buttons came undone one by one. Slow. Teasing.
Jaebin watched, heart racing, hands shaking a little on her thighs.
Eunbi leaned down, lips near his ear.
“Relax,” she murmured. “I’ve got you.”
Her breasts pressed against his chest through the thin fabric left. Heavy. Warm. She rocked her hips once—slow grind.
Jaebin groaned low in his throat.
She smiled against his neck. “That’s it.”
Eunbi’s blouse was gone now, tossed somewhere near the foot of the bed. Her black lace bra looked expensive—thin straps digging into soft shoulders, cups barely containing her.
She reached behind her back with one smooth motion. The clasp popped open. Fabric fell away.
Jaebin’s breath caught hard.
Her breasts were heavy, full, pale skin. Nipples dark and already tight. She didn’t cover up. Just let him look.
“Like what you see?” she asked, voice low and teasing.
He could only nod. Words were gone.
Eunbi smiled—slow, knowing. She slid down his body until she was kneeling between his legs. Her hands found the waistband of his shorts and boxers together. She tugged them down in one pull. His cock sprang free, already hard, tip shiny.
She wrapped her fingers around him once, loose, testing. Jaebin hissed through his teeth.
“Sensitive,” she murmured. “Good.”
She leaned forward. Pressed her breasts together with both arms. The soft weight enveloped him completely—warm, smooth, tight in the best way. She looked up at him through her lashes.
“First time someone’s done this for you?”
Jaebin swallowed. “Yeah.”
“Thought so.” She started moving—slow slide up, slow slide down.
The friction was perfect, slick from a little spit she let drip between her cleavage first. “Just relax. Let me take care of it.”
He tried. He really tried.
Her movements were steady at first. Controlled. Every time the head of his cock disappeared between her tits, she squeezed a little harder. Then released on the way up. Jaebin’s hands fisted the sheets. His hips twitched without permission.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
Eunbi laughed softly. The sound vibrated through her chest, right into him.
“You’re doing good,” she said. “Hold on a little longer if you can.”
But he couldn’t.
The sight of her—hair falling over one shoulder, lips parted, eyes locked on his face while her breasts worked him—was too much. The heat, the softness, the way she looked like she was enjoying it just as much as he was. It built too fast.
“Eunbi—I’m—” His voice cracked. “Gonna—”
“Go ahead,” she whispered. “Right here. Let it happen.”
She sped up just a fraction. Pressed tighter. One hand came up to cup the underside of her own breast, pushing them together even more.
Jaebin’s back arched off the mattress. A low groan ripped out of him.
He came hard—thick ropes spilling across the tops of her breasts, dripping down into the valley between them. Pulse after pulse. His whole body shook with it.
Eunbi didn’t stop moving until he was empty. Then she slowed, milking the last few drops with gentle squeezes. When he finally went soft against her skin, she let go.
Eunbi sat back on her heels. Looked down at the mess he’d made on her chest. She dragged one finger through it—slow—then brought it to her lips and licked it clean. Like it was nothing.
Jaebin stared. Brain still rebooting.
She noticed his expression and laughed—real, warm, a little wicked.
“Surprised?” she asked.
“Yeah. I lasted like… thirty seconds.”
“Fifteen,” she corrected gently. “But who’s counting?”
He covered his face with both hands. “God. That’s embarrassing.”
“No.” Eunbi leaned over him, breasts still glistening, brushing his stomach as she got close. “It’s honest. I like honest.” She kissed his forehead once. Soft. “You were wound up all day. New place, new girls, new everything. Of course you popped fast.”
Jaebin peeked through his fingers. “You’re not… mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” She sat beside him now, one leg tucked under her. “I came here to feel good. You just gave me exactly that. Watching you lose it like that? Hot as hell.”
She reached over, wiped a bit more of his cum off her skin with her finger, then wiped it on the inside of her discarded blouse like it was a napkin. “But tonight’s just this. Titfuck only. No more.”
Jaebin blinked. “Wait… what?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not ready to go all the way yet. Not on night one. I wanted to tease you. Feel you throb between my tits. See your face when you couldn’t hold back. That’s enough for me tonight. Makes me feel powerful. Knowing I can make you come that fast just from my chest. Knowing you’ll be thinking about it every time you see me in the hallway.”
Jaebin groaned again—this time half-embarrassed, half-turned on all over.
Eunbi stood up. Picked up her bra, slipped it back on without cleaning herself first. The lace stuck a little to the wet skin. She didn’t care. Buttoned two buttons on her blouse—enough to cover, but anyone looking close would know.
She walked to the tiny bathroom, wet a tissue, wiped her chest properly this time. Then came back, sat on the edge of the bed.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah. Just… processing.”
“Good.” She touched his cheek once. Thumb stroking lightly. “Get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow. Nine girls on this floor, remember? They’re gonna start circling.”
Jaebin laughed weakly. “I’m already dead.”
She walked to the door.
“Eunbi?”
She paused, hand on the knob.
“Thanks,” he said. “For… everything.”
She looked back. Smiled “Anytime, honey.”
The door clicked shut behind her.
Jaebin lay there in the quiet.
He stared at the ceiling. Fifteen seconds.
Tomorrow was going to be insane.
But tonight?
Tonight, he’d survived Eunbi.
Barely.
Jaebin’s alarm went off at 6:30 AM
He slapped it quiet before it could wake the whole floor. His body felt heavy. Last night replayed in flashes— he groaned into the pillow.
“Get up,” he told himself out loud. “You promised.”
Back home, he’d told his mom he was moving out to be independent.
Part of that promise was no more lazy mornings. He’d start jogging every day. Build habits. Not turn into the guy who gains twenty kilos living alone on instant noodles.
He rolled out of bed. Brushed teeth. Pulled on gray sweatpants, a black hoodie, old running shoes. Looked in the mirror—hair messy, eyes a little red, but alive.
“Okay. You got this.”
He grabbed his phone, earbuds, keys. Opened the door quietly.
And almost walked straight into Eunbi.
She was right there in the hallway, locking 408. Black pencil skirt again, white blouse tucked in tight, blazer over one arm, heels clicking softly as she turned. Hair pulled back in a neat low bun. Makeup perfect. Coffee thermos in one hand.
She froze when she saw him. Then her lips curved—slow, private smile.
“Morning, Jaebin.”
His face went hot in half a second. “M-morning.”
She stepped closer. Close enough he could smell her perfume again—same one from last night. Vanilla and smoke. It hit him like a memory punch.
“You’re up early,” she said. Voice low so it wouldn’t carry.
“Jogging. Promised myself I’d… start working out. Live alone and all.”
Eunbi’s eyes flicked down his body—hoodie, sweatpants, sneakers—then back up. “Good boy. Discipline looks good on you.”
Jaebin swallowed. “You… going to work?”
“Early meeting. Boss wants reports before the rest of the office wakes up.” She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. The movement made her blouse pull tight across her chest.
“Sleep okay?” she asked, innocent tone.
“Yeah. Mostly.”
“Mostly?” She stepped even closer. Her free hand brushed his sleeve—just a graze. “Dream about anything fun?”
He couldn’t look at her eyes. Stared at her collarbone instead. “Maybe.”
Eunbi laughed under her breath. Soft. “Thought so.” She leaned in, lips near his ear. “Next time… maybe I won’t stop at just my tits.”
Jaebin’s knees almost buckled.
She pulled back like nothing happened. “Have a good run. Don’t trip thinking about me.”
She walked past him toward the elevator. He stood there frozen until the doors dinged shut.
“Fuck,” he whispered to the empty hallway.
He shook his head hard, jogged down the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Needed the extra burn.
Outside, the air was cool in the city, not freezing. Streets still quiet. A few delivery bikes zooming by.
Jaebin started slow—jog down the block, past the convenience store where he’d gone with Yel last night, past the small park with the broken benches.
He was on his second lap around the park when he heard footsteps behind him. Steady. Matching his pace.
He glanced over.
Yel.
Hair tied up in a high ponytail today. Black sports bra that left nothing to imagination—her chest bouncing with each step—gray tank top loose over it, black running shorts, sneakers. Earbuds in, but she pulled one out when she caught up.
“New guy,” she said, breathing even. “Didn’t expect company.”
Jaebin slowed a little so they could talk. “You jog too?”
“Every morning I don’t pull an all-nighter. Clears my head. You?”
“First day trying. Promised myself no slacking.”
Yel nodded. “Respect. Most guys say that then quit after three days.”
“I’m not most guys,” he said.
She smirked. “We’ll see.”
They kept pace together. Not racing—just steady. The park loop was maybe 800 meters. Trees bare, leaves crunching underfoot. Sun coming up stronger now, turning everything gold.
After the first full loop, Yel spoke again. “You look… distracted.”
Jaebin almost tripped. “What?”
“Your form’s off. Shoulders tight. Like you’re carrying something heavy.”
He laughed awkwardly. “Just… new place. New everything.”
“Uh-huh.” She side-eyed him. “Or maybe you ran into Eunbi in the hallway?”
His foot caught a crack in the pavement. He stumbled, caught himself.
Yel laughed—short, real. “Knew it. She’s got that effect.”
“She just… said hi. Going to work.”
“Sure she did.” Yel sped up a tiny bit. Jaebin matched her. “She knock on your door last night?”
Jaebin’s face burned again. “Yeah.”
Yel didn’t push. Just kept running. “She’s intense. But good intense. Don’t overthink it.”
“I’m trying.”
They did another lap in silence. Breathing harder now. Sweat starting on his forehead. Yel’s tank top stuck a little to her skin. Her sports bra did nothing to hide how full she was—bouncing with every step. Jaebin forced his eyes forward.
After the third loop, Yel slowed to a walk. Hands on hips. Breathing deep.
“Cool down?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
They walked the last stretch side by side. Park emptying out a little.
Yel wiped sweat from her neck with the hem of her tank. Flash of stomach. Jaebin looked away fast.
“So,” she said. “How was night one? Survive?”
“Barely.”
She grinned. “Eunbi?”
He nodded once.
“Figured. She’s been… restless lately. Work stress. She picks someone to blow off steam with. You’re fresh meat.”
Jaebin rubbed the back of his neck. “She didn’t… we didn’t go all the way. Just…”
Yel raised an eyebrow. “Just?”
He hesitated. Then muttered, “Titjob.”
Yel stopped walking. Looked at him. Then burst out laughing—loud enough a pigeon flew away.
“Oh my god,” she said, still laughing. “Fifteen seconds?”
Jaebin groaned. “She told you?”
“No. But I know her. And I know that look on your face.” She punched his arm lightly. “Don’t be embarrassed. She’s good at that. Really good. Most guys don’t last longer the first time.”
“Still embarrassing.”
“Honest is hot.” She started walking again. “She’ll probably tease you for weeks now. But in a good way.”
They reached the apartment entrance. Both breathing hard, shirts damp.
Yel stopped at the door. “Hey. Same time tomorrow?”
Jaebin nodded. “Yeah. If I don’t die first.”
“You won’t.” She pulled her ponytail tighter. “And if you need to talk about… whatever happens next on this floor… my door’s open. Late nights, remember?”
“Thanks, Yel.”
She gave a small salute. “See you, runner boy.”
She disappeared inside first.
Jaebin stood there a second, maybe minutes. Minding his mind to keep it together, facing whatever things would happen this day.
He finally pushed through the lobby door, wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his hoodie and headed straight for the elevator. Pressed the up button. Doors opened almost right away—empty. Lucky.
He stepped in, leaned against the back wall, and hit 4. The doors started closing slow.
Halfway shut, a hand shot out to stop them.
The doors bounced back open.
And Jaebin turned just in time to walk face-first into soft, warm pressure.
His nose and cheek smooshed right into the biggest, softest pair of breasts he’d ever felt in his life.
He froze. Completely. Couldn’t even pull back right away because the elevator was still small and she was filling most of the doorway.
“Oh my god—sorry! Are you hurt?”
The voice was soft. Gentle. Almost baby-like, but deeper, like someone who spoke quietly on purpose.
Jaebin stumbled back one step, face flaming. “N-no! I’m fine! I’m the one who—sorry!”
He finally looked up.
Chaeyeon.
Twenty-three, but her face looked younger—round cheeks, big doe eyes, small nose, lips naturally pink and full. Cute in that innocent way that made you want to protect her. Except her body was anything but innocent.
Tall—maybe 170 cm—wide shoulders, thick thighs in black leggings, oversized white t-shirt that did zero to hide how massive her chest was. Bigger than Yel’s. Bigger than Jihyo’s. Bigger even than Eunbi’s.
She had one hand still holding the door open, the other clutching a tote bag full of what looked like groceries—bananas, a carton of milk, a bag of rice cakes.
“I didn’t see you turning,” she said, voice still soft, worried. “Are you okay? Your face hit pretty hard.”
Jaebin rubbed his nose. It didn’t hurt. Just… stunned. “Yeah, I’m good. Really. My fault. I was spacing out.”
Chaeyeon stepped fully inside now. The elevator doors finally closed behind her. She pressed 4 too, even though it was already lit.
She looked down at him, “You’re the new guy, right? Jaebin?”
“Yeah. Moved in yesterday.”
She smiled—small, shy, but real. Dimples appeared. “I’m Chaeyeon. 406. I heard about you from Jihyo last night. She said you’re nice.”
Jaebin laughed once, nervous. “She said that?”
“Mhm. And that you blush easy.” Chaeyeon tilted her head. “She wasn’t wrong.”
His ears burned hotter. “I… yeah. Guilty.”
The elevator hummed upward. Slow. Too slow.
Chaeyeon shifted her tote to the other arm. The movement made her chest jiggle—once, heavy, impossible to ignore. Jaebin’s eyes flicked down for half a second then snapped back to the floor numbers.
She noticed. Didn’t say anything about it. Just spoke softer.
“You were jogging?”
“Yeah. Trying to start a routine. Don’t want to get lazy living alone.”
“That’s good.” She nodded seriously. “I like morning walks. Not running—my knees complain—but walking helps me think. I’m a barista. Early shifts. I walk to the cafe sometimes instead of taking the bus.”
“Which cafe?”
“Little one near the station. The one with the cat logo. I make the lattes.”
“I’ll have to stop by sometime.”
“You should.” Her smile got a little bigger. “I can make yours extra pretty. Hearts in the foam and everything.”
Jaebin smiled back, “Sounds good.”
The elevator dinged. Fourth floor.
Doors opened.
Chaeyeon stepped out first. Jaebin followed.
She turned toward 406. Paused. Looked back at him.
“Hey… um…”
“Yeah?”
“If your nose really hurts later… or if you just want ice or something… knock on my door, okay? I have a freezer full of gel packs. And cookies. Fresh ones. I baked last night.”
Jaebin blinked. “You bake too?”
“Mhm. Stress baking. Helps me relax after long shifts.” She hugged the tote closer to her chest—again, the shirt stretched. Jaebin tried very hard to keep eye contact. “So… yeah. Door’s always open. I forget to lock it sometimes.”
“That’s… not safe.”
“I know.” She laughed quietly. “But the girls on this floor look out for each other. And now you too, I guess.”
Jaebin nodded slowly. “Thanks, Chaeyeon.”
She gave a little wave—fingers wiggling cute. “See you around, Jaebin. Careful with doors next time.”
She walked to 406. Unlocked it with one hand. Glanced back once more—smile soft, eyes warm—then disappeared inside.
Jaebin stood there for a second. Hallway quiet except for the faint sound of music from someone’s room. Probably Yel again.
He touched his nose. Still no pain. Just the memory of softness pressing against his face.
“God,” he muttered under his breath. “They keep getting bigger.”
He walked the few steps to 403. Unlocked his door. Stepped in.
Closed it.
Leaned against the wood for a second.
Jaebin had just finished a quick lunch—ramyeon from the cupboard, one egg cracked in, green onion he’d chopped with a dull knife.
He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, back against the bed, scrolling through job listings on his phone. Part-time café work, delivery gigs, anything that didn’t require experience or a degree.
Three quick knocks.
He looked up. “Yeah?”
Door opened without waiting for more. Yel poked her head in.
“Hey, neighbor. Not busy, right?”
Jaebin sat up straighter. “Uh—no. Just eating leftovers. Come in.”
She stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind her. She was in comfy mode now, oversized gray hoodie, same one from yesterday, zipper halfway down, black bike shorts, fuzzy socks.
No makeup, hair a little messy from whatever she’d been doing all morning. She looked smaller like this. More approachable. Less intimidating.
“Smells like spicy ramyeon in here,” she said, sniffing the air. “Classic broke college kid meal.”
“I’m not in college yet,” he reminded her.
“Same difference.” She walked over, plopped down on the floor right next to him without asking. She leaned back on her hands and stretched her legs out.
“Ugh. Brain is fried. Been staring at line art for four hours straight. Needed a break before I start deleting everything in rage.”
Jaebin closed his phone screen. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just… need human contact that isn’t a tablet stylus.” She turned her head toward him. Grinned. “So here I am. Your official chill buddy for the next thirty minutes. Or until my client messages me again.”
He laughed—small, surprised. “I’m honored.”
“You should be.” She nudged his knee with hers. Playful. “So. How’s day two treating you? Survived the morning jog, bumped into anyone interesting?”
His face heated instantly. “You mean Chaeyeon?”
Yel’s eyes lit up. “Ohhh, you already met the big titty goddess? Spill.”
“She was coming out of the elevator. I turned too fast. Face-planted into her… yeah.”
Yel cackled, head tipping back. “She’s got those things like airbags. You okay? Nose still working?”
“Barely,” he muttered. “She was super nice about it though. Offered ice and cookies.”
“Of course she did. Chaeyeon’s the mom of the floor. Always feeding people, always worrying.” Yel stretched her arms over her head. The hoodie rode up a little, showing a thin strip of stomach. Jaebin looked at the wall fast. “She’s sweet. You’ll like her. Everyone does.”
“Yeah. She seems… calm.”
“Unlike me.” Yel dropped her arms and scooted even closer. Now their thighs were touching. She didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she did and didn’t care.
“I’m the chaotic one. Youngest too. Always have been. Grew up with three older sisters who bossed me around. So, I never got to be the big sister. Sucks.”
Jaebin glanced at her. “You want to be a big sister?”
“Little brother, actually.” She said it casual.
“I mean, I’m twenty-one. Still the baby in my family. No one to look after. No one to tease or protect or feed ramyeon to when they’re sad.”
She looked at him sideways. “You’re nineteen. Prime little brother material.”
He blinked. “Wait. You’re adopting me?”
“Unofficially. Yeah.” She reached over and ruffled his hair—messy from the jog, still damp from the shower. “You’re cute when you’re flustered. And you don’t talk back much. Perfect dongsaeng.”
Jaebin’s heart did a weird flip. Not the horny kind like with Eunbi last night. Something softer. Warmer. He actually liked how close she was sitting. The easy way she talked. The teasing without meanness.
“I… don’t mind,” he said quietly.
Yel’s grin softened into something real. “Good. Because I’m gonna bug you a lot now. Bring you snacks. Steal your charger. Complain about deadlines at 2 a.m. Standard little-sister torture, but reversed.”
He smiled, “I can live with that.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder—just for a second, testing. Then lifted it again. “You’re comfy. This is dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
“You’re gonna get used to me being here. Then I’ll never leave.” She laughed, “Anyway. Tell me something. What do you do when you’re not jogging or getting smothered by Chaeyeon’s assets?”
Jaebin thought for a second. “Play games. Mostly single-player stuff. Sometimes I draw a little. Nothing good.”
“You draw?” Her eyes brightened. “Show me.”
“It’s trash—”
“Show me anyway. Big sister orders.”
He hesitated, then grabbed his sketchbook from under the bed. Flipped to a page—a rough pencil sketch of a city skyline at night, some mecha robot concept he’d doodled last month.
Yel took the book. Studied it seriously. No teasing this time.
“Not bad,” she said after a minute. “Line work’s clean. Perspective’s off here—” she pointed with her pinky “—but you’ve got style. You should do more.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Haven’t had time.”
“You’ve got time now.” She handed the book back. “I’ll drag you into my freelance hell sometime. We can draw together. Misery loves company.”
Jaebin nodded. “Sounds like a deal.”
They sat quiet for a bit. Not awkward quiet. Comfortable. Yel picked at a loose thread on her hoodie sleeve. Jaebin finished the last of his ramyeon.
“You know,” she said suddenly, “I’m glad you moved in. This floor was getting… estrogen heavy. Needed some guy energy. Even if you’re a shy baby.”
“I’m not that shy.”
“You’re blushing right now.”
“Shut up.”
She laughed again, then she stood up, stretched tall, “Okay. Break over. Gotta go finish these panels before my editor hunts me down.”
She walked to the door, paused with her hand on the knob. “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“Come over later if you want. Like… dinner time. I make tteokbokki. Not promising it won’t be spicy enough to kill you, but.”
Jaebin smiled. “I like spicy.”
“My guy.” She winked. “See you, little bro.”
The door clicked shut.
Jaebin sat there alone again. Room felt bigger without her in it. Emptier.
He touched the top of his head where she’d ruffled his hair.
Little brother.
He didn’t hate it.
Not even a little.
Evening, around 7:40 PM.
The sun had dropped behind the taller buildings an hour ago, leaving the sky a deep purple streaked with orange.
Jaebin pushed open the small sliding door to his balcony—a tiny concrete ledge barely big enough for one chair and a dying potted plant the last tenant left behind.
He stepped out in just his loose t-shirt and shorts, barefoot, the cool evening air hitting his skin right away.
He leaned on the metal railing and looked out. The city skyline wasn’t anything special from this angle—mostly mid-rise apartments, neon signs from the convenience stores below, the red blinking light on top of a distant office tower. Trains rattled by every few minutes, lights streaking like slow comets. It felt somehow... peaceful, despite whatever happens today.
He exhaled slow. “This place is insane,” he muttered to no one.
His eyes wandered left along the building’s facade. The balconies were staggered—some had laundry hanging, some had plants, most had nothing.
Four rooms from his, maybe room 407 or 408, a light was on behind thin white curtains. Not fully closed. A gap maybe ten centimeters wide.
He didn’t mean to stare. He really didn’t.
But movement caught his eye.
A girl stepped into view.
She was facing away at first—long straight black hair down her back, slim waist, wearing only light gray panties that hugged her hips. No bra. No top. Bare.
That’s Jeewon—he didn’t know her name yet, but that’s who it was.
She reached up with both arms, stretching like she’d been sitting all day. Her back arched. And then her breasts came into full side view as she turned slightly toward the window.
Big.
Not just big—full, round, heavy in that natural way that made them sway a little even with the smallest movement. Nipples dark against the paleness, already perked from the cool.
Jaebin’s throat went dry.
She didn’t notice him. Or if she did, she didn’t care.
She bent forward to pick something up from the floor—a fresh white tank top maybe—and the motion made everything bounce once.
Jaebin gripped the railing harder. His heart started hammering like it had last night with Eunbi, but this was different.
This wasn’t invited. This was accidental. Wrong to watch. But he couldn’t look away.
Jeewon straightened up. Slipped the tank top over her head, caught for a second on her chest, she had to tug it down twice.
When it finally settled, it clung tight, outlining every curve, the material so thin he could still see her nipples underneath.
She turned more toward the window then. Facing out.
Jaebin froze.
She was pretty—sharp jawline, full lips, eyes that looked tired but bright. Maybe twenty-two, twenty-three or maybe older. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. Then she walked closer to the sliding door, like she was checking something outside.
Her eyes scanned the balconies.
And landed right on him.
Jaebin’s stomach dropped.
For one long second they just stared at each other across the gap—him on his tiny ledge, her inside her lit room, tank top stretched tight over those impossible breasts.
She didn’t scream. Didn’t cover up. Didn’t even look mad.
Instead, one corner of her mouth lifted. Small smirk.
She raised one hand—slow—waved once. Casual. Like she was saying hi to a neighbor she’d seen a hundred times.
Jaebin lifted his hand automatically. Waved back. Awkward. Face burning so hot he thought it might glow.
Jeewon tilted her head. Then she reached up again—both hands this time—cupped the undersides of her breasts through the tank top for a second, lifted them slightly like she was adjusting, then let go.
She is teasing.
Jaebin’s mouth opened. No sound came out.
She laughed—soft, muffled through the glass—and mouthed something he couldn’t hear. Probably “sorry” or “oops” or maybe just “hi.”
Then she reached over, slid her curtain the rest of the way closed.
The light stayed on behind it, silhouette faint now.
Jaebin stood there another full minute. Breathing shallow. Cock half-hard in his shorts without him even realizing it had happened.
He finally stepped back inside. Closed his sliding door. Locked it like that would erase what just happened.
He dropped onto the bed. Stared at the ceiling.
“Who the hell was that?” he whispered.
He didn’t know her name. Didn’t know her room number for sure. But he knew one thing:
She’d seen him looking.
And she hadn’t minded. Not one bit.
Jaebin was still on the bed, blanket half over his head, trying to calm his pulse after what he’d just seen on the balcony.
He kept telling himself it was an accident. She probably didn’t even mean for him to see. Probably.
Three soft knocks.
He sat up fast. Heart jumped again.
“Yeah?” he called, voice rough.
The door opened without him getting up. Just cracked enough for her to slip through.
It was her.
Jeewon.
Smaller body than he expected up close—maybe 160 cm, slim shoulders, narrow waist, legs that looked long for her height in tiny sleep shorts.
But her chest… the white tank top was thin cotton, stretched so tight across her breasts that the fabric looked ready to tear at the seams. No bra underneath. Nipples pressed against the tank top.
Every breath made them shift. She closed the door behind her with her back, hands behind her like she was nervous but not really.
“Hi,” she said a little playful. “I’m Jeewon. 407. Saw you staring from your balcony.”
Jaebin’s mouth went dry. “I—I didn’t mean to—”
She laughed quietly and stepped closer. Bare feet on his floor. “It’s okay. I left the curtain open on purpose. Wanted to see if the new guy would look.”
He stared. Couldn’t help it. Her tits were right there, inches away now, heaving gently with each step. Bigger up close. Rounder. The tank top rode up a little at the bottom, showing a sliver of underboob.
She stopped at the edge of his bed. Looked down at him sitting there in his shorts and t-shirt, blanket bunched around his waist.
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” she said. “Blushing again.”
Jaebin rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I just… moved in yesterday. Everything’s a lot.”
“I get it.” She sat on the edge of the mattress without asking. Close enough that her thigh touched his. “This floor can be overwhelming. Nine of us. All… friendly. You’ve met a few already?”
“Yeah. Jihyo, Yel, Eunbi last night, Chaeyeon this morning.”
Jeewon’s eyes sparkled. “Eunbi already? She moves fast.” She leaned in a little. Her chest brushed his arm—soft, warm pressure through the tank top. “Did she let you finish between her tits?”
Jaebin choked on air. “How—”
“Figures.” She smiled wider. “And she texted the group chat. ‘New boy popped quick. So sweet.’ Don’t worry. We all think it’s hot.”
He covered his face with both hands. “Kill me now.”
Jeewon giggled—soft, real. She pulled his hands down gently. Her fingers were small, cool.
“Hey,” she said. “Look at me.”
He did.
She was close now. Face inches from his. Lips full, glossed a little. Eyes dark and steady.
“I came over because I wanted to say hi properly,” she whispered. “And maybe… help you relax. You looked tense out there on the balcony.”
“I’m… fine.”
“You’re hard,” she said simply.
Jaebin glanced down. His shorts were tented obviously. No hiding it.
Jeewon’s hand moved slow. Palm flat on his thigh first. Then higher. She cupped him through the fabric—gentle squeeze.
He hissed.
“See?” she murmured. “You need this.”
She slid off the bed, knelt between his legs on the floor, her chest pressing against his knees as she leaned in.
She hooked her fingers in his waistband. Tugged shorts and boxers down together. His cock sprang free—hard, leaking at the tip already.
Jeewon licked her lips once. “Nice.”
She didn’t waste time.
One hand wrapped around the base—small fingers barely meeting. The other cupped his balls lightly. Then she leaned forward.
Her mouth was warm. Wet. She took him in slow—halfway first, tongue flat against the underside. Jaebin groaned low, head falling back against the wall.
She hummed around him. The vibration shot straight up his spine.
She started moving—slow bobs at first, lips tight, cheeks hollowing when she pulled back. Every time she went down deeper. Throat relaxed. No gag. Just smooth, steady suction.
Jaebin’s hands fisted the sheets. “Fuck… Jeewon…”
She pulled off for a second—just to breathe. A thin string of spit connected her lips to the tip.
“You can touch my hair if you want,” she said. Voice husky now. “Or my tits. Whatever feels good.”
He hesitated. Then reached down. One hand in her hair—soft, straight strands slipping through his fingers. The other… he cupped one breast through the tank top. Heavy. Overflowed his palm. He squeezed gently.
She moaned around his cock when he did that.
She sped up. Head moving faster. Hand stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach. Wet sounds filled the small room—sloppy, obscene.
Jaebin’s hips started moving on their own. Small thrusts. She took it. Let him fuck her mouth shallow.
“Jeewon—I’m close—”
She didn’t pull off. Just looked up at him—eyes watering a little from the depth, but steady. Nodded once. Keep going.
He groaned louder. Hand tightening in her hair. The other squeezed her breast harder—felt the nipple harden under his thumb through the fabric.
It hit fast.
He came with a choked sound—thick pulses straight down her throat. She swallowed around him. Kept sucking gentle until he was empty, twitching, oversensitive.
When she finally pulled off, she licked her lips. Clean. Wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb. Smiled up at him.
“Better?” she asked.
He could only nod. Brain fried.
She stood up. Tank top still clinging to her curves—nipples hard points now. She leaned down, kissed his forehead once. Soft.
“Welcome to the floor, Jaebin,” she whispered. “If you ever want more… knock on 407. Door’s open.”
She walked to the door. Paused with her hand on the knob.
“And next time you see me changing… feel free to watch longer. I like being seen.”
The door clicked shut behind her.
Jaebin lay there. Shorts still around his thighs.
He stared at the ceiling.
Day two.
And he still hadn’t met everyone.
11:03 PM.
Jaebin was half-asleep on his bed, phone on his chest, screen dark.
A knock. Not soft. Not polite. Three hard raps, then the doorknob rattled like someone was trying it without waiting.
He sat up fast. “Who—?”
The door pushed open before he finished.
Eunbi.
She stumbled in, heels clicking uneven on the floor. Black dress—short, tight, one strap slipping off her shoulder. Hair messy now, bun half-undone, strands sticking to her flushed cheeks. Makeup smudged under her eyes. She smelled like soju, sweet fruit mixer, and cigarette smoke from whatever bar she’d been at.
She kicked the door shut with her heel. Missed the first time. Tried again. Got it.
“Jaebin-ah,” she slurred, voice thicker than usual. She leaned back against the door for support. Breasts pushed up high in the low neckline, almost spilling out.
Jaebin stood up slow. “You okay? You’re drunk.”
“Very.” She laughed—short, bitter. Pushed off the door and wobbled toward him.
Almost tripped over his sneakers on the floor. He caught her elbow quick.
“Easy,” he said.
She looked up at him. Eyes glassy, pupils big. “You’re sweet. Always catching me.”
He guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. She dropped heavy, thighs spreading a little under the dress. Skirt rode up high enough to show lace panties—black, sheer in the middle.
“Why didn’t you go to your room?” he asked.
“Key… somewhere.” She patted her small purse, then gave up. “And I didn’t want to be alone. Not tonight.”
Jaebin crouched in front of her so they were eye level. “You need water? Or coffee? I can make instant.”
Eunbi shook her head slow. Reached out, cupped his cheek with one warm hand. Thumb brushed his lip.
“No water. No coffee.” Her voice dropped lower. “There’s only one thing that sobers me up fast.”
He swallowed. “What?”
She leaned in. Breath hot against his ear. “Eat my pussy.”
Jaebin froze.
She pulled back just enough to look at his face. Smiled crooked. “Don’t look shocked. You already know I’m not shy.”
“I… yeah. But you’re drunk.”
“Drunk, not dead.” She spread her legs wider. Dress bunched at her hips now. Panties visible—wet spot already darkening the sheer panel. “I’ve been thinking about your tongue all night. Bar was boring. Guys staring at my tits, buying drinks, talking shit. I kept picturing your mouth instead.”
Jaebin’s heart slammed. Cock twitched in his shorts.
Eunbi noticed. Reached down, palmed him through the fabric. Slow rub. “See? You want it too.”
He didn’t deny it.
She hooked one finger under her panties, pulled them to the side. Shaved smooth. Lips swollen, glistening. She was soaked.
“Come here,” she whispered. “Please.”
Jaebin hesitated one more second. Then knelt between her thighs.
She leaned back on her elbows. Watched him.
He started slow—kissed the inside of her thigh first. Soft skin. She shivered. Then higher. Nosed along her slit, breathing her in—musky, sweet from the alcohol still on her skin.
Eunbi sighed. “Good boy.”
He licked once—flat tongue from bottom to top. Tasted salt and heat. She moaned low, hips lifting a little.
“More,” she said. Voice rough now.
He gave her more. Tongue circling her clit—slow at first, then faster. Sucked gently. She gasped. One hand went to his hair, fingers twisting.
“Fuck… just like that.”
He pressed harder. Tongue dipping inside her, then back to her clit. Two fingers slid in easy—she was dripping. Curled them up, found that spot. Rubbed steady while his mouth worked her.
Eunbi’s breathing turned ragged. Thighs started shaking around his head.
“Don’t stop,” she panted. “Don’t you dare stop.”
He didn’t.
She came fast—back arching, moan loud enough the thin walls probably carried it. Walls clenched around his fingers. Wetness flooded his mouth. He kept licking through it, gentle now, until she pushed his head away weakly.
“Too much… too sensitive…”
Jaebin pulled back. Lips shiny. Chin wet.
Eunbi lay there panting. Chest rising and falling hard. Dress straps both off her shoulders now. Breasts almost fully out.
She looked down at him. Smiled—lazy, satisfied.
“See?” she said. “Sober now.”
Jaebin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You sure?”
“Clear as day.” She sat up slow. Pulled him up by his shirt. Kissed him deep—tasted herself on his tongue. Moaned into his mouth.
When she pulled away, her eyes were sharper. Less glassy.
“Better than coffee,” she murmured.
She stood up. Wobbled once. Steady. Fixed her dress—barely. Panties still crooked.
“I should go to my room now,” she said. “Before I decide to stay and ride you until morning.”
Jaebin’s cock throbbed at the words. He didn’t argue.
Eunbi leaned down. Kissed his forehead. Then his lips again—soft this time.
“Thank you, Jaebin-ah. For not sending me away.”
She walked to the door. Paused.
“Tomorrow… maybe I return the favor. Properly.”
The door clicked shut.
Jaebin sat on the floor where he’d knelt. Tasted her still on his tongue. Heart racing.
He looked at the clock. 11:27 p.m.
Day two still wasn’t over.
But he was exhausted.
He stripped off his shirt. Crawled under the blanket.
He closed his eyes.
Dreams were going to be wild tonight.
part 2
a/n: inspired by @mistyrani's The Apartment series. Don't forget to check that out, that's great series!
19.3k words
—————
You’ve told him ‘no’ three different ways before you even get in the car.
The first is polite: soft voice, palms up, the whole ‘hey man, appreciate it but I’m good’ routine. The second is practical—readings you haven’t done, an early class you can’t skip again, and a body that reacts to alcohol like it’s a personal insult. And the third is just you finally being honest, because you’ve learned that sometimes, you have to be blunt or he’ll treat your boundaries like polite suggestions.
“I’m not drinking,” you insist, and you’re dead serious about it. “And I don’t want to go clubbing.”
Of course, your friend, Wonbin, casually smiles like you’ve said something adorable.
He’s leaning against the driver side of his car, the kind that looks like it was designed to be photographed outside of hotels. Clean lines, dark paint, the Mercedes silver arrow discreet but still loud. His shirt is black and fitted in a way that makes you suspect it’s luxury just because it refuses to wrinkle. The watch on his wrist is one of those sleek, quiet things that probably costs the same as your tuition down payment, but he wears it like it’s just what happens when you’re born into money.
He doesn’t say your name. He never does when he’s trying to win.
“You never let me do anything nice for you,” he says.
“Because your definition of ‘nice’ is—whatever this is.”
You’re gesturing at the car, the downtown skyline glowing from a distance, the way even the air here smells different already: less cheap food and exhaust, more cologne and polished stone.
Wonbin laughs, low and easy. “Okay, and how many times have I let you do nice things for me?”
“That’s not—”
“Oh, it is.” He pushes off the car and steps closer, grin turning sharp around the edges. “Thesis. Relationship advice. You literally stayed up with me until four a.m. to rewrite my methodology section because I was ‘stressed.’”
“I did not rewrite—”
“You rewrote,” he says, like it’s already settled in court. “And you did it without asking for anything. Not even a ‘buy me coffee.’ You’re allergic to being owed, which is cute, but also annoying. So. Tonight is me returning overdue favors.”
Your own outfit suddenly feels like it’s being judged by the city itself: jeans, sneakers, a shirt you got on sale because it was the cleanest thing on top of the pile, topped by a coat you typically save for campus presentations. You look like a guy who belongs in a library, or a cafeteria line, or sitting on a mono block chair outside a coffee truck scrolling on low battery.
You do not look anywhere like you belong wherever he’s taking you.
“I can’t even afford to breathe in that place,” you tell him. “Also, I’m not drinking.”
He tilts his head, eyes glittering. “Who said you have to drink?”
“You did. You literally said, ‘Let’s go get drinks.’”
“Marketing,” he corrects. “It’s called marketing. I’m selling you an experience. There will be other beverages.”
You glare at him until he sighs dramatically, like you’re the one being difficult.
“Fine,” he starts again. “Let me be honest. This is not a ‘random’ night. I’ve had this date marked for months.”
That's new. Wonbin can be impulsive at times, yes, but he’s also the type to treat his life like a calendar invite: everything curated, everything done with reason.
“You marked a club night on your calendar,” you repeat, just to make sure you've heard him correctly.
“Idol Night,” he answers, and he says it like you should already know what that is. Like it’s a national holiday.
You blink. “Idol—as in—”
“As in yes. K-pop idols.” His smile widens, pleased with himself, like the whole concept was his vision. “And before you start, no, you can’t Google it. You won’t find it. That’s the whole point.”
God, if only you can just eject yourself from his car. You could still walk away the responsible one, the boring one, the guy who goes home and washes dishes and sets alarms like life is a series of small, careful choices. Maybe you can refuse and he’d sulk for maybe an hour and then buy you something as a peace offering and you’d both pretend this never happened.
But then he reiterates, quietly: “You’ve never let me return anything.”
And you hate when he says it, because it’s true. He’s not wrong; you’ve always been the friend who helps and shrugs it off and says it’s fine, and part of you—some tiny, inconvenient part—knows that maybe letting someone do something for you isn’t a crime.
So you exhale, long and resigned to his schedule.
“Fine,” you finally concede. “But I’m leaving early.”
His beam is triumphant. “Perfect. You can leave early. After the performance.”
“You’re negotiating,” you say.
“I’m already winning,” he replies immediately, and opens the passenger door like you’re stepping into a different life for the night.
He slides into the driver’s seat like it’s home. You buckle up like you’re bracing for impact.
As you pull away from the main highway and into the downtown district, the buildings grow taller and shinier and less forgiving. Streetlights reflect off glass walls. The sidewalks are wide, clean, almost sterile—like they’re designed more for walking with purpose than lingering. You pass restaurants with menus you can’t pronounce and storefronts that display a single handbag bathed in spotlight like art pieces in a museum.
Your friend drives one-handed, relaxed. He taps the steering wheel with a ringed finger, humming along to a song you’ve put him on, one of the few things from your world he'll indulge in, and you try not to think about how easy everything looks from his point of view.
“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going exactly?" you ask, knowing there's no answer waiting on the other end.
“You’ll see."
“That’s not comforting.”
“It’s not supposed to be comforting,” he replies, and then, softer, like he’s letting you in on a secret: “It’s supposed to be special.”
You can't help but snort. “You sound like an ad.”
“I am an ad,” he continues. “For a lifestyle you refuse to try. Tonight, you’re my target market.”
You lean your head against the window and watch the city smear into light. Tell yourself you’ll stay for an hour. 90 minutes, tops. Sip whatever non-alcoholic thing he shoves at you, clap politely, pretend you know what to do with your hands, and then you’ll slip out before midnight, before anyone expects you to be the kind of guy who stays.
Before you start to feel like you belong.
—————
The club is nestled inside a building that doesn’t look it was designed for partying.
There’s no neon sign screaming for attention. No decadent posters. No hourlong or more queue of sweaty people in heels, rushed makeup, and tight shirts. From a distance, it’s almost anonymous: dark facade, clean edges, a discreet entrance framed by a pair of men in black suits who stand too still to be set decoration. Wonbin pulls up without slowing, and the valet steps forward like he’s been waiting specifically for this car.
He gets out first. You follow, and immediately feel underdressed in a way that’s almost physical, like your shirt is suddenly itchy and your sneakers are a joke everyone can hear.
The exchange is smooth, silent, practiced. Wonbin doesn’t even look back as he hands over the keys; he simply turns to you and says, “Don’t look terrified.”
“I’m not terrified,” you lie, feeling the pressure emanating from the guards waiting at the front door.
The reflection in the glossy black of the building’s paneling mirrors an image of a life that clearly doesn't belong anywhere near this place. Your hair looks slightly disheveled from a half-assed comb, your posture looking too careful, your whole vibe screaming tryhard who barely touches grass and takes Overwatch seriously.
Then you glance at Wonbin: perfect fit, crisp lines, hair styled like he woke up exactly like this. He doesn’t carry himself like he’s trying to impress anyone; he carries himself like he owns the world and he’s just letting himself wherever he wants.
One of the suited men nods at him. “Good evening.”
He nods back, casual, like he's greeting you. “Evening.”
There are no ID checks. No public pat-downs. It’s all quieter than that, more private. One of them glances at you, scanning—not rude, not friendly, just assessing—like you’re a piece of luggage he's brought along. Wonbin drapes an arm over your shoulders and steers you toward the entrance with the kind of possession he thinks is funny and would make others feel degraded.
“He’s with me,” he remarks, and the man immediately looks away, as if your status has been decided with his mere word.
Regardless, you step to his rhythm.
Inside, the lobby is dim and smells faintly like expensive candles and exotic perfume. And boy, do they really want to make it appear exclusive.
Floors tiled in black marble. Gold accents. A chandelier that glitters without trying too hard. The music isn’t pounding nor deafening yet like other clubs; it’s a low thrum, a steady heartbeat under the walls, as if the building is keeping its energy contained on purpose.
A woman at a podium smiles at your friend, and her smile changes when she recognizes him: wider, warmer, personal.
“Welcome back," she says.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Wonbin replies, casual.
Her eyes flick over to you, the elephant in the room. “And your guest?”
“He’s family,” he insists, and you almost choke because what the fuck—
But she just nods and grins gently, like that explains everything.
As you approach the elevator, she steps ahead of you, a hand already stretched out with expectance. “Phones, please.”
You hesitate, tugging on your slacks’ pocket.
Wonbin pulls his phone out immediately and places it in a velvet-lined tray that appears like magic on the podium. “House rules.”
The woman offers you the tray.
First you look at your half-sheathed phone, then at Wonbin. This might be your last chance to balk while you still have a pulse.
“No cameras,” he reminds you, lifting a brow. “Strictly. They’ll cover the lenses if you insist on keeping it, but it’s easier to just—comply.”
Comply. That word bothers you more than it normally does. It’s said so casually, like being told what to do is part of the luxury. Like you're about to step into a world not meant for prying or innocent eyes.
Ultimately, you concede and hand over your phone.
The woman slips both phones into slim black pouches that lock with a click you feel in your teeth. She attaches a small numbered tag to your friend’s keyring. “You’ll retrieve them when you leave.”
“See?” Wonbin mumbles as you step forward. “Undocumented. Unrecorded. No paparazzi, no leaks. Everyone here likes their privacy.”
“Or they like doing things they don’t want people to know about,” you reply.
He looks over at you, amused. “Same thing.”
An elevator waits behind another set of doors. A guard taps a keycard. The doors slide open, and you step inside with your friend and two others: a man in a suit that fits like a weapon, and a woman in a dress that looks like it was poured onto her.
Nobody makes small talk. Here, noise feels like a crime.
The elevator rises without fanfare. With each passing number on the panel, your stomach does that little drop it does when you realize you’re somewhere above your pay grade.
When the doors open again, the club unfolds like a hub for some kind of top secret gathering.
It’s not one room, but a series of spaces, each more controlled than the last. The hallway is lined with dark velvet. A lounge is lit by low amber lamps. There's a bar that gleams like a supercar showroom. In the surrounding areas, private booths are separated by sheer curtains that hide faces but not silhouettes.
And beyond it all, past another set of doors—you see the main hall.
It’s a wide, tiered space with a stage at the far end, framed by gold trim and dark screens. Lights hang overhead like suspended constellations. Tables circle the dance floor, each one stocked with bottles that probably cost more than your monthly allowance. More importantly, the people here are dressed like they’re attending a proper event and not spending a casual night out: businessmen decked out in watches that catch the light when they lift a glass, women with jewelry that sparkles like it’s breathing. Young men with perfect hair and bored expressions, rich kids close to your age with sharp smiles and soft hands, the kind who treat money like background noise. Celebrities you recognize but can’t place fast enough, their faces half-hidden in shadow, notable figures who have no business being here, whose presence is its own scandal.
You pause at the threshold because your brain is trying to process the idea that a place like this exists in the same city where you buy street food with coins and complain about traffic like it’s a personality trait.
Of course, Wonbin is familiar around these parts. He moves through the place like it’s his own living room.
A staff member approaches immediately: black uniform, earpiece, posture trained to look attentive without being intrusive.
“Table for two,” he says to the guy, and he doesn’t even have to show anything. The staff member already knows. Already gestures.
You follow, trying not to look like you’re staring at anything for longer than a few seconds.
“Can we sit somewhere—less—” you suggest, but the words gradually die in your mouth.
“Less what?” he asks.
“Less visible,” you force out, almost choking.
Wonbin laughs. “You’re adorable.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is the answer."
Wonbin leads you to a table with a clear view of the stage, close enough that you could see facial expressions, but far enough that you’re not in the splash zone of attention.
You sit carefully, like the chair might charge you for being nervous. A server appears with menus that feel too heavy for what they contain. Wonbin doesn’t bother to open his.
“Whiskey,” he says, having already made his order the moment he took his first step inside. “Neat.”
You open yours, eyes skimming past prices you refuse to read fully because they’ll insult you for simply existing.
“And for you?” the server asks.
You look up, avoiding eye contact. “Um—soda?”
Wonbin's mouth twitches. The server doesn’t blink. “Certainly. Any preference?”
“Whatever’s—normal,” you answer, immediately regretting saying it because what does that even mean here.
The server nods like 'normal' is a brand. “Of course.”
When the server leaves, Wonbin leans back and stretches his arm over the back of his chair, relaxed. He looks at you like you’re tonight's entertainment.
“See? No drinking required,” he says.
“You’re drinking.”
“I’m not you,” he replies.
You glance around again. The room is full, but it doesn’t feel crowded. The sound is controlled, like the club has decided exactly how loud the world is allowed to be. Elsewhere, conversations hum. Glass clinks softly. A laugh bursts somewhere and gets swallowed by velvet.
“How many people are here?” you ask.
“Enough,” he says. “It’s curated. By invitation-only. Most of them are regulars, like me.”
“Regulars,” you echo, because the word sounds ridiculous. Like people casually do this every weekend: go to a secret club to relax and network privately while sipping alcohol that costs a month’s worth of groceries.
Your friend watches your face, amused at your disbelief. “You should’ve seen the guest list the first time I came. I thought I was hallucinating.”
“You came here before?”
He looks offended. “No shit. You think I’d bring you to something untested?”
“You test things like this?”
“I test experiences,” he corrects, like what he's doing is a respectable hobby.
Your soda arrives in a glass that makes it look like it’s trying to be taken seriously. His whiskey arrives like a quiet threat: clear, sharp, catching the light.
Wonbin raises his glass. “To favors repaid.”
You lift your soda, trying to be rude, but your words betray: “To leaving early.”
He clinks anyway. “We’ll see.”
Time slides slowly, like the night has no end. Your friend chats with people who stop by, names you don’t remember, faces you’ll never see even once on campus. They greet him with familiarity, with deference, with that subtle shift people make when they’re speaking to someone they consider important.
Nobody really looks at you for longer than a few seconds. You’re an accessory. A tag-along. The 'family friend' in sneakers.
You should be relieved.
Instead, you feel small. Not in a self-pity way. Just in a wow, this is what it feels like to be outside your lane.
"So." Wonbin leans back, spreading his arms along the top of the booth. His gaze constantly lingers on the main stage, clearly excited for what's to come. "What do you think?"
"I mean—" you pause, taking a glance up and down some curtains. They look nice and elegant, to be fair— "—it's a club, alright."
"It's the club." He gestures vaguely at the space around them. "No press, no cameras, no nothing. What happens here—" He draws a finger across his throat. "Stays in more ways than one."
"Very dramatic."
"Very true." He leans forward, lowering his cadence. "You know how many scandals have been quietly resolved in rooms like this? How many careers have been made or broken on that stage?"
You look at the stage again. Still empty. Just dark wood and the glint of spotlights waiting to ignite.
"I don't want to know."
Wonbin laughs, loud and genuine, drawing a few awkward glances from nearby tables. "That's why I like you. You're the only person I know who genuinely doesn't care about any of this."
He motions at himself, at the room, at everything. "It's refreshing. Like hanging out with a normal person."
"Gee, thanks."
"I mean it as a compliment."
The drinks arrive. Yours is soda in a glass that likely costs more than the soda five times over. Wonbin's is something amber and smoky that he swirls once before knocking back half of it.
"So." He sets the glass down. "I've had this date marked for like, four months."
You raise an eyebrow. "You mark dates?" you ask, playful, lightly ribbing at the idea.
"I mark important dates,” he emphasizes. “This one's important."
He's watching you with an expression you can't quite read—amused, yes, but something else underneath. "Like I said, tonight’s Idol Night."
You choke on your water. Still doesn’t feel like an actual believable event, at best something a promotional flyer that plays K-pop on a random Tuesday at gay clubs and cover bands perform, not some clandestine hall such as this one.
"Run that by me again?"
"Idol Night." Wonbin grins when he repeats himself. "Once a month, sometimes twice, they bring in fresh faces in K-pop. Small venue, intimate setting. No cameras, no recordings, no fansites. Just the performers and the audience."
"That's—" You're doing the math in your head, and nothing adds up. "That's not a thing. That doesn't happen."
"It happens." He flags down the server for another drink. "At least here, anyway. They've had Le sserafim, aespa, i-dle—the whole shebang—”
Your ear twitches at the very mention. Three of the biggest in the industry right now—and somehow, they’ve coerced into performing in this environment. You have so many questions. But he keeps going.
“The catch is, you have to know someone. And the groups that come through are the ones with something to prove, or something to gain, or—" he shrugs. "Connections to make. You'd be surprised what happens when the cameras are off."
You're staring at him. You know you're staring at him, but you can't stop. Because Wonbin is many things: rich, spoiled, occasionally thoughtless, but he's not a liar. And the way he's talking, the casual delivery and normalization of it all—
"You've been to one of these before."
"Couple times." He accepts his second drink, takes a sip. "Saw ITZY last year.” He drops his voice to a hush, the kind that’s sacred, telling forbidden secrets: “You know, Ryujin sat in my lap—and Yuna spread it wide after—”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
"Bullshit."
"One hundred percent fact." He's grinning now, enjoying your lack of belief. "They mingle after the performance. How long? Depends on the group, depends on the night. But yeah. It's real."
You look around the room again, seeing it differently now. The clusters of men in suits, the occasional woman whose beauty has that specific sharpness of someone who's either an idol or could be one. The way the lighting seems designed to flatter, to hide, to reveal exactly what it wants to—
"And you brought me here because—"
"Because you're my friend," Wonbin softens, just slightly. "And because I know you've never been able to get tickets to anything. Between school and work and—" He waves a hand. "Life. You're always the one helping everyone else. So yeah. I cashed in some favors. Got us in."
You don't know what to say. The glass suddenly feels colder in your grasp; the trickle of water beads down your skin might as well be sudden sweat.
"I—"
"Don't get emotional." He holds up his own hand. "Seriously, don't. I'll make fun of you forever."
Too late. There's something tight in your chest, something that might be gratitude. Having someone like Wonbin remember the poster on your bedroom wall, the albums on your shelf, the binder of photocards you pretend is just for collecting Pokémon cards—
"Which group?" you manage, and somehow, this might be your biggest regret of the lot.
Wonbin's grin turns sly. "Have a guess."
"I'm not guessing."
"Humor me."
You think about it. Le sserafim, aespa, ITZY, i-dle—all groups with the kind of reputation that makes this setting almost make sense. Groups whose concepts lean more on the mature side, whose stages push boundaries, whose fans are used to a certain level of sexuality—
But Wonbin's watching you with that look, the one that says he knows something you don't, and suddenly your brain catches up with the context clues.
"No."
"Maybe."
"No fucking shot."
"Oh, absolutely."
You're shaking your head in denial, but your heart's already racing. "IVE doesn't—they're not—their image is—"
"I know." Wonbin's practically glowing. "That's the point."
"They're the nation's sweethearts. Kids adore them. I don’t see why—"
You want to argue. List all the reasons this can't be happening, all the logical reasons IVE would never agree to perform in a setting like this, mark all the reasons you should leave right now before you see something you can't unsee.
But you don't move.
Because the poster on your wall is Wonyoung in that blue dress from that one awards show. Because your albums are all first press, still kept in their plastic sleeves. Because you've spent hours watching fancams, reading translations, falling down rabbit holes of content until three in the morning when you should have been studying.
Because you're a fan. A real one. The kind that Wonbin's making fun of but also, apparently, worth paying attention to.
Before you press him further, the lights dim.
A murmur runs through the crowd, anticipation thrumming like a second bass line. You grip your glass, knuckles white.
"Relax." Wonbin's already looking like he’s having the time of his life watching your every reaction. "It's just a show."
"Nothing about this is just anything."
He chuckles, but you're not paying attention anymore because the stage lights are coming up, soft gold bleeding into the dark, and there's movement in the wings.
Six figures. Six distinct silhouettes.
And together, they step into the light.
You've saved countless pictures. Watched hours of content. You know every angle of their faces, every variation of their stage outfits, every carefully curated moment of their public personas.
None of it prepares you for this.
Because holy fuck.
Your gaze lands on Gaeul first. Leading with that calm, gentle confidence you've admired in a hundred fancams. But the outfit—god, the outfits. Gold tops and black shorts on every member. All of them rock it like goddesses, but on her, it's something else. A cropped top that barely exists, high-waisted bottoms that somehow show more than they cover, chains draping across her stomach like jewelry you want to trace with your fingers.
Then your eyes focus on Yujin, and your breath catches because she's looking directly at the audience, that stare that's always been more challenge than invitation. Her outfit is the most elaborate, if you can call it that: more chains, more cutouts, a harness situation that frames her chest in ways that make your mouth go dry. She moves like she owns the stage, like she owns you, and the worst part is she's right.
Rei's third, all legs in something that barely qualifies as a dress, slit to the hip, glitter catching every movement. She's grinning, that impish expression that makes you forget she acts cute half the time, and now you understand why.
Wonyoung.
Jang fucking Wonyoung.Where do you even start.
She steps out and the room forgets to breathe. You included. She's always been beautiful, always been that girl, the one everyone talks about, the one whose face launched a thousand brand deals. But tonight—she’s a whole other entity.
Her outfit is the same gold and black colorway like the others, a bra top that's more structure than fabric, high-waisted bottoms with cutouts that frame her hips, her waist, that impossible hourglass silhouette she usually hides behind pant suits and elegant dresses. Her long hair is down, wavy, catching the light like spun gold. Her eyes are lined dark, smoky, the kind of look that promises things she's never been allowed to promise before.
She's not looking at the audience. She's looking through them, past them, like she's already somewhere else. Like she's already the woman she's trying to become.
You almost miss Liz because Wonyoung's presence is still processing in your brain, but she demands attention in her own way. Softer curves, sweeter face, but the rougher makeup and designer outfit doesn't lie: plunging neckline, thigh-high slits, everything designed to show exactly what they've been hiding.
Last is Leeseo, and she shouldn't be anywhere near something like this; she's young, too innocent, too pure—but there she is, gold chains crisscrossing her stomach, in shorts that barely qualify as such, and she's smiling like she knows exactly what she's doing.
The music starts.
It starts normally; it's just XOXZ. You're expecting the usual, and for the most part it is: they're hitting choreo beats like it's just another practice routine. The crowd watches in reverent silence, but a quick glance at their eyes reveal something more: controlled, intricate observation, the one reserved for judging, deep evaluation.
But after that oh-so memorable bridge, something shifts. There's a change in the instrumental, a new dance break, something you haven't seen even in concert fancams.
Gaeul hits a drop and the audience cheers. Not the typical polite applause, but something rawer, hungrier. One often heard and seen in foreign outings.
Regardless, you can't look away.
Wonyoung takes center stage and the lights seem to bend toward her, gold catching on her skin, on the glitter dusted across her collarbones, on the chains that move with every breath. She dances like no one's watching, which is insane because everyone's watching, because you're watching, because you can't not watch. Her presence naturally draws you in.
Then, she rolls her hips and your brain short-circuits.
"This is—"
You don't realize you've spoken aloud until Wonbin answers.
"Real." He's not watching the stage. He's watching you, that amused expression back in full force. "Told you."
"But they're—" You gesture helplessly at the stage, at the girls, at everything. "They're IVE."
"And now they're IVE doing something different,” he shrugs. "Labels know what sells. And what sells in rooms like this?" Another gesture at the crowd, at the men in suits and women in dresses, at the glittering wealth surrounding them. "Not cute concepts, that's for sure."
You should be bothered by what you're seeing. Hell, you probably are, somewhere underneath the sheer overwhelming what the fuck of the moment. But right now, with the bass thrumming through your chest and Wonyoung spinning into Yujin's arms, bodies pressing together in ways that would break the internet if anyone had a camera and Twitter on standby—
Right now, you're just a fan.
A fan who's never been to a concert. Never been to a fanmeet. Never been closer to his idols other than a screen and a dream.
"This—this is—"
You try again, fail again.
"My gift to you." Wonbin's answer is softer now, more genuine. "For all the times you helped me when you didn't have to. For being my friend when most people just want my wallet."
He raises his glass again. "Happy early birthday. Or something. I don’t know."
You look at him—really look at him—and for once the expensive clothes, the easy confidence, the casual wealth all seem to fade away. He's just your friend. The one who actually paid attention.
Somehow, you manage to say something. It's simple, but the most resonant.
"Thank you.”
Wonbin grins and nods along. "Don't thank me yet. Performance just started. We haven’t gotten to the best part."
Tilting his head toward the stage, Yujin's executing a move that should be illegal in at least 27 countries. "Just so you know, Yujin and Wonyoung are mine tonight."
You laugh. Actually laugh, to let something loose in your chest.
"In your dreams."
"In this club?" He raises an eyebrow. "Dreams are the bare minimum."
The music swells. The sextet hits a collective pose that makes the crowd roar. And you sit there, like the typical average college student in his best button-down, surrounded by wealth and glitter and things you never thought you'd see, watching your bias perform in an outfit that would break the internet if anyone could prove it existed.
This isn't real. This can't be real.
But Rei’s hand is on Liz’s waist, and Rei’s looking at the audience with eyes that know exactly what she's doing, and the bass is still thrumming, and your glass is sweating in your hand, and—
"Is this real?" you ask again, quieter, even though you’ve started believing.
Wonbin doesn't answer right away. He's watching the stage, something complicated in his expression. Then he looks at you, and the grin is back, but softer.
"It's real, dude. Welcome to the deep end."
You don't chance a look at him. You’re too focused on the performance to care about anything else.
The music hits another drop. They turn on their heels and pose again. Wonyoung winks—with that specific smile, the one that launched a thousand ships—and you realize you've unknowingly been smiling back, even though you’re nowhere near her line of sight.
You've seen Kitsch a hundred times. Watched the music video until the algorithm gave up suggesting anything else, studied fancams like you were preparing for an exam, memorized every angle, every expression, every carefully placed hair flip. You thought you knew it. You thought you understood what the song was, what it meant, what it could do.
When in fact, you didn't know a damn thing.
On this stage, with these lights, in these outfits, Kitsch becomes something else entirely. Something that shouldn't exist outside of private fantasies and late-night internet rabbit holes you'd never admit to.
Wonyoung hits the opening verse and the crowd feels it. Something that vibrates through the floor and up your spine and settles somewhere in your chest like a second heartbeat. She moves differently here—sharper, looser, like the constraints of broadcast regulations have been stripped away along with the layers of fabric. Her hips roll with the bass and you catch yourself holding your breath.
Beside you, Wonbin taps his glass in rhythm, entirely at ease. Comfortably settled in his element.
Told you, his expression says without speaking.
You don't acknowledge him. Your eyes are firmly glued to the stage, to Gaeul, to Yujin sliding into frame behind her, hands finding hips in a way that would send fans into cardiac arrest if anyone could capture it.
Thank God they can't. No cameras. No proof. Just this moment, this room, these people.
Just you, watching your bias wrecker emerge from the wings.
Rei takes her mark and something in your chest lurches.
She's always been the dangerous one—at least for you. The one who made you second-guess your loyalties when Wonyoung had been your bias since debut. The one whose fancams you watched for research, obviously, and then watched again because—research. The one with that smile, that cute, playful energy, that way of looking at the camera like she knows exactly what you're thinking and finds it amusing.
In person, it's worse. So much worse.
Her outfit barely qualifies as safe: gold chains crisscrossing her neck, shorts that qualify as a suggestion more than clothing, boots that lace up to her thighs and leave most of them exposed. Her hair, shoulder length, moves with the beat, catching the light, and she's grinning—that specific grin that's quintessentially Rei, the one that says she's up to something and you're going to enjoy it whether you want to or not.
The members spread out, owning the stage in ways that feel almost aggressive. Yujin drops into a move that makes several nearby guests cheer, loud and appreciative. Wonyoung follows, her expression that perfect blend of cool disdain and come-hither that's made her the center of a thousand think pieces. Even Leeseo moves with a confidence that seems impossible for someone her age, or maybe that's exactly the point.
Maybe this is what happens when the cameras are off, when the only audience is the one in front of you, when the only thing that matters is the moment itself.
You're vaguely aware of the condensation dripping onto your pants. Of Wonbin saying something you don't catch because Rei is right there, working the edge of the stage, her eyes scanning the crowd like she's looking for someone.
Like she's looking for you.
Don't be ridiculous.
But then her gaze pauses. Flickers. Lands. On you.
You freeze.
It's just a second—maybe less—but in that brief moment, something passes between you. Not recognition, because why would she recognize you—some random guy in a cheap button-down that looks out of place in a crowd of wealth and entitlement—but acknowledgment. Like she's seen you, actually seen you, in a room full of people trained to look through each other.
Before it fully registers, she moves on, and you can breathe again.
"Bro." Wonbin cuts through the fog. "Did she just—"
"No."
"I totally saw that."
"You saw nothing."
He laughs, low and knowing. "Sure, man. Whatever helps you sleep tonight."
You try to refocus on the stage, on the performance, on anything except the fact that Rei looked at you. But your heart won't cooperate, beating wildly like you've found the love of your life, and your hands feel weirdly numb, and—
The song ends. You don't remember anything in those three minutes or so other than Rei catching you and the members being sexy beyond comprehension. Nevertheless, the crowd applauds, respectful, but it feels different: warmer, more engaged. Like the atmosphere’s shifted.
The stage lights shift too, softening from the bright gold of the opening into something warmer, more intimate. The bass deepens. A new track starts, and it takes you a second to place it, not even the obvious intro with the painfully distinct sample—
The members fan out again, but this time they're not staying on stage. They're moving into the crowd.
You watch, transfixed, as Yujin approaches a table near the front. She doesn't perform so much as preside. That infectious energy fully deployed, chin lifted, eyes half-lidded as she runs a hand through her hair and lets the movement draw attention to every line of her body. The man at the table—older, silver-haired, wearing a watch that probably costs a house—smiles like he's been given a gift.
Wonyoung drifts toward another cluster of guests, and the room seems to tilt in her direction. She's all angles tonight: sharp cheekbones, sharper gaze, that impossible silhouette showcased by the cutouts in her outfit. She doesn't have to try. She just has to exist, and the effect is as impactful.
Gaeul works the opposite side of the room, more graceful and delicate than the others, her natural energy translating even in this context. Leeseo follows her lead, young but not young, if you understand—smiling, waving, letting her gaze linger just long enough to make an impression.
Liz moves with more restraint. You notice it immediately, the way she holds herself, the careful control in every gesture. She's attractive, undeniably so, but there's something disciplined about her approach. Something that says I'm here because I have to be, not because I want to be. Not coldness, exactly, not quite. More like professionalism taken to its logical extreme.
And Rei—
Rei is making her way toward your side of the room. She's just—she's working the crowd. It's not—
But she's not stopping at any of the tables she passes. Not lingering near the businessmen with their expensive watches and hungry eyes. Not even glancing at the celebrities half-cloaked in shadow.
She's coming toward you.
"Oh my God," Wonbin mutters, and he sounds genuinely shocked. "She's actually—"
"Shut up."
"You shut up. This is amazing."
You shut up. Can't move either. Can't do anything except sit there, frozen, as Rei weaves through the final few tables and comes to a stop directly in front of you.
Up close, she's—different. Not in a bad way. In a way that makes you realize how flat screens are, how impossible it is to capture the reality of a person through pixels and compression. She's smaller than you expected, more compact, but there's nothing little about her presence. She takes up space without trying, fills the air around her with something that feels almost electric.
And she's looking at you.
Again.
Still.
"Hi," she mumbles, carefully maneuvering her microphone to avoid making unnecessary noise, and she sounds exactly what you imagined in person—bright, a little mischievous, carrying that hint of playfulness that's made her your bias wrecker since day one. "Enjoying the show?"
You open your mouth. Nothing comes out.
Rei's smile widens. She's close enough that you can see the glitter on her cheekbones, the individual strands of hair that have escaped whatever styling product they used, the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she's genuinely amused.
"Cat got your tongue?" She tilts her head, the movement sending the gold chains shifting across her neck. "That's okay. I like shy ones."
Behind you, Wonbin makes a sound that might be a laugh or might be him choking. You can't check. Not when Naoi Rei's gaze is all over you.
She moves then—not away, but into the space between you and the table. Close enough that if you reached out, you could touch her. Close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off her skin, catch the faint scent of whatever perfume they use backstage. Close enough that this is definitely, absolutely, undeniably real.
The club remix of Attitude pulses through the room, but all you can hear is your own heartbeat racing.
Rei starts to move with the music. Not the full choreography—just a sway, a roll of her hips, a slow drag of her hands down her own body that captures your eyes whether you want them drawn or not. She's performing for you. Specifically, deliberately, unmistakably for you.
"Like what you see?" she whispers, tilting her gaze over to you, and there's that grin again, the one that says she knows exactly what she's doing.
You manage a nod. Barely.
She laughs, bright and genuine, and for a moment the performance drops away and she's just Rei—the girl from the variety shows, the one who makes silly jokes, runs the Tiktok account like her own personal canvas, and gets teased by the members and can't always keep a straight face during serious moments. Then it's back, the professional effortlessly veneer sliding into place, but you saw it. You saw her.
"We have a song later," she says, leaning in slightly, close enough that you could count her eyelashes if your brain was functioning well enough for math. "Special one. Never performed before. Hope you stick around for it."
"I—"
Your voice cracks. Actually cracks, like you're fifteen again and going through puberty for the second time. "Yeah. I mean. Yes. I'll—I'm not going anywhere."
Rei's smile softens, just a fraction. "Good."
She reaches out—reaches out—and touches your shoulder. Just a brief press of fingers, light enough that you might imagine it, but you don't imagine it because you feel it, feel the contact like a brand through the fabric of your cheap button-down.
Then she's gone, gliding away to rejoin the others, and you're left staring at empty space with your heart trying to escape your chest, trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened.
"Bro." Wonbin chokes in disbelief. "Bro, what the fuck."
"I don't—"
"That was—she touched you. She came all the way over here and performed just for you and then she touched you."
"I know."
"Do you realize—do you have any idea—"
"No." You cut him off, because if you have to think about what just happened, you might actually pass out. "I don't. I can't. Just—give me a second."
Wonbin laughs out loud, drawing a few stray, distracted glances from nearby tables. "Take all the time you need, man. I'm just gonna sit here and enjoy watching you have a crisis."
You don't pay attention to anything or anyone other than Rei; they're back on stage now, taking their places for the next formation, and for an incredibly brief moment she glances your way again. Just a flicker of eye contact, but she smiles.
The performance continues. You watch and observe, but you're not really there anymore, not in the way you were before.
Every movement Rei makes feels pointed. Every glance toward your section of the room feels deliberate. You know it's probably not true. She's a professional doing her job, working the crowd, giving everyone in this room what they paid for and then some.
But knowing doesn't stop you from feeling.
The next song blends into the next. You recognize fragments—bits of choreography and sections from I Am, Love Dive, After Like—but everything's rearranged, remixed, reimagined into a composite medley specifically for this space, this audience, this night. The members move through the crowd in waves; different girls approaching different tables, and you watch Liz make her way toward your side of the room with a different energy than Rei brought.
Liz's charisma is controlled, precise. Every gesture measured, every expression calibrated. She's beautiful—of course she's beautiful, they all are—but there's something almost clinical in her approach. Like she's performing a role rather than being herself. You remember reading somewhere that she's more reserved off-stage, that the other members have to draw her out of her shell.
Maybe that's what you're seeing. Perhaps the discipline is a shield.
She stops a few feet from your table, close enough to acknowledge but not enough to engage. Her eyes sweep over you and Wonbin, taking you in, quickly assessing. Then she gives a small nod—almost imperceptible—and moves on to the next table.
"Friendly," Wonbin remarks.
"She's just—that's how she is."
"You know her personally now?"
"I'm a fan. You get to know these things."
He snorts, but there's no malice behind it. "Right. Well, your girl Rei seems to have adopted you. Liz is just doing her job."
Your girl Rei. His comment lodges somewhere in your chest and refuses to leave.
The performance builds toward something. You can feel it in the way the energy shifts, the way the members start to converge back on the stage, the way the lighting deepens from bright and colorful into something darker, more intimate. The crowd feels it too; conversations trail off, glasses pause halfway to lips, every eye turns toward the stage.
The music stops.
For a moment, there's silence. Complete, absolute silence in a room full of people, which shouldn't be possible but somehow is.
Then a new track starts.
It's not like anything you've heard from them before. Heavier, darker, fusing western elements with a dirty, grungy bass line that seems to vibrate in your bones rather than your ears. Synths that build and swell and demand.
And then Leeseo's voice kicks in, and you realize—this is brand new. This is unreleased.
The crowd loses it. Not loudly; this isn't that kind of crowd. But you feel the shift, the sudden intensity of attention, the way every person in the room leans forward slightly, collectively, like they're all straining toward the stage.
Their choreography looks different. Sharper. More aggressive in a way that makes the earlier performances look almost tame. The members move like they're fighting something—or someone—bodies slicing through space with a precision that borders on violence.
The song builds to its first chorus and the bass hits, hard enough that you feel it in your teeth. The lights strobe. The members explode into quick, precise movement.
And you just sit there, average college student in his best button-down, watching your favorite group perform a song that doesn't officially exist in a club that doesn't officially exist for an audience that will never be able to prove any of it happened.
This isn't real. But it is. It's 100% real.
You know because your hands are shaking, because your heart's been racing for the last 45 minutes or so, you've stopped following, because Rei shoots a glance your way during a brief pause in the choreography and winks.
Before you can fully comprehend the song, it ends. The lights come up, soft and warm again, and the members take their positions at the front of the stage. They bow—that familiar idol bow, the one you've seen a thousand times in a thousand different contexts—and for a moment, they're just IVE again. The group you've followed for years. The girls whose content got you through late nights and stressful exams.
Their message is brief: they thank the audience for being here and enjoying themselves, tell everyone they'll be back with new music in the coming months, and to shower them with continuous love and support. It doesn't register till the very last second that the new song they performed is called Bang Bang, even though it's literally all over the damn lyrics and Yujin mentioned it herself.
"First time anywhere," she said. "Please look forward to the official release."
Then they straighten their postures, and Wonyoung waves—that specific wave, the one that makes fans lose their minds—and they start to file off stage. The main event is over.
The crowd applauds. Respectful, classy. Then the regular subdued club music kicks back in. Conversations restart. Glasses are raised.
Meanwhile, you sit there, utterly still, utterly overwhelmed by—well, everything.
"So," Wonbin cuts through the fog. "Thoughts?"
You turn to look at him. He's watching you with that expression again—amused, knowing, but underneath it something softer. Something that might be genuine happiness at your happiness.
"I—" You stop. Start again. "That was—"
"Yeah."
"I don't have words."
"Didn't think you would." He leans back, spreading his arms along the top of the booth. "But hey. At least you know it was real, right? Your girl Rei definitely noticed you."
Your girl Rei. There it is again. Somehow, you want to believe it, no matter how delusional and stupid it sounds.
"She was just—she was doing her job."
"Sure." He drawls the word, stretching it into three syllables. "That's why she came all the way across the room to perform specifically at our table. That's why she touched you. That's why she winked at you during the finale. All in the name of professionalism."
You don't have an answer for that. Because deep down, he's right, and you know he's right and you have no idea what to do with that information.
Wonbin watches you struggle for a moment, then laughs and pats you on the shoulder. "Relax, man. I'm just giving you a hard time. But seriously—that was something. Even by this club's high standards, that was something."
You nod, because you've got no words. Because it's the safest response.
People are moving between tables now, networking or whatever it is rich people do in spaces like this. A few of them, fresh faces, ones even Wonbin doesn’t know, glance your way—probably wondering who you are, how you rate, why you're here.
You don't care. Your mind is still looking at the stage, thinking about Rei, on the impossible fact that she looked at you, saw you, touched you.
"She's right, you know." Wonbin pulls you back from your haze. "About sticking around."
"What?"
"The song. The new one. She said they had a special song and hoped you'd stick around for it." He raises an eyebrow. "You stuck around. She noticed."
"I—she was just—"
"You keep saying that." He sets down his glass, turning to face you fully. "Look. I don't know what happens after these things. I've stayed for the mingling before, but I've never—I've never had one of them come to me like that. Not like that. So I'm not gonna pretend I know what it means."
You wait. There's more coming, you can feel it.
"But I do know that you deserve this." He insists, just slightly begging—like you're doing him another favor by letting him have this one night. "You spend all your time helping everyone else. School, work, me—you're always the one giving. So if tonight, for whatever reason, one of your favorite idols decided to give something back?" He shrugs. "Take it. Enjoy it. Don't overthink it."
Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one standing inches from Rei while she moved to music meant only for this room. He wasn't the one who felt her fingers on his shoulder, brief but electric.
But he's not wrong either.
"Thanks," you manage. "For bringing me. For—all of it."
Wonbin grins, the moment of sincerity passing as quickly as it came. "Don't thank me yet."
You frown. "What do you mean?"
He leans forward, eyes glittering with that look you've learned to recognize—the one that means he knows something you don't, and he's about to enjoy telling you.
"The performance," he starts, "is just the first part."
You heard him the first time; you just need confirmation.
"I already told you,” he gestures vaguely toward the back of the stage where the members disappeared. "They mingle. Meet people. It's part of the deal—why these groups do these shows. Connections. Networking. Opportunities. Aside from the huge pay, of course."
Your brain, already struggling to process the last hour or so, grinds to a complete halt.
"You're saying—"
"I'm saying they haven't even come out yet." He settles back, clearly enjoying your reaction. "The show's over. Now the real night begins."
You look toward the stage, toward the wings where IVE exited, toward the velvet-curtained area beyond that might be a green room or might be something else entirely.
The performance was one thing. Unreal, impossible, but contained. A show. Something you could watch from a distance, even when that distance shrank to mere inches.
But meeting them, talking to them, being in the same room as them, not as audience and performer, but as—
"That's the best part," Wonbin adds, carrying a weight you don't fully understand yet. "Trust me. You haven't experienced anything yet."
All around you, nightlife continues as usual; glasses clink, laughter rises and falls. Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, pretending to be a shadow of someone you're not, in a place you clearly don't belong, holding a glass that's long since gone warm, waiting for a night that apparently isn't over yet.
The members emerge from the side of the stage like they're walking into a fansign, all smiles and waves and that practiced idol grace that makes everything look effortless. Gaeul first, because she's always first, leading with that quiet confidence that's made her the group's silent anchor. Leeseo follows, bouncing slightly, unable to completely suppress her natural energy even in a room like this. Then Yujin, and you watch her shift seamlessly into leader mode: scanning the room, assessing, already calculating the best way to work this crowd.
Wonyoung glides out next, and the room seems to gravitate toward her, as always. The way light catches her features, the way she holds herself, the way her presence demands without asking—it's the kind of thing that makes you understand why she's where she is, why she's who she is.
Liz follows, more reserved, her smile polite but contained. She's scanning the place too, but differently than Yujin: less strategic, more cautious. Like she's reading the room to figure out where she fits rather than how to work it.
And then, Rei. She emerges last, and your chest does something complicated. They're still in their bold, risque stage outfits, but her features soften to the one seen in cameras and in her funny TikToks. She looks younger like this, more approachable. Like the girl from the variety shows, the one who can't always keep a straight face during games, the one whose laugh makes you laugh even when you don't know why.
But there's still that edge. That hint of mischief in the way she holds herself, the way her eyes scan the crowd like she's looking for someone.
Looking for you.
You know it's probably not true. Again, you're reminding yourself she's just doing her job, working the room, making key connections. But when her gaze finds yours across the space—across the clusters of wealthy patrons and glittering celebrities and all the people who belong here in ways you don't—and she smiles, that specific Rei smile, the one that crinkles her eyes at the corners—
"Yeah," Wonbin mutters beside you. "She's definitely not looking for you. Totally professional."
"Shut up."
"I'm just saying." He laughs, low and easy, settling deeper into the booth. "Relax. They'll get to us eventually. Gotta work the room first." He gestures vaguely at the crowd surrounding the girls. "Big fish, bigger wallets, all that. We're the dessert course."
You watch as the members fan out, each gravitating toward different groups of guests. Gaeul goes toward a table of older men—executives of some kind, you assume, given the Rolexes on their wrists and the posture and the way they receive her like she's a business proposal wrapped in grace. She handles it beautifully, all poise and polish, every gesture measured.
Leeseo bounces between tables, her natural cheerfulness persisting even in this radical, unyielding environment. She's the youngest, but she carries herself well, disarming people with that friendly smile before they can think too hard about why she's here.
Yujin works the room like she's running for office. Handshakes, eye contact, that natural presence that makes you want to believe in whatever she's selling. She pauses at a table near the center, engages in conversation that seems genuinely mutual, and you catch yourself thinking that's why she's the leader.
Wonyoung doesn't work so much as receive. People line up to her. Quite literally. You watch it happen in real time; a small queue forms as guests wait for their moment with her. She handles each interaction with that perfect blend of warmth and distance that's made her the industry's most untouchable asset.
Liz moves more cautiously, sticking to the edges, speaking briefly before moving on. She's polite, professional. But there's something held back, something reserved, and you remember reading interviews where she talked about being shy, about needing time to warm up to people.
This must be hard for her, you realize. This must cost something.
Rei works the room like she's playing a game. She spends a little longer at each table, a little more playful, a little more present. You watch her make a group of businessmen laugh at something, watch her touch a woman's arm in a gesture of genuine connection, watch her move through the space like she's known it her whole life.
But every so often, her eyes flick your way. Just a glance. Just a check. And every time, she smiles.
"She's definitely not waiting to get to us," Wonbin comments. "Totally professional interest in our table. Very business."
"Can you not?"
"Absolutely not. This is the most entertainment I've had in months."
You try to ignore him. Try to focus on anything except the slow progression of idols through the room, the way they're getting closer table by table, the way your heart rate climbs with each passing minute.
The men at the table nearest you are deep in conversation with Gaeul and Leeseo now, their usual composed demeanor cracking slightly in the presence of actual idols. One of them—silver-haired, expensively suited—actually blushes when Leeseo directs a comment his way. You file that away for later, for the part of your brain that will need proof this was real.
Then they move onto the next table. And the next.
Closer. Getting closer.
"I've got dibs," Wonbin says, not for the first time. "Yujin and Wonyoung. Don't forget."
"How could I forget? You've only mentioned it like a dozen times."
"Just making sure. You're distracted."
You are. You know you are. Because Rei is at the table directly adjacent now, close enough that you can hear the cadence of her accent, catch fragments of her conversation. She's speaking in Korean, rapid and fluid, and your brain—trained on years of content with subtitles—strains to catch words you might recognize.
She laughs at something, bright and genuine, and the sound does something to your chest.
Then the table's conversation ends. They stand, exchange pleasantries, move on.
Rei turns. Looks directly at you. Smiles. And starts walking toward your table.
"Oh shit," Wonbin mutters. "Here they come."
They, as in all six of IVE. Because Yujin's broken away from her cluster too, Wonyoung's gliding in their wake, Liz is trailing slightly behind, and somehow—by sheer universal fate—all of them are converging on your table at once.
You don't remember exactly when you stood up, but suddenly you're standing, which means you feel tall, that you're clearly visible. There's nowhere to hide even if you wanted to disappear.
You don't want to. You want to be here. You want to see this. You just didn't expect to be seen.
Rei greets you, close enough that you could reach out and touch her. She's stopped a few feet away, giving you space, but her eyes are right there, meeting yours without hesitation. "Hi again."
"Hi," you manage. The word, when it comes out, sounds strange. Distant.
"You stayed."
"I—yeah. I said I would."
Her smile widens. "You did. I remember."
Yujin steps forward, unassuming, and her presence shifts the dynamic immediately. Suddenly, she feels like the most imposing person in the room, demanding your attention but in reality, her features show warmth. Still, her eyes move at a pace that quickly assesses you from head to toe.
"So you're the one," she says, vague.
You blink. "The one?"
"The one Rei couldn't stop talking about." She throws an amused look at Rei. "Someone caught her attention tonight."
Rei's cheeks flush—actually glow, visible even in the dim lighting—and she swats at Yujin's arm. "Unnie."
"What? It's true."
You stand there, frozen, as the reality of this moment crashes over you. Yujin is teasing Rei. About you. In front of you.
Wonyoung drifts closer, elegant as always, and her presence adds another layer to the overwhelming tableau. She doesn't speak immediately; just observes, her gaze thoughtful.
Then Liz steps forward, and her expression is different from the others—more curious, more direct. She looks at you like she's trying to figure something out.
"You're a fan," she remarks. It's not a question.
"I—yeah. I am. Have been since debut."
Liz's expression softens. "It's nice to meet a real one. Here." She gestures practically at the room, at the wealth and privilege surrounding them. "It's different. Usually. Older guys and all."
You nod because it's the safest option. "I didn't know this existed. My friend—" You glance at Wonbin, who's watching with barely concealed amusement, "he brought me. Said it was a gift."
"A gift." Yujin's eyebrow lifts. The words sound odd in this environment. "Interesting choice of gift."
"Best gift I've ever gotten," you admit, and it's true, and saying it makes it somehow more real.
Rei beams at that. Actually beams, like you've said something that made her genuinely happy.
Wonyoung speaks for the first time, carrying that particular quality that makes everything she says sound important. She's looking at Rei mostly, but her eyes flick to you briefly. "He's been watching you all night. Very intently."
"Wonyoung," Rei protests, but there’s no bite.
"What? It's true. I saw."
Now you're the one blushing. You can feel it, the heat climbing your neck, settling in your cheeks. This is mortifying. This is also, somehow, the best moment of your life.
Wonbin, sensing an opportunity to make things worse, leans forward. "He's got a poster. Of you," he points at Rei. "On his wall. Right next to his bed."
"Wonbin. Are you fucking serious—" you try to speak, but the words gradually die on your mouth.
"What? It's relevant." He shrugs, grinning like this is all part of his twisted plan.
Rei's eyes go wide, then crinkle when she laughs. "A poster? Really?"
"I—it's from the Season's Greetings photobook. 2025. The limited edition, the one with the—"
You stop because you're rambling, because somehow, you're explaining your poster placement to an actual member of IVE—your goddamn bias, even—because your life has become unrecognizable in the span of a few hours.
But Rei's still smiling. Still looking at you like you're not just another stranger in a room full of them.
"That's sweet," she says. "Really. That means a lot."
Liz shifts beside her, and something in her expression changes. She's watching you with renewed interest, like you've become slightly more dimensional than before.
"You have good taste," she offers, quiet, genuine.
"Liz stole my heart too," you then say, and the words are out before you can stop, before you can filter them, before you can do anything except watch them land.
For a moment, silence again.
Then Rei laughs, absolutely delighted, and the sound breaks the tension like glass.
"Stole his heart," she repeats, eyes dancing back and forth between you and her. "Liz, did you hear that? You stole his heart."
Liz's cheeks flush pink, but she's smiling—actually smiling, that genuine one that transforms her whole face. "I didn't mean to."
"Too late," Wonbin chimes in. "He's been compromised. Both of you. He doesn't stand a chance."
Yujin snorts—actually snorts, which is so unexpected that you stare. "Your friend is funny."
"He's insufferable," you correct, but there's no heat behind it. Not when Rei is still laughing, not when Liz is smiling at you like you're not a complete stranger.
Wonyoung tilts her head, studying you with that unreadable expression. "You're different," she remarks, brushing her long hair with a hand. "From the others here."
It's not a question, but you answer anyway. "I'm not supposed to be here. I'm—" You wave at yourself, at your pants and sneakers and the shirt that suddenly feels inadequate in a dozen new ways. "This isn't my world."
"Maybe that's why."
She doesn't explain further; just lets the implication hang. They understand the situation: you're an anomaly standing in a room full of wealth and privilege, talking to IVE like they're just people, like this is normal.
None of it is. But you don't want it to end.
"We should keep moving," Yujin then says regretfully. "Other guests. You know how it is."
You nod. Of course. They have to work the room, have to make connections, have to do the thing they're here to do. You're not the only person in this space.
"I understand."
Rei's expression flickers—something passing through her eyes too fast to read. She glances at Liz, and something passes between them, some silent communication you're not meant to understand.
Then she steps closer. Close enough that you can see the individual strands of her eyelashes, the slight shimmer of residual glitter on her cheekbones, the way her lips part slightly before she speaks.
"Stay," she says, quiet, intimate, meant only for you.
You blink rapidly. "What?"
Rei leans in, close enough that her breath ghosts against your ear. "Don't leave. We'll come back. For you."
Before you can respond, before you can process, she's pulling back, smiling that playful smile, and Liz is beside her, and they're moving away, rejoining the others, disappearing into the crowd of guests who have no idea what just happened or have a clue about your conversation.
You stand there, frozen, your heart pounding once more.
"What did she say?" Wonbin snaps you back before it can fully sink in."What did she—"
"She said to stay. That they'd come back. For me."
Wonbin's eyebrows climb toward his hairline. "No shit?"
"No shit."
He processes this for a moment, then grins—wide and genuine and slightly wicked. "Well, then. You heard them."
"I—what do I—"
"You stay. Obviously." He stands, patting you on the shoulder. It feels—celebratory. "I, meanwhile, have a date with Yujin and Wonyoung."
"You can't just—"
"Watch me."
And he does. Wonbin weaves through the crowd with that natural rich man swagger, and you watch as he intercepts Yujin and Wonyoung near the bar, jaws drop as they turn to him, as something passes between them that ends with all three moving toward a different part of the club.
He's really doing it. He's really—
"Still here."
You turn around, and every time you find them, it never feels real.
Rei and Liz. Both of them, standing close, close enough that you're acutely aware of the space between you.
"You stayed," says Rei, and there's something different when she talks. Softer, more direct, but anxious.
"You asked me to."
Liz steps forward. Her hand finds yours—as in, actually wraps her fingers, intertwining like it's the most natural thing in the world. Her skin feels warm, soft, real.
"We should go," she suggests quietly. "Somewhere quieter."
Your heart stops. Kicks back to life.
You should say no. Tell them watching their performance, sharing a small conversation, no matter how brief, is more than enough. You understand your place as a fan, and you'll respect their boundaries as idols. Instead, Rei's glinting eyes and Liz holding your hand just that little bit tighter tell you that the night is nowhere close to being over.
A nod of agreement, and you follow them, hand in tow as Rei leads the way.
Around you, conversations about everything and anything happen in the background; no one cares that you've essentially snuck away from the main hall and into one of many dark, sparkling hallways. The others are nowhere in sight; Yujin and Wonyoung are with Wonbin, Gaeul and Leeseo with God knows who. Rei and Liz are muttering something between themselves, muffled by the low thrumming bass pervading even in this confined space.
Eventually, they find an unoccupied room near the dead-end of the hallway. The choice is intentional; they care about privacy the most. Rei slides the door open. Liz takes you inside, and Rei shuts it behind you, turning the knob and pulling the drapes closed.
Unsurprisingly, the lounge is lavish: a large, half-crescent couch circles half the room dominates the rear. A television with a panel containing several buttons below sits on the leftmost side of the room and a bathroom adjacent to the right. An ice bucket stacked with a bottle of champagne and wine glasses sits at the center table, ready for immediate consumption, and at the side, a mini fridge with extra beverages awaits for those seeking seconds.
You're overwhelmed by the luxury of it all that you don't realize Liz has disappeared from view, having let go of your hand. Turning around, the two women are standing mere inches from you, their eyes gleaming under the pale white light.
"I feel like we owe you an explanation," Rei starts. She sounds nervous and shy, nothing like the quirky idol you were talking to minutes ago.
"Yeah," Liz adds, matching her tone, though she’d been acting the part the whole time. "We thought—we should at least be honest about—all this. About what's happening."
Nothing seems to register. Just more questions run through your head. You dare not to speak.
"So—about that friend of yours—" says, slowly twiddling her fingers, "Wonbin, was it—"
"Yeah?" you interrupt before she can finish. Somehow, they know his name. It probably spreads around these circles fast, to be fair. People who likely pay specifically to meet these idols—and considering he's with Yujin and Wonyoung right now—
"He paid us."
Her answer catches you off guard. No preamble, just an immediate revelation. One you should have expected given the circumstances, but it doesn't shock you any less.
"Huh?"
"To bring you here, specifically." Liz then speaks on her member's behalf. "To spend time with you. Alone."
"We didn't know where else to start," Rei continues. "If you were a fan or not. Or if you'd recognize us."
"Which, you did," Liz clarifies. "Like, a lot. I saw the guests' expressions when we went over to you."
"You're a big deal, apparently," Rei quips, but it comes out half-hearted. "I thought he was joking."
You're still speechless.
"It's not our fault," says Rei. "I didn't think he was serious when he said he's bringing a fan tonight."
"Well, not really. No." Liz continues. "We're sorry. Really."
"Sorry, yeah," Rei adds. "We're truly sorry. Wonbin just told us to entertain you. And that's what we are doing right now."
"But, it wasn't fake. Everything," says Liz. "It was real. All of it. I promise."
"Promise."
Of course it's probably real to them. Wonbin's probably paying them by the hour—who knows at this point. Easier to maintain a lie than to continue with the truth, like applying a bandaid to a wound.
"I—" you start, but nothing follows. Your gaze tilts upward, at the pervading light, before falling back to theirs. Somehow, it feels sincere, genuine, everything they’ve said. They're looking at each other, expressions pained at having to pull the carpet so abruptly. "I—I understand."
The shift is instantaneous; one second they're genuine, remorseful human beings fully aware of what they've done, the next, the idol masks slip back on naturally, like it's deeply embedded in their skin. They're stepping towards you, forward for each instinctual foot you put backward till you feel the couch brush against your legs. Regardless, the regret lingers on their twitching, trembling lips.
"When we said it was real, we really meant it," Rei starts again, her eyes wide, trying to act playful, but she stops almost immediately. "Again—there are no fans in this place. Just—eyes. And bodies."
"Yeah," Liz quietly adds, carefully twiddling her fingers together, avoiding your gaze, deliberate as if you're judging how they move. "It's—not as fun as it looks. But—seeing you—reacting to us—actually enjoying yourself—" She inhales, "Wonbin was really right. He promised he'd bring us a fan, and here you are."
And Christ, they just know how to get through your heart.
Not that it's already so susceptible after everything that's unfolded—it doesn't matter anymore if this is still part of their rehearsed script or something they'd been told, like cameras are recording this very interaction right now and they have earpieces feeding them instructions in real time, it sounds heartbreakingly sincere that you can't help but forgive.
"I—I could never get mad—" you say, shaky, low sounding, because quite frankly, you can never get upset at your bias line, even if they were trying to purposefully anger you: "I'm just—shocked. At everything. That's all. He really had this all planned out—"
"Heard he paid the club and the agency triple the talent fee specifically to get us," Rei interrupts, chuckling, her usual cheeky self returning. "Didn't realize till a week ago when he personally went to us. At the goddamn company."
"He was determined," Liz adds. "Or, rather, desperate. Said it was a special occasion and wanted to do it for a friend. Never said anything about who it was for, but thank God it was you."
"Oh, come on," Rei cuts in, rolling her eyes, but there's no malice in her tone. Only light jest. "You were thinking the same thing."
"Maybe," Liz concedes, her lips curling into a sly smile. "It's rare, though. Fans are usually—boring. Closed-minded."
"God, yes," Rei sighs. "Thank goodness the actual fans aren't here. They'd hate this. This isn't—like us. If you know what I mean."
"Anyway," Liz then insists, "I'm glad we got to know you. The real you, hopefully."
"So—what happens now?" you then ask, tilting your head, all that buzz and shock starting to die out.
"It's—up to you," answers Liz, stepping ahead of her older member. "You can walk away now. Walk past that door and call it right then and there. At least we explained ourselves, and you saw us perform, which is what you wanted."
"And at least you were happy," Rei adds. "Right?"
"Of course," you reply, finally realizing the rather cornered position these two women have you in. You inch away from the couch, but they pin you at an angle where either girl can grab you the moment you reach for the door. "Always—it's been a dream to see you live and up close—but I never expected—"
"I don't blame you," Rei interrupts, smiling, her gaze shifting with that half-teasing grin that's just—ugh. "Anyone in your shoes would be overwhelmed that we could be that hot."
"But—if you want to stay," Liz hesitantly says, her eyes darting to Rei, before settling back to you. "Please stay."
"After all," Rei continues. "We promised him to give you a memorable experience."
"And you deserve it," Liz adds, gaining some of her member's confidence. "For being such a good fan—and a good person, I guess."
Somehow, even in a tension-filled situation like this, she manages to make you burst into laughter. Rei too.
"Jiwonnie, can you not—"
"Hey." She turns to meet her member halfway, cheekily grinning. "Maybe this is still a little too much—"
They've merged onto you, now mere inches away. You can feel their breaths on your skin, their collective gaze paralyzing, magnetic, demanding your every fiber of attention. Never have you been pinned like this—and rather than fighting or trying to resist, you allow it.
Let their presence utterly consume you. After all, that's what you deserve. Rei and Liz said it themselves.
And finally, the cherry on top: the subtle grip on your pants, on your clothed crotch—two hands, one from each member, measuring, pressing tightly on your hardening cock, only kept in check by the slacks you're wearing. Eying you head to toe, they find your buttons and zipper even in deep fabric, slowly parting them, till they can feel your staining precum through the underwear.
"So—what's it gonna be?" Rei questions, even though your mind has already decided on your behalf.
Slowly and subtly, the two girls lead you back against the couch. This time, you're freely falling back into it, completely under their spell. And your body just—surrenders.
Their response is short and sweet: "Good answer."
Rei and Liz leave you slumped on the lavish couch. Your pants partly halfway now down your legs, your body powerless and losing its will to fight completely. All you can do is watch them walk—fucking hell, they can strut—toward the TV and control center in the corner of the room, still performing, still on their A-game, like they're standing in front of thousands and not just for you.
Yet no amount of professionalism and idol training can cover their lack of knowledge with how the private VIP lounge works.
It's calm and quiet at first; just minor delays, something they can seemingly figure it out within a minute, maybe less than. Then Rei's visibly struggling with the buttons on the board, echoing out her frustration at having to pry and read the instruction manual from the cabinet below. Liz tries to help through it, but she's as equally clueless as to how anything works.
"Jeez—you'd think they'd let us inside this place during rehearsals—" Rei mutters, but Liz rubs a hand on her member's back, gently reassuring.
"C'mon, at least don't do it front of our good friend here—"
Immediately after, Liz turns her head toward you, smiling, raising the other hand. Just give us a moment.
No words need to be said, and you'd happily wait the whole night too.
The lights inside the lounge change colors, from a simple sparkly white to a disco flurry of blue and green, before shifting to a clean gold, reminiscent of the stages they performed earlier.
"Perfect!" Rei yells out, as if she had just discovered fire. She presses a button, and music begins to reverberate on the speakers hidden in the four corners of the room.
It's that remix of Attitude from earlier; that dancey, club remix that's unassuming enough to avoid suspicion. The two take positions parallel from each other on opposing ends of the room, and much like in concert fancams you've seen online, they walk toward each other during the instrumental break, their struts seductive and deliberate. As they unite at the center, where your gaze solely fixes on them, moving like a coordinated unit, they strike a pose.
Fuck. You can barely contain yourself on that couch. If you weren't already hard before, you certainly are now.
These are no longer idols, rather bodies now. Their collective gaze keeps you focused on their eyes—four piercing, daring eyes—but as you wander down, the real treat comes from their sultry, inviting gestures.
Rei's sweeping both her hands down her ass, arching her back to accentuate her figure, barely kept together by those cheeky shorts. Liz winks directly at you. Brushes her hair with a flick of her hand, biting her lower lip, shimmies her shoulder for a little move, absolutely confident in herself. Two completely different women, both equally hot, equally arousing. During the pause where they should be walking back to the main stage, of which there is none, they meet halfway, passing an unspoken message—
And then Liz slaps Rei's ass.
Lets one hand rest on her shorts. Rei smirks as she feels the impact. Closes her eyes, lets her friend and member tease for a bit. She angles herself that her back is facing you while Liz does the unthinkable: she undoes the zipper and slides it down. Rei finishes the job, letting it pool around her boots and revealing the matching gold underwear beneath.
She arches her back once more. Spreads it wide with her hands as the music fades in the background, becoming more like white noise at this point. Her ass is plump and firm; waist slender, the proportions just right. And her thighs are thick and meaty, perfect for squeezing and grabbing.
Liz grabs Rei's underwear, stretching it to the side, showing you her pussy, completely and utterly soaked.
"See how wet I am? I bet you just wanna touch it yourself right now, don't you?" Rei asks, but you're rendered speechless by what's unfolding. This is straight up pornography.
Liz grins. Strokes the side of Rei's leg, running her fingers up and down her pale, creamy skin. She takes a sampler of Rei's slick and puts it into her mouth.
Then Rei suddenly kisses her.
At this point, the two have stopped performing and are simply fucking right in front of you. Cupping each other's cheeks and all. You can see Rei reaching around the back of Liz's top, hustling for her zipper. She finds it and likewise, slides it down, giving you a glimpse of the expanse of her skin. Rei pushes it partly off her body, with Liz tossing it aside to be forgotten, now down to her black bra and matching skirt.
It's the hottest thing you've ever seen. As much as you want to get involved, you enjoy watching this.
Just as they're about to dive back into each other, Rei stops herself. She looks left and right, noting the music, remembering your presence: "Alright, this is kinda distracting."
You badly want to quip and say it's their song. Liz laughs and shakes her head.
"At least you know how to turn it off," she quips, but Rei shoots her this playful scowl that makes it worse.
She breaks free from the embrace and promptly turns it off within seconds. Turning her focus on you, Rei strides forward.
"Sorry we didn't push through with it," she remarks, smiling, but the tone is partially apologetic. "Can you imagine fucking to your own song?"
"I was about to say—" you start, your first words in a while, but she presses a finger on your lips when she climbs your lap, overpowering you, laying you down on the couch. It might as well be a bed by how wide it is. And maybe that's the point: this is where nights really and truly end.
With Rei's hand pressed on your clothed chest, Liz joins her on the couch, but not atop you. You've kicked your shoes aside at some point during their little tease, but Rei's finishing the job. Unbuttoning and parting the shirt, pants that were halfway down your legs now puddle at your ankles, along with your boxers. Your fully erect cock is now at their mercy, and they're wasting no time.
"Shit—oh fuck—" you shudder, groaning as Rei's fingers seize your cock, stroking it gently at a feverishly slow, but deliberate pace.
"You're pretty big, aren't you?" she remarks, smiling. Sweet but devilish. "Are you sure you can handle the both of us?"
"Please. He can't," Liz teases, sitting next to your thigh, her arm draped on the headrest.
"Give him a chance. We haven't even started."
"Well, you're the one who's touching him, so—"
"Okay, fine."
Rei's had her fill of stroking your cock. Now, her fingers are lightly dancing on your shaft, teasing, stealing that little bit of precum that would make Liz jealous. She leans down, hovering above your ear, her warm breath tantalizing. "Aren't you a lucky one, huh? Now you get to choose."
"Choose? But—"
Another delicate squeeze from Rei's fingers when you try to speak up. An involuntary groan escapes your mouth again. She brushes the precum on your skin, lets Liz eat from her digit, then caresses her hair with it.
It's gross; it's also hot.
"You heard me. You get one," she repeats, as if that makes it any better. You're staring at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts and ignore the stimulation.
"This is a test, isn't it?"
"Yeah. Sorta. Not really. Maybe?" Rei's trademark grin feels like an insult now. "I mean—I don't think you can handle both of us."
"Oh, come on. Don't sell him short, Rei," Liz suggests. "He can handle us. Can't you, baby?"
"I can," you insist, showing a little fight.
"I love that enthusiasm. But—enthusiasm can only get you so far," says Rei. "So you gotta choose."
"But, I can't choose," you continue, feeling Rei's grip tighten, but not painfully so. More like a challenge.
"You have to," Rei reiterates, her tone sterner yet playful.
"What if—what if I want the both of you?" you're pleading now, knowing damn well this opportunity won't present itself ever again.
"Hmmm—let's ask the other girl, shall we?"
Rei turns her gaze to Liz. They share a knowing smirk.
"I'm not sure. I don't think you can't handle the both of us," Liz responds, rubbing a hand on your thigh, making you tremble.
"Not even for a second?" you insist.
"Nope. No exceptions," says Rei, firm and final. “So you have to choose."
"But I haven't done—"
Another firm clasp of your cock, another pump through Rei's deft hand. She's leaving you gasping, reeling. The world suddenly feels like it's spinning on its head.
"Maybe we should pick for you," Rei suggests, and she's released your cock in place of the gold top she's wearing.
Quickly unhooking the clasp from her back and letting the zipper fly, she lets the piece of clothing free from her body, revealing—nothing. Casually tosses it aside to the floor, her tits are fully out: shapely, lush, and as big as some of those fansites and suspect fancams have captured. Liz, feeling touchy-feely, gives one of her breasts a firm squeeze, and Rei smiles at her, warm and genuine.
You can only imagine what they are like behind closed doors, but this is as close as you can get to finding out.
As much as you want to touch them, to know how they feel in your hand, you don't. Not even move a single muscle, especially when they have you pinned like this.
"How bad do you want it?" Rei asks. Liz is still feeling her.
You shake your head, too lost for words.
"Jiwonnie, your turn."
Rei turns to Liz, the two sharing grins back as she, in turn, unclasps her own bra, revealing her own shapely chest. She then squeezes Liz's breasts right in front of you, equally affectionate. They even exchange kisses while they're at it.
For a moment, you're nothing. A ghost.
But they're not stopping: Rei hops off you and the couch, Liz in tow, as she gets the younger member's skirt undone, digging her nails into her black underwear as she slides it down, leaving obvious nail marks and red spots on her skin. Ruffling each other's hair, making out without a care in the world, lost in their own little reverie while you just lay there and watch.
It almost feels too intrusive. (It is.)
Mid-kiss, Liz breaks. Rests her lips on top of Rei's. Tilting her head, her gaze flickers over to you, and she remembers you exist.
"Rei," she mutters, looking at her. "Still here—"
"Huh?" Rei has forgotten you completely. It takes Liz pointing you at her for her to realize. And when she realizes, she genuinely has no fucking clue.
"Oh, shit—sorry, babe." She's blushing, cheeks flustered all over in red. "We got carried away, didn't we?"
You lift an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah, kinda."
"We're not used to having an audience—at all."
"The members don't hear you?" you joke. "In that dorm?"
"Let's not ruin the illusion, okay?" Rei interjects, patting Liz's arms, redirecting her member's gaze to her.
"Right."
"Besides, I thought you wanted the both of us."
The two women turn their attention back to you. Their gazes are otherworldly; one moment they look sweet, picture perfect, a frame worthy of cameras and adoring fans. The next: sultry, sensual, lethal. "So—have you—"
"Yes," you reply, not needing to finish the question.
Rei and Liz saunter back to the couch, taking their places on your lap and between your legs, respectively.
Propping you against the back of the cushions, sitting you upright, their laughs hauntingly fill the space between you and them. Then, the hands come back to claim their stake: one from each idol, stroking your cock, sometimes intertwining fingers, padding their digits with more of your precum. Your helpless, low groans complement their satisfied, playful giggles.
"Feels good to play with an actual cock for once." Rei gives your shaft a light, playful slap, like messing with a guitar. Enough to knock the little wind off your sails. "God, I wasn't ready to waste a second dildo in a month—"
"Shhh." Liz makes the silence gesture, smiling gently at Rei. "He doesn't need to know that."
Rei dips her head down as she tilts you forward. Your face melts against her firm, heavenly chest. Squeezing them comes naturally; they feel warm and handful, molded like they were meant for you. Her cute little moans fill the air, undeniably stimulated and aroused. Meanwhile, Liz has taken a seat next to you, brushing the skin of your shoulder blades, slowly, softly, like a feather.
"How do they feel?" she palms the back of your scalp, driving you in further.
Somehow, you manage to utter a single word against her suffocating skin: "Good."
"That's not a proper answer, You can do better than that."
"Great."
"Still not enough."
"They're the best—Rei—"
"Mhm. There we go."
She's grinding on you now, eyes fluttering shut, chest heaving, hips rolling up and down your skin in a slow, decadent rhythm that makes you wish she was actually bouncing on your cock than merely teasing. But it doesn't matter; not when you have your hands all over tits, pinching her nipples, sucking, indulging in them.
"Fuck," is all that escapes Rei's mouth as her grip on your skull loosens. Liz observes intently, biting her lip, resting her head on her chin, like she were studying and not preparing to take you next. Your face is burning red all over; whether from the heat of Rei's chest or from the sudden wash of embarrassment of being watched like this, you have no clue. The only solace is knowing that you're here, exactly where they want you to be.
Before it even registers, your hands fall on Rei's waist, gently lifting her rather feathery figure into the air and slamming it against your cock. The world stops when she cries out in pleasure.
"Oh fuck!"
She pushes your face away from her chest. Looks down at being embedded to the hilt. You and Rei's breaths come in quick, tense gasps. Liz lifts her head, ready to intervene at a moment's notice. For a moment, there's a danger that a line has been crossed, a boundary overstepped.
Then Rei forces you back into her chest and starts riding you again.
"C'mon. You want it that fucking bad? Give me all of it."
And you do exactly that: meet her halfway with each thrust, firmly grip her tits and consume them like you've found an oasis in the desert. Rei drowns in it—the kisses, the satisfied hums rippling through her chest, the way your cock fills her tight, wet cunt with each stroke—every little thing doing its part to make the feeling so otherworldly.
Right now, it's just two bodies coming together naturally, like pieces in a puzzle.
"Fuck, Rei—" you mutter against her tits, not stopping to breathe, not that you had any intention to. "I've wanted this—wanted you so fucking bad—"
She's too engrossed in pleasure to hear a thing; the sensations overwhelm her left and right, taking control of her body, moving of its own accord. Her words, when they come, they're from another place: "So good—you fill me so fucking well—"
And the pleas come naturally too. 'Harder' and 'more' and 'right there—'
You're kissing up her collarbone, letting Rei's warmth utterly swallow you whole. Guided only by instinct and the cadence of wet skin slapping against wet skin, you find Liz lost in her own pleasure too: she's sitting on the couch from a distance, two fingers pressed against her cunt, rubbing in quick, hurried strokes, equally as aroused, if not more.
Maybe this is what they were referring to: that they haven't had anything but dildos and each other for a while, they've forgotten what real cock feels like.
Or maybe they're just horny. Definitely that.
Your bodies cling to each other like oxygen. Any sense of rhythm has been lost in favor of raw, primal instinct. Just fucking go. Harder and harder. Faster and faster. Whether it be your own thrusts or her crashing into you, not giving the other any respite. A fire burns in your souls that can't be quenched or satiated.
"Shit—you're gonna make me cum—" Rei mutters, her nails digging into your scalp one more, tilting your head upwards. Her collarbones and neck are marked red, fresh with bite marks and wet kisses of your own.
It only serves to fan the flames even wider.
"Do it," you command, growling, squeezing her tits as hard as you can, pointed with an edge you didn't know you had. "Make a fucking mess, baby."
You drive the point home with thrusts that are equally demanding and aching, forcing every last bit of resolve into her needy, quivering cunt. Each stroke is a punctuation, a statement, a declaration of utter want.
"Fuck—fuck—I'm gonna cum—I'm gonna cum—"
Rei's thighs clamp around your waist. Her fingernails dig deeper, and her pussy tightens around your cock, her walls closing in, drawing every last inch of your shaft.
"Cum for him, Rei." Liz stirs from a distance; she's merely a few feet away and it carries over through the wind. "Make him feel it."
Her command is what ultimately upends her: this cheeky little character, now drowning in a puddle of her own slick, cumming, screaming out in ecstasy as her orgasm hits like lightning. Her body trembles violently, eyes rolling into the back of her head.
As the high fades, so does her sharp cry, going hoarse and weak. But the euphoria doesn't stop.
You keep her in the air, suspended, filled with cock, still, and let her ride it out.
"Fuck, look at her." Liz appears awestruck at her friend's orgasm, slowing her strokes down. "Look how much she's cumming."
Rei's mind is gone. Her pussy is dripping all over, coating your cock in a thick layer of her nectar.
And it doesn't take long for you to follow.
Still pumping into her, far beyond your own control at this point, when she's a melting pile of flesh, you let it all go: thick and hot and unforgiving when it happens. Every drop poured into her needy cunt, staining the leathers and making deep marks on your skin that will stick for more than just one night.
"Oh God—so much—you came so much—"
"Yeah, give her that," Liz coos, distant but alluring. "She deserves it."
When the final drops are spent, you let Rei collapse onto the sofa. A thin connection of cum, thin and fragile, stretches as you pull out till it splits apart and dissolves onto the sofa. And the moment her bare, sweat-licked skin touches the cushion, she's out like a light.
"Is she alright?" you ask, dumbfounded, panting, trying to catch your breath.
"That's normal," Liz reassures you, standing up and sauntering over to your side. "Tends to happen after a nice orgasm. I know. I've seen it plenty."
"Doesn't sound normal," you quip, lightly smiling back.
"She'll be fine," she insists, cupping your face. "But right now, it's my turn."
Liz pulls you in for a kiss. It's soft and gentle and caring, nothing like the rough, primal energy that drove Rei's desire.
"Fuck—seeing you take her like that—" she mutters against your breath, "I want it too. But—"
Her hand snakes down to your withered cock, pumping slowly, gently, trying to breathe new life onto it. Nothing. Just a tired, exhausted groan from a man who's seen too much, felt too much, knows too much in a single night.
She tries laughing it off. "Ah. Right."
There it is: her trademark sense of humor. The way she casually jokes no matter the situation, how it's not far off from how she presents herself in vlogs, on camera, with the other members. Another sign that this is real. This is actually them.
"See something you like?" she then asks—and where do you even start.
Her smooth, toned legs. The way she slowly spreads them to reveal the dripping, wet pussy beneath. That hourglass physique. Smooth, toned abs that she barely shows, but Christ—you just want to dip your head and bury yourself in her warmth, her creamy, pristine skin.
"I'll let you choose. So long as you put that dick in me after."
Deal of the fucking year.
You push Liz forward, off the couch and softly come together on the glass table. Her back arches, body naturally sliding forward as you splay her like she's the most expensive piece of art in the world. Shoving aside the slowly melting, trickling bucket of ice and champagne that's been mostly forgotten up until this point, you go down and just—worship her.
She hums, satisfied, low, the occasional moan spliced in between, that it might as well be music. You're kissing from her neck and collarbones, soft and airy, creating little shudders coursing through her lithe frame. Down to her tits, giving them a handful, feeling how perfect they fit in your palm, how surprisingly shapely they are, when you consider Rei's just right there, unconscious, blissfully unaware.
Leaving a trail of tender, delicate marks when you reach her tummy, looking up occasionally to see the relaxed, gratified look on her beautiful face. Eyes fluttered shut, the way her breaths came in slow and steady, picture-perfect—just how you've always imagined.
And when you finally spread her inner thighs ever so slightly wide, giving yourself a clear view of how unabashedly, shamelessly wet she is—fuck. She might be more depraved than Rei.
You take your tongue. Drag it slow, up and down her slit—and Liz fucking keens.
"Ah—shit—don't tease—"
"No promises," you tell her, the sound muffled with her cunt, and you keep going.
From the way her thighs tremble, her hands scrambling to grab a hold of something, anything, her body writhing, her moans, her sighs, her everything. The way she moves, the way her voice cracks every other groan. How she bites her lip, holding her breath, then exhaling, letting the tension flow out.
How her hips roll and grind, urging you to go faster.
"Fucking eat me out, baby," she demands, her fingers curling around your hair, tugging you closer, if that even's possible. "Don't fucking tease."
And you oblige.
You flatten your tongue, pressing it flat against her folds, and lick. Wet, sticky, messy.
Liz absolutely loses it.
Her grip tightens on your hair, her body shudders violently, and the scream is enough to be heard outside.
"Fuck!"
Your mouth is coated in her juices, the taste lingering and sticking, but you can't get enough. It just—sucks you in, like she was meant to be consumed.
So you dive back in, and Liz is left to her own devices.
"Fuck—baby—yeah, right there, fuck," she whines, her breathing hitching, her body unable to contain itself.
The noises. The way she sounds. It's driving you crazy too.
"Goddamn, baby, you're so good," she whimpers, her words becoming incoherent, the pleasure building and building.
"Are you gonna cum?" you hum against her skin, a momentary pause, and the sight is glorious. Liz is an utter mess, her body trembling and shaking, her lower half completely soaked, her stomach glistening under the warm light.
"Please—not yet—I want to be—fucked—fuck—"
But you don't hear. Not really. Not when she's so ready, so wet, and tastes so good on your lips.
So you continue to devour her cunt, splayed and wet and constantly dripping, , as if it were the only thing capable of quenching your insatiable thirst. Even as she continues to beg, her thighs betray her, closing in naturally on your head as you eat her out.
For a moment, it seems like you won't stop.
Then you just—do.
One last kiss for her pussy, leaking on the marble table, pooling around her legs, and you watch: how exhausted and frantic she looks, how easily she folds. Her hands cling to her chest, her breaths coming in heavy, and she writhes on her side, the sensations unbearable, the pleasure overwhelming.
"Why'd you stop—"
"You said you didn't want to cum yet," you answer, casually, rolling her onto her stomach.
She laughs lightly. It ripples through her body in small, visible shockwaves. "And what if I wanted to cum right then and there?"
"No you didn't," you tell her, laying her prone, raising her lower half. Her back arches naturally, pressing her ass forward against your loins, like she knows what's about to happen.
"Glad I didn't miss this," Rei suddenly whispers against your back, and it surprises you; you look over your shoulder out of instinct. You'd forgotten that she was unconscious. "Jiwonnie, you're still so fucking loud."
"Told you she'd be okay," Liz mutters from up ahead, airy, still clearly in need of air, disregarding her member's little jab. Even through her long hair, she manages to find you over her shoulder. "Now fuck me. Let her watch."
"That's right. Fuck her like you fucked me," Rei adds, seductive, tilted up, meeting your gaze. She's got her nails dug deep into your skin, like she's puppeteering you. "Make her scream."
As if you needed any more reasons to be hard again.
You slide a hand down—or up—Liz's waist, the other with your hard cock, lined against her aching core. She trembles at just the touch—vivid, violent, ready. Rei's touching up your hair, your scalp, leaving small kisses on your back and skin. All three of you, somehow pressed together on an expensive table—and it isn't even remotely close to shattering. But you've seen stranger things happen tonight alone.
And you thrust into her without hesitation.
"Oh fuck!"
As expected, she cries out in pleasure and pain, enough to split your eardrums had you been a few inches closer.
Slamming into the depth of her cunt, how incredible does she feel—how effortlessly it slips into her heat after being so wet, so needy, that it feels like coming home. You let yourself bask in the pleasure of filling her for a moment, relish the sensation of her walls flexing and pulsing against your cock. Your head tilted back, eyes closed, taking in slow, deep breaths, ignoring the nails clawing at your back and on your neck, slowly wrapping around you like a vice.
You can't help but mutter it over and over like a prayer. Till your own voice cracks. "So tight—so fucking tight—"
"What are you waiting for," Rei murmurs against your ear, her arms wrapped around your shoulders, her breasts pressed deep against your back, her entire weight leaning on you. "Fuck her. Hard."
"Yes," Liz gasps, her body jolting and twitching with each word. "Hard. Please."
You pull out, almost all the way, till only the tip is left, and slam back into her.
"Holy shit," she whines, and her voice is broken, desperate, needy. "You feel so big—I can't—"
You can't see her face, but her expressions are probably priceless. Then again, the way your cock disappears and reappears in her cunt, with each thrust coating you in fresh waves of slick, is more than enough.
"Again," Rei commands, and you repeat the process, pulling out, and slamming back into her, quick, rough, that makes the table shake and the glasses rattle.
You have both hands on Liz's waist, her back in full view, her head bowed. She's taking every inch without complaint, without resistance—and you settle at a pace that's just right. Not too rough to have her gripping the table, have her screaming from the top of her lungs, but not slow that it feels unsatisfactory, that demands faster. The steady rhythm of wet skin slapping against skin guides every thrust, fading naturally into the background along with the club music from the outside—an indicator that the party is livening up.
"Tell us how much you love his cock, Jiwonnie," Rei teases.
"Rei, please," Liz sighs, a weak attempt at protest.
"Come on, Jiwon-ah," Rei coaxes, sweet and honeyed, her lips soft and warm. The gentle pecks she leaves on your shoulder, on the crook of your neck, are so comforting. "Just say it."
"It's big. So fucking big—" she answers, her words turning into a high-pitched squeal the next, her body shuddering. "And it fills me so good—fuck—right there, please, right there—ugh—"
Just like that, her plea just activates you. Your primal instincts naturally take over.
The pace you've meticulously been carrying—it starts out a few thrusts quicker, something she should be used to. Then all of a sudden, you have one hand yanking her long, luscious locks, tilting her gaze up, wishing there was a mirror large enough to reflect just how pornographic and sinful this is. Liz is back to screaming now, every word uttered a demand, another button pulled on the trigger.
"More—please—right there—that's it—harder—"
You're not sure in which order she says it, or how many times she begs, but you do exactly that. Each stroke deep, buried to the hilt, till she's on her fours now instead of ass up and lain prone on the table. And no matter how seemingly violent it gets, no matter how much the table rattles and shakes, it doesn't veer to the point of falling apart. It's almost as if it's trying to test you—to see how far you'll go, what limits can be pushed.
"Yes—fuck—you're fucking her so well—" Rei mutters against your skin, looking small behind your back, but her eyes linger on her friend and member getting used like this. "God, I can honestly cum just watching you—"
But you don't really pay attention. Your focus narrows on Liz, the way her body rocks with each pump, how it kindly responds, how her cries go back and forth between stable and cracked.
"Please—I'm so close—" Liz whines, shuddering as you drill into her again and again. The table is puddled with her slick now, reaching your knees, spilling onto the carpet below.
"Go on, then." Rei peeks her head out from behind you, like she'd been waiting for this very moment. "Cum for him. Make sure he gets every drop."
"He's going to break me—he's so deep—he's going to break me—"
"Almost there," you groan, and you have her by the neck, holding her up, her back arching further, her tits bouncing. "I'm going to fill you up."
"Yes, please," she moans, her voice breaking. "Fill me up, please."
It's a race to the top—or bottom—and it's neck and neck.
A handful of frenzied thrusts, a few strokes, a few moments where the world goes still, and you can't hold back anymore. You're still wearing the ache from Rei, and it's come back to haunt you now.
"Gonna cum again," you growl, and the sensation is overwhelming, a tidal wave crashing into a dam.
"Yes, yes, yes," Liz chants, her tone a staccato, her body shaking. "Fill me, fill me, fill me, please."
Right as you're about to finally come undone—
"Cumming—oh God—" she cries out, and that's the last thing you hear before everything goes dark.
Your mind goes blank; nothing registers for a few precious moments. You don't know who went first: you or Liz. What does matter, when you regain cognizance, is that it feels hot and heavy. And so, so satisfying.
You see this: your cock, deep inside Liz's needy womb, throbbing relentlessly, her cunt milking you for all your worth. In return, torrents of her nectar flood your shaft, the table somehow still holding the world and everything that's on it (you three), her body violently trembling through your collective climaxes. Even still, you don't stop, at least not right away—you're still pumping into her, riding out what little semblance of control you have left, letting her drain you till your very last drop.
And then you finally stop. Your body finally concedes. Again. The table stops rattling too.
Gripping onto Liz's waist like she's your only lifeline, like she's oxygen, buried deep to the hilt, when you pull away, it stings. It aches. It cries out like it doesn't want to leave, but you have to. And when you do, her pussy's dripping, gushing in your cum. And it's a beautiful sight.
"Holy shit," is all Rei can say, sliding off your back and onto the crescent-shaped couch.
"God—it's so deep—" Liz whimpers out, low, her mouth hanging wide, "So full—so, so much—"
You wonder if she'll just collapse right then and there, the same way Rei has. She remains on her fours, not moving, just breathing, her pussy still leaking with your cum, trying to let everything sink in. Maybe this is the breaking point, where the table finally gives up. You're afraid if you move away, it'll collapse like it was supposed to.
But no. Nothing happens. You cross a nonexistent bridge back to the couch and join Rei, and Liz is just—there. Stuck on the table, frozen in time like a statue, like an art piece. A messy, sticky masterpiece.
"Isn't she perfect?" Rei remarks, now lain back with a leg raised. She sounds so casual about it.
"Mm," is the only sound you manage. The answer is deliberately vague. Your head is spinning, your body is in shambles, and you don't know what's gonna happen now.
Then Liz begins to move. Slowly but surely, she turns around, still on her fours, and crawls over to the couch. When she no longer feels the weight of glass underneath her, she finally slumps on the cushions—and exhales.
"This—tonight—has been—a lot."
There are no better words to describe what has transpired. A simple night out with a friend, a favor to repay, ends with you and two of your favorite idols hidden away in some expensive private lounge, doing unspeakable deeds. Actions that would ruin both you and their lives should word wind up even in questionable—not just wrong—hands.
And the thing is: the night is still young.
So when Rei pushes you onto your back, laying you back on the couch, and Liz, who you thought should be a goner at this point, are now atop of you, sharing a look and then smiling gently at you, you know you're still very much getting started.
—————
The end comes like any other thing too good to be true: a mere phone call, an insistent buzz that shatters an otherwise peaceful room.
All three of you are lying on the floor. Rei to your left and Liz on your right, a perfect body sandwich, flailing your hands, lazily reaching for the source. Rei fishes it out of a pocket miraculously, none of you know whose clothes belong to who (other than yours—you left your phone at the entrance). The number is familiar to everyone.
"Wonbin," she mutters as the screen brightly flashes against her eyes. "Think this is yours," she adds before handing it over to you.
So you answer the call. Of course it's him.
"Hello." It comes out hoarse, raw, like you'd been stretched for hours—which you were.
"Yeah, we gotta go now," he says from the other side of the line. "Turns out dad got the family a flight in 4 hours so we gotta bail. Sorry to ruin—um—whatever you had going on."
And all you can think in the moment is: God, Wonbin is the fucking worst. You can't even have this.
"Yeah. I'll see you in five," you manage to utter, even with your disappointment.
They don't say a word, don't question your abrupt departure; they've heard the call. From the star, they knew this was only temporary, merely their part of the agreement, a deal. But you wish they genuinely felt something.
Because you did.
Even as you rush to dress up, they just stay there. Sat on the floor, watching you pick up the pieces, returning to a life that they have a part in, but will never really see.
Maybe they won't ever see you again.
So as you give them one final look as you ready yourself to walk out the door, they give you a simple pair of smiles. Picture-perfect, public-ready, trained smiles. Liz even goes as far as to raise a hand to wave goodbye. But breaking through that veneer, there's a tiny flicker, a dash of sincerity that makes you believe that there's something more.
And for you, that's more than enough.
—————
The ride home is quiet. Awkwardly, eerily quiet.
Wonbin’s taken up the other backseat. A driver, one of the family butlers, has been sent to pick you both up. He left his car back at the valet, he said, that another servant will take it back later, since he's needed at home immediately.
You're both staring out the windows, watching the city quietly pass you by. Neither of you dare to glance at the other. Questions will be raised. About what happened in those rooms. About what you did with Rei and Liz. About what he did with Yujin and Wonyoung.
But you're pretty sure you already know. He does. Both of you. It's all over your faces. Flushed, bright red with embarrassment. The silence in the car says it all.
All you can think about is how it ended—not the phone call, but the last thing they did before your bodies finally gave out for good: Rei and Liz taking turns with your cock in their mouths while you laid back and watched them share it between themselves, until you came a few more times and they painted their faces with your cum and made a scene out of it.
The rest is a blur you can't fully remember; only flashes and images: more of them sucking your cock, except you're on two feet, somehow, with your hands tangled with their hair. Pouring the champagne and whiskey on their bodies for you to lick off, Rei getting your cock between her tits, Liz riding your face while Rei is riding your cock again and they were making out on top of you—
"Dude." Wonbin's finger snaps you out of your daze, finally breaking the tension. "Talk to me. What was it like?"
You stare at him like he's a stranger for a few moments. A minute, even. "What is even there to talk about?"
"You know." He gestures at nothing, referring to the nightclub, the girls, everything.
There are so many things to say. Many different answers. You could say it's the best night you've ever had. That he's the bestest friend that anyone could ever ask for. That he's the greatest person in the whole goddamn world.
Instead, you say, "It was a gift. One I will always appreciate."
Wonbin seems satisfied with the answer, nodding. "Well, I'm glad. This is probably the only time I'll get to do something like this."
"Something like what?"
"I mean, you know—actually do something nice. For a friend."
He's smiling—not mischievous, not teasing, but genuinely, truly smiling. Like he's actually done something meaningful in his life for once. Maybe this is what you truly owe him: a reason to care, evidence to show that he does, actually, mean something to someone.
The anger you felt when you left is gone. All is well.
"You're not gonna tell me what happened, are you?" he then asks.
"Of course not. Why? Are you?"
Wonbin breaks into that playful grin. His eyes light up at the question. "Of course! Remember when I said Yujin and Wonyoung were mine—"
You smile. That's all you can really do.
(Until the car stops at your apartment five minutes later while he's barely getting started and he vows to finish the story when he gets back from Switzerland after his car begins moving away again.)
—————
(A/N: holyshit im sorry this took for-fucking-ever
but yes. your boy is working an internship that has effectively drained this man's soul. 7-5 weekday shifts for only $1.80 a day is no fuckin joke man. all that just to graduate. we're almost there. the only respite i have is that the ive concert is only a few weeks away as of writing. and these gold and black fucking outfits man. all of them look so fucking insane its actually driving me crazy. i've had this on my mind for a bit, and i wasn't gonna do annyeongz justice, but couplez were just as hot in these fits. i cannot wait to see these up close in person, especially the attitude dance break that inspired this fic, shit's gonna be crazy. this extended break was the only way i was gonna somehow finish the fic and just in time for the show as well. but at the same time, i need money in some shape or form because lord knows finding a job in the big 2026 is damn near impossible. anyway, here's hoping the next fic will drop sooner than later. 5th anniversary is upon us, and i have a lot of things to get off my chest. to better days ahead. thank you for reading!)