Firaga Armor

You've never been much of an "alpha male", and frankly, you're fine with that. Your childhood is a classic tale: always last picked in school sports, struggled to make many guy friends, called every homophobic slur under the sun just for having basic hygiene. Despite it all, you ended up in an alright place—a quiet and unassuming existence.

Then, you met Kazuha, and your quiet and unassuming existence turned upside down.

"He ordered the chicken sandwich, not the burger," she scolds, dropping the tray of food onto the counter with enough force to send a couple fries flying.

You meekly tug her sleeve. "It's fine, really—"

"Hush, baby." In an instant, she shuts you up with a quick glance with those piercing eyes. "Let momma handle this."

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," the cashier says with his squeaky, prepubescent voice. "I'll have the kitchen put a rush on his chicken sandwich right away. Uh, may I interest you in a free dessert for your troubles?"

Kazuha turns to you, patiently waiting for your answer.

"Uh, I guess a vanilla milkshake wouldn't be so bad—"

"Vanilla milkshake," she repeats, leaning against the counter. "And no cherries. My boyfriend doesn't like cherries."

The cashier gulps, his Adam's apple practically disappearing in sheer terror. "U-uh, yes ma'am. No cherries. Understood."

"Good." Kazuha shoots him one final glare before taking your hand and leading you back to your booth.

"You didn't have to do that," you mutter. "I would've been fine with the burger."

She slinks into the seat across from you with a huff. "It's not what you ordered though. And I know how much you like the chicken sandwich at this place."

You shrug. "The burger isn't that bad."

"Then why didn't you order the burger?" She raises her brow in that "I'm right and you know it" kinda way that you're all too familiar with.

"Well…"

Kazuha reaches across the table and lifts up your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. "Repeat after me: Thank you for fixing my order, Kazuha. You're the best," she says in a high-pitched voice.

You chuckle softly. "I don't sound like that."

"Say it."

"Thank you for—"

"Do it in the voice."

"Wha—I'm not gonna do t—"

"Do it!"

Her outburst attracts some unwanted attention from other tables, making you shrink in your seat. "Kazuha, people are looking…"

Her lips curl into that smirk—the one that never fails to make your heart do a somersault even after eight months of dating. "Aw, sorry," she brushes her thumb against your bottom lip, "did I embarrass you, baby?"

"W-whatever." You pull away before you do something that'll get both of you kicked out for overt PDA. "Thanks for fixing my order. You're the best," you utter flatly.

Kazuha sits back, arms behind her head and chin held high like those cool kids in old movies. "I know. I'm pretty fuckin' sick."

"And humble too."

The cashier from earlier drops off your food, making an effort to avoid looking Kazuha in the eye. "Here you go, is there anything else I can get you two?" he asks.

Kazuha looks over at you for an answer. "No, thank you," you say. You swear you see him breathe a heavy sigh of relief as he walks away. Poor guy.

"I feel bad," you unwrap your chicken sandwich, the one you ordered initially. "He's probably got enough things going on without us giving him grief."

"Relax babe, we're doing him a favor. Now he knows not to mess up people's orders," she points out, coolly tossing a fry into her mouth.

"Still," you linger on the flakes of salt on her lip for a second too long, "you know how badly service people are treated on the daily. I don't wanna add to that."

"Then don't. I'll do it for you," she smirks.

"Kazuha, that's not funny."

"What, I didn't laugh."

"Yeah, but you're smiling."

"I'm smiling because you're cute."

You bite your tongue, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of a grin. Unknowingly or not, she sets her food to the side and leans forward, eyeing you like a piece of art.

"Ugh, I hate when you do that," you mutter.

"Do what? I'm just lookin' at ya." Her eyes trace over your lips, and you wonder if she'll like the taste of that new chapstick you just bought.

"I'm trying to eat."

"Am I disturbing your eating?" You feel her foot press against your calf, drawing slow lines with the toe of her boot.

Trying to win against Kazuha is a sisyphean task. She does what she wants, and you follow her around like a loyal puppy. Behave well enough, she'll give you a treat—and just like any puppy, you like your treats.

"Not here, at least," you pout. "I haven't had a single thing to eat all day."

"Aww." She gives you one last drag against your leg before settling back into her seat. "Okay, I'll let you eat."

"Thank you."

Even then, you find your foot gently rubbing against hers as you eat. You can act annoyed all you want, but face it: you're completely smitten with Kazuha.

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"Baby?" Kazuha grabs a leather jacket off of the rack and holds it up to her torso. "What do you think?"

"I think," you sigh, "you have way too many leather jackets."

"What's wrong with that? I'm a collector."

"That looks exactly like the one you bought last week." You take a closer look at the oddly familiar looking tag. "I'm pretty sure that is the exact same one."

"Oh." She takes one last look at it before putting it back. "See, this is why I like having you around. I've probably saved, like, a billion dollars thanks to you."

"Whatever," you chuckle, linking your arm with hers. It's just common sense, you think, but the warmth of her compliment is leagues better than being right.

The two of you pass by racks and racks full of the new wave of summer trends. Personally, you've always been a fan of the fall—cardigans, sweaters, the ability to wear jeans without your legs feeling like tinfoil-wrapped burritos. You and summer are just a match made in Hell. Inevitably, it comes around to torment you for three months out of the year and you're forced to scramble for a wardrobe that won't burn you alive.

"See anything you like?" Kazuha asks.

You scan the men's section, grimacing at the typical suspects that plague the shelves—tank tops, cargo shorts, ugly graphic tees with abominations like "summer vibes" written all over them. "Not really."

"You sure?" She grabs a simple black tank top off the rack. "This one seems pretty nice."

You physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Something like that would only look good on her, with her pretty arms that are deceptively strong, and when she flexes, you can see the shadows dance around her biceps, which reminds you of that one time she put you in a chokehold as a joke and you could feel her muscles pushing against your throat, and you were so mesmerized by the feeling that you forgot to fight back, and—

"Baby?" Kazuha shakes you out of your trance. "You okay?" she chuckles.

"I-I'm good." You wipe away the droplet of drool that almost leaked from your lips. "Let's keep looking."

Deeper and deeper through the men's section you go, yet nothing seems to tickle your fancy. Go figure. You knew looking for clothes this time of year would be futile, but Kazuha wanted to hang out and you already said yes before realizing how much of a waste of time this would amount to.

"Ugh, these all suck," you groan.

"Maybe we'd have found something by now if you weren't so picky," Kazuha points out, brow raised at you.

"Not all of us were born to look good in just about anything," you bite back with a cheesy grin. "Some of us have to put effort into looking nice."

"Hey, don't blame me for being sexy." She drapes her arm around your shoulders, and for a split second, you think she's going to put you into another chokehold. So close. "I don't want you overheating just because you're being stubborn, baby."

"I'm not being stubborn, I just—"

You glance over at the women's section and stop at one of the mannequins. It's wearing a simple outfit, fitting for the weather, but what catches your eyes is the skirt—floor length and ruffled, made of a pure white cotton that seems to dance, even on the still mannequin. 

For one reason or another, you can't take your eyes off of it. It wouldn't be too hard to fit into your current wardrobe, and it's a much nicer alternative to the dull beige of all the cargo shorts that seems to infect every corner of the men's options. But, it's just—you're a guy, and Kazuha, well—you already wonder why she even likes you, and—

Kazuha follows your gaze. "Are you getting the hots for the mannequin?" she teases.

"W-what? No, I just—maybe we can find somewhere else to—"

She grips your hand before you have a chance to escape. "Hey, be honest with me." Her voice turns softer, more sincere compared to her usual mischief. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, I—" You peer into her round eyes. They're void of any kind of judgment or disgust, the usual reaction you expect when girls you're interested learn of your 'peculiar tastes'. "I just thought the skirt was pretty. That's all."

"Pretty on me, or pretty on you?"

"Well, of course you'd look pretty in it—"

"Hey." She tilts your chin up, the tip of her thumb pressing your bottom lip. You practically sink into her touch. Never have you felt a presence safer than Kazuha's.

"I… wanna try it on," you admit shyly. "Is that okay?"

She bares her pretty white teeth at you before pressing a soft kiss onto your lips. "Of course you can, baby. You don't need my permission to wear whatever you want."

Heat creeps up your cheeks like lava bubbling to the top of a volcano. "Thanks," you utter, biting back your excitement at the thought of looking pretty.

The second your staring at your reflection in the dressing room mirror, the ruffled skirt in your hands, it all starts to feel a little too real. Your first ever skirt. The thought has crossed your mind a handful of times before, but you never thought you'd actually get to this point. If it weren't for Kazuha and her charming eyes, this moment would just be another figment of your imagination.

You take a deep breath, and you put it on—it fits. Your reflection doesn't look half bad either. The breeze between your legs will take some getting used to, and you'll need to be wary of what color underwear you wear with these, but for now, you're just in awe of how good it looks. How good you look.

You do a little twirl for fun, giggling at the way the dress flows like petals on a blooming flower. Kazuha knocks against the dressing room door. "Did you try it on yet? I wanna see."

"Yeah! Come in."

As soon as Kazuha sees you, her expression drops. In that moment, worry starts to creep into your mind.

Does she not like it?

Does she not like you?

Will she leave just like the rest of them?

All your anxieties are laid to rest as Kazuha envelops you into a tight squeeze. "Holy fuck, my boyfriend is so pretty," she breathes, rocking you back and forth in her arms. You immerse yourself in her warmth, the kind of warmth that steadies your heart and quiets your mind; the kind you want to feel every day until you die.

"Does that mean you like it?" you ask.

"I love it," she says, pecking your lips. "I'm totally buying you every single color they have."

You chuckle at her enthusiasm. "Maybe we can just stick to this one for now? Until I get used to it, at least."

"That's fine with me." Her lips find yours once again, this one a little longer, a little more tender. "It really suits you, baby."

This kiss leaves you wobbly-kneed and blubbering, reduced to a puddle of lovestruck goop in her arms. Her strong, toned arms that you somehow fit perfectly in between.

"Let's hurry up and pay for it so I can take it off you later tonight," she winks, shutting the door behind her and leaving you to feel like the luckiest boy on the planet.

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The two of you kick off your shoes by the front door of your apartment, tossing the shopping bags haphazardly on your coffee table. Those will be for future you to deal with; right now, your feet are dead from all the walking and your body is in desperate need of a bed to collapse on.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Kazuha urges, dragging you to your bedroom. In there, she collapses back onto your bed, arms above her head and her eyes staring you down like a hawk to a little mouse. "Hurry up and take me, pretty boy."

"O-oh." You gulp. "You mean, like, right now? Um—"

"What's that?" Kazuha asks, a smirk growing on her lips. On your usually tidy desk, a small pile of crumpled tissues sits next to your closed laptop, and the memory of what you did last night hits you all at once.

"W-wait, it's not what it looks like—!"

"You little freak!" Before you have a chance to explain yourself, Kazuha jumps to her feet, grabbing at your laptop with the cunning of a fox. "Ooh, let's see what kind of perversions you were watching!"

"Kazuha, don't—"

She flips open your laptop, and on the screen lies a still of the last scene you had watched—a boy with cerebral palsy and his grandma overlooking the edge of a mountain.

"What?" Kazuha asks. "Where's the porn?"

"I wasn't watching porn," you sigh in embarrassment, "I was watching a movie."

She gasps. "An adult movie?!"

"No!" 

Kazuha falls into a fit of giggles. Real mature of her.

"I was watching a… sad movie." You point at the pile of tissues. "I was crying…"

"Aw." She holds your head to her chest, kissing the top of your scalp. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make of fun of you for crying."

"It's fine." It's impossible to be upset with her when she feels this nice.

"Was it good? Can I watch it with you?"

"You want to? What about the whole, um, 'taking you' thing?"

She chuckles softly. "Maybe some other time. Walking around all day has got me feeling lazy." Kazuha crawls into your bed, cozying up under your covers. "C'mon, I wanna watch!"

You relent, following her onto your bed. "I might cry again."

"That's okay," she wraps you in her embrace, "mama's here."

You drag the little red dot all the way to the beginning and hit play, safe and sound in her arms.

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"Grandma?" Chunhe utters, cradling the box of his beloved cat's ashes in his arms.

"Hmm?" she replies.

"After you take me to school, I'll buy you a meal at the cafeteria."

His grandma smiles at him. "All right."

"And then," Chunhe continues, "Buy yourself a train ticket and go wherever you want. Go look around. Go have some fun. Let me walk the rest of my path my way. All right?"

His words may be slow or clumsy, but his sincerity cuts through like the sharpest blade, and his grandma knows this. No more is Chunhe the helpless little boy he once was; now, he stands tall against the prejudice that the world throws at him.

Even after knowing how it ends, it doesn't get easier the second time around.

"There, there," Kazuha coos, gently brushing your head. "It's okay, baby."

"Sorry," you sniffle, "It's just—"

"I know."

She holds you to her chest, letting you sob your little heart out for what feels like forever. For every tear that falls, Kazuha is there with a brush of her thumb or a comforting kiss to pick up all the broken pieces that the movie left you in.

It feels unfair, undeserved, you think, to know such tenderness like it's home. In the original script, the roles would be reversed—Kazuha sobbing into your arms while you comfort her. 

But they aren't. And even in this tenderness that you cherish so deeply, inklings of insecurities that you've long held still manage to seep through.

"Can I ask you something?" you say, wiping away at the last of your tears.

"What is it, baby?"

You breathe, slowly. "Why do you… why do you like me?"

She leans into you, the soft weight of her cheek resting on your head. "Hmm… Well, other guys just suck," Kazuha answers simply.

"Don't you ever wish I was more, uh, 'manlier' or something?"

"Hell no," she grimaces. "Those kinds of guys are the worst. I say one funny thing and they're all like 'Damn, your energy is different, for real!' and it's so annoying! I just have a personality!"

Kazuha holds you tighter, and it becomes clear just how much she wants you over any other guy. "Besides, I like my boys on the softer side." She kisses your damp cheek. "It means they have a soul."

For five years, you’ve poured and sacrificed everything you had—money, time, life even—just to show how much you adore this woman, and she certainly appreciates it. With so many memories being shared, from sneaking out late at night for a date to avoid any media to a fancy dinner out in the open, you know that she was gonna be the one that you want to lay your head upon, the one that you wanna come back home to every day, and the one that will bring you comfort just by looking at their beauty.

All in all, you loved Hwang Yeji.

Unfortunately, it has come to an end.

In such a cruel, tragic, and pure disgusting way, your whole life has turned itself upside down. All gone, in just one minute.

Five years. It took you five years to realize that everything was fake, from the very beginning. That smile when you bought her that vanilla ice cream? The teardrops she shed when you gave her that necklace? The happiness she felt when you finally came over to her new apartment?

All of the times that you have shared with Hwang Yeji were never real.

The black box in your hand feels heavy. Though it doesn’t beat the weight inside of your heart. You truly don’t know how to feel at all—it’s like everything has left your body, and all it retains are your empty regrets. Regrets on how you haven’t done everything to make her stay. Regrets that you weren’t a good partner to her. Regrets on the lack of love that you expressed towards her.

The ego comes back into the soulless body however, telling you that it was her fault all this time. You want to believe it. You really do. The hints were clear as day. You were just too caught up with your own point of view. The view of you both being madly in love with one another while in reality, it was only on your side.

You didn't even know what exactly went wrong. The other day, you were in an hour-long call with her, listening intently about all her stress at work, calming her down with words of encouragement and ended the night by tucking her into bed, like you always do. It's crucial for you to never miss wishing her days in the morning and at night, even with how busy your life can get.

If only you knew how useless they were to her.

The further you walk on these sidewalks, the deeper the pain feels. Suddenly, your hands sense an urge to open the box, letting you see the content inside—a ring. Engraved on it is the date of when you two first intertwined with one another, and it twists your stomach the more you look upon it.

25.5.20 HYJ

You laugh.

Bullshit. It's all bullshit.

No one's around to give a damn about you. Not like you need anyone anyways. You’ve accepted the fact that you're always gonna be alone. She didn't even try to find you, even after you’ve seen the truth. Maybe there's still a shed of light behind the things she had done. But with the way things are, you despise believing it.

“Sorry, but I don't think I’m ready yet.”

Yeah, of course she's not.

She wouldn't be fucking with another man if she was.

The air was cold. Colder than it usually is. It doesn't phase you. You're used to this—the freezing atmosphere is your favorite scene to have a walk with her back then, in the midst of dawn, hand in hand while she’s covered with your coat and holding you ever so tightly, not wanting to let go because you're her only source of warmth, as she claims.

Now, the flame has lost its spark, and the warmth has diminished, nowhere to be felt by anyone again.

She doesn’t love you.

Your eyes twitched, remembering the scene that unfolded hours before—the exact reason that you fell into despair. The street lamps blurred, but your memory was not at all, and you just wished for it to disappear off of your mind. But it couldn’t. The cut was too deep. Deep as she’s sinking down on another man’s dick, riding away enthusiastically, not realizing that you’re watching them in shock and horror.

Your body trembles in both fear and rage. You wanted to do something—confront them, punch this bastard directly in their face, end their life even—but you can’t move. Not because you’re tied up. Not because you’re threatened. It’s because of her. Her expressions. That darned smile, begging for more. Her eyes rolling back in pleasure, holding him so tightly while her hips move expertly onto him. She’s enjoying the moment. More than any of your moments together.

“Why…” was the only thing you could utter, before leaving the scene.

The grip on the box tightens so much that you could almost break it. It’s a useless piece of garbage at this point. Your head turns, looking at the water below—an endless void. The wind whistled through, ripples emerging to sign that it’s really there, quietly. Waiting. Inviting.

The railing disappears from your view.

There was no rush.

You simply fall.

The cold hits you like a wall, shocking the air from your lungs. Water rushed into your mouth, the taste bitter and thick. You begin to sink, and for a second, panic shoots through your brain. Your hands flapped around desperately, reaching out for the light.

Though, the words echoed in your ear, “Sorry, but I don't think I’m ready yet.” Your hands get weaker. What are you reaching out for anyway? Towards more pain and emptiness? Suffering in silence, as you watch the love of your life being taken away? Why do you need to care anymore? What was the point? To live?

She’s gone.

You stopped struggling.

The water pressed you in further from all sides. The tingling cold now turns into a heavy numbness all over your body. Your vision starts getting murky, and the light above fades as you sink deeper. Pressure builds inside of your head and lungs.

Suddenly, the box has left your hands and floats away. The little bits of hope inside of you tried to retrieve it, but it wasn’t enough. And instead, it perfectly moves right in front of your view. It’s like fate wants to give you a proper send off.

In an instant, all of your life flashes in your eyes. It has finally settled in. You reached out to the box before it sank and took the ring out. A tiny spark in the middle of this void. You held onto it tightly,

Why?

Your instincts drove you to do so.

And as fate wills it, it was the start of the next day.

You opened your mouth. Not to breathe. You’re letting go.

The water does what it does—filling itself into your chest, putting out the small flame and replacing it with emptiness. You didn’t wanna struggle anymore. You’ve accepted your fate.

The light finally vanished.

Your world darkens.

Happy birthday, Hwang Yeji. I wish you nothing but happiness.

Maybe, it was all an illusion.

And if it was, you’ll never come back to it.

The vessel died a long time ago.

But the dream still lives.

The dawn is imminent.

You're halfway there.

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a/n; from a tavern prompt to a reasonable short continuation. gets a little fucked up soooo be warned? i swear it's important to the story-

anyways, this was a part of a challenge i hosted on fanprose for beloved yejer's birthday! so if you see a sudden resurgence of yeji fics as of late, it was all me. :D

and don't worry, i'm still working on that series and a bunch of other stuff, it's just that i've been unexpectedly busy as of late, so production will be halted at some point in times 💀

Seven pounds.

Who knew twelve years in a company only weighs seven pounds in a box filled with memories of getting spitroasted day and night by CFOs when they are the ones who fucked up.

“It was a pleasure working with you Hinode-san. This is what’s best for everyone. You know that, right?”

That’s what Yamamoto-san said this morning. All you can do is nod. He shook your hand. Couldn’t even meet your eyes. Asshole. 

HR slid the NDA across the table. Fourteen pages of legal garbage establishing that you had nothing to do with any of this which really makes you wonder why you’re the one carrying the box. You signed it. Of course you did. What else can you do? 

It was going well. Corner office. On track for partner. Six months from the vote.

Now you’re carrying a box past security. “Tanaka-san.”

You’ve known him for nine years. He’s giving you nothing. Not even a glance.

“See you around, yeah?”

Nine Christmases of bringing him coffee because he pulled holiday shifts so the younger guys could stay home. You know his daughter’s birthday (never missed giving her a gift.) You know his wife cooks the best okonomiyaki in Chiyoda (god you’re going to miss the bentos she prepares for everyone every summer). Tanaka-san is a good man.

But now? He’s staring blankly into his desk like it holds the secrets to the universe. Sigh.

You don’t blame him. You wouldn’t look at you either.

The revolving door spits you out into Tokyo’s buzzing October air. Risk of rain and umbrellas and exhaust and the distinct smell of a man who used to fucking matter.

Your car is three blocks away. You start walking.

Phone buzzes, you ignore it. It’s been buzzing all day actually. Past clients, colleagues, and the occasional journalist fishing for a comment on the “developing situation at Ishikawa & Partners.” Noted. Fuck that specifically. No comment. 

Here’s what’s funny. In all of this fuckery happening within the company, becoming this week’s hot topic on social media, and the ongoing federal interrogation. All that and news flash: you were not even remotely close to being involved.

You didn’t know the partners were signing off on fraudulent audits. The machinery of corruption humming along beneath your feet: shell companies, kickbacks, under-the-table transactions that got approved for the better part of a decade. 

The worst part of all of this is you just worked there. You worked your fucking ass off every single day. You were great at your job; and now you’re walking through downtown with a box containing an Ikea desk lamp, three framed certifications, and a coffee mug your sister gave you that says “World’s Most Meh Brother.”

She thought she was being funny. Right now why the hell does it feel like she knew this was gonna happen.

Your footsteps echo as you walk through the cold parking lot. The Lexus sits where you left it this morning, back when you were still a senior manager at a prestigious firm and not whatever you are now.

Unemployable. 

(Kinda being too dramatic, no? Are you being dramatic? Name one firm that will touch you now.)

…

Yeah. It’s over. Might as well pivot to becoming a geologist since you’ve hit rock bottom.

You were not fired, technically (thank god for technicalities). You resigned, which is its own kind of joke if you think about it. You resigned because the alternative was getting laid the fuck off in the first wave of “restructuring,” and at least this way you can pretend you had some say in your own downward spiral.

Everyone knows. Everyone. Fucking. Knows.

The financial world is small, news travels fast, and by tomorrow your name will be permanently welded to the biggest accounting scandal since Polaris (and that company’s done fucked up stuff: military corruption, ties to the yakuza, basically all the red flags you can think of.) Not because you did anything wrong; because you were there. 

You put the box in the trunk. Close it. Stand there with your hand on the cold metal. Let out a deep sigh.

Phone buzzes again.

This time you look. Mom.

How did it go today Aki?

We’re praying for you.

Hope you’re doing fine.

Have you eaten yet?

Four messages in the span of thirty seconds. She must be worried, classic mom. You should call her. You should explain what happened. You should…

Phone screen darkens. 

You’ll call her tomorrow; explain that the severance is generous, that you have savings, that everything will be fine.

But not tonight. Not when the wounds are fresh.

Tonight you’re going to find a bar and drink until the numbers stop adding up in your head.

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You found a newly opened hotel in Shinjuku. The hotel bar is the kind of place that caters to shady accounts and dark secrets, you fit right in. Dark mahogany wood, warm ambient lighting, and thankfully a bartender who understands that sometimes a man needs to be served and just left alone with his bourbon.

It’s the third glass when she sits down. You feel the air thin out; must be the bourbon.

Weird.

You didn’t see anyone approaching. Didn’t hear the stool move. She’s just there, like she’s been waiting for you to notice.

Except you don’t notice her at first. 

You’re too busy staring at amber liquid, running calculations that don’t matter anymore: How much runway? Severance lasts eight months if you’re careful. Savings? Maybe another year. Parents? They definitely need the monthly support; that’s a non-negotiable. Your sister’s final year of graduate school? You promised you’d cover it, and you don’t break promises.

The numbers work, barely. As long as you find something to do in six months.

But who the fuck is going to hire you?

“You look like a man who’s doing math he doesn’t want to do.” Soft voice, slightly amused.

You look up.

She’s watching you with her dark eyes that catch the bar’s low light wrong. Pretty isn’t the word, neither is beautiful. There’s something more specific than that. Features that shouldn’t work together but create a face you can’t stop looking at. For now you settle with otherworldly.

Full lips, the kind that suggests smiles she hasn’t given you permission to receive yet. Hair dark enough to disappear into the shadows behind her. A simple black dress that definitely cost more than this month’s rent.

“Just… Running some projections,” you say. Your voice is rough, haven’t talked to a soul in hours.

“Mhmm.” She signals the bartender without looking at him. “Projections for what?”

“How long until I’m sleeping under a bridge, roughly.” (You wish you were joking.)

She laughs. Small, controlled, her face changes for a second; something flickers behind her eyes. Interest, maybe. 

“You don’t look like the bridge-sleeping type.”

“I didn’t think I was the unemployed type either, but here we are.”

The bartender sets down red wine. She picks it up, swirls it, and doesn’t drink. Pretty sure he didn’t ask what she wanted. Just set it down like he already knew.

Weird.

You’re three bourbons deep, maybe you just missed her order. Maybe she’s a regular. Maybe… 

“Ishikawa & Partners,” she says confidently. Your body tenses. “It’s on your face,” she shifts on her seat inching towards you. “That’s the kind of devastation that comes from watching something you built get burned down by people who never appreciated it. Never appreciated you.”

You take a drink, the bourbon doesn’t burn anymore. Fuck, probably a bad sign. You should probably stop drinking.

“I didn’t build anything. I just worked there.”

“For twelve years. You don’t stay somewhere for twelve years unless you’re building something.”

You didn’t tell her anything about the twelve years. You’re sure you didn’t; but the bourbon is thick in your head and she’s already moving on, and maybe you did mention it. Maybe.

She tilts her head. “What were you?”

“Senior manager, on track to become a partner.” The words taste like ash. “Six months from the vote. Then… Well, then this morning happened.”

“Ah.” She finally sips her wine. “So you didn’t just lose a job, you lost a future.”

Something in your chest tightens. First time anyone worded it correctly.

“Yeah,” you say. “Something like that.”

She’s quiet. The bar continues to hum around you. Low conversations, clinking glasses, someone’s muted laughter from a booth in the corner. Sounds from a world that kept moving while yours stopped.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Akihiro. Hinode.”

“Akihiro.” She rolls it around her mouth like she’s tasting it. “I’m Tsuki.”

“Just Tsuki?”

“For now.” That almost-smile again. “Are you always this suspicious of women who talk to you in bars, Akihiro?”

“I’m not usually the type women talk to in bars.”

“No,” She looks at you; eyes you up and down. Past the rumpled suit and the stubble that’s been growing and the distinct slump of a man who’s visually given up. “I don’t suppose you are. But tonight’s not usual, is it?”

It isn’t. Nothing about tonight is usual. Nothing about this woman is usual.

She shifts on her stool and you notice things. The way her dress catches the light (it doesn’t.) The curve of her neck where it meets her shoulder. Her lips… Which you keep looking at like a goddamn teenager who’s never seen a woman before.

Get it together Akihiro. You’re a grown man, you’ve flirted before. You know how this works, right? (It’s futile, you’re still looking at her lips.)

“You should eat something,” she says.

“Not hungry.”

“You’re also not sober. Eat something anyway.”

There’s no reason to listen to her. She’s a stranger; an otherworldly stranger who appeared out of nowhere to comment on your tragedy, which is either a fantasy or a warning sign, and you’re too drunk to tell which.

You signal the bartender and order some fries anyway.

Tsuki lets out a genuine smile that contrasts the calculated smiles she’s been giving you all night. It changes her whole face. Makes her look younger and more dangerous at the same time.

“Good,” she says. “I like a man who can take directions.”

“I don’t usually… I usually…”

“I know.”

Something in her voice makes you pause. I know. As if she actually is certain. As if she’s been watching you longer than the ten minutes since she appeared.

The fries arrive. You eat them without tasting much, but she’s right. The food helps, you’re famished. The room steadies. Your thoughts start to sharpen from blur to something approaching clarity.

“So what happens now?” Tsuki asks. “The projections. The math that’s happening in your head. What’s your plan?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Everyone has a plan Akihiro. Even if it’s just ‘survive until tomorrow.’”

You consider this. The alcohol wants you to lie and to perform competence; to pretend you’ve got this handled. But something about her makes lying feel pointless, like she’d see through it anyway.

“I’ll call in favors,” you say. “I have contacts. People who know what I’m capable of, separate from—” you gesture vaguely, trying to encompass the scandal, the firm, and the entire smoking crater of your career “—all that. I’ll reach out to all of them. See who’s still willing to give me a chance.”

“And if no one answers?”

“Then I figure something else out. I always do.”

She nods slowly, swirling her wine. Her lips still haven’t touched her glass.

“The people who did this to you Akihiro,” she says. “The partners, the ones who were actually behind all of this. Where are they tonight? What are they doing?”

The question catches you off guard; you hadn’t thought about it. You’re too busy counting your own losses.

“I don’t know. Home… Probably. Consulting with their own set of lawyers, planning their defense.”

“So they’re comfortable, then.”

“I guess.”

“Sneaking out with their mistresses. Eating dinner with their families. Sleeping in their own comfy bed. Not sitting in a hotel bar at…” she glances at her watch “...eleven-thirty on a Tuesday, doing math about potential airbnb bridges.”

You don’t say anything. You can’t. But the bourbon is wearing off and the emotion replacing it is uglier.

She then considers her glass. Looks at it for a beat, then back at you.

“Does that bother you?” she asks. “That they are comfortable and you’re here?”

“I don’t…” You stop. Start again. “What they did wasn’t personal. They didn’t do this to me. They just did it, and I unfortunately got caught in the blast radius.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Her eyes are fixed on yours. Dark, direct, steady, and somehow warmer than they should be; given what she’s asking.

“Yes,” you say finally. “It bothers me.”

“Good.” She finishes her wine in one swallow then sets the glass down. “It should.”

She stands, and you realize she’s leaving. The panic that shoots through you is irrational. She’s a stranger, you just met her. What the fuck is wrong with you?

“Wait,” you say. “Where are you…”

“I have a room upstairs.” She says it casually. “I was going to invite you, but you seem like the type who needs to be asked directly. So I’m asking.”

The words hang there. Huh? What is even happening right now? Your brain, which has spent twelve years analyzing risk and calculating probability, offers no useful input whatsoever.

“I’m not…” you start, but you don’t know how to finish. The kind of man who goes to hotel rooms with pretty strangers. You can’t make small talk right now. You’re not even sure what’s left in you to feel except this gray void that’s been eating you all day.

“You’re not what?” Tsuki asks patiently. Clearly amused at the broken man in front of her.

“I’m just a mess right now.”

“I noticed.” She holds out her hand. Slender fingers, nails painted red so dark it’s almost black. “Come anyway.”

You look at her hand. At her face. At her lips, curved into a shape that should look like a smile but isn’t quite there yet.

Every logical part of you is screaming that this is a bad idea. You are drunk, you are vulnerable, you don’t know this woman, and the last thing you need is to add “poor decisions with pretty strangers” to your ever growing list of recent failures.

Then you think: The logical parts of your brain are the parts that got you here. Twelve years of doing everything by the book; look where it landed you. Fuck it.

You take her hand.

✦⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

The elevator ride is silent. 

Her hand stays in yours. Small, warm, surprisingly smooth all throughout. You notice her features in the harsh overhead light that you missed in the bar’s dimness: The exact shape of her collarbones beneath the thin silky fabric of her dress. Her breathing pattern, slow, even, and completely controlled.

Actually, it’s almost too controlled. Her pulse should be racing; heck, yours is. When your thumb brushes her wrist, there’s nothing. It beats steady and slow. Not one bit nervous.

Then you go back to her lips. You can’t stop looking at her lips. Some shade between rose and wine that you couldn’t name but won’t forget. You’re wondering if you’re ever going to get a taste of—

“You’re staring,” she says.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” The elevator dings. Doors open. “Just know that I see you doing it.”

The hallway is long, ominous, and quiet. Thick carpet swallows your footsteps. You pass a decorative alcove, traditional masks mounted on the wall. One catches your eye: a woman’s face, features twisted between anguish and rage, small horns emerging from the forehead. Beautiful and terrible.

Tsuki ignores it, doesn’t even react. But her hand tightens in yours, just slightly, as you pass.

She produces a keycard from somewhere. You didn’t see her carrying a purse. She opens a door near the end.

The room is a suite. Large and expensive; totally out of your budget right now. It’s the kind of room someone books when money isn’t a concern. Floor-to-ceiling windows look out over the city, Tokyo lights glittering in the darkness.

You’re barely through the door when she turns and her lips clash into yours. 

Her mouth is hot and demanding, her hands fisting in your jacket, pulling you closer with a strength that surprises you. She tastes like red wine, exactly how you imagined, and there’s an aftertaste underneath it; something dark and sweet and sinful. 

Fuck it.

You return the favor and kiss her back with the same intensity. Your hands find her waist, the curve of her hips through the thin fabric. She makes a sound against your mouth that’s between a moan and a laugh.

“Good boy,” she breathes. “There you are.”

She pushes you backward until your legs hit the bed. You sit with your whole weight, and she stands over you, looking down. The lighting behind her turns her into a bewitching silhouette, edges glowing, face in shadow.

“Take them off.”

You do.

Jacket first. Tie follows, then shirt when she gestures impatiently. Cool air brushes upon your bare chest, but her gaze is hot enough to compensate.

“Lie back.”

You do that too.

There is something about the way she gives orders that makes refusal feel moot, it feels inevitable.

She climbs onto the bed. Straddles you without touching, her knees bracketing your hips, her weight hovering just above yours. The hem of her dress rides up, revealing thighs that are toned and milky and smooth and close enough to touch if you just…

You reach for her.

“No.” She catches your wrists. Her grip is stronger than it should be. Not painful, but immovable. “Hands on the headboard.”

“What?”

“Put your hands on the headboard, and keep them there.”

You reach back and your fingers find cold metal bars. You grip them, and she smiles. That smile again, the one that puts you in a trance meant to obey her every word.

“Good boy.”

Then she lowers herself slowly. Just enough that you can feel the heat of her through the fabric of your slacks but not enough to give you any real friction.

You let out a sound between a groan and a whimper. Your hips try to lift, to chase the contact, but she rises with you, maintaining the exact distance she’s chosen.

“None of that.” Her voice is light, conversational, as if she isn’t torturing you. “Stay still. You take what I give you.”

“But Tsuki I…”

“Shhhh~”

She leans forward. 

Her lips slowly brush your neck, then your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. Barely there; teasing. When you turn your head to try and capture her in a real kiss, she pulls back just far enough to deny you.

“Tsuki…”

You hear her breathe in.

“You smell like bourbon,” she murmurs against your throat. “And desperation but underneath all that, something interesting.”

Her hips roll. Once. A slow grind that drags a groan out of you despite yourself. She’s pressed against you now, heat and pressure and the thin barrier of clothing between you.

“That’s better.” Her breath is warm against your ear. “I wondered if you were still in there. If there was anything left under all that devastation.”

“I’m—”

“You’re very pretty when you’re falling apart.” She bites your earlobe. “Did you know that?”

Her hands work at your belt. She’s efficient, unhurried, and not wasting any time. She draws down the zipper, and the relief of pressure makes you gasp. Then her fingers wrap around you through your boxers, and your brain shortcircuits.

“There we go.” She strokes slowly, firmly, the fabric adding friction that borders on too much. “There’s my broken man.”

Usually you’d be offended by that. You should feel used, manipulated, reduced to something less than yourself—a plaything. But her hand is moving and her lips are tracing patterns on your throat and all you can feel is the desperate need for more.

“Please,” you hear yourself say.

“Please what?”

“More. I need…”

“I know what you need.” She pulls back. Your cock twitches at the loss of contact. “But you haven’t earned it yet.”

Before you can respond, she shifts down your body. Her fingers hook into the waistband of your boxers and pull them down; just enough to free you. The air is cool and you’re achingly throbbing hard.

“Not bad,” she says. Like your dignity isn’t spilling across the hotel sheets. “A little distracted, maybe. A little too in your head.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” She traces one finger along your length. Base to the underside then to your tip, feather-light. “You’re thinking about tomorrow, about the phone calls you need to make, the bridges you need to rebuild, the hundred small humiliations waiting for you when you walk out of this room; about everything except what’s right in front of you.”

She’s right. Even now, even with her hand on your aching cock, some part of your brain is still doing the math, calculating the odds, preparing for the worst.

“Let me help you with that,” she says.

She lowers her head. Takes her time. You watch her descend. Her dark hair falling forward, her breath warm against your stomach, your hip bone, the crease of your thigh. Deliberately avoiding your cock, which twitches and strains toward her.

“Look at you,” she murmurs against your skin. “So eager. So hungry.”

Her tongue traces a line from your hip to your inner thigh. You shudder.

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this? Really took their time with you and not just going through the motions.”

You can’t answer, can’t even remember. Your last relationship ended two years ago, the reason: Mutual exhaustion, on brand, both of you too busy building careers to build anything else. Since then, nothing. 

You hadn’t realized how starved you are for touch until now.

“That long?” She sounds amused. Her lips brush the base of your cock, and you make a sound that you don’t even want to name. “Poor thing.”

Her lips close around you. Just the tip, just enough to make you jerk against the headboard. Her mouth is hot, impossibly hot, and wet, and impossibly soft, her tongue swirling over your cockhead in patterns that should be illegal in several prefectures.

You’ve had blowjobs before, but whatever she’s doing with her tongue; your entire education has not prepared you for this.

For one perfect second, there’s nothing in your head except the sensation of her.

Then she pulls off then sits back. She wipes the corner of her mouth with one elegant finger.

“No,” you say. It comes out pathetic and broken. “Please don’t stop…”

“You taste like need.” She tilts her head. “Like someone who’s been empty for a very long time and didn’t even notice until just now.”

“Tsuki—”

“Shhhh.” She rises onto her knees. Her hands go to the thin straps of her dress, and she slides them down her shoulders excruciatingly slow. Revealing inch after inch of her perfect porcelain skin.

The dress falls to her waist. You want to touch her more than you’ve wanted anything in recent memory. Your hands twitch against the headboard.

“Stay,” she says. Like you’re a dog. Like you’d do anything she asked as long as she kept looking at you like that.

(You would. You’d bark too if she asked for it. That’s the terrifying part.)

She reaches back. The dress slithers down her hips, and she’s naked above you. Toned limbs and soft curves and that face, watching you with dark eyes reflecting nothing and seeing everything.

Her tits are fuller than you expected. Ample, perfectly shaped, nipples erect making your mouth water. You want to taste them. You want to taste every inch of her.

“You look like you yearn for my touch,” she says. 

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

She laughs, low and pleased. “You’re getting greedy. I like that.”

She takes your hand releasing it from the headboard, and brings it to her chests. Your fingers curve around the soft weight of her tits. She shivers. Just slightly; a crack in her composure.

“Like this,” she says. “Gently, like you’re learning every part of me.”

You are; making an inventory of every stimulus: The texture of her skin. The give of her mounds in your palm. The way her nipples harden against your touch. She guides your thumb across it, and her breath catches. You hear a small sound forced out of her.

“Good,” she croons. “That’s good.”

She lets you explore her with both hands now: The dip of her waist. The flare of her hips. The surprising softness of her inner thighs. You take your time, learning every curve, every part of her where your touch makes her breath trickle in intervals.

You lean up to press your lips to her collarbone, slowly tasting her; expensive rose margarita, floral notes with hints of salt. You can’t get enough of it so you continue tasting her. She doesn’t stop you this time. Her fingers thread through your hair, holding you there, letting you trace your mouth down to her decadent breasts.

You take her nipple in your mouth.

The sound she makes; low, involuntary, almost a moan. It sends electricity through you. She tastes clean, faintly sweet, definitely addicting. You roll the other nipple between your fingers, and her hips jerk against you.

“Careful,” she breathes. But she doesn’t pull away. Her hand tightens in your hair.

You worship her. There’s absolutely no other word for it. You learn the weight of her plush tits, the exact shade of those nipples, the way she gasps when you graze them with your teeth. You memorize the curve of her ribs, the softness of her stomach, the trail of heat your mouth leaves down her body.

When you reach the crease of her thigh, she stops you.

“Not yet.” Her voice rougher now. Less controlled. “Lie back Akihiro.”

You do.

She shifts down your body, and you feel her everywhere. The brush of her hair against your chest, her tits dragging across your stomach, her breath warm against your hip.

She takes you in her hand.

“Let me give this a taste,” she says as her eyes linger at your aching cock. “I want to know what you feel and taste like on my tongue.”

Before you can respond, she lowers her head. “Mhmm~”

Her mouth closes around you slowly. Going beyond the tip this time. She takes you deeper, inch by inch, her tongue tracing the underside of your shaft as she descends. Wet heat and gentle suction and the sight of her. Those lips stretched around you, her dark eyes looking up through her lashes, watching your face break apart as she swallows the whole of you down.

“God.” The word forced out of you.

She pulls back just as slowly. Her tongue swirls over your head, dipping into the slit and you can feel yourself leaking endlessly onto her tongue. She hums and the vibration nearly sends you over the edge.

“Now, you taste like want,” she murmurs against your throbbing cock. “Like someone who’s forgotten what it feels like to be touched.”

She takes you again, much deeper. You feel the back of her throat, feel her swallow around you, and your hands fist in the sheets because you’re not allowed to touch her head. You know that without being told.

She sets a rhythm designed to devour you. Slow, deliberate strokes that build pressure without release. Every time you get close to the climax, every time you feel yourself teetering on the edge, she pulls back. Lets the sensation fade. Then starts again.

“Tsuki, please—”

“Please what?”

“I need—”

“I know what you need.” She releases you with a wet pop. Your cock bobs against your stomach, wet and covered with her saliva, aching. “But you haven’t earned it yet.”

She crawls up your body. Positions herself so she’s straddling you, her heat hovering just above your desperate erection. You can feel her. How wet she is, the slick of her cunt, evidence of her own arousal painting the head of your cock as she slowly shifts.

“Do you want it inside?” she asks.

“Yes.” The word comes out broken. “Please. God. Yes.”

She reaches down. Takes your length in her hand. Guides you until you’re pressed against her entrance. Wet, incredibly hot, the promise of her right there.

She doesn’t let you in.

Instead, she rocks. A slow, torturous grind that slides your cock through her folds, coating you in her arousal, the head catching against her clit on every pass. She shudders when it does. Small tremors that tell you she’s not as unaffected as she pretends.

“Feel that?” she whispers. “Feel how wet you make me?”

You can.

The slick glide of her against you. The heat that radiates from her. The way her lips part around your shaft without quite taking you in. Just barely. Everything you want, just out of reach.

“Let me,” you beg. Your hands find her hips, trying to pull her down. “Tsuki, please, let me—”

“No.”

She grinds harder. Your cock continues to slide through her silky folds, grazing against her clit, and she gasps. Unguarded. Her eyes flutter closed for just a second.

“Not tonight,” she manages. “Tonight you learn to want.”

“I already want—”

“Not like this.” She increases her pace. The friction is maddening. It’s driving you insane how slick and hot and so close you are to what you need. “Tonight you learn what it feels like to burn for something you can’t have.”

You’re going to come. You can feel your climax building. That inevitable pressure. Just from this. Just from the slide of her against you, the heat of her, the promise of a depth you’re not yet allowed to reach.

“Tsuki—I’m going to—”

She slows. Doesn’t lift away. Hovers. Her hand finds your jaw, turns your face toward hers.

“Tell me one thing first.”

Your brain is static. “What?”

“About yourself. Not what you did at Ishikawa. Not the career. Something true.”

You can’t think. You’ll say anything to get her to keep moving. The words come out before you decide to say them.

“I’ve been waiting for something like this. An excuse to start over. I just didn’t want it to cost me my career.”

Her almost-smile. Genuine, this time. Cracked through with something you can’t read.

“Good boy.”

She stops. Lifts herself away.

The loss of contact is physically painful. Your cock throbs against the cold air, slick and desperate. You make a sound that might be a sob, or at least close to one.

This is it. This is how you die. Not from career destruction or public humiliation, but from a gorgeous stranger edging you in a hotel room. The obituary page is going to be amazing.

“Shhhh.” She strokes your chest. Almost tender. “Breathe.”

“I can’t—”

“Yes you can. Breathe with me.”

You breathe. Ragged, broken, but you do it anyway. The urgency recedes. Barely. Just enough to keep you from spilling onto your own stomach.

“Good boy.” She rewards you by shifting back down, taking you in her mouth again. One slow stroke, base to tip, her tongue tracing the vein on the underside of your cock. Then she releases you.

“Want a taste?”

The words don’t register at first. Your brain is static. Especially after that last assault.

“What?”

“I want your mouth on me.” She moves up your body, positions herself over your face. “I want to feel your tongue inside me while you’re aching for what you can’t have.”

You look up at her. Her thighs frame your vision (you save this mental image into the deepest folds of your brain in high quality).

She’s glistening in the low city light, every wet inch of her catching the windowpane glow. Swollen and pink. Her scent hits you. Musky and sweet and intoxicating.

“Open your mouth,” she says.

You do. She lowers herself onto you.

The first taste of her is overwhelming. She’s hot against your tongue, slick and swollen, and when you trace the length of her slit, she shudders above you.

“That’s it,” she breathes. “Just like that.”

You eat her like she’s the first meal you’ve had in years. You learn the topography of her. Her soft luxurious folds, the hard pearl of her clit, the entrance that clenches when you press your tongue inside. She tastes like desire made physical. She feels like a sin you’re willing to commit.

Her hips rock against your face. Chasing your tongue, grinding down when you find the right spot. The sounds she makes are arriving faster now. 

“Your mouth,” she gasps. “God, your mouth.”

You focus on her clit. Gentle pressure, then more, reading her responses. When you suck, she cries out. You then flick your tongue in quick patterns, her thighs start to tremble.

You’re painfully hard beneath her: neglected, desperate, and somehow that makes this better. Your own need gets amplified with every sensation, every taste, every sound she lets out.

She’s close. Her movement doesn’t hide it well, the way her legs tighten around your head, her moans rising an octave higher, leaving her breathless.

Then she pulls away.

“No.” She’s panting now. Flushed. Her composure cracked but not broken. “No. That’s enough.”

“Let me finish—”

“No.” She climbs off you. Stands beside the bed. Trembling slightly, her voice is still steady. “That’s what tonight is about.”

You lie there, aching. Covered in the taste and scent of her. Your cock leaking with need.

“What is tonight about then?” Your voice sounds wrecked. You don’t care.

She looks at you. Something flickers in her eyes, almost like regret.

“Tonight is about you learning what you want,” she says. “And remembering that you’re still capable of wanting it.”

She reaches for her dress.

“What are you…” 

“That’s enough for tonight.” She pulls it on, covering all that perfect skin. “You did well Akihiro.”

“I didn’t-we didn’t-”

“No.” She looks at you over her shoulder. “We didn’t. That’s the point.”

You’re still hard, still aching, and still covered in her.

“Why?” you ask.

She walks back to the bed. Sits on the edge. Reaches out and traces a finger along your jaw. Gentle and almost affectionate.

“Because you came here to feel nothing,” she says. “And I wanted to show you that you can’t. That underneath all that careful numbness, there’s still something alive.”

“That’s…”

“Cruel? Maybe.” She leans in. Presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. Pulls back before you can deepen it. “But I think you needed cruelty tonight Akihiro. I think you needed someone to remind you that you’re not dead yet.”

You don’t have an answer. You just lie there while your eyes are glued to her; continue to taste her in your mouth.

She stands. And like a magic trick she produces a business card from somewhere and sets it on the nightstand.

“There’s a shower through here. Hot water. Good pressure. Help yourself. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

“Tsuki…”

“You’ll see me again.” She pauses at the door. That almost-smile playing on her lips. “The people who did this to you, Akihiro. They’re sleeping comfortably tonight. Doesn’t that bother you? Fight.”

Then she’s gone.

✦⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

You stand in the shower for what feels like eternity. You let the water flow. The shower water is scalding, but you stay under it anyway. It reddens your skin. You let it sear away whatever the hell just happened. Because the moment you took her hand, you knew you were cooked.

You came here to feel nothing. She’d said that like she knew. Like she’d seen right through you from the moment she appeared.

She’s right.

You’d wanted oblivion. Bourbon and bad decisions and the emptiness that comes from surrendering control. Instead, she’d given you something worse: she’d made you feel. She made you reach for desire, and frustration, and something raw, and desperate that you’d been burying since Tanaka-san wouldn’t meet your eyes.

She’d forced you open, looked at what was inside, and walked away.

Your body still aches; arousal denied, muscles tensed for a release that never came. You can still taste her. That salty-sweet musk you’d swallowed like a man dying of thirst. You can still feel the spectral weight of her on your face, her thighs nestled against your cheeks.

You wrap your hand around yourself. The water beats down on your back. You stroke once, twice…

And stop.

It feels wrong, unfinished business that shouldn’t be finished alone. She’d denied you for a reason. You don’t understand the reason yet, but completing the act yourself feels like cheating. Like letting her down.

What the fuck is wrong with you?!

You turn off the water. Wrap a towel around your waist. Walk back into the room that still smells faintly of her. Wine and a looming presence of something darker.

The people who did this to you. They’re sleeping comfortably tonight.

The business card is still on the nightstand. Just a phone number. No name.

You pick it up. Turn it over. Nothing on the back.

Your phone is still off; you could turn it on. Finally face the music: all the unread messages, the missed calls, the reality waiting to tear you apart.

Instead, you lie down on the bed that still holds the ghost of her body. Close your eyes. Try to remember the exact taste of her lips. Replay all the stored images in your head.

You don’t sleep. But when the sun finally rises, pale and gray through the windows, you’re still thinking about her question.

Doesn’t that bother you?

Yes.

It fucking does.

✦⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

Three days later

There’s a networking event at a hotel downtown. It’s a different hotel but the same species of desperation. Fifty people in business casual, circulating with drinks and business cards, pretending they’re not all acutely aware of who’s up and who’s down.

You’re down, you’re obviously at the gutter, and everyone by now knows it.

You can see it in how conversations pause when you approach, the slight stiffening of shoulders, the bright smiles that don’t reach anyone’s eyes. People you’ve known for years. All of them have discovered fascinating things to look at on the opposite side of the room.

Plague carrier. That’s what you are now. They brought back social distancing and you are patient zero.

Three days since Tsuki left you aching in that room. Three days of phone calls that go to voicemail, emails that don’t get responses, and the slow realization that your network; twelve years of carefully cultivated ‘relationships’, has been quarantined along with your career.

You’re on your second club soda. Trying to stay sharp, proving something to yourself. 

Then she appears.

She doesn’t approach. She just shows up, like she stepped out of the gap between one second and the next. One second the space beside you is empty. The next, she’s there.

“You look better than last time,” she says.

She looks different. Hair down loose curls. Off-shoulder black gown. She looks like she belongs, which means she definitely does not.

“How did you know I’d be here?”

“Mmhm. Lucky guess.” She plucks a canapé from a passing tray, looks at it, sets it back. “You’ve been busy. I saw you talking to that woman in white. And that startup founder, the one who still thinks ‘runway’ is something you build at an airport and ‘profit’ is a myth investors tell children at bedtime.”

You didn’t see her watching. You’re sure of that. You were scanning the room the whole time.

“Are you following me?”

“I’m helping you, Akihiro.” She nods toward a cluster of suits near the bar. “Blue tie. Kwon, Minjun. South Korean conglomerate money. He needs someone to handle a family restructuring, discreetly. The big firms won’t touch it. Lots of excuses: too complex and too messy and too many secrets.”

“And you know this how?”

“I’m Tsuki~ Also, people love talking and I am good at listening. People with a lot of secrets tend to be more chatty.” She’s already moving. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

The conversation with Kwon takes around fifteen minutes. She does most of the work; positioning you as exactly what he needs, someone outside the system, someone who understands discretion. By the end, he’s asking for your card and suggesting lunch next week.

When you turn to thank her, she’s gone. You look for her.

You find her in a service corridor off the main hall. She’s leaning against a wall, arms crossed, watching you approach like she knew exactly how long it would take.

“He’s very much interested in you,” she says. “You’ll have the account by Friday.”

“You set that up. The whole thing.”

“I initiated the conversation. You performed, and you performed extremely well.” She tilts her head. “You’re welcome.”

“Why do you do these things for me? What do you want from me?”

“Right now? She glances down the corridor: not a single soul, empty, no cameras in sight. She bites her lower lip. “I want your mouth.”

“That’s a lot to ask for just an introduction.”

“Is it?” She steps closer. “Fifteen minutes with the Kwon Minjun. A man who doesn’t take meetings with anyone below C-suite. I got you that with a smile and my pretty face.” Her fingers find your tie, straightens it. “My price seems pretty…reasonable.”

“And if I want to negotiate?”

“You’re not in the position to negotiate, Aki-kun. I have the upperhand here.” She says it like she’s explaining basic arithmetics. “You need clients and I just handed you one. The question isn’t whether you’ll pay. It’s whether you’ll do it well enough that I keep helping you.”

“And if I do it well?”

“Then maybe I’ll tell you something more about myself.” Her almost-smile. “After.”

“Before.”

“After, Akihiro-kun. Or never.”

You consider the corridor. The networking event you’re supposed to be attending. Her eyes that just lures you in the abyss of bad decisions.

While she watches you decide, she slowly lifts her arm; points toward the floor between her heels.

“On your knees, Akihiro-kun.” Her smile sharpens. “Let’s see how thorough you can be.”

The tile is cold and dirty and hard. You don’t care. She's gathering the tulle in one fist and hiking the gown up slowly, watching your face, enjoying the way your eyes track every inch of exposed thigh.

“You’ve been thinking about this,” she says. “How I taste. These past three days, lying in your bed, remembering how wet I was on your tongue.”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear. Black lace, barely there. She slides them down her thighs, steps out of them, tucks them into your jacket pocket. “Something to remember me by.”

Tulle bunched at her hips. She's bare underneath. Pink and glistening and close enough that you can smell her arousal. Your mouth waters.

“Look at you,” she murmurs. “So eager. So thirsty.” She traces a finger along your jaw. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to taste you.”

“Be more specific. Let it all out Aki-kun.”

“I want to lick your pussy until you cum on my face.”

The words come out before your brain can veto them. God, what’s wrong with you?!

Tsuki shivers just slightly. A crack in that perfect composure she’s trying so hard to maintain.

Okay. Dirty talk does work. Good to know.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You lean in. Press your eager lips to her inner thigh. She inhales sharply.

“Tease,” she breathes.

“I learned from the best.”

You take your time. Kissing up one thigh, then the other. Letting your breath ghost over where she wants you, never quite touching. She makes a frustrated sound, and her fingers find your hair.

“Akihiro…”

“You made me wait three days.” You’re so close now. You can see how wet she is, pink, glistening, slick and swollen, practically dripping. “You can wait three minutes.”

“I don’t…” She gasps as your tongue finally touches her. Just once. A slow, flat stroke from her entrance to her clit. “Fuck.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t like waiting.”

“You do now.”

You lick her again: Slower. Savoring. She tastes just like you remembered. Her hips buck toward your mouth, but you pull back enough to deny her the pressure she wants.

“You’re getting brave,” she manages.

“I’m getting even.”

You seal your lips around her clit and suck. She cries out. Loud. Extremely loud for a service corridor. It echoes over the length of it. Then her hand slaps over her mouth.

“Quiet,” you murmur against her. “Someone might hear.”

“You bastard.”

You slide two fingers inside her. She’s soaked, clenching around you immediately, her whole body jerking at the intrusion.

“God, you’re so wet.” You curl your fingers, searching. “You’ve been thinking about this too. Haven’t you?”

She doesn’t answer. Her thighs are shaking.

“Haven’t you?”

“Yes.” It comes out broken. “Yes, I-there, right there, don’t stop-”

You don’t stop. You finger fuck her and lick her clit in tight circles, the same rhythm, relentless. She’s grinding against your face now, chasing it, all the composure slowly but surely crumbling.

“You’re going to cum,” you tell her. “Right here in this hallway. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could see you like this. Gown around your hips, fucking yourself on my tongue.”

“Akihiro…”

“Now. Cum for me.”

She breaks.

Her whole body seizes, cunt clamping down on your fingers, thighs squeezing your head, the sound she makes is muffled by her hand but you can still hear it; raw, desperate, nothing like the controlled woman who manifested into that bar four days ago.

You work her through it. Slower now, gentler, drawing out every aftershock. She shudders repeatedly and you don’t pull away until she pushes at your shoulders.

“Enough.” She’s panting. Flushed. Her legs are visibly unsteady. “Enough.”

You sit back on your heels. Wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Your fingers are still drenched with her.

“Was that thorough enough?” you ask.

She stares at you. For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything. Just breathes. Then that smile returns, slower this time.

“You’re learning.”

She pushes off the wall. Smooths the gown back into place. Her legs are still trembling slightly, and the knowledge that you did that, that you made her shake, sends a hot pulse of satisfaction through you.

You’re achingly hard. She can see the visual outline of you straining against your slacks.

“What about…”

“No.” She’s composing herself. Running her fingers through her hair. “Not yet.”

“Tsuki.”

“You made me cum.” She steps closer. Looks down at the bulge in your pants. Presses her palm against it, just once, firm and fleeting. You make a strangled sound. “That’s more than most people get. Be grateful.”

“I want—”

“I know what you want.” She leans in. Her lips brush your ear. “You want to bend me over and fuck me until I scream. You want to fill me up and watch it drip out of me. You want to make me as desperate as you’ve been for the past four days.”

“Yes.”

“Mhmm.” She pulls back. Straightens your jacket. Her underwear is still in your pocket, damp against your chest. “Not yet.”

“When?”

“When I decide.” That smile again; dangerous and promising. “Now go back to the party. Smile at Kwon. Think about how good I tasted while you shake hands and make small talk.”

She’s walking away before you can respond.

You stand. Adjust your jacket. Fix yourself until you’re presentable before walking back to the party. Take a couple of seconds to breathe.

Her underwear is still in your pocket. You should do something about that. Put it somewhere. Throw it away. Anything other than keeping it like some kind of pervert trophy.

You don’t do anything about it, just transfer it inside the pocket lining of your jacket.

You enter the venue. Kwon catches your eye across the room. Raises his glass. You nod back and approach him.

Your phone buzzes.

Hinode-san. I’ve reached out a couple of times now. I understand you’ve signed an NDA. I’m not asking about Ishikawa this time. I’m inquiring about something else. Call when you’re ready.

You stare at the message. Something else. You don’t know what that means. The journalist’s byline was on the Polaris coverage last year (she totally fucked them up). The Bloomberg interview with the Blockberry whistleblower. Her pieces have a way of turning into criminal indictments.

You don’t answer.

Your phone buzzes again. Different number. Unknown with a weird handle.

般若: The Kwon family charity gala is Saturday. The daughter manages their venture fund. She’ll be looking for someone like you.

般若: Wear your navy suit. It fits you better than that gloomy excuse you have on.

You look around the room. She’s nowhere. Another buzz.

般若: You looked like you’re starting to believe in yourself

般若: I like that.

般若: Sleep well tonight, Akihiro-kun. You’ll need the energy.

You stare at the screen. The navy suit. She’s never seen your closet. She’s never been to your apartment.

You should be frightened. You should be calling the police, or a psychiatrist, or anyone who can explain how a woman you met a few days ago knows what suits you own.

Instead, you’re thinking about the sound she made when she came. The way her control cracked. The three seconds where she was just a woman shaking against your mouth.

You place your phone in your pocket.

You don’t sleep well that night. But when you close your eyes, you’re not thinking about the Kwon family, or your ruined career.

You’re thinking about her. You think about what she said.

The people who did this to you. They’re comfortable. Fight.

✦⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

And it's flawless, because she makes it flawless - which is the true cruelty of it.

You reply: for the record, I poison the food, trace amounts, bioaccumulative. you'll go quietly in your sleep the week before you become partner, and i'll be left to grieve into your half of a security deposit

we are never seeing that deposit again because you put your fist through the drywall demonstrating a rear naked choke

You said you felt unsafe walking to the subway

I feel unsafe walking to the kitchen, thank you very much. She turns a page she was reading - now drink your spit.

Gladly

You'd had this apartment since you were both broke - instant-noodle broke, splitting one metrocard broke, the sort of broke that's almost fun in the rearview because you survived it by the skin of your teeth.

Now she bills more in an hour than the rent. You do something with capital you've stopped trying to explain at parties - rather, take a middle distance, talk about all the publishing companies you've sponsored. exclaim books aren't dead after all! [1]

[1] of course, the irony of it is that they are, kind of dead

The radiator finds a new place to leak everyday, the second bathroom is a closet on account of all the pipe failures - and you have to pass by her bedroom to go to the bathroom. You'll take your grim - as she says - 4-in-1 facial cleanser, moisturizer, toner, window cleaner beside her 70 products to - as she says, to look like a porcelain cup. Either of you could leave tomorrow. But you don't.

I'm making you a tinder profile you say, taking her phone off the counter, sliding in the code to her phone.

I don't need a profile

You need a life. Or, at minimum, an orgasm that isn't self-induced.

She scoffs at the answer, still focused on the book -

You read aloud what you type in: emotionally available between the hours of never and also never.

Keep going. I'm aroused.

Lawyer, with three working holes

She sets the book down - this is how you know you've drawn blood - give me the phone

Make me

You had reserved a restaurant for the two of you, this new restaurant that was supposed to be great according to 15 google reviews who probably were the owner's extended family - doing their due diligence to make sure that this specific child doesn't become the family disappointment.

As always, the food comes out less than satisfactory; all the dishes are doused in butter; and the salad section was the most calorically dense section of the menu. You whisper about how much better you can make each of these dishes back home - and she'll agree, for once:

You ruined restaurants for me. I used to enjoy being disappointed by the $20 millennial man-bun burger. Now there's a douchebag at home who makes a great burger.

my pleasure with a smile.

She's scrolling tinder, still scrolling ever since the morning. Look at this, look at what's available to me. This one opened with the word 'yes'.

Atleast he's confident about it.

Oh please... she sighs, and this one wanted to know - whether i would rather have one thumb for a tongue or a tongue on every finger.

What did you land on. I think the tongue on every finger -

Nothing! It's so impractical, i'd rather think about - i don't know, vigorously masturbating.

You choke on some food you were actively chewing on, and she giggles - of course she does - and this one spelled 'pussy' wrong, this one wrote 'wyd 2nite' and I just have to scoff - how lazy do you have to be. It is ONE keystroke. T-O.

She drops the phone facedown, Who raised these men. Who looked at a child and thought: i will release this, unfinished, into the apps.

You'd know more about raising them, if you'd dated more than one person since the Pleistocene.

Atleast I committed, you - you just find anybody to fuck around with. She points at you, still chewing the complimentary bread - there was that one with the lululemon workout gear, said that's her sexpertise - she mimics a gag - then the DJ. The other DJ. Then I think there was another fucking DJ. I just genuinely -

Respect the hustle, Sohyun.

Respect the hustle? Your dick has commitment issues.

You laugh, and she's laughing too, the helpless one she hates, hand over her mouth, a soft cackle, perfect, uneven teeth showing - and you pay before she can fight you about it.

There's a dress shop two blocks down, on the way back to your apartment - and there's a green dress of something very expensive, to which she slows just a tad for -

You: Try it.

No thanks. It's ten thousand dollars with a tag.

So is everything you own. And then, you can't help it, it's right there - you lower your voice into something oily, shriveled, all menace, Let your uncle get it for you.

Absolutely not, strike it from the record

Uncle's had a very good quarter sweetheart. You pat a pocket. Uncle wants to see you in the green one.

I will call the actual police, I will have you locked up in maximum security - but, that laugh, she can't help herself, laughing into her hand - ...does uncle want to come in - watch me try it?

And for once, neither of you has the line to pull back.

...That got away from us, you manage, like something's lodged in your throat

That got away from you. She says. Buy me the dress, uncle. I've earned it.

Of course. You buy it.

The weekend arrives with the both of you brushing in the same bathroom, the only usable bathroom. She gargles, lets the foam clear away before slotting a length of floss between her teeth - By the way, I've a date today

With a... functioning human being?

His name is Mark. He used a semicolon correctly, nearly proposed on the spot.

So he's unemployed

He's a structural engineer, building the finest bridges.

Man who builds bridges and stays punctual - sounds like you matched with linkedin premium.

He's nice. Two long relationships, both ending kindly. Tips like he's apologizing for capitalism.

...So a serial killer?

He's just nice, man. She moves to throw the length of loss away.

Nobody's just nice. 4 months later the neighbors will find the crawlspace. You amble a comb through your hair. and then, I'll say I told you so.

She presses an index finger into your gut and you reflexively jolt - save this barking for later, uncle.

You move into the living room, waiting for Sohyun to get ready. You didn't get to see her in a green dress yet -

Uncle, I'm ready. She says, behind the door.

This uncle bit is getting old, Sohy - She comes out, the green dress skims her curves, the v-neck that presses her cleavage together, gleaming hair, glowing skin, plump lips -

Eyes up here mister.

Right. Get a hold of yourself - yeah, it looks great. Like, I don't know, it's like an accidentally sexy librarian.

Your eyes are fixed to my cleavage, I'm not even sure if you got the full view.

You did, you definitely did. This is, without a doubt, the hottest woman you've ever seen.

Now, help me zip up this thing.

There's the long bare reach of her back, you drag it up slowly, the zipper is small and your hands are big and you don't want to waste a moment of counting all the moles on her back.

I'm sorry but there won't be a person left in this city who hasn't looked down the front of that dress you say, pulling the zipper by parts.

Here I was, hoping the one exception was you.

Afraid not. You move some hairs away from her nape to get the zipper fully closed.

And she turns again, the dress comes out even more pressed to her curves, and that v-neck, god almighty. She steps into the heels -

I'm picturing it, you - a human - and this... linkedin premium.

God please no

I'm picturing it - two barbie dolls in the dark, knocking smooth plastic parts together. You say, vulgarity be damned.

Please stop talking - a familiar twitch to her mouth, god what you would do to continue living with her.

He won't get anywhere regardless, you add, holding out her coat unasked. Ten years with one man, a year of nothing since: there are cobwebs in there.

You know what's charming about the women you date? she says, taking the coat. How they all vanish after exactly one dinner. Like you're running a very tidy little murder operation

You know what's charming about the men you date? They don't exist. Mark is the first confirmed sighting. That's a million dollar sighting. Rarer than bigfoot.

Mark exists.

We'll see if he survives contact. Go easy on him, castrator

Don't need to go easy, dahmer. He's structurally sound. She slings a bag over her shoulder. Dont wait up.

You wait up, badly: lights off, a finance newsletter open on your phone that you're not reading, slouching on the couch like a man who is definitely not watching the door, ambling away the scalding minutes.

The lock turns at around eight PM. She comes in on the green dress and a drunk smile -

So, you say

So. She drops her shoes

How was Marco

Mark - she says, with emphasis - was wonderful.

And something about it feels wrong. Like swallowing something that's whole, cratering its path through your esophagus. Wonderful how, be specific, treat it as a deposition.

He's funny, actually funny, she pads into the kitchen, where you've already moved, filling two glasses of wine - we didn't stop talking. Three whole hours of talking, they flipped the chairs onto the tables around us.

Insufferable

There's a second date, a sip from the wine, a gentle smile on her. You wouldn't know the feeling.

Conversation's never been my deliverable.

No. I've seen your deliverable. It leaves before the coffee and changes its phone number

It leaves satisfied, you gesture, A courtesy Mark may never trouble you with

She hops up onto the counter, legs swinging in a gentle rhythm. And that dress - your dress, your genuinely terrible idea - pressed high to her thigh, all pretense of hem gone, riding clean all the way to the upper -

You'd buy it anyway. You'd buy it on leverage you don't have -

Oh please, monk of the orgasm temple. She scoffs. "Satisfied." Then tips her head, lowers the lashes, entering this little play that she imagines your women sing: I see you across the bar and - gosh (this emphasis on the trashiest possible gosh) - you really want me to put my tongue there!? I've never done that before. Sweet as a song. Does that play? On the book-illiterate?

Devastatingly so, you say. You should audition to be one of these... book-illiterates. I'm always casting.

No thanks. I've got a second date to look forward to.

Do you even get to the regular stuff, you ask, or do you have to bury the body first?

Now - she aims the empty glass at your sternum - you're trying to get me worked up.

You retrieve the glass, but up close she's all wine-warmth, hot perfume, the gentle trace of another man's cologne, and your body, traitorous as it is, gets worked up.

Oh my god. she says, looking down, radiant, with a ticking-time-bomb of a laugh - is that what I think it is?

Quickly, try to play it off - Don't flatter yourself, I was outside for a while and walked past alot of women - and she catches the lie like it's nothing, scoffing: You walked past, maybe, a leaking radiator.

The radiator's been forward lately. I haven't wanted to make it weird.

Should've seen it sooner, looks like we're arranging the date soon for the radiator fucker, she rules.

Oh, but I'm shy - an awful pitch to your voice.

And there's this soft silence, like nothing's wrong in the world - and Sohyun's grinning at you, wine marking her lips a tad darker, like you could just -

She tilts her head, openly appraising - I've always had a soft spot, she murmurs, for the small and the weak.

There's nothing small about me

You bring your dick up an awful lot. She slides off the counter and lands close. I wonder what that means.

It means you keep looking. I knew you would.

I wanted a visual, she says, It'll be giving me nightmares for weeks, thank you very much.

And then nothing's said. Kitchen too small, this green dress too close, the fact that you've got a hard-on to her and she... Fucking. Knows.

Goodnight, Dahmer she brushes past - because she has never once let you have the last move - and goes down the hall to her bedroom

And you're fine.

Completely fucking fine.

A month passes, Mark, the angel Sohyun's in love with has her busy on the weekends, letting her experience the city for what it's worth, letting her live a life she's missed out on for years.

He texts you on a Tuesday. Apparently I've been dating your roommate a month and never once bought her roommate a drink. Let me fix that - Friday? Sohyun's in, obviously.

You go to hate him - an agenda that Sohyun is already aware of. They're already there in the corner booth, two of them sitting next to eachother - and Mark rises to shake your hand. Tall and good-looking, how cliche - like he's never been escorted out of a holiday party by the shoulders.

You came. Mark says. Sohyun bet me twenty you'd bail.

I should have. I had a flawless evening of resenting you from across the city already booked. You slide in across from them.

So, you say. Bridges, tell me about the one that collapsed. The bodies, all the bodies.

None of mine have collapsed

That you know of.

He won an award, Sohyun interjected.

An award for a bridge that hasnt failed yet - committee's bold then. Waitress brings a beer, foam leaking at the top, and you take a sip - Personally, cantilevers - I say as a layman - overrated.

Overrated how. He gives a pleasant smile

The general load -

You don't know what a cantilever is.

I know it's a kind of bridge

It's mostly a kind of shelf. And he's kind about it, which is just unsufferable. You just came to find something wrong with me.

A felony. An ugly walk. An ugly way of chewing. Maybe you cheer for Arsenal. You reply, suavely.

Sorry to disappoint.

It's enraging. I keep waiting for you to mention the women in the well.

No well, he mock-sighs. HOA's strict.

It's the moment you tip - Has she told you what she actually does? She castrates men for a living. It's all framed back home.

And Sohyun - careful all night, porcelain-beautiful, hair curled to perfection - It's family law, castration for itemization. There's a huge difference.

Then she adds: Don't let him do the wounded act by the way. He's a "venture capitalist" and calls it a vocation.

I also keep a few dying publishers as pets, you tell Mark.

Sohyun, not missing a beat, There's a working theory. I won't bore you with the evidence but it has to do with organs.

There's no evidence. You point at her, then finally finishing the rest of the beer. It's all gone, mysteriously.

Mark interjects: They're not dying, though, the publishers. A little lost.

Oh, they're dying, you and Sohyun say, at the same time, in almost the same key - the both of you laugh.

That's the first time you feel him fall behind. He laughs too - but it's lagged, late.

You always look like you're one step off a knife fight, she tells you.

I'm delighted to be here, actually. Means I'm not off evicting some single mother from a shelter.

That was an accident.

Hmm.

There was a - Mark starts. - a shelter?

Long story, you and she say, in unison, and don't tell it.

He sits back a little.

You mention you came straight up from the office and she says she didn't realize they let people jaunt back and forth over the River Styx[2] like that, and you say there's a small toll, it's all very very very civilized, and Mark says the cross-town traffic this time of night is honestly murder -

[2] Sohyun's foul mouth comes up with a brilliant joke: that you are dead, but you still walk back and forth over the River Styx, which is the boundary from the living world and the underworld in greek mythology. Curse her!

and hears himself, and stops. Lays an arm along the booth behind her, losing the ability to time himself, and just watches. Like this girl was nothing like what he was looking at, something nearer to wonder, a man at the aquarium glass.

She laughs, turning mid-laugh to bring him in, asking isn't this funny, and finds him already looking at her, gone soft and far off, and the laugh snags in her throat.

Mark calls for the check - On me. Least I can do. For the floor show.

Laying - drunk off my tits the wine we spilt painting the ground there's a barrier that jives around his warm face And I notice then, you could ruin my life

Chapter 2:

A day later,

You get home, you spot a bottle of something brown open, shining on the island. You're good at connecting dots. There were peonies scattered on the floor (Mark is the one to end things with flowers, pleasant as always).

And she's drunk enough to reach for the old shtick. So. Who's the lucky sixty-nine-year-old you've been ruining lately?

My aunt.

Your aunt's dead.

Which would explain why she's been so pleasantly quiet in bed.

She laughs, then she stares at the open window, ruminating:

I had someone. He left his contacts wilted on the bathroom counter, fossilized into half-globes. I'd come home and want to hear about his day - I mean I really wanted to, almost fetishistic, kiss what was left of the razor burn on his neck. He made the worst scrambled eggs. Rubbery, every morning, and I ate them every time. She turns around: ten years of rubber eggs.

What about you, she asks.

I had a woman. You take a sip of the brown she was drinking. She used to argue about the doneness of pancakes and then put her hands up my shirt and call the whole morning menial, and I'd ask: what purpose do we serve. The answer was always: I'm fine right here.

She sits, lets her head rest back against the cushion. Everyone wants somebody to understand their personality and their childhood and what each of those things has done to the other one. That's the scam of it. You show your pale underbelly, turn your ribs inside out, fashion your whole interiority for them and beg them closer, closer than that, even closer - and they get close enough, and then it's - they're already on the other side, and everything's over.

She picks up the bottle and sips. I feel like an alarm. Wailing. That's the humiliation of wanting. Capitalists fooled us into thinking wanting is shameless. Love takes you to shame two times over. 10 years. A scoff at the number.

You're not an alarm.

That's very funny. She stares past you, calculating the whole of you. A lawyer and a venture capitalist with Beckett on the shelf. He'd write us as two people in bins.

I once saw a pigeon on its back, she says. Alive but dying. It blinked at me, tire-smirched, blood-grizzled. I didn't do anything. I should've stepped on its brain. You know why that's sad? Pigeons know how to hurt but don't know how to sin. She drinks. I'm not sad about me. I get exactly what I deserve.

What do you deserve. You ask.

I don't know. Everything terrible. A man who makes bad eggs.

She's close enough now that you get the liquor and under it the her of her, the scalp, the skin, and you think of the skyscraper poem your ex wrote: how we overextend our necks staring at something enormous, like those mornings when someone's still asleep and their face is so calm and wantless and they're not even being a person yet and they're so perfect you want you want you want.

Do we ask the earth for permission? she says. Do we? There are little arachnids living on our eyelashes right now, clearing our pores and mating under the full moon, and their whole lives depend on us, and they never asked and we never asked - do, we, as arachnids, need permission from our earth?

No.

You press a hot hand to her stocking-clad thigh. She presses a flat hand to your chest, slips a whole hand in between the buttons of your shirt, spreads her fingers over the heartbeat.

Do you feel that, you say. Do you feel what you're doing to me.

You hold her hand there until the urge to kiss the fingertips wins - pen-worn hand, redness at the tips from gripping the legal pad all day, nails short and practical. You lift it, kiss one fingertip, and she makes a sound, this small mewl, and leans forward, mouth to your chest through the shirt, your neck, your jaw. You hold still. If you move you'll move wrong. You'll break whatever calculus she's built in her head to let this happen.

How am I supposed to not want you, you say.

What's the difference between you and other men. They're all horrible.

I'm horrible. But I'm here.

Don't be full of yourself. She pulls you in by the tie. You're preposterous

Her fingertips find a piece of twine protruding from a button and incise it. Your mouth on her shoulder. Her spine under your palm. The heft of her hair hooked left, more kisses, the tendon on her neck, the jaw, her mouth again, and she pulled you by the the tie, left and right, kissing whatever remained unkissed - a gesture so old, as old as the grandmother who named an ocean on her grandfather's wrist, who kissed each knuckle, who drew an island into his palm and told him which parts they would share and which they would leave alone - the open brown, the Francis Bacon print on the wall, and to think of her holding you down tugged up the wire of every species on this earth, not the electric inventions, something bigger, a fevered movement across the world, all the trees at once turning dewy -

nothing else matters at all.

stomach-churning pulses grinding through your intestines - and she's between your legs, pressing your legs apart, pulls off her dress shirt, her skirt, all that's remaining: nude bra and panties.

There's a soft unsteadiness in her, the alcohol, the need, the want all combining into this weak-knee'd unsteadiness - you hold her smallest fingers, steady her.

Did you jerk off thinking about me? she asks.

All the fucking time.

She smirks, sinking to her knees, hands bracketing the heat of your thighs. Her hands twist into your trousers.

I want to taste you, the weight of you on my tongue, the stretch. The heat of your cock.

She gently pulls down your trousers all the way, hands tracing the heat of your thighs - ignoring the obvious, the trapped heat.

She reaches up, still kneeling, finds the first button of your shirt, let's a hand go under to feel your warm abs as she unbuttons with one.

Did you do this with Mark, you say.

A smile on her - No, no I didn't. Are you glad?

You sigh with relief -

She grins, splays a hand on your chest, all the buttons off, the heartbeats -

do you feel it Sohyun - do you fucking feel it - you're driving me insane.

She takes a deep breath, breathing you in, the cologne melting off with your sweat, and you dot kisses on her scalp - that flowery shampoo, that smell that's hers, distinctively.

She's easing the lid open on you, finding the kinks in the armor. dotting kisses on your pecs, sitting up, still on her knees, pressing her fingers into soft spots and hard spots alike. She runs her palms down your thighs, closer to your cock, back up again.

You pull her hand into you, hand on her cheek, tilting her head up and pressing your lips onto hers, tonguing at her. Retaliation beckons: she palms your cock, rubs her palm over the heat, working the thin fabric for all it's worth.

She leans forward as she curls fingers over the band of your boxers, kissing the V of your waist, and she trails lower, closer to the heat. And you're pulsing, barely keeping it together and she lets your cock rest next to her neck -

it's so fucking hot

I know, please. you barely let out

please what?

stop fighting me, you're torturing me.

She presses a kiss on the first thick inch she sees:

You're granting me all this control - second inch, fingers curling on the base of your cock. kissing the inches, all the way - and the fingers - wrapped all the way around the thick of it.

it's hard to even close around it. And she's almost relieved.

It's hard to breathe, do you tell her that? Do you tell her that she's ruining you with just her hand staying static around your cock? That her little kisses are already taking you to that extreme?

You're twitching. A venom to her voice.

What do you want? your hands turning white gripping the couch.

I want you to fuck me. fuck my throat, turn me into a whore. I've all this control and it disgusts me.

But before you could process any of it, the sickening thrill of it: she grips harder, lets you throb in her hand, the burn of your cock; and leans forward, dragging her tongue flatly from base to tip in a wet line.

Your thighs tick forward.

And she mewls: I want more of that

She shifts higher, brings her mouth to the head of your cock and lets saliva drip along her tongue.

Pushing, letting it glance unevenly over the head - she flattens her tongue again, drags it over your cock, drags her fingers oh so soft. All this slick, the twist of her wrist, the second hand now closing in around the head of your cock, fist curving tighter over the sensitivity as it slips through all her spit.

And you're losing it: she's turning her wrist near the top, letting it meld into her soft tongue, letting your thick cock hit her tongue once or twice then not again and you can't fucking take it:

please

what?

please - what more can you say? She's trying to end you and it's all self-fulfilling.

you dig your palms into your eyes trying to process, you're already on the edge, twitching, weeping pre-cum onto her tongue and she's taking it all like it's everything to her. like the tears of weeping angels.

Another hip twitch -

this salty-sweet tang of your precum, you're so adorable. And she drags both fists up, spreading the remaining precum all over your cock -

Her mouth connects, sucking hard at the head, gripping tigher with her hands, lips stretched, mouth wide, as she sucks and tries to swallow more of you.

She pops off gently, getting breaths in, letting your weeping corded cock rest on her red-hot lips, before swallowing you back down, all the way until the head of yours bumps the back of her throat.

Relaxes - enough to breathe just a little, your cock still taking space in her throat - pulls your hand all the way to her hair, letting it entangle.

Sohyun's spit-slick, hand lands on top of your hand. And she presses down, like demonstration -

but you yank back, and a girlish yelp leaves her -

You finally coil enough power to get a turn. You pull her up by her armpits - and how light she is, like a fucking doll - you rip the stockings underneath her skirt, let two thick veiny fingers enter her sopping wet pussy.

clit rolling against your rough palm, the wet satin of her panties barely there.

And you scrape your teeth over her neck, sucking a mark onto her, as she bounces desperately over your fingers.

such a little thing, locking her waist into you as you push your fingers even deeper. two fingers trying to tear off her bra. two breasts pressed to your face, a nipple in your mouth.

made to fit me.

Cunt squelching on your palm, head dropping back. And you're sick with it, pulling her underwear to the side to watch her cunt weeping on your fingers.

Kissing all over chest, marking her up with your mouth.

On the bed, you think, sink inside her -

but you grab your cock anyway, dragging your head along the slippery pink of her pussy, and Sohyun moans - all sorts of needy that makes your cock throb, weep outside her.

sink on me, princess.

She sinks, forehead pressed to yours, and she's trying -

Feeling her, the wet and slick and tight - the spasm of her cunt, the clench, the leak of her arousal down your veiny cock.

You're fucking her raw, without a condom, rutting up into her, again and again, and she pushes back gently, trying to find a pace that doesn't utterly ruin her and you're chasing her, fucking her deeper, ruining her little pussy.

Until she presses a soft hand to your shoulder, leaning back, face flushed, nipples pink and hard, stomach tensed.

Stare at her - how fucking ruined she is: swollen lips from sucking your cock like it was made for her, sweat beading down her forehead - god is the sweat running down her face. You kiss the salt-worked forehead - a moment of softness.

Then she rolls gently, slipping a hand between her legs, past your thumb resting on her clit, onto the soaking mess of her, that hot pink mess that she's responsible for -

let me hear you, you growl, to her collar, kissing the blooming hickeys you left earlier.

grab at her hips, sit straighter, pull her into your body, let her wrap her hands around your shoulder - grasp at levity as this goddess is cock-drunk off you, still rolling, offering her clit to your thumb.

And she pants.

Clinging onto you.

letting her sopping cunt cling onto you like this was fucking prophecy - it's hot - sweat beading along your back, between your bodies, sticky - the wet noise of her cunt being excavated by a cock a smidge too large.

You're both close, these petty uncoordinated movements making the orgasm closer - sensitivities reaching an opus - only these little shifts of her hips - the urge to stretch this moment for as long as possible

And only then: the quietest orgasm, stuck to the top of her breasts, barely hanging in there, her waist locked between your thick forearms, cum spreading, filling in whatever was left between you.

poems for fucking:

romantic walks up your arm with my lips dinner on your collarbones, a bottle of wine paper bagged somewhere on your ribs I want to see your city, and by don't take me home just yet I really mean: Let's share a whiskey, take the train over your city, spot the pennies lodged between the pavement - let's make sure every part of your skin's been kiss-bitten and that'll take us a while and if it means anything at all, putting a stamp upside-down means I love you and I would turn over every post office in the world just to show you how much I care.

You wake to the cold half of the bed, and the rest of it makes a grim kind of sense: she's gone. Most of her stuff is still here, her shoes, but her daily shoes - gone.

You call, and it rings and rings until the call cancels - you text and the delivered stays there.

It's a Saturday. There's nowhere a person needs to be on a Saturday - but she's a workaholic - and the dots connect: you drive to her firm.

The weekend guard waves you up on account of being acquainted with Sohyun. And you get to the floor where she's usually working, and there she was, through the glass - neat-clothed, glasses on her, working hard on a case you'd never understand.

She looks up and clocks you, immediately bolting to the men's restroom - not toward the elevators or the stairs. And you go in after her -

Sohyun. I just want to talk

God, listen to you. "I just want to talk" Do you have any idea how many women have said that to your back while you looked for your shoes?

Yes. I'm aware of the irony, it's why I'm standing inside your firm at eight a.m instead of pretending you don't exist.

There's nothing to talk about. We were drunk, it was -

There was a shuffle outside the door - an employee? - but before you could look back, she pulled you by your tie into one of the stalls.

And you were dangerously close to her, her face, this face you've been in love with since forever. The one face that you cannot imagine living without - Listen, you try to say -

and she's off the tiles, fist in your tie, pulling you down, kissing you. Shut up.

You take her face in both hands, gently, and hold her back just far enough that the kiss can't keep doing the talking.

I'm not leaving. I'm going to be the worst thing that ever happened to your avoidance. Kiss me to keep me quiet all you like. I'll enjoy it, I'll still be here when you open your eyes.

Her hands press against your shirt, head pressed to your sternum. She stays there for a moment.

Starts kneeling -

Sohyun. You catch her hands. You dont have to -

I know. She looks up, Let me.

The Castrator, who has never once knelt to a man in her life, lowering herself to the tile of the worst room in the building.

You put a hand in her hair, to hold. The dots connect.

Daddy, she mewls.

Hands in your lap.

There's no sympathy for her. You're in this cramped bathroom with her, your groin pushed up to her face, and all she can say is: Daddy.

Open your mouth

Through the small opening in her mouth, you slot in a finger, trace the lower lip and upper lip - gather spit from the tip of her tongue to glaze her lips.

Wider. You say.

She's just sitting there, rubbing her thighs together - like she isn't so fucked and slippery in her underwear that just a small touch could make her cum - that you pressing a finger into her mouth - letting her throat close around that digit - wouldn't make her burst into decibels and let the whole town know that you are fucking her dumb.

She's staring at how you unbutton your pants. Button by button, all the way until your cock's out half-mast diagonal to her face and she's fucking drooling. Slowly moving forward and you pin her head to the wall of the bathroom stall.

How do you want this dick?

Like how you fucked all those other girls.

You think I'm not enjoying every moment with you? That day, we fucked like lovers. You cup her cheeks with one hand and her glazed lips point out duck-like. I'll show you what I like.

You bundle two fingers - index and ring - down her mouth, until her throat closes and she half-gags. Eyes fill with these tears and she tries to straighten herself. Fingers still down there, and it makes it hard for her breathe but -

She's fucking climaxing, barely keeping her hands on her lap. A breathless moan escapes her and you take this opportunity to let your fingers in deeper. Her chest jerks, a tear goes down her left cheek as your knuckles bump her teeth.

Roughly: good girl.

White-knuckled against her spit-trickled dress shirt that won her millions in lawsuits. Just then, you pull your fingers out, and she finally gets to swallow down.

You should be able to price anything. Be cutthroat about it, hedge your potential losses, then hedge on top of them - that's the only way to win. You've seen people go full-in, bet their futures on a life they so desperately deserve and by the end of it, they're lost souls, begging for the past. You thought it made you the only adult in the room. Then the day after that you came inside her and everything crumpled.

Your spit-slick fingers wrapped around your cock and you fisted it gently, just inches away from her mouth. She couldn't help but move forward, but you pin her head again and she's completely mindless - obeying any mechanic of hers that'll grant her a feather of stimulus. You tap your cock against her tongue. You could see the way her lips twitched to close, but she seemed to contextualize enough to know that anything that you didn't allow would be swiftly punished. And maybe now everything was dawning on her:

That you enjoyed sex with her rather than the opposite - that it's supposed to be as intimate as the day you came inside her.

Because this? This was heady, broken, and embarrassing - and all of it was happening in her own office bathroom that she shares with subordinates. One mistake and she's kicked off the ladder. And yet:

I want all of it. I want it. I want it.

You could see how her cloudy eyes mechanized - she was about to cum again - you let your tip on her tongue and she's already around the cycle again. You press the heft of your shaft into her mouth and push in gently. Push in gently because she already came, push in gently because you want to savor - for a few moments longer - how she crumples under you.

You're gentle with it, letting her set the pace, letting her get breaths between strokes. She anchors herself, and this control you give her makes her shiver - even the way her throat clenches when she goes too fucking deep.

She pulls back to breathe, a strand of saliva still connects your tip and her lower lip. And she's staring at the corded red-tipped shaft, speechless.

Stand up

She does, her skirt crumpled just a way's up. She's expectant, wanting something. But this wasn't a day for her wants.

You grab the waistbands of her panties and nylon, pull it down midway and her pussy's just glistening - all-pink, heady, musky, almost pulsing.

Hold your skirt up

And she does, further surrendering to your hand around her throat. And everything was a bit clearer:

You began fisting your spit-slick cock again, pointed down to her panties. Another embarrassing and heady position she can't seem to get enough of: Her eyes are full of will-you's and wants that she can't act on. You press a thumb over her pulse - grunting more hunch-backed trying to not spray your cum too early - and you tighten, tighten until she grips your forearms and loses her breath for just a second - then you release. There's this rush of inhales and exhales as she catches some air and you repeat the choke - until, just until, you press harder than you've done before - her legs going loose, eyes going to back of her head - and you cum all over her panties. Cloudy liquid dotting her skirt, the floor, the nylon , the front of her pussy, and all over the panties.

Fuck.

Is all she says, can say. You pin her jaw to the side so that she can't look at you, only the door, the cruel door that may open for a coworker - and you jolt closer, scooping a bit of your cum and letting two fingers enter her just then. And she's already climaxing, screaming in her own hand.

This is what happens when I do what I want.

Your nose is buried into her exposed throat and your fingers throttling her pussy. your callused hand scraping the hood of her clit, your hooked finger rubbing that spot that makes her legs splinter half-way. You take your fingers out and mash the front of her pussy with the heel of your palm before going into her again. She's rolling with how your cum-slicked fingers penetrate her.

Her body finally gives out and that's when you hug her, your fingers still slotted into her.

In truth, I can't fuck you the way I fucked these other girls. Your fingers finally slow their rolls. I want to enjoy my time with you, not treat you like trash.

And her reply, as best as it could be presented: a wet kiss, hands wrapped around you, grasping the hair behind your head.

Her kiss fluttered gently as you finally let her have one final climax.

I love you.

"Hey, babe. Long day?" you ask softly, rising from the couch. Minjeong doesn't answer, blank eyes looking forward. She takes a while to register your presence, neck dragging to face you. "Evening," she croaks.

You pout, wanting to comfort her. "Wanna talk about it, or need distractions?"

Her eyes bounce lazily, tongue licking her dry lips. "No talk. Want quiet."

"Okay. Come here, I got you." You extend your arms, but it earns you a sharp glare. 

"Shut up."

"Sorry?"

"Shut...the fuck up. Want quiet!" she growls. You lower your arms and gulp, sweaty hands rubbing on your thighs. Walk towards her slowly, keeping your eyes on hers. Closing the distance, you gingerly wrap your arms around her; a light hug.

Several seconds pass before Minjeong sighs and rests her head on the crook of your shoulder, dropping her bag. She doesn't hug you back, doesn't have to. You keep the light embrace, listening to each other's breathing. 

Suddenly, Minjeong pulls herself free, putting an arm's length between you. Then she yanks your sweatshirt's collar, sending your lips crashing into hers. 

She isn't gentle whatsoever. Her mouth is hungry, insistent, devouring yours with burning fervor. You yelp and moan and she unlatches briefly, slapping you hard. "Shut up I said. How many times do I gotta say it?"

Oh she is stressed stressed. Work must've been a real bitch. You remember she's going through her PMS as well. This will not be easy on you, and you're equally thrilled and terrified.

Minjeong keeps your mouths locked as she pushes you towards the couch. She's groaning, whining into your lips. You, meanwhile, try your best to stay silent as she asked. Every little audible slip-up is met with a harsh slap, stinging your cheek and hardening you below at the same time.

Your legs hit the couch. Fall backwards, no attempt to get up. Just lie there while you watch Minjeong ditch her blazer and unbutton her shirt, untucking it from her pencil skirt.

"Strip. Everything." Her command is short and clear, you obey straight away. "Faster!" You make haste, abandoning any regard to pride that you foolishly kept.

The moment you're bare, Minjeong leaps onto you, straddling your hips. She bites her lip, grinding hard and slow, her heat driving you crazy even through all the fabric. 

Another moan escapes you. She's fast to discipline with a hard slap across your face, the hardest one yet. "You...are gonna give me what I want. Exactly as I tell you, or you'll get more of that. Understood? Nod."

You nod just once, feeling any extra will earn another slap. Minjeong's mouth stretches to a predatory grin, hiking up her tight pencil skirt to slide off her panties. Gosh, she is so hot.

"Open." She stuffs her white panties into your mouth. "Good boy. Don't think that means you can make sounds. Got it?" 

You nod, getting high off her musk. Minjeong lines up her wetness with your tip, then slams down. She lets out a guttural moan, fingernails digging into your shoulder. It takes all of your might to maintain silence but you manage, tearing up instead.

"Fuuck yes...needed this dick. So fucking hard..." Minjeong doesn't bounce, she rolls her hips, letting every inch of her depth feel you. The motion is equally arousing for your eyes and shaft, you bite down on her panties hard.

Your arms go to her waist by instinct, she knife hands them away. "No...touching. Did I say you can touch? Keep them where they are!" They resort to grabbing the couch instead, increasingly difficult as time passes and they get sweaty.

Some thrusts in, one in particular is too much for you, letting out a choked cry in response. Minjeong snarls and delivers a slap, her hand resting around your neck. Not choking, but enough pressure to establish herself.

"I've—had enough...of those—ahh! Assholes telling me around. Yelling and treating me like—mmhhh! Like I'm trash." She laughs, a daunting sound among the claps of skin. "So you shut up and take what you're given. I'm giving the orders here, got it?"

Your eyes struggle to stay open as you nod, tears obscuring your vision. Minjeong's hips pick up speed, her rolls becoming shallower and more intense. "Oh fuck! Ahhh!" Her first orgasm surges through her, drawing out a long, melodic moan as her body spasms.

"Ngghhh! Don't you dare fucking cum before I tell you! You don't decide how I use this dick. Got it?"

Your nod is accompanied by a loud, helpless whimper. No way you're staying quiet and not busting with how insane her pussy's grip and wetness is. It's met with a slap as expected, but you’re starting to go numb. Heck, it's downright enjoyable.

"Mmhhh, my baby boy. You're so adorable under me," she sighs, bending down and licking your cheeks as a brief remedy. You shudder at the sensation, then gasp as Minjeong gets going again, hard and fast from the off.

"Ahh...babe. You wanna—argh! Fuck! Wanna cum? Wanna breed this—pussy?"

Nodding multiple times now, to hell with the single nods. You're desperate, begging for release. Panties are completely soaked with drool, flowing down the sides of your head. 

Minjeong shifts her angle, now she actually is bouncing. It's shocking and  borderline painful, arching your back, knees bucking up. But she just giggles in between her long, loud moans, eyes hazy with euphoria.

"You're so desperate, aren't you?" she mewls. "Wanna let go? Fill me up? Want it so bad?"

You nod continuously, knowing it's the only right answer anyways. Minjeong shrieks and grabs your hands, bringing them to her waist. "Touch me." You waste no time gripping it like a lifeline, cock aching for release.

"Gahhh, what a good boy. Now give it to me, baby. Let go, fill me u—arghhh!" 

Not one second after hearing 'fill', you burst. Pent-up load blowing deep in her cunt. Broken cry slipping past your mouth, but Minjeong doesn't hear it. Not over the wails of her second orgasm, eyes rolled back as she milks your cock.

Minjeong collapses forward, her heavy breaths softening into thin wheezes next to your ear. Your eyelids become heavy, you relax your body, about to doze off—

"Hey," Minjeong's soft albeit slightly hoarse voice brings you back. "You okay, babe? Oh, your cheeks are so red!"

You chuckle weakly in response as she takes out her panties and drums her fingers over your cheeks. "Does it hurt?"

"It–urgh. It did, but...no problem. Really...liked it. Ehe."

"Tsch. You little freak." Minjeong pokes your reddened cheeks before kissing them gently, earning a delighted hum from you. "My freak."

"Mhm. How are you feeling? Feel better?" you ask, lightly playing with her damp hair.

"Yeah. Got...got it outta my system. Thanks, babe."

"Anytime." Your turn to kiss her now, once on the temple and another on her lips.

"Dinner?"

"Mmm...I gotta—we...clean up first. Carry me to the shower?" she murmurs, resting her chin on your chest.

You giggle at an idea that popped up in your head. "Sure...but there's a toll."

Minjeong raises an eyebrow, her breath hitching as she feels your cock twitching and hardening inside her. "Yeah? What is it?" She smirks and tilts her head.

"Another round. In the shower," you reply, rolling your hips slowly. Minjeong bites her lip and sighs, her eyelids fluttering. "Deal."

Deal sealed, you heave yourselves off of the couch, carrying Minjeong in your arms as she wraps her arms and legs around you. A good few pecks and giggles are exchanged throughout, gradually reigniting your passion.

That passion manifests as a slow candle flame rather than the firestorm that was the couch. Minjeong lets out small mewls and whimpers as you worship her neck, back and shoulders with your lips. Below, your hips roll into her tight pussy from behind, thrusting deep but gentle.

“Do you guys want to hear how I get to know IU or do you guys wanna let me continue?”

“Both” friend #1 and #2 says simultaneously.

“No.”

“HA! I knew it, this is just one of your fantasies right? There is no way a guy like you could be on par with someone like IU.”

“tsk Ya whatever, anyway like i was saying—”

Just then, me and my friends get interrupted by a far too familiar appearance.

“What are you doing?” Jieun asks.

“Oh, hi Jieun, I was just hanging out with my friends, say hi guys.” I am fucked, aren’t I?

“OH MY GOD, you are actually IU! Oh can we get an autograph?” Friend #2 asks, seems like he doesn’t realize what situation we are in right now.

Jieun ignores them and goes, “We are leaving. Now.” Then she just walks towards the exit into the parking lot.

“Damn, she's cold.” Friend #1 respond. I guess he is flabbergasted by the sudden surprise visit from Jieun.

“Yeah, she's probably going to kill me after this, I gotta go alright guys, maybe I’ll finish the story next time.” I left as soon as I said it, and I am pretty sure both of them are still in awe because now they start to really doubt their beliefs about me. HAHAHAHA.

Alright. We began on one fateful night, me and Lee Jieun walked inside one of the grand hotels in the area after her schedule. You know that yellow dress she wore in the drama? Yep, she had them for this special night.

So me and Jieun, we got inside the booked room right, and well it was not so easy to tell when it came to Jieun on what she wanted to do based on facial expression and body language alone. She was just like in the movie, stoic, like the kind of ice cold princess persona.

“So, would you like some drinks first?” I was talking like I was her servants, heck maybe I WAS her servants for the night, well could be worse.

“Give me that wine.” She pointed at my bag. Yes i carried a wine, she told me to do so.

Opening and serving the drink for her. Surprisingly she was quite a heavy drinker. She lets out a big sigh after gulping her first glass, like she just released a big chain that was on her back for the entire week or something.

I remembered we didn’t talk much, I did prepare some dinner for the both of us. She said the food I cooked tasted nice, but she said it with little to no emotion, so I couldn’t really get if she likes likes it or just saying it for the sake of saying it.

We finished eating, not talking much right, STILL it felt awkward in a way. Now I was quite inexperienced just to let it be clear, but I KNOW it wasn’t supposed to be this awkward silence. I was putting away the dirty container right, Jieun wanted to take a shower she said and went ahead, and I was like “Okay.” I don’t put much thought on it.

After I put away our bento and got myself ready to take a shower as well, I saw Jieun walked out of the shower room, still only wrapped in towel, and I can see her sexy legs her pale white and sexy thighs, not to mention the water drip on her upper body makes her tits and face shining, it just all adds up. She looked at me for a second, I was already shirtless by the way, then she just looked away and went to bed.

I took a quick shower since I already cleaned myself thoroughly for the preparation of tonight. Y’all I am not kidding, when I went out of the shower room, I saw Jieun LITERALLY masturbating on the bed.

Back in the bedroom, I saw Jieun on the bed with two fingers deep in her pussy. I was sure I wasn’t in the shower long but Jieun really pumped those fingers in and out of her pussy with a speed like she wanted to get it done soon.

Of course, she didn’t notice me, she was so focused on getting herself off. But something caught me by surprise was she moaned MY NAME.

Changing and mixing the rhythm of her finger fuck in herself. She also played with her perky tits, squeezing and pinching her nipples. I could clearly see her nipples got hardened by the second while she kept up her fingering in her pussy.

Sure enough, not long after, she came, squirting and wetting the bedsheet a little. I thought it was really hot. A woman with such a cold demeanor like her, hid such shameful behaviour, well well, that night I was sure to make her face every embarrassing moment we could make. Starting with her jolted reaction, seeing me stare at her after she came down from her high.

“What, since when did you—”

“I watched the whole thing, including the time you moan my name,” I said moving and leaned closer to her.

Her face instantly turned red, she tried to cover herself with a blanket but I stopped her hand.

“Tonight just got really interesting”

I cupped her face, leaned down and tried to kiss her, but immediately she turned her face away. I guessed she was still too shy that she got caught red-handed by me, masturbating to me.

Still maintaining her cold persona, yet no actual rejection, thus I continue. Started by kissing her cheek slowly, then moving around her jawline before going to the crock of her neck. I lightly sucked parts of her neck to leave a mark on her neck, a reminder of a secret discovered tonight.

“Awh, what are you doing? Don’t—” she said weakly. Jieun did not resist, instead her hands grabbed my head and pushed my head further towards her shoulder.

Using the moment as a sign of willingness, with lick and kisses I trailed a path from her neck down to her shoulder. Then, using my hands I grabbed her arm, lifted it up and pinned it above her head to the bed to expose the smooth and beautiful view of her armpit.

With both excitement and lust coursing through me, I chose to take my time appreciating this beautiful view in front of me. I leaned closer, put my face right up at her armpit and started sniffing at it. The scent from a combination of her perfume and sweat just hit the back of my nostril, and it flipped the feral switch inside me.

I put out my tongue and started licking every detail of her armpit, covering every part of that smooth skin with a trail of saliva right on top. It was so good, it was so nice. I lapped around her armpit while switching between licking and sniffing her armpit. I collected every trace of her sweat from her touching session earlier, leaving only my drool on her underarm before taking a glance at her.

“I didn’t know you have that kind of fetish,” she quipped.

I saw her giggling while throwing that comment at me, “do you like it?” I replied only to be met by her turning her face away from me again.

After indulging myself in her musk and sweat from her pits, I moved downward towards her tits. Squeezing it, I feel how soft and perky it is. I felt pity for those who could only ever see her in a tight dress or when she exposed her cleavage a little. I went on to nibble at her hardened nipple and swirl my tongue around it, which also elicits a moan from Jieun.

Switching between her right and left tits sucking on it, and at times gently biting on it as if hoping that something may come out of it. I did a couple of times until eventually I left a mark of my teeth on her areola.

“I hope I am doing as expectation, my princess”

“Hmph” Jieun still threw her face away as if ignoring me and dismissed me, but I saw a smile on her face.

Done with her tits, I trailed downwards again past her tummy to her pussy and thighs. Jieun immediately covered her pussy with her hands while simultaneously closing her legs together.

“Trust me,” I said calmly.

With that, I gently open her legs. I didn’t go straight to her pussy, but instead I started by kissing her knee, then trailing a path to her thighs. While slowly opening up her legs, I dived myself into her smooth and voluptuous thighs. I lick and munch on that white meaty skin that perhaps made Jieun ticklish that she started to close her legs every so often that forced me to use my hands to keep her legs apart.

“Augh, baby, please, my pussy…” she pleaded.

As soon as she said those words, I went straight to her folds. I can feel the intense heat coming out of her pussy, and I could see some trickle of her juice coating parts of the entrance of her pussy. She was so wet at that time that the only thing that crossed my mind was to suck that pussy and drink all of her juice.

“Babe, please, eat me up, please” she muttered.

That was surprising to her coming from Jieun after she ignored me from the start, but nonetheless, I complied, happily. My mouth to her clit, hardly sucking it which makes Jieun moan with a loud groan in response. Besides her clit, I make sure to put good use of my tongue lapping around her pussy mouth before plunging it inside her. Jieun was so wet that my tongue easily went in and out of her pussy, tongue fucking her until she is close.

“Ahh, Yes, Keep going, Keep Going, please, I am gonna cum, please”

Hearing those words made me put more effort in making her climax. While I tongue fuck her with occasional clit sucking, I was also pressing my hand to her chest and kneading on it. It didn’t take long after such stimulation that she reached another climax.

Her legs trembling, her juices flowing out like waterworks, and I just slurped it all up like a thirsty man.

Finished with the foreplay, I took my time to have her and me to catch some breath. I went ahead for another attempt at kissing her. This time though, she accepted it. I guess she was just too tired to care about her persona, but that’s a win in my book. For the first time tonight, I finally felt a genuine connection. Our lips met in a slow passionate kiss that provided temporary relief after an intense session we just had.

When I pulled back from the kiss, I parted her legs once more, aligning my throbbing hard cock to her soaked entrance. “I am putting in now,” I told her.

As I put my penis inside her, she responded with a small groan as I penetrated her insides slowly. My penis slid in easily because of how wet she was already. I pushed further until my tip reached deep inside her as I felt I hit the entrance of her womb.

“Yes, keep going,” Jieun managed to utter between her heavy breaths.

With audible confirmation, I proceeded to pump her in and out of her pussy, slowly at first then gradually up the pace. Everytime I hit her cervix I could hear her louder moan. It was not long until Jieun reached another orgasm, just only after a few deep and fast thrusts by me.

The sound she made when she reached her orgasm after getting her pussy fucked, it did bring another level of pleassure to my ear. With that, out of the way, I didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath before once again I fucked her.

This time however, it is time for me to have my release. This time I pumped her hard and fast right from the beginning, and tried to get her close to climax as soon as possible. This time because of how sensitive she has become after her climax previously, her pussy was choking my cock. It felt so freaking hot and wet that made me closer to my limit.

“Ah, Ryo, I am close…” she cried out.

Placing my hands on her frame, pinned it to the mattress as I responded “I am close as well, I am going to finish inside. Jieun, please tell me you are safe.”

A smile appeared on her face, probably the first time since the start of this night. “I’m not safe,” she said through ragged breath and moans. “But don’t you dare pull out,” Jieun then wrapped her legs around my waist, locking me inside her.

With that said, my mind went wild, no more thoughts, just the pure lust to fill her with cum. No more holding back, she wanted this, WE wanted this. I threw away the tempo, thrusting deep inside her, poking at her cervix until I heard her moans mixed with her constant gasping for air.

“Cum inside me, please, cum inside me!” she screamed.

And with that, I slammed my full length inside her and I let go. I filled her womb with thick and warm cum. Jieun reached her orgasm alongside me, her walls milking every single drop out of my balls, and her lower body trembled feeling the warm sensation pooling inside her.

After that session, we laid in bed, just relaxed, feeling that post orgasm clarity.

“So, uh, Jieun, do you think we can do this again?”

Jieun didn’t answer immediately, then she said “only if you can give me another load tonight.” She faced away from me when she said that, but that really got my brain short circuited, and my cock hard again in no time.

Tonight, shall be a story untold.

======================================

You haven’t moved from the door.

“You keep saying that but you also just said I’m not allowed to come over there.”

“Did I really say that?” Her mouth forms a pout meant to destroy you.

“You said ‘don’t come over here until I tell you,’ which is, you know, the same thing.”

“Mhmmm.” She wrinkles her nose. “But that was at the chapel, babe.”

“That was half an hour ago.”

“And? Time flies when you’re trying to seduce your husband.”

Her hips lift a little. The wet sound is very faint and very specific. You think about closing your eyes but you decide not to.

“Oppa~”

“Yes, my wife?”

“You should see what I’m going to do to you tonight.” Her smile widens. “I’m going to make you put it in me so many times the cabin’s gonna get a noise complaint.”

“From who? The roaming wildlife outside? The deer? There’s no one out there.”

“Seems like you’ve thought about this.”

“I’ve thought about this all day, babe. Even while the officiant was talking.”

“Romantic.”

“Mhmm.” Her fingers move faster. “Come closer.”

You take three steps. The floorboards creak. She immediately lifts her right foot, heel still on, and tips it forward into the air toward you.

“Nope nope nope nope.”

You stop.

“Baby—”

“Did I say you could come that close?” She pouts. That pout again. The cutest thing in the world and it’s yours now. “I said come closer. Not, like, all the way.”

“Magenta.”

“Don’t ‘Magenta’ me.” She nudges the air with her heel and you take a small step back. “There. Stay.”

“This is my cabin too. I’m on the rental agreement.”

“It’s our cabin, Oppa, and on our cabin’s rental agreement I am the boss until I say I’m not. I’m pretty sure it’s clause four.”

“That doesn’t exist, babe.”

“There absolutely is. I added it just now.” Her hand still hasn’t stopped. “Stop arguing. I’m trying to be horny here.”

“You know what I’m thinking about right now?”

“Mhmm.” She tilts her head. “Tell me.”

“I’m thinking about how fast I can get this dress off you and how much of me I can put inside you before midnight.”

Her hand stutters.

“Oppa.”

“What?”

“You can’t just say things like that.” She bites her lip. “I’m going to lose.”

“Lose what?”

“The game. The waiting game. Where I make you wait. All. Night. Long~”

You unbuckle, unzip, take yourself out. You hear her inhale and you wait. She is staring. Her hand has slowed down. Her foot is still up in the air between you, holding the line.

“Okay that’s not fair.”

“You started it, baby.”

“I know I started it but you can’t just bring your cock out, like, that and expect me to keep my composure.”

“You’re going to cum in about thirty seconds.”

“How dare you.” But her hand is moving faster again. “Take that back, baby. I have so much stamina, yknow~.”

“You’re slurring your words now, baby. You’re losing your mind.”

“Oppa~”

“What.”

“Just shut up and let me cum.”

She bites her bottom lip hard and her hand moves faster and her thighs start to shake and the heel still pointed at you starts wobbling in the air. The bodice of the dress slips off one shoulder. She doesn’t notice. Her hair sticks to her forehead.

“Oppa—oh god, oppa, oppa I’m—”

She cums with her foot still half-raised between you and a moan she’d never make on a normal day. Her thighs clamp around her own hand. The heel finally drops to the duvet. Her toes curl inside it.

She doesn’t move for a moment.

“Oppa~”

“Yes, my wife?”

“I take it back.”

“Take what back?”

“All of it.” Her voice has gone soft. Wet. She’s still breathing hard. “Please come here.”

“You sure, baby?”

“Please. Please. Please. I want it now. I want to still feel it tomorrow. Please please please come breed me, oppa, now, please—”

You’ve never undressed yourself faster.

It’s kinda funny seeing a near-six footer with his knees up on the couch. Also because it's the only way you don’t be a distraction. You do your best not to get in anyone’s way, occasionally lifting your feet on to the couch so that people can pass freely. You see Dahyun being swarmed by her make-up artists, along with her stylists showing her the different dresses that she could wear for the red carpet. After a while, and getting dangerously close to her call time, you see Dahyun and her team settle on a dress. A white wedding gown that had you seeing glimpses of a future you hope would come to fruition. 

“How do I look?” Dahyun asks as she twirls around, showing off her look.

Like I could get down on one knee and propose. 

Is what you would have said if you didn't have self control. Or didn’t care that you didn’t have the ring ready. A coin flip honestly. 

“He’s speechless.” her makeup artist chuckles.

“That works for me.” her stylist exclaims. “Come on! We have to go down now or we’re going to be late for the red carpet.” she orders as she starts collecting last minute essentials for emergencies. Her manager does the same, grabbing an extra pair of sneakers along with a coat. Dahyun gets the finishing touches of her look on, some simple jewelry along with her heels. She goes over herself in the mirror one last time before turning to you.

“You really have nothing to say?” she asks with a tilted head.

“You’re perfect Dubu. No other words needed.” you give her a hug and a quick peck on the lips. “Have fun okay? And enjoy the moment. Don’t over think.” you remind her.

“I will— well, I’ll try. It’s just, first film festival and all…”

“You’re starting again.” you tease her. “Just live in the moment, Dubu. It’s yours. Enjoy it.”

“Okay.” she gives you a meek smile.

“Hey! You two can do the lovey dovey stuff later. Let’s get moving!” Dahyun’s manager stresses. You both chuckle before sharing one last kiss. She goes with her manager through the door, giving you one last look. God she’s breathtaking.

— — —

Throughout the night, you follow Dahyun and her events through the live link that she gave you. Seeing her walk the red carpet with that beautiful white gown had your heart fluttering (just a tiny bit jealous that she was walking with Jinyoung). Overall though? You were proud of her. You were happy for her. She’s achieving a part of her dream right now, and you’re doing your best to be by her side as she does so. Because she definitely did the same for you.

The stream of the event ended, and after attending the premiere of her movie, Dahyun returned to the hotel room a few hours later. She runs into your arms, exhilaration pouring out of her because of the adrenaline rush, along with the excitement of sharing stories from the night. That is until she gets a taste of the mattress. She’s snoring in seconds. 

— — —

The second day of the festival is just as hectic for Dahyun, especially since she has a full schedule of events. Considering how tired she was the night before (and how she slept through the takeout you ordered for her), you decide to order room service breakfast for her so she could continue to get ready in the room. After sharing a few pancakes and some fruit after she wakes, she gets whisked away by her team for the first of three cycles of hair and make up along with three outfit changes. Once again, you’re left alone in the hotel room with not a lot to do. You decide to go on a jog, maybe walk around town for a bit to kill some time. You sneak in to some of her events, just staying at the back of the crowd and watching her from afar (though somehow she still manages to spot you, two years together and you still have no clue how).

The rest of the day was uneventful for you. While Dahyun attends the Marie Claire awards dinner, you spend your night waiting in the room for her after a quick walk to a nearby fast food joint. You finish your food while watching Kingdom for the fourth time (it’s compelling, don’t blame yourself), and just as the clock is about to hit midnight that’s when you hear the door’s lock click.

You stand up to meet Dahyun in the entry way. She walks in slowly. Almost solemnly. In her hand is an award. You don’t get to read the inscription immediately though, as she immediately rushes towards you for a hug. Naturally, your arms wrap around her in reply. Though you're not without your questions.

“Hey.” hou whisper to her.

“Hey.” hhe whispers in reply.

“You won an award?” you ask.

“Yeah… Yeah.” she says as she suddenly remembers what the weight in her hands is. “Rising Star.”

“That’s great.” you reply, “I got you some takeout just in case you were hungry.”

“Thanks.” she says as she finally relents from the hug. “Though I don’t think I can eat right now.”

She gives you a meek smile before she continues walking. She sets down the award on the coffee table before she continues on. 

Dahyun walks out onto the balcony to get some fresh air. From her actions, you can tell that something’s bothering her, and the least you can do is be there for her. You slowly walk up behind and hug her waist. You start kissing her exposed shoulder before you bury your head into the crook of her neck. She reaches up for your face and gives you a peck on the cheek before she goes to look at the view again.

“Are you alright, dub? You look like you have a lot on your mind.” you ask.

“Yeah… It’s just… a bit overwhelming."

“How so?”

“All of it. It all still feels… surreal. I just started acting but I’m already attending a film festival. Hell, I even won an award. I still can’t believe it's happening. I can’t help but feel like I’m in over my head.” you hear her voice quiver. It’s one of the rare moments where her idol persona is unable to hold back her true feelings. “Seeing all the candybongs in the crowd was amazing. I really felt the fans’ support. But, it made me feel that all this: the two film roles, the festival, the award, that all of it was only handed to me because I’m an idol. It felt like… like I didn’t earn it.”

Dahyun’s confession sits between you as she continues to gaze out into the sea. You could tell that she was uncomfortable carrying those thoughts on her own throughout the past two days. It was taking their toll on her. You know you have to do something. Something that could take a bit of the weight off of her shoulders. 

“It’s normal, Dahyun. But you shouldn’t feel that way.” You hug her tighter, hoping the pressure matches the reassurance that you want to give her. “I’ve seen you work your ass off for this. You managed to add acting lessons in your already hectic schedule of being an idol. In between rehearsals, recording sessions, music show performances, even world tours. You put your mind and heart to it. You entered the industry with the utmost respect and reverence. There are tons of actors who started out as idols. Some decided to coast on their fame alone. You’re choosing not to. You decided to keep on studying, keep on training, keep on developing.”

“Did your fame as an idol help? Sure.” you argue as you spin her around, hands tightly gripping her exposed shoulders to let her know you’re sincere, “But, it was your hard work that got critics, directors and other actors to acknowledge you. It was your respect for the industry that earned, not just that award, but their respect as well. Okay?”

A tear falls down Dahyun’s cheek as she goes in to hug you tight. You give her one in reply, holding her close to let her know she’s all right. She looks up at you, all teary eyed but wearing a soft smile.

“When did you get so good at comforting people?” she asks jokingly.

“You and Yoona comforted me so much that I picked up a few things. Also the therapy sessions, not completely useless.” you both laugh over the last joke before she reaches up and plants a quick kiss on your lips. 

When Dahyun pulls back, you see her demeanor change in real time. The soft smile fades into something more serious. You’re worried that she might be getting in her own head again when she pulls you down for a deeper kiss. Her lips wrestle yours for control. Her tongue breaches into your mouth to clash against yours. In pulling you down towards her, she unknowingly starts moving back towards the balcony railings. Your hands act quickly, holding on to the cold metal before her exposed back makes contact. Her hands migrate from the back of your neck to your cheeks, holding your face as she continues to lap at you. 

“You know, Minju’s just a few rooms away.” Dahyun says when she pulls away wearing a cheeky grin on her face. “If you want, I can call little Min-Min over so we can have even more fun.”

“A tempting offer. Really.” you confess as you grab her hand and kiss it. “But we’re barely out of the dog house with Yoona after the car fun we had. Inviting one of her crushes for a threesome without her might send us right back in there.”

“I can’t believe she’s still holding that over our heads. We made her cum 5 straight times when we got home that night.” Dahyun complains. “AND she had you all alone for that little cheerleader role play you did during that festival.”

“She told you about that?”

“Yeah!” Dahyun exclaims. “And frankly I’m a bit jealous now too.” She jokes, making you both laugh. 

“Seriously though, I appreciate the offer. But tonight’s your night. I just want to focus on you.”

“Always the romantic.” Dahyun scoffs. “Gets offered a threesome with two actresses but turns it down for my sake.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who wants to fuck Minju here.”

“You’re lying if you say you don’t want to.” she chuckles. “Go ahead inside. I need a bit of fresh air after… that. Got myself all flustered.” She jokes. You just nod, holding her hand and kissing it before you head back in the room. When you’re out of earshot of the balcony, Dahyun directs her attention to the one two rooms away.

“Minju!” she tries to shout quietly.

“Unnie?” Minju’s head pops out of her room.

“No dice tonight. Maybe next time!” she whispers.

“It’s fine, Unnie!” Minju assures her. “Also, from what I heard, he sounds like a keeper. Enjoy the night, Unnie!” she says with a sly smile as she goes back in the room. The comment earns a chuckle from Dahyun, though the idea stays in her mind as she steps back into the room.

As Dahyun comes back in from the balcony, you’re finally given the chance to appreciate her look in its entirety. The black dress that Michael Kors sent her looks fucking amazing as it contrasts her bright pale skin. The embroidered flowers throughout the dress gives it some texture and detail that naturally draws your gaze. The best part? The back. Or the lack of it. The dress is backless, exposing Dahyun’s smooth and perfect back to the world. Her porcelain skin is perfectly framed by the dress. It leaves almost nothing to the imagination and is probably one of her most daring outfits yet.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Dahyun’s question shakes you out of the trance.

“What? Oh, sorry.” you mutter in response “It’s just my first proper look of you in that dress. It looks so fucking good on you.”

“You know, you say that about every outfit I wear.” she says as she starts walking to you.

“Well it’s true. And there’s a common denominator among them anyway.” you respond as you meet her, your hands finding her waist again while your fingers rest on her exposed back. 

“Which is?”

“You.” you say before you give her a quick peck. “You make all those outfits look good.”

“I could be wearing a garbage bag and you’ll say I look good.” she jokes.

“Guilty as charged.” you say with a smirk before capturing her lips again, now in a searing kiss.

Dahyun reaches up, arms wrapping around your neck, fingers locking behind your nape, pulling you in for a much deeper kiss than what you had planned. You reciprocate it at first, tempted to let yourself drown in the taste of her lips. You almost give in, but you decide to push through with what you initially intended.

You spin Dahyun around, your lips finding property on her neck once again. You don’t spend any more time with quick pecks. Now you’re out to mark her, suck on your flesh to let people know she’s yours.

“Fine. I’ll admit it, dubu.” you tease her as your fingers lightly caress her back. “I do have one gripe with the dress. I got a bit jealous that you were flaunting around your perfect back. I thought this was just for me?”

“It is– oh!” she falters when your lips make contact with her skin. “Just -mhmm- teasing onces. Just showing off something that they can never have.”

“Because you’re the only one who can touch me the way I want.”

Your fingers continue to dance on her skin.

“The only one who can hold me the way I want.”

Your palms make contact, caressing her back and muscles.

“The only one who can kiss me the way I want.”

Your lips make contact again. Deeper this time. Enough suction to make a mark on her pale skin.

“The only one allowed to taste me.”

Your tongue finally gives in, licking her. Tasting her.

You don’t bother with a reply. Instead, you push the straps of her dress down her shoulders. Gravity does the rest for you. The contrast of the black gown as it falls down Dahyun’s perfect  and pale figure is mesmerizing before it pools on the floor. She steps out of the pooled fabric left only in her panties, rushing into your arms and pulling you down into a kiss. She reaches for the hem of your shirt, eager to have you match her state of undress. You indulge her, helping her with your shirt as you pull it over and off your head. Her hands move to your pants, desperately trying to undo your belt before you move in to help her again. When you’re left only in your boxers, she jumps into your embrace. Her arms wrap around your neck while her legs lock around your hips. One of your hands wraps around her back while the other grips on her thigh to keep her up. 

“So what does the rising star want to do tonight?” you ask Dahyun in between kisses.

“I wanted to fuck minju.” she jokes as she whines against your lips.

“Aside from that.”

“Fine… How about we just have some fun, you fuck me real good, fill me to the fucking brim, and make sure I’ll be sleeping soundly on the train ride back to Seoul?”

“I can work with that.” you joke back with a smirk.

You adjust Dahyun in your embrace, peeling her legs from your hips before hooking them in your arm. She yelps in surprise from the sudden movement, before giggling when she realizes why.

“Bridal carry? Really? Did the gown from the other night give you some ideas?”

“Maybe” you joke before she kisses you again.

“Where’s the ring?” she jokes against your lips.

“We’ll get there.”

In a few quick steps, you carry Dahyun to the bed, where you lay her gently in the middle. You take your place in between her legs. She reaches out to you, so you lean down, letting her hold your face and pull you into a kiss.

By now, the two of you have developed a cycle with these trysts, and honestly, you could never forgive yourself if you don’t get Dahyun to cum with your mouth at least once. 

With that, you separate from her lips to her dismay, but quickly remedy that by trailing kisses down her hourglass figure. Each one has her trembling on the bed. From her cheek, to her chin, to her neck, to her breasts and the space in between. You’re tempted to stop at her stomach, feeling the ridges of her muscles on your lips as they hide underneath the smoothness of her perfect midriff, instead you move on. You’ll come back to that later.

When you come face to face with Dahyun’s covered core, you can’t help but go crazy over the contrast that the black lace has against her porcelain white skin. You give her thighs a few quick and teasing pecks before you actually settle down. Your hands run up her legs, stopping at the bands of her underwear. You hook them in your fingers as she raises her hips, a tale old dance that the two of you have grown accustomed to. You pull her underwear down her legs, entranced as the black cloth sails down her white limbs. When you get it off, you throw it aside as she spreads her legs.

The view? Mesmerizing.

Her scent? Intoxicating.

Her taste? Ambrosial. 

You dive back into Dahyun’s core, trailing kisses, licks, and bites along her thighs that have her shaking before stopping at her lower lips. You let your warm breath linger on her sensitive core, which makes her sit up on her elbows and watch you with anticipation. When your gazes meet, your eyes stay glued to hers as you give her the first lick.

“Oh fuck!”

Then another.

“God, Chris!”

Then another.

“Fuck– Just like that!”

Repeat it. Over and over and over again. Each lick getting faster. Each one reaches deeper. Parting her lower lips and getting a taste of her inner walls. From just above her puckered hole to just below her enlarged sensitive nub. Earning each moan that escapes from her throat.

Every lick brings Dahyun closer and closer to the edge, though you knew what would actually bring her over it. When you focus your mouth on her clit, you ease in two fingers into her before pumping at a relentless pace. Her eyes widen from the sudden intrusion, along with you putting pressure on her sensitive spots inside.

“Holy fuck! God— Right there! Chris -huff- baby making me feel so fucking good.”

Your mouth and fingers take turns working on her inner walls, making a slurry of curses and moans pour out of her mouth. You take her to her absolute limit before rubbing just the right spot and sucking on her clit, making her moan out a final warning.

“God! I’m close! Just like that babe, please! I’m close! I’m close! I’m—”

Dahyun doesn’t get to finish her thought as the pleasure of her climax takes over and an ear-piercing cry rips from her throat. Her body folds in half, upper body sitting up, as she grabs on to your head and pushes you deeper. Her thighs snap around your head, cutting off the circulation to your brain. Even woozy, you continue eating her out and pumping your fingers into her as she rides her high. Her hips start grinding against your face, as if her hands weren’t pushing you deep enough into her core. You capture the gushes of her juices with your tongue, tasting the sweet product of your efforts.

Eventually, Dahyun comes down from her high. The grip of her hands and thighs loosen as she melts back into the bed. A satisfied smile adorns her face as you slowly travel up her body, trailing kisses that leave shiny marks thanks to your lips still coated in her arousal. You get sidetracked a bit, taking your time licking the sweat that formed on her midriff and chest, but you eventually make your way to her lips. She welcomes yours, laps her tongue against your lips and mouth to get a taste of herself. Her arms rest on your shoulders while a hand gets its fingers tangled in your hair. When you both pull away, you rest your forehead on hers as a soft and satisfied smile forms on her face. She’s ready to take a few moments of rest as she comes down from her high.

But you don’t plan on letting her.

You grab your fully hard and aching length and tease her lower lips at first, swiping your tip up and down to part her lips before you nestle at her entrance. Dahyun’s eyes widen when she feels this, unsure if she’s ready.

“Chris— babe, wait. I’m still sensitive. I don’t think—”

“I know, but trust me. I’ll make you feel good.”

You start pushing in slowly. Dahyun’s eyes roll back in pleasure as she bites her lower lip to stifle her moans. She holds on to you tighter with every inch of yourself you push into her. Her mouth finally betrays her when you bury your length inside her, unable to stifle the moan that escapes from her throat. You give her a second to adjust to you filling her up before you start pulling your hips back. Just as your tip is barely exiting her, you snap your hips back, filling her completely in one swift move. She mewls from the sudden feeling, digging her nails into your back from the shock.

You repeat the action, starting with a slow and steady pace. For now, you let Dahyun’s heightened sensitivity drive the tryst. The feeling of her walls fluttering around your dick as they cling to your shaft while you pull out is only comparable to heaven, thankfully it is for the both of you.

A constant stream of moans start to flow out of Dahyun’s mouth, letting you know she is enjoying this as well. Her uncertainties from earlier are gone. Now, she melts into your embrace and the pleasure you’re giving her, even if her grip on your back doesn’t relent.

“Feeling good, dub?”

“So– GOD! So fucking good baby. Filling– oh fuck! Filling me up so much!”

You can’t help but smirk from Dahyun’s reaction. You take it as a sign to pick up the pace. The sound of skin slapping on skin increases and quickens as you start to properly fuck her like she wants. Each drive has you reaching deeper into her, pressing your tip against the entrance of her womb. Each thrust has your shaft rubbing against the sensitive parts of her inner walls. You’re sprinting the both of you to the finish line, but it seems like she has something else in mind.

As you continue to piston in and out of Dahyun, you notice her gaze drift to the open balcony before meeting your eyes again. She doesn’t say a single word, but you already know what she’s thinking.

“Are you sure?” you ask her as you pause your movements.

She takes a moment to think about it before a smile forms on her face. She nods her head to confirm.

You can’t help but smirk as you relent to her wishes. Pulling out of her as you stand up from the bed. She reaches up with both arms, making you hold on to her hands as you pull her up. She giggles as you get her up on her feet, even more so when you pepper her hands with kisses. She reaches up to give you a quick peck in reply before she makes her way to the open balcony.

Dahyun takes her place on the balcony, both hands on the railings as she leans against the metal. Her pale skin glows in the darkness, reflecting the little light that came from the moon and your room. She takes in the view of the dark sea and the lights of the skyscrapers from farther down the beach. The cool ocean breeze that hits her naked figure makes her shudder a bit, though you quickly remedy that by hugging her from behind. She looks over your shoulder, reaches for your cheek and brings you in for a fiery kiss. When your lips separate, she whispers her final order.

“Fucking rail me.”

An apt request that makes you chuckle. You ease your length back into her, making her moan out into the night sky.

You do away with the ceremony of starting off slow and building up your pace. That’s not what Dahyun wants. Instead, you begin fucking her with the same pace you had already built up before the two of you moved to the balcony. Like she wants you to. Her knuckles turn white as she holds on to the railing tighter from the pleasure. Your hands are restless. One second you have your fingers sinking deep into the flesh of her hips as you continue to pound her from behind. The next second, you’re reaching under her to knead her mounds in your palms. The next you’re ghosting her arms before joining her hands at the railings, countering the cold of the metal with the warmth of your skin. Your bodies are close as your hips are left as the only parts moving.

It’s unrelenting. Frantic. A final sprint that you hope would bring you both to nirvana. Not only does it do its job, but it causes her to lose control as well.

Dahyun doesn’t bother to stifle her moans anymore. In fact, she lets them rip out of her throat at her loudest volume.

“You’re pretty loud, dub.” you try to caution her. “Aren’t you afraid someone might hear?”

“God— let them.” she sighs.

“You’re not scared of being seen like this? Bent over and being pounded from behind?”

“No. Fuck no.” she says in between moans. “Let them -FUCK- let them see what they’re missing out on. Let them see -oh god- what they can’t have. Let them see what belongs only to you.”

“Say that again.” you whisper to her as you lean down. “I need to hear it, dubu.”

“I’m yours, Chris. I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours, Dahyun.”

Dahyun looks over her shoulder and reaches for your face again. She pulls you in, capturing your lips into a searing and passionate kiss. You reply by holding her close, arms wrapping around her waist as you start giving her your all.

You’re not sure if it was the kiss.

You’re not sure if it was the words.

But you feel the familiar burn in your gut. Signalling the inevitable. Fortunately for you, you could feel Dahyun’s walls start to flutter around you as well.

“Dahyun -fuck- Dub I’m close!”

“Me too! -oh god- together Chris! Inside! Make me yours and you’ll be -FUCK- you’ll be mine.”

Your lips find hers again as you bury yourself deep into Dahyun. Like her plea, you both reach your peaks at the same time. You feel the first throb of your dick shoot the first string of cum into her waiting womb just as her walls start to contract around you. Your arms wrap tighter around her waist as you hold her as close as possible, your naked bodies flush against one another. The two of you stay still as you continue to throb into her and fill her up while her walls continue to spasm and milk you for all you have. 

Your combined gasps and pants escape out into the open air as the two of you start to come down from your shared high. True to her personality, Dahyun starts giggling as she rests her head against the guard rail. You can’t help but laugh too as your forehead rests on her back. She stands up straight first, making you straighten up as well. Her hands reach back to your face, pulling you in for one last deep kiss. When she pulls away she gives you a smile before making a request.

“I think I’m in the mood for the take out now.”

You can’t help but chuckle.

“I’ll heat it up.”

You pull out of Dahyun with a few drops of your combined release dripping on the balcony floor. She shudders from the sudden emptiness, as well as from her shaky legs as she struggles to stay up right and walk. To keep her from falling, you take her into your arms again, carrying her across the room and setting her down on the couch. Once she’s settled, you go heat up her food for her.

— — —

“So what time is your train leaving… later?” you ask Dahyun while she’s eating.

“Manager said we’re taking the 10 am train.”

“It’s almost four. You barely have any time for sleep.”

“I’ll sleep on the train. Besides, there’s something else we can do that might fit the time frame…” Dahyun suggests with a cheeky smile.

“Round two?” she exclaims.

“A shower?” you blurt out.

“I mean…” Dahyun tries to bargain. “We can do round two in the shower?”

“Your manager’s gonna hate me.” you joke as you relent to her wishes.

“She already does.” Dahyun chuckles as she finishes her food. She then grabs your wrist and stands up, heading for the bathroom. “Now come on! Quit wasting time.”

You can’t help but laugh as she drags you to the bathroom and into the shower. As your shared laughs echo in the small space and your hands are already on each other, your mind drifts back to the declarations you both made on the balcony.

She is yours.

You are hers.

Almost like professing vows. The similarities to nuptial traditions aside, you’re ready for what those declarations entail. 

You’ll always be there to support her.

Your eyes gravitate to Dahyun as she snuggles up to you while she reads her book. Her head’s resting on your chest and shoulder, her legs sitting across your thighs. You can’t help but think how good she looks in that oversized (your) sweater, with her shorts just peeking out from under the hem. Beyond them, were her thighs, which always gets you in a trance. Normally, the two of you would already be all over each other to fully utilize a night alone together, but she unfortunately has an early schedule the following day. Meaning sex was off the table. However, an idea starts to form in your head, and you can’t help but smirk as you enact your naughty plan.

You adjust Dahyun’s position, having her fully sit on your lap. Her back presses against your chest as she remains unfazed by your sudden action. Your arms stay wrapped around her waist for a moment before they traverse downwards of her body. You stop at her thighs, letting your finger tips dance on her milky white skin. You never fully grab her. You just tease her with soft and light touches, going up and down from her knees to her upper thigh. Her body stiffens a bit. Her breaths start to become deeper. Throughout all that, she remains focused on her book. Or, at the very least, acts like it.

“Chris…” Dahyun mutters under her breath. “Babe… We can’t…”

“I know.” You whisper in her ear. “That doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel good.” 

Your fingertips are replaced by your palms, with you now massaging her thighs instead of just teasing them. You grip her flesh hard, kneading them between your fingers. You didn’t have to ask if she likes it. The moan that escapes her mouth does the job. She tries to stifle the rest from escaping her mouth by biting her lower lip, but it’s a futile attempt.

Your massage is deliberate. Not just randomly kneading her flesh at random spots, no. You start off at her knees again, gripping her flesh hard and letting them sit in between your fingers. When you feel her soften, you start slowly moving up while repeating your actions until you're barely an inch away from her core. You couldn’t see it since she was facing away from you, but you knew she wasn’t focused on her book anymore. Her body was tense on top of you. You could tell her eyes were darting from the words on the page to her thighs, heavily anticipating your touch. Instead, you continue to tease her. Your actions just barely get you close before you move back down again. Her breath quickens with anticipation. She tries to nudge her body just the slightest bit to finally get you to touch her, only for you to move down in response.

You could feel it. Dahyun was getting desperate for your touch.

To make it even more unbearable for her, your lips start ghosting her neck. You never make contact, letting your hot breath crash against her porcelain skin with each of your breaths. She shudders from the sensation, unable to focus on either. Her eyes close from the pleasure, unable to bear the teasing anymore. Suddenly, they’re shocked open when it happens.

Your knuckle accidentally but maybe also intentionally brushes against her crotch, her lower lips getting caught and spread open under shorts. Dahyun shudders hard on top of you. The slightest touch almost brings her to her climax. It’s driving her insane, with you being so close yet still so fucking far.

That’s when you feel it.

Dahyun melts in your embrace. She shudders from your touch. Her arms drop to her side, along with the book crashing on to the couch. Her mouth betrays her as she starts muttering in her softest voice possible.

“Please…” 

“What was that, dub?” you whisper into her ear before going back to breathing hot air all over her shoulder and neck.

“Please… touch me…” She whispers again.

“I need to hear you say it, Dahyun.” your voice may be soft, but she feels the authoritativeness. Your hands go back to the top of her thighs, focusing all your action just close enough to her core that it drives her insane. One hand travels above her shorts, playfully breaching the garter but never fully entering. It’s what finally pushes her off the edge

“Oh god— Oh fuck! For fuck’s sake! Just fuck me, babe! Please! I need you!”

Her plea satisfies you. In sync, your lips finally make contact with her neck just as your hand breaches her shorts and makes contact with her folds. The audible moan that escapes from Dahyun’s throat echoes in the living room. Her whole body shudders from the fruits of her anticipation. You ease in two fingers into her soaking core, your thumb and palm putting pressure on her inflamed clit. You grant her wish, pumping your digits into her sopping cunt at a relentless pace, rewarding her for surviving the edging you put her through. Your thumb and palm stay  glued to her clit, pressing on it, kneading it, playing it to maximize her pleasure.

By now, Dahyun’s a moaning wreck, squirming in your embrace as you continue to pump your fingers into her. Your other hand, unfortunately, abandons her thighs and sneaks under her sweater, tracing a path over her smooth tummy and being pleasantly surprised by the lack of a bra. The second you take one of her mounds in your grasp, she moans— nearly shouts at the top of her lungs in approval.

“God, babe! You’re— you’re making me -FUCK- feel so fucking good!”

You don’t reply since your mouth is still attached to her neck. Instead of words, you reply by kneading the soft flesh of her tits in your hands, pinching and pulling her hardened peaks before letting them dance in the spaces between your fingers. You also ramp up the actions of your other hand. Your thumb presses on her clit, flicking it occasionally. Your fingers start pumping into her harder and faster, pushing deep and rubbing her most sensitive spots. She’s restless in your hold as the moans continue to pour out of her mouth. Her hips buck against your hand, meeting every thrust of your digits, driving you deeper into her. It only takes a few more pumps, rubbing the right spot before—

“Oh fuck! Babe– Chris! I’m close! I’m close! I’m—”

Dahyun cries out in pleasure when the wave of pleasure hits her. Her body arches up and away from you as she tenses up. Her hips stutter in meeting you as you continue to pump into her through her orgasm. Gushes of her nectar crash against your digits, soaking your hands, her shorts and everything surrounding the area. Your mouth latches on to her neck, kissing and sucking on her flesh as added stimulation, marking her skin for yourself. 

The slurry of moans and gibberish pouring out of Dahyun finally slows down, being replaced by her labored breaths. She melts in your embrace, going limp on top of your body. When you finally latch off from her neck, you see the blissful look on her face. Half-lidded eyes matched with a satisfied smile. You give her a quick peck on her cheek before you lean into her ear. 

“So…” you whisper to her “did you feel good?”

“Yes…” she mutters under her labored breath “fucking… yes. Fucking ruined my shorts.”

“To be fair, you ruined mine too.” You retort with a joke as she notices that she also soaked yours.

“I’m… I need a shower.” She says as she stands on shaky legs. Her shorts and underwear finally succumb to gravity, hitting the ground and pooling at her ankles before she steps out of them. She starts making her way to the bathroom but then notices that you’re still sitting down.

“I thought by now you would know that’s an open invitation.” She says as she looks over her shoulder. You spring to your feet, whiff her off of hers, and carry her the rest of the way to the shower.

When she opens her eyes, Dahyun’s greeted with a small and intimate cinema. In the middle are two reclining lounge chairs, a tub of popcorn on each seat, and an old-timey film projector set-up behind them. Her mouth’s left agape in awe with what you were able to set up.

“Happy Birthday, Dubu.” you whisper the greeting as you wrap your arms around her waist. Her shocked expression turns into a beaming smile before she turns her head and gives you a quick peck on the lips.

“This is amazing. Thank you.” She whispers back as she lays her head on your chest.

“I got all your favorites. But, there’s one thing I’ve been meaning to show you first.” Dahyun gives you a puzzled look, but it’s wiped away as you guide her to her seat. She sinks into the plush leather with the bucket of popcorn sitting in her lap. You go to the projector and set-up the film reel. After pressing a few buttons, the projector slowly whirs to life. The reels start spinning and a light beams on to the screen. A countdown from 10 starts winding down on the projection, signalling you to take your seat beside Dahyun. She’s curious as to what you had in store, but when the scenes start rolling she could feel the tears start to build up.

The first scene was from one of your first dates. Maybe the fourth or fifth, if Dahyun could remember it properly. It was the two of you walking hand in hand along the Han River. The sky was painted orange, the sun sinking in the far off horizon. You were recording Dahyun, seeing her laugh as you told her corny joke after corny joke. Back in the present, Dahyun’s grip on your hand grows tighter as she rests her head on your shoulder.

The next scene that pops up is from when the two of you finally decided to move in together. Dozens of boxes were scattered in your, used to be, barren home. You and Dahyun were zipping around the empty living room, carrying boxes, unpacking plates, utensils, kitchenware, and other appliances. It ends with the two of you sitting on the floor, surrounded by empty boxes, tired from unpacking. She was leaning on you, just like how she was now, talking about future plans for the house while the two of you were eating take out. Your attention is momentarily taken from the screen when you feel her grip on your hand loosen, only for her to start hugging the rest of your arm.

With every memory that plays on the screen, Dahyun’s hold on you gets tighter as she tries to hold back the tears. Your first trip together. Every celebration of your anniversary for the past five years. The first time you met her parents and her meeting yours. The silent nights of laying in bed or on the couch while reading books or watching movies together. The lazy Sunday mornings of making breakfast for each other. Each treasured memory that flashes on the screen reminds the both of you of your shared journey, how far you’ve both come while being at each other’s sides.

As the scenes continue to roll, subtitles start flashing at the bottom of the screen.

“It’s only you.”

“It will always be you.”

“I dream of growing old with you.”

“I hope to be with you until the end.”

“You’re the only one my restless heart yearns for.”

Dahyun finally lets the tears fall as she reads the messages. At this point, she’s close to sobbing on your shoulder, making you wonder if you did too good of a job. 

As the scenes start to fade away, the final message burns on the film. An audible gasp escapes from Dahyun’s mouth, in between the sobs, as she feels your arm leave her embrace. When the message is fully clear on the screen, she turns to your direction. There she sees you. 

Out of the seat. 

On the floor on bended knee. 

A ring in hand to complement the message on the screen.

“Will you marry me?”

Your eyes are locked to hers. Both of you are on the verge of tears. She smiles through the sobs and joins you on the floor. In a moment that lasts a lifetime, she whispers the one syllable reply that makes you the happiest man alive.

“Yes.”

After the word leaves her mouth, the tears start streaming down your face. You pull her in for a hug, your lips meeting to seal the decision. Even if your lips separate, you hold her close and tight. Unwilling to let her go. Unwilling to let the moment pass. Eventually, it does. 

You both rise to your feet, still holding on to each other. You sit down, Dahyun still in your arms as she sits across your lap. Her head rests on your chest as she admires the engagement ring on her finger. When her eyes finally leave the diamond, she meets yours while looking up. She beams you a bright smile, eyes still glassy from the tears shed earlier. You can’t help yourself and kiss her again. When you pull away, she asks you:

“What’s next?”

Who knew a simple question could have a multitude of meanings. It could mean which movie the two of you were finally going to watch. It could mean something more with what’s next in your intertwined lives. A loaded question that could carry on for decades. For you, it didn’t matter. Whatever you may face, you’re sure about one thing. With Dahyun, you knew you would be able to surpass it. 

It's Friday, and this rooftop bar feels good at night. The fact that there's no sun to set your skin ablaze certainly does help. There is chatter happening behind the two of you, though you're not swayed from this ethereal woman standing in front of you. Her hair is a gorgeous black, with her pointy ears poking out on the sides.

"You can ask — ice-breaking and all."

"What if I say something offensive?"

"I'll tell you."

Her eyes are cute. They're alternating between yours and the amber-tinted drink in her hand. The crop top leaves her toned midriff exposed to the summer night, and the jeans outline her legs well. You feel a bit despondent about your outfit choice tonight — a basic black long sleeves, a pair of cargo pants — but it's like the fashion for men is diverse.

"What are you working on right now?" Minju asks.

"It's a website — another website. It looks different from the last one, but I see nothing because I work on the backend," and you shrug. "I thought you'd be more personal with the questions."

Minju chuckles. You notice her ears twitching slightly. "I'm more vulgar than offensive, actually."

You raise your eyebrows a bit, but there's also this curiosity to gamble on her next words. Alas, she's pretty enough for you to tolerate her questions. "Morbid curiosity — how vulgar are we talking?"

Minju downs the drink suddenly — probably about eclipsing that shyness. She makes an almost painful expression as a result of whatever is going on in her esophagus.

"So," and it's almost a squeal from Minju, "when you give a blowjob, blood is flowing to your partner's dick, right? Have you ever had the urge to, like, bite into it and suck the blood out with your fangs?"

You blink, and there's almost a gasp leaving your mouth. "That was simultaneously vulgar and offensive."

Minju gives you an awkward smile. "Yeah, sorry, I'll see myself out now." She takes a step backward, so ready to leave you alone tonight.

"I can't answer that because I've never sucked a dick," and you smile, stopping her departure. "I guess I could ask you something filthy too?"

"Oh," and Minju tilts her head a little. "If you wanna make it even, sure."

"Alright." You take a deep breath, almost not believing the words that are about to come out of your mouth. "Have you ever gotten your dick sucked by a vampire?"

—

Minju's room is basic, to be honest. She doesn't seem to be the decorative type, aside from her family photo and a few Ikea plushies supporting her back right now. You notice her headphones having bigger ear cushions than yours. It helps with prolonged use to not have her ears folded and ruin their shapes.

"How the fuck am I going to tell the doctor if you actually bite into my dick?" and Minju laughs. Her hand is ruffling your hair tenderly as you kiss the tip of her cock continuously. It's twitching against your lips. Her hard nipples are visible under the crop top.

"Snakebite on the toilet?" you joke back, only to realize that the situation is actually possible. You've heard one of your friends having a snake slithering through the pipe before.

Minju lets out another chuckle. "That works, I guess."

"I wore braces back in high school, if that helps," you tell her with your mouth still warming her tip. "Was a pain to get rid of the blood after drinking though."

"Lucky that you didn't suck dicks back then."

"At least cum blends in with the color of my teeth?"

Minju ponders your words for a bit as you slide your hand on her cock languidly. She throbs in your palm with a consistent rhythm, with your warm breath over her skin. "It's too dark and I'm too drunk to see your teeth, so I'll believe that they're seminal white."

You just laugh heartily before wrapping your lips around Minju's shaft again. She moans quietly at the pillowy sensation of you, grasping your hair a tad tighter. You let your tongue lap the underside of her in your mouth. Her woody perfume fills your nostrils along with the slight sweat from your walk back together.

"Wow, fuck, you're good," Minju whines, putting force into the back of your head harsher than before. You force yourself down her cock further until she begins to probe the back of your throat. There are these gagging and retching sounds coming from your neck, and you just keep pushing until your lips touch her pubic bone.

Your eyes become all teary from the struggle against Minju's cock nudging your pharynx — just a few millimeters past your uvula. Regardless of the discomfort, you slide your tongue all over her length, lathering your spit and leaking drool all over. Minju just moans shamelessly, letting her voice echo inside her medium-sized apartment. Let's hope her neighbors work at night.

You decide to pull back a bit eventually, having your lips dragged along her foreskin and prompting louder groans from Minju. Then, you push back in, and it just becomes a wet loop between your fangy mouth and her shaven cock. There's utterly zero desire to sink your fangs into her skin and suck the blood out of her. It's not really a crime — an accident between a vampire's mouth and a person — but you'd rather drink her cum right now.

"Fuck," Minju rasps, mind all scattered and starting to control the pace of your head with her hand. Her hips are thrusting up into your mouth instinctively as well, jabbing your throat in a repeated motion. You're choking and struggling to breathe, obviously. But her elated expression — watched through these tears — it's giving you the energy to make Minju pump her seed into you.

There are some risks associated with getting a blowjob from an individual with fangs, of course, but there's also the thrill of the danger of your sharpness teasing her foreskin like this. Moreover, despite all the technologies, it's still a rare occurrence to get into this situation — getting a vampiric blowjob as a non-vampiric person. You haven't met many solar folks in this city since your graduation. Park Minju is getting one of the unique heads of her life here.

"Hey, hey, can I try something with you?" and Minju loosens her hold on the back of your head.

You get off her cock for an inquiry, and there's your drool all over. "What is it?"

"Can I take a photo?" Minju asks with a toothy smile, and you're nervous, to be honest. It's definitely weird to have yourself photographed by someone you just met, especially when you're sucking their cock.

Minju knows the weight of the situation, however, and she continues, "It's a polaroid, and I'll give it to you."

You blink, still unsure of the ins and outs of the situation. "A picture of me sucking your dick?"

"A picture of us!" Minju persuades. "You appear in a polaroid, right?"

"I appear on my iPhone camera, so I guess so? Why would you wanna do this, though? You get nothing here."

"I'm a photographer at heart," Minju says with a smile. "I'd be one if I'm not in healthcare."

You smile as well. "Do I have to pose?"

—

You lying down on your back really makes her cock hitting awfully deep inside your throat.

"Place your hand on your neck," Minju instructs, also gently bringing your hand there as well. Her palm is soft against the back of your fingers. "Feel me."

The sensation is overwhelming — her perfume and sweat, her girth, her face through your tears. You're shaking and choking on her cock desperately, though you're doing nothing — thigh squeeze to abort — to stop her from ravaging your body like this.

Minju pushes herself deep into you. And when your hand is on your own neck, you can feel it being stretched by her length. She's stealing your air, and you're more than ecstatic to let her do that. Under her hand, you're touching the bulge from Minju's cock.

"Tell me if it's too much."

You give her just a weak smile — something close to it. You can still breathe at half capacity, and she's gorgeous enough for her dick to earn a place inside you. Her hand trembles on top of yours, and you know she's reveling in this as much as you are.

She reaches for the polaroid camera sitting beside you on her bed, eventually. Her dexterity is to be admired — her hardness in your throat, one hand on your neck, the other hand holding a camera. She messes with the device a bit before lifting it up high. You're both going into this photo.

"This should work," Minju says, not moving her hips by a single bit. Her cock is still putting your throat to work here. She looks away from you — aesthetic reasons — and you see a flash coming from the camera.

The device cries softly as it prints out the image. Minju drags herself out of your throat, letting you bask in the ridges and veins on her cock. Your spit falls down to the floor, and it's a goddamn mess down there. Her dick glistens against the coppery light from her bedside lamp. And with her beauty, they just complement each other perfectly.

"I'll put it here," Minju states, and she places the photo on the bedside table. "Don't forget to take it when you're leaving!"

"Sure," you respond weakly, hand still finding the missing bump in your throat subconsciously. "You should fuck me again now, though."

Minju giggles happily. "Do you want some fuckery with that as well?"

"What kind of fuckery?" and you tilt your head. It's a weird angle upside down, but you think she gets the sentiment.

Minju grins, and she slides the tip of her cock on your lips. You open your mouth. She's making a bulge inside you again in a heartbeat.

This time, however, it's a tad fancier.

You feel her shaft getting warmer. It feels like drinking a mushroom soup that has been out of the pot for a minute. At one point, you're afraid that she's going to set your throat ablaze with her cock, but the temperature stabilizes at a comfortable level for you.

"My friend taught me this in college. They just told me how to do it with my fingers, but I also messed around with it a bit."

You only see her balls glowing in a yellowish shade, but you figure that the entire organ is probably shining. Your hand hovers over your neck, and there's some light glowing out of you.

"I think it's visually sexy," Minju says sultrily. "Seeing my fat cock doing wonders to your throat."

You hum back as a response, trying to make it sound like you're satisfied with the act.

"Thanks," and Minju giggles. "Elves just don't have that much power for magic. This is probably the best I could do."

You pick up the camera beside you and hand it to her. There's a desire to see how your throat is faring with Minju nestling and glowing inside it. To be captured in a piece of film invokes something within you, it seems.

"One, two, three!"

The device cries softly again as it prints the image out slowly. Minju stashes it along with the first photo, and the proper fucking in your throat resumes.

Minju slides her cock in and out of your mouth, and you're helplessly drooling all over her floor. You shudder every time she hilts inside you, yet you don't attempt a single thigh squeeze to halt her rough movements. She moans and grunts above you almost ferociously. There's a flash in your mind of her deep voice being attractive.

Your hand feels your own throat getting bulged repeatedly in a punishing fashion. The light is still there, and you're pretty sure that Minju is feasting at the sight of her luminous hardness stretching you open. You're going to have the remnant in your cabinet soon as well.

"Your fangs grazing my cock, God — such an anatomy hazard."

Minju keeps her pace consistent, using your throat to drive herself towards the precipice. Her cock throbs and pulses inside you violently, so eager to feed you her sperm. She places a hand on your throat along with yours, finding the heat scorching under your skin.

You feel a spurt of liquid inside you, finally, accompanied by a guttural groan from Minju. She gushes cum down your esophagus carelessly, and you don't even get to taste her on your tongue. It's a forceful feeding — one you're too happy to decline. Her whole body thrashes against your lips, and she twitches countless times before coming down from the unbelievable high.

Minju breathes exhaustedly as her cock softens in your mouth, turning back into a flaccid state. You lap the remnants of her semen leaking from her slit. It's a small sample, but you give feedback regardless.

"Yum."

Minju chuckles above you while pulling herself out of your orifice. She kneels in front of you, and she's just that pretty even when you're upside down.

"It's just pineapples," Minju whispers.

"I don't think it's a seasonal fruit."

"You want more? Are we doing this again?" and Minju laughs, fondling your cheek tenderly.

"I know I'm drunk as fuck," and a feeble cough, "but definitely, maybe."

—

"I can't go home when the sun's up," you whine, shifting in Minju's bed under the blanket. "I'll disintegrate."

"You wanna be dicked down again, I see," and Minju giggles under her blanket as well. Her ears are twitching slightly. "I don't have blood in the fridge for you, though. Didn't expect to fuck a vampire at my place."

"I could just order it," you breeze. "And thanks for letting me stay and, well, that."

Minju smiles warmly. "You're welcome. I still wonder one thing, though."

"What is it?"

“Oh, it’s that café that’s been trending online,” you say, typing the name into your phone.

“Have you been there?” Hyewon asks, leaning back into her seat.

“No. I’ve just been seeing it around lately. Heard it’s nice with a rooftop view.”

“Ah, I see,” she murmurs as you shift the car into drive and pull onto the road, the low hum of the engine settling into the silence. You catch a glance in the rearview mirror, brief and accidental, your eyes meeting before either of you can help it, and just as quickly, both of you look away. The silence lingers a second too long, and as if to break it, she speaks again. “Is this a company SUV?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Does this car have some kind of reinforcement, like bulletproof panels and all that? Or is that just in movies?”

You let out a small chuckle and turn the corner. “We do have some. This one just has reinforced windows and darker tint.”

“Oh, I see.” Hyewon nods, glancing around the car before looking back out the window as buildings pass. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve dealt with as a bodyguard?”

You take a moment to think while she waits. “Probably the number of fights but they’re more like scuffles. They end quickly. After a while, it all starts to feel kind of meaningless.”

She laughs softly, her gaze drifting to your arm resting on the steering wheel. “You’ve got some humor in you.”

It wasn’t really a joke, but you let it pass, a quiet breath of a laugh leaving you anyway. “Thank you.”

“Also… isn’t the weather nice today?”

“It is,” you say, easing off the gas as the light turns red in front of you.

——

At the shop, it isn’t crowded, just a handful of college students hunched over laptops. As you approach the kiosk with Hyewon, she starts ordering quietly while your attention drifts, scanning the room, each table, each face, anyone who might look twice, anyone who might recognize her.

“Is that Hyewon?” the worker at the register whispers to a coworker. You catch it anyway. A few people in line glance over.

“People are starting to notice you, Hyewon,” you whisper to her. “Are you in the mood to greet fans?”

“Of course,” she smiles, swiping through the screen without hesitation.

“May you remind me of the safe words I gave you?” you ask. “Standard procedure.”

“Where’s my manager?” she replies, glancing at you with a teasing smile.

“Okay, just checking.”

For now, at least, people keep their distance, the way they usually do on a slow Tuesday.

“Do you want anything?” she asks, turning to you.

You shake your head. “No, thank you.”

“Are you sure? You should get something. The desserts here look really good.”

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

She glances at you, a little more insistent this time. “I know you’re working, but at least get something. An Americano or whatever. It’s my treat. I don't want to feel bad."

You hesitate for a second, then give in. “Alright. A small Americano. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She taps it in and pulls out her card.

Before she can pay, you step in a little closer, just enough to block the view of any clear angle from the cameras around. It’s instinct, automatic. She notices how you did it quietly without a word.

“What a bodyguard,” Hyewon thinks, a small, private smile lingering as the order goes through. The receipt prints with a soft whir, and she tears it off, glancing at the number. “Twenty-six.”

She steps aside to wait, and you fall in just behind her, close enough without crowding. The room settles again, low voices, the clink of cups. Then someone stands. You notice it immediately. A girl approaches, stopping a few feet away, careful, almost hesitant. You take her in without staring, quick and automatic. College student, maybe. Glasses, beige jacket, nothing out of place. No tension in her shoulders, no rush in her steps.

“Hi… can I take a quick picture with you, Hyewon?” she asks.

Hyewon glances back at you, just for a second after you give her a small nod.

The girl smiles and steps closer, the moment passing easily, a phone lifted, a quick picture taken, nothing more.

“Number twenty-six!”

Hyewon thanks the fan before stepping away, heading to the counter to pick up the tray.

“Want me to carry that?” you ask.

“No, it’s okay. I’ve got it.”

“Alright.”

You follow a step behind as she heads up the stairs, your attention split between her and the space ahead. The rooftop door swings open, and the air changes immediately, cooler, easier to breathe. You take a quick look around before she reaches a corner table and sets the tray down. You take the seat beside her without thinking and turn towards the door.

She pauses, then glances at you. “I think you’re supposed to face the other way.”

“I don’t sit with my back to a door.”

“Oh.” It comes out quieter this time from Hyewon. She doesn’t say anything else, just settles into her seat, a small pause lingering as she takes that in. From the outside, you know how it looks. A little out of place or funny, maybe even rigid. On any other day, it might feel unnecessary. But not today.

“Here’s your Americano, Oppa,” she murmurs, hoping what she just called you flew over your head. Which it did, surprisingly, out of everything.

“Thank you,” you say and reach for your coffee from her hand.

“I’m guessing you’re counting how many people are up here.”

“Yeah. Ten people. This place will likely get busy in two hours since people will be on break.”

You’re not even looking at her, your attention is set somewhere past her shoulder, on the door, the edges of the rooftop, anywhere but her. Still, you can feel it, the way her gaze lingers a second too long, studying you without trying to hide it.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Turning to her, your eyes meet each other, “No.”

“Liar,” she giggles, covering her mouth, though the curiosity doesn’t leave her expression. She tears off a small piece of her strawberry muffin, bringing it to her lips as she watches you.

You take a sip of your coffee, letting the moment stretch just enough. “What makes you think I’m lying?”

She hums softly, chewing, taking her time before answering. “Hmm… maybe I’ll take that back.” She swallows, brushing a crumb from her thumb. A small smile forms as she tilts her head slightly. “Then what kind of woman are you into?”

You glance away for a brief second, like the answer isn’t something you keep ready. “Someone who knows how to be kind,” you say. “Not nice all the time. Just kind.” You pause, almost reconsidering whether to add more, then do anyway. “But it usually falls apart if she has a pretty smile.”

“Ah,” Hyewon leans in just a touch, her smile widening, not shy anymore but teasingly. “So you’re a sucker for a pretty smile?” She holds it there a second longer than necessary, like she knows exactly what she’s doing, like she wants you to notice.

You hesitate, enough to give it away without hiding any thoughts. “Yeah. You could say that.”

She lets the smile linger for a second, then looks down at her muffin like nothing happened. The moment shifts, quiet but not the same anymore.

“That’s cute,” Hyewon says. You glance at her as she takes another bite, brushing a few crumbs from her lips without thinking. She looks out over the rooftop for a moment, and you let your gaze linger a second too long before looking away, lifting your coffee to your lips. “Do you… usually talk this much?” she asks, turning back to you. “We didn’t talk much earlier. When I was shopping.”

“Your manager isn’t here to keep you company.”

“Then… am I talking too much?” she asks with a shy laugh.

You shake your head. “No. You’re fine.”

“Oppa,” she murmurs.

You catch it a second later, but don’t react much and only think that she’s just getting comfortable with you, “Hmm?”

“Want a taste?” she asks, holding out her muffin.

“No, but thanks for offering.”

“Are you sure? I have an extra fork.”

You shake your head again, lifting your coffee. “I’m sure.”

“Hmm, okay,” Hyewon says, drawing the muffin back towards herself. She takes another bite, slow, like she isn’t in any rush, and when your eyes meet again, she holds it for a second longer than before, a faint smile still there before she finally looks away.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. Just timing. Two people looking in the same direction at the same second. But your body doesn’t buy it. It lingers a second too long, reads into it more than it should. Hyewon doesn’t look away. Her smile stays instead of passing through. You try to shrink it into coincidence, something easy to ignore, but you’re already paying closer attention than you should be. You’ve noticed the signs before, and you’re trying not to let this turn into something you’ll actually act on.

Hyewon’s not smiling at you just because. She’s flirting with you.

——

After the coffee shop, you walk with Hyewon into her apartment building. She presses the elevator button and glances down at the shopping bags in your hands. “I’m surprised you’re not asking why I spent so much today,” she says.

“I don’t bother to,” you reply, a faint smile touching your lips.

The elevator opens and you gesture her in first. She steps inside, close enough for you to catch the faint trace of her perfume as you follow in. She presses her floor and the doors close. The air shifts, quieter and closer. Hyewon looks down and adjusts her grip on her phone while you keep your gaze forward, both of your reflections blurred together in the polished metal doors.

There’s something sitting beneath it. Something neither of you has said out loud. You don’t follow it too far. Still, the thought lingers longer than it should. You notice it anyway. The way she doesn’t quite relax. The way the silence doesn’t feel empty. Her eyes have been saying enough all day.

“Oppa,” she murmurs, softer this time as she looks up at you.

“Yes?”

She hesitates, and you can see it before she speaks. “I know your job is done once I’m inside, but… would you like to stay for a bit?”

You’re thinking as she glances at you, then looks forward before the elevator comes to a complete stop and opens. There’s hesitation in your thoughts, because for whatever reason, everything seemed to align too well.

“I can stay for a bit,” you say with a quiet chuckle.

She steps out when the doors open, and you follow behind. Your thoughts don’t settle between her and yourself, questions you don’t quite let form. Your gaze drifts at her for a second, lower than it should, before you catch it and pull it back up on how her hair sways with each step. Hyewon stops at her door and keys in the code. The lock clicks. She glances at you over her shoulder, a small smile waiting there as the door opens. “Come in.”

You pause for half a second, then step forward.

Neither of you says anything more. You don’t need to.

“Uh, sorry, it’s a bit messy,” she says shyly as you step inside.

“It doesn’t look messy at all,” you assure her while slipping your shoes off beside hers.

“Come sit,” Hyewon murmurs before quickly moving towards the living room, straightening a few things that honestly didn’t need fixing. You follow after her and sit at the end of the couch, quietly taking in the unfamiliar space around you.

“Seems cozy,” you comment.

She turns around at that and suddenly remembers the shopping bags still hanging from your hands. A shy laugh slips out as she brushes her hair back and reaches for them. “Thank you. I’ll put these in my room. Be right back.”

The apartment grows strangely quiet once she disappears into her bedroom. You hear the soft rustle of bags being set down before she comes back out a moment later and sits near you, not too close, but not far either. Your eyes meet for a brief second before both of you look away like it never happened.

“Can I hang my coat somewhere?” you ask, standing as you slip off your trench coat.

“Oh, here.” She gets up quickly and takes it from your hands. “I’ll hang it for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says softly. Her fingers brush against yours for only a moment before she walks to the closet by the front door. You glance over without meaning to, watching her hang the coat up before she casually pulls her sweater over her head, leaving only the light blue shirt underneath.

The room feels quieter after that. Not uncomfortable. Just aware of what’s happening. Your intuition is already pulling at you. Every glance lingers just enough to say what neither of you wants to say first.

When Hyewon walks back over, she brushes her hair behind her ear again before sitting beside you, closer this time. Not enough to touch, but close enough that you notice the warmth of her beside you. You catch the nervous habit immediately and decide to ease some of it before she disappears too far into her own thoughts.

“Light blue looks good on you, Hyewon,” you say with a gentle smile.

“Oh.” A soft laugh slips out of her as she looks down for a second. “Thanks.” Her eyes drift over you before she adds, quieter this time, “Your shoulders look broader without the coat.”

You let out a faint chuckle, “Is it that noticeable?”

The second the words leave her mouth, she looks like she wants to take them back. Or maybe not take them back, just hide the fact she noticed in the first place. “Uh… a little.”

Hyewon’s blushing, and you took notice. The way she avoids your eyes for a second too long. And somehow that feels more intimate than if she had looked at you directly.

“May I see your hands?” you ask softly, turning towards her.

You already know you’re crossing into something dangerous. Maybe she knows it too, but it hangs there between you anyway, heavy in the silence. Hyewon hesitates for only a second before lifting her legs onto the couch and turning fully towards you. She offers her hands shyly, slowly, like she’s giving away more than she should. You take them gently, your fingers wrapping around her wrists as your thumbs brush against her skin. Her pulse gives itself away almost immediately beneath your touch. Slowly, you guide her hands upward until they rest against your shoulders. Her fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, hesitant at first, then holding on a little tighter.

She gulps in the quiet space between you. Her cheeks flush a deep rosy red that spreads all the way to her ears no matter how hard she tries to hide it. Hyewon tries to keep herself composed, but she can already feel the butterflies in her stomach fluttering out of control.

Then your eyes meet. Your gaze drops briefly to her pretty lips before returning to her eyes, holding it there. The air begins to feel extremely intimate. You want to take off her clothes, make her vulnerable to the point where you’ll assure her that being in your arms is the only place to be in the moment.

Her pulse is rising, and neither can she take her eyes off of you or even say a word. So you slowly lean in and close your eyes. Your hand makes its way to her thighs, and before a kiss happens, Hyewon closes her eyes too, lips parting softly as she waits for you to close the distance, but you suddenly stop. Just enough for her to feel it. Just enough for the warmth of your breath to linger against her skin without giving her the kiss she was expecting.

“May I?” you whisper softly, stopping just short of her lips as the faint scent of her perfume lingers

There’s no verbal answer. Hyewon answers by leaning in slowly instead with her breath trembling softly against your lips before they finally meet. The kiss is careful at first, almost hesitant, like neither of you fully wants to acknowledge how long this moment has been building. But restraint slips quickly. Her hand tightens against your shoulder as she kisses you deeper, and you feel yourself give in just as easily. The warmth of her pulls you closer. Every quiet breath, every shaky little pause between kisses draws you further into her, until thinking about where the line was supposed to be no longer feels possible.

You gently guide Hyewon back against the couch without breaking the kiss. She follows you willingly, fingers tightening against your shirt before one hand slips higher to cradle the side of your face like she needs something steady to hold onto. Her legs parted on instinct as she feels you getting hard between her. A soft moan leaves her when you finally pull away just enough to let her breathe. Her chest rises unevenly as she looks up at you quietly.

“You’re good at kissing,” you compliment her and take a quick gulp.

“Did you forget? I’m an actress,” Hyewon shyly chuckles and rubs her thumb on your cheeks.

Maybe you did, or maybe, you’re not thinking straight anymore by how quick the kiss turned into something you weren’t ready for.

You want more of her, greedily.

“I think you’re better than me,” she adds on, biting her lower lip. Hyewon reaches in between the two of you and unbuttons your plain, whir flannel from the top, hesitantly stopping halfway to your exposed chest. You can see the hesitation in her eyes as she looks up at you. “Do you have um… a condom?”

“I don’t,” you reply.

Hyewon hesitates, because again, this whole thing was an unplanned mess.

"Do you want to come over to my place?" you ask, giving her the option. In her mind, she doesn't want to, not because she's unsure, but because you've already gotten this far. And you won't give her a second to ask you to run to the nearest pharmacy. "Or I can go grab one quick, if that's okay."

Hyewon smiles at how thoughtful you are. She looks down and starts unbuttoning your flannel, then meets your eyes again. Those damn eyes of hers pull you in deeper the longer you stare. She's not even naked yet, and her gaze alone is enough to drag you into an infinite void. Her fingers slip beneath your collar and slowly pull the shirt off your shoulders. "I'll give you a chance."

“What chance?” you ask.

She presses her lips before speaking. “We can do it without one.”

“Are you sure?”

She lets out a soft chuckle, her palms slowly exploring your chest. Her lips press together as you watch her nervously swallow. "Yeah… I'm okay with it."

You get a good look at her eyes from above, close enough to catch every small shift in them, the sincerity, the dare, the way she's not even trying to hide either.

“Just promise to not cum in me,” she whispers. Her hands are still on your chest, legs almost locking you in. She’s been staring at you like it’s love at first sight. But love isn’t there, it’s lust that brought you two to this couch, in her own home.

Hyewon’s hands slip back under your flannel and press more insistently against your skin. Feeling her growing impatient, you sit up from her, quickly take the shirt off, and drape it over the couch. Before you can settle again, her hands are already reaching for your pants.

“I won’t. Are you taking any prescriptions?” you ask, and she cautiously gets a feel of your length through the fabric of your pants.

She nods, “Yeah.”

That’s all you needed to know. You respect her boundaries.

So you chuckle to just clear the littlest, tense air in the room, “Why are you so shy to unzip my pants?”

She chuckles along, “I don’t know.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Yeah, a little,” she admits.

Without a word, you grab her wrist and guide her hand to your zipper. Hyewon understands the assignment as she slowly unzips your pants. You stare at her, admiring such a beauty, yet so hungry from the look in her eyes. Once she lets go, you get off the couch and offer your hand. Hyewon takes it and stands up beside you.

“May I?” you ask, reaching her waist to take off her shirt.

“Yeah,” she whispers shyly.

So you slowly pull her shirt up, your fingers brushing against her warm skin as her torso is gradually revealed. The soft white bra comes into view, hugging her gently before you fully take the shirt off. Her breathing deepens as you toss it on top of yours on the couch.

You take the lead without waiting any longer, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of her pants as Hyewon curiously watches, slowly sliding them down her thighs and letting them drop to the floor. She can feel the subtle romance in the moment, the way your hands move with such gentle care, the focused attention you give her.

But neither of you are mistaken. This isn't love, even if the feelings are close enough to be misunderstood. Looking at each other, you guide her hands to your pants. She pulls them down and lets them drop to the floor. Now only your boxers and her bra and panties remain. You're setting the tone, slow and steady, and Hyewon is falling into it too.

"Hyewon," you whisper, gently taking her hand as you sit back on the couch. You pull her closer, clearly wanting her on top. She spreads her legs and slowly lowering herself onto your lap.

"He's so sweet," she thinks to herself, watching you reach for her nape and pull her face closer to yours, meeting each other's lips with eyes closed. You love how soft her lips are, how you can feel her back arching and her chest pressing into yours. You hold the side of her face, wanting more, taking in the sounds of your lips against each other's. There's desperation in every kiss.

You deepen the kiss, your tongue gently parting her lips as she lets out a soft, needy whimper. Hyewon's breath hitches every time your thumb brushes her cheekbone. She presses even closer, hips slowly grinding against you, shamelessly rubbing her panties along the thick, hard length of your cock straining through your boxers.

Pulling back just enough to breathe, you rest your forehead against hers, eyes still closed, savoring the shared moment. Her lashes flutter open slowly, revealing her gleaming eyes full of emotion and desire. A shy smile tugs at her lips. She can't say anything, only letting out a soft chuckle and grabbing hold of your shoulders. You move your hands lower, onto her back, her hips, the strap of her bra, anywhere to give her body some attention.

You brush your cheek against hers and trail your lips slowly down the elegant line of her neck. Hyewon turns her head to the side with a soft sigh, giving you full access as her pulse flutters wildly beneath your mouth. Your kisses are light at first, then firmer, sucking gently on the sensitive spot just below her ear. She lets out a quiet, breathy moan as one of her hands slides up to your nape and holds you there.

While your lips keep her distracted with slow, teasing kisses on her neck, your hands slide up her back until your fingers find the hook of her bra and gently undo it, letting it hang loose on her shoulders.

Hyewon pulls back from the kiss with a shy smile and slowly slides off your lap, standing between your legs as she takes off her bra, giving you a perfect view of her tits. She bends her knees, hooks her fingers into your boxers, and tugs them steadily down your hips and thighs until your hard cock springs free. After quickly tossing your boxers to the side, she climbs right back onto your lap. Reaching between your bodies, Hyewon gently wraps her hand around your cock, staring down with a smile as it throbs instantly.

You just can't take in how gorgeous she is with that smile, almost damn near naked in front of you.

She pushes her panties aside with one hand and leans forward while guiding the tip of your cock to her slick entrance with the other. After all the teasing, she finally sinks down onto you. A soft tremor passes between the two of you as your cock stretching her folds.

She bites her lower lip, briefly pausing to take a breath. Your cock throbs halfway inside her walls as a soft moan escapes Hyewon's lips. The two of you share a gaze and she grabs hold of your shoulders for balance, slowly sinking down further with a gasp until your cock fully disappears inside her. It's overwhelming her as she stays still, trying to adjust to how big you are and how her pussy is being stretched. With some effort, she slowly begins to grind on you.

"So big," she shyly murmurs, curling into you, letting out soft cries and whimpers, anything that easily slips from her lips.

"I'll be gentle," you whisper as your fingers slip beneath her panties and get a feel of the tenderness of her ass.

This is Hyewon fighting against herself. This was just the start as she gets used to your cock inside her. But you can't take in how tightly her pussy grips you, how slick she was after all that kissing, so dangerous that you'd love to cum inside her if she dared you to.

As she begins grinding harder, you hear the clear and beautiful moans she makes. You lay back against the couch and take deep breaths. She gently places her hands on your chest and continues to grind slowly, back and forth, in circles. You try to catch your breath and tilt your head back, although it feels endlessly impossible when she's this tight.

"Hyewon," you softly moan, blindly grabbing her hands on your chest, holding her there with no intention of letting go.

She can feel your heart beating beneath her palm, resting flat against your chest. It's the most raw and genuine thing as she gazes down at you. Her own chest rises and falls in shallow rhythms, syncing with yours. The window blinds in her living room are down, tilted just enough for thin lines of light to slip through.

She feels strangely exposed and vulnerable in her own home, like anyone outside could see what's going on behind those blinds. But the feeling of you inside her, this rush of warmth and adrenaline, makes Hyewon melt into you, her body trembling softly as she savors the deep, intimate fullness only you can give her.

Everything feels surreal. The way your hands gripped her wrist, desperate, like you never wanted to leave her. She pauses to catch a breath and gently guides your hands up to her tits.

“It feels good just sitting on it,” she embarrassingly confesses and feels you gently squeezing her tits.

“Yeah?” you gasp. “Show me your bedroom.”

“It’s even more messy there,” she giggles, which you can definitely feel it from being inside her.

“We can make it messier,” you tease Hyewon, gently flicking her hard nipples.

“What?” she utters, holding in a laugh and grinds on your cock to keep it as hard as possible inside her.

“Should we try on your dining table?” you murmur, teasing her again, but it’s more like you’re daring Hyewon.

She brushes her hair before deciding to get off of your cock and take off her panties, then giving you her hand. “Let’s go.”

Okay, you didn’t expect that, but you’ll take her hand as she walks you to the dining table.

Before making any decisions near the table, she leans forward and kisses you again, pulling you into a deep, hungry makeout as she reaches down to stroke your cock. You can't say a damn thing, only match her hungry lips, until Hyewon's other hand reaches back for the table and she leans against it, gently pulling you with her. She tiptoes and sits on the edge, never breaking the kiss for even a second, until she glances down and guides the tip of your cock back inside her.

She grips your shoulders tightly as you slowly push into her again. You hold her leg while your other hand braces behind her on the tabletop. Hot breath fans across your neck, a moan spilling from both of you as she takes you deeper than she ever did on the couch. Her eyes lift to meet yours, half-lidded and hazy with pleasure, struggling to stay open. Quiet whimpers escape her with every thrust. The dark strands of her hair cling to her cheeks.

Her walls flutter and squeeze around your cock with every slow, deep thrust. She’s neither telling you to slow down or be rougher, simply lost in the steady rhythm as her body rocks gently against yours. Soft, needy sounds slip from her parted lips with each thrust, her half-lidded eyes staying locked on yours in a hazy, intimate gaze.

“Oppa,” she moans out desperately as her toes curl. You slow the pace and let the two of you catch a breath, eyes still locked in the quiet moment. You reach up and gently brush the strand of hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear.

This subtle gesture changes something in her, more than you realize.

Her eyes soften with a new kind of warmth, the raw desire quietly deepening into something more tender. A slow, involuntary flutter runs through her walls, her body reacting before her mind can catch up. Hyewon gulps and you feel her hands find your face, pulling you in as your lips meet again.

You continue thrusting gently back and forth inside her. She pours everything into you: her heart in this fleeting moment, her body, even her sanity, all completely yours. Each roll of her hips meets yours with quiet desperation, tongue sliding against yours while her slick walls cling tightly around your cock as if Hyewon’s suggestion of you pulling out wasn’t the plan anymore.

You guide her back until she's lying flat on the table, your body hovering over hers, close enough to feel every breath she takes as your hips thrust forward, deeper and harder, one thrust after another, each one pulling a sound out of her. A desperate groan spills out, drawn out and helpless for a few seconds she can barely hang onto, until Hyewon grabs hold of your shoulders and gives you a gentle push. In an instant, you slow down, hearing how heavy her breaths have become.

Maybe it was a little too much for her.

You lean back and give her a moment, lifting her legs together to kiss her ankles and calves while slowly driving into her. She cups her own tits, whimpering with her eyes closed.

Hyewon can't bear how good your lips feel brushing against her legs, each kiss sending her heart fluttering. She can feel the depth of your passion in every touch, aching for you to fill her, to let go inside her. Yet she's torn between desire and restraint.

Her whole body suddenly stiffens, every muscle locking up as you keep pushing through. You realize it only now— she's cumming. Her slick walls clamp down around your cock in strong, pulsing waves. A raw, broken cry tears from her throat, half-sob, half-scream, her voice shaking apart. Breathless whimpers spill out uncontrollably as Hyewon arches and spreads her arms back to grip the edges of the table while her body continues to squirm around.

Your cock throbs as you hold yourself together, slowing to a few last deep strokes until she stops cumming and lets out an exhausted breath. You pull out just in time, your cock throbbing in your hand as her legs slowly part, ready to cum all over her.

She looks at you, then down at your cock while her breaths catch. Hyewon's trying to make a decision she hates to go back on. It's tormenting her the more she wants to stick to what was said.

A wave of shyness washes over her, seeing how shamelessly her legs are spread for you. She only met you today, yet it felt like you're someone she's known for years, someone she could trust. The guilt begins to linger, especially when Hyewon felt like she was the reason the two of you ended up here like this. You see her pondering, but you have no clue what's really going on in her head.

“Should I just let him?” she thinks to herself, looking right at you leaning over her, lowering yourself to give her tits a gentle kiss. Her breaths are still freshly heavy after cumming. You knew there was something Hyewon’s embarrassed about. She feels your warm kisses on her body while your cock drags against her crotch.

“Let’s go to your bed,” you murmur, gently grabbing her hand and getting up together. You smile at her after seeing how self conscious she was after cumming. “Take me to your room.”

She gives in completely, her lips curving into a soft, unconscious smile as yours proves impossible to resist. The difference in your hand sizes matters more than it needs to as she doesn't let go. Hyewon leads you toward her room, but just before you reach the door, you catch her wrist and gently press her back against the wall.

Your body follows, pinning Hyewon there with hunger. You kiss her deeply, slowly, savoring the warmth of her mouth as your hands glide over her curves, tracing her waist, and thumb brushing her hips. A quiet sigh escapes Hyewon. She melts into you, sliding her arms around your shoulders, fingers digging into your hair as she pulls you closer.

Hyewon hates herself for this. For letting you flutter her heart so effortlessly. For melting under the raw, undivided passion you pour into her. Most of all, she hates how convincingly you fuck her—like you genuinely want her, like she’s the only thing that matters. She knows this isn’t love. Deep down, she understands that, but you deserve far more than what she asked of you.

The wet tip of your cock brushes against her stomach while you keep her from talking. She’s not impatient or complaining. If anything, a quiet thrill runs through her.

You slide your hands down to the back of her thighs and gently lift her. Hyewon wraps her legs around your waist with a soft, surprised gasp, her arms tightening around your neck as you carry her into the bedroom. You lower Hyewon onto the bed with care and your body follows hers down until she’s cradled beneath you with her hair spilling across the sheets. Your lips trail along her jaw and neck as you settle between her thighs, savoring the warmth of her skin and the way her fingers tremble slightly while threading through your hair in silent surrender.

Hyewon breaks into a light chuckle as she feels your lips trailing down to her tits that left tingling feelings. “You’re so romantic.”

You smile, taking in the compliment. “Can you turn around and lay flat?” you ask, getting up from her to give Hyewon some space as she does what you asked.

A flush of embarrassment warms her cheeks as she presses her lips together, watching you grab one of the pillows and gently slide it beneath her hips. The soft lift arches her back beautifully, raising her ass towards you.

Gently kneeling over Hyewon, you slowly brush your cock between her folds, sending a jolt throughout her body as you insert your cock gently back inside. She feels half your weight pinning down her lower body and lets out a soft moan.

Greed is getting to her. The mental image of you cumming deep inside her makes Hyewon feel as it should be right to. Your cock is throbbing like you’re begging her to just give you the word. From above, you hear her soft moans, seeing her small hands gripping the bedsheets from the corner of your eyes, mouth parting and clenching each time you thrust deeper. Her eyes keep fluttering open and closing shut like taking your length is the only thing she wants.

“Cum in me. Just say it,” she thinks to herself.

The greed is winning as you gasp, stopping deep inside of her, trying to hold back from cumming. You gently lower yourself and kiss her shoulders. Hyewon can feel how hard your cock is throbbing in her, yet you’re trying to go on for another few minutes.

“Cum,” she forcibly whispers. “Just cum in me,” she lets out an exhausted breath.

You heard her, but you don't answer until after kissing the side of her neck, exhaustedly pulling back just to take in the sight of her gorgeous body laid out on the bed, panting. "You sure?"

“I’ll let you,” she utters, feeling how deep you are inside of her as you adjust your knees from sinking further into her bed.

You savor Hyewon for a few more seconds, your cock lodged deep inside her. You love how she feels, warm and slick, yet unforgivingly tight, as you gently rest a hand on her ass. Before you cum, you want to use every last second to touch her, to yearn for her body one final time before cumming. She's smiling, you catch it from the corner of your eye. You know she wants this kind of attention, to be touched, to have someone who wanted the same as her. Hyewon closes her eyes as the comfort of her bed and the weight of you on top cradle her.

You know she's exhausted after all of this, the couch, the dining table, the bedroom, all those kisses. Hyewon doesn't move an inch, savoring the way you fucked her into exhaustion.

Slowly pushing yourself to continue, you gently pull out until only the tip remains, then drive back in as your cock throbs and Hyewon lets out a louder whimper. Then once more, throbbing harder, pulling back out before sinking in slower as a quiet grunt escapes you. She knows by now how long you've been holding back.

"Hyewon," you softly murmur, panting harder as your cock begins to throb violently inside her. You let out a desperate grunt, planting both hands firmly on the bed beside her head. Your legs stiffen, hips pressing hard against her ass as you hold yourself there, unable to pull back even an inch. Your forehead drops to the back of Hyewon’s neck, lips brushing her skin as her name barely makes it out of your mouth a second time while you’re cumming in her. It feels like you're impregnating her with everything you have, and right now that doesn't feel wrong at all.

She shuts her eyes tight from how deep and hard you're cumming inside her. Hyewon lets out a quiet gasp that quickly dissolves into long, erotic moans. Your breath hitches sharply in your throat, turning into a deep groan. Hyewon loves that, the raw, broken, desperate tone of your voice when you're cumming hard inside her. It makes her clench tighter around you as if she's trying to pull even more out of you.

Your hips twitch and jerk uncontrollably, grinding forward instinctively to push your load even deeper. Another low, strained groan escapes you, the kind she craves that’s rough and helpless, completely lost in the pleasure of emptying yourself into her. Until the final pulse fades, you’re left utterly drained and chest heaving above her back. You stay inside Hyewon for a long moment and brush her hair aside, going in for a kiss along her shoulder and the nape of her neck.

“You okay?” you whisper hoarsely, voice still thick with pleasure and affection. She hums weakly in response, eyes still closed, a small, satisfied smile on her lips. You carefully lift your weight off her, just enough for your cock to slip out and get the last few drops of left over cum onto her ass. You stare at her again, from her pretty face, to her shoulders, down her gorgeous back, and to her ass that your cock is in between. “Stay still,” you force yourself to say and get off the bed.

Hyewon sees you quickly leaving the room to get something to wipe off the cum left over on her ass. In those quiet moments alone, her heart flutters even more. A warm feeling spreads through her chest as she lays still, face half-buried in the pillow, body still tingling. The way you immediately went to take care of her without hesitation, without needing to be asked makes her feel cherished. She bites her lip softly, a small, content smile forming as she listens for your returning footsteps.

Returning to the room with a warm, damp paper towel in hand, you climb back onto the bed carefully so you don’t startle her. Hyewon stays lying on her stomach and breathes softly into the pillow.

Gently, almost reverently, you press the warm towel against her skin. You start by wiping the streaks of cum that’s on her ass, cleaning her smooth cheeks with slow strokes. Then you move lower, softly parting her thighs just enough to wipe the cum dripping from her pussy. You take your time by being extra gentle as you clean every trace of your cum from her. Hyewon’s relaxed under your touch, melting deeper into the mattress, clearly enjoying the soft, caring way you’re taking care of her.

“Thank you,” she quietly murmurs to you, then saying it again in her head. Once you finish wiping her off, you quickly clean yourself and throw it in the trash bin beside her dresser before returning into the bed. You turn Hyewon over and get in between her legs, kissing her stomach, up to her tits, and until your lips find hers. It was the cherry on top that she couldn’t ask for.

You’re both overly satisfied. It’s just that you both can’t afford to stop kissing, and maybe, that’s where mistakes could happen if she stays longer in your arms. She grabs onto both your biceps with gentle pressure to feel your flexed muscles holding yourself up.

Hyewon knew your name since the beginning of today, but never has she said it until now as she quietly whispers your name once you trail your lips down to her neck. You fail to even continue kissing and only look at her. Maybe she did moan your name at some point but you didn’t catch it at all.

“Hmm?” you murmur.

“Nothing,” she shyly chuckles, staring at you, getting all shy and presses her lips.

You slowly get up and off the bed as you give out your hand to pull her up without a word. She instantly takes your hand and gets off the bed to stand in front of you.

“Is he going to kiss me again? Can he go a little longer?” she thinks to herself, meeting each other’s eyes again. Even if Hyewon’s exhausted, if that’s what you were going for, she’ll meet your lips with equal need. If you weren’t, then she’ll take it as is.

“I’ll go bring our clothes,” you tell her.

She smiles, “Okay.”

While you walk out the room, she opens her closet to put on a comfortable set of clothes. The sun is still up. It’s almost two in the afternoon as you take out your phone from your pants to check the time and see two missed calls before putting your clothes back on. You felt like time went unexpectedly slow today.

Walking back to Hyewon with her clothes in your hand, the timing was spot on as you both almost bump into each other at the door.

“Sorry,” you both say and chuckle.

“Bathroom?” you quickly ask.

“Yeah,” she shyly whispers.

You turn to the side to give her space to leave the bedroom. “Where can I put your clothes?”

“Oh, just set it on the bed. I’ll take care of it,” she replies as you gesture her to walk out first.

Hyewon steps out as you walk back in her room and she turns around, “Um, do you have to go somewhere after this?”

“I do, but I’m not in a rush.”

“I don’t want you to be late,” she says.

You collect your thoughts, not wanting to say the obvious of staying beside her for a little longer after having sex. You don’t want Hyewon to feel any kind of guilt on herself.

So you chuckle, wanting to tease her as you clear your throat. “You want me to stay, don’t you?”

“Yeah—no, no, I- I just don’t want to waste your time,” she embarrassingly chuckles after the slight panic.

The hard truth is, you should leave and not stay longer than you should. You know this.

Because she did make your heart flutter the moment you two look at each other again. Her eyes meet yours with such soft vulnerability and warmth that it hits you straight in the chest. They’re glossy, sparkling with leftover pleasure and something deeper, maybe even a little shyness now after having sex. A faint, tired smile curves her lips as she gazes up at you once more.

“It’s um… okay if you need to be somewhere,” she breaks the silence.

You feel like shit, only because those miss calls are somewhat an important matter, but you still want to at least stay for a little longer and keep her company.

So you lean against the door frame and try to take the unsaid hints she’s trying to tell you. “Be honest with me,” you softly smile.

“It’s okay if you have to leave. I’m serious,” she chuckles.

You’re overthinking this, and it was right to do so. She’s letting you go, understanding that you have to be somewhere. But she’d love for you stay for a little longer if there was time.

“Go use the bathroom, I’ll be in the living room waiting,” you say.

She shyly chuckles, holding herself back from a smile that would be definitely embarrassing. “Okay.”

As you walk back to the living room and she’s in the bathroom, you sit on the couch, remembering how it all started here with a kiss, then she undid your shirt and both of you ended up at the dining table the next, until getting into her bed. You can still vividly feel her warm touch and hear the way she moans quietly in your arms. The look in her eyes were desperate enough that you wanted to be the man she decides to not hide anything to.

The moment Hyewon walks out, she can tell there’s something more intimate in the air as you look right at her walking to you. It’s when she understood that you two could have at least be someone to each other, but she thinks she’ll only do you harm.

“May—can I uh, walk you out my door?” she says, smiling, almost in a sad way.

You stand up and follow her as she walks you to the door and grabs your coat for you.

Life gives you two a few more seconds to linger as you both settle at the door before she opens. Hyewon can only look at you putting on your coat, remembering how warm and gentle you were, the kisses that grew her even more hungry. It almost feels heartbreaking, like a fragile, invisible thread was stretching out until it breaks in half once you step out.

Hyewon opens the door, hesitantly until it opens wide. “Thanks for um… spending time with me.”

You can tell from the look on her face. There’s no regret or anything against you, but the obvious look of, “I wish you could stay a little longer.”

So you give her a smile, “Thanks for having me.”

After you step out her home, the door closes and she stands there for a moment, her hand still resting on the handle. She looks back at the living room, eyes quietly scanning, hoping for something, anything left behind that could be an excuse to open the door again.

There’s nothing left.

The house turns quiet again as Hyewon slowly walks over to the kitchen to fill a cup with water.

"I should have asked if he was hungry," she murmurs to herself, staring at nothing in particular. "Did he even eat before seeing me?"

The thought catches her off guard with how much she means it. She sets the cup down and moves before she can talk herself out of it by back to the door and pulling it open just enough to lean out into the hallway.

You weren’t there.

Down the hall, the elevator doors slide shut. On the other side of them, you lean your back against the wall, hands in your coat pockets, eyes on the floor after pressing lobby. The hum of the elevator fills the silence around you.

Seoyeon saunters over to her then halts, sucking through her teeth and tilting her head. 

"What's wrong?" Nien asks, less stable than she intended. Seoyeon continues walking, though her steps are less spry and more calculated, eyeing Nien closely.

She sits silently, the corners of her mouth tugged up a bit. Nien swallows a loud gulp. "Alright, what's going on?" Seoyeon crosses her arms and turns her body.

Nien shrinks into herself, cold running down her back. "What's going—what do you mean?"

"Hello, Seoyeon?" Seoyeon chuckles in disbelief. "What happened to the 'hiya hiya, what's going on, Yoon Seoyeon!' bit you do?" She imitates Nien's tone as she quotes it.

"Oh my God, you know it word by word?" Nien grimaces, lowering her face. 

"Of course I do! You say it all the—hey, are you okay?"

Nien forces a chuckle. "O–Of course! I'm feel—feeling super today. Why'd you ask?" She tries to look Seoyeon in the eyes, fails after two seconds, looking away.

"Nien, you look...you don't sound okay. Is something up? Tell me." Seoyeon slides across the bench and reaches out for Nien's face, causing the latter to yelp and flinch.

"Oh my God! Are you sick? Does it hurt? You're sweating, Nien!" Seoyeon whines, reaching for Nien's arms this time. Nien doesn't flinch as badly, though she's lightly shivering now, breaths heavier.

"S–Seoyeon...I need—I got something to t–tell you," she murmurs, licking her lips as she does her best to look Seoyeon in the eyes.

"Mhm? What is it?" Seoyeon asks softly.

Nien takes a few deep breaths, blinking rapidly. "It's, um...I....there's—ugh, hold on, give me a minute, please?" She looks away again, fanning her cheeks.

"Of course. I'm right here, Nien. I'm not going anywhere."

"Mmm...why do you gotta sound so sweet!" Nien whines to herself.

"Huh? What was that?"

Nien doesn't answer, fanning her face harder. Her lips keep drying, she keeps licking them. "Alright. So, like, we've been...um, good–good pals for a while, yeah?"

Seoyeon raises a brow and lets out a single chuckle. "Girl, you're making me nervous—"

"Just listen!" Nien yells, covering her mouth right after, eyes wide. "I—I'm sorry, I wasn't...didn't mean to yell." Seoyeon let Nien's shoulder go in surprise, leaning back slightly. "It's...it's okay. I shouldn't have interrupted."

"No! Don't..." Nien raises both fists in the air, then drops them back to her lap. Another few breaths and she continues. "So...so. I didn't—don't remember when—since when. But...you...I—"

The words clog up in her throat, lips trembling, teeth clenched as a tense groan spills through in lieu of speech. Her head's thrown aside again, trying to bury itself in the crook of her shoulder.

Seoyeon watches with bated breath, her eyes darting all over Nien. Giving some moments to let the flow settle before asking, "You, I...what? Did...I do some—"

"Urgh! I like you! I Yeon Soo—I mean, Yoon Seoyeon! I like you! I like you a lot!" Nien utters breathlessly, fists clenched hard on her thighs. Her big round eyes are locked onto Seoyeon's, fearing she won't be able to anymore if she averts them even briefly.

Seoyeon stammers silently, eyes narrowing a smidge. "Nien..."

"Like, more than a friend! Way–way more! I like you so much it makes my chest hurt!" Nien's voice becomes less stable with every word. "Every time you...you feed me a bit of your food. Your smile and th–the little giggle you make after asking me to open a bottle. When—" 

She runs out of breath, the one she takes next sounding moist. "When you hold doors for me, fix my hair a bit even though—" Now she's starting to laugh, a wide, dumb grin unlike the one she forced on earlier. "Even though you didn't have to! Your smell, your presence—everything! It–it feels...different! I don't know how long, I just know it drives me crazy!"

Seoyeon's slightly open mouth shuts, curving downwards as she watches Nien panting. "Nien...is this—if this is a prank—"

"It's not! It's not a prank! Not a prank, I swe–ear..." Nien begins sobbing quietly. "I prepped the whole day for this! I like you so much..."

Seoyeon raises her arms tentatively, wrapping them around Nien and pulling her in. The moment she does, Nien breaks, crying into her shoulder.

She pats Nien on the back, her face burning hot and eyes getting glassy. Nien calms down after not very long, wiping her tears with haste, a pensive smile already adorning her face, 

"Nien..."

"I'm sorry! Just...I really wanna get it out right now. Felt like I'd literally explode if I don't," Nien chuckles, sniffling. "You don't...you don't have to answer right now." Her voice fades and speeds up towards the end, eyes down at her lap.

Seoyeon observes her for several moments, then smiles. It's not the dazzling summer sun that Nien's is, more like the cozy rays through the canopy of an autumn forest.

"Why would I do that?" she asks, almost too quiet for Nien to catch. "Hm?" the latter raises her head. "Why would I answer it later..." Seoyeon tucks a hair behind Nien's ear, making her breath hitch. " ...when you're right here, right now?"

Nien's mouth hangs open, eyes scanning Seoyeon's face. "Seoyeon..."

"I—phew, I don't think I've told you before, have I?" Seoyeon starts, tapping her fingers on the bench. "You know I got...a lotta people relying on me, yeah? Professors always appoint me to help manage their classes. Always the leader in group projects. Not to mention the club."

Nien nods silently. Seoyeon continues, "And so...a lot of the time, I gotta be upright. Reliable. The one who knows everything, even when I don't." She exhales through her nose, running her fingers through her hair. "It's a lot. Lots of pressure. And it bleeds into my daily life."

Seoyeon inches closer to Nien, eyes gazing deeply. "You help me...forget about them, even for just a bit. Reminds me that...that I don't have to be strong all the time. That not everything has to be perfect for them to work."

A sob, then another, then another from Nien. Each becoming less restrained. "Oh, Seoyeon..."

"Seriously. If not for your wacky ass segues to hang out at random hours of the day, I'd have missed a lot more meals!" Seoyeon scoffs, tickling Nien as well, the latter snickering between sobs. 

"Remember that one time? You said you wanted to try out that new Pho place at like...4 PM?"

Nien scoffs, biting her lip. "Wasn't even that good. Pricey as shit, too. Had the gall to call themselves 'authentic'? Bitch please!"

"Yeah! Did I ever tell you the...nonsense I just finished dealing with right before you texted?"

Nien shakes her head, pouting. "No, you didn't."

"I had—ugh!" Just the thought of it causes something to burble in her chest. "Some genius thought certain campus rules no longer applied to him. Because he wasn't a freshman anymore."

"No way," Nien chortles.

"Wasn't even the nuanced stuff, too. Things that are plain fucking obvious. Like how do you—" Seoyeon sighs, waving away the awful thought. "Anyways, you made me forget all that with your...passionate grovelling about the Pho. Learned some new Viet curses that day!" 

Both women laugh, reliving the memories and emotions of that late afternoon. 

"But um...yeah. When I'm with you, I feel...safe, without being strong. I can feel vulnerable, without—" A single tear rolls down Seoyeon's cheek, her voice also becoming wet. "—without feeling guilty."

Nien's cries get a bit quieter, but longer. "Stop! That's so...why are you so..." she trails off, covering her flushed face. Seoyeon snickers, then grits her teeth, preparing to continue.

"At some point, they did start feeling...different. All those little things you did for me. Being around you." Seoyeon rests her head on her fist, propped against the backrest. Nien follows suit, resting her temple entirely on the backrest, slightly hunched due to her greater height.

"Different...how?" Nien whispers.

Seoyeon ponders for a few, her tears speeding up. "Like–like I...wanted you."

Nien lets out a long squeal, then breaks down crying again, covering her face and shaking. "You did not just say t–that..."

"I wanted—I didn't want us to be just...I want—" Seoyeon groans, Nien's animated, genuine reactions making it harder for her to continue. "Everything! Everything..." she sobs. "When I see pretty things, I wanna show them to you. When things are hard, I want—you, your person. Like...you don't have to—" Seoyeon breaks down properly now, though her cries are silent.

Nien whines and slides over in a split second, closing the distance and hugging her tight. "Seoyeon...don't cry! You're making—" She sniffles and shakes her head, resting her chin on Seoyeon's shoulder. "No. Cry. Cry all you want, Seoyeon. I'm–I'm right here."

Seoyeon hiccups and keens a few times before she's able to go on. "You don't...don't need to do anything, Nien. I just want you near me, to know you're there with me, for me. Whatev—" She coughs. "Whatever it is. Is–is that okay?"

Nien nods fervently, having the unintended effect of hammering on Seoyeon's shoulder. "Ow, ow!" Seoyeon moans, half-chuckling half-sobbing.

Nien gasps and pulls away, massaging the spot. "Sorry! I was...sorry!" she grimaces, pouting at herself. Seoyeon grins, a smile curving her eyes all the way up. "You are so damn adorable, Nien."

Nien's lips curl inwards, then up as she shakes side-to-side, kicking her feet. Her face somehow gets redder than it already was, all the way to her ears.  Seoyeon giggles and settles, fanning and wiping her soaked cheeks. They stay like that for a bit, listening to the park and feeling the buzz of a different energy in the air between them.

"So...does all that mean..." Nien looks at Seoyeon expectantly, hands clasped tight. " ...you, like me back?"

Seoyeon clicks her lips a few times, then nods; oscillating her neck's full range of motion. "Mhm!"

"Can you say it?"

"I...like you, Hsu Nien Tzu. I like you a lot. More than—oh!" Nien squeals and launches herself at Seoyeon, capturing the smaller woman with a tight, crushing hug. Seoyeon's unable to hug back, arms pinned to her sides.

"Nien! You're—ah! Really—strong! Girl, ease up!" Seoyeon huffs. Nien loosens her arms, laughing. "Sorry, you are really...so small and huggable! Hehe!' Seoyeon scoffs and scoots over to rest her temple on Nien's shoulder. "Ah, this is nice. Too nice. I want this every day and night now," she murmurs.

"We can do that!" Nien chirps. Seoyeon sighs, dragging her head to look up at her. "I really wish we could."

Nien looks down at Seoyeon. Something catches in their throat as their faces' proximity to each other is viscous and apparent. Eyes dart between each other and their lips. Without thinking, Nien leans in closer, her warm breaths—

"Oh, oh! Whoa!" Seoyeon scoots away as her brain unpauses. Nien gasps and slides away also, though not as far as Seoyeon did.

"Were you...was that...trying to–to kiss me?" Seoyeon asks, her heart beating faster than the most daunting public appearances could make it.

Nien quietly stammers something, then straightens up. "I—yeah, no—I mean, yeah! Yes! I–I was! Why not?" She puts on a determined face, nostrils wide, jaws clenched. It lasts all of three seconds before it melts again, her mouth loosening to a small frown. "Can I?"

Seoyeon wets her lips and gulps, sliding towards Nien. Nien stays in place, her face tilting down to line up with Seoyeon's. 

Seoyeon raises her small hand, settling it on Nien's nape. "Do it," she whispers. 

Nien exhales through her mouth, gingerly leaning in. She closes her eyes, so does Seoyeon. Hovers closer and closer, they can feel the heat from each other's cheeks now, little breaths tickling. The sunlight through their eyelids dim as their faces block it out. Only centimeters now, she—

"Oop." Their noses bump into each other, sending both women snickering, almost barrelling into something uncontrollable that'll cancel this whole deal.

"Okay, okay. I–I'll go this way? You stay...yeah, yeah," Nien mumbles. Seoyeon chuckles, her eyes fluttering. "Do whatever you need, Nien. I'm yours."

Nien's hearstrings pang with an echo within her chest. She closes her eyes and tries again, tilting her head to the side this time, enough to clear their noses. When her lips land, she nearly moans. 

Seoyeon's lips are soft and small. It tastes of her lipstick, along with a trace of coffee. For over thirty seconds, that's all they do. Lips pressed against each other, not a word or breath uttered between them.

They separate to catch their breaths. Nien opens her eyes first, a longing gaze beaming onto Seoyeon's as hers flutters open. "Seoyeon..." Nien palms her cheek, caressing it and sliding down to her chin. "You are so beautiful."

Before Seoyeon can think up anything, Nien goes back in, hesitation gone. She gets more adventurous, putting Seoyeon's top lip between hers, sliding her bottom lip back and forth with her tongue. 

Nien unlatches briefly, switching to Seoyeon's bottom lip, doing the same. A breathy sound escapes Seoyeon, her hand pulling Nien deeper. Nien wraps her arm around Seoyeon's back, letting out long hums.

The humdrum of the campus park fades away, noon sunlight replaced with a hazy glow in their heads. They keep going until their lungs are ringing alarm bells, head light from more than euphoria.

Their lips smack loose, both women panting. Their eyes exchange looks of wonder and excitement, along with a hint of anxiety. "How...how did you do that?" Seoyeon croaks.

"I...looked it up. Just...you know. Kinda...curious," Nien whispers. 

"Of course you did." Seoyeon takes the reins this time, clutching Nien's shoulders. She isn't as composed as Nien; more impulsive, less methodical. Her mouth stretches around Nien's like she's trying to devour her whole, teeth clicking, tongue jutting around like it's mapping her.

Nien welcomes her all the same, easing back onto the bench to give her more leverage. The added pressure elicits a whimper from Nien, which spurs Seoyeon on. She'd have climbed into Nien's lap right then and there if Nien didn't frantically tap on her back, reminding her of where they are.

"W–Wow, Seoyeon." Nien gasps. "You...you're really eager."

"Is that a bad thing?" Seoyeon wheezes.

Nien's unable to hold back a toothy smile, shaking her head. "No. But...not here."

Seoyeon laughs, flustered. "Not here? What...what did you think I was gonna do?"

"S–Shut up! You know what it is."

Seoyeon doesn't confirm nor deny it, resting her head against Nien's, fingers poking at her biceps. "So...are we—ow! Official? What was that for?" Nien protests as Seoyeon bites her shoulder. The latter snickers, nursing the spot with her fingers. "Mhm. We are."

"Tsch. You hungry or something?"

"Also mhm. Didn't eat breakfast."

"Yoon Seoyeon!" Nien grumbles, gently pushing Seoyeon off her shoulder. "We're getting lunch. Right now. I'm paying. Curry sound good?"

Seoyeon's lips stretch to a thin, shy smile, cheeks blushing red. "Sounds good." Nien can’t help but chuckle, brushing away strands of hair stuck to Seoyeon’s damp forehead. “I think you gotta clean up first though. Your makeup—” Nien bursts out laughing and falls backwards on the bench.

Seoyeon’s face drops in horror, feeling her cheeks with her fingers. “Is it…bad?”

“It’s ruined!”

“God damn it.” Nien continues cackling, pointing at her face. “You knew you’d be bawling so you barely put on any, didn’t you?” Seoyeon asks.

“Uh-huh.”

Seoyeon hits her playfully, playing drums on her thigh while growling. Once she calms down, Nien gets an idea. “Well, since it’s already ruined…” She slides right next to Seoyeon. 

Seoyeon internally braces herself for more tomfoolery, arms ready to deploy. “What? What about it?” Nien’s eyes glance between different places to throw her off, seemingly settling on her belly. The real attack is on her cheek, smooching it hard enough to leave a mark. “Ahh! Nien! Really!” Seoyeon rubs the spot, observing the red smudge on her fingers.

“Whoa–hey! Wait, I haven’t packed my stuff yet!”

Nien cackled and did a U-turn, flunking me towards my desk. “Better be quick or I’m gonna eat you instead, sugarpie!”

“Got it. Give me a minu—sugarpie?” 

“Mhm. You asked me out so sweetly and you got a big round head, so…sugarpie!” she snickers, drawing a circle in the air with both hands. I chuckle in amazement, nodding. “I guess that’s me.”

“Hurry up!”

“Okay!”

***

Hands. I held Nien’s throughout and after she cried from nervousness and anxiety a few days before our wedding.

“Why’d you say yes?”

“Hm?” she mumbled, curled up on my chest. 

I gently wiped away some of her dried tears. “Why did you say yes to, well…my proposal? Just…curious.”

Her mouth tugged side-to-side in thought before blooming into a small, warm smile. “You feel…hmm…peaceful.”

“Peaceful? Me?” I laughed.

Nien nodded. “You…I feel…I know I don’t have to be afraid of anything beside you. Even when I do bad things. You don’t hesitate to set me straight, without any judgement.” Her hand rose to caress my cheek, then poked at it softly. “I can be anything, everything, or nothing. When you’re beside me, my heart is at peace.”

Hatiku damai, jiwaku tentram di sampingmu.

I could feel my heart thumping harder, Nien likely could as well by how she was grinning. My cheeks bloomed warm as I cupped hers, leaning down for a kiss. “I’m gonna marry you again, I swear.”

“We haven’t even married once, you silly!” she giggled into my lips.

“Don’t care. I love you that much.” 

Nien kissed me this time. “I love you too, sugarpie.”

***

Hands. Nien held mine as she nursed them after I opened a suspicious package that was meant for her, which turned out to be a small firebomb.

“Those assholes,” she huffed, her eyes blazing. “Using these old ass scare tactics—what do they think this is, 1960?”

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, sorry!” She blew on my burnt hand softly. 

“It’s okay, honey. It wasn’t your fau—”

“No, it’s not okay!” she snarled, her jaws trembling before she started sobbing. “Those…fucking Vulpes thugs would rather do this shit than actually admit their atrocities. Think they’re above everyone else.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with her elbow.

“Well, I’m one journalist they won’t silence. I wasn’t gonna stop, but now they hurt my sugarpie? I’m gonna skin them alive. I’m gonna be even louder.”

“Honey, isn’t that…dangerous?” 

“That’s exactly what they want,” she gritted. “Want me to be scared. Fuck that.” She gets back to treating my burns. “You believe in me, don’t you?”

I sighed. “I’m still a bit concerned…but, I do. All the way. Fuck them up, hon—ow!” I tried to raise a fist. Nien whined, slapping my back. “What are you doing? You’re still hurt!”

“Yeah, forgot,” I snickered. “You’re really hot when you’re mad, by the way.”

Nien couldn’t help but laugh, slapping me softer and pulling in to peck my lips. “You silly, beautiful man.”

“Takes one to know one.”

***

Hands. I was jumping in place to surprise Nien and hold hers as her train pulled onto the platform. As I looked around for her among the disembarking passengers, I heard a woman scream.

“HELP!”

I didn’t think twice before running to the car it came from. “What’s going on?” I asked a passenger crowding around something. 

“I think someone’s hurt, I’m not sure.”

I pushed past the crowd, and my heart dropped. Nien was on the floor, half conscious, her lower torso stained deep red. Her head rested on the lap of a woman quietly sobbing, her hands also stained as it pressed on Nien’s stomach. “What…what–what happened? I–I’m her husband, please tell me!”

“I don’t know!” she cried, shaking her head. “She was standing next to me, and there was…like this, this group that came in and bumped into us.” She sniffled and swallowed. “Then they got off here, and then…and then she just collapsed!”

“Oh my God…honey. Nien, honey! Can you hear me?” I held her cheek and turned her face towards me. “Did—did you call an ambulance yet?”

“I did…told the driver to–to stop the train, too.”

“Did you, um…here, let me.” I took over putting pressure on Nien’s wound. “You remember anyone from that…the ones who bumped into you?”

The woman bawled, shaking her head. “No! I’m sorry sir, I didn’t—it was…I’m sorry!”

I nodded and leaned closer to Nien. “Nien, honey. Hey, I’m here. Can you hear me?”

She stirred weakly, her voice airy and thin. “Sugarpie?”

“Yeah, me! Sugarpie!” Tears started falling. “Help is on the way, so stay awake for me, okay? I won’t go anywhere, I promise. Just stay with me, please.”

Nien’s lips curved into a frail smile, her bloody hand floating up to my cheek. “Sugarpie…”

“Mhm, what is it, hon?”

She didn’t answer, only opening her eyes a bit wider to look at me. Her smile grew just a bit, then started to wilt away as her breath slowed. 

“Honey? Hey! Don’t—stay with me! Don’t you dare! Stay with me, Hsu Nien Tzu! Don’t—” I choked. “Don’t leave me alone…please…”

 Her featherlight breaths slowed down more, then stopped completely. The light behind her glossy brown eyes dwindled, then faded into emptiness. 

“No, no! Nien! Honey! Wake up!” My hand moved from her wound to catch her hand sliding away from my cheek. I gripped it harder than ever, sobbing profusely. “Wake up, please…”

What she became for Sullyoon was comfort, laughter and a guiding hand. What she is now is, well, we’ll get to that.

It’s the hope that really did it. From the first day they met, crossing paths outside a practice room, where Sullyoon bent the full ninety to be met by Sana’s little dip of her head, partnered with her bright smile and greeting, that had her heartstrings tangled. They spoke in brief, barely an introduction, but it was enough.

Then they had her sit in, and Sullyoon danced until her feet grew sore, and Sana grinned and gave her a thumbs up, and in those brief moments, Sullyoon could never regret her career choice. When it was over, somewhere between Sana's muted appreciation and Sullyoon's gushing gratitude, Sana made an offer. Practice together, the two of them.

Sullyoon agreed, of course. She agreed to everything.

The warnings, the advice, the rumours. So what if a younger girl liked an older girl? So what if Sana was her senior? Sullyoon was - is - windswept.

So when the idea of coffee before practice came at Sana's suggestion, Sullyoon was up an hour earlier than usual. She had her hair in rollers, and she sat at her vanity. She tapped the brush across her skin and dotted the concealer. She took her time with everything. From curling her eyelashes to applying her lipstick, it was wholly methodical. She wanted to look good, but that was a given. It was more than that; she wanted to look like Sana's type.

She picked a simple outfit, skin-tight jeans, a cropped camisole and a light cardigan. It wasn’t the first choice, nor was it the second. In fact, it was around the fourth swap that Sullyoon looked at herself in the mirror and began to judge the woman staring back. It’s coffee. Just little beans ground down and brewed into a drink to start the day before practice. Practice that would inevitably require a change of clothes anyway, so why did this matter so much? 

Sana - that’s why.

The coffee date (could Sullyoon call it that?) passed by all too quickly, but it opened the metaphorical door. No longer did they only talk about dancing and comebacks and vocal tones and aegyo and… - yeah, you get the picture - but they talked about each other. Favourite snacks, drinks, and places to visit. Sana would appease everything Sullyoon threw out.

That park that Sullyoon loved to visit? They met there the following Monday and walked around for a little while.

The movie that Sullyoon loved? Well, Sana didn’t watch it, but she read the reviews and pretended that she had.

The games that Sullyoon loved to play? Sana bought a switch. Yep, a switch, just to play with Sullyoon.

And look, Sana had absolutely no idea what she was doing. She followed Sullyoon around - once she finally understood the controls - and did everything she said she should do. By the end of the first day, Sana had a hole in the ground, and Sullyoon had a house. They didn’t get a lot of time outside of schedules, but they would play when they could. Sana’s hole in the ground got a little bit nicer as Sullyoon decorated it and built around it to keep it safe.

In the lamp-light-clashing-moonlight glow of her room, Sullyoon pondered it all. Sana took her where she wanted to go, bought her the things she wanted to own, read her favourite books and watched her favourite movies. Sana bought a switch just for her. All these gestures paled in comparison to the little things she noticed.

Like how Sana would accidentally brush her hand and then smile as if nothing happened, how she would make these little jokes that share just a little bit too much detail about her sex life, and how she would constantly invite Sullyoon over to spend the night.

Empty pizza boxes accompanied empty bottles. Flirty jokes accompanied Sullyoon falling head-over-heels. She was falling - faster and harder than anything had ever fallen. Barrelling towards a reality that had begun to form in her head, Sullyoon pictured the future. It would be tough, keeping the secret, but they could do it, Sullyoon was sure. 

Sana had experience; Sullyoon would come to learn. Her relationships with her many friends in the industry, from Momo to Miyeon and everyone in between. Not that Sullyoon was jealous, no, not openly. That only reared its head on those nights alone in her room, pondering possibilities.

Then came the day everything changed. The casual-flirty jokes became not-so-casual-flirty jokes, and all of Sullyoon’s favourite things became tools of the evening. Her favourite snacks, drinks, movies, everything - all at once. The longing looks became long looks. Sana flicked a switch, and Sullyoon crumbled. Putty in her hands.

They slept together that night. Sana had all these things she liked to do, and Sullyoon had a body she wanted to do them all too. The kisses never seemed to end, from chaste to an outright dissolution of decorum. The touches trailed to the ends of Sullyoon’s world - all this caressing and grabbing and tugging and fuck -

Yeah, it was perfect. Sullyoon wept after it all. An emotional cooking pot boiled over in the post-coital serenity - in Sana’s arms. She confessed it all to her in that raw state: how she fell in love with her before she ever even met her. How the feelings only became cemented upon seeing that smile in real life, and how every single domino that fell following that had led her to this precipice.

And on that precipice, she stood. She stood still for a long time. 

Sullyoon would load up her Minecraft world from time to time, build a little more around that hole, waiting for her to come back. She drank more coffee, wandered around the parks, and practised harder than ever before. Sana would show up again and invite her over. Food. Drinks. Great sex. Precipice. Waiting. Hope.

Sana’s phone would flash with Miyeon’s picture, or someone else’s, all the time. Things would go quiet. No dates. No movies. No feelings. Then she would return to do it all over again.

For Sana, it is a loop, and for Sullyoon, it is a spiral. 

Soft skin. Slim fingers. Cool against your temples. You reach up, thumb brushing across her knuckles. Small hands. Smooth skin. Expensive perfume. "Gotta be the janitor," you say. "Pretty sure we're moving way too fast, though."

The hands pull back immediately. Then a tiny offended noise. Footsteps around the table.

"Ha. Ha. You're sooo funny, nerd. I like you already.”

Enami Asa steps into your line of sight and every coherent thought you had about thermodynamic equilibrium just evaporates. She's wearing all black. Cropped top, short skirt, boots that go halfway up her calves. Red lipstick that makes ignoring her full lips completely impossible. Her black hair falls straight past her shoulders and she's looking at you with this amused little tilt of her head.

You blink hard and rub your eyes. Enami Asa: one of the most beautiful girls on campus. Right there, in the dead zone of the university library. Staring at you. What the fuck is happening?

"You know you're insanely hard to find, right?" she says, placing her backpack on the table before dropping into the chair across from you. She crosses her legs and leans back, eyes drifting over the dusty shelves. "Do you always hide out back here? I literally did two full laps around the building.”

"I was studying," you say, closing your laptop halfway. "Can I help you with something?"

She grins. Not in a nice way.

And you're not dumb. You get it. You've spent enough time here to understand how the whole social hierarchy thing works. Girls like Asa don't go looking for guys like you in some forgotten library corner unless they want something. Notes. Homework help. A study guide. Some favor they can cash in with a cute smile and forget about a few hours later.

"You can, actually," she says. "In fact, you might be the only person who can help me right now."

"That's a bold statement."

"I'm a bold girl," she says, adjusting in her seat until she's comfortable. Then she casually drops, like this is the most normal topic ever, "So there's this challenge going around on Twitter."

"X."

"Eat shit, it's literally the same app." She waves you off. "Anyway. It's trending right now. Me and my friends got into it too. Sort of a competition, I guess. NSFW stuff.”

Your pen stops moving.

"Oh…"

"Yeah." Now she's fully studying your face, looking way too entertained by the horror slowly spreading across it. "The idea's simple. You record yourself getting facefucked, upload it, get some likes, drive more people to your OF. Then gooners start ranking clips and arguing in the comments over which one's best. It's become this whole thing. Hashtags and all.”

You look left. You look right. You check behind you to make sure nobody has a camera pointed at this table. "Are you serious right now?" you ask.

"Of course I'm serious," she says, sounding almost offended. "Why the hell would I walk all the way to the ass end of this library and say that kind of shit to a guy like you if I wasn't serious?"

"I genuinely don't know. It's just... a pretty strange request."

"Don't be scared. Be flattered."

"I am neither of those things." You lean back in your chair. "Look, there are like ten thousand guys at this school. You literally have a different one on your arm every week. Go ask one of them."

Asa shakes her head. Just one slow motion. "Nah. Can't do that. We set a rule that every one of us has to find a different guy for the video." She leans back a little. "Has to be a nerd. Someone who'd normally have zero chance with any of us. That's the whole trend."

You stare at her for a few long seconds. "Damn, Asa. Really appreciate you putting me in the 'absolutely no shot' category.”

She laughs, loud enough that it echoes through the shelves and instantly makes you paranoid someone nearby heard the conversation. "Don't take it like that. Seriously. It's not even an insult. Think of it as charity." Her head tilts slightly. "Besides..." Her eyes narrow a little as she looks at you. "You've actually got something going on. Nerd glasses, messy hair… It's kinda cute."

"Amazing. Please engrave that on my grave."

"Stop being so dramatic."

"No. That's my final answer," you say immediately. "Find another victim.”

Asa gets to her feet. Then she does something that completely fries your remaining brain cells. She circles the table at an annoyingly calm pace and sits right in your lap. Just... casually. Her arm drapes over your shoulder while she gives you this ridiculous pout.

"Pleeease?" she says, all soft and sweet. "It'll take like five minutes. Nobody comes back here anyway. You've been hiding in this corner for hours and not one person walked past." She adjusts herself slightly. “I just need you to lend your cock and hold the phone. That's it."

You blink at her. "I can't believe this trend actually exists."

"Oh, it exists.” She already has her phone out. She pulls it from her skirt pocket and drops back onto your lap, scrolling lazily. “See? Hashtag RuinThePrettyFace. It blew up like four days ago.”

She holds the phone inches from your face. One clip after another. Smudged eyeliner. Sloppy expressions. Girls posing for the camera after getting absolutely wrecked. Your eyebrows climb higher with every swipe. Then she opens her own profile. Asa’s account is basically curated nude photography. Soft lighting. artsy filters. Careful angles. Nude after nude after nude.

“Hold on. This is your account?”

“My NSFW alt, yeah.” She shrugs. “Got twelve thousand followers. So?”

"No. Never.”

"Why not?"

"Because I have dignity. And you should try having some too. What you're describing is slutty."

She pulls back just enough to look you dead in the eyes. Zero shame. Zero hesitation. "But I am a slut," she says simply. "So that argument doesn't really work on me. Please," she repeats. "I'll do anything."

"Anything?”

"Anything." A pause. Then she laughs, catching herself. "Well. I can't exactly offer you sex as a reward because that's basically what's already going to happen. So that's off the table as a bargaining chip." She taps her chin, pretending to think. "Buuut you'll have my gratitude. My eternal, undying gratitude!”

"And what the fuck am I supposed to do with your gratitude?"

"I don't know, maybe shove it up your ass and stop playing hard to get?!" She hops off your lap and does a little spin in the aisle between shelves, arms out, letting you look. She stops facing you, one hand on her hip. "Look at me," she demands. "I'm hot. I'm perfect. Any guy on this campus would sell a kidney to be sitting where you're sitting right now. And you're telling me no? Be so fucking for real, dude.”

You rub your temples. "You're actually insane."

"Maybe. But I'm also not leaving until you say yes. I'll sit here all night. I'll follow you to your car. I'll show up at your next class. I will make this so much worse for you if you keep being difficult."

"That's called harassment."

"Call campus security then. Tell them Enami Asa won't stop asking you to let her suck your dick. See how much sympathy you get."

You let out a long breath through your nose. She's got you cornered and she knows it. You can see it all over her pretty face already, that smug little grin spreading because she's realized she's winning.

"Fuck me..." you mutter.

"Is that a yes?!"

You close your laptop with a soft click. Pinch the bridge of your nose beneath your glasses. Then you look up at her. At the ridiculously gorgeous girl standing between rows of dusty shelves in that little black outfit, red lips, and absolutely zero sense of shame. You make a decision that's either going to haunt you forever or randomly hit you at age eighty and make you smile. "Fine. Make it quick.”

Asa actually lights up. She bounces on her heels and claps once before she can stop herself. "Yes! Okay! Perfect!" She grins at you. "You seriously won't regret this.”

"I already regret this." She starts to lower herself to her knees right there, but you raise a hand and she freezes. "Wait," you say. "Can we at least make out a little first? Just to, you know… set the mood. I can't just go from thermodynamics to getting my dick sucked with no transition."

She stares at you for a second before rolling her eyes so hard it's honestly impressive.

"Oh my god." A sigh. "Fine. Sure. Whatever you need."

She comes back and sits on your lap again, this time facing you fully, her knees on either side of your thighs in the library chair. Your hands find her waist on pure instinct, settling on the strip of bare skin between her top and her skirt. She's warm. Unbelievably warm.

"You're unfairly hot, by the way. I'm having a hard time believing this is a real situation right now."

"I know," she says immediately, completely shameless. Her hands slide onto your shoulders. "Now enough with the compliments. Kiss me.”

You kiss her. It starts slow because you're still half convinced this is an elaborate prank and someone's going to jump out from behind the reference section with a camera. But Asa's lips are soft and she tastes like mint and whatever that expensive lipstick is made of, and your brain stops looking for the trap pretty quickly. Your hands settle on her waist, thumbs pressing into the narrow strip of bare skin above her skirt. She's tiny under your palms. You can almost feel her ribs.

She's good at this. Obviously she's good at this. Her tongue finds yours and she tilts her head just right, and there's this little sound that comes out of her, this quiet, pleased hum against your mouth that makes your fingers tighten on her waist without you meaning to. She shifts on your lap, pressing closer, and her hands slide from your shoulders to the back of your neck.

You're getting into it. Really getting into it. Your hand starts to drift up her side and she makes another sound, breathier this time, and you can feel the vibration of it through her whole body. Then she turns her head, breaking the kiss, and her palm lands flat on your chest. "Okay, okay. Enough."

"What?"

"I said enough." She wipes the corner of her mouth with her pinky finger, checking for smudges. "You're going to ruin my lipstick before we even start. My makeup needs to get destroyed on camera, not during the warm up."

"You have very specific priorities."

"I have excellent priorities." She rolls her hips once on your lap, settling her weight, and then goes completely still. You watch her expression shift. Her eyes drop down between your bodies, then come back up to your face. "Well," she says, and there's something new in the way she's looking at you. "I think we can start."

She picks up her phone from the table, slides off your lap, and drops to her knees on the library carpet. She taps the screen a few times, opens the camera app, and holds the phone out to you. "Here. You're filming."

You take it. "Vertical or horizontal?"

“Of course it’s vertical. This is Twitter content, not cinema.”

You angle the phone. She reaches for your belt. Her fingers work the buckle loose, then the button, then the zipper, and she's efficient about it, tugging your jeans down your thighs with a little help from you lifting your hips. Your boxers are still on. The outline of you through the fabric is, well… it's pretty obvious.

Asa pauses. Her hands don't move, still resting at your waistband, but her eyes do. They settle on the bulge and stay there.

"Huh?'' she mutters.

Then she pulls your boxers down. Your cock springs free and bobs once, heavy and thick, settling against your lower stomach. The shaft is fat, veiny, flushed. In the dim lighting of the library corner, it looks even bigger than usual, and Asa is just kneeling there, looking at it, her hands frozen in midair. "Wow," she says quietly. Then, louder, like she's trying to convince herself as much as you. "Okay. This might be harder than I imagined."

You look down at her. "You can always give up."

Her head snaps up. The shock on her face converts instantly to pure, offended determination. "Excuse me? You think I'm afraid of a big cock? Are you seriously sitting there telling Enami Asa to give up?"

"I'm just saying."

"Don't underestimate me." She wraps her fingers around the base and the tips barely meet her thumb. She stares at that for a second, jaw flexing, then shakes it off. "Okay. Here's how this works. I'm going to suck your dick first. Get it nice and wet, do my thing. Then when I tap your thigh twice, like this," she demonstrates, two quick pats on your leg, "that's your signal. That means you can start fucking my face. Got it?" You nod. "Use one hand for the phone, one hand on the back of my head. And keep the angle tight on my face. This isn't about you, this is about me looking good."

"And then looking bad."

"And then looking incredible while looking bad." She adjusts her position on her knees, straightens her back, flips her hair over one shoulder. "You can start recording."

You hit the red button. The timer starts counting in the corner of the screen.

The shift is immediate. Asa was already pretty, already the kind of person who pulled attention without trying, but the second the camera goes live, something changes. Something clicks into place. Her posture straightens slightly. Her chin lifts. A slow smile pulls at her lips. Suddenly she isn't looking at you anymore. She's looking at the lens. Looking at the people on the other side of it. The ones who'll watch this alone in bed at some stupid hour of the night.

And just like that, she's performing.

She leans forward and presses her lips to the tip of your cock. Just a kiss. The red lipstick leaves a faint mark on your skin and she pulls back to admire it, still smiling at the camera. Then her tongue comes out, flat and pink, and she drags it across the head in one slow pass. Another kiss, this time on the underside, right where the shaft meets the ridge. She's teasing. Taking her time. Making sure the camera catches every angle of her pretty face against your thick cock.

She licks a long stripe from the base to the tip, her dark eyes locked on the lens the entire time. Then another. Then she swirls her tongue around the head, slow and wet, collecting the precum that's already beading at the slit. She holds it on her tongue for a beat, letting the camera see it, then swallows and licks her lips clean.

She opens her mouth and takes you in. The feeling is insane. Her mouth is hot and tight and her tongue does this thing where it presses flat against the underside of your shaft as she sinks down, creating this slick pressure that makes your toes curl in your shoes. She takes about half of you on the first pass, which given the girth is genuinely impressive, and her cheeks hollow as she pulls back up.

And she looks so fucking beautiful doing it. Enami Asa, on her knees on the library floor, with her black outfit and her red lipstick and her sharp little face stuffed full of your cock. The visual is so absurd, so completely disconnected from everything your life has been up to this point, that you almost forget to keep the phone steady.

She sucks you with purpose. Bobbing her head in a steady rhythm, taking a little more each time, letting the spit build up until it's coating your shaft in a slick layer. She pulls off with a wet sound and spits on your cock, a thick string that drips down the length, and then her fist wraps around you and pumps, spreading it, twisting at the head. She jacks you off with both hands for a few strokes, watching the way your cock throbs in her grip, and then she's back on it, hungrier this time.

You can feel her jaw stretching around you. Can see the effort in the way her brow furrows slightly, the way her throat works as she tries to accommodate the width. But she doesn't stop. Doesn't slow down. She finds her rhythm and sticks with it, her head moving in smooth, controlled bobs, her lips sealed tight, her tongue working the underside.

She pulls off just long enough to glance up at you. Not at the camera this time. At you.

"You better be getting my good side," she murmurs, her fist still pumping slowly.

"You're kind of busy to be giving direction."

"I'm always giving direction." She licks the tip once more, then sinks back down.

A minute passes. The wet sounds of her mouth on you fill the quiet corner of the library, obscenely loud in the silence. Spit drips from her chin onto her black top. Her lipstick is starting to smear, red bleeding past the edges of her lips, staining your shaft in uneven rings.

Then you feel it. Two quick taps on your thigh. She takes you back into her mouth, both hands dropping to rest on your knees, and tilts her head up so the camera can catch her full face. Her eyes are glassy. Her lips are swollen. She looks up at you through her lashes and gives the smallest nod.

You adjust the phone in your right hand, making sure the frame is tight on her face. Then your left hand slides to the back of her head, fingers threading through her dark hair, and you grip.

Your fingers tighten in her hair. You guide her head forward, slow, feeling the resistance of her throat as your cock pushes deeper than she was taking it on her own. Asa's hands grip your knees and her jaw stretches wide, lips pulling taut around your girth. She gags once, a tight spasm at the back of her throat, and you pull her back. She gasps, spit connecting her lower lip to your shaft in a thin strand, and before she can fully recover you push her down again.

The rhythm is careful at first. You're testing how much she can handle, reading the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers flex against your legs. Each push goes a little deeper. Each pull gives her just enough time to suck in a quick breath before you feed her your cock again. The wet sounds are filthy in the silence of the library. Every gag, every slick glide of her lips echoes off the bookshelves.

Asa's brow creases. She's concentrating, trying to relax her throat, but the girth keeps catching her. You can feel it, the involuntary tightening each time the thickest part of your shaft hits the back of her mouth. Her eyes water. Not crying, just the reflexive response of her body fighting what her brain has decided it's going to do. She breathes hard through her nose, hot bursts against your pelvis, and pushes through.

You set a pace. Your hand guides her head in smooth bobs, your hips rolling up to meet her on the downstroke. Spit builds and spills from the corners of her mouth, running down her chin in messy lines. The red lipstick is wrecked now, smeared in wide streaks across her cheeks and along your shaft, leaving your cock painted in uneven bands of crimson. Her mascara holds for a while, longer than you'd expect, but the constant watering finally wins and dark smudges start bleeding beneath her lower lashes.

She pulls off your cock abruptly, gasping, a thick rope of saliva stretching from her lips to your head before snapping and landing on her chin. She coughs once, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing the lipstick further. Her eyes are glassy and red rimmed when she looks up at you.

"How is it," she asks between breaths. "How do I look?"

You angle the phone down at her, making sure the frame catches everything. The ruined lipstick, the mascara tracking down her cheeks, the spit glistening on her chin and neck, the way her usually perfect hair is sticking to the damp skin of her forehead.

"Beautiful," you say. "Completely ruined. You look incredible."

"Good," she says. "That's the point." She opens her mouth and takes you back in, and this time you don't start slow. Your grip tightens in her hair and you thrust up into her mouth with real intent, your hips snapping, the back of her throat meeting your cock on every stroke. Asa groans around you, the sound vibrating through your entire shaft, and her hands fly to your thighs for balance.

The pace is punishing now. Her head bobs in your grip, guided by your hand, and the sounds coming from her mouth are obscene. Wet, choked, guttural. Drool pours freely, coating your balls, dripping onto the carpet between her knees. Her black top is spotted with dark wet patches. She gags hard on a deep thrust and you hold her there for a second, your cock buried to the hilt, her nose pressed against your pelvis, feeling her throat convulse around you before you let her up.

She pulls back just far enough to breathe, her lips still brushing the head, and looks up at you with those ruined, watery eyes.

"Fuck," she pants. "This cock is so thick. I can barely fit it in my mouth." She jacks you with one hand, spit making the motion effortless, her small fingers unable to close around the circumference. "How does a little nerd end up with something like this? It's not fair."

"Genetics," you manage.

"Shut up." She licks a flat stripe up the underside, collecting the mess of spit and precum. "I'm serious, this thing is fat. My jaw is going to be sore for a week." She presses her lips to the head, almost affectionately, then opens wide and takes you deep again.

You fuck her face harder. The library is dead quiet except for the relentless, sloppy rhythm of your cock in her throat. Asa has given up trying to look composed. Her eyes are squeezed shut, tears cutting clean tracks through her smudged mascara. Her cheeks are flushed pink beneath the mess of ruined makeup. Spit and drool coat her entire chin, dripping in long strings onto her chest. She looks nothing like the sharp, immaculate girl who sat down across from you twenty minutes ago.

She looks better.

Your balls tighten. The pressure that's been building low in your stomach pulls into a hard knot and you feel the edge approaching fast. Asa must feel it too, the way your cock swells, the way your grip shifts in her hair, because her eyes open and lock onto yours. She doesn't pull back. She grabs your hip with one hand and pulls you deeper, taking your cock into her throat until her lips stretch around the base, and holds herself there.

You cum. The first shot fires directly into her throat and Asa's eyes go wide. You can see the muscles in her neck working, trying to swallow around the sudden flood. Your cock pulses again, a second thick load, then a third, each one making her throat bob as she struggles to keep up. It's a lot. More than she expected, clearly, because her eyes start to water fresh and you can hear this strained, gurgling sound as she tries to swallow without pulling off.

She manages. Barely. Her throat works overtime, gulping, swallowing, her fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to leave marks. Some of it escapes, a thick white trail leaking from the corner of her sealed lips, running down her chin, dripping onto her collarbone. She stays on you through the last few pulses, her throat milking every drop, until you finally stop throbbing and your grip in her hair loosens.

Asa pulls off slowly. Your cock slides from between her lips with a slick, heavy sound, and she sits back on her heels, breathing hard.

Her face is destroyed. The red lipstick exists only in faint, smeared traces across her cheeks and chin. Her mascara has bled into dark streaks that reach almost to her jawline. Her eyes are bloodshot, rimmed in red, lashes clumped together with moisture. Drool and cum coat her chin, her neck, the front of her top. Her hair is tangled and damp where your fingers gripped it.

She looks at the camera and smiles. This wide, satisfied, absolutely filthy smile, cum still glistening on her lower lip. She holds the look for a few seconds, letting the camera drink it in.

You stop recording. The timer reads eleven minutes and forty seven seconds. Your thumb hits the red button and the screen freezes on the last frame. Asa on her knees, wrecked, smiling. "How'd it turn out," she asks, her speech slightly hoarse. She reaches for the water bottle on the table and takes a long drink.

You scroll back through the footage, skimming. "Pretty good, actually. You have a genuine talent for this."

"I have a talent for most things." She holds her hand out. "Let me see." You pass her the phone and she watches sections of the clip, scrubbing through with her thumb, pausing on certain moments. Her expression is clinical now, analytical. She's reviewing footage, not reliving the experience.

"When are you posting it," you ask, pulling your boxers back up, getting your jeans situated.

"Probably tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. I still need to throw the video into Premiere and polish the edit a bit.”

"...You're editing blowjob footage in Premiere. Okay, sure. I don't know why I'm still surprised."

"Well yeah?" She looks at you like you're the weird one. "The lighting back here was awful. I need to fix the exposure, warm up the colors a little, cut out the dead space at the beginning..." She swipes through the footage. "Probably clean up the framing too. Blur anything that points back to you. Add captions… I'm not uploading raw footage. Be serious.”

You stare at her. "Is all that really necessary? It's a blowjob video, not a short film."

"It is absolutely necessary. You can't just upload raw footage like some amateur. Quality matters. Presentation matters. This is going on my page, and my page has an aesthetic."

She puts the phone down, reaches for her backpack on the table, and pulls out a small face towel and a compact mirror. She flips the mirror open and examines her reflection, tilting her head side to side, cataloguing the damage. Then she starts cleaning up, wiping the mascara streaks, the spit, the residue from her chin and neck.

"Thank you, by the way," she says, not looking up from the mirror. "Your dick is really nice. Genuinely. It looked great in the video. The size contrast between me and that thing is pretty hot."

"Thank you. I guess."

"You're welcome. I guess." She mimics your tone without missing a beat, still dabbing at her face. "You can leave now. I need to finish putting myself back together and I can't do that with you watching me."

You gather your laptop, your notes, your pens. Everything goes into your backpack. You zip it shut and stand up, pushing the chair back under the table. "Hey. One thing."

"What."

"Change my voice in the video. Pitch it up or down, whatever. Just alter it enough that nobody can identify me."

She waves dismissively. "Already planned on it. I'll run it through a filter. I'm a pro at this stuff." She meets your eyes in the mirror's reflection. "Now bye."

"Bye, Asa." You sling your backpack over your shoulder and walk out of the dead zone of the library, past the dusty reference shelves, back toward the main floor where normal people are doing normal things. The late afternoon sun hits you through the library's front windows as you push through the doors. Fresh air fills your lungs. You adjust your glasses, fix your hair, and start walking toward the parking lot.

It was a little degrading. You're aware of that. You just let a girl you barely know use you for content, boss you around, and treat you like a prop in her social media strategy. That part stings, a bit, if you think about it too hard.

On the other hand, it was also one of the best orgasms of your life. So maybe sitting with it too long isn't necessary.

—

The girls have officially taken over the theater lobby.

Ning’s holding a popcorn bucket almost as big as she is, carefully picking out the best coated pieces first. Shuhua has already loaded up on candy and a slushie. Yunjin’s in the middle of debating the water bottle policy with the cashier. Somi’s texting someone nonstop. Chaeyoung is fully invested in the ingredients list on a candy box for reasons nobody understands. Asa is standing slightly apart from the group, examining her nails.

“Has anyone recorded it yet?" Ning asks, popping a kernel into her mouth. "The challenge, I mean. I haven't even picked a guy."

General murmurs of negation ripple through the group. Shuhua shakes her head. Yunjin is still fighting the cashier. Somi doesn't look up from her phone. Chaeyoung quietly puts the candy box back on the shelf.

"I have," Asa says.

Every head turns.

"Already?" Shuhua's eyes go wide. "It's been like two days since we agreed on this."

"It was this afternoon, actually." Asa inspects a cuticle with surgical focus. "I finished about four hours ago."

Ning abandons her popcorn curation entirely. "Send it. Right now. Group chat."

"Absolutely not. I haven't finished editing. The raw footage needs color correction, the audio is unbalanced, and I want to add text overlays for the—"

"Oh my god, just send the raw version,” Ning groans.

"No. You'll see it when it's ready."

Shuhua leans in, lowering her tone even though nobody else in the lobby is paying attention. "Is it someone from our college?"

"Yes."

"Someone we know?"

Asa lets out a short laugh. “Absolutely not. He’s literally just some random library guy. Total loser. But Jesus Christ, his dick is huge. Like, weirdly huge. I was not mentally prepared for that at all.” Ning's eyebrows climb her forehead. "It was fucking hard to handle," Asa continues, touching her throat absently. "My throat still hurts a little, honestly. The girth on that thing was insane."

"The quiet ones always pack," Yunjin offers, having apparently won her water bottle argument. She rejoins the group with the confidence of a courtroom victor. "It's like a rule of the universe."

Chaeyoung has been quiet this whole time, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. She clears her throat softly. "I've been thinking, and I might not do the challenge. I don't think I can just walk up to some random guy and ask him to, you know. I'd rather die."

Somi finally looks up from her phone. She crosses the gap between them in two long strides and puts her hand on Chaeyoung's shoulder. Firm. Decisive. "You're not backing out," Somi tells her. "I won't allow it."

"But I literally cannot approach a stranger and say those things to his face. I would combust."

"Then don't. You're recording with me. We'll do it as a duo."

Chaeyoung blinks. "Wait, really?"

Yunjin nods encouragingly. "If you want, we can help you find someone too. I know a few guys in my econ lecture who would probably pass out if you looked at them."

Somi cuts her off. "No need. I already have someone picked out. Chae records with me, I handle the talking, she just needs to show up and look pretty." She squeezes Chaeyoung's shoulder. "Easy."

Relief floods Chaeyoung's face. "Okay. If we're doing it together, then yeah. I'm in. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Just bring lip gloss and a hair tie."

Asa tilts her head, considering the arrangement. "A duo is smart, actually. The contrast will look really good on camera. Two girls, one cock. The timeline will eat that up."

"It's going to be so hot," Ning agrees, pulling out her phone to check the trending hashtag.

Armed with popcorn, candy, and oversized drinks, the six of them file into the theater. They talk about the movie previews, assignments, dumb campus gossip. As if they’re not all going into this week with the exact same goal: finding someone with a nice dick.

—

The next day arrives. You're walking through the main corridor on the second floor, laptop bag over your shoulder, earbuds in, heading toward your next lecture. The hallway is busy. Students moving between classes, conversations overlapping, the usual controlled chaos of midday foot traffic.

"Hey, you!"

You don't react. That shout belongs to someone else's life.

"Hey! I'm talking to you! Glasses!"

Still probably not you. Lots of people wear glasses. You keep walking. Fast footsteps come up behind you, then a manicured hand lands on your shoulder and whips you around surprisingly hard.

Jeon Somi stands in front of you.

Blonde hair spilling over her shoulders in soft waves. A designer jacket thrown over a top that’s doing absolutely nothing to hide her massive breasts. Long legs wrapped in fitted jeans. Sharp cheekbones, light brown eyes, and a look that feels dangerously close to a threat.

“Are you deaf?” she asks bluntly.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize you were talking to me. People don’t usually yell at me in hallways.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Her gaze drags over you from head to toe, quick but thorough, leaving you feeling weirdly inspected. “You’re coming with me.”

“Where? Why?”

She doesn't answer. She grabs your hand and starts walking. Not beside you. Ahead of you. Pulling you behind her like a rolling suitcase. Her grip is strong and her strides are long and you have to half jog to keep up without tripping. People notice immediately. Heads turn. Conversations pause. You catch students doing double takes as you pass. Two guys from your programming class nearly short-circuit when they see Jeon Somi towing you down the hall.

And yeah, you get why. Everyone knows who she is. The leaked nude scandal last semester made sure of that. So did the endless rumors afterward, the guys she’s been seen with, the stories people tell about her like she’s some campus celebrity. Someone like her choosing someone like you feels fundamentally wrong to everyone watching.

By tomorrow, half the school is probably going to know your name too.

Somi takes you up a stairwell. First floor, second floor, third floor. Down a corridor that gets progressively emptier. Past classrooms that are clearly in use, then past ones that aren't. The fluorescent lights up here flicker intermittently. One of the ceiling tiles has a water stain shaped like Florida.

"Somi. What do you want so badly that you had to physically drag me across the building."

"It's just a favor," she says over her shoulder.

And there it is. That word again. Favor. The exact same word Asa used yesterday at your table in the library, right before she dropped the most insane proposition you’d ever heard in your life. Suddenly the pieces line up perfectly in your head. They know each other. Asa and Somi. Same friend group. Same social circle. Same weird fucking challenge.

Yesterday it was Asa. Today it’s Somi.

You stop walking and pull your hand free from her grip. She turns around, annoyed, "What?!"

"This is about that challenge. The Twitter thing."

Somi stares at you for a beat. "You know about it?"

"I'm familiar, yeah."

"Great. So I don't need to waste time explaining." She folds her arms under her chest, drawing your attention exactly where she probably expects it to go. “Are you in?”

"Why me specifically?"

"Because you're the most pathetic looking guy on this campus." She says it without a shred of hesitation or remorse. "But you're also decent enough that I wouldn't gag just from touching your dick. That's a narrow window, and congratulations, you fit through it."

"That's the worst compliment anyone has ever given me."

"It wasn't a compliment." The two of you are standing outside a classroom at the very end of the corridor. A laminated sign taped to the door reads CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE.

"This is where you picked," you say, looking at the sign. "A room that's closed for maintenance."

"Nobody will come in here. It's been shut for two weeks."

"A ceiling panel could literally fall on our heads."

"It's not going to." She pushes the handle and the door swings open. "Stop making excuses and get in."

You step into the classroom. The room is dim, lit only by thin strips of sunlight slipping through the blinds along the far wall. Desks have been shoved aside in crooked rows, and dust drifts lazily through the light. Half-erased equations still cover the whiteboard, leftovers from whatever class used this room last. And at the front of the room, perched casually on the professor’s desk, is a girl you’ve seen around campus but never spoken to. She has a pretty, sculpted face, big round eyes and dark hair with faint highlights catching the light. She's wearing an oversized cream colored sweater and a plaid skirt; the whole look makes her seem way too cozy and cute for a place this depressing.

She sneezes violently out of nowhere.

“Somi!” she groans, rubbing at her nose. “This room is disgusting. I’ve been here fifteen minutes and I’m pretty sure I’ve developed lung disease.”

"Stop being dramatic, Chae. A little dust never killed anyone." She closes the door behind you and strides further into the room. She motions between you and the girl on the desk like she’s hosting introductions at some awkward social event. “This is the guy I was talking about. Nerd boy, meet Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung, meet nerd boy.”

Chaeyoung hops down from the desk, landing lightly on her sneakers. She’s almost the same height as Somi, though Somi still has a couple inches on her. "I've seen you around before," she says. "You're usually in the library, right? Or sitting by the fountain near the engineering building."

"Yeah, that's my usual orbit."

"We've never actually spoken, though." She extends her hand. "I'm Chaeyoung. Lee Chaeyoung."

You shake it. Her grip is gentle, her palm warm. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

Finally, you think. Someone with basic social skills and a functioning sense of decency. You glance between the two of them. They're both wearing a noticeable amount of makeup. Chaeyoung has this soft, glowy look, peachy tones and delicate details. Somi went heavier. Contoured cheekbones, defined brows, lips glossed to a mirror finish. They look like they're ready for a photoshoot, not a afternoon on the third floor of a building with water stained ceiling tiles.

"Great," Somi announces, clapping her hands once. "Now that we all know each other and we've done the little handshake thing, let's record."

You lean against one of the pushed aside desks. "Can I ask what the point of this is? Genuinely. What do either of you gain from recording this?"

"Likes," Somi says immediately. "Followers. Engagement. Clout. Take your pick."

"And that's worth it?"

"We don't care what you think. It's none of your business what we do with the video." She crosses her arms. "You're here to provide a service. That's it."

Chaeyoung shifts her weight, tugging at the cuff of her oversized sweater. "I almost gave up on the whole thing, honestly. I know it's kind of crazy. Like, objectively, this is insane behavior."

"It is insane behavior," you confirm.

"But she's here now," Somi cuts in, putting her arm around Chaeyoung's shoulders. "And she is not backing down. Right, Chae?"

"Right. Yeah. I'm here. I'm doing it."

Somi turns her attention back to you, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Speaking of which. Your dick. Is it at least big? Because I swear to god, if I dragged you up three flights of stairs and you pull out a micropenis, I will be furious."

"It's decent."

"Decent, huh? That's exactly what guys say when they have a tiny cock. Every single time. 'It's decent.' 'It gets the job done.' And then you pull their pants down and it's like finding a AA battery in a sock."

"That's a very specific image. Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

"Don't test me right now."

Chaeyoung steps forward, putting herself slightly between you and Somi. "Can you stop being so mean to him? He's already doing us a favor by agreeing to this. The least you can do is be civil."

Somi rolls her eyes with her entire body. Her head tilts back, her shoulders drop, her hands fly up. "Please. Look at him, Chae. Look at this guy. He has never received a blowjob in his life. We are going to be the first people to ever touch his dick. He should be on his knees thanking us for the privilege."

"That's not true," you say. "I've had sex before."

"Sure you have."

"I'm serious. I actually got a blowjob yesterday."

Both of them look at you. Chaeyoung with genuine curiosity. Somi with theatrical disbelief. "Oh, really?" Somi takes a step closer, tilting her head. "Who gave you a blowjob yesterday? Name and surname, please."

The name almost leaves your mouth. It sits right there on the tip of your tongue, ready to go. And for a split second you consider it, because telling Somi that her friend already used you for this exact challenge would probably create enough chaos to shut this whole thing down. Asa mentioned that every girl had to pick a different guy. If Somi finds out she's not the first, that Asa already had you, she'd lose her mind.

Better to keep that card in your back pocket.

"It's personal," you say.

Somi stares at you for two full seconds, then turns to Chaeyoung. "See? Obvious lie. He panicked and couldn't even make up a name." She points at a chair near the center of the room. "Now sit over there."

You grab your backpack, drop it in the corner by the door, and sit in the chair she indicated. It's one of those standard classroom chairs with the little desk arm attached, but you push the arm out of the way and settle in. Somi is already moving around the room, scouting angles. She finds a spot on a shelf near the whiteboard, props her phone against a stack of old textbooks, and adjusts the lean until she's satisfied with the frame.

"The phone stays here,” she explains, tapping the screen. “It'll get both of us in the shot."

"Professional setup,” you say.

"I don't do amateur." She walks back toward you, Chaeyoung falling into step beside her. "Here's how this works. It's simple. The goal is for us to get facefucked until our makeup is ruined. That's the whole point of the trend. Cute face goes in, wrecked face comes out. So you need to not cum in thirty seconds like some premature disaster. Hold it together until our makeup is properly smudged. Can you manage that?"

"I think I can handle it," you say.

Somi raises an eyebrow. "You think?"

"... I'll handle it," you correct.

She nods once and starts heading toward the phone to hit record, but you lift a hand.

"Wait. One thing."

She stops and turns. "What now?"

"Can you show me your tits? Just... help me out a little. Get things moving."

The look she gives you is lethal. You're genuinely not sure if she's about to slap you or walk out. "You're such a pervert."

"You're about to do all this for Twitter likes. I don't think I'm the only pervert in this room.”

Chaeyoung lets out a laugh, immediately stifled behind her hand. Somi shoots her a look and Chaeyoung straightens her face, pressing her lips together.

"Fine," Somi mutters, then reaches back and taps the record button on her phone. She walks back over to you, stops right in front of your chair, and shrugs off her jacket with way more force than necessary, tossing it onto the floor. Then, without hesitation, she grabs the hem of her top and pulls it over her head in one smooth motion. She'd been going braless this whole time.

And her breasts are genuinely, absurdly large. Full and round on her narrow frame, heavy enough to bounce slightly from the motion of pulling her top off. Her skin is smooth, even toned, her nipples a soft pink against the pale expanse.

She stands there with her hands on her hips, topless and defiant. "Happy now, pervert?"

Chaeyoung is pulling at the collar of her cream sweater, fanning herself. "God, it really is hot in here. No ventilation at all." She tugs the sweater over her head and folds it neatly, setting it on a desk. Underneath she's wearing a simple white bra. Her chest is small, barely filling the cups, her collarbones delicate and pronounced above the band.

The contrast is staggering. Somi's huge, bare breasts next to Chaeyoung's petite frame in her little white bra. The tall, aggressive blonde towering over the soft, nervous brunette. Both of them in front of you, half undressed, in a locked classroom on the third floor of a building nobody visits.

Your cock is hard. Fully, uncomfortably hard, straining against the front of your jeans. There's no hiding it and you don't try. "Okay," Somi says, her eyes dropping to your lap for a fraction of a second. "Let's begin."

She kneels in front of the chair. Chaeyoung follows, settling on her knees to Somi's right. Somi's hands go to your belt, her long fingers working the buckle with efficiency. She yanks your jeans down your thighs with both hands, and your boxers come with them. She doesn't bother with the slow reveal. She pulls everything to your ankles in one sharp tug and your cock springs free, slapping against your stomach, thick and fully hard.

Somi stops. Her hands are still on the bunched fabric at your knees. Her eyes are locked on your cock. Her lips part, just slightly, and you watch her throat move as she swallows. "What the fuck," she mutters.

Chaeyoung, kneeling beside her, has gone completely still. Her mouth is open. Her eyes are wide. She's staring at your cock the way people stare at car accidents. Unable to look away, unable to process what she's seeing.

"Okay, that's..." She cuts herself off and stares for another second. "No. Hold on… That is actually the biggest dick I've ever seen in my entire life." She looks back up at you. "I'm being serious.”

Somi recovers. She flips her hair over one shoulder and wraps her fingers around the base. They don't close. Her fingertips fall about a centimeter short of her thumb.

"Well," she says, tone forcibly casual. "At least you won't embarrass us in the video."

"That's all you have to say?" Chaeyoung is still gaping. "Somi, look at this thing."

"I'm looking at it. I'm literally holding it. Stop acting like you've never seen a cock."

"Not one like this."

Somi starts stroking. Slow, tight pulls from base to tip, her grip adjusting to accommodate the girth. Her palm is slick with nothing but her own sweat and it's not enough, so she leans forward and spits. A thick, glossy string that lands on the shaft and she spreads it with her fist, twisting on the upstroke. Chaeyoung reaches out tentatively and wraps her smaller hand around the shaft just below Somi's. Her fingers look even more inadequate against the thickness. She strokes in tandem, following Somi's rhythm, and you can see the fascination on her face. She's studying your cock like it's a specimen, tilting her head, watching the way the veins pulse under her fingers.

"I literally do not know how I'm going to fit this in my mouth," Chaeyoung says quietly.

"The harder it is to take, the hotter it'll look on camera," Somi says, pumping steadily. "Trust me. You're gonna look amazing struggling with it. Just try not to throw up on his cock. I'm not doing another take because your gag reflex decided to betray us."

Chaeyoung immediately scrunches up her face. "Ew. Why would you even say that?"

"Because I'm thinking ahead.”

You lean back in the chair, watching both of their hands work your shaft. "Somi, quick suggestion: instead of talking about vomit, maybe switch gears and give me a titjob. Feels a lot more productive.”

Somi's head snaps up. "Who do you think you are? Asking me for a titjob? This isn't about your pleasure, this is about our content. You have no rights here. You're a prop."

Chaeyoung glances between you and Somi. "Actually, that would look really good on camera,” you explain.

"Excuse me?"

"Think about it," you say, keeping your tone light, reasonable. "Your tits wrapped around my cock, all wet and shiny with spit. Glistening in the light. That's premium content. The timeline would lose their minds."

"God, fine!” Somi snaps. "But only because it'll look good. Not because you asked." She shifts forward on her knees, positioning herself between your legs. She grabs your cock and angles it straight up, then presses her breasts together around the shaft.

The visual is pornographic: your thick cock disappearing into the soft, warm valley of her massive tits, the head poking out from the top of her cleavage on every upstroke. "Chae, spit on it," she orders.

Chaeyoung leans in and spits on the head of your cock, a neat string that drips down the shaft and into Somi's cleavage. Somi starts moving, sliding her breasts up and down, using her hands to press them tight around you. The friction is insane. Warm and slick and pillowy, her soft skin squeezing your girth from both sides.

She finds her rhythm, bouncing her tits on your cock with smooth rolls of her torso. More spit from Chaeyoung. More from Somi herself, leaning down to drool on your shaft before pressing it back between her breasts. The saliva mixes with the thin sheen of sweat building on her skin, and soon her entire chest is glistening, your cock sliding effortlessly through the slick channel.

"There," Somi says, watching the head of your cock emerge from her cleavage on each upstroke. "Happy now?"

"Extremely."

"Enjoy it. This is the only titjob you'll ever get from these." She works you for another minute, her breasts bouncing and jiggling with each motion, wet and gleaming in the dusty light filtering through the blinds. Your cock throbs between them, flushed and leaking, leaving trails of precum that mix with the saliva coating her skin. Eventually Somi pulls back, her breasts separating from your shaft with a slick sound.

"Okay. Enough warmup. Time for the real thing." She grabs your cock and angles it toward her face. "Don't go easy on me. I can handle whatever you've got."

You put your hand on the back of her head. Blonde hair, silky and thick between your fingers. You pull her forward and your cock slides past her glossy lips, stretching them wide. Somi takes half of you on the first push, her jaw straining around the girth, and you feel her throat clench as you hit the back of her mouth. You pull back, then push again, deeper. Her eyes water but she doesn't flinch. She grabs your thighs and braces herself, and you start fucking her face with real momentum.

Somi is aggressive even when she's the one being used. She pushes back against your thrusts, trying to take more, making these low grunting sounds in her throat every time you bottom out. Spit builds fast, coating your shaft in thick, frothy ropes that drip from her chin onto her bare chest. Her lipgloss is the first casualty, smearing in wide, shiny streaks across her cheeks and along your cock.

You pull out and she gasps, spit hanging from her lower lip in long strings. "Harder," she demands. "Come on, nerd. That's all you've got?"

You grab a fistful of her hair and shove her back down. Harder this time. Faster. The slapping of her lips meeting your pelvis fills the classroom, wet and rhythmic and obscene. Her mascara starts to run. Dark streaks bleeding from the corners of her eyes, tracking down her cheekbones. Her contour, her foundation, all of it softening and smudging under the assault of spit and tears.

You pull out of Somi's mouth and angle your cock toward Chaeyoung. She's been kneeling beside Somi this whole time, watching with flushed cheeks and parted lips, her hands resting on her thighs. "Your turn," you say.

Chaeyoung takes a breath and opens her mouth. You guide yourself in gently, slower than you did with Somi. Her lips stretch around the head and she whimpers, high and soft, her brow creasing as the girth fills her mouth. You push in a few inches and feel her gag, her throat tightening, her hands flying to your hips.

You stop. Let her adjust. She breathes through her nose, her eyes squeezed shut, and then nods slightly. You push again, easing into a shallow rhythm, just the first half of your shaft sliding between her stretched lips. She's struggling. Her jaw isn't built for this. But she's trying, god is she trying, her tongue working the underside of your cock, her lips sealed tight despite the strain.

"Relax your throat," Somi coaches from beside her. "Stop fighting it. Let him in." Chaeyoung adjusts her angle, tilting her chin up, and on the next stroke you slide an inch deeper. She gags again but pushes through it, her fingers gripping your thighs, her eyes watering. The peachy blush on her cheeks is bleeding, her subtle eye makeup starting to track.

You alternate. A minute in Somi's mouth, rough and fast, her mascara running in black rivers while she glares up at you with those defiant eyes. Then a minute in Chaeyoung's, slower, gentler, watching her struggle and adapt and gradually take more of you. Between rounds, they lick your cock together. Somi on one side, Chaeyoung on the other, their tongues meeting at the tip in a messy, overlapping tangle. Chaeyoung giggles when their lips brush. Somi pretends she doesn't notice.

Somi grabs the back of Chaeyoung's head suddenly, fingers tangling in her dark hair, and pushes her down on your cock.

"Deeper," Somi orders. "Don't be a pussy about it. Take it." Chaeyoung's eyes go wide and she gags hard as your cock hits the back of her throat, but Somi holds her there, keeps her down. You feel Chaeyoung's throat spasm around the head of your cock and her fingers dig into your thighs. Somi eases up after a few seconds and Chaeyoung pulls off gasping, a thick web of spit connecting her lips to your shaft.

"See?" Somi says. "You can take it. You just needed a push."

"You're crazy," Chaeyoung breathes. But she's smiling.

She leans back in, licking along the shaft, and takes you into her mouth again on her own terms. Deeper. More confident. Her eyes find yours and stay there, glassy and adoring. Then Somi pushes Chaeyoung aside and swallows your cock to the base. All of it. Her nose pressing into your pelvis, her throat bulging, her eyes rolling back for just a second before she catches herself. She holds you there, breathing through her nose in sharp bursts, then pulls off and jacks you with both hands.

"Fuck," Somi mutters, staring at your cock. "Why does your stupid dick feel so good in my throat." She says it like she's genuinely annoyed about it.

You fuck her face until her foundation is gone entirely, until the careful contour is just a memory and her cheeks are flushed and raw and wet with tears and spit. You fuck Chaeyoung's face until her peachy blush is smeared sideways and her mascara has bled into dark smudges beneath her lashes. They take turns. They share. They kiss each other around the head of your cock, their ruined lips meeting in sloppy, wet passes, tasting each other and tasting you.

The pressure in your stomach is winding tight. The balls deep thrusts into Somi's willing throat, the sweet suction of Chaeyoung's eager mouth, the visual of two beautiful, wrecked girls on their knees fighting over your cock. You won't last.

"I'm close," you tell them.

Somi pulls off immediately, gripping the base of your cock with one hand. "On our faces. Stand up."

You stand. Your legs are shaky but you manage. Somi and Chaeyoung press their cheeks together, kneeling side by side in front of you, looking up. You stroke your cock over their faces. Fast, tight pulls, your fist slick with the accumulated spit of both their mouths. Somi's hand comes up and wraps around yours, helping you pump, her eyes locked on the head of your cock inches from her face.

And then you cum. The first shot catches Somi across the bridge of her nose and her right cheek, a thick white rope that clings to her skin and starts to drip. She flinches and then holds still, jaw clenched, taking it. The second hits her forehead and tracks into her hairline. The third you aim at Chaeyoung, a long, heavy streak from her eyebrow down across her cheek to the corner of her open mouth. She gasps, her tongue darting out to catch what landed on her lips, and she moans.

More. A fourth shot across Chaeyoung's nose, landing on Somi's cheek where their faces are pressed together. A fifth that paints Chaeyoung's chin in a thick, dripping coat. A sixth, weaker, that drips from the tip of your cock onto Somi's chest, landing between her glistening breasts.

Chaeyoung is glowing, cum splattered across her flushed face and dripping down to her collarbone. She's smiling like she means it. Genuine and gorgeous. She licks the mess off her lips and laughs, breathless and bubbly, like getting painted with your load is the highlight of her day.

Somi wipes cum out of her right eye and stares at the evidence stringing between her fingers. "Okay," she admits, chest still heaving. "That was pretty fucking hot.”

She stands, crosses to the shelf where her phone is propped, and brings it close to their faces. She angles the screen so the camera captures both of them in tight frame. Glazed, ruined, beautiful. "Say goodbye," Somi tells Chaeyoung.

Chaeyoung waves at the lens with her fingers, cum still webbed between them. Then Somi turns Chaeyoung's face toward hers and kisses her. Soft, brief, their cum smeared lips pressing together and pulling apart with a slick sound. Both of them grinning when it's done.

"That turned out great," she announces, scrubbing through the footage. "The angle caught everything. The titjob, both of us choking, the facial, the kiss. This is premium content."

Chaeyoung wipes her cheek with the back of her hand and looks at you. "Thank you. Seriously. That was actually really fun."

"Anytime," you say, pulling your boxers and jeans back up.

Somi goes to her bag, pulling out wet wipes and a compact mirror. She starts cleaning her face with brisk, efficient motions, checking her reflection between each pass. Chaeyoung walks up to you while Somi is distracted. She's still got traces of cum on her jaw and she doesn't seem to care. She pulls out her phone.

"Can you follow me on Insta? I'd love to chat sometime. Outside of, you know, this whole situation."

You take out your phone. She tells you her handle and you type it in. Her page loads. Aesthetic photos, cute selfies, pictures of coffee and cats. You hit follow.

"I'll text you tonight," she promises. "For real. Not just saying that."

"I believe you."

Somi's reflection catches Chaeyoung in the mirror. "Chae, you know you're way too pretty for him, right? You could do so much better."

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes. "Don't listen to her. She's like that with literally every person on the planet."

"I'm used to the type," you say.

Somi snaps her compact shut. "Okay, we're done here. You can leave now. We don't need you anymore. Go study or whatever it is you do."

You grab your backpack from the corner, sling it over your shoulder. Chaeyoung gives you a little wave, her fingers wiggling, that warm smile still on her face. You wave back.

"Bye, nerd," Somi calls without looking up from her phone.

You push through the heavy door and step into the empty hallway, adjusting your glasses and shifting your backpack as you start toward the stairs. Behind you, through the closed door, you can still hear Chaeyoung complaining about the dust.

Two days. Two separate encounters. Two groups of gorgeous girls actively searching for you because of the same completely insane Twitter challenge. At this point, you're not even questioning it anymore.

This is very quickly becoming the best week of your life. And, to be honest, you’re more than ready to see how much weirder it gets.

—

The lecture hall slowly empties around you while you're still shoving your laptop into your bag. Your phone vibrates against the desk. Instagram DM. Chaeyoung. Her name appears with the little sparkle emoji from her profile, and you catch yourself smiling.

hey! how was class? hope ur not dying of boredom 🥲

You type back as you walk into the corridor. The conversation flows easier than you expected. She tells you about her morning, complains about her statistics professor, asks what you're studying. You mention you've been into a sci fi book lately and it turns out she's read it twice. She sends a screenshot of her bookshelf and half the titles are ones you own. The exchange feels weirdly normal. Like she's a person, not the girl who was on her knees beside Somi yesterday with cum dripping off her chin.

Then a notification slides down from the top of your screen.

Instagram DM. Huh_Yunjin.

You stop walking in the middle of the hallway.

hey 🤍 you free rn?

You open the DM and instantly do what literally anyone would do. You tap her profile. Black and white profile pic. Dark lipstick. Looking unfairly good for no reason. Almost a million followers. Yeah. That tracks. You scroll a little. Pictures that somehow survive Instagram moderation by the smallest possible margin. Sheer tops. Suspicious camera angles. Captions written like ongoing jokes between her and her followers. A tiny link in her bio leads exactly where you'd expect.

You know what this is about. You'd have to be brain dead not to. You reply:

wyd?

wanna give you a little something. trust me, you’re not gonna regret it

where r u

the theater room. building C, the big one with the stage. place is empty rn. just me. come find me 😈

how do i know this isn't some prank

Typing dots. Gone. She gives up on whatever she was typing. Then an Instagram notification slides onto your screen.

Photo • View Once.

Yunjin is in front of a full length mirror backstage somewhere, phone angled to catch herself in profile. Her plaid skirt is bunched up around her hips. No panties. The curve of her ass is right there, the dip of her lower back, one hand lifting the fabric to show you everything. A cropped top that barely contains her. Heels. Her face turned slightly toward the camera with a smirk that says she does this kind of thing on Tuesdays for fun.

The photo disappears. A new message pops up almost immediately.

does that seriously look like a prank? been watching you for a while you're cute i'm interested. but hurry up. i'm not sitting here waiting all day

omw🏃

You shove your phone in your pocket and start walking faster.

Building C is across the quad. You take the path behind the library, the longer one, less foot traffic. Halfway there you stop and dig into the small zippered pocket of your backpack. A little plastic bag, sealed tight, three gummies left inside. Small, innocent looking, red and shaped like cartoon bears. You bought a whole bulk order after that stream went viral last year. The one with the two streamers who lost their minds on camera. You only tuned in because Hyeju was supposed to make a guest appearance, and you stayed because, well, the clips that came out of that night are still floating around the seedier corners of Twitter for a reason.

You pop one into your mouth and bite down. Sweet. Faint chemical aftertaste. You feel it start to dissolve under your tongue.

This thing is going to load your balls up like you've been edging for a week. The first time you tried one you came so much you genuinely thought something was wrong with you. Now you keep them around for special occasions, mostly solo sessions, but lately the universe has been throwing special occasions at you like it owes you back pay.

Four girls in three days. All from the same circle. This whole hot little clique of certified sluts is going through you like a relay race, and you're still undecided on whether that should hurt your pride or massively inflate your ego.

You push through the theater doors and lock them behind you with the inside latch. The auditorium is dark. Rows of empty seats descending toward the stage, which is lit warm and amber by the work lights overhead. You walk down the center aisle, your sneakers quiet on the carpet.

"Are you sure this is a safe place for this," you call out as you reach the stairs leading up to the stage.

A figure straightens up from behind one of the prop tables near the back of the stage. She steps into the warm pool of light, and yeah. Okay.

Yunjin in person is something else.

Tall. Legs that go forever, made even longer by the black heels strapped around her ankles. The plaid skirt from the photo, riding high on her thighs. A black crop top with thin straps, her stomach toned and bare, the slight curve of her chest visible underneath. Her hair is blonde. Freshly done, by the look of it, that bright platinum that catches every bit of stage light. Full pouty lips painted a glossy plum that's already smudged slightly at one corner. Sharp eyes. Mischief lives in them.

"My friend works here," she says, stopping a step away from you. "She runs lighting for the drama department. She told me the building is dead until evening rehearsal. We've got at least an hour, probably more." She looks you up and down, slow, taking inventory. "I'm glad you actually showed up."

"You called me."

"I did call you." She grins. "Not gonna do the whole introduction thing because everyone here knows who I am. Let's save the time. There's this Twitter challenge going around right now. Me and my girls all jumped on it. The premise is pretty simple. I need to get absolutely ruined on camera by a guy who looks exactly like you." Her hands come up and find the collar of your shirt, fingers playing with the fabric. "You're perfect for this," she tells you. "Glasses, the messy hair, the whole shy genius thing. I clocked you in the cafeteria last week. You were mumbling to yourself about some equation, and I thought, yeah. Him. Definitely him."

"I've heard about the challenge."

Her eyebrows lift. "Oh, really?"

"Word gets around." You hold her gaze. "I'm in."

"Smart boy." Her hand drops from your collar and slides down your chest, your stomach, and lands square on the front of your jeans. She squeezes lightly. "Oh, look at this. You're already hard. Is that for me?"

"That picture would make a dead man hard."

She laughs, head tipped back, her throat exposed. "Listen to you. I expected some stuttering little nerd, all sweaty palms and broken sentences. You're way more confident than I gave you credit for."

Your hands find her waist. She's warm under your palms, her skin smooth where your thumbs rest against her bare stomach. You let one hand slide down and around, palming the curve of her ass through the skirt. Squeezing. It's even better than the photo suggested. Thick and full and firm under your fingers.

"Mm." She presses into your hand. "Yeah, okay. You can definitely keep doing that." She squeezes your cock through your jeans again, harder this time, mapping out the shape of you. Her grin widens. "Wait. Hold on." She squeezes again. "What are you packing under here? This feels promising."

"You'll find out."

"I'm finding out right now, apparently." She leans her face close to yours, plum lips almost brushing your mouth. "This video is gonna be way better than I planned. I was expecting cute and mid. This is feeling more like cute and dangerous."

"I'll do my best."

"Yeah? Tell me what you're gonna do."

"I'm going to make you gag on it until you can't talk straight. I want to see you wrecked. Drooling on yourself. Huh Yunjin choking on my cock until your makeup is in your lap."

"Fuck yes. That's the energy." She closes the distance and kisses you.

She kisses like she's trying to eat you alive. Plum gloss smearing, tongue immediately in your mouth, both hands fisting the front of your shirt and pulling you against her. You back her up two steps until she hits the prop table behind her, and your hands are everywhere. Up her sides, palming the soft swell of her chest through that thin top, down to grab two handfuls of her ass and pull her tight against you. She rolls her hips into your bulge and groans into your mouth.

You make out for what feels like a while. Long enough that you're both breathing hard, her gloss completely gone from her lips and smudged across yours, her hair mussed where your fingers tangled in it. She pulls back, panting. "Okay. Okay, let's actually do this before I get carried away and just ride you in a folding chair." She steps out of your reach. "I'm gonna get undressed."

"All the way?"

"All the way." She's already reaching back to unzip the skirt. "If we're doing this, we're doing it properly. None of this half clothed business. I want my whole body in frame."

She undresses without an ounce of self consciousness. The skirt drops to the floor and she steps out of it. The crop top comes off over her head and her hair tumbles back down around her shoulders. Just heels left. She stands there in the warm stage light, completely bare, hands on her hips, watching you watch her.

She is staggering. Toned legs flowing up into thick thighs that gap at the top. Her ass round and full behind her. Her chest is small, soft, her nipples pierced with delicate silver bars catching the light. A subtle line of definition down her stomach. Her plum lips swollen from the kissing, her eye makeup still mostly intact, sharp and dark.

"Well," she says, doing a slow turn for you. "What's the verdict, professor?"

"You're perfect."

"Correct answer." She picks up her phone from the table, taps it into camera mode, and hands it to you. "Don't drop it. And try to keep me in frame, but don't worry about being artsy. The chaos is the point." She sinks down to her knees on the wooden stage floor, looking up at you. The amber lights catch her hair and turn it almost gold. She tilts her head, smirks, runs her tongue slowly along her lower lip. "Alright, babe. Let's see what we're working with."

Her hands settle on the front of your pants.

Yunjin’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants with an ease that makes it immediately clear this isn’t new territory for her. And definitely not the weirdest place she’s done it. She keeps looking up at you while she works the button open, her glossy lips curved in that teasing little smile, blonde hair falling over one shoulder as she tugs the zipper down.

“You’re trying so hard to look calm,” she says, amused, her knuckles brushing the hard outline of you through your underwear. “It’s cute. I can feel your dick jumping every time I touch you.”

“You’re naked on your knees in front of me,” you answer. “I’d be more worried if I looked calm.”

She laughs under her breath and pulls your pants down with your underwear in one smooth motion. Your cock springs out hard, heavy, already leaking precum from the kissing and the gummy spreading heat through your veins. Yunjin actually goes silent. You watch the reaction hit in stages. First surprise. Eyes widening. Taking a second look. Then comes the grin. Slow, filthy, pure excitement.

“Oh my god,” she says, sitting back on her heels. “No fucking way.”

You glance down at her, trying not to grin too much. “Still think I’m just cute and dorky?”

“Shut up, I’m processing.” She wraps one hand around the base, and her fingers don’t close all the way. That makes her smile wider. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. Quiet guys are always hiding something evil in their pants. This might be the biggest dick I’ve ever had in my mouth, and I’m not even saying that to boost your nerd ego.”

“That’s a pretty strong review.”

“I have experience. My review matters.” She strokes once, slow, her thumb dragging along the underside. “Jesus. It’s not even just long. It’s fat. Like, I’m gonna feel personally disrespected by my own jaw in ten minutes.”

She leans in and spits directly onto the head, letting the saliva slide down before she spreads it with her palm. Her hand moves over you with immediate ease, slicking you up, twisting around the ridge, cupping the head, rubbing the wetness down the shaft until your cock gleams under the stage lights. She watches the shine build with open appreciation.

“Pretty,” she murmurs, smiling to herself before lightly tapping your cock against her cheek. Once. Then again. Soft little smacks against skin. She tilts her head, looking way too pleased. “Jesus. Look at this thing.” Her grin widens. “This is absolutely gonna ruin me.”

She drags the underside over her lips, leaving a wet smear of saliva and precum across the plum gloss. Her mouth opens slightly, tongue slipping out to trace the swollen head. She gives you one slow lick, then kisses the tip like she’s flirting with it, her eyes staying locked on yours the whole time.

“You know what’s dangerous?” she says, rubbing your cock along her lower lip. “I can already tell I’m gonna be stupid about this. I’m supposed to make a cute little challenge video and go home, but this dick looks like it could ruin my plans for the week.”

“You’ve barely started.”

“I know. That’s the problem.” She opens her mouth wider and lets the head rest on her tongue. “I’m excited.” Then she takes you in.

The first slide into her mouth is hot, wet, and far too smooth for something that should be difficult. Her lips stretch around the girth, glossy and plush, sealing tight as she sinks lower. You feel her tongue flatten beneath you, guiding the shaft in a practiced line, easing the thickness over the middle of her tongue and toward the back of her throat. She doesn’t rush. She doesn’t panic. She makes room.

You swear under your breath when she takes more than half of you on the first try. Yunjin hums around your cock, pleased with the reaction, and pulls up slowly until only the head remains between her lips. Her cheeks hollow, suction tightening in a way that nearly makes your knees buckle. She swirls her tongue around the ridge, collects the slickness gathering there, then sinks down again, deeper this time, both hands on your thighs for balance.

Yeah, okay. She absolutely knows what she’s doing. There’s skill in the way she moves, not just enthusiasm. She angles her head to take the girth without scraping teeth. She uses her tongue constantly, dragging it along the underside, pressing into the sensitive strip beneath the head whenever she pulls back. Her lips never loosen. Every inch of you gets attention, and when she reaches the point where most girls would stop, she relaxes her jaw, breathes through her nose, and keeps going.

Your cock hits the back of her throat. She gags once, barely, more like her body acknowledging the size than refusing it. Her hands squeeze your thighs. Her eyes flutter, watery already, but she forces another inch down until her lips are close to the base. Then, with a slow, obscene determination, she swallows around you and noses against your pelvis.

“Fuck,” you say, because there isn’t anything smarter available in your brain.

She pulls off with a slick gasp, saliva stretching from her mouth to your cock before breaking across her chin. Her lips are swollen and wet, the plum gloss already smeared beyond repair. “See?” she says, breathing hard but grinning. “Made for it.”

“You weren’t exaggerating.”

“I never exaggerate about head. That’s sacred.” She strokes you in one hand while the other drops to your balls, cupping them with a reverence that surprises you. Her eyes lower. “Oh, these are heavy. What the hell are you feeding them?”

“Would you believe gummy bears?”

She looks up sharply, amused. “Don’t joke with me while I’m worshipping your balls.”

“I’m not joking.”

She studies your face for a second, then laughs. “You’re weird. I like it.” Her fingers roll your balls gently, feeling the weight, her tongue slipping out to lick along the base of your shaft. “These are going to make an insane mess of me, aren’t they?”

“That’s the plan.”

“That better be a promise.” She bends lower and takes one of your balls into her mouth, lips sealing around it, tongue moving with slow, wet attention. Her hand keeps stroking your cock while she sucks gently, then switches to the other, giving it the same treatment. The stage lights catch every trail of saliva on her chin, every smudge of makeup beginning to soften around her mouth. She looks completely at home like this, naked, kneeling, eyes bright with hunger.

“You have no idea how hot this is,” she says between kisses along your shaft. “Your cock is stupid big, your balls are full, and you look like you still think this is a weird dream you’re gonna wake up from.”

"It’s crossed my mind, yeah.”

“Don’t wake up. I’m not done being a slut for you.” She goes back down on you, more aggressive now. Her hand grips the base while her mouth works the upper half, fast and wet, tongue flicking, lips dragging, throat opening whenever she decides to take you deep. She alternates between worship and hunger, kissing your shaft, licking the veins, spitting on it again when she wants more slickness, rubbing the mess over you with her palm before swallowing you down.

Your phone stays in your hand, recording, the frame centered on her face. It catches everything. The way her lips stretch around you. The way her eyes lift to the lens whenever she takes you deep. The slow collapse of her makeup. Plum lipstick smeared across her chin, mascara damp at the corners, saliva slipping down her neck and onto the small rise of her chest.

She pulls off, panting, and slaps the head of your cock against her tongue twice before rubbing it over her lips. “I’m getting attached,” she says, almost accusatory. “That’s so unfair. You show up with this fat thing and expect me to act normal after?”

"You invited me."

"Yeah, and now this cock is mine. I'm calling dibs." She plants another wet kiss on the tip, then smiles up at you from below with spit running down her chin and eyes half-lidded from sheer arousal.

Yunjin leans in and swallows you deep again, this time she doesn't pull back when her throat tightens, the discomfort is part of the pleasure, swallowing repeatedly, forcing herself to adjust, her eyes watering harder, completely red now. You feel the muscles contracting around your cock, feel her body working to accept every inch. You watch as her thighs press together beneath her, the shine between them highlighted by the overhead stage lights when she shifts.

"Fuck, you're soaked," you groan.

She pulls off just enough to speak, lips still brushing the head. "Obviously I am. Do you have any idea what it's like having this monster prying my mouth open? My pussy's been dripping since I saw it." Her hand slides between her legs for one quick touch, collecting the proof of just how much of a slut she is, then she shows the wet shine on her fingers to the camera with a shameless smile.

"See? Your fault." She licks her own fingers making an obscene sound that makes your cock throb, then looks up at you. "Okay. I want it now."

"Want what?"

Her smile turns wicked. "Don't play dumb. Grab my hair and use my throat. I've been nice to your dick. Now ruin me for the video. Fuck my face, I know you're dying to do it."

"Alright, since you insist." Your free hand slides into her blonde hair, gripping close to the scalp. Yunjin opens her mouth immediately, tongue out, waiting, that look of a bitch in heat as deliberate as it is involuntary. You guide her forward and push your cock between her lips. Yunjin accepts the first thrust with a deep inhale through her nose, then braces her hands against your thighs.

You start hard right away. There's no need to build a rhythm when you already know what Huh Yunjin is capable of. Your thrusts are deep, each one pressing into her throat, nothing brutal yet but firm enough that her body has to be actively working to keep from gagging badly on your cock. Her eyes start watering again. Her lips stretch around you, swollen and slick. Saliva spills from the corners of her mouth almost immediately, pooling under her chin before dripping onto her chest.

Yunjin takes it beautifully.

The more you give her, the more alive she looks. She doesn't retreat from the roughness. She leans forward, seeking more force, gripping your thighs and letting you control the angle while she focuses on relaxing her throat around every thrust. A professional cocksucker, indeed. Your cock slides in and out of her mouth with wet sounds that echo louder and louder across the vastness of the theater, the camera catching her face coming undone in real time like a painting in the rain.

The lipstick is no longer neat, smeared across her cheeks and your shaft, purple and red streaks mixing with spit. Her mascara begins to run in thin lines, and when Yunjin looks up at you through wet lashes, you see genuine happiness stamped across her ruined face; it's beautiful to witness such raw passion in simply being the biggest slut on campus.

"Fuck, Yunjin," you say, driving deeper. "You really can take it."

She tries to answer around your cock and only manages a garbled, eager sound. Her hands go to your hips, pulling you forward — a clear signal for you to pick up the pace. So you fuck her mouth harder. Your hips slam into her face, your hand holding her in place, and every deep thrust makes her throat bulge and clench. She gags, recovers, takes it again. Tears spill freely now, cutting through the makeup on her cheeks. Drool runs down her neck in thick streams, sliding over her collarbone, dripping onto her small breasts and leaving glossy trails across her nipples.

You pull out to let her breathe. She inhales sharply, laughs, and spits a filthy string of saliva onto your cock.

"That's it. That's the clip. Holy shit, keep going. We're making history. My pussy is literally dripping onto the stage right now. How do I look?"

"You already look completely ruined," you tell her. "In other words: pretty fucking hot."

"Good. Make it worse then." Yunjin rubs her cheek against your shaft, nuzzling affectionately like she has genuine fondness for the thing destroying her face. "This cock is too fucking good. I hate that I found you through a trend. I should've hunted you down weeks ago. My bad."

You push back into her mouth, and she takes you with that same hunger. Now the rhythm is getting rougher and less careful, driven by the gummy bear's effect creeping through your bloodstream. Your balls feel heavy, too full, aching with all the pressure, and Yunjin notices. Her hand reaches down to cup them while you fuck her throat, squeezing gently, rolling them between her fingers.

The rhythm is partially interrupted when you see her thighs starting to tremble. You notice a full-body tremor rolling through her before she finally locks up completely. Both hands clench around you, fingers digging in, her throat contracts hard around your cock in thick, rhythmic pulses. She's cumming. Unironically, she's cumming right there on her knees with your cock buried in her throat, cumming just from having a cock in her mouth. Her eyes blow wide, then roll back until only the whites are visible, lashes fluttering as tears cut down her ruined face. Her whole body shudders and her hips jerks against nothing. You've never seen anything this hot in your life.

When you pull back to let Yunjin breathe again, you ask: "Holy fuck, d-did you just cum?"

She slumps forward with forehead pressing against your thigh, laughing in these ragged, wrecked little gasps. "I told you I was a slut." She tilts her face up and there's mascara smeared everywhere, along with spit, tears, and pure satisfaction. "Don't act so surprised." She drags the back of her hand across her chin and only smears it worse. "A cock like that shoved down my throat? Yeah. That's what happens."

"That's, like, really insane."

"That's talent, babe. Now put it back." You do, of course, and she gives herself over with even less restraint. The next stretch is messy beyond any salvation. She alternates between taking full-on facefucking and pulling you out to worship the head, tongue circling, lips sucking hard, hands pumping the base. The dirty talk pours out nonstop whenever her mouth is free because she simply can't contain herself, and you love that about her.

"This is mine now," she says, pumping you with both hands. "I'm serious. You don't get to walk around campus with this fat cock pretending it's public property. I found it, I choked on it, I came from it, so I have rights."

"Okay so you're making legal claims now?"

"Sexual claims. Way more serious." She kisses your tip, leaving a ruined smear of lipstick and spit. "You know, I'm going to think about this in class from now on. I'm going to be sitting there pretending to take notes while remembering how your cock stretched my throat open.”

Your orgasm starts building for real, low and heavy, dragged out by the gummy until it feels almost too intense. Yunjin senses the shift and pulls off, wrapping both hands around your cock. Her grip is slick, fast, frantic, using all the spit coating you. “You close?”

“Yeah.”

“On my face,” she says instantly. “All over it. Don’t waste a drop anywhere boring. I want to look disgusting.”

She jerks you harder, her hands sliding from base to tip in quick, wet strokes. Her ruined face is right below the head of your cock, eyes locked on you, mouth open, tongue visible between glossy lips. “Come on,” she urges. “Make me pretty. Paint this slutty face. I want it in my hair, on my lips, down my neck. Give me that huge nerd load. I know you’ve got it.”

The pressure snaps. The first jet hits her cheekbone hard, thick and white, streaking toward her ear. Yunjin gasps, delighted, and doesn’t stop stroking you. The second shoots across her forehead and into the roots of her blonde hair. The third lands over her nose and upper lip, splattering hot across the smeared makeup. She laughs, breathless and amazed, pumping you faster. “Holy fuck,” she says. “There’s so much.”

More comes. Another heavy rope spills over her open mouth, coating her tongue before sliding down her chin. She tilts your cock with one hand, aiming the next burst at her neck, and it paints a thick line down her throat. She drags the head lower, still milking you, and more cum spurts across her collarbone and small breasts, catching on her nipples and dripping toward her stomach.

It keeps going. The gummy turns the orgasm into something ridiculous, relentless, your cock pulsing over and over while Yunjin works every contraction out of you. She aims you back at her face for the final spurts, letting them splatter across her lips and jaw, adding more white to the ruined plum and black makeup already smeared everywhere.

By the time the last weak pulse drips from the tip, she is covered. Face, neck, chest, the top of her stomach. Cum clings to her lashes, streaks through her hair, sits thick on her lips. She stares down at herself, stunned for half a second, then bursts into laughter.

“Oh my god,” she says, genuinely amazed. “What are you, a fucking fire hose?”

You’re still catching your breath, phone aimed directly at her. The frame catches her kneeling there in the stage lights, naked and trembling, grinning through a mask of cum and destroyed makeup.

Yunjin lifts her chin toward the camera and smiles like she knows exactly how filthy she looks. She drags one finger through the cum on her cheek, brings it to her mouth, and tastes it slowly.

“Yummy,” she says, making sure the camera catches the way her tongue cleans her fingertip.

Then she pouts at the lens, exaggerated and sexy, lips glossy with your cum, eyes half lidded and sparkling with trouble. She holds the pose long enough to make the ending perfect.

You stop recording. For a moment, both of you just stand there in the afterglow of it, the empty theater silent around you except for Yunjin’s uneven breathing. She rises carefully, one hand finding the edge of the prop table to steady herself. Her knees shake a little, and she laughs again when she notices.

“That,” she says, pointing at you with a cum covered finger, “was the best blowjob, deep throat, facefucking situation I have ever been part of. And I’ve got an extensive resume.”

You pull your underwear and pants back up, still sensitive enough that even the fabric brushing you makes you wince. “Glad I ranked highly.”

“Highly? Babe, you broke the scale.” She looks down at the mess on her chest, then back at your jeans like she can still see through them. “I’m obsessed. That’s so annoying. I was supposed to film a hot clip, post it, brag in the group chat, and move on with my life. Now I’m standing here covered in your cum wondering if I can fit you into my schedule as a recurring problem.”

“That sounds flattering.”

“It’s extremely flattering. Don’t let it make you arrogant.” She bends down carefully, picking her clothes off the floor one by one. She doesn’t put anything on yet, probably because there is no clean way to do it while coated like this. “Are you free tonight?”

You pause with your belt half fastened. “Tonight?”

“Yeah. My place.”

“I thought you got what you needed.”

“With you?” She gives you a look that makes it very clear how stupid she thinks that sentence was. “No, babe. I have so many things I need to do with your dick that I should not start listing them, because if I do, I’ll get wet again and try to fuck you right here on this stage before the drama kids show up.”

You glance toward the backstage hallway. “How are you getting rid of all of that?”

“There are showers behind the dressing rooms.” She waves it off, completely unconcerned. “I’ve made bigger messes here during tech week. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re really inviting me over after this?”

“I’m not inviting. I’m claiming.” She steps closer, still naked, still streaked with cum, and taps a finger against your chest. “I’ll send you my address on IG. Come tonight. Bring that cock, bring the weird gummy thing if that’s part of your magic, and don’t make plans for tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be there,” you say.

“Good. And hey. Seriously. That was insane.”

“You were insane.”

“I know. That’s why people like me.” You hand her phone back. She checks the video quickly, scrubbing through the timeline with professional focus despite the fact that cum is still dripping from her chin onto her chest.

“Oh, this is disgusting,” she says happily. “Perfect. The lighting is hot, my face looks wrecked, your dick looks criminal. I might not even have to edit much. Maybe just cut the parts where I was yapping my ass off about being in love with your cock.”

“Glad the production value survived.”

“Barely. My dignity did not, but that wasn’t invited.” She heads toward the backstage showers with her clothes bundled in one arm, hips swaying, heels clicking lightly on the stage floor. Before disappearing behind the curtain, she turns back, still grinning. “Tonight,” she says. “Don’t make me chase you.”

You leave the stage feeling absurdly good about yourself. The theater doors shut behind you, and the hallway outside is empty, too normal for what just happened. Your legs are steady enough now, your breathing mostly back.

Four girls so far. Not that you're counting. Okay, maybe a little. Asa. Somi and Chaeyoung. Now Yunjin. Two more should still be out there somewhere. You head back toward the main campus mentally preparing for the next completely normal and not concerning interaction of the week.

—

The park looks stupidly nice today. One of those afternoons where the lighting is so good everything suddenly feels edited. Trees glowing, grass looking greener than usual, the whole thing straight out of a stock photo. Families on blankets. Dogs losing their minds over frisbees. People jogging. Just regular people doing regular Thursday stuff.

Shuhua walks beside Ning with a cherry popsicle in hand, somehow managing to eat it with impossible levels of grace. No sticky fingers. No drips. Every little movement neat and automatic, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth between bites. Her pale blue dress shifts softly around her ankles in the breeze, dark hair pinned back with a single clip. Between the sunlight and the whole effortless look she's got going on, she barely feels real.

Next to Shuhua, Ning looks like the opposite side of the same coin. Tiny shorts, cropped tank, dark hair down around her shoulders. The center part frames her face in a way that somehow makes her eyes stand out even more. People call her features feline all the time. Mostly because of her eyes. Sharp. Alert. Always tracking everything around her.

"Have you seen Yunjin's numbers?" Ning asks, scrolling her phone while walking, a skill she's perfected over years of content creation. "Forty thousand views in twelve hours. Forty thousand. And she barely edited. The color grading is flat and the audio peaks twice. Imagine if she'd actually put effort into post."

Shuhua takes another careful bite of her popsicle. "I thought her video was quite good, actually."

"It was fine. Asa's was better. The library setting, the composition, the slow buildup. That's how you do it." Ning locks her phone and slides it into her back pocket. "The point is, we're the only ones who haven't filmed yet. Somi and Chaeyoung posted theirs this morning. Asa posted yesterday. Yunjin went up last night. We're falling behind."

"It's not a race, Ning."

"Everything is a race when likes are involved." She glances sideways at Shuhua. "I can't afford to lose momentum. My account gained six hundred followers just from reposting Asa's clip with commentary. If I post my own content from the trend while it's still peaking, the engagement will be insane. But we need to find someone today."

Shuhua finishes the last bite of her popsicle and holds the bare stick between two fingers, looking around for a trash can. "I agree we should film soon. I've been thinking about it more than I expected, honestly. The idea is growing on me."

"Growing on you how?"

A faint blush spreads across Shuhua's cheeks, barely noticeable against her pale skin. She looks away for a second. "I'd rather not get into that in the middle of a public park.”

Ning grins. "That's all the elaboration I needed."

They round a bend in the path and that's when Shuhua spots you. Sitting on the grass under an oak tree, legs crossed, a paperback open in your lap. Earbuds in. Glasses catching the afternoon light. Completely oblivious to the world around you, which is your default state and, apparently, your most attractive quality. "I know him," Shuhua says, slowing her pace. "He's in my Wednesday seminar. Quiet. Sits in the back row. He's quite smart, from what I can tell."

Ning studies you with the detached precision of a photographer framing a shot. "I've seen him around too. Library, mostly. Always alone, always reading." She tilts her head. "He's got the look. The glasses, the messy hair, the whole unaware thing. The contrast would photograph beautifully."

They exchange a glance. Shuhua raises one eyebrow. Ning nods once.

"Together?" Shuhua asks.

"Together." Shuhua deposits her popsicle stick in a trash can along the path and the two of them walk across the grass toward you. Their shadows fall over your book before you register their presence. You pull one earbud out and look up.

Oh. Sure. The last two.

Ning shifts her weight onto one hip and studies you quietly. Not openly suspicious, not exactly friendly either. Up close, she's honestly more striking than her photos ever made her seem. You've seen her Instagram enough times to know that. There's something magnetic about her in person. The sharpness of her features. The unwavering eye contact. Like once she looks at you, looking away becomes your responsibility.

And then there's Shuhua. You keep trying to come up with a better word for it, but ethereal is annoyingly accurate. Pale skin glowing under the sunlight, big dark eyes, delicate features that somehow look even softer up close. She has her hands folded in front of her dress so neatly that she looks like she belongs at some afternoon tea party, not here near you.

It's incredible, genuinely, how you went from being invisible on this campus to being the gravitational center of the six hottest girls at the university. One week. Seven days of your previously unremarkable life, and suddenly you can't sit in a park without attracting beautiful women who want to use your cock for content.

"Have you heard of a Twitter trend called Ruin the Pretty Face?" Ning asks, skipping past any greeting.

"Yeah,” you say, closing your book. "It's gotten huge lately. Honestly kind of wild.”

"We want to record a video," Shuhua adds, her tone polite as ever, like she's asking you to proofread an essay. "With you. If you're willing."

You look around the park. Families. Dogs. Vendors selling popcorn and ice cream. A man flying a kite about thirty meters away. "Here? Right now?"

"Not here, obviously," Ning says. "I drove today. We can film in my car. Tinted windows, good camera, plenty of privacy."

"And both of you are recording this together."

"Yes," they say in unison.

You let that sink in for approximately half a second before your brain finishes its cost benefit analysis.

"Okay," you say, standing up and tucking the book under your arm. Shuhua falls into step beside you as the three of you start walking toward the parking area. Ning leads, phone already out, checking the light conditions, probably calculating optimal filming angles based on where her car is parked relative to the sun.

"Can I ask you something?" Shuhua asks gently. Her hands remain clasped as she walks, pale blue fabric shifting around her calves with every step.

"Go ahead."

"Has any girl ever approached you before asking for the same thing? For this challenge, I mean."

You don't hesitate. "No. You two are the first crazy ones to come up to me with something like this."

Shuhua nods, seemingly satisfied. "Good. I'd feel strange if we weren't the first. It would change the dynamic."

Ning glances back over her shoulder. "The dynamic's fine. Let's stay focused." The parking garage is only about a five minute walk from the park. Ning's SUV is parked on the second level, black with windows tinted dark enough to look at least a little suspicious. She unlocks it with her key fob and jerks her head toward the back door. "Get in the back.”

You climb in. The interior is clean, almost obsessively so. No fast food wrappers, no loose change, no clutter. Just a faint scent of clean air and leather. Shuhua slides in on your left, gathering her long dress around her legs with careful, ladylike precision. Ning gets in on your right, pulling the door shut with a solid thunk. The tinted windows turn the afternoon light dim and amber. You're sandwiched between them. Shuhua's thigh brushes yours through her linen dress. Ning's bare leg presses warm against your other side.

Ning reaches into a bag near the front seat and produces a compact makeup kit, the professional kind with multiple compartments and a lighted mirror. She flips it open and starts touching up her face, quick and efficient. Then she hands it to Shuhua, who applies a careful layer of lip tint and a fresh coat of mascara, checking her reflection from three different angles before she's satisfied.

"We'll record on my phone," Ning announces, then hands you the device. "Hold it. I want mobility in the shot. Don't shake it, keep us in frame, and don't film anything identifiable about the car."

"I can handle it." You barely stop yourself from smiling. She has no clue you've somehow ended up doing this three separate times in the same week. At this point you could probably run a masterclass on filming angles for horny Twitter content. "Trust me.”

"We'll see." Ning turns to face you more fully, one leg tucking beneath her on the seat. "And one more warning. You're cumming in my mouth. Tell us when you're about to blow, because I’m not letting you make a mess in my car. Understood? Now get that cock hard."

Two hands find your lap simultaneously. Ning's on the right, confident and direct, her fingers pressing against the growing shape beneath your jeans. Shuhua's on the left, lighter, more tentative, her touch exploratory as it traces the outline of you through the fabric.

Ning leans in first, kissing you without much hesitation. Her lips are cool and smooth, carrying the faint taste of gloss. A quiet hum leaves her before she pulls away again. Then Shuhua takes her place.

The shift is instant. Shuhua kisses more softly, more carefully, barely parting her lips at first. But her hand around your cock tightens slightly, betraying nerves or excitement. She still tastes faintly like cherry from the popsicle. When your tongue brushes against hers, her breathing catches and a small surprised sound slips out before she can stop it.

Then suddenly it's all three of you at once. Kisses overlapping, mouths brushing against mouths, everything blurring together into something messy and warm. For a few seconds it gets hard to tell where one kiss ends and another begins. Shuhua's perfectly composed expression slips just a little, her eyes growing heavy. And Ning's whole cool princess act cracks for a split second when you catch her lower lip between your teeth and a real reaction slips out before she can stop it.

"You kiss well for a nerd," Ning murmurs against the corner of your mouth. They keep kissing you. Both of them. Taking turns, sharing, their hands still stroking you through your jeans, until Shuhua's brow furrows, her hand stops moving on your lap and her fingers press down, tracing the shape more carefully. Her eyes widen.

"Your cock is actually fucking huge," she murmurs.

Ning's hand joins Shuhua's, both of them feeling you through the denim now, mapping out the length and thickness with growing disbelief. "Hmm, it's probably just the pants," Ning says, though her expression suggests she doesn't believe that for a second. "Let's check if that's actually the case."

Ning yanks your belt open with zero hesitation. She tugs your pants down your thighs, and you lift your hips so she can pull them past your knees. Your boxers go with them. Your cock springs free, half hard and swelling heavier by the second in the warm, close air of the car.

Ning just stares for a second. Her lips part slightly, eyebrows lifting before she can stop them, and for one brief, completely unguarded moment she looks genuinely caught off guard. Her hand comes up slowly, wraps around the shaft, and her fingers don't even come close to meeting. "Okay," she breathes. "This is going to be way better than I imagined."

Shuhua leans across your lap to see, her pale face inches from your cock, and her dark eyes go impossibly round. "That is the biggest dick I have ever seen. In my entire life. Holy shit."

Your cock's still a little sore, honestly. Yunjin kept you at her place until almost two in the morning. At some point you completely lost track of how many times she made you cum, how many positions she somehow folded herself into, or how many times she looked you dead in the eyes and told you your cock belonged to her now.

The gummy lasted way longer than the package claimed it would, and by the time you finally collapsed onto her couch, you were pretty sure your body had reached its limit. For the first time since this whole insane week started, you actually felt drained.

But you can find some more stamina. For Shuhua and Ning, you can dig deep.

Ning strokes you once, twice, feeling the girth, watching the way your cock thickens further under her touch. She glances at Shuhua with a grin spreading across her face. You lift the phone, frame the shot tight on both of them, and hit the red button. The timer starts counting in the corner of the screen.

Ning leans down and drags her tongue in a long, flat stripe from the base to the tip. Shuhua follows immediately, her tongue tracing the opposite side, and the two of them meet at the head with their mouths brushing against each other. Ning takes you in first, wrapping her lips around the crown and sinking down, taking as much of your girth as her small mouth can manage on the first pass. Her cheeks hollow and she pulls up slow, letting the camera catch the slick shine coating your shaft. "Your turn," she murmurs, and guides your cock toward Shuhua's mouth.

Shuhua parts her lips and takes you in gently. Her eyes flutter closed and a soft, quiet sound escapes her throat. She bobs her head in shallow, careful motions, her hand gripping the base where her mouth can't reach. She's tentative at first. Testing. Adjusting to the stretch of her jaw around something this thick. But she doesn't pull away. If anything, she sinks deeper, taking another inch, then another, her throat working around you.

"Good?" Ning asks, watching Shuhua's face with curiosity.

Shuhua pulls off just enough to speak, her lips still brushing the head. "Very good." She kisses the tip softly, then takes you back into her mouth with more confidence.

They trade off. Ning goes deep, sloppy and showy, letting spit pool and drip down her chin because she knows exactly how it looks on camera. She moans around your shaft, loud and performative, her dark eyes finding the phone lens and holding the gaze. Her tongue works the underside with practiced skill, and when she pulls off, thick strings of saliva connect her swollen lips to your cock. Shuhua takes over with a steadier, quieter intensity. She sucks you with focus, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. She discovers a rhythm that makes you twitch in her mouth and she stays there, repeating the motion, building on it. Her hand cups your balls, rolling them gently, and you hear her whimper against your shaft.

This looks like the kind of porn video you'd scroll past on your feed and immediately save. Two insanely beautiful women in the backseat of a car, heads in your lap, taking turns swallowing your cock while the afternoon light filters through tinted windows.

You decide it's time to step it up. Your free hand slides into Ning's dark hair and you push her head down. She takes it with a muffled sound of surprise that melts into a groan as your cock hits the back of her throat. You hold her there, feeling her throat constrict around you, then pull her back and push forward again. Fucking her face in slow, deep strokes. Her hands grip your thigh for balance and she opens her throat for you, letting you use her mouth however you want.

"Fuck yes," she gasps when you let her up for air. "Use me. Treat me like your slut." You push her back down and pick up the pace. Your hips roll up from the seat, driving your cock into her mouth while your hand controls the depth. Spit spills from the corners of her stretched lips, running down her chin, dripping onto her crop top. Her mascara starts to bleed at the corners of her eyes.

Then you switch. You pull Ning off and guide Shuhua down by the hair. She resists for half a second, startled by the rougher handling, then melts into it. You thrust into her mouth and she makes this sweet, overwhelmed sound, her eyes going wide and wet. You fuck her face slower than you did Ning's, giving her time to adjust, but you don't go easy. She doesn't want easy. You can tell from the way her hands keep drifting to her chest, squeezing her breasts lightly whenever she gets too worked up.

"Your dick feels so good in my mouth," Shuhua whispers when you give her a moment to breathe. Her usual elegance is slipping. Hair sticks to her lips, her cheeks are flushed, and every word sounds less put together than the last. "I didn't expect to enjoy it this much. It's so thick, it stretches my jaw so wide, and I just want to keep taking it."

"Then take it," you tell her, and she does. Shuhua sinks down on her own, swallowing as much of you as she can manage, and works her throat around you with a determination that borders on desperate.

You alternate between them. A dozen strokes into Ning's willing throat, then a dozen into Shuhua's eager mouth. Your hand switches between their heads, pulling, guiding, controlling the pace. Their makeup is slowly losing the fight. Ning's contour is smudged along her jawline now, and the gloss she'd put on earlier is long gone, leaving her lips puffy and messy. Shuhua's mascara has started to run beneath her eyes, creating dark crescents that weren't there before. Even her lip tint is smeared across her cheek now. The polished look both of them started with has completely fallen apart.

The pressure builds low and heavy in your stomach. Your balls tighten. The gummy's lingering effects make the orgasm feel enormous, swelling bigger than you can hold back. "I'm about to cum," you announce.

Ning pulls Shuhua off your cock and moves in front of you, kneeling on the floor of the backseat between your spread legs. She wraps her lips around the head and seals them tight, her hand pumping the shaft in fast, wet strokes. Her dark eyes look up at you, then at the camera, holding the gaze while she works you toward the edge.

You cum hard. The first pulse floods her mouth and she flinches, her cheeks bulging slightly before she swallows. More follows. Thick, heavy spurts that fill her faster than she can manage. Her throat works overtime but some of it escapes, leaking from the corners of her sealed lips and dripping down her chin. You keep cumming, pulse after pulse, the gummy ensuring that the load is obscene, far more than any normal session should produce. Her eyes water but she doesn't pull off. She takes everything you give her, her hand milking every last drop from your shaft.

When you finally stop throbbing, Ning pulls off slowly. She keeps her lips pressed tight together and turns to face the camera. She opens her mouth.

It's full. Completely full. Your cum pools on her tongue, thick and white, some of it already dripping from her lower lip. She tilts her head back slightly to show the camera, letting the load sit there, visible and obscene. Shuhua leans in close, her face next to Ning's. Ning cups Shuhua's chin and tilts her face up. Slowly she lets the cum dribble from her mouth into Shuhua's open lips. A thick strand stretches between them before breaking and landing on Shuhua's tongue.

Shuhua closes her mouth and swirls it, her expression somewhere between wonder and arousal. Then she leans toward Ning and passes it back, letting the cum slide from her lips into Ning's waiting mouth. They go back and forth, the load shrinking slightly with each transfer as they swallow bits of it, giggling between passes, their lips brushing together each time.

Finally, Ning swallows the last of it and pulls Shuhua in for a kiss. A real one. Deep and slow and wet, their tongues visible between their joined mouths, cum and saliva smearing across both their chins. They break apart and turn to face the camera with matching grins.

Ning winks at the lens. Shuhua blows a kiss.

Their faces are destroyed. Mascara tracking down their cheeks, lips swollen and smeared, chins dripping, hair tangled and damp. Ning's crop top is stained dark with spit. Shuhua's pale cheeks are flushed pink all the way to her ears. They look absolutely ruined and absolutely gorgeous.

Perfect content.

You stop recording. The car falls quiet except for their breathing and the distant sound of a car alarm somewhere in the structure. You hand the phone to Ning.

"Thanks," she says, already scrubbing through the footage. Her eyes move quickly, evaluating. "You did a great job filming. The angles are solid, you kept us in frame, the lighting caught everything. This is usable."

"I did the best I could."

"You succeeded." She watches a specific section again, the cumswapping part, and nods approvingly. "This is going to perform so well. The engagement on this will be insane."

You reach down and pull your pants back up, fastening your belt with slightly shaky fingers. "Well. I need to go now." You look between them. "It was a pleasure meeting you both. Genuinely."

Shuhua tucks a strand of damp hair behind her ear and smiles at you, still flushed, still catching her breath. "Thank you for your help. I mean it. You were very kind about the whole thing."

"Anytime." You open the car door and the cool air of the parking structure hits your face. You step out, legs a bit unsteady, and turn back to close the door.

Ning is watching you with a slight frown. She glances at Shuhua, saying, "It was a little too easy."

"What do you mean?"

"He wasn't surprised by the request. He wasn't overly excited about having two girls sucking his dick in my car. He treated the whole thing like it was just another day." She tilts her head. "That's weird, right? Most guys would be losing their minds right now."

Shuhua considers this for a moment. "Yeah, he was actually quite calm. Unusually calm. But maybe it all happened too fast and he didn't have time to process everything properly."

"Maybe," Ning says, not fully convinced. She shrugs and looks back at her phone. "Whatever. We better clean up. I still need to edit and post this before the trend peaks."

Shuhua reaches for the makeup kit. "Don't forget to tag me in the video."

"Obviously I'm tagging you. Your engagement feeds mine. It's mutually beneficial."

Shuhua rolls her eyes and smiles at the same time somehow. "Of course. Nothing says friendship like performance metrics.”

—

As usual for a weekend, Yunjin's living room is full. The girls have somehow claimed every inch of the giant L shaped couch, stretched out with their legs tangled together and their attention split between their phones and conversations happening in five directions at once. The TV's running in the background, ignored completely. Empty sushi containers crowd the coffee table beside abandoned wine glasses and Somi's energy drink.

Chaeyoung sits in Somi's lap with her back against Somi's chest, scrolling her phone while Somi braids a small section of her hair absentmindedly. Asa is cross legged on the floor cushion by the window, her laptop open, analytics dashboard visible. Ning occupies the armchair with her legs draped over one side, editing something on her phone. Shuhua sits upright at the end of the couch, both feet on the floor, posture perfect even at eleven at night.

Yunjin paces behind the couch in an oversized t shirt and shorts, wine glass in hand, narrating. "Final conclusion: Asa is winning," she announces, pointing at the screen Asa turns toward the group. "Obviously. She posted first, the algorithm favored her, the library setting was aesthetic, and her editing is annoyingly good. Twelve thousand likes and climbing. The comments are losing their minds."

"Thank you," Asa says simply.

"Second place is me." Yunjin grins with absolutely no humility. "As it should, honestly. I killed it and looked amazing doing it. Ning, put my video back on. Show them the ending.”

Ning taps the link and angles her phone so the group can see. The final thirty seconds of Yunjin's clip play on the small screen. The stage lighting, Yunjin's ruined face, and then the cumshot. The girls lean in and watch as rope after rope lands across Yunjin's cheeks, her forehead, her open mouth, her chin, her neck. It keeps going. And going. The volume of it is genuinely startling.

"What the actual fuck," Somi says, pausing mid braid.

"That's not real," Ning adds, rewinding and playing it again. "That can't be real. That's like a full minute of cum."

"It felt like a full minute," Yunjin confirms, swirling her wine. "My face was dripping. It got in my hair and I had to wash it three times."

Shuhua tilts her head, studying the footage with clinical interest. "I've genuinely never seen anyone produce that much. Is that medically normal?"

"He told me he had these gummy bears that act like some ridiculously overpowered aphrodisiac. Explains the massive cum loads. Pure genius." Yunjin takes a sip. "Look at those numbers. People are sharing that clip specifically because of the finish. The algorithm is pushing it."

Chaeyoung covers her eyes. "I can't watch it again. It's too much."

"You literally made out with Somi on camera with cum all over your face," Yunjin reminds her. "Don't get all puritan on me now."

"Watching and actually being part of it are two completely different things,” Chaeyoung replies.

By the way, their duo video is doing pretty well too. Somi's chaotic, aggressive energy mixed with Chaeyoung's softer vibe ended up creating this weirdly perfect contrast people are absolutely obsessed with. The comments are exactly what you'd expect: half thirsty, half completely unhinged. Which is apparently the dream outcome, even if Somi keeps pretending she never reads them. Ning and Shuhua's clip has the lowest numbers so far, but that's mostly because theirs went up last.

"My video's gonna do numbers too. Give it forty eight hours," Ning says, unbothered. "Late posts always start slower. Lower engagement upfront, longer lifespan after. Some big NSFW accounts already picked it up and are funneling people over.”

"You and your analytics," Yunjin mutters.

"My analytics pay my rent."

Asa closes her laptop and leans back against the wall. "Honestly? I think this worked out for everyone. The videos are getting attention, engagement's solid, and none of us got banned. That's good enough for me.”

For a few seconds, the room settles into this quiet, satisfied silence. Then Shuhua casually says, "It's the same guy."

Every head turns. Nobody says anything. Just several seconds of confused blinking until Ning finally asks: "What do you mean?"

Shuhua points at Ning's phone, which still has Yunjin's video paused on screen. "That cock. It's the same one in our video. Look at it. The size, the shape, the slight curve to the left. It's identical."

"No way," Yunjin says. "That's impossible."

"Play all the videos side by side," Shuhua insists. Asa immediately gets to work. A few quick movements later, all four clips are sitting side by side on the screen. She hits play.

The evidence is damning. The same thick shaft. The same slight leftward curve. The same heavy balls. The same pair of hands, same forearms, same skin. It's definitely the same person.

"Oh my god," Chaeyoung breathes.

"It's the same fucking guy," Somi says after a long silence. "How did six different people somehow land on the same nerd? There's no way that's statistically possible."

Ning gives a small shrug. "Shared good taste."

"This isn't funny."

"I'm not joking." Ning barely reacts. "He checked every box. He was available. Apparently very available."

Chaeyoung's face visibly crumples. She sinks lower into Somi's lap and hugs a pillow against herself. "We texted every day...I thought we had something going on.”

"Aw, Chae..." Somi murmurs softly, and her hands go back to braiding Chaeyoung's hair.

Yunjin lowers her wine glass onto the counter and looks around. "Okay, before anyone gets mad… I slept with him after.”

"You WHAT?" Somi sits up so fast that Chaeyoung nearly topples off her lap.

"His dick is amazing," Yunjin says, completely unapologetic. "I got hooked. We had sex for hours and I was about to schedule a second date. Sue me."

Chaeyoung's eyes are glassy. "I can't believe I was starting to fall for someone who was getting blowjobs from all my friends behind my back."

"Nobody knew anything," Asa says firmly. "That's the point. None of us coordinated. None of us told each other which guy we picked. We all approached him independently."

Shuhua folds her hands in her lap. "I asked him directly. When Ning and I found him in the park, I asked if any girl had ever approached him before with the same request. He told us no. That we were the first."

"That lying piece of shit," Somi hisses.

"Honestly?" Asa starts. "We can't judge him. Think about it. If we had known we were all using the same guy, we would have dropped him immediately. He saw an opportunity and he took it."

Shuhua nods. "It's somewhat fair when you consider the full picture. We used him for content and engagement. He used the situation for his own benefit. We're not really in a position to be angry."

"I'm in a position to be angry," Somi declares. Chaeyoung sniffles. Somi's hand moves from her hair to her back, rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades. "I warned you that you deserved better than him," she says.

Ning rolls her eyes from the armchair. "Please. It's not like she and him were dating. There was no exclusivity, no commitment, no cheating. She texted him for a few days. That's hardly a betrayal."

"It felt like something," Chaeyoung mumbles into the pillow.

Yunjin walks around the couch and stands in front of all of them. Her posture shifts, shoulders back, chin up, that specific energy she gets when a plan is forming behind her eyes. "We're all going out," she announces.

"Out where?" Asa asks.

"The mall. After hours. We're going to find him and we're going to settle this."

"Settle it how?" Shuhua inquires, politely but with clear suspicion.

"Chaeyoung, text him right now. Tell him to meet us." Yunjin pauses. "Actually, forget it. Let me handle this. I know how to persuade him."

Somi crosses her arms, careful not to dislodge Chaeyoung from her lap. "What exactly are you planning, Yunjin?"

Yunjin looks at her like the answer should be written on the ceiling. "Isn't it obvious? A fucking orgy. All six of us. One night. One guy. In the mall after closing."

Asa grins and laughs. “Girl, you’ve officially lost it.”

"Consider it a farewell orgy," Yunjin continues, pacing now, warming to the idea. "We get it out of our systems. All of us. Every last fantasy and curiosity and frustration. And after that, he's free. Completely free for Chaeyoung, if she still wants him. Clean slate."

Shuhua raises a finger. "Nobody is pursuing him. The only person who had sex with him outside of the challenge was you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Miss Dump-the-Lore. I'm horny and I want an orgy. Are you in or not?"

"Fuck it," Somi says. "This is my shot at getting even. I'm gonna destroy that dick. Brutally.”

Asa sets her laptop aside and stretches her arms above her head. "I'm in too. I'll admit it. I've been curious about what that thing feels like somewhere other than my throat."

Ning locks her phone and swings her legs off the armchair. "I'm in. I'm honestly curious to see how this drama's gonna end. Plus Amazon still hasn't delivered my new super vibrator, and rewatching all those clips got me horny as hell.”

Shuhua smooths her skirt over her knees, considering. "Since everyone else is going, I suppose I'll participate as well.

Everyone’s attention lands on Chaeyoung. She slowly raises her head from the pillow in Somi’s lap, pink-cheeked and blinking through damp lashes. “...Fine,” she says. “I’m in too. I want to feel that cock filling me, stretching my pussy open.” She glances down, embarrassed but honest. “I dreamed about it last night and woke up dripping.”

Then comes the collective murmur. Quiet gasps. Suppressed laughs. Multiple people making deeply judgmental mmm sounds at once. Chaeyoung lets out a tiny embarrassed laugh and hides behind her pillow again.

"Oh my god, shut up," she mumbles. "All of you, shut up, please.”

Yunjin claps her hands together so hard it echoes off the apartment walls. "Perfect! Up, everyone. Go get changed." She grabs her keys from the counter and points at the group. "And I hope every single one of you is on the pill, because things are going to get pretty fucking intense.”

—

The mall is nearly deserted when you get there. A handful of people drift toward the exits while janitors sweep through the empty walkways. The background music hums through the open space, weirdly loud without the usual crowd to drown it out. At the top of the escalator, you spot them right away. Six girls sitting around a table by the pretzel stand, looking way too good to be here for anything innocent. You know exactly what this is. You figured it out the second Yunjin texted you. The game’s up. And somehow, instead of feeling nervous, you feel completely calm. You stroll over with your hands in your pockets and pull up a chair.

"Hey girls," you say, sitting down and leaning back. "How are the videos going?"

Somi’s glare is intense enough to be considered a health hazard. Her arms are folded tightly, her expression hard, pure annoyance radiating off her in waves. Yunjin, on the other hand, looks almost entertained. She rests her chin in her hand and studies you with narrowed eyes.

“Wow,” she says. “You really had us all fooled, huh? Playing all six of us while acting like you didn’t know what was happening.”

You shrug. "You guys wanted to use me for content. I let you. Every single time. The fact that you all happened to pick the same guy isn't really my problem to solve."

Shuhua tilts her head. Those elegant features carry a trace of genuine hurt underneath the composure. "You lied to me. I asked you directly if anyone else had approached you, and you looked me in the eyes and said no."

"Yeah," you admit. No point denying it. "I did. But be honest, the video turned out great, didn't it? If you'd known I already filmed with four other girls, you would've found someone else, and maybe that someone else wouldn't have been half as good on camera."

Ning, who's been scrolling through engagement metrics on her phone this entire time, murmurs without looking up. "He has a point."

"Don't encourage him," Somi snaps.

Chaeyoung hasn't said much. She's sitting between Somi and Asa, picking at the sleeve of her sweater. When she finally glances up, her face is calm, but her eyes give her away. There’s hurt there, even if she’s trying to hide it.

"You were sleeping with Yunjin," she says quietly.

"This only happened once.”

Somi leans forward. "Chaeyoung likes you, you absolute idiot."

You meet Chaeyoung’s eyes and hold them. “Hey, I like you too. But we’ve been talking for less than a week” You spread your hands toward the table. “And I didn’t exactly know what to make of you yet. Mostly because, no offense…” You gesture at the others. “The people you’re surrounded by aren’t exactly screaming reliable.”

Asa slowly lowers her iced coffee onto the table. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean? Are you calling us sluts?”

“Asa, you literally called yourself a slut in the library. Those were your exact words.”

“Yeah, and when we say it, it’s empowering,” Asa shoots back smoothly. “It’s reclaiming the word. We're owning our choices, our bodies, and making money on our own terms. It’s about autonomy. What you’re doing is using it like an insult, which is a completely different thing.”

You raise your palms in surrender. "Fair enough. My bad. So why am I here? Are you gonna jump me in a food court? Beat me up behind a Cinnabon?"

Yunjin's smile spreads slow and dangerous. "Something like that. We do plan to break you. Just not in the way you're thinking." She pauses for effect, clearly enjoying herself. "We want to fuck you."

You blink. Then you lean back in the chair and let out a long breath through your nose. “Oh.” You nod once. “Yeah. Okay. That probably should’ve been my first guess.” Your eyes find Chaeyoung again. "Are you okay with this?"

She gives a small shrug that's trying very hard to look casual. "Why wouldn't I be? You're not my boyfriend or anything."

“For the record,” you say, tone shifting into something more genuine, “I’ve actually really liked talking to you. The late-night texts, the movie recs, all of it. I’d like that to keep being a thing. No matter what happens tonight.”

Chaeyoung watches you for a second, searching your face. Then a small smile tugs at her lips. “If you make me cum hard enough,” she says lightly, “I might hear your case.”

Somi snorts. Ning grins.

"I don't think I deserve to be put on trial here when I didn't actually do anything wrong," you reply. "But fine. Challenge accepted."

Ning tucks her phone into her purse and claps once. "Okay, okay, enough with the romance subplot. How exactly are we doing this? Logistics. Where, when, how."

You look around the emptying food court. "You're not seriously planning to do this here. In the mall."

Yunjin spreads her arms wide. "We've already filmed blowjobs in a library, a classroom, a theater, and a car. What's a mall?"

"The difference is we could get caught and arrested. All seven of us. Public indecency. That goes on a record."

Asa sets her iced coffee down like she’s been waiting for the perfect moment to speak. She clears her throat and begins: “The mall closes in twenty minutes. After that, security drops to basically nothing. One guard for the whole building, and he usually camps out by the loading dock on the north side.”

Everyone turns to stare at her.

Completely unfazed, she keeps going: “I know a girl who works at the mattress store on the first floor. SleepHaven, over by the west corridor. She told me that whole section had all its security cameras taken down for replacement this morning, and the install crew never showed. No cameras until at least Monday.” She takes a casual sip of her coffee. “I’ll head down now, ask to use the restroom, pretend to leave, then hide in there until they lock up. The bathroom lock’s been broken for weeks, so there’s no chance of getting stuck. Once the store’s closed and everyone’s gone, I’ll open the front gate from the inside and let you all in.”

Silence around the table. Shuhua exhales slowly. "So either this is going to be the best sex any of us have ever had, or we get arrested, end up on the local news, and our lives are effectively over."

Yunjin grins so wide it's almost manic. "Both of those outcomes sound pretty great to me. Let's go."

Chaeyoung shifts nervously in her seat. Ning puts a hand on her knee under the table. "Relax. Think about that huge cock that's about to be inside you. Focus on the positives."

"I'm literally right here," you say.

Ning just smirks at you. Doesn't say a word. Shuhua stands up and smooths down her skirt. "Fine. Let's go to the first floor. Split up. Move separately. Stay away from any active camera zones. We'll reconvene at the restrooms near the west corridor."

And that's how you end up locked in a mall bathroom stall at eleven thirty on a Saturday night, sitting on a closed toilet lid, scrolling through your phone while the building goes quiet around you. The lights in the corridor outside dim to half power. The muzak cuts off. You hear the distant rumble of security gates being pulled down over storefronts.

Forty minutes pass. Your phone buzzes. Yunjin's text reads:

on our way. going separately. be careful

You crack the stall door open and listen. Nothing. You slip out of the restroom and into the corridor. The first floor is eerie with most of the lights off, storefronts shuttered behind metal gates, the air conditioning humming low. Your sneakers barely make a sound on the polished floor. When you reach SleepHaven, five silhouettes are already gathered outside the gate. Asa's face appears behind the glass a moment later. She fiddles with something, and the front gate slides open just enough for everyone to duck under.

You file in one by one. Asa pulls the gate back down behind you. Yunjin doesn't waste a second. She kicks off her shoes and throws herself backward onto a king size display mattress near the front.

"The universe loves me. An orgy in a mattress store. This is genuinely the greatest night of my life."

Asa hisses at her immediately. "Keep it down. And we can't do this out here, anyone walking by the storefront might overhear. Grab a mattress, take it to the back area behind the counter. There are pillars back there, it's more concealed."

They end up choosing a queen-size display bed that’s already dressed in spotless sheets and looks ridiculously high-end. You grab one end, Somi grabs the other, and together you haul it behind the service counter to the back section of the store. Yunjin surveys the setup and nods approvingly. "This is actually perfect. Way better than I expected."

Shuhua is running her hand along the sheets. "This is a three thousand dollar mattress. Egyptian cotton sheets. If we're going to commit a felony, at least we're doing it in luxury."

"Okay," you say, standing at the edge of the mattress. "I'm going to be honest. I have absolutely no idea how this works. I've never done anything like this before."

Somi steps forward. She puts one hand flat on your chest and pushes. Hard. You lose your balance and fall backward onto the mattress, the expensive sheets puffing up around you. "Lie down," Somi orders, looking down at you. "And leave the rest to us."

You look up at the six girls standing over you and grin, sinking deeper into the mattress. “Alright then,” you say. “I’m at your service.”

There’s no drawn-out moment to it. Everyone just starts undressing. Yunjin finishes pulling off the top she’d already loosened earlier and casually flings it behind the counter. Somi pops her bra loose with one hand while kicking off her jeans. Ning pauses long enough to fold her skirt perfectly before setting it aside. Chaeyoung turns a little as she slips out of her bra, clearly self-conscious, while Asa strips down with the detached efficiency of someone changing after class. Shuhua carefully unbuttons her blouse, smoothing it flat over a nearby pillow.

You pull your shirt over your head, shove your jeans and boxers down, and your cock springs free. Already half hard from the sheer visual assault of six naked women in a dimly lit mattress store.

Yunjin goes first, exactly as everyone expected. She swings herself over your lap, straddling your hips as the mattress dips beneath her knees. Then she leans in and claims your mouth without warning, her tongue sliding past your lips like she’s not interested in asking permission. There’s nothing tentative about it. She kisses hard and deep, all heat and confidence. Her hand snakes down between your bodies, gripping your cock and stroking until you’re fully hard under her touch. Then she guides you lower, dragging the tip through her soaked folds until it catches at her entrance.

"God, I'll literally never get tired of this," Yunjin breathes against your lips. "The way you stretch me open. It's so fucking good every single time." She sinks down. Slow. Taking inch after inch until her ass meets your thighs and she's fully seated with your entire length buried inside her. Her walls grip you tight, clenching, adjusting. Her head tips back and her mouth falls open.

Then Somi is there. Standing over you, looking down at your face with that cold, mean expression she wears so well.

"Alright," she says, one leg swinging over your head. "Let's put that tongue to work. See if it's actually good for anything besides lying to people."

She lowers herself onto your mouth. Her pussy presses against your lips, wet and warm, her thighs framing your face. She's facing Yunjin, their knees almost touching on either side of your body. You flatten your tongue and drag it through her folds, tasting her, finding her clit and circling it. Somi's thighs twitch.

"Don't be gentle about it," she tells you, grinding down harder. "You owe me."

To your left, Ning takes Chaeyoung's hand. "C'mon babe, lie down," she murmurs. "We're not just gonna stand here watching."

Chaeyoung settles onto the mattress beside you, on her back, her dark hair fanning out across the white sheets. Ning crawls between her legs, pushes her thighs apart, and dips her head. Chaeyoung gasps when Ning's tongue touches her, her back arching slightly off the mattress.

Behind Ning, Asa kneels. With Ning on all fours, her ass presented perfectly, Asa spreads her cheeks with both hands and buries her face between them. Her tongue drags from Ning's clit all the way back, slow and thorough, circling her asshole before dipping back down to her pussy. Ning moans into Chaeyoung, the vibration making Chaeyoung whimper. Shuhua watches. She's standing beside the mattress, one hand between her own legs, fingers sliding through her wetness as she takes in the scene. Her eyes are locked on where Yunjin's body meets yours, watching your cock disappear inside her with each roll of her hips.

Yunjin notices. She reaches out with one hand, hooks it behind Shuhua's neck, and pulls her in for a kiss. Shuhua leans into it, her fingers working faster between her thighs while Yunjin's tongue slides against hers.

Yunjin breaks the kiss and looks back at Somi. "Fuck, your tits look so good from here," she says, openly staring at the way Somi's chest bounces with each shift of her hips against your face. "So fucking hot, seriously."

"I know," Somi responds, not even slightly humble about it. She rolls her hips forward, smearing herself across your mouth. "Deeper. Get your tongue inside me."

You push your tongue into her, as deep as it'll go, and she grinds down on it. Her full weight presses against your face, and breathing becomes genuinely difficult. Your nose is pressed against her clit, your mouth completely covered by her pussy. She's suffocating you and she knows it and she doesn't care.

It’s heaven. You’d die smiling buried in her ass.

Yunjin picks up her pace on top of you. She plants her hands on your chest and starts really riding, lifting her hips until just the tip remains inside before dropping back down with her full weight. Each time she takes you to the root, her breath hitches, her nails dig into your skin. Your cock is coated in her arousal, glistening every time she rises.

"You feel so deep like this," Yunjin groans, rolling her hips in a circle before slamming back down. "I swear you're in my fucking stomach right now."

Somi reaches forward and grabs one of Yunjin's tits, squeezing roughly. "Ride him harder. I wanna feel him moan into me when you do it." Yunjin laughs breathlessly and complies. She speeds up, the wet sound of skin meeting skin filling the dark store. Every time she bottoms out, your hips jerk involuntarily, and Somi feels the moan travel through your tongue directly into her cunt. She bites her lip, satisfied.

To your left, Chaeyoung is squirming under Ning's mouth. Her fingers are tangled in Ning's hair, pulling gently, her chest heaving. "Right there, Ning, don't stop, fuck, please don't stop."

Ning hums in acknowledgment, then gasps herself as Asa's tongue pushes inside her ass. Her back dips, pushing her hips back against Asa's face, seeking more.

"Asa, that feels insane," Ning mumbles between Chaeyoung's legs. "Do that again." Asa doesn't respond verbally. She just grips Ning's hips tighter and keeps going, alternating between her holes with a precision that has Ning trembling on her knees.

Shuhua pulls away from kissing Yunjin and kneels beside the mattress, still touching herself. “Yunjin, if I may say so, you look exceptionally pretty taking that cock,” says softly, and even her dirty talk sounds polished somehow. “The way it stretches you is... deeply impressive.”

"Shu, babe, it's unreal," Yunjin responds between bounces. "His dick is literally ruining me for everyone else. That's not even a joke. No one else is ever gonna measure up."

Somi grabs the back of your head with one hand, lifting it slightly, pressing you harder against her. Your tongue aches from the effort but you keep going, sucking her clit between your lips, flicking it rapidly. Her thighs are shaking now. "Shit," Somi breathes. "Okay, maybe your mouth isn't completely useless."

Yunjin's rhythm becomes erratic. She's chasing it now, grinding her clit against your pelvis with each downstroke, her walls clenching tighter around you. Her moans get louder, less controlled. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum," she pants. "Your cock is so deep, I can feel it everywhere, I'm literally about to lose it."

She slams down one final time and holds there, grinding in tight circles. Her whole body seizes, thighs clamping against your sides, her pussy spasming around your shaft in rhythmic pulses. She throws her head back and her mouth opens in a silent scream before the sound catches up, a long, shuddering moan that echoes off the store walls. Somi watches Yunjin cum and something about it tips her over the edge too. Her thighs slam shut around your head, trapping you completely, her hips bucking against your mouth in short, sharp jerks.

"Don't you dare stop," she hisses through her teeth, one hand braced on Yunjin's shoulder. Her whole body goes rigid for three seconds, then she comes apart, grinding down on your tongue through it, her slick flooding your lips and chin. Her legs tremble violently on either side of your head before she finally loosens her grip and you gasp for air.

They both climb off. Your face is drenched, Somi's arousal smeared from your forehead to your chin. Your cock is still hard, still throbbing, slick with Yunjin's cum.

Yunjin collapses onto the edge of the mattress, spent and grinning. "Okay. Who's next."

Chaeyoung sits up. Her cheeks are flushed from whatever Ning was doing to her moments ago, her eyes bright. "Me!"

The other girls shift, making room. Ning wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Asa sits back on her heels. You pull yourself upright and move toward Chaeyoung, settling between her legs as she lies back down. You look down at her. She looks up at you. In the dim glow of the emergency lights, her face is soft and beautiful and a little nervous.

You smile softly. “Hey.”

She meets it with a little smile of her own. “Hey.”

"I'm gonna go slow," you tell her quietly. Just for her. "You tell me to stop whenever you need me to." She nods, her hand finding yours on the sheet and squeezing gently.

You guide yourself to Chaeyoung's entrance and press forward. Just the tip at first, barely pushing in, letting her feel the stretch before you commit. Her eyes go wide, her lips parting, fingers curling into the sheets beneath her. "Oh my god," she whispers, staring up at you. "That's just the beginning?"

"Just the beginning," you confirm, and push another inch inside her.

Behind you, the mattress shifts as everyone else finds their positions. Yunjin grabs Shuhua by the waist and pulls her close, tangling their legs together until their pussies press flush against each other. Yunjin starts grinding immediately, rolling her hips in slow, lazy circles, her wetness mixing with Shuhua's. A few feet away, Ning swings a leg over Asa's face and settles down, her knees bracketing Asa's head. Asa's hands come up to grip Ning's thighs and she gets to work without being asked. Somi kneels between Asa's spread legs, slides two fingers inside her, and starts pumping with a casual, almost bored efficiency that makes it clear she's done this before.

You sink deeper into Chaeyoung. She grabs your forearm, squeezing hard, her back lifting off the mattress. You stop halfway and let her breathe. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just... give me a sec. You're really thick." She exhales slowly, her walls fluttering around you, adjusting. Then she nods. "Keep going." You push the rest of the way in. All of it. Chaeyoung's mouth falls open and no sound comes out for a solid three seconds. Then she lets out this shaky, overwhelmed little moan that makes Yunjin glance over from her scissoring position and grin.

"There it is," Yunjin says approvingly, grinding harder against Shuhua. "That's the face. I made that exact same face my first time with him."

You pull back slowly and thrust in again, building a gentle rhythm. Chaeyoung's hands find your shoulders, pulling you down closer. You lean in and kiss her, soft and deep, and she melts into it. When you pull back, she's smiling.

"You taste like Somi," she murmurs against your lips.

"Bet that's a taste you know pretty well."

Chaeyoung's cheeks flush even darker. "Maybe."

Somi doesn't even look up from fingering Asa. "I heard that. And yes, she does."

Ning laughs from her perch on Asa's face, then cuts herself off with a sharp gasp when Asa does something particularly good with her tongue. "Fuck, Asa, what are you doing down there? That's so good, keep doing that."

Asa can't respond because her mouth is full of Ning's pussy, but she gives a thumbs up with one hand, which makes Shuhua giggle breathlessly from where she's grinding against Yunjin.

"This is genuinely the most unhinged thing I've ever participated in," Shuhua manages between heavy breaths, her hips moving in rhythm with Yunjin's. "And I'm including the time Ning convinced me to skinny dip at that resort."

"Shu, babe, this is so much better than skinny dipping," Yunjin replies, reaching down to adjust the angle of their hips so their clits press together more directly. Shuhua whimpers at the change in pressure. "This is like... peak friendship activities right here."

You pick up the pace with Chaeyoung. She wraps her legs around your waist, locking her ankles behind your back, and the new angle lets you go deeper. Her nails rake down your shoulders. "Right there," she breathes. "Oh god, right there, don't move from that spot."

"Chae's getting loud," Somi observes, curling her fingers inside Asa and making her jolt. "I love that for her honestly."

"She deserves it," Ning says, then rolls her hips against Asa's mouth, chasing the sensation. "After all those sad little crushes she's had? Let the girl have her moment."

"Can you guys stop talking about me while I'm getting fucked, please," Chaeyoung says, but she's laughing, and then the laugh dissolves into a moan when you thrust particularly deep.

Yunjin is sweating. They're all sweating. The store has no ventilation running this late, and the combined body heat of seven people fucking on a three thousand dollar mattress has turned the back area into a sauna. Skin glistens under the dim emergency lighting. The sounds are obscene and layered: wet skin, heavy breathing, Ning's sharp little gasps mixing with Shuhua's softer ones, the rhythmic slap of your hips meeting Chaeyoung's.

Somi adds a third finger inside Asa, stretching her, and Asa's hips buck off the mattress. Ning grabs Somi's shoulder to keep her balance. "Warn me before you do that, she almost threw me off."

"Not my fault Asa's a squirmer," Somi says, pumping faster. "You good down there, Asa?"

Asa pulls her mouth away from Ning just long enough to gasp, "So fucking good, oh my god, keep going,” before Ning pushes her head back down.

"Nope, you're not done," Ning tells her sweetly.

You shift your weight onto one arm and bring your free hand down between your body and Chaeyoung's. Your thumb finds her clit, swollen and sensitive, and you start rubbing in slow circles while you fuck her. The effect is instantaneous. Chaeyoung's whole body tenses, her grip on your shoulders turning desperate.

"Oh fuck," she gasps. "Oh fuck, that's not fair, you can't do both at the same time."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm gonna lose my mind, that's why." Her hips are grinding up to meet yours now, matching your rhythm, trying to get more of everything at once. "Your cock is literally splitting me open and now you're touching my clit and I can't, I actually can't—"

Yunjin, still grinding against Shuhua, looks over with pure delight on her face. "She's gonna blow. Look at her legs shaking."

Ning is rocking faster on Asa's face, she grabs her own breast, squeezing, her head tipping back. "Shit, I'm close too. Asa, please, keep going, I'm so close, I'm gonna cum so hard."

You press harder on Chaeyoung's clit, rubbing faster, your hips snapping into her with deep, steady strokes. She's clenching around you so tight it's almost difficult to move. Her moans have gone high and thin, her eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in her body coiling. "Look at me," you tell her quietly. She opens her eyes. They're glassy, overwhelmed, gorgeous. "Cum for me, Chae."

She shatters. Her back arches completely off the mattress, her legs lock around you, and her pussy clamps down on your cock in hard, rhythmic spasms. And then the gush comes. Warm and sudden, soaking your pelvis, the sheets beneath her, running down your thighs. She's squirting, hard, her whole body convulsing with it.

Yunjin's jaw drops mid grind. "Holy shit, she's squirting! She's literally squirting all over that poor mattress!"

The sight of it pushes Ning over. She grinds down on Asa's mouth one final time and cums, her thighs clamping around Asa's head, her fingers digging into Somi's shoulder hard. Asa cums seconds later from Somi's relentless fingers, her legs trembling and her muffled moans vibrating against Ning's cunt. Shuhua follows, burying her face in Yunjin's neck, flushed and panting, her hips stuttering through the last waves of her orgasm.

Somi pulls her fingers out of Asa, holds them up, glistening and dripping, and licks them clean with a look of pure satisfaction.

Chaeyoung is still trembling beneath you, aftershocks rolling through her. "I'm so sorry," she pants, looking down at the soaked sheets. "I came so hard. I couldn't help it. I've never done that before."

"Don't you dare apologize for squirting," Yunjin says firmly, wiping sweat from her forehead. "That was the hottest thing you could have possibly done."

Somi nods. "We'll deal with the mattress situation later. Not important right now."

"Agreed," Ning says, climbing off Asa's face and stretching. Her legs are still wobbly. She looks at your cock, still hard, still wet with Chaeyoung's cum, and her eyes sharpen with hunger. "Because I need that inside me right now. Immediately."

Yunjin sits up, her director energy returning. "Okay then. Asa, Ning, Shu. Line up. On all fours. Show us these pretty pussies." The three of them arrange themselves side by side on the mattress, knees spread, backs arched, asses presented. Asa, Ning, Shuhua. Three different body types, three different skin tones, all of them glistening with sweat and each other's spit.

Yunjin beckons you over. "Come fuck these little sluts, nerd.”

Somi circles around to the front of the lineup, taking her time as she studies them from the other side. Her gaze drifts over the three bent bodies, the way they’re all presented for you, and then she reaches out without warning and gives Shuhua’s ass a sharp smack. She jolts with a startled yelp, shooting Somi a scandalized look.

“Hey! Warn me before you start getting handsy.”

Somi only grins, entirely unbothered, then turns that wicked little expression on you. "Look at them. Three tight little pussies all lined up just for you. How's that feel?”

You stare at the three of them, each one looking back over her shoulder at you, waiting. Your cock throbs. "I genuinely cannot put what I'm feeling into words.”

Yunjin snorts, arms crossed. "Then stop trying to put it into words and start putting your cock in them. That's the only language they need right now.”

Asa, her ass arched perfectly, her cheek resting on her folded arms, glances back at Yunjin with a lazy grin. "Wow. Shakespeare could never.”

Yunjin kneels beside Shuhua and grabs both her cheeks, spreading them open with her thumbs, putting everything on display for you. Shuhua's pussy is glistening, swollen, absolutely dripping from her earlier orgasm and the continued arousal of watching everyone else get fucked.

"C'mon," she says, looking up at you with that insatiable grin. "Time to fuck."

There’s no teasing pause. You guide yourself against her and push in. The head breaches Shuhua's entrance and she immediately drops her forehead to the mattress, her fingers clawing at the sheets. You stop with just the tip inside, letting her adjust. Her walls are squeezing you so tight it's almost resistance. "Oh," Shuhua breathes. "Oh, that's... that is significantly larger than I anticipated."

Ning, still on all fours beside her, glances over. "Girl, breathe. You'll get used to it."

"Easy for you to say, you haven't taken it yet," Shuhua replies through gritted teeth, but she pushes her hips back slightly, taking another inch on her own terms. You grip her hips and feed her more, slow, steady. Shuhua's spine curves downward, her shoulder blades pinching together. When you're about three quarters in, she lets out this long, shaking exhale.

"I've used large toys before," she says, almost conversationally despite the strain in her tone. "This doesn't even compare. The heat, the way it throbs. It's completely different."

"You doing okay?" you ask, rubbing your thumb along her hip bone.

"More than okay. Please keep going." You bottom out inside her and Shuhua makes a sound you've never heard from her before. Something between a whimper and a laugh, surprised and overwhelmed and deeply pleased all at once. You start moving, pulling back slow and pushing in deep, establishing a rhythm that lets her feel every inch.

On the other end of the mattress, Somi has pulled Chaeyoung into her lap. They're kissing, messy and unhurried, Somi's hands tangled in Chaeyoung's hair. Somi breaks away and licks her lower lip.

"You were so fucking hot squirting like that," Somi murmurs against Chaeyoung's mouth. "I almost came just watching you." Chaeyoung blushes but grins. Her hand traces down Somi's stomach, over her navel, and slips between her thighs. She pushes two fingers inside Somi without warning. Somi gasps, her hips jerking forward. "Shit, Chae, warn a girl."

"You didn't warn me when you shoved my face down on his cock," Chaeyoung replies sweetly, curling her fingers.

Somi's head tips back. "Okay fair. Fuck. Keep going, baby. Finger that wet pussy while I watch them get wrecked."

You're building speed inside Shuhua now. Her initial tension has dissolved into pure pleasure, her hips rocking back to meet your thrusts. Yunjin hasn't moved from her spot beside the lineup. She leans in and spits directly on where your cock meets Shuhua's pussy, the saliva mixing with the mess already there.

"That's it," Yunjin says, watching with dark, hungry eyes. "Fuck her good. Look at how well she takes it now."

"Yunjin," Shuhua manages, "please stop narrating and let me enjoy this."

"Never. This is the best show I've ever seen."

You pull out of Shuhua and she whines at the loss. Ning is next. You shift over, position yourself behind her, and push in. Ning is wetter than Shuhua was, practically dripping down her thighs already, but she's just as tight. The first few inches make her gasp and grab the mattress. "Fuck me," Ning breathes. "Okay. Okay I get it now. I get why Yunjin lost her mind over this."

"Right?" Yunjin says proudly. "Told you." You sink deeper and Ning's arms give out. Her chest presses flat against the mattress, ass still raised, and you can feel her clenching around you, her body trying to accommodate the stretch. You give her a moment, then start thrusting. Ning buries her face in her arms and moans.

Yunjin spits on Ning's pussy too, then smacks her ass lightly. "Take that dick, Ning. You were bragging about your skills all week, show me you can handle it."

"I am handling it," Ning says, except she very clearly isn't. Her voice is trembling. "It's just... a lot. God, it's so much."

Across the mattress, Chaeyoung has migrated lower. She's got her mouth on Somi's left breast, sucking the nipple between her lips while her fingers keep working inside her. Somi watches her with hooded eyes, one hand on the back of Chaeyoung's head.

"I love your tits so much," Chaeyoung mumbles against the soft skin, switching to the other one. "They're ridiculous. Like genuinely unfair."

"Babe, you can have them whenever you want," Somi replies, arching into her mouth. "Just keep doing what you're doing with those fingers."

You pull out of Ning and move to Asa. She's been waiting patiently, her cheek resting on her folded arms, watching you fuck the other two with analytical interest. When you press against her entrance, she pushes back immediately, trying to take you in one motion. But her body resists. She only gets halfway before she hisses and stops.

"Shit," Asa says, surprised. "I thought I was ready. That's thicker than it looks."

"Take your time."

"No, just push. I can handle it." You push. Asa's fingers curl into fists and she breathes out hard through her nose, but she doesn't tell you to stop. When you're fully seated inside her, she lets out a low groan that sounds almost relieved. "Okay," she says. "Yeah. That's incredible actually."

You start fucking her, and Asa is different from the other two. She pushes back to meet every thrust, matches your rhythm instantly, treats it almost like a collaboration. Her pussy grips you perfectly, slick and hot and eager.

Yunjin is in her element. She moves between the three of them, spitting on each pussy as you rotate, slapping asses, gripping hair, running her nails down their spines. She's the conductor of this whole symphony and she's loving every second.

"Look at them," she says to you, spreading Asa's cheeks so you can watch yourself slide in and out. "Look at how they take that fat cock. They're soaking. All three of them are dripping for you."

You switch back to Shuhua. She cries out when you enter her again, pushing back greedily. Then to Ning, who's so wet now that the sounds are obscene, filthy and loud in the quiet store. Then Asa again, who grinds back against you with precision.

Yunjin crouches next to Ning's face and lifts her chin. "You like getting fucked like this? Getting shared? All three of you lined up like good little sluts?" Ning just moans in response, her eyes glassy. "If I'd brought my strap we could've been double teaming these pussies," she continues, looking back at you. "Next time. Definitely next time. Me and you, fucking them from both ends."

Somi pulls Chaeyoung's mouth off her breast to watch. "They look so good from here. Especially Shuhua. She's completely gone."

Chaeyoung nods, her fingers still buried inside Somi, pumping steadily. "She's always so put together. It's nice seeing her fall apart."

You keep rotating. Shuhua cums first. You're deep inside her, one hand on her hip, the other gripping her shoulder, and she turns her face to the side so you can see her expression when it hits. Her eyes flutter shut, her mouth opens, and she comes apart in these beautiful, controlled waves, her pussy milking your cock through each contraction. Somehow even this is elegant.

Asa goes next. You're gripping her waist, pounding into her at a pace she set herself, and her head drops forward. "There, there, fuck, right there, I'm cumming," she whispers, and her whole body seizes. Her walls clamp down so hard it almost stops your movement. She shakes through it, silent except for these tiny, breathy sounds.

Ning is last. You're still inside Asa when Yunjin says, "Ning needs to cum. Go wreck her." You pull out of Asa and push into Ning. She's so sensitive at this point that she flinches at the first thrust. Yunjin grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her head back. "Grab her hair," Yunjin tells you. "Fuck her hard. She can take it."

You wrap Ning's hair around your fist and pull. She gasps, her back arching severely. You start pounding into her. Hard. Deep. Relentless. Ning's moans escalate rapidly into something approaching a scream.

"Ning!" Shuhua hisses sharply. "The security guard. Keep it down."

Ning slaps her own hand over her mouth, her eyes wide, her body jolting with each thrust.

The muffled sounds leaking through her fingers are still loud but contained. You don't stop. You fuck her through it, pulling her hair, driving into her until her thighs start shaking violently and she cums with a strangled sound behind her palm, her pussy contracting around you in hard, rhythmic squeezes. Her entire body goes limp when it passes, collapsing flat onto the mattress.

You pull out, wipe the sweat from your forehead, and sit back on your heels. Your cock is glistening, impossibly hard still, twitching against your stomach. "That was insane," you pant, looking at the three spent girls in front of you. "Seriously. I don't know how guys in porn last this long. My legs are shaking."

"Well," Somi says, extracting herself from Chaeyoung's fingers and crawling toward you. "You better hold on a little longer. Because now it's my turn."

She pushes you flat on your back. You hit the mattress with a grunt. Somi swings a leg over your hips, but instead of facing you normally, she plants her feet on either side of your chest, squatting over your cock in a deep stance. Her thighs flex, her core engages, and she grips the base of your shaft to line you up.

Yunjin slaps the mattress with both hands. "Yes! Amazon position! Go for it, Somi, ride that cock!"

Ning, still flat on her stomach recovering, lifts her head long enough to whistle. Shuhua immediately makes a sharp shushing sound at her, eyes wide.

Somi stares down at you, face unreadable except for that familiar look of mild annoyance she somehow manages to make attractive. Calm. Detached. In control. "Let's see what all the fuss is about," she says. "Everyone else completely lost their shit over this. I don't buy it.”

She lowers herself onto you. Inch by agonizing inch. In this position, squatting over you with her feet planted on either side of your chest, Somi controls everything. The angle, the depth, the speed. You can't thrust up, can't grab her hips, can't do anything except lie there and take what she decides to give you. Your cock stretches her open and you watch her face. She's fighting. Every micro expression is a battle between the pleasure flooding her body and the icy composure she refuses to drop, even as her jaw tightens and her breathing starts to lose its rhythm. Her thighs tremble as she sinks lower, swallowing more of you inside her, her pussy spreading around your girth.

She stops about halfway. Breathes. Then pushes down the rest of the way until her ass meets your pelvis and every inch of you is buried in her. Her eyes close for exactly one second. When they open again, she's rearranged her expression into something cool and unaffected.

"Okay," she says, looking down at you. "I'll give you this much. It's a pretty impressive cock." She shifts her hips, adjusting to the fullness, and you feel her walls squeeze around you involuntarily. "Real waste that it belongs to someone like you, though."

"Sorry about that," you reply, your breath catching as she clenches again. "I'll try to be hotter next time."

"Shut up. Don't talk. Just lie there and let me use you like the stupid little toy you are."

Somi starts moving. Slowly at first. She lifts her hips until barely anything remains, pauses for a second, then sinks back down with controlled force. The impact sends a sharp jolt through you. Then she does it again. And again. Gradually settling into a rhythm she seems satisfied with. Her pussy grips your shaft on every upstroke, wet and impossibly tight, then swallows you whole on the way back down.

The view from below is staggering. Somi's body is built for this. Her slim waist, her toned stomach flexing with each movement, and those massive breasts bouncing with every drop of her hips. They move almost independently, heavy and full, swaying and colliding against each other. Sweat is beginning to bead along her collarbones, rolling down between them.

Yunjin sits cross legged on the mattress, watching with her chin propped on her fist. "Okay, she looks fucking incredible doing that. Like, objectively."

Ning nods slowly, still recovering from her own orgasm, lying on her stomach with her chin in her hands. "It's giving professional athlete. The core strength alone."

"Seriously though," Asa adds, tilting her head to study Somi's form. "Look at the control she has. She's basically doing weighted squats right now. That's genuinely impressive."

Shuhua watches from beside Yunjin. "If I tried to do that, I would absolutely injure my lower back."

Asa glances at her. "That's because you used to walk around with your spine curved like a shrimp, Shu. You have the posture of someone who's been gaming for twelve hours straight. You only realized because Yunjin took that cursed picture of you.”

Yunjin barks out a laugh. Shuhua's mouth falls open. "That was truly offensive," Shuhua says quietly. "And for the record, I'm fixing it. My posture's good now. I bought a posture corrector and everything."

"Girl, that thing is still in the packaging on your desk," Ning says without looking up.

Somi ignores all of them. She's locked into her rhythm now, bouncing on your cock with increasing intensity, her hands braced on your chest for leverage. Each time she drops down, the sound of skin meeting skin is sharp and wet. Your hands are flat on the mattress because she hasn't given you permission to touch her, and somehow that makes it hotter. She's using you. Completely and totally.

Somi looks down at you, and her mouth curls into something between a smirk and a sneer. "God, you're adorable like this." She rolls her hips in a filthy slow circle, grinding your cock deep before picking her rhythm back up. "Pinned under me. Dumb and hard and just letting me take what I want. Like a good little fucktoy."

"View's pretty good from here too," you breathe, barely getting the words out while her cunt grips you on every drop.

"Yeah?" She lifts almost all the way off, just the tip, then slams her hips down so hard your vision whites out. "Nnngh— you like this? Like getting fucked stupid by a girl who doesn't give a shit if you cum? Just lying there taking it like an obedient little bitch?"

"Yes," you groan, hands fisting the sheets. "Fuck— yes, I like it.”

"Of course you do." She picks up speed, and the wet sounds get louder, filthier. Her breasts are bouncing so hard they're practically hitting her chin on every drop. "This is where you belong. On your back, getting used. You should be thanking me."

Yunjin starts clapping rhythmically, like she's at a sporting event. "Let's go Somi! Ride that dick! Let's go Somi!"

Ning immediately joins in, clapping along. "Bounce bounce bounce! Wreck that cock!"

Asa cups her hands around her mouth. "Give me an S! Give me an O! Give me an M!" Give me am I!”

Chaeyoung is giggling uncontrollably, clapping along with them.

Shuhua's eyes go wide. "Can you all please be quieter? There is a security guard somewhere in this building." They all drop to stage whispers, still clapping, still chanting, but at a fraction of the volume. Yunjin is whisper screaming "let's go Somi" with the intensity of a soccer mom at a championship game. Ning is doing quiet finger snaps. Asa is mouthing the letters of Somi's name with exaggerated lip movements.

Somi doesn't acknowledge any of them. She's grinding now, deep and circular, her clit pressing hard against your pelvis on every rotation. Her breathing has changed. Shorter. Sharper. That icy control is fracturing. You can see it in the way her thighs are shaking, the way her nails are digging into your chest, the way she keeps biting the inside of her cheek.

She speeds up again. Full bounces, slamming herself down, taking you to the root every time. Your cock is drenched in her, glistening in the low light. The mattress creaks beneath you. She tilts forward slightly, changing the angle, and her mouth opens in a silent gasp that she immediately tries to suppress.

"Fuck," she whispers. “Fuck…” She grinds down hard, circling her hips, pressing her clit against you with desperate pressure. Her thighs clamp around your sides. Her head drops forward, blonde hair curtaining her face, and her whole body locks up. You feel her pussy spasm around you in tight, rhythmic contractions, milking your shaft as the orgasm rolls through her. She grinds through every wave of it, extracting every last second, her hips stuttering and her breath coming in these ragged, broken exhales she can't quite control.

When it passes, she stays seated on you for a long moment. Still full of you. Catching her breath. Then she rises slowly, your cock sliding out of her with a wet, obscene sound, and she climbs off the mattress on slightly unsteady legs.

Somi rakes her fingers through her hair and gives you this perfectly curated look of mild disinterest. "Your dick's... fine. Nothing I couldn't replace with a ten-minute Amazon order.”

Yunjin snorts so hard she almost chokes. "Please. Even you don't believe that. I saw your legs shaking, Somi."

Somi's cheeks flush hot. "That doesn't mean anything. I'm not some pathetic slut who gets attached because a guy has a big dick. That's your department."

Yunjin doesn't flinch. Just smiles, soft and knowing. "You're so full of shit, babe. But it's cute. Keep pretending.” Somi rolls her eyes and turns away, but you catch the faintest trace of a smirk before she kills it.

Then Yunjin claps her hands once and the energy in the room shifts. "Okay. There's someone here who still hasn't gotten off." She looks at you pointedly. Your cock is still hard, still slick, throbbing against your stomach. "Stand up."

You get to your feet. Your legs are genuinely wobbly. Six pairs of eyes look up at you as the girls arrange themselves on their knees in a loose semicircle on the mattress. Asa to your left, Ning and Shuhua in the center, Yunjin to the right, Chaeyoung directly in front of you.

Somi steps forward. She reaches up and slides your glasses off your face. The world goes slightly blurry. Then she turns and places them carefully on Chaeyoung's face. The frames sit crooked on her smaller nose. She adjusts them, pushes them up, and looks up at you through the lenses with those big, pretty eyes.

Yunjin surveys the six of them kneeling around you and puts her hands on her hips. "Alright. Here's how we're doing this. I'll play distributor. Make sure everyone gets their fair share. No one girl hogging more than she's entitled to. Equal distribution of cum across all parties."

Shuhua tilts her head. "That's not really necessary. We're perfectly capable of organizing ourselves. No central authority needed. We just take turns, share naturally, everyone gets what they need."

Yunjin points at her. "And that is how you get one girl with a face full of cum and four girls with nothing. You need structure. Leadership. I'm the one who put this whole thing together. I organized the venue, the logistics, the communication. I am essentially the vanguard of this entire sexually transgressive movement." She pauses, then touches her hair with genuine regret. "Shit, I really should've brought a beret.”

Somi tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and exhales through her nose. "We're literally waiting for him to cum on our faces and you two are doing dialectics.”

"You're not the vanguard of anything," Shuhua replies calmly. "You're just horny and bossy. Those aren't the same thing."

Ning snorts. Asa covers her mouth.

"Can you two please shut up and start sucking," Chaeyoung says flatly, already wrapping her hand around your shaft. Your glasses sit crooked on her face, way too big for her, and she looks up at you through them with this expression that's equal parts sweet and filthy. She leans forward and takes the head into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it, tasting the combined slick of every girl who rode you tonight.

"Fine. Actions over theory. I can respect that,” Yunjin says before she ducks her head and runs her tongue along the left side of your shaft while Chaeyoung works the tip. Ning joins from the right, her tongue tracing a vein from base to mid shaft.

Three mouths on you at once. Your cock is more than big enough to accommodate them. Chaeyoung sucks the head with these slow pulls, her cheeks hollowing, while Yunjin and Ning lap at the shaft from either side, their tongues occasionally meeting and sliding against each other.

Somi kneels behind Chaeyoung, watching over her shoulder. "Tilt your head more, Chae. You're losing the angle."

Chaeyoung adjusts and takes you deeper, the glasses sliding down her nose. She pushes them back up with one finger without missing a beat.

Asa taps Ning's shoulder. "My turn." Ning pulls back and Asa takes her place, her technique immediately different. More controlled, more rhythmic. She sucks along the side of your shaft in long, measured strokes, her hand cupping your balls, rolling them gently. She remembers from the library how sensitive they are.

Shuhua waits patiently until Chaeyoung comes up for air, then leans in and takes over the tip. She's less hesitant than she was in the car. Something about tonight has unlocked her. She takes you halfway down without flinching, her throat relaxing around you, and holds there for a few seconds before pulling back with spit connecting her lips to your cock.

"Good girl, Shu," Yunjin murmurs approvingly, stroking Shuhua's hair back from her face.

"Don't patronize me," Shuhua replies, then immediately goes back down on you.

They rotate. Pairs and trios. Somi finally takes her turn, and true to form, she's rough about it. She grabs the base and sucks hard, her tongue doing something cruel and brilliant against the underside of the head. When she pulls off, she spits on your cock and strokes it with both hands, spreading the saliva, then passes you to Yunjin, who takes you to the root in one smooth motion. She holds you in her throat, her nose pressed against your pelvis, her long tongue extending to lap at your balls while you're still buried in her mouth. Asa watches with genuine admiration.

"That's physically impressive," Asa says. "Like, anatomically."

Yunjin pulls off with a wet gasp and grins. "Talent, baby."

Ning and Chaeyoung work you together next. Chaeyoung on the shaft, Ning sucking your balls into her mouth one at a time, humming against them. Then Shuhua and Asa, Shuhua taking the head while Asa licks the base. Then Somi alone, because Somi doesn't share well, her massive tits pressed against your thighs as she bobs her head with aggressive speed.

Your legs are trembling. The gummy bear you ate before coming to the mall is doing its job. You can feel the pressure building, heavy and dense, your balls tight and aching with the volume they're carrying. Every rotation of mouths pushes you closer. Six different techniques, six different temperatures, six different rhythms. It's sensory overload.

Yunjin can tell you're getting close. She reads your body, the way your stomach muscles tighten, the way your breathing goes shallow. "He's almost there," she announces. "Everyone get in position."

The six of them arrange themselves in a tight semicircle on their knees, faces upturned, close together. Chaeyoung in the center with your glasses still perched on her face. Yunjin and Somi flanking her. Asa, Ning, and Shuhua filling in the gaps. Twelve eyes looking up at you. Six open mouths.

You wrap your fist around your shaft and start stroking. Fast, tight, your hand slick with six girls' spit. "Cum for us," Yunjin says, her tongue extended. "Give your little pornstars everything you've got. I wanna be dripping."

"Cover my face," Ning adds, licking her lips. "I want to taste it again. Give me what you gave me in the car."

Somi tilts her chin up. "Don't you dare miss me."

Chaeyoung just looks at you through your own glasses, her mouth open, waiting. She doesn't need to say anything. The image alone almost sends you over.

"Paint us pretty," Asa says. "All of us. Don't leave anyone out."

Shuhua closes her eyes and tilts her face upward. "I'm ready."

You cum. And the gummy delivers. The first rope hits Chaeyoung across the bridge of your glasses, splattering the lenses, dripping down onto her nose and lips. She gasps and keeps her mouth open, catching the next spurt on her tongue. You angle toward Yunjin and she catches a thick streak across her forehead and cheek, letting it drip down to her chin. She moans, savoring it.

You move to Somi and land a heavy load across her lips and jaw, cum sliding down her neck onto her collarbones and the tops of her breasts. She doesn't flinch. Doesn't blink. Just takes it.

Asa gets the next several spurts. Across her nose, her left cheek, her open mouth. She swallows what lands on her tongue and lets the rest sit on her skin. Ning leans in eagerly and catches a rope from her hairline all the way down to her chin, cum beading on her eyelashes. She licks it from the corner of her mouth and grins. Shuhua receives the final waves, thick streaks landing across her forehead and cheeks. She keeps her eyes closed through it, her lips parted, cum dripping from her jaw onto her bare chest.

And it keeps coming. The gummy turns what should be a normal orgasm into something absurd. You go back through the lineup, adding more to each face. A second coating on Chaeyoung's glasses, now completely opaque with cum. More on Yunjin's neck and tits. Another streak across Somi's parted lips. By the time you're finally spent, shaking, your hand still wrapped around your softening cock, all six of them are glazed. Thoroughly, comprehensively, disgustingly covered.

The store is silent for a moment.

Then Yunjin starts laughing. Then Ning. Then all of them. Chaeyoung takes the glasses off and holds them up, both lenses completely coated, and that sends everyone into hysterics.

"That was unreal," Asa says, wiping cum from her eyebrow. "Genuinely, medically, that shouldn't be possible."

"I told you guys, these gummy bears are straight-up magical. Holy shit,” Yunjin beams, cum dripping off her chin.

Somi examines the mess on her chest with raised eyebrows. "Okay. I take back what I said earlier. His cock is more than 'fine'."

Asa stands up first, grabbing her shirt from the floor. "Okay. This was incredible. But we need to get out of here before sunrise."

Shuhua freezes mid laugh. "How exactly are we getting out of here, by the way?"

Six girls exchange glances. A long, terrible silence.

Asa looks at Yunjin. "Please tell me you planned the exit."

Yunjin blinks. "My plan went as far as the orgy part. I figured we'd improvise after."

Somi turns to Shuhua slowly. "You're supposed to be the smart one. Please tell me you thought about this."

"The idea wasn't even mine!" Shuhua protests. "And if I were truly the smart one in this group, I wouldn't have come here at all. I was driven entirely by lust, which I am not proud of."

Chaeyoung wipes your glasses on the sheet and puts them back on. "I mean, to be fair, every single person here was driven by lust. Not one of us was thinking logically tonight."

Ning sits back on her heels and surveys the scene. Cum on their faces. A mattress stained beyond repair with squirt. A clearly vandalized store.

"This is fantastic. We're stuck in a mall with the evidence of multiple crimes on our bodies and on this three thousand dollar mattress."

Shuhua nods solemnly. "Yeah, we're done for. Roll credits. Little cartoon circle closing in around our faces and everything." She sighs. "'That's all, folks.'”

All six of them turn to look at you. Hopeful. Desperate, even. Ning clasps her hands together. "Please tell me you have an idea."

You look past them toward the back of the store. Storage area. Receiving dock. "The store's on the first floor. There's gotta be a back door for deliveries. Loading area that opens to the outside. And somewhere back there, a spare key or a push bar."

The relief on their faces is instantaneous. Shoulders dropping. Exhales all around. Yunjin throws her arms up. "See? No reason to panic. Everything was under control the entire time. I planned for this."

"You absolutely did not," Shuhua says flatly.

"Details. Minor details." Yunjin stretches her arms above her head and rolls her neck. Then she looks at you with that familiar, dangerous glint. "So. Who wants a second round?"

Chaeyoung sputters. "Now? Here? We literally just figured out how to escape."

"We have time! The back door isn't going anywhere. And neither is his dick." She gestures at you. "Look at him. He's already getting hard again."

She's not wrong. The gummy's still doing its job. Somi glances down, then looks back up at you. "You seriously got another round in you?”

You look at the six of them. Flushed, sweaty, ridiculously attractive. Still hanging around half delirious at two in the morning in a dark mattress store. Somehow this is reality now.

"For you guys," you say, "I think I can power through.”

Asa smirks. Somi rolls her eyes but she's already moving toward you. Yunjin claps once, saying, "Then it's settled. The night continues." She pushes you back onto the mattress and the rest of them follow, six bodies closing in around you, hands and mouths everywhere.