OC x Yujin (5712 words) Commissioned fic! Thanks @jmuns-kpop for proofreading. Filthy fic with pits and feet, so if that is not your thing feel free to skip. Feel free to read my stories here as well https://fanprose.com/users/iutachi
You have never been a lucky person, and over time that turns into a lifestyle, an almost instinctive belief that things will go wrong at the worst possible moment. It is never anything dramatic, life-ruining. Just small, persistent misfortune that follows you around. Being the one asked to give up your seat on an overbooked flight. Getting splashed by a passing bus just as you think you have made it through the rain unscathed. Or having your phone die right when you need it most, like at the payment counter,leaving you standing there awkwardly as the line builds behind you.
And most unfortunately, concert tickets.
Being a fan of IVE was already competitive enough. Every comeback, every showcase, every fan meeting, it all vanishes within seconds. You tried everything. Multiple devices. Constant refreshing. But you are just never that lucky one. Then again, that is not surprising. Like everything else in your life, the opportunity always slips just out of reach.
So close, yet never close enough.
But not going is never an option.
Not when it comes to them.
Not when it comes to her.
Ahn Yujin.
So you adapt. Or maybe you just give in. Scalper prices become routine and painful to the wallet but necessary. Every event, every fan meeting, every chance to see her means another dent in your wallet, another quiet sigh when you check your balance. Still, you tell yourself it is worth it. Because seeing them up close, hearing the music live, that is something you cannot replace.
And Yujin… She makes it all feel justified.
There is something about her that keeps pulling you back. Not just her stage presence, though that alone is enough, but the way she interacts with fans. Warm and mischievous. The kind of smile that feels like it is hiding something, like she knows more than she lets on. Every time you see it, it lingers long after the event ends. But what drives you really feral for her, is how sexy she looks in sweat, after her intense performance. You lowkey wish you would be that towel that she uses to clean herself every time.
At first, you are just another face in the crowd.
One of many.
Easily forgettable.
That is what you tell yourself.
So the first time she looks at you, you brush it off immediately. Just a coincidence. The kind of thing fans like to turn into something bigger than it is.
But then it happens again.
And again.
A glance that lingers just a second longer than it should. A moment during a fan signing that feels… different. Slightly more personal, even if you cannot explain why. You tell yourself not to overthink it. People would call it delusion, and honestly, they might not be wrong.
But what is hope without a little imagination?
You hold onto that thought more than you should.
And then comes the moment of what you deem as a highlight in your life.
At one of the fan signing events, when it is finally your turn, she pauses.
Her pen hovers above the page as her eyes meet yours.
“I’ve seen you before, right?”
For a second, everything else disappears.
The noise, the crowd, the nerves,even the thought of your bank balance,it all falls silent.
Your heart nearly stops.
You nod, barely aware of yourself, and she smiles back at you.
Not the practiced, automatic smile she gives hundreds of fans, but something you want to believe is more genuine. Then she writes your name slowly, carefully, as if she intends to remember it this time.
You walk away in a daze, the signed album clutched tightly in your hands, replaying the moment over and over in your head, half-convinced it never really happened.
But it did.
Because now, every time you see her, it feels different.
Like she recognizes you.
Like somehow, against all odds and misfortune, you are no longer invisible.
Your wallet may be in ruins, and your decisions questionable at best… but your heart?
Your heart has never felt fuller.
Put simply—you are a simp.
Down bad for Yujin.
But at least you are a very happy one.
That is why the letter in your hands now feels so unreal.
You reread it five times before your hands stop shaking.
“Congratulations! You’ve been selected for a backstage meeting with Yujin.”
A raffle.
And somehow—you are that lucky one.
You have followed everything since her debut, and now, backstage With her?
That is a moment you will never forget.
==
The venue feels different the moment you cross the barriers and step deeper into the concert area.
Out front, it is loud, fans shouting their bias’ name, bodies packed tightly together in the usual sold-out chaos.
Back here, it is quiet.
A staff member leads you down a narrow hallway, your footsteps echoing softly against the walls.
“Wait here,” they say. “The encore stage should be over soon.”
Then the staff, leaving you on your own.
You look around.
The room is small—likely Yujin’s personal space. A dressing room. A rack of outfits is pushed to one side. You skim through the dresses, recognizing more than you expect—pieces she has worn before, moments you remember vividly.
It feels surreal.
Like you have stepped into a place you were never meant to see.
And then out of the corner of your eye, something catches your attention. On the table, something out of place. You notice a laced fabric, hanging loosely on the table. You told yourself to ignore it, you really should. But curiosity got the better of you and you stepped closer.
On the table lies a slightly damped black lace panties, slightly crumpled , as if they were torn off in haste. Your pulse kicks up, throbbing in your throat. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. But the thought of her wearing them, the way they’d mold to her hips, the way the dampness would cling to her, fuck, you can’t resist.
“This is where it goes wrong” you murmur to yourself quietly.
You lean forward, fingers trembling as you reach out, brushing the fabric between your thumb and forefinger. It’s soft, almost weightless, but the warmth lingers, like she just stepped out of them. Your cock twitches, pressing against the zipper of your slacks, already half-hard from the thought alone. Then you see it, the dark, glistening patch right at the crotch. Your stomach flips. That’s her. That’s the proof of her arousal, the slick evidence of how wet she gets. The musk hits you before you even bring them to your nose, sweet, tangy, and your self-control snaps.
You lift the panties to your face, inhaling deep.
god.
The scent is intoxicating, warm, thick with the salt of her sweat and the unmistakable musk of her pussy. Your cock jerks, straining painfully now, pre-cum already beading at the tip. You breathe her in again, slower this time, letting the scent fill your lungs, your head, your fucking soul. This is after all your favourite idol and experiencing her in a more intimate way made you lose your mind. The lace sticks to your lips, the dampness transferring to your skin, and you groan, low and needy, your free hand dropping to palm yourself through your pants. Just one more whiff, just one more taste, before you stop and pretend nothing happens.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Your entire body locks up.
Yujin’s voice is amused, dripping with the kind of confidence you see on stage. You yank the panties away from your face like you’ve been burned, but it’s too late. She’s already seen. Fuck, she’s standing right there, one brow arched, her lips curves into a smirk that’s equal parts predatory and delighted. She’s dressed in a black dress that hugs her curves, likely her encore outfit, the neckline dipping just enough to show her cleavage. Her bare feet, fuck, her feet, are planted on the plush rug, toes painted a dark, glossy red, the same color as her nails.
“Didn’t peg you for a panty-sniffer, after all that fan meetings” she smirks while stepping closer. The scent of her perfume wraps around you, but beneath it, you can still smell her, the real her, the one that’s soaked into the lace you’re still clutching like a lifeline. There are a lot of other concerns you should be thinking of right now, but your mind is still hazy from your arousal of Yujin’s scent.
Your face burns. “I—I wasn’t—”
“Lying to me already?” She tsks, shaking her head as she circles you, her hips swaying with every step. The dress rides up just a little higher, giving you a flash of smooth thigh. “That’s not how this works, pet. You don’t get to pretend you weren’t just huffing my used panties like a desperate little slut.”
The word slut lands like a physical blow, sending a jolt straight to your cock. You whimper, your grip tightening on the lace, and she notices. Her smirk deepens.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” She stops right in front of you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off her skin. Her hand lifts, fingers trailing down your cheek, then lower, over your throat, pressing just enough to make you swallow hard. “You like being called what you are. A filthy, panty-sniffing slut”
You should be ashamed. You are ashamed. But the way she’s looking at you, like she’s already decided how she’s going to use you, makes your cock throb painfully. Pre-cum leaks through the fabric of your slacks, sticky and hot.
Yujin’s gaze drops to your crotch, and she grins. “Look at you. Already leaking for me.” Her fingers leave your throat, skimming down your chest, over your stomach, before she suddenly grips your cock through your pants. You gasp, hips jerking upward, but she squeezes, her nails digging in just enough to make you whine. “Pathetic. You’re hard just from smelling me.”
“Y-Yujin—”
“Shh.” She presses a finger to your lips, silencing you. “You don’t get to talk unless I say so. Understand?”
You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp pants. Her finger drags down, tracing the shape of your lips before she pulls away, leaving them tingling.
“Good.” She steps back, just out of reach, and you ache for her touch already. “Now. Since you’re so obsessed with my scent…” She gestures to the panties still clutched in your white-knuckled grip. “Keep sniffing. And stroke that desperate little cock for me. Let me see how much of a slut you are.”
Your stomach twists, but your hand is already moving, fumbling with your belt, your zipper. The sound of the metal teeth parting is obscenely loud in the quiet room. Yujin watches, her eyes gleaming, as you free your cock. It’s flushed, leaking, the head already slick with pre-cum. You wrap your fingers around the shaft, stroking once, twice, the pleasure almost painful after being denied for so long.
“That’s it,” she murmurs. “Fuck your hand like you wish you could fuck me.”
You groan, your hips lifting off the chair that you had tumbled into after losing strength in your legs, as you stroke faster, your other hand bringing the panties back to your face. The scent hits you again, richer now, and you moan, the sound broken & needy. Yujin simply laughs at how much control she has over this situation.
“Louder,” she commands. “I want to hear how much you love my smell. How much you need it. How much you need me”
“I—I do,” you gasp, your strokes turning jerky, desperate. “Fuck, Yujin, I need—”
“Need what?” She steps forward again, her bare foot pressing against your knee, sliding upward, over your thigh. “Say it.”
“I need you,” you choke out, your face burning. “I need to breathe you in. Please—”
“Please what?” Her foot slides higher, her toes brushing against your balls, and you jolt, your cock twitching in your grip. “Use your words, pet. Beg properly.”
“Please let me taste you,” you whimper, your voice cracking. “Let me worship you. I’ll do anything—”
“Anything?” She hums, her foot retreating just as you lean into the touch. You whine, your cock throbbing in protest. “Prove it.”
Before you can process what she means, she’s lifting her foot, planting her sole against your chest and pushing. You topple back, landing on the rug with a thud, your cock still gripped in your hand, the panties pressed to your face. Yujin looms over you, her dress riding up as she hovers over your chest, her covered pussy right there, just inches from your face. The scent of her is overwhelming, sweet, musky, perfect and your cock aches.
“Lick,” she orders. You would think she was referring to her intimate part but no. Yujin shifts her weight so her foot presses down on your sternum, pinning you. “Start with my feet. Show me how much you love my scent.”
You don’t hesitate. After all, you love every part of her.
Your tongue darts out, dragging up the arch of her foot, tasting the salt of her sweat, the faintest hint of her perfume. She tastes divine, and you groan against her skin, your cock leaking onto your stomach. Yujin shivers, her toes curling, and you take it as encouragement, licking again, this time from her heel to her toes, sucking each one into your mouth, worshipping them like they’re the most sacred things you’ve ever touched.
“Good,” she breathes, her voice trembling just a little. “Just like that. Now the other one.”
You obey, switching feet, lavishing the same attention on her left, your free hand still stroking your cock in slow, desperate pulls. The panties are mashed against your face, the lace sticking to your cheek, the scent of her pussy mixing with the taste of her skin. It’s too much yet at the same time It’s not enough.
Yujin shifts again, this time lifting her dress, baring her thighs to you. The sight of her,all of her, makes your cock jerk, pre-cum dripping down your shaft. She’s glistening, her swollen lips could be seen through her panties, it seems she is equally turned on by this situation. But she doesn’t let you touch. Instead, she grabs you by collar and pulls you into her before lifting her arm, pressing her armpit to your face.
“Sniff,” she commands, her voice thick with arousal. “Tell me how much you love my naughty scent.”
You inhale deep, and fuck, she smells even stronger here, the musk of her sweat and her pussy mixing into something primal, something that makes your head spin. Your cock throbs, your balls drawing up tight.
“I—I love it,” you gasp, your voice muffled against her skin. “I need it. Please, Yujin—”
“Please what? I told you to use your words properly” She grinds her armpit against your face, her other foot pressing down on your cock, stroking it with her sole. The pleasure is agonising, the friction just enough to make you whimper. “You want to cum? You want to drown in my scent?”
“Yes!” The word tears out of you, raw and desperate. “Please, please—”
“Beg,” she whispers, her breath hot against your ear as she leans down, her armpit still smothering you. “Beg like the pathetic sniffing slave & boy toy you are.”
“I’m your slave,” you sob, your hips bucking up into the pressure of her foot. “I’m your pathetic sniffing slave. Please, let me cum. Let me worship you.”
Her foot strokes faster, her toes curling around your shaft, and you break. Your orgasm crashes over you, brutal and overwhelming, cum spurring up in thick ropes. You cry out, your body shuddering as she milks every last drop from you with her foot.
Yujin watches, her lips parted, her breath coming fast. When you finally collapse back against the rug, spent and trembling, she leans down, her lips brushing your ear.
“Good boy,” Her fingers tangle in your hair, yanking your head back. Her other hand presses the panties back to your face, smothering you. “You’re going to beg for more.”
Your cock twitches weakly against your thigh, spent but already stirring again under her words. Then she suddenly grabs your wrists, yanking them together above your head. The lace panties, - her panties - is wrenched from your face and wound tightly around your wrists into a makeshift bind. The knots though loose, are efficient enough to remind you who is in control.
“There,” Yujin, moves back, admiring her handiwork.
“Now you’re properly useless.”
Yujin stood over you with one leg on each side of your ribs, ensuring that you have a perfect view of her most intimate parts.
“Open that filthy mouth,” she commands, nudging your jaw with her foot. “I’m not done using it.”
You obey instantly, lips parting as she shifts her stance, one foot sliding up to press against your cheek. “Good slave,” You see Yujin begin hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her own panties and peeling them down her thighs with deliberate slowness. Yujin didn’t bother stepping out of them entirely. Instead she uses the panties as a makeshift cloth to mop at the mess of her feet, wiping the last traces of your cum from her arches and toes with a few efficient swipes. Even the sight of her cleaning herself with her own underwear, makes your cock jerk despite the exhaustion from your previous orgasm. You were down so bad for her. She tosses the soiled fabric aside, then turns to you, her ass hovering just above your face.
“Let’s put this filthy mouth to good use, lick,” she orders, not even bother glancing back.
“And don’t you dare stop until I say so.”
The first press of her pussy against your mouth was overwhelming. She was already wet, her folds slick and swollen, the taste of her sharp and intoxicating. You groan against her, tongue flattening to lap at her. She tastes sweet, just like how you imagine her to be. She rewards you with a slow, deliberate grind, her thighs squeezing your head as she settles her weight onto your face. The rug scratched at your back, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the way her muscles tensed when you circle her entrance, the way her breath hitches when you flicked your tongue against her clit.
“That’s it,” she gasps, her fingers tangling in your hair, yanking just hard enough to make your scalp sting. “Worship this pussy like the pathetic little cumslut you are.” She rocks forward, her ass pressing against your nose, the musky scent of her filling your senses. You didn’t hesitate, your tongue spearing into her tight hole, lapping at the sensitive skin until she shuddered. “Fuck—yes—” Her free hand dropped to her clit, rubbing in tight, frantic circles as she uses your mouth like it was nothing more than a toy designed for her pleasure.
Then her foot was back, this time wrapping around your cock. The arch of her sole slid along your shaft, her toes curling around the base, stroking you with maddening precision. You buck into the touch instinctively, but she stops, her grip tightening just enough to still you. “Uh-uh,”her voice was breathy but firm. “You don’t get to cum again until I do. Understand?” She punctuates the question by grinding down harder, her pussy flooding your mouth with fresh wetness.
You nod as best you could, muffled by her flesh on you.
“Such a good little slut for me,” “Taking my pussy on that pretty face, letting me use your cock like it’s mine…” Her toes teased your slit, gathering the bead of pre-cum there before smearing it down your length. “You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?”
You moan in response, the vibration making her gasp. Her thighs tremble, movements getting more frantic as she chases her own release. “Fuck, just like that—don’t stop—” Her voice breaks on a whine, her pussy clenching around your tongue as she came, her juices coating your chin, your lips, dripping down your throat. You swallow every drop, drunk on the taste of her, your cock throbbing in her foot’s grip as she continues to milk you through her orgasm.
For a long moment, she simply sat there, her chest heaving, her weight pinning you to the rug. Then she shifts, turning to face you, her knees straddling your chest as she lowers herself until her mouth reaches her throbbing cock. “You earned this,” her hand wrapping around your cock, giving it a slow, teasing stroke. “But don’t think for a second you’re getting off that easy.”
Before you could process what she means, her lips parts around the head of your cock. The wet heat of her mouth was almost too much. She takes you deep, her throat fluttering around your tip as she swallows, her tongue working the underside with expert precision. You moan, your bound wrists twisting against the lace as you fought the urge to thrust up into that perfect, suffocating warmth.
Yujin pulls off with a wet pop, her lips glistening. “Mmm, you taste desperate,” she teases, before diving back down, her mouth sealing around you again. You could feel her tongue swirling, her cheeks hollowing, the way her throat constricts around you when she took you to the base.
But just as the pressure in your balls becomes unbearable, she pulls away entirely, leaving you gasping. “Not yet” “You don’t get to cum until I say so.” “I’m going to ride this cock until you’re nothing but a dripping, used up mess.”
Yujin moves to straddle you, then in one smooth motion, she sinks down onto you, taking every inch. The heat of her was heavenly, tight, dripping, clenching around you like she was going to milk you dry. Her nails dig into your chest as she starts to ride you. Her hips rolling in deep , grinding circles.
“Remember pet, you don’t cum, until I’m done with you. Understand?”
Every time she bottoms you out, you would feel her hard clit drag against your pelvis, and you feel the way her pussy clenches even tighter. But she wasn’t going to let herself go so easily. Not while she still have you to torture.
Yujin reaches behind her and unclasps her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms before tossing it aside. Her breasts spilled free, heavy and swaying with each sharp snap of her hips. You watch, mesmerized, as she arches her back, lifting her arms above her head in a stretch that made her tits jut out, her nipples hard and begging for attention. But that wasn’t what she wanted from you.
“Lick,” and again you did not hesitate.
You surge upward, tongue pressing into the damp, musky hollow of her armpit. Again the scent of her floods your senses , making your cock twitch violently inside her. She moans, thighs trembling as she keeps riding you, her pace never faltering even as you lap at her like a starving man. Fuck, you’re such a dirty boy," she gasps, "You love this, don’t you? Love how I smell, love how I use you."
You continue tasting her switching to the other arm, tongue tracing the delicate lines of her underarm, and the slickness of her sweat. She tastes just like a drug, one you can never get enough of. Your cock throbs, trapped inside her tight heat and you could feel your orgasm building. But her words echo in your head, her denial preventing you from letting go fully.
Yujin must’ve sensed how close you are. She leans back, prying you away from her glistening underarms, bracing her hands on your thighs as she changes the angle, her pussy clenching around you in a way that makes your toes curl. Then, she lifts one foot and presses the sole against your cheek. You open instantly, parting your lips as she pushes her foot against your mouth again.
The taste of her skin continues to fill your mouth as you lick the arch of her foot, your tongue swirling over her toes, the ball of her sole, anywhere she presses against you. She kept fucking you through it, her hips slamming down harder now, her breath coming in shorter gasps. "That’s it," she panted, "worship me while I use this cock. You’re mine, aren’t you? Just a toy for me to ride until I’m satisfied."
Your cock was so hard it aches, your balls drawn up tight, your entire body coiling like a spring. You were so close, but you wouldn’t dare cum. Not without permission. Not when she was still using you like this, still owning you.
Then, with a broken cry, Yujin’s body locks up. Her pussy clenches around you like a vise, her thighs shaking as she comes, her release soaking your cock in hot, pulsing waves. "Fuck—! Oh god, yes—"* Her voice was raw, her nails raking on your thighs as she rode out her orgasm, her foot still pressing against your face, smothering you in her scent.
Yujin sat there post orgasm, her chest heaving, her pussy fluttering around you like she was milking the last drops of pleasure from her climax. Then, with a slow, satisfied exhale, she finally pulled her foot away from your mouth and lean forward, bracing her hands on your chest as she looked down at you.
"Wow," "Even you can make me cum." She smirks, rolling her hips once, twice, just to watch you whimper. "Pathetic, really. But I suppose you’ve earned something."
Yujin lifts herself off you, her pussy making an obscene, wet sound as your cock slips free. You groan at the loss of her heat, your cock throbbing painfully. Yujin didn’t give you time to beg. She shifts forward, straddling your hips, her ass pressing against your cock as she reaches between her legs and wraps her fingers around you.
"Cum for me," "All over me."
That was all it took. The image of you painting her was sufficient.
Your orgasm hit you hard, your cock jerking violently in her grip as thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering across her stomach, her breasts, her collarbone. She gasps as the first hot streak paints her skin, her fingers tightening around you as she milks every last drop. "Look at you," "Such a naughty boy, covering me in your mess."
You collapse back against the rug, your chest heaving, your cock still twitching weakly as the last of your release dripped onto your stomach. Yujin leans down, her cum-slicked body pressing against yours as she captures your mouth in a deep, filthy kiss, her tongue sweeping in to claim you all over again.
“Good toy, you did so well for me”
“I was right about my judgement you really are such an easy bait.”
Despite your exhaustion, the statement cuts through the fog in your head, leaving you confused.
“Bait?” you manage. “What do you mean?”
“You really thought I left those panties there by accident?” She tilts her head. “I know you’re too weak to resist. Such a predictable little pet. From all the fan meetings, I can tell… you’re down bad. The type who would do anything just to get closer to me.”
The words hit like a slap.
Your muscles tense instantly, clearing whatever haze you have in your head
Predictable. Weak. Bait.
She had played you.
Everything you have believed that meant something—her smiles, the way she looks at you, the small moments you cling to—none of it is real. It is all part of her plan. Just a way to toy with you.
To her, you are never special.
Just easy.
Memories of your unlucky life flash through your mind, one after another, like a pattern you can no longer ignore. And now it clicks.
This isn’t luck.
You don’t win anything, not even this raffle and backstage experience.
She had manipulated the outcome.
Something coiled within your gut.
Before she could react, you surge upward, grabbing her wrists and twisting. Yujin yelps as you flip her onto her back, her legs splaying open as you pin her down. Her eyes widening in shock, like she hasn't expected you to fight back. Good. Let her be surprised.
"Oh, so the little bitch has teeth?" She smirks even as you press her arms above her head. "Took you long enough.”
You didn’t answer. Instead, you reach for the damp black lace near you, her panties, the ones she’d used to bind you just hours ago. The elastic still stretched from when she’d wrapped it around your wrists. Now it was her turn.
Yujin’s breath hitches as you loop the pace around her wrists, pulling tight. “Wait–”
“Shut the fuck up” You knotted the panties, yanking it hard to keep her restrain.
She tested the bind, tugging experimentally. “Not bad,” “But you’re still not —-mmmph!”
You cut her off by shoving the other pair of panties, the one who was wearing previously , still damp from her own arousal into her mouth. Her eyes flare in protest, but you didn't give her time to spit them out. Instead you clamp down on her mouth, forcing her to keep them. “Shut up brat, you talk way too fucking much.”
Yujin’s muffled noise vibrates against your palm. She glares, but there was something else there—something more needy. She likes this.
Fine. You’d give her exactly what she wanted.
You didn’t bother with any more foreplay. Your cock was already stirring back to life as you line yourself up against her. Yujn’s thighs tremble as you drag the head through her folds, her pussy still slick from her own climax. She was dripping, her body betraying her even as she tries to look defiant.
"You’re already wet for me," pressing just the tip inside. "Such a slut for being used."
Her hips jerks, trying to take more, but you pull back. Yujin whines around the gag, her bound wrists twisting against the lace. You smack her thigh hard.
"Did I say you could move?"
She shakes her head, but her eyes burn with challenge. Fuck me harder, they said. I dare you.
Oh, you’d take that dare.
You slam into her in one brutal thrust. Yujin’s back arches off the rug, a choked scream tearing from her throat as you bottom her out. Her pussy clenches around you, tight like she’d been waiting for this the whole time. You didn’t give her a second to adjust. Pulling out almost all the way, you drove back in, your hips snapping against hers with enough force to bruise.
You grab her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as you set a punishing rhythm. The rug burns against your knees, the friction rough, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the way her body took you, the way her breath hitches every time you hit that spot deep inside her.
"You like that?" you lean down to bite her nipple. She cries out, her back arching. "You like being fucked like the little slut you are, baiting me like I’m you toy?"
Yujin’s answer was a garbled noise, but her pussy flutters around your cock, her thighs shaking. You smacked her ass watching the way her skin pinked under your hand.
Then an idea pops in your head… You wanted her to see it.
With a growl, you haul her up by her bound wrists and turn her around, dragging her toward the full-length mirror propped against the wall. Yujin stumbles, her legs unsteady, but you didn’t let her fall. Instead, you bent her over, pressing her chest against the cool glass. Her reflection stares back.
"Look," you commanded, gripping her hip with one hand while the other tangled in her hair, yanking her head up. "Look at how fucking slutty you are."
Yujin’s breath fogs the mirror as you thrust back into her. Her bound hands scraped against the glass, her fingers splaying as she tried to find a balance. You didn’t let up. Each snap of your hips drove her forward, her tits smashing against the mirror.
"You love this," watching her reflection. "You love being used like a fucking toy. I bet this is all part of your plan too, right?"
Her eyes lock onto yours in the glass, with the same mischievous eyes. Indeed this is all within her plans. You were physically in control, but playing very well into the hands of Yujin. But now , none of that matters. You continue thrusting into Yujin and seeing her pussy clench every time you bottom her out , you knew she was close.
You reach around, finding her clit with your fingers. "Cum for me," you ordered, rubbing in tight, punishing circles. "Cum like the good little whore you are."
Yujin’s muffled scream shattered the air as her orgasm hit. Her pussy pulses around your cock, her body shuddering violently as you kept fucking her through it. The mirror fogs with her ragged breaths, her reflection a mess of flushed skin.
And then you were cumming, burying yourself to the hilt as you paint her walls with thick, hot spurts. Yujin’s body clenches around you, milking every last drop as her own climax starts to fade.
You stay like that, both of you breathing hard, your body still twitching inside hers. Then, slowly, you pull out, watching as your cum drips down her thighs.
Yujin leans against the glass, her reflection a ruin. She looked used. Perfect.
You reached up, untangling the panties from her wrists. Her arms dropped limply to her sides as she spits out the gag. Before you collapse to the floor, totally spent.
“You are the perfect little pet” As you come to your senses, you see Yujin, starts to dress up and clean herself. “You can keep this, your reward for being a good pet“ she tosses the panties towards you. It seems rage baiting you was part of her plan to make you fuck her hard too.
“I will contact you again, to be another “Lucky” raffle winner” I guess your life is still the same, you were never truly lucky but at least today you become an Ahnlucky pervert.
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You slam your cock deep into her tight pussy with a rough thrust, burying yourself to the hilt. The wet slap of your hips meeting her ass echoes through the hotel room as you kneel between her spread legs on the bed.
She’s completely naked beneath you. Pale, smooth skin flushed pink, small but perfect tits bouncing with every hard stroke. Her legs are bent and pulled back toward her chest, giving you full access. You grip her slim thighs tightly, fingers digging into soft flesh as you pound her without mercy, driving your thick cock in and out of her slick heat over and over.
“Fuuuck… so tight.”
You groan, eyes locked on where your shaft disappears between her glistening folds.
She’s wearing a black lace eye mask that completely covers her eyes and upper face, leaving only her pretty pink lips and delicate jaw visible. Because of it, you still can’t be 100% sure who she is. You think it’s IU, but that seems impossible. Why the hell would IU show up at your hotel room door like this?
Half an hour earlier, you had opened your door after a soft knock, expecting room service or maybe a wrong room. Instead, there she stood in the dimly lit hallway: a petite woman in a white hotel robe that barely reached mid-thigh, a black lace eye mask on her face, phone held up in one hand like she was recording. Her voice was soft, slightly shy, but direct.
“Hi… I saw you earlier at the elevator. Would you like to shoot some content with me for my OnlyFans? I’ll pay you well. No faces for you, and I’ll stay masked. Just… raw and real. Are you in?”
You barely had time to process before she let the robe slip off her shoulders, revealing her naked body underneath. The next thing you knew, the door was locked, the phone was propped up on the nightstand recording everything, and you were balls-deep inside the tightest, wettest pussy you’d ever felt.
Now you’re fucking her like your life depends on it.
You lean forward, changing the angle so your cock drags against her front wall with every thrust. She lets out a high, sweet moan that sounds exactly like IU’s voice from all the songs you’ve heard. Her hands clutch the sheets above her head, back arching hard as you rail her.
“Ahh-! Harder…Fuck me harder, please…”
You oblige, gripping her narrow waist and pounding into her with deep, brutal strokes. Her pussy squeezes around you steadily, soaking your cock and balls with her juices. The wet sounds of her cunt taking every inch fill the room.
You still can’t believe this is real. Is this actually IU? The sweet, innocent-looking national treasure of Korea? Or just some insanely hot lookalike who does secret OnlyFans work?
Either way, you don’t care right now.
You slam into her again and again, watching her tits bounce and her masked face twist in pleasure. Her mouth stays open in a constant moan, tongue occasionally darting out to wet her lips. You reach down and rub her swollen clit with your thumb while continuing to destroy her pussy. Her whole body jerks violently.
“Oh my god-! I’m-I’m cuming-!”
Her walls clamp down hard around your cock as she orgasms, pulsing and gushing around you. You keep thrusting through it. You fuck her straight through her climax until her legs shake. Her tight pussy flutters and squeezes around your cock as she rides out the waves. Her sweet moans fill the room, but you’re already feeling that familiar pressure building deep in your core. Your balls tighten, heat rushing up your spine. You spread her legs even wider, pushing her knees toward her shoulders so she’s folded almost in half beneath you. Leaning over her small frame, you start destroying her cunt with short, brutal strokes, slamming into her as deep as you can go.
“I’m close. Fuck, I’m really close…”
“Please… cum on my face. Cum all over my face… I want it. Please-”
That’s all it takes. You fuck her hard for a few more seconds, pounding her soaked pussy until you can’t hold back any longer. With a groan, you pull out of her dripping heat and quickly scoot forward on the bed. You’re no longer kneeling between her legs. You’re straddling her chest now, your slick cock hovering right above her masked face. You stroke yourself fast and hard, staring down at her. IU obediently opens her mouth wide, tongue sliding out as she makes a soft, lewd “Aaaah” sound, waiting for you like a perfect little cumslut. It feels strange for a second, cuming on a woman whose eyes you can’t even see, someone you’re not even sure is really IU. But in this moment, none of that matters. The pressure is too much.
You cum hard. Thick ropes of cum shoot across her face. The first shot lands straight into her open mouth, painting her tongue. The next splatter across her cheek and the black lace mask. More streaks land on her lips, her chin, and the bridge of her nose. You keep stroking, milking every last drop onto her pretty, masked face until you’re completely spent.
You stay there for a moment, kneeling above her chest, breathing heavily as you admire the mess you made. Her face is covered in your cum, some dripping down her cheeks, some pooling on her tongue, the white contrasting beautifully against the black lace.
IU closes her mouth and swallows audibly.
“Mmm… delicious. You taste really good…”
Without hesitation, she lifts her head slightly and wraps her soft lips around your sensitive cock, sucking you clean. Her tongue swirls gently around your shaft. She licks up every remaining drop of cum. She takes you deeper into her warm mouth, sucking softly until you’re spotless.
You groan at the gentle overstimulation, one hand instinctively resting on the top of her head as she finishes cleaning you. You expect her to stop after a minute or two. Most women would pull off once they’ve cleaned you up, maybe give you a shy smile or ask if you want to keep filming. But IU doesn’t stop. Her soft, warm mouth keeps working your sensitive cock with slow, lazy sucks. Her tongue swirls gently around your shaft, licking every inch as if she’s savoring the mixed taste of your cum and her own juices. She takes you deeper, humming softly around you, the vibrations traveling straight to your balls. To your surprise, you start getting hard again. Your cock twitches and swells inside her mouth, growing thicker against her tongue. IU makes a pleased little sound and starts sucking with more purpose, bobbing her head slowly while her lips stay wrapped tightly around you.
You stare down at her, still kneeling over her chest. The sight is filthy and surreal.
Her face is still covered in your cum, thick white streaks drying on her cheeks, dripping slowly down her jaw, and smeared across the black lace eye mask. Some of it has even gotten into her hair. Yet she continues sucking you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Her tongue works tirelessly to bring you back to full hardness.
Your mind starts racing again.
Is this actually IU?
She has a concert scheduled in this city next week. You saw the posters everywhere when you checked into the hotel. The real IU would be busy with rehearsals, soundchecks, and media appearances. Why the hell would she be in a random guy’s hotel room filming OnlyFans content?
But then again… the voice. That sweet, slightly breathy tone when she moaned. The way her body feels. The petite frame and perfect pale skin. It all matches.
The mask makes sense if it really is her, a way to protect her identity while still indulging in something risky and dirty. Or maybe she just enjoys the anonymity. Plenty of girls in this line of work wear masks anyway. It doesn’t prove anything.
Still, the idea that the Lee Jieun is currently sucking your cock with your own cum still painted across her face feels completely insane.
You’re fully hard again now, your cock standing rigid between her soft lips. IU pulls back just enough to swirl her tongue around the sensitive head, then takes you deep once more, sucking greedily. She hums contentedly, as if she could happily stay like this for hours, focused entirely on your cock.
You swallow hard, heart pounding with a strange mix of lust and disbelief.
Her warm, wet mouth works you over with slow, devoted strokes, lips sliding up and down your shaft, tongue swirling around the head every time she pulls back. Even with your cum still streaked across her cheeks and black lace mask, she doesn’t seem to care.
After several long minutes of her dedicated sucking, IU finally pulls off completely. A thin string of saliva connects her lower lip to the tip of your cock for a second before it breaks. She licks her lips, tasting the mess, and tilts her masked face up toward you.
“You’re hard again already…Want to go for round two?”
You don’t even need to answer. She rolls over smoothly onto her stomach and you scoot back again. Then she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees. Her petite body looks incredible in this position: slim waist, round ass pushed back toward you, and her soaked pussy glistening between her thighs.
You move behind her quickly, kneeling on the bed. Gripping her narrow hips, you line up your throbbing cock with her tight entrance and push forward.
Her cunt swallows you completely.
“Fuck…”
You groan as you sink balls-deep into her again. She’s still incredibly wet and warm from earlier, her walls gripping you perfectly.
IU lets out a soft moan and arches her back, pushing her ass back against you.
“Mmm… yes. Just like that.”
You don’t waste any time. You start fucking her properly from behind with long, deep strokes that make her small body rock forward with every thrust. The sound of your hips slapping against her ass fills the room again, wet and lewd.
Her pussy feels even tighter in this position. It squeezes around your cock as you pound into her. You watch the way her small ass jiggles slightly with each impact. Your hands grip her hips harder for leverage as you drive deeper.
“Ahh-! Harder…”
IU whimpers, dropping her head down onto the mattress while keeping her ass up high for you.
“Fuck me harder…”
You do as she says, slamming into her with rough, powerful thrusts. The new angle lets you hit even deeper, the head of your cock brushing against that sensitive spot inside her with every stroke. Her moans grow louder, sweeter, and more desperate as you rail her from behind. Your hands slide up her back, then grip her shoulders, pulling her back onto your cock as you destroy her tight little cunt.
Your pace picks up, each thrust growing faster and more forceful. The sound of your hips slamming against her ass gets louder. Her tight pussy takes every brutal stroke, squeezing around your thick cock as you drive deeper, the quelching sounds getting louder and wetter.
“Ahh-! Yes… just like that…”
She sinks lower into the mattress under the relentless pounding. Her back arches beautifully, pushing her ass higher for you while her upper body collapses forward. Her arms tremble and give out, no longer able to hold her up. She drops from her hands down onto her forearms, elbows digging into the sheets as she tries to stay in position.
You don’t slow down though. You keep pounding her dripping cunt with raw power, watching her petite body jolt forward with every deep thrust. Her small tits press into the mattress, nipples rubbing against the sheets as she rocks helplessly.
Another few hard strokes and she sinks even further. IU’s face drops down completely, forehead and cheeks pressed into the mattress. Her arms go limp, lying uselessly beside her head like she can’t even control them anymore. She’s no longer on all fours. She’s face-down, ass-up, completely surrendered to your cock.
You lean over her, one hand pressing down between her shoulder blades to keep her pinned while your other hand grips her waist. You fuck her like that. With animalistic strokes that make her soaked pussy squelch and spasm around you.
Her moans are muffled by the mattress now, turning into desperate, broken whimpers the longer you use her.
“Mmmph-! Hah-!”
The new angle lets you hit even deeper inside her. Her walls flutter and clench around your cock as you destroy her from behind, her entire body shaking under the force of your pounding. Her ass jiggles with every impact, her pussy creaming all over your shaft.
You keep railing her like this, while IU lies there face-down, arms limp beside her, taking every inch like the perfect little slut she is right now.
You use her like a personal fleshlight. Your grip on her hips is bruising as you slam into her soaked pussy with long, savage strokes. You pull her back onto your cock just as hard as you thrust forward. The wet, filthy sounds of her cunt squelching around your thick shaft fill the entire room. Every thrust makes her petite body jolt forward, her face still buried in the mattress.
IU’s moans grow louder, turning into desperate, broken cries that are half-muffled by the sheets.
“Ahh-! Fuck-! So good…!”
Suddenly her voice cracks with need.
“Pull my hair… please-! Pull my hair hard-!”
You don’t hesitate. You reach forward, grab a thick fistful of her soft dark hair, and yank her head back sharply. IU hisses loudly through her teeth from the pain, but her pussy clenches violently around your cock at the same time, gushing fresh wetness down your shaft. You pull her upper body off the mattress until she’s forced back into that perfect arched position. Her ass is high in the air, back curved deeply, head yanked back by your hand in her hair. Her arms hang uselessly at her sides. The black lace mask stays firmly in place, but you can see the way her mouth hangs open in pure bliss, tongue slightly out.
You keep fucking her like this, using her hair like reins while you destroy her cunt. Each powerful thrust makes her small body rock forward only to be yanked back onto your cock by the grip on her hair.
“Yes-! Yes-! Like that-! Harder… please fuck me harder…! Don’t stop…!”
She’s completely lost in it now, shamelessly begging while you rail her from behind. Her pussy flutters and squeezes around you in a distinct pattern, getting wetter and tighter with every stroke. You can feel her getting dangerously close again, her thighs shaking, her back arching even more desperately into your hold.
You keep pounding her dripping twat without mercy, hair wrapped tightly around your fist, using her like your own personal toy as another powerful orgasm builds rapidly inside her. Your other hand slides from her slim waist down between her legs. Your fingers find her swollen, slippery clit and start rubbing tight, fast circles over it.
IU’s moans turn into sharp, desperate screams.
“Ahh-! Fuck-! Right th-there-! Don’t stop-!”
Her whole body starts trembling like crazy. Her pussy clenches and flutters madly around your cock, getting impossibly tighter, making it harder for you to fuck her with full force. You keep rubbing her clit faster, trying to pound her harder, refusing to slow down even for a second.
Then she breaks.
IU cums hard with a loud, broken cry. Her entire body convulses as a powerful orgasm rips through her. To your shock, she actually squirts. A hot rush of clear fluid gushes out around your cock, soaking your thighs, her ass, and the sheets beneath her. The force of it pushes your cock completely out of her spasming pussy.
You stare down in disbelief, breathing hard.
“Holy shit.”
You just made IU - or at least a girl who looks and sounds exactly like her - cum twice on your cock… and now she’s squirting all over your hotel bed. Her petite body shakes and quivers nonstop, legs twitching, back still arched from your grip on her hair. She lets out a long, broken whimper before finally collapsing flat onto her stomach, completely spent. Her arms lie limp beside her head, ass still slightly raised, her soaked pussy visibly pulsing and dripping.
You kneel there for a moment, your cock rock-hard and glistening with her juices, just watching her twitch and recover.
Then the hunger takes over again. You move closer, grab your slick cock, and line it up with her dripping entrance once more. Without waiting, you push forward and thrust back inside her.
IU gasps sharply. Her body jerks as you fill her again.
You immediately resume pounding her, fucking her into the mattress while she’s still trying to catch her breath from that shattering orgasm. Her pussy is even wetter now. It’s hot and sloppy from her squirt, making every thrust sound way louder.
She whimpers weakly beneath you, barely able to string different words together.
“W-wait… I just… ahh-!”
But you don’t slow down. You grip her hips and keep railing her soaked cunt. You chase your own pleasure while she lies there, helplessly taking it. Your hips snap forward harder and faster, slamming into IU’s soaked pussy with punishing strokes. You grip her hips tightly, pulling her back onto you with every thrust while she lies face-down beneath you.
“I’m gonna cum…I’m gonna cum in your pussy-”
IU’s voice cracks with lust.
“Yes-! Please cum inside me!”
She begs, pushing her ass back against you.
“Breed me… fill me up… pump your cum deep in my womb, please-!”
You bury yourself as deep as you can go…and explode.
Thick, heavy ropes of cum flood her pussy. They paint her insides as your cock pulses again and again. You groan, grinding against her ass while you empty every drop into her. The sensation of pumping your load straight into her tight, twitching cunt is mind-blowing. You stay buried deep inside her for a long moment, savoring the warmth and the way her walls flutter around you, milking every last spurt. Only when your orgasm finally fades do you slowly pull out.
A thick glob of your cum immediately leaks from her freshly fucked pussy, dripping down her thighs onto the ruined sheets. You sit back on your heels, breathing hard, staring at the mess you made. Your cum is still drying on her masked face and now leaking steadily from her pussy. The disbelief hits you all over again.
Did I really just fuck IU and creampie her? Twice?
You decide right then not to ask. If she says she isn’t IU, the fantasy will shatter. Keeping the illusion alive feels way hotter.
IU reaches weakly for her phone on the nightstand and stops the recording. She turns halfway onto her side. She looks at you with a tired but satisfied smile.
“Wow… that was amazing.”
She says with a pleased laugh.
“You really know how to fuck. Best content I’ve shot in a long time.”
You chat for a couple of minutes. Small talk about how good it felt, how wet she got, how hard she came. Then she bites her lip.
“I wouldn’t mind doing this again sometime… on camera or off.”
Your heart jumps. She holds out her phone to you.
“Put your number in.”
You quickly type it in. Your fingers shake. She takes the phone back, then slowly gets up on shaky legs. She grabs the white hotel robe from the floor and slips it on, tying it loosely around her waist.
“Mmm… I can feel your cum running down my legs already.”
She says with a playful grin, shifting her thighs.
“I should probably shower.”
You smirk.
“Want some company?”
IU laughs and shakes her head.
“No thank you… I’m gonna need some time to recover after that pounding you gave me.”
She walks over to the door, still a little unsteady on her feet. Before she leaves, she turns back one last time.
“Thanks again. I’ll text you.”
You manage to hide your disappointment as she slips out into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind her.
You sit there alone in your hotel room, still naked, cock covered in her juices, staring at the messy bed.
It works for both!! There’s non smut writers on the platform already it’s just a platform for writers and readers in general :) meant to be wholesome so no weird stuff. <3 like UA and non-con stuff
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(Karina X Giselle X Winter X Ningning X Irene X Seulgi X Wendy X Joy X Yeri X Male Reader) Word count: 25092 words
Seulgi's eyes dart from Irene's cum-drenched face to your spent cock, still glistening with lube. Her cheeks flush a deep pink, but she doesn't look away. If anything, her gaze lingers, tracing the sticky trails on Irene's skin, the way a fresh drop slides from her leader's chin and lands on the floor.
Irene doesn't move. She stays kneeling, still somehow radiating confidence, even with her face painted like a masterpiece of cum. Slowly, she turns her head toward Seulgi, her expression calm, almost amused. A strand of cum clings to her eyelash, but she doesn't blink it away. Instead, she licks her lips, tasting the salty evidence of your climax, and smiles.
"Seulgi-yah, close the door."
Seulgi hesitates, her hand still on the doorknob. Her bodysuit clings to her, clearly showing her breasts rising and falling with her quickened breaths. The unbuttoned pants hang loose around her hips with the thin straps of her panties clearly visible. She looks like she was about to change into some different clothes.
"I... I didn't mean to interrupt."
Seulgi stammers, but her feet don't move. Her eyes flick back to you, then to Irene again. There's shock there, yes, but also something else. Curiosity? Envy? Heat?
Irene tilts her head slightly, cum dripping from her jaw onto her dress, staining the pristine white fabric.
"You're not interrupting. You're joining."
Your heart stutters. Joining? You glance at Irene, still catching your breath, your cock twitching weakly at the implication. You knew when Irene suggested this meeting it’d be about making you cum. What you didn’t expect was her inviting Seulgi as well.
The younger woman’s eyes widen, but she steps inside, pushing the door shut behind her with a quiet click. The room feels smaller now. She leans against the door, arms crossing over her chest as if she’s hesitant, but it only pushes her breasts up further, drawing your gaze despite everything.
“Unnie, what... what is this?"
Irene rises slowly to her feet, graceful even in her messy state. She doesn't wipe her face, doesn't even acknowledge the cum cooling on her skin. Instead, she steps toward Seulgi, her heels clicking softly on the floor.
"This,…"
She says, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Seulgi's ear.
"Is what happens when a good boy finally cums."
Seulgi swallows hard, her gaze dropping to Irene's stained dress, then back up.
"Was that a problem before?"
She asks, her voice a little higher. As if she’s curious to why Irene had to make you cum.
Irene glances over her shoulder at you, her smile widening.
"He's had a little bit of trouble at first. But look at him now. Empty. Drained. All because of me."
She turns back to Seulgi, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.
"Don't you want a taste, Seulgi-yah? You've been so good lately. Practicing extra hours, helping with the choreo... You deserve a reward."
Your pulse races. Seulgi's cheeks burn redder, but she doesn't pull away when Irene leans in closer, their faces inches apart. Irene's cum-smeared cheek brushes against Seulgi's clean one, leaving a faint streak. Seulgi gasps softly, but her eyes flutter half-closed.
"I... I don't know."
Seulgi murmurs, but her body betrays her. Her hips shift. Her thighs press together. She's tempted. You can see it in the way her fingers twitch at her sides, like she's fighting the urge to touch.
Irene chuckles, then steps back, gesturing toward you.
"Come here."
She commands Seulgi, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"Kneel with me."
Seulgi hesitates for one more beat, her eyes finally meeting yours. There's a spark there. Nervous, excited, hungry. Then she moves, crossing the room with tentative steps until she's beside Irene, lowering herself to her knees. Now there are two of them before you: Irene, messy and triumphant, Seulgi, pristine and eager, her bodysuit hugging every curve.
Irene reaches over, her hand sliding to the back of Seulgi's neck, guiding her forward.
"Taste him. From me."
Seulgi leans in, her tongue darting out carefully to lick a trail of cum from Irene's cheek. The older woman hums in approval. Her free hand reaches for your cock again, stroking lazily as if to coax it back to life. You groan, oversensitive but already stirring under her touch.
"Good girl."
Irene praises, her eyes locked on yours.
"Now, let's see if he’s good for another load."
Seulgi moans softly against Irene's skin, licking another streak clean, her confidence growing with each pass. Her hand joins Irene's on your shaft, their fingers intertwining in a slick, coordinated rhythm. The sensation is overwhelming. Two hands, two mouths inches away. You lean back in the chair, watching them, your body igniting again despite the exhaustion. NNN is over for you, shattered in the best way possible. But as Irene and Seulgi work you over, you can't help but wonder: How will you explain this to Karina? Or... should you even try?
The thought fades as Seulgi's lips brush your tip, tentative at first, then bolder. Irene watches, smiling wickedly.
"That's it."
She coos.
"Make him hard again. We have all afternoon."
Seulgi's tongue flicks out again, bolder this time, lapping another thick stripe of your cum from Irene's cheek. The older woman hums approvingly, her fingers still loosely curled around the base of your cock, keeping it angled toward their mouths. Seulgi's lips close around the streak she just collected, sucking it clean with a soft, wet sound that sends a fresh jolt straight to your groin.
You twitch in Irene's grip. She notices. Her dark eyes flick up to meet yours, lips curling into a knowing smile. A fresh bead of your cum clings to her lower lip. She drags her tongue across it slowly, never breaking eye contact.
"Look at that. Not even two minutes and he's already waking up again."
Seulgi pulls back just enough to glance at your cock, now thickening noticeably between Irene's fingers, and lets out a soft, surprised laugh that vibrates against Irene's skin.
"Unnie… he's really sensitive right now."
"Of course he is."
Irene replies, strokes you once, lazily, spreading the leftover lube and the slick remnants of your orgasm.
"He just came on my face.”
Your hips jerk involuntarily. The oversensitivity is almost painful, but you feel yourself getting closer to enjoying it again. You can already feel that familiar coil tightening low in your stomach again. Your cock starts pulsing hard against Irene's palm like it forgot it just emptied everything it had.
Seulgi leans in closer, hesitant at first, then braver. Her tongue darts out and traces the underside of your shaft, right where Irene's fingers are wrapped. The dual sensation - Irene's firm grip and Seulgi's warm, tentative licks - makes your breath hitch audibly.
"Fuck."
You mutter, head falling back against the chair.
Irene chuckles darkly.
"See? Told you he has more for us."
Seulgi's eyes lift to yours for a heartbeat, before she opens her mouth and takes the head between her lips. Just the tip. Soft suction. No bobbing yet. Just holding you there, letting her tongue swirl lazily around the sensitive ridge while Irene keeps that slow, steady stroke at the base.
The sight alone is almost enough to finish you.
Irene, still fully dressed in that now ruined white dress, face absolutely painted with thick ropes of your cum, some of it drying in sticky trails down her neck, some still glistening wet, kneeling beside Seulgi, guiding your cock like she’s feeding it to her.
Seulgi, black bodysuit clinging to her body, pants still unbuttoned and sagging low on her hips, exposing the thin straps of her panties, lips stretched prettily around your tip, cheeks hollowing as she starts to suck in earnest.
Your hands fist the arms of the chair so hard your knuckles blanch. You can feel something building already. That tight, electric pressure behind your balls, the kind that says you're on your way toward another orgasm already. You force a ragged breath through your teeth.
"Wait-fuck-I'm… I'm already-"
Irene's free hand slides up your thigh, nails digging in just enough to keep you from focusing on the pleasure.
"Shhh. Hold it."
Seulgi hums around your cock in agreement. The vibration rips another groan out of you. She pulls off for a moment, then immediately dives back down, taking you deeper this time. Halfway. Her tongue flattens against the underside as she starts a slow, sinful bob. Irene leans in beside her. Their cheeks brush - Seulgi's clean skin against Irene's cum-streaked one - and then Irene's tongue joins in, licking along the side of your shaft wherever Seulgi's mouth isn't covering. They move in perfect tandem, like they've done this before, trading places seamlessly: Seulgi sucking the head while Irene laps at the base, then switching so Irene can take you deep into her throat while Seulgi tongues your balls.
Your hips buck once, twice, before you force them still. Every muscle in your body locks tight, fighting the rising tide. You can feel your cock swelling impossibly harder in their mouths, leaking steadily now, pre-cum mixing with their spit and the drying remnants of your last load. Irene pulls back just long enough to speak against your slick skin.
"You're doing so well."
She praises, voice dripping with mock sweetness.
"Look how hard you're trying not to cum again already. Cute."
Seulgi giggles softly, the sound muffled around your length, before she takes you even deeper, nose brushing Irene's cum-streaked cheek.
You groan louder.
"Not yet."
Irene whispers, licking a slow stripe up the side of your cock until her tongue meets Seulgi's at the tip. They kiss around you, open-mouthed, filthy, tongues sliding together over your leaking slit, before diving back down in unison.
Two sets of lips. Two tongues swirling. Irene's hand pumping what their mouths can't reach. Your vision blurs at the edges. The pressure is unbearable now, coiling so tight it hurts. You can feel every individual pulse, every throb, every fresh bead of pre-cum they eagerly lap away.
But beneath the overwhelming need to explode again, something else flickers to life. Excitement. Raw, greedy excitement. Because if you can just hold on a little longer… If you can survive this dual assault without painting their faces a second time right now… Then maybe, maybe, you'll get to fuck both of them. The thought alone makes your cock jump violently between their lips.
Irene feels it. Seulgi moans around you in response. They don't let up. They just keep sucking.
You swallow hard, voice rough and barely above a whisper.
“Can I… fuck her?”
The words hang in the air like smoke.
Seulgi freezes mid-lick, lips still wrapped loosely around your tip. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, wide, glassy, cheeks flaming red even through the flush of arousal. She doesn’t pull off right away. Instead, she gives one last slow, heavy suck before letting you slip free with a wet pop. A thin string of saliva clings between her lower lip and your cock before it snaps.
She looks embarrassed. Needy. Almost shy. Irene’s grin is dangerous. She leans back on her heels, still kneeling, face glistening with the drying evidence of your first orgasm, and lets out a low, pleased hum.
“Because you painted my face so prettily.”
She drags a fingertip through a thick streak on her cheek and brings it to her lips.
“You’re allowed.”
Seulgi’s breath hitches audibly. She glances between you and Irene, biting her bottom lip hard enough to leave a small indent.
Then, voice small but trembling with heat, she asks:
“Do you… want to bend me over?”
You nod so fast like never before.
Seulgi exhales shakily, a tiny, nervous laugh escaping her. She rises to her feet and turns toward the wide table in the center of the room. Without another word she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her already unbuttoned black pants and shimmies them down her long legs, kicking them aside carelessly. The thin straps of her black thong ride high on her hips, framing the perfect curve of her ass. She glances back at you once, lust glistening in her eyes, then bends forward, planting both palms flat on the table. Slowly, she lowers her upper body until her chest and forearms are pressed against the cool surface, back arched, ass presented high. The deep side cutouts of her bodysuit expose the smooth dip of her waist. The fabric stretches taut across her ass, outlining the perfect heart shape.
Irene moves first. She steps up beside Seulgi, elegant even with cum still streaking her face and neck and reaches for the row of small press-studs running vertically down the front of Seulgi’s bodysuit, right above her mound. One by one she pops them open with practiced ease - snap, snap, snap - until the fabric parts like curtains.
The material snaps back to either side, revealing Seulgi completely. No panties underneath the bodysuit after all. Just smooth, bare skin and a glistening, swollen pussy already slick with arousal. Her folds are puffy, clit peeking out, inner thighs shining faintly.
Seulgi whimpers softly at the sudden exposure, hips shifting like she can’t decide whether to hide or push back.
Irene doesn’t give her the chance to second-guess.
She places both hands on Seulgi’s ass and spreads her cheeks apart, opening her wide for you.
“Look at her.”
Irene purrs, voice thick with satisfaction.
“So wet already. Practically dripping for you.”
Seulgi’s face is turned to the side, cheek pressed to the table, eyes squeezed shut in mortified pleasure. A fresh shiver runs through her entire body. Irene glances back at you over her shoulder, eyes glittering.
“You can be as rough with her as you want.”
She says calmly, like she’s granting permission for something as simple as borrowing a pen.
“She likes it. Don’t you, Seulgi-yah?”
A muffled, desperate whine is Seulgi’s only answer.
You push off the chair on unsteady legs, cock so hard it almost hurts. The tip is still slick with their combined spit. You step up behind Seulgi, drinking in the sight. Her long legs trembling slightly, back arched to perfection, Irene’s fingers keeping her spread open, pretty pink pussy clenching around nothing.
You wrap one hand around the base of your cock and guide the head to her entrance. The moment you nudge against her, Seulgi gasps and instinctively pushes back, trying to take you inside. You freeze with your tip just barely kissing Seulgi’s slick entrance, the heat of her pussy radiating against you, tempting you to sink in deep.
Irene’s voice cuts through the haze.
“Wait. That’s the wrong hole.”
Your brain short-circuits for a second.
Seulgi’s entire body jolts beneath you. Her back arches higher, a startled little whimper escaping her lips. She tries to twist her head around to look at Irene, cheek still pressed to the table, eyes wide and glassy with confusion and sudden heat.
“Unnie…?”
Seulgi’s voice trembles.
Irene doesn’t let go of Seulgi’s ass cheeks. If anything, her fingers dig in a fraction deeper, keeping her spread wide and vulnerable. She tilts her head toward the small bottle of lube still sitting on the edge of the table. The same one she’d used on you earlier. Her cum-streaked face is perfectly composed, lips curved in that serene, wicked smile.
“You heard me.”
Seulgi lets out a shaky exhale that’s half moan, half nervous laugh. Her thighs quiver. You can see the fine tremor running through them.
You reach for the bottle without thinking. The cap is still open. You tip it over your cock and cool, thick liquid spills down the shaft in a generous stream, dripping over your length and onto Seulgi’s exposed skin below. You coat yourself thoroughly, stroking once, twice, until you’re gleaming again.
Then you shift. You drag the slick head upward, tracing the tight little pucker of her asshole. Seulgi sucks in a sharp breath. Her whole body tenses, then melts just as quickly, hips tilting back instinctively even as her fingers curl against the table.
“Jin-wol…”
She whispers, voice cracking with a mix of nerves and raw need.
“Go slow first… please?”
Her plea is so soft it almost breaks you. Irene catches your eye over Seulgi’s arched back. She winks. The message is crystal clear.
“Do whatever you want.”
Her fingers tighten, spreading Seulgi even wider, exposing that tight ring completely. You press forward. The head of your cock meets firm resistance at first. Seulgi gasps, her rim fluttering against you like it’s trying to decide whether to push you out or pull you in. You pause, letting her adjust, letting the lube do its work. You can feel every tiny twitch, every nervous clench.
“Relax for him, baby.”
Irene murmurs, stroking one thumb soothingly along the curve of Seulgi’s ass.
“Breathe.”
Seulgi exhales shakily. You feel her try - feel the moment her body softens just enough.
You push again. The head pops past the first tight ring with a slick, satisfying sound. Seulgi cries out, her voice edged with pleasure. Her back bows higher, knuckles whitening against the table.
“Oh-fuck-”
You stop immediately, buried only an inch or two inside her. Her walls are scorching, impossibly tight, gripping you like a vice. Every heartbeat pulses around your cock. Irene leans down, pressing a soft, filthy kiss to the small of Seulgi’s back.
“Good girl. Look at you taking him so well already.”
Seulgi whimpers, face buried against her forearm now. Her hips twitch, tiny, helpless rocks that push her back onto you another fraction. You groan. The sight alone is devastating. Seulgi bent over the table, ass high, bodysuit snapped open, Irene’s cum still drying on her perfect face while she holds Seulgi open for you like a gift.
You give one shallow thrust, barely moving, and Seulgi moans brokenly.
“More…”
She gasps.
“Please… more…”
Irene chuckles.
“You heard her.”
You don’t need to be told twice. You sink in another inch, then another, slow and relentless, until your hips are flush against her ass and you’re buried to the hilt inside her impossibly tight heat. Seulgi’s entire body shudders. A long, trembling whine spills from her throat. You grip Seulgi's hips tighter, fingers digging into the soft flesh where her bodysuit meets bare skin, and pull back slowly, feeling every ridge and clench of her impossibly tight ass as you withdraw halfway. The lube makes the slide slick and obscene, a wet schlick echoing in the quiet room with each inch. Seulgi whimpers beneath you, her knuckles white against the table, back arched so perfectly it's like she's offering herself up on a platter. Irene's hands are still there, spreading her wide, thumbs pressing into the plump curves of Seulgi's cheeks to keep her open for your view.
"Deeper."
Irene murmurs, her cum-streaked face hovering close enough that you can feel her breath on your skin.
"Make her feel it."
You snap forward again - harder this time - and Seulgi's cry is muffled against the wood, her body jolting with the impact. Her ass squeezes around you like a vice, hot and unrelenting, every thrust dragging fresh moans from her throat. You build a rhythm. Slow out, brutal in, each one bottoming out with a slap of skin on skin that makes her tremble. Seulgi's legs shake, her thighs flexing as she pushes back to meet you halfway.
"-fuck-yes, like that."
Her voice breaks into a whine when you grind deep, rolling your hips to stir inside her. The tightness is overwhelming. After weeks of denial, every sensation feels amplified. Your cock throbs with the need to claim her completely.
Irene watches, her dark eyes flicking between your face and where you're buried inside Seulgi. Then, without warning, she lifts one hand and brings it down – smack - a sharp slap against Seulgi's right cheek. The flesh jiggles under the impact, a pink handprint blooming almost immediately. Seulgi yelps, her ass clenching harder around you mid-thrust.
"Unnie!"
"Good girl."
Irene purrs again, rubbing the spot soothingly before slapping again – smack - this time on the left. Seulgi's moan is louder, more desperate, her body arching higher as if begging for more. Irene alternates now. A slap every few thrusts, timing them perfectly so that each one makes Seulgi’s hole tighten around you like she's trying to milk your cock. You groan, pace quickening. The added sting seems to drive Seulgi wild. She's babbling now, incoherent pleas spilling from her lips
"Harder, please-don't stop-"
Her pussy is dripping untouched below, slick trailing down her thighs.
After a particularly deep thrust, you pull out halfway again, watching the way her rim grips you, stretched and flushed. Irene leans in closer, pursing her lips. She gathers saliva in her mouth, before tilting her head and letting it dribble down in a thick, glistening string right onto your exposed shaft. The warm spit mixes with the lube, making everything even slicker as you push back in. Seulgi shudders violently.
"Oh god-"
A broken moan escapes her as you fill her again. Irene does it twice more over the next few minutes. Gathering, dribbling, her own cum-dried face inches from the action, like she's blessing the filthy union. You're lost in it - the heat, the tightness, the way Seulgi's ass bounces with every slam, Irene's slaps punctuating the rhythm like a metronome. Sweat beads on Seulgi's back, her bodysuit clinging damply, and you can feel your own high building again, that familiar coil tightening low in your gut.
But Irene shifts suddenly, her free hand trailing up Seulgi's spine.
"This is getting boring."
She says casually, as if commenting on the weather, even as her other hand delivers another sharp smack to Seulgi's ass.
"Switch it up. Fuck her pussy for a bit, then back to her ass. Keep her guessing."
Seulgi whimpers in protest - or anticipation? - but you don't hesitate. You pull out fully, Seulgi's hole winking at the sudden emptiness. Her pussy is right there below, swollen and dripping, clenching needily. You align quickly and thrust in, deep, easy, her slick walls welcoming you like velvet.
"Fuck-yes!"
Seulgi cries, pushing back hard. Her pussy is looser than her ass but no less hot, juices coating your cock immediately as you pound into her. The change in sensation is dizzying. From tight resistance to wet, fluttering embrace. You fuck her like this for a dozen strokes, hard and fast, her moans rising in pitch. Then you switch, pulling out and sliding right back into her ass without warning. Seulgi's back bows, a strangled gasp tearing from her throat.
"Too much-"
But she doesn't stop you. If anything, she grinds back, chasing the fullness.
You alternate now: five thrusts in her pussy, then three in her ass, then back. The lube and her arousal mix into a filthy slurry that drips down her thighs. Irene keeps her spread, slapping occasionally, her eyes gleaming with approval.
Every few switches, Irene intervenes more directly. You pull out of Seulgi's pussy, cock gleaming with her juices, and before you can realign, Irene lowers her head. Her mouth engulfs you, cleaning you off in one deep bob. She hums around you, tasting Seulgi on your skin, her tongue swirling to lap up every drop.
"Delicious."
She murmurs against your tip before pulling off, guiding you back to Seulgi's ass.
"Now fuck her harder."
You do. Thrust after thrust, switching holes seamlessly now. Her pussy is slick and forgiving, her is ass tight and demanding. Seulgi's a mess. Sobbing into the table, hips bucking wildly, her bodysuit rumpled and stained with sweat and lube. Irene spits again during one pull-out, the dribble landing perfectly where you need it, then slaps Seulgi's cheek hard enough to make her clench mid-thrust.
"Such a good little slut for you. Aren't you, Seulgi-yah?"
"Yes-unnie-please don't stop-"
You switch again. Out of her ass, into her pussy, slamming deep. Irene leans down once more, sucking you clean mid-switch, her lips stretching around your girth. She pulls off, a string of saliva and Seulgi's arousal connecting her mouth to your cock, before nodding you back in.
The pattern drags on. Thrust, slap, spit, suck, switch. Your stamina is getting pushed to the limit after your earlier release, but the sheer filth of it keeps you going. Seulgi's moans turn to wails, her body shaking uncontrollably, pussy and ass both fluttering wildly around you. Irene's face, still painted with your cum, hovers close, directing the scene.
You feel Seulgi tightening. Her orgasm is building. You chase it, switching faster now. Ass, pussy, ass, each hole getting only a few thrusts before the next. Irene slaps harder, spits thicker strings, sucks deeper during the cleanses.
Seulgi breaks first.
"I'm-cuming-fuck!"
She screams, body convulsing as her pussy gushes around you mid-thrust. You switch to her ass one last time, pounding through her climax, feeling her clench and pulse in waves that nearly drag you over the edge with her.
Irene laughs, now rubbing Seulgi's clit furiously.
"That's it. Cum for him. Squeeze that cock."
Seulgi slumps against the table, spent but still trembling, as you slow your pace, savoring the aftershocks. She's a beautiful wreck, face flushed, bodysuit disheveled and snapped open at the crotch, ass still slightly pink from Irene's slaps, her holes glistening with a mix of lube, spit, and her own arousal. She whimpers softly, forehead pressed to the cool surface, thighs quivering like she might collapse if you weren't still buried halfway inside her ass, holding her in place. You slow to a stop, cock throbbing angrily inside her, so close to the edge again that every tiny clench from her feels like torture. Sweat drips down your back, your muscles burning from the relentless pace, but the high is intoxicating. You pull out inch by inch, watching her rim flutter and grip at you until you're free with a wet, filthy pop. Seulgi gasps at the emptiness, her body slumping further as she recovers, mumbling incoherently into the table.
Irene doesn't waste a second. She releases Seulgi's cheeks at last, the flesh jiggling back into place with faint red marks from her grip. Then, with that same graceful, predatory elegance, she shifts forward on her knees. Her cum-streaked face, still absolutely painted with thick, drying ropes of your first load, hovers close to Seulgi's ass. Without a word, Irene rests her cheek against one plush globe. Her flawless skin, smeared and sticky, pressed to Seulgi's sweat-dampened curve like it's the most natural pillow in the world. Her dark eyes lock onto yours, lips curving into a sultry smile.
"Don't think you're done yet."
One hand wraps around the base of your cock and guides it to her mouth. You can't believe this is happening. Irene, face covered in your cum, now sucking you off while using her member's ass as a headrest. And Seulgi, who just let you wreck both her holes like she was made for it. You've fucked them both by now. Your mind reels, pulse hammering in your ears. How did NNN lead to this? Weeks of teasing, denial, blue balls, and now you're balls-deep in a fantasy that feels too good to be real. These two women, just doing everything for your cock.
Irene's lips part, and she takes you in deep with no hesitation. Her mouth is warm, wet heaven. Her tongue swirls around the head to clean off every trace of Seulgi. She hums low in her throat, the vibration shooting straight up your spine, as she bobs slowly. Her free hand cups your balls, rolling them gently, while the other strokes what she can't fit in her mouth. The taste, Seulgi's pussy, her ass, the lube, your pre-cum, doesn't faze her. If anything, it makes her suck harder, cheeks hollowing with each pull.
Seulgi stirs beneath her, a soft moan escaping as Irene's weight shifts on her ass.
"Unnie..."
She whispers, voice weak and spent, but there's no protest, just a lazy roll of her hips like she's still chasing aftershocks.
You groan, hips bucking involuntarily into Irene's mouth. She's relentless. Deepthroating you in one smooth motion, then pulling back to lick long, flat stripes up the underside, her tongue tracing every vein. Spit dribbles from her lips, mixing with the mess on her face, but she doesn't care. Instead, she gathers more saliva and lets it drip onto your shaft mid-suck, making everything even sloppier.
Minutes drag on like this. Irene working you over with expert precision, her head bobbing in a steady rhythm, using Seulgi's ass as leverage to angle herself perfectly. Your thighs burn, cock aching with the need for release, but she keeps you teetering on the edge, slowing whenever you get too close. Seulgi's breathing evens out beneath her, the younger one recovering bit by bit, her whimpers turning to soft sighs.
Finally, Irene pulls off, after giving your tip one last messy kiss.
“Enough. Sit down again. I'm going to ride you now. And you better finish inside me this time. Fill me up properly."
Your legs feel like jelly, but you obey without question, staggering back to the chair and collapsing into it. Your cock stands straight up, slick and throbbing, begging for more. Irene rises gracefully, her white dress, now stained with cum, lube, and sweat, clinging to her curves. She doesn't bother fixing it. Instead, she hikes it up around her waist, revealing smooth thighs and a glimpse of her own arousal-soaked panties. She straddles you, knees planting on either side of your hips, her heat radiating against your cock even through the thin fabric. But she doesn't sink down yet. Her hands brace on your shoulders, nails digging in lightly as she grinds down, rubbing her clothed pussy along your length. The lace of her panties drags against you, wet and warm, teasing the head with every pass.
"Feel that?"
She whispers, leaning in close, her cum-dried lips brushing your ear.
"I've been wet since you painted my face. Watching you fuck her... it made me ache."
You groan, hands instinctively grabbing her waist, but she swats them away.
"Not yet."
She strokes your cock, one hand wrapping around your shaft, pumping lazily while she continues to grind. Her thumb circles the tip, spreading the pre-cum that's leaking steadily now. At the same time, her free hand trails up your chest, nails scraping lightly, before she leans in and kisses your neck.
"You're so hard for me. After all that with Seulgi... still ready to give me your cum? Good boy."
Her hips roll faster now, panties soaking through, the friction maddening but not enough. You buck up instinctively, chasing more, but she lifts just out of reach with a soft laugh.
"Patience."
Seulgi stirs during this, pushing up from the table with a low groan, her legs still shaky. She turns, bodysuit hanging open, tits straining against the tight fabric, pussy still glistening from her orgasm. Her eyes lock onto the scene: Irene teasing you mercilessly in your lap. A small, wicked smile curves her lips as she recovers fully, sauntering over on wobbly legs.
"Room for one more?"
Seulgi asks, voice husky from her cries.
Irene glances back.
"Always."
She finally reaches down, pulling her panties to the side with one hand while guiding your cock with the other. The head nudges her entrance, slick and hot, and she sinks down just an inch, before pausing.
"Ready?"
Before you can answer, Seulgi's there, cupping your face and turning you toward her. Her lips crash into yours in a deep, hungry kiss, tongue sliding in immediately, tasting of salt and sex. You moan into her mouth as Irene sinks lower, taking you fully into her pussy in one slow motion.
Irene's walls are velvet fire, tight, wet, clenching around you like she was made for this. She bottoms out with a soft gasp, hips settling flush against yours, and starts to ride. Slow rolls at first, building to a steady bounce. Her dress bunches higher, tits bouncing beneath the fabric, her cum-streaked face flushed with pleasure.
You kiss Seulgi harder, one hand flying to Irene's waist for balance as she picks up speed, up and down, grinding deep on every downstroke. Your other hand roams to Seulgi's chest, palming her tits through the bodysuit. The fabric is thin, her nipples hard and pebbled beneath your fingers. You squeeze, pinch, roll them between thumb and forefinger until she whimpers into your mouth.
"More."
Seulgi breathes against your lips, breaking the kiss to nip at your jaw.
"Touch me... please."
Your hand wanders lower, down her toned stomach, past the snapped-open crotch of her bodysuit, to her pussy. She's still dripping, folds swollen and sensitive from earlier. You circle her clit first, light and teasing, making her hips buck into your touch. Then you slide two fingers inside and curl them, pumping in time with Irene's rides. Seulgi moans loudly, head falling back, her hand bracing on your shoulder as she grinds onto your fingers.
"Yes-fuck-right there-"
Irene's pace quickens. Her pussy squeezes you rhythmically. Wet sounds fill the room with every bounce. She's relentless, lifting almost off you before slamming down, rolling her hips to hit that perfect angle inside her.
"That's it."
She pants, nails digging into your shoulders.
"Fuck me-fill me-"
You thrust up to meet her, the chair creaking beneath you, while your fingers fuck Seulgi harder - three now, curling deep, thumb on her clit. Seulgi's walls flutter around you, her second orgasm building fast. She kisses you again her nails trails down your neck.
The sensations overlap. Irene's tight heat milking you, Seulgi's pussy clenching on your fingers, her tits heaving under your palm when you switch hands briefly to grope her again. Irene leans forward, her breath hot on your ear.
"Cum inside me. You’re so close…”
Seulgi cums first though, gushing around your fingers with a sharp cry, her body shuddering against you. The sight pushes you closer. Her flushed face, Irene's bouncing form, the way they both use you like their personal toy.
Irene clenches hard, one last deep grind, and you lose it. You thrust up, burying deep as you spill inside her, rope after rope flooding her pussy. She moans triumphantly, riding through it, milking every drop until you're spent and twitching. Seulgi collapses against your side, panting, as Irene slows to a stop, your cock still inside her.
"Good boy. But we're not done yet."
Irene doesn't give you much time to recover. She's still seated fully on your lap, your cock buried deep inside her pulsing heat, your cum slowly leaking out around the base where you're joined. She rolls her hips once, testing your sensitivity, and you hiss through your teeth at the overstimulation.
"Already twitching again."
She murmurs, voice low and amused, her cum-streaked face hovering inches from yours.
"Good. I want you hard for another round."
She starts riding you properly now, lifting herself until only the head remains inside her, then dropping back down with controlled force. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the room again, her pussy gripping you like a glove every time she bottoms out. She's not rushing. Each downward motion is measured, deep, grinding her clit against your pelvis on the upstroke. Her nails dig into your shoulders for leverage as she picks up a steady rhythm, tits bouncing beneath the stained white dress, the fabric riding higher with every bounce.
Seulgi, meanwhile, has pushed herself upright again. Her legs are still shaky, but the haze of her orgasm is clearing, replaced by a hungry gleam in her eyes. She reaches behind her back and unzips her bodysuit. The tight fabric peels away from her shoulders like a second skin, sliding down her arms and pooling at her waist. Her breasts spill free, nipples already hard from earlier teasing and the cool air of the room. She doesn't stop there. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband, she shimmies the rest of the bodysuit down her hips, stepping out of it completely. The black material lands in a careless heap beside her discarded pants. Now she's entirely naked. Her skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat, pussy still swollen and slick from your fingers and her own climax.
By the time she's fully bare, your cock is rock-hard again inside Irene, throbbing, leaking, impossibly ready despite everything. The sight of Seulgi standing there completely exposed, watching Irene ride you with dark, wanting eyes, it hits you. Seulgi steps closer, straddling one of your thighs so she can lean over you. Her breasts hang heavy and perfect right in front of your face.
"Suck."
She whispers, voice still hoarse from moaning. One hand cups the back of your head, guiding you forward. You don't hesitate. Your mouth closes around one nipple faintly tasting salt and skin. You suck hard, tongue flicking over the peak, then switch to the other when she whimpers and arches into you. Seulgi's fingers tighten in your hair, hips grinding slowly against your thigh as she chases the friction. Irene moans above you, her rhythm faltering for a second at the sight.
"Look at you two."
She pants, slamming down harder now, chasing her own peak.
"Can't get enough of each other… or of me."
She rides faster, her pussy clenching rhythmically around your cock. The chair creaks beneath the three of you. Seulgi's free hand reaches down to rub her own clit in tight circles while you lavish attention on her tits, sucking, biting gently, leaving faint marks that make her gasp.
The room is filled with nothing but wet sounds, heavy breathing, and broken moans. Irene's nails rake down your chest. Seulgi's thighs tremble against yours. Your hips start thrusting up to meet Irene's drops, the overstimulation long since burned away into pure, desperate need.
Irene leans forward, forehead pressing to yours, voice wrecked and commanding at the same time.
"Cum with me."
She orders. "Fill me again-"
Seulgi's breath hitches against your ear as she grinds harder against your thigh, chasing her third orgasm of the afternoon.
You’re sprawled on the couch in the dim living room, legs stretched out, one arm slung lazily over the backrest. The TV is on, some random Knowing Bros episode, but the volume is low enough that the apartment feels quieter than it should. Karina is curled up on the opposite end, knees tucked under a blanket, scrolling through her phone. The dynamic between you two has been… off. Not hostile. Not even tense, exactly. Just strange. Like there’s an invisible wire stretched across the cushions, humming with potential tension. You know she failed NNN already. You heard her. The moans and sighs through the bedroom door when you made Giselle cum on your fingers. But you still haven’t said anything. You just let it sit between you like a secret she doesn’t know you’re keeping. But sometimes you catch her looking at you, sideways glances when she thinks you’re distracted, and there’s this tiny, knowing glint in her eye. Like she’s waiting for you to crack first. Like she suspects you faked it with Winter that day in her room, even though you’re certain she couldn’t have distinguished your real cum from your fake one. The thought loops in your head. Maybe she faked it too. Maybe that little solo session of hers was theater…another layer of the game. You can’t prove it. You can’t even ask without sounding paranoid. So you both sit in this weird, polite limbo. Smiling. Making small talk. Pretending the air isn’t thick with your thoughts of winning or losing this stupid bet.
Behind you, the soft click of a door. Footsteps pad across the hardwood. You don’t turn your head, but every nerve ending tracks Giselle’s path as she moves from the guest room toward the kitchen. You can picture her: oversized hoodie, bare legs, hair loose and messy from napping or scrolling or whatever she does when she hides in there.
You haven’t really spoken since that night. The night you pressed her against the bedroom door, fingers buried inside her while Karina was masturbating, or pretending to. The way Giselle bit her own wrist to stay quiet. The way she came so hard her knees buckled and you had to hold her up. Afterward she just slipped back into her room without a word. No goodnight. No eye contact the next morning. Nothing. The silence has been louder than any conversation.
Now the fridge door opens. A soft clink of glass. The rustle of plastic. She’s making something, probably one of those fruit bowls she likes to make. Karina glances toward the kitchen, then back to her phone. Doesn’t comment. A minute later, Giselle appears at the edge of the living room. She hesitates like she’s debating whether to keep walking or bolt back to her room. In the end she chooses the couch. She sits at the far end, closest to Karina but leaving a careful gap between all three of you. In her lap is a glass bowl of cut strawberries, mango chunks, and kiwi slices. She spears a piece with a fork, stares at it for a second too long, then puts it in her mouth.
The TV laughs at something you didn’t hear. You feel the couch dip slightly under her weight. Smell the faint citrus of her shampoo. Hear the quiet crunch of fruit between her teeth. No one speaks for a full commercial break.
Your phone buzzes on the cushion beside you. You fish it out, unlock the screen.
“Hey there! Tomorrow night the whole drama cast is going out for drinks first official team bonding thing you coming? 8pm, that rooftop bar in Itaewon don’t flake ㅋㅋ“
You read Yeri’s message twice, then turn slightly toward Karina.
“Yeri just texted. The drama cast is doing drinks tomorrow night. Whole team. Rooftop bar in Itaewon.”
Karina’s thumb pauses mid-scroll. She doesn’t look up right away. When she finally does, her expression is… amused. Not surprised. Not excited. Just quietly, almost smugly entertained. Like she’s already picturing the night in her head and finding it hilarious.
“Sounds fun. You should go.”
There’s no jealousy in it. No warning. Just that tiny upward curve at the corner of her mouth.
“Another chance for you to slip. Another night full of pretty actresses and soju shots. Go ahead. See how long you last.”
You can almost hear it.
Giselle spears another piece of mango. Doesn’t look at either of you. But you notice her fork pauses halfway to her mouth.
You set the phone down on your thigh.
“Yeah.”
You say.
“Maybe.”
Karina hums in agreement, eyes already drifting back to her screen.
The TV drones on. Giselle chews slowly. She keeps her eyes fixed on the bowl in her lap, spearing another strawberry with care, as if the simple act of eating fruit requires her full concentration. But her mind is elsewhere, locked in a loop she can’t escape.
“Tomorrow night. Drinks. The whole drama cast.”
The words repeat like a bad song stuck in her head. She doesn’t need to look at you to know you’re rereading the message. She can feel the subtle shift in the air when you speak to Karina like it’s no big deal. But it is. To her, it is. She imagines it too clearly: you at some dimly lit rooftop bar, surrounded by the cast. Laughing. Clinking glasses. Yeri sitting close - too close - leaning in to whisper something in your ear, her jawline catching the neon lights, her laugh bright and effortless. Yeri, who’s objectively hotter. Nicer legs, more beautiful features... Giselle has seen the way men look at her. The way you might look at her. A sharp, unexpected pang twists in her chest. Jealousy. She hates it. Hates how childish it feels. Hates that she’s even capable of feeling it toward someone who isn’t hers to claim.
“He’s Karina’s boyfriend.”
She reminds herself for the hundredth time today.
“Not yours. Never yours.”
The reminder doesn’t help. If anything, it makes the ache worse. She remembers that night against the door. Your fingers inside her. The way you held her up when her legs gave out. The way she came so hard she saw stars and had to bite her own wrist to keep from screaming loud enough to alert Karina. She’d convinced herself afterward that it would be enough. That one reckless, stolen moment would burn the want out of her system. That she could go back to being the polite guest, the third wheel. But it didn’t work. If anything, it made everything worse.
Now every time you walk past her in the hallway, every time your eyes meet for half a second longer than necessary, every time she hears you and Karina laughing in the next room…it all feeds the same fire. She still wants you. Wants your hands on her again. Wants your mouth. Wants to feel you lose control because of her.
She risks a glance sideways. Karina is still scrolling, legs tucked under the blanket, looking relaxed as always. Giselle’s gaze drifts to you, your profile lit by the soft blue glow of the TV, jaw relaxed, thumb idly tapping the edge of your phone. The same hands that pinned her against the door. The same mouth that whispered her name when she clenched around your fingers.
Her throat tightens. In her head, the fantasy unspools without permission. She sees herself setting the fruit bowl aside. Standing up. Crossing the short distance between the couch ends. Dropping slowly to her knees right there, between your spread legs. She imagines the way your breath would hitch when she reaches for your waistband. The way Karina’s phone would freeze mid-scroll. The silence that would fall over the room…
She pictures her own hands pulling you free. Your cock already hard because you’ve been thinking about her too. She imagines leaning in, mouth open, tongue flicking out to taste you first, just the tip, before taking you deep. The wet heat of her mouth. The way you’d groan despite Karina sitting right there. The way Karina would watch - shocked, frozen, maybe even aroused - while Giselle sucked you off like she’d been starving for it. Right there. In front of her.
The thought sends a fresh pulse of heat between her legs. She shifts slightly on the couch, pressing her thighs together under the oversized hoodie, hoping neither of you notices. She spears another piece of kiwi. Bites down harder than necessary. The tartness bursts on her tongue but does nothing to drown out the images.
“Stop it.”
She thinks.
“This is wrong. So fucking wrong.”
The hostess leads you through the scattered high tables and velvet ropes of the rooftop bar. The night air feels cool against your skin despite the heat lamps glowing overhead. The city sprawls below in a glittering sprawl of lights, neon bleeding into the dark sky, but your focus narrows the moment you spot the corner booth.
Only one person is there.
Yeri.
She sits alone at the table meant for six, legs crossed elegantly, leaning back against the dark cushion with casual confidence. She’s wearing a deep burgundy-black dress, which looks almost black in the low light, a halter-style neckline that shows off the delicate line of her collarbones and highlights subtle swell of her chest underneath. Tiny sequins catch every flicker of the rooftop lights, making the fabric shimmer like liquid obsidian every time she breathes. Her long black hair falls in loose waves over one shoulder. She looks up as you approach, lips curving into that mischievous smile that you know so well already. You stop short for half a second, confusion flickering through you. No other cast members. No group. Just her. She tilts her head, eyes sparkling with amusement as she gestures to the seat beside her.
“Surprised? Sit. You look like you need a drink.”
You slide in next to her, close enough that your knee brushes hers under the table, and the hostess sets down a menu before disappearing back into the crowd. You exhale, trying to shake off the sudden shift in expectation. Part of you had braced for a full table of actors, awkward small talk and shots being passed around. This… this feels more dangerous.
A server appears almost immediately. You order a simple whiskey neat without looking at the menu. Yeri watches you the whole time, chin resting on her hand, that same small smile playing on her lips.
Once the server leaves, you turn to her.
“You said the whole cast was coming.”
She shrugs one bare shoulder.
“I might have… exaggerated. A little.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“You lied.”
“‘Lied’ is such a strong word.”
She leans in closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“If I’d told you the real reason, you wouldn’t have come.”
You lean back, crossing your arms, playing it cool even though your pulse has already picked up.
“And what is the real reason, Yeri?”
She laughs at your attempt at looking composed.
“Relax. It’s not about sex.”
A pause, then she leans even closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“Not right now, anyway.”
You feel the warmth of her breath and the faint scent of her perfume. Something sweet and expensive. Your body reacts before your brain catches up, your cock twitching at the proximity despite every intention to stay composed.
She pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.
“It’s about dancing.”
You blink.
“Dancing?”
Her smile turns wicked. She leans in again, voice barely audible over the music drifting from the bar speakers.
“How did you like dancing with Joy unnie?”
The name hits like cold water. Your stomach tightens. Joy. The practice room. Her body pressed against yours during that choreography session, hips grinding back into you, her breath hitching every time you had to correct her form. The way she’d looked at you in the mirror…like she wanted to devour you right there.
How the hell does Yeri know about that?
Before you can form a question, a new voice cuts through the air.
“Yeri-yah!”
You turn.
Joy is standing at the edge of the table, hand lightly resting on the arm of the man beside her. She’s wearing a black dress as well, but hers is sleek black with spaghetti straps and the neckline plunging deep enough to show the perfect curve of her cleavage. Her hair is down, loose waves framing her face, and the silver earrings catch the light every time she moves.
Her eyes meet yours. For one split second, raw surprise flashes across her face. Then worry, quick, sharp, gone in an instant. And then something else: heat. A flicker of lust she tries to smother immediately, but it lingers in the way her lips part, the way her gaze drops to your mouth for half a heartbeat before she forces it back up.
She recovers fast, smiling brightly as she slides into the seat across from you, pulling her boyfriend down beside her. He’s handsome. Dark hair, easy smile, clearly comfortable in this kind of scene. He extends a hand across the table.
You glance at Yeri. She’s watching you with barely concealed amusement, one eyebrow arched like she’s daring you to contradict him.
You shake his hand.
“Yeah. Friend.”
Joy’s eyes meet yours again over the rim of the table. She bites the inside of her cheek, just for a second, trying to keep her expression neutral. But you see it: the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curl around her clutch, the subtle shift of her thighs under the table like she’s pressing them together. Yeri leans back, sipping whatever clear drink she already had waiting, looking entirely too pleased with herself. The server returns with your whiskey.
Joy’s boyfriend leans forward, elbows on the table, clearly trying to play the role of the chill plus-one who’s happy to be included.
“So, man, how long have you known Yeri?”
He asks, gesturing vaguely toward her with his beer bottle the waiter just brought him.
“She’s been hyping up this ‘friend from the drama’ all week.”
You force a laugh that sounds more natural than it feels.
“We’ve been working together for a few weeks now. Let’s just say it’s not boring”
Minho chuckles, clearly oblivious that you had Yeri bent over your car.
“Yeah, that tracks. Joy says the same thing about her. ‘Chaos in heels,’ I think was the exact quote.”
You nod, keeping your eyes on his face. Safe territory. Normal conversation. You ask him about his work and he launches into a story about a recent recording session. It’s easy to nod along, ask follow-up questions and keep the surface level polite and flowing.
But underneath the table, the air feels electric. You don’t dare look directly at Joy. Not at the way her black dress clings to her, the deep V-neck dipping low enough that every small breath makes the fabric shift and threaten to reveal more. Not at the way her collarbones catch the light, or the subtle rise and fall of her chest when she laughs at something her boyfriend says. You keep your gaze firmly on him, on your whiskey glass, on the city lights beyond the railing…anywhere but her.
Your peripheral vision, though, keeps snagging on Yeri. She’s sitting right beside you, close enough that her bare knee brushes yours every time she shifts. Her phone is now unlocked on her lap, screen angled just enough that you catch the flash of incoming messages when she tilts it slightly toward herself.
The first one pops up as a notification banner before she swipes it away.
“What the fuck yeri”
You see it for half a second before Yeri’s thumb covers the preview. She doesn’t react outwardly. Her face stays perfectly neutral. Her lips are curved in that same faint, amused smile, but her fingers start moving quickly under the table. You pretend not to notice. You laugh at something Joy’s boyfriend says about studio monitors, ask a follow-up about mic placement, keep the conversation alive like your life depends on it. But your eyes keep darting toward Yeri’s lap.
Another message lights up the screen.
“seriously?? you said the whole cast”
“why is he here”
Yeri types back without looking down. You can’t read the reply, but you see the three bouncing dots appear almost immediately on Joy’s side of the chat.
Joy’s still smiling at her boyfriend’s story, nodding at the right moments, but her grip on her own phone is white-knuckled. Every few seconds her eyes flick toward Yeri - sharp, questioning and angry - then back to her boyfriend. Yeri’s reply comes through. You catch only the first few words before she angles the screen away.
“calm down. it’s not what you think”
Joy’s jaw tightens. She types furiously for a moment, then sets the phone face-down on her thigh. Her free hand reaches for her drink and she takes a long sip. You force yourself to ask Minho another question, something about the difference between analog and digital mixing, while your mind races.
Did Joy tell Yeri everything? Did she confess the practice room tension in a drunk text or something? Or did Yeri see something herself? Maybe caught a glimpse through the practice room window, or heard rumors from staff?
You don’t know. And you can’t ask. Not here. Not now at least.
Yeri finally sets her phone down, screen dark, and leans back with a small stretch that makes the sequins on her dress catch the light like tiny stars. She turns to you, voice light and innocent.
“You okay? You look a little tense.”
You meet her eyes and give her the smallest shrug.
“Just taking in the view.”
She smiles wider, like she knows exactly which view you mean.
Across the table, Joy exhales through her nose. Suddenly her boyfriend’s phone buzzes sharply against the table. He glances at the screen, frowns slightly, then pushes back his chair.
“Sorry, guys…work call. Gotta take this somewhere quieter.”
He stands, leans down to press a quick kiss to Joy’s temple, and gives you and Yeri a friendly nod.
“Back in ten. Don’t drink all the good stuff without me.”
He weaves through the crowd toward the far end of the rooftop where the noise thins out near the glass railing. You watch him disappear behind a cluster of standing tables, then turn back to the booth.
The atmosphere shifts the second he’s gone, like someone flipped a switch and sucked the oxygen out of the air. Joy’s shoulders stiffen. Yeri’s smile doesn’t waver, but it sharpens at the edges. You lean back, arms crossed, trying to keep your expression neutral while your mind races. Why the hell did Yeri bring you here? Why invite Joy and her boyfriend if the goal was… whatever this is?
Joy clearly has the same questions burning behind her eyes. She’s staring at Yeri like she’s trying to decide between strangling her or bolting.
The moment her boyfriend is out of earshot, Joy tries to kick Yeri under the table.
“What the fuck, Yeri?”
Yeri tilts her head, all wide-eyed innocence.
“What? I just wanted to hang out. Catch up. Have a drink. You know, normal friend things.”
Joy scoffs.
“Normal friends don’t peek into practice rooms when other people are using them.”
There it is. The confirmation lands like a brick. Yeri saw you two. Not rumors, not second-hand gossip…she was there. Watching through the glass, maybe lingering in the hallway.
You feel heat crawl up your neck. You open your mouth, your voice rougher than you intend.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Yeri finally looks at you, almost like she’s savoring the question. Before she can answer, Joy cuts in, sharp and urgent.
“Don’t say a word to him.”
She jerks her chin toward the direction her boyfriend disappeared.
“Not one word. Please.”
Her eyes are wide now, anger and fear warring across her face. She’s furious at Yeri, but underneath it there’s real panic. The kind that comes from knowing one careless action could end a relationship.
She turns back to Yeri, voice dropping even lower.
“It was nothing. I just… wanted to try some sexier choreo. He was there. That’s it. Nothing happened.”
Yeri’s smile turns mocking.
“Mhm. Sure. ‘Sexier choreo.’”
She draws the words out, letting them drip with sarcasm.
“You always press your ass back that hard when you’re just practicing? Looked pretty personal from where I was standing.”
Joy’s cheeks flush dark red.
“You’re unbelievable.”
Yeri laughs and leans back, crossing her legs so the hem of her dress rides higher.
“You’re cute when you’re mad, unnie.”
As she speaks, you feel it. Her hand sliding from her own thigh to yours. Your breath catches. She doesn’t look at you. Her eyes stay locked on Joy’s, holding the stare like a challenge. But her fingers move with purpose: first resting lightly on the top of your thigh, then drifting inward, tracing the seam of your pants. You freeze. She reaches the button of your fly. Pops it open with a quiet snick.
Joy’s eyes widen - she hears it. The small metallic sound cuts through the rooftop noise like a gunshot. Her gaze drops to Yeri’s wrist, then flicks back up, horrified.
“Yeri, what the fuck-”
Yeri’s fingers find the zipper tab. She pulls it down slowly - agonizingly slowly - letting the teeth part one by one. The quiet rasp is loud enough in the sudden silence between the three of you.
Joy’s voice cracks.
“Stop it. What’s wrong with you? Why would you do this here?”
Yeri finally breaks the stare with Joy to glance at you, brief and amused, before returning to her target.
“It’s fun.”
She says simply, like she’s explaining why she likes a particular song.
“I love watching you squirm.”
Her hand slips inside your open fly, fingers brushing over the fabric of your boxers. Not stroking yet, just resting there, warm and confident, letting you feel the weight of her palm against your growing hardness. You’re rock hard already. You hate that you are. But the combination - the public setting, the risk, Joy watching in stunned silence, Yeri’s complete lack of shame - it’s doing things to you that you can’t control.
You shift slightly, torn. Part of you wants to let her keep going. Wants to see how far she’ll push this. Jerk you off under the table, maybe more. The thought of cuming in her hand while Joy watches, helpless and furious, is filthy enough to make your cock twitch against her fingers. But another part of you feels the awkwardness like a weight in your chest. This is public. Joy’s boyfriend could walk back any second. And Joy…Joy looks like she’s two seconds from either crying or throwing her drink in Yeri’s face.
You realize, with sudden clarity, that this isn’t really about you. Not at the core. Yeri isn’t doing this because she desperately wants to touch you. She’s doing it because it hurts Joy. Every slow tug of your zipper, every inch her hand creeps closer, is a knife she’s twisting just to watch Joy bleed. You’re not the goal. You’re the weapon.
Yeri’s fingers curl lightly around your cock through the fabric, giving one lazy stroke, enough to make your hips jerk involuntarily. Joy’s voice is barely a whisper now, shaking with anger and something close to desperation.
“Stop. Please. Just… stop.”
Yeri hums, thoughtful, like she’s actually considering it.
Then she leans forward, voice sweet as poison.
“Make me.”
Joy opens her mouth.
“What the fuck is wrong with you-”
The sound of approaching footsteps cuts her off mid-breath.
Her boyfriend rounds the corner of the standing tables, phone still in hand, sliding it back into his pocket with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry about that. My manager. He needed to confirm the schedule for next week.”
He drops back into his seat across from you, completely relaxed, completely unaware.
“Did I miss anything good?”
The table goes still for half a second.
Yeri’s hand doesn’t stop. If anything, she adjusts. Less obvious arm movement now, elbow resting casually on the table like she’s just resting her chin on her hand. Only her wrist and fingers keep working. Slow twists around your cock, thumb circling the head every few strokes. The motion is hidden perfectly beneath the table, but you feel every twist like a live wire.
You swallow hard, forcing your face to stay neutral while your cock throbs violently in her grip.
“Nah.”
Yeri answers smoothly, voice sweet as honey.
“Just catching up.”
Joy’s eyes are wide, locked on the spot under the table where she knows Yeri’s hand is moving. She looks like she’s one second away from lunging across the table, but she forces a tight smile instead.
“Yeah.”
Her voice is a little too high.
“Just… normal stuff.”
He nods, oblivious, and waves the server over to order another round of drinks. Conversation picks back up like nothing is happening. Joy’s boyfriend picks up where he left off, talking about work again. You nod along, laugh at the right moments, ask a follow-up question about vintage tape machines, anything to keep your voice steady while Yeri’s hand keeps twisting, never speeding up enough to push you over the edge but never slowing enough to let the pressure fade.
Your gaze has nowhere safe to land either. Looking at him feels wrong, almost disrespectful, while his girlfriend’s friend is jerking you off under the table. So, you glance away: at the city skyline, at the string lights overhead, at the half-empty glasses. But your eyes keep drifting back. To Yeri’s side profile, her jawline, the faint smirk playing on her lips, the way her long lashes lower every time she gives your cock an especially slow, twisting stroke. To Joy’s face, flushed and angry, eyes darting between Yeri and the table like she’s trying to see through it. And, inevitably, to Joy’s tits. The black dress she’s wearing is doing nothing to hide them. Every time she breathes a little harder, the deep cleavage shifts, the soft swell rising and falling, the faint shimmer of light catching on her skin. You catch her glancing down at the table again - staring at the exact spot where Yeri’s arm disappears beneath the cloth - and there’s something new in her eyes now. Not just anger. Curiosity. A hungry, conflicted wonder.
“How big is it right now? What does it look like while she strokes it?”
She bites her lip, then forces her eyes back up to her boyfriend, nodding at whatever he’s saying about reverb plugins.
But Yeri never stops.
She keeps the pace maddeningly perfect. Firm twists, thumb gliding over the sensitive head, fingers squeezing just enough on the downstroke to make your thighs tense under the table. Every few minutes she changes it up. A slow, full-length stroke followed by quick little pulses around the head, then back to the twisting motion that makes your vision blur at the edges. It feels incredible, but she’s deliberately keeping you right on that knife’s edge, never letting the pressure build to the point of no return, never letting you get close enough to cum.
You order another round when the server comes by and sip your new whiskey slowly. The conversation flows around you - him talking about upcoming gigs, Joy chiming in with forced enthusiasm about her latest choreo, Yeri laughing and adding teasing little comments - all of it perfectly normal on the surface.
Underneath, it’s anything but. Joy catches your eye once, right as Yeri gives your cock a particularly slow, twisting pull. Her gaze flicks down again, lingering this time, like she’s imagining the exact shape of your cock in Yeri’s hand, how hard you must be, how wet the head is getting with precum. When she looks back up, there’s heat in her eyes she can’t quite hide, mixed with pure frustration at Yeri. Yeri notices. She leans in just enough to whisper against your ear while pretending to reach for her drink.
“Keep looking at her tits like that and I might let you cum just to watch her lose it.”
You choke on your whiskey. Joy’s boyfriend laughs.
“Easy there, man…slow down on the drinks.”
Yeri smiles sweetly and gives you another slow, twisting stroke under the table.
The night stretches on like that - drinks arriving, conversation flowing, laughter ringing out at all the right moments - while Yeri’s hand stays busy beneath the table, never stopping, never letting you tip over the edge.
You’re trapped in the most exquisite kind of torture, surrounded by three people who are all pretending everything is perfectly fine… except two of them know exactly what’s happening, and one of them is using your cock like a weapon in a silent war you’re caught in the middle of.
And the worst part? You’re not sure you want her to stop.
Yeri’s hand gradually slows on your cock, the twisting strokes turning into lazy, drawn-out pulls. Each movement becomes lighter and gentler, until she finally comes to a complete stop. Her fingers are still loosely wrapped around your throbbing length beneath the table though. You have to fight every instinct not to thrust up into her fist. Your hips twitch once, involuntarily, before you clamp down hard and stay still, jaw tight, breath shallow through your nose. She gives you one final, teasing squeeze, then carefully tucks your cock back into your boxers. Her fingers are steady as she buttons your pants and zips you up, making sure everything looks perfectly normal from the outside. You feel both bitterly disappointed and strangely relieved at the same time.
Yeri checks the time on her phone, then looks across the table with a bright, innocent smile.
“Oh, it’s getting late. We still have plans tonight, right?”
When she says “plans,” she looks straight at Joy and gives her a slow, teasing wink.
Joy’s face tightens instantly. She understands exactly what Yeri is hinting at. Her boyfriend, however, just nods politely.
“Plans? Nice. Don’t let us keep you then.”
You play along, standing up with Yeri.
“Yeah, we should head out. It was good seeing you guys.”
Joy forces a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Have fun with your… plans.”
You and Yeri say your goodbyes, then walk away from the table. The moment you’re out of sight, heading toward the exit of the rooftop bar and back into the building, Yeri grabs your hand, fingers lacing tightly with yours.
“You’re coming with me.”
You let her pull you along, heart already pounding.
“What the hell were you thinking back there?”
You mutter under your breath.
“That was insane.”
Yeri only laughs softly, squeezing your hand.
“I know you liked it.”
She leads you through the dimly lit hallway inside the building, straight toward the women’s bathroom. Your stomach flips the second you realize where she’s taking you. You know exactly what she has planned next. Yeri pushes the door open without hesitation and walks inside, still holding your hand. She checks quickly that the bathroom is empty, then pulls you toward the last stall at the end. The two of you slip inside, and she locks the door with a quiet click.
You stare at her, pulse racing.
“You’re crazy.”
Yeri turns to face you, eyes dark with heat. She steps closer, pressing her body against yours in the tight space.
“I’m crazy for your cock.”
She whispers, voice dripping with need.
“And after you let me down last time by not shooting your load all over my face… you owe me. Now you get to make it up to me.”
Before you can answer, she rises onto her tiptoes and wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you into a hungry kiss. Her lips are soft but demanding, her tongue sliding against yours immediately. At the same time, her hands are already working on your pants again, unbuttoning, unzipping, pushing them down just enough to free your still-hard cock. You groan into her mouth and reach around her, cupping her ass with both hands, squeezing the firm cheeks through the thin fabric of her dress and pulling her even closer. The kiss turns messier. Yeri’s fingers wrap around your bare cock, stroking slowly as she moans softly against your lips. Her mouth is hot and insistent against yours, her tongue sliding deep as she kisses you like she’s been starving for it all night. Her body presses flush to yours in the cramped stall, the sequins on her dress catching faintly against your shirt. You slide one hand down her side, fingers tracing the curve of her waist, then slip beneath the hem of her dress. The fabric rides up easily. Your palm meets smooth, warm skin, then the delicate edge of her panties. She moans softly into your mouth when your fingers push the thin material aside. She’s already soaked, heat radiating against your fingertips. You stroke her slowly at first, two fingers gliding up and down her slit, spreading her wetness before you sink them inside her. Yeri gasps, hips jerking forward, her walls clenching tight around your digits. At the same time, her hand strokes your length with the same lazy rhythm you’re using on her. The two of you move together - kissing, fingering, stroking - like you’re feeding off each other’s need.
But Yeri’s getting wetter by the second. You can hear the soft, wet sounds of your fingers pumping into her pussy. You can feel her arousal coating your hand as she rocks against you. Her body presses harder into yours, tits pushing against your chest, breath coming in short, needy pants between kisses.
“You’re making me so wet.”
She whispers against your lips.
“Fuck… I can hear it.”
“Your pussy feels so good when you’re this wet.”
You murmur back, curling your fingers deeper, brushing that spot inside her that makes her thighs shake.
“So fucking tight and slippery.”
Yeri laughs, almost in disbelief that she’s actually doing this, the sound turning into a moan when you thrust your fingers faster.
“I can’t be the only one that’s wet.”
She teases, giving your cock a firm, twisting stroke that makes your hips buck. A suggestive eyebrow makes you pull your hand out of her cunt. She sinks down into a squat in front of you, dress riding all the way up her thighs, heels planted on the tiled floor. Her face is now perfectly level with your cock, which is still hard from her earlier teasing under the table. She looks up at you once, eyes dark with hunger, that same teasing smirk from the rooftop bar curling on her lips. Without another word she leans in and takes your dick into her mouth.
The heat is overwhelming. Her lips stretch around your thickness as she sucks you down, tongue swirling along the underside. She bobs slowly at first, taking more with each pass, hollowing her cheeks. You groan, one hand resting on the back of her head, the other braced against the stall wall. After a few deep sucks she tries for more, pushing forward until her nose brushes your stomach, trying to take all of it. Her throat tightens around you and she gags softly, eyes watering, but she doesn’t pull back right away. Lipstick smears along your shaft in dark streaks. She gags again, the sound wet and filthy, then pulls off with a gasp, strings of spit connecting her upper and lower lip with each other. When she looks up, that teasing smirk is back. Exactly the same one she wore while jerking you off right in front of Joy.
“Get my phone.”
You reach for her purse on the small windowsill above the toilet. She tells you the passcode. You unlock it and open the camera app.
“Take a few pictures for Joy.”
You hesitate, thumb hovering over the shutter button. The idea feels insane - filming this in a public bathroom stall - but you’ve done something similar with Winter before, taking pictures, even a video of you fake cuming on her face. The memory pushes you forward. You comply. Yeri immediately switches into full model mode. She straightens her posture even while squatting, tilts her head, parts her lips just so. It feels surreal: this gorgeous idol squatting in a bathroom stall, your cock in her hand, turning the moment into a private photoshoot.
She leans in and takes you back into her mouth, sucking slow and deep while you snap pictures. Every few seconds she pulls off just enough to pose, winking at the camera, pressing your cock against her cheek so the length is visible next to her face, or holding you with one hand while laying her tongue flat along the underside, pretending to lick you from base to tip but staying perfectly still so you can capture the shot. You keep clicking, the flash off, the sounds of the shutter mixing with her wet sucks and soft gags. She looks incredible - lipstick ruined, eyes watery, hair slightly messy - but she still manages to look like she’s on a runway.
You stop taking pictures when you feel her shift. Her focus turns needier now. She stops posing and starts sucking for real, deeper and faster, moaning around your cock like she’s forgotten the phone entirely. Except for one brief moment. She pulls off with a wet gasp and looks up at you.
“Send the best ones to Joy.”
You hesitate again, phone still in hand. Yeri rolls her eyes, that teasing smirk returning.
“Coward.”
She murmurs, but there’s no real bite in it. She strokes you slowly while she talks.
“I’m helping you out here. Showing her exactly how good your cock tastes… so when the time comes, she’ll be dying to take it herself.”
The words hit you hard. You finally nod, thumbs moving across the screen. You pick the clearest, most explicit shots - the ones where her tongue is pressed to your shaft, where her lips are stretched wide, where her eyes are locked on the camera while she sucks - and send them to Joy.
“Done.”
Yeri’s smirk widens. She rises back to her feet.
“Good. Now that that’s done…”
She presses her body against yours again, lips brushing your ear.
“You should take care of my pussy with that cock.”
You set the phone on the windowsill beside her purse. The kiss that follows is messy and hungry. The hem of her dress has ridden all the way up from squatting, so her clothed pussy is now rubbing directly against your bare cock. You grab her ass with both hands, squeezing the soft, firm cheeks, pulling her tighter against you.
Almost naturally, you lift her. Your hands slide under her thighs. Yeri wraps one arm around your neck for balance. Her other hand reaches down, pulling her panties to the side. You feel the wet heat of her pussy hovering right above your cock.
You sink her down slowly. The head of your cock parts her folds and slides inside her. Yeri moans into your mouth, legs tightening around your waist as you fill her completely.
You start fucking her right there, standing, holding her up, hips thrusting up while you bounce her on your cock.
The stall fills with the wet sounds of skin on skin and her breathless moans against your lips. Yeri clings to you tighter, whispering filthy little encouragements between kisses.
“Fuck me harder… just like that… use me…”
You do exactly that, gripping her ass and driving up into her again and again, the risk of the public bathroom only making everything feel more intense.
Yeri’s tight pussy stretches around your cock as you lift her higher, her walls clinging desperately to every inch until only the head remains inside her. She’s impossibly wet, her arousal coating your shaft and dripping down your balls. For a heartbeat she hovers there, gasping, eyes half-lidded and lips parted. Then you let gravity do the rest. You drop her. Yeri slams down hard onto your cock, taking every thick inch in one brutal, wet plunge. Her walls flutter violently around you as she’s impaled, a sharp, broken cry tearing from her throat.
“Fuuuck-!”
You don’t give her time to recover. You lift her again - slowly this time, feeling her pussy lips drag along your length, gripping greedily at the head - then let her fall once more. Gravity drives her down, stuffing her full in a single devastating stroke. The wet slap of her ass meeting your hips echoes loudly in the small stall.
Again.
And again.
You keep the brutal rhythm going, lifting her until she’s barely gripping your tip, then releasing her so she drops hard, her tight cunt swallowing all of you. Each fall makes her tits bounce inside the sequined dress, her head rolling back as she takes you deeper than she thought possible. Yeri becomes louder with every thrust.
“Ah-! Fuck-too deep-!”
Her voice cracks, turning into shameless, high-pitched moans that bounce off the tiled walls.
“You’re-splitting me-oh my god-!”
Her head lolls back completely now, neck arched, mouth open in a constant stream of broken cries. Every time you let her fall, her eyes flutter and roll back, lashes fluttering as her pussy spasms wildly around your cock. She’s so wet that obscene, squelching sounds fill the stall with every drop. Her juices run down your thighs and drip onto the floor. You grip her ass tighter, fingers digging into the soft flesh, using it as leverage to bounce her even harder. Her legs wrap around your waist, heels digging into your lower back as she tries to hold on.
“Yes-yes-keep doing that-fuck me like that-!”
She sobs, voice hoarse and desperate.
“I’m so full-your cock is so deep-ahh-!”
You can feel her walls rippling and clenching rhythmically every time you bottom out. Her pussy is gushing now, soaking your cock and balls with every hard drop. Yeri’s entire body trembles in your arms. Her tits bounce in your rhythm. She tries to kiss you again but can barely manage it, her lips brush yours messily between moans, tongue flicking out weakly before her head falls back once more, lost in the overwhelming sensation of being repeatedly impaled on your cock.
“Harder please make me take it all-!”
She whines, voice breaking on every word.
“I’m yours-fuck-use my pussy-!”
You obey, lifting her higher this time, almost pulling out completely, before letting her crash down again. The force makes her cry out loud enough that you’re sure someone outside the bathroom must have heard. Yeri’s eyes are glassy, unfocused, completely lost to the pleasure as you keep bouncing her on your cock, gravity doing half the work, your strong arms and hips doing the rest. Her tight little pussy spasms harder and harder around you with every deep, punishing thrust, her moans turning into constant, shameless wails.
She’s getting closer. You can feel it. In the way her walls flutter and squeeze. In the way her thighs tremble violently around your waist. In the broken, desperate sounds spilling from her lips.
You keep fucking Yeri exactly like that, holding her up in your arms, her legs wrapped tight around your waist, her tight pussy taking every brutal drop. Each time you lift her high enough that only the head of your cock remains inside her, her walls flutter and cling desperately, trying to pull you back in. Then you let her fall. Gravity does the rest, slamming her down hard onto your length until her ass meets your hips with a loud, wet slap. Her pussy stretches wide around you, swallowing everything you make it take. Yeri’s nails dig viciously into your back through your shirt, sharp little crescents of pain that only make you fuck her harder. You answer by digging your fingers deeper into the soft, plump flesh of her ass, spreading her cheeks apart as you bounce her on your cock.
“Fuck-yes-!”
She cries out, head thrown back with her hair moving wildly. Her voice is raw and shameless, echoing off the tiles.
“You’re so deep-ahh-filling me up-!”
Her tits still bounce inside the sequined dress with every drop. Her pussy is soaked, gushing around your cock, the wet squelching sounds growing louder and filthier with each thrust. Every time you impale her, her walls spasm and squeeze, milking you like she never wants to let go. You don’t slow down. You lift her again - higher this time - until she’s whimpering at the empty feeling, then drop her hard. The force makes her cry out louder, her nails raking down your back as her body jolts in your arms.
Yeri’s phone, still sitting on the small windowsill, suddenly buzzes.
Once.
Twice.
Then it starts vibrating almost continuously, short, angry bursts that rattle against the metal sill. Joy is probably spamming her with furious messages, demanding to know what the hell is happening, cursing Yeri out, maybe even begging her to stop.
Neither of you care.
You don’t even glance at the phone. Yeri doesn’t either. Her eyes are rolled back, mouth open in a constant stream of broken moans as you keep dropping her onto your cock, using gravity to stuff her full over and over again.
“Harder-please-don’t stop-fuck me like a toy-!”
She sobs, voice cracking. Her legs tighten around you, heels digging into your lower back.
“Your cock feels so good-stretching my pussy-ahh-!”
You growl against her neck, fingers bruising her ass as you lift and drop her again, faster now. The burn in your arms is starting to creep in. Your muscles are straining from holding her weight and fucking her so relentlessly. But you push through it, driven by the wet heat of her cunt and the desperate sounds spilling from her lips.
Yeri’s head rolls back again, eyes fluttering, completely lost. Her pussy clenches rhythmically around you, getting tighter and wetter with every thrust. She’s close…but you don’t slow down.
The phone keeps buzzing on the windowsill. Joy’s angry messages are ignored.
All that matters right now is the tight, soaking grip of Yeri’s pussy, the sting of her nails in your back, and the lewd sound of her ass slapping against your hips as you keep impaling her again and again.
But your arms are definitely burning now. You can’t stop though. Not when she feels this fucking good.
You spin around inside the narrow stall, turning so Yeri’s back presses against the cold tiled wall. The sudden shift makes her gasp, but you don’t stop moving. You keep her impaled on your cock, legs still wrapped around your waist, and start fucking her harder against the wall.
Your arms are burning, a deep, aching fatigue spreading through your shoulders and biceps from holding her weight for so long. But Yeri is right on the edge, chasing her climax with desperate little rolls of her hips, and you refuse to change positions. You nail her against the wall with deep, forceful thrusts. Each one drives your cock all the way inside her tight, soaking pussy, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing loudly in the small space. Yeri’s back arches, her head thumping softly against the tiles as she moans brokenly.
“Fuck-yes-right there-don’t stop-!”
Her pussy is getting tighter by the second, walls pulsating and clenching around your cock like she’s trying to pull you even deeper. You can feel her getting close. The rhythmic spasms. The way her thighs tremble violently around your hips. The way her breath comes in short, desperate sobs.
You grab her arms and push them up, pinning her wrists together above her head against the wall with one hand. The new angle forces her back to arch even more, pushing her tits forward. You hold her entire body up now using just your cock buried inside her pussy and the grip on her wrists. Your other hand slides down between your bodies, fingers finding her sensitive clit. You rub her in fast, firm circles while you keep giving her deep strokes that nail her into the wall again and again.
Yeri starts to lose it completely. Her eyes roll back. Her mouth falls open in a silent scream before she finds her voice again.
“Nail me-fuck-nail me into the wall like a painting-please-harder-!”
Her voice cracks every time your cock bottoms out, as if you’re pushing the air out of her lungs.
“Use me-destroy my pussy-ahh-!”
You lean in closer, your lips brushing her ear as you pin her wrists tighter and rub her clit faster.
“Be a good girl for once. Cum on my cock.”
That’s all it takes.
Yeri’s entire body seizes up. Her pussy clamps down around you like a vice, pulsing violently as her orgasm crashes through her. A loud, broken cry tears from her throat - raw and shameless - echoing off the bathroom walls.
“Fuuuuck-! I’m cuming-cuming on your cock!”
Her walls flutter and squeeze in powerful waves, gushing around you as she shakes in your arms. Her head falls back against the wall, eyes screwed shut, mouth open in a constant moan while her climax rips through her. Her legs lock around your waist, heels digging hard into your lower back as she rides it out, pussy milking your cock with every spasm.
You keep thrusting through it, but slower now, deep and steady, letting her feel every part of your cock while she falls apart around you. Her wrists are still pinned above her head and her body is trembling violently against the wall as the orgasm drags on and on.
“So good… your cock feels so fucking good…”
She’s still twitching and clenching around your shaft, aftershocks rolling through her body, when her eyes finally flutter open again. They’re glassy, unfocused, and completely satisfied.
But the look she gives you is still hungry. You can feel her pussy still gently pulsing around your cock as she catches her breath, chest heaving against yours.
She licks her lips, then grins up at you.
“…Your turn.”
You slowly lower Yeri back down, your arms trembling from the strain of holding her up for so long. Her legs are shaky and weak, barely able to support her weight as her feet touch the tiled floor. The moment your cock slips out of her soaked pussy, she lets out a soft, disappointed whine.
“No… put it back…”
Her knees buckle slightly, one hand slapping against the wall for balance. She’s so thoroughly fucked-out that she can’t even protest properly. She just stands there on trembling legs, breathing hard, pussy still visibly clenching around nothing.
You don’t give her time to recover. Your own need is burning too hot now. You turn her around roughly, spinning her so she faces the stall wall. Yeri gasps but doesn’t resist. If anything, she pushes her ass back toward you instinctively. You step in close, trapping her between your body and the cold tiles. Your chest presses against her back, your cock - still rock hard and slick with her juices - resting heavily between her ass cheeks. Yeri’s breathing quickens immediately. You can hear it: short, shallow gasps against the wall.
You reach down with one hand, gripping the base of your cock, and align the head with her dripping pussy. The moment she feels the thick tip nudge against her entrance, her breath hitches sharply. You push in slowly. Inch by inch, you sink back into her tight, velvety heat. Yeri’s forehead presses against the tiles as she moans low and long, her walls stuttering wildly around every thick inch you feed her. She’s still so sensitive from her orgasm that the stretch makes her thighs shake. You don’t stop until your hips are flush against her ass, your cock buried to the hilt inside her once again. Yeri is completely filled, her pussy stretched tight around you, clenching like she never wants you to leave.
A broken, satisfied whimper escapes her lips.
“Fuck… so full again…You’re so deep…”
You stay there for a moment, letting her feel the entire moment of being filled to the brim, your chest pressed to her back, one hand braced on the wall beside her head. Your other hand grips her hip, holding her in place as you grind slowly against her ass, stirring your cock deep inside her. Yeri’s breathing is ragged now, hot little puffs against the cold tiles. Her legs are still shaking, but she pushes back against you anyway, greedy for more. You can feel her pussy pulsing around you, still sensitive and still dripping.
You start fucking Yeri hard from behind, driving your cock into her with deep, powerful thrusts that slam her body against the stall wall. Each snap of your hips forces a wet slap of skin on skin, her soaked pussy taking every inch as you pound into her. Yeri has to turn her head to the side so her forehead doesn’t bang against the tiles with every brutal thrust. Now her left cheek is pressed flush against the cold wall, rubbing back and forth against the smooth surface every time you drive into her. Her mouth stays open, broken moans spilling out continuously as she struggles to stay upright on her shaky legs.
“Ah-! Fuck-! So hard-! You’re-ngh-fucking me so deep-!”
She’s barely able to form full sentences anymore, but she tries anyway, desperate to push you closer to the edge.
“You feel that?”
She pants between moans, cheek sliding against the tiles.
“My pussy is still so tight for you… even after I came all over your cock…”
She tries to sound bratty, but it comes out wrecked and needy.
“I bet Joy would love this too… getting railed against a wall like a little slut… bet she’d moan even louder than me if you fucked her like-ahh-!”
You’ve had enough.
“Shut up.”
Your free hand moves up, pressing firmly against the back of her head. You push her face harder into the wall, squishing her left cheek against the cold tiles. Her words instantly turn into muffled, unintelligible strings of sound.
“mmph-! Fmmph-! mmm!”
Her lips and cheek are pressed flat. Yeri’s eyes flutter, a fresh wave of arousal flooding her pussy at the rough treatment. She doesn’t fight it. If anything, she pushes her ass back against you even harder, silently begging for more. And you keep pounding into her without mercy, hips snapping forward, cock spearing deep into her tight cunt again and again. The new angle lets you hit even deeper, the head of your cock grinding against her sensitive spots with every thrust. Her muffled moans vibrate against the wall, her body jolting forward with each powerful stroke. Even with her face pinned, she keeps trying to talk back. Bratty little sounds that come out as wet, garbled nonsense.
You lean in closer as you rail her harder.
“That’s better. Just take it like a good girl.”
Yeri whimpers loudly into the wall, her pussy spasming around your cock. She’s soaking wet, juices running down her thighs. Even after her own orgasm, she’s clearly determined to help you reach yours, pushing back to meet every stroke, squeezing her inner walls around you on purpose, doing everything she can to make you lose control. Her cheek stays smashed against the tiles, eyes half-lidded and glassy with pleasure, completely at your mercy while you fuck her relentlessly from behind. You can feel your own climax building fast now, the tight heat of her pussy, the way she’s still trembling from her earlier orgasm, the filthy sounds she makes even when muffled, all of that pushes you closer.
Yeri is still trying to be a brat, even like this, making little defiant noises against the wall, as if daring you to fuck her even harder. You keep pounding into Yeri from behind, driving her body against the wall with every deep, hard thrust. Her cheek is smashed against the cold tiles, her mouth open, drooling slightly as broken moans spill out of her. Suddenly, her hand flies up and grabs your wrist, the one pinning her head to the wall. Her fingers wrap around it tightly.
“Mmmph-hurts…”
She manages to mumble against the tiles, the word barely intelligible. You freeze instantly, worry spiking through the haze of lust. You quickly release her head, pulling your hand back.
“Shit, are you okay?”
Yeri slowly turns her head over her shoulder to look at you. The moment her eyes meet yours, that familiar bratty, wicked smile spreads across her face with her lipstick smeared, her cheeks flushed, her hair a complete mess. She laughs breathlessly.
“Got you.”
You stare at her, realization hitting you. She was playing you, faking the pain just to make you let go so she could keep being a little brat.
“You little-”
Before you can finish, she cuts you off, voice dripping with smug satisfaction even while your cock is still buried deep inside her.
“I bet Joy would love your cock.”
She purrs, pushing her ass back against you.
“If you fucked her like this… she wouldn’t even care if her boyfriend was watching. She’d probably beg you to ruin her right in front of him.”
You narrow your eyes, heat and irritation mixing with raw arousal.
“You’re a depraved whore, you know that?”
Yeri laughs again, completely unashamed.
“Thank you.”
You reach over to the windowsill, grab her phone, and unlock it with the code she gave you earlier. Yeri’s eyes widen when she sees what you’re doing.
“What are you-?”
“You wanted pictures for Joy earlier. Let’s send her some real ones. Show her what a filthy slut her friend actually is.”
Yeri’s body tenses hard around your cock. A flash of surprise, worry, and undeniable arousal flickers across her face. Earlier, when she posed for the pictures, she had control - she looked hot, put-together, in charge. Now she’s a wreck: makeup ruined and smeared, hair sticking to her sweaty face, cheek still red from being pressed against the tiles, a thin trail of drool at the corner of her mouth.
You angle the phone and take the first picture - a close-up of her face, completely destroyed, pressed against the wall while your cock is buried inside her. The second her pussy registers the flash and the humiliation, it clenches violently around your dick. You slow your thrusts on purpose, focusing on the camera. Yeri whimpers and immediately starts pushing back against you, trying to fuck herself on your cock. You grab the back of her head again and press her cheek harder into the tiles, then snap another picture - her face smushed, eyes glassy, looking utterly ruined while you’re balls-deep inside her. Yeri lets out a needy, embarrassed whimper, only able to imagine how pathetic and slutty she must look right now. You lean back slightly and angle the phone downward, capturing a clear shot of your thick cock stretching her pussy open from behind, her ass cheeks spread around you, her juices visibly coating your shaft.
“Stop-fuck-stop taking pictures. Just cum in my pussy… please… fill me up…”
You take one more picture, then finally set the phone back on the windowsill. You grab her hips with both hands and resume the brutal pace from earlier, slamming into her hard and deep.
“Needy little bitch.”
Your voice is dark with lust.
“You act all bratty but the second I treat you like the slut you are, you start begging for my cum.”
Yeri moans loudly, pushing back to meet every thrust, her pussy fluttering and squeezing around you as you ruin her against the wall. You keep slamming into her from behind, fucking her hard against the stall wall. Her cheek stays pressed to the cold tiles, her body jolting with every deep thrust.
“I’m getting close.”
You growl into her ear.
The second the words leave your mouth, Yeri’s entire body reacts. Her pussy clenches violently around your cock, and a fresh wave of wetness floods around you.
“You better shoot your load into my pussy this time.”
Her voice trembles with need.
“Don’t you dare pull out-fill me up. I want every drop.”
You press her harder into the wall, your chest flush against her back as you fuck her even deeper. The wet, filthy sounds of your cock pounding into her soaked cunt echo loudly in the small stall. Yeri reaches back with one hand, blindly grabbing your free wrist. She drags your hand around to her front and presses it firmly against her clothed tits. You grope her roughly through the sequined dress, fingers digging into the soft, full flesh. Her tits feel incredible in your palm. You knead and squeeze them hard, rolling her nipples between your fingers while you continue to rail her from behind.
The combination is too much. The tight, wet grip of her pussy, the way her walls flutter and milk you, the soft weight of her tits in your hand.
Your hips stutter.
“Fuck-I’m cuming-”
You bury yourself as deep as you can and let go. Your orgasm hits hard. Thick, heavy ropes of cum erupt inside Yeri’s pussy, flooding her in wave after wave. You keep thrusting through it, grinding deep, making sure every drop pumps into her. Yeri trembles violently between your body and the wall, a broken, satisfied moan spilling from her lips as she feels you filling her up.
“So much… you’re filling me so much…”
She whimpers, her pussy spasming around your pulsing cock, milking every last spurt. You stay buried inside her for a long moment, breathing hard against the back of her neck as the last pulses of your orgasm fade. Only then do you slowly pull out. The moment your cock slips free, Yeri’s hand moves between her legs. She quickly pulls her soaked panties back into place, trapping your cum inside her. A soft, possessive little sound escapes her as she makes sure nothing leaks out. When she finally turns around to face you, her left cheek is bright red, the faint imprint of the tile pattern still visible on her skin. Her makeup is ruined. Mascara smudged, lipstick completely gone, hair a wild mess. She looks thoroughly fucked.
And yet, she smiles up at you. That same bratty, satisfied smile as always.
You tuck your cock back into your pants and zip up, still catching your breath. Yeri steps closer, tilting her head playfully.
“I’ll expect similar treatment at the next script reading.”
You walk down the quiet hallway of the SM building. You had just dropped Karina and Giselle off at their practice room a few minutes ago. The tension between the three of you makes the air feel thick in the apartment, but at least for now, you have a moment of peace.
Suddenly, you hear light, quick footsteps approaching from behind.
“Oppa!”
Before you can turn fully, Winter is already there. She throws her arms around your neck in a tight hug, pressing her body flush against yours. She rises onto her tiptoes immediately, tilting her head up to kiss you. It’s not a quick, innocent peck. It’s needy, lingering, her lips soft and warm as she kisses you like she’s been waiting all day for this. When she finally pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes are dark and hungry.
“Hi.”
She whispers, still holding onto you, not stepping away. You can feel the heat radiating off her, the way her hips press subtly against you. She’s obviously needy.
“Winter… hey.”
You manage, trying to sound neutral. She bites her lower lip, looking up at you with those big, pleading eyes.
“When are you finally going to have sex with me?”
Her voice is sweet, but her question is laced with clear frustration.
“I’ve been waiting… I thought after everything…”
You swallow hard.
“Soon. I promise. Just… not right now.”
Winter’s expression shifts. She doesn’t look satisfied at all. She leans in closer.
“You always say ‘soon’…”
She murmurs, almost pouting.
“I want you now. I’ve been thinking about it every day.”
As she talks, something feels off. Her tone is too eager, too urgent. It almost feels like she’s trying to seduce you as quickly as possible. Like she’s hoping to get you to fuck her before November is officially over. The realization makes your stomach twist. Karina already lost the bet… so why is Winter still pushing this hard? Are you being played?
You do your best to deflect gently, keeping your hands on her waist but creating a little space between your bodies.
“Winter, I can’t right now. I have things to do and-”
Footsteps echo from further down the hallway. Winter’s eyes widen slightly. She quickly pulls back, fixing her expression into something more innocent.
“See you later, oppa.”
She says sweetly, giving you one last quick kiss on the cheek before turning and hurrying toward the practice room.
You let out a long sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing as you watch her disappear around the corner. Thank God.
You start walking again, trying to shake off the encounter. But then you stop dead in your tracks. Further down the hallway, leaning casually against the doorframe of another practice room with her arms crossed, is Joy.
She’s wearing a bright red, tight-fitting dress that hugs her upper body especially well. The hem is short, showing off her long legs. Her short dark hair frames her face perfectly, red lipstick making her lips stand out. She has her eyes fixed on you, her gaze looking slightly dangerous.
There’s a beat of silence.
But Joy’s lips slowly curve into a small smile. She doesn’t move from her spot, just watches you with that intense gaze, like she’s been waiting for you to notice her.
The hallway suddenly feels much smaller. You stand there, heart picking up speed again, unsure what to say or do as Joy continues to stare at you with clear, unmistakable interest. You take a few steps forward, closing the distance between you and Joy. The hallway suddenly feels narrower, the air thicker.
She’s leaning against the doorframe, one leg slightly bent, looking effortlessly confident. But you can see it. The tiny crack in her composure. Her eyes meet yours, and there’s a flicker of something raw beneath the calm surface. Lust. She tries to hide it, but it’s there.
You haven’t seen her since that night at the rooftop bar with Yeri and her boyfriend. The memory of those pictures you sent - Yeri on her knees, ruined makeup, your cock in her mouth - hangs between you like smoke.
“Hey.”
You try to keep your voice casual.
Joy straightens a little.
“Hey.”
There’s a short, awkward pause.
She tilts her head.
“What are you doing here?”
“Just dropped Karina and Giselle off at practice.”
Joy nods, but her eyes don’t leave yours. Then, without any warning, she asks something that catches you completely off guard.
“Does Karina have a problem with you fucking other women?”
The question hits like a sudden drop. You blink, surprised by how direct she is, but you answer honestly.
“No… she doesn’t. Actually, it kind of started as her idea.”
You watch Joy’s reaction carefully. For a split second, jealousy flashes clearly in her eyes. She wants this. She wants you. Badly. But her relationship is still holding her back. You can see the internal war playing out behind her composed expression.
Yeri’s words echo in your head:
“I’m helping you out… so she’ll definitely take your cock soon.”
You decide not to waste the opportunity.
Trying to sound as innocent as possible, you ask.
“Do you… want to dance again? Like last time?”
Several emotions flicker across Joy’s face in rapid succession: surprise, raw lust, hunger, a flash of disgust at herself, guilt, and then clear interest.
She hesitates for a long moment. Then, quietly, almost like she’s convincing herself:
“…Yeah. Just… practicing some dancing.”
She turns around without another word and walks into the empty practice room. You follow her inside.
The door clicks shut behind you. The practice room is dimly lit, mirrors lining the walls. Joy stops in the middle of the room, her back to you for a second, before she turns to face you again. She looks nervous. Excited. Guilty. But mostly… hungry.
The silence stretches between you, thick with tension. She holds your gaze, then reaches into her small bag and pulls out her phone. A few taps later, the opening beats of your song "Addicted" start playing through the practice room’s speakers. The low, seductive bass fills the space.
Joy puts the phone down on the floor near the mirror and steps toward you. She moves exactly like the female dancer in your usual performance. She walks right up to you, close enough that you can smell her perfume. You instinctively place your hand on the small of her back, just like you do on stage. But Joy doesn’t put her arm around your neck. Instead, she places her palm flat on your chest. Her fingers slowly slide downward, tracing the lines of your abs through your shirt as she bends backward in a smooth, controlled arch. Her body rolls sensually, pressing her hips forward so her core grinds lightly against the front of your pants, right over your growing bulge. You feel the heat of her through the fabric. The teasing pressure makes your cock twitch. She holds the backbend for a moment longer than the usual choreography, eyes locked on yours the entire time, before she straightens up and steps away, continuing the dance.
You both fall into the choreography…more or less accurately at first. The familiar moves feel electric now that it’s just the two of you in this empty room. Your hands find her waist during the turns, her body rolls against you during the slower sections.
The song builds. As the second verse starts and your voice fills the studio:
"You know what you do when you look at me…"
Joy stops dancing. She stands straight in front of you, breathing slightly heavier. Without breaking eye contact, she reaches up and slowly unbuttons the top button of her red dress. Then the second. The fabric parts just enough to reveal more of her cleavage and the hem of her bra.
"Biting your lip, dropping to your knees…"
Joy does exactly that. She bites her lower lip, eyes never leaving yours, and gracefully sinks down to her knees right in front of you. The moment her knees hit the practice room floor, her hands move to your belt. She unbuckles it with steady fingers, then pulls down your zipper. The sound is loud in the quiet room, mixing with the beat of your own song.
She looks up at you, lips slightly parted, a mix of nervousness and raw hunger in her expression. Your cock strains against your boxers as she tugs your pants and underwear down just enough to free you. The cool air hits your skin for only a second before her warm breath ghosts over your length. Joy stays on her knees, one hand wrapping loosely around the base of your cock, staring up at you like she still can’t quite believe she’s doing this.
The song continues playing in the background, your voice echoing through the mirrors.
"Swallowing me whole, like you need the taste…"
Joy’s tongue darts out, wetting her lips. She leans forward slowly, parts her lips and takes the head into her warm mouth. She starts slowly, almost carefully, her tongue swirling around the tip, tasting you with soft, tentative licks. A quiet hum vibrates from her throat as she sinks a little deeper, sucking gently.
“It’s… just this once.”
She whispers, pulling back just enough to speak, her breath hot against your wet skin.
“This doesn’t mean anything… okay? Just… one time.”
She leans in again, taking more of your cock into her mouth, her lips stretching around your thickness. Her head bobs slowly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before opening again, still trying to convince herself.
“This is just… practice.”
She murmurs between slow sucks, voice a little shaky.
“We’re just dancing… that’s all…”
But her actions betray her words. Her tongue presses flat against the underside of your cock as she takes you deeper, sucking with more purpose. Her free hand rests on your thigh, fingers digging in slightly. You rest your hand gently on the back of her head. Joy moans softly around you, the vibration traveling straight through your length.
She pulls off for a second, catching her breath.
“It’s not cheating… right? Not if your cock is bigger than his…”
The confession slips out in a breathless whisper, and the moment she says it, her cheeks flush darker. She immediately dives back down, taking you deeper this time, sucking harder as if trying to drown out her own words. You let her set the pace for a little longer, but the need building inside you makes your grip on the back of her head firmer. Slowly, you start guiding her movements, fucking her mouth with slow, deep thrusts. Joy whimpers around your cock but doesn’t pull away. Her eyes water as you push a little deeper than she can comfortably take. She gags softly, spit dripping from the corners of her mouth and running down her chin, eventually falling into the deep cleavage of her red dress.
You pull back slightly, letting her breathe, but she only leans forward again, eager despite the mess. Another thrust, deeper this time, and more spit spills down her chin, dripping onto her tits and making the fabric of her dress glisten.
“It’s… just once…”
She mumbles again when you let her pull off for air, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. Her voice is hoarse, eyes glassy.
“Just… helping with the choreo… that’s all…”
But even as she says it, she opens her mouth again, taking you back in willingly. Her head moves in time with your slow thrusts. Her hands grip your thighs as you fuck her face with controlled, steady strokes. Every time you push a little too deep, she gags wetly, more drool spilling down her chin and onto her chest. The sight is filthy. Her red dress getting stained, her makeup starting to smudge, her eyes watering as she looks up at you. You can feel her throat tightening around you, her tongue still working desperately even as she struggles to take everything you give her. Joy’s muffled moans grow needier, her body shifting on her knees as if she’s getting turned on by her own surrender. She pulls off just long enough to gasp.
“Don’t stop… just… fuck my mouth…”
Then she’s back on you, letting you use her throat while she keeps mumbling weak excuses between gags and slurps.
“It’s not cheating… it’s not…”
But her actions say something completely different. The red dress has ridden up high on her thighs as she takes your cock back into her warm, wet mouth. The song "Addicted" continues playing through the practice room speakers, your own voice filling the space with its low, seductive rap verses and catchy chorus.
She knows this is wrong. She knows it with every slow bob of her head, every swirl of her tongue around your shaft. Her boyfriend is waiting somewhere, completely unaware. But right now, with your cock sliding between her lips and your hand resting on the back of her head, the guilt only seems to make her wetter.
“It’s just once…”
She tells herself again, trying to convince herself even as she sucks you deeper.
Just helping with the choreo… nothing more…
But your song is playing, and the lyrics hit her differently now.
"You know what you do when you look at me… Biting your lip, dropping to your knees…"
She feels every word like it was written for this exact moment.
Joy pulls back slightly, gasping for air once more. Her eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed.
“I shouldn’t be doing this…This is so wrong…”
Yet she immediately leans forward again, taking your cock back into her mouth with a needy hum. Her head moves with more confidence now, sucking you deeper, her tongue pressing firmly against the underside as she works your length.
She really is starting to like your cock. The thickness, the way it stretches her lips, the heavy weight on her tongue…it’s intoxicating. She can see exactly why Yeri let you fuck her like a cheap slut in that bathroom stall. The pictures Yeri sent had already shocked her. Yeri on her knees, lipstick ruined, eyes watery. But the ones with Yeri’s face pressed against the tiles, makeup smeared, drooling while you fucked her from behind… those had stunned Joy even more. Her boyfriend had never been rough with her. Never pinned her down like that. Never made her feel used and wanted at the same time.
Joy moans around your cock, the vibration traveling through you as she takes you deeper, gagging softly when the tip hits the back of her throat. More spit drips down her chin, landing on her cleavage and making the red fabric darker. She pulls off for a second, breathing hard.
“Your cock…It’s so much bigger than his… fuck…”
She looks up at you with hazy eyes, conflicted but clearly excited.
“I can’t believe Yeri sent me those pictures… especially the ones where you had her face against the wall.”
She licks her lips, then leans in and kisses the side of your shaft.
“She looked so wrecked… I kept staring at them. I shouldn’t have… but I did.”
Joy takes you back into her mouth, sucking with renewed hunger. Her head moves faster now, cheeks hollowing as she works you eagerly. She’s no longer pretending this is just “practicing.” She’s sucking you off because she wants to. Because she’s getting wetter thinking about what’s coming next.
She wants your cock inside her. She wants to feel what Yeri felt. The song reaches the bridge, your voice low and cocky through the speakers.
"Tell me you’re addicted too… Tell me you can’t sleep without me inside you…"
Joy whimpers around your length, her free hand slipping between her own thighs, rubbing herself through her soaked panties as she continues blowing you. She’s completely lost in it now. Excited, guilty, and aching for you to fuck her properly. Her eyes flick up to meet yours again, watery and desperate, silently begging you to take control and give her what she’s been fantasizing about since she saw those pictures.
She stays on her knees for a while longer, completely focused on your cock. She sucks you with slow, hungry devotion, taking you deep, then pulling back to swirl her tongue around the head, licking up every drop of spit and pre-cum that leaks from you. Her eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed, and every few seconds she lets out a soft, needy moan that vibrates around your length. She seems to be genuinely enjoying it now, lost in the taste and the weight of you on her tongue.
She pulls off for a moment, breathing heavily
“Fuck… your cock tastes so good.”
She whispers, almost to herself. Then she leans in again, sucking you deeper, her head bobbing with more rhythm as she starts to lose herself in it.
After a minute, Joy reaches into the deep cleavage of her red dress. Her fingers fish around for a second before she pulls out a small, silver condom packet she had tucked securely under the strap of her bra. You watch, surprised and turned on, as she rips the packet open with her teeth. She holds the condom between her fingers, looks up at you with dark, hazy eyes, and slowly rolls it down your hard, glistening cock. Her hands are steady, but her breathing is shaky.
Once it’s on, she doesn’t waste time. She leans forward and takes you back into her mouth, sucking you through the thin latex. The sensation is different, but still incredibly hot. Joy moans around you, clearly enjoying the act of sucking you while you’re wrapped up, her tongue pressing against the underside as she works you deeper. She keeps going like that for a while, eyes watering slightly whenever she takes you too deep, spit dripping down her chin onto her dress.
Eventually, she pulls, breathing hard.
“Floor. I want you between my legs.”
You don’t argue. Joy lies back on the cool practice room floor, the red dress riding up her thighs as she spreads her legs for you. You kneel between them, pushing the hem of her dress higher until her soaked red panties are fully exposed. You hook your fingers into the waistband and pull them to the side, revealing her glistening, puffy pussy. She’s dripping wet. You lean down and drag your tongue slowly up her slit, tasting her. Joy’s back arches instantly, a broken moan escaping her lips.
“Oh my god…”
You eat her out with focused hunger, long, slow licks followed by firm circles around her clit. At the same time, you slide two fingers inside her tight heat, curling them upward while your thumb rubs her clit in steady strokes. Joy’s hips buck against your face, her hands flying down to grip your hair.
“Fuck-yes-right there-”
She gasps, voice trembling.
“Your tongue feels so good… don’t stop-”
You keep going, licking and sucking her clit while your fingers pump into her, making wet, lewd sounds that mix with the fading music still playing in the background. Joy’s thighs start to shake around your head, her moans growing louder and more desperate. She’s soaking your chin and fingers, her pussy twitching. Joy looks down at you between her legs, eyes glassy with lust, breathing ragged.
“Oh fuck…”
You eat her out with slow, steady licks, long strokes from her entrance up to her clit, then firm circles around the sensitive bud. Every time her breathing starts to quicken and her thighs begin to tremble, you pull back and switch to kissing her inner thighs instead. Soft, open-mouthed kisses, gentle bites, your tongue tracing lazy patterns on her smooth skin.
The back-and-forth drives her insane. Every time she feels her orgasm building - hips lifting, breath hitching, fingers tightening in your hair - you switch again, focusing on her thighs and denying her the direct stimulation she craves.
Joy’s body shakes with frustration and need.
“Stop-ah-stop teasing me…”
She whines as her voice cracks.
“Please… just make me feel good… I can’t take it anymore…”
You kiss her inner thigh again, right next to her dripping pussy, making her whimper.
“You want my cock? Or do you want my tongue in your pussy?”
Joy tries to answer, but the moment she opens her mouth you lick a slow, wet stripe along her thigh, dangerously close to her folds but not quite there.
“I- I want- fuck-”
She stutters, hips twitching desperately.
You do it again, another teasing kiss on her thigh, then a gentle bite. Joy’s head falls back against the floor, a frustrated, needy sob escaping her.
“Your cock…I want your cock… please…”
You smile against her skin.
“Good girl.”
The praise makes Joy whimper loudly, her pussy visibly clenching around nothing. You move up between her legs, kneeling right there. Your condom-covered cock is rock hard and throbbing as you align the head with her soaked entrance. You rub it up and down her slit once, coating yourself in her wetness, teasing her clit with the tip. Joy’s breath catches, her nails scrape against the wooden floor. You push forward slowly, the thick head stretching her open as you sink into her tight, dripping pussy. Joy’s back arches off the floor, a long, broken moan tearing from her throat as you fill her inch by inch.
“Oh my god… you’re so big…”
You don’t stop until you’re buried to the hilt inside her, hips pressed flush against hers. Her walls flutter and squeeze around you, still sensitive from your earlier teasing. You stay there for a moment, letting her adjust, feeling her pulse around your cock. Joy looks up at you with glassy, desperate eyes, breathing hard.
“Please… fuck me…”
You start thrusting into Joy’s tight, wet pussy with slow, deep strokes, savoring the way her walls grip your cock. The moment you pick up a steady rhythm, Joy becomes surprisingly loud. She doesn’t talk much, no long sentences, but the sounds she makes fill the entire practice room. Soft, breathy whines spill from her lips with every thrust. High-pitched whimpers when you bottom out. Little broken moans that grow louder as you fuck her harder.
“Ah… ahh… mmph-”
Every time you drive into her, a needy sound escapes her. Her head tilts back against the floor, eyes half-closed, mouth open as she lets out continuous, shameless noises.
“Deeper…”
She gasps occasionally, voice trembling.
“Mmm- harder…”
That’s all she manages. The rest is just raw, instinctive sounds: whines, whimpers, and moans that echo off the mirrors around you.
You look down at her, hands gripping her naked thighs, spreading them wider as you ruin her pussy with steady, powerful thrusts. Her red dress is bunched uselessly around her waist, her body jolting beautifully every time your hips slap against hers.
Your eyes drift to her chest. Her tits bounce with every thrust, not dramatically yet, but enough to draw your full attention. You can’t stop staring, wondering how they’d feel in your hands, how heavy they’d be, how soft her nipples would feel between your fingers.
Joy notices. Even through her moans, she sees where your gaze is locked. Her lips part, and between two shaky whimpers she manages to ask.
“You want to see them…?”
You nod, breathing hard. Without hesitation, Joy reaches down, grabs the hem of her red dress, and pulls it up and over her head in one smooth motion. She tosses the dress aside, leaving her in just her red bra. She arches her back slightly, reaches behind herself, and unhooks the bra with ease. The straps slide down her shoulders, and she pulls it off completely.
Her tits spill free. They’re fuller and heavier than you expected, beautiful, soft, with pretty pink nipples already hard from arousal. The moment the bra is gone, they bounce more freely with every thrust you give her, jiggling hypnotically as you fuck her. Joy’s moans grow a little louder now that she’s fully exposed. Her hands move up to cup her own breasts for a second, squeezing them gently before letting them go again, letting them bounce naturally as you continue pounding into her.
You can’t take your eyes off them. The sight of her perfect tits bouncing while you ruin her tight pussy on the practice room floor is almost too much. Her loud, needy whimpers and moans keep filling the room, mixing with the wet sounds of your cock sliding in and out of her soaked cunt. Joy’s head falls back again, another long, trembling whine escaping her as you thrust deeper. You keep pounding into Joy’s tight, wet pussy with steady, deep strokes, your hands still gripping her naked thighs and your eyes are locked on her tits. They bounce beautifully with every thrust. You can’t help but compare them silently to Karina’s. Karina’s are perky and perfectly shaped, sitting high on her chest with cute, sensitive nipples that always get rock hard the moment you touch them. Joy’s are noticeably smaller, with a natural softness that makes them jiggle more freely. Her nipples are a pretty shade of pink, already stiff and begging for attention.
After a few more thrusts, you make up your mind. You want a taste. You lean down without slowing your rhythm, still fucking her deep and steady, and wrap your lips around one of her tits. You suck greedily, tongue swirling around her hard nipple before you gently bite down. Her back arches sharply off the floor, pushing her chest harder into your mouth. A loud, broken moan tears from her throat as her hands fly to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.
“Ah-! Yes- suck them-!”
She pulls you deeper into her tits, pressing your face between her soft, warm mounds. You switch from one nipple to the other, sucking harder, licking, gently biting while your hips keep snapping forward, cock plunging into her soaked pussy again and again.
The combination is overwhelming for her. Being fucked deep and having her tits worshipped at the same time makes Joy lose control. Her back stays arched off the ground, body trembling as loud, needy moans spill from her lips without restraint.
“Oh my god- fuck- it feels so good-!”
She tries not to think about her boyfriend. She really does. But the comparison creeps in anyway. Her boyfriend is gentle. Sweet. He touches her like she’s fragile. He never fucks her like this, never pins her down, never sucks on her tits while pounding her pussy, never makes her moan this loudly.
You’re different. Rougher. Hungrier. You’re taking what you want, and her body is responding in ways she didn’t know it could. The guilt flickers in the back of her mind, but it’s quickly drowned out by pleasure. Joy’s fingers tighten in your hair, pulling you even harder against her chest as she whimpers.
“Don’t stop-please-suck them harder-fuck me deeper-!”
Her pussy stutters around your cock, getting wetter with every thrust. Her tits jiggle against your face as you devour them, sucking and licking while you ruin her on the practice room floor. Joy’s head falls back, another loud, shameless moan echoing through the mirrors. She’s completely lost in it now, back arched, tits in your mouth, pussy stuffed full of your cock, moaning like she doesn’t care who might hear. You keep fucking Joy with deep, steady thrusts, your cock sliding in and out of her tight, soaking pussy while your mouth stays latched onto her tits. You suck harder on one nipple, tongue flicking over the stiff peak, then switch to the other, lavishing it with the same hungry attention. Your free hand moves from her thigh down between your bodies. Your fingers find her swollen clit and start rubbing it in firm, fast circles, matching the rhythm of your hips.
Joy’s reaction is instant and overwhelming. Her moans grow much louder, echoing through the empty practice room.
“Ah-! Fuck-! Too much-!”
She cries out, voice cracking. Her back arches sharply off the floor again, pushing her tits harder into your mouth. She can barely handle the triple stimulation. Your thick cock stretching and pounding her pussy, your mouth sucking greedily on her sensitive tits, and your fingers rubbing her clit without mercy. She doesn’t know what she wants more. She can’t decide. The cock filling her so deep, the wet heat of your mouth on her nipples, or the relentless pressure on her clit. All three sensations crash into her at once, leaving her a trembling, moaning mess.
“Oh my god-I can’t-it feels too good-!”
Her hips jerk uncontrollably against you.
You don’t let up. You keep thrusting into her, sucking her tits, and rubbing her clit all at the same time, determined to push her over the edge. Joy’s moans turn into desperate, broken cries. Her walls start spasming wildly around your cock, getting tighter and tighter. Suddenly, her entire body seizes up. She arches her back even further off the floor, hips bucking up violently as her orgasm crashes through her.
“Fuuuuck-! I’m cuming-cuming-!”
Her pussy clamps down hard around your cock, pulsing and spasming in powerful waves. She shatters around you, gushing wetly as her climax rips through her body. Her thighs shake uncontrollably, her tits bouncing wildly as she trembles beneath you.
You have to fight hard to hold it together. Her pussy is milking you so tightly, rippling and squeezing around your cock like it’s trying to pull your orgasm out of you. Combined with the sight and feel of her tits in your mouth and the way she’s moaning and falling apart…it’s almost too much. You grit your teeth and keep thrusting through her orgasm, fucking her deep and steady, riding out every wave of her climax until her body slowly starts to calm down. Joy’s back finally lowers back to the floor. Her chest heaves with heavy breaths, her face flushed and glistening with sweat. Her pussy continues to flutter weakly around your cock, aftershocks still rolling through her. She looks up at you with glassy, fucked-out eyes, lips parted, breathing ragged. You’re still buried deep inside her, rock hard and throbbing, having barely managed to hold back your own release.
Joy’s body slowly relaxes beneath you, her back finally lowering to the cool practice room floor. Her chest rises and falls with heavy sighs. The loud, shameless moans and whimpers from moments ago have quieted into soft, exhausted pants. Her pussy continues to flutter weakly around your cock, still buried deep inside her, aftershocks gently pulsing through her.
For a moment, she almost forgets the music is still playing. Then the beat shifts. The familiar opening of your "Ride It" starts filling the room. The moment Joy hears it, something changes in her eyes. A fresh spark of lust flickers across her flushed face. For the first time in a long time, she feels a strong, almost overwhelming urge to ride. It’s not that she usually dislikes being on top, but with her boyfriend, it never felt like this. He never made her want to take control, to bounce on his cock like a desperate slut. With you, though… with your thick cock still stretching her and your song playing in the background… she suddenly craves it. And the mirrors surrounding you two only make it hotter. She’ll be able to watch herself, watch every bounce, every roll of her hips, every expression on her face as she rides you.
Joy looks up at you, breathing still heavy.
“Lie down.”
You pull out of her and lie back on the floor. Joy immediately climbs on top of you, straddling your hips. She reaches down, wraps her hand around your condom-covered cock, and lines it up with her dripping entrance. She sinks down, taking every inch until her ass rests against your thighs. A deep, satisfied moan escapes her as she feels you fill her again. Then she starts riding. To the rhythm of your own song.
Joy rolls her hips slowly at first, grinding down on your cock, letting the beat guide her. Her hands rest on your chest for balance as she begins to bounce. Her tits jiggle with every movement, the red dress long discarded, leaving her completely naked on top of you. You place your hands on her waist, fingers digging into her soft skin as you let her take control. Your palms explore her body, sliding up her sides, cupping her bouncing tits, thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. You enjoy the view. Her tits look incredible as they bounce freely while she rides you. But in the back of your mind, you can’t help but miss Karina’s. Because of this stupid NNN bet, you haven’t been able to touch, squeeze, or suck on Karina’s tits properly since the beginning of the month. The memory of how they feel in your hands, flickers through your thoughts even as Joy rides you like a slut to your own song.
Joy’s moans start growing again, mixing with the lyrics of "Ride It" playing around you. She leans forward slightly, hands planted on your chest, bouncing harder, chasing the pleasure she clearly craves. Her eyes are half-lidded, lips parted, completely lost in riding your cock while your own voice fills the practice room. She looks down at you, voice breathy and needy between moans.
“Fuck… your cock feels so good…”
Joy keeps bouncing on your cock, her hips rising and falling with increasing rhythm. She’s fully committed now, no hesitation, no more half-hearted excuses. She lifts herself up until only the head remains inside her, then slams back down, taking every inch with a wet slap. Her tits bounce beautifully with every movement. You can’t resist anymore. Your hands slide up her body and cup her full, soft breasts, squeezing them greedily. You massage them firmly, thumbs brushing over her hard nipples, rolling and pinching them between your fingers as she rides you.
Joy moans louder at the added stimulation.
“Ah-! Yes-play with them-!”
She watches herself in the mirrors that line the practice room walls. The sight turns her on even more. She sees herself, completely naked, flushed and sweaty, bouncing shamelessly on your cock like a slut. Her tits jiggling in your hands, her hips rolling, her pussy swallowing your thick length again and again. The reflection makes her feel incredibly sexy. That realization gives her a sudden surge of confidence. Her riding becomes bolder, more aggressive. She starts rolling her hips in deep, sensual circles on the downstroke, grinding her clit against you before lifting up and dropping again.
She gets more vocal too. Not just moans and whimpers anymore, actual words spill from her lips between heavy breaths.
“Fuck-your cock feels so good inside me…”
“Look at me-look how I’m riding you…”
“Harder-squeeze my tits harder-!”
While Joy loses herself in her reflection, you can’t stop staring at her body. Your eyes are glued to her abs now. The way they flex and tighten every time she lifts herself up, the smooth, toned muscles of her tight tummy rolling and contracting as she bounces on your cock. The sight is hypnotic. Every time she drops down, her stomach tightens beautifully, highlighting the definition of her core. You keep massaging her tits, squeezing the soft flesh, pinching her nipples while she rides you faster and more desperately. Joy’s moans grow louder and filthier as she watches herself in the mirror.
“Shit, I look so fucking hot riding your cock…”
She gasps, voice trembling with arousal.
“Look at my tits-they’re bouncing so much-ahh-!”
She grinds down harder, her pussy clenching around you as she chases the pleasure, completely lost in the sight of her own body moving on top of you. Her tight tummy keeps flexing and rolling with every bounce, and you can’t take your eyes off it - or off the way her tits jiggle in your hands while she rides you like she was made for it.
Joy’s breathing is ragged now, her moans turning into needy cries as she gets closer again.
“Fuck-I’m gonna-I’m getting close again-!”
She doesn’t slow down. If anything, she rides you even harder, eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror, completely addicted to how she looks while taking your cock. You try to thrust up into Joy from below, eager to take control and drive deeper into her, but she immediately presses her hands down on your chest, stopping your hips.
“No. Let noona take care of you.”
She grinds down harder instead, rolling her hips in slow, steady circles, her tight pussy swallowing every inch of your cock and squeezing around you as she moves. The motion is sinful and deep and sensual and she’s completely in control.
Your hands leave her tits, sliding down her body again, roaming over her waist, her hips, the curve of her ass, then back up her sides. You trace every inch of her smooth skin, feeling the way her muscles flex and roll as she rides you. The more you touch her, the more confident Joy becomes. She sits up straighter, hands braced on your chest, and starts talking dirtier, her voice breathy and teasing between moans.
“Look at you… lying there while I use your cock…”
“Mmm-you like when noona rides you like this?”
“My pussy’s so wet for you… can you feel how tight I am?”
She grinds down especially hard on one roll, making you groan. Her second orgasm is building fast now. You can feel it in the way her walls start fluttering around you, the way her breathing turns ragged and her thighs tremble on either side of your hips. Joy’s eyes flutter, but she keeps riding, her voice growing needier.
“I’m getting close again… fuck-I’m so close…”
She leans forward slightly, tits swaying heavily above you, and looks straight into your eyes.
“Use my pussy. Fuck me until I cum-please-make me cum on your cock.”
That’s all you need. Your hands grip her waist tightly. You plant your feet on the floor and start pounding up into her from below, hard, fast, relentless thrusts that make her bounce violently on your cock. Joy cries out, her whole body shaking above you.
“Ah-! Yes-! Just like that-!”
Her tits jiggle wildly with every powerful upward thrust. They bounce and slap together, nipples hard and flushed as she’s fucked senseless from below. Joy’s head falls back, loud, broken moans spilling from her lips as she takes everything you give her. Her pussy clamps around your cock, getting tighter and wetter as her second orgasm rushes toward her. She’s completely lost in it now, bouncing and shaking on top of you, tits jiggling obscenely, her tight tummy flexing with every hard thrust while she chases her climax. You grip Joy’s waist tighter and start destroying her pussy from below. Your hips snap upward with raw power, thrusting hard and deep into her tight, soaking cunt. Each brutal stroke makes her bounce violently on your cock, her tits jiggling wildly above you. The wet, lewd sound of your cock slamming into her fills the practice room, mixing with the beat of your song still playing in the background.
Joy’s moans turn into loud, broken cries.
“Ah-! Fuck-! Too deep-! You’re-ahh-ruining me-!”
She can barely hold herself up anymore. Her hands press desperately against your chest as she takes everything you give her, her body shaking with every powerful thrust.
Suddenly, right before she tips over the edge, Joy feels something unfamiliar. A strange, building pressure deep in her lower belly, almost like she needs to pee. It grows stronger and stronger with every thrust. Her eyes widen.
“Oh my god-wait, I feel-I’m gonna-!”
She doesn’t get to finish the sentence. Joy’s second orgasm explodes through her.
Her back arches violently off your body as she squirts hard, a clear, powerful jet of her juices gushing out around your cock and showering your abs and chest. Her pussy spasms wildly, clamping down on you as she comes undone. The sudden gush surprises you so much that your cock slips out of her dripping pussy mid-thrust. You freeze, eyes wide, watching in shock as Joy squirts all over you, her body writhing and squirming on top of you while you instinctively hold her hips in place. She keeps shaking, a broken, high-pitched cry tearing from her throat as the orgasm rips through her. The stream slowly turns into a messy dribble, soaking your skin and the floor beneath you. When it finally stops, Joy collapses forward onto your chest, breathing hard, face buried against your neck.
She’s clearly embarrassed.
“Oh my god…I’m so sorry… I don’t know what happened… I’ve never… I didn’t mean to-”
You chuckle, one hand gently stroking her back.
“It’s okay.”
You say, still catching your breath.
“I didn’t expect you to squirt like that… but it was fucking hot.”
Joy lifts her head, cheeks burning red, but your calm, almost amused reaction seems to ease some of her embarrassment. Instead, it reignites the heat in her eyes. She bites her lip, looking at you with renewed hunger.
“…Since I came all over you, you better do the same.”
She climbs off you slowly, her legs still shaky. Then she kneels between your legs again, looking at you expectantly.
“Stand up.”
You push yourself up and stand in front of her. Joy reaches out, wraps her hand around your cock, and leans in. She starts cleaning you with her mouth, licking and sucking her own juices off your length, her tongue swirling around the head and shaft. She takes you deeper, moaning softly as she tastes herself on you. Her eyes stay locked on yours the entire time, filled with lust and a hint of playful shame. She pulls off just long enough to whisper.
“Let me make you cum now…”
Then she dives back down, sucking you eagerly, clearly determined to return the favor and push you over the edge. Her lips stretch wide around your thickness as she sucks you deep and sloppy, head bobbing with wet, messy sounds that echo through the practice room. Spit drips freely from the corners of her mouth, running down her chin and onto her tits as she works you with desperate enthusiasm.
On one hand, the thrill is intoxicating. The thought of another man, especially you, painting her face with cum makes her pussy throb. She can already imagine the warm, heavy ropes landing on her skin. It turns her on more than she wants to admit.
On the other hand, guilt gnaws at her. What would her boyfriend think if he saw her like this? On her knees in a practice room, sucking another man’s cock like a desperate slut while his song playlist plays in the background? The shame burns hot in her chest… but it only seems to make her suck you harder.
Her thoughts scatter when you groan deeply, voice rough with warning.
“Fuck-Joy, I’m gonna cum-”
She pulls off your cock. Her hand immediately wraps around your shaft, stroking you fast and firm, twisting at the head. Joy tilts her head back slightly, opens her mouth wide, and closes her eyes, waiting. You can’t hold back any longer. With a low, guttural groan, you explode. Thick, heavy ropes of cum shoot across her face in powerful spurts. The first streak lands across her forehead and nose, the second splashes over her cheek and lips, the third paints her chin and drips down onto her tits. You keep pulsing, painting her pretty face with a messy, generous load until her features are glazed and dripping with your seed.
Joy stays perfectly still, mouth open, taking every drop like she loves it.
When you finally finish, she stays there for a moment, eyes still closed, face completely covered in your cum. A thick strand slowly drips from her chin onto her chest.
She looks utterly filthy. And breathtaking.
Joy slowly opens her eyes. She doesn’t wipe her face. Instead, she looks up at you with a dazed, satisfied expression, the shame and lust still swirling together in her gaze. She licks a drop of your cum from the corner of her lips and gives you a small, shaky smile.
“…That was a lot.”
Her face is still painted with your thick load, some of it already starting to drip down her neck.
The apartment is quiet except for the soft rustle of cards. You and Karina are sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, a half-finished game of Go-Stop spread out between you. The coffee table has been pushed aside, and a few empty snack bowls sit nearby. It’s one of those rare calm evenings where nothing dramatic is happening. No schedules, no sudden visitors, just the two of you.
Karina leans forward, studying her cards with a focused little frown. She’s wearing one of your oversized hoodies, the sleeves too long on her arms, and her hair is tied up in a messy bun. She looks comfortable.
She finally plays a card and glances up at you, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
“You’re too quiet tonight. Did something happen at the company?”
You shrug, playing your own card.
“Nothing major. Dropped you two off, ran into a couple people on the way out. The usual.”
Karina hums, not entirely convinced, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she reaches over and steals one of the remaining shrimp chips from your side, popping it into her mouth with a satisfied crunch.
The silence that follows is easy, almost peaceful. Until the front door clicks open.
Giselle steps inside, still in her workout clothes. Loose sweatpants and a cropped top that shows a strip of her stomach. She pauses when she sees the two of you on the floor, cards scattered everywhere.
“Oh… card night?”
She asks, voice soft and a little awkward.
Karina looks up and smiles.
“Yeah. Want to join? We’re almost done with this round.”
Giselle hesitates for a second, then nods. She kicks off her shoes and walks over, lowering herself onto the floor beside Karina. She glances at you briefly, just a quick look, before focusing on the cards. The three of you continue the game in relative silence for a few minutes. The atmosphere is… strange. Not uncomfortable exactly, but layered. You can feel the weight of everything that’s happened recently hanging in the air.
Karina wins the round with a satisfied little laugh, collecting the points.
“Ha! I’m on fire tonight.”
Giselle smiles faintly, but her eyes flick toward you again when she thinks you’re not looking. Karina deals the next round, humming softly to herself.
“So,”
She says casually, not looking up from the cards.
“How was your day, oppa? Anything interesting happen after you left us?”
Her tone is light, but there’s a tiny edge to it. The kind that makes you wonder if she already knows more than she’s letting on. Giselle stays quiet, pretending to focus on arranging her cards, but you notice the way her fingers tighten slightly around them.
The game continues, but the peaceful card night suddenly feels a lot more loaded than it did five minutes ago. Karina is winning again, humming happily as she collects points, while Giselle plays quietly, occasionally stealing glances at you when she thinks no one is looking.
Your phone vibrates once on the floor beside you. You glance down, expecting maybe a schedule update or a random message from your manager. Instead, the notification shows a new message from Seulgi.
You unlock the phone and open it. The picture loads.
You stare at the photo for a second longer than you should. The way the fabric clings to her body, the subtle flex of her abs…it’s clearly not just about working out.
You know exactly what Seulgi’s intention is.
A small, dangerous spark of excitement runs through you. You remember how tight her ass felt last time, how she moaned when you fucked her. The idea of bending her over again, maybe even taking her ass once more, makes your cock twitch slightly in your pants. You’re still convinced you’re winning this month. Karina lost. You’ve already gotten plenty of release. So why not enjoy it?
You type a quick reply, keeping it casual but open.
“Sure. What time?”
You hit send and lock the phone, placing it back on the floor as if nothing happened.
Karina looks up from her cards, raising an eyebrow.
“Who was that?”
“Just management stuff.”
You lie smoothly, picking up your next card.
“Nothing important.”
Giselle stays quiet, but you catch her eyes flicking toward your phone for a split second before she looks back down at her hand.
The game continues. Karina wins the round again and laughs triumphantly, leaning over to ruffle your hair.
“You’re distracted tonight, oppa. Losing on purpose?”
You smile and shrug, trying to keep your expression neutral.
“Maybe I’m just letting you win.” Giselle doesn’t say anything, but the tension in the room feels a little thicker now. You pick up your cards again, but your mind is already half on tomorrow.
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OC x Yujin (5712 words) Commissioned fic! Thanks @jmuns-kpop for proofreading. Filthy fic with pits and feet, so if that is not your thing feel free to skip.
You have never been a lucky person, and over time that turns into a lifestyle, an almost instinctive belief that things will go wrong at the worst possible moment. It is never anything dramatic, life-ruining. Just small, persistent misfortune that follows you around. Being the one asked to give up your seat on an overbooked flight. Getting splashed by a passing bus just as you think you have made it through the rain unscathed. Or having your phone die right when you need it most, like at the payment counter,leaving you standing there awkwardly as the line builds behind you.
And most unfortunately, concert tickets.
Being a fan of IVE was already competitive enough. Every comeback, every showcase, every fan meeting, it all vanishes within seconds. You tried everything. Multiple devices. Constant refreshing. But you are just never that lucky one. Then again, that is not surprising. Like everything else in your life, the opportunity always slips just out of reach.
So close, yet never close enough.
But not going is never an option.
Not when it comes to them.
Not when it comes to her.
Ahn Yujin.
So you adapt. Or maybe you just give in. Scalper prices become routine and painful to the wallet but necessary. Every event, every fan meeting, every chance to see her means another dent in your wallet, another quiet sigh when you check your balance. Still, you tell yourself it is worth it. Because seeing them up close, hearing the music live, that is something you cannot replace.
And Yujin… She makes it all feel justified.
There is something about her that keeps pulling you back. Not just her stage presence, though that alone is enough, but the way she interacts with fans. Warm and mischievous. The kind of smile that feels like it is hiding something, like she knows more than she lets on. Every time you see it, it lingers long after the event ends. But what drives you really feral for her, is how sexy she looks in sweat, after her intense performance. You lowkey wish you would be that towel that she uses to clean herself every time.
At first, you are just another face in the crowd.
One of many.
Easily forgettable.
That is what you tell yourself.
So the first time she looks at you, you brush it off immediately. Just a coincidence. The kind of thing fans like to turn into something bigger than it is.
But then it happens again.
And again.
A glance that lingers just a second longer than it should. A moment during a fan signing that feels… different. Slightly more personal, even if you cannot explain why. You tell yourself not to overthink it. People would call it delusion, and honestly, they might not be wrong.
But what is hope without a little imagination?
You hold onto that thought more than you should.
And then comes the moment of what you deem as a highlight in your life.
At one of the fan signing events, when it is finally your turn, she pauses.
Her pen hovers above the page as her eyes meet yours.
“I’ve seen you before, right?”
For a second, everything else disappears.
The noise, the crowd, the nerves,even the thought of your bank balance,it all falls silent.
Your heart nearly stops.
You nod, barely aware of yourself, and she smiles back at you.
Not the practiced, automatic smile she gives hundreds of fans, but something you want to believe is more genuine. Then she writes your name slowly, carefully, as if she intends to remember it this time.
You walk away in a daze, the signed album clutched tightly in your hands, replaying the moment over and over in your head, half-convinced it never really happened.
But it did.
Because now, every time you see her, it feels different.
Like she recognizes you.
Like somehow, against all odds and misfortune, you are no longer invisible.
Your wallet may be in ruins, and your decisions questionable at best… but your heart?
Your heart has never felt fuller.
Put simply—you are a simp.
Down bad for Yujin.
But at least you are a very happy one.
That is why the letter in your hands now feels so unreal.
You reread it five times before your hands stop shaking.
“Congratulations! You’ve been selected for a backstage meeting with Yujin.”
A raffle.
And somehow—you are that lucky one.
You have followed everything since her debut, and now, backstage With her?
That is a moment you will never forget.
==
The venue feels different the moment you cross the barriers and step deeper into the concert area.
Out front, it is loud, fans shouting their bias’ name, bodies packed tightly together in the usual sold-out chaos.
Back here, it is quiet.
A staff member leads you down a narrow hallway, your footsteps echoing softly against the walls.
“Wait here,” they say. “The encore stage should be over soon.”
Then the staff, leaving you on your own.
You look around.
The room is small—likely Yujin’s personal space. A dressing room. A rack of outfits is pushed to one side. You skim through the dresses, recognizing more than you expect—pieces she has worn before, moments you remember vividly.
It feels surreal.
Like you have stepped into a place you were never meant to see.
And then out of the corner of your eye, something catches your attention. On the table, something out of place. You notice a laced fabric, hanging loosely on the table. You told yourself to ignore it, you really should. But curiosity got the better of you and you stepped closer.
On the table lies a slightly damped black lace panties, slightly crumpled , as if they were torn off in haste. Your pulse kicks up, throbbing in your throat. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. But the thought of her wearing them, the way they’d mold to her hips, the way the dampness would cling to her, fuck, you can’t resist.
“This is where it goes wrong” you murmur to yourself quietly.
You lean forward, fingers trembling as you reach out, brushing the fabric between your thumb and forefinger. It’s soft, almost weightless, but the warmth lingers, like she just stepped out of them. Your cock twitches, pressing against the zipper of your slacks, already half-hard from the thought alone. Then you see it, the dark, glistening patch right at the crotch. Your stomach flips. That’s her. That’s the proof of her arousal, the slick evidence of how wet she gets. The musk hits you before you even bring them to your nose, sweet, tangy, and your self-control snaps.
You lift the panties to your face, inhaling deep.
god.
The scent is intoxicating, warm, thick with the salt of her sweat and the unmistakable musk of her pussy. Your cock jerks, straining painfully now, pre-cum already beading at the tip. You breathe her in again, slower this time, letting the scent fill your lungs, your head, your fucking soul. This is after all your favourite idol and experiencing her in a more intimate way made you lose your mind. The lace sticks to your lips, the dampness transferring to your skin, and you groan, low and needy, your free hand dropping to palm yourself through your pants. Just one more whiff, just one more taste, before you stop and pretend nothing happens.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Your entire body locks up.
Yujin’s voice is amused, dripping with the kind of confidence you see on stage. You yank the panties away from your face like you’ve been burned, but it’s too late. She’s already seen. Fuck, she’s standing right there, one brow arched, her lips curves into a smirk that’s equal parts predatory and delighted. She’s dressed in a black dress that hugs her curves, likely her encore outfit, the neckline dipping just enough to show her cleavage. Her bare feet, fuck, her feet, are planted on the plush rug, toes painted a dark, glossy red, the same color as her nails.
“Didn’t peg you for a panty-sniffer, after all that fan meetings” she smirks while stepping closer. The scent of her perfume wraps around you, but beneath it, you can still smell her, the real her, the one that’s soaked into the lace you’re still clutching like a lifeline. There are a lot of other concerns you should be thinking of right now, but your mind is still hazy from your arousal of Yujin’s scent.
Your face burns. “I—I wasn’t—”
“Lying to me already?” She tsks, shaking her head as she circles you, her hips swaying with every step. The dress rides up just a little higher, giving you a flash of smooth thigh. “That’s not how this works, pet. You don’t get to pretend you weren’t just huffing my used panties like a desperate little slut.”
The word slut lands like a physical blow, sending a jolt straight to your cock. You whimper, your grip tightening on the lace, and she notices. Her smirk deepens.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” She stops right in front of you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off her skin. Her hand lifts, fingers trailing down your cheek, then lower, over your throat, pressing just enough to make you swallow hard. “You like being called what you are. A filthy, panty-sniffing slut”
You should be ashamed. You are ashamed. But the way she’s looking at you, like she’s already decided how she’s going to use you, makes your cock throb painfully. Pre-cum leaks through the fabric of your slacks, sticky and hot.
Yujin’s gaze drops to your crotch, and she grins. “Look at you. Already leaking for me.” Her fingers leave your throat, skimming down your chest, over your stomach, before she suddenly grips your cock through your pants. You gasp, hips jerking upward, but she squeezes, her nails digging in just enough to make you whine. “Pathetic. You’re hard just from smelling me.”
“Y-Yujin—”
“Shh.” She presses a finger to your lips, silencing you. “You don’t get to talk unless I say so. Understand?”
You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp pants. Her finger drags down, tracing the shape of your lips before she pulls away, leaving them tingling.
“Good.” She steps back, just out of reach, and you ache for her touch already. “Now. Since you’re so obsessed with my scent…” She gestures to the panties still clutched in your white-knuckled grip. “Keep sniffing. And stroke that desperate little cock for me. Let me see how much of a slut you are.”
Your stomach twists, but your hand is already moving, fumbling with your belt, your zipper. The sound of the metal teeth parting is obscenely loud in the quiet room. Yujin watches, her eyes gleaming, as you free your cock. It’s flushed, leaking, the head already slick with pre-cum. You wrap your fingers around the shaft, stroking once, twice, the pleasure almost painful after being denied for so long.
“That’s it,” she murmurs. “Fuck your hand like you wish you could fuck me.”
You groan, your hips lifting off the chair that you had tumbled into after losing strength in your legs, as you stroke faster, your other hand bringing the panties back to your face. The scent hits you again, richer now, and you moan, the sound broken & needy. Yujin simply laughs at how much control she has over this situation.
“Louder,” she commands. “I want to hear how much you love my smell. How much you need it. How much you need me”
“I—I do,” you gasp, your strokes turning jerky, desperate. “Fuck, Yujin, I need—”
“Need what?” She steps forward again, her bare foot pressing against your knee, sliding upward, over your thigh. “Say it.”
“I need you,” you choke out, your face burning. “I need to breathe you in. Please—”
“Please what?” Her foot slides higher, her toes brushing against your balls, and you jolt, your cock twitching in your grip. “Use your words, pet. Beg properly.”
“Please let me taste you,” you whimper, your voice cracking. “Let me worship you. I’ll do anything—”
“Anything?” She hums, her foot retreating just as you lean into the touch. You whine, your cock throbbing in protest. “Prove it.”
Before you can process what she means, she’s lifting her foot, planting her sole against your chest and pushing. You topple back, landing on the rug with a thud, your cock still gripped in your hand, the panties pressed to your face. Yujin looms over you, her dress riding up as she hovers over your chest, her covered pussy right there, just inches from your face. The scent of her is overwhelming, sweet, musky, perfect and your cock aches.
“Lick,” she orders. You would think she was referring to her intimate part but no. Yujin shifts her weight so her foot presses down on your sternum, pinning you. “Start with my feet. Show me how much you love my scent.”
You don’t hesitate. After all, you love every part of her.
Your tongue darts out, dragging up the arch of her foot, tasting the salt of her sweat, the faintest hint of her perfume. She tastes divine, and you groan against her skin, your cock leaking onto your stomach. Yujin shivers, her toes curling, and you take it as encouragement, licking again, this time from her heel to her toes, sucking each one into your mouth, worshipping them like they’re the most sacred things you’ve ever touched.
“Good,” she breathes, her voice trembling just a little. “Just like that. Now the other one.”
You obey, switching feet, lavishing the same attention on her left, your free hand still stroking your cock in slow, desperate pulls. The panties are mashed against your face, the lace sticking to your cheek, the scent of her pussy mixing with the taste of her skin. It’s too much yet at the same time It’s not enough.
Yujin shifts again, this time lifting her dress, baring her thighs to you. The sight of her,all of her, makes your cock jerk, pre-cum dripping down your shaft. She’s glistening, her swollen lips could be seen through her panties, it seems she is equally turned on by this situation. But she doesn’t let you touch. Instead, she grabs you by collar and pulls you into her before lifting her arm, pressing her armpit to your face.
“Sniff,” she commands, her voice thick with arousal. “Tell me how much you love my naughty scent.”
You inhale deep, and fuck, she smells even stronger here, the musk of her sweat and her pussy mixing into something primal, something that makes your head spin. Your cock throbs, your balls drawing up tight.
“I—I love it,” you gasp, your voice muffled against her skin. “I need it. Please, Yujin—”
“Please what? I told you to use your words properly” She grinds her armpit against your face, her other foot pressing down on your cock, stroking it with her sole. The pleasure is agonising, the friction just enough to make you whimper. “You want to cum? You want to drown in my scent?”
“Yes!” The word tears out of you, raw and desperate. “Please, please—”
“Beg,” she whispers, her breath hot against your ear as she leans down, her armpit still smothering you. “Beg like the pathetic sniffing slave & boy toy you are.”
“I’m your slave,” you sob, your hips bucking up into the pressure of her foot. “I’m your pathetic sniffing slave. Please, let me cum. Let me worship you.”
Her foot strokes faster, her toes curling around your shaft, and you break. Your orgasm crashes over you, brutal and overwhelming, cum spurring up in thick ropes. You cry out, your body shuddering as she milks every last drop from you with her foot.
Yujin watches, her lips parted, her breath coming fast. When you finally collapse back against the rug, spent and trembling, she leans down, her lips brushing your ear.
“Good boy,” Her fingers tangle in your hair, yanking your head back. Her other hand presses the panties back to your face, smothering you. “You’re going to beg for more.”
Your cock twitches weakly against your thigh, spent but already stirring again under her words. Then she suddenly grabs your wrists, yanking them together above your head. The lace panties, - her panties - is wrenched from your face and wound tightly around your wrists into a makeshift bind. The knots though loose, are efficient enough to remind you who is in control.
“There,” Yujin, moves back, admiring her handiwork.
“Now you’re properly useless.”
Yujin stood over you with one leg on each side of your ribs, ensuring that you have a perfect view of her most intimate parts.
“Open that filthy mouth,” she commands, nudging your jaw with her foot. “I’m not done using it.”
You obey instantly, lips parting as she shifts her stance, one foot sliding up to press against your cheek. “Good slave,” You see Yujin begin hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her own panties and peeling them down her thighs with deliberate slowness. Yujin didn’t bother stepping out of them entirely. Instead she uses the panties as a makeshift cloth to mop at the mess of her feet, wiping the last traces of your cum from her arches and toes with a few efficient swipes. Even the sight of her cleaning herself with her own underwear, makes your cock jerk despite the exhaustion from your previous orgasm. You were down so bad for her. She tosses the soiled fabric aside, then turns to you, her ass hovering just above your face.
“Let’s put this filthy mouth to good use, lick,” she orders, not even bother glancing back.
“And don’t you dare stop until I say so.”
The first press of her pussy against your mouth was overwhelming. She was already wet, her folds slick and swollen, the taste of her sharp and intoxicating. You groan against her, tongue flattening to lap at her. She tastes sweet, just like how you imagine her to be. She rewards you with a slow, deliberate grind, her thighs squeezing your head as she settles her weight onto your face. The rug scratched at your back, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the way her muscles tensed when you circle her entrance, the way her breath hitches when you flicked your tongue against her clit.
“That’s it,” she gasps, her fingers tangling in your hair, yanking just hard enough to make your scalp sting. “Worship this pussy like the pathetic little cumslut you are.” She rocks forward, her ass pressing against your nose, the musky scent of her filling your senses. You didn’t hesitate, your tongue spearing into her tight hole, lapping at the sensitive skin until she shuddered. “Fuck—yes—” Her free hand dropped to her clit, rubbing in tight, frantic circles as she uses your mouth like it was nothing more than a toy designed for her pleasure.
Then her foot was back, this time wrapping around your cock. The arch of her sole slid along your shaft, her toes curling around the base, stroking you with maddening precision. You buck into the touch instinctively, but she stops, her grip tightening just enough to still you. “Uh-uh,”her voice was breathy but firm. “You don’t get to cum again until I do. Understand?” She punctuates the question by grinding down harder, her pussy flooding your mouth with fresh wetness.
You nod as best you could, muffled by her flesh on you.
“Such a good little slut for me,” “Taking my pussy on that pretty face, letting me use your cock like it’s mine…” Her toes teased your slit, gathering the bead of pre-cum there before smearing it down your length. “You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?”
You moan in response, the vibration making her gasp. Her thighs tremble, movements getting more frantic as she chases her own release. “Fuck, just like that—don’t stop—” Her voice breaks on a whine, her pussy clenching around your tongue as she came, her juices coating your chin, your lips, dripping down your throat. You swallow every drop, drunk on the taste of her, your cock throbbing in her foot’s grip as she continues to milk you through her orgasm.
For a long moment, she simply sat there, her chest heaving, her weight pinning you to the rug. Then she shifts, turning to face you, her knees straddling your chest as she lowers herself until her mouth reaches her throbbing cock. “You earned this,” her hand wrapping around your cock, giving it a slow, teasing stroke. “But don’t think for a second you’re getting off that easy.”
Before you could process what she means, her lips parts around the head of your cock. The wet heat of her mouth was almost too much. She takes you deep, her throat fluttering around your tip as she swallows, her tongue working the underside with expert precision. You moan, your bound wrists twisting against the lace as you fought the urge to thrust up into that perfect, suffocating warmth.
Yujin pulls off with a wet pop, her lips glistening. “Mmm, you taste desperate,” she teases, before diving back down, her mouth sealing around you again. You could feel her tongue swirling, her cheeks hollowing, the way her throat constricts around you when she took you to the base.
But just as the pressure in your balls becomes unbearable, she pulls away entirely, leaving you gasping. “Not yet” “You don’t get to cum until I say so.” “I’m going to ride this cock until you’re nothing but a dripping, used up mess.”
Yujin moves to straddle you, then in one smooth motion, she sinks down onto you, taking every inch. The heat of her was heavenly, tight, dripping, clenching around you like she was going to milk you dry. Her nails dig into your chest as she starts to ride you. Her hips rolling in deep , grinding circles.
“Remember pet, you don’t cum, until I’m done with you. Understand?”
Every time she bottoms you out, you would feel her hard clit drag against your pelvis, and you feel the way her pussy clenches even tighter. But she wasn’t going to let herself go so easily. Not while she still have you to torture.
Yujin reaches behind her and unclasps her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms before tossing it aside. Her breasts spilled free, heavy and swaying with each sharp snap of her hips. You watch, mesmerized, as she arches her back, lifting her arms above her head in a stretch that made her tits jut out, her nipples hard and begging for attention. But that wasn’t what she wanted from you.
“Lick,” and again you did not hesitate.
You surge upward, tongue pressing into the damp, musky hollow of her armpit. Again the scent of her floods your senses , making your cock twitch violently inside her. She moans, thighs trembling as she keeps riding you, her pace never faltering even as you lap at her like a starving man. Fuck, you’re such a dirty boy," she gasps, "You love this, don’t you? Love how I smell, love how I use you."
You continue tasting her switching to the other arm, tongue tracing the delicate lines of her underarm, and the slickness of her sweat. She tastes just like a drug, one you can never get enough of. Your cock throbs, trapped inside her tight heat and you could feel your orgasm building. But her words echo in your head, her denial preventing you from letting go fully.
Yujin must’ve sensed how close you are. She leans back, prying you away from her glistening underarms, bracing her hands on your thighs as she changes the angle, her pussy clenching around you in a way that makes your toes curl. Then, she lifts one foot and presses the sole against your cheek. You open instantly, parting your lips as she pushes her foot against your mouth again.
The taste of her skin continues to fill your mouth as you lick the arch of her foot, your tongue swirling over her toes, the ball of her sole, anywhere she presses against you. She kept fucking you through it, her hips slamming down harder now, her breath coming in shorter gasps. "That’s it," she panted, "worship me while I use this cock. You’re mine, aren’t you? Just a toy for me to ride until I’m satisfied."
Your cock was so hard it aches, your balls drawn up tight, your entire body coiling like a spring. You were so close, but you wouldn’t dare cum. Not without permission. Not when she was still using you like this, still owning you.
Then, with a broken cry, Yujin’s body locks up. Her pussy clenches around you like a vise, her thighs shaking as she comes, her release soaking your cock in hot, pulsing waves. "Fuck—! Oh god, yes—"* Her voice was raw, her nails raking on your thighs as she rode out her orgasm, her foot still pressing against your face, smothering you in her scent.
Yujin sat there post orgasm, her chest heaving, her pussy fluttering around you like she was milking the last drops of pleasure from her climax. Then, with a slow, satisfied exhale, she finally pulled her foot away from your mouth and lean forward, bracing her hands on your chest as she looked down at you.
"Wow," "Even you can make me cum." She smirks, rolling her hips once, twice, just to watch you whimper. "Pathetic, really. But I suppose you’ve earned something."
Yujin lifts herself off you, her pussy making an obscene, wet sound as your cock slips free. You groan at the loss of her heat, your cock throbbing painfully. Yujin didn’t give you time to beg. She shifts forward, straddling your hips, her ass pressing against your cock as she reaches between her legs and wraps her fingers around you.
"Cum for me," "All over me."
That was all it took. The image of you painting her was sufficient.
Your orgasm hit you hard, your cock jerking violently in her grip as thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering across her stomach, her breasts, her collarbone. She gasps as the first hot streak paints her skin, her fingers tightening around you as she milks every last drop. "Look at you," "Such a naughty boy, covering me in your mess."
You collapse back against the rug, your chest heaving, your cock still twitching weakly as the last of your release dripped onto your stomach. Yujin leans down, her cum-slicked body pressing against yours as she captures your mouth in a deep, filthy kiss, her tongue sweeping in to claim you all over again.
“Good toy, you did so well for me”
“I was right about my judgement you really are such an easy bait.”
Despite your exhaustion, the statement cuts through the fog in your head, leaving you confused.
“Bait?” you manage. “What do you mean?”
“You really thought I left those panties there by accident?” She tilts her head. “I know you’re too weak to resist. Such a predictable little pet. From all the fan meetings, I can tell… you’re down bad. The type who would do anything just to get closer to me.”
The words hit like a slap.
Your muscles tense instantly, clearing whatever haze you have in your head
Predictable. Weak. Bait.
She had played you.
Everything you have believed that meant something—her smiles, the way she looks at you, the small moments you cling to—none of it is real. It is all part of her plan. Just a way to toy with you.
To her, you are never special.
Just easy.
Memories of your unlucky life flash through your mind, one after another, like a pattern you can no longer ignore. And now it clicks.
This isn’t luck.
You don’t win anything, not even this raffle and backstage experience.
She had manipulated the outcome.
Something coiled within your gut.
Before she could react, you surge upward, grabbing her wrists and twisting. Yujin yelps as you flip her onto her back, her legs splaying open as you pin her down. Her eyes widening in shock, like she hasn't expected you to fight back. Good. Let her be surprised.
"Oh, so the little bitch has teeth?" She smirks even as you press her arms above her head. "Took you long enough.”
You didn’t answer. Instead, you reach for the damp black lace near you, her panties, the ones she’d used to bind you just hours ago. The elastic still stretched from when she’d wrapped it around your wrists. Now it was her turn.
Yujin’s breath hitches as you loop the pace around her wrists, pulling tight. “Wait–”
“Shut the fuck up” You knotted the panties, yanking it hard to keep her restrain.
She tested the bind, tugging experimentally. “Not bad,” “But you’re still not —-mmmph!”
You cut her off by shoving the other pair of panties, the one who was wearing previously , still damp from her own arousal into her mouth. Her eyes flare in protest, but you didn't give her time to spit them out. Instead you clamp down on her mouth, forcing her to keep them. “Shut up brat, you talk way too fucking much.”
Yujin’s muffled noise vibrates against your palm. She glares, but there was something else there—something more needy. She likes this.
Fine. You’d give her exactly what she wanted.
You didn’t bother with any more foreplay. Your cock was already stirring back to life as you line yourself up against her. Yujn’s thighs tremble as you drag the head through her folds, her pussy still slick from her own climax. She was dripping, her body betraying her even as she tries to look defiant.
"You’re already wet for me," pressing just the tip inside. "Such a slut for being used."
Her hips jerks, trying to take more, but you pull back. Yujin whines around the gag, her bound wrists twisting against the lace. You smack her thigh hard.
"Did I say you could move?"
She shakes her head, but her eyes burn with challenge. Fuck me harder, they said. I dare you.
Oh, you’d take that dare.
You slam into her in one brutal thrust. Yujin’s back arches off the rug, a choked scream tearing from her throat as you bottom her out. Her pussy clenches around you, tight like she’d been waiting for this the whole time. You didn’t give her a second to adjust. Pulling out almost all the way, you drove back in, your hips snapping against hers with enough force to bruise.
You grab her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as you set a punishing rhythm. The rug burns against your knees, the friction rough, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the way her body took you, the way her breath hitches every time you hit that spot deep inside her.
"You like that?" you lean down to bite her nipple. She cries out, her back arching. "You like being fucked like the little slut you are, baiting me like I’m you toy?"
Yujin’s answer was a garbled noise, but her pussy flutters around your cock, her thighs shaking. You smacked her ass watching the way her skin pinked under your hand.
Then an idea pops in your head… You wanted her to see it.
With a growl, you haul her up by her bound wrists and turn her around, dragging her toward the full-length mirror propped against the wall. Yujin stumbles, her legs unsteady, but you didn’t let her fall. Instead, you bent her over, pressing her chest against the cool glass. Her reflection stares back.
"Look," you commanded, gripping her hip with one hand while the other tangled in her hair, yanking her head up. "Look at how fucking slutty you are."
Yujin’s breath fogs the mirror as you thrust back into her. Her bound hands scraped against the glass, her fingers splaying as she tried to find a balance. You didn’t let up. Each snap of your hips drove her forward, her tits smashing against the mirror.
"You love this," watching her reflection. "You love being used like a fucking toy. I bet this is all part of your plan too, right?"
Her eyes lock onto yours in the glass, with the same mischievous eyes. Indeed this is all within her plans. You were physically in control, but playing very well into the hands of Yujin. But now , none of that matters. You continue thrusting into Yujin and seeing her pussy clench every time you bottom her out , you knew she was close.
You reach around, finding her clit with your fingers. "Cum for me," you ordered, rubbing in tight, punishing circles. "Cum like the good little whore you are."
Yujin’s muffled scream shattered the air as her orgasm hit. Her pussy pulses around your cock, her body shuddering violently as you kept fucking her through it. The mirror fogs with her ragged breaths, her reflection a mess of flushed skin.
And then you were cumming, burying yourself to the hilt as you paint her walls with thick, hot spurts. Yujin’s body clenches around you, milking every last drop as her own climax starts to fade.
You stay like that, both of you breathing hard, your body still twitching inside hers. Then, slowly, you pull out, watching as your cum drips down her thighs.
Yujin leans against the glass, her reflection a ruin. She looked used. Perfect.
You reached up, untangling the panties from her wrists. Her arms dropped limply to her sides as she spits out the gag. Before you collapse to the floor, totally spent.
“You are the perfect little pet” As you come to your senses, you see Yujin, starts to dress up and clean herself. “You can keep this, your reward for being a good pet“ she tosses the panties towards you. It seems rage baiting you was part of her plan to make you fuck her hard too.
“I will contact you again, to be another “Lucky” raffle winner” I guess your life is still the same, you were never truly lucky but at least today you become an Ahnlucky pervert.
Being Seulgi’s roommate, you mostly have experience with the soft, kind side of her. The ditzy side, the one who would burn her tongue on piping hot tea you brewed for her without fail, the one who cracked so many dishes while washing them that the chore became your sole responsibility, the one whose beaming smile could light up a city and whose energetic disposition could stir even the dead with life.
Right now, the Seulgi that is looking at you is the other Seulgi. The one serious one, the deadly one, the one who comes out during volleyball matches, the one who takes over while studying or as she is otherwise concentrating on something, the one who is now looking at you with a piercing, sultry gaze, the one threatens to bring you to your knees.
“I thought you said you wanted to take these off.” Perhaps emboldened by the alcohol in her system or the positive reaction you gave to her advances, Seulgi’s normally beaming, gentle demeanor is long gone, replaced with a confident seductress, a shameless harlot, that’s shaking her chest at you.
“I do.” you don’t want to admit that you’re feeling a little light-headed, that you feel in over your head, and now that you’re actually here, you don’t want to let Seulgi know that you’re panicking. “But…” Slightly.
“But?” Then Seulgi bites the tip of her finger, lips pulled apart in a coy grin, and your brain malfunctions.
“Um—” Ok, you can admit it: you’re full-on panicking. You can hear your heart racing at ten million miles a minute. “—but, er—”
“You know, you have to come over here to take my clothes off.”
Where did all this confidence come from? You can never comprehend it, how Seulgi manages to flip a switch so quickly, to such a different persona. You sometimes wish you could do the same, but instead, you’re left in your usual bumbling, blustering state, except now, it’s forced to the surface instead of kept inside you.
Breathe. Focus. Stop panicking. Seulgi already pushed herself so much to get to this point. Me hesitating almost made her cry. So, stop—
…
Ok…
You feel like an absolute idiot for only now realizing this, but…
Seulgi likes me?
Her kissing you out of the blue, the atmosphere that was created from that—even before that, the hints she was dropping about that guy, how he was so oblivious—no, even before that, when you learned that Seulgi is only physically affectionate to her female friends, and you? Were you supposed to pick up on that? It all happened too quick, your mind a blur, your thoughts a mess. Not only today, but this entire time. Seulgi is just a good friend, she’s just a kind person, she’s just clingy, she’s just, she’s just… then, all those times she’s told me that she loves me … did she mean more than platonically?
And now, you’re back to panicking. You’re trying to think harder, to see how you could’ve missed it, how it was even possible for this to sneak up on you, how you’ve been so focused on your own burgeoning feelings for Seulgi, suppressing them as much as you could, that you somehow didn’t even notice Seulgi’s burgeoning feelings for you … even thinking that feels atrociously egotistical. Unnatural. Like, Seulgi…? Seulgi? The woman who has been confessed to more times than you’ve has crushes, times twenty, maybe even times fifty? The one who’s gaining campus-wide popularity for her luminescent personality and her radiant beauty, the one who you’ve heard jealous remarks from multiple guys about, wishing they were also as close to Seulgi as you were. That Seulgi. That Seulgi.
Fuck.
“Hm?”
It’s just a word. It’s not even that, it’s just a sound, a short interjection, but hearing it, whipping your head up to look at her face, and you realize: the sultry stare, the teasing bite of her fingertip, it’s all just an act. Seulgi is just putting up a façade of confidence, because now, you see through it: her own hesitation, her fear, her self-doubt, and that calms you. The fact that Seulgi is also, perhaps, struggling with the same mental battles that you are, and more importantly, seeing her revert back to the kind, gentle, slightly ditzy Seulgi that you’re used to pulls you back down to Earth.
Stop making her wait so much. Stop making her be so doubtful.
Stop thinking. Just—
“Is it wrong to stop to admire how great you look in that outfit?”
Seulgi smiles: a mix of bashfulness and sexy allure, like she’s trying to regain her composure but is suffering such hard whiplash from switching back and forth between her two personas that they inadvertently mix together. “Oh. Well…” Another crack in the mask forms, but you can tell that she’s trying, and that is somewhat endearing to you. “…come here and take a closer look.”
You oblige, and Seulgi responds by scooting back on the bed and widening her legs. There’s a small grin adorning her face, although you can’t tell if it’s from nervousness or excitement, or maybe a mix of both. “Of all the people, me…”
“Mmm~” the sound of acknowledgement, bordering on a moan, dips low, takes upon itself a husky quality, and it’s driving you crazy. When you place a cautious hand on her exposed waist, you can feel her flinch for a brief second, but then, just as quickly, lean into your touch. “you…”
“…Why?”
You can’t help but ask. Seulgi is the first woman whose attention you’ve captured, and to make such a claim is beyond wild: it would be like saying that the first time you ever played basketball was in the NBA, or the first time you ever ran an official 100m sprint was at the Olympics.
“Because.” The lingering curiosity in your eyes draws out a fuller answer from Seulgi. “You always ask me if I want something when you’re going to the vending machine at the rec center, and even when I say no, you always know when I’m lying and bring me just want I need anyway. You always find fun places to hang out during the weekends. You spend so much effort in not only our relationship, but classes, making sure everyone is comfortable, and you even attend all my volleyball games. You always remember all the little details, like how I like my coffee with two pumps of syrup or how I always trip on the third step of that one staircase at that one library so you always have your hand hovering around me just in case. You’re always there for me, you always listen to me complain about things, and you’re always so supportive and helpful and you also get along so well with all of my friends…” The speed at which Seulgi is able to rattle off all of that astounds you, and for a second, you’re frozen, your knee pressing down on the spot between her legs on the bed, hands planted on either side of her waist, looking into her dark, shimmering eyes that were but a handful of inches from you. In that moment, she’s absolutely breathtaking, she’s positively glowing, and you’re utterly captured in the sparkling look in her eyes. “…the better question is, how can I do anything but fall in love with you?”
You don’t know what you were expecting when you asked the question. To you, the answer to the inverse question is simple. Seulgi is so luminescent, so unwaveringly kind and always makes sure to include you on everything whenever she can, and it obviously doesn’t hurt that she’s probably the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on, that falling in love with her is simply an inevitability. You know you aren’t any of those things: you aren’t remarkably handsome, you don’t have an amazingly built body, you aren’t extremely talented or competent at anything, so you at least knew to not expect that kind of an answer to your question.
Then what were you expecting? Maybe something like, ‘I spend so much time with you’, or ‘you’re the only man Irene approves of’. Something understandable, logical, something that you can go, ‘aah, ok, that makes sense.’ But everything Seulgi just listed … you’re really trying your best to understand her, but … are any of them special? Are they really things that would make someone fall in love? Aren’t they things that anyone could do?
“Tell me it back.”
You snap out of your haze at Seulgi’s question. “Hm?”
“You still haven’t told me you love me back.”
Despite everything, you break out into a giggle. It’s so childish, so pure and innocent, and also, so Seulgi. Seulgi, the immensely affection woman that she is, showering all of her friends with all the love and attention they could possibly want from such a stunningly beautiful and wondrously kind individual as her, and thus, is showered equally in love and attention in return. But, however much she gets from her friends, she still wants it from you.
“I love you too, Kang Seulgi.”
The unstoppable smile that breaks out on her face, slipping over her lips and onto her eyes, stops your heart. Then, she stops your breath by pressing her lips against yours.
There are a million things that are attractive about Kang Seulgi, and among her attractive physical traits, you would have to say that her lips are at the top of that enormous list. Perfectly proportioned, a pretty, soft-pink hue, and on the rare occasion they aren’t stretched into a warm smile, they take upon a naturally pouty shape. It’s gotten to the point where you had to pay extra attention to not stare, but it’s so damn hard to not, especially after moving in with her. Enjoying some pastries at one of her favorite cafes, or sitting opposite her while eating your dinner, or walking home with boba in hand, or even just talking to her normally, you’ve had to make sure to rip your eyes away from her lips on more than ten, probably more than twenty occasions. The question of if her lips are as soft as they look has, of course, come across your mind, and just minutes ago, you were able to confirm that, indeed, Kang Seulgi’s lips are incredibly soft.
This kiss feels different, though. She’s closer to you, her body pressed against yours and her face so close that you can feel the puff of air from her nose on your cheek; whereas before, the two of you remained relatively static, this time, Seulgi is moving more. Intensely, desperately, like she’s gone without food for two days and your lips are her means of sustenance. You can feel her hands wrapping around to the back of your head, but likewise, your right hand is on her waist, pulling her closer to you while you lean into the kiss. You can feel her legs starting to wrap around your waist, sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress until finally, Seulgi’s back is flush against the soft bedsheets adorning her bed.
The two of you are forced apart to adjust to the new position, but your eyes remain trained on each other as the two of you shift your position. There’s a slight flush on Seulgi’s cheeks, shooting the same beaming grin at you. “Say it again.”
This time, you laugh. “You’re so needy.”
“Say it again!”
You lean down before answering, your face a mere few centimeters from hers before saying, “I love you, Kang Seulgi.”
The pout on her lips turns into a smile in an instant. Her hands loop around up your nape and to the back of your head, and then, you’re kissing her again. The proximity of her face, the feeling of her body heat that’s caressing your skin, the way that she’s kissing you, greedy and impatient and sloppy and wet, the way that her legs are wrapping around your back again and pulling your bodies closer together, the amount of oxytocin flooding your system feels like it’s starting to verge on lethal levels.
You don’t know if it’s the heater that’s been turned up too much or the fact that your bodies have no gaps between them or the incessant motions both you and Seulgi are doing, but you soon find yourself having to separate yourself from her for fear of overheating. “I love you.” Seulgi barely lets herself finish the declaration before pulling you back in. You find yourself inadvertently moaning into the kiss, your hands holding either side of her face. “I love you,” this time, Seulgi has to murmur it against your lips, barely giving any space to breathe before reconnecting to you. “I love you so much.”
Again and again, Seulgi tells you the same thing, never giving you time to process it before going back to kissing you. Each time she says the words, it gets the slightest bit more intense and the slightest bit hotter, until it reaches to the point where you can feel Seulgi’s hand slide down the backside of your neck, down your back, and to the hem of your shirt. Feeling her bunching the edge of your shirt in her hands, you understand her intent and break the kiss. The shirt flies off your head, and you throw it somewhere to the right.
“Oh…”
Her eyes bulge out of their sockets as they land on your torso. However, you aren’t so much as wondering why she’s reacting in such an extreme way and more so trying to remember what about this seems so familiar, when your mind finally travels back far enough and you connect the dots.
“It’s not like this is the first time you’ve seen me shirtless.”
“…hm?”
The tips of Seulgi’s ears are a burning bright red, and from her genuinely confused expression, you can tell that your words went in one ear and exited out through the other.
“I said, it’s not like this is the first time you’ve seen me shirtless.”
“Wh—Wha—” Seulgi begins to stammer, and you can’t help but break out into laughter, “—I, I know! I’m not—it’s not li—I’m, I mean, last time, I—I—” with every break in her sentence, Seulgi’s face grows redder, and you can’t help but notice that she’s having a hard time keeping her eyes off your bare torso. In part due to Seulgi’s influence, and in part due to a desire to be as helpful to Seulgi as possible, you’ve taken it upon yourself to learn to play volleyball yourself, joining an intramural league, mostly with the help of Seulgi. Because of that, you do pretty strenuous physical activity on a somewhat regular basis, but compared to the bodies of even the members of your own rather amateur intramural team, yours is nothing special. “—it-it—I know!”
Logically, you want to tell yourself that Seulgi is just acting, that she can’t actually think you’re your body is anything special. But then again, where has this so-called ‘logic’ gotten you? Getting completely blind-sided by Seulgi’s confession, helplessly panicking at the thought that Seulgi might actually like you—rather, love you, that’s where. Plus, you can also use your eyes and see just how red her face is getting, just how bashful she’s getting, and all of the sudden, you feel your own surge of confidence. “Can I take your shirt off?”
Seulgi simply nods, and although it’s clear she wants to cover her face behind her hands and hide, she obediently raises her arms to let you take her top off and place it as neatly as you can on the nightstand. “After stalling for so long, you finally decided to follow through with what you first set out to do.” The fierce, confident Seulgi is back, but this time, now that you’re not a ball of anxiety, you can respond properly.
“You say that, but it looks like you’re the one more looking forward to taking my clothes off.”
“Then, are you going to let me take the rest of your clothes off?” So she says, but you can see through her façade this time. She says the words, but there’s still hesitation in her body language: her hands that are refusing to come forward, the fact that she’s still laying down on the bed.
Seulgi is too adorable.
“Or are you … going to … um, make me take … take off … ta-take off mine? Wai—… wait, no, I mean, yours?”
All this time, you’ve lived with this juxtaposition: how can someone so gosh-darn cute be also so devastatingly sexy? The answer to the question doesn’t matter, as it all coalesces into one thing: your attraction to Seulgi. And now, you’re finding that they’re mixing together: the cuteness that made you want to coddle her and squeeze her cute little cheeks are now turning you on, and the sexy allure she carries in her eyes and in her voice contrasted with the hints of bashfulness makes you want to hold her close and coo at her. But the outfit that she’s wearing, looking at her laying down beneath you, the kiss you two shared, it’s clear which side is winning out.
“You first.”
You aren’t asking, nor do you wait. Your hands curl around the edge of her shorts, and with a firm tug, you pull them off her legs. Seulgi’s hands immediately go to her crotch, but they aren’t quick enough to block the glimpse you caught of the darker coloration of her sky-blue panties, a piece of undergarment verging on the brink of lingerie rendered even slimmer from it being soaked from her arousal.
“Wha—wait—” you pause at her squeal, but when you meet her eyes, you’re getting mixed signals: her lips are telling you to stop, but her eyes are telling you to keep going!
“Seulgi?”
“Wait, no, don’t … stop…?”
All hesitation gets blown away. Not necessarily because she tells you, as bad as that sounds, but because her adorable-ness is turning you on so much. As bad as that sounds.
“Then…” your hands apply gentle pressure on her hands, which offer no resistance in re-exposing her damp panties. You set them on either side of her body and watch her expression as your fingers curl around the strings of her underwear, and seeing her sucking in a deep breath and feeling her entire body tense under the ghost of your touch against her plush, hot skin encourages you to pull those off as well. Your hands follow the moist clothing down her silky-smooth legs, grinning to yourself at how much she’s shivering at the feeling of her fingers skimming over them, and set them on the nightstand afterwards.
“Hmm…”
The light moan that escapes from Seulgi’s lips turns into another squeal when your fingers brush against the intersection of her legs. “Very nicely shaven.” You look up to her, who is now refusing to look at you. She is instead hiding her face behind her hands, but even that isn’t enough to hide the redness on her cheeks and her ears. “I guess I caught you on a good day?”
Seeing her squirming at your innocently-worded question, intentionally oblivious this time, nearly makes you laugh. “I … so what? I shaved because I wanted it to be nice and neat and pretty, ok?”
And that actually makes you laugh. “It is very pretty. Although I doubt I would’ve said anything different if you hadn’t shaved.” You tentatively introduce two digits to her wet folds, and she lets out a shaky moan. “Wow, and look how wet you are already.”
Despite Seulgi’s face still being bright red, she shouts, “W-Well, whose fault is that?”
“Then, shall I—” you speak as your fingers part her folds and accidentally bump into something suspiciously hard. You may be oblivious, as you’ve recently found out, but you aren’t stupid—you know what it is, verified by how sharply she gasped at the contact, and with barely a second’s hesitation, your thumb joins your index finger to caress it.
“Aa-aahn!”
Seulgi’s sweet-sounding squeal is sheer ecstasy to your ears. Her legs shudder against your other hand, her labia quivers at your touch, and her snatch salivating so heavily at the stimulation in conjunction with her moans encourages you to continue. “Does that feel good?”
“Nng!” Seulgi, apparently barely able to speak coherently, can only answer with that interjection and a flurry of insistent nods. “B—Bu—… hmm …” Realizing she’s trying to tell you something, you slow down and give her a second to catch her breath. “It feels good, but I…” she grows quiet, her face already beet red and her eyes darting away bashfully. You give her the space to finish her sentence, which she does with, “…I want more than just your fingers.”
That right there? Such a devastatingly sexy woman, delivering such a lethal line in such a bashful manner, freeing the uncomfortable tightness in your shorts, nearly tripping over yourself in doing so, throwing it by the wayside and barely even catching the way Seulgi’s eyes bulge even wider at your throbbing erection until you’re positioning it at her heat and you hear such a loud gasp that it pierces through the deep tidal wave of arousal your body just sunk beneath and look up to see her eyes locked on to your cock, biting her lips in anticipation, and in your peripheral vision, her hands clenched into fists.
If not for the situation at hand, you might classify her current facial expression as ‘adorable’. But right now, it’s turning you on like hell.
“…please…”
Seulgi’s barely audible murmur morphs into a high-pitched moan when your tip brushes against her soaking wet sex, pushing her folds aside. The anticipation inside your own body is building too, and as overwhelming as the feeling is, you’re doing everything in your power to hold back. The longer the wait, the greater the payoff. Supposedly.
Tease her entrance with your tip. Rub your shaft against her labia, bathe it in her wetness. Listen to Seulgi’s gasping and sighing and panting, increasingly desperate, her legs shaking with desire, the words spilling out of her mouth growing increasingly needy and dire, dripping with lust and desire. Reeling your own lust in, trying to do everything in your power to continue building up the tension, even going so far as to shift your mind to different topics, when you finally realize—
“Wait, condom.”
Seulgi violently shakes her head, wrapping her legs even more tightly around your waist the moment you try to pull away. “No! Please, just, inside! Now!”
Blood rushes to your head, or maybe it left it—suddenly, all of your senses dulled, all extraneous thoughts vanishing, anything and everything not directly Seulgi fades from your consciousness, and when you finally push past her pussy lips and bury your length inside her in one motion, it’s Seulgi’s shrill scream that breaks you out of your trance.
“Oh god, oh my god…”
And when you draw your hips back and slam back into her, you can feel Seulgi’s entire body shiver with sheer ecstasy beneath you, her legs tensing against your back and her hands shooting out and wrapping themselves around your arms that are planted on either side of her shoulders.
“God, I feel like I’m going to cum already…”
Seulgi’s voice is shaking, tears spilling out of her eyes. She sounds equal parts elated and frustrated, something that you can sympathize with. Barely a few seconds in, and the feeling of Seulgi’s pussy walls fluttering around your cock, the feeling of her hot, wet tightness rubbing against your length as you continue to slam yourself into her with building intensity, and it feels like you’re on the brink already. Seulgi’s heat, her voice that turns you on so insanely much, the way her legs are tightening their grip on your back and her hands are tightening around your forearms and how her cunt is tightening around your cock, the way she squirms and writhes and how her back arches clear off the mattress, every single aspect of the current situation seems to be tailor-built to test your resolve.
“Hnng, god, yes, I’m so close…”
“Fuck, Seulgi, you’re so tight.”
Seulgi opens her eyes and, while hints of a flush still remain on her face, she shoots you a sultry stare accompanied by a mischievous grin. “Does it feel good?”
You nod. “It feels amazing.”
“A-Are you also close?”
You feel like you’re getting swallowed up. Her body, her voice, her warmth, everything is washing over you, consuming you. You’re a rickety raft adrift the violent storm of Seulgi’s lust, just barely holding yourself together. “I’m so close.” Seulgi continues to wordlessly grin at you, drawing out the next question that comes out your lips, “What?”
“I got you to say that word.”
Your mind is definitely way too blasted to try to figure out which ‘word’ Seulgi is referencing, so you just respond with, “…what word?”
“That word. You know: fuck.”
It shouldn’t turn you on so much. It’s just a word, technically. But it’s that word: the naughty word, the swear word, a word you’ve refrained from using around Seulgi because she’s too innocent for that word, but hearing it coming from her mouth, while she’s getting dicked down on her own bed by you, said in a playful manner and with a bit of a moan…
Fuck.
“That really makes you happy, does it?”Seulgi can only squeal out a half-response, a giddy sound in reaction to the increased vigor you’re fucking her with. It doesn’t help that the clear juxtaposition of Seulgi’s sweet voice grating so roughly against the harsh diction of the curse word that it pushes your arousal up to eleven, and now, as you’re looking down at Seulgi as she’s becoming completely undone, whimpering and screaming and moaning and bucking her hips in tandem with your thrusts, you feel the unstoppable tsunami crashing down on you. “I’m cumming—”
“Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Please, just a little more—”
Seulgi isn’t relenting, and with how tightly her legs are gripping your waist, it’s clear that you aren’t going to escape. So, you don’t try to. You let the tsunami crash over you and onto and into Seulgi.
“Hnn—haa, it’s so hot, oh my god—”
Your hips continue to ram into Seulgi as her greedy snatch convulses and squeezes your pulsating cock for all its worth—“wait, Seulgi, wait—” and then more.
“O-Oh god, I’m—aahn!” A final scream from Seulgi and her own orgasm washes through her own body, a salacious blend of bodily fluids mixing together inside her core.
“Shit.” She’s milking you and milking you, and now that her own orgasm is turning up her own intensity, you can’t stop. “Shit, Seulgi…” the sound of your groin slamming against her sex turns damp, and you can see the creampie leaking out of her pussy wedged tightly with your sputtering cock, but as spent as you feel, even though your own climax has faded, Seulgi’s pussy doesn’t seem to get the memo. It continues to pump your cock, slobbering all over it until, nearly a minute later, Seulgi finally comes down from her climax.
“Hm…”
A content, happy hum vibrates out of Seulgi’s throat after you pull out and collapse on the mattress next to her.
“Are you … um, ok? Is it safe?”
“Hm?” Seulgi turns to you, and upon meeting your eyes, she seems to realize what you’re talking about. “Oh! Yeah. Why? Do you want me to get pregnant?”
“I’ll have you know, I tried to let you know, but you didn’t let me.”
Seulgi sticks her tongue out at you. “Well, aren’t you glad I didn’t?”
You laugh. “Well, yeah, but—” your breath catches as Seulgi suddenly wraps you in a sideways hug, her breasts pressing against your arm. You have to take a few seconds to steady yourself before finishing, “—but, I mean, it’s still risky, right?”
“Hm? Why do you still sound so nervous?” You look down at Seulgi to see her teasing smile, and you can’t help but smile back. “After what we just did?”
“Well, no matter what, any guy would be this nervous from being hugged like this by his crush, especially when she’s so beautiful and sexy and perfect.”
It’s so cheesy—it’s so cheesy—but Seulgi can’t help but blush furiously at that. “St-Stop!”
“Now who’s the nervous one?”
Seulgi only laughs back and playfully slaps your shoulder. “Meanie. Let me just stay like this for a while.”
The next morning, as you’re having breakfast, the two of you can’t stop smiling. A couple of natural idiots, just enjoying each other’s company, spending a blissful weekend in each other’s presence, reading, doing homework, watching another movie, playing games, and before you know it, it’s Monday again. As the two of you depart for your morning classes, Seulgi tugs at your arm. “Hm?”
“Goodbye kiss.”
Seulgi is really a needy one. But honestly, you can’t help but swoon at that: how her arms are reaching out to you, how her head is tilted upwards, how her lips are puckered, so you happily oblige, step into her embrace, and peck her on the lips. “There, you fussy baby.”
“Your fussy baby.”
“Well, my fussy baby, I also need to get to class, so you need to let go of me.”
Seulgi pouts, but after rubbing her face against your neck a few times for good measure, she lets go. “See you after class, honey!”
Your heart skips a couple of beats, and when you meet up with Irene at class, your heart is still racing. “Did something nice happen?”
Wow. You’re that easy to read, huh?
“Yeah.”
“What is it?”
“I can’t tell you yet.”
Of all the people the two of you want to tell about your new relationship, Irene is on the very top of that list. However, Seulgi insisted that she wanted to be there to tell Irene the news together at lunch, so you’re now left with a confused but reluctantly accepting Irene. She doesn’t press though, just silently accepts it, and when lunch comes and Seulgi breaks the news to her best friend, Irene’s reaction is … not exactly expected.
“…Oh.” Then, as if realizing what Seulgi just said, she repeats, “Oh!” more emphatically. “Oh! Oh my god, really?”
The delayed reaction … are you thinking about it too much, or is it confirmation of what you’ve been suspecting?
“Yeah!”
“Oh my gosh, since when?!”
“Last Friday!”
“Ooh my gosh, finally! I’m so happy for you two!”
The hugs that Irene gave both Seulgi and you assuaged your suspicions, but as Irene launched into a tirade of questions about every little detail, with Seulgi omitting the more salacious bits, you mostly stayed quiet. Irene would shoot you glances every now and then, but you don’t really know what to make of them: is she suspicious of you now? Irene sounded extremely excited and happy for you two, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve betrayed Irene’s trust.
You’re the last one to get back home that day, and when you do, Seulgi immediately rushes to the door and attacks you with her famous bear hugs. “Welcome home, baby~”
To be fair, this is only day four of being Seulgi’s boyfriend, but hearing the pet name coming out of her mouth, directed at you, and especially followed shortly after by a hug? You don’t know if your heart can take it.
“It’s only been a couple of hours, did you miss me that much?”
The question was asked in jest, but when you look down at her face just a couple of inches below yours, nuzzling against your chest, and she nods very sincerely, you completely melt. “Yeah…”
“Aw, you little baby.” She smiles, nuzzles against your chest, then looks up at you, but before she can speak, you amend your statement. “My little baby.” Satisfied, she closes her eyes again and rests her head against your chest.
“By the way, did you see how Irene reacted to the news?”
“Yeah, she looked … shocked, I guess?”
“Yeah! Right? Now are you still doubting me?”
“About what?”
“About Irene! Her crush on you!”
“Are you sure it’s not because she has a crush on you?”
Seulgi scoffs, removing herself from your embrace. “I guess this is why you were so caught off-guard by my confession.”
“Wha—Hey! That’s not fair!”
“What’s not fair?”
“I—” seeing Seulgi sticking her tongue out playfully at you just makes you laugh. “—I mean, you’re like, probably the most popular girl on campus. You’re definitely the most beautiful girl on campus.” Just like how Seulgi’s pet names make you pause, so too do your compliments to her. That one word, and suddenly, Seulgi is turning away from you, the tips of her ears bright red. “I mean, fantasizing that such a girl likes me? That’s just, you know, a cheesy 80’s romcom trope.” Seulgi laughs at that.
“What do you mean?”
“And then you’re expecting me to believe that the second most beautiful girl on campus also likes me? I mean, there’s being realistic, or I guess socially aware, and then there’s believing that Irene also has a crush on me. Even if it were true, it would still feel delusional to believe it.”
“…I don’t think I follow.”
“It’s more believable that she has a crush on you, right? That’s why she paused? Because she was sad that you’re in a relationship now?”
“No, because she’s the one who pushed me to confess to you.”
Oh.
Ok, that … did that change things?
“I … huh, I see…”
“So if Irene had a crush on me, why would she tell me, her supposed ‘crush’, to confess to someone else?”
“Well, she could be saying that because she wants you to be happy.”
“Oooh my god, baby~” Seulgi laughed and wrapped you into another bear hug, “you just have to come to terms with the fact that you’re … what do you call it? A chick magnet!”
“I … really don’t think I am, though…” never mind that ridiculous claim, it took all of your willpower to get those words out, but just barely. And now, with Seulgi pressing her head against your chest again, there’s no way she can’t hear how fast your heart is racing, but she doesn’t make note of it.
Instead, she says, “We need to work on your self-confidence.”
“I don’t think I have low self-confidence, I just think I’m realistic.”
“Well, the reality is that, according to you, beauty number one and two on campus are in love with you.”
“…ok, if you say so.”
Seulgi laughs at your response. “You don’t sound like you believe me.”
The two of you eventually move to the kitchen to start preparing dinner, staying on the topic of Irene, and while you’re talking, you can’t help but think that it’s strange. Normally, a girl wouldn’t want to talk about another girl she suspects has a crush on her new boyfriend, right? You feel like the topic would be pretty taboo, but for some reason, Seulgi doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seems pretty animated when talking about Irene. Could this be you being oblivious again? But no matter how hard you try to read into Seulgi’s body language and inflections of her voice, you can’t detect any hidden frustrations or grievances.
A week into the relationship, you finally ask the question you’ve been meaning to ask ever since moving in.
“Seulgi, why do you never wear any … you know, like, comfy clothes at home?”
“What do you mean? This is plenty comfortable.”
“Really?” You can’t say you know that much about women’s clothing, so if Seulgi says her clothes are comfortable, then they’re comfortable. Still… “I feel like you never change out of the clothes you go out in.”
“…well, is it wrong to want to always look good in front of the man I’m in love with?”
Seulgi, sounding like a puppy that just got caught sneaking into the treats jar, protests, and you laugh. “Well, but I would feel bad if I was making you wear clothes that aren’t necessarily the most comfortable things to wear, just because you want to look nice in front of me. And also, if that’s your worry, then what about me? I wear pajamas around the house all the time!”
“Well, you look so good in your pajamas!”
Eventually, you somehow manage to convince Seulgi that it’s fine to dress casually at home—a ridiculous thing to have to argue in the first place—but it took a while before Seulgi actually started to do so. Slowly, gradually, Seulgi began to be more comfortable wearing loungewear at home, even getting to the point where she started taking her bra off at home. Admittedly, it did serve as an occasional distraction whenever you happen to see a bit more than you ought to, or when you can see a nipple pressing against the thin fabric of her top, which coalesced to you pushing past Seulgi’s askew bedroom door to seek her out about buying groceries and instead finding her topless.
“Oh shit, sor—”
“Wait!” Seulgi grabs your wrist as you turn around. “Um…”
“…Do you need help choosing your clothes for tomorrow or something?”
Seulgi doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t even respond. She just closes the gap between you, and as her hands snake around your sides, you can feel her breasts pressing against your back. “You see me like this, and you don’t…” You swear, you can hear your own heart beating out of your chest, “want to do anything to me?”
Was this you being oblivious again? Was Seulgi dropping hints all this time? But it was you who proposed that she started dressing more casually.
“Seulgi—”
“Sorry, am I being too much?”
It doesn’t matter, you decide. “What do you want me to do to you?” When Seulgi doesn’t reply, you grab her hands, lightly peel them off your torso, and turn around. Seulgi, instead of answering, is standing there, red-faced, looking very adamantly at the ground, clearly embarrassed about what she just said. You can feel her tugging at her hands, trying to cover her chest, but the gentle hold your hands have on her wrists is enough to dissuade her. “Do you know how much I have to restrain myself on a daily basis? If I did whatever I wanted to do to you, then you wouldn’t be able to attend your volleyball practice.”
Seulgi gasps, and if you didn’t have both wrists in your grasp, she might’ve collapsed right then and there from how badly her knees are shaking. “Oh…”
“Do you want me to prove it?” You ask, but you aren’t really asking. You’re pushing her, guiding her out of her walk-in closet, and when you’ve backed her up all the way to her bed, you pick her up and lay her down onto the soft mattress. You follow shortly after, straddling her with both legs wedged between your thighs.
“They’re sm—” Seulgi’s sentence is cut short when both hands move to her exposed boobs, taking a handful of them in your palms and giving them a light squeeze.
Ever since that first time, the two of you didn’t do anything past kissing. For you, it felt awkward to just tell her you wanted to have sex, especially with how often she inadvertently turned you on by doing the most mundane things, so you just withheld all of that horniness. That, all that pent-up lust, comes up to the surface in that moment, where you’ve had the pleasure of seeing her very shapely boobs in all those tight tops but never dared to ask to touch them despite fantasizing about them for so long, and only now having the chance to do so.
“They’re so—sorry, does that feel good?” So you ask, but looking at her face, you feel like you already know the answer. Her eyes are closed and her head is thrown back against her pillow, biting her lower lip in an attempt to stop herself from making too loud of a noise from the feeling of her breasts getting massaged and stimulated by your hands. Still, “Seulgi?”
“H-Hm?”
“Does that feel good?”
“Ye—nng!” You intentionally wait for her to respond before bringing your thumb up to her areola, but retreating as soon as she interrupts herself with a loud moan.
“Does that feel good?”
“…meanie.”
This time, your index finger joins your thumb in rubbing the sensitive patch of discolored skin sitting atop the peak of her mounds. You can hear Seulgi gasp at the contact, and when you give both nipples a firm squeeze, she lets out another, higher-pitched moan.
“God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
“Then…” You look up at Seulgi, “…then do it more often.”
“I’m serious about what I said earlier, Seulgi. If I did it whenever I wanted to, then you would never have a break from me.”
“Who said I ever wanted a break?”
Seulgi, you feel like, has just been testing your patience this entire time. It almost feels like she’s rage-baiting you, pushing your buttons, seeing how you’d react. A teasing remark, a playful grin, and it works, too. “Seulgi—” this time, nothing interrupts you. You interrupt yourself, your one hand continuing to play with her tits while the other went to her shorts to push them off. The second her legs were rid of the obstruction, that hand dove between her legs and pressed two digits onto her slit.
“Hmm, oh my god—”
Seulgi’s back arches off the bed, another musical moan filling the room. “Careful what you wish for, honey.”
Seulgi opens her eyes again to meet yours. “And you don’t have any idea how often I want to do this with you.”
You want to ask why, but the question dies in your throat.
Seulgi? She’s been horny for you?
“Like, when your rolled up your sleeves to cut up those carrots yesterday, I…” Seulgi dared not finish that sentence, but the way her ears burst into a fit of red let your mind finish it for her.
“You what?”
You still want her to say it, though. Seulgi, the innocent, sweet, pure princess that she is: you want to hear her say naughty words, dirty words, and you want to know that you’re the reason why she said them.
“You know!”
“Hmm, do I? I don’t know, I’m pretty oblivious, aren’t I?”
“Hnnn—” Seulgi’s voice strains as you take your hands away from her sputtering core, “—wai-wait! No…”
“I’m trying to imagine how you were going to finish that sentence, but…”
“Fine! When you rolled your sleeves up yesterday, I had to take a second because I—I got weak in the knees, ok?!”
It’s one thing to finish the sentence in your head, but it’s an entirely other thing to hear her finish it with her own voice. And man are you glad you did, because the surge of confidence makes your chest swell with pride, power, and a desire to act on every illicit fantasy you’ve had of your girlfriend over the past few weeks.
“Naughty, naughty girl,” you say, but reward her anyway by reintroducing your hand to her pussy, this time using three digits to plunge directly into her sweltering heat. Seulgi lets out a sharp gasp, and when your fingers start curling against her walls, the gasps start turning into deeper, louder moans.
“Ooh god! Oh my god, that feels so good, your fingERS!” At that reaction, you know you’ve found the sweet spot.
“Does that feel good?”
You rub that same spot again, and Seulgi vigorously nods. “Yes! Yes, please! Right there!” Your fingers, your entire hand, is already soaking wet, but you don’t care. One hand palming and knead her breasts while the other relentlessly assaults her G-spot, Seulgi’s body shaking with an overwhelming feeling of sheer ecstasy, unabashedly screaming as the accuracy of your fingers and the ferocity of both hands, eventually joining at her overstimulated pussy, increase until, finally, she lets out a brief warning cry before a jet of fluids hits you square on the jaw. “Oh my—” Seulgi, seeing it happen, is half-laughing, half-moaning, wholly red-faced, rides out her orgasm with your fingers that continue to rub that sweet spot, spraying your clavicle, your arm, the bed sheets, and everything in between until she comes off that high.
“Wow.”
As you take your hands away from Seulgi to wipe the mess she made on you, the blushing and laughing girl gets up and moves her hands to help you. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to…”
“…to just squirt on me so feroc—” Seulgi slaps your shoulder before you can finish the sentence, causing you to burst into laughter.
“Don’t just say it! It’s embarrassing!”
“It’s not embarrassing, it’s hot.” Ordinarily, you might’ve felt out-of-place using such language to Seulgi, of all people, but with how embarrassed she is, you can’t help but want to tease her more. Not to mention, she is your girlfriend. As hard as that is to believe, still.
“Well, if it’s hot, then…” Seulgi’s hand slows to a crawl, most of her fluids having been wiped off you already, “…then…?” Her eyes dart to your clothed shorts, which come flying off in the next few seconds, and Seulgi laying down on her back yet again in the following seconds.
But as you’re positioning yourself between her legs, you realize, “…wait. Condom. This time, we actually have them this time.”
“No.”
God.
The first time Seulgi had such a reaction, it was more emphatic, rushed, impatient, needy, horny. This time, she’s more steadfast, concise, but it’s no less heart-wrenchingly arousing.
“Then, what was the point of buying them?”
“That’s what I was saying.”
Despite being her boyfriend, you find that you still have an immense desire to protect her. It’s just now, the way to protect her has shifted: before, it was mostly to protect her from undue advances, but to still give her room to make her own decisions and build the relationships she wants to build. Now, it’s to protect her from herself, and from yourself as well.
“Are you not going to let me get them?”
Seulgi grins. “Nope.” Her legs wrap around your waist. Her sultry gaze bores into you, trapping you, disengaging that protective desire entirely.
“You’re…” you fling off your shirt, grinning to yourself a little as her eyes are magnetized to your torso. Ever since then, you’ve found even more motivation to hit the gym more often, for precisely moments like this. And, although not much as changed, it still makes you feel amazing when Seulgi can’t help but stare. “…such a naughty girl, aren’t you?”
“Well, if that’s makes me naughty, then what about you?” she says to you, who is positioning your dick against her entrance, “my partner-in-crime?”
You answer only by pushing yourself into her, and Seulgi responds with a breathy moan, her back arching off the bed slightly, her legs tensing and her walls flexing as they take your girth in. “God, so tight…”
Your hands gravitate to her waist, and hers to your forearms, driving your cock into her core mercilessly. Deeper, faster, harder, the sound of Seulgi’s moans mix with your own to create a symphony of pleasure that fills the quaint bedroom.
“Yes, oh my god.”
Your eyes are trained on Seulgi, drowning in ecstasy, reveling in all the rough love and attention you’re pounding into her body. All this time, you’ve held Seulgi on somewhat of a pedestal: she’s this sweet, innocent, kind princess that needs to be protected. Now, having heard her clearly expressing her desire to not be treated as such, you’re abandoning the year of pre-conceived notions you’ve developed of Seulgi to adhere to her wishes. “You’re so unbelievably sexy, Seulgi.”
It was a purely incidental action, how your grip of her tiny waist tightened and inadvertently lifted it slightly. That slight shift changed the angle you’re penetrating her at, and in doing so, incidentally caused her back to arch well off the bed. “Ooh god, yes! Right there!”
While it wasn’t intentional, you intend to take full advantage of it. You aim your next thrust for that same spot, and Seulgi reacts with another ecstatic scream. Another, and another, and the more accurate you become, the closer you can her getting: her walls tighten around your cock, her hands clench around your arms. Swaying, moving, rocking in synchronization with your rhythmic motions, the jiggling of her petite breasts catching your eye. You oblige their cry for attention, and when your fingers finally close in on her nipples, Seulgi lets out another warning yelp. “Baby, I’m going to—hnng, I’m going to cum, oh my god, oh my—” Her voice fills the room, fills the apartment, perhaps even the building, and as she vibrates violently against your cock that’s now being flooded with a second tsunami of her wetness, you’re equally unrelenting. “God, oh my god—” Seulgi’s eyes are rolled back, and you make sure to ride out her orgasm to its peak and all the way back down, nearly a minute later, when she finally reaches ground level again.
You extract your sopping wet cock from her pussy and let her bathe in the afterglow of her climax. However, barely a few seconds afterwards, she turns her head to look at you. “You didn’t…”
“It’s ok. Take the rest you need.”
Seulgi shakes her head, flips herself around, and tucks her knees in to prop her ass up at you. Her thighs and buttocks are still shimmering with her ejaculate, and when she reaches around to pry apart those plump pair of mounds apart, two sets of glistening, pink folds stare back at you. “Are you sure you don’t want to—”
Seulgi can’t even finish that sentence before your hands are placed on her romp and your dick is buried all the way to the hilt inside her drooling snatch. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, re-immersing yourself in her heat, her pussy trapping you again in its vice-grip. Seulgi, having just come down from her climax and having not been given much of a break from orgasm to orgasm, how heavily overstimulated she is made worse by how fiercely you’re ravaging her, every thrust carrying with it the full ferocity and pent-up lust from watching Seulgi succumb to two orgasms. The harder you go, the more prominent the sound of her rotund romp slapping against your crotch is, and the deeper you push yourself inside her, the deeper Seulgi’s face sinks into her pillow.
Seulgi, barely able to form coherent words, completely surrenders control of her body to you. Rocking back and forth, each pistoning motion slathering your dick with more of her honey, which then gets splattered all over her bubble butt at each impact.
“Seulgi…”
“Hmm!” Upon realizing that she can’t get the words out, she desperately reaches for you, curling her feet around your knees, trying to tell you by any means possible to stay.
“You want me to cum inside you so badly, then fucking take it!”
At the apex of one last thrust, you unleash a torrent of your seed, and Seulgi, feeling the intense stream of the hot, sticky fluids rushing into her womb, screams into the pillow as the third orgasm of the night wracks her body. When the two of you finally settle down, Seulgi pulls you into her arms to nuzzle against your neck. “I’m … wow. You were so amazing, baby. I can’t believe you … I … three times…”
“You believe me now?”
“Hm?”
“That, if I were to have my way, you’d never have a break?”
Seulgi smiles and nods, craning her head up to plant a chaste kiss on your lips. “Yeah. From now on, you have to let me know when you want to do it, ok?”
The end result was the two of you agreeing to be more open about your sexual needs, and while you still held back a decent amount of time, especially on nights before her games, it led to, for example…
“Right here?”
Seulgi lets out a groan when your tongue flattens against her damp slit. “Why not?”
“…it’s embarrassing…”
“Why? It’s just the two of us.”
Seulgi throws her head back against the couch backrest as your fingers brush against the hard nub sitting north of her labia. “B-But…”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Slowly, bashfully, Seulgi shakes her head, and you take that as permission to dive deeper between her legs. “Ooh my gosh…” the low, grumbling moan tumbles out of Seulgi’s lips, and the more contact your tongue makes with her snatch, the louder it becomes. It barely takes a minute before she’s bucking into your face, so you oblige her wordless request and push your tongue past her folds and into her cunt. “Aah, baby~”
The only way you can respond is with increased eagerness, which you do by adding your hand into the equation. With your fingers playing with her clit and your tongue splitting her pussy walls apart, Seulgi can’t help but buck harder and harder into your face until she becomes completely undone, not sparing a single square inch of your face with her slick. When you pull away, Seulgi is breathing heavily, fully reclined against the couch, and your feel like you can barely keep your eyes open. “That was quite a bit—” the culprit of the situation takes a look at you and bursts out into embarrassed laughter.
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”
“It’s ok, I think I need to go wash my face, though.”
A few days later, Seulgi decides to pay you off in the kitchen.
“Just let me do everything, ok?” You wordlessly let her take your boxers off, and when your dick falls out from the piece of underwear, she grabs it tenderly in her soft, velvety hands. “Look at you, already so hard.”
The sight before you, of Seulgi on her knees, your hardening cock in hand, feels blasphemous. Someone like Kang Seulgi doesn’t belong on her knees—in fact, it should probably be the other way around. Yet, she’s the one who insisted on doing this to you. Who are you to tell her what she should and shouldn’t do?
“Exposing your waist like that, how could I not be?”
You had initially thought that convincing Seulgi to wear more casual clothes around the house would spare you from the insanely eye-popping outfits she used to don on a day-to-day basis, but as you’ve learned over the weeks, that was only partially true. Among those pieces of loungewear were looser outfits, for sure, but the one she is wearing now is nothing short of jaw-dropping. Her slutty little waist on full display, the top stretching just far enough to cup the underside of her breasts, accompanied by a low-hanging pair of shorts that sit just above the intersection of her legs—and then, come time to cook dinner, she tells you that she wants to suck you off right then and there in the kitchen? Such a proposition is physically, emotionally, and mentally impossible to say ‘no’ to.
“Oh,” Seulgi says, her fingers wrapping around your girth and beginning to apply a pumping motion to your length, “so all I have to do is to wear something like this if I want to do it, then?”
“Seulgi, all you have to do is to kiss me for longer than two seconds.” Seulgi giggles, and then places her lips onto your dick. You let out a groan. Your fists ball into fists, another louder groan escaping your lips as she swallows your glans into her mouth. “Shit…”
You can feel her tongue twirling around the sensitive tip of your dick, holding it inside her mouth for a few seconds before letting it slip back out. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she says, winking to you before taking half your length in one fell swoop.
“Agh, fuck—” Seulgi never takes her eyes off you, and when you let out that swear, the smile in her eyes brightens. You’ve noticed that Seulgi, for some reason, loves it when you accidentally utter that word during sex. Because of that, you’ve developed an even greater incentive to stop yourself from saying it at all costs, but in this instance, the curse just flies out of your mouth before you can think to stop it.
“Mmm~”
Her soft, plump lips glide along the circumference of your cock as her tongue caresses its sensitive underside, every back-and-forth motion covering more of your shaft with saliva. It’s a devastatingly sexy visual, one that you can’t take your eyes off of, and how firmly Seulgi is maintaining eye-contact with you only adds to it. It’s an image you want to burn into your retinas forever, but each time your dick hits the back of her throat, you can feel your focus slipping away little by little. Seulgi, meanwhile, is happily humming along as she hollows her already slim cheeks out.
Clenching your fists tighter is all you can do to stay upright, and Seulgi, seeing from the corner of her vision, takes your cock out of her mouth to say, “Baby, you can use your hands if you want.”
“…and do what with them?”
“Put them on the back of my head.”
Day by day, you feel like you’re learning that Seulgi is freakier than she lets on. That pure, loving, happy-go-lucky personality, the beaming eye-smile and the sunny disposition has etched a certain type of persona in your mind that you felt like Seulgi embodied, but when she tells you that she wants you to fuck her face, that image is being shattered week by week.
“A-Are you sure?”
“I’ll tap your hands if I think it’s too much. Although, I doubt you can make me feel that way.”
Seulgi takes your cock back into her mouth, and you put a cautious pair of hands on her head. She nods encouragingly, still maintaining eye-contact with you, and as she resumes her blowjob, your feel your hands following the bobbing motion of her head. It feels good enough already, and as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, you feel your hands tightening around her head, grabbing fistfuls of her hair.
Does she really want you to fuck her face? But what if you’re too rough? She did say she would warn you if that was the case. And, in the first place, you can’t even tell how much of her head bobbing back and forth is of her own volition and how much of it is you. All you know is that, the closer you get, the faster she goes, swapping between letting your dick pound the back of her throat and keeping it there to suck it off, and the longer it goes on, the more you feel like you’re losing your mind. Eventually, it’s the sound of your waist hitting the cabinet doors under the sink you’re leaning against that clues you in that you are, in fact, fucking Seulgi’s face, but she doesn’t make any indication of discomfort. Tears start welling up in her eyes, but no matter how rough you get, her hands never leave their respective places: one holding your hips for stability, the other attending to your balls.
“Seulgi, I’m so close,” you groan, and Seulgi responds with increased eagerness. When it becomes clear that she wants you to unload inside her mouth, you release the tension in your nethers all at once, exploding inside her mouth. And, even as you deposit more and more of your load inside her mouth, Seulgi refuses to break eye-contact, letting her cheeks swell up until, when your orgasm comes to an end and you pull yourself out of her mouth, she’s happily kneeling in front of you with a mouth full of your seed. “Um, the sink’s right here, Seulgi. Here, spit it out,” you say, reaching to help her up and stepping aside.
Seulgi, however, does no such thing. Instead, she sharply inhales through her nose, reels her head back, and in one gulp, swallows the entire thing. You can only stare, half in lustful awe and half in disgust, as her throat flexes impressively to compensate for the sudden intake of fluids now running down her esophagus.
“Oh my god…”
“Why would I need to spit it out? After I worked so hard for it.”
“That’s…” you don’t even know what to say. It can’t be very appetizing, but maybe for women, it’s different? Then again, it’s not like you minded having your entire face covered in her cum, or even swallowing a little bit of it.
“Ok, go back to your room.”
“Huh? But, dinner…”
“You have a test tomorrow to study for, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing! Go study! I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”
“I can help a little bit, though.”
“No!” Seulgi insists, on her feet already and trying to push you out the kitchen. “Go!”
“Um, ok, but at least let me get my pants first.”
“Oh.” Seulgi laughs and takes her hands off you. You put your pants back on, but right after you turn around and take a few steps, Seulgi calls back out to you.
“Hm?”
“I’ll take a kiss as payment.”
Seulgi is standing there, arms outstretched, head tilted slightly upwards, lips puckered, and you laugh. By now, it feels like this pose is her signature pose, and every time, you happily oblige. This time is no different: you give her a quick peck on the lips, thank her and tell her you love her, and then disappear back into your bedroom.
As your relationship with Seulgi deepened, Irene began a new one. Apparently, Jenny, someone who share classes with you and Irene confessed to her out of the blue, and for whatever reason, Irene accepted. You say that because, despite spending more time with Seulgi now that the two of you are a couple, you still spend a good amount of time with Irene, sharing so many classes together and all, and have never really noticed Irene and Jenny talking to each other.
“I told you.”
“What?”
You grin at Seulgi. “Irene did have a crush on you. She can’t have had a crush on me if she doesn’t like men, right?”
“But the fact that she’s going out with Jenny now means that it wasn’t me that she liked, but her, right?”
“Maybe, but it at least means that it wasn’t me that she liked.”
“Hm…”
“…what?”
Seulgi takes a second to answer you. “I don’t know. Something seems weird though. Don’t you think so, too?”
“Well, a little? I guess I didn’t really think Irene knew Jenny that well, but…”
“Doesn’t it seem like … I don’t know, rushed?”
You came to the exact same conclusion, but it wasn’t your place to make such determinations. If Irene wanted to accept Jenny’s confession, then that was that. “Why do you say that?”
“I mean … don’t tell her I said this, ok?” You nod. “I want to be happy for Irene, but she didn’t seem that excited. You know? Like, she almost seemed more excited when I told her that we started dating.” Now that you think back to it, that did seem the case.
“But then, why would she accept the confession?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know.”
It’s been one thing that you noticed, that the two of you candidly talk about Irene a lot. Initially, you tried to tiptoe around talking about her too much, but in the end, Seulgi never seemed to show any jealousy or any such adverse reaction to talking about another women to her boyfriend. It is her best friend, you reason to yourself, so maybe it’s not that bad to talk about Irene, specifically? After all, you don’t really talk about other women that frequently, and especially on the topic of romance.
“Well, we just have to trust that Irene knows what she’s doing.”
The two of you closely tracked Irene’s relationship with Jenny, but as it went on, even you felt like it was a bit too one-sided. Being that Irene was still the best friend of Seulgi and yourself, the two of you would still ask her to hang out every now and then, and whenever you did, Irene never seemed too reluctant to give up time with her girlfriend over spending time with the two of you. The best you could do was watch from the sidelines and hope things were going well with them. As their relationship progressed, so too did your relationship with Seulgi.
“You really bought this, huh?”
Seulgi laughed. “I know right? It was sooo embarrassing, and I was wearing a mask and everything. And what’s worse, when I got to the cash register, I dropped them both on the ground and spent almost an entire minute trying to pick them back up, and when I was trying to get my credit card out of my wallet, it wouldn’t come out, so the clerk was just staring at me for maybe a full minute or two, just watching me fumbling and silently judging me.”
Classic, cute, clumsy Seulgi. “You could’ve told me to buy it.”
“No! It was my suggestion, so it should be me who buys it, right?”
You look at the bottle of lube and butt plug Seulgi handed you a few minutes ago, in equal parts giddiness and bashfulness. “I guess…” This time, the two of you are on your bed, having decided to give Seulgi’s a break, seeing as how the two of you used it and only it the first few months of the relationship. “But … right now?”
“Yeah! I mean, I won player of the game in my last match, don’t I deserve a reward?”
You laugh. “Is that why you were playing so hard?”
Seulgi turns red. Rather, even redder than she already is. “Well, that’s no the only reason!” You don’t reply, and sure enough, she continues, “I just … did have the thought that, if I did win player of the game, then you would agree to this.”
It goes without saying that Seulgi is incredibly athletic. Maybe it’s in part because she’s a volleyball player that her lower body is so well toned—albeit, she is a libero, so there isn’t much of a need to have jumping height—but Seulgi’s pussy always felt tight to you. Did regular strenuous activity have an impact on that? You aren’t sure, but what you have been sure about is that anal is out of the question, at least without some serious help.
So, this is why she got home so late, huh? You figured it was a post-game meeting that held her up, but it was actually that Seulgi visited a certain special store to pick up some special equipment.
“Are you really sure you want to do this?” Seulgi nods with all the eagerness of a golden retriever hearing the word ‘walk’. “Ok.”
“Yay! I love you so much!”
You sigh.
This is so ridiculous. Why is it that Seulgi is the one thanking you for agreeing to do anal? Logically, in all sane realities, it should be the other way around. It should be you begging Seulgi to do it, and only after months of convincing and setting up the perfect date involving a candle-lit dinner and a trip to the spa that she would finally relent.
“Ok.”
By the time you’ve gathered up your resolve, Seulgi is already without clothes, laying face-down on your bed with her knees tucked into her stomach and her legs spread, pointing her butt directly at you. “I’m ready, honey~”
At such a sexy sight, for a moment, the instructions Seulgi had you watch about applying the lube all but disappeared from your brain. Despite it being a few months already—actually, to be fair, it’s only been a few months, so you feel perfectly justified in having such a stupefied, dumbfounded reaction to Seulgi presenting her very shapely ass to you. Seeing it covered in their volleyball uniform is one thing, but seeing it in person—unblemished, tight skin, juicy, taking a few deep breaths is all you can do to stop yourself from taking a handful or slapping it to watch it jiggle in recoil.
“Ok, I’m starting.”
Applying a generous glob of the lubricant to your fingers, you set the bottle down on the nightstand, using one hand to part her butt cheeks while the fingers of the other rubs the cream-like substance around the rim of her backdoor. At the contact, you can hear Seulgi gasp, and you can also see the puckered hole reactively clenching, but as you apply the cool fluid against the hole, Seulgi manages to loosen it back up.
“Ok, I’m done with the first step,” you tell her, reaching for the butt plug and applying another generous glob onto it. You make sure it’s on the smallest size before asking again, “Ready for step two?”
“Mhm!”
Seulgi’s normally chipper voice is laced with the slightest bit of hesitation, and that in and of itself gives you pause. But, if you’ve learned anything about Seulgi in the time you’ve spent as her boyfriend and partner in bed, it’s that Seulgi is much, much sturdier than she looks. When you press the toy against her rear, Seulgi lets out another gasp, and you wait for her to relax before you ease it in.
“Mmm~”
The sexy, low moan that rumbles out of Seulgi’s throat stirs something deep inside you. You make sure you’re rotating it as it inches in, bit by bit, inside her butt. “Are you ok?”
“Mhm…” Seulgi’s response comes out as a wistful kind of low moan.
You continue to ease it in until all that’s left is the handle. “Ok, that’s everything. I’m going to proceed to step three, alright?”
“No wait!” Seulgi’s eyes open and she pushes herself off your bed, wincing a little as the sex toy shifts a little inside her. “I want to do it.”
A few seconds later, you’re left with only your shirt on, Seulgi with the bottle of lube in one hand while the other is gently stroking your erection, kneeling between your legs and face inches away from the thing she’s supposed to be lubing up. “Seulgi…?”
“Hm?” She looks up at you and sees that you’re looking at the bottle of lube she apparently forgot about. “Oh, right.” She deposits a healthy amount of the lubricant onto her hands and begins rubbing it along your shaft. You flinch, the cool, slippery substance sending shivers up your spine, and Seulgi, clearly amused at your reaction, is closely observing your reaction, grinning to herself while she applies it.
“Stop laughing.”
“I’m not laughing!”
“You’re smiling.”
“No, I’m not!”
“I can hear it in your voice, baby.”
It’s only now that Seulgi finally lets out a laugh. “I’m so sorry! But you look so cute, grimacing like that!”
You don’t know how anyone could perceive the face you were just making as ‘cute’—you certainly didn’t feel cute—but you’ve learned not to question Seulgi whenever she makes these types of comments. After all, she did fall in love with you.
After about a minute, Seulgi gets back up to a sitting position. “Ok, done!” She sets the bottle on the nightstand and turns around, presenting her ass with the handle of the sex toy sticking out of the puckered hole to you.
“Ok. Are you sure you’re ready?”
Seulgi turns her head to look at you, giggling. “Are you?”
“…I don’t know, to be honest.”
Seulgi laughs. “It’ll be no different than normal! I’ll make sure to let you know if I ever want you to stop, I promise. Ok?”
“Right.” Hearing that soothes your anxiety somewhat. Knowing Seulgi, you half believe that Seulgi is so insistent about this because she assumes you would want to do this with her, and you even more so believe that she would refrain from letting you know about any discomfort if she knows you’re enjoying yourself. In none of your time together has Seulgi ever voiced any discomfort or anything of the sort, but maybe you can credit that to you being overly cautious. Admittedly, the majority of your concern regarding this is losing yourself so much that you don’t even notice Seulgi’s cries for you to stop until it’s too late, and amongst everything else you’ve tried, this has the greatest potential for harm. “But, really, even if you feel even slightly—”
“Baby,” Seulgi turns around fully this time, soothingly placing a hand on your arm, “I’ll be ok. I promise.”
You nod. “Right. Ok. I’m ready.”
Seulgi gives you a quick kiss in gratitude before turning back around, bending over for ease of access. “I’m also ready.” Your fingers wrap around the handle, and slowly, you pull it out of her backdoor. You can feel Seulgi shudder against your hands as you do so, her moans coming out louder and more clearly this time, and when you finally finish extracting the butt plug, Seulgi lets out a throaty sigh that borders on a moan.
You take a second to admire just how much work the phallus has done in stretching out the hole, then plant your butt on the mattress and guide her onto your lap. This time, when your dick prods at her entrance, Seulgi lets out a whimper. “Seulgi?”
“Yes, please, put it in.”
You take a quick second to steel yourself before pushing past the tight ring of her anus and sinking your length into her lubricated hole.
“Shit, holy fuck, Seulgi.”
This time, you don’t think Seulgi can even hear you say the curse word even as she throws her head back onto your shoulder. The deeper your cock dives into her, the deeper her gasps grow, gasping which gradually transforms into panting. More than the tight pressure of her sphincter muscles is applying to your cock, hearing her gasping so much in sheer elation, feeling her leaning so far back against your chest, feeling her silky hair rubbing against your nape as Seulgi’s body is wracked with the fullness of your cock filling a hole that was never meant to be filled in such a manner is turning you on even more.
“Yes, keep going baby, more.”
You take a second upon fully hilting her to give her tiny hole a second’s reprieve to stretch and accommodate your dick before pulling your hips back and slamming the entirety of your length back inside her. Seulgi’s entire body shakes, its reverberations transferring onto your lap, and when you thrust back into her again, the gasps quickly turn into whimpers.
“Fuck!”
Less often than you using the word, even less often does Seulgi use the word. And hearing her say it in such an emphatic manner turns the dial of arousal from eleven all the way up to twenty.
“Oh, oh my god!” One hand on her waist to push her up and down your shaft while the other wraps around her lap to stabilize her from the front, you use every ounce of strength in your core to push yourself deep into her asshole. “Yes! Baby, keep going! Oh my god, that feels so good!”
You can feel her feet dangling off the edge of the bed, curling and pressing against your shins, her entire body rocking with the force of your every thrust.
“Hmm, you’re so sexy, Seulgi.”
You grumble the word, pressing your lips against her throat, and Seulgi lets out a groan of her own, pressing her cheek against the crown of your head. Her hands curl up against the bedsheets, each thrust causing her sopping wet cunt to leak out more and more of her nectar.
“Ah, I’m—I’m, oh my god, I’m—…I can’t, I’m can’t, oh my god, I’m going to—nng, fuck!”
Your parents have never been particularly strict about using such language, but you try to refrain whenever you can. There are times when it just comes out naturally, mostly from frustration or in pain. However, around Seulgi, there’s something about her that makes you even more aware of the word. It’s like she has some kind of calming effect on you, or rather, more like her very presence makes you more self-conscious about just about everything. Obscene topics, talking bad about people, curse words, everything.
You’re also the type of guy who likes it when your girlfriend tries not to swear, as you do. Or at least, that’s what you thought.
But with Seulgi, everything’s different. Around her, you feel like you’re being forced to be the best version of yourself you can be—and that very effect, the cause of that effect, is Seulgi herself, who is probably just about the best, kindest, most humble and caring and loving human being on the planet. So that’s why, when you hear her swear for the second time in the span of a few seconds, the fingers that were just playing at her sputtering folds dove in without a second’s hesitation.
You can feel Seulgi’s entire body react to sudden intrusion of your two digits into her other hole. Seulgi, mind completely overrun with pleasure, is unable to do anything but chant your name in between moans and gasps. Her body shifts in tandem with the pounding motion of your cock, and your fingers take barely a minute to find her G-spot and rubbing that. And, when that happens, it takes only a few seconds before Seulgi barely chokes out a warning scream before she erupts, exploding past your hand and squirting all over the opposite wall.
“Let all out, baby.” You can feel her shuddering even more as you whisper the words into her ear. “Let it all out.” It’s a pretty breath-taking sight: it’s almost like her entire body is being wracked with pleasure all at once, as opposed to what ordinarily looks like a wave of ecstasy that rolls through her body. As you continue to let her ride out her orgasm, you watch in a lustful kind of awe as Seulgi’s body shudders like you’ve never seen it before. The tightness of her anus contracts, her vaginal walls tightly grip the now three digits that are buried inside her heat, and every convulsion lets out another wave of ejaculate. It takes a few seconds for the intensity of her squirting to stop hitting the wall, and about another minute for her to come all the way down off that high. When she does, against the better judgement of the quickly tightening knot in your lower region, you slow down to a halt. “Need a breather?”
Seulgi nods wearily, panting heavily against your shoulder. Maybe about half a minute later, she speaks up. “Do you want to cum inside here this time?”
You chuckle at that. “Can I?”
She nods. “I want to feel it, too. I want to feel you filling this hole up too.”
You take that as permission to resume, justified in the groan that tumbles out of Seulgi’s lips when you draw your hips back and slam your length back inside her anus. It takes barely a minute to find your rhythm again, except this time, your other hand is on her breasts, cupping the pliable flesh in your palms, letting your fingers sink deeply into the plush texture of the fatty tissue. Every time her body bounces against your lap, they bounce in your hand, and every time you squeeze those hardened teats, Seulgi lets out another whimper.
“Seulgi, I’m so close.”
“Mmm~”
You can feel her nodding in the form of her crown rubbing against your cheek. Every squeeze of her anus exerts on your cock, now also being lubricated by the cum that’s flowing down from her pussy and onto your shaft, brings you one step closer to the precipice.
“Go on baby,” Seulgi whispers, her back arching into your hand as it progressively roughens the squeezing it’s doing on her boobs, “I want to feel it all.”
“Mmm, god, Seulgi, I’m cumming—”
A few more pumps and you explode, spilling waves and waves of baby batter into the hole that’s incapable of making babies.
“Hooh my god, so warm!”
Each thrust inside her asshole is met with equal vigor, the damp sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin joining the cacophony of lewd sounds echoing about the bedroom. Her anus squeezes and squeezes your convulsing cock, greedily taking in every ounce of seed it can take, and then some, leaking out of the tight connection. After you’re spent, you collapse onto the mattress, your softening member slipping out of Seulgi’s backdoor as she pushes herself off you and takes her place inside your arms.
“See? That was pretty amazing, right?”
“…yeah, it was.”
Seulgi giggles and pecks you on the cheek. “Thank you for agreeing to try it out. I know how stressed out you were about accidentally hurting me, but, I’ll have you know, I’m even ready for round two if you are.” You look over at her, who is simply shooting a cheeky grin at you. “I think my other hole is jealous it got to eat such a delicious, full meal.”
Similarly to ‘fuck’, there’s something about Seulgi’s dirty talk that also gets to you. While your refractory period is still active, those words alone, you feel, pushed that fatigue back a couple of minutes, at least. The fact that Seulgi is blushing furiously at having said such lewd words adds to the appeal, too.
“Oh, is it?”
“Yeah. You should do something about it.”
You swing yourself atop her and straddle the svelte woman, looking down at her bright, eager expression. “Maybe I should.”
The very next day, although Seulgi found herself a little sore, she didn’t even hesitate when Irene asked to come the two of you to come over to her place, seemingly with important news.
“Irene?” As soon as the door opened, Irene tackled Seulgi with a hug. Seulgi, a bit startled, wrapped her arms around Irene anyway, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to her. You, watching, couldn’t help but swoon a little at the sight. “What’s wrong?”
“I … broke up with Jenny.”
“Oh no! What? Why? What happened?”
Irene removed her face from Seulgi’s shoulder to look at her. “It was me who broke up with her.”
“Did something happen?”
Irene sighed, turning her eyes at you and offering a smile. You smile back, just as confused as your significant other.
“Um … well, sort of.” Irene steps out of Seulgi’s embrace. “Let’s talk in the living room.”
After the three of you are seated, Seulgi sitting next to Irene on the couch, holding her best friend’s hand and gently caressing it with her thumb, you seated opposite them. In that moment, a brief, random though appears in your head, a flash of inspiration from the scene before you: your girlfriend and your best friend, her best friend, look good together.
You shake your head. What are you thinking?
“I realized that I was just using Jenny. And when I realized that, I couldn’t do it anymore.” The apartment takes upon a somber atmosphere, a nearly palpable one. “I realized I was just … trying to run away.” Seulgi nods empathetically, continuing to gently rub Irene’s hand. “I … oh my gosh, I don’t know if I can say this.”
“Take your time, Irene. If you don’t want to share, you don’t have to.”
Those soothing words from you seem to be what gives her the courage to continue. “When I helped convince Seulgi to confess to you,” Irene glances at you for a spit second before her eyes go back onto the ground, “I just wanted to be a good friend. And I knew how much Seulgi loved you. But, the entire time, it just … I couldn’t … oh, my god…”
Tears started falling down her face, and Seulgi’s lips pulled into a frown. She looked on the verge of tears herself, reaching up and lightly dabbing the droplets away with her sleeve.
“…I felt like a horrible person. I just wanted to escape from it all. I thought I just had to create some distance, so when Jenny confessed to me, a terrible thought formed in my head: maybe, if I became Jenny’s girlfriend, I could get over all those horrible thoughts. But I never did, and every day, it just became apparent that I wasn’t being fair to Jenny. Because, in the end, I thought it was just Seulgi that I’m in love with, but it turns out, I’m also in love with you.”
Irene’s gaze lands on you. For a brief few seconds, silence. Then, you and Seulgi exchange glances, and, inexplicably, break out into smiles.
“Looks like I was right.”
“Looks like I was also right.”
Irene blinked. “…What?”
You’ve spent just over a year bonding with Seulgi, being her friend, then close friend, then boyfriend. It’s said that a couple eventually grow to become like each other over time. You can’t fathom ever becoming the type of person Seulgi is, and you can’t fathom Seulgi ever not being the benevolent person she is, but in that one moment, for the first time, you and her brain connected.
“Well, if it’s both of us that you love…”
“…then, why don’t you become both of our girlfriends?”
COP OUT ENDING, I KNOW, I'M SORRY 😭
BUT, ON THE OTHER HAND...
Part 3...? 👀👀
P.S. I did almost no editing/revising of this, so if you spotted any errors (probably have more than one verb tense errors, and perhaps a pronoun error, as I write in third person for other stuff), please let me know! :D
Just realise I hit 2000. Thanks everyone for journeying through this blog and all the nonsense I randomly write 😂! I have two planned fics request aiming to keep it under 5k words though I think both are filth without plots lmao and I realise shorter fics works better for me. I’m curious what typa of fics / series do you guys wanna see.
Which series or fics would you like to see me write/continue ? No promises though life’s been super busy.
The Forest Nymph continuation
Sex Swinger Cruise continuation
Sultry Guidance
Best Friend
Others (comment or inbox me)
Anything with IU please (I’m nuking my blog if this doesn’t win , kidding)
Voting ended onMar 13
Oh here’s a hint of the two planned fic at this point. Ik not many people are into Minnie but too bad XD
Male OC(s) x Karina, Sakura, Tzuyu, Jennie ft. Sullyoon, Hanni, Eunha, Xiaoting, Jiheon, Arin, Yoona | 23k words | Table of Contents
Chapter tags: drama, angst, bdsm, dubcon, rough sex, group sex, gangbang, anal, dp, aphrodisiac, rimming, brat taming, reverse gangbang
--
If there was a Hell, it certainly didn’t wait for death. It had to be this life itself; death was merely the reward for completing this treacherous journey.
The lines between reality and nightmare had long been erased for me, but nothing could have saved me from this—this cruel, twisted game that we’d all been dragged into against our will, tossed away and abandoned by this despicable world that saw us as pawns and objects instead of flesh and fear, as soulless shells and empty vessels instead of warm bodies with beating hearts and hopes and dreams.
And all I could do was beg for it to stop. For everything to end. From the echoes of Sora’s cries still lingering in the room for anyone left with a conscience to hear, to the undeniable trembling of Karina’s fingers that could only be seen by eyes of those still human.
But begging, as I’ve learned, was futile.
Nobody cared. Nobody heard, and nobody saw.
There was no one left.
So even an eternal kingdom of fire would’ve been better than this.
Team 3 x Karina:
x2 Jacks x2 Kings (+60)
(₩5,430,000,000)
The results hung over the stage like a guillotine blade waiting to drop, and my stomach twisted so hard I thought everything inside me would spill out. I was still on my knees; the ghost of Yujin’s warmth had yet to fully fade from my skin, and the drugs were still pumping violently through my veins, making the edges of my vision vibrate like a broken screen.
Why do they want two Jacks instead of their full table? There has to be a reason—
“Jack,” the handler’s voice interrupted whatever train of thought I had left. “You’re up again. Can you continue?”
Continue? Right now? Like this?
My lungs felt like they were filled with crushed glass, and my head was pounding like a thousand hammers were striking it all at once.
“I...” my voice cracked. I couldn’t even start the sentence, let alone finish it.
“He looks spent,” another voice sneered from the shadows.
A male figure stepped forward boldly—arrogantly—and I didn’t need to look twice to know who it was. The smug Jack. Of course he was assigned. It was like the King of Spades was doing it on purpose.
“I have to admit he fucked that Yujin whore real good earlier,” he said, stretching his arms, as if warming up for a gym session. “But there’s no way he can go again.”
“Call her that again,” I grunted, fingers curling into the carpet, “and I’ll—”
He laughed mockingly. “And you’ll do what? You can’t even move.”
“Jack of Spades,” the handler repeated, impatient now. “Are you capable of performing, or do you need to be replaced?”
My legs trembled, ready to buckle against my will, but the threat of the alternative kept me breathing. “I can do it,” I forced out, pushing myself up. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” he tilted his head, his silver mask reflecting what little light there was backstage. “Because if you are unable to perform, we have a reserve ready.”
Choi Mingyu? No way. If he comes out here—if he gets his hands on Karina—
“No!” I snapped, the word ripping out of my throat to interrupt my own thoughts. “I said I’ll do it!”
The smug Jack chuckled, walking past me to stand by the Dealer. “We’ll see how long this lasts, pretty boy.”
Two more figures emerged from the wings, their masks more discreet than every other VIP’s—less flashy; a matte, dull, lifeless gold. During the break, whispers had floated around the waiting room that the guests from Table Three were Korean politicians, but I couldn’t tell exactly who from just the bottom half of their faces, only that they certainly looked the part, in all the worst ways.
They didn’t look at me, at the Dealer, or even at the audience. Their eyes were locked on the singular figure standing in the center of the stage, like she was the target from beginning to end.
Karina.
She looked unreal, more like a portrait or a masterfully carved statue than a person, the way she stood perfectly still with her hands folded behind her back. The blindfold cut across her face like a stroke of blood and the red collar hugged her throat like a fresh wound, a stark, violent contrast against her pale complexion radiating underneath the spotlight, making her look like a fallen goddess.
“Let us begin, shall we?” the Dealer’s voice slithered through the speakers.
The two Kings moved in a terrifyingly rehearsed unison, as if it wasn’t their first time—on the stage, together, or with Karina.
“Finally,” one of them said, his voice laced with excitement but also something blatantly sinister. “We meet again, High Ace Karina.”
“A High Ace no more,” the other corrected, smacking his teeth. “How pitiful. The shame you must feel facing the crowd like this.”
Without warning, one of them grabbed her arm; the other her hair, yanking her head back—not hard, but enough to show the entire room who was in control. Karina gasped loudly, a sharp, broken sound that echoed through the silent hall.
“Careful, gentlemen…” the Dealer warned from the distance. “As I’m sure you both know, our Karina is quite... fragile. She has a tendency to fold when things become even a little unpleasant.”
“We know,” one of the Kings grunted, running his fingers down her body like he’d been waiting all night, perhaps even longer. “Don’t worry… we’ll be more gentle this year. Just a little.”
Karina didn’t say a word. She just stood there, glaring at them through her blindfold like their presence alone made her sick to her stomach.
“She folded too early last year!” a voice shouted from the audience. “Don’t let her off easy this time!”
More voices joined in.
“Yeah! Make her put on a proper show!”
“This is a giant pot this year, make it worth it!”
The smug Jack strutted over, eyeing her like a vulture waiting for scraps. “I have an idea. Why don’t we just cover her mouth?” he said, pulling a ball gag from the table of equipment. “Prevent her from even saying the safeword. Make sure she can’t fold—”
“Put that away! What the hell’s your problem?” the King snapped. “Are you sick in the head? Besides, they also have hand gestures to fold. The rules say it’s one or the other, and I’d rather tie her cute little hands.”
The Jack furrowed his brows. “Huh… didn’t know there were rules like that.”
“Are you joking? We played two Jacks so you could help control the tempo, given your familiarity with her. And you didn’t even know the rules? Tell me you at least know her limits so you can prevent her from folding.”
The Jack shrugged. “I’ve never fucked this slut before. She’s too elite.”
“What?” they asked, diverting their eyes to me now. “What about you?”
It was like my mouth worked on autopilot. “Go fuck yourselves,” I murmured, steadying my breathing. “Scumbags.”
The two of them scoffed in disbelief and looked into the darkness of the stage. “Hey, House! We need new Jacks—”
The smug Jack put his hands up, interrupting their demand. “Wait. Let me stay. I’ll work with you. We’ll make sure she doesn’t fold,” he said, his voice overly accommodating. “Don’t replace me, I wanna know how her pussy feels. This might be my only chance.”
“This isn’t a charity, Jack. We paid good money for this.”
“I know, I know—but trust me, the other Jacks back there are all done after Yuna fucked them dry earlier,” he said, inching closer, as if trying to gain the trust of a feral animal. “If we’re talking quality, I’m the best you’ve got, really.”
There was some hesitation and murmurs amongst each other, but they eventually nodded.
“Then put that damn thing away and come help,” they said, waving him over.
“Fine,” the Jack muttered, tossing the gag on the floor. “Let’s tie her up.”
“And you too,” one of them pointed at me. “Get over here.”
I didn’t move. I would have rather been shot dead.
“I said come here,” he repeated.
“No,” I snarled, limbs barely holding me up. “I’m not playing your fucked up game.”
There was a rather menacing laugh from the shadows that echoed through the stage, but I couldn’t tell who it was from, nor did I have the capacity to care.
“Why the hell did they send you here then if you’re not going to do anything?” the Jack spat, looking down at me. “Fucking coward. You’re a disgrace to the House of Spades.”
The three of them quickly pulled the crimson ropes from the tables, as if they had practiced a hundred times before the round started. The red cord bit into her shoulders first, looping under her arms and crossing over her chest in intricate patterns that emphasized her breathing without restricting it. Then, they pulled the knots tight at the base of her neck, right beneath her collar, forcing her spine to arch. Finally, they wrenched her wrists upward against her back, securing them into the web they had woven like a cage against her skin.
“So fucking beautiful,” one of them growled, admiring her bound figure. “An actual human goddess... reduced to this.”
“Who do you serve tonight, Karina?” the other said, burying his face into the curve of her neck. He inhaled deeply—a wet, sniffing sound that made me want to vomit.
She flinched slightly, clenching her jaw. “Y-you, Master,” she forced out.
“Oh?” He pulled back, feigning disappointment. “You don’t sound very enthusiastic about it.”
“Did we just pay two and a half billion won for a girl who’s unwilling?” the other sneered, stepping closer.
“No,” Karina gasped, voice shaking. “I want to serve you, Master. I… I can’t wait to make you happy. Please, tell me what you want me to do.”
“We want you to enjoy this,” one of them whispered against her ear, licking her jaw in a slow, dangerous stroke. “Show the audience what it means to be an Ace of Spades, Rina. Wear your collar proudly if you really think you deserve it.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl,” he purred, guiding her down, forcing her to her knees in front of the other King, who had taken his seat on the black velvet chaise, legs spread wide. “Now open up.”
Karina struggled to keep balance with her arms bound behind her back, but the King gripped her shoulders, aligning her carefully, forcing her lips to navigate the space and her tongue to find the hardened cock before her. Her head then fell over, taking him whole, as if anchoring her entire upper body over his cock.
“That’s it,” the sitting King sighed, tangling his fingers in her hair to pull her deeper. “Just like that, baby. Put that pretty mouth to good use.”
“Damn.” The Jack chuckled to himself as he paced around the three of them, admiring the horrifying view. “I wonder if she’s even half as good at sucking dick as Jang Wonyoung.”
“We don’t give a shit about Jang Wonyoung,” the other King muttered, running his hands all over her body as she continued slurping on the other’s cock. “Karina is the only Ace that matters.”
“Well, you’re missing out then,” the Jack said, leaning against the frame of the chair next to them. “Jang Wonyoung’s mouth is crazy. I thought the rumors were overblown, but that whore is an oral prodigy. But don’t worry, I’ll let you know how this one compares once it’s my turn.”
“You talk a lot for a Jack,” the King on the chaise grunted. “Did you know that?”
He grinned proudly. “So I’ve heard.”
The King who had been standing finally dropped to his knees, his shadow swallowing her small frame as he buried his face against the nape of her neck, dragging a hot, wet trail of open-mouthed kisses down the delicate line of her spine, causing her to shiver. His hands moved possessively, kneading the full, pale flesh of her breasts that the ropes had pushed up to accentuate their shape, squeezing them until her skin flushed underneath.
But he didn’t stop there; he dragged his face lower, past the trembling arch of her lower back, taking a long moment to admire the view.
“God,” he breathed, spreading her cheeks wide with zero hesitation, “what a fucking gorgeous looking pussy.”
Before she could even brace herself, he buried his tongue deep in her hole with a sloppy, animalistic hunger that echoed sickeningly through the silence.
Karina choked around the other King’s length, a small, desperate sound escaping the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she tried to accommodate the girth forcing her jaw open, but without her hands to stabilize herself, her head bobbed helplessly with every thrust, her neck straining like a flower stem about to snap.
“Fuck… it tastes so good,” he groaned ecstatically, his voice muffled against her skin. He pulled back, frustration bleeding into his tone as he ran a thumb roughly over her clit. “Too bad it’s not even a little wet.”
The Jack let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Sounds like a skill issue to me.”
“Watch your mouth, you little shit,” the King snapped, glaring over Karina’s trembling hip. “You think you can do better? This is Karina. She doesn’t just give it up.”
“So what if it’s Karina?” The Jack smirked, stepping closer with an arrogance that irritated the entire room. “Every bitch gets wet if you actually know how to break her.”
“Prove it, then,” the King spat, abandoning his position behind her. “Show us your tricks. That’s why we brought you.”
He crawled up her body, burying his face in her cleavage, latching onto her exposed nipples with a hunger that resembled a child’s tantrum. The sound of thick, sloppy suction filled the air, mixing with the choked noises escaping Karina’s throat as the first King continued to thrust deeper into her mouth, forcing saliva to spill out down her chin.
The Jack just smirked and knelt between her splayed legs, prying her apart with ease. He didn’t touch her yet—instead, he leaned in close until his nose brushed against the smooth skin of her inner thigh.
“Whoa, she smells really good,” he snickered, breathing her in. “And her body is soft as hell.”
Karina whimpered, her head thrashing as much as the cock in her throat would allow, eyes squeezing shut.
“Honestly, I’ve always wanted to know,” the Jack taunted, his voice a low, annoying purr as he licked the crease between her cheeks, tongue swirling dangerously close to her other hole. “What it feels like to break... Karina.”
Karina gagged, pulling back just enough to free herself for a split second while she gasped for air, her chest heaving against the King’s mouth.
“How... how dare you,” she rasped, her voice trembling but filled with an innate rebelliousness. “You call Aces by their names?”
“Who’s going to stop me?” The Jack grinned, eyes gleaming with malice. “You?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He buried his face between her thighs, tongue driving straight into her tight hole with a ruthlessness that made her entire body quiver.
“Nngh!”
The sound was torn from her throat—a raw, high-pitched cry that shattered her composure, her mouth falling open in a silent scream that followed.
The King nursing on her breasts pulled back with a wet pop. “Wow, look at that,” he said, amused. “The great Karina melts for a dirty Jack’s tongue in her pretty little asshole? It was that easy?”
“Let’s see her face now,” the King grunted, his cock glistening with her saliva under the harsh stage lights.
He reached down, ripping the blindfold away in one rough motion. She blinked rapidly against the harsh spotlight, her pupils blown wide and swimming in a haze of humiliation.
“Look at us,” he taunted, slapping her cheek lightly with his hard length. “Tell us who you belong to tonight.”
“…I belong to you, Master,” she choked out, though her voice cracked in the middle. “I’m—aah!”
The Jack tongued her hole harder, swirling deep inside, then lapping circles around it afterward, forcing her spine to arch involuntarily.
“There—she’s getting wet now,” he declared in triumph, pulling back slightly to admire the evidence.
“You’re more impressive than you look—and sound,” the other King remarked.
The Jack grinned. “I told you it was worth keeping me in. Now, let’s see how her juices taste...”
He dragged his tongue in a long, wet stripe from her ass straight down to her clit, slurping with a disgusting noise that echoed through the room.
“Oh, that’s good.” He shoved two fingers inside her, curling and snapping against her walls while his mouth ravaged her flesh. “It’s not Minju good, but it’s up there. It’s nice and addicting for sure.”
Karina bucked, a muffled scream tearing through her throat, her eyes rolling back as her thighs trembled violently against the Jack’s shoulders as if the pleasure short-circuited her brain.
“You like this, don’t you?” He laughed, smacking her cheeks repeatedly, leaving pink marks behind. “Say it.”
“I like it,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible over the wet sounds of his tongue.
“Louder!” He continued sucking harder, lapping at her flesh like a dog that hadn’t seen water for days. “Say what you like, you little pervert!”
Drool slipped out of the sides of her lips as she struggled to stay balanced, her hips bucking to every loud, animalistic lick.
“I love having my ass licked,” Karina moaned, the shameful confession leaking out like the wetness below her. “I’m a perverted Ace who really enjoys having this Jack’s tongue in her asshole.”
The audience roared, shouting wild obscenities as the Jack’s fingers worked her relentlessly, forcing her hips to jerk and her cheeks to bounce with every movement.
“Damn, you really are the perfect sex doll, aren’t you?” he chuckled to himself. “No wonder they all love you.”
He pulled back to play with her ass thoroughly, kneading the milky soft flesh and slapping it just hard enough to make it jiggle in front of the crowd, watching with satisfaction as his own spit dripped down towards her now soaking folds.
“You’re just another dirty little slut in the end,” he said, teasing both her holes with his wet fingers. “You’re all the same.”
“Please don’t stop,” she begged, arching her back against the ropes, pushing herself backwards into his touch. “Please… I wanna come while you lick my asshole…”
Her moans grew louder, more desperate, echoing off the walls with a needy, gruesome fervor that caused the King sitting down to grow impatient. He grabbed a handful of her hair, then slammed his cock back into her open mouth, stuffing her full to stifle the sound of her moans.
“Sorry,” he snickered. “As sexy as you sound when you howl like a dog, your mouth is too good.”
The other King stood up, examining the mess the Jack was making between her legs with a visible hunger. “Get out of the way now,” he ordered. “You did your job.”
“Aw, come on,” the Jack laughed, his face slick with her juices. “There’s room to share.”
The King slid himself underneath her hips and forced her thighs wider, dropping his face directly below her now glistening lips, pulling her bodyweight down while the Jack stayed buried between her cheeks.
She squirmed as both of their tongues devoured her holes simultaneously, lapping and slurping with a horrifying ferocity. Her hips and cheeks bounced on their own, each movement increasing in speed, chaining the pleasure until she was squealing like a trapped animal.
“Make her scream,” the Jack grunted. “She’s too quiet. I hate it when they’re quiet.”
“She’s not a screamer,” the King replied, ignoring her exhaustion and shoving himself back into her mouth with a wet slap. “She takes it like a good whore, don’t you, Rina?”
“I can make her scream,” the Jack grinned, eyeing her backside. “Let me fuck her in the ass. That always works.”
“No! She’ll fold. Keep her within her limits.”
The scene blurred into a montage of flushed skin and tangled limbs. They didn’t just use her; they passed her back and forth like a toy, rotating her through positions that felt endless.
But it wasn’t the swapping of juices, the slapping of flesh, or the redness blooming on her body that made my skin crawl—it was how her strangled cries slowly, but surely, dissolved into wet, breathless whimpers of what could only be deciphered as an awakening carnal need.
I watched, because that was all I could do. My stomach twisted into tight, painful knots as two of the Kings hoisted her effortlessly into the air, gripping her thighs like handles, suspending her fragile body like a trophy while the third drove into her from below with a force that shook her entire frame.
“Look at her pretty face,” one grunted. “This is the real Karina. Loving every second of this.”
“Yes, Master…” Karina gasped, her head rolling back, sweat matting her hair to her forehead. “I love it so much. Please keep fucking me like this. Please continue to destroy my perverted pussy that can’t stop coming for you.”
Her legs didn’t kick him away; they hooked around his waist, locking him in for more, while her head fell back with a broken, high-pitched moan that sounded terrifyingly like release.
Then the scene shifted.
She was on her knees, head bobbing helplessly as one of them took her from behind, his hips snapping against her rippling ass while his hands reached around to roughly fondle her breasts, squeezing the pale flesh until her hardened nipples peaked through the slots of his fingers. The other two loomed in front of her, rotating through her mouth. She didn’t even have time to gasp for air before the next one was shoving himself down her throat, and yet, she didn’t pull back. She started leaning forward, her tongue chasing the taste of them desperately, like it was keeping her alive.
“She’s pretty fucking good at this,” the Jack laughed, grabbing her hair to force her deeper onto him. “You’re not too far behind from Wonyoung. No wonder you used to be High Ace.”
Karina pulled back for a split second, a string of saliva connecting her lips to him. “Don’t… ever… call me by my name…” she slurred, her eyes heavy and unfocused. “I’m an Ace… I’m the High Ace of Spades…”
“You’re a cocksleeve,” the Jack corrected, shoving himself back in. “So do your job and make me come.”
And this time, she didn’t argue—she swallowed him whole in a daze of pure, mindless pleasure.
They forced her down onto the Jack’s lap, and she sank onto him with a broken gasp, her hips beginning to grind in a slow, exhausted rhythm. The two Kings wasted no time descending upon her like birds of prey, flanking her on either side, burying their faces into her chest.
“You love it, don’t you?” the King mumbled against her skin, biting down. “Getting your pretty nipples sucked like this. God, you’re delicious.”
“Please…” she sobbed, but her hips were snapping against the Jack, progressively harder and faster. “Keep sucking them. I’ll come. I’ll come again. More, more, more!”
They didn’t let her rest. They hauled her onto the chaise, draping her body over the edge so her head hung over the armrest while a King drove into her with a rhythm that made her entire frame shudder. The second one hovered above, dragging his length between her breasts with bruising force.
She wasn’t drowning anymore; she was drinking from their cups of lust, disappearing under the weight of their desire, her eyes rolling back into a storm of white, completely lost to the pleasure of her own ruin.
The longer it went on, the more it was clear that Karina was breaking, piece by piece, inch by inch, right in front of me.
I knelt there, frozen and useless, paralysis rooting me to the floor, praying for the word “fold” to leave her lips.
But it never came.
The nightmare didn’t end because they were finished with her; it paused because they needed to catch their breath.
“I need a minute,” a King grunted, his chest heaving as sweat dripped down the sides of his face.
He looked at me, his eyes now reduced to black orbs behind the gold mask, as he grabbed Karina by her arms, hauling her up from the floor like a ragdoll, shoving her hard toward me.
My arms wrapped around her trembling frame instinctively as she stumbled and crashed straight into my chest. She felt feverishly hot; her skin was covered with sweat and spit.
“Your turn, hero,” the King sneered, turning his back to grab a glass of water. “You fuck her now. Make yourself useful by keeping her nice and wet for us.”
I looked down at her carefully, afraid that even my gaze would break her. Her head was resting against my shoulder, breaths coming in shallow, broken gasps.
“No,” I whispered, the word barely scraping past my throat. “I won’t.”
A tap from the glass startled me as the handler spoke into his earpiece, “Participate, Jack, or you will be removed.”
I swallowed and gripped Karina’s shoulders, pulling her back just enough to look at her face. Her eyes were swimming, pupils dilating from the pills.
“Karina,” I hissed, my voice merely a desperate thread of sound. “Listen to me.”
She flinched, blinking rapidly. “Karina? Another Jack who—”
“No, it’s not like that—I’m not really a Jack—I know Sora and John,” I whispered, hoping the mics wouldn’t pick it up. “And Wonyoung, too.”
She froze. The haze in her eyes cleared for just a split second.
“I’m Wonyoung’s boyfriend,” I lied—the same lie I’d told a hundred times, but it was the only one that made more sense than the truth. “I came here to help.”
“Wonyoung’s… boyfriend?” She stared at me, brows furrowing with whatever strength they had left. “You’re the Park… Wonbin person? You’re the reason she got in trouble?”
I nodded, guilt twisting in my gut like a knife. “I know you two don’t like each other, but I’m on your side. I want to help you—”
She looked at me like I was insane. “What do you mean we don’t like each other?”
“I—I saw the video where she took your collar. And your title.” I stumbled, confusion washing over me suddenly. “I just assumed you hate her—”
“I love her,” she breathed out, shaking her head weakly. “We’re like sisters.”
Sisters? Wonyoung and Karina?
“Then why—” I started, my voice cracking.
“We’re all playing a role. Just like you are right now.”
In my periphery, I could see the Jack begin to turn back around, looking at the clock.
“Listen to me, Karina,” I choked out, panic rising in my chest. “You have to fold. Please. Just fold.”
“I can’t,” she whispered against my skin. “I can’t just fold for no reason. If the House feels cheated... if the audience feels cheated... I’ll be punished later. It’ll be worse than just enduring this.”
“I can’t do this to you!” I begged, my hands shaking so violently on her bare arms I thought I might bruise her. “Please, Karina. I don’t want to touch you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t hurt me. Just do as you’re told.”
“They want me to have sex with you. I can’t. I can’t do that to you—or to Wonyo—”
“Do it,” she hissed, her voice dropping to a desperate, commanding tone. “Just do it. If you won’t, they will.”
I shook my head frantically, tears blurring my vision until she was just a smear of pale skin and red rope. “I can’t do this to you. Sora and John came to save you, but they failed because of me. This is all happening because of me. I’m the last person who should be—”
“If you want to help me,” she said, pulling me closer until her forehead rested against mine. “Then make me fold yourself.”
“W-what?”
She looked up at me, her eyes tragic and beautiful and full of a terrifying resolve.
“Fuck me,” she pleaded. “Fuck me until I can’t take it anymore. Break me so that they can’t. Give me a proper reason to fold. I’ll fold for you.”
“That’s crazy! I can’t! There has to be another way—”
“Hurry! The drugs are taking over again, I can feel it. Please!”
I stared at her, paralyzed. My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird, the rhythm so violent it made my vision swim. This wasn’t a choice or a favor, it was an execution. I was being asked to destroy her myself out of mercy, as if I hadn’t committed enough sins against her already.
“If you won’t start,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “then I will.”
She dropped to her knees.
“Karina, wait—”
Before I could even protest, her hot, wet mouth had already engulfed me completely.
“Karina, stop!” I gasped, my knees buckling as the sensation hit me like a physical blow.
My own mind was fracturing. Every nerve ending was screaming. The feeling of her tongue—soft, wet, and so incredibly skilled—wasn’t just pleasure; it was an assault. It was like she was trying to suck the soul out of me.
It feels… so good. I have to stop her, but I can’t. My body won’t listen. Why does it have to feel so good? Why is she so good? Is this… really the mark of an Ace of Spades?
My hands hovered over her head, trembling, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer. But she didn’t stop. She sucked with a desperate, terrifying thirst, her head bobbing furiously like she was trying to force me to cave.
“Why won’t you fuck me?” she mumbled around me, pulling back just enough to look up. Her lips were swollen, chin covered with saliva, eyes swimming in a hypnotic haze. “Am I not good enough for you?”
That’s not it—I just can’t see you that way. You’re Sora’s dongsaeng, Karina. I can’t.
Her fingers rubbed frantic circles around her clit, and her moans became so loud in between her sucks and slurps that they started drowning out the murmurs of the crowd.
“Is Wonyoung that much better than me?” she demanded, her voice rising, cracking into a sob.
I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Is she? How can anyone be better than this? This… feels like heaven and hell all at once.
“Does she fuck you so good that no one else can ever compare? Is that why you won’t touch me?”
She gagged around me intentionally, deep and wet as her throat convulsed around my length. When she pulled back again, there was genuine anger in her eyes—a flash of fury that had nothing to do with the auction and everything to do with being denied.
“Answer me!” she hissed. “You don’t want to fuck me? Even like this? Even when I’m begging you?”
My mouth finally worked. “K-Karina, please—”
“Look at me!” she screamed, grabbing my hips to pull me closer. “Everyone wants me! Why don’t you? Why are you denying me? I’m Karina! I’m the High Ace of Spades! You should be honored!”
Before I could answer, the Kings grabbed her arms, hauling her away from me like a piece of luggage they were reclaiming. “Come back here, we’re not done with you.”
“She’s finally losing it,” the smug Jack laughed, watching her thrash against them. “What did you do to her? She’s broken now.”
But something had shifted in her eyes. It wasn’t fear anymore. It was like she wasn’t the same person, and it made me question if she was ever afraid to begin with.
Karina screamed, but it wasn’t a plea or a cry for help. It was a raw, almost animalistic sound of frustration that tore through the room, sending chills down my spine as I kneeled hopelessly on the floor.
She broke free from their holds and lunged forward, grabbing my legs, burying her face in my thighs again.
“Fuck me!” she growled, kissing my skin wildly. “I want you to fuck me!”
I looked down at her—at the desperation in her eyes that was quickly turning into resentment. Then I looked at the audience. No one I recognized was there anymore. John, James, Jake—everyone was gone. Only a sea of monsters practically drooling at the edge of their seats.
“I can’t,” I whispered, tears burning my eyes. “I’m sorry, Karina. I can’t.”
The Jack grabbed her ankle, dragging her back. “Pathetic,” he spat, looking at me with pure disgust. “She’s begging you to use her, and you’re refusing. You’re not a Jack. You’re a fraud.”
He turned to Karina, towering over her. “And you. You’re no High Ace. You’re just a used-up toy. Wonyoung deserves to take your place. She’s twice the woman you are.”
Something inside her completely snapped. I saw it happen in slow motion—a hot wave of rage flooded her face, drowning out whatever was left of the girl begging me for help.
She laughed. It was a manic, broken sound that echoed uncomfortably in the silence that followed.
“Is that what they say now?” she snarled, her voice trembling with a dark, venomous amusement. “That she’s twice the woman?”
A terrifying smile spread across her face, not one of submission, but of a predator recognizing its prey—or rather, a prey realizing it was never one at all.
“You’re all pathetic,” she whispered, the sound low and dangerous. “I’m bored of this show.”
She dropped to her knees in front of the Jack, her hands flying to his already hardening length with a speed that made him stumble back in surprise.
“What the hell—”
Before he could even steady himself, she had him in her mouth, taking him deep with a suction so intense his knees buckled instantly.
The Kings stood frozen, shocked by the sudden act of rebellion and shift in power. They didn’t move to stop her; they just watched, stunned, as she worked the Jack with a violent, punishing rhythm. Her head bobbed furiously, her tongue swirling around his tip while her throat massaged him deeper than he had probably ever been taken in his life.
She looked up, spit still trailing from her chin. “You think only Wonyoung can make you come with her mouth?” she taunted, her voice dripping with anger. “Who do you think carried this House before she was drawn? Who do you think you’re talking to when you dare to speak my name so casually?”
“H-hold on, wait—”
She didn’t let him answer—she didn’t care what he had to say. She swallowed him whole again, sucking with such ferocity that he cried out, his legs shaking violently until he spilled into her mouth with a loud groan of defeat.
“Never call an Ace by her name again for as long as you live,” Karina snarled, spitting his cum directly onto his face just before shoving him aside. “Worthless trash.”
Then she spun around, grabbing the nearest King by the shoulders and forcing him down onto the mat. “Now you,” she said calmly.
“Karina, what’s gotten into—”
There wasn’t a single ounce of care left in her to explain. She mounted his face, grinding her dripping pussy against his mouth with a feral energy that forced him to work for every breath. At the same time, she reached up and grabbed the second King, pulling him down until his cock was level with her face.
“Hurry up and come,” she commanded, her voice ragged as she began stroking him firmly. “I’ve got better things to do with the time remaining.”
She took the second King into her mouth while riding the first one’s face, turning the scene into a grand, shocking performance that left the audience with no room to breathe, let alone think.
But she didn’t stop there.
“Get up.” She grabbed the King beneath her by his hair, yanking him upwards. “Fuck me properly,” she ordered, pushing him to his knees.
She kneeled upright, aligning her ass with his cock before impaling herself back onto him.
“J-Jesus,” he muttered, his hands scrambling to grip her waist for balance as her pussy swallowed him whole. “Fuck—you’re crazy!”
Then, she grabbed the second King’s cock, forcing it between her breasts, squeezing them together around his length.
“What the hell’s gotten into you?” he groaned, struggling to keep balance.
“Harder,” Karina commanded the King behind her, arching her back. “You two talked a big game earlier, but this is all you’ve got?”
She alternated between dragging her wet, open mouth down the second King’s shaft, swallowing him whole, and then pulling back to suffocate him with the softness her cleavage.
“Fuck!” the King in front of her cried out as she squeezed her breasts around his length, milking him with a rhythmic, ruthless pressure.
He couldn’t last. He erupted, hot white streams firing across her chest and neck, painting her pale skin with his defeat.
She didn’t flinch or even move; she just watched him come undone, her eyes gleaming with a triumphant satisfaction as he shuddered and went limp in her grasp.
“Pathetic,” she muttered, staring him down as she continued to grind back against the King behind her.
His composure had shattered completely; his hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her flesh like they were the only thing keeping him from falling off the edge of the world.
She leaned her weight back against his chest, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair, yanking his head forward with a sharp, commanding force. “Come on,” she hissed against his ear. “Harder. Faster. Deeper.”
He obeyed, his hips snapping forward with a desperate, animalistic speed that made her breasts bounce violently with every impact, forcing the cum covering her chest to splash and drip down her stomach.
“Make me fold, Master,” she taunted, her lips parted as she looked right into his defeated eyes. “I dare you.”
He groaned, a low, weak sound of surrender, and leaned back on his hands, his head falling back as the pressure built to what looked to be an unbearable peak.
She didn’t slow the rhythm; she took control instead—pushing herself back onto him with a grinding motion that caused him to whimper.
“I’m com—”
She popped off his length right as he groaned loudly, leaving him to spill his seed uselessly into the air, before hot, thick spurts splashed messily over the curve of her ass and thighs.
“It was that easy?” she scoffed, repeating their words mockingly.
She stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as the three of them lay panting on the floor.
“Oh my,” the Dealer said, voice blaring over the roar of the crowd. “It would seem that the performance has taken quite the turn this year, folks…”
Karina looked at the clock and finally turned to me, as if ready to collect a prize with whatever time remained. Her chest was heaving, her skin flushed a violent shade of pink, and her eyes were wild—dilated, dangerous, and completely locked onto mine. She crawled over the mat, the red ropes trailing behind her like a leash she had snapped.
She didn’t ask this time. She grabbed the back of my neck and buried her face there, her teeth grazing the skin of my throat.
“Park Wonbin,” she whispered against my pulse, her hot breath sending shivers down my spine. “I cleared the table for you. Now will you fuck me?”
She sucked hard, intentionally leaving a mark, branding me right below the leather collar for everyone to see.
“Why are you doing this?” I breathed, my entire body practically screaming to have more of her, even though my mind was fighting profusely. “Why do I have to fuck you? It’s already over. You won.”
She pulled back, her hands tangling in my hair, yanking my head back until I was forced to look up at her. “It’s not over until you make me fold,” she said with a smirk.
“What’s the point?” I said, feeling my mouth water against my will as my eyes focused on her swollen red lips. “What’s gotten into you?”
She tilted her head like a predator toying with its food. “I just want you to fuck me, Park Wonbin,” she said with a fake tone of innocence. “We have to play our roles. They’re all watching. Or are you going to disappoint everyone like you disappointed her?”
She sank down onto me without warning.
“F-fuck…” I gasped, my hands gripping her waist instinctively as her heat completely enveloped me.
She was so terrifyingly hot and wet, moving with so much precision that it was like she was curating every sensation around my shaft.
“Is this how she likes it?” she spat, grinding her hips down. “Does Wonnie prefer when you just sit there and make her do all the work?”
“Leave her out of this,” I grunted, clenching my jaw. “If you want to play games, don’t mention her name.”
She rode me with a punishing rhythm, her nails digging into my scalp, twisting the strands. “Are you mad? Are you going to punish me now?”
It was like my hands had a mind of their own. They latched onto her ass, squeezing hard into her cheeks, lifting them as they bounced up and down my length.
“There you go,” she moaned, running her tongue across my ear. “Touch me. You want to, I know you do.”
“Why are you like this, Karina?” I moaned. “We don’t have to do this.”
“Come on, make me fold. You promised you’d help. You came all the way here to help, didn’t you? Or are you secretly enjoying this too much?” She feigned a gasp. “You love how my pussy feels, don’t you? Could it be—my god—you like fucking me more than Wonnie? You like me more—”
Something inside me snapped. The jealousy, the drugs, the sheer audacity of her taunts—it all boiled over into an exploding rage.
“Shut up,” I growled, flipping her off me.
She gasped loudly as her back hit the mat, but before she could react, I was on top of her. I grabbed her ankles and forced her legs up, pinning them back until her knees were beside her shoulders, exposing her completely.
Her pussy was drenched in arousal, practically leaking onto the mat below us, and her nipples were so stiff that it looked like they were screaming to be sucked on.
I drove into her, sliding right back into her slippery hole without any resistance.
“Ah!” Her head slammed back against the cushion, eyes rolling back.
“Wipe that smirk off your face,” I said, thrusting harder into her as we glared at each other, eyes locked between a dense layer of sweat and fury.
“Oh god,” she moaned, her hand drifting down to rub her clit furiously. “You’re so deep, I can feel you all the way inside me.”
“No.” I reached down and snatched her hand away, pinning it above her head. “You don’t get to come. You have to fold.”
“Then make me!” she screamed, bucking her hips to meet me. “Choke me! Slap me! Fuck me to dea—”
My hand found her throat, squeezing just hard enough to silence her and make her eyes flutter. My other hand lightly struck her cheek; the sound was sharp, shocking, but she just whined, her hips snapping faster, desperate for more.
“Fold!” I barked, slapping her again.
“Harder!” she demanded, hitting me back, stinging my cheek. “Stop holding back! Everyone can see you being a fucking coward! Aren’t you embarrassed?! Do it properly, you worthless Jack!”
It was like I was possessed by something that wasn’t human anymore. I flipped her over, pressing her face into the cushion, and grabbed her hips, pulling her back onto me to fuck her flat on the floor with a fast, punishing pace.
“Fold, now!” I yelled, somewhere between a command and a plea.
“No! I don’t want to fold!” she sobbed into the mat, her voice muffled but ecstatic. “Your cock feels so fucking good! Keep fucking me just like this! Fuck me harder than you’ve ever fucked Wonnie!”
I slapped her ass—once, twice, three times—leaving bright red handprints on her pale skin, but the harder I tried, the more she screamed in delight.
“Fold!” I commanded, pumping into her violently, forcing loud splashing sounds out of her hole as I pulled one of her knees up to deepen the angle.
She smiled, eyes rolling now. “More! Give me more!”
“You really won’t fold?” I warned, reaching down to wet my thumb with her overflowing juices before circling the entrance of her other hole. “Last chance.”
Her lips parted, eyes widening as she stared straight into my eyes, past wherever the windows to my soul were supposed to be. “Do it,” she dared.
I pulled her cheeks apart and pushed my thumb right into her ass, feeling the warm flesh squeezing me immediately like they were fighting off an intruder.
Her entire body seized.
But I kept fucking her roughly, driving into her as hard as I could while my thumb sank deeper with every thrust until she’d swallowed it whole.
She still didn’t fold—she shattered, clamping down on me in both places, milking me with a violence that tore a roar from my own throat.
I couldn’t hold back. I was drowning in whatever demonic force had cursed the both of us to share this sinful moment together.
“Fold, please—” I begged, just before pulling out at the last second.
My hips jerked uncontrollably as I spilled all over the curve of her ass and the dip of her lower back, collapsing right on top of her, lungs burning, heart hammering like a malfunctioning machine.
We lay there for a moment, a tangle of limbs and heavy breathing, while the audience roared with such intensity that I thought it would break my eardrums.
Then, slowly, she turned her head. She shifted, crawling out from under me, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my drenched forehead.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice broken but mischievously satisfied.
Then she turned to the Dealer.
“I fold,” she announced, right before falling over me.
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
“Ladies and gentlemen… the moment has arrived at long last.”
The first thing I felt was the cold, pressing flat against my cheek, as my eyes slowly opened to the sound of the Dealer’s voice echoing through the stage. My skull was hollow, and my limbs were somewhere far away from me, like they weren’t even a part of my body anymore.
Then came the smell: floral, warm, and mildly sweet against a room that reeked of sweat, sex, and cigars.
The lingering trace of Yujin’s perfume mixed with Karina’s clung to my flesh, branded into my throat, collarbone, and arms, reminding me that the nightmare had been real the entire time.
“We now begin the final round of the Blackjack Auction. The last, yes… but certainly not the least—and for many of you, this may very well be the beginning of the real show.”
I blinked against the overhead lights, my body still catching up on what my ears had just registered.
The last round. It was almost over, but the end never felt so far away.
“Now, for our first-time auctioneers, you may have noticed from the beginning that your decks each came with an ace card,” the Dealer said, moving along the edge of the stage with that annoying, exaggerated stance. “Yes, you guessed right… In the final round, these aces can finally be played.”
My stomach dropped straight through the floor. How many more people were going to be dragged onto this stage before these sick bastards were satisfied?
“My lovely patrons, if you’re thinking that ace cards may be used in the final round to bring back Aces from the previous rounds, then you’d be correct!” The Dealer raised a single finger, his voice dropping into a low warning. “But do keep in mind, you may only summon Aces that belong to the same House as the performer—there will be no cross-mixing tonight!”
Bring them back.
The words landed like a slap to the face. All of them, pulled back under these lights for another round of whatever these masked animals decided they were worth tonight.
“However! It comes with a very hefty price tag.” He stopped and spread his arms wide, basking in the hunger of the crowd like it was sunlight as the audience leaned forward in their seats. “You see, Ace cards cost… exactly half of their own pot during their round. So yes, use them wisely… for they can get quite pricey, even for the most prestigious of guests.”
A low hum of whispers broke out across the tables; some sounded like shock, others entertained and greedy.
Half of their pot, just to pull someone back out here. Just to buy another performance from a body that had already given everything it had.
“Now then,” the Dealer said, his voice laced with both malice and excitement. “Shall we begin?”
The giant screens suspended above the stage flickered, plunging the room into total darkness for a split second before a massive, bleeding crimson heart illuminated the space. The scarlet glow washed over the masked faces in the audience, turning the sea of billionaires into what looked like a gallery of predators covered in blood.
“For the House of Hearts’ final performance, we present the princess herself,” the Dealer announced. “She has reigned over the industry for countless years, her career and track record a force to be reckoned with, stealing the hearts of many. Please welcome the High Ace of Hearts… Sakura of LE SSERAFIM!”
The crowd cheered loudly as Sakura stepped out from the shadows, her movements so delicate that she didn’t seem to disturb even the air around her. Like all the other Aces, she wore nothing but a velvet red collar around her neck and a matching silk blindfold, shadows carefully hugging her waist like a dark corset to exaggerate every dip and curve of her doll-like proportions.
“Welcome back, my dear,” the Dealer purred, stepping to the side as if he were unworthy of sharing her spotlight. “In a mere two years, the House of Hearts has already molded you into a deity. Tell me, what do you plan on showing our patrons tonight?”
Sakura stood perfectly still, her hands gracefully clasped behind her back, tilting her chin up slightly. “I have a special talent that I’d like to show you all,” she said softly. “I also want to remind our wonderful VIPs… that those who love with all their hearts will receive nothing but devotion in return from our House.”
An enthusiastic applause instantly filled the hall. It was surprisingly polite, but underneath the cheers and steady clapping, there was an undeniable excitement of men rushing to grab their cards.
“You heard her! Thirty seconds, my lovely patrons!” the Dealer announced with a loud clap. “Show us your true devotion!”
It clicked instantly to me upon seeing the results. No one was even bothering with normal cards anymore—the entire auction had turned into a strategic standoff of who was hoarding their Jokers for their favorite High Aces. Everything prior to this was just foreplay to these people.
“Team Five has played a perfect hand, with no contenders!” the Dealer shrieked, pointing at the board as the numbers shifted to tally the final cost. “Let’s waste no more time, show us your face cards!”
Team 5 x Sakura:
x3 Ace x1 Queen x1 King ((109 + 102 + 175) / 2 + 35)
(₩4,480,000,000)
“One King and three Aces! These Hearts simps are so stupid that it hurts!” someone laughed from the front row. “This Hearts round costs almost as much as Karina’s!”
“Finally, we see the infamous Harem of Hearts!”
“Now this is one round you’re better off watching than participating in!”
The Dealer threw his arms wide, silencing the guests. “Team 5 has claimed the High Ace of Hearts! And in their infinite generosity, they have invoked the absolute right to resurrect the entirety of the House of Hearts!”
He paused for effect—letting the anticipation build before leaning into the microphone.
“Let us welcome back our lovely Aces of Hearts… The delicate Sullyoon! The sweet Eunha! The enchanting Hanni! And of course, the one who holds them all in her embrace… the one and only Queen of Hearts, Yoona!”
From Table Five, only one man stepped forward, just as the screen had promised. He walked up the stairs slowly, carefully unbuttoning his suit jacket as if approaching an altar, before stopping just short of the chair set in the center of the stage.
“It is an absolute honor, Sakura-ssi,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle as he bowed his head to the goddess before him. “I’m such a big fan. I’ve admired you for so many years.”
Sakura reached back and untied her blindfold, letting the silk drop to the floor. She paused to admire the view, her gaze slowly dragging over his sharp suit before a gentle smile bloomed on her face.
“Your Majesty,” she replied softly, pressing her palms flat against his chest to guide him backward until he sank helplessly into the chair. “The honor is entirely mine.”
“You’re so gorgeous,” he breathed, not even blinking once. “You’re just so perfect—”
She captured his tongue without hesitation. It wasn’t a forced kiss, but it was deep and sensual, clearly a reward for his devotion.
They moved together so seamlessly that it looked like a movie scene, right up until she finally pulled away, leaving a glossy shine of saliva across his lips under the stage lights.
“You’re a good kisser,” she said shyly. “I got lucky tonight.”
With a soft exhale, she dropped to her knees, dragging his hands down with her and resting them on her shoulders.
“I want to kiss you here too,” she whispered, keeping her eyes locked with his, as if they were tethered to one another. “Can I?”
“Of course,” he said, heaving from anticipation. “Anything you want.”
“Make sure you serve a King who cherishes us properly, Sakura-ssi,” a velvety voice purred from the dark.
Sakura bit her bottom lip playfully. “Yes, sunbae-nim,” she said, turning her head.
Yoona stepped into the light, her red dress flowing around her ankles while a golden crown gleamed brightly atop her head. She knelt right beside Sakura on the floor, and with practiced, feminine grace, unzipped the man’s trousers, freeing his already throbbing length.
He gasped, eyes darting between the two of them. “I-I thought Queens weren’t part of the show—”
Yoona’s smile alone was enough to silence him.
“Queens can do whatever they want,” she said, simply.
“Thank you, my Queen…” the man whispered, his chest heaving with a mix of lust and profound respect. “I adore all of you…”
Yoona just looked across his lap, catching Sakura’s eyes as they shared a soft, almost telepathic smile—a quiet, mutual understanding of exactly what they were about to do to him before they both leaned in.
“Nice and slow,” she murmured, leaning in to run her tongue slowly up one side of his shaft while Sakura mirrored her on the other. “Just like we always practiced.”
Their heads bobbed in perfect unison as they shared him completely, moving with care, their tongues swirling around the head and shaft, trading saliva and soft, muffled moans. Every few seconds, Sakura would pull back just enough to press a gentle kiss to Yoona’s lips right over him, sharing his taste before diving back in.
The King let his head fall back against the velvet chair, a long, shaky sigh escaping his throat. His fingers tangled lovingly in their hair, gently stroking it instead of pushing them down.
“You’re both so good…” he whispered, his voice overwhelmed with emotion. “This must be what heaven feels like…”
“Only for you, Your Majesty,” Sakura answered, looking up at him with large, adoring eyes as she gently squeezed the base. “We’re yours tonight. All of us.”
Somewhere from the darkness then came Sullyoon, crawling up from behind the velvet chair. Her skin practically glowed under the lights, appearing as pristine and vibrant as a fairy stepping out of a dream. Her hair fell in perfect, silky waves over her shoulders, and her lips held a flawless, rosy tint that completely masked the exhaustion of the night.
The King tilted his head back to look at her, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “You look radiant, Sullyoon-ssi,” he murmured, a genuine sense of awe in his tone. “It’s as if your earlier round never even happened.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I had a lot of time to rest.” Sullyoon smiled sweetly as she presented a single blue pill between her fingertips. “Would you like to extend your pleasure with us?”
He parted his lips without hesitation, allowing her to place it directly onto his tongue with hers.
“I saw there were other colors earlier on another stage,” he said, and swallowed it dry as she delicately traced his jawline with her finger. “Why only the blue one?”
Yoona briefly pulled off his shaft. “The House of Hearts only uses pleasure pills, Your Majesty,” she explained smoothly. “We have no need to artificially manufacture stamina or lust here.”
“It’s the only pill you need,” Sullyoon said with a soft giggle. “Even kisses will feel good. Let me show you.”
The King let out a soft, appreciative exhale as she leaned further over the backrest, her breasts pressing flush against his neck as she tilted his chin up, crashing her mouth against his to swallow his eager groans. Their tongues tangled messily as saliva pooled between their lips.
Beneath them, Sakura and Yoona continued their worship, the wet slurps and suction of their mouths perfectly complementing the sloppy sounds of the kiss above.
The stage seemed to soften around them as Hanni and Eunha gracefully made their way across the floor, moving like royal handmaidens, their bare skin catching the warm light as they came to kneel gently on either side of his velvet chair.
“Master,” Hanni said, her voice light and melodic as they looked up at him with bright, adoring eyes. “Can we kiss you too?”
He breathed softly, breaking his kiss with Sullyoon just long enough to reach out and lovingly cup their cheeks. But as his hand found Eunha’s face, his thumb gently stroked her cheekbone, a sympathetic frown forming on his lips.
“Are you alright, my sweet Eunha?” he whispered, his tone dropping into a cradle of genuine concern. “Those girls were so incredibly cruel to you earlier. You didn’t deserve any of that.”
Eunha melted into his palm, a fragile, beautiful smile blooming on her face. “I’m perfectly fine now, Your Majesty,” she hummed, turning her head just enough to press a warm, grateful kiss against his palm. “You’re so sweet for asking.”
Both girls then leaned in delicately to unbutton his shirt, pressing soft, loving kisses against his chest. Their warm tongues darted out, swirling gently around his nipples with a teasing rhythm as he let his head fall back against Sullyoon’s breasts, completely melting into their tender care.
“Sakura-ssi,” Yoona suggested softly, pulling her tongue off the base of his length. “Why don’t you show him your special skill now?”
Sakura smiled affectionately, gazing up at the King through her eyelashes. “Not a lot of people know about this, Your Majesty,” she whispered, her tone playful and sweet. “Let’s keep it our secret, okay?”
Leaning in, she opened her mouth and swallowed his entire length in one smooth, flawless glide. She buried her face into his lap, her throat flexing as she took him incredibly deep, maintaining a wet, steady rhythm without a single gag. The King gasped, his hips instinctively bucking upward as he felt the tight, warm squeeze of her throat massaging him.
“My god… that’s incredible,” he breathed in awe, his fingers gently caressing her hair as he melted into the velvet chair.
After a few more devastatingly deep plunges, she slowly pulled back with a soft pop, leaving him completely coated in her saliva.
“I’ve been practicing something else lately, too,” she murmured, resting her chin delicately on his thigh. “Is it okay if show you?”
It was like he was completely captivated by her eyes and could only offer a weak, ecstatic nod.
Sakura smiled naughtily and nodded at Hanni and Eunha, who instantly dropped from his chest to gently grab his ankles. With careful elegance, they pulled his legs wide open and hoisted them up over the velvet armrests.
They seamlessly took over his length, burying their faces into his lap to lovingly suck his shaft and head with eager enthusiasm while Sakura ducked lower beneath them. She delicately cupped his balls, pulling them into her mouth and swirling her tongue around the skin before trailing her warm kisses further down.
“O-oh, wow…” he whimpered.
She pushed her face right between his thighs, her tongue diving beautifully into the crease, licking him with an eager, unapologetic passion that made him arch his entire spine off the cushion.
“God—wow—you—”
He let out a breathless groan, tilting his neck up to capture Sullyoon’s soft tits, as if to silence himself. She smiled as he sucked eagerly on her nipple, pulling out a sweet, melodic sigh from her mouth while Hanni and Eunha worked together in absolute harmony, their lips sliding up and down his shaft. Beneath them, Sakura’s tongue continued to push deep, exploring his lower body with an intimate, eager rhythm, making his toes curl into the velvet fabric of the chaise.
“Wait. Please… stop for a moment…”
He gently nudged Sullyoon back just enough to catch his breath, looking down at the tangled, gorgeous arrangement of stunning women worshipping him.
“Let me return the favor,” he breathed, his eyes locked onto Sakura with total adoration. “Please. I want to taste you.”
“Of course, your Majesty,” she replied obediently.
Sakura simply smiled as she pulled back, but before she could move, the King reached down and lifted her directly into his arms in one single motion as if she was weightless. He held her closely, pressing a deep, passionate kiss against her lips, letting out a soft, grateful hum before he gently laid her down onto the dark mat.
Her chest heaved softly, her bare legs spreading wide to expose her glistening entrance to the blinding lights. The King immediately dropped to the floor between her thighs and buried his face entirely in her wetness, groaning into her as he tasted her nectar.
“You’re so perfect, Sakura-ssi,” he murmured against her folds, eagerly slurping as he licked her with the same devotion she had just given him.
But he wasn’t alone.
“Let’s all worship Kkura-sunbaenim today,” Sullyoon whispered softly with a sweet smile. “She looks so pretty like this.”
She gracefully crawled over to Sakura’s sprawling body, with Hanni and Eunha immediately following right behind her. The three of them descended upon her like a gentle wave of love. They kissed her neck, tenderly sucked on her breasts, and ran their hands all over her trembling thighs. Serving their High Ace right alongside the King, their tongues traced the soft skin of her flawless body, mixing their sweet, lovely moans into a single, overwhelming chorus.
The edges of the room melted away again as the drugs pulsed through my veins. Time lost its meaning, the stage blurring into a continuous loop of gleaming skin and pink lips.
When my eyes managed to focus, the King was flat on the mat, entirely surrendered to them. Sakura had shifted her position, maneuvering herself directly over his face. He eagerly lifted his neck to lap at her wetness, slurping with the same hunger as before. On either side of her, Hanni and Eunha crawled in close, their tongues darting out to lick and suck at Sakura’s nipples, pulling soft, airy moans from her throat. Down below, Sullyoon positioned herself between his sprawling legs, taking his entire length deep into her mouth, bobbing her head in a steady, rhythmic worship.
The scene shifted like water changing containers, a fluid, graceful rotation that almost seemed habitual: Sakura, Eunha, and Hanni kneeling between his thighs, two of them dragging their tongues up and down the sides of his shaft while the third licked his balls, pausing only to crash their lips together in a sloppy, tangling three-way kiss as their saliva dripped onto his skin for Sullyoon to then devour along with his cock.
The next time I blinked, the King was standing up, his chest heaving as Sakura dropped to her knees, taking him entirely down her throat with absolutely zero effort. Behind him, Sullyoon knelt with her face between his cheeks, swirling her tongue into him while her melodic moans vibrated into his skin. Above, Eunha pressed her soft body flush against his front, capturing his mouth in a deep, dripping kiss with Hanni kneeling at his side, lapping at his nipples.
Eventually, his legs gave out, and he collapsed flat onto his back against the padded mat. But the girls didn’t let him rest; they took turns climbing over his hips, riding him with intoxicating grace. As Sakura bounced on his lap, leaning back and gasping at the ceiling, Sullyoon straddled his face, spreading her juices over his face and smearing them across his chin. Meanwhile, Eunha and Hanni stole their lips, all four of them worshipping each other just as much as they worshipped him.
The scene changed again. The King laid Sakura on her back, driving into her splashing pussy with slow, passionate thrusts. At his head, Sullyoon and Hanni leaned in to trap his mouth in that same signature three-way kiss, while Eunha positioned herself directly over Sakura’s face, grinding her hips back and forth.
I blinked again, and when my vision cleared, the King had pulled Sakura onto her hands and knees. He thrust into her from behind, the red collar a stark contrast against her flushed, sweat-drenched neck while she arched her spine upward, turning to secure his lips in a messy, eager kiss. Just below them on the dark mat, Sullyoon and Eunha were beautifully tangled together, their legs draped over one another’s shoulders as they buried their faces deeply between each other’s thighs. Beside their tangled bodies, Hanni crawled beneath Sakura’s arched frame, tilting her head up to lovingly latch onto her breasts, pulling and sucking at the soft nipples.
They shifted again and again, their voices melting together into a beautiful, overwhelming song of breathy sobs and cries of pure ecstasy. Sakura crawled forward, burying her face between Sullyoon’s thighs as the King relentlessly pounded into her from behind, every heavy slap of his hips met with a desperate, melodic harmony of moans. Behind him, Eunha parted his cheeks, burying her tongue into his hole with every thrust of his hips, her own muffled squeals of pleasure syncing perfectly with the chaotic rhythm of the stage.
“God—I’m going to—” he cried, his voice tearing raw against the heavy air.
Sakura instantly pulled away from Sullyoon and spun around, dropping to her knees to take him entirely down her throat just as his hips locked.
My skull pounded violently. The borrowed time I had was nearing its end.
The last thing my fading vision registered was Sakura pulling away, thick white liquid dripping from her swollen lips, before passing the load into Sullyoon’s waiting mouth. Hanni and Eunha immediately swarmed them, desperately swapping the cum between the four of them, their voices and giggles overlapping in a chaotic, needy chorus.
“Your Majesty, can you fuck us too?”
“Please, I want to come, too.”
“Me too, pretty please?”
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
“Our next High Ace is a true veteran of the Auction, a diamond that shines brighter than the sun itself,” the Dealer announced, pacing the edge of the spotlight. “A precious gem cut under pressure, honed by years of service. Her discipline is absolute. Her loyalty, unwavering. Her value, beyond dispute. This will be her fifth Blackjack Auction, and believe me when I say—she has only grown more brilliant with time.”
The crowd’s murmurs turned into a low, hungry roar as a tall, breathtaking figure stepped into the light. Tzuyu walked with a cold, untouchable elegance, her red collar catching the harsh beams like shattered glass scattered across her throat.
“Please welcome the High Ace of Diamonds—Tzuyu of Twice!”
The room erupted in a way it never had for the House of Diamonds before, a wave of cheers washing over the stage like a spotlight of sound.
“My dear,” the Dealer purred, stopping beside her and tilting the microphone toward her lips. “Your reputation is a force to be reckoned with in these halls. Your talents remain unchallenged after all these years. Tell me, what do you intend to carve into the memories of our esteemed guests tonight?”
Tzuyu answered without hesitation, her voice smooth and devoid of warmth. “For years, the House of Diamonds has served as the standard that others only hope to mirror,” she answered confidently. “True power stems from accepting that, ultimately, you possess nothing beyond your own desires. Many have tried and failed to relinquish their stubborn pride. Surrender to us, and be rewarded. Submit entirely, and we will serve you until you forget your very name.”
“You heard her, folks!” the Dealer roared, throwing his arms wide as the bidding screen lit up. “Who here dares submit to the House of Diamonds?!”
“Another tie!” a woman shrieked from one of the elevated booths. “They’re matching each other card for card!”
“Thirty-six points each! We haven’t seen a bloodbath like this in years!” the Dealer howled, clutching his microphone as the crowd descended into absolute chaos. VIPs were leaning over their tables, shouting obscenities and placing side bets on who would break first. “But the Auction demands a single victor! We enter Sudden Death Round Two! Show us your hands!”
The hall held its collective breath as the massive screens zeroed in on the final two active tables. At Table Five, the silence was deafening. The guests sat frozen, staring at their hands.
Right next to them, Table Six watched the screen with predatory satisfaction. There was no celebration; they all just smirked as they slid their last card into the slot.
Sudden Death 2:
[Team 5] OUT OF CARDS
[Team 6] 2 + 4 + 2 + 2 = 10 pts
Sudden Death points: 10 (₩100,000,000)
Final points: 202 (₩202,000,000)
“And there you have it!” the Dealer shouted, his voice echoing over the thunderous applause and bitter groans of the defeated. “Team Six secures the magnificent High Ace of Diamonds! A historic victory built on absolute ruthlessness! Show us your face cards!”
Team 6 x Tzuyu:
x3 Ace x2 King ((78+104+80)/2) +40)
(₩3,730,000,000)
“Well, would you look at that,” he snickered, his voice dropping to a diabolical register. “Let us welcome back… the entire House of Diamonds.”
The girls stepped into the spotlight together, moving with a terrifyingly confident grace. Arin and Jiheon fell perfectly into step on either side of Tzuyu, with Xiaoting completing the tight formation right behind them. The four of them stood tall, accompanying their High Ace like a squad of royal guards, their respective diamond collars catching the harsh stage lights.
Then the four Kings from Table Twelve dragged themselves up the steps. The contrast was jarring. They were older, some rather thick around the middle, their expensive suits stretched over sloppy posture. They reeked of dark liquor and entitlement even from where I was. There was no polite bow, no formal greeting.
“Look at this,” the first King sneered, adjusting his mask. “All this money, and they just stand there like statues. You’d think they’d be begging on their knees to suck us off already.”
Xiaoting’s jaw tightened. She took a half-step forward, her chin tilting up in defiance. “Watch your tone. The House of Diamonds never begs.”
He let out a wet, ugly laugh. “You don’t beg? We just dropped three billion won on this table. You’re nothing but high-priced whores wearing shiny jewelry.”
Arin moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Xiaoting. “You bought thirty minutes of our time on stage,” she corrected. “Try to remember you are in a high-class establishment, assuming you even know what class means.”
The third King took an aggressive step forward. “Oh shut up, sweetheart. We paid for your mouth, but not to hear you speak.”
Jiheon let out a sharp, mocking scoff from Xiaoting’s other side. “Then you should have stayed at whatever shady back-alley club you crawled out of. You clearly came to the wrong place.”
The second King scoffed, stepping right in front of her. “Is that right? But we own you for the next thirty minutes, so I think you’ll do exactly what we tell you to do.” He reached out, his thick fingers grabbing her chin roughly.
Jiheon didn’t flinch, but her eyes narrowed with a cold, piercing look of disgust.
Tzuyu stepped between them, smoothly batting the King’s hand away from Jiheon’s face. She didn’t look angry—in fact, she looked utterly, terrifyingly calm.
“Kneel,” she ordered, simply.
The King stared at her, blinking in sheer disbelief before a booming laugh erupted from his chest. “Excuse me? Are you talking to me, you dumb bitch?”
“I said, kneel,” Tzuyu repeated, not raising her voice by a single decibel. “You are standing on our stage. You will show us respect.”
“I think you’ve got this backwards,” the third King said, stepping forward, trying to intimidate her with his height, even though he was barely taller. “You’re the one wearing the collar. You kneel.”
“Diamonds don’t kneel to cheap replicas,” a voice echoed from the back of the stage. “Not now, not ever.”
The Queen of Diamonds hadn’t moved from her throne, but her voice commanded the entire room. It was icy, carrying a heavy, threatening weight that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
The first King turned toward the darkness, a nasty smirk spreading beneath his mask. “Are you sure about that, Your Highness? Because we paid a fortune for this round. And we want it to go exactly as we requested.” He turned to the audience, throwing his arms out as if addressing a coliseum. “We want everyone to dominate the High Ace tonight! We want her treated like the filthy slut she is! We want the other three Aces to use her, just to show the world what true power looks like!”
The room erupted. Men howled and cheered from the darkness, slamming their hands on the tables, feeding into their insane demands.
“Absolutely not,” the Queen replied, her voice snapping like a whip. “You do not get to treat any of my girls like a common whore. You will follow our rules, or the round is over before it begins.”
“Is that so?” the second King challenged, crossing his arms. He looked past the stage, directly toward the throne hidden in the shadows. “Hey, King of Diamonds! Are you going to let your Queen ruin the show we paid for? Is this what your House stands for? Defiance? Mistreatment of your guests? We are the Kings tonight!”
The entire ballroom held its breath, waiting for his reponse.
After a moment, a deep, distorted voice finally crackled through the curtains, “Let’s see how it plays out.”
The Queen surged to her feet, the heavy scrape of her heels against the stage floor cut through the dead silence.
“No. I will not allow this.”
“They paid for the table, my Queen,” the King’s voice droned back, casually dismissing her authority in front of thousands of spectators. “Our House honors its highest bids.”
“Not this one.” She marched down the steps, her steps clicking like gunshots. “If you allow these pathetic, unwashed pigs to lay a single hand on my Aces, I will toss this crown into the fire.”
My chest tightened until it physically hurt. The air in the room suddenly felt impossibly heavy, suffocating me. Like the entire room was standing on a landmine.
The four Kings at the front just smirked, feeding off the chaos. “Look at her,” the first King mocked, adjusting his belt. “Thinking she actually has a say in what we bought.”
Before the Queen could retaliate, Tzuyu moved.
She stepped perfectly into the center of the spotlight; her gorgeous silhouette blocked the harsh glare, casting her in a flawless, untouchable light. Even surrounded by wolves, she looked completely at peace.
“My Queen,” she said serenely. “It’ll be okay.”
The Queen stopped, her shoulders visibly tense, rising and falling under the expensive red fabric of her gown. “Chou Tzuyu, step down. I will not let them—”
“You taught us what is to be a diamond,” Tzuyu interrupted, her tone still soft but absolute. “From the very first day they fastened that pink collar around my neck, it was you who shaped me. It was you who built the women standing here today.”
She reached up, her long fingers brushing the heavy jewels of her collar. “You taught us that Diamonds are never afraid. That we are resilient. That we don’t break under pressure. That we are forged by it.”
Tzuyu slowly turned her head back to the four men panting at the edge of the stage. Her expression was somehow completely empty—an insanely beautiful, but absolutely terrifying void.
“I know men exactly like you,” she said, her voice so cold it could freeze the air in the room. “You buy your way through life and think your riches make you gods. You think money equals power. But you don’t fit into this world at all. You just rent space in it.”
“Sunbaenim, please don’t do this,” Jiheon pleaded from behind her. “Don’t let them break you.”
“Let them try,” Tzuyu stated perfectly, her voice echoing through the silent ballroom. “There’s not enough money in this world to make us shatter.”
The Dealer finally stepped out from the shadows, a thin, amused smile playing on his lips. “My my my,” he murmured, offering her a slow, solitary clap. “Truly—I’m moved. High Aces are all just rebels at heart, aren’t they? Folks, this will be one hell of a performance, that’s for sure.”
“I accept their request,” Tzuyu said firmly, turning to face him.
The audience ate it up. Someone screamed her name like it was a bet. Someone else shouted something obscene, and the people around them howled, slapping the table hard enough to rattle glasses.
“You heard her folks, let the performance… begin!”
Behind the curtain line where the light couldn’t reach, something heavy hit the floor—a sound like gold against hardwood, an unmistakable clink followed by the sound of something rolling until it faded into nothingness.
“Your speech was both insulting and touching at the same time,” the first King said, grabbing Tzuyu by the shoulders and violently shoving her to the padded mat. “On your hands and knees. Now.”
Tzuyu hit the floor hard, but she caught herself, pushing up into a steady position on all fours. Her face remained perfectly composed, but the sudden submission sent a shockwave of sick excitement through the men.
The Kings laughed like they’d just won something.
“Look at her,” the second King taunted, already undoing his belt. “The famous Rim Queen. We saw your earlier rounds, you Diamonds are so proud of making everyone else fall apart. Let’s see how you handle it when it’s your turn.”
He stepped in close behind her, his hands clamping onto her hips. Tzuyu’s fingers curled against the mat, but she didn’t pull away.
“This is what you want, isn’t it, High Ace?” he sneered, leaning down, his mask almost brushing her ear. “You said it yourself. Let them try.”
“That’s right, I agreed to the round,” Tzuyu said, her voice still hauntingly steady. “Not because you own me. Because Diamonds don’t run.”
“But do they fold?” one of them asked, causing the others to erupt in a chorus of mocking whistles.
The Kings moved in, circling her—one at her side, one near her shoulders, one hovering at her hip—as if they were cornering her even though she wasn’t actually trying to escape. Their hands landed all over her body, gripping just a little too tight, like they were trying to test her limits.
“Listen to her,” one of them laughed, fingers brushing her thighs. “Our brave little Diamond. Moaning like a good girl for her audience.”
“I’m not moaning,” she muttered, though her breath was hitching now.
“So tough,” he mocked, dragging his palm slowly up the back of her leg before smacking her outer thigh. The sound cracked through the room; a bright pink imprint immediately bloomed on her skin. “But you secretly love this, don’t you? The whole room watching you on all fours, showing a side of you no one’s ever seen before.”
He continued spanking her, and Tzuyu’s back arched, her shoulders rolling as the sensations hit one by one. A sound finally left her; a breathy, undeniable moan that caused the crowd to react instantly. A wave of feral noise crashed over the stage—cheers, whistles, disgusting chants I couldn’t even pick apart.
“Show your hoobaes who you really are,” the King growled, spreading her legs apart to admire the view.
Without warning, he buried his face directly into her cheeks. Tzuyu gasped, her spine snapping into a sharp curve as his tongue dove deep into her. The other three Kings swarmed her, grabbing her hips and thighs to hold her in place as they took turns taking vicious, sloppy laps at her hole.
“What’s this? You’re howling,” they taunted between wet slurps, hands cracking against her other thigh. “You love it, don’t you? You love getting eaten out like a dog.”
Tzuyu didn’t respond with words. Instead, another loud, broken moan escaped her lips, echoing through the speakers like a confession of her body’s betrayal.
“Get the others over here,” the first King barked. “We paid for them, too.”
Arin and Xiaoting crept forward like they were walking through a dream, their eyes glazed and heavy, their movements fluid but detached from reality. Their cheeks were flushed a deep, bruised pink, and as they stood over the sight of Tzuyu, their thighs pressed together in a restless, unconscious rhythm.
But as Jiheon tried to follow, two other Kings intercepted her, catching her by the wrists.
“Not you,” one of them sneered, his gaze crawling over her with a bitter hunger that made my stomach turn. “We want you all to ourselves, brat. You deserve to be punished for what you did to our Europrean friends earlier.”
They pulled her toward the other side of the stage, leaving Arin and Xiaoting alone in front of Tzuyu’s exposed, trembling body displayed on all fours.
“Use these on her,” a King commanded, his voice dripping with a sick glee as he dropped two silicone vibrating dildos onto the mat. “Make her take every inch.”
Arin’s fingers trembled as she reached down to wrap her hand around the toy. “There’s no way we can do this to her,” she murmured. “She’s our sunbae.”
“Do it,” Tzuyu whispered from the floor, her eyes glassy, empty, but perfectly confident. “Diamonds don’t shatter, Arin-ah.”
The hesitation didn’t break all at once; it melted slowly, like glass under a flame. Arin stared down at the thick silicone in her small hand buzzing loudly as she flipped the switch. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths.
“Diamonds don’t shatter,” she repeated to herself, swallowing hard.
Her eyes darted from the toy to Tzuyu’s exposed, glistening folds, and a dark flush crept up her neck. It was as if the sheer taboo of it, the unthinkable act of degrading her own High Ace, seemed to seep into her bloodstream like a drug—or worse, a curse: the curse of being in the House of Diamonds. The lust for power, no matter who it was over.
“Sunbaenim… Did you know… your pussy is so pretty…” Arin whispered, stepping closer, her thighs practically glued together.
She aligned the blunt tip against Tzuyu’s entrance, her lips parting as she watched the silicone slide past the wet folds. “I’ve… always wanted to play with it.”
Tzuyu’s back arched, a soft, strangled sound catching in her throat as Arin pushed deeper. “It’s so big…”
“It’s not that big, you’re just really tight…” Arin’s grip tightened; a dark, intoxicating curiosity flooded her face, quickly replaced by a heavy, undeniable lust. She began to pump the toy, her movements finding a slow, merciless rhythm.
“You’re already so wet,” she murmured, rubbing her own clit with her other hand. “You’re swallowing the toy whole.”
“A-Arin—not so fast,” Tzuyu moaned, lowering her head.
“You control it then, sunbae…” Arin suddenly pulled Tzuyu’s body upright, forcing her to ride the thick, plastic shaft while the Kings watched in sick fascination.
“The Queen left us,” Xiaoting said, dropping to her knees. The cold perfection she usually carried was completely gone, replaced by a feverish hunger. “Only you can teach us now. Show us how to ride a cock, sunbae, just like the old days.”
She hovered over Tzuyu’s trembling body for just a second, her breath brushing over her bare skin, then buried her face right between her jiggling cheeks. Tzuyu was already slowly bouncing on the thick dildo, her knees spread wide as she pushed herself down on it with loud, messy slaps.
“Look at you taking the whole thing like a pro,” Arin teased, leaning in closer. “Tell Pink to use her tongue, sunbae.”
“Xiaoting-ah, please...” Tzuyu whined, her thighs shaking as she forced the toy deeper into her dripping pussy. “L-lick me.”
Xiaoting didn’t answer; her tongue darted out, swirling against Tzuyu’s other hole with a wet, careful slurp that made her shriek, her back arching hard enough to completely throw off her rhythm.
“Keep going,” Xiaoting mumbled against her flesh, letting out a muffled moan of her own right before pressing the other vibrator directly over her clit.
Tzuyu choked on a sharp gasp, her hips stuttering as the vibration sent what seemed like pure shock through her body. “Oh my god, wait—both at once is too much—”
“Don’t stop riding it,” Arin ordered, a dirty smile crossing her face as she watched the mess unfold. “Keep bouncing. Show us what a good little slut you are, sunbae.”
“Listen to her,” Xiaoting agreed, her lips wet with Tzuyu’s taste. “Take it all, sunbae. We want to learn from you.”
Xiaoting’s hands gripped Tzuyu’s hips tightly, locking her in place so she couldn’t squirm away from the intense buzzing. She pulled Tzuyu’s ass deeper into her mouth as if she were starving for the taste of her submission, relentlessly eating her out while Tzuyu sobbed, hopelessly grinding her soaked pussy against the dildo to follow their commands.
A King stepped directly in front of Tzuyu’s face, his hardened cock twitching with excitement. She didn’t even wait for an order—she opened wide, her lips stretching to engulf his thick cock, sucking him with a submissive need. The stage lights caught the violent shimmer of the diamonds around their necks as her own Aces thoroughly dismantled her dignity.
Off to the side, Jiheon was getting absolutely dominated, but for some reason, she appeared to be loving every second of it. The two Kings had flipped her completely upside down, one of them shoved his cock entirely down her throat while she dangled by her ankles, and the other hammered his shaft deep into her soaking pussy. But instead of fighting it, she was practically vibrating—her eyes were wide, taking in the harsh treatment like the sheer humiliation was unlocking some sick, submissive side of her she never knew existed.
Even while gagging around a thick dick, her gaze kept darting over to the other girls. She watched Tzuyu sobbing and bouncing on the dildo while Xiaoting pleasured her, and the sight of it seemed to make Jiheon’s own juices pour down the King’s cock, like she was getting off just from watching her High Ace get used.
“You’re so fucking tight,” one of the Kings said, delighted. “What an incredible pussy.”
“You’re not even good at sex,” she taunted, a dark smile invading her lips. “Just hurry up and come so I can join the real show.”
“What the fuck did you say?” he growled, grabbing her throat.
She just laughed, eyes slightly rolling. “I said you’re terrible at fucking,” she repeated, despite him picking up the speed. “Even Arin unnie fucks me better with a strap-on than this.”
The Kings dragged her up to her feet, twisting her arms behind her back to lock her in place. One of them fucked her relentlessly from behind, his hands grabbing her hips to pull her into every brutal thrust, while the other grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth open to spear her throat with zero mercy.
When he finally pulled out of her mouth so she could breathe, Jiheon let out a loud, wet gasp. Drool hung from her swollen lips, but she immediately nodded toward the other stage.
“Just let me go over there,” she whimpered, her legs shaking as the King behind her kept pounding her bare ass. “I want them to use me, too. Please, let me join them.”
The King holding her arms scoffed. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look up at him.
“You’re not going anywhere, slut,” he growled, slapping his wet cock lightly against her cheek. “We’re nowhere near done with you yet. Open your fucking whore mouth.”
Tzuyu completely embraced the degradation, transforming into a hyper-submissive mess before my very eyes. She crawled over to the first King, eagerly sucking his bare toes, worshipping his feet before moving up to part his cheeks with her own hands.
“Let me demonstrate my famous talent on you,” she pleaded, licking him submissively, her tongue swirling deep in his hole while another King grabbed her hips and pounded her from behind.
Once again, the drugs in my system made the timeline blur, chopping the performance into visceral, overlapping scenes of absolutely sinful debauchery, where it quickly became unclear which side was in control.
In one blink, a King was flat on his back with his legs hoisted into the air with Tzuyu between his legs, her tongue diving deep into his ass while Arin eagerly sucked his cock. Above, Xiaoting squatted directly over his face, grinding her dripping wetness into his mouth.
“Lick me properly, King,” Xiaoting commanded breathlessly. “Taste every last drop. This is what you paid for.”
“F-fuck—” he cried, voice muffled and thighs trembling from the overloaded pleasure. “This feels too damn good!”
The lights flashed, and the formation shifted. Tzuyu bounced wildly on his lap, taking his full length while desperately stuffing two other cocks into her mouth. Right above her, Xiaoting rode his face, leaning forward to make out with Arin.
“Look at her choking,” one of the men laughed, grabbing Tzuyu by her neck, holding her in place. “She’s good with her mouth, but not her throat, I guess.”
In the next fractured second, my brain caught Jiheon getting tossed between her two Kings like a human doll. One of them had her by the hips, relentlessly pounding her from behind while the other grabbed her hair, aggressively shoving his dick in and out of her mouth. She wasn’t even trying to keep up anymore. She was completely losing her mind, her eyes rolled all the way back into her head with her tongue hanging out in a sloppy, drooling mess. She laughed like an absolute maniac around the thick cock, looking like a broken, brainless toy getting off on being entirely used up.
“You dumb slut,” the King behind her growled, the harsh smacks of his hips syncing with her muffled, delirious giggles. “Is everything a joke to you?”
“You’re so pathetic,” she squealed. “I don’t know why I’m coming so much for such a fucking loser though—aghh!”
Then, the stage rearranged again. A King was fucking Xiaoting hard from behind, her small body jerking forward as she sucked another cock on the opposite end. Tzuyu and Arin swarmed the one fucking her, making out with him while plunging their wet fingers into his ass.
“Deeper,” Arin ordered, her voice completely slurred with lust as she guided Tzuyu’s hand. “Fuck his tight little hole with your fingers, sunbae.”
My head spun as another King sat like a tyrant in the plush velvet chair. Tzuyu and Xiaoting were on their knees, sharing his thick cock, their mouths slurping together.
“Suck it together, you greedy sluts,” he groaned, his hands shoving their heads down.
Right behind Tzuyu, someone was eagerly slurping her backside while Arin straddled another man’s face a few feet away. Jiheon was now part of the main show, leaning over the back of the plush chair, making out with the seated King from above, completely helpless as a fourth King aggressively fingered her spot.
“Fuck, you’re making such a mess,” he laughed, burying his fingers deeper into her dripping cunt until her juices gushed out and splattered onto the floor.
The flashes of skin and sweat just kept coming. A King stood tall in the center of the stage. Arin captured his lips in a filthy kiss, Tzuyu bobbed her head on his shaft, Xiaoting sloppily licked his balls, and Jiheon crouched behind his legs to bury her face between his thighs.
“Sunbaenim, with respect, I think you could use some dick-sucking pointers from Jiheon,” Arin suggested against the King’s lips. “And maybe you can teach her how to properly do whatever the hell she thinks that is.”
As soon as he moaned in pleasure, Arin and Xiaoting pulled away to immediately apply the exact same treatment to another standing King.
“You and I are a better duo, aren’t we?” Xiaoting purred, her chin covered in spit.
“I’d say so,” Arin said, smirking. “Open up, Your Majesty.”
The final image burned into my retinas before the scene dissolved. Jiheon sat backward on a King’s face, completely smothering him under her jiggling ass.
“Come on, fuckface,” Jiheon taunted, grinding her hips down hard over his nose. “If you can’t fuck me properly, at least make out with both of my holes to compensate.”
Arin and Xiaoting surrounded her, violently making out with each other while getting fucked from behind by two other men.
“You’re so fucking pretty when you’re getting fucked like this,” Arin moaned directly into Xiaoting’s mouth as their wet lips crashed together. “Take it all like a good girl. Make our House proud, Pink.”
And right in the middle of the mess, Tzuyu rode the face-smothered King’s cock in a chaotic rhythm, bouncing to the sloppy rhythm of the entire stage. “My god, it’s so deep!” she shrieked, her thighs slapping wildly against his pelvis. “I’ve never had a dick this big before, I’m gonna co—”
The drugs hammered my brain, splicing the final moments into a frantic, dizzying montage of absolute surrender from both sides. The hesitation was entirely gone. Every single one of them was addicted to the power, the degradation, and the animalistic pace of the Kings.
The stage and the power shifted back and forth, over and over. All four Aces were lined up on their knees in perfect symmetry, each one deeply swallowing a thick cock as their heads bobbed in unison, their eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy, completely lost to the sensation of being utterly filled.
“Look at this,” one of the Kings growled, his hands tangled in Jiheon’s hair to hold her steady as she sucked him. “Everyone thinks the House of Diamonds is so classy and elegant. But underneath all that expensive jewelry, you’re really just a bunch of repressed cocksluts, aren’t you? You all just needed to be broken in properly and the truth comes out.”
A sharp whistle echoed from the audience, and the Kings roughly yanked them around. They slammed all four Aces onto their hands and knees, lining up their exposed asses in a row, driving into them from behind in an aggressive, synchronized pace. The wet, slapping sounds of skin colliding echoed through the night, pulling loud, breathy moans from the girls as they arched their backs to take it deeper.
“Fuck, you’re all so nice and tight,” another King panted, his hips snapping forward to bury himself in Tzuyu’s cunt. “Beg for it. Tell everyone what you actually are.”
“We’re your sluts, Your Majesty—” Xiaoting sobbed, face planted into her arms. “We’re no different from common cheap whores.”
Without pausing, the Kings grabbed their hips and forcefully pulled them backward. The four Aces seamlessly transitioned into riding them from above, bouncing wildly on the thick shafts, their rainbow assortment of diamond collars glinting under the harsh lights as they threw their heads back, completely surrendering to the brutal pace.
“I wonder what your Queen would say if she could see you right now,” a King laughed, grabbing Arin’s waist to force her down harder. “Would she be proud of how hard you’re bouncing on my dick? Taking it like a cheap street hooker?”
“She would be so ashamed of us,” Arin cried, her tits bouncing in sync with the other girls’. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty, we’re all embarrassments to the House of Diamonds.”
The formation dissolved one last time. They were flipped onto their backs, their long slender legs hooked over the broad shoulders of the Kings. The men pounded into them mercilessly as the girls were pressed shoulder-to-shoulder on the mat. In the middle of being completely destroyed, Tzuyu reached out, grabbing Xiaoting’s jaw to pull her into a desperate, messy kiss, and beside them, Arin and Jiheon tangled their tongues together, sharing their moans while the men relentlessly filled them.
“There you go,” a King commanded Jiheon, driving his cock deep into her soaking pussy. “Taste how much of a whore your sisters are.”
The scenes blurred into chaotic, isolated flashes. I caught a glimpse of Tzuyu riding a King hard in cowgirl, her mouth completely occupied by another thick cock. Across the stage, Xiaoting was pinned against an invisible wall of flesh, getting absolutely ravaged by two Kings while standing on her tiptoes. Nearby, Jiheon lay flat on the mat, her legs spread wide for a King plunging into her tight hole, while Arin squatted directly over her mouth, aggressively grinding her dripping cunt against Jiheon’s lips.
The roaring of the crowd reached a deafening pitch. One by one, the men yanked out of the girls’ drenched, sloppy, overused holes. They stood over the trembling, exhausted Aces, their hands working furiously over their shafts.
“Open up!” they commanded.
Thick, hot spurts of cum splattered across Tzuyu’s cheeks, coated Xiaoting’s lips, and painted Jiheon and Arin’s chests. The men emptied themselves entirely, leaving the girls completely covered in their disgusting lust.
The girls crawled toward each other like magnetic puzzle pieces. With the crowd screaming above them, Tzuyu, Xiaoting, Jiheon, and Arin collapsed together, eagerly licking the hot loads smeared across each other’s lips, cheeks, and chests. High-pitched, euphoric moans spilled from their lips, echoing through the massive ballroom as they swapped the thick, sticky mess from mouth to mouth, their tongues tangling wildly in aggressive, breathless kisses as they clambered over one another’s bare bodies. Loud, wet slaps of flesh and ragged gasps filled the air as they continued grinding their soaking folds together to extend their own pleasure, desperately chasing the high right there under the spotlight. They were entirely lost to the chaos, thrashing against each other until all four of them were covered in the exact same, undeniable proof of their betrayal and submission.
The House of Diamonds had fallen. And they had loved every single second of it.
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
“Although we are but one round from the finale, the night is far from over!” the Dealer’s voice vibrated through the speakers, dragging me back from the edge of unconsciousness just enough to register his words. “We have witnessed the absolute devotion of the House of Hearts! We have witnessed the terrifying display of power in the House of Diamonds! But now, it is time to shift our focus to a different kind of perfection.”
The giant screens above flickered, and the bleeding red diamond dissolved into a stark black club.
“Our next High Ace is famous even within these halls,” the Dealer announced. “Her history in this Society is as legendary as they get. You see, before she became the undisputed face of the House of Clubs, she belonged to a different throne entirely.”
The crowd began to murmur, a low, buzzing anticipation that vibrated against the floorboards as my cheek pressed flat against the padded mat below me.
“That’s right! She was once the prized possession of the House of Spades,” the Dealer continued, drawing out the suspense. “The High Ace who reigned supreme, long before our lovely Karina ever wore the black collar. But in an unprecedented, historic trade, her position was forfeited for the beloved Jang Wonyoung herself!”
The applause that followed was deafening—a chaotic, hungry roar that rattled the bones in my chest.
“A true icon! A goddess of pleasure! Ladies and gentlemen! For the eighth consecutive year, please welcome the one and only High Ace of Clubs… Jennie of BLACKPINK!”
I forced my eyes open, just a fraction. Through the hazy, shifting lights, a slender silhouette stepped into the harsh white spotlight. She moved with a rather charming arrogance, seemingly unfazed by the animalistic frenzy she had just incited. Even through the fog drowning my brain, I could feel the suffocating weight of the lust in the room fixated entirely on her.
The Dealer stood silently for a moment, letting the weight of Jennie’s presence settle over the room. She didn’t even twitch; she just stood there with the black velvet collar snugly wrapped around her neck, breathing steadily and evenly as the wolves began to descend on her.
Finally, the Dealer raised a hand, his voice dropping into that low, thrilling whisper. “My dear, you are the last performance before our grand finale tonight. The audience is absolutely rabid for you. Do you have any words before we begin?”
Jennie tilted her chin up just a fraction. A small, chilling smirk pulled at the corner of her lips. “I don’t need to say anything. They already know what they’re paying for. I’ve proven it year after year that I am the entire package and more.”
The crowd lost its collective mind. Men slammed their fists against the tables, howling, while women chanted her name like a prayer.
“Then let the bidding begin!” the Dealer roared, his voice distorting in my ears like it was being played through a broken speaker. “Thirty seconds to claim the undisputed Goddess of Pleasure!”
“It’s decided!” the Dealer shrieked, the sound piercing through my splitting headache. “Table Four claims the High Ace of Clubs! Tell me, gentlemen, how will you build your court? Will you summon the rest of her House as well?”
“Wait,” Jennie cut in, her voice smooth and authoritative.
“Yes, my dear?”
Her chin tilted toward the darkness where Team 4 sat. “Don’t play any aces,” she ordered. “My girls have been through enough tonight. Let them rest.”
Discourse rippled through the audience, but Jennie simply smirked at the impending chaos.
“Besides,” she purred, tracing a slow finger down her own collarbone. “This is my stage. I don’t share the spotlight with anyone. You emptied your wallets for me, so I expect all of your eyes strictly on me and me only.”
The men at Table Four immediately barked like actual dogs, practically foaming at the mouth in agreement.
“No Aces!” one of them shouted over the noise. “Just Kings and Jacks! All for Goddess Jennie!”
The giant screen flashed above, calculating the final math.
Team 4 x Jennie:
x4 Jack x2 King (+120)
(₩3,580,000,000)
My eyelids fluttered as the stage fast-forwarded and transformed like a glitched video. They didn’t waste any time—six men, two Kings in tailored suits and four naked, tall, muscular American Jacks, surrounded Jennie, immediately boxing her in.
“You really wanted all of us to yourself, didn’t you?” a younger Korean-American King murmured, his hands immediately finding her tits.
“I remember you,” Jennie whispered back, her blindfolded face tilting up to capture his lips in a deep, controlling kiss. “Don’t disappoint me this year.”
While their tongues tangled, a Jack stepped up behind her. “Goddamn, baby, you are as gorgeous as ever,” he muttered, his large hands trailing down her small waist to grab a handful of her ass. “It’s been too damn long.”
She let out a soft sigh as he squeezed her flesh possessively. “You missed me, didn’t you?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.
“I miss your tasty pussy,” he corrected, giving her cheeks a loud smack. “But you? Well, I’m still debating that one.”
She smirked just before her lips parted again. “Asshole.”
“Oh yeah—I definitely missed your tight little asshole, too.”
He let one hand slide down the curve of her back and slipped right between her thighs. Jennie gasped into the King’s mouth as the Jack drove two thick fingers into her.
“Look at you,” the Jack laughed quietly, pumping in and out of her with a familiar, practiced rhythm that instantly made her knees wobble. “Already so wet. You love being surrounded by all these big dicks, huh?”
“Just like old times.” Another Jack moved in next to her, running his tongue along her ear. “We know exactly how you like it, Jennie.” He reached down to join the first Jack, pressing his thumb firmly against her clit while the other kept playing with her wet folds. “Hard, fast, and rough. Isn’t that right?”
Jennie let out an airy moan, arching her back directly into his chest. “Fuck... right there,” she chirped, practically handing herself over to the men who clearly knew her body inside and out.
“Come on, babe, let’s get you ready for a proper fucking now.”
They swarmed her entirely after that. The King broke the kiss only to suck on her tits, biting down just hard enough to make her whine. Another King dropped to his knees, burying his face directly over her crotch, his tongue swirling greedily against her small clit.
“God, you even taste like a whore,” he snickered, smacking his lips. “You dirty little slut.”
Her hands didn’t stay still; she reached out blindly, her fingers wrapping around the throbbing lengths beside her, stroking them firmly and carefully like they were trophies.
“I’m your favorite little slut,” she panted. “Now give me all your cocks. They’re all mine.”
“Come on, let’s get her up,” the tallest Jack commanded.
They grabbed her by the thighs, hoisting her entirely off the mat, and Jennie let out a loud gasp as she was suspended in the air.
“Open up for us, baby,” one of them purred, stepping right between her dangling legs.
He buried his face into her soaked entrance, lapping fervently at her dripping juices.
“Oh, fuck—yes, right there, just like that—” she moaned, her head falling back. “Fuck—I forgot how good you are.”
Another Jack stepped right behind her elevated body, his tongue diving in to lick her other hole with a sloppy enthusiasm.
“Fuck,” she gasped as they devoured her from both sides, their loud slurping echoing through the massive hall. “Keep going—don’t stop—”
They didn’t stop. If anything, they just dug in harder. She threw her head back, her thighs thrashing uncontrollably while they dove into her holes, soaking her with spit and devouring her so relentlessly she was borderline sobbing.
“Turn her over,” someone ordered. “Let’s see what her mouth can do nowadays.”
They flipped her completely upside down, draping her legs securely over their broad shoulders.
“Remind us, Jennie,” a Jack demanded, guiding his cock past her lips. “Word on the street is that the new High Spades is better at sucking dick than you.”
“Jang Wonyoung? She fucking wishes. I’ll believe it when I see it with my own eyes,” Jennie snarled, then took him in effortlessly, sucking him deep while hanging upside down.
Her blindfold slipped right off her face as her loud moans vibrated against his shaft. His lips crashed onto her clit, while the man behind her continued to bury his tongue between her cheeks.
My vision swam, the harsh white lights dragging into long, dizzying streaks as the men shifted her again. They passed her around like a ball, flipping her right-side up into the waiting arms of another King. He caught her waist and immediately dove into her qrenched cunt. Jennie adjusted flawlessly to the new position as if she was thoroughly familiar with it, leaning her upper body forward to swirl her tongue thoroughly around the large balls of the one holding her up.
Before I could even process what was happening, the Jack holding her fell flat onto his back, dragging her down on top of him so she was straddling his face upside down with her thighs locked around his head.
Jennie let out a loud, muffled whine, her mouth hovering right over his giant length as he went straight back to devouring her pussy.
“Don’t just look at it,” another Jack barked, stepping in close so his cock brushed against her cheek. “Open up.”
Her lips were wrapped around the bottom Jack’s head, but the other didn’t wait his turn—he simply shoved his own cock in right next to it, forcing her to let the first one slide out, just enough to drag her wet lips over the other, constantly swapping her mouth back and forth between them.
Beneath her, the bottom Jack reached up and spread her cheeks wide open, putting her on full display under the harsh lights for everyone to see.
“Look at this perfect little thing,” he mumbled, his voice vibrating right against her soaking folds and puckering asshole. “God, it’s so fucking cute. You’d never guess it could take such a pounding.”
A third guy stepped up behind her without saying a word, poured a bottle of lube over her ass. He immediately used two fingers to massage the dripping liquid in, pushing deep inside her tight hole while she whined around the large cocks.
Within seconds, everything was a blur of hands working her over; fingers slid deep into her ass right as more pushed up into her pussy, stretching her out completely. A loud, desperate whine escaped through her nose, her head bobbing relentlessly over the two cocks while they aggressively worked both of her holes from below.
“Good girl. Now get on your knees.”
They finally set her down. Jennie knelt on the mat, breathing heavily, eyes barely functional as three men crowded her face. She opened her mouth and took one cock deep down her throat, while her hands reached out to grab the other two.
“More… I want more cocks…” She moved in a continuous, mesmerizing circle, sucking one while stroking the others, rotating her attention so fluidly that no one was left waiting for her touch.
A King dropped onto his back beneath her. “Sit on me, baby,” he commanded, lifting her leg over his body. “Let me taste that nasty pussy of yours.”
She hovered over his face and chin without a word, grinding her overflowing wetness all over his skin, smearing her juices across his jaw while she kept her head bobbing on the cocks in front of her.
The men groaned in a chaotic chorus, fully intoxicated by her rhythm, clearly using her for their own pleasure—but somehow, it seemed like she was the one being rewarded.
“Now down on the floor,” a Jack commanded, grabbing her shoulders to pull her flat onto her back.
They swarmed her small body, effectively trapping her in a cage of muscle and sweat. One of them immediately shoved his face back between her thighs, while two more pressed their shafts against her lips. She opened wide, continuously sucking them with wet, greedy slurps, and the remaining men held her tightly, their hands kneading her small breasts, squeezing her thighs, leaving absolutely no part of her untouched.
“Look at how she takes it,” a Jack snickered. “You’re so fucking tiny, but you swallow us all.”
“Mine,” Jennie hummed around the cocks in her mouth, her face now slick with a collection of all their pre-cum, and her back arching eagerly into their possessive grips. “You’re all mine. You all belong to me.”
The edges of the room melted away again for a moment, and when my eyes refocused, they had hauled her back up onto her hands and knees. A King knelt behind her, burying his face into her ass, his tongue diving deep while she diligently sucked the Jacks standing in front of her. The sound of wet skin, heavy breathing, and shared saliva somehow overpowered all the hollers and cheers from the crowd.
Suddenly, one of the Kings stepped up behind her and gripped her hips with a crushing force, pulling her flush against his thighs.
“I can’t wait anymore,” he growled, lining himself up with her dripping slit. “I need to be inside you right fucking now.”
Without another warning, he thrust his hips forward, slamming himself completely inside her as Jennie threw her head back from the impact.
“Mmph!” she squealed.
He didn’t hold back. His hips snapped against her ass with loud, wet slaps. She moaned loudly, but the sound was quickly swallowed as a Jack shoved his thick cock directly into her mouth.
“Didn’t you say you wanted more dicks?” he taunted, shoving it all the way into her throat as she looked up at him with glossy eyes.
They took turns filling her up thoroughly. At some point, one of them grabbed her by the hips and yanked her backward, forcing her to straddle his lap. She rode him ruthlessly, bouncing hard on his length while her tongue kept furiously working the endless supply of cocks before her.
“Are you sure we belong to you?” the King beneath her ordered, his large hand wrapping firmly around her throat. “Or do you belong to us?”
He lifted her slightly by the neck, choking off her moans as he drove his hips upward, pounding deep into her pussy from below.
“I’m yours,” she whimpered, her juices splashing everywhere with every thrust. “I was wrong. I belong to you all. I was born to take your cocks.”
They laughed collectively. “Wow, it’s really true what they all say. Once a Spade, always a Spade?”
Two Jacks suddenly yanked her body upward, lifting her into their arms with her legs pinned to her shoulders, leaving her folds fully exposed and visibly dripping.
“Come on Jennie, say it proudly so everyone in the audience can hear,” one said, driving his fingers violently inside her, hooking upward to grind rough and hard against her spot.
“I’m just an overpriced sextoy,” she cried out to the men surrounding her, breaking apart while her hips desperately chased his rough fingers. “I’m simply a hole for you. All of you. Please use me well.”
“You have three of them,” a Jack corrected her, his voice cutting through the laughter. “And we intend to use every single one.”
“Yes, Master.” Her eyes rolled back until there was only a storm of white. “Use any and every hole to your liking.”
His fingers worked harder and faster, until she let out a wild, high-pitched noise as a stream started gushing out of her, drenching his hand while she thrashed against his grip.
“God, what a filthy bitch,” he laughed, shaking the liquid off himself. “I forgot she’s a squirter.”
Her body was still trembling when the King pulled her right on top of his lap, forcing her to straddle him. She sank down onto his cock, filling her drenched pussy to the base again, but her backside was completely exposed and totally defenseless as she rode him—which was exactly what the Jack was waiting for.
He walked right up behind her, and before she could even brace herself, he shoved his thick cock straight inside with little to no resistance. Jennie’s eyes widened, her spine snapping backward as her walls opened and wrapped tightly around his shaft. A collection of lust juices dripped down her thighs as the two of them started fucking her at the exact same time, pounding into her with an unsynchronized, messy rhythm that made her entire frame shake.
“Oh my god…” she cried, her voice as broken as her mind. “You’re filling me up… your humongous cocks… stretching my ass and my pussy out at the same time… I’m gonna break—”
“You’re already broken, whore,” a third Jack interrupted, walking right up to her face. He grabbed her by the chin and buried his hard cock straight over her tongue.
Her wild moans instantly turned into choked, sloppy sucking sounds. He just stood there using her throat, silencing her while the King and the other Jack continued stretching her holes together; the loud smacking of their hips hitting her thighs echoed through the room, perfectly matching the wet noises of her gagging on his cock.
When my eyes dragged themselves open again, the formation had mutated. They had flipped her onto her back; the King and Jack now ravaging her from below, lifting her slender legs over their broad shoulders as they hammered into both of her holes at the same time. Even fully stuffed, Jennie reached up to her own neck, wrapping her fingers around her throat as she choked herself.
“I’m such a bad girl…” she muttered, saliva leaking from her mouth as they all pumped mercilessly. “Bad girls deserve to be punished…”
The cock in her ass finally pulled out, and the King grabbed her waist and hoisted her into the air, using his own body as the only thing keeping her anchored. Two Jacks grabbed hers arms, pulling them wide, holding her suspended and helpless while a third fucked her in mid-air, his upward thrusts violently shaking her small frame while she moaned loudly for the entire room to hear.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god—” she cried, eyes rolling back as another hot rush spilled out like a geyser, trailing down his stomach and thighs as she let out a strangled scream, squirting helplessly while they held her wide open.
By the time I could focus again, they had thrown her back down onto the padded mat and pulled her hips high into the air, presenting her soaked, gaping holes to the audience. A Jack stood over her and drove straight down into her pussy with brutal force while one of the Kings straddled her head, lowering his balls and shaft directly over her mouth, riding her face while she slurped and gagged on him eagerly.
The stage lights flickered, leaving long, red afterimages burning behind my eyelids as the chaos shifted once again.
A Jack grabbed Jennie by the waist, flipping her roughly onto her stomach. The black velvet collar bit into her pale neck as she was shoved face-first onto the soft mat. Another King immediately dropped his knees directly in front of her, forcing his backside right over her lips. She didn’t hesitate, her tongue swirled out to eagerly lick him to the rhythm of the wet, slapping thrusts against her back.
“You love it, don’t you, you dirty little slut,” the Jack behind her sneered, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a bright red mark before plunging back in.
“I love it…” she whimpered, slurping and sucking the puckered hole. “I love it so much… I can’t get enough…”
My head swam, the drugs fighting to fully pull me under. Time passed and paused like the world around me was as broken as my own body. Their moans started sounding distorted, like a scratched record.
“I’m gonna come soon,” a Jack holding her jaw groaned loudly, his hands tangling ruthlessly into her hair. “Open up, bitch.”
“Give it to me,” she begged desperately, as if in a trance. “Give me all of your cum, please.”
They quickly swarmed the front of her; one by one, stroking themselves furiously, letting out ragged shouts as they emptied their thick loads straight into her mouth. She swallowed what she could, but the sheer volume was too much, and the hot, sticky liquid spilled past her lips in thick clots, dripping down her chin and pooling all over her flushed, sweat-drenched chest.
She collapsed onto the mat, her legs finally giving out beneath her.
But it wasn’t over.
Two Jacks pinned her arms high above her head while a King climbed over her, pounding into her pussy with desperate, shallow thrusts.
“Take it like a good little cum-dump, Jennie,” he growled, his hand wrapping around her small neck, groaning loudly before spilling his own release deep inside her thoroughly blown-out hole.
“…Paint my insides with your cum, Master…” she muttered with a satisfied smile, her voice slurring from exhaustion.
And before the first King even finished twitching, the next one took his place, thrusting into her cum-drenched body, causing it to spread across her skin like rain on a window, fusing with sweat and spit.
The remaining men stood over her, offering the last of their carnal lust as thick spurts of cum splashed across her broken face, coating her breasts, painting her stomach and thighs with white. They completely covered every inch of her tiny frame, leaving her twitching and breathless under the blinding lights.
The roar of the audience shattered whatever sanity I had left. My ears rang, the sickening smell of sweat and sex choking the last bit of air from my lungs before my vision caved again.
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
The last suitcase went into the trunk with a final thud.
My father shook hands with the driver while my mother fussed over the crease in her coat, already mentally halfway to Singapore. The neighborhood sat quiet in the grey morning drizzle, the same streets I had walked a thousand times looking completely foreign to me now, like they were already starting to forget I existed.
I stood by the open car door, one hand on the roof, and looked back down the road one last time.
Still nothing. Just the rain and the empty pavement.
“Wonbin-ah, let’s go,” my mother said gently from inside the car. “There’s a lot of traffic to Incheon today.”
I didn’t move. My eyes stayed fixed on the far end of the street, on the corner Wonyoung always came sprinting around whenever she was late for school. I kept waiting for the sound of her sneakers slapping against the wet concrete. Her ponytail. Her voice yelling my name like I was already in trouble for something. Anything.
The driver closed the trunk.
“Son.” My father’s hand landed on my shoulder.
I finally ducked into the cab. The door shut behind me with a soft but devastating click.
As the car pulled away from the curb, I pressed my fingers against the cold window glass, watching the neighborhood shrink behind us. My eyes stayed locked on the corner of the alley, desperately holding onto a hope I knew I shouldn’t have had.
Then, right as we turned toward the main road, a small, lanky figure came sprinting around the corner. Her hair whipped frantically in the rain, her clothes completely soaked through. She chased straight after us, her sneakers slapping hard against the wet asphalt.
“Wonbin! Wait!”
The image cracked down the middle, splitting like broken glass as the suffocating warmth of the car dissolved into the horrible stench of sweat, sex, and despair and the rain on the window melted into blinding stage lights searing into my skull.
“Wonbin! Wonbin! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Wonbin!”
I could hear remnants of Wonyoung’s voice pierce through the endless haze as my consciousness dragged itself out of the dark, piecing the world back together little by little, sending me right back into the living hell of reality.
When the screens finally flickered back to life, they didn’t display a glowing gem or a beating heart. It was a massive, sharp spade, swallowing up the light from the room like a black hole. Goosebumps immediately flared up my arms, and a cryptic chill violently crawled up my spine as I lay flat on the floor, face pressed against the cold, unable to move even an inch.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Dealer’s voice echoed, now devoid of his usual theatrical mockery. “The moment has arrived at long last. We have reached the grand finale of the night.”
A single spotlight beamed down, cutting through the shadows.
Wonyoung stepped into it like a doll come to life, every movement practiced and perfect. The frantic, crying girl who had begged for Yujin just an hour ago was completely gone. She stood with a devastating, terrifying composure, her posture dangerously straight, even more so than normal. The black silk blindfold and the iconic black collar wrapped around her neck looked less like restraints and more like royal garments.
“You know her story well by now, my dear patrons,” the Dealer announced, pacing slowly around her flawless silhouette. “A most heartbreaking journey. A life for a life. A soul for a soul. A goddess forged in absolute darkness. A star amongst stars. Making her debut tonight as the new High Ace of Spades—it is my absolute honor to welcome Jang Wonyoung of IVE!”
The crowd didn’t just cheer; they lost their minds. I watched as a sea of billionaires shot out of their seats in slow motion, howling like feral animals in a deafening roar that shook the room like an earthquake.
I frantically scanned the sea of masked faces through the blinding glare, desperately searching for any lifeline left, but John, Sora, and the rest of them were nowhere to be found. Their half-finished drinks were still sitting on the glass table, but the seats were vacant.
A cold, horrifying realization ruptured in my stomach. They’d left because of Karina’s round. Because I messed everything up. My failure had cost them everything, and now I was entirely alone in the dark.
“My dear,” the Dealer purred, stepping close to her, tilting the microphone up. “On your path to glory, you have inadvertently stolen the valor of many—from your own sister An Yujin to the queen of the industry Jennie to even the great Karina herself. I’m sure many would say that no one deserves it more than you, but are there any words you’d like to share with our audience?”
Wonyoung tilted her chin up, a beautiful, hauntingly hollow smile gracing her plump red lips. “I have no use explaining myself,” she answered, her voice smooth, steady, and if you listened closely, almost resentful. “Your lips already speak my secrets and these walls already whisper my name to one another. Everything you’ve all heard and said about me is true.” She paused for just a second. “I am the High Ace of Spades. I’ve sacrificed everything and everyone to be here. You can sit in the dark and judge the choices I’ve made to survive, passing your moral sentence on a life you couldn’t possibly understand. Sure, do that.”
She took a slow, blind step toward the front of the stage. Even with the fabric covering her eyes, the way she tilted her head made it feel like she was staring down every single person in the room, judging them for their attendance.
“Or you can let me me show you what the absolute epitome of discipline creates. Let me prove to you why I alone am the true pride of the House of Spades.”
The audience exploded into primal screams of violent, angry lust and carnal worship.
It was like my nervous system completely short-circuited; my body physically rejecting the reality in front of me. She looked so hauntingly beautiful standing there on that stage, but no matter how flawless her face or how perfect her figure was, the reason she was there—the purpose of her existence for the night—was more than I could handle now that it was there right before my eyes.
I tried to scream her name. I tried to push myself up, to run to her, to do absolutely anything. But the drugs had severed the connection between my brain and my body and my vocal cords were completely paralyzed.
All that left my mouth was a pathetic, broken wheeze.
“Let the final war begin!” the Dealer shrieked, his voice piercing through my splitting skull. “Thirty seconds! For all the glory! For all the honor! For the High Ace of Spades!”
The screens above exploded into a chaotic blur of numbers.
“Fourteen Jokers in the first wave!” the Dealer roared, clutching his head. “A historic deadlock! I have never seen such a bloodbath so early! You know what this means, folks! Let us proceed to Sudden Death!”
The music spiked louder, more dramatic than ever before. Over at Table Two, a man ripped off his suit jacket, screaming at the servers to clear the glasses out of his way.
“Back the fuck off!” he howled, his face turning an ugly, bruised shade of red beneath his gold mask. “She’s ours! You already got the House of Diamonds, you greedy fucks!”
“In your fucking dreams, you old piece of shit!” a guest from Table Six roared back.
The men around him immediately joined in, hurling vicious, filthy insults across the ballroom, their voices cracking with sheer, unhinged greed. The remaining tables fed on the hostility, hollering and slamming their palms against the glass to instigate the war. They were turning into a rabid, drooling pack of wild dogs, ready to tear each other apart for the chance—and right—to destroy the love of my life.
“They refuse to yield!” the Dealer howled, feeding off the unhinged greed radiating from the floor. “Four more Jokers burned to ashes! The decks are bleeding dry! Gentlemen, you must break this tie! Give us a second round of Sudden Death!”
The tension stretched the air so thin it felt ready to snap. This wasn’t just a bidding war anymore—it was a public execution of pride. The two groups glared at each other like starving wolves cornering the same prey. The men at Table Two were frantically arguing amongst themselves, their hands physically shaking as they shuffled through the remaining cards in their decks.
“By a single point!” the Dealer screamed, his voice cracking through the speakers as Team Two threw their arms into the air in celebration. “Table Two claims the ultimate prize of the night! Hurry! Show us your face cards!”
My chest caved in. Every single digit added to the pot was another heavy chain wrapping around her, a suffocating reminder that to these masked monsters, the girl I loved more than life itself was just a number to beat.
Team 2 x Wonyoung:
x3 Ace, x4 Jack, x1 Queen, x4 King ((109 +188+ 483)/2) = 390 +100)
(₩11,090,000,000)
The price on the screen was incomprehensible. Eleven billion won.
“A masterpiece of a hand!” the Dealer cheered, bowing deeply toward the winning table. “Three Aces, four Kings, four Jacks, and a Queen! A Full House! Come forth, my Kings!”
Four men in expensive tailored suits immediately marched up the steps to the stage. As they moved into view, a sick, heavy wave of recognition crashed into my rotting gut. I knew exactly who they were. These were the exact same monsters who had claimed Minju and Yuna earlier.
The lead King adjusted his cuffs, his eyes locked onto Wonyoung’s waiting figure with a starving, familiar greed.
“Bring back the rest of the Spades,” he commanded, his voice dripping with arrogance. “And we want the new one, too. Bring us An Yujin.”
“No,” a voice said from the shadows.
“No? Who dares reject us?”
Suzy stepped into the harsh spotlight, her golden crown catching the glare as she stared down the four Kings with absolute disdain.
“An Yujin is not an Ace of Spades,” she said, firmly. “She will not perform for you.”
The lead King scoffed, stepping forward to challenge her authority. “Listen here, Your Majesty. We just dropped a fortune on this table. We bought the highest pot in Auction history probably. We want An Yujin out here right now, or—”
“Or what?” Suzy cut him off, her voice dropping into a deadly calm, looking down at the man like he was nothing but dirt on her shoe.
“Or we’ll let everyone know that the House of Spades does not respect—”
“You must have mistaken our House for another,” she said, her tone dripping with absolute contempt. “You can buy the pot. You can buy a temporary seat in our court. But a Spade can never truly be bought, and we certainly cannot be controlled.” She tilted her chin up, daring him to take another step. “Your money buys you exactly what we choose to give you. Nothing more.”
“Drop the royal act, bitch,” the King spat, his face twisting into a cruel sneer. “Crown or no crown, you’re just the head madam of a glorified whorehouse. Give up your queen card for An Yujin then if she’s not an Ace. Matter of fact, where’s the King of Spades, bring him out—”
Before he could finish his sentence, a massive, suffocating presence flooded the stage from the darkness behind the throne.
“You dare disrespect my Queen in front of this hall? In front of our guests? In front of her High Ace? In front of me?”
I didn’t need to look to know that the voice belonged to the King of Spades. I’d recognize his voice from anywhere.
“Her word is as absolute as mine,” he continued, his tone deep and distorted. “Your request has been denied.”
The lead King paused, visibly annoyed but smart enough to recognize he couldn’t overthrow a true King’s final word. “Fine,” he scoffed, adjusting his jacket as he took a reluctant step back. “Just the real Aces, then.”
There was a brief silence that crept through the room, like a brief calm before the final storm that would drown the night completely.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Let the grand finale… begin,” the Dealer whispered, right before disappearing into the darkness like it was his one last trick. “Long live the House of Spades.”
It was the beginning of the end, and it was finally here.
My brain screamed at my limbs to move. Get up. Stand up. You have to. I clawed at the mat, dragging my nails against the padding, but the drugs had fully taken over my traitorous body.
The handler nudged my ribs with his dress shoe. “Hey, Jack,” he muttered. “Can you perform?”
I twitched, letting out a pathetic groan as I tried to force my arms to hold my weight, but my elbows instantly buckled.
The handler clicked his tongue in disappointment as I fell right back down to the mat. “You’re really done this time, I guess.”
Wait! No, I can go—just give me a minute! Please!
He turned toward someone standing behind me. “Alright, you’re up.”
Every nightmare violently blended into reality before my eyes as Choi Mingyu walked out into the blinding glare of the stage. But somewhere during the never-ending storm raging in my soul, a pair of gentle arms slipped under my shoulders and carefully pulled my dead weight onto a soft lap. I forced my heavy eyes open, blinking through the chaos and madness of this broken, despicable world.
“Yujin—”
But the darkness won. Just as it always had.
And perhaps as it always will.
End of Chapter 16.
--
A/N: Guys this was so dreadful to write from both a narrative and technical perspective T_T. It was sooo much smut and took me forever to write and then proofread, I'm so glad it's over, but I really had to go out with a bang, ya know? XD Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed it at least! We're only two chapters away from the end now :') Thank you for following along this crazy journey! See you all soon! <33
The elevator doors slide open on the fourth floor and the first thing you see is Kim Minjeong on her knees behind a ceramic plant pot.
You naturally arch a brow at the sight. She's crouched low, both hands gripping the rim of the pot like it's a trench wall, her entire body pressed against the fake fern sprouting out of it. She's wearing an oversized grey shirt that barely reaches mid-thigh - and from the way the fabric shifts when she moves, you're pretty damn sure that shirt is the only thing she has on. Her black hair is messy, half-falling over her face, and her bare feet are flat on the hallway tile.
You stop walking. You Blink. You tilt your head.
She hasn't noticed you yet. She's too busy peeking around the edge of the pot, neck craned, lips slightly parted, completely frozen in concentration. The hallway stretches in both directions, somewhere further down you can hear the faint sound of someone rummaging through a bag.
"So, goonette," you say, loud enough to echo off the walls, "what the fuck are you doing?"
Minjeong nearly leaves her body. She spins around so fast her hair whips across her face, grabs your wrist with both hands, and yanks you down to her level with a strength that should not exist in someone her size. Her eyes are wide, panicked, absolutely unhinged.
"Shut up," she hisses, pulling you behind the fern. "Shut up shut up shut up. She's right there."
You stumble forward, catching yourself on the wall. "Ow. What the hell, Minjeong?"
Minjeong jabs her finger down the hallway. You follow the direction and see a girl standing in front of an apartment door about six units down. She's got her back partially turned, one hand holding a tote bag while the other digs around inside a small leather purse. Even from this angle and this distance, you can tell she's gorgeous. Dark hair spilling past her shoulders, a cream-colored blouse tucked into a pleated skirt that stops well above the knee.
"That's her," Minjeong breathes. "Ning Yizhuo. The new neighbor."
"Okay. And?"
"And?" Minjeong stares at you like you just asked her what oxygen is. "And she's right there. In the hallway. Where I also am. At the same time."
"That's generally how hallways work."
"You don't understand." Minjeong shakes her head rapidly. "I can't let her see me. Not like this. I was waiting for you, I heard footsteps, I opened my door and she was already out here, and I just," she gestures at the plant pot, "improvised."
You look at the plant pot. You look at Minjeong, a grown woman in nothing but an oversized shirt, hiding behind fake foliage in a well-lit public corridor.
"This is the worst improvisation I've ever seen."
"Shut up."
"You don't even fit behind this thing. Your whole left shoulder is sticking out."
"I said shut up." She tugs on your sleeve again. "Look at her. Look at that skirt. Are you looking?"
You glance back down the hallway. The girl, Ning Yizhuo, apparently, shifts her weight from one foot to the other while she searches for her keys, and the movement makes the pleated skirt sway against her thighs.
"Yeah, she's hot. So go talk to her."
“Are you out of your FUCKING mind?" she whispers sharply.
"It's 2026, Minjeong. Lesbians have some privileges now. You can say hi to a pretty girl without being burned at the stake."
"I can't just go talk to her."
"You literally can. You walk over there, you open your mouth, and you say hey, I live in 69, nice to meet you."
"No. No no no no." She's shaking her head so hard her hair whips back and forth. "She's too beautiful. She's too perfect. Every time I see her I forget how to be a person. Last week she smiled at me in the lobby and I walked into a glass door. A glass door. In front of her. She watched me do it."
"Jesus Christ."
"I'm in love with her and she thinks I'm brain damaged."
You open your mouth to respond, but then something shifts in the hallway. Ning has stopped digging through her purse. She's looking up. She's looking your way.
Minjeong suddenly drops flat onto her stomach behind the plant, and judging by the noise, it definitely hurt.
You're still half-standing, fully visible, and now there's a very pretty girl staring directly at you from twenty feet away with a slightly confused expression on her face.
"Hi?" Ning calls out. She takes a small step forward, tilting her head. Her face is even prettier up close. Round cheeks, full lips, a little furrow between her brows that somehow makes her look both concerned and adorable. "Are you lost?"
"No," you say, straightening up and trying to look like a normal human being who was not just crouching behind a plant with a half-naked girl. "I'm visiting a friend. Apartment 69. You know if she's home?"
Ning's expression softens. "Oh, the girl in 69? I don't know, honestly. I don't see her very often." Behind the pot, Minjeong clenches her jaw so hard you can almost hear her teeth creak. "She seems nice, though. Quiet. Try your luck, I guess."
"Thanks. I will."
Ning gives you a small wave and a smile that, yeah, okay, you understand why Minjeong is losing her entire mind. It's a very good smile. Warm and a little bit shy.
"Bye," Ning says, and then she finds her keys, unlocks her door, and disappears inside.
The hallway goes quiet. You count to three. "She's gone."
Minjeong rises from behind the pot like a vampire emerging from a coffin. Her face is bright red. Her shirt has ridden up on one side, exposing the curve of her hip, and she doesn't even notice. She just stands there, staring at Ning's closed door, mouth slightly open. You grab her arm and steer her toward apartment 69. She lets you. She's basically on autopilot at this point, shuffling along beside you in bare feet, still looking over her shoulder.
The second you're both inside and the door clicks shut behind you, she leans against the wall and slides down until she's sitting on the floor. "I'm a loser."
"Yep."
"A complete loser."
"The most pathetic dom I've ever met." You kick off your shoes and step past her into the apartment, placing your jacket on the arm of the sofa. It's messy in the way Minjeong's place is always messy, not dirty, just chaotic; a hoodie draped over a chair, three half-empty water bottles on the coffee table, her laptop open on the couch with what you suspect is Ning's Instagram still loaded on the screen. "You can choke me out and make me call you mommy but you can't say hi to a girl in a skirt."
"Shut up."
"You said that already."
"Then shut up again." She pulls her knees up to her chest. The shirt rides higher. She's definitely not wearing anything underneath it, and frankly, you already knew that because this is how it works with you two. She knew you were coming over. She was ready. And then Ning happened and now she's sitting on her own floor having an existential crisis instead of riding your face like she planned.
"Are you horny?" you ask.
She looks up at you with the most offended expression ever. "Of course I'm horny, idiot. I was standing meters away from her. I could smell her perfume. I'm soaked."
"Great. Take it out on me. That's what I'm here for."
That flush on her neck deepens, crawls up to her cheeks, and the corner of her mouth curls into something that isn't quite a smile. It's more like a switch being flipped. One second she's a puddle of useless gay panic on the floor, and the next she's looking at you the way she looks at you when she wants to break you apart.
"Yeah," she says, and just like that, there she is: The Kim Minjeong who knows exactly what she wants and exactly how to take it. "That is a great idea."
This is the thing about your arrangement with Kim Minjeong: you've been fucking for about eight months now, no strings, no feelings, just a mutually beneficial deal that started at a house party where she got drunk, told you she needed someone to use when she was stressed, and you said sure, because you're a simple man with simple needs and she's objectively one of the hottest women you've ever met. No romance. Never has been.
You keep calling her a lesbian, though she’s technically bi – she just prefers women every time. Men are just recreational, tools for her pleasure (and you’re no exception).
She's a dom through and through. With women, she's terrifying. Commanding, controlled, but with you, the dynamic bends. She tops, sure, most of the time, but there's a flexibility to it. A give and take. She likes that you can pick her up. She likes that you push back, that you don't just fold the second she gives an order. She'll never admit it, but sometimes she wants to be the one getting thrown around, and you're the only person she trusts enough to let that happen.
Dom with girls. A bratty little thing with you (when she feels like it).
You don't give her time to get up on her own. You close the distance in two steps, bend down, and scoop her off the floor. She yelps as you throw her over your shoulder like a sack of rice. Her bare thighs press against the side of your face and her fists smack against your back.
"Put me down! I'm the dom here. You can't just manhandle me."
"You're only a dom with other girls." You adjust your grip on her legs, one hand firm on the back of her thigh, the other settled on her lower back, and start walking toward the bedroom. "With me, you're still a submissive little slut."
"Only sometimes," she fires back, but she's laughing, her body shaking against your shoulder, that yelp of surprise already dissolving into breathless giggles that she's trying (and failing) to suppress. Her fingers grab onto the back of your shirt for balance. "This is so undignified. I'm supposed to be intimidating."
"You were hiding behind a plant pot thirty seconds ago. The intimidation ship has sailed."
"I will kill you."
"After I make you cum, maybe."
She smacks the back of your head playfully.
You carry her into the bedroom and throw her onto the mattress. She bounces once, twice, hair splaying out around her head, shirt bunched up around her waist. You were right. Nothing underneath. Just Minjeong, flushed and bare from the waist down, propped up on her elbows, looking at you with that dangerous half-smile that means she's already deciding how she wants this to go.
"What a gentleman," she says, spreading her legs just slightly wider against the sheets.
You pull your shirt over your head and toss it somewhere behind you and then you're climbing onto the bed, climbing onto her, one knee between her thighs and both hands planted on either side of her head.
Minjeong watches you the whole time. That half-smile still there, lazy and sharp at the same time, her eyes tracking you as you settle your weight over her. She doesn't move to take control. Not yet. She just lies there with her hair fanned out on the pillow and that stupid oversized shirt bunched around her ribs, bare from the waist down, waiting.
You kiss her. She smiles against your mouth. You can feel the curve of it, the way her lips pull tight before they soften and open for you. Her hand comes up to the back of your neck, nails dragging lightly through the hair there, and she tilts her chin up to press closer. It's slow. Familiar. You've done this enough times to know exactly how Minjeong kisses when she's wound up (desperate, messy, like she's trying to crawl inside you) versus how she kisses when she's settling in (languid, teasing, every movement calculated). This is somewhere in between. She's keyed up from the hallway but trying to play it cool, and you can feel the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers grip just a little too hard on your neck.
You drop your mouth to her throat. Her pulse hammers against your lips. You drag a slow kiss along the tendon there, down to the junction of her neck and shoulder, and that's where you find it. A faded bruise, yellowish-purple at the edges, right above her collarbone. Your work from last Tuesday.
"Still got it," you murmur against the mark.
"It takes forever to fade on me. I've been wearing turtlenecks like a catholic school teacher."
You press your lips to the hickey, then to her jaw, then to the corner of her mouth, then to her cheek. You pause there. Pull back just enough to look at her.
Kim Minjeong's face is something else. It really is. The bone structure alone is borderline unfair. But up close like this, with her hair messy and her cheeks flushed and her pupils blown wide, there's a softness to her that the sharpness can't hide. Long lashes. Lips bitten pink. She looks, in this moment, genuinely cute. Sweet, even. Innocent. And nobody in the world would guess that this girl has a strap-on collection organized by size in her closet and once made you edge for forty-five minutes while she ate a sandwich.
Your hand slides down. Over the bunched-up shirt, across the flat plane of her stomach, past the dip of her navel. She doesn't flinch, doesn't tense. Just watches you with those dark eyes, lips slightly parted, breathing steady but shallow. Your fingers trail through the thin strip of trimmed hair between her legs and then lower, and the second you make contact, the truth of her situation becomes very, very clear.
She's not just wet. She's slick. Swollen. Her lips are puffy against your fingertips, flushed and hot, and when you drag two fingers through the length of her slit you can feel the slickness coat your skin in a single pass. Eight months of sleeping with this girl and you know what each level of turned on feels like, and this is top tier. This is "I stood three feet from my crush and smelled her perfume and now my brain is soup" levels of arousal.
You press your mouth back to hers. Her tongue meets yours immediately, sliding warm and slow, and you keep your hand where it is, fingers resting against her, not entering, not pressing, just there.
"I love seeing you like this," you say between kisses, your lips brushing hers with every syllable. "All silly. All lovestruck. It's hard to even recognize you."
"Fuck off."
"Seriously. You're like a different person. The girl who sat on my face last week and told me I wasn't allowed to breathe until she finished would never hide behind a plant pot."
"You don't understand." She bites your lower lip, not gently. "Ning doesn't just mess with me. She messes with me on a cellular level. Like, my DNA rearranges when she's nearby. I become a different organism."
"That's the most dramatic thing you've ever said, and you once cried because a girl at a bar had pretty collarbones."
"She did have pretty collarbones." Minjeong shifts her hips, pressing herself against your still-motionless fingers. "And I didn't cry. My eyes watered."
She pushes against your chest. Not hard, but with intent, and you know this cue well enough to roll with it. You let her flip the position, your back hitting the mattress, and she's on her side next to you in an instant. But she doesn't climb on top of you. Doesn't straddle you. Instead, she twists around toward the nightstand, reaching for her phone.
"What are you doing?"
"Making you understand."
Her free hand finds your waistband. She tugs your pants down with a single efficient yank, underwear included, because Minjeong has never had patience for steps. Your cock springs free, already hard. She wraps her fingers around the base without even looking, thumb pressed against the underside, grip firm and familiar. Then she settles beside you, shoulder pressed to yours, and holds the phone up so you can both see the screen.
Ning's Instagram. Already open. Already loaded.
"Have you just... had this open? The whole time?"
"Don't worry about it." She scrolls up with her thumb. The grid fills with photos, and even in tiny square thumbnails you can tell this girl knows what she's doing with a camera. "Look. Everyone thinks she's this sweet little shy thing. And yeah, on the surface, sure. She posts these cute little aesthetic shots, coffee cups, sunsets, book stacks. But then."
She taps on a photo. It loads full-screen.
Ning, sitting on a windowsill, sunlight hitting her from behind. She's wearing a white tank top and shorts, legs crossed, chin tilted up. The light makes the tank top just translucent enough to show the shadow of her bra underneath. Her expression is serene. Very innocent.
"See? See that? She knows exactly what she's doing with that angle." Minjeong's hand starts moving on your cock. Slow, steady strokes, her grip twisting slightly at the head the way she knows you like. Her eyes don't leave the phone screen. "And this one." She swipes. New photo. Ning at what looks like a rooftop bar, leaning forward on a railing, wearing a low-cut top that compresses her tits together into a line of cleavage that is impossible not to look at. She's laughing at something off-camera, completely natural, completely devastating. "She posted this at eleven PM on a Wednesday," Minjeong says, her thumb swiping again, her other hand maintaining that maddening rhythm on your shaft. "Eleven PM. On a Wednesday. Who posts cleavage at eleven PM on a Wednesday?"
"Someone who looks good and wants people to know."
"Exactly. She's not innocent. She's a little slut who likes showing off. And everyone in her comments is like oh so pretty queen gorgeous and she replies with little heart emojis like she isn't fully aware that she's making people lose their minds."
She swipes again. And again. A photo of Ning at the beach in a bikini, a selfie where she's biting her lower lip and looking directly into the lens. A gym photo (sports bra, leggings, glistening with sweat, the absolute audacity of this woman). Each one, Minjeong narrates like she's giving a museum tour of her own personal torment.
Then she stops scrolling. Taps on one photo. Holds the phone closer. This one is different.
Ning took it with the phone behind her, catching the reflection in a full-length mirror. She's standing in what looks like her bedroom. She's wearing a dress. Tight. Short. White fabric that clings to every curve, hemline barely reaching mid-thigh. But that's not the part that makes your cock twitch in Minjeong's hand. It's the fabric itself. Slightly sheer. Just enough that you can make out, underneath the dress, the outline of her underwear. The faint color difference where the material thins over her ass. And her ass, in this photo, is the absolute center of gravity. Round. Full. The exactly kind of shape that the dress was designed to showcase, every inch hugged tight.
Minjeong's grip tightens on you. Her strokes get slower. She's savoring both the image and your reaction simultaneously.
"Look at that," she murmurs. "Look at her ass. It's so round. So tight. Do you see how the dress barely holds it? And those panties showing through, she knew. She absolutely knew when she put that dress on."
"Yeah," you manage, because her thumb is doing something truly unfair to the head of your cock right now.
"I think about this photo at least three times a day. Minimum. I've zoomed in. I've screenshotted it. I'm not proud of any of this."
"You shouldn't be."
"But look at it." She tilts the screen again, like you somehow missed it. "That's my neighbor. That ass is twenty feet from my front door at any given time. That ass takes out the trash. That ass rides the elevator. That ass exists in the same building as me and I haven't touched it and I might actually die from that fact."
You turn your head to look at her. Her cheeks are red. Her lips are wet. Her hand hasn't stopped moving. "So what are you gonna do about it?"
Her strokes falter for half a second, that same panicked expression from the hallway, the one that turns her from a confident dom into a disaster lesbian in zero-point-five seconds flat. Then she recovers, keeps stroking, and lets out a long exhale through her nose. "Nothing. Yet."
"You're a fucking loser."
"I need courage! I need time. I need to figure out if she even likes girls, and I need to do that without accidentally liking one of her posts from 2024 at four AM, which, yes, has almost happened."
"You're hopeless."
"I know." She swipes back to the mirror photo. Stares at it. Her hand squeezes your cock, slow and tight. "For now I can only fantasize about her. About what I'd do if she let me. What she'd sound like. What she'd look like underneath all those little outfits." She locks the phone and drops it on the mattress. Turns her head to look at you. "But I've got you for now." Her hand twists on the upstroke. "So let me use you until I figure the rest out.”
“I'm all yours, babe.”
Minjeong smiles at that, then lets go of your cock and grabs the hem of her shirt and peels it off in one smooth motion, tossing it behind her. It lands somewhere on the floor, probably on top of your shirt, and now there's nothing between the two of you.
You've seen her naked plenty of times. Eight months of this arrangement means the novelty of nudity itself wore off around month two. But Minjeong's body is still something worth looking at, and you let yourself look while she shifts on the bed, swinging one leg over your hips to straddle you. She's small. That's the thing that always catches you off guard, every single time, the sheer smallness of her. Narrow shoulders, a waist you can almost span with both hands, ribs you can count when she arches her back.
Her tits are on the smaller side, firm and round, nipples already stiff, small rosy peaks, puffy and firm. Her stomach is flat, tight, the faint outline of muscle there not from any disciplined gym routine but from the kind of lean genetics that some people luck into. Her hip bones jut out just slightly, two subtle ridges that frame the space between her legs like brackets.
She's tiny. She's maybe a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. And she runs your entire sex life with an iron fist.
Minjeong settles her weight on your hips, her bare pussy pressing flat against the length of your cock. She's so wet that you can feel it immediately, hot slickness spreading against your shaft, coating the underside as she shifts her hips in a slow experimental grind. Her thighs tense on either side of you. She reaches down, wraps her fingers around your cock, lifts herself up just enough to position you, and then she sinks.
It's one fluid motion. No teasing, no hesitation, just Minjeong dropping her hips and taking you to the base in a single stroke. Her pussy swallows you whole, tight and soaked and burning hot, inner walls clenching around you as her weight settles into your lap. Her eyes flutter shut for half a second, lips pressing together, and then she exhales slowly through her nose and opens her eyes again.
She looks down at you. And gives you the most mischievous fucking smile you've ever seen on a human face.
It's the kind of expression that shouldn't be legal on someone this small, this cute, this outwardly innocent-looking. Her eyes are narrowed into pleased little crescents. She knows she looks good up there. She knows the visual of her tiny frame perched on top of you, back straight, shoulders back, every compact inch of her on display, is doing exactly what it's supposed to do to your brain.
Then she starts to move. Lazy rolls of her hips, grinding more than bouncing, working her clit against your pelvic bone with each forward push. You reach up and touch her face. Your thumb traces along her cheekbone, down to the corner of her mouth, and she turns her head just enough to catch it between her lips. Sucks it in to the first knuckle, tongue swirling around the pad, cheeks hollowing slightly. Her eyes stay locked on yours the whole time, still rolling her hips in that maddening rhythm.
She lets your thumb go with a soft sound and settles into a steady pace. Her pussy clenches around you every time she pushes forward, that grinding motion spreading her slick all over the base of your cock, making everything obscenely wet.
"So," you say, resting both hands on her thighs, "how was your day?"
"Fine. It was a good day, actually."
"Tell me more."
"Worked until like four. Nothing crazy, just emails and a presentation that nobody's going to read." She punctuates this with a particularly firm grind, her clit dragging hard against you, and her eyelids flutter. "Then I came home and played Burnout Revenge."
"The racing game?"
"PS2 classic. I'm running it through an emulator with upscaling to 4K. The textures hold up surprisingly well, actually. The crash physics are still unmatched in the genre, and at higher resolution you can really appreciate the particle effects during takedowns."
"That was extremely specific. Anything else?"
She bites her lip. The rhythm of her hips hasn't faltered once during this entire conversation, steady and practiced, she could probably fuck you and file her taxes at the same time. "And, obviously, I kept gooning to Ning."
"Obviously."
"The usual routine. Went through her tagged photos. Found a TikTok where she's doing that stretching trend. Watched it nine times. Locked my phone. Unlocked it. Watched it four more times." She rolls her hips in a tight circle that makes your fingers dig into her thighs. "Came twice thinking about her sitting on my face. Showered. Then you texted."
"So your evening was: vintage racing games, cyberstalking, and masturbating."
"Don't judge me."
"I'm not judging. Just a goonette living her best life. Gotta respect it."
She leans forward, planting her hands on your chest again, and the angle shifts. Now she's bouncing, lifting her hips until just the tip stays inside and dropping back down with a wet slap of skin. Her tits sway with the motion small enough that it's more of a jiggle, barely there, but you watch it anyway because she's gorgeous. Her stomach flexes with each rise and fall. The muscles in her thighs work visibly under her skin.
"She posted a story today," Minjeong continues, slightly breathless now but still committed to the conversation. "Just a mirror selfie. Gym clothes. Sports bra and those tiny shorts. You could see the outline of her..."
"Her what?"
"Her pussy." Minjeong says it like she's confessing a mortal sin. "Through the shorts. Just the shape. The seam was sitting right between her lips and I almost threw my phone across the room."
"You're unwell."
"I'm aware." She sits up straight and grinds down hard, taking you as deep as possible, and her jaw goes tight for a second. Her cunt is soaked, absolutely drenched, and every movement makes a slick, filthy sound that fills the space between sentences. "I screenshot it. I have it saved in a separate album. With the other forty-seven screenshots."
"Forty-seven."
"Don't start."
You slide your hands up from her thighs to her waist, gripping that narrow frame, thumbs pressing into the soft skin below her ribs. She feels impossibly small in your hands, fragile almost, and the dissonance between that and the way she's currently milking your cock with practiced efficiency is something you'll never fully get used to.
She plants her palms flat on your abs and picks up the pace. Faster now, less grinding and more fucking, her hips snapping down with intent. Her pussy is clenching in uneven pulses, tight enough that you can feel every ridge of her, every slick fold gripping your shaft on the outstroke. A strand of her black hair sticks to her forehead with sweat. Her cheeks are flushed dark pink.
"Ning. Tell me what you'd do if you had her. All of it."
That glassy, faraway look sharpens into focus, and the corner of her mouth twitches upward. She leans down, chest pressing against yours, and kisses you, her lips brush yours when she talks. "You want to hear it?"
"Every detail."
She rolls her hips once, grinding your cock against her front wall, and exhales warm against your mouth. "Okay. So first, I'd take my time. I wouldn't rush her." Her hips find a rhythm again, slow circular grinds, keeping you deep while she talks. You thrust up to meet her, a steady push from below, and her breath hitches before she continues. "I'd get her on this bed. Right here. And I'd just kiss her for a while. Like, actually kiss her. I want to know what her mouth tastes like. I want to learn the shape of her lips with mine." She kisses you again, brief, punctuating the thought. "Then I'd undress her. Slowly. I'd take that little skirt off first and just look at her legs. Run my hands up her thighs. Feel how soft she is."
"Romantic."
"Shut up, I'm getting there." She grinds down harder, her clit catching against your pelvic bone, and her jaw tightens for a second before she keeps going. "I'd kiss down her neck. Her collarbones. I'd pull her bra off and put my mouth on her tits. She's got perfect tits, you saw the photos. I'd suck on her nipples until she's squirming and pulling my hair."
You thrust up into her, firm and steady, and she gasps against your lips. Her pussy clenches around you, soaked and tight, and you feel her arousal running down your shaft onto your thighs. She's dripping.
"Then I'd go lower. Kiss her stomach. Bite her hip bones. And when I finally got between her legs..." Minjeong's breathing is heavier now, her hips grinding with more urgency. "I'd make her wait. I'd kiss the insides of her thighs. Breathe on her pussy without touching it. Let her feel how close my mouth is. She'd be begging by then."
"You think?"
"I know. She'd be grabbing the sheets and whining and pushing her hips up, trying to get my mouth on her." Minjeong bites your lower lip, tugging gently. "And I'd look up at her and say, 'Ask nicely.' And she would. She'd say please in that sweet little tone and I'd finally put my tongue on her clit and she'd lose her fucking mind."
You grip her hips and pull her down onto the next thrust, burying yourself to the hilt, and she moans against your mouth. A shaky, breathy thing that she immediately tries to talk over.
"I'd eat her pussy until she came on my face. I'd drink every drop." Her fingers curl against your chest, nails pressing crescents into your skin. "And then I wouldn't stop. I'd keep going. She'd be sensitive and twitching and trying to close her legs but I'd hold her open and keep licking until she came again."
"That's just foreplay?"
"That's just the beginning." Minjeong sits up slightly, just enough to change the angle, and sinks back down with a wet sound that echoes in the room. Her pussy grips you impossibly tight as she adjusts. "After that, I'd flip her over. Get her on her hands and knees. And I'd take my time looking at her from behind. That ass, spread open for me, her pussy swollen and wet and dripping down her thighs."
She's riding you harder now, the tempo picking up. Her thighs flex against your sides with each stroke, her abs clenching as she grinds forward. You match her rhythm from below, fucking up into her.
"I'd spit on her pussy." She says it right against your lips, no hesitation. "I'd watch it drip down. Then I'd finger her. Two fingers, deep, curling right against that spot. I'd finger-fuck her until her arms gave out and she collapsed face-first into the pillow."
"And the strap?"
Her eyes light up. Literally brighten, like you just said the magic word. "The strap! Oh, I'd make her earn the strap. She'd have to suck it first. Get on her knees in front of me and take it in her throat. Get it nice and wet while looking up at me. And I'd hold her hair and tell her she's a good girl."
She kisses you again, messy and open, all tongue and shared breath. When she breaks away, a thin string of saliva connects your lips for a second before it breaks. "Then I'd fuck her. Start slow. Let her feel every inch going in. And then I'd grab her hips and rail her until she screamed. I'd pull her hair and smack her ass and call her my little whore and she'd love it, she'd take it so well, she'd push back onto me begging for more."
You thrust up hard enough to make her yelp. She recovers instantly, grinding down, chasing the friction against her clit with desperate, needy movements.
"But here's the thing. That's all just the beginning. The real plan is bigger."
"Bigger how?"
"I'm going to turn her into a pet."
"A pet?”
"A kitten." She says it with absolute conviction. "I'm going to slowly, methodically, lovingly transform Ning into my personal kitten." She grinds down on you, rotating her hips in a tight circle that makes your toes curl, and keeps talking like she's not currently fucking you into the mattress. "I still have that collar. The one with the little bell. I bought it over a year ago and never used it because I never found the right person." Her pussy clenches around your cock, rhythmic, pulsing. "Ning is the right person. I'm going to put that collar around her pretty neck and hear that little bell jingle every time she moves. Every time she crawls to me."
"Crawls."
"On her hands and knees. Like a good kitten." She licks her lips. "First, the collar. Let her get used to wearing it. Sleep in it. Feel it against her throat all day and think about who it belongs to. About who she belongs to."
Your hands slide up her thighs, gripping her waist as you keep thrusting into her from below. She's dripping down your shaft, her arousal coating the insides of her thighs, making everything slippery and filthy.
"Then the ears. Cute little cat ears on a headband. She'd wear them when she comes over. Take off her shoes at the door and put on her ears and become my kitten." Minjeong's riding is getting erratic, less controlled, her body chasing something. "And finally... the tail."
"Tail?"
"Anal plug. With a tail attached. Long, fluffy, the kind that sways when she walks." Her eyes are glazed, dark, gone somewhere deep inside her own fantasy. "She'd wear all three. Collar with the bell. Ears. Tail. And she'd kneel at my feet and purr while I pet her hair and tell her she's the prettiest kitten in the whole world."
She drops her forehead against yours, breathing hard, her hips slamming down onto you with increasing desperation.
"A slow metamorphosis," she pants. "Step by step. From the sweet neighbor into my perfect little pet. Exactly like Kafka."
That makes you pause mid-thrust. "Kafka?"
"The Metamorphosis. Gregor Samsa wakes up transformed. Ning's transformation is just more... intentional. Guided. Consensual."
"I really don't think Kafka's book is about pet play, Minjeong."
She sits up, still riding you, still grinding, her pussy clenching in those telltale uneven spasms that mean she's getting close, and gives you a look of genuine academic offense.
"It doesn't matter. Let me tell you a secret about art: once a work is published, it no longer belongs to the author. It belongs to the public. And the public draws its own interpretation." She punctuates this with a hard grind that nearly makes you choke. "A work of art depends on its creator to be born, but once it's finished, its existence no longer depends on the creator. Barthes wrote about this. The death of the author."
"You’re pushing this concept to another level."
“If there are two things I take seriously, it’s literature and smut." Her thighs are shaking now, trembling visibly, and her rhythm is falling apart. She's close and trying to hold the conversation together through sheer stubbornness. "So yes. I'm going to give Ning a metamorphosis. A beautiful, filthy, calculated metamorphosis. From girl to kitten."
You grab her hips and pull her down hard, thrusting up into her, and her composure cracks. Her head drops back, her nails rake down your chest, and her pussy clamps around you like a fist. "Well," you manage, "better a kitten than an insect, I guess."
She laughs (or tries to, it comes out strangled and thin) and then you grab her thighs and flip her. One smooth motion, you've done this enough times to know how she folds, and suddenly she's on her back beneath you, black hair splayed across the pillow, legs wrapped around your waist, looking up at you with glassy, unfocused eyes and a mouth that won't stop running.
You slide back into her and she arches off the mattress. "Keep talking," you tell her, setting a deep, steady pace. "Tell me where I fit in."
Her arms loop around your neck, pulling you close, her lips brushing against your ear while you fuck her. "You'd be there. When I have her. I'd make you fuck her while I watch."
"Yeah?"
"On her back. Legs spread. I'd hold them open for you and watch your cock slide into her pretty little cunt." She clenches around you, hard, her heels digging into the small of your back. "I'd tell you how fast to go. When to stop. When to keep going. She'd look at me the whole time, begging me with those big eyes, and I'd just pet her hair and tell her to take it."
You pound into her harder and she gasps, fingernails raking down your shoulders.
"And when I'm done watching, I'd climb over her face and sit on it. Make her eat me out while you fuck her." Her hips are rocking up to meet every thrust, her pussy so wet you can hear it with every stroke, slick and obscene. "And I'd cum on her. I'd squirt all over her gorgeous face and her neck and her tits and she'd be dripping with it, covered in me, and she'd fucking love it."
"What about me?"
Her legs tighten around you. She's trembling, her whole body vibrating with tension, and her sentences are coming out fragmented, breathless. "You'd pull out of her pussy and jerk off on her face. All of it. Every drop. I want to see her pretty face painted with your cum. And then I'd lean down and lick it all off. Every streak. From her forehead to her chin. And I'd kiss her and push it into her mouth and she'd swallow it and thank me."
You drive into her deep, grinding, and her back arches so hard only her shoulders and hips are touching the mattress. "We'd take turns. I'd fuck her with the strap until she's screaming and then hand her to you. You'd fuck her throat until she's gagging and then give her back to me. Back and forth. Like she's ours. Our little toy. Our perfect little..."
Her sentence dies. Her mouth opens in a silent gasp, eyes squeezing shut, and you feel it before she says anything. Her pussy locks down around your cock in rhythmic, convulsive pulses, tight enough to make you grit your teeth. Her thighs clamp against your ribs. Her nails break skin on your shoulders. Her whole body goes rigid, suspended, every muscle drawn taut like a wire.
Then she breaks. The orgasm tears through her in waves. She shakes underneath you, her hips bucking upward, riding it out on your cock while incoherent sounds spill from her throat. Not moans, not screams, something between the two. Raw, guttural, the sound of someone who's been edging herself mentally for weeks on fantasies about her neighbor and finally found the right release valve). Her pussy flutters and grips and releases and grips again, milking your shaft in spasms that you feel all the way to the base of your spine.
You don't stop. You fuck her through it, pace relentless, chasing your own finish now. She's boneless beneath you, still twitching through aftershocks, oversensitive and whimpering every time you bottom out. Her hands slide weakly down your arms, grip failing, body completely spent.
It hits you thirty seconds later. That tight coil in your gut snaps and you pull out just in time, fist around your shaft, pumping hard. The first rope lands across her stomach, thick and hot against her skin. The second catches her ribs. The third drips between her tits, pooling in the dip of her sternum. She watches the whole thing with heavy-lidded eyes and a lazy, satisfied smile, her fingers trailing through the mess on her stomach, smearing it across her skin like lotion. "I love that," she murmurs. "I love feeling it land on me."
You collapse next to her. Both of you are breathing like you just finished a sprint. Minjeong stares at the ceiling, chest rising and falling, your cum drying on her skin in streaks.
"That was good," she says eventually.
"Yeah."
Silence for a few seconds. Comfortable. Then you roll your head to look at her.
"Take a quick shower."
She frowns. "Why the urgency?"
"Because while you're in there, I'm going to invite Ning over."
Minjeong sits up so fast she almost headbutts you. "Like, now? Right now?!"
"Right now."
"I'm not prepared. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. I have cum on my stomach. My hair is a disaster. I haven't mentally rehearsed any conversation starters. I don't even have snacks."
“Shower. Fix your hair. Put on something cute. I'll handle the rest."
She stares at you with the wide, panicked eyes of someone who's just been told their execution has been moved up. "What are you going to say to her?"
You shrug. "I'll improvise."
"That's the worst possible answer you could have given me!"
"Shower. Now. Go."
She goes. Reluctantly, trailing protests down the hallway, but she goes. You hear the bathroom door close, then the water start. You give yourself sixty seconds to pull your pants on, check your hair in the hallway mirror, and walk out of apartment 69.
Apartment 71 is right there. Two doors down. You knock. Footsteps. A pause (probably checking the peephole). Then the door swings open, and there's Ning.
She's changed since the hallway encounter. The skirt is gone, replaced by fitted jeans and a black blouse that you immediately cannot stop noticing. It's sheer. Not fully transparent, but enough that the dark outline of her bra is visible underneath and her hair is down, slightly wavy, framing that face.
"Oh, hi! You're the guy from earlier." She leans against the doorframe, smiling. "Did you find your friend?"
"I did, yeah. She was home."
"Good." Ning tilts her head. "So what's up?"
"Okay, this might sound random, but Minjeong and I ended up buying way too many drinks and it seems stupid for just two people to go through all of it. You want to come over? Just casual, hanging out, nothing weird."
Ning's eyebrows lift. "Minjeong invited me?"
"Basically, yeah."
"That's... huh." She crosses her arms, but not defensively. More like she's processing. "I thought she didn't like me very much, honestly. I always got the feeling she was avoiding me. Like, every time I see her in the hallway she kind of... disappears?"
You almost laugh. "No, she's just shy. Genuinely. She's one of those people who comes across as distant but really she's just terrible at starting conversations."
"Really?"
"Really. She actually thinks you're super nice. Talks about you a lot." (Understatement of the century.) "She'd love to get to know you better, she just doesn't know how to make the first move."
Ning's smile shifts. Wider, softer, and there's a pink flush creeping up her neck that she probably doesn't realize you can see. "That's actually really sweet. I've been wanting to talk to her too, I just didn't want to bother her if she wasn't interested."
"Trust me. She's interested."
Ning tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glances back into her apartment for a second and then looks back at you. "Yeah, okay. Let me grab my phone. Give me like two minutes."
"Take your time. Apartment 69, whenever you're ready."
She grins. "Be right there."
You lean against the wall outside apartment 71, hands in your pockets, waiting. Through the open door you can hear Ning moving around inside (a drawer opening, something falling, a muttered "where did I put it"). She reappears thirty seconds later, phone in hand, slipping on a pair of white sneakers by the door.
"Ready," she announces, pulling the door shut behind her.
You walk her the ten steps to apartment 69. It's not a long journey. Ning could have done it alone. But you're the wingman tonight, and wingmen escort. You push the door open and step aside to let her in first. She crosses the threshold at the exact moment Minjeong rounds the corner from the hallway, freshly showered, hair still slightly damp at the ends, wearing a cropped tank top and the shortest pair of cotton shorts you've ever seen on a human being. Her legs look freshly moisturized. She smells like peach body wash from three meters away.
She sees Ning.
Ning sees her.
Minjeong’s expression glitches in real time. Shock. Panic. A vacant reboot stare. And finally, a smile pulled so tight it looks less like happiness and more like muscle strain.
"Hi," Ning says brightly, giving a small wave. "I hope it's okay that I came over. Your friend said you guys had too many drinks?"
Minjeong's eyes slide to you. There is murder in them. Pure, concentrated, premeditated murder. Then she looks back at Ning and the strained smile returns. "Yeah. Totally. So many drinks. Come in."
You close the door and head straight for the kitchen. "Let me check what we're working with." You open Minjeong's refrigerator. The interior is depressingly sparse (condiments, leftover rice in a container, half a lemon wrapped in plastic, and three cans of beer lined up on the bottom shelf). "We have a total of... three beers."
You grab all three, carry them to the living room, and distribute one to each person. Ning takes hers, looks at the single can in her hand, then looks at you.
"I thought you said there were too many?"
"Three beers is way too much for two people... if you don't think about it."
Ning considers this logic. Decides not to challenge it. Cracks her can open.
The three of you sit on the couch. Minjeong on one end, Ning on the other, you in the middle like a human buffer zone. Complete silence. You can hear the refrigerator humming in the kitchen. Somewhere outside, a car alarm goes off and stops. Minjeong takes a sip of beer. Ning takes a sip of beer. You take a sip of beer.
"Is that TV new?" you ask Minjeong, gesturing at the wall.
She follows your gesture. Stares at the blank wall. Looks back at you. "There's no TV there."
"Oh. You're right. My bad."
More silence. Ning clears her throat. "This beer is good," she offers. "It's really... cold."
"I like cold beer," you say.
"Me too," Minjeong adds. "Water as well. And soda. Anything cold. I like cold liquids in general."
You have never in your life wanted to leave a room more than you do right now.
"So," Ning says, turning slightly to face both of you, "how did you two meet?"
"Mutual friends," you say at the same time Minjeong says "Mutual friends." You glance at each other. At least you're synchronized on the cover story. The real story involves a house party, four shots of tequila, and Minjeong whispering something in your ear so filthy you nearly choked on an ice cube. But Ning doesn't need that information right now.
"That's nice," Ning says. "I don't really know anyone in the building yet. I moved here about three weeks ago."
"Where from?" you ask.
"Across town. I chose this place because it's closer to the university."
"Cool," Minjeong says. Then nothing.
This isn't going anywhere. The conversation has the energy of a dentist's waiting room. Ning is being polite, Minjeong is buffering, and you're running out of observations about temperature-sensitive beverages.
Time to go nuclear.
You stand up. "I'm going to grab something from the fridge." You take one step, then turn back toward Ning as if you just remembered something: "Oh, by the way, Minjeong thinks you're very, very, very beautiful. Isn't that great?"
You don't wait for the reaction. You hear Minjeong hiss behind you (something that sounds a lot like "I'm going to fucking kill you"), but you're already walking to the kitchen with a grin so wide it hurts your face. You open the refrigerator and start rummaging, slowly, giving them all the time they need.
From the living room, silence. After a moment, Ning finally asks, softly: “Is that true?”
You can practically hear Minjeong's heartbeat from here. A pause. A long one. Then her answer, quiet and unsteady: "Well. If you like hearing it, it's true. If you don't like hearing it, then he's a liar and I'll fight him."
Ning laughs. Warm and sweet, not polite. "I like hearing it, don't worry."
Another pause. You move a jar of pickles aside, pretending to search for something.
"Then it's true," she says, softer than you’ve ever heard.
"I'm not going to let you panic alone." That's Ning. Closer now. "I think you're beautiful too. And mysterious. Every time I see you in the hallway you vanish before I can say anything and I've been wanting to actually get to know you properly for a while."
"I've wanted to get to know you properly too." Minjeong's breathing is audible even from the kitchen. "Your whole body, too." Dead silence. "I mean. That's. I didn't. That came out wrong! I meant your whole personality. Your whole person. Not your body specifically. Not that there's anything wrong with your body, your body is... I'm going to stop talking now."
"It's fine."
"I'm so sorry. God, I’m so pathetic. The second I’m around a pretty girl, my brain just shuts off.”
"Minjeong." Ning murmurs, tender and sure. "I said it's fine. Actually, I'd really like that."
You're still crouched in front of the refrigerator, not even pretending to look anymore, just listening. Then your eyes land on something wedged behind the leftover rice. Chocolate. A full bar, dark, still in the wrapper. You grab it, stand up, close the fridge.
You turn around.
On the couch, Ning has one hand on Minjeong's cheek. Minjeong's fingers are tangled in Ning's hair. Their mouths are pressed together, Ning tilting her head to deepen the angle while Minjeong pulls her closer by the waist. Ning's lips part and Minjeong leans in, and the kiss turns from tentative into something unhurried and real.
You stand there holding a chocolate bar, mouth slightly open.
"Okay. Damn." You look down at the chocolate, then back at the couch. "That was fucking fast."
Neither of them hears you. Minjeong's hand slides from Ning's waist to the small of her back, and Ning melts into her like she's been waiting three weeks for exactly this. You take a bite of chocolate and lean against the kitchen counter to watch, because honestly, you earned this.
Minjeong has shifted from sitting beside Ning to climbing onto her lap, knees bracketing Ning's thighs, hands cupping her face. The kiss has evolved past tentative and into something hungry, Minjeong tilting Ning's chin up with her thumb, licking into her mouth, rolling her hips in these tiny, unconscious movements against Ning's legs. Ning's hands hover at Minjeong's, then finally settle there, fingers gripping the hem of the tank top.
They've completely forgotten you exist. You take another bite of chocolate.
Then Ning's eyes drift open mid-kiss and catch you standing in the kitchen doorway, casually eating a snack. She breaks away from Minjeong's mouth, lips swollen and pink, looking slightly dazed.
"What about your friend?"
Minjeong glances over her shoulder at you, then back at Ning. She doesn't climb off her lap. Instead, she settles more comfortably, running her fingers through Ning's hair.
"So, the thing is: he and I are fuck buddies."
"Oh.” It's the only sound that comes out of Ning's mouth.
"We have sex together. Like, quite often. It's a whole arrangement."
"Oh."
"And I was wondering if maybe you'd want to join us tonight? Like, I don't know. It'll be fun."
"I'm sorry, join you as in..."
"As in exactly what you're thinking."
Ning lets out a short, startled laugh. "Minjeong. We just kissed for the first time like two minutes ago."
"I know."
"And you're already asking me to have a threesome with you and your friend."
"I know how it sounds. It is insane. One hundred percent. I won't argue with that." Minjeong's thumb traces small circles on Ning's hip, her gaze steady even though her ears are turning red. "But I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it. A lot. Like, an embarrassing amount."
"You've thought about this. This specifically."
"You, me, him. In very explicit detail. Multiple times. For weeks." Minjeong swallows but doesn't look away. "Since you moved in, basically. I've had whole scenarios in my head that I'm not going to describe right now because you'd never look at me the same way again."
"That's... I don't even know what to say to that."
"You can say no. It's completely fine. We'll pretend I never said anything and just go back to kissing on the couch and I'll die of embarrassment quietly on my own time."
"No, it's not that. It's just." Ning glances at you again. You keep your face perfectly neutral. Switzerland. "This is a lot. I barely know either of you."
"I get that."
Ning chews the inside of her cheek. She's fidgeting with the hem of her top, twisting the fabric between her fingers. "Can I be honest about something?"
"Please."
"I find it really, really hot that you've been thinking about that."
Minjeong is going to die. You can see it happening, the superhuman effort required to keep her expression at calm and cool when every atom of her being is screaming. Ning covers her face with one hand, speaking through her fingers. "And it's so embarrassing to admit this but I've always wanted to try it. A threesome. Like, always. It's been on my list forever and I never had the opportunity or the nerve and now you're just casually offering it to me on a random weeknight and I..."
"You have a list?"
"Shut up, everyone has a list." Ning drops her hand. Her face is burning but her eyes are bright. "It's so kinky. It's so filthy. I can't believe I'm actually considering this."
"You're considering it?"
"I'm past considering it." She exhales, something reckless and electric settling into her expression. "Okay. Yeah. Okay. Before I lose my nerve and go back to my apartment and scream into a pillow for three hours about what I almost did."
Minjeong takes her hand. "Come see my room.”
The three of you file down the hallway. Minjeong pushes the bedroom door open and Ning steps in, her eyes sweeping the space. It's relatively tidy (Minjeong cleaned up most of the evidence), but a few things are still out. A bottle of lube on the nightstand. A silicone vibrator resting casually on the dresser like a paperweight. A harness draped over the back of a chair.
Ning stares at the harness, then at the vibrator, then at Minjeong.
You lean close to Ning's ear. "These are just the ones she left out. The whole arsenal is in the drawers."
"Drawers," Ning repeats faintly. "Plural."
"Top one is straps. Middle is accessories. Bottom is stuff she won't tell me about."
Minjeong shoots you a look but doesn't deny it. She perches on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, and pats the sheets beside her. "Sorry, the bed's a little messy. We were, um. He and I were having sex before you came over."
"Seriously?"
"Yes," you confirm, stepping closer. "In fact, we were having sex and thinking about you."
Ning's lips part. Her eyes go wide, bouncing between the two of you. "About me?"
"Minjeong came thinking about you." You say it plainly. "She talks about you constantly. She's been stalking your Instagram for weeks. Those photos you post, the ones in the tight dresses? She has a whole saved folder."
"Forty-seven screenshots," Minjeong adds quietly, apparently deciding that full transparency is the move now.
"Forty-seven," Ning echoes.
You guide Ning gently by the shoulders until she's sitting on Minjeong's lap, facing outward, her back against Minjeong's chest. Minjeong's arms wrap around her waist instinctively, chin resting on her shoulder.
"Minjeong is a certified perv, you’re her newest subject of observation,” you continue. "She hid behind a plant in the hallway tonight because you were wearing a skirt and she couldn't handle it."
"The plant," Ning says, something clicking. "I thought I saw someone crouching by that fern."
"That was her."
Minjeong groans into Ning's shoulder.
You don't waste time and lean down to kiss Ning. Soft, exploratory, tasting the beer on her lips, and she kisses you back without hesitation. Behind her, Minjeong holds her steady, fingers spreading across Ning's stomach. Ning pulls back, slightly dazed. "Having two people wanting me like this. Thinking about me like that. It's... it's messing with my head."
Minjeong's lips find her ear. You don't hear the whispers, but you know exactly what she's saying. Ning's breath hitches. Her thighs press together. Her eyes flutter shut. While Minjeong murmurs, you kneel down and untie Ning's sneakers, pulling them off one at a time. Then her jeans (button, zipper, easing the denim down her legs while she lifts her hips to help). Her blouse goes next, Minjeong helping from behind, and then she's sitting there in a black lace bra and matching panties, skin warm and flushed, goosebumps rising along her arms.
"Look at you," Minjeong breathes, running her palms over Ning's bare shoulders. She presses her lips there, a trail of kisses across the curve. "These shoulders. So broad. So pretty." She kisses the junction of her neck. "Your skin is so soft."
Ning shivers. You pull your shirt off. Take off your shoes. Unbuckle your belt. Ning watches, her blush deepening, a nervous little laugh escaping her when your pants hit the floor. "A guy and a girl at the same time. Wow."
"Get used to it," Minjeong murmurs against her neck. "I have a feeling you're going to get addicted."
You're down to your underwear now. You lean in and kiss Ning again, your tongue sliding against hers. Behind her, Minjeong's mouth works along Ning's neck, sucking gently, and Ning melts between the two of you. Trapped. Surrounded. Four hands roaming her body (yours tracing her collarbone, her ribs, the dip of her waist; Minjeong's sliding up her stomach, thumbs brushing the underside of her bra). Then Minjeong turns Ning's chin and the three of you meet in the middle, all tongue, breath and wet contact, mouths overlapping in a messy, three-way kiss that falls apart into smiles and reconnects again.
Minjeong taps Ning's hip. "Move up for me."
She shifts to the center of the bed, pulling Ning with her, and lays her down against the pillows. Ning's hair fans out dark against the white sheets. Minjeong reaches behind Ning's back and unclasps her bra with one hand, sliding it off her arms. Then her panties, peeled down slowly, Ning lifting her hips again, and then she's completely bare.
Minjeong stares, her gaze traveling down Ning's body with worship and hunger simultaneously. "You're so beautiful. Fuck, you're even more perfect than I imagined."
Minjeong pulls her own tank top off in one fluid motion. The shorts follow, kicked off the edge of the bed. No underwear (of course). She kneels beside Ning, fully naked, and reaches down between her own legs. Her fingers spread her pussy open, showing Ning. Swollen, pink, glistening wet, her clit hard and visible.
"See this? This is what you do to me. I've been like this since you walked in the door." She holds herself open, letting Ning look. "You have to take responsibility."
Ning's eyes are fixed between Minjeong's thighs. Her tongue darts across her lower lip. "I'll do anything."
"Lie flat for me." Ning obeys. Flat on her back, arms at her sides, chest rising and falling rapidly.
Minjeong swings one leg over Ning's head and settles her knees on either side. “If you want me to stop, tap my thigh twice,” Minjeong tells her. Ning nods in agreement. She lowers herself slowly, her wet pussy hovering inches above Ning's mouth, thighs framing that perfect face. Ning's hands come up to grip Minjeong's hips, pulling her down, and then her mouth is on her. Minjeong's breath punches out of her chest. Her spine straightens. Her fingers find the headboard for balance.
You settle between Ning's spread legs, lying on your stomach, and lower your mouth to her cunt. She's soaked, thoroughly, completely soaked, her inner thighs already slick. You drag your tongue flat from her entrance to her clit and she moans directly into Minjeong's pussy, the vibration making Minjeong gasp above her.
Minjeong is facing you, looking directly down the length of Ning's trembling body and into your eyes while you eat her out. Her pupils are blown wide. Her lips are parted. She rolls her hips against Ning's tongue and watches you work between those gorgeous thighs.
Ning's tongue drags flat against Minjeong's slit, tentative at first, tasting her, learning the landscape. You watch it happen from between Ning's thighs. Minjeong's face shifts from composed to fractured in a single breath, her grip on the headboard tightening, knuckles going pale. She exhales through her nose, slow and controlled, trying to hold her composure the way she always does when something feels too good too fast.
"Slower," Minjeong instructs, settling her weight down just a fraction more. "Take your time with me."
Ning adjusts. Her tongue narrows, tracing the outer edges of Minjeong's lips in long, patient strokes, avoiding the clit entirely, teasing without knowing she's teasing. Or maybe she does know. Her fingers grip Minjeong's thighs for purchase, thumbs dimpling the soft skin.
You lower your mouth back to Ning's cunt, deliciously wet now, her arousal smeared across her inner thighs, her lips swollen and flushed dark pink. You flatten your tongue against her clit and hold there, just pressure, no movement, letting her feel the heat of your mouth. Her hips twitch upward. You pull back an inch. She whines into Minjeong's pussy, and the vibration makes Minjeong's spine curve.
"She's good at this," Minjeong murmurs, more to herself than to you. Her hips roll forward, a slow grind against Ning's mouth, coating her chin, her cheeks. "Such a good mouth. Such a pretty, eager little mouth."
You circle Ning's clit with the tip of your tongue. Tight circles, building sensation, then you pull away completely. Kiss her inner thigh instead. Ning's legs tremble. Her hips chase your mouth and find nothing.
That's the game. You've played it before with Minjeong (she taught you, actually, during one of those early sessions where she sat you down and explained exactly how she wanted to be tortured). Build the pressure. Take it away. Build it higher. Take it away again. Make the body so desperate for release that when it finally comes, it breaks something. Ning is already responding to it. Every time you return to her clit, she's more sensitive, more reactive. Her thighs shake when your lips close around the swollen bud. Her hips buck when you suck gently. And every reaction feeds directly into Minjeong through her mouth, because Ning can't separate what she's receiving from what she's giving.
Minjeong grinds down harder. The restraint is gone now. She's using Ning's face, rocking her hips in steady, selfish rolls that drag her clit across Ning's tongue with each pass. Her pussy is leaving streaks of wetness across Ning's chin, her cheeks, the bridge of her nose. Ning takes all of it, mouth open, tongue working, breathing through her nose in short bursts between Minjeong's thighs.
"You're doing so well," Minjeong pants. She reaches down and pushes Ning's hair back from her forehead. "My perfect little slut. You were made for this, weren't you?" Ning moans her agreement into Minjeong's cunt, and Minjeong's eyes roll back for a second before she catches herself.
You slide two fingers into Ning. Slow, curling upward, pressing against her front wall while your tongue works her clit in lazy, unpredictable patterns. She's so wet your fingers meet no resistance, just the tight, hot grip of her walls clenching around you as you push deeper. You pump into her a few times, steady, feeling her pulse around your knuckles, then pull out entirely.
Ning's hips lift off the mattress, searching. Her thighs clamp around your head. You pry them apart gently and blow cool air across her soaked pussy, watching the muscles in her stomach jump. "Please," she gasps into Minjeong, smothered between Minjeong's thighs, but you both hear it.
You press your tongue flat against her clit again and hold. No movement. Just heat, pressure and the promise of more. Her legs start shaking.
Above her, Minjeong is losing her rhythm. The controlled grinding has dissolved into something needier, less precise, her hips stuttering and jerking against Ning's mouth. "Make me cum," Minjeong breathes. "Right now. Make me cum, Ning."
Ning's hands slide up from Minjeong's thighs to her ass. She grabs both cheeks, fingers digging into the flesh, and pulls Minjeong down hard against her face. Her tongue pushes inside. Not against the clit, not teasing the entrance. Inside. Deep, as far as she can reach, curling and stroking Minjeong's walls while her nose presses against Minjeong's clit.
Minjeong shatters. Her whole body seizes. Her head drops back, tendons standing out in her neck, mouth open, a long, broken moan tearing out of her chest. Her hips grind down in tight, frantic circles against Ning's face, riding the orgasm out on her tongue, her pussy clenching and releasing in visible pulses. Wetness floods Ning's chin, her neck, pooling in the hollow of her throat. Minjeong shakes through it for what feels like a full minute, her grip on the headboard the only thing keeping her upright, wave after wave rolling through her until she's gasping and oversensitive and trembling.
She lifts herself off Ning's face on unsteady knees. Ning lies beneath her, mouth and chin and cheeks glazed with Minjeong's arousal, chest heaving, lips puffy and swollen and glistening. And she's close. You can feel it in the way her pussy clenches around your fingers (you've slid them back inside during Minjeong's orgasm, three now, curling rhythmically against that spongey spot while your thumb traces circles around her clit). Her legs are shaking uncontrollably. Her abs are taut. She's right there, right on the edge, teetering.
"Please," Ning whimpers, looking up at Minjeong with glassy, desperate eyes. "Please, I need to, I'm so close, please let me."
Minjeong slides off to the side, settling next to Ning, propped on one elbow. She runs a finger along Ning's jaw, collecting some of her own wetness, and pushes it between Ning's lips. "You'll cum when I tell you."
"Please, Minjeong, I can't, I need it."
"You can hold it." She strokes Ning's hair, calm and collected now, fully back in control despite the fact that she was just falling apart thirty seconds ago. "Be a good girl for me."
You pump your fingers steadily inside Ning, curling on every outstroke, your thumb maintaining constant pressure on her clit. Her walls flutter around your knuckles in desperate, involuntary spasms. Her fists grip the sheets so hard the fabric bunches. Every muscle in her body is locked.
"Minjeong," Ning begs again. Tears are forming at the corners of her eyes, not from pain but from the sheer intensity of holding back. "I'll do anything. I'll be so good. I'll be your good girl, I promise, please, I'm begging you."
Minjeong watches her for a long, cruel moment. Then she leans down, presses her lips to Ning's ear, and whispers, "Cum for me."
Your thumb presses down hard on Ning's clit and your fingers drive deep and curl. Ning screams. Not a moan, not a gasp. A full, raw, wrecked scream that tears out of her throat as her back arches completely off the mattress, her pussy clamping down on your fingers so tight it almost hurts. Her thighs slam shut around your hand. Her whole body convulses, rhythmic, violent contractions that shake her from her core outward, and she keeps screaming through it, broken fragments of Minjeong's name and and sounds that aren't language anymore.
You work her through it until she collapses, boneless and twitching, her legs falling open, your fingers still buried inside her pulsing cunt.
Minjeong turns to you. "Clean her face."
You pull your fingers out of Ning and move up the bed. Her face is a mess. Minjeong's juices coating her chin, her cheeks, the sides of her nose, drying in sticky trails. You lean down and drag your tongue from her jaw to her cheekbone, collecting the taste of Minjeong off Ning's skin. Across her chin. Along her upper lip. The corner of her mouth. You gather all of it on your tongue, every slick, musky trace, then you press your mouth to Ning's and push it all inside. Your tongue slides against hers, feeding her Minjeong's arousal, and Ning moans into the kiss, her hands coming up weakly to grip your face.
When you pull back, Ning's eyes are unfocused and completely gone. "Daddy," she whispers.
Minjeong's eyebrows lift. She looks at you. You look at her. A charged, knowing glance passes between you. "On your knees," Minjeong tells Ning, shifting back into something commanding and absolute. "On the floor. You're going to suck his cock now."
Ning slides off the bed like her bones are made of liquid, settling onto her knees on the carpet, looking up at both of you with that ruined, beautiful, cum-stained face and waiting.
Ning wraps her fingers around your shaft. She doesn't put it in her mouth right away. Instead, she tilts her head and presses the length of it against her cheek, dragging it slowly across her skin, her jaw, the corner of her lips. Her eyes close. She nuzzles against it like it's something precious, the warm weight of your cock resting against that gorgeous face, and she exhales through her nose, content.
"Look at her," Minjeong says from the edge of the bed, legs crossed, leaning forward on her elbows. "She didn't even need to be told. Show us how much of a slut you really are, Ning."
Ning drags your cock across her other cheek, leaving a faint streak of precum glistening on her skin. She opens her eyes and looks up at Minjeong, searching for approval, and presses her lips to the underside of the shaft in a long, lazy kiss.
Then she takes you in. No teasing, no tentative licks. She parts her lips and slides you into her mouth, her tongue pressing flat against the underside, cheeks hollowing as she sucks you in to the halfway point. Warm, wet, tight. Her lips seal around the shaft and she pulls back slowly, then pushes forward again, finding a rhythm.
Minjeong leans back on her palms, watching with fascinated eyes. "Get it nice and wet for me. Every inch. That cock is going inside your little pussy next, so you better make sure it's ready." Ning moans around your shaft. The vibration rolls through you and your hand finds the top of her head, fingers threading into her hair. She bobs steadily, saliva building around her lips, coating you, making everything slick and messy.
"You know what's funny," Minjeong continues, conversational. "I've seen every single photo on your Instagram. Every one. That mirror selfie in the white dress? The bikini shots? That gym story where the seam of your shorts was sitting right between your pussy lips?"
Ning's rhythm falters for a second. She pulls off your cock, a string of spit connecting her lower lip to the head, and looks at Minjeong with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. "You saw that?"
"I screenshot it. You knew exactly what you were doing when you posted it. Little tease. Showing off that body, those curves, hoping someone would notice." Minjeong tilts her head. "Well, someone noticed."
Ning licks her lips, tasting the mix of saliva and precum. "I am a tease."
"You're more than a tease. You're a slut who posts thirst traps at midnight hoping someone will come put her in her place." Minjeong's voice is fond and cruel at the same time, a combination only she can pull off. "And here you are. On your knees. Drooling on a cock. Exactly where you belong."
"Exactly where I belong," Ning repeats.
She takes you back in her mouth, pushing past the halfway point, her throat opening up as she works more of you inside. Her hand wraps around the base, stroking what her mouth can't reach, spit running down her fingers.
"Tell me something," Minjeong says, sliding off the bed and kneeling beside Ning on the floor. She tucks a strand of hair behind Ning's ear, gentle, then traces her thumb across Ning's stretched lower lip where it meets your shaft. "What do you prefer? Pussy or dick?"
Ning pulls off with a wet sound. She jerks you slowly while she answers, her fist slick and tight. "I can't decide."
"Pick one."
"I can't." She rubs the head of your cock against her parted lips while she talks, smearing spit and precum across her mouth. "I want both. Together. At the same time. Fucking me."
Minjeong face shifts into a look of predatory delight. "Both at once. Greedy little thing. I bet you'd give up all your holes if we asked. Pussy, mouth, ass. Every single one."
Ning nods without hesitation. "Every one. All of them. I'd let you use all of me."
"Say it properly."
Ning's eyes lock onto Minjeong's. "I'd give you every hole I have. Both of you. However you want. Whenever you want. I'm yours."
Minjeong strokes her cheek kindly. Then she gathers Ning's hair into a fist at the back of her head and pulls, firm enough to tilt her face upward. "Open."
Ning opens her mouth. Minjeong guides her head forward, pushing your cock between those swollen lips, controlling the depth, the angle, the speed. Slow at first. She pulls Ning down to the midpoint, holds her there for two seconds, then lets her come back up.
"Deeper," Minjeong instructs. She pushes Ning further. Three-quarters. You feel the head of your cock brush the back of her throat and Ning's hands grip your thighs, steadying herself. Her eyes water. She breathes through her nose, adjusting.
"All of it." Minjeong's fist tightens in Ning's hair. "Take the whole thing. Gag on it for me."
She pushes Ning all the way down. Your cock slides past the resistance of her throat and Ning chokes, her whole body lurching, spit flooding around the shaft and dripping from her chin. But she doesn't pull away. Her fingers dig into your thighs and she holds herself there, throat constricting around you in tight, involuntary spasms. Tears bead at the corners of her eyes, catching the light.
Minjeong holds her in place for three seconds. Four. Five. Then pulls her off by the hair. Ning gasps, a thick rope of saliva stretching from your cock to her lips before it breaks and drops onto her chest. Her mascara has started to run, thin dark tracks beneath her lower lashes.
"Good girl," Minjeong purrs, wiping Ning's chin with her thumb. "Look at you. So messy already."
She pushes Ning back down. Faster this time, setting a rhythm with her fist in Ning's hair, fucking her face onto your cock with controlled, merciless strokes. Ning takes it. Her throat opens and closes around the head on every downstroke, spit bubbling at the corners of her mouth, dripping off her chin in thick, translucent strings that land on her tits, her collarbones, the floor between her knees.
"This is what all those Instagram photos were really about," Minjeong tells her between strokes, pulling her up for air then shoving her back down. "Every posed selfie, every tight dress, every lip bite. You were advertising. Begging someone to see through the pretty packaging and find the desperate little cockslut underneath."
She pulls Ning off. Ning coughs, gasps, saliva coating her entire lower face. Her lips are swollen and red, her chin is a mess, and her eyes are glassy with tears that haven't quite fallen. "Thank you," Ning rasps.
Minjeong cradles her jaw, tilts her face up, and studies the damage with open admiration. Ruined makeup, spit-slicked skin, puffy lips trembling with exertion. A masterpiece in progress.
"We're just getting started," Minjeong tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead that is somehow tender considering the circumstances. "Keep drooling over that dick," Minjeong tells Ning, giving her hair one last stroke before standing up. "I need to get something."
She pads across the room to the dresser, bare feet on hardwood, and pulls open the second drawer. You hear her rummage for a moment, pushing things aside with purpose. Ning stays on her knees, her fist wrapped loosely around your shaft, stroking in slow, absent movements while she watches Minjeong's back. Saliva still drips from her chin in lazy strings. The bell hasn't arrived yet and she's already waiting like something trained.
Minjeong turns around holding a strip of black leather. Thin, elegant, with a small silver buckle and a tiny bell dangling from a ring at the front. She walks back with it draped across both palms, presenting it like a jeweler showing a necklace.
"Look at you," she says softly, stopping in front of Ning. Her gaze travels down from Ning's tear-streaked face to the spit glistening on her chest, the swollen lips, the collar of bruises already forming on her knees from the hard floor. "Kneeling there, serving both of us. Makeup ruined. Drool everywhere. You look like a perfect little pet."
"She really does," you agree.
Minjeong crouches to Ning's level. "Tell me what you want to be."
Ning's eyes drop to the collar, then rise back to Minjeong's face. "A kitten."
Minjeong's breath catches. The momentary crack in the dom facade where the girl who hid behind a fern forty minutes ago surfaces and can't believe this is actually happening. A goonette fantasy becoming real. Then she blinks and it's gone. "That's the perfect answer." She unfastens the buckle, opens the collar wide. "I have exactly what you need to be a proper domesticated kitten."
She reaches forward and wraps the leather around Ning's throat. Gentle, careful, adjusting the fit so it sits snug but not tight, the cool metal of the bell resting in the hollow between her collarbones. She threads the leather through the buckle and pulls it closed.
"What do you think?" Minjeong asks, looking up at you.
"Looks perfect on her." You tilt your head, studying the way the black leather contrasts against Ning's skin, the way the little bell catches the lamplight. "You told me you'd been saving that for someone special. Seems like you finally found her."
Ning smiles when she hears that. Minjeong cups Ning's face with one hand, running her thumb across her lower lip, smearing the mess of spit and precum that's collected there. Ning's tongue darts out and licks the pad of Minjeong's thumb, maintaining eye contact. Like an obedient kitten lapping at her owner's hand.
"So cute," Minjeong whispers. She traces the ruined tracks of mascara under Ning's eyes, the smudged eyeliner, the foundation that's gone patchy from tears and spit. "So beautiful like this. All ruined. You know what I want? I want you to always wear makeup when we have sex. Full face. So I can watch it fall apart piece by piece. Watch you go from perfect to wrecked."
"Yes, Minjeong."
"Meow for me."
Ning doesn't hesitate. She tilts her chin up, the bell jingling softly, and lets out a small, sweet meow. Breathy and earnest and completely without irony. Minjeong giggles. An actual, genuine, delighted giggle that breaks through the dominant composure entirely. She covers her mouth with one hand and laughs, eyes crinkling. "Oh my god. You actually did it. I can't believe you actually did it." Ning smiles up at her, proud, the bell swaying against her throat. "So obedient." Minjeong smooths herself back into control, the grin turning firm. "Go to bed, kitten."
Ning rises (legs a little unsteady, knees red from the floor) and climbs onto the mattress, settling on her back against the pillows. The bell chimes with every movement she makes. Minjeong crosses the room again, this time to a different drawer. You sit on the edge of the bed beside Ning and rest your hand on her calf, running your thumb along the muscle there. She looks at you with those big, glassy, wrecked eyes.
"You feeling okay?"
She lets out a nervous little laugh, the bell jingling as her chest moves. "I've never felt so many things at once. I'm nervous and excited and my brain is like... short-circuiting? In a good way. In a really, really good way."
"You were born for this."
She stares at the ceiling, a bewildered smile spreading across her face. "And to think I was going to spend tonight watching Gossip Girl again. For the fourth time. I was on season three."
"Ning, this is objectively a better use of your evening."
"So much better," she agrees, still smiling at the ceiling like she can't quite believe her own life.
Minjeong reappears at the bedside. In one hand, a pair of padded handcuffs (black leather, matching the collar, because Kim Minjeong is nothing if not aesthetically coordinated). In the other, a tube of lipstick. Deep red, almost burgundy.
She climbs onto the bed with the fluid confidence of someone who has orchestrated this exact type of scenario before (even if never with someone she actually had feelings for). She straddles Ning's waist, takes both her wrists, and guides them above her head. The handcuffs loop through a slat in the headboard and click shut around each wrist with a snap. Ning tugs once, testing. Secure.
"The collar is a good start," Minjeong says, settling her weight on Ning's hips and uncapping the lipstick. "But it's not enough. You're a kitten with owners now, and kittens need to be marked so everyone knows who they belong to."
She presses the lipstick to Ning's stomach. The tip is cool against warm skin, and Ning flinches slightly, her abs tensing, the bell chiming from the movement. Minjeong writes in slow strokes across that flat, taut canvas. Each letter precise. When she finishes, she leans back to admire her work.
CUM DUMP. Bold, red, slightly smeared at the edges where Ning's breathing made her stomach rise and fall.
"Perfect," Minjeong murmurs. She looks at you. "What do you think?"
"I was going to suggest something but anything I wrote would sound incredibly sexist coming from me, so I'm glad you took creative control."
"Haha, very funny." She caps the lipstick and tosses it aside, then looks down at Ning. "Do you agree with what it says?"
Ning cranes her neck to read it upside down. The bell jingles. Her cheeks flush even darker than they already were, but she nods. "Yes. That's me."
"Good girl." Minjeong runs her fingertips along Ning's sides, feeling the goosebumps rise in their wake. "Obviously, she still needs more marks. Look at this skin." She pinches Ning's hip lightly and a pink spot blooms instantly on the pale flesh. "So fair. So sensitive. Every touch is going to leave a trace. It'll be easy for you to turn her all red."
She climbs off Ning and settles beside her, one hand possessively resting on Ning's collared throat, thumb stroking the leather. She looks at you with that dark, commanding certainty that has no business existing in the same person who said "day nice you" to this girl three months ago. "Fuck her tight little pussy. Make her scream.”
You obey without hesitation, settling between Ning's spread thighs, her legs draped over yours, the handcuffs clinking softly against the headboard slat as she shifts. The bell on her collar chimes. The red lipstick letters on her stomach rise and fall with her breathing. You grip the base of your cock, still slick from her throat, and drag the head along her slit. She's drenched, swollen, her pussy lips parting easily under the pressure, and Ning's entire body tenses in anticipation, her wrists pulling against the cuffs.
You push inside her. Slow. Inch by inch. The heat is staggering, tight and wet and gripping you like a fist, her walls clenching around the shaft as you sink deeper. Ning's head drops back against the pillow and her mouth falls open, the bell jingling as her throat works around a soundless gasp. You bottom out, hips flush against hers, and hold there. Let her feel the fullness. Let her adjust to being stretched around you while handcuffed and collared and marked with lipstick on a bed that still smells like the sex you had with Minjeong an hour ago.
Minjeong, meanwhile, has moved. She's propped against the headboard beside Ning, one leg bent, the other extended, and she's rummaging through the nightstand without looking (because she knows the layout of that drawer by muscle memory at this point). Her hand emerges with a small, matte black vibrator, compact and curved. She clicks it on, the low hum filling the room, and presses it between her own legs with a satisfied sigh. She spreads herself open with two fingers and nestles the tip directly against her clit, her thighs falling apart, and settles in to watch.
"Tell me what she feels like," Minjeong says. "I want details."
You pull back halfway and thrust in again, a deep, measured stroke that makes Ning's back arch off the mattress. "Tight. Really fucking tight. Tighter than you."
"Obviously. I've been broken in. She hasn't." Minjeong adjusts the angle of the vibrator and her breath stutters for a second. "What else?"
"Wet. She's dripping. I can feel it running down my balls." You thrust again, establishing a slow, grinding rhythm, pulling nearly all the way out before sliding back in to the hilt. Ning's pussy grips you on every outstroke like it doesn't want to let go. "And hot. She's burning up inside."
"Hear that, Ning?" Minjeong turns her head to look down at her. Ning's face is flushed, eyes half-shut, lips parted around shallow breaths, the tear tracks of ruined mascara still visible on her cheeks. "Your desperate little cunt is putting on quite a performance."
Ning's hips roll up to meet your next thrust and a moan spills out of her, unguarded and raw. "It feels so good."
"Yeah?"
"So good. Oh my god." Her wrists strain against the cuffs as she tries to reach for you and can't. The bell jingles with every movement, a constant, delicate accompaniment to the wet sounds of you fucking her. "I can feel all of you. Every inch."
You lean forward, changing the angle, pressing deeper, and Ning's eyes snap open. You grab her hip with one hand, anchoring her, and set a rhythm that's firm and constant, each stroke bottoming out, grinding against her cervix before pulling back.
"I bet she'd love having two cocks in her," Minjeong says, pressing the vibrator harder against her clit, her free hand gripping the sheet beside her thigh. "Mine and yours. Both stuffed inside that greedy little hole at the same time. Stretching her open until she couldn't think straight."
Ning's breath catches. She turns her head toward Minjeong, and even through the haze of pleasure there's something uncertain in her expression. "I don't... I don't think two would fit in me."
Minjeong snorts a soft, ruthless laugh, pure dismissal. "We'd make it fit. We'd go slow and work you open and push inside together and you'd take it because that's what dumb little cum dumps do. They take whatever gets shoved inside them and say thank you." You punctuate her point with a particularly hard thrust and Ning cries out, her voice pitching high, bouncing off the bedroom walls.
"Careful," Minjeong purrs, circling the vibrator in slow patterns against herself, her own arousal glistening on the toy. "The neighbors are going to hear you. What will they think of sweet, innocent Ning from apartment 71? The nice new girl with the pretty smile who waves in the hallway? Moaning like a little slut in heat for two people she met tonight." She tilts her head, studying Ning's mortified, aroused expression. "What do you think Mrs. Park next door would say if she could hear you right now? She brings you fruit baskets, doesn't she? Sweet old lady. Probably thinks you're such a wholesome young woman. If only she could see you handcuffed and collared with CUM DUMP written across your belly and a cock buried in your soaking wet pussy."
Ning whimpers, flushing from her cheeks all the way down her chest, the embarrassment and the arousal tangling together until they're indistinguishable. You feel her cunt clench around you, tighter, wetter, her body responding to the humiliation even as her face burns with shame. You keep fucking her. Steady, controlled strokes, each one dragging your shaft along her front wall, each one forcing a small, involuntary sound from her throat. The bell hasn't stopped chiming. The handcuffs rattle against the headboard in rhythm with your thrusts. The red lipstick on her stomach is starting to smear where your hand grips her hip, the M in DUMP bleeding into a crimson streak across her skin.
Minjeong's gaze drifts to the floor. She spots her own shorts. She clicks the vibrator off, sets it aside, and leans over the edge of the bed to pick them up. She examines them for a second, turning them inside out, finding the crotch panel. Even from where you are, you can see the damp patch.
"Open your mouth," Minjeong tells Ning. Ning obeys, lips parting, and Minjeong presses the wet patch of fabric directly against her nose and mouth. Ning inhales and her eyes roll back, a full-body shudder running through her, her pussy clamping down on you so hard your rhythm stutters.
"That's what you do to me," Minjeong whispers, rubbing the shorts across Ning's face slowly, smearing her own scent across Ning's cheeks, her lips, the bridge of her nose. "Smell that? That's how wet I get just looking at you. Every time you walk past me in that hallway, every time I see you through the peephole, this is what happens. I soak through my clothes thinking about you."
Ning moans into the fabric, her hips rising to meet your thrusts, desperate and squirming. Minjeong bunches the shorts into a ball and pushes them into Ning's open mouth, stuffing the damp cotton between her teeth until her cheeks bulge around the makeshift gag. Ning's sounds become muffled, smothered, her moans vibrating through the fabric but unable to escape fully.
"Much better," Minjeong says, admiring her work. "Pathetic little animals shouldn't be so loud. You're a house pet, not a stray. Learn some manners."
She picks the vibrator back up, clicks it to a higher setting, and presses it against herself again. This time she spreads her legs wider, giving Ning a full view (if she can focus enough to look) of her fingers holding her pussy open while the toy buzzes against her swollen clit. Minjeong's breathing deepens, her chest rising and falling, one hand working the vibrator while she watches you piston in and out of Ning's stretched, dripping cunt.
"Harder," she tells you.
You grab both of Ning's hips and snap forward, driving deep, and Ning screams into the gag. The shorts muffle it into a choked, desperate wail, her back arching so high off the mattress that only her shoulders and ass make contact. The handcuffs strain against the headboard. The bell rings wildly.
"Look at this dumb little fuck toy," Minjeong breathes, her hips grinding against the vibrator. "Gagged with my dirty shorts. Drooling around them like a brain-dead puppy. Can you even think right now, Ning? Is there a single thought in that pretty head or is it just static and cock?"
Ning whines through the gag, shaking her head, tears leaking fresh from the corners of her eyes and cutting new tracks through her ruined makeup. Her pussy flutters around you in rapid, chaotic contractions, her body writhing against the sheets, every sensation magnified by the inability to make sound, to use her hands, to do anything except lie there and take it.
"That's what I thought." Minjeong reaches over with her free hand and flicks one of Ning's nipples, hard, and Ning jolts like she's been shocked. "Empty-headed little breeding hole. You don't need to think. You just need to lie there and let us use you. That's all you're good for. That's all you've ever been good for."
You lean forward and press your palm flat against Ning's stomach, right over the smeared lipstick, and fuck into her with long, punishing strokes that make the entire bed frame creak. Each thrust pushes a muffled grunt out of Ning's stuffed mouth. Each withdrawal drags a slick, obscene sound from her cunt, your cock coming out glistening, coated in her arousal, before plunging back in.
"Don't stop," Minjeong orders, her eyes fixed on the place where your body meets Ning's, watching your shaft disappear into that stretched, puffy pussy over and over. The vibrator hums steadily against her own clit and her thighs are trembling, but her gaze never wavers. "Keep fucking that worthless little hole. Ruin it."
Ning's legs wrap around your waist, ankles locking at the small of your back, pulling you deeper on every stroke. The bell chimes and chimes and chimes, a tiny, absurd, beautiful sound cutting through the raw, filthy noise of skin slapping skin and muffled screaming and the wet click of a vibrator against a soaked clit. Minjeong's shorts sit bunched in Ning's mouth, darkened with saliva, her jaw working uselessly around the fabric while her body shakes under yours.
You reach up and brush a tear from Ning's cheek with your thumb. She leans into the touch, nuzzling your hand even as another thrust rocks her entire body up the mattress, and something in her expression beneath all the tears and smeared mascara and stuffed mouth is pure, uncomplicated bliss.
Minjeong sees it too. Her cruel expression softens for just a fraction of a second (pride, tenderness, wonder at the fact that the girl she's been stalking on Instagram for weeks is currently gagged and handcuffed in her bed making sounds like a wounded animal). Then the mask clicks back into place.
"Good girl," she murmurs, and the vibrator hums louder against her.
You tighten your grip on Ning's hips and drive forward, harder than before, the slap of your pelvis against her ass echoing through the bedroom. Your fingers dig into the soft flesh at her waist, pressing deep enough that the skin blanches white around your fingertips before flooding pink when you shift your hold. Each thrust rocks her up the mattress an inch, the handcuffs clanking against the headboard in a metallic staccato, the bell on her collar singing its constant little song.
"That's it," Minjeong breathes from beside you, the vibrator pressed snug between her legs, her thighs glistening. She's watching the place where your cock disappears into Ning with an almost clinical fascination, her free hand gripping her own thigh. "Fuck her good. Really good. I bet you're loving that, aren't you? That wet, warm, tight little pussy gripping your cock so well."
"She's squeezing me every time I pull out."
"Of course she is. Desperate little hole doesn't want to let go." Minjeong shifts the vibrator's angle against her clit and her abs clench. "Her body knows what it's for even if her brain hasn't caught up yet."
You increase the pace again, snapping your hips forward with enough force that the bed frame groans against the wall. Your hands on Ning's hips are leaving marks now, red fingerprints blooming on her pale skin like stamps, and you watch them appear and darken with each adjustment of your grip. She's going to wear those bruises for a week. Little oval reminders pressed into her flesh that she'll see every time she showers, every time she changes, every time she catches herself in a mirror.
Minjeong leans over and spits on Ning's chest. A thick glob that lands between her tits and slides slowly down toward her sternum, mixing with the smeared red lipstick. "Dirty slut."
Ning's muffled shriek through the gag is somewhere between protest and ecstasy. Her hips buck up against yours, chasing the impact, her body arching into the degradation like a plant turning toward sunlight. The shorts stuffed in her mouth are soaked through with saliva, her jaw working around the damp cotton, drool leaking from the corners of her lips and running down her chin in thin streams.
"It's so good hearing her like that," Minjeong murmurs, pressing the vibrator harder against herself. "All those little choked sounds. Like a puppy whining through a muzzle." She tilts her head, studying Ning's tear-streaked, gagged, spit-covered face. "But now I want to hear her beg."
Minjeong reaches over and hooks a finger into the bunched fabric, pulling the shorts from Ning's mouth. They come out dark with spit, and Ning gasps, gulping air, her jaw stretching wide to relieve the ache. A thick rope of saliva connects her lower lip to the wadded cotton for a second before it breaks. Minjeong stands. Right there on the mattress, rising to her full height above Ning's prone body, feet planted on either side of her ribcage. Small but towering, naked, the vibrator buzzing at maximum in her hand, pressed hard against her swollen clit. Her pussy is flushed dark, her inner thighs slick with arousal, and she looks down at Ning the way a goddess looks at an offering.
"Beg me," she says. "Beg me to cum all over your body. Ask me to drench you. To bathe you in it. Make it sound delicious, kitten, or I won't give you a single drop."
Ning's face is a wreck. Mascara smeared to her temples, foundation patchy and streaked, lipstick bitten off entirely, her cheeks flushed so deep they're almost purple. She looks up at Minjeong standing above her while you keep fucking her in long, brutal strokes, and the combination of being split open on a cock and staring up at the woman she's been crushing on for three weeks breaks something loose inside her.
"Please," she moans, her wrists pulling uselessly at the cuffs. "Please cum on me, Minjeong. All over me. I want it. I want to feel it. I want to be covered in you, I want it on my face and my tits and my stomach, please, please give it to me, I need it, I need you."
Minjeong's legs tremble. The vibrator hums furiously against her clit, her hand pressing it so hard the skin around it dimples. "Are you a dirty little whore?"
"I'm a dirty little whore."
"Whose dirty little whore?"
"Yours. I'm your dirty little whore, Minjeong, please, please cum on me, mark me, I want to smell like you, I want to taste you, please."
You slam into Ning and she screams, the sound raw and open now that the gag is gone, and Minjeong breaks above her like a dam. It starts with a strangled moan that rips from somewhere deep in Minjeong's chest. Her knees buckle slightly, her thighs clamping together around the vibrator, and then it happens. She cums, hard, and the squirt hits Ning's body in a hot, clear arc. It splashes across her tits first, then her stomach, then her collarbones as Minjeong's hips jerk and pulse, wave after wave of fluid pouring out of her in rhythmic gushes. Minjeong's free hand grabs her own thigh for stability, her mouth open, head thrown back, a long, shattered moan pouring out of her that doesn't sound like the composed, commanding woman who was giving orders thirty seconds ago. It sounds like someone coming undone at a molecular level.
Ning squeals beneath the onslaught, flinching at first as the warm fluid hits her skin, then going still, then opening her mouth. She tilts her chin up and catches the last pulses on her tongue, her lips, her cheeks, letting Minjeong's cum pool in the hollow of her throat and overflow down the sides of her neck. There's so much of it. It runs in rivulets across her ribs, pools in her navel, mingles with the spit and the smeared lipstick until her entire torso is a glistening, dripping mess.
"It's so warm," Ning whispers, eyes wide, almost awed.
You stare. You've seen Minjeong squirt before (on your face, on your chest, once on the kitchen floor by accident), but watching it land on Ning (on that perfect body, in that collared throat, across those parted lips) while you're buried to the hilt inside Ning's cunt is something else entirely. It's the filthiest, hottest, most depraved thing you've ever witnessed in your life, and you know with absolute certainty that this image is going to be burned into your brain until the day you die.
Your composure snaps. "I'm going to cum."
Ning's legs lock around your waist, heels digging into your lower back. "Inside me. I'm on the pill. Please. Inside."
Minjeong drops to her knees on the mattress, still trembling from her own orgasm, and looks at you with glazed, heavy-lidded eyes. "Good girl. Cum inside her. Fill her up."
You bury yourself as deep as you can go, your fingers gripping Ning's marked, bruised hips hard enough to leave fresh prints, and let go. The orgasm tears through you hot and blinding, your cock pulsing inside Ning's clenching pussy, pumping thick ropes of cum against her cervix. Ning's eyes roll back, her lashes fluttering, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp as she feels the heat flood her insides. Her walls clamp down around you in rhythmic, milking contractions, coaxing every drop out of you, and she trembles from head to toe, a soft, broken little moan leaking from her throat that trails off into nothing as her body goes limp beneath yours.
The three of you breathe. Ragged, heavy, out of sync. The vibrator lies abandoned on the sheets, still buzzing faintly. You pull out slowly, carefully, and sit back on your heels. Ning's pussy is swollen and flushed, her lips puffy and parted, and as your cock slides free, a thick trickle of cum follows, oozing from her entrance, dripping down the curve of her ass onto the sheets beneath her.
"Look at her," you murmur, running your gaze across Ning's body. She's glowing. Literally glowing, her skin sheened with Minjeong's juices from collarbone to hip, glistening in the warm light. The remnants of the lipstick letters peek through the mess like a watercolor left in the rain. The collar sits snug against her throat. Her face is ruined and radiant and completely, utterly spent.
Minjeong crawls to the edge of the bed and looks between Ning's legs. She watches the cum leak from that swollen, used pussy, and her tongue drags across her lower lip slowly. "You," she says to you, not taking her eyes off the mess between Ning's thighs, "lick her body clean. Every inch. All of my cum, off every part of her." She settles onto her stomach between Ning's legs, face inches from her dripping cunt. "I'm going to eat yours out of her pussy."
You start at Ning's neck. The hollow of her throat, where Minjeong's juices have pooled against the leather of the collar. Your tongue drags through the warm, slick fluid and Ning giggles, her shoulders scrunching up.
"That tickles." You smile against her skin and keep going. Across her collarbone, tracing the ridge of bone, collecting the taste of Minjeong (familiar to you, musky and slightly sweet) off Ning's body. Down to her chest, your tongue flat against the curve of her breast, circling toward the nipple, lapping up every trace. Ning squirms, the handcuffs rattling, another breathless laugh escaping her as your tongue hits a sensitive spot along her ribs.
Then Minjeong's mouth touches her pussy, and the giggling stops. Ning's entire body goes taut. Her breath catches in her throat and comes back out as a long, trembling sigh that seems to drain every ounce of tension from her muscles. Her head sinks deeper into the pillow. Her eyes close. Her lips part. "Oh," she breathes. "Oh, that's..."
You move lower, licking a path down her stomach, through the ghostly remnants of the lipstick, tasting salt and Minjeong's cum and the warmth of Ning's skin underneath it all. Your tongue dips into her navel, circles it, continues downward along the soft plane below. Meanwhile, you can hear Minjeong working between Ning's thighs, the wet sounds of her tongue lapping at Ning's entrance, scooping your cum out of her, swallowing, going back for more. Ning's hips start to move. Subtle, involuntary rolls, pressing up toward Minjeong's mouth, then settling back, then pressing up again. Her breathing has gone shallow and uneven, little gasps punctuating each exhale, the bell on her collar chiming softly with the motion of her chest.
"Two people," Ning mumbles, her eyes still closed, her head turning to the side on the pillow. "Two people licking me at the same time. This is insane. This is so fucking good."
You work your tongue along the crease where her hip meets her thigh, that sensitive fold of skin, and she shivers beneath you. Minjeong's head bobs gently between Ning's legs, her tongue pushing inside, collecting the last of the cum pooled deep within her, and Ning lets out a sound that's barely human. Low, sustained, vibrating in her chest, the kind of sound someone makes when they've stopped trying to perform and simply surrendered to what their body is feeling.
Her fingers curl into fists above the handcuffs. The bell rings softly, endlessly. Her whole body glows under the lamplight, wet and clean and worshipped, and she melts into the mattress like she's never going to move again.
Minjeong lifts her head from between Ning's thighs, her chin glossy, her lips swollen and shining. She licks the corner of her mouth slowly, savoring, her eyes half-closed like she just tasted something transcendent at a Michelin-star restaurant.
"Your cum," she says to you, running her tongue across her lower lip one more time, "mixed with her juices. It's perfect. It's like they were made to go together. I could eat it out of her for hours."
She presses one final, lingering kiss to Ning's pussy (Ning twitches, oversensitive, a tiny whimper escaping her) and then sits up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "But now." Minjeong crawls up the bed until she's level with Ning's face, looking down at her with that predatory calm. "I need his cock. You've had your turn, kitten."
Ning blinks up at her, dazed and glowing, wrists still locked above her head. "What do I..."
"You're going to stay right there. Handcuffed. Watching me get fucked." Minjeong reaches over to the sheets where the vibrator lies dormant and picks it up, turning it over in her hand. She clicks the base once, twice, three times, cycling through the settings until the hum becomes aggressive. Maximum power. "And this is going to keep you company."
She spreads Ning's thighs apart with one hand. Ning's pussy is puffy and flushed, freshly eaten, still glistening. Minjeong positions the vibrator at her entrance and pushes it inside in one smooth motion. Ning's spine lifts off the mattress, her mouth falling open, a sharp gasp cutting through the room as the toy seats itself deep, buzzing furiously against her walls.
"Oh fuck," Ning breathes, her thighs snapping shut around the vibrator. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck."
"Don't you dare cum," Minjeong tells her, tapping her knee. "Not until I say." She turns away from Ning with the dismissive confidence of someone closing an app and moves to the center of the bed, positioning herself on all fours. Knees apart. Back arched. That narrow waist curving down into the swell of her ass, which is small and tight and perfectly round.
You settle behind her, one hand on her hip, and take a second to appreciate the view. Minjeong's pussy is swollen between her thighs, still flushed from the vibrator and the squirting, her arousal smeared across her inner thighs in glossy streaks. Her shoulder blades jut beneath her skin as she braces on her forearms. The knobs of her spine trace a delicate line down to the small of her back.
"Great ass," you tell her, and bring your palm down on her right cheek with a sharp crack. The sound rings through the bedroom and Minjeong jolts forward, a hiss escaping through her teeth, a pink handprint blooming on her skin before you've even pulled your hand away.
"Flattery will get you everywhere," she mutters over her shoulder. "Now put it in."
You line yourself up and push into her. Different from Ning. Familiar. Minjeong's cunt is wetter than you've ever felt it, still pulsing from the orgasm she had standing above Ning, and she takes you easily, her body opening up around your shaft with practiced ease. She drops her head between her arms and lets out a long, satisfied exhale as you bottom out.
You grab her hips and start moving. Steady, calculated strokes, pulling back until just the tip catches at her entrance and then driving forward, burying yourself deep enough that your hips smack against her ass. Minjeong turns her head to look at Ning. The girl is a wreck already, barely two minutes in. Her wrists twist against the handcuffs, the chain clinking, her hips writhing against the mattress in tight, involuntary circles. The vibrator hums relentlessly inside her, and you can see the tension in her thighs, the way her muscles clench and release and clench again as she fights against the building pressure.
"Are you enjoying the show?" Minjeong asks her, rocking back against your thrusts. "Watching me take his cock while that toy fucks your needy little hole?"
Ning's eyes are locked on the place where your body meets Minjeong's. She watches your cock slide in and out, glistening, stretching Minjeong's pussy around the shaft, and her lips part around a shaky moan. "Yes."
"Of course you are. Horny little slut. Can't go five minutes without stimulation or you start falling apart." Minjeong pushes back against you harder, matching your rhythm, her ass meeting your pelvis with a wet slap on each stroke. "I bet you touch yourself every night in that apartment. Alone in bed with your fingers in your pussy, scrolling through filth on your phone."
Ning whimpers, squirming harder, the bell on her collar ringing with every movement. "Minjeong, you're so beautiful."
The compliment catches Minjeong off guard mid-thrust. Her composure flickers for a second, she pushes her hair out of her face and smiles back at Ning. "You're beautiful too," she says, soft enough to sound sincere. “The prettiest little kitten in the world.” Then she flips the switch: "Now shut up and watch me get fucked."
You grip Minjeong's waist tighter and increase the pace, driving into her with more force, the bed rocking beneath the three of you. Minjeong drops her chest to the mattress, arching her back deeper, changing the angle so you hit that spot inside her that makes her fingers claw at the sheets. Her moans are low and controlled, the sounds of someone who knows exactly what she likes and is getting exactly that.
Ning is losing it. Her legs press together around the vibrator, thighs trembling visibly, her abs clenching in rapid spasms. Sweat glistens on her chest and stomach, mixing with the drying residue of everything that's already been spilled on her tonight. Her breathing has gone ragged, shallow, desperate little pants that hitch and stutter every few seconds. "Minjeong," she gasps. "I don't... I don't know how much longer I can hold on."
"You'll hold on as long as I tell you to hold on."
"Please. It's so much. It's right there, it's right there and I can't, I'm trying so hard to be good."
"Then try harder."
A tear spills down Ning's cheek, cutting a fresh track through the ruined mascara. Her whole body is shaking now, vibrating almost as intensely as the toy inside her, every muscle locked in a war between obedience and biology. You bring your palm down on Minjeong's ass again, lighter this time, playful, and she glances back at you over her shoulder. "You're being pretty mean to your new girlfriend."
"It's nothing. She needs to learn good manners from the start. You don't spoil a pet the first day you bring it home. You establish boundaries. You establish who's in charge." She clenches around you intentionally, her pussy gripping your shaft, and grins. "She'll thank me later."
Ning turns her tear-streaked face toward you. Those big, dark, beautiful eyes swimming with desperation, her lower lip trembling, the collar sitting snug against her throat with its little bell catching the light. She looks wrecked and gorgeous and absolutely at her limit.
"Please," she says to you, quiet and broken. "Please make her cum. Quickly. I can't hold it. Please, please, I'm begging you."
You look at those teary eyes and that quivering lip and your heart just squeezes. You lean forward over Minjeong's back, your mouth close to her ear. "No problem, princess."
You grab both of Minjeong's arms, pulling them back behind her. Her chest drops, her cheek pressing flat against the mattress, her spine bowing into a deep, sharp arch. She yelps at the sudden shift, her shoulders straining, her body completely at your mercy with her wrists locked in your grip behind her back.
You start fucking her hard. Not the measured strokes from before. This is punishing. Brutal. Your hips snap forward with everything you have, slamming into Minjeong's pussy. The slap of skin on skin is deafening, drowning out the buzz of the vibrator, drowning out the rattle of Ning's handcuffs. Minjeong's moans dissolve into sharp, staccato cries, each one punched out of her by the impact of your hips against her ass, her body jolting forward with every thrust and being yanked back by the grip on her wrists.
The bed creaks dangerously. Ning writhes beside you both, tears streaming freely now, her teeth sinking into her lower lip hard enough to leave marks, every ounce of her willpower focused on the single task of not letting go while the vibrator destroys her from the inside. Her thighs clamp together and release and clamp again, her hips bucking against nothing, the bell ringing wildly with every spasm.
And Minjeong, face pressed to the sheets, arms pinned behind her, being railed from behind with her new pet crying beside her and a bruise forming on her ass in the shape of your hand, lets out a breathless, broken laugh that's equal parts pleasure and disbelief.
"This isn't fair," Minjeong gasps into the mattress. "You two conspired against me. You plotted. This is a coup. This is a hostile takeover of my own bedroom and I won't..."
The rest of the sentence dies in her throat because you slam into her hard enough to shunt her forward on the bed, and what comes out instead is a moan so loud it fills every corner of the room. Her back arches impossibly deep, her shoulder blades pressing together, her fingers flexing uselessly in your grip.
"Say you love my dick."
"I'm not going to..." Another thrust. Her entire body shudders. "That's so... you can't just..."
You pull back to the tip and drive forward again, grinding deep, pressing against that spot inside her that turns her brain to static. Her thighs tremble violently. Her toes curl into the sheets. "Say it."
"I love your dick," she chokes out, and the words dissolve into a ragged moan that she buries in the mattress. "I love your dick, okay, I love it, it's so deep, fuck, I hate you both so much." You don't let up. Each stroke is full and punishing, your hips colliding with her ass, the wet slap of contact filling the bedroom alongside Ning's desperate whimpering and the relentless hum of the vibrator. Minjeong's pussy clenches around you in erratic pulses, her walls fluttering, her body winding tighter and tighter like a spring being cranked past its limit.
Her moans climb in pitch. Her knees slide wider apart on the sheets. She tries to say something (probably another complaint about fairness) but it comes out as nothing, just air and sound, her jaw hanging open, drool pooling on the mattress beneath her cheek. You feel the exact moment it starts. Her pussy locks around your cock in a vice grip, her whole body going rigid, and then the orgasm crashes through her.
She screams. Face down, arms restrained, pinned and filled and wrecked, Kim Minjeong screams into her own sheets while her cunt pulses around you in violent, rhythmic contractions. Her hips buck backwards, grinding against you, riding it out, her spine rolling in waves. You hold her wrists and stay buried deep while she comes apart, letting her pussy milk the length of your shaft through every spasm, every aftershock, every trembling pulse that ripples through her body for what feels like a solid thirty seconds.
When it subsides, you release her arms. They fall to the mattress like dead weight. Minjeong lies face down, breathing in shattered gasps, her skin flushed from her neck to her lower back. She turns her head to the side and blinks once, twice, refocusing on reality. "That," she pants, "was not fair."
"You enjoyed it."
"Irrelevant." She takes one more deep breath, then pushes herself up onto her elbows and looks at Ning. The girl is a disaster. Tears streaming, teeth clenched, every muscle in her body locked in a full-body tremor, the vibrator still buzzing mercilessly inside her. Her thighs are clamped together so tightly her legs are shaking, and her wrists have gone white where they strain against the cuffs. She looks like she's going to shatter.
Minjeong softens. Just a fraction. Just enough. "Okay, kitten. You can cum now."
Ning doesn't even process the words for a second. She stares at Minjeong with glazed, uncomprehending eyes, and then it registers, and then everything she's been holding back for the last ten minutes detonates at once.
Her back arches off the bed so hard the handcuffs wrench against the headboard with a metallic crack. Her mouth opens wide, a raw, wrecked scream tearing from her lungs, and her pussy clamps down on the vibrator and pushes it halfway out as she squirts. It's violent. A forceful gush of clear fluid that arcs from between her clenched thighs, soaking the sheets beneath her, splashing against her own legs, pooling in the creases of the mattress. Her entire body convulses, hips bucking off the bed in sharp, involuntary jerks, the bell on her collar ringing frantically.
Minjeong is right there. She reaches between Ning's legs and presses her palm flat against her pussy, rubbing in firm, circular strokes through the squirt, through the contractions, keeping the pressure steady while Ning convulses beneath her hand. "That's it. Let it all out. Give me everything."
Ning squirts again, a second wave that coats Minjeong's wrist and forearm in warm, slick fluid. Her screams dissolve into broken sobs, her body jerking and twitching, riding the orgasm far past the point of pleasure and into something overwhelming and raw. The vibrator buzzes against Minjeong's palm, trapped between her hand and Ning's pulsing cunt, and Ning's legs kick weakly at the soaked sheets.
When it finally subsides, Ning goes completely limp. Every muscle releases at once, like someone cut her strings. She sinks into the mattress, chest heaving, eyes unfocused, mouth slightly open, tears and sweat and mascara streaking her face. The bell rests silent against her throat for the first time in what feels like hours. She looks demolished. Thoroughly, comprehensively, beautifully ruined.
Minjeong pulls the vibrator out gently (Ning flinches, whimpers, then settles) and clicks it off. She sets it aside and reaches for the handcuffs, producing a small key from the nightstand drawer. She unlocks the left cuff first, then the right, and Ning's arms fall to the mattress like they've forgotten how to be arms. Red marks circle both wrists where the leather pressed into skin.
Minjeong lifts each wrist and presses her lips to the marks. Left, then right. Gentle kisses, barely there, tracing the indentations with her mouth. She doesn't say anything.
Then she stands. She crosses to the dresser and pulls open the top drawer (the one you mentioned to Ning earlier, the strap-on armory). She surveys her options for a moment, selects one with the casual authority of a sommelier choosing a bottle, and steps into the harness. It's matte black, sleek, the silicone cock attached to it a reasonable size (not the biggest in her collection, you know, but enough to make a point). She adjusts the straps around her hips and thighs with efficient movements, tightening buckles, checking the fit, as calm as someone tying their shoes.
She turns back toward the bed. Standing at the foot of it, naked except for the harness, the strap jutting from between her slim hips, hands resting loosely at her sides. She looks at Ning, still spread-eagled and trembling on the soaked sheets, and tilts her head.
"Come here, kitten." Ning lifts her head from the pillow. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused, still drifting somewhere between consciousness and the afterglow of the most intense orgasm of her life. She blinks at Minjeong. Processes the command. Processes the strap-on hanging between Minjeong's legs. Swallows hard. "Crawl."
Ning rolls onto her stomach. Her arms shake as she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees, the bell on her collar jingling with the effort. She's unsteady, swaying slightly, her limbs still trembling from the aftershocks. But she crawls. Slowly, carefully, across the ruined sheets, one hand in front of the other, knees sliding through the wet patches she left behind, moving toward Minjeong at the foot of the bed.
She stops in front of Minjeong. On her hands and knees at the edge of the mattress, eye level with the strap. The bell hangs beneath her chin, swaying gently. Her hair falls in messy curtains around her face. Minjeong reaches down and tilts Ning's chin up with two fingers. Studies her. The smeared makeup, the tear tracks, the swollen lips, the flush that extends from her cheeks down her neck and across her chest. The collar sitting snug against her throat. The faint red marks from the handcuffs circling her wrists.
"You smell like a whore," Minjeong tells her. "Like cum and sweat and pussy. Like someone who spent the last hour being used as a fuck toy by two people she barely knows. You reek of it."
Ning's lips tremble. She doesn't look away.
"Meow for me."
Ning meows. Soft, small, slightly hoarse from all the screaming, the sound catching in her raw throat. The bell jingles as her chin dips with the effort. Minjeong smiles. She strokes Ning's hair once, tucking a matted strand behind her ear. "See this?" She wraps her hand around the shaft of the strap and angles it toward Ning's face, the tip brushing her lower lip. "This is for you. Your job is to worship it. Not suck it, not blow it. Worship it. Like it's the most important thing in your world. Starting now."
Ning's lips part. She extends her tongue and touches it to the underside of the shaft, just below the head, and drags it slowly upward. Her eyes stay locked on Minjeong's. Wide, dark, still glistening with tears, unblinking. She licks a stripe from base to tip, then closes her lips around the head and sinks forward, taking the first few inches into her mouth with reverent, unhurried devotion. No gagging, no desperation. Slow. Her cheeks hollow gently as she sucks, her tongue working the underside, and she never once breaks eye contact with the woman standing above her.
Minjeong's hand settles on top of Ning's head, fingers threading into her damp, tangled hair. She watches her collared kitten worship the strap with an expression you've never seen on her before. Possession, tenderness, hunger, disbelief, all layered on top of each other. Her thumb traces circles on Ning's scalp. The bell chimes softly with each gentle bob of Ning's head. "Good girl," Minjeong whispers. "My good girl.”
Ning takes her time. Her tongue traces the ridge beneath the head of the strap, slowly, mapping the shape of it like she's memorizing every contour. She pulls back and presses her lips to the side of the shaft, kissing down toward the base where silicone meets harness, where she can smell Minjeong's skin underneath, the salt and musk of her. She kisses back up the other side, unhurried, devoted, and when she reaches the tip again she parts her lips and takes it in, sinking forward until her nose nearly touches Minjeong's pelvis.
The bell chimes softly with each subtle bob of her head. Her eyes never leave Minjeong's face. Minjeong watches with parted lips, one hand resting on top of Ning's head, fingers curled loosely in her hair. She's quiet for a while, just breathing, just watching, letting Ning set the pace. The strap pushes against the base plate with each stroke, transferring subtle pressure against Minjeong's clit, and every so often her eyelids flutter at the contact.
"You look so pretty with a cock in your mouth," Minjeong murmurs, brushing a strand of damp hair away from Ning's face. "Like you were designed for it."
Ning hums around the shaft, grateful, and takes it deeper. Spit is building around her lips, coating the silicone in a slick sheen, dripping from her chin in slow threads that land on the sheets between her hands.
Then Minjeong's grip tightens. Her fingers twist into a fist at the back of Ning's skull, and the gentle resting hand becomes something controlling. She holds Ning's head still and rolls her hips forward, pushing the strap deeper into Ning's mouth. A test. Ning gags slightly, her throat constricting, but she doesn't pull back. She breathes through her nose and relaxes her jaw and takes it.
"Good," Minjeong breathes. She pulls back and thrusts forward again, a little harder. "Stay right there."
She starts fucking Ning's throat. Slow at first, measured strokes that push the strap past Ning's tongue and into the tight resistance of her throat, holding for a beat, then withdrawing. Each thrust draws a thick, wet gurgling sound from Ning's mouth, saliva flooding around the shaft, bubbling at the corners of her lips. Minjeong increases the pace gradually, her hips finding a rhythm, her fist in Ning's hair controlling the angle and the depth.
Ning takes it. Her hands grip the edge of the mattress for balance, her collared throat working around the intrusion, her eyes streaming with reflexive tears that cut fresh tracks through the mess on her face. She gags and drools and keeps going, keeps her eyes locked on Minjeong's, keeps that expression of total, willing surrender even as spit runs freely down her chin and drips onto her chest.
You lean back against the headboard, watching, arms crossed. "This is really romantic."
Minjeong doesn't break her rhythm. She keeps her fist in Ning's hair and her hips rolling forward and glances at you over her shoulder. "It is, actually."
"Nothing says 'welcome to the building' like a strap down the throat."
"Before I can pamper her, I need to degrade her a little first. It's the process. Destruction and reconstruction. You have to tear something down before you can build it into what it's meant to be." She thrusts deep and holds Ning there, nose pressed against her pelvis, throat convulsing.
"Quite poetic."
"I get pretty poetic when there’s a beautiful, slutty girl sucking my big, thick cock." She releases Ning's head and the girl pulls back gasping, a thick bridge of spit stretching from her lips to the tip of the strap before it collapses onto her chin. Minjeong strokes her cheek with the back of her hand.
She grabs Ning's hair again and pulls her back onto the strap. Harder this time, faster, her hips pumping with real force, using Ning's mouth like it exists for this singular purpose. The sounds are filthy. Wet, choking, guttural. Ning's throat bulges with each deep stroke, her body lurching forward. She gags violently and spit erupts around the shaft, coating Minjeong's thighs, running in thick ropes down Ning's neck and between her collarbones.
Minjeong keeps going. She fucks Ning's face with the detached focus of someone working through a task, her jaw set, her breathing steady, only the flush across her chest betraying how much this is doing for her. The base plate grinds against her clit with every thrust and she absorbs each pulse of pleasure without changing expression.
Then she stops. Pulls the strap out completely. Steps back.
Ning stays on her hands and knees, head hanging, chest heaving. She's destroyed. Saliva covers the entire lower half of her face, her neck, her collarbones. It's dripped down onto her tits and stomach, mixing with the dried residue of everything else that's been on her tonight. Her lips are swollen and raw, her mascara has migrated to her temples, and she's trembling from head to toe.
"Open your mouth," Minjeong says. Ning tilts her face up and opens wide. Tongue out, lips stretched, the bell resting in the puddle of drool at the hollow of her throat. Minjeong leans forward and spits. A thick glob that lands directly on Ning's tongue. It sits there, glistening, and Ning holds perfectly still, mouth open, waiting. "Swallow."
Ning closes her mouth and swallows. Her throat bobs once. She opens her mouth again to show it's gone.
"Perfect little drain." Minjeong traces Ning's jawline with her fingertip, tilting her head side to side like she's inspecting merchandise. "Tell me something, kitten. Have you ever been fucked in the ass?"
The question catches her off guard. The empty, obedient look breaks, and a timid, almost girlish shyness surfaces. Her blush deepens and she lowers her gaze to the bed. "Only twice," she admits quietly.
Minjeong's palm connects with Ning's cheek. Not hard enough to snap her head, but sharp enough that the crack rings through the room and a pink handprint blooms on Ning's skin. Ning's eyes go wide, her mouth falling open in a surprised little gasp, the bell jingling from the impact.
"Dirty little slut," Minjeong says evenly. "Acting all shy and innocent with your 'only twice.' You’re disgusting… and you know it. Only twice. Like a normal person's answer to that question isn't zero." She grabs Ning's chin and forces her to make eye contact. "But that's good. It means we can skip the boring part. Your greedy little asshole already knows how to open up for cock."
She releases Ning's chin and looks at you. That look. Commanding, certain, the look that turns her from a five-foot-nothing disaster lesbian into someone you'd follow off a cliff. "Get the lube."
You roll off the bed and cross to the dresser. Second drawer, left side, behind the silicone cleaning spray. You know where she keeps it because you've been here enough times to navigate this room blindfolded. You grab the bottle (water-based, good quality, Minjeong doesn't cheap out on essentials) and turn back toward the bed.
The position has already changed. Minjeong is lying on her back in the center of the mattress, the strap pointing straight up from between her hips. Ning is climbing on top of her, straddling her waist, their bodies pressing together. Ning's hands brace on either side of Minjeong's head. The bell dangles between them, brushing Minjeong's collarbone. Their faces are inches apart.
Minjeong reaches down and positions the head of the strap against Ning's entrance. Not inside. Just there. Resting against her slit, the tip nudging between her swollen lips. Ning's hips rock forward instinctively, trying to sink down, and Minjeong grabs her waist to stop her. "Not yet," she whispers. "Wait for it."
You climb onto the bed behind them, lube in hand. From this angle, Ning's ass is presented to you, round and full and perfect, the curve of it framing the view of Minjeong's strap pressed against her pussy below. Her thighs are spread wide across Minjeong's hips. Everything is on display.
Minjeong peers around Ning's shoulder at you, her expression calm and focused and completely in control of every variable in this room. "Get her ready.”
You pop the cap on the lube and squeeze a generous amount onto your fingers. It pools in your palm, clear and slick, and you start at the curve of Ning's ass, spreading it across both cheeks in slow strokes. Your palms glide over the full roundness of her, kneading gently, working the lube into her skin until it gleams under the lamplight. She shifts on top of Minjeong, her thighs tightening around the other girl's hips, and you feel the muscles in her glutes tense under your hands.
"Cold," Ning murmurs, a tremor running through her.
"I know,” Minjeong says. “Give it a second."
You bring your slicked fingers to the cleft of her ass and slide downward, finding the tight ring of muscle between her cheeks. You circle it slowly with the pad of your index finger, spreading the lubricant around the rim, letting her body register the sensation before you ask anything of it. Ning's breathing changes. Her shoulders hunch forward, her forehead dropping against Minjeong's collarbone, and beneath her you can see Minjeong's hand come up to stroke her hair.
You press the tip of your finger against her entrance. Gentle, patient pressure, not forcing, just resting there, letting the muscle relax on its own terms. It takes a few seconds. You feel the tension gradually release, the ring softening, and your fingertip slips inside to the first knuckle. Ning exhales shakily against Minjeong's chest. "There you go," you say quietly. "Just relax."
You work your finger deeper, inch by inch, feeling the heat of her, the tight grip of her walls around the digit. She's tense but yielding, her body fighting its own instincts and slowly winning. You pull back and push in again, a little deeper, establishing a gentle rhythm. When she's comfortable with one finger, you add a second, scissoring them apart carefully, stretching her open with methodical patience. Ning whimpers into Minjeong's neck, her hips rocking back against your hand in tiny, involuntary movements.
"She likes it," Minjeong observes from below, watching your fingers disappear into Ning's ass. Her free hand traces lazy patterns on Ning's spine. "Look at her pushing back onto your fingers. Greedy even here."
You work her for another minute, making sure she's properly relaxed, properly slicked. Then you withdraw your fingers and squeeze more lube onto your palm, wrapping your fist around your cock and stroking it from base to tip until the entire shaft glistens. You wipe the excess across Ning's entrance one more time for good measure.
You position yourself behind Ning, one hand on her hip, the other guiding your cock to her ass. The head presses against the ring of muscle, warm and slick, and you hold there. "Tell me if it hurts," you say. "Or if you need me to slow down. Any time."
Ning nods against Minjeong's chest, her fingers gripping the sheets on either side of Minjeong's shoulders.
"He likes you a lot," Minjeong tells Ning softly, brushing her lips against Ning's temple. "He's not usually this gentle."
Ning turns her head, catching your eye over her shoulder. "You're very thoughtful."
"Someone here has to be," you reply, glancing at Minjeong.
"Excuse me, I am extremely thoughtful. I gave her a collar."
You push forward. Slowly. The head of your cock meets resistance and you maintain steady pressure, not thrusting, just leaning into it, letting her body decide the pace. The ring stretches around the tip, tight and gripping, and Ning's breath catches. Her fingers dig into the mattress. You pause.
"Keep going," she whispers.
You push deeper. The same patience you used with your fingers, feeding your cock into the impossibly tight heat of her ass while her body opens for you in gradual, reluctant increments. She's burning hot inside, tighter than anything, and the pressure around your shaft is almost overwhelming. You grit your teeth and go slow, watching the place where your body meets hers, watching her stretch around you.
Beneath her, Minjeong reaches down and guides the strap to Ning's pussy. She tilts her hips and pushes upward, and the head of the silicone cock slides between Ning's swollen lips and into her cunt at the same moment that you sink another inch into her ass.
Ning releases a guttural, fractured cry that wavers between a sob and a moan, her muscles locking as both holes fill simultaneously. Her mouth opens against Minjeong's collarbone and she just breathes, fast and shallow, processing the fullness.
"Oh my god," she chokes out. "Oh my god, I can feel both of you. I can feel everything."
"Breathe," Minjeong tells her, cupping the back of her head. "Just breathe, kitten."
You hold still, buried halfway in Ning's ass, giving her time. Minjeong holds still beneath her, the strap seated partway in her pussy. The three of you exist in a suspended moment of absolute fullness, nobody moving, just breathing together, letting Ning's body adjust to being stretched in two places at once.
Then Ning rolls her hips. Barely perceptible, just a tiny rocking motion, testing, and the sensation ripples through all three of you. You feel the shift in pressure as the strap moves inside her pussy, separated from your cock by only a thin wall of tissue, and the indirect contact through her body sends a jolt through your shaft that makes your jaw clench.
"More," Ning whispers. You push the rest of the way in. Slow, steady, until your hips press flush against her ass. At the same time, Minjeong rocks upward, seating the strap fully in Ning's cunt. Ning is pinned between the two of you, every inch of both holes filled, her small body stretched and stuffed and sandwiched between your chest and Minjeong's. "Fuck," Ning breathes. "Fuck, that's so much. It's so much."
"Too much?" you ask.
"No. Don't stop. Don't you dare stop."
You start to move. Slow, careful, pulling back a few inches and pressing forward again. Minjeong finds a counter-rhythm beneath you both, thrusting upward as you withdraw, so that Ning is never empty, always full of one of you, the two cocks alternating inside her in a steady, rocking cadence. The thin membrane separating your shaft from the strap means you can feel every stroke Minjeong makes, a firm pressure sliding against you through Ning's body, and the sensation is dizzying.
Ning is lost. Her face is buried in Minjeong's neck, her hips moving in helpless, undulating waves between the two of you, taking each thrust from behind and each upstroke from below. The bell on her collar chimes with every rock of her body. Her moans are continuous now, not sharp peaks but a sustained, low, trembling sound that vibrates in her chest.
"Can you feel him in your ass while I'm in your pussy?" Minjeong murmurs against Ning's ear, her hips rolling in smooth, controlled strokes. "Can you feel both of us moving inside you at the same time? Filling you up from both sides?"
"Yes," Ning gasps. "I feel everything. I feel you rubbing against each other through me. It's so full, I've never been this full, I can't think."
"You don't need to think. I told you that already. Thinking is not what you're here for." Minjeong thrusts upward, sharp, and Ning cries out. "You're here to take two cocks at once like the greedy little hole you are and say thank you when we're done."
You increase your pace slightly, your strokes lengthening, pulling back further before pushing in. Ning's ass grips you with every movement, the lube making the slide smooth but the tightness still staggering, her body clenching and releasing around your shaft in rhythmic pulses that sync with Minjeong's thrusts below. You grip Ning's hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples at the base of her spine, and settle into a steady, driving tempo.
"Look at her taking it," Minjeong says, and there's genuine awe underneath the domination. She cranes her neck to look past Ning's shoulder at you, watching your cock disappear into Ning's ass on every stroke. "Both holes stuffed and she's still begging for more. I knew it. I knew the second I saw her that she was built for this."
Ning whimpers in response, her nails scratching at the sheets beside Minjeong's head. Her back arches, pressing her chest harder against Minjeong's, their nipples sliding together with each thrust. The position keeps her pinned, unable to control anything, unable to set the pace, simply trapped between two bodies that are using her in tandem. And she loves it. Every line of her body broadcasts it, the way she pushes back onto you, the way she grinds down onto Minjeong, the way her moans have taken on a pitch that borders on delirium.
You lean forward, changing the angle, and Ning screams. Your cock hits deeper, pressing against spots that make her entire body jolt, and at the same time Minjeong adjusts beneath her, angling the strap upward, finding her g-spot through her front wall. Ning is caught between the two points of pressure, her body jerking and spasming.
"That's our good kitten," Minjeong coos, holding Ning's trembling body against hers, one hand in her hair, the other gripping her ass, pulling her cheeks apart so you can thrust deeper. "Taking both her owners so well. So stretched. So full. So perfectly, obscenely stuffed. Now mark her," she says, looking past Ning's shoulder at you. "I want prints on her."
You bring your palm down on Ning's right cheek. The crack splits the air and Ning yelps, her whole body clenching, her ass tightening around your cock so hard your vision blurs for a second. A pink handprint blooms on her skin, vivid against the pale flesh.
"Again," Minjeong orders. "Leave her tight little ass completely red. I want it glowing."
You smack her left cheek. Then the right again. Then the left. Each impact sends a shockwave through Ning's body that you feel in the grip of her ass around your shaft, each clench followed by a release that lets you thrust deeper. Her skin flushes from pink to angry red, overlapping handprints layering on top of each other until both cheeks are burning, swollen, marked in a way that's going to last for days.
Ning screams into Minjeong's neck with every slap, her body jolting forward, then rocking back onto your cock like she's chasing the sting. "Tell me what you are," Minjeong demands. She grabs a fistful of Ning's hair and pulls her head up, forcing her face out of hiding. "Loud. So I can hear it."
"I'm a whore," Ning shouts. Her face is streaked with fresh tears, mascara long gone, nothing left but raw skin and swollen lips and wild, desperate eyes. "I'm a dirty little whore."
"The neighbors are going to hear you screaming that."
"I don't care." Ning's hips grind back against you, then forward onto Minjeong, her body working between the two cocks with frantic, shameless need. "I don't care if they hear. I want everyone to know. I want the whole building to know I'm a whore. That Minjeong is my owner. That I belong to her."
Minjeong's hand slides from Ning's hair to her throat. Not squeezing, not choking. Just holding. Her fingers wrap around the column of Ning's neck, feeling the collar beneath her palm, the bell pressing into the webbing between her thumb and index finger. She tilts Ning's face down until their eyes meet.
"Look at me," Minjeong says. Quiet now, almost tender. "Don't close your eyes. Don't look away. I want you to cum while you're looking at me. I want to see it happen."
Ning's gaze locks onto Minjeong's. Inches apart, sharing breath, Minjeong's hand steady on her throat. The bell is trapped between Minjeong's fingers and Ning's skin, silent for the first time.
You fuck her harder. Deep, punishing strokes into her ass, each one landing with a wet smack against her reddened cheeks, your fingers digging into her bruised hips. Minjeong thrusts upward in counterpoint, the strap filling Ning's pussy on every alternating beat, the two of you working her body in a relentless, coordinated rhythm that leaves her nowhere to go, nothing to do except take it and feel it and fall apart.
Ning's lips start trembling. Her breathing fractures into staccato bursts, each exhale a whimper, each inhale a gasp. Her thighs shake uncontrollably against Minjeong's hips. Her fingers claw at the sheets, the mattress, Minjeong's shoulders, anything she can reach. The tension builds visibly in her body, every muscle drawing taut, her stomach clenching, her jaw tightening, her eyes going glassy and unfocused even as she fights to keep them locked on Minjeong's face.
"That's it," Minjeong whispers, her thumb stroking the side of Ning's throat. "Right there. Let go for me. Let me see it." It hits her from both directions at once. You feel it in her ass first, a clamping, rhythmic contraction that grips your cock so tight you have to grit your teeth, her muscles spasming in rapid pulses. Then Minjeong gasps beneath her as Ning's pussy does the same thing around the strap, both holes clenching simultaneously in waves that roll through her body like seismic aftershocks.
Ning's mouth opens. No sound comes out for a full two seconds. Her back arches, rigid, suspended between the two of you, every tendon in her neck standing out beneath Minjeong's hand. Then the scream comes. Low at first, building, ragged and destroyed and raw, her eyes never leaving Minjeong's face even as her body convulses between them. Tears spill freely down her cheeks. Her hips jerk and stutter in helpless, broken movements. Fluid gushes from around the strap, soaking Minjeong's thighs and the sheets beneath them.
The orgasm goes on and on. Each time you think it's subsiding, another wave hits her, another contraction grips you, another cry tears from her throat. Minjeong holds her gaze through all of it, steady and anchoring, her hand warm and firm on Ning's throat, grounding her through the most intense thing her body has ever experienced.
When it finally ends, Ning collapses. Completely, boneless, every ounce of energy drained, her full weight dropping onto Minjeong's chest. Her cheek presses against Minjeong's collarbone. Her eyes close. Her breathing is ragged, hitching, edging toward sobs. Minjeong wraps both arms around her. Pulls her close. One hand cradles the back of her head, fingers threading gently through her tangled, sweat-damp hair. The other rests flat between her shoulder blades, palm warm against her spine. She presses her lips to Ning's temple and holds them there.
"Good girl," she murmurs into Ning's hair. "Such a good girl. My perfect little kitten. You did so well. I'm so proud of you."
Ning makes a small, broken sound against Minjeong's chest. Her fingers curl weakly into the sheets beside Minjeong's ribs, holding on. You pull out of Ning slowly, carefully, and her body shudders once at the withdrawal. Her reddened ass bears overlapping handprints in various shades of crimson, the skin hot to the touch. You sit back and exhale.
"I'm close," you tell Minjeong.
She looks at you over Ning's shoulder. "Stand up."
You climb off the bed, your feet finding the floor, and stand at the edge of the mattress. Minjeong gently lifts Ning off her chest, easing her upward, pressing kisses to her forehead, her cheek, the tip of her nose.
"One more thing, kitten." She strokes Ning's face. "Can you kneel for me? On the floor?"
Ning blinks, still dazed, still trembling in the afterglow. She nods faintly. Minjeong helps her to the edge of the bed and Ning slides off, her knees finding the carpet, settling into that familiar position. On the floor, between your legs, looking up at you and Minjeong with glazed, wrecked, adoring eyes. The collar gleams at her throat. Minjeong slips off the bed and kneels beside her, one arm draped around Ning's shoulders, both of them looking up at you from the floor.
"Now," Minjeong says, settling beside Ning on her knees, one arm still draped protectively across her shoulders, "my kitten gets her reward." She looks up at you, then at Ning, then at your cock standing hard and slick inches from both their faces. "Warm milk. All over that pretty face and tongue." She runs her fingertip along Ning's jaw, turning her head to face your shaft. "You must be starving, baby. You've worked so hard tonight. Been such a good little pet. So you're going to suck that cock until he gives you every drop. And I'm going to help."
Minjeong leans forward first. Her lips close around the head of your cock, warm and soft, her tongue swirling once before she pulls back and guides Ning in. Ning's mouth replaces hers, those swollen, raw lips stretching around your shaft, taking you halfway in a single smooth stroke. She bobs twice, sloppy and eager, spit already building, and then pulls back as Minjeong moves in again.
They find a rhythm. Ning takes you deep while Minjeong's tongue works the base, licking the underside of your shaft where Ning's lips can't reach. Then they switch. Minjeong sucks the head while Ning drops lower, pressing her mouth against your balls, her tongue dragging across the sensitive skin, taking one into her mouth and sucking gently while Minjeong bobs above her.
Then their mouths meet at the tip. Ning's tongue presses flat against one side of the head, Minjeong's against the other, and they lick upward in unison, their tongues meeting at the slit, sliding against each other with your cock trapped between them. The contact dissolves into a kiss. Minjeong's hand cups the back of Ning's head and they kiss around the head of your cock, tongues tangling together, lips brushing the sensitive ridge, spit and precum smearing between their mouths in a connected, glistening mess. The bell on Ning's collar chimes softly as she tilts her head to deepen the angle.
"You two are perfect together," you manage.
Minjeong breaks the kiss and looks up at you, a strand of spit connecting her lip to Ning's. She smiles. Then she turns to Ning and presses one last, lingering kiss against her mouth. Slow, tender, her thumb stroking Ning's cum-stained cheek. "I want the best seat in the house for this," she murmurs against Ning's lips.
She stands. Her bare feet pad around behind you and you feel her chest press against your back, her chin hooking over your shoulder, her arms winding around your torso from behind. One hand slides down your stomach and wraps around your cock, slick from both their mouths, her grip firm, practiced and exactly right.
Below you, Ning kneels alone. She tilts her face up, mouth open, the collar gleaming, and extends her tongue to press against your frenulum. Just the tip of her tongue, light, flickering, the most sensitive spot on your entire body being teased with delicate, maddening precision while Minjeong's fist works the shaft from behind.
"Look at her," Minjeong whispers against your ear, her breath hot on your neck. "Look at that face. That gorgeous, ruined, perfect face. Mascara destroyed. Lips swollen. And she's kneeling there begging for more. She deserves to be painted. She deserves every single drop you've got."
Her hand strokes you steadily, twisting slightly at the top, her thumb swiping over the head on each upstroke before Ning's tongue catches the underside again. Minjeong's other hand rests on your hip, her nails pressing lightly into your skin.
"Imagine what she's going to look like," Minjeong continues, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Thick ropes of cum across those cheekbones. Dripping off her chin. Pooling on that pretty tongue. Sliding down to the collar. My collared little cum dump covered in you while I watch."
Ning's tongue flutters against the frenulum and she pulls back just enough to speak, her lips still brushing the head of your cock. "Please. I want it. I've been good, I've been so good tonight, please give it to me. I want to taste it. I want to feel it land on me."
"Hear that?" Minjeong's hand quickens. Her strokes tighten, pumping your shaft with urgent, focused precision, her wrist snapping on the downstroke. "Your little kitten is begging. She's starving for it. Starving for your cum on her pretty face."
Ning opens wider, her tongue extended as far as it'll go, flat and waiting. "Please, please, please. Cum on me. Cover me. I'll swallow everything, I'll lick it all up, please, I need it."
"Give it to her," Minjeong breathes. "Cum all over her fucking face. Do it. Now."
"I'm close," you grit out, your abs clenching, your thighs locking.
Ning stays perfectly still, kneeling, tongue out, eyes open, looking up at you with those glassy, adoring, wrecked eyes. Minjeong aims your cock directly at her face from behind your hip, angling the head downward, her grip controlling exactly where every drop is going to land.
You break. The first rope fires thick and hot across Ning's cheek, a white streak from the corner of her mouth to her temple. Ning flinches at the impact and then holds still, mouth open wider, and the second shot lands directly on her tongue, heavy and warm, pooling in the center. Minjeong doesn't stop stroking. Her fist milks your shaft in relentless, squeezing pumps, coaxing everything out of you, and the third rope catches Ning's forehead, dripping down the bridge of her nose. The fourth hits her chin and slides down to the collar, catching in the leather, dripping off the bell. The fifth and sixth are weaker, oozing from the tip, and Minjeong aims them across Ning's lips, painting them white, smearing the head of your cock across her mouth to spread the last traces.
"Oh fuck," Minjeong exhales against your shoulder, watching her handiwork. "Look at that. Look at her. She's covered. She's absolutely covered."
Ning kneels there, face glazed, tongue still extended with a thick pool of cum sitting in the center. It streaks across her features like abstract art, white against flushed skin, dripping slowly down the contours of her face, following the paths of the dried tears and mascara tracks. The collar glistens with it. A drop hangs from the bell, catching the light before it falls.
Minjeong pushes your cock forward, guiding the sensitive, spent head between Ning's lips. "Clean him up, kitten."
Ning closes her mouth around the tip and sucks gently. You shudder, every nerve ending screaming with oversensitivity, your hands gripping Minjeong's arm around your waist for stability. Ning's tongue swirls around the head, dipping into the slit, coaxing the last remnants of cum from you with patient, thorough attention. She sucks and licks and swallows, her throat bobbing, until there's nothing left and your cock is clean and twitching in her mouth.
She releases you with a soft, wet sound and looks up, waiting. Cum still covers most of her face, drying at the edges, fresh and wet in the center. Minjeong steps out from behind you and kneels in front of Ning. She takes Ning's face in both hands, cupping her jaw, tilting her head left, then right, examining her. Her thumbs rest on Ning's cheekbones, framing the mess, and a slow, reverent smile spreads across her face. "Perfect," she whispers. "You're absolutely perfect."
She leans in and presses her tongue flat against Ning's forehead. The first lick drags through the streak of cum there, collecting it. She pulls back, swallows, and goes in again. Across Ning's temple, where the first rope landed, her tongue tracing the line from hairline to cheekbone, gathering every trace. Ning's eyes close. A soft, contented sigh escapes her as Minjeong's tongue moves down to her cheek, lapping at the thick smear there with long, patient strokes, cleaning the skin beneath to a flushed, spit-shined pink.
Minjeong works methodically. She licks across the bridge of Ning's nose, down the other cheek, along her jawline where a trickle has dried. Her tongue finds the corner of Ning's mouth and traces the crease where cum has settled into her smile lines. She licks Ning's chin clean, her tongue pressing into the soft dip beneath her lower lip, following the trail down to the collar where the last drops cling to leather and metal. She licks the collar itself, her tongue running along the strap, over the surface of the bell, tasting salt, cum and Ning's skin all at once.
Ning stays still through all of it, eyes closed, face tilted up, surrendering to the sensation of being cleaned by the woman who owns her. Small tremors run through her body. Her hands rest limp in her lap. When Minjeong finishes, Ning's face is clean. Flushed and raw and still marked with the ghosts of mascara, but clean.
Minjeong tilts Ning's cleaned face toward hers and kisses her. Her mouth opens, and you watch the moment Ning realizes what's happening. Minjeong is pushing the collected cum from her own tongue into Ning's mouth, feeding it to her in a slow transfer. Ning makes a small, surprised sound and then melts into it, her hand finding Minjeong's and their fingers lacing together on Ning's bare thigh. They stay like that for a long moment, mouths connected, sharing the taste between them, Ning swallowing in small pulses while Minjeong's thumb strokes circles against the back of her hand.
When they finally break apart, Ning licks her lips and Minjeong presses her forehead against hers, both of them breathing, both of them quiet. You sit on the edge of the bed. The room is wrecked. The sheets are wrecked. Everyone in the room is wrecked.
"That," you say to the ceiling, "was a very intense night."
"Understatement," Minjeong murmurs, still forehead-to-forehead with Ning.
Ning lets out a shaky exhale that's half laugh, half disbelief. "Everything happened so fast. Like, two hours ago I was looking for my keys."
"And now look at you."
"Please don't make me look at me right now." Ning shifts on her knees, winces, and glances toward the hallway. "Can we take a bath? I need... water. Hot water. On my body. Immediately."
"Yeah," you agree.
"Absolutely," Minjeong says, finally pulling back from Ning's face. She stands, offering Ning both hands, and Ning takes them. Getting up is a process. Her legs wobble on the first attempt, her knees buckling, and Minjeong catches her around the waist with a steadiness that suggests she's done post-sex stabilization before (she has, for you, twice). Ning finds her footing on the second try, standing on shaking legs, one hand gripping Minjeong's shoulder.
Minjeong looks back at the bed. The sheets are destroyed. Soaked through in multiple overlapping patches of various fluids, twisted into ropes at the corners where someone (everyone) was gripping them, the fitted sheet pulled halfway off the mattress. A pillow has migrated to the floor. The handcuffs dangle from the headboard slat, still open. The smeared remnants of red lipstick have transferred onto the fabric in abstract streaks. The lube bottle is on its side, cap off, a small puddle forming on the nightstand.
"I'm going to have to replace literally everything. The sheets, the mattress protector, possibly the mattress. This looks like a crime scene."
"A fun crime scene," you offer.
Ning looks down at herself and goes very still. Her stomach is sticky with dried residue (sweat, spit, squirt, cum, all of the above in various combinations). The ghost of the lipstick letters still clings to her skin in faded red traces. Her knees are raw and red from the carpet, the skin irritated and tender. She turns slightly and cranes her neck to look at her own ass, and her eyes go wide. "Oh my god."
It's crimson. Both cheeks overlapping with handprints in varying shades of red, some of them clearly defined (fingers, palm, thumb) and others just general swelling from repeated impact. "Oh my god," Ning repeats, touching her own cheek gingerly and flinching. "That's so red."
Minjeong's dominance evaporates instantly, she rushes over and examines the marks with careful fingers, barely touching, her brow furrowed. "Are you okay? I have a really good moisturizing cream, it's the one with shea butter and aloe, I can put it on your knees and your... everything after the bath. It helps with inflammation."
"I'm fine." Ning gives her a lopsided smile. "Just a little sore. Everywhere. In places I didn't know could be sore."
Minjeong takes her hand and leads her down the hallway to the bathroom, walking slowly, matching Ning's careful pace. You follow. The bathroom is small but clean (the cleanest room in the apartment at this point, by default). Ning catches her reflection in the mirror above the sink and stops dead. She stares at herself.
The mascara is gone. Not removed. Migrated. It's spread across her temples, under her eyes, down her cheeks in dried tracks that map every tear she shed tonight. Her foundation is patchy and streaked. Her lipstick dissolved hours ago. Her hair is a tangled, matted disaster. The collar still sits around her throat. Faint red marks circle both wrists from the handcuffs. Her entire body from the neck down glistens with a cocktail of everything the three of you produced tonight. "Holy shit," Ning whispers at her own reflection. "You two really used me."
Minjeong, standing behind Ning, locks eyes with you in the mirror. She's trying not to freak out. Trying so hard. Her lips are pressed together, her nostrils are flared, and her hand reaches out and grabs your bicep in a death grip, her nails digging in. She squeezes your arm so hard you almost yelp, and behind Ning's back she's suppressing a grin so enormous it looks physically painful to contain.
You give her a subtle nod. She releases your arm (there will be half-moon nail marks there tomorrow) and composes herself. Minjeong turns the shower on. She adjusts the handle, testing the temperature with her wrist, nudging it warmer until steam starts curling against the glass, then helps Ning step in first. Ning moves under the stream and the hot water hits her shoulders and she lets out a groan of relief that borders on spiritual. The collar's bell catches the water and glints.
"Should I take this off?" Ning asks, touching it.
"Only if you want to."
Ning considers. "I'll keep it on."
Minjeong's face does the thing again (the barely suppressed joy, the disbelief) and she steps in behind Ning, pressing close under the spray. You get in last, and the three of you fit in the shower the way three adults fit in a standard shower stall, which is to say barely, with a lot of rotating and someone always catching an elbow and everyone taking turns directly under the water.
Minjeong washes Ning. Not quickly. Carefully. She squeezes eucalyptus wash onto a soft cloth and runs it over Ning's shoulders in slow, gentle strokes, working down her arms, across her chest, rinsing each section under the stream before moving to the next. She handles the raw spots (knees, wrists, the reddened cheeks of her ass) with extra tenderness, barely any pressure, just warm water and soft fabric. When she gets to Ning's hair, she reaches for a specific bottle on the shelf. You recognize it immediately.
"Is that the expensive shampoo?"
Minjeong doesn't look at you. "Maybe."
"The one you specifically told me I'm never allowed to use?"
"It's for her hair type."
"My hair has a type too, Minjeong."
"Your hair has the type of 'use the two-in-one like everyone else.'" She squeezes a generous amount into her palm and begins working it through Ning's hair, massaging her scalp with her fingertips. Ning practically purrs under the attention, her eyes closed, her body leaning back into Minjeong's hands, the hot water rinsing the suds down her back in slow cascades.
After the shower, Minjeong wraps Ning in the fluffiest bathrobe in the apartment. She sits Ning on the closed toilet lid and dries her hair with a blow dryer, one hand running through the strands while the other directs the warm air, sectioning and smoothing with the attention of a salon professional.
You lean against the doorframe, towel around your waist, watching this. "I've never received this level of service."
"And you never will. Be grateful I'm still willing to give you water."
"Noted."
Once Ning's hair is dry and soft and falling in clean waves around her face, Minjeong leads her to the kitchen. "Tea," she announces, filling the kettle. "After all that, we need tea."
"You're so Korean," you say.
"And you're so annoying. What do you want?"
"Mint."
Minjeong looks at Ning, who has settled onto a kitchen stool with the careful movements of someone whose entire lower body is filing complaints. "Chamomile, please."
With the calm precision of habit, Minjeong fixes three cups. She opens a cabinet and pulls out a tin of butter cookies, the classic round one straight out of a grandmother’s kitchen, then sets it down on the counter.
The three of you drink tea and eat cookies in the kitchen of apartment 69 at (you check the microwave clock) eleven forty-seven on a weeknight. Ning is in a fluffy bathrobe with a collar and bell around her neck. Minjeong is in an old t-shirt and fresh shorts. You're in your jeans and nothing else.
Minjeong wraps both hands around her mug. Stares into the tea. Takes a breath. "So, Ning."
"So, Minjeong."
"Would you... do you want to go on a date with me? Tomorrow?" She says it quickly, her eyes fixed on the surface of her chamomile. "Like, dinner. Or coffee. Or whatever you want. Something normal. Where we wear clothes and sit across from each other and talk."
Ning smiles. "I'd really like that."
Minjeong exhales. You watch the tension drain from her shoulders in real time, weeks of anxiety dissolving in a single sentence. Ning shakes her head slowly, laughing at herself. "I still can't believe I did all that. With two people I barely knew three hours ago. I'm... I mean, I was going to watch Gossip Girl. I was going to make instant ramen and watch Gossip Girl and go to sleep at midnight like a normal person. And instead I got..." She gestures at everything: the collar, the bathrobe, the cookie in her hand, the entire trajectory of the evening.
"Any regrets?" Minjeong asks.
"Zero. Absolutely zero." Ning dunks her cookie in her tea and takes a bite. "I'm just realizing I might be a much more adventurous person than I thought."
Minjeong nibbles the edge of her own cookie. "I hope it wasn't too much. For a first time. I know I can be... a lot. I was so excited and nervous simultaneously and when I get like that I tend to just go and go and go and I should have checked in more and..."
"Minjeong."
"Yeah?"
"It was too much. But in the best way. Like, you took sex and turned it into something I didn't know existed. I didn't know it could feel like that. I didn't know I could feel like that."
Minjeong stares at her cookie with an expression of concentrated joy that she's trying very hard to play cool about. Ning takes another sip of chamomile, and then, very quietly, looking at the counter rather than at either of you, says, "Also, I think I want to try having two... you know. Both of you. In the same... in one..." She trails off. Covers her face with both hands. The bell jingles. "Oh my god, I can't believe I'm saying this out loud. Both of you at the same time. In my pussy. Together." She peeks through her fingers. "I think I might die if that actually happened, but I want to try."
Minjeong is gripping her mug so hard her knuckles are white. "We can absolutely make that happen. Yeah."
"But more than anything," Ning continues, setting her tea down. She reaches across the counter and takes Minjeong's hand, threading their fingers together slowly. "I want to get to know you. Like, actually know you." She rubs her thumb across Minjeong's knuckles. "When I first moved in, you were this mystery to me. The girl from 69 who I'd catch glimpses of in the hallway and then she'd just... vanish. I kept thinking, is she shy? Does she hate me? Is she a ghost? I genuinely considered the ghost option for a minute."
Minjeong opens her mouth to respond and nothing comes out.
"I'd listen for your door," Ning admits. "I'd hear it open and I'd rush to my peephole hoping to catch you leaving so I could time my exit and accidentally run into you. And every single time, by the time I got my shoes on, you were gone."
"I move fast when I'm panicking," Minjeong says quietly.
"I figured that out tonight." Ning squeezes her hand. "I started thinking maybe I'd never get to talk to you. That you'd just be this beautiful, weird, untouchable person two doors down who I'd think about way more than was reasonable. And now I'm sitting in your kitchen wearing your bathrobe and your collar and I know what sound you make when you cum, but I don't know your favorite movie. Or what makes you laugh. Or what you eat for breakfast. And I want all of that. Every boring, normal detail.”
They look at each other across the kitchen counter, and the bell chimes once as Ning leans in, and they kiss. Gentle, slow, tasting like chamomile and butter cookies.
You finish your mint tea. Set the mug in the sink. Pick up the last cookie from the tin and take a bite. "I'm going to head out," you say. "You two have a lot to talk about."
Minjeong breaks the kiss and stands from her stool. She walks over to you and takes your hand in both of hers, squeezing. "Thank you," she says. "For real. This wouldn't have happened without you. I'd still be hiding behind that plant if you hadn't dragged me into my own life."
"You absolutely would be."
"I know. That's why I'm thanking you."
Ning hops off her stool (winces slightly upon landing), walks over, and presses a kiss to your cheek. Her lips are warm from the tea. "That was really sweet of you. Setting all this up. Being so considerate through everything. You're a good person."
"I'm an okay person who was heavily incentivized."
Ning laughs. "Still."
You pull on your shirt, find your jacket on the couch (right where you left it approximately a lifetime ago), and head for the door. You stop with your hand on the knob and look back at them. Minjeong has her arm around Ning's waist, and Ning is leaning into her, and they look like something that was always supposed to happen and just needed a minor logistical push.
"Just remember to invite me back," you say. "There's apparently a lot of unfinished business."
Minjeong and Ning exchange a glance. That silent communication thing that couples do when they've been together for years, except these two have been together for approximately three hours and already seem fluent in it. "Oh, we're definitely calling you," Minjeong says. "There's still a lot to be done. I have an entire drawer we didn't even open tonight. And I'm going to need your... assistance."
"The drawer you won't tell me about?"
"That drawer stays classified until the appropriate time."
Ning waves from under Minjeong's arm. "Come back soon."
"I will." You open the door and step into the hallway. The sad little fern sits in its pot by the wall, oblivious to its role in the evening's origin story. "Good luck, you two. Goodnight."
You close the door behind you and stand in the hallway for a second, listening. Through the door, muffled, you hear Ning say something and Minjeong laugh. It’s unfiltered. Effortless. So different from the composed, dry version she shows the world.
You press the elevator button, take a bite of the stolen cookie, and head home.
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Big Big Shout out to @mintwithchoco and woolly for hosting this prompt challenge. I had so much fun and hey I kept tho the prompt word limit! (Close enough at least) but good job to all the other writers! Heres my submission.
Smuts at the end! Its uncertain if I would continue the smut scene at the end at this point but hope you guys enjoy this piece!
OC X Ning (3557 words).
The message comes in too late to be reasonable.
11 p.m.
Your phone lights up on the nightstand, vibrating insistently, even though you are already tugged in in bed comfortably.
“Get dressed”
“We’re going out, I won't take no for an answer”
You stare at the screen. There are a hundred reasons you shouldn’t go. It’s late. You’re tired. Tomorrow exists. And more than that you absolutely hate the club. It is way too loud for you.
Your fingers hover over the keyboard.
“It’s late”
Delete.
“I'm not in the mood”
Delete.
This has always been the case between you and Ning for as long as you have known her. She pushes a little and you bend, somewhere along the way, you forgot how to say no to her.
You sigh and type: Where?
The reply is instant.
“Same place, don’t be late”
You don’t know why that still works.
You’ve known Ning since before you knew how to say no. She was your childhood friend. The girl that moved next door and happened to head to the same primary school as you.
She was the kid who grabbed your wrist on the playground and dragged you toward trouble with a grin that said come on, don’t be boring. You were the one who followed, even when your instincts told you not to. You learned early that resisting Ning took more energy than giving in and besides, she always looked so pleased and cute when you chose her. Even now, years later, you still haven't learnt to say no.
The club is already alive when you arrive, you absolutely hate it. Bass so heavy, music bursting your ear drums. The air smells like alcohol and sweat, the last place you would willingly choose to be. You preferred staying at home anyways. You spot her immediately. She’s near the bar, flirting with people, dressed like she doesn’t care what anyone thinks, which has always meant she cares very much. When she sees you, her face lights up.
“There you are,” she says, looping her arms around your neck. “I knew you’d come.”
Of course you did.
“I brought someone,” she adds, already turning.
That’s when you see her.
Karina stands a step behind Ning. She’s beautiful in a way that doesn’t beg for attention like ning, calm posture, well mannered and posh. She wears a lower cut dress that reveals her deep cleavage and you cannot help but stare at it before quickly moving your eyes away.
“This is Karina,” Ning says quickly. “My friend.”
Karina meets your gaze and smiles
“Nice to finally meet you,” she says, offering her hand.
Her touch is brief, warm but it lingers in your awareness long after she lets go.
You don’t realise you’re staring until Ning goes quiet.
You glance back at her. Her smile is still there, but it’s different now, you have known her too long to see past her genuine and fake smile.
She turns away first.
“Drinks,” she announces. “We’re getting drinks.”
The night unfolds in fragments.
Glasses clinking. Purple light flashing. Ning talking too fast, laughing too loud. Karina stays close enough that you’re constantly aware of her presence, causing your attention to flick back to her again and again.
“You two go way back,” Karina says at one point, leaning in so you can hear her over the music.
“Since childhood,” you reply.
“That explains a lot.”
You’re not sure what she means, but something in her tone tells you she sees and knows more than she’s saying.
“Care for a dance?”
The dance floor swallows you whole. Bodies press in from all sides, heat and movement blurring together. Ning dances like she is always wild, unapologetic to the disruption and looks she attracts from people . Karina on the other hand dances differently, way more elegant, confident, as if she knows just exactly how to catch your attention.
Her hand brushes yours and you inhale sharply, as you take in her beauty.
Across the floor, Ning noticed. You see it in the way her shoulders stiffen, in the flicker of something dark crossing her eyes. She downs the rest of her drink and slams the glass onto a passing tray.
And then she does the thing you’ve seen her do a hundred times.
She grabs the nearest guy.
He’s tall, drunk, eager. She pulls him in close, hands on his shoulders, lips brushing his ear. She laughs at something he says, throws her head back, dances like she wants to be watched.
Like she wants you to watch.
Karina’s hand finds yours properly this time, fingers curling around your palm. It’s grounding. Steady. You let yourself lean into it because the alternative is chasing Ning down again, asking what’s wrong, pretending you don’t already know.
“You don’t have to look so guilty,” Karina murmurs.
You huff out a humorless laugh. “I’ve been doing that my whole life.”
Ning kisses the guy.
It’s messy. Angry. When she pulls back, she locks eyes with you and flips you off, middle finger before going back to a rough make out session with the guy. You just shake your head, knowing you are only there to catch her if she falls too hard.
Time blurs after that.
Another drink appears in your hand. The music shifts. Ning keeps dancing with strangers, movements sloppier as the alcohol takes hold. Every now and then, you feel her eyes on you.
Later, near the hallway that leads to the bathrooms, Ning stumbles into you. She was totally drunk and could barely stay up on her two feet. Seeing you again, she finally broke.
“I liked you first,” she says, voice cracking. “You know that, right?”
Your heart twists painfully.
“Ning…” You reach for her, then stop. You’ve learned the hard way that touching her at moments like this only makes things worse.
“I’ve always liked you,” she continues, words tumbling out. “You just— you never choose me. Not like that.”
“You brought her,” you say softly.
She laughs, sharp and bitter. “Yeah. Because I thought if I acted like I didn’t care, you’d finally see me.”
You don’t know how to tell her that you’ve always seen her. Sometimes seeing her hurts too much.
You relapse into memory mode recounting the first time she came to you for advice about a relationship.
It was sophomore year. Late afternoon. She’d sprawled across your couch like she owned the place, scrolling on her phone with a grin she couldn’t quite hide.
“So,” she’d said casually, “this guy from my lecture asked me out.”
Your chest had tightened, sharp and immediate. You kept your voice neutral anyway.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” She rolled onto her stomach, chin propped on her hands. “He’s kind of cute. Think I should say yes?”
You’d stared at the ceiling, heart thudding, trying to breathe through the realisation that this was how you might possibly lose her
“What do you want?” you asked.
She smiled. “I wanted to hear what you think.”
You’d laughed it off, made a joke, told her to go for it if she liked him. You told yourself you were being a good friend. You told yourself you didn’t get to want her like that.
She stopped asking you for advice after that.
Not because she didn’t trust you, but because she didn’t need you once she was infatuated. Once she had somewhere else to put her attention, someone else to orbit. You watched it happen from the sidelines: the late-night texts she stopped replying to, the way she canceled plans because “he might come over,” the way her world narrowed until there was no space left for you.
You told yourself it was fine.
It hurt anyway.
The guy turned out to be exactly what you’d feared. Charming in public. A total jackass in private. The kind of person who mistook control for affection. You saw the cracks before she did, but you never said anything. You had learned by then that Ning didn’t hear warnings and would shove you off when you sounded it out , causing further friction between both of you. When it finally ended, it was ugly.
She showed up at your door at three in the morning, mascara streaked down her cheeks, hands shaking as she knocked like she was afraid you wouldn’t open it.
“I messed up,” she’d sobbed into your shoulder. “I messed up so bad.”
You held her. Of course you did. You made tea, tucked her into bed, stayed up listening while she cried and cursed him and herself in equal measure. You let her rewind the story again and again, searching for the moment where it all went wrong.
She slept curled against you that night, fingers clutching your shirt.
But something in you broke that night. You realized you’d been her constant not because she chose you, but because you were safe. Because you’d always be there to catch her when someone else let her fall.
…..
“Why, what is it that Karina has that I don't?" She grabs your hands, placing it on her chest.
“Is it my tits? Are they not as huge and good as hers?”
“You’re drunk,” you say , promptly moving your hands away from her shirt. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“I’m not drunk!” she snaps, stumbling slightly but gripping your arms. “I—okay, I messed up my last relationship, I know that! I let him—he—he didn’t deserve me, but I didn’t see it. And I didn’t know… I didn’t realize who I really loved or liked until after…”
“Ning—” you start, heart tightening, but she cuts you off.
“And you! You’ve been right there this whole time, and I kept pushing you away because I was scared, okay? Scared you’d leave if I said it, scared I’d ruin everything. But I can’t—I can’t keep pretending I don’t want you!”
Her words tumble over each other, raw with honesty. She grabs your face with both hands, thumb brushing your cheek. “I want you! I’ve always wanted you!”
You step back instinctively, taking her hands gently from your face. “Ning… you’re way too drunk to be saying this. You need to slow down—”
“I’m not drunk!” she insists, tears glinting in her eyes. “I just… I just can’t hold it in anymore. I love you! I like you! And I—ugh!—I hate that I let everything else get in the way!”
Her forehead falls against yours. “Do you even know how long I’ve been waiting to tell you? To—”
You can’t stop yourself from brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her confession, the tremor in her voice, the way she’s leaning into you—it’s too much. You take a deep breath, meeting her eyes. “Ning… slow down. Breathe. You’re too drunk, but…”
Her lips are so close now, her hands still on your chest, eyes pleading. And before you can talk yourself out of it, she presses her lips to yours. The kiss is frantic, messy, full of emotion, but you respond, letting the feelings you’ve both denied crash between you.
Ning pulls away suddenly, breath shaky, eyes wide like she’s just realized what she’s done.
“I—I’m sorry,” she blurts. “I shouldn’t have— I’m drunk, I shouldn’t—”
You don’t let her finish.
You grab her face and crash your lips back onto hers, harder this time, all restraint gone. The kiss isn’t careful anymore, it’s desperate, years of tension and heartbreak colliding all at once.
She freezes for half a second.
Then she melts.
Her hands fumble for you, clutching your shirt like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go. When you pull back, foreheads touching, both of you breathing hard, she whispers, “Don’t stop. Please.”
Her fingers slide down and lace with yours.
And then she’s pulling you.
She tugs you through the hallway, into the bathroom. She shoves you into the last stall. Then her mouth is on yours again, hungry, demanding. Her tongue slips between your lips, and you groan into her, hands fisting in her silky black hair. She tastes like vodka.
Her back hits the wall. Your hands find her waist. Her forehead rests against yours as she exhales, shaking.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she whispers. “Don’t make this another thing I lose.”
You kiss her again slower this time, deeper, softer, more passionately.
“I love you, I always have”
Her fingers have already moved and are working at the buttons of your shirt. You can feel her touch so closely, the way she traces deliberate paths down your chests, until her breath hitches when she reaches your belt.
“Fuck, you’re hard,” she murmurs against your jaw. The stall is too small but you don’t care—you press her back against the cold wall, the impact making her gasp. Her skirt rides up, her thighs parting just enough to let you grind against her, the friction driving you crazy through the fabric of your pants.
Ning breaks the kiss first, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, “Let me taste you.” The words send a jolt straight to your cock, and you don’t even have time to respond before she’s sinking to her knees in front of you. Her fingers deftly unbuckle your belt, the sound of the leather sliding through the loops obscenely loud in the confined space. Your pants drop to your ankles, your boxers following, and then her hands are on you, stroking you from root to tip with a slow, teasing pressure.
You bite back a groan as she leans in, her breath heavy over the head of your cock. “So eager,” her voice dripping with excitement. Then her tongue flicks out, swiping a wet stripe up your length, and your hips jerk forward in response. Ning chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin, before she takes you fully into her mouth. Fuck. Her lips are tight, her tongue swirling in slow, deliberate patterns that have your fingers tangling in her hair. She hollows her cheeks, taking you deeper, her throat opening around you with practiced ease. You can feel the back of her tongue, the way her nails dig into your thighs when she pulls back, only to swallow you down again.
“Ning—fuck—” Your voice is rough, broken, and she hums in response, making your knees weak. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, her lips stretched obscenely around your cock. She pulls off with a wet pop, her tongue swiping over her bottom lip. “You like that?” she asks, her voice husky. “Like watching me choke on your cock?”
You don’t answer with words. Instead, you tighten your grip in her hair and guide her back down, your hips rolling forward. She takes you eagerly, her throat gagging as you hit the back of it, her fingers digging into your ass to pull you deeper.
Outside, you hear the bathroom door opening and someone enters, but Ning doesn’t stop, she just moans around you, the sound muffled and desperate at the same time. You can feel your orgasm building the tight coil of pleasure in your gut, but you’re not ready to finish like this. Not yet.
“Stand up.”
Ning obeys instantly, rising to her feet with a smirk. You spin her around, pressing her front against the wall, her hands splaying against the side for balance. She arches her back, pushing her ass against you, teasing you even more. You kick your pants the rest of the way off and yank her skirt up,
Her thong is already soaked, the lace clinging to her, and you don’t bother with finesse—you shove the fabric aside and slide two fingers through her folds, groaning at how wet she is.
“Fuck, you’re dripping,” you mutter, circling her clit with your thumb. She whimpers, her hips rocking back against your hand. “You like sucking me off that much, huh?”
“Less talking,” she pants, “more fucking.”
You don’t need to be told twice. You line yourself up, the head of your cock notching against her entrance, and then you’re pushing inside in one smooth thrust.
Ning cries out, her fingers scrambling against the wall as she takes you to the hilt. She’s tight, her walls clenching around you, and you have to pause for a second just to breathe, your forehead pressing against the back of her neck.
Then you start moving.
The stall is too small, the angle awkward, but none of that matters. You grip her hip with one hand, the other bracing against the wall as you fuck her hard, each snap of your hips driving a broken gasp from her lips. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the space, Ning doesn’t care who hears. “Harder,” she demands, her voice raw. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
You obey and give her what she wants.
Your fingers dig into her hip, bruising, as you pound into her, the stall door rattling with every thrust. Ning’s moans are loud, unashamed, her body trembling as she pushes back against you, meeting you stroke for stroke. “Yes—right there—don’t stop—” Her words dissolve into a broken cry as her orgasm hits, her pussy clamping down around you so tightly around you. You continued pumping into her, fucking Ning through her orgasm.
Suddenly, the door creaks open, just enough to reveal Karina leaning against the frame, one hand already buried between her thighs, her bra shoved down to free those heavy swaying tits. Her fingers glistening, her breath coming in short, as she watches you continue to fuck Ning.
“So that’s where you love birds went”
"Couldn't even wait for me?”
Your rhythm falters for half a second, just long enough for you to gaze to lock onto her bountiful chest, and then lower at the way her finger continues to move as she fingers herself while watching the both of you fuck. You stare a little too long, long enough for Ning to notice. Of course she does, she notices everything. As if to gain back control, Ning arches and presses her ass tighter against you, squeezing tighter to remind you who you belong to.
“What do you want? He’s mine, stop trying to take things away from me bitch.”
Karina laughs, her fingers never stopping their slow, wet strokes.
"Sure, he’s fucking you," Her other hand moves to her nipple and pinches it, “but he’s staring at my tits.” She steps closer, close enough so that the both of you can smell the scent of her arousal. “You’ll never know what that feels like, right? Having a man completely obsessed with your body?"
“Shut up, at least my pussy is not as loose as yours with the number of guys you have fucked.” You could tell Ning was losing ground with what Karina said. It definitely triggered some sort of insecurity in Ning. Ning was pushing her ass harder against you, in her desperate attempt to regain whatever form of control that was left.
For some twisted reason, the words triggered a spark in you, Your cock twitches inside Ning, swelling thicker, and you groan, your grip on her hips bruising as you drive into her harder. The sound of flesh meeting flesh grew louder, wetter, the stall filling with the scent of sex and the slick, obscene noises of Karina getting herself off just feet away. Ning whimperes, her nails scraping against the wall, but she didn’t protest again. Not that she could when you were fucking her like this—not when your attention was split between the tight, clenching heat of her pussy and the hypnotic sway of Karina’s tits. She hates to admit it but you could tell that Ning was equally turned on by this situation
"Fuck," you grunt, your balls drawing up tight. Ning must’ve felt it. With a breathy, filthy laugh, she pulls forward, your cock slipping free with a wet pop, and drops to her knees without a word. Her hands immediately went to your shaft, stroking you roughly, her tongue darting out to lap at the pre-cum beading at your tip. "Gonna paint this pretty little slut face?" Karina chuckles as she steps even closer, her thighs trembling.
You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not when Ning’s lips parts, her tongue flat against the underside of your cock, guiding you right to the target. The first rope of cum hit her cheek, thick and white, splattering against her porcelain skin before the next shot paints her nose, her lips. She moans, eyes fluttering shut as she tilts her head back, letting you mark her, her fingers still working your base to milk out every last drop. Karina watches, her own breath hitching, her fingers moving faster between her legs. "God, you two are filthy,"
Before Ning could react, Karina was kneeling beside her, one hand cupping Ning’s chin as she leans in. Their lips met in a slow, open-mouthed kiss, Karina’s tongue sweeping out to gather the cum dripping down Ning’s cheek. Ning made a soft, needy sound, her body swaying toward Karina’s, but her eyes never left yours. Karina pulls back just enough to smirk, her lips shiny with your release. "Mmm. Delicious." She licks her lower lip deliberately, then turns her gaze up at you, before finally staring at Ning "Let me join you this time. I want to suck his dick with you."
Pulled my weight with Ning fic, over to you kind sir @jupiterpilgrim
Male Reader x Miyeon (& Jisoo cameo) | 17k words | Masterlist
Tags: fluff, romcom, smut, au
--
Sometimes, a mistake is just a mistake. But other times, a wrong number is the only right thing that happens to you all year.
You spend 40 hours a week arranging romance for strangers, so you know better than anyone that the best love stories usually start with some kind of disaster.
And yours was no different.
The first time Cho Miyeon ever texted you, you were just the fake number that her one-night-stand threw into her phone. The second time, she was drunk-texting you a week later asking if you were sure you weren’t him.
So why is it that the universe thought it’d be funny to make her the girl who comes in every week, buying flowers to mourn her own love life—completely unaware that the guy she’s been texting nonstop is also the one wrapping them?
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
“I want it to look exactly like this,” a woman says, tapping a newly bridal-manicured nail on her phone screen. “Cascading orchids, but with real blue roses.”
She’s holding a photo of a Pinterest bouquet that defies the laws of nature, and you are trying your absolute best not to laugh. Or cry.
“Ma’am,” you say, wiping your hands on your apron. “Those aren’t real. That’s either photoshopped, AI generated, or manually dyed.”
She blinks at you, offended. “My cousin had blue roses.”
“I’m sorry, but naturally blue roses don’t exist,” you correct her, gently. “Unless you want me to genetically engineer a new species in the back room during my lunch break tomorrow, we’re going to have to use spray paint.”
“Paint?” she asks, horrified. “For my engagement party?”
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, possibly right before the part where she’s demanding to speak to the manager of nature. You expect a text from your best friend Minho asking if you want to get drinks later to mourn your newly single status, but instead, it’s a number you don’t recognize.
[Unknown]
hey ☺️
i think i left my earrings on your nightstand
also, my legs are still shaking 😝
You blink, then look up at the bride-to-be—who’s now aggressively zooming in on the impossible blue roses—then back down at the text. You can’t tell if you feel jealousy or pity towards this person. Legs shaking—so a good night—but no way to contact the person responsible? Well, that’s more action than you’re getting, at least.
[You]
pretty sure you have the wrong number
i have a nightstand but no earrings
hope your legs recover though
“So,” you say, slipping the phone back into your apron. “For the roses. We can do white, or we can do paint. Or I can give you a marker and you can do it yourself.”
“Look at all these blue roses on Google.”
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
The florist life is not nearly as romantic as people think it is. Or at all, really.
Movies make it look like you spend your days gently misting ferns while soft acoustic music plays in the background, but in reality, your hands are permanently stained green, you have thorn scratches on your forearms that make you look like you hang out with feral cats, and you spend half of your time hauling buckets of water that weigh as much as a fully grown female Golden Retriever.
Your family owns Petal & Thorn, a small shop tucked away in a quiet alleyway in Gangnam. It’s not glamorous by any means, but it’s steady enough to pay the bills. Plus, you enjoy the peace on most days.
Lately, though, the quiet haunts you.
Jisoo moved out two months ago and the apartment feels too big now. The silence in the shop used to be tranquil, but now it just feels like an echo of the emptiness at home.
It’s the middle of January, right in the dead of winter, and you’ve gone full-blown workaholic mode. You aren’t just ignoring the looming threat of Valentine’s Day—you’re actively dreading it. Because aside from being the busiest day of the year for a florist, just the idea of facing it alone makes you sadder than you care to admit—but if you stop wrapping bouquets for five minutes, you might actually have to process those feelings, and you simply do not have the time for that.
Not after what Jisoo did to you.
The mysterious wrong number never replies. She probably saw your text, died of embarrassment, and threw her phone into the Han River.
So you forget about her completely.
…Until exactly one week later, when the first snow is threatening to fall.
You’re about six or seven shots of soju deep at a pocha when Minho slams his hand on the table, rattling the empty bottles.
“Okay, listen, you need to stop moping,” he says, pointing a pair of chopsticks at you. “Jisoo wasn’t even that great. Sure, she was hot, but she thought Your Name was boring. Like, come on, she didn’t cry at the twilight scene—matter of fact, she didn’t even tear up! That’s a red flag, hyung. A massive red flag.”
“I’m not moping,” you lie, pushing a piece of pork belly around your plate. “I’m just tired. I had to wrestle a cactus into a customer’s sedan today because she didn’t want to pay for delivery. It was exhausting.”
“You think that’s exhausting?" Minho scoffs, pouring himself another shot. “Try being on dating apps in 2026. I swiped right on four hundred girls last night. Four hundred! And do you know how many matches I got?”
“I don’t know—ten?”
He holds up two fingers aggressively. “Two! And one of them was a bot trying to steal my crypto.”
“Oh no, not the whole 65,000 won of XPR,” you say flatly.
“Shut up, I’ve got more than that.” He knocks back the shot and shudders. “Look, I’m saying it’s a wasteland out here. I have to deal with ghosting and catfishes, and you’re crying over a girl who didn’t appreciate an anime masterpiece.”
“So what, you think I need to suffer with you?”
“No.” He leans in, his eyes almost too serious. “You need a distraction, hyung. A rebound. Something messy to restart the flame.”
You snicker. “A messy rebound is the last thing I need right now.”
“Look, I just need you back in the game, because if I have to go on one more blind date alone, I’m going to become a monk—”
Suddenly, your phone lights up on the sticky wooden table.
[Unknown]
are you SURE you’re not him?
You stare at it. It’s the wrong number from three weeks ago. You’d almost forgotten about her.
It buzzes again before you could even pick it up.
[Unknown]
i don’t understand why he would give me a fake number
we had such a good night
he said he wanted to see me again
Minho cranes his neck. “Who is that? Is it Jisoo? She wants you back, doesn’t she?” he asks, looking almost offended. “Tell her you’re busy. Tell her you’re watching Your Name because you don’t think destiny is a hoax.”
“It’s not her,” you say, unlocking the screen. “Just a wrong number.”
But for whatever reason, you don’t put it down.
Maybe it’s the soju, or maybe it’s Minho’s annoying lecture, but you feel a sudden urge to engage with this person again.
[You]
still not him
still no earrings
still just a random stranger that you’re exposing all your secrets to
The reply is instant.
[Unknown]
omfg this is so embarrassing
i’m going to throw my phone out the window
bye
You snort, almost unwillingly.
Minho stuffs a piece of kimchi in his mouth and looks at you like you’re crazy. “You’re smiling,” he says, chewing suspiciously. “Why are you smiling at a wrong number?”
“She’s funny,” you murmur, typing back.
“She? How do you know it’s a girl? What if it’s a catfish scammer trying to steal your crypto?”
[You]
don’t throw your phone
not in this economy
just blame the alcohol and move on
[Unknown]
i’m not drunk!!!
okay actually i had three glasses of wine
but if i don’t drink i might accidentally strangle a client tomorrow
[You]
lol what are you, a hitman?
[Unknown]
worse
i help people find their happiness
[You]
ah you’re a therapist
i can see why you need to drink then
[Unknown]
not a therapist but i do double as one more often than i should
what about you?
it’s kinda giving ✨ unemployed ✨
[You]
only on non-holidays 💁♂️
[Unknown]
don’t tell me you’re a mall santa
You chuckle into your shot glass. Minho looks over, judging you, but you ignore him.
[You]
no i’m a florist
but i deal with just as many tantrums
[Unknown]
wait no way
are you serious
im a wedding planner
we’re in the same circle of hell
[You]
that explains why you’re drinking
you have to spend your days planning people’s happily ever afters knowing that love doesn’t last 😌
[Unknown]
damn who hurt you
[You]
love hurt me
[Unknown]
love isn’t even real
take it from a wedding planner
[You]
and take it from someone who grows flowers for a living that nothing pretty ever lasts
[Unknown]
wow marry me
it’ll be the cheapest wedding ever because we’ll both hate it
You laugh out loud this time, and a couple of tables look over.
“Wow, I haven’t heard that in a while.” Minho leans back, looking satisfied. “See? I told you. You just needed a distraction. You owe me dinner now.”
“Yeah,” you say, saving her number. You hesitate for a second, then type in ‘Wrong Number’. “Just a distraction—wait, what do I owe you dinner for? You didn’t do anything.”
“I helped you see the light,” he says, waving the server down for another bottle of soju.
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
It all started as a joke, a way to pass the time between deliveries and botanical consultations.
But as hours turn into days and days bleed into weeks, the slush of winter settles over Seoul, and the doom and gloom of Valentine’s Day stops feeling so scary. Wrong Number stops being just a distraction. She starts becoming a routine, something almost like a reflex.
And then, without even realizing it, eventually she’s the best part of your day.
The conversations shift seamlessly. They stop being just about bridezillas and cheating husbands and start bleeding into the cracks of your daily lives. You find yourself taking photos of things just to show her—a stray cat sleeping on a bag of fertilizer, a customer wearing a hat that looks like a mushroom, even the way the light hits the Han River on your way home.
You occasionally ask her for fashion advice, like which tie you should wear to your cousin’s wedding (she votes for the navy one, says the maroon makes you look like a Gryffindor). She sends you photos of three different cake samples and asks you to pick the one that “doesn’t look like it tastes like regret” (you pick the red velvet).
Funny enough, you don’t even know her name, and she doesn’t know yours, but you know she hates the color beige (“it’s the color of sadness, why do brides love it?”), loves every shade of green (you’re certain that, given your line of work, will be your final form eventually), and that she listens to J-rock when she’s stressed because it calms her down.
You also know that for all her confidence, her love life is a graveyard of one-to-two-week flings and almost-somethings. That she dates guys who look like models in photos but can’t hold a conversation to save their lives, and the moment she starts asking for actual vulnerability—or just something an inch deeper than surface level—they all seem to suddenly “not feel it anymore.”
But best of all, she knows you, too.
She knows you think red roses are the lazy man’s apology and that you secretly judge every husband who buys carnations for an anniversary. She knows you have a scar on your left thumb from a frantic Mother’s Day rush three years ago, and that you’re both on a never-ending quest for the city’s best shrimp scampi. In fact, you’ve been comparing notes on every restaurant you’ve tried, though she keeps reminding you that hers is still undefeated—and that you’re an idiot for not believing her.
Most importantly, she knows exactly how long you dated Jisoo (three years, four months, two weeks—but who’s counting?). She knows the exact moment you realized it was over: not when she told you that she wanted to be with “someone more ambitious”, but when you saw her buying coffee with her investment banking co-worker and realized she looked happier waiting in line with him than she ever looked on a vacation with you.
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
[You]
saw an investment banker today
almost threw a cactus at him
[Wrong Number]
well, did you?
[You]
no i have professional restraint
plus it’s not even the same guy
[Wrong Number]
coward
next time aim for the eyes and ask questions later
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
[Wrong Number]
ok date update
he brought a coupon to dinner
first date btw
[You]
hmm fiscally responsible or just an investment banker?
[Wrong Number]
not sure but he argued with the waiter over 5000 won so i’m going to fake my own death before the entree arrives
[You]
i have just the flowers for your pretend funeral
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
[Wrong Number]
emergency 🚨
groom just told me he's allergic to lilies
the bride ordered 300 of them
the ceremony is in 6 hours
do i just let him suffer for love???
[You]
yes tell him marriage is about sacrifice
but if he’s marrying someone who doesn’t know he’s allergic to lilies that’s his own problem
[Wrong Number]
lmao you’re evil
and also correct
but i’m switching them to dahlias because im a wedding planner not a funeral director
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
[Wrong Number]
ugh just got home
my feet are killing me
weddings are sooo long
if i ever say i want to get married please come find me and slap me
[You]
wait i thought we were getting married
[Wrong Number]
oh i changed my mind
happens all the time apparently
[You]
not the first time someone’s changed their mind about me
wishing you the best in your future
[Wrong Number]
wait no come back
i refuse to be abandoned by the only person in the world who gets me
It’s refreshing, a relationship built entirely in the glowing blue light of a screen, with no expectations and no messy reality to ruin it. You wake up and reach for your phone before you even open your eyes, and even catch yourself smiling in the middle of arranging funeral wreaths, confusing your coworkers.
You tell yourself it’s enough—that you don’t need to know who she is, how she sounds, or what she looks like. Minho wanted it to be messy, but the only thing messy is an actual relationship. Not this—whatever this is.
But then there are days when you realize that a phone screen, no matter how bright, doesn’t have a heartbeat, and as much as you enjoy the banter, the “good morning” texts, and the weird intimacy of sharing your darkest thoughts with a stranger, there are moments when the silence of your apartment gets too loud.
The breakup with Jisoo didn’t just leave a hole in your message inbox, it left a hole in your heart. Sometimes you just miss the sound of someone else breathing in the room or the weight of a hand on your arm. You miss simply looking at someone and feeling your heart race.
And that’s where Tuesday Girl comes in.
You call her that because she appears every Tuesday afternoon around 2:00 PM. She’s the only customer who never asks for advice, or for a bouquet for a lover, or a centerpiece for a mother-in-law; she just comes in, wanders all the aisles, and… breathes.
Today, the bell above the door jingles, cutting through the silence of a Tuesday afternoon. You look up from a bucket of stripping shears, and there she is.
She’s wearing her usual oversized coat and a scarf pulled up to her nose. And as usual, she looks exhausted—dark circles under her eyes, shoulders slumped—but when she stops in front of the dahlias, her expression softens.
You watch her from behind the counter. It’s unprofessional, maybe, but you can’t help it. Even amongst all the aisles of flowers, she’s still the most beautiful sight in the room.
“Rough week?” you ask gently. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to her beyond “cash or card?”
She jumps slightly, looking back. “Is it that obvious?” she says, shoulders relaxing the moment her eyes lock with yours.
“Well, you’re staring at those flowers like you want to cut them in half or set them on fire,” you say, wiping your hands on your apron. “I can’t tell which.”
She lets out a short, breathy laugh. “Both, maybe,” she says, turning to them. “They’re too cheerful. It’s suspicious.”
“They’re ranunculus,” you say, walking just a little closer. “They might look soft, but they’re deceptively high-maintenance, if that helps.”
“Hm… it does, actually…” she says, picking out three stems. “I’ll go with these today then, just to see.”
“See what?”
“If I can keep them alive longer than 24 hours,” she says, shrugging. “I have a theory that things wilt faster when they’re around me.”
You chuckle, and politely take them from her. “Maybe you just need some maintenance advice,” you say, laying the flowers down gently. “When you get home, cut the stems at an angle with a sharp knife, not scissors—scissors crush the capillaries so they can’t drink.”
She blinks, leaning in slightly, genuinely listening. “Okay. Knife, not scissors. No crushing.”
“Right. And change the water every day. Use cold water,” you instruct, your hands moving carefully as you trim the ends for her. “And keep them away from your fruit bowl.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “My fruit bowl? What did my apples ever do to them?”
“Apples release ethylene gas,” you say, glancing up to catch her eyes. “It makes flowers age faster. It’s like second-hand smoke for them.”
She stares at you for a second, and then a slow, genuine smile breaks across her face. “Are you actually trying to protect these flowers from my killer apples? Shouldn’t you want them to be victims so I can buy more?”
“I’m just protecting your investment,” you say, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the shop’s heater.
“My three whole stems,” she says, holding onto her chest. “Saved by the nice man who hates apples.”
You smile. “I just want them to last until next Tuesday at least.”
“I’ll report back next Tuesday then,” she says, tucking the flowers into her bag. “If you don’t see me, it’s because my fruits got arrested in time.”
“See you,” you reply, watching her walk out into the gray afternoon.
You stand there for a long time, just staring at the door, wondering you’d just broke her Tuesday schedule with your unsolicited plant advice.
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
Later that night, you’re heating up leftover kimchi jjigae in your quiet apartment when your phone lights up on the counter.
[Wrong Number]
i have decided to become a nun
dating is a scam invented by restaurants to sell overpriced pasta that isn’t even as good as what i can make
[You]
you keep hyping up this pasta that i’ll never get to try
but what happened this time?
[Wrong Number]
he wore sunglasses inside
the entire time
i asked him if he had an eye infection and he said “no, it’s just a vibe”
i left before dessert
(and before you judge, i paid for my half)
[You]
it must’ve been really bad if you didn’t even stay for dessert
[Wrong Number]
ugh i’m serious
i’m so done with men
they are either boring, terrified of feelings, or wearing sunglasses indoors
[You]
as a man, that sounds pretty accurate
[Wrong Number]
what about you? you never talk about your dating life
you can’t tell me you just arrange bouquets all day and then go home to talk to a stranger on the internet
wait, we’re not even on the internet
You stare at the steam rising from your bowl. You think about Jisoo and the emptiness she left, about the digital comfort of this conversation, and then, about Tuesday Girl and her cute oversized coat.
[You]
i mean i kinda have a crush on someone
but it’s not going to happen
[Wrong Number]
oooh tea??
why not? is she married?
[You]
no i don’t think so
she’s a regular customer who comes in every week, doesn’t say much, and just buys flowers for herself
[Wrong Number]
wait i buy myself flowers whats wrong with that
but wow a mysterious independent woman who doesn’t need a man
i like her already
so then what’s the problem?
[You]
idk she just seems sad all the time
i feel like if i tried to flirt i’d just be bothering her
plus i froze today
i couldn’t even ask for her name lol
[Wrong Number]
that’s so classic you
ok look, from one sad girl to another, sometimes we want someone to break the ice for us
next time she comes in just give her an extra flower on the house and see if she smiles
[You]
you really think that would work?
[Wrong Number]
i know it will work
trust me i’m an expert on what women want since men clearly have no clue
[You]
hmm okay i’ll give it a try
if it doesn’t work you owe me pasta
[Wrong Number]
deal
now entertain me please
i’m in the tub soaking in this new lush bath bomb but my ex’s netflix account just locked me out
tell me about the worst customer you had today
You smile and type out the story, completely unaware that the woman giving you advice on how to woo the sad customer is currently sitting in her own bathtub, looking at the three ranunculus stems in a vase, wondering what the cute florist is doing.
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
Two days later, you’re seeking refuge in your usual sanctuary: a small cafe two blocks from the flower shop. You like it because the baristas all know your order and never seem to judge you for staring at the wall during your lunch breaks.
You’re midway through your coffee, scrolling through supplier invoices, when the bell above the door chimes.
You look up.
It’s her.
Tuesday Girl—but it’s a Thursday, and she’s standing in the doorway of your coffee shop, shaking snow off that same oversized coat.
Panic immediately washes over you. Seeing her in the flower shop is one thing, that’s your turf—you have the counter, the apron, and the professionalism to save you from freaking out—but seeing her here, in the wild, is terrifying. It’s like seeing a teacher at the supermarket.
She steps into the line, waiting behind a guy wearing the most obnoxious puffer jacket you’ve seen in ages. You watch her like a private investigator as she turns slightly, profiling her side profile to you—and it is absolutely profiling, sidely. She looks so pretty, so lovely, so sad, but also so unapproachable.
But then, she tries to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, misses, and accidentally pokes herself directly in the eye.
She winces, blinks rapidly, and looks around in a panic to see if anyone saw her—completely oblivious to the fact that you are sitting twenty feet away, watching her with your heart in your throat while trying your best not to die from how adorable she is.
This is it. The universe is giving you a redo. Just stand up and walk over there. Say, “Hey, it’s me, the flower guy. How are the ranunculus doing? Did the apples get them or did the bananas step it up this week?”
Your spark of courage is short-lived when you realize you actually have no idea how to start this conversation. You grip your coffee cup. You shift in your seat. You watch her order something complicated with oat milk.
Ten minutes pass and she turns to scan for a table. Her eyes sweep right over you, and you hunch your shoulders like a reflex, terrified she’ll recognize you—but also equally terrified she won’t.
You watch discreetly as she sits at a table in the corner, pulls out her phone, and vanishes into her own world.
You let out a breath. You failed again.
The frustration burns in your chest; you need to vent, and there is only one person who will understand the specific absurdity of this situation, so without thinking, you pull out your phone. It’s ridiculous and it’s embarrassing, but you absolutely need to tell someone, and there is only one person you tell everything to.
[You]
i’m at a coffee shop and the sad girl is here
You look back up at the girl, who’s now typing something on her phone with the kind of smile that has to be reserved for a boyfriend of some sort—it’s too joyful, especially coming from her.
[Wrong Number]
and did you ask her name this time?
[You]
no i’m scared
[Wrong Number]
omfg
ask her out!!!
what is the worst that could happen?
[You]
idk??? she could say no
and then i have to find a new place to buy coffee because i’ll never be able to show my face in this neighborhood again
[Wrong Number]
you are hopeless
do it right now or i’m blocking you
[You]
easy for you to say you ghost everyone
[Wrong Number]
true
but seriously ask this girl out
you do realize she could be sitting there waiting for you to say something right?
You stare at the screen, and then back at the girl, who’s now sipping on whatever fancy drink she ordered.
Wrong Number is right. Life is short. You are a grown man. You can do this.
You take a deep breath and place your hands on the table to push yourself up. Today is the day—you are going to walk over there, and you are going to ask Tuesday Girl for her name. Not even divine intervention can stop you from—
The bell above the door chimes again, a little louder than the other times, interrupting your plan.
A man walks in, stopping you in your tracks for no apparent reason at all. He’s tall, wearing an expensive camel coat, and his hair is perfectly permed—basically, the complete opposite of you. He fixes his scarf and scans the room, spotting the corner table, and smiles.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says, his voice carrying across the quiet shop.
Tuesday Girl looks up. She locks her phone, slides it into her pocket, and stands up.
“Oh, it’s fine,” she says, offering the man a polite, shy smile. “I just got here.”
You freeze, still halfway out of your chair.
She wasn’t sitting alone because she was lonely. She was waiting for a date.
You sink right back down, your heart dropping right into your stomach, watching as Camel Coat Guy puts a hand on her lower back and guides her toward the counter to get his own drink.
As much as you hate to admit it, they look good together.
[You]
nvm she was waiting for a date
he looks like he owns a yacht
You don’t wait for a reply; you grab your coat and your half-finished Americano and slip out the side door before they can turn around.
You walk back to the flower shop, kicking the slush around the sidewalk with every step, telling yourself it’s better this way—that fairy tales aren’t real, and the sad girl you see on Tuesdays was never going to be yours anyway, no matter what Wrong Number had to say about it.
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
“You’re moping again,” Minho says, skating backwards past you with infuriating grace. “You’re bringing down the entire vibe of this establishment. Look—that child over there is crying because he sensed your sad boy aura.”
“He’s crying because he fell on his face,” you mutter, clinging to the railing. “And I’m not moping. I’m fighting for my life on these rentals.”
“You’re moping about fumbling a girl you see every week.” Minho spins, spraying a fine mist of ice onto your shins. “So what if Tuesday has a boyfriend with a nice coat. Big deal. What about the girl you’ve been texting non-stop? Isn’t she a candidate?”
“Who?” you say, pushing off the wall to attempt a wobble that vaguely resembles skating.
He shrugs. “I don’t know her name. I don’t even think you do.”
“Oh, her—I don’t, actually,” you say, right before slipping.
“Yeah, well, what’s wrong with her?” he asks, unfazed that you just fell the hundredth time.
“Nothing, she’s great.” You pause, sitting on the ice, thinking back to the endless texts. “Honestly, she’s the funniest person I’ve talked to in years. We have really great chemistry, but… she doesn’t even feel real. Sometimes it feels like she’s just… pixels on a screen.”
“So make her real,” Minho says, skating circles around you, both literally and figuratively. “She lives in Seoul, doesn’t she? Why haven’t you guys met yet? It’s been weeks.”
“It just hasn’t come up,” you say defensively, brushing the ice off your gloves. “And we don’t want to ruin the vibes. Right now, everything’s perfect. No expectations, no awkward silences. If we meet, reality messes everything up. What if we have zero chemistry in person? What if she chews with her mouth open? I’d rather not ruin the friendship.”
“Wow, hyung—you are a coward,” he declares, shaking his head.
“What? How?”
“You are protecting a fantasy because you’re scared.”
“Whatever,” you grunt, getting back up. “I’m happy with what we have.”
He stops in front of you, blocking your path. “Okay, forget the pixels then. Look around. We are at Lotte World. The happiest place in Seoul. Surrounded by eligible women who are likely freezing and in need of body heat.”
You look around at the sea of school uniforms and cat-ear headbands.
“Minho, they’re all high schoolers. If I hit on anyone here, I’m going to jail. And if I go to jail, I won’t be able to tex—I mean—I don’t have time for prison.”
“Not everyone,” he corrects, straightening his coat and narrowing his eyes, scanning the crowd like a predator on the Discovery Channel. “There—target acquired. Three o’clock, by the skate rental. No uniform, expensive coat, looks like she needs saving from a bad day.”
You look. A tall woman is standing by the rental counter, looking rather impatient, but she is indeed an adult.
“Observe,” he says confidently. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
He glides over to her. You watch from a safe distance, gripping the rail, as he stops with a flourish and smiles—that stupid, dimpled smile that usually only works on ahjummas. He gestures to the ice, points to the concession stand, and then leans in with what he probably thinks is swag.
The woman stares at him. She doesn’t smile back; she just points toward the exit, where a man holding two toddlers is walking toward her.
Minho’s smile freezes. He nods, bows deeply—twice—and skates back to you at high speed.
“Well?” you ask, even though you already know.
“Husband. And twins.”
“Nice.”
“Okay, maybe it’s really over for the both of us.” He leans against the rail next to you, slumping his shoulders. “Valentine’s Day is next week, hyung. Next week. We are going to watch Jujutsu Kaisen together while the rest of Seoul goes to Michelin-rated restaurants with their lovers, aren’t we?”
“We’ll survive,” you say, holding back a sigh.
“Will we?” He rubs his face. “It’s been so long since I went on a proper date, I think I’ve lost all my rizz.”
The sigh finally comes out. “You never had any rizz to begin with.”
“I’m drying up here,” he whines, ignoring what you just said. “At this point, I’m essentially a monk with better hair.”
“Same here,” you say, watching all the couples holding hands, skating together around the rink. “We might as well spend Valentine’s Day at a monastery.”
He looks at you. “How long has it been for you? Since Jisoo?”
You stare at the ice, scuffed and scarred by a thousand blades. “Yeah,” you admit quietly. “It’s been a while.”
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
The apartment is quiet, as usual. You’re lying in bed, watching the light from your phone illuminate the ceiling while Minho’s words rings in your ears.
How long has it been for you? Since Jisoo?
It has been a long time. The emotional intimacy with Wrong Number is satisfying, yes, but after seeing Tuesday Girl with her date, and hearing Minho complain about his dry spell, you are suddenly painfully aware of the physical loneliness.
Your phone buzzes, and sadly, even that is enough to send something tingly through you.
[Wrong Number]
so my friend just told me i have virgin energy because i wouldn’t let a guy buy me a drink the other night
me? virgin?
i’ve never felt more insulted
You smile. Her timing is just always impeccable.
[You]
well is she wrong?
[Wrong Number]
EXCUSE ME?
whose side are you on?
[You]
i’m just saying
you talk a big game for someone who spends her saturday nights talking to a florist she never met
[Wrong Number]
wow
for your information i have seen the inside of three different bedrooms this month
You blink. You actually feel a weird hint of jealousy, which is ridiculous because you have no right to it. At all.
[You]
congratulations
enjoy your happiness
and orgasms
[Wrong Number]
i can assure you there is no happiness involved
and definitely no orgasms
i wake up and i just want to leave so i can talk to you
clearly i am broken
The jealousy vanishes instantly, replaced by something strange but warm. I just want to leave so I can talk to you.
[You]
you’re not broken
i’m just so interesting you can’t help it
[Wrong Number]
if this is rizz then i can see why you’re single 😑
anyways what about you
when was the last time for you
[You] a while
[Wrong Number]
how long is a while?
pre-pandemic?
pre-iphone?
[You]
shut up
like a month before my ex left so like four months ago
honestly i think i’ve forgotten how to do it
if i meet a girl tomorrow i’d just disappoint her the way all the guys are disappointing you
[Wrong Number]
doubt it
you have nice hands
You stare at the text. You have nice hands. It’s the first time she’s ever complimented you physically—but she’s never even seen you.
[You]
you don’t even know what my hands look like
[Wrong Number]
florists always have nice hands
good at handling delicate things without breaking them? sign me up
Your mouth goes dry. Is she flirting with you now? At a time like this?
You try to think of a reply, but she’s already typing again.
[Wrong Number]
anyway
we’re a tragic pair
one of us is starving and the other one is eating garbage
[You]
we should probably fix that
[Wrong Number]
yeah
we probably should
Neither of you reply after that. The silence that follows isn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it’s mutual. It’s the silence of two friends too afraid to across the line, but too curious to see what’s on the other side.
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
Valentine’s Day in a flower shop is anything but romantic.
By 2:00 PM, you’ve stripped thorns off six hundred roses, written “I love you” on cards for men who definitely do not mean it, and mediated an argument between a husband and a mistress who accidentally ordered from the same account. Your hands are scratched up, your apron is covered in green slime, and the only reason you are still standing is thanks to the three espressos and your sheer hatred towards Saint Valentine for selling his soul away to capitalism.
One of your co-workers conveniently called in sick last minute, so Minho volunteered to help. He’s barricaded behind a wall of baby’s breath in the backroom, frantically wrapping bouquets like he’s diffusing bombs.
“If I see one more teddy bear,” he yells over the sound of the cooler humming, “I am going to strangle it!”
“Just focus!” you snap, cutting a ribbon with your teeth. “We only have twenty minutes before the 5:00 PM rush.”
That’s when your phone buzzes on the counter.
You wipe your wet hands on your apron and check it, expecting a supplier update—or at the very least, a funny text from Wrong Number to make everything better.
It’s neither.
[Kim Jisoo]
hey, i know it’s been a while, but i’m in the neighborhood.
do you think we can talk for a bit?
maybe over dinner?
after you get off, of course.
Your stomach drops—and so does your phone and the flowers you were working so hard on. Your brain starts malfunctioning as you stare at the screen on the counter. The timing couldn’t be worse.
You should say no, of course. You should ignore her, even, but the exhaustion makes you weak, the loneliness makes you desperate, and the memory of three years together makes you hesitate just long enough to confuse yourself.
You need backup. You can’t do this alone.
[You]
SOS
code red
the ex just texted saying she wants to talk
The response takes about a minute, but it’s the longest minute of your life.
[Wrong Number]
WHAT
no!!!
absolutely not
tell her to go away
[You]
she’s already in the neighborhood so she’s probably coming to the shop
i think she wants to get back together
i’m so tired i might actually cave
[Wrong Number]
DON’T YOU DARE
you are weak
[You] yes we already knew that
[Wrong Number]
ugh don’t do this to me!!
i’m finally gonna go on a date with someone decent but i WILL leave to save you if i have to
[You]
what no
don’t ruin your night for me
[Wrong Number]
i’ll ruin my night to make sure you don’t ruin your life
what’s the name of your flower shop and what time do you close?
You casually tell her, just for the hell of it, and put the phone down. She’s joking, obviously—she’s not actually going to leave a date to come save a stranger she’s never met. It’s just your usual banter.
Right?
By 8:00 PM, the rush has finally died down. Minho went to go drink away the trauma with a foreigner he found on Hinge, and the shop is empty and quiet, still smelling of crushed stems.
Your hands are ready to defy you completely, but you decide to make two more bouquets before retiring for the day.
The first one is simple; you’ve made it so many times that it’s muscle memory by now: pale pink roses—Jisoo’s favorite.
The second bouquet is something you’ve never really done before: four stems of pink ranunculus, surrounded by wild greenery, tied with a large ribbon.
You don’t really know why you’re making it. You don’t even know if she’ll like it. She’s probably not even coming—she’s on a hot date, after all. But if she does show up, maybe it could be a thank you for the digital moral support. Or maybe, deep down, you’re hoping that Tuesday Girl might walk in on a Saturday to get herself something for Valentine’s Day and you can finally give her the extra flower like you’d promised Wrong Number you’d do.
The bell above the door doesn’t jingle, but a knock rattles the glass.
You look up.
Jisoo is standing outside, breath fogging up the glass as she waves at you.
[You]
she’s here
You slip your phone back into your apron, take a deep breath, open the door, and let the past back in.
She looks exactly the same as the day she left.
“Hey,” Jisoo says with a soft smile, shaking the snow off her coat. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah,” you say, leaning back against the counter like it could save you. “It has.”
You don’t invite her to sit or offer her tea; you just stand there, in front of the two bouquets you made.
She walks toward you and turns to the roses. “You still remember,” she says, reaching out to touch a petal. “My favorite.”
“Just old habits,” you say, clearing your throat. “I made so many in the past.”
“You did.” She looks up at you, eyes wide and suspiciously sincere. “I’m really sorry for hurting you. I didn’t realize what we had was so precious until I experienced life without you. You really loved me, didn’t you?”
You did. You loved her in the only way you knew how. By shrinking yourself to fit into the spaces she made for you, by nodding along to everything she wanted without argument, and wearing shirts she picked for you even though you hated them. It was a love filled with swallowed opinions and unyielding compromise, but it was also a love filled with everything you had to give.
And in the end, everything still wasn’t enough.
“What happened to the investment banker?” you ask quietly. “You said he was so ambitious and perfect.”
She takes in a breath. “I know how shameful it sounds for me to say this, but it turns out he was only perfect on paper. A nice car, a big apartment, reservations at all the places I couldn’t get into,” she says, looking down. “But he didn’t know how to make me laugh. He didn’t know to ask for extra cucumber banchan without me telling him to, or that I need exactly three pillows to sleep. He didn’t care about my day, or rub my feet when I’ve had a long one.”
She looks at you, almost pleading. “He wasn’t you,” she finishes softly.
“I thought that was the point,” you say—not bitterly, just honestly.
She reaches across the counter and covers your hand with hers. “I know this sounds crazy, but I want to try again,” she whispers. “I know I screwed everything up, but I want to fix this. I don’t want to live without you. It doesn’t matter what I gain—all of it means nothing without you.”
You study her big, beautiful eyes, almost getting lost in them like you’ve done so many times in the past. The crazy thing is that she actually sounds sincere for once.
God, it would be so easy. You could easily say yes. You could hand her the flowers and go back to a life that makes sense—a life where you don’t have to be lonely on Saturday nights or holidays.
But then you look at her hand on yours, and realize… you don’t feel anything. Not for her, at least. The only thing you do feel is that itch in your heart; the burning curiosity of what it would be like to hold Wrong Number’s hand just once.
And from just that, you finally understand that your heart does remember how to yearn, just not for Jisoo. Not anymore.
You pull your hand away gently. “Jisoo,” you whisper, your voice almost shaking. “I don’t think—”
The bell above the door screams like a siren as it’s thrown open, and a gust of freezing wind sweeps into the shop, hitting your face.
You look up. Jisoo turns around, startled.
Your heart immediately skips a beat and a half. It’s… Tuesday Girl..?
You can’t recall ever being more shocked in your life, but you also can’t ignore that she looks absolutely stunning, even more so than usual. Actually, she looks so insanely pretty that it physically hurts you. She’s wearing a black dress under an open coat, her hair is curled and perfect, and she looks like she just walked out of a very expensive fashion shoot.
But she’s also breathless, her cheeks are flushed from running in the cold, and her eyes are blazing and alert in a way you’ve never seen before.
She stands in the doorway, scanning the room, shoulders rising and falling with every breath. Her gaze lands on Jisoo, where they linger for a few seconds, and then they shift to you.
She freezes. And so do you.
The puzzle pieces clash together violently in your head as you watch the realization also wash over her face in slow motion. She looks at the sign hanging on the window, then she looks at her phone, and then she looks at you.
“No way,” she breathes.
She walks up to the counter, her eyes glued to your face with a mix of both horror and wonder. You watch like a deer in headlights as she stops right next to Jisoo, ignoring her completely.
“It’s you?” she asks, her voice pitching up. “You’re Flower Boy?”
You stare at her. “And you’re Tuesday Girl?”
“I was surprised when you told me the name of the shop, but I thought you just coincidentally worked here!” she says, throwing her hands up. “I didn’t think you were him! I thought I was coming to save No Earrings, not the guy I—” She catches herself, her eyes widening, cheeks flushing a furious, lovely pink. “The guy I buy flowers from.”
Jisoo looks between the two of you, confused. “Who is she?”
Wrong Number finally turns to Jisoo, for just a second. “I’m the upgrade,” she says simply, and turns back to you, slamming her hand on the counter.
Jisoo blinks rapidly. “I’m sorry, wha—”
“I just walked out on a date!” she says, cutting her off. “I left a perfectly nice man who held the door open, didn’t wear sunglasses inside, and actually asked me questions about my job. I left him with the check—well, only because he said he owns three apartment buildings—and then I ran three blocks in these stupid heels because you texted me saying you were going to do something stupid.”
You cover your forehead. “Why would you—”
“Because you told me not to let you be weak!” She points a finger at you like she’s disciplining a dog. “You told me to stop you if you ever tried to go back to the past. So here I am, stopping you—”
“Excuse me,” Jisoo finally cuts in, her voice sharp with disbelief as steps forward, reclaiming her territory. “I don’t know who you think you are, but what do you mean stop him? You’re just some random girl—you don’t know anything about him!”
Wrong Number finally turns to look at her. She doesn’t flinch or back down; she just raises an eyebrow like it’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard.
“I don’t know him?” She lets out a dry laugh. “Are you sure about that? Where do I even start? Let’s see—I know he hates red roses because they’re lazy. I know he has a scar on his left thumb from a Mother’s Day rush three years ago that still feels weird when it rains. I also know he’s terrified of birds because a pigeon attacked him when he was seven. I know he puts hot sauce on his popcorn. I know he reads the end of a book first to make sure his favorite character survives.” She pauses briefly, then slowly continues. “And I know he stays up until 2am staring at the ceiling wondering if he’s good enough for anyone to stay because of someone.”
She takes a few steps closer to her, voice dropping even lower. “But what about you, Jisoo?” she asks, tilting her head. “What do you know?”
Jisoo flinches, taken aback. “W-what?”
“You dated him for three years. So tell me. What does he actually want to do with his life? What’s his dream?”
Jisoo falters, glancing at you for help. “Well… h-he wants to expand the shop, of course. He wants to… make it bigger. More successful.”
Wrong Number lets out a loud scoff, and shakes her head, looking at Jisoo with something close to pity. “You don’t know him at all,” she says simply. “He wants a really big garden to grow nothing but wildflowers because they’re the only things that don’t need perfection to survive. He wants a quiet life where he doesn’t have to impress anyone.”
“Well, I—”
“You think he isn’t ambitious because he doesn’t want a big franchise or own multiple rental properties or work with mega corporations,” she says, sounding almost offended on your behalf. “But his ambition is to just be happy—and that’s so much harder than just being rich.”
Jisoo opens her mouth to argue, but no words come out. She looks at you, stunned, realizing she never asked what actually makes you happy.
Wrong Number leans in, her gaze completely unwavering. “I know him better in three weeks of texting than you did in three years of dating, without ever even meeting him. So don’t tell me I don’t know him.”
Jisoo recoils as if she’s been slapped. She looks at you, waiting for you to deny it or defend her. You don’t.
Wrong Number turns away and steps closer to you, ignoring Jisoo completely now. “Do not take her back,” she says, her voice cracking just a little, the anger softening. “You are not a consolation prize for a failed relationship. You are not a backup plan for when someone gets tired of being lonely or neglected by their new partner.”
She takes a shaky breath, her eyes searching yours, as if desperate to make you understand.
“You’re the guy who protects my flowers from imaginary fruit crimes because you want them to live longer. You’re the guy who stays up to 3am with me to debate whether or not a zombie apocalypse would fix the housing market crisis. You’re also the only person who can make me laugh when I’m crying in a bathtub. You never met me and you treated me more like a person than all the people I’ve went on dates with. You actually care about what I have to say and remember things about me. You’re funny, you’re understanding, you’re witty, you’re kind, and you’re…”
She stops, as if hesitating to finish the sentence.
“You’re the best part of my day,” she finally says. “Every single day.”
Silence descends on the shop.
You look at the two women standing in front of you. There’s Tuesday Girl—the soft, sad eyes you fell for in person, but you also see Wrong Number—the friendship, fire, and humor you fell for in the dark.
Somehow, they’re the same person. They always were. And she left her first decent date in months to come fight for you, to tell you things that no one’s ever said about you—things that you don’t even think you deserve to hear, but she says it with so much sincerity that you have no choice other than to believe it.
You don’t answer her with words; you reach behind the counter and pick up the second bouquet, holding them out to her.
“I made these for you,” you say quietly.
She stares at the flowers, eyes widening. Her tough exterior crumbles as she looks from the pink petals to your face, and a slow, disbelief-filled smile spreads across her face.
“Why did you make this?” she whispers. “How’d you know?”
“I didn’t.” You swallow. “But you promised me that the extra flower would make you smile.”
And smile, she does. “I guess I don’t owe you pasta then.”
“I’d still like to try one day.”
She takes the bouquet, then looks at Jisoo, who’s standing there like she’s just seen a ghost.
“I think that you should probably go,” Wrong Number says, clutching the flowers to her chest.
Jisoo looks at the carefully wrapped ranunculus, and then at you. “Right,” she says tightly. “I can see that I’m interrupting.”
She walks out without looking back. The bell jingles one last time, and then silence returns, but it’s not empty silence anymore.
Wrong Number looks at you. You look at her.
The air between you is filled with tension, embarrassment, and excitement—all built off of weeks of non-stop banter, shared secrets, and spilled confessions.
“Your hands look exactly like I imagined,” she says, her voice shaking a little.
You look down at your hands, then back up at her. “I still don’t know your name,” you say softy. “I wasn’t brave enough to ask last Tuesday. Or Thursday, before your date came and snatched you from me.”
She smiles, and it’s just dazzling.
“It’s Cho Miyeon,” she says, looking up at you with soft doe eyes. “And for the record, the guy on Thursday did not own a yacht.”
You tell her your name, and she repeats it to herself while smiling at the flowers, as if it sounds like poetry to her.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Cho Miyeon,” you say, as the butterflies begin multiplying in your stomach.
“Happy? I blew up my Valentine’s Day date for you,” she says, unbothered. “He’s definitely not calling me back.”
“Good. Because I was hoping you’d be free.”
“Oh really? And what did you have in mind?”
“Well,” you say, glancing down at your apron covered in green slime and sap. “I need to go home and change first. I’ve been wrestling roses for twelve hours.”
“I’m okay with that,” she says, giggling. “I like your apartment. Or, I like the pictures I’ve seen of it.”
“You’ve seen like two at most.”
“That’s enough for me. I have a good imagination.” She raises a finger. “You know, since we don’t have any reservations, let’s just go to the grocery store and get pasta ingredients so I can rock your world.”
“You left an expensive dinner with a guy who owns three apartment buildings so you could stay in and make shrimp scampi for some guy you just met?”
She nods, as if it’s the easiest question to answer. “Yeah. And it’s the second best decision I’ve made all year.”
“What’s the first?”
“Texting the right wrong number,” she says, lightly scrunching her nose.
You smile and reach out to flip the sign on the door to Closed.
“By the way, how are the other flowers doing?” you ask.
“Still thriving and ready to meet their four new friends,” she says, hugging the bouquet. “The apples are rotting in jail.”
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
“Welcome to the fortress of solitude,” you say, flipping on the lights and setting the grocery bags on the counter.
The trip to the store down the street from your apartment felt more like a vivid dream than reality—Miyeon in a long coat and a fancy date-night dress, pushing a shopping cart while debating the differences between butter brands while you tried not to look like a guy who had just been rescued from a rom-com climax—although you pretty much were. She’d insisted on the expensive parmesan (“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right”) and you’d insisted on the garlic bread (“It’s non-negotiable”), and somewhere in the frozen aisle, you’d realized you were having more fun buying pasta ingredients than anything you did all year.
Miyeon steps in and looks around slowly, taking in the overflowing bookshelf, the gray sofa, the framed photos, and the jungle of potted plants in every corner.
“It’s nice,” she says, turning to you with a grin. “Not a single beige wall in sight and lots of green. I approve.”
“I told you,” you say, locking the door behind you. “Sadness is banned in this household—well, except for the guy living in it.”
She laughs, but you’re suddenly really aware of your own appearance. You’re still wearing your work apron, there’s a streak of green floral foam dried on your forearm, and you definitely smell like twelve hours of plant fertilizer and stress. You feel gross, and for the first time in a long time, you desperately want to be something better than gross for someone.
“Okay,” you say, untying the apron. “I need twenty minutes to scrub the Valentine’s Day off my skin. Do you need help with prep?”
Miyeon drops her purse on the counter and takes off her coat, revealing the entirety of her black dress. It’s sleek and tighter than you thought, hugging every curve she has like it was proud to be on her body. Your jaw wants nothing more than to drop to the floor, but you clench onto all the muscles in your face like your life depends on it.
She catches you staring anyway. A small, knowing smirk plays on her lips.
“Go shower,” she says, walking to the kitchen like you’re the guest. “You look like you’re about to collapse. I got this.”
“Are you sure? I can chop—”
“Just go,” she commands, pointing down the hall with a head of garlic in her hand. “I’m going to rock your world tonight.”
Heat rushes to your face. “U-um—”
“With the best shrimp scampi you’ve ever had,” she quickly adds. “Now, go!”
You make it to the bathroom and strip off the apron in record time, taking possibly the fastest shower of your life—less of a relaxing wash and more of a frantic scrub—partly because you smell like a greenhouse, but mostly because leaving her alone in your kitchen feels like waking up from a dream, and you’re terrified that if you take too long, she might disappear before you get back.
You step out of the shower and immediately go into panic mode. You dry your hair aggressively, trying to style it into something intentional without looking like you tried too hard. Then, you pull open your closet and stare at your clothes like you’ve never seen a shirt before.
Too casual. Too fancy. Too… florist.
You finally grab the “nice” button-down you usually save for weddings to match her dress, fumbling with the buttons because your hands are shaking—just a little. It feels ridiculous to be this nervous in your own home, but it feels important. It’s your first date. You want to look like the guy she deserves, not just the guy she settled for because he’s good at making jokes over text messages.
The smell hits you the moment you step out: garlic, butter, and lemon. It’s rich and intoxicating, and somehow exactly like how you expected your first dinner to be.
You walk into the living room and freeze.
Miyeon is standing at your stove, tossing pasta in a pan. She’s kicked off her heels, and she’s humming along to the J-Rock song you mentioned to her a few days ago.
It hits you like a wave of déjà vu—again, somehow. You’ve never seen this before—Miyeon in your kitchen, cooking dinner—but it feels nostalgic. Like a dream from a future you’ve been waiting to live or maybe a memory from a previous life.
She turns around, holding up a wooden spoon, and pauses when she sees you. Her eyes sweep over the crisp shirt, the styled hair, the effort—if it could be called that. A slow, shy smile spreads across her face.
“Wow,” she says softly. “You look… good.”
You adjust your cuffs, suddenly shy. “Well, it is a first date. I didn’t want to be underdressed next to… that.” You gesture to her dress.
“I’m wearing this because I didn’t have time to go home,” she teases, her eyes dancing. “You’re wearing that because you’re trying to impress me in your own living room.”
“Is it working?”
She leans back against the counter, biting her lip to hide a grin. “It’s a little formal for last minute pasta on the couch… but yeah, it’s working.”
“Good,” you say, walking over to stand beside her. You lean in to smell the pan, your arm brushing against hers. “Wow, it looks and smells incredible. You weren’t joking.”
“It’s my one life skill besides predicting which marriages won’t last.” She turns back to the stove, satisfied. “Now grab the plates. I’m starving, I left the dinner before the appetizers even came out.”
You eat at the coffee table, sitting on the floor with your knees bumping together. The pasta is perfect—garlicky, buttery, and exactly what you needed after a twelve-hour shift of wrestling roses. A bottle of white wine sits between you—cheap stuff you two bought for cooking but decided to also drink instead, and somehow, it tastes better than anything you’ve had in years.
For a few minutes, you just eat in comfortable silence, passing the wine bottle back and forth. It’s surreal. For weeks, you’ve eaten dinner with your phone propped up against a water glass, texting her. Now, she’s right next to you. You can see the way she pushes the shrimp around her plate to save it for last, and the way she scrunches her nose when she laughs.
“You know,” she says suddenly, breaking the silence. “This feels kind of weird.”
“What does?”
“Just us. Being here. I feel like I’ve been sitting on this floor with you for weeks.”
You nod, leaning back against the couch, twirling the stem of your wine glass. “It feels like we skipped the first ten dates.”
“We did,” she laughs softly, her cheeks flushed slightly from the wine. “It’s like we already know everything about each other so there’s nothing left to talk about.”
“And yet I didn’t know your name until an hour ago,” you say.
She smiles, shaking her head. “It’s backward. Everything about us is backward.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No.” She looks at you, her eyes soft in the dim light. “I think it’s the best thing that’s happened to me.”
She takes a sip of wine, then clears her throat as if the moment got a little too soft, too fast.
“Okay,” she says, putting her glass down. “So I’ve been meaning to ask—do you have a TV or do you just stare at your plants for fun?”
“Oh, I have a projector,” you say, pointing to the ceiling. “And Netflix, Disney, Coupang Play… pick your poison.”
She hums, looking at the blank wall. “What’s your favorite movie? The one you can watch a hundred times and never get sick of.”
You hesitate. You think about saying something cool, like The Godfather or some obscure indie film to impress her, but you promised her honesty a while ago.
“You’re going to judge me,” you warn.
“Try me. I unironically love Twilight, I have no room to judge.”
“Okay.” You take a breath. “Your Name.”
She freezes; her fork stops halfway to her mouth.
“The anime?” she asks, eyes widening. “Kimi no Na wa?”
“Y-yes,” you say defensively. “The animation is incredible, and the soundtrack—”
“No way,” she interrupts, putting her plate down. “That’s my favorite movie.”
You blink. You think about Minho’s rant from months ago—‘Jisoo didn’t cry at the twilight scene! That’s a red flag!’
“Are you serious?”
“I’m serious,” she says, her face lighting up. “Two people connected across time and space who don’t know each other’s names, searching for each other? It gets me every time.”
“Y-yeah,” you murmur, thoroughly shocked at how much more perfect she could get.
She looks at you for a second. “It kinda reminds me of us in a way,” she admits, and then laughs. It sounds really nice. “We’re watching it together. Immediately.”
You smile. It’s the final piece of the puzzle falling into place.
“Your Name it is,” you say, dimming the lights.
You pour the last of the wine into each of your glass, and start the movie.
For the next two hours, you sit side by side in the dark. At first, there’s a respectful distance between you. But somewhere around the body-switching montage, you feel her shoulder press against yours, and by the time the comet appears in the sky, her head is resting on your shoulder.
At the twilight scene—the moment when Taki and Mitsuha finally see each other on the mountain—you feel Miyeon shift. You look over. She is literally weeping; silent, genuine tears streaming down her face.
You don’t laugh, you just reach out and take her hand, and she squeezes it back without saying a word or even looking away from the screen.
When the credits roll, she sniffs, wiping her eyes carefully with her finger.
“Don’t judge me,” she says, laughing to herself. “I told you. Every time.”
“I’m not judging.”
She turns to look at you, her eyes reddened yet still beautiful. She smiles, then catches her reflection in the dark window.
“Oh god,” she winces, touching her cheek. “I look like a raccoon. I need to go fix my makeup.”
“You don’t have to. I think you look bea—um—fine. You look fine.”
She stands up. “No, I’m not letting you see me like this.”
“Alright, well—bathroom is down the hall, first door on the left,” you say, pointing. “But you already knew that when you demanded I go shower earlier.”
“Well, there’s only so many places it can be.”
You listen to her footsteps retreat as you look at the empty plates and the projected image of the comet fading on the wall, suddenly realizing that you’re smiling so hard your face hurts.
“Hey!” she calls out a moment later, breaking your little daze. “I found them!”
You pause. That wasn’t the bathroom door; it was the bedroom.
“Huh?” You dry your hands and walk down the hall.
The bedroom door is open, and the bedside lamp is on, casting a warm, amber glow over the unmade bed and the wooden nightstand. Miyeon is standing by your bed, looking at you with a mischievous grin.
“You found what?” you ask from the door.
“My earrings,” she says simply. “The ones I left on your nightstand.”
You squint at the empty nightstand, then back at her. “What earrings?”
“Scroll back to the beginning of our texts,” she says, her voice dropping to a playful purr. “I left my earrings on your nightstand, remember?”
She looks up at you; the laughter fades from her eyes, replaced by something a little softer, a little heavier.
Then, slowly, she reaches up to her ear, undoing the clasp of her actual earring—a long, elegant gold hoop with a diamond drop—placing it gently on the nightstand. It makes a soft clink against the wood. Then, she takes off the other one, placing it beside the first.
“There,” she whispers, biting her lower lip.
You look at the earrings gleaming under the lamp light, then back at her.
“I guess I can’t be No Earrings Guy anymore.”
“I guess not,” she says, a small, teasing smile playing on her lips. “If I text you tomorrow, you’ll reply, right?”
“Yes,” you say, walking closer to her—so close that you can smell her perfume as clear as day. “I’ll say, ‘You have the wrong number.’”
She laughs, but the sound is cut short as you lean down. “Don’t you dare,” she breathes. “Are you trying to cosplay as my one-night-stands?”
“As you can see, I have one nightstand, but I’m not gonna be your one-night-stand.” You wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “I’d like to see you again and again, if that’s okay with you.”
Her shoulders relax in your embrace. “Every Tuesday?”
“Maybe a little more often than that, but we can start there.”
“Mm… I’d like that,” she says, brushing her nose against yours. “I have a request though.”
“What is it?”
She smiles and leans into your ear. “Will you… make my legs shake, though?”
You can feel her breaths brushing against your face at this point. “Is that what you’re thinking about? After all we just went through tonight?”
“Been thinking about it every Tuesday,” she says, teeth tugging at her upper lip.
A gust of courage pushes you forward as you lean in to kiss her. She tastes and feels exactly the way you imagined she would during all those late nights staring at your phone. It feels like the universe is finally clicking into place, like this is the final piece needed for a completed puzzle. Like closing a loop, the way your lips press against hers with a hunger that’s been building all evening—all your life, even. It’s a yearning that’s tested distance and time, like your tongue’s been searching for hers across timelines and phone screens, through flower shops and lonely apartments.
She sighs into your mouth—a soft, surrendering sound—tangling her fingers in your hair as if to anchor you here, in this universe, with her. It’s the kind of kiss that rewrites history. It erases every wrong number, every missed connection, every failed relationship, every awful date, every lonely Tuesday that came before it.
And when she pulls you towards the bed, you know one thing for sure: neither of you is ever going to be lonely again.
Your lips stay locked together from the moment they meet, tongues dancing in a desperate rhythm as both of your hands roam freely—down the sides of her body, snug around her waist, and eventually reaching the skin of her thighs hidden beneath the hem of her dress. Her arms loop around the back of your neck as she angles her head to deepen the kiss, refusing to let you pull away for even a second.
“You’re a pretty good kisser,” she says, running her fingers through your hair. “I didn’t expect this.”
“So are you,” you say, pressing your forehead against hers. “But I expected you to be good.”
Her lips curl into a naughty smirk. “Oh, you have no idea what else I’m good at.”
You slide your hand between her legs, feeling the warmth radiating through her panties. “When will I find out?”
Miyeon doesn’t answer, her eyes just flutter as you gently brush her folds through the fabric; a soft moan escapes her mouth as her lips part to your touch.
“Soon—”
But you don’t let her finish. You kiss her again, stealing the air from her breath, as you sneak a finger inside her, curling it gently while she moans into your mouth.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispers breathlessly, her hips rocking against your touch.
“You kept secrets from me?” you ask, slowly pushing deeper into her warmth. “I thought we were each other’s safe space.”
“S-sorry,” she cries, neck dipping slightly. “It was embarrassing.”
“What is it?” You go for her neck now, kissing downwards towards her collarbone, while your fingers push and pull out of her heat.
“I’ve been fantasizing about your hands… a-ah… and your fingers…” Her breaths get heavier with every soft thrust. “And… they feel better than I imagined.”
“Can I tell you a secret too, then?” you ask, feeling the cool air rush to your fingers as you withdraw your hand.
“Y-yeah?”
“I’ve been fantasizing about how you taste,” you say, lifting your hand to your mouth.
The taste is so satisfying that you let it linger on your tongue, savoring every drop.
“Who?” she asks, slipping her panties off completely. “Wrong Number or Tuesday Girl?”
You gently press your fingers on her lips, sliding them into her mouth. “Both,” you say.
“And the verdict?” she says, twirling her tongue around them, as if showing off her skills.
The sensation makes you gasp, almost. “Delicious. As expected.”
“Let’s see what else you expected,” she says with a playful grin.
She pushes you onto the bed—not aggressively, just hard enough to make you gasp, and immediately straddles your waist. She peels off her dress in one fluid motion over her shoulders, tossing it onto the floor.
“Jesus,” you accidentally say. You can actually feel your mouth watering.
She smirks and reaches behind her back, unhooking her bra, purposely letting it slide off her small shoulders to reveal her bare skin in the soft bedroom light. Your eyes trace every wondrous curve, from the swell of her breasts to the dip of her slender waist.
You run your fingers up her ribs, savoring the dangerous smoothness of her skin. “You’re gorgeous,” you say, watching her face light up to your words.
“How did you picture me?” she asks, gathering her hair up like she means to tie it—only to let it fall right back down slowly, like she was putting on a show.
You swallow. “Honestly—as Tuesday Girl—because…” you pause.
“Because what?” she asks, tilting her head.
“It’s embarrassing.”
Her smile deepens. “Now you really have to say it.”
You exhale, then let it out in one honest rush of words. “Because I had such a huge crush on you that I think I… I kind of blurred you two together in my head. Just as—” you give a helpless little laugh, “—the girl I like.”
“Aw.” The teasing in her face softens. “Honestly… I think I did the same,” she admits quietly, like a secret she’s placing in your hands as she runs her warm fingers across your cheek.
And maybe that’s why you notice the softness of her skin on your fingertips a little more now, as well as her steady weight over your body as she looks down at you, unable to wipe that smile off her gorgeous face.
“You’re so pretty,” you say, still completely in awe. “I didn’t imagine either of you to look like this.”
She grabs your hands, guiding them to her breasts. “Touch me,” she demands softly, her voice laced with a growing desire. “Like this…”
She grinds down on you, rubbing herself against the bulge in your pants through the fabric. The friction sends tingles through your length, making it throb with need as you knead her tits, thumbs circling her nipples until they harden against your skin.
“You’re driving me crazy,” you murmur, your voice rough.
“No, I’m not,” she teases. “Not yet.”
She lowers herself, reaching for your pants and tugging them down along with your underwear in a single pull. Your cock springs free, completely hard and aching for her.
“Okay,” she says, eyes widening. “Um. Wow?”
“W-what?” you say, breath hitching.
She wraps her hand around it, stroking slowly before leaning down to plant a single kiss on the tip; a drop of pre-cum immediately leaks out. “It’s… perfect. Just like I imagined.”
“You imagined this far?” you say, clenching your teeth. “While going on all those dates?”
“I have a great imagination.” She leans in, breath hot as she finally takes you into her mouth, sucking gently at first, tongue swirling around the head. “And you know better than anyone that I didn’t care for any of those dates.”
Your heart actually skips a beat. “Oh—wow.”
She smirks, as if the reaction was expected. “Just wait.”
“I’m patient,” you manage to choke out, watching as her tongue trails down the length of your shaft, mapping a wet line all the way to the base.
“How patient?” she murmurs against your skin.
“I waited all this time to try your pasta, didn’t I?”
She slurps on your length, planting small, teasing kisses against your flesh like she was savoring it on her way back up. “That’s true. Was it worth it?”
“So worth it—aah—”
“You taste good,” she says, pulling back just enough to speak, her breath hot against your flesh. “I’ve wanted this in my mouth for so long.”
“You just met me three hours ago.”
“So? I’ve wanted it in my mouth three weeks before that.”
She stops talking and takes you deeper, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm while her hand pumps the base, tongue gliding down the side of your cock with just enough pressure to complement the wet suction happening above.
“Miyeon—w-wow—” you groan, threading your fingers through her hair. “You’re really good at this.”
Saliva drips down your shaft as she works you sensually, her eyes locked on yours, full of affection and a starving lust. “I love how you twitch for me,” she murmurs between sucks. “And how you fill my mouth perfectly.”
You lift your hips instinctively, and she responds by catching your thighs, pushing them wider apart.
“What are you—”
“Shh…” she soothes, looking right at you as if begging you to trust her. “Don’t be shy. We know everything about each other, don’t we?”
Her tongue trails lower, past the base of your cock, licking your balls with slow, careful strokes now that they’re completely exposed to her. The sensation melts you completely, sending you further into the mattress. She pushes your knees up, brushing her soft, wet lips all over every inch of sensitive skin she uncovers.
“Can I?” she whispers as her tongue creeps down even further.
“Y-yes,” you reply nervously, your body arching toward her on its own.
She licks you everywhere, letting her saliva cover your skin, dripping onto the mattress as her tongue gently flicks around your rim—not enough to feel invasive, but almost lovingly, as if she was worshipping you with her need.
The sensation literally makes you whimper. “Oh my god… it feels so good…”
She hums in satisfaction as her hands continue to stroke you while she slurps you louder, recycling her saliva as she works her tongue across the crease of your cheeks, up the surface of your balls, and all the way up the underside of your cock—just to go right back down again.
“Does it feel good?” She takes all of your balls into her mouth, swirling them with her tongue while her fingers spread her saliva mixed with your pre-cum all over your cock.
“You’re crazy good…” you moan, dropping your head against the pillow.
She presses one last, lingering kiss between your legs before letting your thighs drop, then brushes her lips all the way up your length as she continues jerking you sensually, every inch of your cock now covered with her love.
“I love it,” she moans against your shaft. “I really, really like sucking your dick.”
She bobs her head up and down, slurping and sucking loudly and messily, hands circling your base while her tongue swirls around you inside her mouth. The rhythm isn’t erratic—it’s careful yet enthusiastic, as if she was savoring every bit of you.
“God, I really can’t stop,” she murmurs, stroking you as she catches her breath, tongue still flicking against your flesh as if she can’t get enough. “I’ve never felt like this before. I guess I really didn’t know everything about you.”
“That’s not fair,” you say, breathing heavily.
“What’s not fair?” Her free hand slides between her own legs, fingers dipping into her wetness, while her other hand continues to stroke you.
“I want to taste you too—aah—”
You cut off with a loud moan as she swallows you whole, taking you deeper than before, the back of her throat hugging the head of your cock. She holds you there, letting her throat milk you in tight, rhythmic pulses while her fingers work furiously between her thighs.
You can hear her moans vibrate against you as her tongue circles the underside of your balls with the entirety of your length buried so deep in her throat that it disappears.
“F-fuck…” you whimper, the pleasure ripping through your body as finally pulls out, slowly.
She gasps, heaving for air as strands of spit drip from her mouth, directly back down to your cock, but quickly disappears as her hand pumps it down into your flesh, fusing it with the rest of the hot mess.
“Miyeon,” you plead, voice shaking now. “Please. Me too.”
“Beg,” she teases, exhaling heavily, something lighting up in her eyes.
“I want to taste you. Please.”
She crawls up your body, her hand still pumping you below, and kisses you deeply. Her tongue wrestles aggressively with yours, sharing the taste of your own desire as she grinds her hips against your chest.
“You’re tasting me,” she says, sucking on your lips.
“No,” you protest, fingers digging into the skin on her hips. “Not like this.”
You guide her small frame upwards, lifting her above you to position herself right over your face. Her pussy hovers just above your mouth, glistening with an arousal built up all night.
“Like this.” You grab her waist and pull her down, your tongue plunging right between her folds as you enter her, savoring all her sweetness as you lick and suck her like you’re starved—because you are.
“Oh my god,” she moans quietly, grinding against your face. “This is what you meant.”
You pull back just enough to speak, your lips wet with her love. “Don’t play innocent. You knew exactly what I meant.”
“You weren’t being specific,” she breathes, fingers tangling in your hair. “I didn’t know you meant you wanted to taste my pussy.”
“Yes, you did,” you growl, slapping her ass. “You’re a liar now.”
She lets out a soft yelp of both shock and delight, and you grab a handful of her cheeks to pull her down, burying your tongue deeper into her hole while she drips into your mouth. Her hands brace on the headboard as she rides your face, her breaths coming in short pants and melodic gasps.
You hold her steady, flicking and circling until she’s trembling.
“You’re really good at this, what the hell—aah!” she cries, grinding against your mouth, increasing and decreasing the pressure with every movement. “W-wait—I think I’m gonna come—you’re actually gonna make me come like this—oh wow—wait—wait—”
Her movement stops abruptly, and she pushes hard against you, trapping your tongue against her clit right before her legs start shaking in small, short tremors. Then, a few seconds later, she shatters, moaning loudly, voice cracking along with the erratic jerks of her spine while she anchors herself, using your hair for balance.
She collapses sideways onto the mattress, and you climb on top of her, holding her trembling body in your arms, kissing her softly down the side of her warm neck as she hugs you tightly, chest heaving against yours.
“Wow,” she gasps, voice cracking. “I need a second—that was—wow—”
You keep kissing her soothingly, fingers slowly finding their way back to her heat as you chase the dripping juices leaving her folds.
“You’re a dream come true,” you murmur against her lips, rubbing her sensually, watching her back arch again as her lips part and eyes widen.
“Oh god—” she moans as your fingers sneak their way back in, feeling her walls clench against your skin. “Okay—I don’t need a second anymore—just do it—aah—”
“Do what?” you ask, dipping your head to suck her nipple. Down below, you curl your fingers upward toward her spot, increasing the pressure with every motion.
She twitches beneath you, hips bucking upward to chase your rhythm. “I knew you’d say that—fu—oh my god—”
“Say it properly,” you tease, swirling and flicking against her flesh.
“Fuck me,” she exhales loudly, desperately. “Fuck me, please.”
You wish you had the resilience to continue playing with her, but you actually can’t wait any longer either.
You spread her legs far apart, settling between her slender thighs as your cock nudges at her entrance like it’s drawn by a magnet, and you push in—slowly, inch by inch, watching her eyes flutter shut in bliss as you fill her completely.
“Look at me,” you command.
She opens her eyes, meeting your gaze as your bodies move together, skin slapping softly to every thrust.
“You feel so good inside me,” she whispers, her trembling hands cupping your face. “I think I’m gonna lose it.”
“You’re actually so perfect,” you moan, picking up the speed as her wetness engulfs every inch of your flesh like a warm blanket.
You lean down and kiss her—a deep, passionate collision of lips and tongues, pouring every unspoken emotion between the two of you into the moment as your hips roll steadily against hers, binding your bodies and souls together.
She quickly unbuttons your shirt, flinging it off impatiently. Her hands wander over your chest, nails digging lightly into your shoulders as she matches your pace, wrapping her legs tighter around your waist to pull you deeper. You groan into her mouth, the friction and the heat and the sight of her flushed face beneath you threatening to unravel you completely.
“How did you get more perfect than you already were the past three weeks?” you murmur against her lips, slowing the pace just to torture yourself, just to feel the drag of her walls clutching you. “I never knew I could want someone this much. I need you.”
“I need you too,” she breathes, arching her back into your body. “Don’t stop… please, don’t stop.”
You thrust harder, losing the battle for control, needing to be closer than skin and flesh allows. The slapping sound of your bodies meeting fills the quiet room, a steady, wet rhythm that drowns out the city outside. You are lost in her—in the scent of her hair, the taste of her tongue, the way she says your name like you’ve been lovers for multiple lives.
But you want to see her—all of her. Because you’re sure there isn’t a sight in the world more beautiful than Cho Miyeon.
“Come up,” you command softly, withdrawing slowly until you almost slip out, leaving her gasping at the loss.
She whimpers, reaching for you, her eyes desperate and pleading. “No… stay inside me… don’t go…”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, guiding her hands to your chest. “I just want to see you.”
She hesitates for only a second before a wicked glint returns to her eyes. “You like looking at me that much?”
“I’m addicted,” you confess, as she climbs over you, dragging her wet folds across your skin. “I want to see every side and angle of you.”
She looks down at you and smiles devilishly—hair messy, lips parting, skin damp enough to shimmer in the dimly lit room.
“Careful what you wish for,” she teases breathlessly. “There might be a side of me you haven’t seen yet that might scare you.”
Then she sinks down, taking all of you in one slow, agonizing slide. Her head falls back, a long, broken moan tearing from her throat as she fills herself completely. The sight of her—impaled on you, throat bared, riding you with a look of pure bliss—is enough to make you see stars.
She sets a slow, torturous pace, grinding her hips in circles before lifting and slamming back down, milking every inch of you. Her hands rest on your chest, feeling your heart hammer against her palms, her gaze locked on yours as she rides you so skillfully you question how she’s even real.
“Does it feel good?” she asks, leaning forward, letting her hair fall over your faces. “Tell me how good my pussy feels.”
“It feels incredible…” You reach up to cup her breasts, your thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. “You’re so tight… and warm… and wet… I can’t believe this is what I’ve been missing out on.”
“Should’ve met me sooner,” she murmurs, a sinful smirk curling her lips.
“I’m jealous that you were doing this with people who don’t deserve you while I was imagining everything in my head.”
“Aw, don’t be jealous...” She picks up the speed, snapping her hips with a wet, rhythmic smack that echoes in the quiet room. “If it makes you feel better, they don’t feel anywhere as good as you. Your dick is so perfect… it’s like it was made to fill me… just like this…”
“Your pussy was made for me,” you groan, your hips bucking up to meet her, driving deeper. “It’s mine now.”
She gasps. “Yes. I was born to ride you, just like this.”
She leans back, bracing her hands on your knees, giving you a perfect view of where you’re joined, and grinds down hard; her pussy clenching around you in rhythmic spasms that nearly send you over the edge right then and there.
“Look,” she commands, breathless. “Look at how deep you are inside me... look at how my pussy looks wrapped around your dick… you’re all mine now…”
“I’m yours, all yours,” you moan, gripping her hips to help her drive down harder.
“God, it feels so good,” she moans, her head falling back, exposing the long, elegant line of her throat. “You’re so deep inside me.”
She rides you harder, faster, abandoning the slow tease for pure, frantic need.
“Fuck me as hard as you can,” she begs, her voice cracking. “Don’t hold back. Break me if you have to, just don’t stop, okay?”
You sit up, meeting her halfway, wrapping your arms around her trembling frame. You capture her lips in a deep, wet kiss, swallowing her moans as your chests slide against each other. The angle changes everything—you’re buried all the way now, grinding against her clit with every upward thrust of your hips, helping her find the rhythm as her legs start to quiver with exhaustion.
“Tell me how you want it,” you murmur against her mouth, your hands gripping her waist to take the weight off her thighs.
“I want you to ruin my little pussy with your cock,” she cries. “Make my legs shake. Make it so I actually can’t walk tomorrow.”
You snap your hips upward, driving into her harder, faster, setting a brutal pace that has her gasping for air. “Is this the side you were scared to show me?”
“No, you wouldn’t be able to handle that side,” she taunts breathlessly, biting her swollen lip.
“So you’re gonna hide things from me now?”
You stop moving abruptly, leaving her hovering on the edge, desperate and whining at the sudden stillness.
“Show me,” you growl.
“Make me,” she challenges, grinding down on you desperately, trying to chase the friction. “Fuck me harder and you’ll see—”
“Fine.”
In one fluid motion, you grip her hips and flip her over. She squeals—a mix of surprise and delight—as you drag her across the mattress. You push her onto her hands and knees, shoving her face into the pillows before grabbing her waist and pulling her back until she’s arched perfectly for you.
You position her directly in front of the full-length mirror on the closet door.
“Look,” you command, your voice dropping as you enter her from behind in one long, smooth thrust that makes her back bow. “Look at yourself, Miyeon.”
She lifts her head, her eyes finding yours in the reflection. She looks so incredibly sexy—hair wild, cheeks flushed, lips wet. “Oh god… what’s happening…”
“You said to fuck you harder, didn’t you?” you whisper, wrapping a hand around her throat lightly, just enough to claim her.”
“Oh fuck…” she moans loudly, her eyelids fluttering as she leans back into your touch.
You start to thrust, snapping your hips against her ass with a punishing rhythm. “Show me.”
“I said you’ll have to fuck me harder if you want—aah!”
You lean in close, your voice dropping to a rough growl as you watch her face twist in pleasure in the glass. “Is it because you don’t want me to know you’re a little whore?”
“No, that’s not it—fuck…”
“What is it, then?” you say, the sight of you disappearing inside her reflection drives you dangerously close to the edge.
“I changed my mind,” she gasps, tightly gripping the sheets. “I don’t have any other sides… just fuck me however you want. Please.”
“That’s unfortunate. I really wanted to see the real you.” You lean down, your chest pressing against her back, lightly sucking her neck. “Every part of you.”
“I am a whore—I’m your little whore…” she whimpers, her eyes rolling back as she watches her own body shaking with the force of your thrusts. “Fuck… it feels so good... god, I’m melting…”
You reach around, your hand splaying over her flat stomach, pinning her in place as you pick up the pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes loudly in the room.
“Who does this belong to?” you growl into her ear, punctuating the question with a particularly deep thrust that makes her gasp. “Tell me.”
“Yours,” she cries out, staring at herself in the mirror, watching her own breasts sway with the impact. “It’s yours. My pussy is yours from now on.”
“Look at yourself.” You release her stomach to grab her hair, gently pulling her head back so she has no choice but to watch. “Look how pretty you look like this. So sexy and slutty.”
“I love it,” she moans, her hips pushing back to meet you, desperate for more. “Use me. Use my pussy however you want.”
“I’m going to make sure your legs never forget,” you promise, gripping her hips to pull her back onto you harder. “Remember my name, even if you disappear tomorrow.”
She sobs a messy, broken sound, her arms finally giving out. She collapses onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillows, but you don’t stop. You follow her down, hooking one of her legs over your arm to pull her open even wider.
“Oh my god!” she cries out, muffled by the linen. “Don’t stop—oh god, don’t stop!”
You reach around, your hand sliding between her legs to find her clit, rubbing it in time with your thrusts—hard, fast, merciless circles.
That breaks her completely.
“Oh—oh god—oh my god—I’m coming!” she screams, her body seizing up. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”
“Come for me,” you say, kissing her shoulder, her neck, anywhere you can reach.
Her legs start to shake—violent, uncontrollable tremors that rattle the entire bed. Her pussy clamps down on you, milking you with terrifying strength as she rides out the orgasm, sobbing your name.
You pull out, your breath coming in ragged gasps. “I’m—”
“No—wait!”
She scrambles onto her knees, taking you in her hand and immediately wraps her mouth around you, swallowing you deep. Her hand goes down to her still-throbbing clit, touching herself as she looks up at you with needy eyes.
The sight of it—her mouth on you, her fingers, the absolute carnal desire in her gaze—shatters your last bit of control.
“Miyeon—I’m—” you groan, your hips snapping forward instinctively. “I’m gonna—fuck—”
The world freezes as you erupt into her mouth, wave after wave of pleasure bursting through your veins as you pour yourself into her throat. She drains you completely while her fingers keep working, still chasing the aftershocks of her own climax. Your vision blurs slightly as she moans against you, but doesn't swallow immediately. Instead, she holds you there, swishing the warmth around her tongue, savoring the taste for a moment before finally gulping it down.
And when you finally fall back and collapse on the bed, a satisfied, sleepy smile curls the corners of her mouth.
“I told you I was going to rock your world,” she says, licking her lips.
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
~ six months later ~
The air in the hotel ballroom is thick with the scent of expensive candles, too much hairspray, and the distinct, high-pitched frequency of a bride on the verge of a breakdown—a sound you know so well.
“I said ivory!” a voice hisses from the head table, where the wedding party is trying to take photos. “This is clearly cream! Does nobody listen to me?”
You shift the last box of centerpieces onto the back room, wiping your hands on your apron. The ceremony is over, cocktail hour is in full swing in the hallway, and you’ve been in the flower business long enough to know when to make yourself invisible.
You scan the chaos, looking for the one person actually holding this circus together.
You spot Miyeon standing in the shadows near the service entrance, leaning against the wall. She looks exhausted; her clipboard is dangling by her side, and she’s watching the scene unfold with the blank stare of a war general who has seen too much combat.
You walk over, sidestepping a server who is rushing to refill the buffet, and when you get close, you nudge her shoulder gently.
“You look like you’re contemplating murder,” you whisper.
Miyeon jumps slightly, then looks up. The professional mask melts away instantly, replaced by a genuine, tired smile that lights up her whole face.
“I’m contemplating arson,” she corrects, her voice hushed. “If I hear the word ‘napkin’ one more time, I’m lighting the tablecloths on fire.”
“Well, the hydrangeas are set,” you say, gesturing to the centerpieces. “And I even found those specific baby’s breath stems you texted me about at 2:00 AM.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” She leans her head on your shoulder for a fleeting second, stealing a moment of peace. “This wedding is a freaking disaster. The groom is already drunk out of his mind, the bride absolutely hates the lighting that she picked out herself, and I’m pretty sure the mother-in-law is currently crying in the bathroom because the seating chart ‘disrespects her ancestors.’”
You chuckle, looking out at the groom, who is looking a little too wobbly for 6:00 PM. “I give them six months.”
“Generous,” she murmurs. “I was thinking two.”
“So,” you say, checking your watch. “What’s the plan after this? Should we go try that new Italian restaurant that opened by our place? Or do you want to watch a movie? I’m sure you have lots to cry about after this.”
She laughs, the sound bright and clear over the DJ doing a mic check. She checks her own watch, then looks back at the bride, who is now aggressively directing the photographer.
“Technically, my job is done,” she says, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. “The reception is starting, so the coordinator takes over now, and we should go. But…” She bites her lip, looking toward the corner of the room.
“But what?”
“It’s an open bar,” she says, sliding her hand into yours, lacing your fingers together. “And I kind of want to stay and watch it all burn down. Don’t you?”
You look at her—messy hair, tired eyes, and that same spark of trouble that hooked you from the very first text—and you squeeze her hand.
“Alright,” you say, leaning back against the wall with her. “Front row seats to the disaster it is.”
She giggles. “You’re the best boyfriend in the world, did you know that?”
“Why?” you ask, watching the best man stumble over a microphone cord. “Because I also find entertainment in watching other people fall apart?”
“No. Because you’re just you.”
“And you’re just you.”
“I know,” she says, an adorable smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “And you love that.”
You wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against your side. “You’re right,” you murmur into her hair. “I do love you.”
She leans into you as the DJ announces the grand entrance, resting her head on your shoulder. “I love you more.”
“I thought you promised not to lie to me,” you say, kissing the top of her head.
“Never broke it.”
You watch the couple burst through the doors toward a future that’s probably doomed, surrounded by thousands of dollars of flowers and perfectly color-coordinated linens.
Most people spend their entire lives searching for The One. They go on bad dates, swipe through endless profiles, propose just for the sake of it, and plan perfect weddings, desperately trying to manufacture a happy ending.
But not you.
You didn’t have to search for anything. You just had to reply to a text sent to the wrong person.
There was a time when neither of you believed in love, that fairytales and romcoms were just a way to give people something to hope for. But you were both wrong.
You look down at Miyeon, who’s currently whispering a bet on how long until the best man trips, and realize true love does exist for those strong enough to let go of the wrong person.
Most love stories are complicated, messy, and full of wrong turns.
But not yours. Because sometimes, a wrong number leads you to the only right person.
The summer before high school, you planned out everything: how you’d come out of your shell, how you’d make a name for yourself, how you’d become popular and well-liked and join the soccer team and maybe try to make it to the varsity team. By the time you accepted your high school diploma, exactly none of those goals came to pass: you made a couple of friends, none of whom were going to the same college as you; you only joined one club for one year for all of high school, and that was the math club in your senior year; you didn’t even try to run for any student council positions, although you did know a friend of the student treasurer in your senior year; you ended up chickening out before the soccer tryouts even started and ended up doing cross-country, which, to be fair, you quite enjoyed.
In other words, you were pretty much a nobody. You left high school having demonstrated exactly zero exceptional qualities about you, memorable traits or defining moments, that would make someone in your graduating class remember you. But honestly, you don’t really care; not because you don’t like your graduating class, or because you didn’t like high school, but because, by senior year, you realized how shallow those goals were.
So, you enter college with no such goals. All that’s on your mind is to study well, find a few friends that you can relax and hang out with, that you would feel comfortable drinking for the first time on your 21st birthday with, and have a good time. Nothing grand, no lofty ambitions. Just, have fun, learn a thing or two, and graduate.
It’s funny how the universe seems to always work against you.
“Oh! You’re…”
You thought no one from your high school chose to go to your choice of college. Then again, you didn’t really ask around for such information.
“…Alien-guy. The one who said, that one time, that to believe that aliens don’t exist is preposterous!”
So, maybe, apparently, there was something memorable you did. And to be remembered by Kang Seulgi, the person who achieved every single one of your self-set goals in high school by her junior year, is perhaps its own achievement.
Then again, maybe not; Seulgi was known to be the nicest girl in school. Nominated for Prom Queen and almost winning despite doing zero work for it, so you heard; making it to the varsity team for volleyball by sophomore year; known by and friends with students from all years, she did it all. Even you had your own positive experiences with her, being grouped together with her for an AP European History project on Rousseau and his impact on the Age of Enlightenment, and being smiled to and waved at a few times in the hallways on occasion afterwards. But that was it. Kang Seulgi was … well, Kang Seulgi. And you knew it. You had no delusions of her friendliness, of why she smiled and waved at you so much, why she sat next to you for the first few days of the math class you both took as seniors. She’s just Kang Seulgi, the nicest girl at school. There’s nothing to read into.
“Huh. Is that my legacy from high school?”
Seulgi laughs. “I’m so sorry! I’m terrible with names. I’m Kang Seulgi, by the way!”
As if you could forget. But you don’t say that. Instead, you remind her your name, and Seulgi apologizes for forgetting it in the same way she might apologize for accidentally kicking your dog, so you shrug it off by saying, “I didn’t know you chose this college.”
“And I didn’t know you chose this one! Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Although the smile never leaves Seulgi’s eyes, the slight bit of disappointment in the shift of the smile on her lips and her cheeks makes you wonder if she actually thinks it was reasonable for you to just walk up to her back in high school and ask her what college she chose, and then promptly inform her that you chose the same one. “Never really had the chance to.”
“I’m so glad that I know someone here. It’s so exciting to be someplace new, but also sorta scary, isn’t it?”
That, you have to agree on. Ordinarily, talking to someone so insanely attractive like Kang Seulgi would’ve been intimidating, but her friendly demeanor disarms any apprehension that might’ve otherwise frozen your vocal cords. “None of your friends came with you?”
“I knoow right?” You withhold a chuckle at Seulgi’s whine. “They’re so mean! I begged them so much too, but the ones who also got accepted here all said that it was too far away.”
“Yeah, but it’s sorta nice being far from home.”
“Yeah, yeah!” The way Seulgi’s eyes light up as she agrees with you … for a second or five, you forget how to breathe. “I think so too! And the campus is soo pretty!”
Fortunately, Seulgi doesn’t seem to notice your pause. “Yeah, it really is.” These kinds of girls, with their otherworldly beauty, who act like they don’t know how much a simple smile, especially such a radiant one, affects others. Well, actually, Seulgi is the only one you know that you would classify as an ‘otherworldly beauty’. Maybe it’s just a Seulgi thing. Still, she ought to wield that weapon more responsibly and intent.
“What do—”
“Alright, everyone!” The booming voice of the professor entering the massive lecture hall silences Seulgi, who turns her attention to the front of the room. You do the same. “Welcome to college! Unless, do we have any poor souls who have an earlier class?” A few hands shoot up, and a collective, sympathetic laugh-groan fills the lecture hall. “I’m so sorry to you all.”
“It’s ok, I’m a morning person!” shouts one amongst the raised hands.
“Oh.” The clear disdain in the professor’s voice and face brings about more laughter in the class. “Well then. I’m … even more sorry to hear that.” The professor’s response is met with more laughter. “Anyway, welcome to Biology 101!”
It doesn’t change anything, though. So what, Kang Seulgi, the most popular girl in high school and generally likeable human being, sat next to you in one of your classes? It doesn’t mean anything. Just like in your math class last year, she’ll probably sit next to you for the first few days, and by the second week, will migrate to sitting next to the friends she’ll have made. And the world will return to normalcy.
Except, it doesn’t. Because, later that day, you see Seulgi again. In one of your classes, again. This time, it’s you who notices her first, entering the classroom from the back and seeing the unmistakable side profile of Kang Seulgi, shuffling around in her orange backpack in search of something. Should you greet her? It’s almost inevitable that she’ll realize you’re in this class with her, right? It’s a relatively small class too, very unlike the massive lecture hall your previous class together was located in. Would she find it off-putting? Well, even if she did find it that way, she wouldn’t let it show on her face. Is there really a reason to say ‘hi’? To be polite, you presume, but…
You feel your body stiffen up as you see her turn around.
Shit. Did she notice me staring? She’ll definitely think I’m a creep.
“Oh!” You can’t say you’re surprised, really, by her friendly reaction. What you are surprised about is just how incredibly jubilant she is to see you again. “You’re in my Calc 3 class too?!”
No known force in the universe can stop the smile that blossoms on your face. “Yeah, looks like it.”
“No waay! Oh my gosh, I heard horror stories of Calc 3 from my college friends, but now I get take it with one of the smartest guys in our math class last year, I feel so much better!”
As you make your way to Seulgi’s seat, the guy sitting in front of her turns around. “Oh, really? So, you’re sorta the shit, huh?”
Maybe it’s you that’s looking at the glass half-empty, but you swear you can hear a hint of snark in his voice. Like he’s puffing out his chest, trying to size you up. Not that you really care about meeting his challenge, of course. He’s free to have Seulgi all to himself. “I don’t think so…”
“Oh please, he’s being humble. He got a 5 on the AP Calc BC test.”
“…how do you know that?”
“One of my friends heard from our teacher.”
So maybe that’s another, albeit slightly niche, ‘legacy’ of yours from high school. Or, maybe this is just Seulgi being the social butterfly she is.
“No shit! So did I!”
“Oh, really?”
Seulgi doesn’t seem to detect the chest-puffing that the guy, who you learn is named Justin, is doing. As you plop down next to her, the two of them blast off in conversation about the AP test, studying for it, and what they’ve heard about Calc3 online, with Justin eventually coming around and sitting on the other side of Seulgi. She pulls you into the conversation here and there, but you try to, as subtly as you can, stay out of it. It’s as clear that Justin has an interest in Seulgi as it is that he views you as a threat, so you try to make yourself as small as possible. You’re no threat, you want to tell him, you’re just someone who happened to have gone to high school with her.
It’s no surprise that, by the second week of your Bio101 class, Kang Seulgi is sitting next to a girl who she’s happily chatting up. What is a surprise is that, just as you’re about to slot yourself into a few rows behind her, she turns around, and, upon meeting your eyes, lights up.
“Oh! Over here!” The girl that’s sitting next to Seulgi, you learn, is named Irene, and it’s when you’re able to see her face-to-face that you realize you may have to update your list of ‘otherworldly beauties’. Irene is considerably more reserved than Seulgi, but is by no means a slouch when it comes to beauty, herself.
“Did you do the reading?”
“Hm? There was reading?”
“Well, the professor said it was optional, but I get the idea that it’s like, ‘optional’. You know? Like, how the reading in AP Euro was always ‘optional’, but how you could never understand what was happening in class unless you followed along?”
You laugh at that. “Right. Well, I hope the professor doesn’t expect us to be that studious, being only the first week and all.”
With Seulgi, you find it easy to speak freely. With Irene, it feels nearly impossible, not because she feels impossible to approach, with how soft-spoken and gentle she seems to be, but because she feels intimidating in another way. Like, it’s forbidden for you to speak to her, like she’s a high priestess or maybe even divinity itself, and you are not worthy to be in her presence. Maybe this would be how Seulgi would feel to talk to if that friendliness she positively exudes vanishes.
It also doesn’t take more than a week to confirm Justin’s intentions with Seulgi, and you can’t help but feel that Seulgi’s friendliness is feeding into it, too. Is it intentional? The way she speaks to Justin isn’t dissimilar at all to how she speaks with you. Or at least, from what you can tell. And upon the most barebones investigation, the possibility that Seulgi is intentionally leading Justin on is tossed out the window; she’s definitely too nice for that. At the tail end of the second week, when Justin recommends studying together for the upcoming exam in a month, Seulgi is the one who tells you that you’re coming along. Justin doesn’t let his dissatisfaction show on his face, but he doesn’t have to; you know he would rather you not be there.
To you, it’s crystal clear what Justin is trying to do. Seulgi, be it blissful or willing ignorance, doesn’t address it even slightly.
You consider calling in sick that day to give Justin some alone time with Seulgi. It’s more annoying than anything, how Justin seems so guarded around you. But, at the same time, you can’t really just tell him, especially since you two never talk just amongst yourselves. Also, who studies for an exam an entire month in advance?
But when you text Seulgi that you aren’t coming, she insists on coming over to help take care of you, so you have to awkwardly brush it off and tell her that, you know what, it’s not that bad, and in fact, you’ll come anyway, it’s no big deal. When you arrive, you see Seulgi happily waving over at you, and next to her at the table, sure enough, is an expression on Justin’s face that betrays his intentions. Seulgi briefly inquires about how you feel, and you play it off as no big deal. The hostility from Justin seems to dissipate slightly at that, but only slightly.
Two hours later, the three of you call it quits, and Justin invites Seulgi to eat at the nearby Mexican place with him. When Seulgi insists that you come along, Justin chimes in, saying that, since you’re sick, you ought to go home and get some rest, adding in that he’ll bring you dinner after they’re done. What he’s actually saying to you is clear as day: fuck off, and I’ll buy you dinner.
You have your concerns: you caught Justin unabashedly looking at Seulgi’s thighs, which are especially on display due to how obscenely short her shorts are, and how, despite Justin’s brazenness, Seulgi doesn’t even seem to notice. Is she just extremely studious, or is she oblivious? It’s not your place to know what’s best for Kang Seulgi, nor do you have any obligation to act as her ‘white knight’ … and, it’s not like Justin really seems like a rapist, either. Do you need to be worried about them? Plus, it is a free meal. Who are you, a broke college student, to deny a free meal?
So, you ultimately end up excusing yourself, deciding you don’t want to endure another hour or so of Justin trying to pretend like you don’t exist as politely as possible. It ends up being Irene that you end up hearing about it, of all sources. You’re a bit taken aback when she immediately starts talking as you take your seat, but as she continues, you can tell why.
“I saw Seulgi walking with a boy, so I went to greet her, and it turned out, they were going back to his apartment.” Oh. What the— “I was a little suspicious, so I asked him about his roommate, and he said something about asking him to be somewhere else for the next few hours.” Oh. Oh no. Did you misjudge Justin? “I was able to stop it, but … was Seulgi always so … oblivious?”
So, it’s not only you. On one hand, you feel vindicated for being right, at least somewhat, about Justin, but on the other hand, you’re kicking yourself. If you were suspicious of him, then you should obviously wedge yourself between them at any chance you get, especially since Seulgi doesn’t seem to mind. You even had another chance to do so, when Justin dropped the food off at your door, whispering a quick, “thanks, man,” before handing you the food and whisking off. And the result of that? If Irene hadn’t been there to interpose … you don’t want to consider it.
“I’m not really sure.”
“Hm? I thought you were friends with her in high school.”
“Not really, no. We sometimes waved to each other in the halls, but she waved at pretty much everyone in school.”
Irene pursed her lips. “Hm … I really got the impression that you two were close friends, at least.”
Leave it to Seulgi to talk to another person about someone like you as if you were her close friend. It isn’t much later that Seulgi herself arrives, and none the wiser either. The topic of Justin doesn’t come up again, and having Seulgi ask you where Justin is in your Calc3 class later that day affirms this for you: Seulgi is too pure for this world. You aren’t her ‘white knight’, and the idea that you, of all people, should protect her is cringe-inducing at best and pretentious at worst, but it’s pretty clear that it needs to be done. You can’t bear the thought of someone taking advantage of Seulgi’s kindness, and, selfishly, you don’t ever want this part of Kang Seulgi, her overwhelming friendliness that borders on naivete, to vanish due to someone using it for their own selfish purposes.
It doesn’t take long after Justin that it starts happening more and more: you acquire Irene’s aid, but it’s not like you two can babysit Seulgi forever. It doesn’t help that she’s living in a single, meaning you can’t even enlist the help of a roommate to your cause. Instead, it’s you happening upon her at the fountain near the science building, chatting away with some guy who is very clearly taking every chance he can to look at Seulgi’s exposed midriff, and going out of your way to greet her. Or, it’s you seeing her at a café she introduced you to second week after classes started and seeing the guy talking to her being a little too touchy, hands dangerously close to her torso, but Seulgi never seeming to really notice. Or, it’s a bunch of other stories from Irene, who you’ve had to exchange numbers with in this pursuit of protecting Seulgi, all of this slowly, but surely, leading up to you making any and all excuses to hang out with Seulgi so that you can keep an eye on her.
Of course, Seulgi doesn’t seem to catch on to your intentions, and in fact seems to be happy that you’re inviting her to eat lunch and chill at the nearby rec center before heading to your Calc3 class, that you’re looking for every single hang-out location downtown to bring her and Irene to on the weekends. You might’ve felt slightly self-conscious before, so shamelessly inviting someone like Kang Seulgi to all these places, but this isn’t about yourself. It’s about Seulgi, and making sure nothing undue happens to her.
And so, the first year passes like that: Irene and you, along with a few other of Seulgi’s friends that were enlisted—all of whom were females, despite Seulgi having no shortage of male friends. You suspect it has something to do with Irene, who quickly established herself as Seulgi’s best friend but, for some reason, isn’t the one being asked to room with her in the following year. With her connections, Seulgi manages to snag one of the most highly-sought-after apartments on campus, and of all people, Seulgi asks you to be her roommate.
“Me? What about Irene?”
“She was the one who told me to ask you. She said she already has an apartment for next year, but she says that it’s close by, though!”
Over this year, you have learned all sorts about Seulgi that makes you realize how easy it is for her to, without meaning to, attract someone. Above all else, Seulgi is extremely affectionate and clingy, finding every excuse to hug and hold the hands of her friends. Of course, there’s her stunning beauty and her dazzling eye-smile that causes heart palpitations to all manner of people, but there’s also her outgoing, sunny personality that draws people in like a nickel to a super magnet. The way she dresses, too, tends to show off her nice figure: her slim waist, her toned midriff, her milky-smooth legs, and the number of tight shirts that she has, that you swear have been growing over the year … you really do try not to look, but are only mostly successful in doing so. Thankfully, you haven’t caught the ire of Irene, who somehow either hasn’t noticed you stealing a few glances, or is otherwise pretending not to notice, despite the number of guys you’ve caught her glaring at that were looking a bit too hard at Seulgi. You can’t really blame Irene for glaring, either; you’ve learned, over the years, to view every man as a potential threat to Seulgi, lest you encounter another scenario where you find a close male friend of hers getting a bit too close to a black-out-drunk Seulgi while clearly recovering from a hangover himself. Upon further questioning, Seulgi revealed that it was her who pushed them to drink so much, although she refused to disclose what they were talking about and why it warranted such alcohol consumption. Maybe it was just you being paranoid; from how it appeared, it did look like he was about to do something to her, but thinking back, you realize it’s also plausible that he was trying to check in on Seulgi.
“But … I’m a guy…?”
Seulgi laughs. “I know that, silly! The building is co-ed. Unless…” Seulgi’s voice diminishes real quick real fast, and you start to panic slightly. Is it some expression on your face that you aren’t aware of? Maybe you shouldn’t have said that? “…you don’t want to?”
What? That’s what she’s worried about?
This Seulgi woman … did you ever mention she’s too pure for this world?
“Well, I mean, I was thinking about getting into one of the dorms closer to the center of campus, but I haven’t really applied for any of them yet.”
“So?” Seulgi’s voice is back to the happy, chipper tone you’re used to. You breathe an internal sigh of relief. Whatever it was, it seemed to have passed just as quickly as it arrived. “You’ll join me?!”
It’s true that being Seulgi’s roommate will make it easier to keep an eye out on her. But the question remained: what about your own sanity? Spending this much time with someone who was gradually becoming well-known on campus, in various social circles and as an up-and-coming volleyball player on the bench of the university’s team, who has been confessed to so many times that Seulgi has stopped crying to you about how bad she feels about rejecting yet another person, you’ve gotten as used to her as any straight man can. But, the prospect of living with a woman so strikingly, dangerously attractive and effortlessly, obliviously alluring, in your mind, is a combination made in hell that’s designed to test your patience and restraint to the max.
You’ve already decided that you, of all people, will never do anything to Seulgi. For whatever reason, you seem to be the only man close to Seulgi that Irene tolerates, even to the degree that she’ll talk about Seulgi’s male friends to you behind their backs. To act on any impulses, to fall for her in any way, is a betrayal of Irene’s trust in you, and more importantly, is a betrayal of your own morales.
“Um…”
“Please, please, please, pleaaaase?”
When Seulgi uses those puppy-dog-eyes on you, there’s nothing you can do but to acquiesce to her request. And as Seulgi squeals and hugs you in celebration, you reinforce this idea in your head: you will never, ever, for any reason whatsoever, do anything to Seulgi. You’re just there to protect her. You’re there to chase off anyone who would have bad intentions with her. Irene is counting on you.
“Thank you!! Next year is gonna be soo much fun!”
Seulgi’s joy is infectious, and eventually, you find yourself grinning stupidly along with her. “You’re really that lonely, living by yourself, huh?”
She nods. “I thought it would be fun to do that at first, but…” you know. There have been no shortages of nights that Seulgi has spent at your, or Irene’s, or any of her female friends’, place. You live in a male dorm, though, and have repeatedly tried to get it into her head that her coming over to a place filled with men is a bad idea, especially since those men often give you shit for being so close to her, having been asked on more than one occasion, “So, how’s her pussy?”, a question you always shoot down with a glare and a following, “We’re just friends bro, what the fuck?” The night always ends with you walking her home and her begging you to stay at her place for just a little bit longer, and seeing her pleading with you almost always makes you freeze at the door, but this is the one line you told yourself you would never cross.
So much for that.
“…it’s just, there are times when I want to watch a movie with someone, you know? Or just, talk with about things, and whenever I’m doing homework, it’s nice to be able to take a break from it with someone or scratch their brain about it.”
“Well, you can always use ChatGPT.”
“But it’s not the same! I can’t hug ChatGPT after it helps me, I can’t look at ChatGPT in the eyes and know that it’s really, truly listening and empathizing with me, I can’t—”
“I know, I was kidding.”
“…oh…” Seulgi pouts again and lightly slaps your shoulder, “…meanie.”
“Well, do I have to sign a lease or something?”
“Yeah!” And just like that, Seulgi’s mood turned around completely. “I’ll email you the link for you to sign. Ooh, I can’t wait!!”
There are a few things that you’re worried about, first and foremost being how clumsy Seulgi is: it’s like the universe decided to balance out her insane attractiveness, her magnetically friendly disposition, her bubbliness that can always put a smile on even the most unwilling face, with this one fault, and it only makes her cuter. Her incredible knack for finding something to knock over, or to trip over nothing, is truly astounding; you sometimes wonder how she’s been able to get through life in one piece, not to mention how she manages to stay so positive and happy-go-lucky. Another is the two modes she has: her usual mode, in which she’s smiling and clumsy and very affectionate and caring; and her serious mode, in which she becomes completely unrecognizable, and one that you definitely don’t find sexy in any way, and it’s definitely not something you—
Yeah, this is going to be a problem.
And in the first week or two after moving in with her, your fears are validated. It turns out, there’s even more to learn about Seulgi, like how she seems to dress up at home at all times, wearing outfits that don’t seem particularly comfortable, and how she can’t stand not being in makeup, even going so far as to hide her bare face the few times you’ve accidentally caught her in the morning, walking to her bathroom. Even more so than last year, Seulgi intrudes on you, walking into your room and asking to watch a movie together or play a game together or try a dessert she bought on the way home together or just sit in the living room and talk about stuff together.
After learning about how you usually did your meals, Seulgi starts insisting that the two of you cook your meals for every dinner, with the expense for ingredients being split evenly. “Look at us, cooking together like a ma—”
A silence stretching almost a full minute follows. Why couldn’t you hear the rest of the sentence? Did the noise of the stove fan overpower her? “…hm?” You look over at Seulgi, who is chopping up some green onions at the moment. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear, what did you say?”
“Nothing!” Seulgi doesn’t turn to face you, but you swear you can see the tip of her ear being slightly pinker than usual.
It hasn’t even been an entire month, but it feels like these kinds of instances happen not infrequently. You don’t really know how to describe them: it’s like Seulgi tries to do something, or say something, but stops herself. Is she just being conscious of you? Because you’re a guy? You don’t know how to ask her about it, either, because you don’t even know what is it you want to ask. It does feel like Seulgi does get flustered more easily than you originally figured, although it’s more understandable to be flustered about the next incident. You’ve just finished taking a shower and, after getting out, realized you didn’t grab a new shirt. So, you dry yourself off, put on boxers and your shorts, and go to your room with your old shirt in hand, only to run into Seulgi.
“Oh!”
“Oh, Seulgi—” For a split second, you swear you could’ve seen her eyes bulge out of their sockets. Her gaze lingers for a brief second, or so it feels like to you, before she diverts her gaze to the side, then the ground. “—sorry, I just forgot a shirt, so…”
“A-Ah, really? Um, it’s ok.”
Again, Seulgi makes sure not to show you her face, but you swear you can just barely make out a slight bit of redness at the tip of her ears. But, that’s normal, isn’t it? It doesn’t mean anything. Any girl would react in such a way if they happened upon her shirtless male friend. Most likely, it’s just her reacting that way out of shock not anything else. Certainly not because she is impressed or attracted to you or anything.
You didn’t really think much of it. One of the reasons you decided to take on this endeavor is because you felt you were already accustomed to being close to Seulgi. Physically, that is: hugging, holding hands, feeling her chin resting on your shoulder to watch a video you’re showing her, even more mundane things like sharing utensils and getting a matching bag accessory. It has definitely not been good for your heart, but accustoming yourself to it has been more of a matter of survival than anything else. Whether you like it or not, Seulgi is going to be physically affectionate, so the question is simply: how soon can you get used to it? The answer turned out to be about eight months.
Or at least, that’s what the answer was. Now that you’re living with her, you’re unsure.
You can’t even blame summer break because, although few and far between, you still met up with Seulgi a few times in the two-month span, coming from the same city and all. It’s just … the increased frequency at which close-ness happens. You really did think that you had a grasp on how to calm yourself around Seulgi, but it turns out, seeing her sleepily wish you goodnight or grocery shopping with her or taking an occasional post-dinner walk together makes it really hard to keep a cool head at all times. Constantly reminding yourself your purpose in rooming with her and to keep your delusions in your head … it’s only been two weeks, but it already feels exhausting. How are you supposed to survive, what, nine more months of this?
Given that you and Seulgi are doing different majors, you’re at least given some reprieve during classes. However, you soon learn that, in fact, Irene is in a fair amount of your classes. How you didn’t know Irene was doing your major with how much time you spent with her and Seulgi, you aren’t sure. Thankfully, it does give the two of you some time to strategize in your protect-Seulgi strategy.
“Thank you, by the way.”
If Seulgi is an energetic puppy, Irene is a graceful cat. Seulgi’s energy bounces off the walls; she illuminates the room she’s in, and her smile inevitably gets transferred onto the faces of others. With Irene, she’s softer. More graceful, regal, even. Irene’s presence seems to calm everything around her down, to a point where one starts to realize how horribly out of place one is being so close to her.
“Hm? For what?”
“For agreeing to be Seulgi’s roommate.”
And when she smiles at you, you feel your heart skip a few beats.
These otherworldly beauties, so haphazardly using their absolutely radiant, heart-stopping smiles like it’s no big deal. First Seulgi, now Irene; they really needed to learn to reel it in, lest they give you heart problems. They really do ought to use them with more responsibility and intent. It’s just a smile, but you swear you almost fell for Irene right then and there.
“She’s a handful, isn’t she?”
You laugh. “A little bit. The other day, she forgot about the thing she was cooking and I swear, nearly set off the fire alarm. We had to open every single window in the apartment to vent out the smoke.”
Irene laughs. It’s a truly musical sound, and the sight is one to behold as well: her perfectly proportional, perfectly symmetrical features light up, with her eyes disappearing into slits and her lips parting into laughter, and it’s all but inevitable that you join in with her as well.
“That does sound like Seulg—”
“Hey, what are you talking about?”
Irene lets out a shriek, jumping as Seulgi pats her shoulder. Irene head whips around and sighs upon seeing her best friend’s face. “Oh my gosh, it’s just you.”
“It’s just me! So, what were you talking about?”
“Hm? Oh, nothing!” As Irene responds, she starts making some space between the two of you. Not that you mind, but you do notice it. “We were just studying for an upcoming exam.”
Seulgi guffaws. “Already?!”
Irene nods and pouts along with her best friend. “I know, right?”
“Well, if he’s your study partner,” Seulgi nods at you, “then you’re sure to ace the exam.”
Irene nods. “Yeah, that’s why I’m not that worried about it.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of pressure you’re putting on me there.”
“It’s not fair.”
“Hm?” Irene directs an inquisitive gaze towards Seulgi, who is looking at you.
“I want to study with you too, but Irene’s stealing you from me.”
It’s so difficult. It’s so damn difficult to not get the wrong idea when Seulgi says stuff like this, pouting like she’s genuinely jealous. Does the universe expect your heart not to skip three beats at that?
“Well, too bad~” Irene replies in a singsong voice, sticking her tongue out at Seulgi. “You have Wendy to help you study, anyway.”
“Yeah! Wendy’s really smart, too. You should be even more confident with her as your study partner.”
And you swear, Seulgi looks a little bit disappointed upon hearing you say that. Even though you’re one-hundred percent sure Wendy is much, much smarter than you. “…it’s not about that…” is what she responds to you with, or at least, that’s what you thought she said.
“Hm?”
“I said, you’re right about that!” Oh, so you did mishear.
But when Seulgi flashes you with a beaming smile, you feel like you can also see a similarly disappointed expression on Irene’s face.
You have more female friends than male friends—that is to say, you only have one male friend, the rest being female friends of Seulgi’s. That fact does come with some perks: they are more than willing to throw compliments around like it’s nothing, they always have your back when any issue arises, and they’re always ready to talk about anything and everything that you wanted to talk to them about. But this is one of the negatives: it feels like, sometimes, there are hidden motives, or secret messages or meanings in their words that you can never quite catch on to. It’s something that you have been desperately trying to get better at, which Seulgi gives you a fair number of late-night conversations to improve at, such two nights after the exam.
“You know Annie?”
“Yeah, the one who’s always asking you to join the dance team.”
“Yeah.” From just her tone, you can tell that something’s wrong. But that’s just the basics. In an effort to improve your mind-reading skills, you’ve started to play a little game: can you guess what Seulgi’s about to say just from the tone of her voice and the look on her face? Seulgi is a woman who wears her emotions on her sleeves, someone who can’t lie to save her own life, so it theoretically should be easy to get in the right ballpark, but your record is still pretty bad.
What would it be this time? Maybe it has something to do with the dance team? Did it disband recently?
“Terry, someone from the male dance team, asked me out earlier.” Well, looks like you were completely wrong again. “And I rejected him.” You reach out and pat her hand as she speaks. “But Annie, who has a crush on him, was with me when it happened.” It’s truly astonishing, how empathetic Seulgi is. Of course, there’s the obvious matter of having to reject the confession of the crush of one of your friends, but she also genuinely looks guilty. Like, as if she could’ve done something about it. “I … didn’t know what to do. I just…” a tear falls down her cheek, her voice warbles, and she lets out a sniffle. “…I just feel so bad. I was cheering for them so much, we even had a plan to set them up on a date next week, but…”
“It’s ok, Seulgi.” Your arm goes around her shoulder to pull her into a half-hug, and Seulgi buries her damp face into your chest. “It’s not your fault.”
“B-But, maybe it was because I insisted on being in charge of gathering information from him. I was so excited for Annie that I didn’t even realize…”
The more she speaks, the more uneven her voice becomes. It’s starting to tug at your own heartstrings, too. “It’s not your fault, Seulgi. Wanting to help your friends is never a bad thing.”
“B-But, but if I just let someone else do that job, maybe that wouldn’t have happened!”
If Terry spent so long with Annie but ended up falling in love with you from spending a handful of minutes here and there over the course of a few weeks, then the chances seemed pretty low for Terry to reciprocate Annie’s feelings. You don’t say that, of course. You may be slightly socially awkward, but you’re not that socially inept. “You don’t control how Terry feels, or who he falls in love with. And who knows? Maybe Annie and Terry’s bond will grow after this.”
“…I don’t want Annie to hate me, though.”
“Why would Annie hate you?”
“Because…”
You asked the question already knowing the answer, but you still ended up asking it. It’s not a very logical train of thought, to dislike your friend for being the recipient of a love confession from your crush, but you also know that love isn’t exactly logical. “But you worked so hard on helping Annie with Terry, didn’t you?” You can feel her nod against your chest. “Give her enough time, and she’ll realize that you were just trying to help. I don’t think she can be mad at you once she realizes that.”
“…really?”
You’re the one that nods this time. The entire time, you’ve been soothingly rubbing her back, but now that she’s looking up at you, from an incredibly close distance, mind you, not only does your hand stop, but so does your brain. Calm down. Get over it. “Yeah.” You can only hope that you aren’t blushing right now. What a wildly inappropriate response, considering how Seulgi’s literally crying in your arms. You try not to let the scolding you’re giving yourself show on your face.
“Promise?”
“I…” you tilt your head in confusion, Seulgi’s response breaking the spell of enchantment her teary eyes placed on you. “…if she doesn’t, then I’ll go talk to her myself.”
Seulgi giggles at that. “Don’t threaten her!”
“I never said I was going to do that.”
“That’s how you made it sound like though.”
You smile again and pat her back a few times for good measure. “But, don’t worry too much about it, ok? From the few times I’ve spoken with Annie, it seemed like she’s a good girl. If she’s mad at you, she’ll forgive you eventually.”
Seulgi nods and sits back up straight. “By the way…” Seulgi directs what you can only describe as an accusatory glare at you. “…Irene.”
“…What about Irene?”
“You see her a lot, don’t you?”
You nod slowly. What’s this about? Does Seulgi maybe want you to protect Irene against potential suitors, like you promised Irene regarding Seulgi? That would certainly be a humorous situation: both best friends asking a third-party, and a guy at that, to protect the other from undue advances from potentially sleezy guys. Although not as frequent, you’re not unaware at how many guys have shot their shot with Irene. “Yeah, I guess. We’re in a lot of the same classes, since there aren’t many people in our major.”
“Hm…” Seulgi, while lightly dabbing her eyes with a tissue to clear them of tears, maintains a steady gaze on you.
“If you’re wondering about if guys ask her out often, I—”
“You really haven’t noticed?”
“…noticed? I guess maybe guys ask her out when I’m not around her, but…”
“No, not that. Irene. About … you.”
Ok, this isn’t where you thought this was going at all. “What about me?”
“Are you serious?”
Did you forget something that happened recently? But, digging through your memory of the past few weeks, you’re coming up blank. “Seulgi, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Irene! She has a crush on you!”
You don’t mean to be rude. The thought of being mean to Seulgi is completely foreign to you. The most you would go would be to tease her, but that’s only because she gives such good reactions due to how simple-minded she tends to be. But, what can you do but laugh at such an outlandish hypothesis? “What?”
“Stop laughing at me like that! I’m serious! I’m her best friend, I would know.”
Is she mistaking all the time you spend together with Irene, strategizing about ways to keep Seulgi safe, as her having feelings for you? But you can’t just tell Seulgi that’s why you’ve been spending so much time with her: how would Seulgi feel if she found out that her friends have been doing this behind her back? She’d feel devastated, that her friends are secretly working so hard for her sake, and that’s not something you want to be on your conscience. “Why would you think that?”
“What do you mean? You two spend so much time together!”
There’s something in her voice, though. Maybe it’s leftover from the tears she was spilling recently. But there’s also something on her face, a lack of the sparkle that appears every time she’s talking about romance. Maybe it’s because it’s awkward, since she’s suspecting her best friend has feelings for another of her close friends? “Well, I mean, it’s just easier to do homework and stuff with someone else, and I know Irene the best out of everyone in our classes, so…”
“How about you? Do you like her back?”
Seulgi doesn’t seem to be listening to you, which seems … out of character? For someone like Seulgi, the very definition of puppy-dog friendliness, who even sat down with a homeless man to listen to his woes once, it isn’t like her to just disregard what you said. Maybe it’s just that she doesn’t buy your excuse.
“I…” Irene is insanely attractive, both outwardly and inwardly. If you just got past her somewhat icy exterior, it’s easy to start falling for her. For anyone else, it might’ve been a forgone conclusion that they fall in love with Irene. Were it not that your heart was already taken, so too might you have. “…I don’t like her romantically, no. But she’s a great friend…?” Ok, now it sounds like you’re friend-zoning Irene. Irene. Irene. Probably more beautiful than most celebrities, has one of the most pleasant voices you’ve ever heard, caring, gentle, kind, can cook, has a natural maternal instinct to take care of her loved ones without any prompting. That Irene. Is it even allowed to friend-zone her?
“Oh.” Seulgi does sound somewhat happy about that. Or perhaps it’s relief that there isn’t going to be anything awkward between two of her close friends.
“Why do you think that Irene has a crush on me?”
Seulgi shrugs. “I can’t really say, but I can just tell.”
In your eyes, it’s Seulgi that Irene so obviously has a crush on. You’re even relatively sure some of Seulgi’s friends suspect the same thing, too. But you aren’t confident enough to say it, so instead, you just say, “That’s not very convincing.”
“Whatever. I know my best friend.”
“…and even if Irene does have a crush on me,” you cringe slightly at that. Even saying it feels wrong. “…should you be telling me about it?”
“Why not? Is there something wrong with wanting two of my best friends to get together if they like each other?”
‘Best friend’, huh. Apparently, you’re the only one who hasn’t picked up on that, of being promoted to one of Seulgi’s best friends, as one of Seulgi’s male friends—the rare one that doesn’t seem to have any romantic interest in Seulgi, or Irene for that matter—asks you about it. Or rather, not that, but something adjacent.
“Are you and Seulgi dating?”
Are you just a rude person? Maybe you are. But honestly, who wouldn’t burst out laughing at such a question? Twice in two weeks has someone suggested something so unrealistic. It’s not like you’re a protagonist in some romcom manga. It’s just too preposterous of an idea to not laugh at.
“What? No, of course not.”
Mark shoots an inquisitive, unbelieving look at you. “I don’t believe you.”
“Wha—why? I swear, I’m not dating Seulgi.” Said woman is currently perusing Banana Republic with some other female friends while you and Mark, who have been dragged along as extra hands to carry bags most likely, are waiting outside. “Ask her, she’ll tell you.”
“Hm…”
“…why don’t you believe me?”
“Well, I mean, you live with her, and I heard that it was Irene who asked you to be her roommate.” Even amongst Seulgi’s friends, Irene has a reputation of being somewhat cold to even Seulgi’s male friends. That, of course, included Mark, although she’s less cold and more indifferent to him by now. “And you were holding hands earlier, and she seems pretty comfy leaning on your shoulder or hugging you out of nowhere…”
You furrow your eyebrows. “What?” What’s so unique about that? “Well, you know.” You intended to leave it at that, but from Mark’s expression, he does not, in fact, seem to know. “That’s just how she is.” And now, it doesn’t seem like Mark is buying it. “You know how physically affectionate Seulgi is.”
“Only to her female friends. And you.”
You frankly can’t believe it. You scan Mark’s face for any signs of teasing, or him trying to do a ‘gotcha!’, maybe to get you to admit your feelings for her. But, there’s nothing. “…really?”
“Yeah, really. I don’t think she’s even tried to hold my hand before, but she just reaches for yours like it’s the natural spot for her hand to be.”
“Ok, you’re exaggerating a little now.”
“What is Mark exaggerating about?”
The two of you jump at the sound of Seulgi’s voice. You’ve apparently gotten so engrossed in the conversation, your mind so blown at the revelation that Seulgi apparently isn’t physically affectionate to any of her other male friends, that you didn’t hear or see her approaching. “Nothing!” Unfortunately, the fact that both you and Mark say that at the same time only makes Seulgi more suspicious.
“No, tell me! Why are you leaving me out?” Seulgi whines, slipping her hands into yours and bumping her shoulder into you. But now that Mark said that tidbit, you’re suddenly a lot more self-conscious of Seulgi. You thought it was something you got over already, how clingy Seulgi is, but the thought that you’re somewhat special to her…?
“Nothing important. Just guy stuff,” Mark replies.
Are your palms sweaty? Oooh no. You can’t suddenly get so self-conscious of her. Not now, not this late into having committed to this whole ordeal, of being the only guy Irene trusted to protect Seulgi. What about Irene’s trust in you? Are you just going to betray her like that?
However self-conscious Mark’s comment makes you of Seulgi, she doesn’t seem to notice at all: not for the rest of the trip to the mall, not after dinner that day when she randomly hugs you from behind while you’re doing the dishes because ‘she was bored’, and certainly not when she’s cuddling up to you, a week later, watching a movie on the couch, with a glass of wine in her other hand.
“That guy … is so oblivious, it’s a little annoying, isn’t it?”
From hearing such a comment coming from Seulgi of all people, you can’t help but let out a little chuckle. “Yeah, it sorta is, huh?” You can feel Seulgi’s eyes land on you, but before you can look back, her eyes are already directed back to the TV screen, taking another sip of her wine. “Isn’t that your second glass? Are you gonna be ok?”
Seulgi nods. “My first class isn’t until 2:00 tomorrow.”
“Right.”
There’s a brief lull, in which you two return your attention back to the movie. Seulgi, for whatever reason, seems pretty dead-set on finishing her second glass of wine, and when she does, she sets it down onto the table and turns towards you. “Does that guy remind you of someone?”
“Huh?” Your eyes go back to the screen, but the more you rack your brain, the more confused you get. Is she trying to precede a story with that question? Maybe recounting something from high school? “Um … I don’t think so?” Seulgi sighs and turns away from you for a second. You watch her do something—collecting herself? “What—” the next moment, Seulgi has turned back towards you, cheeks flushed a deep red but a determined look on her face, and the next, you feel something warm and slightly moist on your lips. You open your eyes, and it’s only then that you even realized you closed your eyes. Seeing Seulgi’s gently closed eyes mere centimeters from yours, feeling the warmth of her face emanating onto yours, the velvety texture of her lips pressing against yours, quivering, a prominent taste of sweetness from her lipstick mixed in with the slight bitterness of the wine she was drinking filling your taste buds.
Wait. Seulgi is kissing…
No. This shouldn’t be how it is. You can’t do this. You’re supposed to protect her, not…
The thought is fleeting, though. You aren’t a lightweight by any means, but the taste of alcohol from Seulgi’s lips causes you to sink into a drunken stupor. Your brain feels like its melting. You can’t get a grip of your surroundings, but at the same time, it feels like every single one of your senses sharpened by a few degrees.
Fuck. Is this happening? Do I smell bad? How do I even kiss? Should I be—
When Seulgi pulls away, you’re still staggering from the sudden kiss. You can’t be drunk from that miniscule amount of alcohol you consumed, right? You didn’t even drink any tonight.
“Sorry, did you not like it…?”
“Hm?” Oh. That brief, instinctual pulling back motion you did.
You move to explain yourself, but Seulgi has already turned away from you, dejected, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry…”
“No, Seulgi, it wasn’t—”
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I-I, I just—” your palm on her cheek silences her. You turn her head to face you; the sight of the tears welling up in her confused eyes tugs at your heartstrings, but it’s enough conviction to follow through by tilting your head and capture her lips in another kiss.
You can tell you’ve caught Seulgi by surprise, but when she finally processes what just happened, she melts into your embrace. Her weight shifts onto you, which you’re ready for by using your free hand to brace her waist, and then starts to lean in to deepen it. The feeling of her soft, sweet, slightly bitter lips moving against yours, needy, desperate, as if she can’t get enough of you, of your warmth, your affirmation and your own desire for her, all of it on top of Seulgi pressing herself onto you, leaning into you, is pushing your senses into overdrive. Your lungs constrict and your chest tightens, and trying to keep up is all you can do from getting utterly consumed by Seulgi. It’s messy and sloppy and wet, and as much as it feels like you’re also melting into Seulgi’s embrace, you can’t help thinking: are you doing this properly? Are you kissing properly? Is Seulgi enjoying it too?
“Mmm…” her muffled moan assuages your doubts, doubly so when her hands loop back around your neck and pull you closer. Your other hand finds her waist, and with how close she already was to you, all that’s left to do is to pull her onto your lap. For a brief moment, Seulgi pulls away to swing her leg to the other side of your lap, straddling you with her legs, and for that brief moment, the two of you share an exasperated, breathless, but exuberant look.
Seulgi is stunning. Her hair slightly unkempt, a tear streaking down her left cheek, but she’s more beautiful than you’ve ever seen her. The ghost of her lips has you yearning for more, but the desire to bathe in her beauty overshadows everything else.
Then, Seulgi giggles. A musical set of notes that sets your heart aflutter. “You stole some of my lipstick.”
You grin back. “Mind if I steal some more?”
Seulgi obliges eagerly, pressing her lips back against yours and her chest against your chest. The warmth from her body, the warmth from her lips, seeps into yours, and as the two of you move in awkward synchronization, you slowly start to lose your sense of self. It feels like you’re melting under her touch, the way she’s pressing herself against you. Her body heat, her soft, warm lips, her eyelashes brushing against your face, puffs of air from her nose landing on your cheek, her legs, her arms, her torso mixed with yours, it’s making your head spin. When she finally pulls away, Seulgi looks as out of it as you are, cheeks dyed a deep red hue. “Should we…?”
Wordlessly, you pick her up and carry her to her bedroom.
Part 2 coming ... eventually! :D
(sorry, this might mean you might have to wait like, 2 months or more...)
“Unnie! Unnie! No! Let me go—unnie! Get off me! Unnie!”
In the endless mental fog, all I could hear were Wonyoung’s screams, echoing through my broken thoughts like bullets ricocheting off those dark, soulless walls that must have seen and heard so many sinful secrets.
“Wonyoung-ssi, please calm down,” a man pleaded. “The VIPs are watching.”
“Let her go…” Wonyoung’s cries faded into a hollow, broken sound, making it impossible to tell if she was being dragged away or just ran out of air. “Please… let her go… Unnie… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”
I wanted to speak. Scream until my throat tore apart. Reach for her, run to her, hold her.
But I couldn’t.
Not when my body had already forsaken me.
Not when my mind couldn’t even decide who to run after.
The love of my life—or the person who gave me hope when there was nothing left to live for?
The crowd fell into waves of whispers and murmurs. My limbs still refused to listen, and all I could do was crane my neck, just enough to notice Yujin’s trembling lips dancing between her pink blindfold and a collar that looked like it was dying to brag about once belonging to her.
Yujin.
I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.
I should’ve never let you come here with me.
And then came the clicks; the rhythmic, sharp sound of heels striking the floor.
A single female figure emerged from the shadows, moving confidently into the spotlight before stopping right in front of Yujin’s bare, exposed body.
“Yujin-ah,” the woman said, in a soft, tender voice. “It’s been quite a long time, hasn’t it?”
“S-sunbae-nim?” Yujin asked in a ragged whisper. “Is that really you?”
I forced my head up. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest as I squinted through the blinding glare of the overhead lights until the silhouette sharpened.
IU… is the Queen of Clubs?
She didn’t wear a mask—just like Suzy, there was a golden crown on her head, and her black dress absorbed all the light from the stage like she was purposely shielding Yujin from the glares both above and below the stage.
“You’re so brave, sweetheart,” IU said gently, cupping Yujin’s face.
“Sunbae… I… I’m s-sorry,” Yujin choked out, leaning into the touch as if it were a life raft in a sea of despair. “I’m so sorry…”
“What could you possibly be sorry for?” IU whispered, reaching up to untie Yujin’s blindfold, letting the fabric drop to the floor.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough back then.” Yujin’s tears slowly slid down her cheeks as her vision cleared. “I’m sorry I disappointed you.”
“No. You made me so proud.” IU brushed the tears away with her thumbs, her own eyes glassy with a reflection of her pain. “And standing here today, I’m still so proud. You sweet, loving girl. You strong, brave, brave woman.”
“I was burned, sunbae,” Yujin reminded her, her voice shaking as she cried. “I was a failure. I let you down. I let everyone down.”
“You weren’t burned, Yujin. You were traded,” she corrected, her gaze as loving as a mother’s. “Your sister bought the world with her own life and gave it back to you.”
Yujin shook her head in either disbelief or denial. “No. That’s impossible. He told me that Wonyoung had to replace me because I didn’t qualify.”
“That’s a lie, unnie!” Wonyoung yelled from the shadows. “It wasn’t your fault! Don’t say that!”
“It was my fault. I ruined everything for her. I wasn’t good enough and she suffered because of me. There’s no one to blame but—”
“No! That’s not true! It was—”
The Dealer clapped his hands loudly, cutting them off. “An Yujin is the only former Ace to ever make a comeback, ladies and gentlemen!” he announced, as if he wasn’t even mildly interested in hearing what they had to say. “This is her first and only Blackjack Auction—as her time as an Ace was cut short due to… very heartbreaking reasons.
“You see, An Yujin was drawn into the House of Clubs with great promise to become their newest rising star. But our dearest Jang Wonyoung… our lovely Jang Wonyoung… made the most noble decision…” He paused dramatically to let the room hold its breath. “To switch places with her beloved sister...”
“Unnie, don’t listen to him!” Wonyoung begged, her voice cracking.
The Dealer paused, pressing a gloved hand to his chest as if the memory physically pained him. The rowdy cheers of the crowd died down, and were instead replaced by a heavy, intrigued silence.
“It is a tale as old as time,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper that echoed through the silent hall. “As you may know, the House of Clubs is known for its most unforgiving physical demands. Its intensity. Its ruthlessness. When the cards were drawn two years ago, it was An Yujin who held the Ace of Clubs. It was An Yujin who was destined to be the face and pride of IVE.”
He began to circle Yujin slowly, and all I could see from below was his shiny dress shoes clicking against the stage floor.
“But Wonyoung… oh, our sweet, precious Wonyoung,” the Dealer sighed, a sound of mock mourning. “She couldn’t bear the thought of her beloved childhood friend being forced to take such a heavy burden upon herself. She couldn’t stand the idea of Yujin’s spirit being crushed under the weight of such… unrealistic expectations. So she begged the Kings. She pleaded on her hands and knees, offering the only thing she had of value—herself.”
The audience was quiet. The only sound in the room was Wonyoung’s sobs leaking out from the distance.
“W-Wonyoung…” Yujin’s legs gave out, and she sank to her knees. “W-what is he talking about…?”
Yujin’s voice trembled in disbelief. “You… you begged them…? Why…?”
“I just—”
“Why did you do it?” Yujin’s voice rose, cracking with a mix of grief and a heartbreaking rage. “Why would you do something so stupid? Why?! Tell me!”
“I couldn’t take it! I saw the videos! I saw what they did to you!”
Yujin’s tears ran down her face. “V-videos? How? What videos? Who showed you?”
“Manager Choi!” Wonyoung cried, her spirit visibly breaking under the confession. “I saw how much you struggled, Unnie. I saw it with my own eyes—I couldn’t—”
“And so you suffered in my place?!” Yujin yelled. “I’m your unnie! I’m your leader! It’s my job to protect you!”
“No!” Wonyoung shook her head frantically, her hair whipping around her face as she reached out one last time. “It was never meant to be you! They told me everything—they planned to—”
Her voice was abruptly cut off, smothered behind a gloved palm as the staff members finally forced her back into the shadows.
“Wonyoung?” Yujin asked, voice cracking with fear. “Wonyoung?!”
The silence that followed was more devastating than any screams, leaving Yujin kneeling alone in the spotlight with the truth that finally laid bare and bleeding on the stage.
“A life for a life! A soul for a soul!” the Dealer shouted, throwing his arms wide as if unveiling a masterpiece. “She offered to take Yujin’s place! She offered to bear the burden of being the Ace alone, to submit to the House of Spades—the highest, darkest, and most demanding court of them all—if only they would set Yujin free!”
He stopped directly in front of Yujin, tilting his head with a cruel, demented smile.
“And so they did. Yujin’s card was burned forever, and Jang Wonyoung ascended into our world to become the perfect High Ace of Spades you all know and love. Our Wonyoung took every bruise, every command, and every night of degradation so that her sister could remain untainted.”
The Dealer let out a dark, chilling chuckle that pulled every hair off my skin. “But destiny, my friends… oh yes, destiny always collects its debts. Tonight, the cards finally come to collect what is owed.”
He snapped his fingers; the sound echoed like a gunshot, silencing the world around me. “Show us the results!”
My vision swam, the harsh stage lights piercing through the sweat and tears stinging my eyes as I forced myself to blink.
John, are you still out there?
I’m sorry I ruined everything.
You tried to help us, and I messed it all up.
I’m not like you. I’m not the hero of this story. Of any story.
I have nothing to offer. Nothing to give. All I have is her.
It was like the weight of the entire world was lifted from my shoulders. My body dropped to the floor, every muscle fiber instantly letting go.
“My goodness!” the Dealer exclaimed, his voice pitching higher into a state of manic glee. “Six Jokers have come out to play tonight at half-time! An absolute treasury of chaos!”
The silence of the revelation was instantly shattered.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Three Jokers? For a half-time show?” a man from the front row screamed, his gold mask slipping as he stood up in outrage. “For a girl who isn’t even an Ace anymore? This is a joke! A farce!”
“It’s madness!” a woman shrieked from the back. “We wasted our high cards for nothing!”
“Hey Nine! You’re crazy! You’re insane!”
“This was orchestrated to rob the decks!”
But their greed was mere white noise compared to the sound coming from the wings.
“No! Take me instead!” Wonyoung begged, falling to her knees, tears dripping past her blindfold. “Please! I’ll do anything! I’ll take double the VIPs! I’ll do two rounds! Just let her go! Please, just let her go!”
“No!” Yujin yelled. “Don’t you dare!”
“Unnie, no! You can’t! You don’t have to do this! This isn’t your life anymore!”
“And taking my place was never supposed to be yours!”
“No! I won’t allow this!”
“You don’t have a say in this!” Yujin cried. “It was my choice!”
“Why?” Wonyoung shouted. “Why would you choose this? Why would you?”
The Dealer leaned into his microphone, his breathing hard and heavy like a predator savoring the scent of blood. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he purred, his eyes fixed on Wonyoung. “The bond of sisterhood. Isn’t it just… delicious?”
“You promised!” Wonyoung shrieked, her voice cracking as she fought against the arms restraining her. “You all promised you wouldn’t touch her! I did everything you asked! I gave you everything!”
The Dealer didn’t answer her. He simply stood there, basking in the anguish that no amount of money could ever buy.
It was then that I finally understood—this was the true currency of the Auction. Pain. Suffering. Despair. All masked behind a fancy veil of Blackjack and playing cards.
This was the sick, twisted game that the King of Spades lived for.
“A round of applause for Table Nine, my lovely patrons,” the Dealer finally announced, his voice booming with excitement. “For the legends who have surrendered not one, not two, but three Jokers for our beautiful An Yujin.”
He paced back toward Yujin, his shadow falling over her like the cloak of a grim reaper. “But it appears we have ourselves a bit of a predicament,” he mused, tapping a gloved finger against his chin. “Without allegiance to a House, their face cards would be meaningless—like a set of master keys without any locks to open.”
He leaned down, his mask inches from Yujin’s ear. “My dear,” he said, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly soft register. “Your duty to the House of Clubs was written on a card that has long since been reduced to ash. It would be most unfair to force you to represent a ghost of the past.”
He turned back to the audience, his eyes glinting with a new, wicked inspiration. “So folks, how about we let An Yujin choose her own House tonight?”
The audience roared again, a thunderous sound that shook the very foundation of the building.
“For the first and final time in this history—in this sacred moment—let us give her the agency to decide her own destiny!”
The applause was deafening, and the words echoed across the room like a death sentence wrapped in celebration.
But from the darkness behind us, three additional female figures began to emerge. Their heels clicked in perfect unison, echoing through the hall like a countdown.
They stepped into the light, each one draped in floor-length gowns that shimmered like jewels in the stage light.
“How poetic,” said a woman in a bright red shoulder-less dress, “The Ace who was forgiven… can’t seem to forgive herself.”
She slowly stepped before me—or rather, before Yujin. I couldn’t see her face from the angle, but something about her cold, sharp voice and her long, wavy hair felt so eerily familiar.
“An Yujin, we finally meet,” another woman in red joined in. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
Yujin’s eyes widened, shaking with disbelief as they darted back and forth between the two of them. “Y-Yoona sunbae-nim? You’re… the Queen of Hearts…?”
Yoona nodded lovingly, as if they had already known each other. “I don’t know why you’re here, but come with me,” she said, her expression itself was a mask of sympathy. “His Majesty will protect you tonight.”
“Sunbae—I-I—”
“Come home, Yujin-ah,” IU said, holding Yujin’s hands to lift her to her feet. “Remember, in the House of Clubs, there are no victims, only performers. Our stage is a canvas, not a cage. Choose Clubs, and spread your wings again. The freedom from our House is a privilege that can never be bought or sold.”
“Sunbae…”
“An Yujin,” the Queen of Diamonds joined in, her voice like ice cracking under a winter moon. “I’ll say this once only. Diamonds are formed under the kind of pressure that would crush any human spirit.
“We do not offer freedom, and we certainly do not offer love. There is only power, and power comes from value. Total, undeniable worth that no man or woman can dare to take away from you. Will you choose to be a gem of utmost resilience, or are you still a little girl who cries for a hand to hold? Will you beg to be saved or shine brightly when facing the cruelty of this twisted world?”
The Dealer carefully watched the exchange, tilting his head like a curious bird. He didn’t speak. He didn’t dare interrupt the Queens. He simply basked in the tension, knowing that whatever Yujin chose, the house would always win regardless.
Yoona moved in from the other side, her red dress flowing like a river filled with rubies as she reached out, fingers hovering just inches from Yujin’s trembling hand.
“Choose love, Yujin-ah,” she whispered, her voice soft and warm like a sanctuary within the cold room. “In this transactional world, love is the only currency that doesn’t leave you with nothing. Love is the light that will guide you through the deepest darkness, the shield that will shatter the storm before it even touches your skin. Choose Hearts, and we will break the chains of this nightmare together. You’re not a soldier, you don’t need to fight anymore. Allow yourself to be cherished in all the ways that you deserve.”
“An Yujin,” Suzy’s voice cut through the air—sharp, harsh, and definitely unmistakable. “I won’t convince you to choose our House. You’ve seen what we are. Not anyone can become a Spade. Our grit was paid for by pain and sacrifice. By blood and tears.
“But a Spade doesn’t hide from the bruises. We turn them into armor. Our unwavering spirit was not given at birth—it is the brutal result of discipline, a choice made entirely by oneself, and a perseverance that defies all hardships. You can choose Hearts and walk through the night safe and sound. You can choose Clubs and relive the past that you was taken from you. Or you can choose Diamonds to mask your weakness with power—and call that strength.”
She leaned in, her golden crown glimmering like a halo of thorns.
“Or, you can choose Spades if you want to know what it means to truly be alive in a world that makes you wish you were dead. The choice is yours. In this wretched life, you can either crumble and fall, or play the hand that you were dealt. So trust your gut, but choose wisely. Choose yourself.”
“My, my, my,” the Dealer chuckled, clapping his hands together slowly. “What touching speeches. Truly, I am moved. To see the Queens fighting so passionately for a single soul… it really warms my heart.”
He stepped back, giving Yujin the stage as if he were handing it to her.
“But the clock is ticking, my dear. Please make your choice. Our lovely patrons await your word with bated breath.”
“Go back to your House!” a man roared, slamming his fist against a table. “It’s where you belong! Show us that Clubs performance!”
“Hearts! Choose Hearts, An Yujin!” a woman shrieked, her voice high and frantic. “You deserve better!”
“Diamonds! Choose Diamonds! Don’t let them ruin you!” others countered, their chants clashing in the air like waves hitting a cliffside.
“Spades! Spades! Spades!” The chant started in the back and rolled forward like a ritual. “Receive the punishment you deserve, An Yujin! You’ve been running for two years! Accept your fate! You know you want to be punished for your crimes!”
I looked toward the audience as my vision blurring in and out, somehow managing to catch sight of John. He wasn’t chanting. He wasn’t even smiling. He simply sat there, watching Yujin closely, casually tapping his watch while giving her a single, slow nod, as if he was ready, no matter what decision she made.
After a long moment, Yujin straightened her spine. The trembling in her lips stopped. She looked at IU, then Yoona, then the Queen of Diamonds whose face I still couldn’t see, and finally lingered on Suzy, who watched her carefully with sharp, piercing eyes.
“I choose,” she said, her voice clear and devoid of any hint of fear. “The House of Spades.”
The silence that followed was deafening, but it didn’t last. The audience erupted—not in applause, but in a predatory, primal howl.
Wonyoung’s scream was the only thing that pierced through it; a sound of absolute, soul-crushing heartbreak that shredded my own into a hundred pieces.
The Dealer’s smile was visible even through his mask—a wide, sinister grin of triumph. “It’s been decided,” he whispered, though his voice carried to every corner of the room. “Long live the House of Spades.”
Team 9 x Yujin:
x1 Jack +10
321 (₩3,210,000,000)
“A Jack? Only one Jack?! They played three Jokers to clear the field just to play a single Jack? This is an insult!”
“They’re mocking us! They burned the highest cards in our decks to steal this girl! We wasted our bids for a performance that’s being stifled!”
“Where are the Kings?! You pay three billion won just to let a Jack handle her? What kind of cowardice is this?!”
“A once in a lifetime performance and this is how you choose to play it?!”
The Dealer let out a sharp, rhythmic clap that cut through the rising tide of chaos. “Gentlemen, gentlemen! Please, restrain your frustrations! It’s unbecoming of such distinguished guests. Now, believe me, I understand your frustration. To see six Jokers exit the decks only to be followed by the humblest of face cards… it feels like a slap to the face, doesn’t it?”
He stopped and spread his arms wide, addressing the entire room with a flourish of his silk coattails.
“But let us not forget the fundamental law of this sacred Auction! The victor is the author of the night. Whether they choose to play an army of Kings or a mere Jack, it is their choice—bought and paid for with a sum that is nothing to undermine.” He gestured toward the screen, where the 3.2 billion won figure continued to pulse. “Table Nine has won the right to dictate the terms of this round. If they wish to use a sledgehammer to crack a nut, who are we to argue?”
The chatter persisted, but the Dealer’s tone hardened.
“In this room, money is the only morality. And in this round, Table Nine has spent the most of it. The results are clear. An Yujin has chosen to serve the House of Spades. They have chosen a Jack. And as per the rules of the Auction, these choices are absolute. If any of you felt so strongly about the performance, you should have played your Jokers when you had the chance. But you didn’t. You held them for a greater purpose, and now you must watch the show as it was bought!”
He turned his back on the crowd and looked down at me, his smile returning, wider and more jagged than before. “Our Jack is ready, and our new Ace is waiting. Let us proceed!”
The lights cut to black, severing the past and present into two, leaving only the afterimage of his mask burned into my mind. In the sudden darkness, the air felt suffocating like it was heavy with the scent of lust and fear.
“Are you able to perform, Jack?” a voice asked from the shadows behind me.
My body moved before my mind could catch up, forcing myself to my knees. “Yes,” I stumbled.
A gloved hand materialized from the dark, presenting me with the silver tray like a floating limb. I grabbed a couple of the yellow pills and threw them into my mouth, swallowing them dry in one painful gulp, no longer having any luxury to hesitate or even question how many I’d already taken. They scraped against my throat like broken glass, leaving a bitter trail that made me gag after tasting it so many times, but I forced the nausea down as the person behind me gave me a final, firm shove toward the curtain.
I stumbled my way into the blinding white spotlight. The world screamed at me; colors became too vivid, sounds amplified into a chaotic roar, all while dozens of masked figures sat in the darkness beyond the stage like a gallery of lions waiting to be fed.
But then I saw her. And once I did, it was all I could see.
“Yujin!” I called out, running towards her before realizing my legs were moving.
Yujin’s body jerked, as if my voice had physically struck her. “Wonbin?” she asked, turning around.
She leaped into my arms, nearly knocking me to the ground. My hands desperately wrapped her waist, pulling her flush against my chest. The familiar scent of her hair and the perfume that still clung onto her skin sent me into a nostalgic daze.
Hell and home somehow became a single place.
“Yujin-ah,” I choked out, burying my face in her neck as I held her tightly. “Are you okay?”
She pulled me even closer, her nails digging into my flesh. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she whispered rapidly, her breath hot against my ear. “I’m okay, Wonbin. Don’t worry, hey—breathe—breathe—I’m okay.”
“Y-you’re okay,” I said, the relief so overwhelming my knees finally gave out. I sank to the floor, dragging her down with me until we were kneeling together in the spotlight. “Thank god you’re okay.”
“Wonbin-ah,” she whimpered, her hands clutching the back of my head, fingers twisting into my hair. “I was so scared. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I’m here,” I murmured against her skin, lips brushing the pulse that fluttered wildly in her throat. “I’m right here.”
The Dealer clicked his tongue dramatically. “Well would you look at that… a pair of lovebirds. What were the odds? Or did Team Nine know this was coming? Folks, it would appear that this may end up being great entertainment after all…”
Yujin frantically patted my face and my shoulders, as if checking for wounds. “Y-you’re a Jack of Spades?” she stammered. “What on earth happened?”
“They told me to join the game,” I panted. “Or else Mingyu would get what he wants.”
“He already got what he wanted. He led us straight into their hands.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault—I should’ve—”
She shook her head, eyes already watering. “No, it’s okay. It’s fine. We’re both okay.”
“No. It’s my fault that you’re back on this stage. It’s my fault that you became an Ace again.”
“Wonbin-ah,” she said, holding me still, forcing me to look at her. “Listen to me. It’s okay. I’m here with you. So it’s okay. If it’s with you, it’s okay.”
“Why did you pick Spades? How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t know,” she breathed. “I took a gamble. I trusted my gut like Suzy sunbae said to. I—I think she—I think she tried to give me a clue. Right before I chose, I saw her quickly glance at John before he nodded at me. I thought I was just imagining things, but it worked.”
“John really saved us again,” I said, pressing my forehead against hers. “I don’t even want to imagine what would’ve happened if—”
“Don’t imagine,” she said, rubbing her nose against mine. “It didn’t happen. We’re together again.”
I held her tightly, terrified that letting go for even a second would make her slip away from me again. “Yujin, I was so scared to lose you.”
She smiled, but it wasn’t out of happiness. “You can never lose me,” she said, brushing my hair. “I’ll always be here next to you.”
For a fleeting moment, the audience didn’t exist. It was just us, two shipwrecked survivors clinging to each other in the eye of the storm.
But the silence didn’t last. The peace wasn’t real. It wasn’t an option. It never was.
As I held her, the relief washed over me in a hot, dizzying wave that wouldn’t stop. It kept rising, filling me up with a vengeful lust that I couldn’t control.
And I felt it in her, too.
Her skin was burning up against mine. She wasn’t just trembling from fear; she was vibrating. Her heart was hammering against my chest so hard it felt like it was trying to sync with the erratic rhythm of my own.
I pulled back just an inch to look at her. Her pupils were blown wide, swallowing the dark brown of her irises, and a flush was visibly creeping up her neck. Her lips were parted, breath coming in shallow pants that hit my skin in hot puffs.
“Yujin,” I breathed, my voice sounding like I’d been screaming for hours. “You’re burning up.”
She let out a shaky breath. “They gave me those pills. It’s been so long since I’ve had them. I feel weird, Wonbin. My skin feels hot. Everything is... so hot.”
“Me too,” I said, physically feeling the yellow pills rewiring my brain—all while Yuna’s pills still lingered like a vengeance.
Whatever sweetness was left in the moment began to rot. The concern I felt for her was mutating, twisting into a desperate, starving need that I couldn’t settle. The way she was looking at me—longingly, lovingly, with those big beautiful eyes that saw right past my soul—snapped the last bit of rational thought I had left.
My hands, which had been gently holding her waist, tightened on its own. I squeezed her flesh, feeling my fingers dig into the soft curve of her hips.
“Yujin,” I hissed through my teeth, the sensation of her body against mine sending what felt like actual electric shocks through me. “I feel so weird. I think I’m losing control.”
Yujin didn’t pull away. Instead, she moved closer, a soft moan escaping her throat that sounded nothing like the girl I knew.
“Touch me,” she whispered, her voice dropping to a desperate plea. “Touch me, please?”
“They’re watching.” I swallowed, but not resisting. “Everyone can see us.”
“Just do it.” She grabbed my wrists, forcing my hands harder against her body. “We have to give them a show anyways, don’t we?”
“I don’t want to,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t want them to win.”
“It’s okay.” She squeezed herself over my hands. “If it’s with you, I want to. I want to show them. I want them to see what it’s supposed to look like.”
“Yujin,” I breathed, her touch forcing the hair on my arms to stand. “I don’t know when it started, but I think I—”
“Me too,” she said in a hush.
“What?”
“You don’t have to say it,” she said softly, brushing my hair. “I already know.”
“Y-you do?”
She nodded, pressing her forehead against mine. “I’ve felt it for a long time now.”
It was like a switch had flipped without our consent. Somehow, we weren’t just two scared captives anymore; we were two magnets snapping together.
“I want you,” she said, nodding assuringly. “I really do. I want you right now more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
I didn’t need to hear any more.
With just those words, I crashed my mouth onto hers.
My tongue forced her lips apart, and she met me with equal force, her arms locking around my neck, pulling me closer until there was absolutely zero space left between us.
“Wonbin,” she gasped against my mouth, breaking the kiss just to bite my lower lip. “I need you. I feel like I'm going to explode.”
“My body is moving on its own,” I growled, my hands sliding down to cup her ass, squeezing the soft flesh. “I can’t control myself. Those stupid pills—they’re making me—”
“You don’t want me?” she whimpered, breathless. “It’s only because of the pills?”
“No—it’s not that—”
“I want you,” she said, lunging forward, grinding herself against me. “Even without those stupid drugs, I still want you. I can’t stop wanting you.”
The crowd, the cameras, the masks—they all dissolved into mindless static. The only thing that existed was the fire in my veins and the girl writhing in my arms, begging me to ruin her for everyone to see. And I was about to oblige.
“Yujin—I—”
“You’re so hard,” she said, gasping as she found me between our bodies, feeling every inch of my length. “I’ve never felt you this hard before…”
I hated that the yellow pill was doing its job terrifyingly well. My erection was borderline painful, a throbbing pressure that demanded more of everything—but mostly, her.
“That feels so good,” I moaned, my head falling back as she stroked me slowly.
My hands roamed all over her body, as if taking the time to remind itself of the familiar softness and shape before finally slipping in between her thighs.
She was completely drenched in a way I’d never felt before.
“Yujin—you’re so wet,” I whispered, feeling the wetness seeping into my fingers before I even touched her skin. “Oh my god.”
“So are you. You’re dripping pre-cum everywhere,” she said in between breaths, spreading it all over me. “You’re making a mess.”
“You’re flooding my fingers,” I said, breaking the kiss to bury my face into the side of her neck, trailing kisses down to her collarbone, tasting the salt on her skin, while slipping my fingers right into her.
“I’m going crazy,” she said, moaning loudly. “I want you so bad, Wonbin-ah. I want everyone to see how much I want you.”
“You’re so beautiful, Yujin,” I slurred, running my tongue all over her soft breasts. “Everything about you is so beautiful. I’m crazy about you.”
“I’m yours,” she said, weaving her fingers into my hair, tugging me closer. “All of me, it’s all yours. Just take it. Keep it.”
I couldn’t wait any longer. I dropped forward and pried her legs apart, pressing my face between her thighs to clean up the glistening ocean that coated her flesh, her taste making my new spin more than any drug ever could.
“Oh my god—” she shrieked, her legs bucking instantly the moment I sucked on her clit. The scream was torn from her throat, and her body shook violently against my face, her inner thighs clamping around my head like a vice.
She shuddered in my arms, her juices soaking my chin and lips. “Oh my god—this feeling—I forgot how it felt until now…”
But I didn’t stop. Whatever was in my system wouldn’t let me. Was it really even the pills causing me to follow its orders? Or did they just unlock something buried deep inside me? It was like my own desire was a runaway train, fueled by the taste of her release.
I kept going, my tongue working relentlessly against her folds, cleaning up the waves of her orgasm. At the same time, I slid two fingers deep inside her, curling it upwards as I continued licking her clit in circles.
“Wonbin, wait—hold on—ah!” she gasped, but her hands told a different story.
She grabbed her own tits, squeezing them roughly. It wasn’t a gentle caress—it was frantic, almost self-punishing.
“More,” she sobbed. “Keep going—it feels so good—oh god—I’m gonna come again—”
She continued grinding her pelvis against my face, chasing the rising lust between us while her hips kept snapping in a chaotic rhythm.
“Fuck—don’t stop—aaah!” she cried.
Before she could catch her breath, I grabbed her hips and flipped her over.
She landed on her hands and knees, presenting herself both to me and the silent, hungry audience beyond the lights. The view was devastating. Her entrance was completely soaked and glistening, still twitching in the aftermath of her orgasm.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I buried my face between her cheeks, my tongue diving straight for her other hole.
“Oh, fuck!” she screamed, her back arching so hard her I was afraid her spine would pop.
I licked her from behind with a desperate hunger, tasting every inch of her holes. Her scent was more intoxicating than I remembered, sending me into a euphoric high that no drug could ever emulate.
Yujin reached down between her legs, rubbing herself furiously, her hand moving in a blur as she ground against my face, her moans turning into a continuous, high-pitched yelp that filled the room.
“Wonbin-ah,” she wailed, her head thrashing side to side as my tongue swirled her holes without mercy. “Please. I need it. I need you inside me right now.”
I pulled back, breathless, my face completely wet with her juices. “Say it. Tell them what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me,” she begged louder, looking back at me over her shoulder, her eyes wild and wide. “Please, just fuck me! Put it in! Right now!”
I didn’t even bother wiping my chin. I grabbed her hips and lined my cock against her dripping entrance. “I’m going to fuck your brains out, Yujin,” I growled, more to myself than to her. “In front of everyone.”
“Do it! Hurry!” she screamed. “Please—I want you to ruin me—ugh—”
I thrust forward, burying myself all the way inside her.
“Fuuuck!”
The sound was ripped from both our throats simultaneously.
It wasn’t our first time, and yet it somehow felt like it was. It was like everything in the world stopped and started making sense simultaneously.
“You feel so fucking good,” I groaned, gritting my teeth as I began thrusting into her. “You’re mine. All mine.”
“Harder!” she screamed, pushing back against me, meeting my movements with frantic desperation. “Please, show everyone that I belong to you! All of me!”
I fucked her roughly, driving into her with everything I had. It was like every thrust was a desperate attempt to erase the memory of any other Jack who might have touched her in the past—to burn myself into her very soul.
“I’m so crazy about you,” I cried, the confession tearing out of me as I slammed into her over and over. “I can’t live without you.”
“Me too,” she moaned, her head thrown back, hair sticking to her sweaty face. “I only want you. You can do whatever you want to me, whenever you want. If it’s you, I don’t care about anything.”
We were delirious, yelling obscenities and confessions in the same breath, our voices cracking, stripping away every secret we’d ever kept in our hearts.
I drove into her so hard that her arms finally gave out. She collapsed onto her stomach, but I didn’t stop. I followed her down, covering her body with mine, still buried deep inside her hole that was now leaking to the floor as I grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her face into the mat and kept fucking her from above.
“Use my pussy,” she sobbed into the floor, her voice muffled but frantic. “Please. It’s all yours. It was made for you. Only for you.”
That broke me.
My body abandoned all rhythm, just pounding into her with an animalistic need that shouldn’t have existed inside me. She arched her back, screaming my name, her walls convulsing around my cock in a crushing grip.
“I’m coming!” she shrieked. “Wonbin, I’m coming again!” She shook violently beneath me, clamping down on me so hard I saw stars.
I pulled out just as the waves of her orgasm began to subside, leaving her gasping for air. But she didn’t rest. She scrambled around, crawling over to where I knelt. Her eyes were wild, fixated on my cock that was glistening with her juices and twitching with its own desperate need.
“I want to taste myself on your cock,” she whispered, licking her lips.
She didn’t wait for permission. She leaned forward and took me into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the head, tasting the mix of her own wetness and my pre-cum.
“I love it when you taste like me… it feels so right,” she moaned, licking me up and down my shaft. “Don’t you think so?”
“Fuck,” I hissed as she bobbed her head, taking my entire length down her throat. “It feels so good…”
For the first time ever, she gagged slightly, but she didn’t stop. She sucked me harder, her hand working the base, her eyes locked on mine in a way that felt so foreign.
“Yujin, wait, stop,” I gasped, grabbing her hair to pull her off. “I’m gonna—”
Before I could catch my breath, she climbed over me, straddling my hips. She lined me up with a desperate, shaky hand and sank down, impaling herself on me.
“Don’t come yet,” she moaned, throwing her head back as she began to ride me roughly. “Keep fucking me, okay? Fuck me forever like this, please?”
She bounced on me with a violence that shook my entire frame, her hands planted on my chest, nails digging into my skin while her eyes flicked towards the darkness beyond the stage lights.
“Sunbae,” she moaned out to the shadows. “Are you watching me? I learned everything from you. I’ll make our House proud.”
“You don’t have a House anymore, Yujin,” I gritted out, gripping her waist tightly to try and steady her erratic rhythm. “You’re not an Ace.”
“I am!” she cried, slamming her hips down harder, forcing a ragged groan from my throat. “This is who I really am, Wonbin. I belong here!”
She collapsed forward and crashed her mouth onto mine, our tongues fighting a battle of their own, tasting of sweat, lust, and desperation.
“No, Yujin—you don’t—” I gasped against her lips. “You’re not—”
“I am!” she snarled, suddenly pulling back. Her hands flew to my throat, wrapping around my neck. “And don’t you dare call me by my name, Jack.”
I stared up at her, my heart hammering against my ribs.
This wasn’t Yujin. Not the one that I knew.
“That rule doesn’t exist in Clubs, Yujin,” I choked out, prying at her fingers. “You’re confused. Look at me. I’m not really a Jack, and you’re not really an Ace.”
“I am!” she cried, eyes fluttering. “Fuck—you’re so deep! Fuck me properly, Jack. Do your fucking job. It’s all you’re good for!”
“Yujin, no—stop—”
Her hand suddenly flew across my face for the first time ever. “I said to not—”
And then her grip faltered, confusion flickering in her eyes like a spell had just been lifted. “W-Wonbin? Is that you?”
“Yes,” I said, holding her close as her chest heaved against mine. “It’s me. Are you okay?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry… I’m going crazy… You’re fucking me into insanity.”
“It’s not me,” I said, still pumping into her pussy that was now gushing. “It’s the drugs.”
She hooked her arms around my neck, pulling my face down to her tits. “No. It’s you. You make me so crazy. I’m so crazy about you. I can’t stop wishing you were mine. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said, sucking on her nipples roughly. “I forgive you. No matter what you do, I’ll always forgive you, Yujin. I’m so happy I met you.”
“Wonbin, can you fuck me like I’m an Ace… please?” she begged, the aggression dissolving into pathetic need. “Make me remember how it feels just for tonight.”
I couldn’t understand why those words had any power, but for some reason, something awakened inside me, like a mark of a curse—one I wasn’t even sure came from the pills.
“You want to be fucked like an Ace? Fine.” I grabbed her wrists and twisted her arms behind her back, locking them there with one hand, and slammed my hips upward into her, hard.“But you chose Spades. Don’t forget that.”
Her head fell back, a gasp tearing from her throat. “Oh god—yes—I’m a Spade. That’s right. I’m a bad girl, and bad girls deserve to be punished. Make me your slave.”
We fell to the side, and I lifted her top leg high, hooking it over my shoulder, and began thrusting into her sideways.
“Fuck me, Wonbin,” she begged, her voice a broken whimper as she rubbed circles around her clit. “I’m your slave, use me in front of everyone. Let them watch everything.”
“You love being watched, don’t you?” I drove deeper into her, feeling every inch of her walls clenching against my length. “This is who you wished you were.”
“Yes,” she moaned, eyes fluttering. “This is who I really am.”
“You belong to me.” I growled. “They can only see because I’m letting them.”
“Yes! Please show them who I belong to! Show them who I am!”
We rolled again until I was hovering over her, pinning her to the mat. I spread her legs wide open, exposing everything to the blinding lights above.
“You’re my slave, Yujin,” I said, looking down at her flushed, ruined face. “Your body belongs to me. Not to them. Me.”
“Yes, it’s all yours,” she sobbed, reaching up to claw at my shoulders. “Use me until you come over and over again inside my pussy. That’s all I’m good for.”
I drove into her, every thrust feeling like a battle—a war to reclaim ourselves from this hell. Her tongue twirled around mine like it was their last dance together, and her chest pressed hard against mine, sweat and saliva mixed together in a veil of desire.
“Wonbin-ah! You’re fucking me so hard, it feels so good—” she screamed, her voice echoing too loudly in the cavernous room.
“You’re too loud,” I panted, panic spiking through the haze. “Wonyoung will—”
“I’m so sorry, Wonyoung,” she whimpered, her voice cracking into tiny pieces. She looked up at the ceiling, as if apologizing for her sins. “I’m so sorry that I’m stealing Wonbin from you. Unnie is so selfish, isn’t she? Will you forgive me, Wonyoung-ah?”
Her words sent chills through my spine, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Whatever controlled our bodies and minds drove us both deeper into the abyss.
Wonyoung.
Please don’t listen. Please don’t watch. Please don’t be out there.
This isn’t us.
Yujin and I aren’t in these bodies. They don’t belong to us anymore.
For the first time in my life, Wonyoung’s face was constantly being pushed out of my mind with every thrust, every tug and pull of Yujin’s pussy against every inch of my cock.
“I’m sorry, Wonyoung-ah,” Yujin sobbed while her hips jerked upwards to meet mine, betraying every single word she said. “I’m so sorry... Unnie is so bad... I love his cock too much... I can’t give it back...”
“Are you really sorry?” I gritted out, slamming into her while hating the way my body betrayed my heart. “You’re apologizing to her while you beg for my cock? You’re the one who started all of this that night!”
“No!” she cried, her nails digging into my shoulders as she arched into the thrust. “It wasn’t me… she asked me to do it…”
The words hit me, but I couldn’t stop. I just fucked her harder, as if that was all I was capable of anymore. “What? What do you mean?”
“That night… at the hotel…” Yujin wailed, thrashing beneath me, her eyes rolling back as I hit her spot with the tip of my cock. “Wonyoung asked me to do it as a favor. She asked me to come onto you. ”
“What do you mean? I was there. She didn’t—”
She shook her head, her eyes no longer able to stay open. “She texted me when she left to get Rei’s drinks…”
“W-what? Why? Why would she do that?”
“Because she wanted an excuse,” Yujin sobbed, grinding her hips up desperately. “She needed a reason to make you her slave to keep you by her side without breaking any rules. She thought if I seduced you, she could pretend to catch you and then punish you… then she could own you if you agreed. She gambled that you would.”
The revelation washed over me like a tsunami—not as betrayal, but as a crushing wave of sadness. A sadness so deep and endless that it felt like I was sinking to the bottom of an ocean.
That night. The guilt, the punishment of becoming her slave—was it not out of jealousy or control? Had Wonyoung really manipulated the entire situation just to keep me near her because she couldn’t figure out how else to love me?
“Did she really do all of that?” I whispered, the realization making my chest ache.
“She missed you so much,” Yujin cried, clamping her legs around my back. “I knew about you long before we ever met. She told me about you so many times when we were trainees. How her world fell apart when you left. How she was too scared to reach out to you after what happened. How she kept waiting for you to come back like you’d promised.”
“…What the hell are you talking about, Yujin? How did I not know any of this? Why didn’t she just tell me?”
“Wonyoung’s not the type of person to share her burden with anyone else. She’ll hold it in, no matter how much it breaks her. There were so many nights where she cried on my shoulders because she felt so guilty for what she was doing to you. I’m sorry, Wonbin—I kept it a secret from you too. I knew everything. When you came on our bus that day, I already knew who you were. She told me after the fansigning, how all her prayers came true, how she’d never been so happy in her life. But then she cried when she realized what it meant. She’s cried so many tears for you, so please don’t be mad at her… please don’t hate her…”
“How could I hate her?” I choked out, tears streaming down my face like a waterfall. “How could I ever do that?”
In that moment, all I knew was that I missed her. All I could think about was how much I missed her. I missed Wonyoung so much it felt like dying.
“She even asked me to keep you company whenever she was away. I promised that I would be there for you.” Yujin grabbed my face, pulling me down to kiss me messily, desperate to comfort me even as she used my body. “But I ruined it! I was just supposed just be a distraction, but I broke my promise! I’m addicted to you now, Wonbin! I can’t help it—”
It was like my throat could no longer form words properly. “This was all Wonyoung’s doing? Everything?”
“At first, yes,” Yujin cried, wrapping her legs tighter around my waist. “But now I can’t stop! I betrayed her! Punish me for betraying her, Wonbin! Fuck me harder because I’m a bad unnie!”
“This isn’t your fault, Yujin,” I growled, tears stinging my own eyes as I thrust.
“No! It is my fault! It’s all my fault! I ruined everything for her!” she screamed, scratching down my chest. “Punish me! I’m a bad girl!”
My body no longer cared for anything that my mind wanted. Just the thought of Wonyoung watching from the shadows, her plan spiraling into this drug-fueled wreckage—made it drive into Yujin with a violence that was born of pure grief.
“I love it! I love how it feels inside me! I’m sorry, Wonyoung, please forgive me for taking him! I can’t ever return him to you, I’ll die! I’ll die without his cock!”
The sound of her begging for forgiveness lit a fire in my brain that no longer listened to me. Suddenly, the image of the masked men, the Kings, the other faceless Jacks who had been on this stage before me... it all came rushing back.
I grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks to force her glazed eyes to lock onto mine.
“Apologize to me, too,” I snarled, my voice dripping with foreign possessiveness as my fingers gripped her throat firmly. “Apologize for letting the King of Clubs touch you. Apologize for fucking the other Jacks.”
“I’m so sorry!” she wailed, tears streaming down her temples and into her hair. “I’m sorry I let them fuck me!”
“Tell me who this belongs to!” I demanded, thrusting deep and holding it there.
“You! Only you!” She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me down until our chests were fused together. “I promise, Wonbin. I promise! Only you will fuck me from now on. Until forever. No one else.”
It was a vow made in hell. Was it romantic and carnal? Was it sealed with love or shame?
“Say it again,” I gasped, my control shattering into a million pieces.
“Only you,” she whispered, kissing me frantically. “I’m yours forever.”
And that was the breaking point.
There was a ringing in my ears as I poured myself into her, pulse after pulse, emptying everything I had—my fear, my anger, my love—straight into her. She screamed with me, shaking in a prolonged, aftershock that seemed to go on for eternity.
I’m sorry, Wonyoung, I thought, my mind fracturing as the pleasure drowned out the shame. I know why you did it. I’m so sorry. I hope you’ll understand us, too.
I collapsed backward, pulling out of her with a wet slide, and landed heavily on the padded mat. My chest heaved, my vision swimming with black spots.
But Yujin wasn’t done.
Before I could even close my eyes, she was moving. She crawled over me, her hair messily draped over her sweaty face, her eyes still blown wide with that terrifying, drug-induced hunger.
“No, don’t pass out,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Not yet.”
She lowered her head and took my softening cock into her mouth.
“Yujin—stop—” I cried, but I couldn’t even lift my arms to push her away.
She didn’t listen. She sucked with a monstrous intensity, her tongue working to push life back into me, drinking down the remnants of my soul. The sensation was overwhelming, but I was completely paralyzed by exhaustion.
The world started to shatter. The bright stage lights blurred into streaks of white. The last thing I felt was the wet, hot suction of her mouth and the desperate grip of her hand on my thigh, anchoring me to her even as I slipped away.
Then, the darkness finally took me. And I prayed that it would never let go.
--
“Wonyoung?”
My voice cracked, small and pathetic against the steady rhythm of the rain. I walked through the narrow, winding alley—the shortcut we had taken a thousand times together. It was our secret path, the one between the old bakery and the laundromat, where the smell of fabric softener usually mixed with the scent of yeast.
But that day, it just smelled like wet concrete and dust.
The rain didn’t just fall, it clung to everything. It covered the uneven pavement, creating little puddles that danced under the rusted overhangs of the closed shops. The grey sky felt low, like it was pressing down on the city, trying to squeeze the last bit of life out of it.
“Wonyoung? Are you here?” I asked again, my eyes darting frantically behind the stacked crates, behind the vending machine, even checking the dark corners where she liked to hide when she wanted to scare me.
Silence. Just the rain.
It was the last hour of my last day in Seoul. My suitcases were lined up by the door, and my dad was checking his watch every two minutes, pacing the living room, waiting for the airport bus.
And Wonyoung was nowhere to be found.
I’d begged my parents for just twenty more minutes. Just one last lap, I’d told them. I just need to find something I lost. Something really important to me.
“Wonyoung-ah!” I shouted, louder this time.
I waited for her to pop out, to laugh, to call me stupid, to ask why I was making such a big deal. I waited for something—for anything.
But the only response was the faint swish of a tail from atop a stack of discarded cardboard boxes.
“Meeko?” I called out.
Meeko was the neighborhood stray, a scruffy, orange-and-black tabby that usually hissed at anyone who wasn’t Wonyoung.
I crouched down, ignoring the way the damp cold seeped instantly through the knees of my jeans, and tilted my umbrella, creating a small, dry shelter between us.
“Meeko,” I whispered. “Come here.”
He blinked at me with bored, yellow eyes, not moving at first. Instead, he just stared, as if judging me for having the audacity to be there without her.
But then, perhaps sensing the pathetic desperation radiating off me, he slowly uncurled. He hopped down, his paws making wet prints on the pavement as he approached me.
“I’m leaving soon, Meeko,” I reached a hand out, and surprisingly, he bumped his wet nose against my knuckles. “I’ll never see you again.”
He turned and rubbed his cheek against my fingers, purring loudly.
“Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t eat trash anymore. Wait for Wonyoung to bring you the good sausages.”
He meowed—a short, almost sad sound, as if he understood me. Or at least, somehow caught a small glimpse how I felt.
I let out a wet laugh. “I know, I know. You won’t miss me. You only tolerated me because I was always there while she fed you,” I said, scratching behind his ears, blinking back the heat in my eyes. “That’s okay. I won’t miss you either.”
It was a lie. I was going to miss the cat. I was going to miss the alley. I was going to miss the smell of the rain on this street.
“Have you seen Wonyoung?” I asked him, my voice breaking on her name. “I’ve been looking for her everywhere. The playground is empty. The stationery store is closed. She’s not answering her phone.”
Meeko just stared at me, blinking slowly against the drizzle.
“I just want to say goodbye,” I choked out, the tears finally slipping out, mixing with the rain on my cheeks. “I can’t leave without saying goodbye. I just want her to know I didn’t want to go. Do you think she hates me?”
I looked at the empty alley one last time, hoping—praying—that I’d see her familiar silhouette running toward me. But there was nothing. Just the grey, endless rain.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. My mom. Time was up.
I looked back down at the cat.
“Well,” I wiped my nose with my sleeve, sniffing loudly. “If I can’t find her… will you send her my regards?”
Meeko tilted his head.
“Can you tell her that I’ll miss her?” I breathed, feeling my heart shatter in my chest. “Tell her I’m sorry, Meeko. And tell her—t-tell her t-that I promise I’ll come back to find her one day.”
I stood up, and left the umbrella there, propped up against the boxes so he would have a dry spot to wait for her.
“Don’t let her forget me, okay?”
I turned around and walked away, leaving the only friend I could find in the rain—hoping the message would somehow reach the one who didn’t want to be found.
--
When I finally opened my eyes, the world was detached from itself, melting and reforming like oil on water. Reality wasn’t a stream anymore—it was a fever dream that refused to break.
To my left, Arin bathed in the light with a long black whip coiling around her arm. Three grown men in business suits crawled at her feet, leashed and whimpering, scrambling over each other just to kiss the tips of her toes. She didn’t even look down, her expression was rather bored, like a trainer ignoring her dogs.
The scene smeared sideways, bleeding into a pool of soft, golden light where Hanni sat on a velvet chair in the center of the Hearts quadrant.
She looked small—fragile even—as three tall, lanky European men swarmed her, treating her body like a treasure, their hands moving with a possessive, carnal worship.
“That’s it,” Hanni giggled as one man buried his face between her thighs. “Love me more. Show me how much you love me.”
She ran her fingers through his hair, urging him deeper while the other two men devoured her neck and chest. It was a dizzying display of lustful gluttony—but she was clearly loving every second of it. She was euphoric, high on the power of having three powerful men reduced to starving animals at her feet.
“Princess,” one whispered against her skin, worshipping her collarbone. “You’re incredible.”
“I know,” she moaned, wrapping her legs around the man kneeling before her. “I’m your princess, right? Your dirty little princess.”
She grabbed the face of the man on her left and pulled him into a messy, open-mouthed kiss, sharing the saliva from her mouth while her hips ground relentlessly against the face of the man between her legs. It looked terrifyingly natural, like this wasn’t her first or even tenth time.
“Kiss me,” she commanded the third man, reaching out blindly with her free hand to wrap around his cock. “Let me feel how hard you are for me.”
“Yes, baby,” he groaned, leaning in to lick the side of her neck as she jerked him off. “We are all yours.”
My vision slowly faded to white.
Hanni was now on her knees, her small body sandwiched between the men. One stood behind her, driving into her with a brutal force that made her head snap back with every thrust.
“Oh god—yes! Just like that!” she screamed, her eyes rolling back. “Don’t stop! Please—keep fucking me like that!”
The third man was on his knees in front of her with his mouth latched onto her nipple, his hands kneading her breasts roughly as he sucked her fervently.
“Take it all, babygirl,” the man behind her growled, slapping her ass. “Take every inch like a good girl.”
She gagged on the cock in her mouth but didn’t pull away. Instead, her hands reaching back to claw at the man fucking her, pulling him in deeper.
Then, the lights flared too bright, washing her out in a blinding wave of white. The sound of her pleasure stretched and distorted, and nausea rolled in my gut as the floor seemed to drop out from under me.
The darkness rushed back in, swallowing Hanni, Arin, the men, and the stage.
I fell into the void again, weightless and empty.
--
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the third bidding of the third round! Please, please, take your seats and make yourselves comfortable!”
The Dealer’s voice vibrated through the speakers, forcing my eyes open while the cold mat pressed against my cheek.
The stage had cleared; the silhouettes of Hanni and Arin were gone, replaced by a new, singular spotlight that carved a harsh circle in the darkness. The screen flickered, the white heart and diamond dissolving into a single white club.
“Our next Ace needs no introduction, as this will be her fifth Blackjack Auction,” the Dealer announced. “Her history runs deep. Yes, very deep indeed… You see, before she found her home in the House of Clubs, she was a legend in the House of Spades—”
“Oh I love this slut!” someone yelled from the crowd.
“Easily one of the best Aces in history! She takes cock like she was born for it!”
“Back off, this bitch is mine!”
The Dealer chuckled, ignoring the interruptions. “But then came the historic trade… and the House of Clubs gained a sex goddess, while the House of Spades… well, they moved on to new toys.” He stopped center stage, his smile widening beneath the mask. “Folks, please welcome… the White Ace of Clubs… Miyeon of (G)I-DLE!”
The room cheered with the kind of excitement that sounded more like a reunion than a reveal as Miyeon stepped into the light, her white collar shining brightly under the harsh beams, causing her skin to almost glow. The shadow of her silouhette printed on the floor like a stamp, showing off every line and curve of her slender body.
The Dealer tilted the microphone toward her lips as she stood perfectly still with her hands clasped behind her back.
“My dear,” he purred. “You’ve been enjoying the freedom of the House of Clubs for quite some time now. But tell me… do you ever miss your roots?”
“I…” Miyeon swallowed hard, as if debating if she wanted to admit it. “I do.”
He moved the mic closer to her. “Speak up, darling. What exactly do you miss?”
She lifted her head, her eyes seemingly scanning the crowd but seeing nothing through the white blindfold. “I miss… being controlled.”
The crowd erupted again, a wave of approval washing over the stage like it was ready to swallow it.
“She wants it!”
“You know what they say! Once a Spade, always a Spade!”
“Break her again and again so she never forgets!”
The Dealer smiled, satisfied. “And what is it that you want tonight, Miyeon? To show off your newfound skills again? Or do you want… something else?”
Miyeon’s knees pressed together slightly as a flush crept up her neck.
“Both. I want to give the crowd the performance of a lifetime, but I… also want to be punished,” she whispered, the words tumbling out like a confession she couldn’t hold back. “My body… I don’t want it to belong to me tonight. I want to be forced to serve someone again.”
The Dealer threw his arms wide, basking in the animalistic frenzy of the room. “You heard her, folks! An Ace of Clubs begging to be ruined! There have been no words more honest ever said on stage than these! So, who among you has the discipline to put her back in her place?!”
“Ten!” someone screamed instantly. “We’re bidding all tens!”
“Fuck that, pull out your Jokers! We’re not playing around anymore!”
“We’ll give her exactly what she’s missing!”
The bidding screen lit up, numbers flying faster than I could track.
“Oh my! It would seem we have our first Sudden Death of the night!” the Dealer gasped, staring up at the screen. “Now, I know what you’re all thinking. We saw Jokers fly during An Yujin’s round earlier, yes.” He pointed at the scoreboard, where Team 5 and Team 7 were flashing in sync. “But this? This is different. This is a true stalemate. One Joker against one Joker. A perfect tie.”
He spread his hands wide. “And in the event of a tie, the cards cancel each other out. Those Jokers are burned—gone forever—and we have no victor. Which means we have to do this the hard way.”
He snapped his fingers, and the screen locked out every other team. “Teams 5 and 7, you are now the only ones left in the arena. To break this deadlock, you must bid again. Highest point total takes the Ace and the loser walks away with nothing but a wasted Joker…”
He grinned. “Thirty seconds… fight!”
Miyeon’s fingers wrestled each other behind her back as her thighs squeezed and rubbed together, as if the anticipation was killing her more than the crowd’s restlessness. In those thirty seconds, some tables left out of frustration for having lost the round, while others sat back and watched the Sudden Death like a sports game.
And as the timer slowly dropped to zero, my haze in my head grew stronger, until my vision was all but a blur of lights and lines.
“So this is great Miyeon,” a man with silvering hair said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “She’s a lot smaller than she looks on camera.”
Miyeon gasped, her head falling back as she shivered under his touch.
“She certainly seems eager to please,” the second King noted, stepping up behind her. He reached out and brushed the back of his hand down her cheek, then lower, tracing the line of her neck.
“She loves the attention,” the third King chuckled, taking his jacket off. “Don’t you, honey? You like having all these eyes on you.”
“Yes… ah… yes, Master…” Miyeon whimpered, leaning into their touch.
“Look at me when you speak,” he ordered without raising his voice.
She snapped her head up, her blindfolded face flushed with excitement.
The fourth King reached out, running a hand down the front of her white collar, tugging on it lightly. “You said you wanted to be forced?” he said, as his other hand tracing the curve of her breasts before kneading her flesh possessively. “That’s a dangerous thing to ask for, sweetheart.”
“I-I don’t want to be a person tonight,” Miyeon whispered, her voice trembling but filled with a dirty, desperate need. “I just want… I want you to use me. Don’t ask me for permission for anything.”
The second King stepped up, chuckling dryly as he took off his watch. “You sure about that? We don’t exactly play nice.”
“I’m sure,” she breathed, parting her legs slightly even though no one had touched her there yet. “Please. Break me until I fold.”
“A little too desperate for my taste,” the first King said, sounding almost bored as he ran a thumb over her collarbone, causing her to slowly drop to her knees in submission. “This is just messy—whatever this is.”
A voice suddenly cut through the air—calm, melodic, yet dripping with disappointment. “Is this truly how you wish to represent the House of Clubs, Cho Miyeon?”
IU stepped into the light from her throne in the back of the stage, radiating an elegant aura of a soft, feminine authority.
IU stopped a few feet away, looking down at Miyeon with a sigh as she crossed her arms—not in anger, but in pity.
“Stand up, Miyeon-ah. You are the White Ace of Clubs. Do not fall to the floor because a man gave you a little attention. It’s unbecoming. Have some dignity.”
She reached out a hand, intending to signal Miyeon to rise, but the first King stepped into her path.
IU froze, her hand hovering in the air. “Can I help you?”
The King smiled beneath his mask. “We didn’t play a Queen card so you could give her a lecture.”
She smirked, but she clearly did not find it amusing in the slightest. “You must be mistaken. Queens are face cards, not Aces,” she said, putting her hand down. “I am not on the menu.”
“What a pity,” the second King said, stepping closer. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re telling me that such a scrumptious meal cannot be ordered?”
She flinched, pulling back sharply. “Do not ever touch me.”
“Why not?” the third King asked, trapping her between them. “You’re a woman, aren’t you? A very beautiful one, at that. I’ve watched your movies. Broker, Dream… you always play the sweet, tough girl. I’ve always wondered if that’s just an act.”
“I am the Queen of Clubs,” she said, firmly. “I suggest you show some respect if you want this show to continue.”
“Oh, but we are showing respect,” the first King said, his hand sliding boldly around her waist, pulling her flush against his suit. “Won’t you play nice… pretty please?”
IU gasped, her eyes widening out of anger. “Let go of me,” she warned, as she tried to pull away.
But he held firm, merely smiling at her resistance.
“Will you reject us in front of your Ace?” the fourth King leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Is that the lesson you want to teach her? That defiance is an option? That the House of Clubs doesn’t honor its Kings?”
And then, from the floor, Miyeon spoke up. “No…” she said, her voice trembling as she reached out, her fingers brushing the hem of IU’s long dress. “Don’t get involved, sunbae-nim. You’re not an Ace anymore. This life is already behind you.”
IU looked down, lips parting in an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“It should only be me,” Miyeon continued, tilting her head back. “I’m the bad girl, sunbae… I’m ruining our House… the House that welcomed me with open arms and treated me so well. The House that taught me so much and gave me everything. I’m such a bad girl… and… bad girls… deserve to be punished…”
IU blinked, her composure wavering. “What’s gotten into you? Don’t recite those words. You’re a Club, now. There are no bad girls in our House—”
“No.” Miyeon shook her head, her voice filled with a twisted mix of shame and arousal. “I’ll always be a Spade…”
“Why?” IU whispered, as if those words struck her harder than anything the men could say. “Even after all these years?”
“Yes,” Miyeon cried softly. “I’m so sorry, sunbae. It’s who I am. I can’t be like you.”
The first King chuckled, running his hand up IU’s back. “Join her, sweetheart. Join your Ace in her journey of shame. I know you like this, deep down inside of your little perfect body. The fact that we don’t care about your crown.”
IU looked at the King, then down at Miyeon, and I could see the fight slowly leave her eyes.
“We’ll make a Spade out of you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck while he slipped a few tablets into her mouth.
She swallowed willingly. “How dare you,” she shuddered, her eyes fluttering shut.
“On your knees now,” another King ordered.
For a second, I thought she would slap him, but instead, she slowly sank to the floor next to Miyeon, eyes locked onto his like she was being hypnotized. The mere sight broke my brain beyond repair.
He grinned devilishly. “Good girl. This is who you really are.”
It wasn’t long before the four of them had already undone their belts and had their pants spilled around their legs. Miyeon’s hand had already started moving between her thighs as her eyes widened at the sight, while IU’s face remained composed, her crown still sitting proudly on her head.
“Well?” one of them asked, looking down at IU. “We don’t have all night, Your Majesty.”
She simply stared at him as the reality of what she had agreed to seemed to crash down on her. “You’re disgusting.”
Next to her, the second King stepped up to Miyeon and grabbed a handful of her hair. “You said you wanted to be forced, didn’t you?” he growled, yanking her head back, exposing more of her throat under the collar. “So don’t even look at me. Just open your mouth.”
Miyeon whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut. “Y-yes, Mast—”
He didn’t wait for her to open fully—he shoved his cock against her lips, forcing them apart, and thrust his hips forward.
“Agh!” she choked, her hands flying up to grab his thighs as he filled her mouth.
Her wetness seeped into his pants from her fingers as he held her head in place and started pumping into her face.
“Damn, that’s a soft tongue you’ve got,” he groaned.
“See that?” the first King sneered, nudging IU’s cheek with his the tip of his cock. “Your Ace is getting exactly what she asked for. Are you going to join her, or do I have to make you?”
IU flinched at the touch. The sound of Miyeon gagging next to her was horrific—a wet, suffocating noise that stripped away any glamour that remained on stage, but it made her lean forward reluctantly, opening her mouth and squeezing her eyes shut as if taking bitter medicine.
“Finally,” the King grunted, grabbing the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, pulling her head down into him.
IU gagged, her eyes flying open in shock as he hit the back of her throat.
“Do it properly,” he ordered, pumping into her face roughly. “I know you know what you’re doing. You’re a Queen, for fuck’s sake.”
“Mmph!” IU tried to pull back, but he held her firm, using her mouth like a sleeve.
“Let’s see if they’re ready for the real show,” the third King muttered as he reached down to Miyeon, slipped his hand between her thighs.
He shoved two fingers inside her wetness, pumping them in time with the cock in her mouth. “Fuck,” he laughed. “She’s soaking wet. She’s practically dripping onto the floor.”
Miyeon moaned loudly, her voice muffled around the shaft, but her hips bucked involuntarily against his hand.
The fourth King stepped up to IU, placing a large hand over her crotch, rubbing her firmly through the layers of her expensive dress and lace panties. She jolted—letting out a high-pitched squeak against the first King’s cock.
“Take your clothes off,” he ordered.
IU pulled off his cock for a split second, gasping for air. She looked up at him, her face now flushed, eyes growing hazy as the pills slowly did their jobs.
With a shaking hand, she reached up and grabbed the neckline of her dress and yanked the top down, peeling the fabric off her shoulders and chest, along with her bra, until they both pooled at her waist, leaving her upper body completely exposed. Then, she grabbed the hem of the dress and scrunched it up, bunching the silk around her hips until her legs were bare.
“Good,” the King grinned, admiring her exposed form right before shoving himself back into her mouth. “Now you look like you belong here.”
The third King somehow slid underneath Miyeon, prying her legs further apart to bury his face directly into her pussy.
“Ahh—wait!” she screamed, her head thrown back as his tongue brushed her dripping folds.
Miyeon arched her back hard, legs shaking wildly as she was caught between the mouth on her pussy and the cock in her throat, dissolving into a whimpering mess of carnal pleasure.
“Your turn, Your Highness,” the fourth King murmured.
He grabbed IU by the waist and hauled her up onto her knees, shoving her face back onto the second King’s cock, right before kneeling behind her, burying his face between her cheeks. The second king reached for her crown and threw it onto the floor, the clank vibrated through the stage as her title was snatched right from her head.
“Wai—” IU tried to protest—but her mouth was filled instantly.
He didn’t listen. Nobody did.
He sucked on her loudly, gripping her ass to spread it apart while the other slammed himself into her throat, letting saliva spill out with every thrust. To the side, Miyeon’s screams grew louder as the man slurped her from below while her hips moved on their own, her hand desperately stroking a cock as if it was the only thing keeping her balanced.
The stage became a blur of motion, and the longer I watched, the dizzier I got.
They rotated positions seamlessly, passing the women between them like party favors. One moment IU was facefucking the first King until tears leaked from her eyes, the next she was on her back with the third King’s fingers curling deep inside her, legs shaking violently. At one point, she was heaving on the floor in front of him, while the other three took turns having their way with Miyeon in the air, two of them holding her body afloat while the other fucked her relentlessly before rotating positions.
And then somehow, the scene shifted again.
The Kings pulled back for a breath, leaving the two of them on their hands and knees in the center of the spotlight, facing each other. Their cheeks were completely flushed, lips swollen and slick with saliva.
“Kiss,” the first King ordered. “Show us the bond of Clubs.”
They leaned in and obeyed without a second thought. It was messy and desperate, a sinful exchange of a collection of spit and juices shared by the six of them. Their tongues tangled, saliva stringing between them as they seemingly sought comfort in the shared degradation.
“Sunbae,” Miyeon moaned, saliva dripping out the sides of her lips. “It feels so good. My pussy feels so good.”
“You’re doing so good,” IU said, kissing her frantically. “I’m so proud of you, Miyeon-ah.”
“I miss this feeling so much, sunbae. Don’t you? Don’t you miss being a Spade?”
Two Kings stepped up to their sides, shoving their cocks into the their mouths mid-kiss, breaking them apart only to fill them up again, over and over.
“Flip them,” the first King ordered.
They grabbed them and threw them onto their backs, spread theirs legs wide. Two settled between their legs, burying their faces in their crotches, sucking and licking with a hunger that sent chills down my spine.
The other two men climbed over their chests, straddling their faces.
“Open up,” one of them ordered, dropping his balls onto her chin.
IU glared at him, breathless and disheveled. “I’m not a dog.”
“Then why is your tongue out?” he laughed, grinding his hips down.
She couldn’t help it. Her body betrayed her, forcing her to lick him, eventually running her tongue between his cheeks as he commanded, all while the man between her legs made her toes curl with his mouth and fingers.
“Stubborn bitch,” the King growled, enjoying the fight.
“Don’t—talk to me that way—I’m a Queen!”
“Stubborn bitch-Queen,” he corrected.
“Look at your Ace,” the other King pointed out. “She’s completely gone. A shell of a body.”
They were right. Miyeon was crying out in pure ecstasy, her hands tangling in the hair of the man whose tongue was buried deep inside her while her mouth worked furiously on the man above her, sucking and licking everything that came in contact with her face from above.
“Sunbae! Sunbae!” Miyeon cried, breaking her rhythm to gasp for air. “I can’t stop! I should fold but I don’t want it to end! I’m so disgraceful, aren’t I? The House of Clubs is filled with whores, aren’t we?”
“Don’t say that,” IU snapped, even as she shuddered from the tongue swirling around her clit. “This isn’t us. This isn’t what we are.”
“Bring out the cuffs,” the first King said, standing up and wiping himself off. “The Queen needs a little more persuasion.”
The scene kept blurring in and out, like a film reel skipping frames.
When my focus returned, both Miyeon and IU were on their sides, their wrists bound tightly behind their backs with the leather cuffs, looking like matching dolls.
Miyeon was screaming—a high, continuous wail of euphoria. Two Kings were inside her at once. One was behind her, thrusting into her ass with a brutal rhythm, while the other was in front of her, ravaging her dripping pussy.
“Oh god, you’re fucking me so hard,” she sobbed, her head thrashing against the mat as she was being stretched from both ends. “I’m going to be ruined by you. I’ll never be the same again.”
I blinked again and everything shifted once more.
The Kings had switched partners. IU was now the one crying in pleasure as two of them filled her holes simultaneously.
“Use me,” IU cried, her eyes widening, yet they were empty, as if the pills had completely taken over. “Punish me. I’m a pathetic excuse for a Queen—”
All I could see was a man’s hand reaching out, stuffing a pair of panties into her mouth to silence her. She moaned through the fabric, her cries muffling as they continued hammering into her like animals.
“Fuck, she’s so tight,” I heard a voice growl through the haze. “Even tighter than the Ace.”
“Break her more. Make her remember who she really is.”
My head spun. I couldn’t tell whose limb belonged to whom anymore. The sounds—the slaps, the moans, the slobbering of wetness—merged into a singular, deafening hum.
“Look at her go,” a King laughed, his voice sounding miles away. “The Queen loves it. Look at her face.”
“I’m… I’m not…” IU’s voice was weak, punctuated by sharp gasps. “I’m not… ahhh!”
“You are,” the voice growled back. “You’re taking two cocks like you were born for it. Tell me you love it.”
“No… I hate it…”
“Do you?” he mocked. “Fold then if you hate it so much, I dare you!”
Everything shifted again.
Through the haze, I saw them on top of each other, their bodies pressed flush, Miyeon’s porcelain skin against IU’s black silk dress. They were grinding their pussies together frantically, lips locked in a messy, open-mouthed kiss, tongues tangling as if they were trying to breathe for each other.
But they weren’t alone. Beneath IU, a King lay flat on the stage, his hips thrusting upward, driving deep into her other hole from below, and above Miyeon, another King hammered into her ass from behind.
“So fucking slutty,” the King above Miyeon roared, slapping her bouncing cheeks. “Taste your Queen’s spit while I destroy your tight little asshole!”
“Mmph!” Miyeon wailed into IU’s mouth, her fingers digging into her shoulders.
IU gasped, breaking the kiss to sob into Miyeon’s neck. “Miyeon-ah… I’m gonna come if you keep fucking me like this…”
“We’re whores, sunbae!” Miyeon cried, grinding harder against IU’s clit as wetness spilled all over their skin. “Let’s just accept it! We’re just fuckholes for them to use and it feels so good!”
“No…” IU wept, arching her back as the man below pumped deep into her asshole. “I’m not a Spade anymore… that was so long ago… I don’t want to remember it…”
“It’s okay, sunbae,” Miyeon said, kissing her messily. “I know how it feels. I feel it every day. Once a Spade, always a Spade.”
She shook her head, shutting her eyes. “No… no…”
“Clubs or Spades, you’re both filthy little sluts,” the King below grunted. “Now get up. We’re not done.”
My mind no longer functioned properly, but I thought I saw IU being lifted. Her legs were wrapped tightly around the waist of the King facing her, her small arms clinging to his shoulders for dear life, while the other King stood behind her, gripping her hips to anchor her.
She was sandwiched between them, feet dangling helplessly, completely at their mercy.
“Open up, Your Highness!” the King in front of her roared, slamming into her pussy while the one behind drove into her ass.
She screamed, her head thrown back, neck straining. “Oh god—not like this—”
“Tell us what you are!” the one behind her growled, biting her shoulder.
“…I’m a cock sheath,” IU sobbed, bouncing with the impact. “I’m a filthy whore disguised as royalty… I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I can’t hide it anymore! Please don’t watch me like this—”
Her voice was stopped as his lips crashed against hers, his tongue invading her mouth like he was dragging hers out for punishment. She leaned even closer, letting saliva and juices splash between their chins and cheeks.
To her left, Miyeon was straddling two Kings at once, her hips spread wide as she impaled herself on two upright cocks simultaneously.
“Oh god!” Miyeon screamed, her hands gripping a pair of shoulders for leverage as she slammed herself up and down, taking them both—one in her pussy, one in her ass—riding them in a frantic rhythm that made her eyes roll back into her head. “I’m coming again—I’m gonna come again!”
The King whose cock was buried in her pussy reached up, his large hand wrapping around her throat, choking her mid-bounce. “Look at you,” he growled, squeezing tight enough to make her gasp. “Bouncing on two cocks at once and still just getting wetter by the second.”
“It feels so good, Master. You’re filling me completely. Thank you for using my holes.”
“Deeper!” the bottom King groaned, grabbing her hips and pulling her down harder onto his shaft.
“No… it’s already so deep… you’re so big that it’s hitting spots I’ve never felt before…” Miyeon squealed in delight.
He spat directly onto her face. “You like being spit on while you get split in half, don’t you?”
“Yes! Ahh—” she choked out, her face flushed as she rode them harder, mixing her sweat with his spit. “You’re gonna break me in half like this… I can’t take much more…”
“You can and you will,” the other King laughed from behind her, watching her ass swallow his length completely. “Keep fucking yourself like this. Use both of your holes. One for the House of Clubs, the other for the House of Spades.”
“Yes, Master!” Miyeon’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “Please use my ass and my pussy to your liking!”
The sounds merged—IU’s desperate, broken wails as she was paraded around, stuffed from both ends, mixing with the wet, animalistic noises of Miyeon choking herself and riding the two men. It was a deranged symphony of lust and sin, playing like background music in a horror film happening right before my eyes.
“I’m close. Don’t let them go. Hold them down.”
“Please come! Come for me, Masters!”
“Paint my insides with your cum, please!”
“Keep going, fuck me until I pass out!”
“As you wish, Queen.”
“I’m coming!”
“Deeper!”
“Take it!”
“Please… no more… I can’t hold it…”
“You don’t have to hold it. Come all you want. Come your brains out.”
The Kings groaned in unison, driving deep one final time.
Miyeon screamed as she was flooded from both ends, her body spasming uncontrollably, while IU threw her head back, a silent scream of shock escaping her lips as she felt the hot jets of cum filling her pussy and her ass simultaneously. Her eyes rolled back, toes curling, her entire body locking up in an orgasm so intense it looked painful.
They held them there for a long moment, ensuring every drop was deposited. Then, one by one, the Kings pulled out, watching their cum drip out of the respective holes.
Miyeon rolled on her side, twitching, as cum leaked from her stretched openings, spilling on the mat beneath her. She was smiling—a dazed, broken smile that didn’t even look human anymore.
Meanwhile, IU lay flat on her stomach, her sweaty face pressed into the floor. Her pussy was clenching onto nothing and her ass was gaping, dripping white fluids that ran down her thighs as she trembled, gasping for air.
The Kings stood over them, zipping up their pants, looking down at the mess they had made.
“Well then,” one said, wiping sweat from his brow. “Long live the Queen.”
IU lifted her head weakly, as if she tried to say something, but all that came out was a soft, broken whimper as she collapsed back into the puddle of cum.
--
“Ladies and gentlemen… we now approach the finale of the third round.”
The Dealer let the sentence hang just long enough for everyone in the room to take their seats again after another short reception.
“Please, get comfortable,” he continued, adjusting his cuffs. “Because things might start getting… a bit intense in this last round, as always.”
The spotlight above the Spades quadrant brightened, sharpening into a hard white circle.
“We are but one more performance away from approaching the fourth and final round of the night. But please do not worry, we aren’t anywhere close to being done…” He paced the stage slowly, unable to suppress his excitement. “Up until recently, our next Ace held her crown as the Black Ace of Spades for quite some time…”
The screams grew louder, but he raised a hand as if conducting them, instigating the frenzy further with a flick of his wrist. “The House of Spades ranks their Aces based on performance, not seniority. A title is not a birthright. It is a privilege—earned, defended, and, when necessary… taken. That’s right, folks. Her position has been recently claimed by another. And tonight, she wears the collar of someone else.”
He turned toward the stage with a slow, theatrical bow. “My dear patrons… allow me to present to you…” The audience could no longer hold their tongues or applause. “The Red Ace of Spades… Karina of aespa!”
Karina stepped into the light like it hurt her to move. She walked forward slowly, the red collar hugging her throat like it was choking her, and for a second it looked less like an accessory and more like a wound. Her blindfold was the same shade of red, tied cleanly at the back of her head, and her lipstick matched so perfectly it felt intentional—like the House had dressed her up like a painting of shame.
The contrast between her pale skin and the decorations of red made her look unreal—like a succubus or a vampire in a human body. She was downright devastating to look at, and it was painfully obvious that her beauty sent shockwaves through the room, because the crowd didn’t clap the way they clapped for the other stages. It wasn’t an applause—it was an uproar.
Men leaned forward, abandoning their drinks and women stared, mouths slightly open. The hunger in the room was so overwhelming it made me nauseous.
The Dealer watched her reach center stage, letting her stand there exposed for a moment longer than necessary. Then he stopped at her side and dipped his head toward the mic again.
“My dear,” he said, sweetly condescending, “just last year you were the star of the entire Auction. The High Ace of Spades, revered by the entire world. And yet today, you stand before us as Red while another wears your collar around her neck. Any words for our audience?”
Karina’s face didn’t even twitch. “I’m sorry for disappointing our guests,” she said, her voice low and shaky. “I’ll make it up to everyone. I promise.”
Those exact words lit the room on fire.
“Oh my God,” a man near the front groaned, like he was in pain. “That voice—holy shit. What a sexy voice.”
“She’s still a beauty even in disgrace,” another said, shaking his head in disbelief. “If anything, it makes her hotter. God damn, man.”
The Dealer smiled, taking a slow step forward as if reminding the crowd of something important. “Never forget, my dear patrons—an Ace is not something you decide to become. The title exists for a reason, and the House of Spades does not tolerate mediocrity. It does not reward effort. It rewards results.”
He turned his head slightly toward Karina, like she was standing proof of his point. “And when an Ace falls short… the House ensures the lesson is learned.”
The crowd broke again—louder, nastier—like they’d just been given permission to actually enjoy it.
“Fuck,” someone hissed from the crowd. “She’s got a better body than anyone I’ve ever seen. Those huge tits and milky thighs. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“I don’t care what the score is,” another voice said, slurring. “I’m going bankrupt for her.”
“This bitch is worth every penny,” a younger guest laughed, leaning into his friend. “Look at her. A fucking sex doll made to be used.”
“I want her to look at me!” a woman yelled. “Take the blindfold off! Let her see us!”
“Show us the results already!” someone shouted, pounding the table hard enough to rattle glasses.
From the distance, I saw Sora stand so abruptly her chair nearly fell backward. John’s hand caught her forearm immediately, guiding her back down with a quiet firmness that didn’t need words.
She didn’t fight him, but she didn’t relax either. Her shoulders stayed locked and her hands gripped the edge of the table like she was holding herself there by force.
Sora. John. It’s Karina. It’s why you’re here. Please win. You have to. Use all your Jokers.
On stage, the Dealer tilted the mic toward Karina again, voice dripping with that same mockery. “How does it feel to fall so far from grace?”
Karina swallowed hard, the movement visible in her throat.
“I’m ready,” she said, the coldness in her tone somehow made it worse. “I’ve failed myself, and now I will accept the consequences.”
“Spoken like someone who remembers what the title means. A true Spade, no matter Red or Black.” His smile sharpened dangerously. “Show us the results!”
A collective gasp ripped through the audience. People stood up, craning their necks, as whispers erupted like wildfire.
“Oh my,” the Dealer gasped, as he stepped back from the podium, staring up at the screen as if the numbers were burning his eyes. “That is a lot of points and a lot of Jokers…”
“No,” I whispered, praying that my eyes were deceiving me. “No. Not a tie. Anything but a tie.”
The Dealer let out a breathless laugh that echoed through the stunned ballroom. “Another Sudden Death, ladies and gentlemen!”
No. They only have one Joker left because of me. Please, don’t let this happen. Not like this, please.
“Between Teams Three and Nine, who have both played, the absolute highest hand possible! Four Jokers! Two Teams! Who will rise victorious?”
He walked to the edge of the stage, his gaze sweeping over the crowd as his mask caught the lights above.
“Two teams! Two titans! Both willing to burn everything they have for a single Ace! But there can be no ties in this Auction! The rules are absolute!”
He snapped his fingers, and the screen turned a blood-red, the numbers resetting to a terrifying, empty zero between the two stalemated teams.
“Who will rise victorious from the ashes?” he said, before pausing dramatically. “Thirty seconds. Fight for your life.”
The floor beneath me felt like a trapdoor that had just swung open.
They were here for Karina. They came to this hellhole, played these sick games, and spent all of this money to save Karina. But because of me—because I dragged Yujin into this mess with me—they were about to lose her.
How cruel was this world? How worthless was my life that even if I chose to die, there was nothing I could do to put a stop to this?
Sudden Death Results:
[Team 3] 🅹 + 🅹 (Winner!)
[Team 9] 🅹
Sudden Death points: 3 🅹 (₩900,000,000)
Final total: 153 + 11 🅹 (₩4,830,000,000)
It felt like someone had torn my stomach straight out through my throat.
For a moment, there was silence, an overwhelming, crushing silence—but I couldn’t tell if the world had actually gone quiet or if my mind had simply stopped processing sound.
People stood to clap and cheer, but the only thing I heard, the only thing that broke through the chaos—was Sora’s scream.
A sound so heartbreaking and horrifying that it felt like it was peeling the skin from my bones.
“Jimin-ah!” she shrieked, her once warm voice shattered into a thousand pieces. “No! No, no, no! Please, no!”
John, James, and Jake moved immediately, grabbing at her shoulders, her arms, trying to hold her back. But she was beyond reason—lunging toward the stage like a wounded animal, clawing at the air between them.
My body protested so violently to the sight that I wanted to throw up.
The woman who’d been so calm, so kind, so serene just hours ago was now breaking apart in front of everyone. The woman whose smile brought peace to every pair of eyes it reached was falling from grace before a crowd of strangers.
On stage, Karina froze. Her head snapped toward the sound before her body went rigid. Even from the distance, I could see the exact moment the recognition hit her—the way her shoulders locked and the way her breathing visibly stopped.
Her lips parted below her blindfold, forming a single word I couldn’t hear: Unnie?
“You can’t!” Sora screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. “You can’t do this to her! She doesn’t deserve this! No! Please, no! Not my Jimin!”
“Oh dear,” the Dealer said from the stage, his tone dripping with mockery as he pressed a hand to his chest. “It appears we have a bit of an alcohol problem here.”
“I won’t let you touch her!” Sora’s voice rose higher, more frantic. “I won’t let you! Do you hear me?! Don’t you dare touch her! I’ll kill you!”
She thrashed against the arms holding her, nearly breaking free for a second before James pulled her back.
“Let us?” The Dealer’s voice turned sharp. “Why, the rules of the Auction are clear, my love. Winners take all.” He gestured toward the winning table. “Your team surrendered a respectable amount of money, but I’m afraid it simply wasn’t enough.”
“Sit down already!” a man’s voice called out from somewhere behind them. “You’re embarrassing yourself!”
“Yeah, you lost fair and square,” another voice added, bored and dismissive. “Stop whining about it.”
“Besides, didn’t your team already snipe An Yujin’s round from the rest of us? You got your win. Be grateful and shut up.”
“We came here to be entertained, not to watch you play hero.”
“I don’t give a shit what you came here for!” Sora screamed at them, her composure completely shattered. “You’re vile! You’re all fucking pathetic, disgusting excuses for humans! All of you! Every single one of you can go rot in hell!”
On stage, Karina’s hands were shaking violently at her sides. Her whole body trembled, but she still hadn’t moved or spoken. She just looked in the direction of Sora’s voice with an expression of pure devastation.
“I suggest you sit down,” the Dealer said, his voice dropping dangerously low. “This is your final warning.”
“Let’s do another round! ” Sora’s voice cracked completely, tears streaming down her face now, visible even beneath the mask. “Please just sell us more Jokers! I know you have them! We’ll buy them all! Everything has a price here, doesn’t it?!”
“That’s not how this works,” he replied coldly. “The round is closed.”
“John—tell them! Tell them we’ll buy more!” she pleaded desperately, shaking his arms. “Please, I’m begging you! Don’t let this happen to her! Please, John!”
John stayed silent, his jaw clenched tight, but he didn’t move.
He knew. We all knew.
It was over.
Sora’s voice broke into pure anguish as she turned back to the stage. “Then take me instead!”
The words ripped out of her throat so loud they silenced the murmured laughter in the room. Even the Dealer paused.
She ripped her mask off, throwing it onto the table. Her face was wet with tears, eyes wild and desperate, but her beauty actually took my breath away.
“Take me!” she screamed, stepping forward, pushing James’s hands away. “Let her go and take me! I’ll do it! I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll be the Ace—just let her go!”
“No!” Karina finally screamed from the stage, finding her voice. “Absolutely not! I won’t allow it!”
“Madam.” The Dealer looked Sora up and down. “Do you truly believe you can simply… volunteer to be an Ace?”
“I’m offering you a trade!” Sora cried, shaking. “A life for a life! A soul for a soul! I’ll trade mine for hers!”
“You insult us.” He scoffed into the microphone. “An Ace is not merely a body to be swapped out at a whim. They are handpicked by the Kings themselves. They undergo months and years of rigorous discipline, training, and refinement to earn that title. It is a prestigious title, one that requires perfection.”
He stepped closer to the edge of the stage, looking down at her like a teacher scolding a child.
“You are a civilian. You have no training. And clearly no discipline. To think you could simply step onto this stage and perform at the level of our esteemed Aces is… frankly, laughable.”
The audience, however, disagreed.
“I don’t know about that,” a man at the next table commented, leaning back in his chair with a low whistle. “She’s got a better body than all of the Aces I’ve seen tonight including that one.”
“Seriously,” another guest agreed, eyes glued to Sora’s figure in her black dress. “She’s wasted in the audience. I’d bid on her in a heartbeat.”
“Hey Dealer!” someone shouted from the back. “I’ll put five Jokers on the crying one! She looks like she’d scream real nice!”
“Put them on stage together! Let them fuck each other since they’re so in love!”
Sora didn’t even flinch at the comments. She just stared at the Dealer, her chest heaving, a desperate hope flickering in her eyes.
“We do not cater to the whims of the mob!” the Dealer snapped, straightening his jacket with a look of distaste. “We have standards here. You are not an Ace, and you never will be. You are simply a guest who has forgotten her place.”
“Please! I’ll sign any contract! I’ll do whatever it takes!”
“Enough! This has ceased to be amusing.” He raised a hand. “Guards! This guest is disrupting the integrity of the Auction,” he snarled, turning his back on her. “Remove her immediately.”
“No! No, please!” Sora’s voice pitched into pure panic as security began closing in. “I’ll do anything! Please! Don’t do this her, please!”
Security reached the table; an army of black suits and blank silver masks, the same that brought Yujin and I back here to begin with.
“Hey!” James barked, trying to pull one of the guards back. “Get off of her!”
“Get your goddamn hands off her!” Jake joined in, grabbing at another guard’s arm.
More guards appeared from nowhere, and the three of them were overpowered in seconds. Black-gloved hands yanked them backward, dragging them toward the exit like they were nothing, like they didn’t matter at all in the overall plan of the system.
“Jimin!” Sora sobbed, her voice breaking into shattered, desperate pieces as they pulled her away. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! This is all my fault! I should have—I should have—I’ll come back for you! I promise! I swear on my life! I won’t give up! Just wait for me! I’ll find a way—I’ll do whatever it takes!”
On stage, Karina finally moved. She took one shaky step forward, her hands reaching out uselessly. “Unnie—”
Her voice grew more desperate with every word, like she was trying to reach across an impossible distance. Like if she just screamed loud enough, she could undo what had already been done.
“I won’t abandon you! I’m coming back! I promise I’ll come back!”
Karina’s whole body shook as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her lips trembled, and for a moment, she looked like she might collapse.
“It’s okay, Unnie,” she said, in a voice so soft it was barely audible. “I’m an Ace of Spades. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
And then the doors closed.
Karina stood frozen, her arms still outstretched toward where Sora had been.
And all I could hear was the echo of those words, still ringing in my ears like a ghost that refused to leave.
It’s okay, Unnie.
“Our apologies for such a rude interruption,” he said, moving back to the front of the stage. “Now… please show us, Table Three… your face cards.”
The screen lit up.
It wasn’t okay.
End of Chapter 15.
A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter took so long, but as you can see, it was jampacked :') Hope you guys think it was worth the wait. Thank you for reading as always!
Another Wednesday begins, and here you are, going down in an elevator while staring at your reflection in the polished metal doors. The dark circles under your eyes get a little more pronounced every day, and you’ve reached the point of simply accepting them. They’re just part of you now. (Luckily, the look of someone on the verge of burnout is fashionable these days.)
You stifle a yawn and pull out your phone, scrolling past the cluster of work emails you're absolutely not going to deal with until you're physically sitting at your desk with coffee in hand. A text notification from Gaeul sits at the top of your messages: "I'm downstairs! Silver car, can't miss it ✨" followed by "take ur time tho no rush" because that's just how she is, always considerate even when she's doing you a massive favor.
It didn’t take long for her to earn the nickname “Miss Sun” at the office, and you of all people know it’s completely deserved.
The doors slide open and you step into the underground parking garage. You spot the silver sedan almost immediately, mostly because it's the shiniest thing in the entire lot, looking like it just rolled off a showroom floor yesterday. Which, knowing Gaeul mentioned she'd been car shopping last month, it probably did. You make your way over, hiking your messenger bag higher on your shoulder, and tap lightly on the passenger window before opening the door and sliding into the leather seat.
"Good morning."
Gaeul turns to you with that signature bright smile, her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail and her work blazer already on despite the early hour. She looks annoyingly awake for someone who has to deal with property listings and client calls all day, her eyes clear and alert where yours feel like they're filled with sand. "Morning! You look like death warmed over, by the way. And I mean that in the nicest possible way."
"Thanks, I appreciate the honesty." You buckle your seatbelt and sink back into the seat, which is admittedly really comfortable. New car smell fills your lungs as you take a deep breath. "Seriously though, thank you again for the ride. My car being in the shop this week has been a nightmare."
"Oh my god, stop thanking me, it's literally on my way." She waves her hand dismissively as she puts the car in reverse, checking her mirrors. "That's what friends are for. Besides, you've covered for me like a million times when I needed to duck out early. Consider this payback."
You hum in acknowledgment, watching the parking garage entrance approach as she navigates through the rows of vehicles. The real estate firm you both work for isn't glamorous by any stretch of the imagination. It's paperwork and phone calls and spreadsheets and the occasional property walkthrough that breaks up the monotony. But Gaeul makes the cubicle farm bearable with her relentless optimism and her habit of leaving snacks on your desk when she knows you've had a rough morning. She's one of those coworkers who actually became a real friend rather than just someone you nod at in the break room.
The car pulls into the pale gray light of early morning, the sun still so low that makes you want to crawl back into bed. You rest your head against the window as the city drifts past, storefronts and pedestrians melting together as you ride along.
"Okay, you're way too quiet over there. You need music." Gaeul glances at you with mild concern. "Something to wake you up. I've got really good playlists."
"Sure, whatever you want."
"Okay, give me a second." She reaches for her phone sitting in the center console, eyes darting between the road and the screen as she unlocks it. "I've been super into Paramore lately. Like, revisiting all their old stuff but also their newer albums? Hayley Williams is a goddess, I don't make the rules. Oh, wait, hold on." She taps at the screen a few times. "This car is brand new, like I just got it last week, and I'm still figuring out all the technology. There's so many functions. The Bluetooth situation is ridiculous, there's like eight different ways to connect and I can never remember which one I used last time. And the screen is huge which is cool but also overwhelming? Like I don't need a tablet-sized display just to change the temperature."
You watch her fumble with the phone, then glance at the road, then back at the phone. The car drifts slightly toward the center line and you feel your pulse tick up just a notch.
"Hey, hey, maybe focus on not crashing and deal with the music later."
"Oh please, that's literally impossible." She doesn't even look up from her phone, still scrolling through what looks like a music app. "I'm super attentive, I've never had an accident. I'm like the safest driver you know."
"You're literally not watching the road right now."
"I'm watching it with my peripheral vision, it's fine. Okay, I think I found it, let me just sync this and we should be good to..."
Whatever she was going to say gets swallowed by the sound that suddenly erupts from the car speakers.
It's not Paramore.
It's a moan. A very loud, very feminine, very unmistakably sexual moan that fills every inch of the car's interior with surround-sound clarity. The fancy speaker system that came with this fancy new car is doing its absolute best to make sure you hear every single breathy gasp and whimper in crisp, high-definition audio. And then the enormous center console screen flickers to life. It's a video. The angle is POV, shot from below, the camera clearly being held by someone lying on their back. And at the center of the frame, unmistakably, undeniably, is Gaeul. Her face is flushed, her hair loose and messy around her shoulders, her mouth open as another moan escapes her that matches perfectly with the one coming through the speakers. She's naked from what you can see, her body moving rhythmically, and the camera angle makes it very clear that she's riding something.
But the moans aren't just coming from her.
There's another feminine sound underneath hers, breathier and higher in pitch, and you realize with a jolt that the POV doesn't belong to a guy at all. Whoever is holding that camera, whoever Gaeul is currently fucking on that massive screen right in front of your face, is a woman. You catch a glimpse of slender hands gripping Gaeul's thighs, nails painted a pastel pink, and the motion of her hips combined with the angle makes it crystal clear that there's a strap-on involved. Gaeul's head tips back, her hands bracing on the other person's stomach for leverage as she rides harder, and the sound that comes out of her is absolutely filthy.
"Oh fuck," Gaeul says beside you. (The real Gaeul, the one driving, who has finally looked up from her phone.)
"Oh fuck," the Gaeul on the screen echoes, but in a very different context, her hips stuttering as she grinds down particularly hard.
You cannot move. You cannot speak. Your hand is frozen halfway to the volume dial and your brain has completely abandoned any attempt at rational thought because you are currently sitting in your coworker's brand new car at seven forty-five in the morning watching her get railed by another woman on a screen the size of a small television while the speakers blast every wet sound and desperate moan directly into your ears.
The video Gaeul shifts her angle, one hand reaching back to brace on her partner's thigh, and the new position puts everything on display. The way her chest heaves with each breath, the slight sheen of sweat on her skin, the visible tension in her stomach muscles as she works herself on the strap. The other woman says something encouraging that you can't quite make out, and Gaeul laughs breathlessly in response, and the laugh turns into another moan as she picks up the pace, and then mercifully, blessedly, the screen goes dark and the audio cuts off as real Gaeul finally manages to close out of whatever app had betrayed her so thoroughly.
Luckily, you’re lethargic enough not to have any over-the-top reaction to the situation.
"It's been a while since I listened to Paramore, but I gotta say, they're getting pretty experimental with these music videos."
Gaeul snorts, her eyes back on the road like nothing happened. "That was good. It feels like a scripted scene. Have you ever done stand up comedy?”
"No, but I'll consider a career change."
"Yeah, real estate is boring anyway." She adjusts her grip on the steering wheel, completely casual, not a hint of embarrassment in her posture. "Okay so that was my bad. I accidentally went into my gallery instead of the music app and it just auto-played whatever was open. Which was apparently that."
You nod slowly, still processing, still very aware of the phantom sounds echoing in your ears and the images that are now seared permanently into your brain.
"You probably want some context about the video."
"It's cool." You hold up a hand, trying to give her an out. "It's personal, you don't have to explain anything."
"No, it's fine, I don't mind." She shrugs casually. "I recorded it with a friend of mine. We hook up sometimes when we're both free and in the mood. It's nice to have these moments saved, you know? Mainly for masturbation purposes afterward."
You just nod.
"It's kind of narcissistic, I know." She laughs, completely unbothered. "But it's also very hot. Like, watching yourself is weird but also a massive turn-on? I don't know how to explain it. It just does something for me."
You are absolutely not sure what to say to that. Your coworker, your friend, the girl who brings you pastries from the bakery near her apartment and always remembers how you take your coffee, is casually discussing her masturbation habits at seven fifty in the morning while driving you to work. Your brain is struggling to reconcile friendly office Gaeul with the Gaeul you just watched getting fucked six ways from Sunday on a screen the size of a small tablet.
"Did you like it?" The question catches you off guard. You turn to look at her and she glances at you briefly before returning her attention to the road. "I mean, it's pretty amateurish." She continues when you don't immediately respond. "We're not professionals or anything. But the quality is pretty good, right? My friend recorded it on her new iPhone. That thing has an insane camera. And the audio sounded really good through the car speakers, I wonder if it's got Dolby Atmos or something. I should check the manual."
"It, uh." You swallow, trying to gather your scattered thoughts. "Yeah, it was... it's quite... hot?" You say more as a question than an opinion, but Gaeul beams at you anyway.
"Thanks! That's very kind of you to say." She seems genuinely pleased by the compliment, like you just told her you liked her new haircut. "I appreciate the honesty."
"You're... pretty chill about this stuff."
"About sex?" She tilts her head, considering. "Yeah, I guess I am. Why wouldn't I be? It's all just sex, you know? Everyone has sex. It's like the most natural thing in the world. I don't get why people are so weird and secretive about it. Like, we all know what goes on behind closed doors. Why pretend otherwise?"
"Fair point." You find yourself nodding along despite the surreal nature of this entire conversation. "It's pretty cool that you're so... liberal about it."
"Life's too short to be uptight about fucking,” she says. "Anyway, I hope I didn't make things awkward. Did you get turned on?" You turn your head towards her suddenly, eyes wide, your expression speaking for you. "Sorry, was that too direct? I just figured I should ask since I basically ambushed you with porn at eight in the morning. I didn't mean to get you all worked up before we have to go sit in an office for eight hours."
"I'm not..." You start to deny it, the automatic response of someone who has been conditioned to downplay any sexual reaction in polite company. "I'm not horny."
You know that didn't sound convincing, especially given the very obvious situation currently developing in your work pants. You shift slightly, trying to adjust without drawing attention to the problem, but Gaeul just raises an eyebrow at you.
"But you said you liked the video."
"I did, but that doesn't mean..."
"It was pretty explicit." She's fighting a smile now, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Like, objectively hot. Are you telling me you watched that whole thing and felt nothing? Because I call bullshit."
You sigh, accepting defeat. "Okay, fine. I might have gotten a little aroused. But it was involuntary. A natural physical response to visual and auditory stimuli. It doesn't mean anything."
"That's fair. For what it's worth, I got turned on too. Just from the audio, honestly. That day was soooo good." She draws out the word, sounding slightly dreamy. "My friend made me cum three times. Three! Back to back. I was basically useless for like an hour afterward. Just lying there like a starfish, completely brain-dead."
The mental image of that is not helping your current situation at all. You press your thighs together subtly, willing your body to calm the fuck down.
"She must be very good then. Your friend."
"Oh, she's incredible. Very generous, very attentive. Knows exactly what she's doing." Gaeul sighs happily at the memory. "Ten out of ten, would recommend. If you're ever looking for a good time with a woman who knows her way around a strap, I can give you her number."
You're not entirely sure if she's joking.
"Listen." She glances at you, then does a double-take, her eyes dropping to your lap for a split second before returning to the road. "Would you be willing to stop for a quick minute to fuck?"
The car swerves slightly as your brain completely short-circuits. "What?"
"I mean, I can see your bulge from here." She gestures vaguely in the direction of your crotch, as casual as if she were pointing out a nice building. "You must have a pretty nice dick based on that situation you've got going on. And I'm turned on now because talking about that day always gets me going. So I'm just saying, as an option, we could pull over somewhere discreet and take care of this before work."
“Yeah, thanks for noticing."
"You're welcome." She grins at you, completely unruffled. "It's good for self-esteem. Seriously though, you're horny, I'm horny, let's just help each other out and then head to work like normal. We'll still get there on time if we're quick about it."
You stare at her. She stares at the road. The proposal hangs in the air, absurd and matter-of-fact and somehow making perfect sense in the context of this absolutely insane morning.
The truth is: Gaeul is gorgeous. You've always known that, in an objective, coworker-you-shouldn't-think-about-that-way sense. She's petite and pretty with delicate features and a smile that lights up whatever room she's in. And now, knowing that underneath the professional blazers and sensible work shoes is a woman who films her hook-ups and watches them later, who talks about cumming three times with the same casualness as discussing the lunch, who apparently has no filter whatsoever when it comes to sex... it's doing something to you. Something significant. Something that's making your already uncomfortable pants situation exponentially worse.
"Okay,” you say quietly, and now there’s no turning back. She knows you want this just as much as she does. "Yeah. Let's... let's do that."
She flicks on her turn signal (ever the attentive driver) and takes the next right, navigating down a side street and then another until she finds what she's apparently looking for: a small, secluded corner behind what looks like an abandoned warehouse, shielded from the main road by overgrown bushes and a crumbling brick wall. She pulls in, shifts the car into park, and turns off the engine.
She turns to look at you, her eyes bright, and you realize that this is actually happening. "Okay, let's begin." Gaeul says it like she's about to start a work presentation rather than have sex with you in the backseat of her car. She reaches for the climate controls, cranking up the air conditioning until cool air blasts through the vents. "Don't want us sweating too much and showing up to work looking like disasters. HR would have questions."
She shrugs off her blazer, folding it neatly and placing it on the front passenger seat with the kind of care that suggests she's done this before, or at least thought about the logistics. You follow her lead automatically, removing your own jacket and draping it over the headrest.
"Back seat,” Gaeul says to you. “More room to work with."
The transition from front to back is nothing short of comedic. Gaeul tries to slip between the seats and immediately gets her hip caught on the center console. You attempt to go around the other way and somehow manage to elbow her in the shoulder. There's a brief moment where you're both stuck in an awkward tangle of limbs, her knee in your ribs and your hand braced on the ceiling for balance, and she lets out a laugh that breaks through any remaining tension.
"This is so unsexy right now."
"We'll get there."
Eventually, through a combination of contortion and determination, you both make it to the backseat. The space is bigger than you expected for a sedan, probably one of those features she paid extra for without realizing it would come in handy for exactly this purpose. You settle against the door, one leg stretched across the seat and the other foot planted on the floor, and Gaeul considers the available positions with a critical eye.
"I'll just sit on your lap. Hold on." She swings one leg over your thighs and tries to settle, but the angle is wrong and she ends up sliding sideways. "Okay, that's not working. Help me?" Your hands find her waist, guiding her as she repositions, and after a few adjustments she manages to settle properly with her knees bracketing your hips and her weight resting comfortably against your thighs. She wiggles experimentally and nods, apparently satisfied. "There we go. Comfortable."
You're acutely aware of the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her work skirt, the way she's positioned directly over the bulge that hasn't subsided even slightly since that video started playing. If she notices (and she definitely notices), she doesn't comment on it.
"We should kiss first. Break the ice a little." Before you can respond, she leans in and presses her lips to yours.
The kiss starts tentative, like you're both testing the waters to see how this is going to work. Her lips are soft and taste faintly of the strawberry chapstick you've seen her apply at her desk a hundred times, and there's something incredibly strange about kissing someone whose mouth you've watched form spreadsheet formulas and client greetings and casual lunch conversation. But then she tilts her head, changing the angle, and her tongue traces along your lower lip in a way that makes your brain stop cataloging the weirdness and start focusing on how fucking good it feels.
Your hands slide up from her waist, fingers working at the buttons of her shirt. The fabric parts to reveal a simple nude-colored bra underneath, practical rather than fancy, the kind of thing you wear to work because you're not expecting anyone to see it. You push the shirt off her shoulders and she helps, shrugging out of it and tossing it vaguely in the direction of the front seats.
She's petite, just like you've always noticed, but seeing her like this is different from catching glimpses in professional attire. Her frame is delicate, her shoulders narrow, her chest modest beneath the thin material of her bra. You pull back from the kiss to look at her properly and she watches you with something like amusement, clearly comfortable being observed.
Your lips find her jaw, trailing a path of kisses down to her neck as your hands reach around to unhook her bra. The clasp gives way after a brief struggle (you've never been great at these things, but you manage) and she lets the straps slide down her arms until the bra drops away entirely.
Her breasts are small, barely a handful each, with pale pink nipples that are already starting to pebble in the cool air from the AC. You cup one gently, feeling the soft weight of it against your palm, and she sighs at the contact.
"You have perfect tits."
"Thanks, you're such a gentleman." The words are teasing but you can hear the genuine appreciation underneath. She reaches up to run her fingers through your hair as you continue mapping the curve of her breast with your hand. "I went out with this guy once who said I'd look better with implants. Can you believe that? Like, we'd been dating for maybe two months and he just casually drops that he thinks I should get surgery."
"What an asshole."
"Right? I mean, I'm not against cosmetic procedures in general, people should do whatever makes them feel good about themselves, but that's not for me. I think I’m just underrated in this society, you know? People just don’t get my appeal. But I like my natural body." She's still talking even as your thumb brushes over her nipple, her breath catching slightly before she continues: "It feels empowering, you know? Not conforming to what society says I should look like. Like, why should I change myself to fit some arbitrary standard that some random men decided was attractive? My body is my body and I think there's something radical about just accepting it the way it..."
You close your mouth over her nipple and she stops mid-sentence.
"Oh. Oh, that's really good."
The taste of her skin is clean, and you feel her nipple harden further against your tongue as you suck gently. Her hands tighten in your hair and her hips shift, grinding her ass back against the rigid length of your cock where it strains against your pants.
You take your time with her chest, switching from one nipple to the other, using your mouth and your hands in alternation. Licking broad strokes with the flat of your tongue, then swirling around the hardened peak. Sucking until she gasps, then releasing to blow cool air across the wet skin and watching her shiver. Her breasts might be small but they're sensitive as fuck, every touch and lick and gentle bite drawing reactions from her that make your cock throb insistently against the confines of your underwear.
Her hips keep moving the whole time, rocking in a slow rhythm that drags her ass across your erection with maddening consistency. The fabric of her skirt has ridden up and you can feel the heat of her even through all the layers between you.
"Okay." Her breathing has gone ragged, her chest flushed pink. "Okay, I need to see what I'm working with here."
She slides off your lap and kneels on the seat beside you, her fingers going to your belt. The metal clinks as she unbuckles it, then she pops the button of your pants and drags the zipper down. Her movements are efficient, purposeful, like she's completing a task rather than undressing you, and there's something weirdly hot about her matter-of-fact approach.
"Lift your hips." You comply, raising yourself off the seat so she can tug your pants and underwear down together. They catch briefly on your erection before she pulls harder, and then your cock springs free, slapping against your stomach with the kind of enthusiasm that would be embarrassing if you had any remaining capacity for embarrassment.
Gaeul stares.
Your cock is hard and flushed, curving slightly upward, thick enough that her fingers probably won't touch when she wraps her hand around it (not that you've measured). The length is significant, easily the full span of her forearm from wrist to elbow, and you watch her expression shift from curiosity to something like impressed disbelief.
“Holy shit." She tilts her head, studying your cock. "I could play baseball with that thing."
"Thanks?"
"No, seriously, that's..." She wraps her hand around the shaft and you were right, her fingers don't quite meet around the girth. "That's a lot of dick. Like, objectively. I've seen my fair share and this is definitely in the upper percentile." Her hand starts moving, stroking slowly up and down the length, spreading the bead of precum that's already gathered at the tip. The sensation makes your head fall back against the window, a groan escaping your throat. "Hey, random question."
"Mm?"
"I heard that guys with really big dicks sometimes have trouble pumping enough blood to get fully hard. Like, their hearts can't keep up and they end up feeling faint." Her hand doesn't stop moving as she talks, her grip firm and steady. "Is that true? Have you ever passed out from an erection?"
You lift your head to stare at her incredulously. "I don't... can we not talk about that right now?"
"Why not?"
"Because it's not exactly a topic that gets me going. Medical concerns about my circulatory system aren't really dirty talk."
"Oh." She blinks, then laughs, her nose scrunching in that way it does when she finds something genuinely funny. "You're right, my bad. That was a weird tangent. I just get curious about stuff sometimes."
"I've noticed."
Gaeul shifts her position on the seat, settling onto her knees as she lowers her head toward your lap. Her hand is still wrapped around your shaft, stroking lazily, and she studies your cock with the kind of focused attention she usually reserves for complicated property contracts.
"Fair warning, I have a small mouth. This might take some adjustment." She parts her lips and takes the head of your cock between them, and you immediately understand what she means. Her jaw stretches to accommodate even just the tip, her lips pulled taut around the thick crown, and you can see the slight furrow in her brow as she works to take more. She manages another inch before pulling back, a thin strand of saliva connecting her lower lip to your cockhead. "Yeah, that's... that's a lot."
"You don't have to..."
"No, I want to. Just give me a second to figure this out."
She tries again, this time angling her head differently and relaxing her jaw more deliberately. The warm wetness of her mouth envelops the first few inches and she holds there, breathing steadily through her nose, letting herself adjust to the stretch. Her tongue presses flat against the underside of your shaft, tracing along the thick vein that runs the length of it, and the sensation makes your thighs tense involuntarily.
Slowly, carefully, she starts to move. Her head bobs in a shallow rhythm at first, just working the top third of your cock, her hand gripping the base to cover what her mouth can't reach. Each downstroke pushes her a little further, and you can feel the resistance of her throat each time she tests her limits. She gags slightly on a particularly ambitious attempt and pulls back, coughing once before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Okay. Okay, I think I've got it now."
When she takes you back into her mouth, something has shifted. She's found her rhythm, her confidence, and the difference is immediate. Her lips form a tight seal around your shaft as she sinks down, taking more than half your length before retreating, and her hand works in tandem with her mouth to cover the rest. The coordination is seamless, her fist twisting on each upstroke while her tongue swirls around the head, and the dual sensation has you gripping the leather seat hard.
"Fuck, Gaeul..."
She hums in response, the vibration traveling through your cock and straight to the base of your spine. Her pace increases, her movements growing more confident, more eager. You look down and the sight of her is almost too much: her pretty face stretched around your thick shaft, her cheeks hollowing with each suck, her eyes fluttering closed in concentration. Her lips are shiny with spit and precum, obscenely wet, and every time she pulls back you can see the way your cock glistens from her efforts.
Her free hand comes up to cup your balls, rolling them gently in her palm as she continues to work your shaft. The pressure is perfect, just firm enough to add another layer of sensation without being uncomfortable. She squeezes lightly in rhythm with her sucking, timing each motion to maximize the pleasure, and you genuinely have no idea how she's so good at this.
"You're... jesus, you're incredible at this."
She pops off your cock long enough to respond, her hand still stroking steadily. "Thanks. I've had practice." A cheeky grin. "Also, I'm very goal-oriented. When I commit to something, I really commit."
Then her mouth is on you again, and coherent thought becomes increasingly difficult.
She varies her technique constantly, never letting you get too used to any one sensation. Long, slow strokes that drag her lips from base to tip. Quick, shallow bobs focused on the sensitive head. Deep attempts that push into her throat and make her eyes water slightly before she backs off. She traces the ridge of your cockhead with the tip of her tongue, flicks at the frenulum, presses wet kisses along the sides of your shaft. Every nerve ending in your cock is firing at maximum intensity and you're pretty sure you're going to remember this blowjob for the rest of your life.
Then she dips lower.
Her tongue drags down the underside of your shaft, past the base, and she takes one of your balls into her mouth with a gentle suction that makes your entire body jerk. "Oh fuck..."
She releases it with a soft pop, looking up at you through her lashes. "Good?"
"Very good. Very, very good."
"Noted." She returns her attention to your balls, lavishing them with the same dedication she showed your cock. Her tongue traces the seam between them, wet and warm, before she sucks one back into her mouth and rolls it gently. Her hand keeps stroking your shaft the entire time, maintaining a steady rhythm that keeps you hovering at the edge of sanity. She switches to the other ball, giving it equal treatment, and the combination of sensations is so overwhelming that you have to actively fight to keep your hips still.
"You taste good, by the way." She says it casually. "Clean. Some guys don't bother with basic hygiene and it's like, dude, you want me to put my mouth there, maybe wash first? But you're good. Very considerate."
"I... thanks, I guess."
"You're welcome." Her mouth finds your cock again, taking you deep, and she sets a punishing pace that has you seeing stars. The wet sounds of her sucking fill the car, obscene and rhythmic, and her hand twists and strokes in perfect counterpoint to her bobbing head. Your balls are tight and heavy, still tingling from her attention, and every muscle in your body is coiled with tension as the pleasure builds and builds.
Then she pulls off suddenly, breathing hard, her lips swollen and her chin wet with spit. Her eyes are glazed, her cheeks flushed, and when she speaks her voice is rough.
"Okay, I'm really fucking horny now." She doesn't wait for a response. Her hands go to her waist, fumbling with the zipper of her skirt, and she shimmies it down her hips with urgent, graceless movements. The fabric pools around her knees and she kicks it off impatiently, leaving her in nothing but a pair of simple cotton panties that have a very visible wet spot at the center.
She turns as she repositions herself, and you get a clear view of her ass. It's tight and compact, perfectly proportioned to her petite frame, the kind of ass that looks incredible in fitted pants and even better bare. The curve of it is smooth and firm, and when she reaches back to hook her fingers in the waistband of her panties, you find yourself holding your breath.
She doesn't take them off. Instead, she simply pulls the thin fabric to the side, exposing the pink, glistening folds of her pussy, and swings her leg over your lap.
"I need you inside me like, right now." Her hand wraps around your cock, still slick with her spit, and she positions the head at her entrance. You can feel the heat of her, the slick wetness, and your hands find her hips instinctively as she begins to lower herself onto you.
The first inch is almost too much.
You watch Gaeul's face as she sinks down, her expression shifting from eager anticipation to wide-eyed concentration. Her brow furrows, her lips part, and she lets out a shaky breath as her pussy stretches to accommodate the thick head of your cock. She's wet, dripping wet, but the sheer girth of you still requires her to go slow.
"Oh my god." She breathes the words out like a prayer. "Oh my god, you're big."
"We can stop if..."
"Don't you dare." She sinks lower, taking another few inches, and her hands brace on your chest for support. You can feel every flutter of her pussy as it adjusts to the intrusion, the involuntary clenching and releasing as her body works to accept you. The heat of her is incredible, slick and tight and somehow even better than her mouth was, and you have to actively focus on not thrusting upward because she needs to set the pace.
Slowly, incrementally, she works her way down your shaft. Each small drop takes more of you inside her until finally, finally, her ass meets your thighs and she's fully seated with your entire cock buried in her petite body.
"Fuck." Her eyes are squeezed shut, her chest heaving. "Fuck, that's... you're so deep."
You look down at where your bodies meet and your breath catches in your throat.
There's a visible bulge in her lower abdomen.
The outline of your cock is actually visible through her skin, a slight but unmistakable protrusion just below her navel. She's so small and you're so big that there's simply nowhere for you to go except to push against her from the inside. You press your palm flat against it, feeling the hardness of your own cock through her body, and Gaeul lets out a strangled moan at the pressure.
"You can see it." You state the obvious, still somewhat in disbelief.
"I can feel it." She laughs breathlessly. "I feel like you're in my fucking throat. In a good way. In a really, really good way."
She starts to move.
The first roll of her hips is experimental, testing, and you both groan at the sensation. Her pussy drags along your length, that incredible tightness creating friction that makes your toes curl against the car floor. She rises up a few inches and sinks back down, setting a slow rhythm that lets her feel every ridge and vein of your cock as it moves inside her.
"So thick." She pants, her head falling forward, her hair spilling over her shoulders. "God, you're so fucking thick. I feel like I'm being split in half."
Her pace increases gradually, her confidence growing as her body adjusts to your size. The wet sounds of your fucking fill the car, obscene and rhythmic, and you're dimly aware that the windows are starting to fog from the heat you're generating. Her thighs flex as she rides you, lifting and dropping, her ass slapping against your thighs with each downstroke. The bulge in her stomach appears and disappears with her movements.
"Your body is amazing,” you say hoarsely. "Fucking perfect."
"Yeah?" She opens her eyes to look at you, a smile playing at her swollen lips even as she continues to bounce on your cock. "You like petite girls?"
"I like you."
"Smooth answer." She rewards you with a particularly hard grind, rotating her hips in a circle that makes you see stars.
“I’ve always thought you were hot as hell. Of course, in a respectful way, you’re my coworker. But everything about you fascinates me.” You grip her hips tighter, guiding her movements. "And there’s something about the size difference. The way you feel so delicate but you're taking all of me like it's nothing."
"Definitely not nothing." She gasps as you hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Trust me, I'm very aware of every inch. But I appreciate the compliment. It's flattering."
Her rhythm changes, she's chasing something now, her movements less controlled and more instinctive. Her hands slide from your chest to your shoulders, and she uses the leverage to fuck herself on your cock with increasing intensity. The angle shifts and suddenly she's grinding her clit against your pubic bone with each downstroke, adding another layer of stimulation that makes her whole body shudder.
"Right there." Her eyes roll back slightly. "Oh fuck, right there, don't move."
You hold perfectly still, letting her use your body exactly how she needs to. She works herself on your cock with single-minded focus, her hips snapping in a fast, tight rhythm that keeps you buried deep while she rubs her clit against you. Her pussy clenches around your shaft, rhythmic pulses that tell you she's getting close, and you can feel the wetness of her arousal dripping down to coat your balls.
"You feel so good inside me." She's babbling now, her filter completely gone. "So fucking good. I can't believe we've been working together this whole time and I didn't know you were packing this. I would have jumped you months ago. I would have fucked you in the supply closet. In the break room. In the parking garage."
"We can still do all of those things."
"Fuck yes we can."
Her movements are becoming more and more uncoordinated, erratic, her body chasing the orgasm that's building inside her. You can see it in the flush spreading down her chest, feel it in the way her thighs are trembling against your hips. Her pussy is fluttering around your cock, those involuntary clenches coming faster and harder, and her breathing has devolved into sharp, desperate gasps.
"I'm gonna cum." She announces it like she's surprised by the information. "Fuck, I'm actually gonna cum. You're gonna make me cum."
"Do it." You thrust up into her, matching her rhythm, and she cries out at the added depth. "Cum on my cock."
"Oh god, oh fuck, oh..."
Her entire body goes rigid.
You feel her orgasm before you see it, her pussy clamping down on your cock hard, the rhythmic contractions milking your shaft as waves of pleasure crash through her. Her head tips back, her moan becomes guttural, and her nails dig into your shoulders. She shakes on top of you, trembling uncontrollably, her hips still grinding in tiny circles as she rides out the sensation.
"Oh my god." She finally manages words, her body still twitching with aftershocks. "Oh my god, oh my god."
Her pussy is still pulsing around you, little flutters of her inner walls that feel incredible against your sensitive cock. You're painfully hard, desperate for your own release, but you hold yourself back because she's still coming down and you don't want to rush this. She collapses forward against your chest, breathing hard, her heart hammering so fast you can feel it against your own ribcage. Her pussy gives one last clench around your cock and she whimpers at the overstimulation.
"Holy shit." She laughs weakly into your neck. "You made me cum so fast." Gaeul lifts her head from your chest, her cheeks flushed and her eyes still slightly glazed from the aftershocks rolling through her body. She doesn't sound disappointed though, quite the opposite actually. There's a satisfied grin spreading across her face that makes her look almost giddy.
"Usually takes me way longer than that, especially with someone new. But you just..." She gestures at where your bodies are still connected, your cock still buried inside her despite the fact that neither of you have moved. "I don't know. Something about the way you fill me up, I guess. Hit all the right spots."
"Glad I could deliver."
"The good news is that means I can cum more." She wiggles her hips experimentally and you both hiss at the sensation, her pussy still sensitive and your cock still achingly hard. "I'm definitely a multiple orgasm kind of girl. Once I get started, I can just keep going."
You lean up and capture her lips in a quick kiss, tasting the faint sweetness of her lip gloss. When you pull back, you say: "I'd be happy to help with that."
Before she can respond, you're already moving. Your hands grip her waist and lift her off your cock and you reposition her so she's sitting back against the car seat, her legs spread and her panties still pulled to the side. The leather is going to be absolutely ruined after this but that seems like a problem for future Gaeul to deal with.
You kneel on the floor of the backseat, the space cramped but manageable, and settle yourself between her thighs. From this angle you have a perfect view of her pussy, pink and swollen and glistening with a combination of her arousal and the remnants of her orgasm. A thin strand of wetness connects her folds and you watch it stretch and break as she shifts slightly.
"Oh, you're gonna..." She trails off as you hook your hands under her thighs and pull her closer to the edge of the seat. "Okay, fair warning, I'm still really sensitive so this might be..."
You press your lips to her inner thigh and she lets out a nervous giggle. "That tickles." You kiss higher, closer to where she's wet and waiting, and the giggle dissolves into something breathier. "Okay, that's less ticklish and more..."
Your tongue makes contact with her pussy and whatever she was going to say gets lost in a sharp inhale.
The taste of her floods your mouth immediately, tangy and slightly sweet, unmistakably feminine in a way that makes your neglected cock throb between your legs. You drag your tongue through her folds in one long, slow stroke, gathering her wetness. She's soaked, absolutely dripping, and every pass of your tongue produces more slickness for you to lap up.
"Oh god. That's... I'm so sensitive right now, that's really..." You flatten your tongue against her clit and press firmly and her hips jerk up off the seat. "Fuck!"
Another nervous laugh escapes her, but this one has an edge of desperation to it. Her hands come down to rest on your head, not pushing or pulling, just holding you there gently. You can feel the slight tremor in her fingers against your scalp.
"Sorry, sorry." She's apologizing even though she has nothing to apologize for. "It's just a lot right after. But don't stop, please don't stop, it feels really good even though it's intense."
Your tongue explores her with patient deliberation. The hood of her clit is swollen, peeking out from between her folds, and you trace around it in slow circles that make her thighs twitch on either side of your head. Her inner lips are puffy and slick, sensitive enough that even the lightest brush of your tongue draws a reaction. You dip lower, probing at her entrance where she's still slightly stretched from taking your cock, and push inside just enough to feel her walls flutter around the intrusion.
"Your mouth." She manages between shaky breaths. "You're really good with your mouth. Like, really good. Where did you learn to do this?"
You don't answer because your mouth is currently occupied, but you do reward the compliment by sealing your lips around her clit and sucking gently.
Her back arches off the seat and her fingers tighten in your hair. "Oh my god, okay, that's..." She laughs again but it's less nervous now, more incredulous. "That's very good. That's very, very good. Keep doing that."
You establish a rhythm, alternating between broad strokes of your tongue and focused attention on her clit. The nervous giggles have faded completely now, replaced by breathy moans and muttered encouragement that tells you exactly what she likes. Her hips have started moving against your face, subtle rolls that grind her pussy against your mouth, chasing the pleasure you're giving her.
"I can't believe we're doing this." She sounds almost wonderstruck. "We were supposed to be driving to work. We were supposed to listen to Paramore. And now you're eating me out in my backseat and I just came on your dick like five minutes ago and this is officially the weirdest Wednesday of my entire life."
You respond by sliding two fingers inside her (she takes them easily, still loose and wet from your cock) and curling them against her front wall while your tongue continues its assault on her clit.
The sound she makes is not a giggle.
It's a moan, deep, guttural and surprised, like the pleasure caught her off guard. Her pussy clenches around your fingers and you feel a fresh rush of wetness coat your hand. She's getting wetter by the second, her body responding to the dual stimulation with increasing enthusiasm.
"Right there." Her hips buck up into your face. "Oh fuck, right there, don't move your fingers."
You keep your fingers hooked against that spongy spot inside her, maintaining steady pressure while your tongue works her clit in tight circles. The combination seems to be short-circuiting her brain because she's stopped forming coherent sentences, her vocalizations reduced to gasps and whimpers and the occasional curse word.
Then her thighs start to tremble, the muscles twitching involuntarily as pleasure builds in her core. She's so wet that your entire chin is slick with her. You can feel her clit throbbing against your tongue, swollen and sensitive, and every flick makes her whole body jerk.
"I'm gonna cum again." She sounds almost surprised, like she didn't expect it to happen so quickly. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum again already!" You increase your pace, your fingers pumping faster while your tongue presses harder against her clit. She's writhing on the seat now, her back arching and her hands fisting in your hair hard enough to hurt. The pain only spurs you on, makes you more determined to push her over the edge. "Don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop, I'm so close, I'm so fucking close..."
Her thighs clamp around your head like a vice as the orgasm hits her.
You feel it in the violent contractions of her pussy around your fingers, rhythmic pulses that squeeze you tight before releasing, over and over. You feel it in the fresh flood of wetness that spills out of her and coats your tongue, a gush of arousal that you lap up eagerly. You feel it in the way her whole body goes rigid for one suspended moment before she shakes apart, trembling and gasping and crying out loud enough that you're genuinely glad you found a secluded spot.
"Oh god, oh fuck, oh my god..."
She's gushing into your mouth now, her cum coating your tongue and chin and dripping down your neck. The taste of her is everywhere, overwhelming your senses, and you keep licking through her orgasm because you can feel she's not done yet. Aftershock after aftershock rolls through her, each one accompanied by another clench of her pussy and another strangled moan, and you milk every last tremor from her body until she finally goes limp against the seat.
“Okay.” She swallows, needing a second to breathe. “Okay. I need a minute. Holy shit.”
You settle back against the seat beside her, catching your breath while Gaeul lies sprawled against the leather like she's just finished running a marathon. You can hear her heavy breathing in the confines of the car, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on her skin, and when she finally opens her eyes there's a satisfied gleam in them.
"Come here." You turn toward her, expecting maybe another kiss, but instead her hands come up to cup your face and she pulls you close. Her tongue darts out and drags across your chin, lapping up the slickness that coats your skin. The sensation is strange and intimate and weirdly hot all at once. She licks a slow stripe up your cheek, collecting her own juices from your face with methodical thoroughness. Her tongue traces along your jaw, swipes across the corner of your mouth, cleans the wetness from around your lips. She's tasting herself on you, and the focused way she does it suggests this isn't the first time she's done something like this.
"What do you think?"
You consider the question while she continues her task, her tongue warm and soft against your skin. "Honestly? No one has ever licked my face before." You pause as she drags her tongue over the bridge of your nose where some of her arousal had somehow ended up. "But it feels good. Kind of intimate."
"Yeah?" She sounds pleased by that answer. "I think it's hot. Tasting myself on someone else. It's like marking my territory or something."
She finishes cleaning your face with a few more careful licks, then pulls back to examine her handiwork. Apparently satisfied that she's gotten everything, she takes a deep breath and stretches her arms over her head, her small breasts lifting with the motion.
"Okay. I'm good. We can continue." A wicked grin spreads across her face. "Time to drain those balls of yours. You've been so patient, you deserve a reward."
"How generous of you."
"I'm a giver." She shifts on the seat, considering the limited space available. "I want to try another position. The riding thing was great but I want you to really fuck me, you know? Like, actually pound me."
The logistics of achieving this in the backseat of a sedan prove to be somewhat challenging. There's a lot of awkward maneuvering, elbows bumping against windows and knees knocking against door handles, accompanied by muttered apologies and stifled laughter. Eventually, through a combination of creative positioning and sheer determination, you manage to get Gaeul arranged almost on all fours, her hands braced against the door and her knees on the seat, her ass raised and presented toward you where you kneel behind her.
The view is spectacular.
Her pussy is still swollen and wet from everything you've done, pink and glistening and slightly open from being stretched around your cock earlier. Above it, her tight little asshole is on full display, a darker pink pucker that clenches involuntarily as cool air hits it. Her panties are completely ruined at this point, the fabric bunched uselessly to one side, and her skirt is hiked up around her waist in a way that would be almost comical if it wasn't so unbelievably hot.
You grip your cock, still hard and aching from being neglected during the oral session, and position the head at her entrance. The first touch makes her shiver in anticipation. "Ready?"
"Been ready. Put it back in me."
You push forward and her body opens for you, her pussy accepting your cock with a slick, welcoming heat that makes you both groan. You slide in slowly, savoring the sensation of her walls stretching around your girth, until your hips meet her ass and you're buried to the hilt.
"Mmm." Gaeul sighs contentedly, pushing back against you. "Welcome home."
"Did you just welcome my dick home?"
"It lives there now. I've decided." She wiggles her hips, adjusting to the fullness. "Now are you gonna fuck me or what?"
You pull back and thrust forward, establishing a slow, steady rhythm. The angle in this position is different, deeper somehow, and you can feel the head of your cock pressing against her cervix with each stroke. Gaeul moans appreciatively, her fingers curling against the car door. "That's it. Just like that."
Your hands grip her hips, using them as leverage to pull her back onto your cock as you thrust forward. The pace is still measured, controlled, each stroke long and deliberate. You watch your cock disappear inside her over and over, her pussy lips clinging to your shaft like they're trying to keep you from leaving.
You reach down and spread her ass cheeks apart with your thumbs, opening her up even more. The view makes your cock throb inside her, the sight of her tight pink asshole and the way her pussy stretches obscenely around your thickness. She's so small and you're so big and the contrast is visual porn all on its own.
“You can go deeper,” she murmurs, the words coming out muffled with her cheek pressed against the car door. “I can take it. I want to feel every inch of you.”
You adjust your angle and thrust harder, punching deeper into her on each stroke. Her whole body jolts forward with the impact, a punched-out moan escaping her lips. You keep her ass spread open, watching yourself fuck her, the visual adding another layer to the already overwhelming sensation of her tight cunt gripping your cock.
"Harder." She demands, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "Come on, you're not gonna break me. Fuck me like you mean it."
Something in you snaps.
Your grip on her hips tightens and you start truly fucking her, abandoning the measured pace in favor of hard, deep strokes that make the entire car rock. Her ass jiggles with each impact, her tight hole clenching in response to the stimulation of being spread open.
"Yes, yes, yes, just like that, oh god..." She's babbling now, her composure completely shattered. "So deep, you're so fucking deep, I can feel you in my stomach."
The pressure is building at the base of your spine, that familiar tension that signals you're approaching the point of no return. You've been on edge for what feels like hours, between the video and the blowjob and watching her cum twice, and your balls are heavy and tight with the need to release. "I'm close." You manage to grunt out between thrusts. "Gaeul, I'm really fucking close."
"Inside." She doesn't hesitate. "Cum inside me. I have an IUD, it's fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Did I stutter?" She pushes back hard against you, taking you impossibly deep. "I want to feel you cum in me. Fill me up. Give me every drop." She looks back over her shoulder at you, her face flushed and her eyes dark with desire. "Cum deep inside me. I want it so bad. Want to feel you pulsing in my pussy, want to feel you filling me up with your hot cum. Please, I need it, need you to breed me..."
The dirty talk combined with the tight grip of her cunt is too much. You thrust forward one final time, burying yourself as deep as you can go and your cock pulses inside her, rope after rope of thick cum painting her insides white. The release is almost painful in its intensity, weeks of pent-up tension finally finding an outlet. You can feel her pussy milking you, rhythmic contractions that seem designed to pull every last drop from your balls. Your hips jerk involuntarily, grinding against her ass as you empty yourself into her welcoming body.
Gaeul cries out beneath you, her whole body trembling as her own orgasm hits. Her pussy clamps down on you so hard that it milks even more cum out of you, her walls fluttering wildly around your still-pulsing cock. She shakes and moans and pushes back against you, taking everything you have to give while falling apart herself.
The orgasms seem to go on forever, waves of pleasure crashing through both of you in tandem. Eventually the intensity fades, leaving you both panting and sweaty and utterly spent. You stay buried inside her for a long moment, neither of you willing to break the connection.
Finally, reluctantly, you pull out.
The sight that greets you is obscene in the best way. Her pussy is gaping slightly, thoroughly fucked, and a thick stream of your cum immediately begins to leak out of her. It drips down her thighs and onto the leather seat below, pooling in a way that's definitely going to leave a stain.
"Oh, gross." Gaeul looks back to survey the damage and wrinkles her nose. "That's gonna be a bitch to clean."
"Sorry."
"Don't be sorry, it was worth it. I'll deal with it later." She reaches down and swipes some of the leaking cum with her finger, then casually pops it in her mouth. "Okay, we should probably get dressed. We're definitely late at this point."
Getting clothes back on in the cramped backseat is somehow even more awkward than getting them off. There's a lot of fumbling with buttons and zippers, a brief search for Gaeul's bra (which had somehow ended up in the front passenger footwell), and a futile attempt to make your hair look like you haven't just been fucking in a car for the past forty-five minutes.
You both climb back into the front seats, slightly disheveled but technically presentable. Gaeul adjusts her rearview mirror and catches sight of herself, wincing at the state of her ponytail.
"We look like we just had sex."
"We did just have sex."
"I know, but I was hoping it wouldn't be so obvious." She shrugs and starts the car. "Whatever. If anyone asks, we got stuck in traffic.”
Gaeul starts the car, the engine purrs softly, and soon you’re back on the city streets. For a few minutes neither of you says anything. Gaeul keeps her eyes on the road, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift, eventually she sighs as she adjusts herself in the seat, the car idling at a red light. She looks contemplative, her freshly fucked hair still slightly disheveled despite her best attempts to fix it. Then she turns to you with an expression that suggests trouble:
"You know what?"
"What?"
"I just had sex but I'm still horny,” she admits, with all the honesty that only Gaeul could have. "Like, we literally just fucked in my backseat, you came inside me, I came three times, and I'm sitting here thinking about doing it again. What is wrong with me?"
You don't really have an answer for that.
"Don't get me wrong, you were great." She continues, tapping her fingers against the wheel. "Too great, even. That's kind of the problem. The vibe between us just... clicked. You know? Like, sometimes you hook up with someone and it's fine, it gets the job done, but it's just physical. But this felt different. There was like, an actual connection there."
"What does that mean exactly?" The light turns green and she accelerates, but her mind is clearly elsewhere.
"It means I want to skip work today." She glances at you sideways, gauging your reaction. "If you want to, of course. I'm not trying to pressure you. It's just... we're both excellent employees, right? We never miss work. We're like the most reliable people on the team. So if we take one day off, nobody's gonna die. The property listings will still be there tomorrow."
You consider this. Your body is still humming with residual arousal, your cock already starting to stir again just from this conversation. The memory of how she felt around you, tight and wet and eager, is fresh enough that it's making rational thought difficult.
"I can't deny that I'm still horny too."
"See?!" Gaeul's face lights up triumphantly. "I knew it! I could tell!" She extends her hand toward you, palm up, clearly expecting a high-five. You oblige. "We're sluts." She declares it like a badge of honor. "Well, I'm the slut, technically. You're more like the insatiable guy. The stud. Whatever the male equivalent is."
"I'm pretty sure there's a double standard at play here."
"Definitely. Society is bullshit. Anyway, what do you have in mind? For excuses, I mean. We need to call in."
"I hadn't really thought that far ahead."
"Okay, okay, I've got it." Her eyes brighten with mischief. "We tell them we were in an accident on the way to work. Nothing major, just a fender bender, but we have to deal with insurance and police reports and..."
"That seems a bit dramatic."
"You're right." She deflates slightly. "Plus we'd have to fake damage to my car and I just got this thing. Bad idea." She drums her fingers on the wheel, thinking. "Okay, new plan. I'll call and say I have something stuck in my throat." She pauses, then grins wickedly at the innuendo. "I've been coughing all morning, feels like I might be coming down with something. Very responsible of me to stay home so I don't infect the whole office."
"And me?"
"Same thing. We always have lunch together. Yesterday we sat side by side in the meeting room for hours, I probably infected you with whatever I have. Bad eggs. Tragic, really."
It's flimsy, but it might work. Neither of you have ever called in sick before, so you've probably got some goodwill built up.
"Alright. Let's do it."
The phone calls are brief and awkward, with Gaeul putting on a remarkably convincing raspy cough while explaining that she simply can't make it in today, she's so sorry, she'll definitely be back tomorrow. You wait a few minutes, then you follow suit with your own performance. Your manager sounds mildly suspicious but accepts the excuse without too much pushback.
"Perfect." Gaeul ends her call and immediately changes lanes, heading in the opposite direction of the office. "Operation skip work to fuck is officially a go."
The drive to her apartment takes about twenty minutes, during which Gaeul provides running commentary on the neighborhood (decent, not too expensive, close to good restaurants) and her building (old but well-maintained, friendly neighbors who mind their own business). She pulls into an underground parking garage and finds her designated spot, and then you're following her to the elevator and up to the fourth floor.
Her apartment is clean, organized, and tastefully decorated without being overly fussy. The living room has a comfortable-looking couch facing a modest TV, a bookshelf stuffed with novels and random knick-knacks, and a small dining table that's currently serving as a secondary desk based on the laptop and scattered papers.
"Make yourself at home." She kicks off her shoes and shrugs out of her blazer, draping it over one of the dining chairs. "I'll make coffee. You want coffee? I feel like this situation calls for coffee."
"Sure."
She disappears into the small kitchen and you hear the sounds of cabinet doors opening and a coffee machine starting up. You take a seat on the couch, looking around at the evidence of her life outside of work. A yoga mat rolled up in the corner. A stack of fashion magazines on the coffee table. A framed photo of her with a group of friends, all smiling at the camera.
Gaeul returns with two mugs, handing you one before settling onto the opposite end of the couch. She's pulled her hair out of its ponytail now, letting it fall around her shoulders.
"This is so cool." She takes a sip of her coffee, grinning at you over the rim. "Skipping work to have sex. I feel like a teenager again. A slutty, irresponsible teenager with no regard for her professional reputation."
"It is nice to change things up a bit."
"Right? We're always so responsible. Show up on time, meet our deadlines, never complain. It feels kind of liberating to just say fuck it for once." She stretches her legs out, her bare feet almost touching your thigh. "Pun intended."
You drink your coffee, enjoying the easy silence that falls between you. It's strange how comfortable this feels, sitting in your coworker's apartment after fucking her in her car, waiting to fuck her again. But Gaeul has a way of making everything seem normal.
"Okay." She finishes her coffee and sets the mug on the table. "Wait here for a minute. I want to change into something more appropriate for the occasion."
She disappears down the hallway and you hear a door close. You finish your own coffee, wondering what she considers appropriate for this particular occasion. When she reappears in the doorway, your eyes widen.
"Wow."
She's wearing red lingerie. Not the practical everyday stuff she had on in the car, but actual lingerie, the kind you see in Victoria's Secret catalogs.A lacy bralette that adds a bit of volume to her small breasts, the fabric sheer enough that you can see the outline of her nipples through it. Matching panties that sit high on her hips and dip low in the front.
"Is this a bit much for so early in the morning?" She does a little turn, letting you see the way the panties curve over her ass. "I bought this set ages ago but never had anyone to wear it for. Seemed like a waste."
"This is the best view I could have in the morning." You're not even trying to be smooth. It's just the truth. "Seriously. You look incredible."
"Flatterer." But she's clearly pleased, a pink flush spreading across her cheeks that matches the red of her lingerie. "Follow me."
She leads you down the hallway to her bedroom, which is just as neat and organized as the rest of her apartment. A queen-sized bed with a gray comforter, nightstands on either side, a dresser with a mirror above it. She stops at the foot of the bed and gestures at you.
"Make yourself comfortable. And by that I mean get naked."
You start unbuttoning your shirt, watching her watch you. The shirt comes off, then your undershirt, and her gaze tracks over your chest appreciatively. You unbuckle your belt and push your pants down, stepping out of them, until you're standing there in just your underwear.
The bulge is already prominent. Gaeul closes the distance between you, her bare feet padding softly on the carpet. She reaches up and cups your face in her hands, pulling you down to meet her lips.
Her hand slides down your chest, tracing over the muscles of your stomach before finding the bulge straining against your underwear. She palms your cock through the fabric, squeezing gently, and hums her approval into the kiss without breaking contact. The feel of her delicate fingers wrapped around you, even with a layer of cotton between you, sends a pulse of heat straight to your groin.
You walk her backward toward the bed, your lips still connected, one hand on the small of her back and the other tangled in her hair. The backs of her knees hit the mattress and she sits down automatically, finally breaking the kiss to look up at you. Her lips are swollen and wet, her eyes dark with want, and the red lace of her bralette frames her small breasts perfectly.
"Underwear off."
You hook your thumbs in the waistband and push down, letting your cock spring free. It bobs heavily between you, fully hard and already leaking from the tip, and Gaeul's gaze drops to watch with undisguised hunger. She reaches out and wraps her fingers around the shaft, stroking once, twice, spreading the precum along your length.
"Missed you." She's talking to your cock. Actually addressing it like an old friend. "It's been like, what, an hour? Way too long."
"You're ridiculous."
"And you're hard as a rock. Get on the bed."
You climb onto the mattress and settle against the pillows. This is so much better, so much more comfortable than the back seat of a car, and you’ll definitely take advantage of having more space to move around. Gaeul follows you, crawling up your body with a mischievous smile on her face.
She straddles your hips, sitting back on your thighs, and you can feel the heat of her pussy hovering just above your cock. Her panties are still on but she reaches down and pulls the fabric aside, exposing her pink folds, already glistening with arousal. Your cum from earlier has mostly been cleaned up but there's still a hint of it mixed with her wetness.
"Round three." She positions the head of your cock at her entrance, rubbing it through her slick folds. "Ready?"
"Absolutely."
She sinks down.
The sensation of entering her again is just as intense as the first time, that tight wet heat engulfing your cock inch by inch. She takes you slowly, savoring the stretch, her eyes fluttering closed as her body adjusts to your size. You watch yourself disappear inside her, the thick shaft spreading her open, until she's fully seated with your entire length buried in her pussy.
"God." She breathes out shakily. "That never gets old." Your hands find her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh above the waistband of her panties. You plant your feet flat on the mattress and thrust upward, using the leverage to fuck into her from below. The angle is perfect, driving you deep, and Gaeul gasps at the sudden movement. "Oh fuck."
The pleasure on her face is immediate, her expression shifting from composed to wrecked in the span of a single thrust. Her mouth falls open, her brow furrows, and she braces her hands on your chest as you establish a rhythm.
"This is so much better than working." She moans, her head tipping back. "Like, infinitely better. I could be answering emails right now. Instead I'm riding your cock in my bed. Best decision I've ever made."
"Glad you think so."
"I really, really do."
You thrust harder, snapping your hips up to meet her as she starts to move with you. The red bralette shifts with her movements, her nipples visibly hard through the thin fabric. She looks like something out of a fantasy, this gorgeous petite woman in red lingerie bouncing on your cock with her hair falling around her shoulders and her skin flushed pink with arousal. Your hands slide from her waist to her ass, grabbing handfuls of the firm flesh and using it to guide her movements. She responds by grinding down harder, rotating her hips in circles that make you see stars.
"You feel so good inside me." She gasps. "So fucking good. I can't believe I waited this long to fuck you. All those months working together and I had no idea you were hiding this monster in your pants."
"To be fair, you were hiding a pretty incredible body under those work clothes too."
"Aww, you're sweet." She rewards the compliment by clenching her pussy around you, a deliberate squeeze that makes your cock throb. "Keep the compliments coming and I'll keep doing that." You thrust up particularly hard and she cries out, her whole body jolting with the impact. "Or that." She manages breathlessly. "Keep doing that too."
The pace increases naturally, both of you chasing the pleasure that's building with every stroke. Gaeul is riding you in earnest now, bouncing on your cock with abandon, her small tits jiggling beneath the lace of her bralette. You watch the way her stomach flexes with each movement, the way her thighs tremble against your hips, the way her face contorts with pleasure every time you bottom out inside her.
"I'm gonna be thinking about this at work forever now." She's babbling again, that filter completely gone. "Every time I see you at your desk, I'm gonna remember how your cock feels stretching me open. Every meeting is gonna be torture. I'll be sitting there listening to quarterly reports and getting wet thinking about this."
"Same goes for me."
"Good. We can suffer together." She grinds down hard, taking you as deep as possible. "Maybe sneak off to the supply closet sometimes. Or the parking garage. I've always wanted to fuck in a parking garage."
"I thought you already did that."
"That was my car in a secluded area. A parking garage is different. More public. More risk of getting caught. The thrill is part of the fun."
You file that information away for later and focus on the present moment, on the tight grip of her pussy and the delicious friction of her body moving against yours. One hour ago you were standing in an elevator dreading another day at work. Now you're in your coworker's bed with your cock buried inside her while she moans about how much better this is than answering emails.
Gaeul leans forward, changing the angle, and you both groan at the shift in sensation. Her clit grinds against your pubic bone with each stroke now, adding another layer of stimulation that has her panting harder. The red lace of her bralette brushes against your chest, her face hovering close to yours, and you can feel her breath hot against your lips.
You maintain the rhythm, thrusting up into her with steady, powerful strokes that have the bed creaking beneath you. Gaeul's movements are becoming less coordinated now, her hips stuttering as the pleasure builds inside her. Her hands press flat against your chest for support, her fingers splayed wide, and you can see the tension coiling in her body with every passing second.
"Don't stop." She gasps. "Please don't stop, I'm getting close."
Your grip on her ass tightens, pulling her down harder onto your cock each time you thrust up. The red bralette has shifted during all her bouncing, the lace now barely covering her nipples. One small breast has almost escaped entirely, the pink peak visible above the edge of the fabric. She's a mess of flushed skin and tangled hair and desperate moans.
"Right there, right there, right there..." Her pussy clenches around you rhythmically, those involuntary contractions that signal she's teetering on the edge. You thrust harder, faster, giving her exactly what she needs.
"Cum for me." You tell her. "Let go."
"I'm gonna... oh fuck, I'm..."
She shakes on top of you, trembling uncontrollably, you feel her cumming around you, the rhythmic pulses of her inner walls milking your shaft, and a fresh flood of wetness coats your cock and drips down to your balls.
"Oh my god." She finally manages to breathe, collapsing forward onto your chest. "Oh my god, oh my god."
Her pussy is still twitching around you, little aftershocks that make your cock throb with need. You're painfully hard, nowhere near finished, and the sight of her completely wrecked on top of you is only making you more desperate to keep going.
You give her maybe thirty seconds to recover before the need becomes too much.
"New position."
"Huh?" She lifts her head, still looking dazed. "What?"
Instead of explaining, you wrap your arms around her waist and sit up, taking her with you. She squeaks in surprise, her legs automatically wrapping around your hips to hold on. Your cock is still buried inside her, the movement causing a delicious shift in angle that makes you both groan.
"What are you doing?"
You swing your legs off the bed and stand up, lifting her with you. She's so small, so light, that it's easy to hold her against your body with your cock still sheathed in her pussy. Her arms loop around your neck for balance.
"Oh, we're doing this." She sounds delighted. "Okay, I'm into it."
You carry her across the bedroom toward the window, each step causing friction that has her whimpering. The curtains are mostly drawn but there's a gap in the middle where the morning sunlight streams through. You position her back against the glass and she gasps at the cold contact on her heated skin.
"Fuck, that's cold." She adjusts her grip on your shoulders. "Are you gonna fuck me against my window?"
"That's the plan."
"Someone might see."
"Does that bother you?"
"Not even a little bit."
You pull your hips back, withdrawing almost completely, and then thrust forward hard. The force of it presses her harder against the glass and she cries out, her nails digging into your shoulders. You set a punishing pace immediately, fucking up into her with deep, powerful strokes that rattle the window in its frame.
"Holy shit." She gasps between thrusts. "This is... oh fuck, this is so hot."
The position is incredible. You're holding her up with just your arms and your cock, her entire weight supported by your body. Her legs are wrapped tight around your waist, her ankles crossed behind your back, and every thrust drives you impossibly deep inside her. The angle hits different spots than before, and from the way she's moaning, they're very good spots.
"You like that?" You grunt, maintaining the relentless pace. "Like being fucked against the window where anyone could look up and see?"
"Yes, yes, I love it." Her head tips back against the glass. "Don't stop." The cold of the window against her back contrasts sharply with the heat where your bodies are connected. You can see goosebumps rising on her skin, her nipples hard as diamonds beneath the red lace. Her small tits bounce with each thrust, the bralette doing almost nothing to contain them at this point. "Are you enjoying this?"
The question comes between moans. She's looking at you now, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure, a wicked smile playing at her lips despite the fact that she's being thoroughly fucked.
"Are you liking fucking your slut coworker?"
Something about hearing her call herself that makes your cock throb inside her. You thrust particularly hard in response, punching deep enough to make her cry out.
"Yeah." You manage. "Yeah, I really fucking am."
"Good." She moans, her pussy clenching around you. "Because I'm loving being your slut. Never knew you were hiding this beast in your work pants. Should've bent over your desk months ago, let you fuck me right there in the office."
The mental image of that has your hips stuttering momentarily before you recover and resume the brutal pace. She notices and grins. "You like that idea? Fucking me at work? Bending me over the copy machine and just taking what you want?"
"You're gonna be the death of me."
She tightens her legs around you, pulling you deeper. "I'm such a bad girl, right? Such a slut for cock. Your cock specifically. I can't believe how much I love it inside me."
Her words are driving you crazy. You shift your grip, one hand sliding down to cup her ass while the other braces against the window beside her head. The new leverage lets you fuck into her even harder, each thrust jolting her whole body.
"Look at me." She demands. "Look at me while you fuck me."
You meet her eyes and the connection is electric. She's completely open, completely exposed, taking everything you're giving her and begging for more. Her mouth falls open as you hit a particularly good angle, a moan escaping that sounds almost surprised.
"Right there, oh god, right there." You focus on that spot, angling your hips to hit it with every stroke. Her moans are getting louder, more desperate, and you're dimly aware that the window might not be doing much to muffle the sounds. If anyone is walking by on the street below, they're getting an earful. "Everyone's gonna know what a slut I am." She gasps, like she's reading your mind. "Gonna hear me getting fucked through the glass. Gonna know someone's using me like a toy."
"That turn you on? The idea of people hearing?"
"Everything about this turns me on." She clenches around you deliberately, making you groan. "You turn me on. Your cock turns me on. Being held up against this window while you rail me turns me on. I'm basically just a walking bundle of horniness at this point."
You lean forward and capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her next moan. She kisses back fiercely, her tongue tangling with yours, her hands fisting in your hair. The position is intense, demanding, requiring all your strength to maintain while still fucking her properly.
When you break the kiss, you're both breathing hard. "I can't believe we're doing this." She laughs breathlessly. "I can't believe this is my Wednesday. Calling in sick to get fucked by my coworker. Against my window. After already getting fucked in my car."
"Any regrets?"
"Zero. Absolutely none." She emphasizes the point by grinding down onto your cock. "Best sick day ever. We should do this every week. Make it a thing. Skip work every Wednesday and just fuck until we can't walk."
"HR might notice a pattern."
"HR can kiss my ass." She leans in close to your ear. "Speaking of which, if you want to fuck my ass later, you can. Fair warning."
The casual way she offers that makes your cock throb so hard you have to pause for a second to regain control. She feels it and laughs, clearly pleased with herself for affecting you that strongly.
"Just putting it on the table." She continues innocently. "Options are good. I like options."
"You're unbelievable."
"I know. It's part of my charm."
You resume fucking her with renewed vigor, and with a few more thrusts you feel her getting close again, her pussy fluttering around your cock in those telltale contractions that signal an approaching orgasm. Her moans have reached a fever pitch, her whole body trembling in your arms as you continue to pound into her against the window.
"Oh god, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum again." She gasps, her arms tightening around your neck. "Don't stop, please don't stop, I'm right there."
Your thighs are burning from the effort of holding her up while fucking her, your arms aching from supporting her weight, but none of that matters. The only thing that matters is driving her over that edge, watching her fall apart on your cock, so you angle your hips to hit that spot she likes, the one that makes her voice go high and desperate, and hammer into her with everything you have.
"Cum for me." You growl against her ear. "Let go. Let me feel you."
"I'm cumming, I'm cumming, oh fuck—"
Her eyes roll back in her head. The orgasm hits her so hard that her entire body seizes up against you. Gaeul clings to you desperately, her arms locked around your neck and her legs squeezing your waist, trembling so violently that you have to brace yourself against the window to keep from dropping her.
"Oh my god!" she screams with her face buried in your neck. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…"
You hold her through it, staying buried deep inside her as she shakes and spasms. Her pussy continues to flutter around you, milking your cock with involuntary clenches that make it very difficult to maintain any semblance of control. You're close, painfully close, but you hold back because you want to see what she does next.
Eventually, the tremors subside. Gaeul goes limp in your arms, breathing hard, her small body completely wrung out.
"Holy shit." She lifts her head to look at you with eyes glassy and unfocused. "That was... wow. I think I blacked out for a second there."
"You okay?"
"Better than okay. But my legs are definitely not gonna work for a while." She unwraps herself from around you carefully, testing her stability. "Put me down?" You lower her gently until her feet touch the floor, your cock sliding out of her in the process. She wobbles slightly, grabbing onto your arm for support, and lets out a breathless laugh. "Yeah, walking is not happening right now." She looks down at your cock, still rock hard and glistening with her juices. "But we're not done with you yet."
She lowers herself to her knees in front of you. From this angle, looking up at you with those bright eyes and flushed cheeks, she looks cute and almost innocent despite everything you've just done.
Her hands go to her bralette, finding the clasp at the back. "This is getting in the way."
She unhooks it and lets the red lace fall away, revealing her small breasts fully for the first time since you started. They're just as perfect as you remember from the car, barely a handful each, with nipples that are hard and pink from arousal. She tosses the bralette aside carelessly, not caring where it lands.
Then her hand wraps around your cock and she starts stroking. "I want you to cover my tiny tits with cum." She says it matter-of-factly. "Just paint me with it. What do you think of that idea?"
"I think I really, really like that idea."
"Good answer." She grins up at you, her hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes along your shaft. "I've been thinking about it since we left the car. How hot it would be to have your cum all over my chest. Marking me up."
Her free hand comes up to cup your balls, rolling them gently in her palm while she continues to stroke. The dual sensation makes your head fall back, a groan escaping your throat. She's good at this, reading your reactions and adjusting her technique accordingly. "God, you're so hard." She marvels, squeezing your shaft. "Still. After everything we've done. Is this thing ever satisfied?"
"Not when you're around, apparently."
"Flattery will get you everywhere." She twists her wrist on the upstroke, drawing out another groan. "I'd offer to give you a titjob, but..." She glances down at her own chest with a rueful smile. "There's not much to work with here. Kind of hard to wrap these around anything."
"It's still hot like this." You assure her, watching her small hand work your thick shaft. "Really fucking hot."
"Yeah?" She seems pleased by that. "You don't mind that I'm not more... endowed?"
"I told you before. Your body is perfect."
"You're sweet." She punctuates the word with a particularly good stroke that makes your hips jerk. "And you're leaking like crazy. Look at that."
She's right. Precum is beading steadily at the tip of your cock, dripping down over her fingers as she strokes. She swipes her thumb across the head, gathering the slickness, and uses it to lubricate her movements. Her other hand continues its work on your balls, massaging them with gentle pressure. She seems fascinated by them, rolling them between her fingers, tugging gently, watching your face to see what you like.
"These feel so full." She observes. "Like they're ready to burst. How much cum are you gonna give me?"
"A lot, if you keep doing that."
"That's the goal." She speeds up her strokes slightly, finding a rhythm that has your toes curling against the carpet. "I want all of it. Every drop. Right here on my tits." She glances down at her own chest again, at those small perfect breasts with their hard pink nipples. "They might be tiny, but they make a good target. You can probably cover them completely. Maybe get some on my neck too. My face, if you aim right."
"You want it on your face?"
"I want it everywhere. I want to be dripping with you.” Her hand picks up speed on your cock, her grip tightening just slightly as she works you with efficiency, and her other hand continues its relentless massage of your balls, rolling them, squeezing gently, coaxing out what's been building inside you. "Come on." She urges, her eyes locked on yours. "Give it to me. I want it so bad. Want your hot cum all over my little tits."
Her dirty talk shifts into something more needy, more pleading.
"Please, I need it. I've been such a good slut for you, haven't I? Let you fuck me in the car, fuck me in my bed, against the window. I've cum so many times on your cock. Now I want my reward."
Your balls are tightening, that familiar pressure building at the base of your spine. She can feel it, can feel how close you are from the way your cock throbs in her hand, and she redoubles her efforts.
"That's it, that's it." She pants, stroking faster. "I can feel how full these are. So much cum waiting for me. Gonna cover me completely. Gonna make such a mess of my tiny tits."
"Gaeul..."
"Do it. Cum for me. Use me like the little cumslut I am. Paint me with it."
Her hand moves with lightning speed on your shaft now, her grip perfect, her pace relentless. The pressure builds and builds until it becomes unbearable, until every nerve ending in your body is screaming for release.
"Please please please." She begs, looking up at you with those wide desperate eyes. "Give me your cum. I need it. Need to feel it on my skin. Need to be marked by you. Please, I'll do anything, just cum on me, cum all over me..."
You explode.
The first rope of cum shoots out with enough force that it hits her chin before splattering down across her collarbone. She gasps in delight but doesn't stop stroking, milking your cock through the orgasm as jet after jet of thick white cum erupts from the tip. The second spurt lands directly on her left breast, coating the small mound and dripping down over her hard nipple. The third catches her right breast, painting it with a pearly streak that runs down to pool in the valley between them.
"Oh fuck yes." She moans, still stroking. "So much. You're giving me so much."
She aims your cock deliberately, directing the spurts across her chest like she's painting a canvas. Her tiny tits are quickly becoming obscured beneath layers of your cum. It drips down her stomach, pools in her cleavage, runs in rivulets toward her navel.
"More." She demands, squeezing your shaft from base to tip to coax out the last drops. "Give me more. I want all of it."
Your cock pulses weakly, a few final spurts adding to the mess already covering her chest. She milks you until there's nothing left, until you're shuddering from oversensitivity, and even then she doesn't stop immediately. Her hand slows but continues moving, gentle now, working out every last drop.
"Look at me." She breathes, finally releasing your shaft to gesture at herself. "I'm covered. Absolutely covered. This is so hot."
She looks down at her own chest with something like wonder, running her fingers through the cum pooling between her breasts. It's everywhere, coating her from collarbone to navel, thick and white against her flushed skin. Her nipples are barely visible beneath the mess.
"I want a little more."
Before you can process what she means, her mouth closes around the head of your cock.
"Fuck, Gaeul, I'm sensitive..." She ignores the protest, her lips sealed tight around the crown as she sucks gently. Her tongue swirls around the tip, lapping at the slit where the last traces of cum are leaking out. The sensation is too much, your nerves raw and overstimulated, but she doesn't relent.
Her hands slide around to grab your ass, fingernails digging into the muscle as she pulls you closer. She takes more of you into her mouth, her head bobbing slowly, working you with patient determination. You're still half-hard from the intensity of your orgasm, and her attention is rapidly bringing you back to full mast. "Gaeul..." You groan, your hands finding her hair. "I just came."
She hums around your cock in acknowledgment but doesn't stop. On the contrary, she doubles down, sucking harder, her tongue doing something incredible along the underside of your shaft. Your fingers tighten in her hair involuntarily, and she moans at the slight pull.
The second orgasm builds faster than you expected, your body apparently having reserves you didn't know about. She can feel it happening, can feel your cock swelling in her mouth, and she looks up at you with those dark eyes as she works to push you over the edge again.
"Gonna cum." You warn her. "Gaeul, I'm gonna..." You grab her head with both hands and thrust forward, driving your cock deeper into her mouth. She takes it without complaint, her throat opening to accept you, her hands on your ass pulling you even closer. The orgasm crashes through you and you spill directly down her throat, pulsing against her tongue as she swallows everything you give her.
She doesn't pull off until she's milked every last drop from you, her throat working to swallow, her lips maintaining their seal until there's nothing left. When she finally releases you, it’s with a soft wet sound and a satisfied smile.
"Your cum tastes really good." She informs you, licking her lips. "Like, genuinely. Some guys taste awful but you're actually pleasant. Must be the diet."
You have absolutely nothing to say to that. Your legs are shaking, your entire body wrung out from back-to-back orgasms, and the only thing you can think to do is collapse backward onto the bed. The mattress catches you, soft and welcoming, and you lie there staring at the ceiling while your heart rate slowly returns to normal. Your cock is finally, blessedly softening, thoroughly satisfied after everything it's been through this morning.
You feel the bed dip as Gaeul climbs up beside you. She crawls into your lap, straddling your thighs, and settles her weight against you. The cum coating her chest is starting to get sticky. "That was great." She says simply, her hands resting on your stomach. "Like, really great. Top tier sex."
"Yeah." You agree, still slightly dazed. "It really was."
She leans down and gives you a soft kiss. Her lips taste faintly of you and you don’t mind at all. Gaeul doesn’t hesitate to press her mouth against yours again, like it’s something you do all the time. When she pulls back, she pushes gently on your chest until you're lying flat on your back. Then she stretches out on top of you, her small body fitting perfectly against yours, her head tucked into the curve of your neck. Her cum-covered breasts press against your chest, warm and slick, and she makes no move to clean herself off.
"Let's stay like this for a little while." She murmurs against your skin. "Just cuddling. We have all day to have more sex. Let's take advantage of the day off and sleep a little. I'll make lunch later. Then we can continue. Fuck all day if we want. We've got nowhere to be. Nobody expecting us. Just you and me and this bed." She yawns. "And maybe the shower later. I've never had sex in my shower. Could be fun to try."
"Sounds like a plan."
"Mmm." She snuggles closer, one leg hooking over yours. "You're comfortable. Like a warm pillow. A warm pillow with a huge dick."
"That’s the most beautiful compliment I’ve ever received.”
"You're welcome." Your hand comes up to stroke her hair, running your fingers through the dark strands that have fallen loose around her face. She sighs at the touch. "That feels nice." She mumbles, her eyes already drifting closed. "Keep doing that."
You continue the gentle stroking, feeling her melt under your touch as the last of the tension slips out of her. Gaeul’s breathing gradually steadies, until her body grows heavy against yours and sleep finally takes her. Your cum is drying on her chest, warm and sticky between you, but neither of you bothers to move or clean up. That can wait.
After all, like she said, you’ve got the whole day ahead of you.
—
The day draws to a close and you find yourself standing in Gaeul's living room wearing the same clothes you arrived in this morning.
They're slightly wrinkled now, carrying the evidence of being hastily removed and put back on multiple times, but they're presentable enough. Gaeul, by contrast, has changed into the most comfortable thing she apparently owns: an oversized loose shirt that hangs past her thighs and shorts that are easily three sizes too big, bunched at the waist and falling past her knees.
She looks like a boy.
A very satisfied, very relaxed boy who spent the entire day getting fucked.
"That was a great day." She sighs contentedly, padding barefoot across her apartment to grab a glass of water. "Like, genuinely one of the best days I've had in months. Maybe years. We should do this more often."
"I wouldn't object to that."
"Good. It's settled then." She takes a long drink, then sets the glass down. "Anyway, I'll see you at work tomorrow. Try to look less thoroughly fucked than you do right now. HR will have questions."
Before you can respond, there's a knock at the door. Gaeul frowns, glancing toward the entrance with confusion.
"Who could that be?" She crosses to the door and pulls it open, and the woman standing on the other side immediately pushes past her into the apartment. She's tall, significantly taller than Gaeul, with long legs showcased by a short dress. A purse hangs from her shoulder and her expression is somewhere between annoyed and stressed.
"Why haven't you answered any of my messages?" She asks, clearly on edge, as she steps into the living room, not even looking around until she's already several steps inside. Then she spots you and stops abruptly. "Oh." Her eyes sweep over you with obvious assessment. "I didn't know you had company."
Gaeul closes the door and moves to stand between you. "This is my friend from work." She gestures toward you. "And this is Yujin. She lives in the building. She's a friend of mine.” No, it can’t be her… or can it?
“The same one from the sextape, by the way." Gaeul adds, confirming what you already suspected.
Yujin's head snaps toward her. "Hey, what?!"
"Oh, shit, right." Gaeul winces slightly, rubbing the back of her neck. "I completely forgot that we had arranged to have sex today. My bad. Things got... complicated this morning."
Yujin's gaze slides back to you. She looks you up and down again, this time with a knowing smirk. "Ah. I see why."
"I was just leaving, actually." You take a step toward the door, sensing that you've probably overstayed your welcome. "I'll let you two..."
"Wait." Gaeul holds up a hand to stop you. "Since you're both here anyway, we could easily make this a threesome. Could be fun. The more the merrier and all that."
Yujin's smirk vanishes instantly. "I'm not fucking him, sorry.”
"That's fine." You shrug, already reaching for your jacket. "You're not even my type."
The living room becomes still. Yujin turns to you, her face changing from unconcerned to openly offended in about two seconds flat.
"Excuse me? Are you crazy, blind, or both?" She gestures at herself with indignation. "I'm everyone's type. Look at me. I'm perfect. I have perfect bone structure, perfect proportions, perfect everything. People should ask for permission before even looking at me."
"It's not about looks." You reply calmly. "It's about personality. You seem kind of narcissistic."
"I am not..." She turns to Gaeul, clearly expecting backup. "Tell him. Tell him I'm his type and that I'm not narcissistic."
Gaeul winces again, looking genuinely apologetic. "I don't actually know what his type is, so I can't really speak to that." She pauses, then adds: "And honestly? You are kind of narcissistic. Like, a lot narcissistic. You spent twenty minutes last week talking about how good you look in natural lighting."
“That’s not…” Yujin sputters for a moment, then straightens her spine, reclaiming her dignity. “It doesn’t matter. I’m perfect, so I have every right to be a Marxist.”
"Marxist." You repeat slowly.
"I-I didn't say that."
"You definitely did." Gaeul interjects. "You said Marxist. I have big ears, I heard it clearly. You swapped narcissist for Marxist."
Yujin opens her mouth to argue, then seems to think better of it. "You know what? Fuck it. I am a Marxist too, okay? Can’t a girl be hot and politically aware anymore?" She crosses her arms defiantly. "Tax the rich. Feed the poor. Seize the means of production. Whatever. Can we move on?"
Gaeul claps her hands together, pleased that the argument is dying down. "Great! So we can either continue this fascinating political discussion out here, or we can all go to my bedroom and have a lot of fun. Your choice."
“Hey, hey, wait a second,” Yujin says. “Are you not going to explain this whole thing about you showing our video to some random nobody? I didn’t consent to that.”
"Here's what happened. I accidentally showed him our video this morning in the car. I just opened the video player and the video started playing out of nowhere. We talked about it, one thing led to another, and we ended up skipping work to fuck all day." She gestures between you and Yujin. "I've mentioned him to you before. He's my best friend at work. And I've mentioned you to him. So now seems like a good time for you two to actually meet properly. Without the hostility."
Yujin sighs heavily. "Fine. Whatever." She eyes you again, though with less animosity this time. "I hope your dick is at least big. I have standards."
"Well, it's bigger than yours."
She scoffs. "I highly doubt that."
You pause, processing the implication of her response. "Wait. Do you actually have a cock?"
"Obviously." She rolls her eyes like you've asked the stupidest question imaginable. "I never leave the house without it." Then she reaches into her purse and pulls out a strap-on, dangling it from one finger like it's a set of car keys.
"Okay, that was... unexpected."
"Just wait until you feel it in your ass, bitch."
"Nobody's fucking my ass today, sweetie."
"Sucks to be you. My ass is ready for it!" Gaeul raises her hand cheerfully, volunteering her own body for the cause.
Yujin nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm definitely fucking Gaeul's ass today. That was the original plan before you showed up and derailed everything."
"Actually, Gaeul promised me her ass earlier." You counter, remembering the offer she made against the window. "So technically I have dibs."
"What? You can't call dibs on someone's ass!"
"I just did."
"Okay, okay." Gaeul steps between you again, hands raised in a peacekeeping gesture. "I'm very flattered that you're both fighting over my ass, truly, but there's no need for conflict." She smiles brightly. "I can share. There's enough of me to go around. No fighting, please. We're all adults here."
Yujin and you exchange a look. It's not friendly, exactly, but it's not openly hostile anymore either. More like two people silently agreeing to a temporary truce for the sake of a mutual goal.
The three of you make your way down the hallway to Gaeul's bedroom, the same room where you spent most of the afternoon. The bed is still slightly rumpled from earlier activities, and Gaeul doesn't bother straightening it before turning to face you both.
"Do you want to listen to music during sex? Or an audiobook? I don't know." She taps her chin thoughtfully. "I went out with an architecture student once and he put on this audiobook about modern urbanization. There was this whole section about hostile architecture in big cities, you know, those benches designed so homeless people can't sleep on them and spikes in doorways and stuff. And I don't know what happened but something about it just got to me, and I ended up crying while I was having an orgasm. It was a very confusing experience."
You and Yujin look at each other again.
"No music." You say firmly.
"Agreed." Yujin nods. "No audiobooks either. Or podcasts. Or ambient noise. Just silence."
"Suit yourselves." Gaeul shrugs, already pulling her oversized shirt over her head to reveal bare skin underneath. She hadn't been wearing a bra. "I thought it might set the mood, but whatever."
You start unbuttoning your shirt, fingers working the same buttons you fastened just half an hour ago. Yujin does the same across the room, unzipping her dress and letting it pool at her feet. Underneath, she's wearing matching lingerie in deep purple. She extracts the strap-on from her purse with the casual ease of someone retrieving their phone or keys, tossing it onto the bed where it bounces once on the rumpled sheets. It's impressive, you have to admit. Sleek purple silicone, substantial in both length and girth, with a leather harness that looks well-worn from use. She catches you looking and smirks.
"Jealous?"
Before you can respond, she's already turned away, her attention shifting entirely to Gaeul, who at this point is already completely naked. She crosses the space between them in two long strides and pulls her friend into a kiss that's nothing like the ones you shared with Gaeul throughout the day. This is aggressive, possessive, Yujin's hand fisting in Gaeul's hair to tilt her head back while her other hand slides immediately between Gaeul's thighs.
Gaeul makes a soft sound against Yujin's mouth, her legs parting automatically to allow access. From where you're standing, you can see Yujin's fingers working between her legs, stroking through folds that are already glistening with arousal. Apparently, Gaeul's body doesn't need much prompting after the day you've had together.
"Already wet." Yujin murmurs against Gaeul's lips. "Were you thinking about me, or did your work friend do this to you?"
Yujin laughs, then releases Gaeul with a gentle push toward the bed. "Go lie down. I need to have a word with your new toy."
Gaeul obeys without argument, climbing onto the mattress and settling against the pillows. Her eyes stay fixed on you and Yujin, watching with obvious interest as she stalks toward you. Yujin stops when she's inches away, close enough that you can smell her perfume and feel the warmth radiating off her skin. You’re both only in your underwear, and this whole intimidation game suddenly feels a lot sexier because of it. Then Yujin leans in until your noses are almost touching, her dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that's slightly unnerving.
"You'd better not ruin everything tonight."
"I expect the same from you."
There’s a moment where her expression gives something away. Interest, perhaps. Or grudging respect. Yujin is not easy to read.
Then she's kissing you. And it's nothing like kissing Gaeul. Where Gaeul was warm and playful and eager, Yujin is demanding and slightly mean. Her teeth catch your lower lip and bite down hard enough to sting, and when you hiss in response she pulls back with a satisfied smile.
Then she slaps you across the face. Your head snaps to the side from the impact. Your cheek stings, heat blooming across the skin, and when you turn back to look at her she's already pointing toward the bed.
"Lie down, bitch."
"You probably shouldn't hit people without asking first." Gaeul comments, mild and conversational.
Yujin doesn't even look at her.
"Shut up, or you're next."
"Actually." Gaeul sounds entirely too cheerful about this. "I'd kind of like that."
Now Yujin does turn, and the smile that spreads across her face is genuinely delighted, dimples appearing in her cheeks that transform her from intimidating to almost adorable for a split second. She crosses to the bed in three quick strides and delivers a slap to Gaeul's face that makes her friend gasp, her cheek immediately flushing red.
"Better?"
"Much." Gaeul grins despite (or maybe because of) the handprint forming on her skin. "Thank you."
"You're both insane." You observe, climbing onto the bed as instructed.
"Probably." Yujin agrees, not sounding remotely bothered by the assessment. "Now lie flat. Gaeul, mount him. I want to watch you take that cock."
You take off your boxes and settle onto your back, your erection already at full mast from watching their exchange. Gaeul moves immediately, swinging one leg over your hips to straddle you, her wet pussy hovering just above your shaft. She reaches down to grip your cock, positioning the head at her entrance, and sinks down with a ease that speaks to how many times you've been inside her today.
"Welcome back." She sighs contentedly as you fill her. "Missed you."
Yujin climbs onto the bed, and for a moment you think she's going to join Gaeul, maybe kiss her or play with her breasts. Instead, she swings her leg over your chest and keeps moving until she's positioned above your face, her back to you, facing Gaeul. Her purple panties are the only thing between your mouth and her pussy.
"I'm going to sit on your face." She announces, as if this wasn't already obvious. "And you're going to do a good job down there. Most men are absolute garbage in bed. Selfish, lazy, no technique whatsoever. You look like a fucking NPC, honestly. Basic as hell. But Gaeul seems to like you, so I'm hoping you're at least decent."
"You talk a lot."
She reaches back and grabs your hair, twisting hard enough to make your scalp sting.
"And you don't talk nearly enough. Save your mouth for something useful." She pulls her panties aside with her free hand, exposing her pussy directly above your face. She's neatly trimmed, her folds already glistening with arousal, and before you can prepare yourself she's lowering down onto your mouth.
The taste of her hits your tongue immediately. Different from Gaeul, muskier and more intense, with a tang that's distinctly her own. You start licking automatically, tracing through her folds, finding her clit and circling it with the tip of your tongue. Above you, you hear her sharp intake of breath.
"Oh. Okay. That's... not terrible."
Gaeul chooses that moment to start moving, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm that drives your cock in and out of her tight heat. The dual sensation is overwhelming, your tongue buried in Yujin's pussy while your cock is buried in Gaeul's, pleasure assaulting you from both directions simultaneously.
You can't see anything except Yujin's ass and thighs bracketing your head, but you can hear everything. Gaeul's soft moans as she rides you, the wet sounds of your cock sliding in and out of her. Yujin's increasingly heavy breathing as you work her clit. The creak of the bed beneath the combined weight of three bodies moving together.
"He's actually pretty good at this." Yujin sounds almost annoyed to admit it. "His tongue, I mean. I don't know about his dick."
"His dick is amazing." Gaeul responds between gasps. "Trust me. I've been riding it all day."
"All day? No wonder you forgot about our plans."
"Sorry. Got distracted by the massive cock."
"Understandable, I suppose."
You focus on eating Yujin's pussy with determination, partly because it feels good and partly because you want to prove that you're more than decent. Your tongue traces patterns through her folds, circling her clit before dipping lower to probe at her entrance. Her body responds in a different way than Gaeul’s does. Where Gaeul is vocal and reactive, Yujin seems to be fighting her own pleasure, her thighs tensing against your head every time you hit a particularly good spot.
Above you, you hear the unmistakable sound of kissing. They're making out while they use you, Gaeul bouncing on your cock and Yujin grinding on your face while their mouths meet somewhere above your field of vision.
Gaeul's pussy clenches around you as she shifts her angle, taking you deeper. Her pace is increasing, her movements becoming more urgent, and you thrust up to meet her, driving your cock as deep as it will go, and she cries out against Yujin's mouth.
"Fuck, that's good." Yujin breathes. "Keep going. Both of you. Don't you dare stop.”
You redouble your efforts on Yujin's pussy, your tongue working through her slick folds with a focused determination. You're finding her rhythm, learning what makes her breath catch, when suddenly she pushes her hips back further, angling herself differently above your face.
"Get my ass too." She says it as lightly as asking for the salt.
Her cheeks spread slightly with the new position, exposing her tight pink asshole just above your nose. You don't hesitate. Your tongue drags lower, tracing from her pussy up to that puckered ring, and you hear her sharp intake of breath when you make contact.
"Fuck. Okay. You're not completely useless."
High praise, apparently.
You grab her ass with both hands, spreading her cheeks wider to give yourself better access. The view is obscene from this angle (not that you can see much with your face buried between her thighs, but you can feel everything). Her asshole clenches against your tongue when you press against it, then relaxes as you work her open with patient, insistent strokes. You alternate between her holes, eating her pussy until she's grinding down on your face, then moving up to rim her ass until her thighs start trembling.
Meanwhile, Gaeul is bouncing on your cock madly. You can feel sweat dripping from somewhere above, either hers or Yujin's, landing on your chest and stomach as the three of you work together in this absurd, wonderful configuration.
"I don't know how I'm gonna function at work tomorrow." Gaeul's voice is strained, breathless, punctuated by the wet sounds of her pussy taking your cock over and over. "I've been having sex for like... god, how many hours? My legs are gonna be destroyed. My boss is gonna ask why I'm walking funny and I'm gonna have to lie and say I went to the gym."
"Then stop." Yujin suggests ironically.
"I can't stop." Gaeul whines. "It feels too good. His cock is like... I can't explain it. I physically cannot stop riding it." She proves her point by grinding down particularly hard, taking you to the hilt, and the sensation makes your hips buck up involuntarily. Your tongue stutters against Yujin's asshole and she makes a sound of displeasure. "Focus down there, bitch."
You spread her cheeks even wider and push your tongue against her ass. There's something deeply satisfying about the way she's responding, the way her composure is finally starting to crack. She was so dismissive of you earlier, so convinced you'd be garbage in bed, and now she's dripping onto your chin and her thighs are shaking and she can't quite keep the pleasure out of her voice when she speaks.
Gaeul's movements are becoming erratic above you, her rhythm faltering as she chases her peak. You can feel her pussy clenching around your cock, those telltale contractions that signal she's getting close. Her nails are probably leaving marks on your thighs where she's gripping for leverage.
"I'm close." She gasps. "Fuck, I'm so close, I'm gonna..."
"Wait,” Yujin cuts her off. "Wait for me. I'm almost there."
"Yujin, I can't..."
"You can and you will! You don't cum until I tell you to."
Gaeul whimpers, but her movements slow slightly. You can feel her fighting it, her pussy clenching and releasing around your cock as she tries to hold back the orgasm that's threatening to crash through her. Above you, Yujin reaches out, and you feel the shift in weight as she and Gaeul join hands for balance.
"Make me cum." The instruction is directed at you. "Quickly. She can't hold it much longer and I refuse to finish after her." You abandon her asshole entirely and focus all your attention on her pussy. Your tongue finds her clit and works it relentlessly, circling and flicking and sucking, using every technique you've learned today. Her thighs clamp around your head as the pleasure builds, her grip on your hair tightening to the point of pain.
"That's it." She pants above you. "That's it, keep going, don't stop, I'm right there..."
Gaeul is practically sobbing now, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. "Yujin, please, I can't, I really can't..."
"Almost... almost..."
You suck hard on Yujin's clit and push two fingers inside her pussy without warning, curling them against her front wall. The unexpected penetration combined with the suction seems to be exactly what she needs, because her entire body goes rigid above you. She cums with a sharp cry, her pussy clamping down on your fingers while her clit throbs against your tongue. You taste the fresh flood of her arousal, tangy and warm, and you lap it up greedily as she shakes and gasps through the waves of pleasure.
"Now." She manages to choke out. "You can cum now."
Gaeul screams. It's loud and completely uninhibited, her orgasm hitting the moment Yujin gives permission. Her pussy clamps down on your cock hard, rhythmic contractions that pulse around your shaft as she cums and cums and cums.
And then she squirts.
A sudden rush of hot liquid soaking your lower stomach and thighs. She's gushing around your cock, her body convulsing with the intensity of her release, her screams dissolving into broken whimpers as the orgasm tears through her. "Oh my god, oh fuck, it's too much, I can't..."
She pulls off your cock abruptly, the sudden loss of her tight heat making you groan. She's shaking so hard she can barely stay upright, and she reaches out to lean on Yujin for support. The problem is that Yujin is still weak from her own orgasm, her body trembling and her limbs unsteady. When Gaeul's weight shifts against her, she doesn't have the strength to support it.
"Wait, I can't—"
They both lose their balance simultaneously.
Gaeul goes tumbling off the side of the bed with a yelp, landing on the carpet with a soft thud. Yujin manages to catch herself on the headboard, barely avoiding the same fate, but Gaeul is gone.
"Gaeul?" You push yourself up on your elbows. "You okay?"
There's a moment of silence.
Then laughter. Bright, genuine, slightly hysterical laughter floating up from the floor. "I'm great." Her head appears over the edge of the mattress. "I just can't feel my legs. At all. I think you broke them."
She crawls back onto the bed rather than attempting to stand with movements uncoordinated and clumsy. She's still giggling as she makes her way toward you, and when she reaches your face she immediately dips down and starts licking. Her tongue traces over your chin, your cheeks, your lips, cleaning off the mess that Yujin left behind. She's tasting her friend on you, making soft sounds of appreciation as she works.
"Mmm. She tastes good."
"I know." Yujin has recovered enough to watch with interest. "I'm delicious."
"Modest, too."
Yujin rolls her eyes but moves to join her, positioning herself on your other side. Her tongue finds a spot Gaeul missed, dragging across the corner of your jaw, and suddenly you have two women licking your face clean in tandem.
It should be weird. It is weird. But it's also incredibly hot, their tongues working in counterpoint, occasionally meeting in the middle for a brief kiss before returning to their task. They're thorough, making sure they get every drop of Yujin's arousal from your skin.
When they're finally satisfied that you're clean, they turn toward each other and kiss, two women who clearly know each other's mouths intimately. Gaeul cups Yujin's face in her hands while Yujin's fingers tangle in Gaeul's messy hair. They share the taste of Yujin's cum between them, tongues sliding together in lazy exploration. You lie there watching, your cock still hard and aching, as two of the most beautiful women you've ever seen make out inches from your face.
Yujin pulls back from the kiss with Gaeul with a thin strand of saliva connecting their lips for a moment before breaking. She turns to look at you, that smug expression firmly in place, and tilts her head. "You like watching that?"
"It's not bad at all." You shrug, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Get me a bucket of popcorn and I could stay here comfortably. Maybe some Junior Mints."
"Funny." She says dismissively, but then she smiles and adds: "Okay, you'll like this then."
She doesn't need to say anything to Gaeul. They just move together like they've done this a thousand times before (which they probably have). Gaeul shifts closer and tilts her head back, opening her mouth wide. Her tongue extends slightly, waiting.
Yujin leans over her.
She spits slowly, deliberately, letting the saliva stretch from her lips before it lands on Gaeul's waiting tongue. The strand of spit descends in a perfect line, pooling in Gaeul's open mouth, and then Yujin closes the distance between them and seals their lips together.
The kiss is wet and filthy, the two of them sharing Yujin's spit between their mouths while you watch. When they finally separate, a mess of saliva connecting them, Yujin reaches up and wipes Gaeul's lower lip clean with her thumb. The gesture is somehow tender, contradicting everything about her abrasive personality.
"Good girl." Yujin murmurs. Gaeul practically glows at the praise.
Then Yujin is all business again, climbing off the bed and crossing to Gaeul's dresser. She opens the top drawer with the confidence of someone who knows exactly where everything is kept, rummaging for a moment before emerging with a bottle of lubricant.
"Time to start preparing this tight little ass." She announces, tossing the bottle in the air and catching it. "Here's the plan. I fuck Gaeul's ass first while you take her pussy. Then we switch. Everyone gets a turn everywhere. Sound good?"
You look at the strap-on still lying on the bed, then at Gaeul's petite body, then back at Yujin. "Yeah. Sounds good to me."
"I'm so happy you two are getting along now." Gaeul beams at both of you from her position on the bed. "See? I knew you'd like each other eventually."
"I can be quite diplomatic when it comes to sex." Yujin says, already climbing back onto the mattress with the lube in hand. "Speaking of which, what are you still doing lying around? On all fours. Now!"
Gaeul scrambles to comply, positioning herself in the center of the bed with her hands and knees on the mattress. Her ass is raised and presented, that tight little hole on display. Yujin settles behind her, popping the cap on the lubricant.
"At least her ass is used to this." She comments, squeezing a generous amount onto her fingers. "Makes my job easier. First time I fucked her back here, she was so tight I thought I was gonna break her."
"You almost did." Gaeul says. "I couldn't sit properly for two days."
"You loved every second of it."
"I did. Still do."
Yujin's slicked fingers make contact with Gaeul's asshole, circling the puckered ring with ease. Despite her harsh demeanor, her movements are careful, methodical. She's not rushing this. She presses one finger against the tight entrance and eases it inside slowly, watching Gaeul's body language for any signs of discomfort.
"How do you two know each other?" You ask suddenly. You're genuinely curious. Their dynamic is so easy, so practiced, that they've clearly been doing this for a while.
"Yujin moved into the building a few months ago." Gaeul starts, her breath hitching slightly as Yujin adds a second finger. "I was, ah, I was very welcoming. Helped her settle in. Showed her where the good takeout places were, introduced her to the super, that kind of thing."
"She was annoyingly friendly." Yujin adds, working her fingers in a slow scissoring motion. "I'm used to neighbors who ignore each other. She kept showing up with cookies and wine."
"One time, she showed up at my door drunk and crying."
Yujin's hand pauses momentarily. "We don't need to..."
"Her boyfriend had just broken up with her." Gaeul continues, ignoring the warning. "She was a mess. Could barely stand. I brought her inside and we talked for hours. I just held her and let her vent."
"She was very kind about it." Yujin admits quietly, resuming her preparation. "I was being pathetic and she didn't judge."
"One thing led to another, and..." Gaeul trails off with a meaningful glance back at Yujin. "We ended up having sex that night. Grief sex, I guess. And then we just... never stopped."
Yujin’s palm lands against Gaeul’s ass cheek with a sharp slap. “Stop telling people our private business.
"He's not people, he's practically my boyfriend at this point."
“Your first time with him was just hours ago."
“And it felt completely natural, like we’d been fucking for years.”
Yujin rolls her eyes but doesn't argue further, returning her attention to the task at hand. She's up to three fingers now, working them in and out of Gaeul's ass with patient, thorough strokes. The lube makes everything slick and easy, and Gaeul's body is accepting the intrusion without resistance.
Despite her meanness, it's obvious Yujin genuinely cares about not hurting Gaeul. She keeps checking in with small touches to Gaeul's lower back, adjusting her angle when Gaeul tenses even slightly, adding more lube whenever there's the slightest hint of friction.
"Okay." Yujin finally announces, withdrawing her fingers and wiping them on the sheets. "I think we're ready."
She stands up on the bed (slightly wobbly on the soft surface) and steps into the harness of the strap-on, pulling it up her thighs and tightening the straps until the purple silicone juts out proudly from her hips. She gives it an experimental stroke, checking the positioning, then nods in satisfaction.
"Get under her." She instructs you, gesturing at the space beneath Gaeul. "Face up. I want to be able to see both of you."
You maneuver yourself into position, sliding beneath Gaeul's suspended body until your cock is lined up with her dripping pussy. She looks down at you with those bright eyes and her hair falling around her face.
"Just to remind you both." She says quietly. "This is my first time doing double penetration."
"Wait, really?" You pause, suddenly more concerned about taking this slow.
"Really." She nods. "I've done anal plenty of times, obviously. And I've had threesomes before. But never both holes at once. So just... go slow at first? Please?"
"We've got you." Yujin's voice is uncharacteristically gentle as she positions herself behind Gaeul. "Just relax and let us do the work. If anything hurts, say something."
You reach up to grip Gaeul's hips, holding her steady as you guide the head of your cock to her entrance. At the same time, you feel the bed shift as Yujin kneels behind her, the tip of the strap-on pressing against Gaeul's well-prepared asshole.
"On three." Yujin says. "One... two..."
You both push forward simultaneously. Gaeul gasps, her whole body going rigid between you. Her eyes roll back slightly and she trembles, caught between the sensation of your cock sliding into her pussy and Yujin's strap pressing into her ass. You go slow, giving her time to adjust, feeling her walls stretch to accommodate you.
"Oh my god." She breathes. "Oh my god, that's... that's a lot."
"Too much?"
"No, it's... just give me a second."
You hold still, fighting the urge to thrust up into her tight heat. You can feel the pressure of the strap-on through the thin wall separating her pussy from her ass. Yujin is going just as slowly, easing forward in increments, letting Gaeul's body adjust to being so thoroughly filled.
"So tell me about work,” Yujin says casually.
"What do you mean?" you ask.
"Your work relationship." She clarifies, still slowly pressing deeper. "Gaeul talks about you all the time. Her best friend at the office. Apparently you cover for her when she needs to leave early, bring her coffee when she's stressed. Very knight in shining armor."
"I wouldn't say..."
"He's really sweet." Gaeul manages. "We started on the same day, actually. New hire orientation together. He was so nervous, it was adorable."
"I was not adorable."
"You were very adorable." She insists, her body slowly relaxing around you as the conversation continues. "You spilled coffee on your shirt and tried to hide it with your notebook. And then I showed you where the secret bathroom was, the one that's always empty on the third floor, and you looked at me like I'd given you the keys to the kingdom."
Yujin snorts. "That's pathetic."
"It was endearing." Gaeul corrects. "And then today, after the whole video thing, I just... I don't know. Something clicked. Like, why have we been dancing around this for months when we could have been doing this the whole time?"
"Because normal coworkers don't fuck in parking lots,” you say.
"Our loss. Hey, by the way, I was thinking about dyeing my hair pink. Opinions? Would it look good on me, or would I look like some random K-pop idol?”
“I think it’d be really pretty on you,” you comment.
“Dye it,” Yujin grins. “You’re gonna be so fucking cute, and the cuter you get, the more I’m gonna want to fuck you hard.”
Before you fully register the shift, both you and Yujin are completely buried inside her. Your cock is sheathed to the hilt in her pussy, Yujin's strap-on fully seated in her ass, and Gaeul is sandwiched between you with tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." She nods with a trembling smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm really okay. Just... full. Really, really full.”
You begin to move first, a slow experimental thrust upward that makes Gaeul whimper. A second later, Yujin matches your rhythm, pulling back as you push in, then driving forward as you withdraw. The coordination takes a moment to find, the two of you adjusting to each other's pace, but once you sync up the effect on Gaeul is immediate and devastating.
"Oh fuck." She gasps, her arms trembling where they support her weight. "Oh fuck, that's... you're both..."
"Good girl." Yujin says reassuringly. "Such a good girl, letting us use you like this. Taking both of us at once like the perfect little slut you are."
The rhythm builds slowly, neither of you rushing. Every thrust fills Gaeul completely, your cock buried in her pussy while Yujin's strap stretches her ass, and the thin wall between the two passages means you can feel the pressure of the silicone against your shaft with every movement. It's an unfamiliar sensation but an incredible one.
Yujin reaches down and grabs Gaeul's ass cheeks, spreading them wide to give herself a better angle. This position lets her drive deeper, and you watch (from your vantage point beneath Gaeul's suspended body) as the purple strap disappears into that tight ring over and over. Yujin's fingers dig into the soft flesh, leaving red marks, and Gaeul moans louder at the combination of sensations.
"Look at you." Yujin murmurs, still spreading her open. "Taking it so well. Both holes stuffed full and you're just begging for more. Did you know you could be this slutty?"
"I suspected."
"Mmm. I'm glad we're confirming it."
Yujin releases one of Gaeul's cheeks and reaches up to her own chest, fumbling with the clasp of her bra. The purple lace comes undone and she shrugs it off her shoulders, letting it fall somewhere behind her on the bed. Her breasts spill free, larger than Gaeul's, swaying slightly with each thrust of her hips. Her torso is sheened with sweat, the exertion of fucking making her skin glisten in the evening light.
She catches you looking and smiles. "How am I doing up here?"
The question catches you off guard. You take in the sight of her: tall and lithe, her body moving with grace as she drives into Gaeul, her hair sticking to her damp forehead, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. There's something almost regal about her like this, commanding, powerful and completely in control.
"You look like an Amazon."
Her hand comes down hard on Gaeul's ass. "Did you hear that?" She demands. "Your friend just said I look like an Amazon. He knows how to compliment a woman."
Gaeul moans, but the sound is muffled against the pillow. "He's a gentleman."
"He really is." Yujin agrees, her pace never faltering. "Most men would say something crude like 'you look hot' or 'nice tits.' But an Amazon? That's classical. That's mythological. That's showing respect for my warrior queen energy."
You thrust up particularly hard, making Gaeul cry out, and Yujin's grin widens. "I like him." She announces to no one in particular. "I've decided. He can stay."
"Glad I passed the test."
"Don't get cocky. You're still on probation." Her eyes drift to the right, catching her own reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall. Whatever she sees there makes her smile grow even wider, dimples appearing in her cheeks. She adjusts her angle slightly, still fucking Gaeul with steady strokes, but now she's watching herself do it. "You're right." She says. "I do look amazing like this."
She rolls her hips in a way that's clearly more for the mirror than for Gaeul's pleasure, admiring the way her body moves. The narcissism should be off-putting, but there's something endearing about how genuinely delighted she is by her own reflection.
"Look at me." She continues, still staring at herself. "I'm like a goddess. A sex goddess. Fucking this cute little slut while her new fucktoy watches from below. This should be a painting."
"Your humility is truly inspiring,” you say.
"Shut up, I'm having a moment." She turns her head slightly, finding the angle she likes best, and thrusts into Gaeul while maintaining eye contact with her own reflection.
Gaeul laughs breathlessly beneath you, her body shaking with both amusement and pleasure. "She does this sometimes." She manages between moans. "Gets distracted by mirrors. I've learned to just let it happen."
"I am not distracted." Yujin protests, still watching herself. I contain multitudes. I can appreciate my own beauty and fuck you senseless at the same time.
"You contain something, that's for sure."
Another sharp slap lands on Gaeul's already reddening ass. "Watch it, slut." But Yujin is smiling as she says it, and when she finally tears her gaze away from the mirror to look down at where all three of your bodies are connected, she runs her hand down Gaeul's spine, a surprisingly gentle touch, before returning her grip to those spread cheeks and resuming her demanding pace.
You and Yujin find a shared rhythm that has Gaeul keening between you. Every time you thrust up into her pussy, Yujin pulls back from her ass, and then you withdraw as Yujin drives forward. The alternating fullness is clearly overwhelming her, her body trembling with the constant stimulation, never empty, always stuffed with one of you or the other or both.
"That's it." Yujin says, breathing slightly heavily. "Take it. Take both of us like the greedy little slut you are." Her hand comes down on Gaeul's ass again, adding another layer of red to the already crimson cheeks. The flesh jiggles with the impact and Gaeul cries out, her pussy clenching around your cock in response to the pain-pleasure combination.
"Look at this ass." Yujin marvels, rubbing the abused flesh before striking it again. "So red. So pretty. You love being marked up, don't you?"
"Yes." Gaeul whimpers. "Yes, I love it, please don't stop."
"Wasn't planning on it."
You thrust up harder, burying yourself to the hilt, and feel Gaeul's walls flutter around you. She's getting close, you can tell from the way her body is responding, the increasing desperation in her movements as she tries to push back against both of you simultaneously.
"Harder." She begs. "Both of you, please, harder."
You and Yujin exchange a glance over Gaeul's trembling back. Some kind of understanding passes between you, a agreement to give her exactly what she's asking for. You grip her hips tighter, finding purchase, and Yujin does the same with her spread cheeks.
Then you both start fucking her in earnest.
The bed creaks violently beneath the three of you, the headboard knocking against the wall with each synchronized thrust. Gaeul's moans have dissolved into something incoherent, broken sounds of pleasure that don't form words anymore. Her arms give out and she collapses forward onto your chest, unable to support herself, leaving you and Yujin to do all the work.
"There you go." Yujin pants, sweat dripping from her forehead onto Gaeul's back. "Just lie there and take it. Let us use you. That's all you're good for right now, isn't it? Just a set of holes for us to fuck."
The dirty talk makes Gaeul clench impossibly tighter around you. You can feel the pressure of Yujin's strap through the thin membrane separating Gaeul's passages, the silicone rubbing against your cock with every thrust. It adds friction you weren't expecting, intensity that has your own orgasm building faster than you'd like.
"She's so tight." You manage to grunt out.
"She's always tight." Yujin agrees, her hips never stopping their relentless pace. "Even after I've fucked her open a hundred times, she always bounces back. It's like her body was designed for this." Another slap lands on Gaeul's ass, harder than the previous ones, and Gaeul screams into your chest.
"You like that?" Yujin demands. "Like being spanked while you're stuffed full of cock?"
"Yes, yes, yes..."
"Then say thank you."
"Thank you." Gaeul gasps immediately. "Thank you, thank you, please don't stop, I'm so close, I'm so fucking close..."
Yujin's eyes meet yours again over the expanse of Gaeul's shaking back. "Make her cum." She orders. "Give her everything you've got. I want to feel her fall apart."
You adjust your angle, tilting your hips to hit that spot inside her that made her scream earlier. At the same time, Yujin increases her pace, driving the strap into Gaeul's ass with punishing strokes. The coordination is seamless now, both of you working together toward the same goal, using Gaeul's body in perfect tandem.
"Oh god." Gaeul's voice is muffled against your chest but you can hear the desperation in it. "Oh god, oh god, I can't, it's too much, I'm gonna..."
"Not yet," Yujin commands. "You don't cum until I say you can."
Gaeul whines, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. You can feel her pussy fluttering around your cock, right on the edge, fighting against the orgasm that's trying to crash through her. Yujin is cruel, keeping her there, fucking her relentlessly while denying her the release she's desperate for.
"Please." Gaeul begs. "Yujin, please, I can't hold it, I need to cum, please let me cum..."
"What do you say?"
"Please, Mistress, please let me cum, I'll do anything, please..."
The title makes Yujin smile, dimples appearing in her flushed cheeks. "Good girl." She purrs, her hand coming down for one final devastating slap. "Now cum."
Gaeul detonates.
There's no other word for what happens to her body. She comes apart completely, every muscle seizing at once. You feel the contractions ripple through her, feel the pressure increase against the strap in her ass, feel her entire frame shudder and jerk between you and Yujin.
The sound she makes isn't human. It's a raw scream that probably carries through the walls to every neighboring apartment. Her nails dig into your shoulders hard and her hips buck uncontrollably, grinding against you and back against Yujin as the orgasm tears through her in waves.
"That's it." Yujin encourages, still moving inside her, drawing out the pleasure. "Let it go. Give us everything." Gaeul cums for what feels like minutes, her body wracked with aftershocks that have her twitching and whimpering long after the initial peak passes. When she finally goes limp, collapsing fully onto your chest, she's barely conscious. Her eyes are unfocused, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her whole body still trembling with residual pleasure.
Yujin pulls out slowly, carefully, and you feel the pressure in Gaeul's pussy decrease as the strap withdraws from her ass. She makes a small sound of loss at the emptiness but doesn't move, can't move, completely spent.
"I think we broke her." Yujin observes, sounding entirely too pleased with herself.
"Give her a minute."
You wrap your arms around Gaeul's limp form, holding her against your chest while she recovers. Your cock is still buried inside her, still hard, but you don't move, just let her rest. Yujin sits back on her heels.
"You okay?" You murmur the question against Gaeul's hair.
"Mmhmm." She manages, still not moving. "Just need... a second. You two are... a lot."
"That's fair."
Yujin snorts. "She can handle it. She's tougher than she looks." But her hand reaches out to stroke down Gaeul's spine. "Take your time, babe. We're not going anywhere."
A few minutes pass. Gaeul's breathing returns to normal and eventually she stirs, lifting her head from your chest to look up at you with hazy eyes.
"Hi."
"Hi yourself."
"That was..." She trails off, apparently unable to find adequate words. "Yeah."
"Eloquent," Yujin teases.
"Shut up. You try being double-fucked into oblivion and see how articulate you are after."
She pushes herself up slowly, wincing slightly as your cock shifts inside her. You let her set the pace as she lifts herself off you. She rolls onto her side, boneless and satisfied, and you finally get a good look at the state of her ass. The cheeks are bright red, almost purple in some spots, covered in overlapping handprints.
"So." Yujin breaks the comfortable silence. "What position now? We still need to switch. Someone hasn't had a turn in that tight little ass yet." She gestures at your cock, still standing at attention despite everything.
Gaeul turns to look at you, smiling. "He fucked me against the window earlier." She tells Yujin. "Held me up in the air the whole time. Just standing there with his cock inside me while I wrapped around him like a koala."
Yujin raises an eyebrow. "Show-off."
"It was hot."
"Whatever. I can do that too." She stands up from the bed, stretching her long limbs. "Get up, both of you. I'll show you how it's really done."
You climb off the bed, your legs slightly unsteady but functional. Yujin positions herself at the foot of the bed, the strap-on still jutting proudly from her hips, and holds out her arms toward Gaeul.
"Jump."
Gaeul hesitates for only a second before complying, pushing herself off the mattress and launching herself at Yujin. She catches her easily, hands gripping under her thighs, and Gaeul's legs wrap around her waist instinctively.
"You're so strong." Gaeul marvels, her arms looping around Yujin's neck.
"Of course I am, babe." Yujin adjusts her grip, settling Gaeul's weight more securely. "I do Pilates."
You move into position behind Gaeul, your chest pressing against her back. Her ass is right there, well-prepared from all the earlier attention, and your cock throbs at the prospect of finally being inside it. You grip her hips to steady yourself, feeling Yujin's hands just below yours where they support Gaeul's thighs.
"Ready?" Yujin asks, shifting to position the head of the strap at Gaeul's pussy.
You press the tip of your cock against Gaeul's slick asshole, feeling the ring of muscle flutter at the contact. "Ready.”
You push forward slowly, the head of your cock pressing against Gaeul's well-prepared asshole. The muscle resists for just a moment before yielding, opening up to accept you, and then you're sliding inside and the sensation is nothing like her pussy. This is tighter, deliciously tight, her ass gripping your shaft like a velvet vice as you ease deeper inch by inch.
"Holy fuck." You take a deep breath. "She's so tight back here."
"Told you." Yujin grunts from the front, adjusting her grip on Gaeul's thighs as she simultaneously pushes the strap upward into her pussy. "Her ass is unreal. First time I fucked it I almost came just from the visual."
"You don't even have nerve endings in that thing,” Gaeul points out.
"It's called empathy orgasms, look it up."
Gaeul laughs breathlessly between you, the sound dissolving into a moan as you bottom out inside her. She's completely stuffed now, your cock filling her ass while Yujin's strap stretches her pussy, and the thin wall between the two passages means you can feel the silicone rubbing against your shaft with every micro-movement.
"Give me a second." Gaeul pants, her arms tightening around Yujin's neck. "Just... adjusting."
You hold still, fighting every instinct that's screaming at you to move. The heat of her ass is incredible, the pressure almost overwhelming, and you have to actively focus on not thrusting. Yujin is more patient than you expected, keeping the strap motionless inside Gaeul's pussy while she waits.
"Okay." Gaeul finally breathes. "Okay, I'm good. You can move."
You and Yujin start at the same time, that coordinated rhythm you found earlier coming back naturally. When you pull back, she pushes in. When she withdraws, you thrust forward. Gaeul is never empty, always full of one or both of you, and the sounds she's making suggest she's absolutely losing her mind.
"This position." She gasps, her head falling back against your shoulder. "Oh my god, this position. I can feel both of you everywhere. You're both pressed against me, I can feel your chest on my back and your tits on my front and I'm just... sandwiched."
"That's generally how threesomes work." Yujin observes dryly.
"No, but like..." Gaeul struggles to articulate through her moans. "This is why I love being bi. Best of both worlds. I get her gorgeous body against my front and his gorgeous body against my back and both of you inside me at the same time. Why would anyone limit themselves to just one gender when you could have this?"
"Valid point,” you say.
"I'm making very valid points for someone getting double-fucked right now."
Yujin snorts and shuts her up with a kiss, capturing Gaeul's mouth in a demanding press of lips and tongue. You watch from over Gaeul's shoulder as they make out, Yujin taking control immediately, biting Gaeul's lower lip hard enough to make her whimper into the kiss. Their tongues slide together and you can see glimpses of the wetness shared between their mouths.
When they break apart, Gaeul turns her head toward you, craning her neck at an awkward angle. You meet her halfway, kissing her deeply, tasting traces of Yujin on her lips. It's different from the kisses you shared earlier, messier and more desperate, interrupted by moans every time you or Yujin thrust particularly deep.
"You two are disgusting." Yujin comments, watching you kiss. "In a hot way. Keep going." You smile against Gaeul's mouth and keep kissing her, your hips maintaining their steady rhythm in her ass. The angle is incredible from this position, letting you drive deep while Gaeul's body weight helps push her back onto your cock with every stroke. "Okay, break it up." Yujin finally demands. "She's mine too."
She claims Gaeul's mouth again, more aggressively this time, and you focus on the sensation of her tight ass gripping your shaft. You can feel every flutter and clench of her muscles, every involuntary squeeze when Yujin hits a good spot with the strap. It's like her whole body is responding to both of you simultaneously.
"Look at you." Yujin murmurs against Gaeul's lips, pulling back just enough to speak. "Stuffed full of cock like the desperate little slut you are. You can't even function without something in your holes, can you?"
"No." Gaeul whimpers.
"No what?"
"No, Mistress."
"That's right." Yujin smiles mischievously. "You're just a set of holes for us to use. A pretty little fucktoy that exists for our pleasure. Isn't that right?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"And you love it."
"I love it so much." Gaeul swallows hard before continuing: "I love being used. I love being full. I love that you're both inside me right now, using me however you want."
Yujin's eyes flick up to meet yours over Gaeul's shoulder, that smug smile on her lips. "Hear that? She loves it. She's thanking us for treating her like a whore." Her attention returns to Gaeul. "What do you say when someone gives you two cocks at once?"
"Thank you."
"Louder."
"Thank you!" Gaeul's voice rises to nearly a shout. "Thank you for fucking me! Thank you for using me! thank you for making me your slut!”
"Good girl." The praise makes Gaeul clench around both of you, her ass squeezing your cock so tight you have to grit your teeth against the surge of pleasure. Yujin notices your reaction and her smile widens.
"She likes being called a good girl almost as much as she likes being called a whore. Isn't that pathetic? She gets off on both ends of the spectrum. Tell her she's worthless, she cums. Tell her she's precious, she cums. She's basically a praise and degradation slut all rolled into one convenient package."
"Sounds efficient."
"It really is." Yujin agrees. "Watch this." She turns back to Gaeul and her expression shifts to something cunningly tender. "You're doing so well, baby. Taking both of us like a champion. Such a perfect girl." Gaeul whimpers, her pussy visibly clenching around the strap. "And now..." Yujin drops the softness entirely and says: "You're a pathetic cock-drunk whore who can't even stand on her own two feet because she needs to be held up while two people destroy her holes!”
Gaeul's whole body shudders between you.
"See? Works every time."
You increase your pace in her ass, the tight ring of muscle dragging along your shaft with every thrust. The friction is unbelievable, so much different from her pussy, tighter and more intense. You can feel yourself getting closer with every stroke.
"Her ass is incredible." You tell Yujin, not bothering to pretend Gaeul isn't right there listening. "So fucking tight. Like nothing I've ever felt."
"Right? I've been telling her for months she needs to share it more." Yujin punctuates this with a hard thrust that makes Gaeul yelp. "She's been hoarding this perfect ass all to herself. It's practically criminal."
"I haven't been hoarding it."
"You definitely have. When's the last time someone other than me fucked you here?"
Gaeul hesitates, apparently counting.
"See? Hoarding." Yujin slaps her thigh since she can't reach her ass in this position. "Selfish little slut."
"I'm not selfish, I'm just... selective."
"You're getting less selective as of today." Yujin informs her. "Anyone I approve of gets access to all three holes from now on. That's the new rule."
"Don't I get a say in this?"
"You get a say in who I approve." Yujin concedes. "But once approved, full access. No more holding back."
You thrust particularly deep and Gaeul loses whatever protest she was about to make, the words dissolving into a moan. Yujin takes advantage of her distraction to capture her mouth again, kissing her roughly while maintaining the rhythm of her hips.
"Tell me how it feels." Yujin demands, breaking the kiss. "Tell me exactly what you're feeling right now."
"Full." Gaeul gasps immediately. "So full I can barely think. Your strap is hitting that spot in my pussy, the one that makes my legs go numb. And his cock in my ass is... it's so big, I can feel it everywhere, it's like he's rearranging my insides."
"More."
"I feel like I'm being split open. In the best way. Like my body wasn't designed to take this much but it's doing it anyway because I'm too greedy to stop. I can feel you both rubbing against each other through me and it's making me lose my mind."
"And what are you?"
"I'm a slut." The admission comes immediately, without hesitation. "I'm your slut. Both of yours. I'm a desperate little whore who can't get enough cock and I never want this to stop."
Yujin's dimples appear as she smiles. "Good answer, babe.”
The rhythm continues, all three of you moving together in that suspended configuration. Sweat drips down Yujin's temples as she maintains her grip on Gaeul's thighs, her arms straining with the effort but her pace never faltering. You can feel the burn in your own muscles from helping support Gaeul's weight, but the tight heat of her ass wrapped around your cock makes it impossible to care about anything as mundane as physical exhaustion.
"I could get used to this." Yujin admits between thrusts, her eyes meeting yours over Gaeul's shoulder. "The three of us. It's a good dynamic. She's never this well-behaved when it's just us."
"I'm always well-behaved." Gaeul protests weakly.
"You're a brat when it's just us. Having an audience keeps you in line." Yujin punctuates this with a particularly hard thrust that makes Gaeul squeal. "But don't think this means you've passed inspection yet." It takes you a moment to realize she's addressing you now. "I still need to verify that this cock is as good as advertised. Gaeul's opinion is biased. She'd fuck anything at this point."
"Hey." Gaeul sounds genuinely offended.
"Am I wrong?"
A pause.
"No, but still."
Yujin smirks.
"I'll only believe the hype when I feel it stretching my pussy myself. Until then, you're on probation."
"I guarantee it's good." Gaeul moans, her head falling back against your shoulder. "It's so good, Yujin. He made me cum like six times today. Maybe seven. I lost count."
"That could just mean you're easy."
"I'm not easy, I'm responsive. There's a difference."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
You thrust deeper into Gaeul's ass, reminding both of them that you're still very much present and active. The tight ring of muscle clenches around your shaft and Gaeul's protest dissolves into an incoherent moan.
"There he is." Yujin observes with amusement. "Getting competitive. I like that. Most men get threatened when you question their abilities. He's just trying to prove himself. It's almost cute."
"It's very cute." Gaeul manages. "He's cute. His cock is cute. Everything about this is cute."
"Your vocabulary really suffers when you're getting fucked."
"I'm being double-penetrated while suspended in midair. Cut me some slack."
Yujin laughs. She leans forward and presses a kiss to Gaeul's forehead, surprisingly tender, before resuming her punishing pace with the strap. "Fine. You get a pass. But only because you're taking us so well. Look at you, baby. Stuffed full in both holes, completely helpless, depending on us to hold you up. You'd fall right to the floor if we let go, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"And you love that. You love being at our mercy."
"I love it so much." Gaeul moans. "I love that you're both in control and I'm just... here. Being used. Being filled."
"That's right." Yujin's tone turns honeyed, that sweet dominance she does so well. "You're our perfect little toy. Existing for our pleasure. Making those pretty sounds while we take what we want from your body."
Gaeul whimpers and you feel her ass clench impossibly tighter around your cock. The pressure is incredible and you can feel your orgasm building faster than you'd like. The combination of her tight heat, the visual of Yujin fucking her from the front, and the sounds of her desperate moans is pushing you toward the edge with alarming speed.
"She's squeezing me so hard." You grunt, your hips never stopping their rhythm. "I don't know how much longer I can last."
"Already?" Yujin sounds unimpressed. "Amateur."
"I've cum like four times today."
"Excuses. Fine. If you're going to finish, at least make it count. Fill her up properly. I want to see it dripping out of her when you're done." She turns her attention back to Gaeul. "And you. You're going to take every drop like a good girl, aren't you?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"You're going to feel him cum in your ass and thank him for it."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good." Yujin's eyes meet yours again. "You heard her. She wants it. Give it to her."
Your pace increases, driving into Gaeul's ass with more force. The tight ring of muscle stretches around your shaft with each stroke. You can feel every clench and flutter of her body, every involuntary squeeze as Yujin hits a good spot with the strap.
"Please." Gaeul begs. "Please cum in me. I need it. I need to feel you filling me up."
"You're so pathetic." Yujin observes fondly. "Begging for cum like a whore."
"I am a whore. Your whore. His whore. Both of yours."
"That's right." Yujin thrusts particularly hard. "And whores get rewarded when they behave. Have you behaved tonight?"
"Yes, I've been good, I've taken everything you gave me, please let him cum in me, please..."
The begging is pushing you closer. Your grip on her hips tightens, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and you feel your balls drawing up tight against your body. "I'm close." You warn.
"I know." Yujin cuts in, brooking no argument. "Cum. Now. Fill her slutty little ass with everything you've got."
You lose control.
Your hips slam forward one final time, burying yourself to the hilt in Gaeul's tight ass, and the orgasm crashes through you in relentless waves that have your toes curling and your vision blurring. Your cock pulses violently, rope after rope of thick cum erupting deep inside her, flooding her insides with heat. You can feel your release coating her walls, filling her up, marking her from the inside out.
Gaeul screams.
Her eyes roll back in her head, showing white, and her whole body convulses between you and Yujin. The sensation of your hot cum painting her insides seems to trigger something in her, a sympathetic pleasure response that has her shaking and moaning and clenching around you painfully hard.
"Oh god, I can feel it." She gasps, barely coherent. "I can feel you cumming in me. So much. So hot. It's filling me up."
"Take it." Yujin commands. "Take every drop."
You continue pulsing inside her, the orgasm seeming to go on forever. Weeks of pent-up frustration, multiple orgasms throughout the day, and you're still somehow producing more. Your cock throbs and twitches inside her tight ass, emptying everything you have left into her willing body.
"There's so much." Gaeul whimpers. "He's still cumming. How is there still more?"
"Because you're worth it, apparently." Yujin sounds almost impressed. "Look at you. Stuffed full of cum like the greedy little slut you are."
Finally, the pulses begin to subside. You stay buried inside her for a long moment, catching your breath, feeling the last weak spurts of your release add to the mess already filling her. Your legs are trembling, your arms aching, your entire body wrung out from the intensity of the orgasm.
"I'm going to pull out." You warn her.
"Slowly." Yujin instructs. "I want to see."
You withdraw inch by inch, your softening cock dragging through the cum-slicked channel of her ass. Gaeul whimpers at the sensation, oversensitive and overfull, and when you finally slip free the result is exactly what Yujin wanted.
Her asshole gapes slightly, that tight ring stretched and reddened from use. And from that open hole, thick white cum begins to leak out. It oozes slowly at first, then flows more freely, dripping down toward her pussy in a steady stream of your release.
"Now that." Yujin observes with satisfaction. "That's a mess. Good job. You might pass inspection after all."
She carefully lowers Gaeul to the floor, keeping hold of her until she's sure her friend can stand on her own. Gaeul wobbles but stays upright, cum still trickling down her inner thighs as she turns to face both of you.
"That was amazing." She breathes, face still flushed and her eyes still slightly unfocused. "Best session ever. Officially."
"It's not over yet." Yujin warns. She steps out of the harness, letting the strap-on fall to the floor with a soft thud, then she slowly takes off her panties and fixes you with a dangerous stare. "I haven't cum yet." She points out. "And I want to taste that cum Gaeul keeps raving about. See what all the fuss is." Her eyes drop to your cock, hanging semi-hard between your legs, still glistening with the remnants of your orgasm. "You'd better have more stored up in those balls. Because I'm not leaving unsatisfied."
Without waiting for a response, she drops to her knees on the carpet. One hand reaches out and grabs Gaeul's wrist, pulling her down to kneel beside her.
"Come on. We're doing this together." Gaeul settles into position without complaint, and suddenly you're looking down at two beautiful women kneeling before you, both staring up at your cock with obvious intent.
"Come closer." Yujin orders.
You step forward on unsteady legs, and her hand wraps around your shaft, fingers cool against your heated flesh. Yujin's hand begins moving along your shaft with slow strokes. Her grip is firm, confident. The sensation makes your still-sensitive cock twitch in her palm, and she smirks at the response.
"Still got some life in him." She observes. "Good. I was worried you'd be useless after that display."
Beside her, Gaeul shifts closer, and you watch as her hand slides between Yujin's thighs. Her breath catches almost imperceptibly when Gaeul's fingers make contact with her pussy, finding the slick heat that's been building throughout the entire session.
"Someone's wet." Gaeul teases.
"Shut up and focus,” Yujin says, but her composure is cracking slightly as Gaeul's fingers begin working in slow circles around her clit. She compensates by tightening her grip on your cock, stroking faster.
Gaeul leans in and drags her tongue along the side of your shaft, following the path of Yujin's hand. The wet warmth of her mouth combined with the firm pressure of Yujin's fingers creates a sensation that has your hips bucking forward involuntarily. Your cock is hardening again, filling out in Yujin's grip, and she makes a sound of approval.
"There we go. I knew you had more in there." She guides the head toward her own mouth and takes you in, her lips stretching around your girth as she sucks firmly on just the tip. Her tongue swirls around the crown, teasing the sensitive underside, and you groan at the sensation. Meanwhile, Gaeul's mouth has found your balls, licking and sucking gently while her hand continues its work between Yujin's legs.
They trade off without speaking, an incredible harmony that has Yujin pulling back so Gaeul can take over. Gaeul's technique is different, messier and more enthusiastic, taking you deeper into her throat before retreating to lap at the head. Yujin watches with hooded eyes, her hips starting to rock against Gaeul's fingers.
"That's it." Yujin breathes, though it's unclear if she's talking to you or Gaeul or both. "Just like that."
Gaeul pulls off your cock with a wet noise and Yujin reclaims it immediately, bobbing her head in a steady rhythm while Gaeul trails kisses along your shaft. The sensation of two mouths working you simultaneously is overwhelming, lips and tongues and warm breath all focused on bringing you back to the edge.
Then Yujin pulls back and does something unexpected.
She slaps the head of your cock with her open palm. The impact sends a jolt of sensation through your entire body, that sharp sting followed immediately by a throb of intense pleasure. Your cock twitches violently in response, a bead of precum welling up at the tip. "He likes that." Yujin observes. "Interesting."
"Do it again." Gaeul encourages, her fingers picking up speed between Yujin's thighs. "He's throbbing so hard."
Yujin obliges, another slap that makes your cock jump and your knees nearly buckle. She follows it immediately with her mouth, sucking the abused head between her lips and soothing the sting with her tongue.
"Cum for us." Gaeul's voice is sweet, encouraging, her free hand coming up to cup your balls and massage them gently. "We want it so bad." She continues. "Want to feel you cumming all over our faces. Want to taste you. Want to be covered in you."
Yujin pulls off to add her own commentary, her hand never stopping its stroking. "Give it to us. Every drop. I want to feel it hitting my skin, dripping down my face.”
"Please." Gaeul begs, her fingers curling inside Yujin in a way that makes her gasp. "We need it. Both of us. Need you to mark us. Claim us. Make us yours."
They alternate on your cock again, passing it between their mouths like they're sharing a treat. Yujin's tongue traces the vein along the underside while Gaeul sucks firmly on the head. Then they switch, Gaeul licking while Yujin sucks. Their faces are so close together, their mouths meeting occasionally around your shaft in what might qualify as a kiss if there weren't a cock between their lips.
"Cum with him." Gaeul suggests, her pace increasing on Yujin's pussy. "Both of you at the same time. I want to feel you both losing control."
"Bossy." But Yujin doesn't argue, just takes you back into her mouth and sucks harder.
The pressure is building rapidly now. You look down at the two of them, kneeling before you. Gaeul is beautiful, her hair disheveled and her lips swollen from use, cum still drying on her thighs. Yujin is stunning, that imperious attitude softened by arousal, her control dissolving under Gaeul's skillful touch driving her toward the edge.
"I'm gonna cum." You warn. "Fuck, I'm right there."
Both women pull back, tilting their faces upward, mouths open and tongues extended. They're presenting themselves as targets, offering their faces for you to paint, and the sight shatters whatever remaining control you had.
You grab your cock and stroke frantically, aiming down at them.
The first jet of cum hits Yujin across the cheek, a thick white rope that splatters against her skin and drips toward her jaw. She moans at the impact, her eyes fluttering closed, and at that exact moment Gaeul's fingers curl inside her and press against that perfect spot.
Yujin cums.
Her whole body shudders as the orgasm crashes through her, her mouth falling open in a silent cry just in time for the second rope of your release to land across her lips and chin. She's trembling and gasping, pleasure overwhelming her from two directions at once, your cum painting her face while Gaeul's fingers wring the orgasm from her body.
You turn your aim toward Gaeul, the third and fourth spurts landing across her pretty features. One catches her across the bridge of her nose, another across her forehead, and she moans happily as she's marked. Yujin's hand reaches out even through her own orgasm, wrapping around your cock and taking over the stroking. Her grip is almost too tight, milking you desperately, and then she slaps the tip again.
The impact makes you cry out, your cock pulsing with another unexpected spurt of cum that lands on her cheek. She does it again, another slap, and more cum erupts, your body responding to the stimulation with reserves you didn't know you had. "Fuck." You moan, legs shaking. "Fuck, Yujin, I can't..."
"You can." She insists, still stroking, still slapping intermittently. "Give me everything. I want it all." A few more weak pulses drip from your cock, the last of your release, and Yujin finally relents. She squeezes from base to tip one final time, coaxing out the very last drop, and then releases you with a satisfied sound.
Both of their faces are covered. Ropes of cum crisscross Yujin's cheeks and lips and chin. Gaeul's forehead and nose and one closed eye are glazed white. They look absolutely debauched, ruined, and they're both smiling like they've just received the greatest gift imaginable. Gaeul leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the tip of your softening cock.
"Thank you." She murmurs against the head.
Then Yujin's hand fists in her hair and pulls her into a kiss. It's filthy. Open-mouthed and messy, their tongues sliding together through the cum coating both their faces. You watch as they share your release between them, passing it back and forth, some of it dripping down their chins while the rest disappears into their mouths. They lick at each other's faces, cleaning off the mess, giggling between kisses.
"I love cum." Yujin admits when they finally break apart, licking her lips. "Like, genuinely. The taste, the texture, the way it feels on my skin. All of it."
"Same." Gaeul agrees, swiping a finger through the remnants on Yujin's cheek and popping it into her mouth. "I'm a complete cumslut. Have been since forever. There's something about it that just... does it for me."
"You're both insane." You manage to say.
"Probably." Yujin concedes.
Your legs finally give out. You stumble backward until your calves hit the edge of the bed, then let yourself collapse onto the mattress. You lie there staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, every muscle in your body feeling like it's been wrung out and hung up to dry.
"You girls really used me today."
"Please." Gaeul scoffs, climbing up onto the bed beside you. "I'm the one who got double-dicked. I'm totally wrecked. My legs don't work. My ass is going to be sore for a week. You just had to lie there for most of it."
"I did a lot more than lie there."
"Maybe."
Yujin joins you on the other side, her body warm as she settles against you. You're sandwiched between them now, two beautiful women pressed against your flanks, their hands resting on your chest and their heads on your shoulders.
"Thank you." You say quietly, staring at the ceiling. "Both of you. It's been... a really long time since I've had sex like that."
"How long?" Gaeul asks curiously.
"Long enough that I forgot what it felt like. To be wanted like that. To be used. To be part of something so..." You trail off, unable to find the right word.
"Intense?" Yujin offers.
"Yeah. That."
Gaeul's hand traces lazy patterns on your chest, is gentle and soothing. "You're welcome." She says softly. "And thank you too. For going along with all of this. For being open to it."
The three of you lie there in silence, the only sounds being your collective breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. It is Yujin who eventually breaks the silence: "I think this might work."
Gaeul lifts her head from your shoulder, looking across your chest at her friend. "What do you mean?"
"The three of us,” she explains. "Fucking together. Today was really fun. More fun than I expected, honestly. And I don't say that lightly."
You feel Gaeul's smile more than you see it, the warmth of her expression radiating against your skin.
"Yujin." There's something almost teasing in Gaeul's tone. "Are you saying you like him?"
"I'm saying the group dynamic works." Yujin clarifies immediately. "That's different. It's about chemistry. Physical compatibility. Nothing more."
"Uh huh."
"Don't 'uh huh' me." Yujin shifts, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you directly. Her face is still slightly flushed, traces of your cum still visible at her hairline where she didn't quite get it all. "Hey, are you free tomorrow?"
The question is directed at you. "Tomorrow?"
"Yes, tomorrow. It's a day that comes after today. Basic calendar stuff." She rolls her eyes at your hesitation. "This time I want you to fuck me. Properly. I need to verify for myself if your cock is actually as good as Gaeul claims."
"Translation." Gaeul interjects cheerfully. "She's dying to bounce on your dick. She's been thinking about it since she saw it. She probably won't sleep tonight because she'll be too busy imagining what it's going to feel like inside her."
"Shut up, slut," Yujin snaps. "I didn't say any of that. I said I want to evaluate his performance. It's completely different. It's a quality control measure."
"Sure it is."
"I will hurt you."
You find yourself smiling despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. “Okay, I'm in."
Yujin turns back to you, and for just a moment her features warm, almost breaking into a smile, before she composes herself behind that smug facade. "Good."
"You two are so cute together." Gaeul sighs contentedly, nestling closer against your side. "Look at you, making plans for tomorrow like a real couple. It's adorable."
"There's nothing cute about it." Yujin protests immediately. "It's a superficial and fleeting relationship. An exchange of sexual interests between consenting adults. No feelings involved. Purely transactional."
"Keep telling yourself that."
"I'm serious. This is just sex. Good sex, admittedly, but just sex. Don't read anything more into it. You’re the emotional little slut here, not me."
"I know you're sweet on the inside." Gaeul continues, undeterred by Yujin's protests. "Under all that prickly exterior, there's a soft gooey center. Like a cactus. Or a porcupine. Or one of those spiky fruits that's really sweet when you cut it open."
"Sweet?! Bitch, I could kill you right now if I wanted to. I know krav maga. I could dislocate your trachea with just my pinky finger. It would take less than three seconds."
"See? Sweet."
"I'm describing how I would murder you."
"Sweetly."
"There's nothing sweet about trachea dislocation."
You turn your head to look at Yujin and says: "That sounds anatomically unlikely.”
"Excuse me?"
"The trachea thing. With your pinky. I don't think that's a real move.”
Yujin's eyes narrow at you. “So you want to see for yourself? I can prove it right now. All you have to do is offer your trachea. Just lie still and let me demonstrate. You won't feel a thing. Well, you'll feel something. Intense pain, followed by an inability to breathe, followed by death. But after that, nothing."
"Nah, I'll pass.”
"Coward.”
Gaeul giggles against your shoulder, apparently delighted by the exchange. "I'm so excited for tomorrow,” she says. "It almost sounds like a cliffhanger for the next chapter."
You turn to look at her. "What?"
"What I said. The way this is all wrapping up, with Yujin making plans for tomorrow, the three of us lying here after an incredible day of sex. It has a very end-of-chapter energy. Like we're characters reaching the conclusion of an episode."
"You spoke as if you were a character trying to make a meta-narrative comment."
Gaeul's grin widens. "Who knows?" She musesl. "Maybe we really are in a fictional world. Maybe all of this is just words on a page somewhere. Or pixels on a screen. Maybe Big Brother is watching us right now, with his hand on his cock, reading every single thing we say and do."
"That's disturbing." You note.
"Is it? Or is it flattering? Someone out there, in another dimension maybe, finding us entertaining enough to follow along. Our sex being their fantasy. Our dialogue being their amusement. Every orgasm we have translating into content for their consumption."
Yujin reaches across your chest and flicks Gaeul on the forehead. "Stop trying to break the fourth wall, slut. It won't work."
"Ow." Gaeul rubs the spot but she's still grinning. "Why not? What if I just keep going? What if I address the reader directly? Hello, person reading this. Are you enjoying yourself? Did you get off to us? Was it good for you too?"
“Gaeul,” Yujin cautions.
"What if I describe the very act of being described? What if I acknowledge that my words exist only because someone is writing them, that my thoughts are not my own but merely the inventions of a creative mind using me as a vessel for their..."
Yujin's hand clamps over Gaeul's mouth, cutting off the ramble. "You're being weird. Stop being weird."
Gaeul licks Yujin's palm and she yanks her hand back with a sound of disgust.
"Fine, fine." Gaeul laughs. "I'll stop. No more fourth wall stuff. We're definitely real people having a definitely real conversation in a definitely real world that definitely wasn't invented for entertainment purposes."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. But just know that somewhere out there, someone is reading this exact exchange and probably finding it hilarious."
"Yeah, I'm choosing to ignore that."
Yujin settles back down against your side, but she's smiling. She looks at you, then at Gaeul, then back at you. "We fucked her so well that we reset her brain." She observes. "She's always a little weird but this is exceptional even for her." She extends her fist toward you, hovering over your chest. "Good teamwork."
You bump it lightly with your own. "Good teamwork."
"Okay." Yujin announces, pushing herself up from the bed with a stretch. "I'm going to take a shower. I have dried cum in my hair and probably several other places I haven't discovered yet. This is unacceptable." She stands, her naked body silhouetted against the dim light from the window. Even after everything, she's still stunning, all long limbs and graceful lines. "You two should join me." She adds, not quite looking at either of you. "Gaeul's shower is big enough for three. And someone needs to wash the parts I can't reach."
Gaeul immediately perks up. "Shower sex?"
"Shower washing." Yujin corrects. "With potential for shower sex if everyone behaves."
"Define behaving."
"The opposite of everything you normally do."
Gaeul scrambles off the bed with more energy than someone who spent the day getting fucked should possess. You follow more slowly, your legs protesting the movement, but the thought of warm water and continued company is enough motivation to get you upright.
Yujin leads the way down the hallway toward the bathroom. Gaeul falls in behind her, reaching out to grab a handful of that ass and earning herself a sharp swat in return. You bring up the rear, watching the two of them bicker their way toward the shower.
This morning you were dreading another day at the office. Now you're walking toward a shower with two beautiful women who both want to fuck you again tomorrow.
Life, you decide, is strange sometimes.
"Wait, did you just drop a gamer reference?" Gaeul asks out of nowhere. "Man, I freaking love that game.”
"Girl, who the hell're you talking to?" Yujin asks, her hand paused on the shower handle. "You're scaring the shit out of me."
"Eh, forget it, I thought I heard something," Gaeul says with a quiet giggle, one that draws an exhausted sigh from Yujin and an unwilling smile.
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OMG!!!! Strongly hope there will be a sequel to The Forest Nymph!! You are a genius!!!!
Hihi thank you for your nice words!! I mean idk if there will be a sequel to it. Cause world building is tough but I do have a couple of ideas if that really happens. But idk are there particular things you guys want to see? Feel free to pm or comment or drop me an ask<3
Her recent outfit on the left was too good to not make a fic out of it honestly. Best we have seen her in awhile. But my dear @kesujo pitched a really good idea so I decided to come back after a year of no fics. Thanks @autumnyacorn & @kesujo for helping to proof read the fic and giving great ideas on how to make it better. Also I blame @okaylikeschaewon for the characterisation of IU to be this slutty, hate him instead. Hope the rest of you enjoy it ! Will talk more later.....
OC X IU Fantasy Theme SMUT with mentions of Yuna, Gaeul & others (7400 words)
The thing about being broke is that it doesn’t announce itself.
No warnings.
No loud thunder.
It just creeps into your life quietly, like dust — invisible.
Until suddenly, it’s everywhere. That’s the sort of situation you’re in now, lying in a pile of dusty wood, waking up in a rented room, staring at the cracked ceiling, wondering how many more nights it’ll hold before the landlord kicks your bump ass out.
In a world where children can cast flames before they can walk, or fly with wind magic before they can write their names, you were born with nothing. No magic. No blessing. No hope.
Fate didn’t just deal you a bad hand, it dealt you no hand at all.
The only thing you can do is hone your physical body, but that means little in a world where everything revolves around magic.
People tell you that magic isn’t everything, the same way rich people talk about money. Funny how it’s always the ones who have it all saying that. So you do what you can. You take on jobs that no one wants. You haul crates heavier than they need to be. You scrub pungent potion spills off guild floors. You ignite torches for adventurers who never bother to learn your name and probably wouldn’t notice if you vanished between one job.
Fuck them anyway. Privileged bastards.
Today is no different. You’re sweeping the guild hall again, moving in a monotonous, mindless rhythm. Laughter echoes above you, genuine laughter from people who barely have to try. Magic casts, armor clinks, trophies of lives living in easy mode.
You’re halfway through pretending not to eavesdrop but a few words slip through anyway.
“Not worth it. Not even for ten times the pay.”
“Wait, the infamous cursed woods?”
“Yeah. The Blackroot Forest. Whole party went in. Never came out.”
“Heard the survival rate’s basically zero.”
“The quest’s been untouched for ten years, even with the bounty increasing every year.”
Your grip tightens on the broom.
“The place is unusual,” someone adds. “Mana/Magic flows strange the closer you get. Can’t keep your bearings. Some say the forest moves on its own. They say something lives deep inside, and that something can sense from miles away.”
You swallow.
Everyone knows the stories —the forest that eats maps, the place where even veteran adventurers disappear without a trace. Even Yuna, the S-ranked prodigy destined for the Queen’s Guard, failed to come back.
The kind of place sane people avoid.
Your eyes drift to the quest board. You’re not bitter though you sound that way. You're just tired of your current life.
The bounty parchment flutters as someone walks past, and for a brief moment you see the number written at the bottom.
It’s more money than you’ve ever held in your life. More than you’d ever need in fact. Enough to eat properly. Enough to clear your debts. Enough to stop surviving and start living.
You tell yourself to look away. To be smart. To remember that people who are stronger, wiser, and far more magical than you have gone in and never returned.
But then you think about the mold on your walls. The hunger in your stomach. The way the world has already decided you don’t matter.
If you die in those woods, what difference does it make from the miserable life you’re already living?
You set the broom aside.
The guild receptionist Miyeon looks up as you approach, already halfway through a practiced dismissal.
“If you’re here about the—”
“The cursed woods.”
She freezes. “You’re alone?”
You nod.
“Are you out of your mind?”
A silent pause sits in the air as she stares at your resolute eyes.
Something unreadable flickers across her face before she slides the contract towards you. “Whatever. Nobody ever listens to me anyways.”
“Sign here,” she mutters. “And… good luck, warrior.”
You smile at the subtle care she shows you. Although she never admits it, she's the only one who was nice to you, cared for you, and acknowledged your existence.
You take the quill.
For the first time in a long while, your hands aren’t shaking.
If anything, you feel… excited.
You hear murmurs behind you, people whispering, calling you an idiot.
You don’t care. Inks streaking, fingerprints imprinted. Contract sealed.
…..
The Blackroot Forest lies far beyond the city walls, past the last honest trade road, over where caravans still bother to go. Long ago, it was a stretch of woodland separating the prosperous regions of Midgard and Nilfhim.
The black forest was once a natural corridor for merchants, mages, and diplomats alike. Trade & goods flowed through it, maintaining a healthy balance between the two wealthy nations. Entire economies depended on it. Then one day, a huge giant tree showed up deep in the woods.
What the nations now call Yggdrasil.
No one knows the exact dates of the events, but trade caravans gradually disappeared. Maps became unreliable. Scouts vanished. Messages sent through magical channels arrived warped or not at all, their words twisted into nonsense. At first, kingdoms tried to fix it the civilized way. They sent surveyors, then battlemages and finally elite task forces backed by the finest equipment gold could buy.
None of them came back.
With the main artery severed, trade collapsed between regions, and prices surged. A newer and longer trade route was forcefully carved, but that involved travelling an additional ten days across dangerous monster terrains. Resources became scarce, demand skyrocketed. And so, the bounty grew. Not because anyone believed that someone would succeed, but rather because hope, however delusional, was cheaper than watching the once prosperous nation collapse. You totally understand this feeling; the reason you are even on this quest proves that hope can be rather delusional in nature. That is why the number on the contract is so high. Not because they believed in you, but because they didn’t believe in anyone.
The road out is long and mostly empty. You travel light, far lighter than you’d like, but at least you’re not walking empty-handed. A sword hangs at your side and a small pack rests against your back, with enough food rations to sustain you. It isn’t much, but it’s more than what you’ve had on some days. At least you won't starve immediately, assuming you even survive long enough to need food.
When you finally reach the edge of the forest, it almost surprises you. No twisted nightmare shapes. No wall of darkness. For a moment, you almost believe the stories were exaggerated.
Then the branches shift and part.
A narrow path opens before you, deliberate and slow, like the forest itself is acknowledging your arrival.
Your hand tightens around your sword. A part of you wants to turn and run, but another part acknowledges your life back there isn't much better; here at least you have a chance. As you take a few steps in, the branches close back behind you. Light is instantly snuffed. You continue walking further into the forest darkness.
Then amidst the darkness, you hear footsteps approaching, one that seems to be in tune with the forest bed.
Your heart races. You turn, instinctively grabbing the sword handle, but what steps into view isn’t what you expected. Instead of some monster, in came one of the prettiest sights to your human eyes. An ethereal figure emerges between the trees as if stepping out of a dream, soft light gathering around her form, emitting a certain warmth. Flowers bloom where her feet touch the ground.
Your eyes scan her body, ruby red cloth clinging on to her slender curves, the neckline drawing your gaze gently, framing her collarbones and the natural curve of her cleavage in a way that feels pure. The crimson dress glows underneath the soft light, cascading down her sultry legs. Her beauty leaves you dazed and unable to act.
She smiles; not sinister but something gentler and welcoming.
“Easy, warrior. I was wondering when someone would finally come around,” she continues, tilting her head slightly. “It’s been… a very very long time. People don’t come here anymore, especially after those rumors started spreading.”
You don’t lower your guard, hands still on your sword, ready to draw at any moment. But somehow, you stop trembling.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Jieun, the caretaker of this forest, or what you humans call us, a forest nymph.”
“You needn’t fear,” she says gently. “If I wished you any harm, you would not have made it past the first root.”
That should terrify you. Instead, it comforts you more than it should; it makes perfect sense, this woman was literally bending trees in front of you. She could kill you anytime, but she didn’t.
Her gaze lingers on you, something curious, something…greedy, as if she’s looking to gain something from you.
“What is this place? Where's the curse I’m supposed to dispel?”
“You have many questions. I would answer them all,but first…. You will have to pass my test”
“What test? I didn’t come here to play your games.”
She tilts her head, studying you with curiosity. Then she steps closer, far too close. Your hands grip the handle tighter. You feel it immediately, the warmth of her presence, an embracing feeling that envelops your body, as if promising to take good care of you.
“Oh, don’t look so tense. You have been staring at my body ever since I appeared.”
“I—” Your breath hitches before you can stop.
She’s right. Her dress that outlined those cleavage was distracting you way too much. You could feel your cock stirring as it grows and strains in your pants with how scantily dressed Jieun is.
She smiles wider, clearly pleased. “There it is,” you look away, jaw tightening, trying to avoid these rightful allegations, but she slowly circles around, before stopping right in front of you. “You have something I need.”
“And what’s that?” You unsheathe your blade slightly.
“A good fuck.”
She pulls back just enough for you to meet her gaze as if to laugh at your flushing face.
“And I,” she adds softly, “have something you desperately need. So why not drop the pretense so we both can get what we want? Are you up for the challenge, brave warrior?” You nod out of reflex without realising.
She chuckles and with a wave of her hand, rough vines and branches shoot out from the surroundings, lashing and clinging around your clothes, ripping your top off. Your sword unbuckles off your waist, plunging into the ground, sticking upright. You bent down to reach for the sword but before you can grab it she closes the distance in one swift step. Her palm presses onto your chest, cool despite the heat of your body and you feel your heart kick against her fingers. In a flash, Jieun drops to her knees with ferns appearing to cushion the impact. Her hands find your belt buckle, metal clinking, and you stare down at the crown of her head while blood surges south so fast your vision narrows.
You try to speak but the first tug of your pants silences you. Your cock springs free, heavy and impatient, slapping gently against your lower belly. A bead of pre-cum already glimmers at the slit, and Jieun’s smile widens at the offering.
She wraps her graceful fingers around your base, grip confident, and gives a single slow stroke that sends heat rolling up your spine. Her breath comes first, warm, then her tongue curls beneath the ridge to collect the slick salt gathering there.
You groan, knuckles whitening as you clench hard still trying to process the situation. But she cuts your train of thought short, her lips parting as she simply take you inside.
Wet heat folds around you, tight and smooth, her tongue pressing along the underside while her cheeks hollows with gentle suction.
Without warning, she takes you deeper in one fell swoop, no gag, no pause until your crown nudges the back of her throat and keeps going, swallowed by a throat that massages every vein. Is she really just a forest nymph? Or is she a sex goddess in disguise? In any case, her throat is a bottomless pit, taking you whole, swallowing you deep. Your hips jerk reflexively, forcing a grunt from your chest, yet she takes it all so well and simply moans, the vibration buzzing straight into your shaft.
“Here’s your test, Be a good boy and last for a minute. The previous adventurers all failed terribly — well, except one.” She says briefly before taking you back in.
“Fuck.” You are unsure of how much you can resist, but you have to take the challenge up. Were the other adventurers killed off when they failed? Is that why they never came out? A million unimportant questions floods your mind before a particularly deep bob, brings you back to reality.
“Jieun please… slow down…”
Determined to pleasure you, her hands caress your thighs and balls as she sucks harder, cheeks hollowing out, not pulling away a single moment to even catch her breath.
“Please— I'm going to c-cum.”
Jieun ignores you and continues to suck vigorously, her skilled mouth and tongue working overtime to bring you to the edge. She looks up at you with lust-filled eyes, seeing how close you are.
“No,no! Not yet! You have to last the full minute, remember?” she pulls off briefly, stroking your slick shaft, before gathering spit in her mouth and spitting it back all over your shaft.
Your hands reach forward to stop her but Jieun was quicker —a snap of her fingers and thin green vines snakes across the leaf litter, coiling around your wrists first, before tugging until your arms lifts. You're bound, helpless.
“Count down from ten for me will you?” She says before her voice is once again muffled, taking you back in. You curse under your breath and began the dreadful countdown, cock pulsing in Jieun’s throat and she responds by drawing back until only the cockhead remains trapped between her lips, then plunging down again, faster this time, spit slicking your skin in glossy streaks.
“10…”
You struggle, but the living restraints holds you in perfect stillness, no control, only sensation.
“9…"
She sets a rhythm that’s both relentless and teasing, slow enough to feel every inch, fast enough to rob you of breath.
“8…7…6…”
Her tongue never stops — it flicks beneath the rim, dips into the slit to gather every droplet, then flattens to cradle your shaft as she bobs, causing you to quicken the count.
“5…”
Saliva drips off her chin, falling warm onto your bare thighs, stringing onto her tits, the crude sounds of her gulping filling the forest.
“4…”
Looking down, you met her upturned stare, lustful eyes daring you to last, daring you to remain standing while she siphons the life out of you.
“3…”
You clench every muscle, but still feel the orgasm looming.
“2…”
The vines extend past your wrist , snaking towards your stiff nipples, its leaves flicking them.
“1!”
You groan her name, and she positions herself directly in front of your throbbing cock, looking up at you with eager eyes. Her pink tongue darts out to lick her lips in anticipation.
“Cum for me warrior, mark me with your hot seed, I want to feel it coating my face.”
Her hands continue firm strokes as she waits, ready to receive your explosive release. The sight of her beautiful face tilting up towards you, those innocent yet slutty eyes, was too much to resist.
You roar loudly as your cock pulses and throbs, the pressure building to an unbearable peak. With one last stroke from Jieun, you erupt, thick ropes of hot cum shooting out, splattering across Jieun's pretty face. Your hips jerk involuntarily as spurt after spurt paints her cheeks, nose, and parted lips.
“Fuck yes, take it all!” she continues to stroke you as you ride out intense waves of pleasure. Your release seems endless, marking her porcelain skin with streaks of pearly white. When you finally slow, you smear the excess cum around her face with your glans, making sure to glaze every inch of her face.
Jieun moans softly as your hot cum rains endlessly on her face.
“Mmmm…Thank you, that was amazing” Jieun smiles as she uses her fingers to scoop up some of the cum on her cheek, bringing it to her lips to taste. “You came so much, painting me so thoroughly like a good boy.” Slowly and sensually, she licks her fingers clean, maintaining eye contact with you.
“My face is sticky with your seed now, you did such a great job lasting.”
She stands up, and as you catch your breath, vision coming back, you notice that her skin has fully absorbed all of your cum, making her look as good as fresh again.
“Now time for your reward, how would you take me? Oh I know, I can read your desires and fantasies after all.” Slowly and sensually, she licks her fingers clean, maintaining eye contact with you.
Fingers dancing around her body, she conducts and controls gentle vines that hook round the fabric, peeling the layers off to expose her creamy skin under the night moonlight. She flicks her wrist again, this time thin vines once again springing from beneath the growth, writing around her ankles. You watch in fascination as more spiraled, winding around her wrists and lifting them above her head until the glory of her ethereal form reveals, breasts perky, fully exposed now. Two heavier ropes of greenery snaps forth and lassos her thighs, dragging them apart, before another one wraps around her torso, suspending her mid air, thighs spread, glistening folds exposed, fully helpless before you.
"You want me like this, don’t you?"
Voice full of lust and haughtiness, she’s a predator who is just so damn good at seduction.
She snaps her fingers again, and you feel a warmth enter your body, well specifically, your lower body, removing any refractory period, making your length hard again. You step in closer, rational thoughts fading as you are simply enthralled by the beauty and the delicious treat in front of you. Your carnal desires sweep away any composure left in you, forgetting about your quest at all.
Kneeling before her spread form, the scent rising from her parted lips smells fruity and sweet, intoxicating you completely. Her clit peeps from those delicious folds, twitching, begging to be touched. You inhale her odor deep, before flattening your tongue and taking a wide lick. To no surprise, it tastes unbelievably good, the sweetest thing you have eaten in your life. She gasps, hips snapping forward so hard the vines creak above her. Licking again with deliberate slowness, you trace every fold, swirling at every inch, feeling her increasing wetness fill your tongue, trying to consume more and more of her taste.
Your hands cradle her spread thighs for leverage as you drag her taste across your lips, then part her entrance with two fingers, sinking them to the hilt. Her walls molds into your fingers, leakage dripping down your knuckles. You push and curl, coaxing louder moans, never ceasing your assault on her clit.
"Mmm, you taste so fucking good," you groan.
You devour her, lapping at her fragrant pussy juice until your chin is drenched, fucking her slowly while your thumb flicks her swollen nub. The forest smells of sex now, painted by her slick nectar.
Your mouth glides upward, leaving her mound gaping, clit pulsing, needy and hungry for more. You move upwards to her hardened nipples, taking them into your mouth, tongue twirling around the buds before moving further, soft bites trailing across her collarbone, shoulders, returning to her mouth where her tongue answers yours with fierce ownership.
"You’re mine now," you moan against her lips with false belief that you are in control, pressing your weight so your throbbing cock presses to her opening. You slide in slowly, allowing her slick to coat your entire shaft, then you thrust your hips, spearing her completely. She cries out, back arching against the vine restraints. Her pussy slams shut around you, squeezing like a wet cocksleeve.
You grab her slim hips and start a steady, pounding rhythm, sliding deep before withdrawing to the head, then pushing back to split her again, savouring every inch of her heat. The way the vines stretch out her sexy body, tits bouncing perfectly, you could admire it all day but you got a job to do.
"Tell me how much you love my cock in your pussy,"
"Fuck yes," she moans, eyes rolling, "I love your cock, I love it filling me. It’s been so long since anyone fucked me like this. "
You lean down again to capture her lips in a sloppy kiss, her lips tasting sweeter, your tongue delving deeper into her mouth, exploring her possessively. Your own self-control continues to fray, the need to dominate this nymph slowly overtakes you.
“Gonna fill this needy little pussy up so good”. You pick up the pace slightly, angling your hips to hit that special spot inside her with each deep stroke. “That's it, moan for me... Let the whole forest hear who you belong to.” After a few more thrusts you spin her around. The vines flexibly twist and adjust to your desires. You bend her over, her ass presented like fresh fruit ready for harvest. A stinging slap cracks across one cheek; you watch red blooming before aligning your length with her slutty pussy once again. Driving in, you lean back and enjoy the feeling of her cunt suctioning around your shaft. "Take it, you filthy nymph," you thrust relentlessly.
Jieun gasps and arches her back at the rough pounding she was receiving.
“Mmph… ahh…”
Her inner walls contract and loosens with every squeeze around your thick length as you thrust faster, hitting that sensitive spot.
“Oooh yes, right there! Don't stop, please! Spank me again!” You do what any gentleman would do at this point, giving the left and right cheek equal attention landing a few hard spanks that causes her pussy to tighten in sync with every spank.
“Ah ah ahhh, Your cock feels amazing...stretching me so full…” the vines read her mind and spread her legs wider instinctively, almost forcing a split and welcoming you deeper. The lewd wet sounds echoes through the silent trees along with her escalating moans.
“I'm getting close already... You're going to make me cum so hard on your big dick!”
Yet as quivering pressure built, you rip yourself away, leaving her empty, soaked inner walls fluttering at sudden emptiness, desperate for more. She collapses forward , gasping, weight supported by the vine, wrists still stretched overhead, pussy flexing for your cock that is no longer there. When you trace one sticky finger down the ridge of her spine, she shivers.
“Why did you stop! I was about to cum!" she whines, begging in ways she probably would not do for anyone else.
“Count to 10 for me slut, don’t you dare cum before that.”
Karma’s a bitch, but here it is one hell of a perfect bitch. For some reason, although she obviously has all the power over you, she looks so submissive, so needy, so desperate that you know she would go through with it. So you align your tip once again, and thrust deep into her.
“10…”
You pound into Jieun harder and faster, relishing in her desperate cries and the slick squelch of her dripping arousal.
“9…8…”
“Fuck yeah, that's it! Take my cock like the insatiable little slut you are!”
“7…6…”
One hand grips her hip bruisingly while the other reaches between them to rub tight circles over her throbbing clit.
“5…4…”
“Hold it, you are going to cum for me Jieun, scream my name as I ruin this perfect pussy.” Your balls slap obscenely against her ass with each thrust, pushing both of you closer to the edge.
“3…2…”
“WAIT I HAVEN'T TOLD YOU ABOUT THE CURSE!” Before she can continue, one of your hands moves over, clamping her mouth shut.
“1!”
“Shit, I'm gonna flood this cunt with my seed... Paint your womb white with my cum! Cum for me Jieun!”
“I'm CUMMING!!!” Your fingers assault her sensitive clit as her pussy clamps down hard, on your pistoning cock, ripping and milking it as she comes undone. Her muffled voice ripping through the hand that is still clamping over her mouth. She convulses violently in her bonds, juices gushing out around your plunging shaft to soak your groin and thighs.
You remain buried deep in her as you recover from your high, before a soft voice whispers out.
“I was supposed to warn you about the curse, but I guess it's too late now.”
“Too late? What do you mean?” You say between pants, still deeply lodged into her.
“Well, to put it simply, a forest nymph like me was born with an uncontrollable curse. I suck magic off someone when I or my partner orgasms. All those adventurers were far too weak–well, except one–hence nobody ever made it out.”
“Warriors in the past trained in both body and magic, but in today’s world where everyone is born with magic, they abandoned the former, and their body is weak. Once their magic is drained, those weaklings would just lose themselves, so for you, I would say you probably have about 30 more seconds.”
Her sweet demeanor turns into an evil smile. You are not exactly sure why you guys are having a conversation like this while your dick is still deeply lodged in her sweet pussy. Well she allowed it anyway and you definitely are not complaining. Besides, it feels too good to pullout.
“Wells, if I have 30 more seconds, then I'm fucking you until I die.” You begin moving again, feeling her velvet walls massage your rehardening cock, sending jolts of pleasure to you.
“Fuck the way you squeeze me…. This hungry pussy is insatiable.”
“Wait STOP, I’m still sensitive. This is not how any rational human should respond.” Jieun tries to move her hands to stop you but realises that it is still tightly bound. She snaps her hands to undo the bindings but to her horror it didn't work. On the other hand, instead of feeling that you were drained of life, you feel the opposite. You feel more in tune with the nature around you, as if they are now answering to you. Frankly speaking, you did not understand what was going on, you barely heard any of Jieun’s explanation except the fact that you only had 30 seconds left, instinctively blocking out the moment you hear the word “magic” since you hate that word so much. Little did you know that honing your physical body, and being born with zero magic is the sole reason that the following events are taking place.
You continue grinding against her, savouring the friction, and you experiment, visualising the vine tightening around her wrist, and to your surprise it happens. They are now answering to YOU and not her.
“STOP please, what is happening?”
“Round two slut, seems like the forest has abandoned this slutty body of yours and answers to me now. Be careful what you wish for, you minx.”
You lean forward, turning her head, capturing her lips again in a searing kiss.
“By the time I'm done with you, this forest will be a witness to how thoroughly i will wreck this gorgeous body.”
The filthy promise sends shivers down her spine straight to her core. Her mind says no, by given her nature, her body is responding to your every word, becoming increasingly wet.
“Mmmph yes…. All yours.. Ruin me whatever way you want then.” Deep down, you sense some sort of relief from her, that finally someone would not be a one time fling, losing themself after a few orgasm, but someone who could really take her and use her body as she pleases.
You cradle her chin, thumb slipping into her lips until her mouth opens, her eyes, once smug, dominant, are now completely broken, submissive, full of desire. The composure has finally cracked and all that is left is desperate need and raw lust. You smile before fisting her hair with your other hand and yanking up. With all the power in your hands, you do perhaps what you yourself consider one of the most debauched things to do at this point.
With a snap of your fingers, the vines respond, whirling through air, coiling around her waist, ankles, before lifting her and turning her upside down, her world inverted. Blood rushes to her face and she pants, saliva stringing toward the earth. Your cock still painted in her slick throbs in open air, veins pulsing. You grip the base and slap her cheek with the shaft, leaving wet stripes. “Open.” Her lips parted instantly, that same obedience she once pretended was her own, now turns against her.
“Clean up the mess you made, slut.” You feed your length between her teeth slowly, letting her feel every inch stretch her jaw. When your tip reaches her throat again, this time she gags, making you even more satisfied. You kept pushing until her nose flattens against your pelvis. Filling her throat completely, spit overflows, making your balls slick . Only then did you start to move, slowly to ensure she gags even more, sawing her throat even more open. Each withdrawal earns a wet pop; each return draws a gurgle.
While your hips work, you yank her down until her smooth cunt hovers above your face. While she had to clean up your messy cock, you had the privilege of not needing to do that, since she had obediently absorbed the cum once again into her body. Honey strings from her folds, sweet scent filling you again. You peel her lips apart, exposing her swollen clit, and attack her folds, your lips sealing tight, tongue licking in a relentless rhythm. Her scream vibrates up your cock; her thighs thrashes, but the vines holds firm. You spear two fingers into her pussy, curling forward, demanding another reaction, yet just as her walls began that pre orgasm ritual, you freeze, lifting your mouth, denying her.
“Not until I say so, little nymph.”
You dive back, burying your face between her thighs alternating between broad strokes of your tongue and targeted flicks over her swollen clit, groaning deeply as Jieun takes you into her hot mouth, her skilled tongue driving you wild.
“Fuck yes, just like that baby... Suck that dick like you mean it.” Inhaling her intoxicating scent, you devour her with hunger, driven by the desire of wanting her taste to flood your mouth. Everytime she moans around her cock, you eat her more frantically, moving your tongue in frantic patterns and ways.
“Mmmm your pussy tastes even better now... Can eat this sweet cunt for hours. “ She tries to close her thighs but the vines keeps it spread.
“Please let me cum again.” You have other plans.
You pull out of her throat, appreciating how strands of saliva keep you tethered to her. The vines answers your silent order: they flip her back, lowering her in a spiral until her toes touch the ground. Before she can draw any breath, fresh vines jerks her arms behind her back, bending her forward so her breasts presses against a cedar, bark rubbing against her nipples. She gasps, two more loops yanking her ankles further apart, leaving her cunt split wide, glistening.
You spit in your palm, slick your cock, then drive in, one ruthless thrust that buries you to the root. Her cunt clenches again as you withdraw and slam, before raising your hand, spanking hard against her ass, leaving a good mark on her porcelain skin. “Count them,” you order.
She moans “One” on the first impact, “Two” on the next, voice shattering each time until the numbers dissolve into wordless begging.
Your rhythm turns even more savage, hammering into her as each slap of your balls against her clit send shockwaves through her belly. Sweat courses down your spine, but you are thankful that the years of physical training have prepared you for this very moment. When you feel her pre-orgasm routine, you yank yourself free causing Jieun to cry out at the emptiness.
You drag her by the hair, making her crawl towards a fallen log before throwing her body over it. The vines are still cinching her wrists underneath. You pull hard on the hair arching her spine, then lift the log with your new powers slightly so her ass juts upwards, face pressing into the ground. The angle opens her holes obscenely, and she shivers, knowing what will come next. You kneel, tasting her once more, fluttering your tongue over her clit until she tries to grind back, before slapping both cheeks until handprints show on her already red cheeks.
"You took me so well with this pussy,” you murmur, thumb circling her crinkled star, “Now you are going to take everything” You suck two fingers before working them into her ass while your cock nudges her cunt’s entrance. She gasps at the dual pressure. “WAIT!”
You do not, thrusting into her once again simultaneously with your fingers, that pushes past the tight rim slowly but relentlessly. Once the rim has fully swallowed your fingers, you begin to move, intentionally alternating: three thrusts with your fingers into her ass, two deep into her cunt, sometimes you thrust simultaneously, other times randomly. She babbles incoherently, hair messily sticking to her face. Despite her vocal command to stop she continues to push into you. After a few thrusts and sensing your pending orgasm, you bury your cock balls-deep, and your fingers deep into her ass, bending over to her ears and whisper, “Cum, you slutty nymphomanaic. Cum now.”
The command unleashes her. She screams into the log, whole body convulsing, asshole contracting like a vise around your fingers. That milking pressure drags you over and you release once again deep inside her, painting her walls until seed overflows and run down her trembling thighs. Pulse after pulse emptying into her while you hold her hips, gripping tightly.
When the last spasm passes you stay embedded, savoring her clenching aftershocks before sliding free. Her creamy pussy begins to drip onto the moss. You wipe yourself across her ass cheek. The vines slackens and she collapses into the forest bed, chest heaving.
You fall down onto the ground. You pant heavily, knees too weak without any strength to hold yourself anymore. You stay like this for a good ten minutes, with Jieun just laying flat on the ground.You then see her getting up, fingers dipping into her dripping cunt before scooping your cum and feeding it into her mouth. Jieun walks towards not you this time but your sword that is still plunged deep into the ground beside you.
You are so dead. That thought flashes through your mind.
“Wait Jieun calm down, I didn't mean to.” You scramble to your feet but you are so exhausted that you can’t reach the sword faster than her. Then she does something you did not expect. She swings one leg over the fallen sword. With her powers regained, she snaps her finger to ensure that the sword’s handle turns out to be as good as new. Then she kneels, knees apart, and wraps her slim fingers around the sword’s pommel. She lowers her torso, until her drenched cunt kisses the bronze pommel before swallowing the fat bulb in one slow sink, riding the sword’s pommel like it is a dildo. Without looking back, she bends forward, spreading her ass, the tight hole winking at you inviting you in.
“Use me. Fuck my ass one more time, you said you were going to take EVERYTHING right?” This woman is insatiable, and you shove yourself up. Blood rushes into your groin; your shaft thickening so fast it bobs against your stomach, and you don't know how but you regained your strength so quickly. One hand clamping around her hips, the other aligning your cockhead against that glistening ring before ramming it in. She swallows you completely, gripping way tighter than before as she screams into the silent forest.
“Harder,” she snarls, shoving back against you. “Fuck my ass like you own it.” Your fingers dig into her soft asscheeks, hoping you wouldn't bruise this beautiful artwork, a fake concern, considering how you just used her. You pull back until only the crown stretches her rim, then push back in again and again. Each thrust drives a grunt from your chest and a sultry moan from her. The pommel of the sword only serves as added pleasure for both of you. Each thrust causes her to grind down harder. Additionally, the pommel had caused her ass to be even tighter than when you had just your fingers in her, making her feel even more stuffed. Sweat drips onto her spine which makes her look even more sexy. You aren't going to last much longer given how weak your knees are and how tight her ass is, along with how you have already orgasmed twice.
Somewhere beside you, your eyes drift to the leather sheath of the sword lying beside. You snatch it, pressing the middle of it to her mouth. She opens instinctively; you slide the leather sheath between her teeth, silencing the next moan, pulling her back into you as if it's some sort of leash, not around her neck but her mouth.
You bend over her, your sweat-slick chest sticking to her back, and growl into her ear. “You like this, don’t you? Being used like a dirty little slut. Seducing adventurers cause you are a hungry dirty nymph.”
She nods frantically, moans-muffled spit seeping into the sheath and dripping all over her chin, before you yank the leather free so she could answer.
“Yes,” she rasps. “I’m your dirty little slut. Fuck my ass until I can’t take it anymore.”
Your fist knots in her hair, wrenching her head backwards arching her back even more. You pound without abandon, hips snapping, trying to go as deep as you can savouring her as much as you could, your stamina running incredibly low.
“Cum for me, milk it all out.” One more brutal lunge and your own climax detonates. Jets of seed flood her tunnel, pulse after pulse, while you hold and ram her to the hilt. Her pussy clenches around the pommel and your shaft, squirting all over the forest bed, defiling the thing that she was supposed to protect. When the last spasm fades you ease out slowly; her rim gaping, closing shortly after your cum leaks down her thighs. She collapses flat once again, breasts heaving against the dirt, thighs twitching. You drop beside her, totally out of strength. Seeing you collapsed beside her, she moves to lie her face into your chest, holding your hand and hearing your heart beat.
You both lie there motionless, your other hand wrapped around her waist, before brushing her tangled hair from her face. You trace a thumb over her jaw, before whispering “Mine,” then press a kiss to her temple, tasting the salt of her sweat. A quiet command from her loosens the remaining bonds around her body, before you both lie lifeless, admiring the moonlight that now peers through the forest trees.
“I am not quite sure what happened. You were the only adventurer who lasted so long and fucked me so well.”
“Well, I don't have magic, so you couldn't drain anything out of me. Osmosis I guess?” You ramble rubbish from your early education. “Your magic flowed into me for awhile cause I was never born with it? Or maybe i just fucked you too good into oblivion.”
She chuckles, smiling softly, happy that someone can finally satisfy her. “Not done yet are we?” “We’ll try something even filthier the next few times.”
And so that is pretty much what ensued in the next few hours with breaks here and there. But magic sure is wonderful, something you think you would never say, always accelerating your recovery. You bend her on every branch, use her in every hole, fuck her in every position , until she is fully covered in cum all over her body, not even bothering to absorb it this time so she looks even dirtier to fuel your desire. Eventually you are too spent to keep up and pass out…..
……
“Wake up adventurer…. Wake up” You open your eyes. Pearly white gates were seen towering over you, the bright lights warm instead of blinding. You do not remember what happened except that you passed out while deeply lodged in Jieun’s ass. “I guess I am dead,” what a way to go out, you thought to yourself.
“You aren't dead silly.” A beautiful figure emerges from the gates, along with a pinked hair angel that follows behind, face grumpy.
“My name is Karina, who they call the goddess of light, and I came to deliver a message.”
“What the fuck is happening?’
“Watch your filthy mouth when talking to the goddess before I kill you.”
“Calm down Gaeul, we need him for what is to come.”
“What is to come?” You ask while your eyes drift slightly lower at her well, huge heavy tits.
“You will soon find out, but the message is this, hone your skills, do not despise your magic-less birth, you are needed to be the vessel for great power, and you have already experienced some part of it.”
What in the world is she talking about? You are confused as fuck, but you recall the point where you had sapped and used Jieun’s power for awhile. So… osmosis is kinda of real?
A voice breaks your thoughts. “Here’s the gift of light, this power will surface in time of need," she leans forward, her chest dangerously close to you, before she plants a kiss on your forehead.
Can the gift of light be these tits instead, you chuckle to yourself.
“You know we can hear you right, you filthy bastard, I am so going to kill you.” The pink-haired grumpy girl called Gaeul snarls before Karina lifts her hand, silencing her.
“We will meet again, brave adventurer. For now press on”
“WAIT HOW CAN I FIND YOU?”
…..
“Wake up WAKE UPPPP.”
You woke up panting. You are now in an inn, on a comfortable bed, Jieun’s face just above you staring deep into you.
“You have been sleeping for 1 whole week , you sleepy head, time to wake up”
The smell of coffee and toast and fresh fruits fills your nose. Your stomach growls, hungry from not eating. You lean upwards kissing Jieun gently, before fully sitting upwards when another voice greets you.
“Oh look who is up. Welcome, fellow adventurer.”
Before you sits another beautiful warrior which you instantly recognise. The S-tier warrior, the prodigy, the one and only Yuna. You suddenly recall Jieun’s words “All but one survived.” It didn't hit you then but now it all makes sense.
“Wait, I thought you were dead?”
She chuckles.
“Nah, I just got bored of everything, prodigy, queen’s guard. Fuck that, here’s so much more fun, I will explain everything over breakfast, so please eat first.”
You stare at her, wide hips , pretty face, feeling some inner desire fueling again before she cuts you off. “Stop staring at me like I’m your breakfast, eat some real food first you horny bastard”
You walk over to the table grabbing a plate before devouring the food hungrily… head pondering over the word “first”. You get your answer shortly, Jieun coming over to sit on Yuna’s lap, hands wrapped around her neck, before leaning in for a sloppy make out session with Yuna.”
Your feel blood rushing to your bottom again before Jieun breaks the kiss and seductively speaks.
“You can join us once you are done….”
Happy new year everybody. 2025 was a really rough year for me, hence I did not have any time to write. I felt bad so here's a new year piece for all of you! I know many of you have been asking for SSC part 3, i dont know when i will ever write that but who knows! I think it has been about 2-3 years since I joined this community and I enjoy the company. so shoutout to @i-am-lifeform24 & @okaylikeschaewon for being so warm and welcoming me when i first join! <3
Hope you guys enjoy this! and leave comments ask thoughts or whatever heh
