~Ive's Liz (x Male Reader), 6.2k words, Smut, Cafe Cuties Part 7 (previous part)
Read it on Fanprose
A/N:
I'm never beating the allegations
Thank you @bunnsfw for supplying the cover art template! The goat.
Relationship with Chaewon? Restored.
Lonely Eunchae? Plapped.
Yunjin? Befriended.
With that, you can finally get back to your life as a regular cafe worker.
Except you're a supervisor now, and this is no regular cafe. It's Cozy's Coffee & Cakes.
[Ms. Manager (scary)]
EMERGENCY MEETING. STORE. 15 MINUTES.
That's what the text said anyway, and yeah, maybe youâre not so sure if itâs better now that things are normal. Yunjin and Eunchae are already there, a thread of seriousness lining their faces. The little bell jingles, signaling your arrival. It's like a conference room of some top secret facility, blinds drawn low.
"It's not going to work. Our menu has been exposed for months. Those posters we made teased our upcoming drinks. Tch. Cowards probably planned this months in advance." Chaewon says, squinting so hard you can even see them through the sunglasses she's wearing.
"But we have to try!" Yunjin claps back. We can't just let them take everything we've worked for!" She's wearing a blazer, weirdo.
"Hmph, let me do it," Eunchae says with pizazz. What is this, a spy movie?
"it can't be you," Chaewon says curtly, to Eunchaeâs dismay. "But maybeâŚ?"
Three heads flick to you, still in your normal casual clothing. "What the hell is going on? Why are the blinds drawn! Aren't we open?"
Chaewon slams her hand on the table, silencing you. "I told you 15 minutes. Try not to make an embarrassment of yourself first week as supervisor!"
Yunjin nods her head for you to come closer. "Bad time to be late, rook."
"Rook? I've been here longer than you! I-I'm your supervisor!" You say, but still follow her orders anyway. "And what the hell is going on?"
She picks up a folder with 'CONFIDENTIAL' stamped across it in big red letters. "See for yourself."
Eunchae tries again, telling Chaewon she's right for the job, and they trail off with their argument. You open the file.
"Baked and Brewed Seoul, grand opening⌠oh, that's in two days? Is that what all the fuss is about?"
The question draws Eunchae and Chaewon out of their talks.
"What else is in two days, Mr. supervisor?" Eunchae asks.
"Don't call me that!"
"Our new menu launches, Mr. Supervisor," Chaewon answers. "This is planned. Targeted."
Yunjin, the one you deemed to be the voice of reason for her⌠normalcy compared to the two nods her head in agreement.
"Guys⌠am I the only one who thinks this isn't a big deal? So what!?"
"We just got to someplace stable! Remember a month ago? We were about to shut down. Now Baked and Brewed Seoul is opening!? Where do they get off! Copying us like that!" Chaewon yells.
"Copying us? Aren't we just like, a regular caâ"
"Finish that sentence!" Chaewon challenges you. "Yunjin!"
"Baked and Brewed. Sound familiar?" Yunjin asks.
"N-no not really."
"What do you bake and what do you brew!" Eunchae yells. âCoffee and cakes. Weâre Cozyâs Coffee and Cakes! Clearly, theyâre copying us!â
"Are they? I mean, doesnât every cafe have coffee and ca-"
"No!"
Look, is it a big deal? Maybe. Is it a âdraw the blinds and whip on the blazers and sunglassesâ big deal? Probably not. But you've been here long enough to not question things. It's still better than getting face caked. So you play your part as they argue about what to do.
"It's simple! We need to infiltrate their ranks!"
"Infiltrate!?" Okay, maybe you're not playing your part, but you're trying.
"I can do it, General!"
"Since when is Chaewon a General?"
"I have a plan."
Eunchae is back in 10 minutes with: a long overcoat and a fake mustache.
"What the hell is this?" You ask.
Chaewon and Yunjin stare at it, deep in thought.
"Our disguise," Eunchae smiles as if revealing a key bit of information.
"Why the hell is it so big?"
"Duh, I'll sit on your shoulders under the overcoat. They'll never suspect a thing."
This is absurd. This is⌠definitely the Cozy's you remember. "Why do we need a disguise?"
"Because it's more fun. Obviously," Chaewon cuts in.
"Fun? What does this have to do with fun?"
"What's the point if it's not fun!" Yunjin retorts.
God. You might go crazy.
"No, no. Sergeant has a point." Eunchae concedes. âMaybe we donât need a disguise.â
"Sergeant?"
"Then it's settled."
"Just like that!?" you reply incredulously
"It has to be him and Yunjin," Chaewon decides.
"General, please! Let me!"
"You and me are out of the question!"
"Why?"
"We've been staring into their windows like, 2 hours a day while they trained for opening. They'll recognize us an instant."
âWait, what the hell is happening? We arenât using this damn disguise, are we?â
---
It's settled, then. Seems that means âno disguise, you and Yunjin will go in normallyâ. Thank god, although you still don't think it had to be you and Yunjin, but yeah, Chaewon and Eunchae are insane for staring into their windows.
"Ready, Serge?" Yunjin asks from inside Cozy's.
You roll your eyes at the nickname, but nod anyway.
"Make them pay!" Eunchae yells from behind the counter, making coffees for the short line of customers.
You both cross the street, and there's already a line stretching onto the street for their grand opening. Already, Yunjin notes their storefront is more appealing. Posters in the glass windows, a little logo a coffee mug stamped on everything.
By the time you're past the threshold of the door, the line has grown even longer.
"Were you guys this busy when you first opened?"
"No, I don't think so. Me and Eunchae got hired not too long after we opened, but it was pretty dead back then. Until you came, really."
"So I'm tasked with saving Cozy's again, huh."
"Is it really that big a deal though? I get it, it's not great for business, but cafes are one of the most common places. Is this really a threat to the store?"
"See for yourself," Yunjin pushes the door open.
You're instantly hit with the rich aroma of coffee, but also warmth. It's not the clean aesthetic of Cozy's. There's warm light spilling from antique looking lamps, the glowing fireplace in the corner roars, there are fluffy couches and wooden tables of all varieties, like each section of the cafe has a different vibe. A small bookshelf erupts in one corner, and chess set in the other.
If you're being honest, it's the type of place you'd go to to just, chill.
"Shit."
"Shit," Yunjin agrees.
There are already 3 workers moving with practiced precision, steaming milk with ease, counting cash at the speed of a gun.
You being you, of course, notice something else.
"Stop glancing at them! You'll blow our cover!"
"I-I'm not glancing."
Yunjin eyes you suspiciously. "I feel like I've seen that look before."
"What look?"
"That look."
"I'm not giving them any loo-"
"Welcome to Baked and Brewed Seoul, may I take your order?"
She's short, shorter than Eunchae or Yunjin, even Chaewon by a bit. She has a bright face, even brighter smile with cheeks that would probably be as fun to pinch as Chaewâ
"We'll take 2 of your lavender honey lattes and a slice of your cheesecake please," Yunjin says in an equally bright voice, but makes a point to emphasize the words to snap you out of it.
You go through the motions, Yunjin paying with the company card ("When did you get a company card? Even I don't have one!), giving the name for the order, and sitting down.
"You falling in love aside, these are really comfy couches," Yunjin says, plopping down next to you.
"They are. Like, really comfortable."
"Try," she says, handing you the latte.
You take a sip, and that first hit of espresso hits you, warm, nutty, rich, followed by the sweet aroma of honey and lavender, and you can't help but close your eyes as it washes down your throat.
"Fuck."
"Good?"
"You try it."
Yunjin omits a similar reaction as she sips the coffee, and an unholy gasp of refreshment comes after.
"Yeah."
You put your coffee down trying your best to look worried, but honestly, it's a really nice cafe. It's like all your stress washed away at the door.
Yunjin probably feels it too, the way she's melting into the couch.
"Should we try the cake?" you ask.
"You go first."
You pick up the plate, inspecting it. It looks pretty. You take the spoon, scooping up a piece and popping it into your mouth.
You smile.
"What? Oh god, is it delicious? Gimme some! I mean, no, throw it out!"
"No, Yunjin!" you exclaim, mouth full of cake. "We got them beat here."
"You're not understanding, we have better cakes than them!"
"That's not enough," Chaewon sighs. "It sounds like the whole ambience of their cafe could put us out of business." She buried her face into her hands, pinching her visage. "What about their drinks?"
"Pretty damn good."
"And their menu? Lots of selections?"
"Oh actually⌠I'm not too sure."
"What do you mean 'not to sure', what did I send you over there for? Tch. And their size? How many people can they sit?"
"Errr, maybe like, I don't know, a couple dozen?"
"âI don't knowâ this, âmaybeâ that, did you do anything useful?" Chaewon scolds. "How about their service?"
"It was⌠good," you admit.
"He fell in love," Yunjin teases. "That's why he can't answer your questions."
"With who?"
"With who?"
Chaewon and Eunchae of course.
"I did not fall in love!"
"Yes you did, you couldn't take your eyes off of her!"
"Who was it?" Eunchae begs.
"Psh, idiot cow falls in love with anything he sees," Chaewon rolls her eyes.
"Who was it!?"
"You know, I think I recognized her," Yunjin thinks. "Waitâ wait hold on," she pulls out her phone, frantically searching.
"I knew it!" she says after a short while
"What?"
"I freaking knew it!"
"Who is she?"
Yunjin turns her phone, revealing an Instagram profile with over a hundred thousand followers. It's the same girl who took your order.
"Her?" Chaewon says shocked.
"Who is that?" Eunchae asks.
"She's like, a coffee expert. She makes latte art content, home coffee brewing, she has a whole page dedicated to it!"
"You weak willed cow! I knew it! You're the type to oogle like a chimp at any cute girl!"
"She is pretty though," Eunchae lets up.
"You fell in love with Pham Hanni!" Yunjin laughs.
"I'm not in love!"
"Stop defending yourself! It's decided, my own supervisor is a dope!"
Again, maybe you liked it when there was turmoil with the girls. When everythingâs okay, things like this happen. And you're sure of it, you weren't staring. You weren't. And Yunjin just stands there, laughing at the chaos of it all.
"Guy like him probably wants the cafe to succeed."
"First they steal our customers, what, are they gonna steal our cafe cutie too!?" Eunchae cries.
"I'm not going anywhere!"
"Prove it!"
"I'm here! At Cozy's with you all! It's like my second home!" You're crying, grasping at anything to defend yourself, but you're not lying. It's one of your most genuine statements.
At the very least, they take it that way too. Eunchae smiles all big, Chaewon gets flustered, muttering something about how 'we like you too, I guess', and Yunjin just sits back, nodding.
"Listen, yeah she was fairly pretâ err, I was just pretending to be a doting customer, you know, playing my role for the mission! But I'm here now. And I'm gonna help Cozy's win!"
They deem it truthful, and the focus is back on plans and action. The steps you're going to take to keep Cozy's afloat.
The effects of them opening are noticeable, yeah, but you're still getting customers. Eunchae even has to leave the kitchen where you were gossiping to deal with customers ("Unnie, please! I just served everyone, let me stay here for a bit longer!")
"Hey, why don't we talk to the owner?" Yunjin suggests. "You know, it's been pretty busy lately, I'm sure they'd let us spend some money for some improvements."
"Yeah, I was thinking of that," you agree. "What if we installed a sound system so we could play music throughout the store?"
"Oh, and we can add some plants, maybe a mirror and some shelves, something to liven the place up a bit?"
"Who is this owner anyway?" You ask.
It looks like a ghost punted a little ghost football through Chaewon's soul.
"What's wrong?"
"Definitely not," her face drops. âWe arenât asking the ownerâŚâ
"What, why?"
"It's out of the question!"
Yunjin sighs. "Well, if we don't have a budget, we might just fizzle out. Then BBS wins. If only we had rich friends."
"BBS?"
"Baked and Brewed Seoul."
"Oh," you sigh. "Well, unfortunately, we don't know anyone riâ"
You and Chaewon face each other. "Liz!" You say in unison.
"Liz? Who's Liz?"
"That girl that always comes in. We're like, kind of friends right? She loves this place. She might just invest." Chaewon grabs some fruit from the fridge to prep, indicating the decision has been made.
"She hasn't been here in a while though," you noted, unwilling to concede you know exactly where she lives, "are we just going to wait until she comes in again? Who knows when that will be."
Chaewon smiles. "Don't worry, my dear supervisor. We're Instagram friends!" She abandons the fruit, pulling her phone out, and with a couple of taps, she turns the phone to you and Yunjin.
[_chaechae_1]
Liz! So, we have some ideas for the shop. Would love to hear your opinions as a customer.
The response comes immediately.
[liz.yeyo]
Would love the hear them ;)
Come by tomorrow, you're boy friend knows where I live.
"Boyfriend?" Yunjin gasps.
"How do you know where she lives?" Chaewon (also) gasps.
"There's a space between boy and friend, thank you very much!" you (also also) gasp.
You don't really have a valid answer for why you know where she lives, other than she blindfolded and fucked you on her couch while telling you to think of Chaewon.
"Have you been there?" Yunjin asks curiously.
"Yeah, you cow, have you?"
"I, uhh, I may have walked by her place once."
"Walked past?"
"Y-yeah, just randomly."
Chaewon's lips go into a line, as if weighing your answer. "Fine," she eventually decides. "Take me there tomorrow."
---
"Well, we can't just barge into her house and ask her for a loan. That's insane! We need a plan."
"You should've told me that yesterday! I thought you had everything under control."
"You useless supervisor!" Chaewon jogs to catch up to you as you cross the street. "What were you doing last night, huh?"
"Budgeting! Exactly what you asked me to do!"
Chaewon's demeanor changes into something jolly. "Ehehe~ I took a bath and slept for 10 hours."
"I'm so glad," you say sarcastically, but it's anything but. It's the reason you put up with this supervisor job. If it means at all Chaewon can finally have her rests days after months of overtime, and hours working just to keep the store afloat, you'd take on 10 times the work. "Well, should we get her a gift then⌠rich people like gifts, right?"
"Everyone likes gifts."
"Yeah, but what if we bring her some pastries from the shop. That seems appropriate, no?"
"Yeah, actually. Not so useless after all, are you, Mr. Supervisor? We can stop by the store on our way."
"Yeah. Uhh, how do we approach asking her then? Just 'cause she's rich doesn't mean she'll give us a loan."
"Let's just appeal to the business woman in her."
"Is she a business woman? Last I checkedâ"
"Last you checked, what?"
"Err, nothing. Sure. We can frame it like, she can help scale the company. Like an investment."
"Great, so we figured out 'we're going to ask Liz to invest'. That's literally our whole premise."
"You were the one who suggested the business thing!"
"I say we just wing it!' Chaewon lights up. "I have a good feeling about today."
You on the other hand, couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your stomach, but maybe that was just Liz.
It's the first time you've seen Liz in a while, and you want to run away. Her piercing eyes find you, and that sly smile takes shape as her eyes scan you and Chaewon. You've always been conscious of you two around Liz, all the way back to your first time meeting her, when she walked in on you massaging Chaewon's back.
It doesn't help that her dimple has magic powers. Well, it's not like you have hard proof, but you're sure it's up to something.
She pulls Chaewon into an all too friendly hug, winking at you while her arms are wrapped around her, and you think, even though she's not in her elegant getups like she usually is - just a hoodie and some sweats right now - that maybe you don't have to worry. This is Liz. Her and Chaewon have always had some semblance of connection, maybe you could use that to your advantage when asking her to invest.
She brings you up to her penthouse, and the look of awe on Chaewon's face is similar to yours when you first saw it; the centrepiece fountain in the middle of her fountain, all the art pieces scattered around, the pristine marble floors. You feign the same shock trying to keep up with the illusion that you've never been here before.
She leads you to a room you've never been in before, a living room of sorts where she invites you to sit on a grand couch, more comfortable than any you've ever seen.
She sits on a closeby armchair. "So, how can I help my two favourite baristas?" all velvety and luxuriously.
You and Chaewon catch each others eyes, and with a nod, she stiffly places a box of desserts onto the coffee table between you. "I hear you like our chocolate mousse! We brought you some and a couple other things," Chaewon says, and it's slightly odd hearing her customer service voice outside of work.
She shakes her arms in excitement, opening the box. With the pleasantries out of the way, and sensing Liz is clearly in a good mood, you nudge Chaewon with your elbow. "We were also wondering, so uhh, yeahâŚ"
"What?" Liz laughs, looking at you.
Shit, you're bad at this. And that damn dimple isn't helping you feel any calmer.
"What my supervisor means to say," Chaewon clears her throat, "is we want to⌠make Cozy's a better place."
Liz takes a bite out of a chocolate croissant, chewing slowly. "I think Cozy's is already a wonderful place." It's really quite genuine.
"Well, we want to make it better." Chaewon's demeanor changes into something more serious, and she leans forward. "But to do thatâ to do that we need money."
It's Liz's turn for a demeanor change, and you don't know if it signals something good. Her face straightens, she leans forward a bit like she means business.
"So, you're here for?" You've never seen Liz like this. She's usually smiling, using that dimple to control, but now, with her eyes are scanning as you ask her for her money, you think you'd rather have the dimple back.
"An investment," Chaewon says with equal conviction.
Liz's face remains, but underneath it, maybe in her eyes you can see amusement. Still, she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms. "And what exactly am I investing in?"
"Cozy's."
"Cozy's, huh. How much do you want?"
"40 million won."
Liz's eyes narrow. She shifts in her armchair probably worth double that. "That's a lot of money to invest in a small coffee shop. What do you make a month?"
"60."
There's a sort of tension in the air, and you don't know what to make of it. Whether it's a bad thing or a good thing, you don't know.
"The store, it's still been busy after that cake fiasco?"
"You saw that!?" you yelp.
Chaewon silences you with a hand on your shoulder. "It's steady now. But it's not enough."
Liz finally smiles. "See Chaewon, I love to invest. But not in businesses. In peopleâ"
"We're good people to invest in."
Her dimple comes out even more now. "You, I can tell. You mentioned he was a supervisor now?" Liz nods to you.
"He is."
"And yet he's been sitting here, lost the whole time. Do you believe in him?"
Chaewon stands. "More than anyone."
The words take you by surprise. All the teasing and scolding Chaewon gives you, you never thought she'd afford you that level of praise.
"Then let's test it. Like I said, I invest in people."
"Invest in me," Chaewon asks. It's bridled with passion, a promise she knows she can fulfill. But it is evidently not enough.
"One person can't run a cafe. It takes a team, and it's time for him to prove himself. Mind if I speak with him alone for a while?"
Chaewon sighs, but turns to you, nodding with a confidence you're not sure you deserve.
"Make yourself at home, then. I'll come find you when were done."
The echoes of Chaewon's footsteps are like drums celebrating your end. You can feel beads of sweat form on your head. It's all up to you now, and you don't know what awaits you.
What awaits you is a smile. And then a laugh. And then that fucking dimple staring at you (have you mentioned youâre scared of her dimple?).
"Uhh, Liz?"
"Well, I was wrong. You two could get even cuter."
"What?"
"Don't you see?" she laughs, "this is perfect! I pretend to test you, decide 'yeah, you deserve the 40 million', and you become the hero!"
"Wait, what? So, you'll give us the money?!"
"Of course I will. You both are just so adorable for coming in here all nervous asking for 40 million. Hell, I'll give you 60!"
Your head is still woozy. "Iâ I don't understand, why'd you want to speak to me alone?"
Liz stands up, scooting lazily beside you. "Because then Chaewon will think: 'Oh, my supervisor is so reliable'!"
"Again with this! I told you, there's nothing going on with me and Chaewon!"
"Oh really?" She stretches the words, raising her eyebrows. "Didn't you admit last time that 'she's so damn perfect'? Specifically, perfect while you fucked her?"
Oh right, you told Liz you've had relations with both Eunchae and Chaewon. To be fair, you were blindfolded, scared, and more than a little turned on at the time.
"Ohhh, she's gonna be so excited when she thinks you nailed it! You might even fuck again~"
"What the hell is wrong with you!" you yell.
"Oh honey, a lot. I'm rich, remember?"
Realization suddenly hits you. Although, maybe her motives were a little bit⌠outlandish, you were still walking away with this with your coveted investment! "Oh, thank you Liz! I'll go get Chaewon and let her know."
"Uh uh uh~~" Liz wags her finger. "I wasn't lying when I said I invest in people." Her eyes flick up and down your body, and a hand slides into her hoodie pocket, taking out the same blindfold she used last time.
"Do you just keep that on you?" You yelp, recoiling backwards.
"Oh, fine, no blindfold. You know the rules though, remember?" she slowly crawls to you on the couch. "My name is the safe word, and no looking at me in the eyes. Unless of course, you don't want your money?" She says, curling her lips into an obviously feigned frown.
You lean back, crawling away. Fuck. This Liz girl set a trap, luring you back into her house, and then, you sprung it.
She springs on you, trapping you on the couch. You almost look her in the eyes. In fact, she's looking at you in your eyes, so you don't understand for the life of you why you're not allowed to do the same. You can feel her lithe body against you, and you remember how god damn tight she felt around your cock.
No, you're doing this for Chaewon. Yeah, you're so strong willed that you're going to fuck this girl for Chaewon. At least that's what you tell yourself when she leans in close and whispers: "I'm not wearing anything under this hoodie".
Her familiar citrusy and obviously expensive perfume hits your nose, but you don't pay much attention because she takes your lips in hers. You almost forget that you're doing this for Chaewon, because you accept them with reckless abandon.
Remember, this is Liz, though, so you're not stupid enough to think you're ever in control. Her tongue finds yours and there's nothing behind it, no pretense other than she wants to play with you.
She's in between your legs, pressing her hips against your growing cock when you buck up.
She detaches her lips from yours with a smirk. "Mmm~, someone's eager. Been a while for you and Chaewon? Oh, please, wipe that look off your face, I'm just teasing you, now let's get this out of the way," she says, lifting your shirt off of your head.
You moan pathetically, and you can only hope Chaewon has taken up Liz on her offer to make herself at home, and that she's not waiting outside the room, privy to all the noises you're making.
The thought is wiped from your brain however, when Liz, all sultry, looks at you and says: "would you like to take off my hoodie?"
This has all happened so fast, but honestly, after all the months in these salacious situations with these girls, you're used to it. You nod your head sheepishly.
She props herself up, taking your arms by the wrist and bringing them to the hem of her sweater. You almost look into her large inviting eyes, but stop yourself at the last moment.
You pull the garment up, a little too fast, and she slows you down with a hand on your wrist.
"Slow down, honey."
Actually, you'd rather make this fast, but you guess you've done the deed with Chaewon right next to you, so this isn't exactly the most precarious situation you've been in. You're too stunned to speak anyway, so you slowly lift the sweater off of her, revealing her silky white skin, climbing up to her impossibly pretty nipples, already hard.
The tightness of it all, her lithe form, it drives you over the edge. You lift it up, and like the sweater, you drop, limp, stunned at the girl in front of you.
She hangs over you, controlling smile still dictating you. Until, she closes the gap, tongue poking out of her mouth before she brings it to your nipple.
Your breath hitches in your mouth, and your hands instinctively go to grab her hair. You stop yourself, unsure if it's against the rules, but when her tongue flicks your nipple harder, sending pleasure through your chest, you grab it anyway.
She doesn't seem to mind, switching from nipple to nipple softly.
Your cock is straining in your pants, and Liz props herself up.
Even with her hair slightly frizzy, she looks divine, unflushed.
You, on the other hand, are huffing and puffing. She grabs your pants by the waistband, mirroring that slow, teasing way of undressing that she forced upon you, sliding it down until your stiff cock is revealed with a pop.
Maybe you were wrong about fucking Liz again, because by the look in her eye, she has no plans to give you anything you want.
"Ready to earn your money?" She doesn't say it maliciously, doesn't say it like you're some street whore, but it has the same effect, probably.
Her hand wraps around you, and it's a bit cold, but only because how fucking stiff and hot your cock is.
"So much precum, maybe I was right when I said it's been a while, hmm?" She's not right, but when she lathers the precum on her hand and brings her palm to lips, licking it, nothing but strangled moans escape your mouth.
Her hand is back on your member, now coated in her saliva. The feeling is indescribable, her strokes are practiced, measured, as if any misstep would cause her to lose control.
"Nngh." Her hand is working you to squirms, her thumb rubbing over your tip in careful motions.
It's getting faster, getting harder to remain still, so hard you're gripping probably two thousand dollars worth of sofa cushion in your hands and closing your eyes in focus.
Every stroke is dangerous, every stroke could be the last as your legs tense. You don't know if it's for this reason that her hand leaves your cock.
You gasp, sitting up and opening your eyes, and of course, the dimple is staring back.
You don't look her directly in the eyes (as per the rules), but you can tell in your peripherals that the controlled look in her eyes is waning, like some untamed beast lies beneath it. You know it does, you've experienced it before. Her hand is still wet with your precum, and she carefully takes her sweats off, positioning herself so your legs are entangled, and your crotches are just inches from each others.
There's a slight huff to her breath now too, and she sits up, facing you. You can practically feel the warmth of her temple as she sits on the couch, and without warning, her fingers, still wet, pierce her sopping pussy.
It's a fucking sight, seeing Liz fingerfuck herself an inch away from your own throbbing piece, but she doesn't let you stop.
"Keepâ keep going," she huffs, taking her fingers out. She reaches over and slathers a bit of her own wetness onto your cock, before plunging her fingers back in. "Stroke your cock or you're never getting that money!"
You don't need to be told twice. Her legs are so smooth on yours, and when your hand wraps around your own cock, you can feel her legs shake.
"You're such a good little simp for Chaewon, aren't you? Stroking your cock like that so she can get what she wa- wants," she says. "Y-you must really love her!" The words come out all high and uneven, and she shakes again.
Your own hand is working violently, the sounds of Liz's wet pussy, the smell of her sopping cunt filling the air, it's too much.
You're slightly worried about how disheveled you two will look once Chaewon does return, but it's wiped as pleasure rips through your pelvis.
Your cock strains as you approach release, and you need to see more
"Don't do it!" she yells, convulsing herself, but still staring directly at you. The little space between you and her crotches is soaked wet, and you physically can't obey.
"F-fuck!" you moan, releasing a torrent of cum, but not before locking eyes with her. She looks shocked, bewildered even, but she's still rapidly fingering herself. Your cum flies in arcs, scattering not only on you, but on her. She too convulses as her release comes.
You collapse back onto the couch, catching your breath, but your moment of respite is short lived.
You think she's mad at first, the way her sweaty body appears over you muttering. "You looked me in my eyes."
She hovers over you, hair draping, and funnily enough this isn't the first time you think Liz is going to murder you.
"You saidâ you looked me in my eyes," she repeats. Before you can close yours, she wraps her hand around your head, forcing you to continue staring into hers.
Instead of the anger you expect, it's that same crazed look, the one that craved pleasure last time, only now it's present tenfold.
Her lips are back on yours, and this time it's different, she sucks on your tongue with abandon. "Why'd you look," she laments through abated breaths and sloppy kisses. "What, do you want me to fall in love?"
You barely mutter a broken response before she snarls at you. "You'll be punished for that," she says, the look in her eyes growing more lustful by the second. She shifts, mouth at your cock and licking up every drop of cum you've spilt.
And then she's back in your vision, and the rules be damned, she can't help but stare into your eyes. Every time you shift your vision, every time you so much as blink, she gives you a squeeze, so you remain, lost in her gaze. It's almost as bad as her dimple. Almost.
She climbs on top of you, eyes still locked. You can't see what's going on below your chest, but you feel a familiar wetness wrap around your cock. Immediately, it stiffens to full mast yet again.
She's ridden you before, but not like this. Finally, her eyes break from yours, and her supple body bounces on your cock. She screams out, turning back to pin you down but working her hips faster and faster.
Turns out, all eye contact does for Liz is turn her into even more of a slut.
She's not a crazy murderer, just a crazy horny rich lady. Cool.
Not cool. You chance pumping up into her as she bounces, but she pushes down on your chest, signaling you to stop. All you can do is sit there as she works to her own release on you.
It's probably coming soon, because her walls tighten around you, hugging, squeezing almost painfully as she quivers, collapsing on top of you.
Her body is shaking and light, and your hard cock is still lodged inside of her quivering pussy.
You wrap your arms around her form, ready to pump even more, but in a surprising burst of strength, Liz straightens up. That elegant look of control is back on her face, and you know even though you're still inside of her, pumping now could signal your doom.
The only sign she felt even an ounce of pleasure is her rumpled hair, and the slight pant in her breath. There's even a hint of disdain as she looks down upon you, slowly sliding up to free your cock. It's throbbing, practically bursting, and when she looks down and sees, her smile returns.
"I think we're done for today," she smiles, giving your member one last pump. "Get yourself in order so we can go let Chaewon know."
Fuck. Maybe you shouldn't have looked her in the eyes. You know how⌠moody you can get with blue balls. You make a mental note to jerk off later tonight so as to avoid any⌠repeat situations, but still, right now in the moment, you bemoan your release unhad.
You find Chaewon, twiddling her thumbs nervously in the kitchen. You silently hope she doesn't notice your unkempt hair, and although you've dressed and did your best to appear presentable, you feel dirty. It doesn't help that your cock hasn't fully softened.
She turns to you nervously when you find her.
Liz has this bit, 'to build the suspense', she says so you both walk in with heavy faces, until:
Liz smiles. "Congrats," she says. "Your supervisor just secured you a 60 million won investment."
The look on Chaewon's face is pure ecstasy, and she runs, no sprints towards you, arms outstretched, voice ringing in the air and jumps. You catch her, just to stop her from falling.
"I knew it, I knew I could trust you," she cries.
---
It's a pretty slow morning, which is nice. The coffee machine whirrs as it heats, the oven humming as cheesecakes and pastries bake.
It's supposed to be you and the new hire, but Eunchae texted the group:
Eunchaehey stupid supervisor, this new guy you hired has been staring at every girl customer that's walked in
[Ms. Manager (scary)]
What?
For real?
[Eunchae]
yeahâŚ
[Yunjin]
now that you mention it⌠I'm pretty sure he hit on a customer while you were in the kitchen last week Chaewon.
I wasn't sure butâŚ
[Ms. Manager (scary)]
Fire him.
Stupid supervisor hired another cow, huh.
So, it's just you opening. No matter, you came in early and you don't open for another 45 minutes.
You're experimenting with milk teas now, something to expand your menu, so you're pouring tapioca pearls into a pot of boiling water when a knock on the glass window rings out.
It appears to be a girl, wrapped in a hoodie to presumably protect against the early morning cold.
Your mind immediately darts to Karina. She always loved to get snuggled up in oversized hoodies, and your heart skips a beat (in a good or bad way, you don't want to deal with at the moment). But then, you realize, it can't be Karina. The girl in the window is nowhere near tall enough to be Karina.
What, just a customer then? You've dealt with this before, customers looking to come early. You ignore them and get to prepping, but she knocks again.
You see a smiling face you faintly recognize. It's warm, welcoming, friendly, all of the damn above of someone you'd let your guard down around, and she's holding a drink with the BBS logo stamped on it.
You shuffle over to the door quickly, confused but curious, and opening it:
"Hi, I'm Hanni! Your new neighbour!"
Small picture.
A/N:
Guys i used to yap so much about my chapters in authors notes but now I don't feel like it #DEALWITHIT
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I wasn't going to post this on Tumblr but I was always extremely proud of this fic.
It was written for @mysonesecret's thousand word challenge, and (yes I'm bragging), I am so honoured to have been one of 5 winners.
I say 'winners' lightly, because having read some of the other pieces, I understand just how much thought and passion a lot of writers put into their work. You can check out some of them here.
Deep and special and hard (innuendo.) to @azelfty for the beta read!
"Where were you off to this time?" The smooth voice rang behind Eunchae.
She spun in her garden, right hand dropping the rusty old trowel and right hand clutching the snow globe tighter to her.
"Oh, hi Adilar." She relaxed a little, wiping the sweat off her brow with her left arm. She gestured to the flowers. You couldn't call them vibrant purple, not with their wispy opaque petals fading into twinkling light that rose like fairies, but they were beautiful, nonetheless.
Adilar's face lit up. "Purple Milanaise's!" He crouched down low, and even in his excitement, he reached a soft finger out, touching a petal with care. "You went all the way to Milanaria?"
Eunchae nodded, crouching down low beside Adilar.
"Tell me about it."
"It was beautiful," she said, and she'd said it dozens of times before about a dozen different places, but that twinkle in her eye shined just the same.
"Did youâ"
"I did," Eunchae smiled. She placed the snow globe softly on the dirt of the flowerbed, not minding if it got dirty. She was happiest in the garden anyway.
Eunchae pulled out a little Arisite figure out of her pocket. The stone seemed to suck in the light around it, shrouding it in darkness - but in that darkness, it highlighted the figure more. Accentuated the stone carvings.
"It's a replica." She handed the stone gargoyle to Adilar.
"You got this for me?"
Eunchae smiled. "For watching the garden. While I'm away." She picked the snow globe back up, wiping the dirt off the bottom.
Adilar sat back, peering at the rest of the garden, admiring the plants, even fruit planted from lands far off. "It's a lovely garden. It's likeâ like you're bringing the world here."
That wasn't exactly it.
"Hey," Adliar's voice rang outâit was different now. Nervous. "Askar's rising tomorrow night. I just thought, you know, it's not always you can see the third moon clearly. The village is getting together on the old hill to see it. Old Jocki is lighting one of his eternal firesâ or you know, he's not that practiced as a fireward, butâ do you want to come with me?"
Eunchae's heart tightened, but so did her grip on the snow globe. "I'm off again tomorrow."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry, Adilar," she said, and she really meant it.
"Where to?" He asked, trying to mask his disappointment. "That's right, wherever you end up. Doesn't it ever get lonely out there? All by yourself?"
Eunchae held the snow globe tighter.
"You and your globe, I mean. What is it?"
Eunchae hesitated, but this was Adilar. She slowly handed him the artifact. He reached out, same careful hands.
"Wow! It's beautiful," he exclaimed. In the globe sat a woman sitting on an old Oak log, surrounded by flowers. Two new one's, a pair of purple Milanaise's. "This girl, her hair is so fiery it could put that old Jocki's fires to shame! Where did you get it?"
"I made it," Eunchae said proudly, reaching back for the globe.
She spent the rest of the day chatting with Adilar about her adventure, and honestly, she didn't want it to end. But the Sun set, giving way to night, to the soft green light peaking over the Horizon. Askar's light. It's not like she didn't want to see it, and even as her carriage left the next morning, taking her wherever she may go, she thought: 'maybe this is getting lonely'.
---
7 tri-moon cycles later, when Eunchae arrived back in the village, this time with no new flowers, Adilar was already in the garden, lighting fires under the infraroses.
She stepped out of the cart shakily. Something had changed on that trip. Even so, the grip on her globe never loosened
"What's wrong?" Adilar asked when he noticed her.
She sucked up her emotions. She promised herself she'd be strong. "Do you want to meet my sister?"
"You have a sister? I'd love to!"
She walked quicklyâ walking too slow would drag things on, make things more painful. Adilar followed until they reach a spot in the garden, right in the middle of it all. That way she'd be surrounded by beauty.
"Your sister is in the garden?"
Eunchae placed a soft hand on Adilar's shoulder, and he silenced. She held the snow globe in front of her.
"Hi, Yunjin," She paused, trying to find the right words to say. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I could only keep you here, trapped. I know your not really there, not fullyâ I-I know that butâ I wanted you to see the world.
"They saidâ they asked for you to rest in peace - fuck - and I know you. I know that's not your thing. You were too young to rest. You should've been running and laughing like you always did, you should've been exploringâ exploring the world like you always wanted to. But that was taken from you, and I couldn't accept that, and I'm so sorry!
"I'm sorry for every time I would sleep and leave you lonely in your globe, I'm sorry for those damn flowersâ I should've never planted them.
"I just didn't want to let you rest. I wanted you to run and jump and fly. I wanted you to see the garden come to life. Iâ I didn't want to let you go.
"But I have to. I can't keep you here." Adilar placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. "You have to move on. I have to move on."
Eunchae tossed the snow globe into the garden, shattering it. Wispy smoke rose out of it as the plants inside shriveled.
"Goodbye Yunjin."
Adilar crouched low to the ground, fixing the flower bed around the broken globe with those same careful hands. "Goodbye, Yunjin," he repeated.
Years later, Eunchae and Adilar would visit this exact spot, where a large Oak had sprouted from the remnants of the glass shards of the globe.
âI thought you said you were going to beat that one game?â
âI just did.â You flop down on the bed next to her, staring up at the ceiling as she continues her crocheting. âNow I got nothing else to do.â
âDonât you have games that you have to play?â she asks, focus entirely on the yarn in the hands. âYou have like, what, ten games you havenât played yet since the sale?â
âIâm not in the mood to play âem.â You let out a deep sigh, fingers rhythmically tapping at the bedsheets. âI donât even know why I got them in the first place.â
âThatâs what you get for buying them all,â she giggles, glancing at her tablet momentarily, holding up the in-progress-cloth. âWhy donât you play that one game?â
âWhich one?â You prop yourself up by the elbow, chin on your hand. Watching her fingers deftly weave the wool, admiring how good she looks. Light makeup, glasses that make her look delectably adorable, your flannel over the white top she has on. Youâre not sure if she knows that a hint of the black lace underneath is peeking out, but itâs not like thereâs anyone that isnât you have the privilege to see it right now.
âThe one with the big number,â she replies, tilting her head. âAll about paintings, from what I remember?â
âOh, that one.â Youâre not going to tell her that you bought that game full price and not on the recent sale. A game on the backlog is a game on the backlog, after all. âMaybe I should pick it up.â
âI heard it won a lot of awards,â she adds, face scrunching up cutely when she inspects her work. âAnd the storyâs got everyone hooked.â
âMaybe you can watch while I play?â You grin, knowing that sheâll be taking the controller from you at some point. Even on the intended difficulty, you knew how hard that game was. Add the fact that Sakura gets extremely competitive on wanting to be the best, and youâll most likely need to add a few controllers to the cart.Â
âLater, hun.â She smiles, turning to look at you. âI want to finish this hat for Sana first.â
âBut Iâm bored,â you whine, pleading with your eyes. Silently begging for her to give you some much needed attention.
âYouâre so needy today,â she teases, letting out a little chuckle at your dilemma. âCanât you play it without me?â
âI can, but I wanna play it with you.â That makes her melt, and her hand reaches out to boop your nose.
âSweet,â she says, making you smile. âI promise Iâll play it with you later, okay?â
âFine,â you relent, rolling back down onto the bed. Eyes gazing up on an upside down Sakura, whoâs gone back to focusing on the yarn in her hands. âStill bored, by the way.â
âIâm sure thereâs something you can do,â she says, her tongue sticking out, struggling at this one part.
Her statement gets you to think. No missed chores that you can pick back up, not in the mood to head to the gym after yesterdayâs leg day, donât want to play without Sakuraâ
Playing with Sakura is a thought. A fun one, upon giving it much thought. You glance back down to where the hint of her bra is peeking out of that tight top she has on, and even your flannelâas loose as it was on herâcanât hide how busty she is.
You move to sit behind her, arms wrapped around her tiny waist. Pulling her close, her arms come up to face level as she leans back against you. The face she must be making would tell you that she has an inkling of what you have in store to get rid of your boredom.
Sheâll still ask what youâre doing. Give you that raise of her brow as she gives you a side eye. Roll her eyes at you when you give her a noncommittal answer, like a shrug and a nonchalant âJust watching you do your thing, sweetheart.â
You let your hands slide underneath her top, feeling the milky smooth skin and the contour of her abs, fingers running through the hard muscle. She lets you, of course; continuing on with completing the beige âhatâ that you quite canât tell how far along it is from being one.
Your chin rests on her shoulder, the view of her deep cleavage from the top gets your fingers feeling frisky, and you gulp at the sight. You distract yourself with a whiff of her shampoo and her body wash wafting through your nostrils. It gets you nuzzling into her neck, lips leaving a peck by her pulse, your breath getting her ticklish and getting her to giggle.
âStop.â The playful way in her tone along with a small nudge of her elbow against your chest tells you otherwise, and your hands come to join. Touching the spots you know where sheâs ticklish, getting your fingers stabbing into them lightly that gets her to reveal the melody of her laugh that never fails to get you to smile.
It gets to a point where the yarn falls down to her lap, her own hands trying to get you to stop your assault on her spots. Every giggle, every laughâitâs intoxicating, such a beautiful harmony that you could never grow tired of hearing.
Doesnât help that her thrashing to get you to stop is unintentionally making her ass grind against your pants, her short shorts doing wonders for your cock thatâs slowly straining against your pants.Â
Sakura manages to end it, one way or another. In this case she puts her entire weight on top of you, trapping you between her and the bed. She grabs hold of one of your hands, getting you to stop at least half of your tickle attack. With a quick swivel around, she faces you, her messy hair along with the crooked glasses that youâre surprised managed to stay on her face takes your breath away.
God, you could stare at the visage of her angelic features. A goddess, right in your armsâsuch irresistible pulchritude that youâre even lucky to breathe so close next to. Combined with the fond look on Sakura's face, the softening look in her eyes, the slight shake of her head that gets her hair framing her face.Â
And that damned smile that gets you all the time.
âDo you have nothing else to do?â she jokes, straddling you properly, her grip on your hand loosening.
The fingers that are on her waist squeeze gently. âOther than doing you, not really.â
Sakura scoffs, rolling her eyes with a grin. âNeedy and horny.â She leans in close, her lips inches away from yours. âWhatever will we do?â
âI was thinking if you can maybe, hopefullyââ You raise your hips slightly, making her gasp when your erection is against her shorts. âPossibly help me out?âÂ
âAfter messing up my hat?â You take the chance to look down at whatâs happened with her work. It doesnât look that bad, though that's what your ignorant brain sees. âI should leave you blue balled for that.â
âIâll make it up to you,â you say, your free hand resting on her thigh, thumb running circles over the smooth expanse under your palm.
She raises an eyebrow. âYou donât even know how to crochet, hun.â
You reach up to fix the pair of glasses on her face. âIâll buy you new polaroid film?â
Sakura narrows her eyes, humming thoughtfully. Her answer doesnât come out quickly, as if she was actually debating on whether sheâll take your offer or not. It comes with a mocking sigh followed by a chaste kiss on your lips. âDeal.â She tilts her head, giving you a smirk. âHow does my honey want my help?â
âWellââ you start, already dead set on what you want, running your finger down to give her breast a quick squeeze. âThese would be fucking amazing on my face, sweetie.â
Another roll of her eyes. âYou and your fascination with my tits,â she comments, shaking her head at your antics.
âAre you complaining?â
âOf course not.â Pulling away to sit upright once more, her legs tuck under into a kneeling position, palms tapping her thighs. âCome on, hun.â
You follow her order, laying your head on her soft thighs while she pulls the flannel down her arms, the buttons of her top becoming undone enough to loosen the fabric and give way for her cleavage. Youâre already salivating at the idea of what sheâs offering, arm wrapping around her waist to pull yourself closer to her chest.
Your other hand reaches up, parting her shirt in the middle, that lacy black bra of hers an even more thought reducing sight on her than you realize. The exposure has you paralyzed, the one and only action you can do is let out a quiet curse at the fact that youâll be drooling all over those magnificent tits, followed byâ
âI fucking love you so much,â you blurt out, gazing up at Sakuraâs smug face, the adoration bleeding through her eyes.Â
âLove you too, you horny little shit.â The nickname gets you both laughing, and itâs such a stark contrast to what both your hands are doing that itâs a wonder how you two can get into these situations. Hers fishing your cock out of your sweatpants, yours pulling her bra to the side to expose the soft, mouth watering flesh underneath.
Her laughs become breathless once your mouth latches on to the pink little nub of hers, suckling on her teat like a baby. Giving them a little nibble as your other hand reaches up to grab hold of her other breast, wanting to give her as equal attention as you can. And even through all those layers, youâll never get enough of playing with her chest.
Sakura isnât idle throughout, spitting down her hand and wrapping her fingers around your length, stroking you languidly. It gets you moaning, your hips bucking up at her hand as your eyes close. The sweetheart that she is, helping prop you up with her palm resting at the back of your head too, making sure that you never leave her soft, warm, delicious embrace.
âYou look like a baby,â she giggles, turning to focus her attention to your cock. She thumbs your slit at every stroke upward, brushing against your balls when she reaches the base, her fingers hitting your every weakness like she was getting revenge for your earlier actions. âTake your time, honey. Iâm not going anywhere.â
The words only spur you on, getting you to suck harder, grope rougher. Youâre in a haze of pleasure, the pink nipple youâre nursing tasting so scrumptious that you wonder how much better it would taste like if milk were to ever come out of her breasts. You can only let out a muffled noise at the concept, biting down on her nub.
Her strokes grow faster on your cock, cooing such dirty provocations watching you lose yourself. The seduction in your ear, whispering how nice and hard you are for her, feeling you throb in her hands. Her giggles are temptation symphonized, words of encouragement coming out of her in droves as you worship her. Thatâs it, honey, youâre doing so good sucking on my tits.Â
Feeding you more fantasies at every groan you let out, thrusting into her hand in an attempt to chase your release. Growing desperate in her arms, your hunger grows ravenous as you suck fervently on her bud, with the only thing that gets you to stop was a one, simple possibility that she can turn into reality.
âI bet you want to fuck my tits so bad, donât you?â
That gets you humming excitedly, head nodding, your eyes finally opening to be greeted with Sakuraâs gorgeous faceâflushed and warm and grinning down at you. You pull away, and if you could get on your knees to beg, you could. âFuck, please.â
âStand up for me.â You scramble, your feet hitting the floor in record time, Sakura sitting in front of you by the edge of the bed. Sheâs biting her lip at the sight of you positively throbbing, leaking precum because of her. âAlready so close?â
âMe and my fascination with your tits.â Youâre putty in her hands, jerking you off slowly to keep you wanting more. And more she gives, when sheâs taking off her glasses and pulling her shirt off her head to expose her bra.
She makes a show of it, pressing them together to remind you just how deep her cleavage can go, of how big her chest is under all those layers of clothing. Baggy, fit, tightâall that doesnât matter in the face of genetics.
âStarting to think you love my tits more than me,â she says, taking hold of your cock by the base. She gathers drool in her mouth, letting it trickle down her lips and coating your shaft.
âKkura, sweetie, you know I love you a lot more than your tits, right?â you begin, hands resting on her shoulders.
âMhmm.â Sheâs smirking, enjoying you squirm. âYour point?â
âMy point isââ Youâre interrupted by the softest sensation in the world wrapping around your cock, your words turning into mush when she slips your cock in between her tits, bra still on to entrap you in the pillowy hold. âOh for fuckâs sake, can I please fuck the utter shit out of your tits?â
Sakura devilishly chuckles, pressing her tits together, the velvety embrace growing tighter. âLove you too, honey.â
Youâre fucked stupid, and you havenât even started fucking her chest yet. She starts it for you instead, fucking your cock on her breasts with this insufferably slow pace, letting another batch of spit down your cock, pooling into her cleavage. And the pressure is intense, thought shattering, god you need to fuck themâ
Your hips thrust up, making your tip peek up her breasts. That alone gets your thighs to tremble at the sensation, and youâre biting your lip in a feeble attempt to delay your fate. âOh my god.â Another thrust, and that unlocks the flood gates. âIâm never gonna leave your tits alone after this.â
âNot like you werenât already doing that.â She leans down, pressing her lips against your head when you thrust up a third time, and you can only help yourself with a curse slipping out your lips. âStarting fucking âem already, hun.â Another dose of spit falls down your cock. âOr are you all talk?â
The pace you set off the bat is harsh; hands gripping her shoulders firmer as your hips snap upwards. The filthy grin on her face as you watch your cock disappear between her breasts adds to the entire sight. Her hands dig down harder on her tits, the embrace impossibly tight that every thrust has the odds of you cumming down her cleavage.
And Sakura has no say as to when you will. Sheâs given you the reins, letting you whatever you want to her breasts, looking delighted at the mess you must look like by now. You can barely talk, completely taken over by the need to chase that high, and she knows it.Â
âCum for me,â she says, those three words making you growl. Your rhythm goes erratic, and you reach up to hold onto the back of her neck. âCome on, honey. Paint these tits that you love so much.â
âKkura, fuckââ
âPlease?â Itâs so innocent, the way she says it. Until the next set of words come out of her mouth, and all you can hear is pure, unadulterated depravity. âNeed you to mark me with your cum. Want it so bad, pleaseââ
You come down, taking her lips with your own as your orgasm hits, and your entire body is trembling. Your moans grow muted as the first spurt shoots up her breasts and hits her collarbone. The next few pool in her cleavage, a few strays staining her bra with your seed.Â
Her tongue plays with yours as you glaze her, her hands coming up to hold you upright. Her chest follows your hips, moving up and down your cock, each pulse sending another streak of white across her skin.
By the end of it youâre almost slumped against her, your forehead pressing against hers. Your lips linked with a string of saliva, her breath hot against your face. You can barely stand up, lungs in dire need of air, the only thing thatâs keeping you up are your hands on Sakura and her own on your hips.
Sakura leans up to plant a wet peck on your lips before she pulls your cock off from between her bra, ruined and stained full of white. âLook at that,â she breathes, looking down at the mess that youâve created. âIâll need to throw this bra away because of you.â
You let out a shaky chuckle. âIâll buy you a new one.â You move to sit beside her, but the aftereffects of your high cause you sagging into the bed.
âHun, please.â She turns to you with a playful glint. âYouâll just ruin it again.â Her fingers run down her cleavage, scooping up a dollop of your cum and taking it in her mouth. âYum.â
Her gaze cast downward, toward your softening cock. She takes a glance up to your face, that playfulness turning dark before she sweeps down to take you in her mouth. Your legs jolt, the sudden sensation of her tongue swirling around your length such an overwhelming feeling. It makes you crave for it when she pulls away just as quick.
âHappy now?â she asks, all casual and smiles. Like youâre not dead on the bed and on life support.
âEcstatic, sweetheart.â You barely have the strength to reach up and cup her cheek.
Sakura smiles sweetly, taking your hand in hers, her lips kissing your palm. âWant me to get some water for you?â
âPlease,â you say, and with another, parting kiss on your palm she stands upâcum painted in her chest, bra utterly ruined, and completely glowing that make you shout outâ
âHave I mentioned how much I love you yet?â
âMultiple times, hun!â
As she leaves to grab some well needed hydration, you canât help but let out a smile.
Boredomâs going to become your favorite pastime.
~aespa's Winter and Karina (x Male Reader), 3.3k words, Smut, Angst
Read it on Fanprose
A/N:
Forgot to post this on #tumblr
Written in like 2 hours for @dotoliwrites prompt! Weird, tried something different, idk don't judge I proofread like once
How can you live without love? Itâs in everything, in the way that she straightens your shoes when you kick them off by the door. Itâs in the way that she fixes your shirt lapel on date night, rolling her eyes and saying I lost the ability to love, not the ability to feel embarrassed. Itâs even in the way she goes to date night anyway, even if it is just for a free meal. Nothing else.
You donât believe it, any of it.
---
The wedding is a mess.
Will you marry me, Kim Minjeong? You remember asking it under the old willow tree, the one on the property you bought expecting a life of laughs and touch and love. You remember what she was wearing, that old sundress your mom gave her, âbecause itâs the same colour as Asian pears and she loves Asian pearsâ. You remember asking arenât you cold? You remember it was 3 months after the diagnosesâ the tragedy that rendered her incapable of love.
âI donât love you anymore,â you remember her saying. You expected her to look indifferent. She did, and it felt like she was throwing your heart on the ground and stomping on it.
âIâll marry you anyway,â you remember saying, like giving her permission to stomp on it harder.
âOkay then.â
You remember those 2 words being the most beautiful thing youâd ever heard. She probably doesnât.
You bawl your eyes out, and so does your mom, and so does her mom when she walks down the aisle. The dress is stunning, her makeup ethereal. Her hair is done up in the same way it was on the bride in that old movie she forced you to watch, where the wedding is exactly the type of wedding I want to have. Her skin is so smooth, whiter than the dress, but itâs getting hard to see with all the tears in your eyes. You should wipe them away, but then youâd get tears on your tux, and you donât want to embarrass her.
Sheâs just walking there, calm, indifferent, Sun shining through the stained glass window and hitting her in a way that no light could ever hit someone, except for her. Her gloved hands are draped lazily to her side and you just want to reach out and touch them, hold them, even if they are cold.
She gets up there, and thereâs a slight red to her cheeks, and you think maybe she can love, but you read your vows, and itâs raw and deep, you talk about how youâll care for her through the darkness of the night, the cold of winter, and the desolation of a feeling unhad. You tell her youâll love her, because you know deep down, by the way she fixes your shoes and your lapels that she loves you too, because she told you she always would no matter what, even if God took love away from me. You tell her that she looks beautiful and that she always will, and that your souls are eternally attached, and you wipe your tears away even though it makes her cheeks more red.
The whole room is a mess of sniffles and sobs, and when itâs her turn she says âI donât have any vows.â
---
She makes up for it later that night, right after all of the âare you okay?â questions.
âJust, so happy Iâm marrying the love of my life,â you respond, wiping your tears away. Itâs only half true.
But you're in the suite now, and her lips are chasing yours.
âItâs our wedding night,â she huffs, ripping your jacket off of you. âIâve been waiting for this all day.â
She pushes you onto the bed. She looks hungry, impatient, slipping out of the dress youâve waited your whole life to see her in like itâs lingerie, but her smooth skin, the lips you know so well are back on you in a second.
âMinjeong,â you cry, but her tongue interrupts you as she shoves it back down your throat, and sheâs wearing that same lip gloss you got her in high school, the one you saved up for months for, and you start kissing back.
She climbs on top of you, hands on the lapels of your expensive tux. âJust make me feel good.â
You scramble to take your clothes off. She helps you, unbuttoning your shirt and finding your nipples, pinching them softly. She grinds on you, your cock growing, blinded by one sided love and pure lust as her white wedding panties soak your trousers. She doesn't mind now.
It's a mixture, how you feel. Until death do you part, and when her pussy clenches around you, you think, is this really living? Am I already dead, gone, destined to fizzle out in this marriage with no love? But she makes you come while her tongue is in your mouth and you forget, and you hold her tight while she cums, and you think, this is romantic, both of us cumming together on our wedding night, but it ends and she rolls over on her side and falls asleep, back towards you.
You lay there for a while, huffing, huffing until the Sun comes up and she rises, turns around, says good morning before heading to the shower.
---
So it goes like this, and you tell yourself that your love for Winter will never wain. She can be indifferent, but she can still feel humour and horny and hope, so maybe you can live like this.
Sometimes she'll tease you, and even if it's not lovingly, it's not full of malice. It's something in between, like: "hey, aren't you going to take me out? I'm your wife, aren't I?" with a smile on her face and you don't know what it means, and you know it's not love, but it's something and you can deal with something.
Other times it's hard, like your two people just living, neither together nor apart, the string of fate, the slow decay of memories keeping you just close enough.
It occupies your being. Your whole life, thinking what if. What if Winter could still feel love? How different would your life be. Would it be like old times, where she held you, told you you were hers and she'd never let go?
You have all the remnants of a happy marriage. Fluff pillows thrown comfortably on all the couches, candles, a picture book from the wedding sat on the coffee table.
Sometimes, she'll sit on the couch with you, look through the book and say: remember how we fucked that night? Remember how hard we both came?
"Cafeteria food again?" a coworker asks.
Correction, it's not just any coworker. It's Karina.
"It's not that bad."
"It's sludge," she smiles. "Your wife doesn't pack you lunch?"
She's always like this, friendly to a fault, talking to you like you're buddies, like just because your desk is across from hers and she gives you funny looks when the boss comes in, all red and yelling because the quarterly reports are down that you're 'besties'.
"She's busy," you say. It's not a lie, per se. Winter still has goals, still has things she wants to do in life. Sometimes, you have to remind this to yourself: love isn't the only passion you can feel.
Karina grabs the empty bowl of the lukewarm soup you just had, scoops some of her rice, still warm and steamy into it. She places two strips of pork belly, hot and sticky with it's spicy glaze over top the rice. "Well, you still need to eat properly."
It fills your stomach, the warmth touching places you thought gone dormant, and you huff because your tongue isn't used to the heat. You eat it anyway.
"See, you were hungry," Karina smiles. She glides into the seat next to you, like this is a school cafeteria and the rest of the seats are filled, but it's only you and her and maybe a couple of others in the whole of the room. "You can have more, if you'd like." She says it all high, crossing her legs as if her pencil skirt isn't tight and cheap and more than a little high. "I packed extra, cause, you know, you never eat well."
You share the meal, silent at first, but then you start laughing when she impersonates your boss and his fake french accent and the way his mustache hangs off his lips like mouse droppings she says, which makes you laugh harder even though you have no idea what it means.
You stop off at the fruit market on the way home to get Asian pears, because they're in season and Winter wore that sundress the other day which reminds you of how much she loves loved them.
---
"You can sleep with her, I won't mind."
She says it to you after the company barbecue, the one where you held her hand and kept her by your side while Karina talked your ear off.
"What?"
"Karina. She likes you."
You're splayed all over the couch, food pregnant with all sorts of marinated meats, and Winter stands there in the door. She looks so small.
"You're my wife."
"I don't love you, though." She doesn't say it with force, doesn't sharpen the words. She just, says them because they're true. "And I can't imagine what that's like. To be married to someone like me."
"What do you care?" you say. Again, not sharp, just curious.
It's casual, it's uniform the way you and your wife are discussing the issue. You've talked about these things before, endured years of this, emphasized not in its grandness but in its paucity, and you've gotten used to it.
"Iâ I'm not sure."
You sit up a little bit. "What do you mean you're not sure?"
"I just know⌠I knew what it was like to feel loved, sometimes I still remember the ghost of it, and I think if I were you, I don't know, I'd feel sad."
You do your best not to break down. It would do no good. You'd be crying for her, sniffling and sobbing that you deserve better or I should love you 10x harder and maybe you'll feel something, it's my fault it's my fault it's my fault that you're like this because I don't love you enough, and all she'd do is stand there and watch.
So you bite it back, push away the love and say: "if it's okay with you."
---
You get all dressed up for the occasion. You're not really sure how this goes, you've only loved one person and you fell in love with her in high school, but Karina knows.
She sends you a picture, a mirror selfie, black dress that contours her ample breasts, cut in a way it shows off her figure those pencil skirts and blouses never could.
"She looks nice, have fun," Winter says. "Thanks for making dinner first."
You Uber to the bar, and she's already waiting there, and she must have done something with her legs, extended them because you've seen them at work and you've never let your mouth hang open the way it does now.
She flirts and flirts, and you even take a stab at it, tell her how you can't take your eyes off of her at work, how she's such a tease, always crossing her legs at lunch like you can't see how hot they are. It's not true, you're always thinking about Winter but she smiles and blushes and says I know, I can tell.
She takes your hand after the 5th or 6th drink, all smiles and that pretty little mole on her face, takes you into the taxi.
Her lips are on yours before the door even closes. She's so fucking warm it's insane, and suddenly you don't like that dress, you want it off. You whisper it into her ear, and she climbs on top of you. It's exhilarating, having someone want you the way Karina does, she straddles you at 60 kmph, moaning in your ear how she can't wait to get dicked down, and you moan back that she feels so warm. She laughs, says that it was bad flirting, but she kisses you and places your hands on her breasts.
The weight of them, or the alcohol, or just the presence of it all does something, and you're kissing her neck, swaying with the motion of the taxi, taking off her dress and latching a mouth to her hard nipple, telling her they're so big and weighty and fucking perfect.
"Not like your wife's, huh?" She groans, which only makes you suck them harder.
You have to be shunted out of the taxi, scrambling out and into her apartment.
She kisses you, rubs the bulge in your pants all the way through the lobby and up the elevator and through to the room. You pin her to the wall, plan on fucking her right there and then, but she puts both hands on your shoulders.
"Slow down baby." She drops to her knees, unbuttons your pants. Before they even drop to the floor, she has you in her hands, slapping your thick cock on her tongue. "I'm gonna make you feel so good."
She does.
It's not so much that it's practiced, it's the fact that she wants to be on her knees, pleasing you. In fact, it's sloppy and that makes it all the much better, the way she gurgles on it, the way it slips in and out of her mouth, that face she makes as you thrust into her.
You cum, and she doesn't spit it out, she keeps you in her mouth as she swallows it all down, before she gets up and drags you by the lapels of your shirt to her bedroom.
She drops her dress and you see everything, every little huff of her breath shaking her tits, the redness in her cheeks as you eye her.
"Are you gonna keep staring at me?" she asks, before bending over.
You grasp her by the hips and thrust, thrust and thrust and thrust until she's a mess of moans and groans.
"Your wife doesn't get it like this, does she?"
You're not even mad at Karina, she's been respectful to Winter and this arrangement the whole time, it must be the alcohol talking.
It only makes you thrust harder, pounding her. "That's right, she doesn't" you grunt, speeding up.
It's animalistic, it's full of passion, and the feeling wells up inside of you.
"Then give it to me!" she cries, cumming on your cock.
You pull out cumming, spraying Karina with your heavy load, covering her in your mess.
She groans, collapsing. "I fucking love your cock," she sings.
You fall back, tripping, landing on your ass, and Karina just lays there, satisfied.
She doesn't even question you when you scramble for your clothes, collect your things and go, go back to her.
When you get home, you're silent. You don't want to wake her, you don't even change or shower. You just climb to the foot of your bed where Winter is laying softly, peacefully, collapsing on the floor.
You weep.
"How was it?" she asks.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
---
Winter doesn't much mind what happened. The next morning she wakes you.
"You didn't have to sleep on the floor, stupid, go take a shower." It's even a little endearing, she can be like that sometimes. But it's never anything more. "You didn't answer me last night."
"Hmm?" you say through the hangover and emptiness.
"I asked you how it was."
"Great," you reply. It won't hurt her anyway.
She smiles. "Better than me?"
You look away.
"I'll change your mind," she says, confident. "Go shower."
You don't doubt her. You know she'll jump on you tonight, ask you to fuck her, make her feel the way you made Karina feel, and you'll know deep down that she can't feel the way Karina felt.
You're sitting on the swinging bench in the backyard when Winter comes with a glass of water.
"What are you feeling right now?" she asks it like a scientist, like she already has a hypothesis and only needs to confirm them.
"I don't know," you reply.
"Tell me," she says.
"What's the point? You won't care anyway."
"I still care about you," she says, sitting down. "I just don't love you."
It stings again. "I'm sad."
"I can feel sad."
"It's worse than sad."
"But why? She was hot. You had sex."
"Because I love you. I can't explain it."
"Just try," she asks. You don't know what's going on in that head of hers.
"I want you more than anything in the world."
"You already have me, I'm your wife."
"It's not enough."
"I don't get it," she says. It's not hostile, just, rough around the edges.
"I want you forever."
"You have me forever."
"I want you to wantâ" you stop yourself. It's not her fault she can't love you. You don't want to get mad at her for that.
"I'm trying," she says. You know she is, you know if it were up to her she'd take down the live laugh love sign in your kitchen, or stop going out on valentines day, maybe just relax on anniversaries. "Do you remember when you built this bench?" she asks.
"No. Yes."
"High school shop class. You said it would be for our kids, since you always wanted a swinging bench." She's still not looking at you, still just looking out at your front yard. "Do you still want kids?"
You recoil in on yourself. You haven't thought of that in a while. No, that's not true. you think about it all the time, what it would be like to have kids. To have someone that you could love, have someone that could love you back.
You turn to her, serious now. She looks back. "One day, I'd have to tell them their mother doesn't love them. That she can't."
"But you would love them." She's serious too.
"I can't ask you to do that just for me."
"I think it'd be nice to have someone running around the yard."
"But you wouldn't love them."
"I could try."
It's confusing. You don't understand how a creature like her, incapable of love could make a decision like this. "It'd be pointless."
Something switches on her face, not recognition or even hurt, just a flicker. "You'd love them enough for the both of us, even if it is pointless."
She climbs on top of you that night, and she's still a bit cold, but warmer than usual. She closes her eyes when you kiss her neck, and she even kisses yours. She rides you and you cum inside and she says "I hope it's a girl."
---
It's a boy, and maybe it's pride, maybe it's dedication, maybe it's just an animalistic instinct to protect your blood, but she still hugs him when he asks for it, she still claps and smiles at his graduation, still squeezes your hand when he's standing at the altar, waiting for his wife to walk down and start their life lead with eternal love.
And you, you love the kid and he loves you back, he still comes back to hug the both of you and say I love you so much thank you for raising me and you cry back and Winter holds the both of you. He still comes back to play catch and to eat mom's cooking, because she started to cook when he was born.
You don't know if it's love or pride or that animalistic instinct, but you know that you love her and the kid, and that even if she can't love you back, you lived a life full of it.
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a/n : Well, though I wished to expand this a lot further, I have decided to post this as is. I may venture to expand in the future. Not now. Was written for @azelfty and @jmuns-kpop's prompt: "From Time to Time"
Better read on Fanprose
You damn near crash onto the train carâs grab handle, panting. Glance at the stationâs scratched, seldom cleaned clock, its minute hand is nay a hairâs breadth away from striking the thirty-minute mark. Climb aboard as soon as you catch your breath. No reserved seating, any empty bench is fair game. Find one on the left. As soon as you drop into it, the conductor blows his whistle and steam hisses from the locomotiveâs undercarriage as its pistons work to pull the consist forward.
You made it, not a moment sooner. Panting and huffing almost harder than the locomotive, you lean against the open window frame and let your heavy eyelids settle.
âExcuse me, mister! Tickets please!â The conductorâs stern voice jolts you awake. Your hands roam your pockets faster than your brain regains its bearings, finding the small piece of paper after passing the same pocket thrice. âHâHere you go, conductor. Pardon me.â
The conductorâs wrinkled cheeks tug up as he smirks, checking your ticket and stamping it. âI saw you scramble to this train like your tailâs on fire.â He hands your ticket back with a soft chuckle. âWhatâs a young fella like you in such a hurry for in that quiet little town anyways?â
You squint and rub your face, peering at the outside. âHow far along has the train gotten, sir?â He flips his pocket watch open, clicking his tongue at the same frequency as the second hand. âWe just passed the Lorraine Tunnel. Albrecht Tunnel isâŚfifteen kilometers.â
You nod. âHow about the next stop?â
âThatâll be Darmstadt am Gelbbach, four kilometers after the Albrechtâyou didnât answer my question, mister,â he tilts his head, closing his watch. âOh, do forgive me. What was the question? IâŚI didnât catch it.â
The conductor sighs and lowers himself next to you, bracing on the front bench. âWhat exactly had you running like the devil himself was on your tail? Seven years I worked this line. Never seen anyone done that. Not in that quiet little town.â You shift in your seat as you process his question. He chuckles gently, raising his hand. âExcuse me if I come off as prying. I am merely curious.â
You rub your hands together. Lower your head, your lips weakly curving in the opposite direction. âWell, last nightâs drinking didnât do my schedule any favors, firstly. But uh, IâŚone could say I was fleeing from my own devils, sir.â
âHm. Weighted answer for a young man. Something you could share with me, mister?â
You look towards his face. His shaded wrinkles carry history, likely as long as youâve been alive. A history you donât wish to pile yours onto, not right now. âNo sir, it is not. Forgive me.â
The conductor bursts out laughing, stirring a few other passengers in their sleep. âNo need to apologize for that, mister. Weâre entitled to our privacy in this here country.â He rises from the seat, straightening his faded blue jacket. âWell, Iâll leave you to your own devices. May you escape thoseâŚdevils of yours.â He tips his hat and starts walking away, then stops and turns around after two paces. âOr perhapsâŚtheyâre something you need to stop for,â he remarks quietly, almost to himself. âSafe travels, mister. Good day.â He turns around and walks again before you could reply.Â
Your head rests on the window frame again, trying to catch more sleep. Your eyes drift to the carriageâs interior lighting and scoff. The recent war means oil supply routes are still disrupted, be it crude oil or whale oil. This carriage was just retrofitted for oil lamps before the war, and now itâs back to candles.Â
âThat cursed war. All for what? Three long years for a morsel of land in the northeast?â Your nails dig into the old varnished wood. Your gazing is interrupted by the glint of an old businessmanâs silver ring, pointing towards the landscape while muttering something to what seems to be his wife. Or mistress.Â
âNo, no, certainly not. It's the coin. It always comes back to the coin. Those greedy, snivelling sycophants we call businessmen will do anything for the damn things.â You fish out your wallet from your jacketâs inner pocket. Pull out a wrinkled banknote, stare at it, squinting. âJust how do you yield such power?â
You fold it between your fingers, resting your elbow on the window. âThe power to raze lands, sink ships, takeâŚâ Breath catches in your throat, images flashing as a stark reminder. âTake away families. Men. Wives. Children.â Your eyes scan the cabin, spotting the few ladies travelling onboard. One sits at the very front right, next to the gangway.Â
She isnât as covered as the others, long silky hair flowing freely over her shoulders. Clothingâs pristine white. Thin, too. Seems like her skin is visible through the fabric. You raise a brow, murmur to yourself. âNow what are you doing wearing that in winter? All the mud and cold must be a right bother forââ The lady turns her head, exposing her side profile. Your blood drops several degrees, shifting backwards in your seat.Â
âNoâŚno, thatâcanât be. NotâŚI must be mistaken.â Caught between avoidance and curiosity, you lean back and angle your head at the same time, trying to get a better look at the woman. âWandering willows! Doyeon? Kim Doyeon?â Mouth babbles silence, fingers mapping wrinkles on your pants. Something caught in your throat and you cough loudly, tapping your chest.Â
The lady looks over entirely upon hearing it, her face displayed in full. You yelp and duck behind the front bench, hunching over. âNoâŚhow? How could she possibly end upâŚall the way out here?â
You spend the next several minutes tucked behind the front bench, peeking out once the train approaches the tunnel. Flinch back down. She seems to be frozen in that last position. The train enters the Albrecht tunnel and you feel a great wind upon you. Its strength is uncanny, blowing around loose dirt, papers and cloths. The cabin is plunged into darkness as the candles are blown out. And then it feels like your consciousness is being blown away as well, eyelids falling against your will, the deafening thrash of wind fading awayâŚ
âExcuse me, mister! Tickets please!â The conductorâs voice jolts you awake. You look around, youâre back to leaning against the open window. Brain isnât hazy like it usually is after a nap. âDidnâtââ Throat is dry. âDid you not check my ticket sometime ago, sir?â
The conductor grumbles. âNo sir, I did not. I left you for last âcause I didnât wish to disturb your slumber. But I gotta check your ticket eventually, donât I?â He chuckles and extends his palm. You find the ticket right away, seeing that it doesnât have the conductorâs stamp. He takes it and gives it one.Â
âI saw you scramble to this train like your tailâs on fire.â He hands your ticket back with a soft chuckle. âWhatâs a young fella like you in such a hurry for in that quiet little town anyways?â
âWhââ That question again. Didnât you go through this already? Was that a dream? Didnât feel like a dream. You remember it like it was mere minutes ago. âIâŚitâs not something Iâm comfortable sharing as of yet, sir. Forgive me.â
The conductor laughs. âNo need to apologize for that, mister. Weâre entitled to our privacy in this here country.â He adjusts his hat and straightens his faded blue jacket. âWell, Iâll leave you to your own devââ
âWait! WhereâŚwhere are we, conductor? How far along have we gotten?â
He flips his pocket watch open, clicking his tongue at the same frequency as the second hand. âWe just passed the Lorraine Tunnel. Albrecht Tunnel isâŚfifteen kilometers.âÂ
Your brows furrow, breath hangs heavy. âHow about the next stop?â
âThatâll be Darmstadt am Gelbbach, four kilometers after the Albrecht. Plenty of time until your stop, mister. Get some shut-eye. I can wake you up if you wish?â
You look out the window. Youâre not terribly familiar with the landscape, but it does seem like the same one you passed. âNo need, sire. Thank you.â
He nods. âVery well. Anything else I can help you with, mister?â
There is something. Itâs right on the tip of your tongue. What is it? âNo, sir. Have a good day.â
âLikewise, mister. Safe travels.â He tips his hat and walks away. Your eyes follow him all the way to the front gangway and there she is. Same spot. Same questionably thin and pearly layers. SameâŚunmistakable spitting image of Kim Doyeon.Â
Keep your flappy mouth shut this time. Look away, donât acknowledge her. Donât acknowledge it. Act like nothing is out of order. âJustâŚcoincidences. Thatâs it.â A glint from the front catches your eye. That same old businessman with the silver ring, pointing towards the landscape while muttering something to his lady companion of unclear relation. You swallow a dry gulp. âDisturbingly alignedâŚcoincidences. But coincidences nonetheless. What did that Nâdhia priest say that time? Dreams are windows into other worlds? Oh, wandering willows! Shut up, man!â
And you do. Head locked towards the landscape, which eventually gives way to the hills which the Albrecht Tunnel cuts through. The locomotiveâs smokestack enters, steam puffs up behind it, then your carriage enters.Â
Winds surge through the interior again, not the sort that tunnels cause. Not this strong and loud. Not in this weather. Various light objects get blown around again. The candles blown out, cabin plunged into darkness. âNo, no, noâŚâ And your eyes. Your eyes grow heavy and begin shutting, ferrying away your consciousness despite your best efforts to will it still. The winds fade out, your body feels lightâ
âExcuse me, mister! Tickets please!â
You awake with an exasperated whine. âWhat on earth is happening?â You pant, eyes bouncing around.
âWell, as the conductor it is my duty to check your legitimacy as a passengerââ
âOh, forânot that!â Your lash at the conductor turns a few heads towards you. Hers included? Donât know, not looking. âForgive me, sir. Here you go.â Your hands move on muscle memory at this point. He scrutinizes you for a moment before stamping the ticket.
âI sawââ
âAre you going to say something about me scrambling to this train like my tailâs on fire?â
He lets out a hum. âAs a matter of fact, I was. Verbatim.â His eyes squint as he leans in slightly. You cut him off just as he reopens his mouth, âAndâŚand, what about, um. Where are we? How far has the train gotten?â
The conductor leans back and opens his pocket watch. âWe just passed the Lorraine Tunnel. Albrecht Tunnel isâŚâ
âFifteen kilometers. Nearest stop is Darmstadt am Gelbbach, four kilometers after it,â you murmur, completing the sentence in the conductorâs cadence. He scoffs, closing his watch and resting his elbow on the front bench. âBy the Lord.â Leans in closer, his voice just enough to reach you. âYou read minds, mister?â
You exhale a tight breath, your leg trembling. âNo sir, I do not. MerelyâŚconfirming something.â
The conductor hangs for a bit before standing straight, adjusting his hat. âWell, I sincerely hope you received yourâŚconfirmation, mister. Safe travels.â He turns away and walks a few paces before you once again interrupt him.
âWait! Wait, IâI need to ask something else, sir.â
He sighs and turns around slowly, his lips stretched. âAnother one of your confirmations, mister?â
âNo. No, I truly must ask you something.â
He puts away his stamp. âWhat is it?â
You crane your head around him, getting a better view of the front. âWhere did that lady in white board get on?â
The conductor looks behind him for several seconds, scanning it and glancing at you a few times. âWhat lady in white?â
You click your tongue and point at her seat. âThat lady in white. Whiter than the northern snow. Right upfront, sat next to the gangway.â
âMisterâŚâ He pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. âAs much as I try to be of service, entertaining your pranks falls beyond my responsibilities.â
âNo! This is no prank, I swear! Is there not a lady in white sitting there?â
âNo, sir. There is none. Or anybody, for that matter. Seatâs been empty since we set off all the way back in Port Carrilho.â
A quivering breath escapes you, your legs bouncing harder. âThâthank you, conductor. Good day.â He continues his walk, pauses near the seat to look it over. Not five seconds pass before he shrugs it off, truly seeming to not see anybody in that seat. Even when you see her clear as day.
You keep your eyes on her. She turns her head, first partly, then faces you squarely. It sends the same shiver down your spine, but this time youâre transfixed. Her lips curve up into a full smile, though not reaching her eyes. You remain like that for the subsequent minutes. Frozen, staring, mind galloping in so many different directions it comes up blank. The tunnel comes and the candles are blown out. The cycle restarts.
Same line, same wake up. You gently bar off any and all curious inquiry from the conductor, sticking to the bare necessities of exchanges. Sure enough, there she is again. You realize this will keep happening. Again and again and again, until you do something about it. Only one direction to go.
You know. You tell yourself that. But you donât move. Shift in your seat, sliding all over the place. Arms and legs tremble now, briefly inviting the curiosity of the passenger right in front of you. Takes so long for you to finally progress that the tunnelâs fast approaching by the time youâre on your feet. Two long, tense steps in and itâs over. Candles out, start again.
This rinse and repeat continues, each time you cover more distance. Theyâre small increments, the carriageâs shaking of no help. The last four meters though, youâre way too frustrated to hesitate. Make a mad dash, stopping just in front of the gangway. Clench your fists hard and turn around slowly, a miniscule sliver of hope hanging by a thread. Hope that sheâll be gone and this was all an agonizingly long and convoluted dream.Â
âDâDoyeon?â Your voice comes out coarser than the railroadâs old ballasts.
Sheâs right there. Up close. Surreal. Her red lips curve up just a bit further. âHello, darling.â That is indeed Doyeonâs voice. But thereâs something off about it you canât grasp. You can tell, even after over three years of not hearing it.
Now you look her down, something in general isnât quite right. Slick, voluminous black hair frames her sharp features. Makeup that enhances them further, she looks like a damn aristocrat. Youâve never seen Doyeon like this. Never had the money to.Â
âWell? Are you going toâŚstand there for the entire journey?â She points with her chin and pats the spot next to her. âCome, sit.âÂ
You keep your eyes on Doyeon as you sheepishly approach the seat. Her attire is practically the exact opposite of her luxurious getup above the shoulder. A simple corset covers her chemise. Below it a pair of drawers, not covered by a petticoat. All very basic, very clean.Â
âHow do you do?â she says casually.Â
Your mouthâs gone dry, lubricate it first. âWhâŚdidâhow are you here, Doyeon? AndâŚwhy are you in these?â Your arms reach out by instinct, trying to cover her. She crosses her legs, cancelling that reaction. âWhat do you mean why?â
âLook how thin these are! You get cold easily, and these are utterly inappropriate for travel! Nowhere beyond the bed is thisâŚappropriate.â Your heart drops again. This attire is no mistake, it is the spitting image of what Doyeon wore that night. The night you left.
âYouâŚyouâre not Kim Doyeon, are you?â You slide away from her in your seat, back against the window. âWho are you? What are you? What have you done to me? To this train? Why do events keep repeating?â
Doyeonâs smile shrinks to a bare semblance of one as she looks forward, sighing. âYou are asking the wrong questions, darling.â She turns to face you again. Despite her expression unchanging, the air it carries is different. âThe only questions to be asked are for yourself. Regarding what happened between you and this woman.â You recoil as she shifts closer. âSo ask away,â she whispers.
âI havenât the foggiest idea what you mean by that.âÂ
Doyeon chuckles, stretching her arms and legs to occupy as much space as possible which makes you shrink. âOh, you know. You know it very well, darling. You always have. And yetâŚâ she trails off.
Youâre further agitated. Insides feel like they go in two different directions. Conscious you wants to keep protesting. Subconscious you hears her, he does have an inkling as to what sheâs referring to, but not quite courageous enough to communicate.
It ultimately results in nil, just squinting with your mouth hung open. Doyeon claps her hand and rolls her eyes, sitting up straight. âVery well. Iâll get us started. Gone through these cycles enough, havenât you?â She licks her lip and begins, âWhy did you leave?â
And weâre off. âIâŚit. It wasâŚâ
âAvoid any embellishments. Why did you leave this woman? At twilight, without a word?â
Deep breaths. Annoyance rises within you, even as its presence is well understood. âIt wasnâtâI left a letter.â
âYou left a letter,â she mocks. âAny literate fellow might as well have written her that letter.â
âAre youââ Heat rises in your chest. âIs that what all this is about? Punishment for my ignorance that evening? Curse me to be confined to this train, never to see another twilight?â
âUgh, you keep doing that,â she growls. âYou asked for this, you know.â
âWhat?!â Youâre properly angry now. âAsked for this, how? What do I keep doing? You are not providing any clarity to all this!â
âDonât deny it.â Her voice is much calmer than yours yet carries more authority. âYouâve thought about it often. So much that your way of thinking has resorted to it.â
âResorted to what? Youâre not making anyââ
âResorted to groveling at your hardships, not making the adequate effort. Wishing that somehow, sometime, somewhereâŚâ She takes a breath. âA sudden savior will appear. With keys to all your exact problems.â
Doyeonâs right on the mark, your chest taking a jab. âItâsâŚâ You sigh. âYouâre right.â
âAnd now you have that divine intervention youâve so begged for. Whoever sent me is either immensely beneficentâŚor fed up.â
You scoff. âPerhaps both.â
âPerhaps.â Her expression softens. âSo think, Artur Noronha. Is this truly a curse for you?â
You exchange only looks before she resumes, âDonât answer that. Answer the first question instead. Why did you leave her?â
âI wasâŚanxious. Afraid,â you answer in the next cycle as the previous ended with a long silence after her question.Â
âAfraid of what?â
âOf not being able to provide for her.â Your hands quiver hard. âThe war was looming over our heads, andâŚIâd already made multiple unwise decisions by that point.â
Doyeon nods slowly. âWhat sort of âunwise decisionsâ?â
âThe sort that would debilitate us if they kept occurring. So IâŚtook initiative.â She visibly recoils, her face crunching. âInitiative?â
âYes. There was thisâŚwealthy family near our home. They had been coveting Doyeon for their son forâŚwell, about as long as weâd settled there.â
She gasps. âSo what, you sold her to them?âÂ
âWandering willows, no! She was not a slave!â you retort. âI merelyâŚsuggested it to her. Or pushed for it, rather.â
âWait, justââ Doyeon holds up her hand. âYou told your lover, to her face, that you would prefer she be with another man? Because of his wealth?â
âNoâwell, I didnât utter it directly.â
âOh dear.â
âIâŚalluded to it in conversation. And wrote it in the letter.â Your voice shrinks with every word.
âGods above,â Doyeon murmurs in apparent horror.Â
âI know! I am a fool, a coward!â You grab your hair with both hands. âIt has haunted me ever since. No need to parrot it for me.â
Doyeon sighs, hands running through her hair. âThere lies your problem.â
You scoff, looking out the window. âTell me something I didnât know.â
âYou are no fool nor coward, Noronha,â she states firmly. It catches you off-guard, head snapping to face her. âI beg your pardon?â
You hear wheels squealing a moment later, accompanied by a loud hiss as the train grounds to a rapid halt. You look around in confusion, but not as long as the other passengers. âDid you cause this?â
âNot myself, no.â Doyeon brushes her chest. The conductor appears and is immediately bombarded with questions.
âPlease calm down, ladies and gentlemen. We have a technical issue with the brakes. Our engineer is working to resolve it as we speak. Please, sit down.â That was enough to assure most passengers, a few still moaning but not towards the conductor. âThese damn new pneumatics. Whatever happened to brakemen?â you hear him grumble as he walks past.
Doyeon paid no attention to any of this discourse, staying on you. âAnyhow, you heard me right. You are no fool nor coward.â
âButâŚyou said my problem lies therein!â
âNot that you are either of those things.â
You stammer and sigh, rubbing your face with both hands. âI do not follow.â
âLook at me.â You do, shoulders slumped. Doyeon shifts closer still. You donât move away. âNo coward is able to fend for himself as well as you did for the past three years. No fool is able to avoid the draft by expertly making himself an indispensable worker, like you did.â
You shake your head, not replying. She continues. âDo you understand? Those actions were courageous, ingenious. Yet do you consider yourself to be a genius? A warrior?â
âNo.â Your lips twitch.Â
âExactly. You committed acts of great persistence and intelligence, but do not define yourself as either. So whyâŚâ She reaches for your hand, the latter flinching before settling under her cold palm. â âŚdo you define yourself by the foolish, cowardly acts you had committed?â
You look at her hands, they feel the exact same as your Doyeonâs did. âI thinkâŚI understand what you mean.â
Doyeon grins, smile reaching her eyes now. âWe will trust you on that. â
You chuckle, heart feeling warm for the first time in this journey. âSoâŚwhatâoh!â The train jolts as it starts moving again, its whistle soaring through the landscape. âMarvelous. So whatâŚwhatâs next for me?â
Doyeon stretches her free arm, yawning. âThatâs on you to decide. What is next for Artur Noronha?â She tilts her head side-to-side, clicking her tongue. âAlright, fine. Do you still love this woman?â
Your eyes feel warm as well, tears welling. Take a deep breath. âYes.â
âEnough to resist resorting to labels, to make the effort towards bringing her back into your life?â
âYes. Yes, and yes.â Another deep breath. âIt will be difficult though, won't it? Havenât the foggiest where she is, or what she is doing today. Wandering willows.â
âIt will. Because it matters.â
âHm?â You raise a brow.
âIt will be difficult because it matters.â
âInteresting.â You groan and bury your face in your palms, anxiety rising from the challenges ahead. âUgh, will she welcome me again after I left her like that? What if sheâs been harboring vengeance? Or worse, will she even acknowledge me? Theseââ
âHey.â Doyeon snaps her fingers. âDo you read minds or something?â
You lower your hands and scoff. âThatâs the second time someoneâs asked me today. No, no I donât.â
âPerhaps you are familiar with the concept of âtelepathyâ?â
âTelepathy? No, never heard of such a thing. Why are you asking all this?â
âSo you do understand there are no means to know what Kim Doyeon thinks of you presently, let alone have reign over it?â
âIââ Something inside clicks. âNo, there are none.â
âThen there we are.â She claps her hands. âYou restrain, resign, undermine your own abilities over the possibility that she holds animosity. Disregarding the possibility that things will go well.â
âButâŚI have wronged her badly in the pastââ
âIs that the present? The future? Is it?!â she snarls.
âTheââ You sigh and whine. âNo.â
âThen stop fussing about it!â She taps your shoulder. âThis vengeful imagery you conjure of hers is nothing more than a projection of your own insecurities!â
âHuh.â You were about to say something, but started giggling instead, becoming more tickled by the second.Â
âWhatâs so funny?â she asks, eyes wide.
âYou soundedââ Burst out laughing now. âYou speak more eloquently than she did, but when you said stop fussing you sounded exactly like her!â
Doyeon smirks and scoffs, punching your arm lightly. âLook at you. All smitten when she enters your mind, even now. Still not worth embarking on the challenging journey?â
âOh, she absolutely is.â You hum, arm raised to brush aside a tuft of hair on this Doyeonâs face. It does nothing to her, expression unchanging. On your end, welled up tears begin to fall.Â
âNow I remember, we were amorous far more than we were hostile. Conflicts were resolved amicably.â You shake your head, half-sobbing half-laughing. âConjuring these awful ideas truly wasâŚfoolish.â
Doyeon caresses your cheek with her hand, the only thing different from your Doyeon being the lack of warmth on her palm. âI am satisfied you understand. My task here is done.â
You sniffle and nod, letting her go. She lets you go also. âThank you. From the bottom of my heart. Please deliver my gratitude toâŚwhoever sent you here.â
âShow us with your actions,â she giggles, sitting more relaxed. âMany men donât receive suchâŚotherwordly opportunities. Use it well.â
Exhale and wipe your tears, nodding firmly. âI will. For me, and for her.â
Doyeon exhales as well, glancing at you with a small smile. âFarewell, Artur Noronha. Safe travels.â
âFarewell.â
The train reaches the Albrecht Tunnel. The wind isnât as intense as it was all those cycles ago, its strength more inline with what youâve experienced with tunnels. Some particles get caught in your eye, shut them and rub it away. When theyâre open, sheâs gone, vanished with no traces whatsoever.
Emerging out the other side, you leap to your feet, searching for the conductor. Find him one two cars ahead, observing the coupler to the locomotive. âConductor?â
âAh, what brings you out here, mister? Anything I can help you with?â he asks, surprised but warm.
âAm I allowed to disembark before the station on my ticket?â
He furrows his brows and hums. âWell, there is nothing prohibiting it, to my knowledge. But why would you do such a thing, mister? Itâs a loss to you and your coin. A particularly great loss with how far your station is.â
You smile and nod, perusing the rolling landscape. âI have a different train to catch, as it turns out.â
âIs that so? Where to? I could be of assistance in that regard.â
You laugh freely. âNo idea.â
Steam hisses from the pistons, whistle blares as the train pulls out of Darmstadt am Gelbbach. âI wish you an expedient journey, mister! Godspeed!â the conductor yells over the noise, waving his hat.Â
You return waves and a bright smile, watching the cars go by. The locomotiveâs chugs and puffs grow distant, rolling towards the horizon. Look down at your feet, then up in the other direction. âI will return to you, my dear. Whatever it takes. However it ends.â The first steps of many are made, echoing in the quiet station.
Summary: She was kind to you because Tsuki made sure she would be. Everything you mistook for choice was a door she opened.
Tags: Tsuki (Billlie) & Kwon Eunbi (iz*one) x Male Reader (Named OC) | Wordcount: 12,414~ | Supernatural, Smut, Corporate Drama
A/N: There's a moment in this chapter where I get exactly what I asked for. I don't think you're going to like me much by the time you see what happens in the middle of it.
Hey, you. I'm back. You probably remember me. Bunn is back at it; hope you didn't wait too much. This might be the last time he posts on schedule. Same arrangement: you're in my head, Tsuki's in the comments, I am sorry about both. Leave a comment whenever I fuck up or say something you agree with. Tell me at the end if you would have done it differently. You can directly address us in the replies if you're into that.
-ćĽăŽĺş ćĺŽ
Recommend Reading This On Fanprose.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Fuck youâre so tight. You whisper to your monthly budget after spending three thousand dollars. You then realize it is in your best financial interest if you just died yesterday.
Thatâs what the plate costs. Youâd balked at the number when you researched it, but then youâd calculated the potential return on investment and transferred the money anyway (youâre starting to feel like you donât have a choice in Tsukiâs games).Â
Itâs just a month of eating nothing but instant ramen, all good.
Now youâre standing in the Park Hyatt ballroom, nursing champagne youâre forced to carry around, scanning the crowd for a woman youâve never actually seen.
Kwon Eunbi. Runs the familyâs venture fund. Daughter of Kwon Minjun, the shipping magnate who built an empire from a single cargo container and what your research politely categorized âaggressive business practices.â
Youâve perused her resume. You know her role in this game of thrones. Her mask is still on and youâve yet to see her true face.
She keeps a low profile which means no socialsâno press conferences; a ghost to people who are not in the same tax bracket. The only photo you found was from a Harvard alumni newsletter, grainy and five years old, mostly obscured by a podium. Smart, probably. When your familyâs net worth has eleven digits, anonymity is a luxury worth protecting.
Your phone buzzes. Youâre not surprised anymore.
But this time it isnât Tsuki.
Kim Jiwoo ¡ Seoul Financial Review ¡ Voicemail (3)
Three voicemails. Three. From a journalist whose byline alone makes lawyers nervous. This is fine. You silence the phone in your pocket and pull it out again, this time braced for what comes next.
čŹčĽ: stop looking so constipated
čŹčĽ: show them that you belong here
čŹčĽ: act like it Akihiro-kun~
You glance around the room. Sheâs nowhere to be found. Of course, sheâs never anywhere until she wants to be. You give up trying to figure it out.
You slide your phone in your pocket and try to actually look like you belong.
Nope. It doesnât work. Who am I kidding?
Three people you recognize from past industry events have already done the classic Tokyo Sidestep: That maneuver when someone spots you; calculates the reputational cost of association; and then suddenly discovers the most fascinating painting on the opposite wall.
The gratitude of the finance world. So fickle. Truly heartwarming.
Youâre contemplating whether the open bar is worth the walk across the room when someone appears at your elbow.
âYou look like a man whoâs doing math he doesnât want to do.â
The words hit you like a slap. You turn, half-expecting dark eyes and that dangerous smile.
But the woman standing there is nothing like Tsuki.
âSorryâ, you manage. âWhat?â
Sheâs short. Barely reaches your shoulder, even in heels. But she carries herself like sheâs six feet tall, shoulders back, chin lifted, taking up space in a way that makes you notice her despite her size. Her face is open and expressive, eyes bright with amusement, mouth curved into a smile thatâs warm instead of cunning.
âYouâre doing calculations.â She points and gestures at your face with her champagne glass. âI can see the spreadsheets running behind your eyes. Let me guess. Cost-benefit analysis of whether the networking potential justifies the plate price?â
âMore or less.â
âThe answer is no, by the way. The people worth talking to at these things donât care about the gala. They come for the after-parties.â She extends her hand. Her grip is firm, warm, no hesitation. âKwon Eunbi.â
KwonâŚ
Kwon!
Your brain, still hungover from a week of Tsukiâs games, takes a full three seconds to catch up. This is her. The daughter. The one Tsuki pointed you toward.
âYouâreâŚâ
âThe chairmanâs daughter. Yes.â Sheâs still smiling, and finally lets go of your hand. âAnd youâre Hinode Akihiro. The Ishikawa refugee father wonât stop talking about.â
âYour fatherâŚâ
âMentioned you, raved about you even. Multiple times over dinner, actually. Something about discretion, and restructuring and a man who actually reads the fine print.â She tilts her head, studying you so openly that itâs almost unsettling after Tsukiâs constant obscurity. âHe said you seemed like someone who could be trusted. And hmm. I wanted to see that for myself.â
âAnd? What do you think so far?â
âHmmm. Iâm not sold yet.â Sheâs still smiling; the corner of lips reaches her eyes. âBuy me a drink or two and improve your odds.â
Youâre already walking toward the bar before you realize youâre doing it. I hope she likes water because thatâs all you can afford right now.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Sheâs an animated yapper; talks with her whole face and her hands.Â
Thatâs the first thing you notice. Everything she says comes with gestures: pointing, waving, occasionally touching your arm with her soft, warm hands when sheâs making a point.Â
Normally, it would be annoying. It isnât; far from it.
âHarvard was a blast but academically, it was fine,â sheâs saying, swirling her wine. âThe MBA was useful. But true education was watching my father breeze through a hostile takeover when I was just fifteen: Boardroom politics, shareholder manipulation, the art of knowing which knife goes in which backâand when to twist it.â She grins. âYou donât learn that in business school.â
âUh⌠Your father seemsâŚâ
âRuthless? Yeah, of course he is. But, he is also fair, which I understand might be hard to believe.â She sets her glass down. âHeâs a man who respects competence. Maybe thatâs why heâs drawn towards you.â
âHe doesnât know me that well yet.â
âHe knows your work. The Taniguchi restructuring, that was all you, wasnât it? Everyone assumed it was Matsuda leading, but the footnotes told a different story.â
You blink. Closed your mouth you didnât know opened. The Taniguchi deal was four years ago. Buried in the middle of your tenure, overshadowed by bigger clients, and flashier wins. Youâd honestly forgotten anyone outside the firm even knew about it.
âWait, how did youâŚâ
âMy father taught me that truth lives in what people donât say out loud.â She leans in, conspiratorial, and you notice the curve of her neckline, the fullness suggested beneath her understated black dress. You look away before she catches you. âFont-size twelve is for show. Itâs theatre. The real story is buried in font-size eight, where details are synonymous to the truth.â
âAnd what did you find buried about me?â
âThat youâre thorough⌠youâre careful. That you caught three errors in the Taniguchi financials that could have tanked the whole deal, and you fixed them behind the scenes without stealing the show.â She sits back. âItâs a rare quality you showed there. Most people would have made a scene. You just.. Played your part. And you played your part well.â
Your shoulders drop. You hadnât realized youâd been holding them so tight.Â
âIt wasnât my intention to look noble,â you say. âI just wanted to get the job done, move on, and close the deal.â
âNo need to minimize your accomplishments Hinode-san.â She flags down a waiter, orders something in rapid Korean that you donât catch. âTo pose as a noble man is easy. Literally anyone can look noble with an audience. Continuing to do so when no oneâs watching? Thatâs the quality of a man I look for.â
The waiter returns with two small plates. Some kind of appetizer. Looks expensive, it has caviar on it so it must be. She pushes one towards you.
âEat. You look like youâve been running on coffee, instant ramen, and spite for a week.â
âIâm fine.â
âYouâre clearly lying.â She picks up her fork, takes a bite, side-eyes you until you do the same. âThere. Was that so hard Hinode-san?â
It wasnât. The food is goodâsooo fucking good. Youâre famished, actually. Itâs been the most normal food youâve eaten in days. Youâd skipped multiple meals just to save up for the plate fee.
âMy father wants to meet you properly,â she says. âNot in this gala. Somewhere we can actually talk. Iâm flying to Seoul on Wednesday. You should come with.â
âI⌠what?â
âYou sound like Iâm taking you hostage.â She laughs, nothing like Tsukiâs. Bright and loud and unbothered by who might hear. âItâs a business opportunity, Hinode-san. The family has some restructuring needs. Complicated, sensitive, the kind of thing that requires someone who reads between the lines and doesnât make scenes.â
âYou donât know me all that well yet.â
âI know enough.â She meets your eyes; holds them. âThe question is whether youâre willing to go tit-for-tat. Full disclosure, Hinode-san: I donât do slow. So⌠are you in or should we go back to pretending weâre enjoying our time in this gala as just acquaintances.â
What is this? Youâre taken aback by the directness. Itâs the opposite of Tsuki: Sheâs not an abyss with the sole intention of manipulating you. Just a woman who knows what she wants and isnât afraid to ask for it wholeheartedly.
âWhy me?â you ask. âYour father could hire anyone, firms or people without scandals attached to their names.â
âBecause the firms are slow and people who play safe are boring.â She leans forward, and you catch a hint of her perfume. Airy floral with a hint of citrus and musky notes; subtle, and expensive. Not loud, nothing you can name, like the whisper she imparts: âAnd Iâve talked with your old firm and one thing is consistent when they mention you: heâs good, but heâll never make partner because he refuses to play the game.â
âThatâs not a compliment at all.â
âOf course it is.â Her hand finds your arm again. âThe game is rigged anyways. I donât need someone who plays it. I need someone who wins despite it.âÂ
The words land somewhere deep and you just had to take a mental note on it.
âBefore I give my answer. Thereâs something Iâve been meaning to ask.â
âYou can ask me anything. Whether I answer is a different question.â
âWhy venture capital? With your familyâs resources, you could easily do anything. Run a division. Start your own company. Why spend your time evaluating other peopleâs dreams when you can just build on the foundations you already own?â
Her eyebrows lift.Â
âBecause building something from scratch is terrifying,â she says. âAnd I like being terrified.â
âThat doesnât make sense.â
âSure it does. My father built his empire from nothing: Started with one shipping container, made a lot of friends and enemies, and faced it all head on. By the time I was born, we had everything. Money, power, the whole package. Iâve never had to struggle for anything in my life.â
âMost people would call that lucky, privileged, and being blessed.â
âMost people get it wrong.â She sets her wine down, her expressions stiffen. âI refuse to be a nepo baby coasting life carefree on comfortable ground. Thatâs how people get soft, weak, and they start believing they deserve things they never earned.â She picks up her glass, takes a sip, and leans back; watching you. âIâve seen my cousins live like that. Drowning in money, no clue how to survive without it. Iâd rather burn than end up like those pathetic losers.â
âSo instead you chose the hardest path to get there?â
âI chose a path that scares me. Venture capital isnât hard, itâs just math and trusting your gut instinct. But every investment is a bet. Every bet can fail. And every failure is mine. Not my fatherâs. Not my familyâs. Mine.â She takes another sip of her wine. âI needed something that was mine.â
âIshikawa wasnât mine,â you say. âIt only felt like it was. I gave it twelve years. I worked my ass off, but when everything fell apart⌠they cut me out like I was nothing. Like Iâd never been there at all. Like everything Iâve done isnât the reason why weâre up there in the first place.â
âThatâs what happens when you build someone elseâs house.â Her eyes lock in on yours. âYouâre never going to do that again, are you?â
âNo.â
âGood boy.â She finishes her wine. Sets down the glass with a decisive click. âThen weâre quite the compatible pair, arenât we?â
Your heart did a thing. Your body who youâve trusted all these years betrays you as well. Those combinations of words are not what youâd expect in this setting.Â
You should really be saying no; ask for time to think. You should do the careful, logical thing that twelve years of professional discipline has trained you to do.
âWednesday,â you say. âWhat time?â
Her smile could power a small nation.
âIâll text you the details.â She stands, and when she stretches slightly you finally see her full figure. Compact but curved. Full bust straining subtly against understated fabric. Hips that move with confident purpose. Sheâs been hiding it well, but now that youâve noticed, you canât unnotice. âAnd Hinode-san? Wear something that fits. Youâve got the shoulders for a good suit. Stop hiding them in whatever that is.â
âThis suit is fine.â
âThat suit makes you look like a grandpa.â Sheâs already walking away. âIâll send you the name of our tailor. Consider it a business expense.â
Why does everyone always have something to say about your suits?
Sheâs gone before you can respond.
You stand there, holding an empty champagne glass, trying to understand what just happened. A woman youâve never met just offered you a lifeline, insulted your wardrobe, and walked away like she owned the room. (She probably does own this roomâor her family does at least; you figured itâs the same thing.)
Your phone buzzes.
čŹčĽ: good boy~
čŹčĽ: sheâs exactly what you need
čŹčĽ: stable, normal, everything Iâm not, am I right?
čŹčĽ: sheâll take good care of you
čŹčĽ: in ways I wonât~
čŹčĽ: oh and are you not curious about me yet, Akihiro-kun?
You stare at the screen. Then at the bustling crowd, where Eunbi has disappeared. Then back at the screen.
In ways I wonât.
What the fuck does that mean?
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Tsuki is waiting when you get home.
Sheâs sitting on your couch like she belongs there, legs crossed, one of your books open in her lap. The lamp casts warm light across her face, and for a moment you just stand in the doorway, keys in hand, too tired to even be surprised.
âThe key under the fire escape,â you say. âReally?â
âYou should find a better hiding spot.â She doesnât look up from the book. âThatâs the first place anyone checks.â
âAnyone whoâs breaking in, maybe.â
âAnyone whoâs paying attention.â Now she looks up. Those eyes. You notice it now in a way you didnât before. At the bar, in the hotel, in the corridor, and here in your apartment. The same flat darkness, catching light wrong. Human eyes dilate with arousal, fear, interest. Hers donât. âI pay attention.â
You close the door behind you. Drop your keys on the counter.
âThat Kwon daughter,â you say. âThat was all you, huh? You set that up.â
âDid I?â
âDonât.â You cross the room, stop in front of her. âDonât play games. Not tonight. Iâm tired.â
She sets the book aside. Uncrosses her legs. Stands in one fluid motion, close enough that you can smell her. That dark sweet scent thatâs haunted you for a week.
âYouâre tense, Aki-kunâ she says. Her hands find your chest. Presses flat over your heart. âI can feel it. All that anxiety, all that fear about what comes next, about Seoul, about whether youâre good enough.â
âIâm fine.â
âYouâre lying.â She steps closer. Her body presses against yours. âBut I can help with that.â
âHow?â
âHow about I take care of you tonight.â Her fingers work at your tie, loosening it. âLet me remind you what youâre capable of.â
âThatâs not an answer.â
âWell. Itâs the only answer Iâm giving.â She pulls the tie free. Drops it on the floor. âDo you want me to stop?â
You should say yes. You should demand explanations, answers, something that makes sense. You shouldââ
âNo.â
âGood boy.â
She kisses you. Hard. Hungry. Her tongue slides against yours and her hands are everywhere, pulling at your shirt, your belt, anything between her skin and yours.
âIâve been thinking about this all week,â she breathes against your mouth. âThinking about how you tasted. How you sounded when I had you in my mouth.â
âTsukiââ
âShhh.â She pushes your shirt off your shoulders. Her nails rake down your chest, just hard enough to sting. âStop talking and justâŚâ She drops to her knees. Your belt is already undone. She pulls down your zipper, frees your already throbbing cock from your boxers, and looks up at you with those flat dark eyes.
âLook at you,â she murmurs. âAlready aching hard for me. Already. This. Desperate.â She wraps her hand around your base, strokes slowly. âDid you touch yourself this week thinking about me Aki-kun?â
âYes.â The words come out strangled.
âHow many times?â
âI donâtââ
âHow many times, Akihiro?â She squeezes. Just enough pressure to make you gasp. âThree. Maybe four.â
âDid you come?â
âNo.â You hadnât let yourself. It felt wrong. It felt like cheating. âI couldnât.â
âBecause you knew, all this belonged to me.â She strokes again. Twists her wrist at the top.
âYour cock. Your cum. Your pleasure. All. Of. It. Mine.â
She leans forward and licks a stripe from base to tip. Slow. Savoring. You shudder.
âTsukiââ
âI love the way you say my name.â She swirls her tongue around your cockhead. You start almost chanting her name like a prayerâbarely coherent; like youâre begging but words wonât form.
She takes you in.
Hot. Wet. Her mouth is impossibly soft, you swear itâs borderline illegal how her tongue moves, and she takes you deep, deeper than should be comfortable, until you feel the back of her throat and she swallows around you.
âFuckââ Your hands find her hair. Grip without meaning to. She moans around your cock. The vibration makes your knees buckle.
She pulls back just enough to speak, lips brushing your top. âThatâs it. Feel free to fuck my mouth. Take what you need.â
âI donât want to hurtââ
âDonât worry, you wonât.â She looks up at you through dark lashes. âI can take it. I can take anything you give me.â She opens her mouth. Sticks out her tongue. Looks at you directly with her dark eyes. Waits.
You thrust.
Shallow at first. Testing. But she moans encouragingly, her hands gripping your hips, pulling you deeper. So you thrust again. Harder. And again. Until youâre fucking her face with a rhythm thatâs animal and desperate and nothing like the man you thought you were.
Spit starts to drop down her chin. Tears leak from the corners of her eyes. And still she takes it, takes all of it, making sounds that are wet and obscene and somehow grateful.
âGod, youâreââ You canât finish the sentence. Can barely form coherent thoughts. If this is how you die, then so be it. Youâre nearing nirvana. âIâm going toââ
She pulls off.
Fucking hell.
âNo.â She wipes her chin with the back of her hand. Stands. âNot yet Aki-kun.â
âPlease, Tsuki.â The words come out broken. Youâre so hard it hurts, cock slick with her spit, throbbing. âTsuki, please, let meââ
âI know what you need.â She turns. Walks towards your bedroom. Looks back over her shoulder. âCome with me Akihiro.â You follow her with no hesitation.
Sheâs already undressing when you reach the doorway. Her dress pools at her feet. No bra. Just black lace panties that barely cover anything. Her breasts are full and perfect, nipples already hard, and she watches your face as you take her in.
âSee something you like?â
âEverything.â
âGood answer.â She lies back on your bed. Spreads her legs. Hooks her thumb into her panties and slowly, torturously, slides them down her milky thighs. âYour turn.â
You strip. Practically tear off your remaining clothes. Stand at the edge of the bed, naked and aching, and she looks at you like youâre exactly where she wants you. âOn your knees boy,â she says. âI want that mouth of yours on me.â
You kneel. Sheâs already wet, glistening in the low light, and when you lean in and breathe against her, she shivers.Â
âStop teasing Aki-kun,â she warns.
Your tongue navigates through her already soaked folds and when it finds her clit she gasps, her hips jerking up off the mattress.
âYes,â she breathes. âRight there. Just like that.â
You eat her like youâre starving; like sheâs the first meal youâve had in weeks. You learn the rhythm she responds to, the pressure, the way she cries out when you suck her clit and push two fingers inside her.
âFuck. Aki-kun~â Her hands find your hair. Pull hard enough to hurt. âThat mouth of yours is so good, so fucking good, donât stop, donât you dare fucking stopââ You donât plan on stopping any time soon. You work her with your tongue and your fingers until sheâs shaking, until her thighs are clamped around your head and her moans have become one long continuous sound.
âIâm going to come,â she gasps. âIâm going toâoh godââ
She breaks.
Her whole body seizes, cunt clenching around your fingers, her cry sharp enough to echo off the walls. You work her through it, gentler now, drawing out every aftershock until sheâs pushing you at your shoulders.
âEnough.â Sheâs panting. Flushed. âEnough. Come here.â
You crawl up her body. She kisses you, tasting herself on your lips, and wraps her legs around your waist.
âI want you inside me,â she whispers. âIâve wanted it since that first night. Wanted to feel you stretch me, fill me to the brim, fuck me until I canât think.â
âThen let meââ
âJust. Kidding~â
She pushes you off. Rolls you onto your back. Straddles you, her wet heat hovering just above your cock, so close you can feel her.
âNot tonight Aki-kun.â She rocks her hips. Your cock slides through her folds, slick and hot, the head catching against her entrance on every pass. âTonight you learn.â
âLearn what?âÂ
âThat I decide when you get to come.â She reaches down. Takes your cock in her hand. Positions you right at her entrance, just barely pressing in. âThat I decide how much you get. That every time you close your eyes in Seoul and think about what you want, youâll think about thisââ She presses down. Just the tip slides in. You nearly black out. ââabout how close you were. About how good it would have felt.â
She lifts off. Completely. Your cock slaps against your stomach, wet, and desperate, and denied.
âNo.â Sheâs already climbing off the bed. âThatâs enough for tonight.â
âTsukiââ
âHush.â She picks up her dress. Pulls it on like nothing happened. Like youâre not lying there ruined. âGo to Seoul. Meet her father. Let her take care of you.â
âAnd then?â
âThen come back to me~â She pauses at the doorway. Looks back over her shoulder with those flat, dark eyes. âIâll be here.â
âWhat are you?â
She smiles. Lips closed. Her face is unreadable.
âIâm what you canât stop wanting. No matter what happens, some part of you will wish it was me.â
Then sheâs gone.
You lie there on your bed, cock aching, body thrumming with denied release, more confused than youâve ever been in your life. Her underwear from the networking event is still in your dresser drawer. You never threw it away.
You donât touch yourself tonight either.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
čŹčĽ: looks like your flight is at noon
čŹčĽ: nice suit, her tailor?
čŹčĽ: oooh, thatâs expensive~
čŹčĽ: did you get a sugar mommy now?
čŹčĽ: oh, and Aki-kunâŚ
čŹčĽ: try not to fall too hard, ok? (wink tongue emoji)
You stare at her texts until your screen goes dark. Then you close your eyes and try to sleep. You dream of nothing.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Wednesday, 6:03 AM
Kwon Eunbi: Good morning! Hereâs the flight details:
KE706, Narita to Incheon, 12:15 PM
Kwon Eunbi: First class. My treat. Donât argue.
Kwon Eunbi: 6:04 AM
You: Thatâs too generous. I can pay for my own ticket.
Kwon Eunbi: đ
Kwon Eunbi: No! Iâm gonna reimburse this when we get there. Business expense!
You: What happened to refusing the life of a nepo baby?
Kwon Eunbi: đđđ
Kwon Eunbi: Consider it hazard pay then. Youâll be sitting next to me for a few hours.Â
You: Hazard pay?
Kwon Eunbi: Iâm a terrible plane companion. I donât stop yapping đ
Kwon Eunbi: Also Iâve been known to aggressively critique strangersâ work over their shoulders
You: I donât think Iâll be able to do any work in the air anyways with you yapping beside me
Kwon Eunbi: Then youâre safe
Kwon Eunbi: Text me your address. Car will pick you up at 10.
Kwon Eunbi: See you soon, Hinode-san
You set your phone down. Stare at the ceiling.
Try not to fall too hard.
Too late for that.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
By noon, youâre in a window seat watching Tokyo shrink beneath the clouds, and Eunbi beside you with a laptop open, running numbers that would make most CFOs weep.
âStop watching me work,â she says without looking up. âItâs creepy.â
âIâm not watching you work.â
âWell if youâre not watching me work, then youâre watching something.â She glances over; catches you staring at her hands. You canât help but do so: the way her fingers almost glide across the keyboard, quick and certain; like each character she inputs has already been considered. âAh. The hands thing. My ex used to do that too.â
âThe hands thing?â
âApparently I have âpianist hands.ââ She wiggles her fingers. âI canât play piano, for the record. Complete waste of good genetics. I wonder what itâs good for though.â
âI wasnâtâŚâ
âYou were. Itâs fine. I get that a lot.â She closes the laptop. Gives you her full attention. âTalk to me. Youâre nervous.â
âOf course Iâm nervous. Iâm meeting your father. This will be my first job ever since leaving Ishikawa.â
âYouâre meeting my dad. A potential client that already thinks of you highly.â She shifts in her seat, angling toward you. âYouâre going to be fine. Youâve already passed the first test. Stop catastrophizing.â
âIâm not catastrophizing.â
âYour legs say otherwise.â
You look down. It has. Goddamnit.
âI donât do well with⌠uncertainty.â
âThen youâre going to hate this, because nothing about working with my family is certain, like at all.â She says it matter-of-factly; no apology. âWeâre extremely complicated. We fight. We scheme. Oh, we scheme a lot, youâre not gonna hear the end of it. Half of my cousins want my fatherâs job and the other half want him dead. Itâs like Game of Thrones but with better skincare.â
âYeah, thatâs totally reassuring.â
âIt should be. If I wanted safe, I would have hired literally anyone else, you know.â She reaches over; squeezes your hand once, then lets go. âI want someone who can handle messy. Who doesnât flinch when things get ugly.â
âAnd you think thatâs me?â
âI think you survived Ishikawa and you walked out of that building with your integrity intact, which is more than most people manage. And I thinkâŚâ She pauses; studies your face with an intensity that makes you want to look away. âYou look like someone whoâs tired of playing defense. Youâre ready to fight again. You just need someone to point you at the right enemy.â
Fight.
That word again. Tsuki said the same thing. That first night. After she left you aching in the hotel room.
âIs there anything wrong? Youâre making a weird face,â Eunbi says.
âWhat face?â
âIt looked like you zoned out there, like youâre somewhere else.â She doesnât seem offended, just curious. âWhere do you go? When you check out like that?â
âNowhere important.â
âLiar.â But she doesnât push. Just flags down the flight attendant and orders two whiskeys. âDrink with me. Itâll make the rest of the flight less boring.â
The whiskey arrives. You both drink. The silence isnât awkward exactly, but itâs become weighted. Youâre both starting to feel a bit more loose too. The alcohol doing its job.
âCan I ask you something more personal?â you say.
âYou can, but I reserve the right to deflect with humor.â
âWhat do you do for fun?â Her face changes; like sheâs expecting a punchline from you. âWhen youâre not reading financial records and terrorizing your cousins.â
She laughs without restraint. Surprised, maybe, that youâd ask.
âI watch the worst reality TV shows imaginable,â she admits. âThe trashier the better. Singles Inferno, The Bachelor, dating shows, anything where people make increasingly dramatic poor life choices.â
âReally? But why reality tv, specifically?â
âDonât sound so shocked. I spend all day making rational decisions. Sometimes you need to watch someone throw wine at another person because theyâre being a bitch.â She takes a sip of her whiskey. âWhat about you? What does the Hinode Akihiro do when heâs not staring at spreadsheets?â
âI used to rock climb before everything fell apart.â
âUsed to?â
âHard to motivate yourself when youâre not sure what youâre climbing toward.â You swirl your drink. âNow I mostly drink and read. I must sound so fucking miserable, huh?â
âThatâs the saddest thing Iâve ever heard.â
âThank you. Iâm cultivating a specific aesthetic.â
âBrooding middle-aged accountant?â
âHey, Iâm not that old.â
âBrooding almost-middle-aged accountant.â She grins. âItâs a good look. Very Mr. Darcy energy.â
âI donât know who that is.â
âOh, what the heck do you read? You are absolutely getting a reading list.â She pulls out her phone, starts typing. âPride and Prejudice. Mandatory. No arguments.â
âI donât⌠I mostly read self-help books.â
âEew. Self-help books? No. You donât need that at all. Youâre changing that, now. No further arguments.â She looks up. Mock-stern. âThis is happening, ok? Consider it part of your professional development.â
âHow is reading a two-hundred-year-old romance novel professional development?â
âItâs about a smart woman falling for a man whoâs terrible at expressing emotions but secretly has a good heart. Very applicable to our working relationship.â
âWhich one am I in this scenario?â
âNot sure yet.â But sheâs giving you the biggest smile. âProbably Darcy. Youâve got the brooding down.â
You laugh uncontrollably. You havenât laughed like this in a while. It surprises both of you.
âOh and by the way, my father will ask about your failures,â Eunbi says as the seatbelt sign dings on. âNot your successesâhe already knows those. He wants to know how you handle losing.â
âWhat should I tell him?â
âThe truth. He can smell bullshit from three prefectures away. So, donât even try.â
âWhat if the truth makes me look bad?â
âThen at least heâll know youâre honest.â She smiles and itâs so different; so warm and unguarded. âThatâs infinitely worth more than looking good.â
You swear your heart skipped a beat, but it could as well be the whiskey playing tricks on you. It has enchanted you a couple of times, you might as well not know the difference between fantasy and reality with it in your system.
The plane touches down. And as you taxi toward the gate, watching Seoul sprawl beneath the overcast afternoon sky, you realize something.
You havenât thought about Tsuki at all in almost three hours.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
The meeting with Kwon Minjun goes surprisingly better than you deserve.
Heâs smaller than you expected. You swear he was a titan back at the networking event; maybe clout in a public setting grows you a few inches.
His place reflects him very well. High ceiling, wood-paneled walls, dim warm lighting, and a single window with a serene view of the river. Modern interiors mixed with traditional accents. One wall has a glass case with three masks mounted. Two are masks you recognize from the textbooks. The third is a Hannya. Femaleâs face, twisted between rage and grief, small horns curving from the forehead.Â
Itâs an artform that eludes you but seeing it somehow evokes some kind of fight or flight. Youâve seen it before. The hotel hallway, the night Tsuki took you upstairs. You were not sure what it was called then.
Minjun catches you looking. âMy wifeâs. She was into traditional Japanese folklore.â
âWas?â
âShe passed, twelve years ago.â A pause. âSome of her collection ended up in my office. I look at them more than I should.â
Youâre not sure why but that information feels useful, you file it away for now.
He spends the first thirty minutes asking about everything except your business: Your family. Your education. The book youâre currently reading (youâre currently realizing how much of a bookworm this family is, not that itâs a bad thing but itâs making you rethink your current collection.)
Whether you prefer mountains or oceans:
âMountains,â you answer. âThe ocean is vast and deep, it reminds me of how small I am.â
âAnd mountains donât?â
âThey do but mountains at least make me feel like thereâs something worth climbing.â
He laughs at that; a short, surprised sound. He looks at Eunbi, whoâs been watching from the corner of the room with barely concealed amusement.
âTell me about the day you decided to âleave.â Ishikawaâ
You set down your tea. âIt wasnât my decision, I was basically forced into it. I resigned because the alternative was being laid off.â
âThatâs not what I asked.â His face switched into serious-mode; first time this happened throughout the conversation. âI asked when you decided. Thereâs a difference between resigning and choosing to resign. You made the call before HR did. I want to know when.â
You think. Honestly. âThere was an incident two years ago⌠An arrangement I helped structure. I had questions but decided not to ask them. When I recalled that I knew I wasnât fully innocent.â
A long pause. âThen we understand each other.â A pause. âYou were right,â he tells Eunbi. âThis man is interesting.â
âFather, Iâm always right,â Eunbi says. âYou should remember that.â
The business discussion happens over dinner: Three hours of restructuring proposals, tax implications, family trust complications that would make a lesser accountant wet their pants and cry themselves to sleep. You take notes on your phone. Ask questions that got Minjun to pause and reconsider. By the time the last course arrives, youâve outlined a preliminary strategy that addresses concerns he hasnât even voiced yet.
âIncredible! Youâre really good at this, huh, young man?â he says.
âI try, sir.â
âAlright, weâre done for today.â He stands, signaling to everyone in the room that the meeting is over. âMy daughter will handle the details. I look forward to working with you, Hinode-san.â
He leaves. And suddenly youâre alone with Eunbi in a private dining room that probably costs more per hour than your rent for the whole year.
âThat was terrifying,â you say.
âThat was him at his nicest.â Sheâs grinning. âHe usually makes people feel dumb and have them cry by the second course. You made it to dessert with no speck in your eye. Thatâs impressive.â
âYou really think so? I think I blacked out for a better part of it.â
âYou didnât. You were brilliant. Be proud of yourself, I am.â She stands, stretches. The movement pulls her dress tight, and you see her full figure now without obstruction. Compact but curved. The kind of body that expensive clothes are designed to downplay and now youâre suddenly very aware of. âCome on. Iâm starving.âÂ
âHuh? We just ate dinner.â
âWe ate business dinner. That doesnât count. Pretty much empty calories. I know a place nearby that cooks real food.â Sheâs already heading for the door. âMy treat. Donât argue.â
âYouâre going to bankrupt yourself treating me to things.â
âIâm worth eight hundred million dollars, Akihiro. I think Iâll survive buying you food.â
You follow her out into the Seoul night.
(Eight hundred million. You canât even conceptualize that number.)
(Also: she called you Akihiro. Not Hinode-san. You noticed. Progress. Youâre not sure why youâre tracking progress suddenly.)
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
The âplace nearbyâ turns out to be a pojangmacha. A street tent with plastic chairs and a woman who greets Eunbi by name.
âThey know you. You come here often?â
âWhen I need to feel normal and when I want actually good food.â She orders for both of you in rapid Korean. âTteokbokki. Kimbap. Soju. The essentials.â
âEunbi-ah,â the woman says, swatting at her arm with a kitchen towel. âWhere have you been? You donât visit auntie anymore.â
âAuntie, I was here last Friday.â
âAigoo~ Youâre getting thin-ah! Iâll give you extra, eat more! Eat more!â She squints at you. âMmm. Heâs new.â
âHeâs working.â
âWorking at what?â
âNumbers.â
The woman makes a face like numbers personally offended her. âSit! Get comfortable. Iâll bring you what you should eat. Not whatever you ordered.â She walks off.
Eunbi turns to you. âSheâll feed you something with intestines. Donât react.â
âNoted.â
âAlso, she might ask if weâre married. Just go along with it.â
You wait for the smile to break. It doesnât. âAre you serious?â
âIt speeds up the meal, and they give us more servings because of it.â
The food arrives fast. Itâs spicy and cheap and perfect. Everything youâve been missing this past few hours.
âSo,â she says, pouring soju into tiny glasses. âYou survived my father. You good? How are you feeling right now?â
âLike I just ran a marathon while someone asked me increasingly personal questions.â
âThatâs accurate.â She hands you a glass. âTo surviving.â
You drink. The soju burns.
âCan I ask you something?â you say.
âYouâre asking that a lot today. But sure.â
âWhy are you doing this? The dinner. The streetfood. TheâŚâ You gesture vaguely at everything. âYou could be anywhere. With anyone. Why are you eating intestines with a disgraced accountant?â
âYouâre not disgraced, donât be dramatic. Youâre just⌠undergoing a transition in your career. There is a clear difference.â
âWell, the world doesnât see it that way.â
âThe world is⌠well, frankly itâs stupid.â She takes another drink. âAnd Iâm doing this because I like you. Is that so hard to believe?â
âHonestly? Yes.â
âThatâs the saddest thing youâve said yet.â She pours more soju. âYou know what I think? I think youâve spent so long performing competence that youâve forgotten people might actually just enjoy your company.â
You nod. âThatâs a good theory.â
âItâs a fact you dum-dum. Youâre funny. Youâre smart. You ask good questions and you actually listen to the answers. Most men I meet spend the whole conversation calculating: my net worth, my cup size, or what I can do for their career. Itâs exhausting.â She meets your eyes. âYouâre also present; like, actually in the room with me instead of three moves ahead. Do you know how rare that is for a man nowadays?â
You donât know what to say to that. So you drink instead and gulp the burning alcohol.
âI should show you the apartment,â she says eventually. âItâs getting late, and tomorrowâs going to be a long day.â
âWhat do you mean apartment, huh?â
âWhere youâre staying. Family guest suite. Itâs nicer than a hotel and the kitchen is stocked.â Sheâs already standing, leaving won on the table and waves farewell to the auntie with her signature big smile. âPlus itâs attached to my suite, so if you have any questions about tomorrowâs meetings, Iâm right there.â
Sheâs⌠right⌠thereâŚ
You follow her into the Seoul night, feeling something you havenât felt in weeks.
Hope, maybe. Or something that resembles it.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
The Kwon family apartment is less an apartment and more a penthouse that happens to have multiple apartments inside it. Your âguest suiteâ has two bedrooms, a full kitchen, and a view of the Han River that looks like a postcard. People would kill to get this vantage point.
âThis is the small one,â Eunbi says, watching your face as you take it in. âMy fatherâs is upstairs.â
âSeriously? The small one.â
âI know. Itâs too much.â She doesnât sound bothered. âBathroomâs through there. Kitchenâs stocked, feel free to take anything. Iâm through that door if you need me.â
She points to a connecting door between the suites.
âGet some rest,â she says. âTomorrowâs going to be a long day.â
âEunbiâŚâ
âHmmm?â
âThank you. For today. For⌠all of it.â
She looks at you. The sharpness leaves her face for a moment. She looks warm.
âYou donât have to thank me. This is all just business.â
âIs it?â
The question hangs there. She doesnât look away.
âGet some rest now Akihiro,â she says again. Way softer this time.
She disappears through the connecting door. You hear it click shut behind her.
You shower. Change into the one nice pair of pajamas you packed. Lie down in a bed thatâs too comfortable, in a room thatâs too big, in a life that suddenly makes no sense.
Your phone buzzes.
čŹčĽ: sooo⌠how was daddy kwon?
čŹčĽ: did he make you cry?
čŹčĽ: mhmmph~! no response. it means youâre either sleeping or sulking
čŹčĽ: either way~
čŹčĽ: sweet dreams, aki-kun
čŹčĽ: donât think about me too much đ
You turn off your phone. Press your face into the pillow, cool and soft to the touch.
You dream of dark eyes, dangerous smiles, and the sound of your own name; distorted and mocking.
Akihiro-kun.
Aki-kun.
Akihiro.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Day Two in Seoul
Another day. Another opportunity to kill it; or yourself. You havenât decided yet but work today went well at least.
You spend the morning going through different files with Eunbi, untangling the Kwon familyâs trust structures, finding the pressure points and leverage opportunities. Sheâs extremely sharp, sharper than you expected, catching details you miss and building on your insights.
By afternoon, youâve developed a preliminary framework. By dinner, youâre finishing each otherâs sentences.
âThis cousin here, Wonbin, heâs the problem,â you say, pointing at a family tree scrawled on a hotel stationery.
âHeâs always been the problem. But we canât cut him out without destabilizing the whole eastern division.â
âWhat if we donât cut him out? What if we give him something he wants more than a chairmanship?â
âLike what?â
âAutonomy. His own subsidiary. Let him feel like a king of a smaller kingdom instead of a prince in a larger one. Let him think he holds the cards.â
She stares at you. Dumbfounded. Proud. A mix of things. Then grins.
âYouâre either brilliant or insane.â
âThose arenât mutually exclusive.â
âNo,â she says. âTheyâre not.â
She orders room service. You eat on the floor of her suite, papers spread around you like a nest.
âCan I ask you something?â she says.
âYouâre asking that a lot this week.â
âTouchĂŠ.â She sets down her chopsticks. âWhat happened at Ishikawa? What really happened? Not the PR bullshit that spread around.â
Youâre quiet for a long moment. Youâve told this story before, to lawyers and HR and partly to her father. But youâve never really laid it all out honestly.
âI didnât know,â you say finally. âThatâs the short version. The partners were running a scheme, using client accounts to funnel money into shell companies, and I didnât know. I should have. The signs were all there, if you knew where to look. But I was so focused on my work, on making partner, that I didnât see what was right in front of me.â
âThatâsâŚThatâs not your fault.â
âIsnât it? I prided myself on catching what others missed. I was that guy. The one that reads between the lines. But I missed the biggest thing thatâs happening in my own firm.â You stare at the mess of papers on the floor. âI think thatâs what bothers me the most. Not that I lost my job. That I was so blind.â
âYou werenât blind. You were trusting. Thereâs a difference.â
âThe result is the same.â
âNo, itâs not.â She moves closer. Sits beside you instead of across from you. âBlind people donât learn. Trusting people who get burned learn to be more careful next time. Youâre not going to make that mistake again.â
âHow do you know?â
âBecause youâre already looking to be redeemed. Youâre already questioning everything. You double-check every assumption. Thatâs not blindness. Thatâs someone who got hurt and refuses to get hurt the same way twice.â
You really donât know what to say after that. So you donât say anything.
She reaches over. Squeezes your hand. Lets go before it becomes something else.
âWell, we should get some sleep,â she says. âTomorrowâs going to be long.â
âYou said the same thing yesterday.â
âEvery day with my family is long.â She stands. Offers you a hand up. âCome on. Out of my suite. Youâve got your own perfectly nice apartment to brood in.â
You take her hand. She pulls you to your feet. And for a moment youâre standing very close, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes, close enough to feel her breath.
Neither of you moves.
âGoodnight, Akihiro,â she says. Softly.
âGoodnight, Eunbi.â
You walk to the connecting door. Open it. Look back.
Sheâs still standing where you left her. Watching you with an expression you canât read.
You close the door behind you.
Your phone buzzes.
čŹčĽ: still thinking about me Aki-kun?
čŹčĽ: good boy~ âĄ
You turn off your phone and try to sleep.
You donât dream of Tsuki tonight.
You dream of Eunbi instead. (Great. This. Whatever this is. Itâs going to be a problem.)
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Day Three
Youâre in a meeting room with three Kwon cousins arguing about a holding entity. Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You donât check.
Later, in the bathroom, you look.
Kim Jiwoo ¡ Seoul Financial Review: âI know youâre in Seoul, Hinode-san. Iâm based here. Coffee? Twenty minutes anywhere you pick. I just want to have a conversation.â
You close the message.
Walking back to the meeting room you wonder briefly how the fuck she knows youâre in Seoul.
The day goes by with more work. A lot more progress. Extremely more time spent in her orbit, gravity pulling you close but not quite touching.
She brushes against you when she reaches for the documents. Her hand finds your arm when sheâs making a point. Once, leaning over your shoulder to look at something on your laptop, you feel her breath against your ear and have to excuse yourself to get water. (The skinship thatâs happening is beyond what you imagine.)
âYou okay?â she asks when you return.
âFine. Just needed to stretch.â
âYouâve been stretching a lot today.â
âIâm a stretchy person.â
âWho are you? Monkey D. Luffy?â
âNo. Sorry. I just panicked.â
You both burst of laughter and the tension ratchets up another notch.
By dinner, youâre both avoiding eye contact.
âThis is ridiculous,â she says finally. âWeâre adults. I like you and you clearly like me. We can both acknowledge attraction like grown adults without making it weird.â
âCan we?â
âApparently not, based on the last three hours.â She sets down her chopsticks. âCards on the table. I find you attractive. Iâm pretty sure you also find me attractive. Weâre both single, weâre both consenting adults, and weâre going to be working together for the foreseeable future. So we need to decide how to handle this.â
âHow do you want to handle⌠this?â
âI asked you first.â
âThatâs⌠Thatâs not fair.â
âI never said I was fair.â She leans back in her chair. âTell me what you want, Akihiro. No wrong answers. Just honest ones.â
What do you want?
If you really are being honest then⌠You want to kiss her. You want to pull her into your lap and find out what sounds she makes when sheâs not the feisty venture capitalist that she is. You want to forget about Tsuki, about Ishikawa, about everything thatâs happened in the last month, and just be present with someone who seems to actually see through you.
But you also know thereâs something else. Someone else. A presence in your head that wonât let go, no matter how much you want it to.
âI want to figure out what I want,â you finally say. âThatâs the honest answer. Iâm attracted to you. I like spending my time with you. But thereâs⌠something else. Something Iâm still trying to understand. And until I do, I donât think I can give you what you deserve.â
For a moment the room is filled with silence.
âThatâs either the most honest thing a man has ever said to me,â she says, âor the most elaborate brush-off.â
âItâs not a brush-off Eunbi.â
âThen what is it?â
âA rain check.â You meet her eyes. âIâm not saying no. Iâm saying not yet. Not until I can be fully present with you.â
She nods slowly; processing.Â
âOkay,â she says. âI can work with that.â
âYou sure you can?â
âIâm not going to force myself on someone who isnât ready. Thatâs not who I am.â She stands. Starts aggressively gathering the dinner containers. âBut Iâm also not going to wait forever. Figure out your shit, Akihiro. Then let me know.â
She leaves the room. You hear her in the kitchen, washing dishes with more force than strictly necessary.
You donât blame her.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Day Four
Meetings all morning with various Kwon relatives, each more complicated than the last. Then a working lunch with Minjun where he asks pointed questions about your five-year plan and seem satisfied with your answers.
By evening, youâre exhausted. You order room service and eat alone in your suite, staring out at the river.
Your phone buzzes.
Kwon Eunbi: I owe you an apology
You: For what?
Kwon Eunbi: Last night. I was pushy. You set a boundary and I made it weird.
You: Donât worry about it.
You: You didnât make it weird.
Kwon Eunbi: I definitely made it a little weird. Let me buy you a drink to make up for it.
You: Youâve bought me a lot of drinks this week.
Kwon Eunbi: One drink. Connecting door. Bring your best brooding face.
You: Iâll be there in twenty
You shower. Change into a clean shirt. Tell yourself this is just a drink. (You know itâs not just a drink. She knows itâs not just a drink. You repeat it over and over inside your head, this ainât just a drink, right? Youâre clearly going insane.)
You knock on the connecting door anyway.
She opens it in silk pajamas. Hair loose. Face bare of makeup.
âHi,â she says.
âHi.â
âYou came.â
âYou asked.â
She steps aside. You step through.
The suite is warm. Jazz playing softly from somewhere. Two glasses of wine already poured on the coffee table.
âI was hoping youâd say yes,â she admits.
âWhat would you have done if I said no?â
âDrank both glasses myself and pretend it never happened.â She hands you a glass. âSit. Youâre making me nervous.â
âI make you nervous?â
âEverything about this makes me nervous.â She sits on the couch. Leaves space for you. âI donât do this, you know. Invite men to my suite. Mix business with⌠whatever this is.â
âWhat is this?â
âI donât know yet.â She looks at you. Those bright eyes, so different from Tsukiâs. âBut Iâd like to find out. If youâre willing.â
You should say no. You should protect her from whateverâs happening in your head, the presence that wonât let go, the unfinished business you have with someone you donât understand.
But sheâs looking at you like you matter. Like youâre worth the risk.
âIâm willing,â you hear yourself say.
She sets down her wine. Moves closer. Her hand finds your jaw, turns your face toward hers.
âAre you sure?â
âYes.â
âBecause once we do this, we canât undo it.â
âI know.â
âAnd I meant what I said. I donât like sharing. If this happens, I need you here. With me. Fully present.â
âIâm here.â
âAre you?â
You kiss her instead of answering.
She makes a sound against your mouth. Surprised, maybe. Then her hands are in your hair and sheâs kissing you back, and everything youâve been holding back floods out.
âWait.â She pulls back. Breathing hard. âWait. I need to tell you something first.â
âWhat?â
âI havenâtââ She closes her eyes. Opens them slowly. âItâs been a long time. Years. Iâve been so focused on work, on proving myself, that I havenât⌠this is the first time Iâve wanted anyone in a very long time.â
âEunbiââ
âIâm not saying that to pressure you. Iâm just saying it because I need you to know that this means something to me. I donât do casual.â
You touch her face. Trace the line of her jaw.
âNeither do I.â
She kisses you again.
This time neither of you pulls back.
Her hands find the buttons of your shirt. She works them open one by one, her mouth never leaving yours, and when the fabric parts she runs her palms across your chest.
âMhmm~â She pulls back just enough to look. âYouâve been hiding this.â
âI havenât beenââ
âShut up.â She pushes the shirt off your shoulders. Kisses your collarbone. Your sternum. The hollow of your throat. âLet me enjoy this.â
You reach for her pajama top. She raises her arms and lets you pull it over her head.
God.
Her breasts are fuller than you expected. Heavy and round, nipples already hard, flushed pink against her skin. Nothing like Tsukiâs, which were pert and perfect and calculated to destroy you. Eunbiâs are generous. Soft. Extremely soft. The kind you want to bury your face in and willingly suffocate in.
âYouâre staring,â she says.
âI canât help it.â (You really canât. Her body is a super massive blackhole and your eyes are getting pulled into it and your mind is in mid-spaghettification)
âGood.â She takes your hands. Place them on her breasts. âDonât help it.â
You cup them. Feel their weight in your palms. When your thumb brush her nipples she gasps, arching into your touch, her eyes fluttering closed.
âYes,â she breathes. âLike that. Fuck, like thatââ
You lean down and take one nipple in your mouth. She cries out, her hands flying to your hair, pulling you closer. You suck. Roll the other nipple between your fingers. She writhes beneath you making sounds that are nothing like Tsukiâs. These are raw and real.
âMore,â she gasps. âI need moreââ
You kiss down her stomach. Hook your fingers into the waistband of her pajama bottoms and pull them down slowly, kissing each new inch of skin as itâs revealed. Her hips. Her thighs. The crease where her leg meets her body. She lifts her hips to help you, kicking the fabric away, and then sheâs naked beneath you.
A gift from the gods unwrapped in its full glory. All of her. Curved and soft and warm and confident and⌠all yours.
âYour turn,â she says, reaching for your belt.
She undoes it with fumbling fingers. Pulls down your zipper. You help her get your pants and boxers off, and when your cock springs free she makes a sound low in her throat.
âOh.â She wraps her hand around you. Strokes. âOh!~â
âThat good or bad?â
âThatâsâŚâ She gulped. âGood. Thatâs very, very good.â She strokes again, watching your face.
âIâve been thinking about this since the plane. Watching your hands. Wondering how theyâd feel.â
âOh?â She slides off the couch onto her knees. âHow does it feel so far?â Looks up at you with those bright eyes.
You fail to give her any sort of response from that assault.
âLet me taste you.â
Before you can respond, her mouth is already on you.
âFuck,â you groan as she takes you deeper. âYour mouthââ
She hums around your cock. The vibration makes your hips jerk.
âYou like that?â She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips brushing your tip. âYou like my mouth on your cock?â
âYesââ
She takes you deep again. Deeper. You feel the back of her throat, feel her swallow around you, and your hands fist in her hair.
âIâm gonnaâif you keep doing thatââ
She pulls off. Stands. Climbs onto your lap, straddling you, and before your mind catches up to whatâs happening sheâs reaching between you, positioning you at her entrance. Sheâs soaked. You can feel it. The head of your cock sliding through her folds, coating you in her wetness.
âLook at me,â she says. âI want to see your face when you finally stop calculating.â You look at her. Time stops. Seconds become years.
She sinks down.
âOh fuckââ Her head falls back, her mouth open, her whole body trembling. âChrist. Christ, Akihiro. I had a number for this in my head and you just blew right past it.â
You try to find the right words in your head. Sheâs tight. Tighter than you expected, her walls gripping you, and wet, so fucking wet that you slide all the way to the hilt.
âEunbiââ
âShhh.â She rolls her hips. Adjusts. Takes a shaky breath. âJustâlet me feel you. Itâs been so long. Let me feel how deep you can go.â
âEunbiââ
She starts to move. Slow at first. Finding her rhythm. Her hands on your chest, her eyes half-closed, making sounds that are high and breathless and abso-fucking-lutely real.
âYou feel amazing,â she gasps. âFuck, you feelâI forgot how good this couldâYouâre so big inside meâFuck!â
You grip her hips. Start moving with her. She cries out.
âThereâright thereâdonât stopâpleaseâfill me upââ
You donât stop. You fuck up into her while she rides you, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. Her breasts bounce with every thrust and you canât stop watching them, canât stop thinking about how different this is from Tsuki. She controlled you, denied you access, always keeping you on the edge without ever letting you fall. But Eunbi is giving everything. All sheâs got. Generous. Taking everything you have and giving it back twofold.
âHarder,â she moans. âFuck me harderââ
You flip her. Put her on her back, her legs wrapped around your waist, and you pound into her tight pussy the way youâve wanted to pound into someone for longer than you can remember.
âYesâyesâyesâyes!â Sheâs almost chanting now, mindless, her nails raking down your back. âJust like that, please donât stop, Iâm gonnaâIâm gonnaâFuck!â
She comes. Her whole body seizes, her cunt clamping down on you so hard you start seeing stars constructing whole constellations in your head. You fuck her through it, watching her face contort with pleasure, feeling her pulse around your cock.
âDonât stop,â she gasps as soon as she can breathe. âKeep going. I told you I donât do slow. I told you I donât do half. Donât make me a liar.â
âTurn around.â
She gives you the horniest grin. Wild. Hungry. The composed heiress is gone; this version wants to devour you.
She flips onto her hands and knees. Look back at you over her shoulder. And the viewâfuck, the view. Her ass is round and peach-perfect, her pussy glistening and swollen, her spine curved in invitation.
âLike this?â
You grab her hips. She arches. God that arch. You push inside. She moans, dropping her head, pushing back against you.
âOh God. There. Rightâthere. Akihiro, there.â
You fuck her like youâve never fucked anyone else. Hard. Deep. Starved. Watching yourself disappear into her over and over. Watching her body shake with each impact. Feeling how tight she grips you with every thrust. Sheâs so wet you can hear it, slick and obscene, and her moans are building higher with every thrust.
âYesâfuck yesâdonât stopââ
And thenâ
Something shifts.
Her hair looks darker suddenly. Her skin paler. The curve of her spine changes, becomes something more familiar, and when she looks back over her shoulder her eyes turn flat and dark and everything warm turns cold, everything bright turns dark, andâ
Tsuki.
Sheâs Tsuki. Under you, taking you, moaning your name, and youâre fucking her the way youâve wanted to fuck her for weeks, hard and deep, and desperate, and sheâs finally letting you, finally giving you what sheâs been denyingâ
âThis is what youâve been wanting, Aki-kun,â Tsuki croons. âTake. Take it. I let you, this once. Donât think I wonât take it back.â
You slam into her. Feral. Desperate. Angry. All the frustration of the past week pouring out. She takes it, takes all of it, crying out with every thrust, and youâre so close, so fucking closeâ
âAkihiroââ
It shifts again. Eunbiâs voice. Eunbiâs face. Eunbiâs body. The vision shatters.
You freeze. Heart pounding hard. Cock still throbbing inside her. (What the fuck was that?!)
âAkihiro please donât stop,â she gasps. âGod, donât stop, Iâm so fucking closeââ
You force yourself to move. Force yourself to be present. This is Eunbi. This is real. She is real. Her warm, soft body. Her genuine moans. Her need that matches your own.
Stay here, stay with her.
Iâm gonna cum again,â she warns. âFuck Iâm gonnaââ
She does. Harder than before. Her whole body convulses, her cunt milking you, and this time you finally let yourself go with her. You bury yourself to the hilt and come, pumping your seed into her, filling her up while she shakes beneath you.
âOh fuckââ Sheâs still trembling. âOh fuck, I can feel itâyouâre cumming so muchâso warmâ
You collapse on top of her. Both of you panting. Both of you wrecked.
âHoly shit,â she breathes.
âYeah.â
âThat wasâŚâ
âYeah.â
She laughs. Breathless. Turns her head to kiss you sloppily.
But sheâs not done. After a minute, she pushes you onto your back. Your cock is still half hard, slick with her wetness and your cum, and she wraps her hand around it, stroking until youâre fully hard again.
âI told you,â she says, grinning down at you. âItâs been three years. I have a lot of lost time to make up for.â
She straddles you. Sinks down onto your cock in one smooth motion, and you can feel how wet she is, slick with you, dripping at each motion.
âFuck, thatâs hot,â she breathes, starting to move. âFeeling you inside me like this. Feeling how wet I am from you. Feeling your cum going deeper in me.â
She rides you slowly this time. Her hips rolling in lazy circles, her breasts swaying in your face. You watch them. Reach up and cup them, squeeze them, roll her nipples between your fingers.
âYes,â she gasps. âTouch me. Take whatâs yours. I love the way you touch my tits.â
You lean up. Take one nipple in your mouth. She cries out, her rhythm stuttering.
âFuckâand your mouthââ You suck harder. She fucks you faster. Her moans building again, her walls tightening around you, and you can feel another orgasm building in both of you.
âIâm close,â she gasps. âFuck, Iâm close againââ
âMe too Eunbi.â
âCome with me.â Sheâs riding you frantically now, chasing it. âCome inside me againâI want you to fill me upââ
She comes. Clenches around you, crying out, and you follow her over the edge. Spilling into her for a second time, adding to the mess you already made inside her, and she collapses onto your chest with a satisfied groan.
âJesus Christ,â she mumbles against your skin. âWhere the fuck did you come from?â
âI donât really know where I came from but just know that now, I feel like Iâm in heaven.â
You laugh. She laughs.
âWell you and me both.â She lifts her head. Grins at you, sweaty and satisfied, your cum leaking out of her onto your thigh. âWeâre doing that at least three more times before you leave.â
âI might actually die.â
âWorth it.â She kisses you, soft and sweet. Nothing like Tsuki. âTotally fucking worth it.â You hold her. Let yourself be held. You donât mention anything about the vision.
You really donât know how.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
She curls against your side, pulls the blanket over both of you, rest her head on your chest.
âThat was so good,â she says, sleepy and satisfied. âI forgot how good that could be.â She traced patterns on your chest. âI was starting to think Iâd forgotten how.â
âYou definitely didnât forget.â
âGood to know the equipment still works.â She yawns. âYouâre staying in Seoul for another few days. My father has more meetings scheduled.â
âOkay.â
âAnd I cleared my calendar.â
âOkay.â
âAnd Iâm keeping you.â
You should clarify. Set expectations. Manage whatever this is becoming.
âOkay,â you say.
She falls asleep within minutes
You lie there in the dark, listening to her breathe, watching Seoul glitter beyond the windows.
Youâre thinking about the vision. About Tsukiâs face where Eunbiâs should have been.
No matter what happens, some part of you will wish it was me.
Some part of you does. You donât know how to feel about that.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
The nightmare comes around 3AM.
Masks. Hundreds of them. The mask you saw from the hotel hallway when you first met Tsuki, multiplied across every wall of an endless room. Their faces shift, anguish to rage, to something that might be hunger, and theyâre all watching you.
You try to run. The floor is soft, wet, giving way beneath your feet. Slowly eating you alive.
Laughter echoes from everywhere. High-pitched. Demonic. Distorted. Mocking.
âAki-kun,â a voice croons. Tsukiâs voice, but wrong. âWhere are you going, Akihiro-kun?â
You run faster. The masks lean down from the walls.
âAkihiro.â The voice is everywhere. Nowhere. âDid you think you could escape me?â
âAKIHIRO.â
You jerk awake. Heart pounding. Sheets damp with sweat.
Eunbi is propped up beside you. Her hand is on your chest.
âNightmare?â she asks softly.
âIâyeah.â
âYou were saying a name.â
Your blood goes cold.
âWhat name?â
âTsuki.â
The word hangs between you. Heavy. Damning. (Youâre fucking screwed)
âSo thatâs the mystery woman,â she says.
âYes.â
Sheâs quiet for a long moment. Then she pushes the blankets aside and stands.
You see her in the low light. All of her. The curve of her spine, the fullness of her hips, her breasts swaying slightly as she moves. Even now, even in this moment, sheâs beautiful. Unconsciously sensual in a way thatâs nothing like Tsuki.
She walks to the bathroom. You hear water running. She returns with a glass, sits on the edge of the bed, offers it to you.
âDrink.â
You take the glass. Drink. Your hands are shaking slightly.
âHow long has this been happening?â she asks. âThe nightmares.â
âSince I met her. About a week ago.â
âThatâs when you met me too.â
âI know.â
She nods. Processing.
âWe all have our ghosts,â she says finally.
âEunbi, Iââ
âDonât.â Her voice is gentle but firm. âDonât apologize for your subconscious. You canât control what you dream about.â
âIt doesnât bother you?â
âOf course it bothers me.â She takes the glass from your hands. Sets it on the nightstand. âBut I knew what this was when I started it. I knew you were carrying something. I just didnât know her name.â
âIâm sorry.â
âYou better be.â She lies back down. But thereâs distance now. Inches that werenât there before. âTry to sleep. We can talk in the morning.â
âEunbiââ
âMorning, Hinode-san. Everything makes more sense in daylight.â
She turns away. Not hostile. Just⌠done.
You lie there in the dark, watching the ceiling, feeling like youâve broken something you didnât know was fragile.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Morning comes too early.
You wake to gray light and an empty bed. For a moment you think she left. But then you hear sounds from the kitchen.
Sheâs making coffee.
You find her at the counter, wearing nothing but one of your shirts. It barely covers her thighs. Her hair is mussed. She looks soft. Domestic. She looks like something you could have.
âCream and sugar are on the table,â she says without looking up. âI didnât know how you take it.â
âBlack is fine.â
âOf course it is.â She pushes a cup toward you. Meets your eyes. âYou look terrible.â
âDidnât sleep well.â
âI noticed.â She takes a sip of her own coffee. Studies you over the rim. âIâve been thinking.â
âAbout?â
âLast night. The nightmare. Tsuki.â
You wait.
âI like you, Hinode-san,â she says. âI think we could be good together. Professionally, personally, whatever. But Iâm not going to be someoneâs second choice.â
âYouâre notâŚâ
âLet me finish.â She holds up a hand. âI believe you when you say you donât understand whatâs happening with this Tsuki person. I even believe you when you say you want to be here, with me.â
âI do.â
âI know.â She sets down her cup. âBut I also know what I heard last night. You werenât just dreaming about her. You were terrified of her. And when you said her nameâŚâ She trails off. Shakes her head. âThere was longing in your voice. Need.â
âI donât know how to explain it.â
âThen donât. Not now.â She takes another sip. âHereâs what I propose. The business arrangement stands. My father likes you. The restructuring work is real. Iâll make sure you get it, because you deserve it, and because itâs the right decision for the family.â
âBut?â
âBut thisââ she gestures between you ââneeds to wait. Until you figure out what you want. Who you want.â
âEunbiâŚâ
âFigure it out Hinode-san.â She says it simply. Without cruelty. âI mean that. Whatever this is, obsession, curse, trauma response, I donât know, you need to figure it out. Not for me. For you.â
âAnd if I do? If I figure it out and come back?â
Her jaw unclenches. The sharpness leaves her face.
âIf Iâm still not taken then weâll have a different conversation.â She reaches across the counter. Squeezes your hand once, then lets go. âI like you, Akihiro. More than I probably should. But I didnât build a career by making exceptions for people who couldnât even meet me halfway.â
âThatâs fair.â
âI know it is.â She checks her watch. âYou have a meeting with my father in two hours. The car will be here in ninety minutes. I suggest you shower.â
âEunbiâŚâ
âWeâre okay.â She says it firmly. Like sheâs decided it. âThis isnât goodbye. Itâs just⌠a pause. Figure out your ghost. Then call me.â
She disappears into her bedroom before you can respond.
You stand alone in the kitchen of her penthouse you donât deserve, drinking coffee thatâs better than anything youâve ever made, watching Seoul wake up beyond the windows.
Your phone buzzes. You check it more reflexively than expectantly.
Kim Jiwoo ¡ Seoul Financial Review: Hinode-san. Following up. The Polaris piece is closing this week and I think we should talk before it runs.
You donât answer. You donât even read past the first line. You put the phone face-down on the countertop.
A minute later it buzzes again. This time you look.
čŹčĽ: well done
Two words. Nothing else. You stare at the screen until it goes dark.
She knew. She always knows.
Iâm what you canât stop wanting.
Youâre starting to believe her.
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
The rest of the week passes in a blur of meetings, contracts, and careful distance.
Eunbi is professional, cordial, and warm; business associates type of warm. A hand on your shoulder during introductions. A smile when you make a clever point. Nothing that would seem out of place to an observer.
But she doesnât touch you or look at you like she did that night. Whatever door opened between you, sheâs closed it. Gently but firmly. You donât push. You wouldnât know how.
The work is solid. The Kwon family is complicated but youâre used to complicated (Eunbi wasnât exaggerating comparing it to Game of Thrones, only unlike the show youâve produced a better ending).
By Saturday, youâve outlined a restructuring plan that will save them approximately twelve million dollars in tax liability while keeping the various cousins from actively murdering each other.
âImpressive,â Minjun says when you present it. âYou work fast.â
âI had good information to work with.â
âMy daughter said youâd be modest.â He signs the retainer agreement with a flourish. âShe also said you were more interesting than you let on. Iâm inclined to agree.â
You fly back to Tokyo that evening. Eunbi sees you off at the airport.
âThank you,â you tell her. âFor all of it.â
âDonât thank me. This is business.â But she smiles when she says it. âFigure out your ghost, Hinode-san. Then call me.â
âAnd if I canât?â
âThen youâll have a very successful consulting career and a string of mediocre relationships.â She kisses your cheek. âBut I donât think thatâs what you want.â
Your phone buzzes between you. Eunbi glances at the screen automatically. So do you.
âAbout something else, she keeps saying. I havenât found out what.â
Eunbi looks at you. Says nothing. Files the information away the way youâve watched her file every other piece of information about you all week.
She walks away before you can respond.
Your flight lands at Narita at 8PM. You take the train home. Climb the stairs to your apartment.
The door is unlocked.
You know whoâs waiting before you even step inside.
But when you open the door, what you find stops you cold.
Tsuki is on your couch. Same position as before. Same book in her hands.
Sheâs completely naked.
Every inch of her exposed. Pale skin glowing in the lamplight. Those full breasts youâve only glimpsed before. The curve of her waist, the swell of her hips.
She doesnât look up from the book.
Her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
âWelcome home, Aki-kun,â she says. âWe need to talk.â
You donât react. But youâve never seen her hesitate. Three weeks of texts. Two encounters: the hotel and your apartment. The corridor. And youâve never seen her need a second to find a word.
You donât say anything about it.
You donât think she noticed.
You stand in the doorway, frozen, unable to look away.
âClose the door, Akihiro-kun.â She finally looks up. Those flat, dark eyes. That dangerous smile. âYouâre letting the cold in.â
âŚâŚâĄâĄâĄâĄ
A/N: So⌠You stayed for another chapter. Good boy~. I wasn't entirely sure you would, after what I did to him.
You and I have more time together coming; Bunn is taking his time, as usual. Leave a comment so he knows you want what's next. A like, a follow, a recommend; all of it reaches him. All of it reaches me~ (And some of you reached me very thoroughly last time. Thank you. Do that again.)
Reviews and suggestions welcome. I'd be very disappointed if you held them back from me.
See you in the next chapter, reader-san~
â čŹčĽ
~Le Sserafim's Yunjin (x Male Reader), 5.5 k words, Smut, Angst
Read it on Fanprose
A/N:
Based on one of my favourite songs, less of you by Keshi.
Thank you to @erospandemos for ideating with me all those months back!
Also, for some reason every time I write Yunjin IT TURNS OUT LIKE THIS. No spoilers.
"Where are you?"
"I'm out."
"Out where?"
"What does it matter, Yunjin. You're out all the time."
The line stays silent, and you can almost see the way her face contorts into hurt at your words.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." You lean on the brick wall of the alleyway, cool night air blowing away cigarette smoke.
"I'm not out. I'm working."
"I know, baby. I'm proud of you." The words are empty; it's not that you don't mean them, it's just they've been said time and time again. Like the weight of the words has been slowly leaking, drifting into the air.
"I'm coming back next month." Maybe you were wrong about how her face contorted. Maybe it wasn't even hurt. Maybe it was that despondent sort of apathy that came with being disappointed one too many times. Maybe she didn't even make a face, just listened to the words and felt nothing. "We're delaying the European leg. Just for a bit. I'll have a week to chill in Seoul."
Maybe you don't feel anything either. Maybe you're used to it all, the routine, the calling, the : "hey, baby how was the show? You looked great up there, can't wait to see you again". Maybe you're used to being alone, connected by a landline to someone who was equally alone, except for the whole world screaming their name.
"I don't even," you pause, and no, you do feel something. You feel it all.
"You don't even what?" she asks, and you don't know if it's despondence, hurt or anxiety, the way you get anxious over whether a couple words will tear your apart.
"I don't even remember what you look like sometimes."
You imagine she's hurt.
---
She doesn't call you the next 3 weeks. You've stopped watching all the fancams, stopped keeping up with all the interviews. It's too much, to see Yunjin smile when all you want to do is scream.
It's a tad dramatic, but just by a bit. You've gotten used to it. You can sprawl on the bed, stay out late. You never have to say no to the invites. It's all just a distraction, all some misdirection so you don't have to stare at that burning red fire in your heart that says you're lost without her, though.
You're leaning on the wall of the bar again, long drag of the cigarette wafting when you call her. Your friends are probably looking for you, but that's alright.
"Hi."
"You awake?"
"Mmhm."
"I just⌠wanted to hear your voice." It's weird, to admit it. It's weird that it's weird. You've known her for a decade, been dating for half of that, but your voice still comes out all hoarse.
"I'm here."
"I checked on your mom yesterday. She misses New Yoâ"
"I know. She called me last night."
The answer is short and testy. You get it. She's busy, hell, you are too. But at least you're here. You curse your line of thinking because this has always been Yunjin's dream. But still, it's enough for you to recoil and say: "Do you think it's better if we just, cut things loose?"
You hear the static through the phone, and it's like you're hearing the thousands of miles between you two, the month long trips, the after practice phone calls where she's tired and can't talk long, the good morning texts you forget to respond to.
You don't know why you said it. You know that it's just going to put more weight on the two of you, you know it's not what you want, it's not even what she wants. Maybe you just said it so you could hear something, some semblance of emotion in her voice.
It works. Her voice is strained and choked when she says "I don't know how to do this without you."
It's not fair. She's been operating without you the whole time. She says it like the weekly i believe in u texts you stopped sending a month ago were the only things that held her together, like you were her engine, or whatever the cliche was. "Then tell me what to do," you pleaded.
She's crying now, and so are you, outside a bar in Seoul while heaps and heaps of fans wait for her shows. The cigarette helps a little.
"Wait for me."
---
Is it bad to say you were nervous to see her? Is it bad that after nearly a year, you were scared? Honestly, you're glad she asked you not to go to the airport. There would be too many cameras there anyway.
Something in your soul shifts, you swear it, the moment you see her, the moment she steps out of the company car, with a face mask covering the face you can't remember. It's almost better that way, adds to the anticipation. Yeah, you're anticipating now, can't wait to see her, can't wait to hold her and tell her you're sorry and that you don't know how to do this without her either.
She's barely out of the car when she rushes to you, and she feels like home and honey and smells like she always does, like nuts and figs, and you do tell her, a crying mess you say: "I missed you so much".
"I'm such a mess, I need a shower," she laughs into your chest.
It's dangerous, you hugging this A-list celebrity outside an apartment in Seoul, but neither of you care. "I'm sorry for everything," you cry. "I just missed you."
You feel her smile into you. "I missed you too. He's looking, isn't he?"
You look to the company driver, scolding you with his glare. She's still working, she always is wherever eyes can see. "He is," you laugh.
"We should go up."
"Yeah, but you're comfy."
"C'mon, we can snuggle all night."
"You haven't moved either," you point out.
"Yeah, 'cause you're comfy."
"That's what I said. I thought it was time to go."
Yunjin loosens up a little, just enough so her face isn't glued to your chest and looks up to you. She looks at you, wanting and happy, but also tired and searching, like: yeah, this is all nice, but what about the past year? What about all the distance, all the dejection. It's gone in a flash. She pulls her mask down.
"Now do you remember what I look like?"
You lean in, and she closes the gap in a second. It's red hot fire, just like her hair, which is blonde now but it still feels the same, like flames in your hands as you run your fingers through it. She tastes different. She tastes the same.
Ahem.
You're forced up to the apartment, bowing a low apology to the company driver.
It's better this way. She showers, and you finally get to see the real her, the one you know, the one you fell in love with, not all glammed up for the cameras but raw and real and beautiful and just for you. You hold her the whole night, let her talk your ear off about the tour, about Eunchae and the girls, about New York and home, about how she wishes they'd add a Toronto stop so she could see your home, about how she's so fucking sorry if you felt like you were being ignored. And you tell her no, that you should be sorry and that you missed her so much. About how you were cranky because really, truly you don't know how to do this without her but everything is okay now, because she's in your arms and she feels like Toronto, and you tell her this until she falls asleep in your arms and you fall asleep in hers.
---
You wake up on the couch, same position you fell asleep in and the sun shines through the window. Maybe it's the light or the plants you replaced because you let the old ones die, or just Yunjin clinging onto you, eyes still closed and soft, but the whole place looks a little brighter, feels a little more like home.
You kiss her on the forehead. She stirs in that same way she always does, keeping her eyes closed but tensing her body in an almighty stretch.
"Mmmm," she groans, and then she wakes up with her eyes and they're already locked on yours.
You stay there for a moment, just watching each other, before you kiss her. You kiss her because she's home and she's yours.
"Ew, I just woke up," she says, lazily bringing a hand up to your face. "Kiss me after I brush my teeth."
You kiss her again, with tongue, just to prove a point. "I've waited long enough. "
"You're disgusting," she laughs, but she kisses you back.
It's just pecks at first, but it devolves into something more. Something better.
After nearly a year, nothing could hold you back now. Your breathing grows more erratic as your tongue climbs deeper into her, your body warms as she shifts so you're no longer holding her, but shes straddling you right on the couch.
The kiss says everything you said last night and more, the i'm sorry's and the i missed you's. You sit up, because just laying there while she's on top of you wouldn't be grand enough for your return. You need to press every inch of your body into her, every fabric of your being, feel her breasts, the warmth of her sex on your lap so that even when she goes on tour and leaves you again, you'll have imprinted your love on her and she on you. Maybe that way you'd feel less empty without her.
Your hands are in her hair, softly, lovingly, and you try pushing her down so you can love her harder, but she's pushing back against you until you're just two people pushing against each other after a thousand years of distance.
It'd be impossible to stay there, lest you suffocate and die in her lips, which doesn't seem so bad, but she pulls away before you let it happen.
"I need you inside me again."
Again, she says, like it's recurring, scheduled, automatic like she didn't just go a year without it. Or maybe she meant it like: it's been so long, I've been waiting for this for so long.
Yeah, that makes more sense, but it doesn't matter much now. What does matter is how she claws your back, whispers through the kisses for you to take it off.
Your hands slide to her front, lifting the oversized shirt she loves to steal from you up.
Your shirts are off in a second. You don't close the gap, you just sit there in awe, looking at her shirtless form, her messy hair cascading down her head, the sharpness of her collarbone, her perfect breasts, nipples pointed at you like they missed you.
"I'm dating Huh Yunjin," you say out of breath, disbelief lining the air.
Huh Yunjin smiles a bit, just a curve, a hint, some acknowledgement before she escalates things with: "Huh Yunjin wants you to fuck her silly. Like, a year's worth of fuck."
You used to worship those lips, not only because of how plump they fucking are, glossy and generous, but because they know exactly what to say to drive you nuts. Over the phone, that meant something else, but here, it means if she says she wants you to fuck her, then you're going to fuck her.
So: you do. All nastily you jump on her, hands on her breasts, kneading as you kiss her lips, down to her neck, sucking and pecking. Her head is thrown back and it's like the first time you met Yunjin, the excitement of it all. She's calling your name, screaming it as you work your tongue down to her chest.
You're feral for Huh Yunjin. Your tongue dances around her, finding her nipples, flicking and flicking until her back arches and her hands are in your hair, asking for more.
"Don't stop, don't fucking stop," she groans all haughtily. "Keep on going!"
The melody of it all spurs you on. A hand slips away from her breast, climbing lower, infiltrating those old pajama pants with ease.
It's so fucking humid in there which only turns you on more. Her panties are soaked, and you can't choose between keeping your mouth latched onto her nipple or switching focus to her cunt.
"I'm gonna taste you, baby," you decide, and all she can do is moan in response. You trace a finger over her pussy, still clothed with the wet garment, all slow and teasing before you bring it to your mouth. She's staring at you needily, and you her when you take the finger and lick it, lick all her moistness and slick. She shudders at the sight.
"H-how do I taste?"
Actually, your cock is throbbing in your pants because of how good she tastes, the perfect amount of sweetness and musk of a girl, your girl unfucked for a year. "So fucking good," you admit, thrusting your hand back down her pants.
She shakes when you trace the finger again over her clothed folds, bringing it up to her lips.
"Taste it, baby."
She opens her mouth, tongue lolling out as she laps the sticky stuff , all stringy in its viscosity.
"Holy fuck, you're so fucking hot."
"Come here," she begs, her own cunt juice lining her tongue.
You jump in, kissing her, tongues dancing, sliding her juices all around.
It's mixing with your saliva to make this truly heavenly concoction, it's making you drunk. Your tongues are fighting, her body is arching into you, your cock is so damn hard you don't know how you haven't cum already.
You're sucking each other in, the taste of her cunt juice grows mellow and you just need more. You need a years worth of it, and when you finally do release your mouth from hers to kiss down her body again, it's like a vacuum the way she gasps for air.
You kiss down to her belly, hooking her pants and dragging it off, exposing her folds. It's like gold, like Christmas in that you've been waiting a whole fucking year for it, like her first performance, like her voice the first time she sang for you.
She's so fucking wet it's insane.
You've barely brought your tongue closer, barely inched when she shudders, even at just the feeling of your breath on her.
"Fâ"
You jump in before she can react, your tongue lapping up every drop of her warmth. She's squirming. You don't let up. She deserves every little bit of pleasure she's getting from this for leaving you alone, for showing the world more of her than she showed you.
"Jeâ holy shit, it's so fucking good," she groans.
Her pussy convulses around your tongue, leaking even more of her slick all over your face, and you wear it like war paint. You bring a hand to her twitching clit, rubbing it softly.
She grabs your hair, bounds of it, pulling and pulling until her cunt squeezes and she cums, hands holding you so she can't cum anywhere but your face.
She pulls you up, face still squinting in bliss.
"I told you to fuck me," she huffs.
You can already feel your balls welling upâ it's been a year after all. Just the thought of it, the idea of finally being able to do what you've been craving hits you.
You move slowly, taking her hands in yours as you line up with her sopping sex. You swear you've never been harder, the head of your cock throbbing and swelling, and it barely brushes against her pussy when you groan, squeeze her hands harder in focus.
She feels so good on the tip of your cock, it's throbbing right there at her entrance.
"B-baby."
You push in, and it's warmth, it's the fucking Sun and your nutrients and you realize this is it, this is why you've been so lost without her, because her pussy is your map, the only thing that makes sense.
She's squeezing your hands so tight her knuckles are white. She's tighter than you remember, walls closing in on you as you push further with a squelch. It's so fucking sticky, how your cock is thrusting into her.
You collapse onto her, still thrusting in before she takes all of you. You're bottomed out, laying on top of her as she whispers into your ear how she missed this, how she dreamed of you fucking her while she fingered herself in those lonely hotel rooms.
You pull back now, still slow, before you go back in. Your pace is quickening, soon you can even hear that lewd little smack of your balls, even over your shared grunts.
She's holding onto you for dear life, arms wrapped around you like she might lose you, and you pump and pump and pump to tell her, I'm not fucking going anywhere 'cause you're here.
It's so fucking risky, her being an idol and all, but her legs are wrapping around you and she's tightening, begging you, telling you where to cum. And you cum right there inside of her, spilling every little bit of hot load physically possible, the well of bliss climbing up your spine and releasing as pure love into her, spilling and spilling as she too cums. And at the end, you're just two huffing messes reunited, laying on the couch covered in cum and cum.
You fuck each other like this the whole day.
---
"Hey, my friends are going out tomorrow night. You think they'll be mad I didn't get them anything while I was on tour?"
"Tomorrow?" You don't mean it.
"Yeah," she says slowly.
"You're going out tomorrow?" You definitely don't mean it. But you still said it. Said it like: hey, I haven't seen you in a year. And you're going out with your friends tomorrow?
Her eyes find you. "That okay?", but really: Yeah. Did you think you were the only one I missed?
"Of course baby, have fun." Do you mean it? You don't know.
She plops a relieved head onto your shoulder, wrapping her arms around you. "I'll tell them you said hi."
Hey, listen, it's not like the whole week goes like this. You may be an angsty mess after the distance, but you're not a heartless monster.
It's great, actually. Forgetting what it's like to live alone, it's as great as falling in love again.
You can't believe you're admitting it, but the vanity in your washroom, now full with products upon products is the prettiest thing you've ever seen. Other than her, of course.
And the way she shoves you, hip first out of the way when you're cooking, all that's not how you do it, here, let me show you before she takes the chopsticks out of your hands and adds god knows what into your recipes.
It puts a smile on your face so big you don't even complaining that no actually, my way tastes way better.
It's even the most endearing thing in the world when you've already fallen asleep and she's still up, just laying there watching whatever it is she's watching, when she laughs. Not a cute little puppy laugh, but a full on guffaw. It wakes you, and you look around, asking what happened? what's wrong? is everything alright? and she covers her mouth, looking apologetic and telling you to go back to sleep, sorry for waking you. You don't, you stay up, watching with her, teasing her that her fans are wrong, she can laugh at home.
And of course, you fuck her like she's yours. What it would be like for this to last forever.
---
"3 days," you say lazily one night, eating her favourite takeout food on the couch, watching her favourite TV show, It Was Only a Week. "You're gonna be gone again in 3 days."
You love this couch, the version of it while she's still here. It's full of sweaters, the throw blanket is all bundled up, it's not clear of everything, unused like it usually is. You love this version of the house, and it'll be gone again in days.
She puts her head on your shoulder, sombre. "I'll be back," she says.
"For a while. And then you'll be gone again."
She tenses, just a bit. It's been a good couple of days. The best, but still, you're running away from things. "Is this too hard?"
Her head is still on your shoulder, betraying the strain in her voice, the tears welling up in her eyes.
"Did youâ did you really mean it when you asked?" she says.
"Asked what," you say, quiet, afraid of the answer.
"If it would be better if we cut things loose?"
"I need you, Yunjin." You're both just staring at the TV screen, bodies too afraid to react. It's like you're minds are still on the phone, still apart while you just sit there, huddled together like everything is okay.
"But is that okay? Is it okay that we need each other so badly? I'm never gonna stop touring! Not for a long time. This isn'tâ there's no end to this. Not for a while."
You shift on the couch, break the illusion. "Iâ"
"I love you," she cuts you off. "I really do, I just want us to be okay."
"I love you too, Yunjin, I didnâ"
"Good," she cuts you off again, as if she didn't raise the topic, as if she didn't flick whatever switch it was that brought her back to a thousand miles away. You think of pushing through, of telling her how you feel, but she kisses you again and she's back in front of you, looking so stunning and beautiful and real, not just an image on a screen, not just a voice on a landline.
You lean further into her.
She just came crashing back into your life after the distance, after you were used to living without her, and she came with a bang, a fierce crash the blew everything right into its rightful place. You don't care if it's toxic, if the lack of communication will only hurt, you're just happy she's really here to kiss you.
---
"Okay, and what about your mom, she'll want to come?"
"Yes, yes, I think Kkura and Eunchae are busy, but Chaewon and Zuha will be there!"
"Nice."
"Ew, you better not be watching Chaewon fancams while I'm gone," Yunjin slaps you on the arm.
"Catering is taken care of, venue is set, everything is ready for tomorrow. Congrats baby."
"Congrats? Why congrats?"
"I don't know, I just felt like saying it."
She laughs way too hard. It's really not all that funny, but you're going to miss that laugh. "I'm sorry we're spending my last day here having another going away party."
You reach a hand out to her and she grabs it, ushered into your chest by your pull. "That's okay. I can have you at night, though, right?"
"Mmm, I don't know. I have to be at the airport at like, 4 am."
"Then I guess, tonight I can have you?"
"I'm all yours."
Okay, you lied. She does look so fucking stunning all glammed up like this. It's a different kind beauty than the soft beauty you get to see everyday. It's big, it's grand, it lights up the room and doesn't let you look away.
It's just a couple of people, her friends, family, a couple of her group mates, but she wears the weight of being seen like a pro. The simile is weird, she is one. She's the best, takes the gravity out of a room, shatters the constitutions of anyone looking at her.
Especially yours. You're zipping the back of her dress up when her eyes find yours in the mirror.
Talk about weak Constitution, you stop what you're doing when you feel the weight of her gaze on you.
"So," she says.
"So," you repeat.
"This is it." She spins around, giving you a full view of her perfect face.
Your eyes are locked, unblinking. "What do you mean, this is it. We still have a whole party."
"Yeah, but, that's different. This is our last 'us' moment."
"I⌠I guess so."
She's so close you can feel her breath.
"We have to leave in⌠20 minutes?" she says, voice all high, missing the innocent intonation of a simple statement.
"Then I guess we better finish getting ready."
"Then why are you looking at my lips?" Remember before, when you said she always knows exactly what to say to drive you nuts? Yeah.
"I-I'm not."
Her hands climb up to your lapels as she leans closer, stands on her toes so that she's right in front of you.
"Hmm, okay. I must've been seeing things, then."
Your tongue is in her mouth as soon as the last breath of the sentence tickles your lips, and she's kissing back, because yeah, you were looking at those plump fucking lips, all glossed up for the world and you just wanna let the world know: these are my fucking lips.
You can tell that this is the idol, the version of her that can stand in front of thousands with a smile on her face, because she's so much more assertive. You're at her every whim; she pushes you against the wall, palms on your chest as you're lost in her lips.
"You love these lips, don't you?"
It's rhetorical, it doesn't need an answer. You do anyway, saying yes in moans and groans as she drops to her knees, puckering them just to argue the point.
She's still in that dress, hugging her figure snug.
She doesn't stop looking at you, gives her lips a little lick as she slides your pants down.
She grabs it. The sensation ripples through your body, and with a couple of pumps and a kiss on the tip, she takes it, still half flaccid into her portly lips.
"Shiânngh," you groan. It's indescribable, how hot it is. She always liked this, taking you before you were fully hard, said she liked the feeling of it growing in her mouth.
Of course, you're fully hard pretty soon. The groan that escapes her lips as your cock throbs in her mouth, you could listen to it all day. It's the best music she's ever produced, which is saying something given her discography.
Her lips are wrapped around your cock, tighter than the dress is her body, which she doesn't like, apparently. All slow and seductive, she glides her lips up your cock until it pops out of your mouth.
The dress you were helping her put on comes off, and she's just sitting there with only her panties. She's so fucking hot, how she loves to get on her knees and be your whore.
Her tongue comes out, opening wide, eyes needy when she says: "fuck my face, please".
Her hair is all done up and curled, better that way, you can get a better grip on it. She's moaning and gasping, begging you to stick your cock back in while you bunch her hair up, grabbing it.
Don't be fooled, she has you right where she wants you; this is still the Yunjin that has you at her every whim. It's all the more hot because this is exactly where she wants you, standing over her, fucking her face in the bathroom.
The suction does nothing to help your stability, her gags, the feeling of the back of her throat, the way her makeup she spent so much time on is smudged, it all leaves you woozy as you pound her throat.
She's taking you deep, so deep you can feel her sexy little throat convulse with every thrust, her eyes are a teary mess but she's looking at you with vigour, like if you stop and this whole things ends before you cum down her she'll leave for her tour and never come back.
The pressure in your pelvis wells up, and with an almighty thrust, hands full of her hair so her lips kiss your pelvis, you cum. Her eyes are closed shut as she stomachs the load, taking every last drop of it. It's in waves and waves, every time she swallows, convulses her sweet little throat it only draws more of your seed.
Only when every last drop of the stuff is in her stomach does she push against your legs, unburrowing your cock. She doesn't even stop there, your arms are dangling lifelessly at your side now, but she's still on her knees, grabbing your still swollen cock, licking up the underside, kissing the tip with these loving pecks, shifting it up so she can access your balls, sucking on them.
"Y-Yunjin, we should go. The party, it's about to starâ"
She cuts you off with just a look, and it says everything. She stands up, grabbing you by the arm, stepping over her discarded dress, dragging you to the bed.
You fall down on your back, and there's a conviction in her eye that you don't need to hear to interpret. You know what it means anyway, that I don't give a fuck about the party. I won't see you again for another 2 months and I need you now.
You're back at full mast now, because you realize it too, that you don't care about the party either, that you'd rather be here, fucked dry before she's gone again. She lines up on top of you, sliding her panties to the side.
You've been fucking all week, but it's equally as weighted. The connection, the weight, it shifts from I missed you so much, baby, to I'm gonna miss you so much, just stay a little longer.
You're whole, you're complete, you're full when she's bouncing on your cock, when her pussy clenches around you leaving you a writhing mess.
You've seen her hips move on stage, seen how it steals all the gravity in arena, and now you're experiencing it real time, how her wet pussy slides up on you, hugging you tightly in all the right places.
Her hands are roaming your now bare chest as yours rest on her hips. Her face is still a mess of make up and mascara and lust.
You start to buck up, match her pace when she tightens, cumming on your cock. Both your phones have been ringing in the distance, maybe you don't hear it over her screams, maybe you both ignore it, choosing this over everything, just for one more day.
You fuck her from the back, grunting and thrusting, cumming and cumming until the sheets are a mess of her juices, of your jizz.
You fuck her standing up, her back against your wardrobe as you buck into her and she's moaning into your lips, how she'll cum and cum and cum while she's away, fingering herself while thinking about today.
She fucks you while the sun sets, filling the room with its golden light, like your bed is the stage.
You fuck each other until you're both a haze of sweat and cum and saliva, heaping messes of lust, splayed out in the moonlight, gasping for breath but unable to stop holding each other.
You fuck each other until you're asleep.
You don't dream.
She's gone in the morning. She let you sleep this dreamless sleep, perfectly content. And now she's gone. There's no in between, no solace that exists between the pain of her being away and the blindness when she's here.
She's gone. Probably in a rush too. The bed feels so empty, even though its covered in her love. You can see through the peep in the washroom door that the vast amounts of skincare and makeup sit there, untouched. She'll buy more somewhere abroad.
You don't want to check your phone. She's probably on the plane right now, sleeping, recovering from the night you just had. She'll have to be up the next day for practice, shake off the rust accumulated over the week. You don't want to see if she's texted you, maybe some heartfelt thing about how she'll be back, how you'll both make it through this, or maybe your phone is desolate, maybe she's already reverted back to the limelight, focused on her job and nothing else.
The worst part is, either option would hurt just as much, and you can't be mad at her for any of it. It's her dream, it's her soul, it's distinctly her, Huh Yunjin, the girl you fell in love with.
But Huh Yunjin is gone, again.
It ends just like that, with no resolution, no long talk about what you need to do to make this work. It's easier than that, it's either she's here, or she's not.
And right now, she's not.
---
A/N: IDK WHY I MADE IT WAS ONLY A WEEK AGAIN. I DIDNT REALIZE UNTIL LIKE 10 MINUTES AGO THAT EVERYTINE I WRITE YUNJIN THEY ONLY HAVE A WEEK TOGETHER. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??????
"I don't WANT to hang out with Diana and Hanna! They're so weird and they keep meowing at people!"
Your sister's whining barely registers. You're entirely too busy ogling the picture Tzuyu sent you twenty minutes ago. Long legs spread just enough to show the fabric of her panties, one hand resting on her thigh.
Miss you baby <3
Your dick has been half-hard ever since.
"Are you even listening to me??"
"Nope."
You pinch the screen, zooming in on her thighs. God, you can still feel them locked around your head from last week. You had made a smartass comment and she'd locked your head between them and squeezed until you saw stars.
GOD it was worth it.
"You're the worstâ"
"You're going," you cut her off, putting your phone in your pocket as you two reach the front door. "Diana and Hanna are nice enough."
"They MEOW at people!"
"So? Nobody is perfect. I mean you're an annoying little shit soâŚ" You ring the doorbell before she can continue the argument. You genuinely couldn't care less about her complaints right now. Not when you know EXACTLY what's waiting for you on the other side of this door.
The door opens.
Aphrodite incarnate. A goddess coming to Earth. Chou Tzuyu is wearing a cream sweater that's stretched tight across her tits, and yoga pants that should be illegal. Her hair is up in a loose ponytail, with a few strands framing her gorgeous face. And she has the most sweet, most motherly smile on her face.
Anyone who hasn't seen her with lips stretched around a cock would fall for that image in a heart beat.
You, of course, know better.
"Oh you're here!" She gushes the cookie-cutter host greeting. "The girls are so excitedâDiana! Hanna! Your friend is here!"
From deeper in the house you hear a faint "Mrow!"
Your sister visibly cringes. Even poor Tzuyu's bright smile falters slightly before she recovers.
"They're⌠going through a phase," Tzuyu explains weakly, stepping aside. Your sister sulks past like she's heading to her own execution, shooting you a venomous glare as she goes.
The second she's out of sight, Tzuyu's hand brushes yours.
"Coffee?" She asks, entirely too loudly for the empty hallway you're standing in, but her eyes are screaming a very different request. Something close to I need you to fuck me until I forget my own name.
"Yeah. Coffee sounds great."
"Perfect." The way she draws the word out, followed by her dragging her tongue across her lips, should damn well be considered foreplay.
From what you assume is the playroom, your sister's defeated sigh carries over to where you're standing, followed by synchronized meowing.
You purse your lips to contain your laughter as Tzuyu turns to the wall, tapping her forehead against it softly.
"Not. A fucking. Word." She murmurs.
You make a zipping motion across your mouth.
Tzuyu leads you to the kitchen. Those yoga pants hug the curve of her ass, outlining the thick thighs you've had the pleasure of being trapped between more times than you can count.
You're already plotting all the possible ways to get between them again today.
She pours two cups of coffee that you both know neither of you will touch. Her husband is at work as usual. The man is practically married to his job, which means Tzuyu is perpetually horny.
Not that you're complaining, of course.
"So," she starts, leaning against the counter in a way that makes her tits press together, "I was thinkingâ"
"Bedroom?"
Fuck the small talk. You both know why you're here, why bother with the bullshit game of cat and mouse?
Her expression changes instantly, that sweet, motherly mask cracking.
"Eager today, are we?"
"You sent me that photo during my lecture." You move toward her. "I've been hard thinking about those thick fucking thighs of yours the entire way over here."
She bites her lip, grabbing your shirt and pulling you close. "My bedroom. Now."
No need to say that twice.
"So impatient," you tease, but in no way shape or form are you complaining as she takes your hand and leads you out of the kitchen.
The stairs feel endless. Tzuyu keeps glancing back at you, tugging her bottom lip with her teeth, and you're becoming very tempted to say fuck it and rail her against the wall halfway up.
But the bedroom is probably smarter. And it has plenty of pillows for you to press her face into, which is a great bonus.
The second you're through the door, she's on you. Mouth crashing into yours, her hands pulling at your clothes, backing you towards the bed. You let her push you down onto the mattress, watching her stand over you, chest heaving.
Damn she's beautiful.
She climbs onto the bed, straddles your hips, grinds down against the bulge in your jeans. "You have no idea how badly I need this."
"Why don't you show me then?"
She doesn't bother answering with words.
Her hands find the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. You do your best to help, shrugging out of it. The second it's off she runs her hands down your chest, nails dragging lightly over your skin.
You reach for her sweater but she swats your hands away. "Patience."
"That's not my strong suit and you know it." You pout.
"I know." She grinds down harder, and you can feel the heat spreading through both layers of fabric. "That's why this is fun."
She leans down, mouth finding your neck. Kisses turn into bites, her teeth scraping against your skin. Your hands busy themselves by gripping her hips, fingers digging into the yoga pants.
"God I missed you," she murmurs against your throat. "Missed this."
"It's only been like three days."
"Exactly, three days too long." Her hands move to your jeans, popping the button. "I've been going crazy waiting."
The zipper comes down and she's working your jeans off, and you lift your hips to help. Once they're gone she sits back, taking in the sight of you in only your boxers, your cock straining against the fabric.
"Look at you," she purrs, palming you through the thin material as you hiss. "So hard already."
"Your fault," you manage.
"I know." The smirk on her face grows. "I'm very good at what I do."
She is. Too good, sometimes. You watch her lean down, hair falling around her face, and just before her mouth reaches your cockâ
"Meow," you say.
She freezes.
Sits back up slowly.
The look on her face is full of murderous intent.
"What," she starts, voice barely a whisper, "did you just say?"
"Iâ" you start, but you're already laughing because the look on her face is just priceless. "I couldn't help it, the girlsâ"
"You think that's funny huh?"
Before you can react, she moves. Her hands shove against your chest, and she uses her weight to pin you down as those deadly thighs slide up on either side of your head.
Ah fuck.
"Oh, Tzu waitâ"
Too late. They're locked around your skull.
The pressure is both immediate and immaculate. Warm, smooth skin pressing against your head, cutting off everything except the sight of her yoga pants stretched tight across her pussy right in front of your face. It's easy to see the damp spot forming.
Your hands fly to her thighs on instinct, gripping the firm muscle underneath.
"Think you're funny?" She squeezes harder. Stars dance at the edges of your vision. "Meowing at me in my own bedroom?"
You try to respond but what comes out is muffled against her skin.
"That's what I thought." She grinds forward, dragging the warm, damp fabric across your face, and you groan into her.
She's appears to be trying to suffocate you. Not that your dick has any complaints.
"Nothing to say now?" Another squeeze. Your vision starts going fuzzy. "No more stupid jokes?"
Your fingers dig into her thighs and you manage to turn your head just enough to press your mouth against her inner thigh.
She shudders and the grip loosens ever so slightly.
You drag your tongue along the inside of her thigh, and she makes a choked sound that manages to make your already rock-hard cock even harder.
"You're such a brat," she breathes, but there's no real anger anymore.
You hook your fingers into the waistband of those damn yoga pants and pull. She lifts her hips just enough to let you drag them down along with her panties, and finally, FINALLY, that pretty pussy is revealed to your gaze.
Beautiful.
Her pussy is bare, inches away from your face. It's glistening and swollen, her clit already peeking out.
"You going to suffocate me before I can eat this pussy?" Your voice comes out rough.
"Afterwards," she decides, lowering herself back onto your mouth.
The first taste of her makes you groan into her pussy. She's absolutely soaked, and you waste no time before getting to work, licking broad strokes through her folds before placing special focus on her clit.
Her thighs tighten around your head.
"Fuckâright thereâ"
You circle her clit with your tongue, then suck it between your lips. Her whole body jerks violently above you,
"Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stopâ"
Yeah. Like you had any fucking intention of doing that.
You double down, sucking her clit even harder, your tongue working in tight circles. You can barely breathe with her thighs clamping your head like a vice, but god the way she's gasping above you makes it all worthwhile.
"Fuck, fuck, just like thatâ" Her hips start rolling, grinding her pussy against your mouth. She's chasing her orgasm, using you, and your cock is throbbing so fucking hard in your boxers its borderline painful.
You slide your tongue down, pushing it into her entrance. Her soaked pussy drips down your chin, the sweet taste of it making you drool. Your hands grip her ass harder, kneading as you pull her down onto your face.
"Oh god, oh fuckâ" Her voice pitches higher. She's close, you can feel it. Her thighs shake, her pussy clenching around your tongue.
You pull back just enough to suck her clit between your lips again, and that does it.
Tzuyu cums with a loud cry, her whole body going rigid above you. Her thighs lock around your head so tight you can see the pearly gates, and her pussy pulses against your mouth dragging you straight back down into hell. You keep licking, keep sucking, drawing out her orgasm as long as you can while she shakes and gasps.
"Stop, stop, too muchâ" She's trying to lift her hips but you won't let her go that easily. You give her clit one more slow lick and she shudders, a choked whimper escaping her throat.
Finally she manages to pull away, swinging her leg over your head. She collapses beside you on the bed, her face flushed.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your entire lower face is covered in her.
"You're evil," she pants, throwing an arm over her eyes.
"You literally tried to suffocate me like 2 minutes ago, babe."
"You meowed at me."
"Fair."
She turns to look at you, and even post orgasm with her makeup ruined and her hair fucked up beyond all recognition, she's unfairly beautiful. Then her eyes slowly travel down your body to the tent in your boxers.
"Mm," she says, breathlessly, "That looks uncomfortable ."
"Yeah, no shit."
Her hand reaches over, palming you through the fabric. You hiss at the contact. "Aw, poor baby. You want me to do something about that?"
"I think you know damn well what I'm going to say to that."
She smirks, energy already back. Her stamina is fucking insane. "I don't know, maybe I should just leave you like this. Payback for the meowing. And you look so cute all desperate and worked up for me."
"Tzuyuâ"
"I'm kidding." She sits up, grabbing the hem of her sweater. "Besides, I need you to fuck me. Right fucking now."
She pulls the sweater over her head and chucks it somewhere behind her.
No bra.
Of course there's no bra.
Her tits are perfect, full and perky in a way that seems to defy the very laws of physics.
You're staring. You know you're staring. She knows you're staring.
"See something you like?" She shimmies a little, a cocky little smirk on her face.
You consciously pick your jaw up off the floor before responding. "You know I do."
She leans down, kissing you hard. She can absolutely taste herself on your tongue, but she doesn't seem to give a singular fuck, licking into your mouth like she's trying to scrape every last drop out. When she pulls back you're both breathing hard.
Her hands go to your boxers, yanking them down. Your cock springs free and she wraps her hand around it, stroking slowly.
"God, you're so hard." She squeezes and you groan. "All for me?"
"Who else would it be for? Your husband?"
She smacks your chest. "Don't talk about my husband while I'm holding your dick."
"You brought him up last week whenâ"
"That was different." She cuts you off with another stroke, thumb swiping over the head of your cock. She spreads the leaking precum around, using it as lube.
"How was that different?" You grunt.
"Because I was winning that argument."
"You're always winning arguments when you have your hand on my cock. It's basically cheating."
"Pretty smart strategy though, isn't it?" She strokes you again, slow and torturous. "Keeps you from saying stupid shit."
"No I'm pretty sure I can still say some stupid shâ" Your thoughts scatter when she squeezes again. "Fuck, Tzuyu."
"That's what I thought, baby."
She lets go of your cock and you have to choke back a frankly embarrassing whine, but then she's moving. Swinging her leg over your hips, straddling you again. Her bare pussy presses against your shaft, the heat making you throb.
"I," She grinds down, sliding her wet pussy along your length, "Am going to ride you until you can't remember your own fucking name. Sound good?"
"Sounds fucking perfect."
She lifts her hips, reaching down to line you up. The head of your cock presses against her entrance. She's so wet you could slide in with ease, but she takes her time, lowering herself inch by torturous inch.
She's so, so fucking tight. It doesn't matter how many times you fuck her, it always feels like the first. Her pussy grips your cock like it was made for it, lips clinging to it like it's trying to suck you inwards.
"Fuck," she breathes, sinking down until you're buried completely inside her. She sits there for a moment, hands braced on your chest. "You feel so good."
"This is great. You do all the work and I just get to enjoy."
"Not for long." She rolls her hips, grinding on your cock, and you both groan. "Just let me enjoy this for a second."
"Take your time. I've got an amazing view."
And you do. Her tits right in front of your face, abs flexing as she shifts, those thick thighs spread on either side of you. Your hands find those thighs, gripping the firm muscle.
"Obsessed," she teases.
"Yeah, like any warm-blooded male wouldn't be."
She lifts up slowly, almost, almost letting the head slip out, then slams back down. You both moan at the sensation.
"Fuck, Tzuyuâ"
"What's wrong baby?" She lifts up again, slow as can be, then drops back down hard. The slap of skin echoes through the bedroom. "Can't handle me?"
"I can handle plenty. You're justâfuckâ."
She does it again, rising up until just the tip of your cock is inside her, then slamming down. Her tits bounce with the impact and you can't help but stare, mesmerized.
"Just what?" She teases breathlessly.
"Being a fucking tease."
"Oh, baby," she leans down nipping at your ear, "you haven't seen half of it."
Then she really starts moving.
Her hips roll in a steady pattern, rising and falling on your cock. Every time she drops down, you can feel her pussy clench around you. The sounds filling the room are obscene. The slick noise of her pussy taking your cock over and over, her moans, your groans.
Your hands move from her thighs to her hips, gripping hard enough to bruise. You help guide her movements, pulling her down a little harder each time.
"Yes, yes just like thatâ" Her nails scratch into your chest. It stings like hell but you frankly don't give a shit. "Your cock feels so fucking good."
"You're so tight," you manage. Coherent thought is becoming difficult. "So fucking wet for me."
"Alwaysâoh fuckâalways wet for you."
She's riding you faster now, chasing her own pleasure. Sweat forms on her skin, a drop rolling down between her breasts. You want nothing more than to lick it off but she's moving too fast for you to reach.
The bed is creaking under you. Somewhere in the back of your mind you remember the girls are downstairs but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when Tzuyu looks like this, head thrown back, mouth open, riding your cock like her life depends on it.
"Touch me," she gasps. "Play with my tits."
You don't need to be told twice. Your hands leave her hips to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples. She moans, loud and shameless.
"Harder."
You pinch her nipples and she clenches around your cock so tight you nearly cum right there.
"Fuck, do that againâ"
You oblige, rolling the stiff peaks between your fingers. Her pussy floods with wetness, dripping down your cock to your balls warm and slick.
"I'm close," she whimpers. Her rhythm is getting sloppy, desperate. "So fucking closeâ"
"Yeah? You gonna cum on my cock?"
"Yes, yes, fuck yesâ"
You thrust up to meet her, matching her pace, the angle making her cry out.
"Right there, oh god right thereâ"
You do it again, driving up into her. Her whole body shudders.
"Don't stop, please don't fucking stopâ"
Like you could stop now even if you wanted to. You're getting close too, that familiar feeling building at the base of your spine. But you want her to cum first. Want to feel her pussy spasm and clench around you.
You sit up suddenly, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady. The position change makes her gasp. You can get deeper like this, and it finally allows you to capture one of those perfect nipples in your mouth.
"Oh fuckâ" Her hands tangle in your hair, holding you against her chest. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonnaâ"
You suck hard on her nipple and thrust up at the same time.
She cums with a scream, her pussy clamping down on your cock. You can feel her pulsing, gushing wetness soaking you both.
You slow your movements, letting her ride it out. Her forehead drops to your shoulder.
"Holy shit," she pants against your neck.
You're still rock hard inside her. Throbbing.
She notices with visible interest, clenching around you once to hear you grunt.
"Your turn," she breathes, pulling back to look at you with heavy lidded eyes.
You flip her.
One moment she's on top of you, the next she's on her back with you between her legs. She lets out a surprised laugh.
"Someone's eager."
"You got to cum. My turn."
You hook her legs over your shoulders, pushing them back toward her chest. The position makes her gasp, spreads her wide open for you. Those thighs press against your face and shoulders, warm and soft and absolutely perfect.
"Fuck, I love these thighs," you mutter, turning your head to kiss the inside of one.
"I'm aware." She's still breathless. "You never shut up about them."
"Can you blame me?"
You don't wait for an answer. You thrust into her, burying yourself deep. She's so wet from her orgasm that you slide in easily, and the sound she makes goes directly to your cock.
"Oh fuckâ"
You set a hard pace immediately. Fucking her into the mattress while her thighs frame your head like a goddamn work of art.
"Yes, yes, harderâ" Her hands grip the sheets. "Fuck me harderâ"
You oblige. Each thrust makes her tits bounce, makes the bed creak louder. She's so tight around you it's almost painful, her pussy still sensitive from cumming.
"You feel so fucking good," you grunt, squeezing her thighs. Your fingers dig into the soft flesh.
"Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stopâ"
You can feel your orgasm building. That pressure at the base of your spine getting harder and harder to push off. You're close. Too close.
You slow down.
"Whatâno, why are youâ" Tzuyu looks up at you with desperation in her eyes.
"Just pacing myself." You roll your hips slowly, grinding deep instead of thrusting.
"I was getting close again," she whines.
"I know."
"You're such an asshole."
"You love it."
She does. You can tell by the way she's clenching around you, by that pout on her lips.
You pick up the pace again, just enough to make her moan. Your hands slide along her thighs, feeling the muscle flex as she tries to pull you deeper.
"Please," she gasps. "I needâfuckâI need you to fuck me properly."
"This isn't proper?"
"You know what I meanâ"
You thrust hard, once, and she nearly sobs.
"Like that?"
"Yes! Just like that, pleaseâ"
You do it again. Then stop. Her pussy clenches around you in frustration.
"I hate you," she pants.
"No you don't."
"I'm going to kill you."
"With these thighs, I hope." You kiss her inner thigh again, scraping your teeth against the skin. She shudders.
"You're obsessed."
"Yep."
You start moving again, finding a rhythm that's just enough to keep you both on edge. Not enough to push either of you over. Her legs are shaking around your head, her pussy dripping down onto the sheets.
"Please," Tzuyu begs. The sound of her begging does something to you. "Please, I'm so closeâ"
"Not yet."
"I'm going to fuckingâ"
You thrust deep and grind against her, cutting off whatever threat she was about to make. She just moans instead, nails scratching desperately at your arms.
You're playing with fire. You know if you keep this up much longer you won't be able to hold back.
"I need to cum," you grunt. "Fuck, Tzuyu, I need to cum."
"Then cum." She pulls you down, her legs unwrapping from your shoulders to lock around your waist instead. "Cum inside me. Fill me up."
You drop down, bracing yourself on your forearms on either side of her head. You slide deeper.
"I'm close too," she whimpers. "So fucking close."
You kiss her hard. Your hips move on autopilot now, chasing the release you've been craving. The wet slap of your bodies fills the room, mixing with her moans and your grunts.
"Together," she gasps against your mouth. "Cum with me, pleaseâ"
Her pussy tightens around you. You can feel her getting close, that little flutter.
"Fuck, Tzuyuâ"
"I'm gonnaâoh god I'm gonnaâ"
It hits you both at the same time. You groan as your cock pulses inside her, pumping her full of cum, and you can feel her pussy clenching and spasming around you, milking every drop.
And because you're apparently an idiot with approximately zero self preservationâ
"Meow," you moan into her ear.
For a second she's too lost in her orgasm to process it. Her body is still shaking, pussy still pulsing around your cock. You're both riding out the aftershocks, your cum leaking out around your cock because there's just too much.
Then she goes very, very still.
You're still buried inside her. Still trying to catch your breath. Your brain is fuzzy from the orgasm, a dopey smile plastered on your face.
Tzuyu's hands grip your shoulders. Tight.
She slowly, deliberately, pushes you off of her. You slip out with a wet sound, cum immediately spilling out of her onto the sheets. She sits up, and the look on her face makes your survival instincts finally kick in.
"Did youâ" Her voice is dangerously quiet. "Did you just fucking meow while you were cumming inside me?"
Oh you're in trouble.
"Iâ"
"Did you?"
Your brain scrambles for something, anything that might save you.
"...meow?" you offer weakly.
Her eye twitches.
"You're dead."
"Waitâ"
Too late. She's on you in a second, tackling you back onto the bed. Those deadly thighs wrap around your head again and this time there's no mercy. She's actually trying to kill you.
You try to answer but your face is pressed directly against her cum-filled pussy, your own load dripping onto your face. You're suffocating in the mess you made and honestly? You can't even complain.
Your hands tap frantically against her thighs but she ignores it.
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
She loosens just enough for you to gasp out, "Worth it?"
That is, apparently, the wrong answer.
The thighs clamp back down with a vengeance. You're genuinely seeing the light now. Your vision is going dark at the edges.
But god, what a way to go.
Just when you think you might actually pass out, she releases you. You gasp for air, coughing.
Tzuyu looks down at you with a satisfied smirk. Your face is covered in cum, hers and yours mixed together. You probably look absolutely destroyed.
"You're lucky you're cute," she says.
"Does this mean I'm forgiven?"
"Absolutely not." She climbs off you, stretching. "But I'll let you live. For now."
"Shame. Death by thighs is actually a bucket list item of mine."
"Can you go 20 fucking seconds without saying something stupid or mentioning my thighs?"
"âŚno."
~~~
Hi all! If you haven't already heard, most of the writers on this platform have switched to FanProse. I'm a lot more active on there for sure! But, to be fair, I also took a bit of a break from writing to deal with some life shit. I'm trying to ease back into this, but I have two commissions and a new series to work on, so hopefully it won't be another two months this time!!
It's raining again. Not a light drizzle, but a steady, torrential downpour, and there's one person to blameâyou know this. The fact that you're having to get up from your comfy chair, put your mug down on the table and walk the several paces over to the front door because she, once again, is at it.
You find it surprising how whenever it rains, the moment that thunder echoes across the city, there's an almost frantic knock that follows. And of course, once you finally open it, the culprit is right there on the other side.
Ning Yizhuo. Your annoying, meddling, definitely too-involved, overly-attached-and-obsessed, whatever the fuck you wanna call the relationship you share with the girl. You'd call her an ex, but you never officially ended anything. Even with an ocean between the two of you, she'd still find a way, at some point or another, to show up at the doorstep in the middle of the night,
So you sigh at her presenceâyet, not because you hate seeing her. No, quite the opposite. It's only out of some kind of spite that you keep her waiting, lingering there outside your house in the rain. Like this is the universe punishing you for past transgressions.
Against your better judgment, you open the door, checking if the doorknob is hot first.
There she stands, looking too attractive in all black, thin stockings, torn somehow, a way too tight skirt hugging her waist. Low cut top, visible through a dark coat, with far too much cleavage to defend against.
And somehow, nothing looks out of placeâdespite having no other option but to brave the rain to see you.
"Is this your doing, I assume?"
The expression on her face drops from hopeful to annoyance in mere seconds. Ningning rolls her eyes and takes a step forward. You take a step back.
"What, the sky? Please, not even I can control the weather."
"Then why do you always show up whenever there's a storm?"
She pauses, folding her arms. "Call it a coincidence. Now, aren't you gonna invite me inside?"
You hesitate as the storm begins to worsen. Not only the rain but the booming thunder and lightning that chases it, so bad that the entire street lights up. In all honesty, you know that you don't really have another choice. It's not like she'll physically enter the house if you don't allow it, yet she's just insufferable enough to camp in the driveway until the sun comes out.
"Do you even get wet, Ning? You're practically standing in a monsoon out there, and not a spot on you."
"Depends if your pants are still on or not," she fires back, that wicked smile always wide and ready to strike.
You've made worse mistakes than this, you supposeâeven though a little voice at the back of your mind urges otherwise.
"Come inside," you say, already regretting the words the moment they leave your lips, gesturing to the open door.
Ningning can't help but smirk. "If things go right tonight, that's what I'll be telling you later, baby."
And just like that, she moves past the doorframe into your placeâheading inside like she owns the place.
There's no point in pretending that this isn't an impromptu visit from your not-ex. She kicks her heels off, hanging her coat on the rack beside the door and making you wonder just how many times Ningning has shown up completely dry in the midst of pouring rain.
"So, what did I interrupt that was so important that you took forever to open the door?" Ningning asks, standing around as if she didn't show up uninvited, as if you're expected to drop to your knees just because she's arrived.
"Enjoying the peace, Ning, that's what. It's late," you reply, feeling an incoming headache at having to deal with her. "Maybe if you sent a warningâ"
She ignores everything. Stares as you sit back down on the couch, your tea more than a little cold now. "Typical."
You roll your eyes, fighting not to pick an argument while she surveys the place. "Typical what?"
She ignores you again. Somehow unbothered and distant, focused entirely elsewhereâjust as if nothing has happened between the two of you. The absolute gall, she has.
"Well, I'm glad you're up at this hour. Even better you're alone."
Now you're the one ignoring her, leaning back down on the couch to finish the last sips of tea, a nagging feeling brewing the pit of your stomachâbecause there's only ever one reason why she shows up late at night, and it's not to chat over tea.
Much to your chagrin, Ningning looks directly at you, but she moves closeâvery close, until there's a dangerous look in her eyes while she smiles. "Have you eaten yet?
"A bit, but not reallyâ"
Ningning shakes her head, taunting with a feigned annoyance at your response. "How is it you never have food in this damn house?"
"Don't get hungry often enough, I guess," you say, fighting to keep your eyes off of her outfit.
She nods in response, crossing her arms. "I see. Well thenâ"
The storm rages on outside the living room window, but your focus is stolen entirely away as Ningning approaches, positioning herself in a spot right in front of your line of sight, as if to distract. Not that it's a hard thing to do. Not when she's wearing a tiny little thing she calls a skirt, stockings that do her legs far too much of a favor, and a top that struggles to contain much of anything.
"Yes, Ning?"
There's a moment that passes by where Ningning stares long enough that you're uncomfortable, long enough to where you feel as if the moment can shatter at any second.
"Look, before I say anything else," she begins, still standing in place as those eyes stay locked on you. "Had to take the train here. Nothing was fucking available. Then a taxiâsince you had to live out in bumfuck nowhere. I'm tired, and soreâI'm absolutely starving. Not for food, obviously."
"Obviously," you repeat, hardly in shock with her direct nature. She's hardly ever subtle. "Then take what you need. Don't have to ask twice."
Her lips curl up. "Thanks, sweetie. Knew there was a reason why I liked you."
Without anything further, Ningning is quickâfar too quick for your liking while she climbs atop, legs on either side, straddling youâclose enough so you can feel the heat on your skin. You sit idly by and soak it all in.
"This'll hurt just a little bitâ" she says, before her lips press deep so she can pepper several kisses along the side of your neck. "Just keep still. I'll be quick."
"Don't be."
You don't even register the words that come out of your mouth, not fully, at least. Ningning smirks, running her fingers through your hair, smiling in satisfaction that you've somehow fallen into her trap yet again.
"Darling, I will tear you apart if you let me have my way."
You'd damn near let her.
Ningning's not the type to wait around, tilting her head back so she can bare her glistening fangs, primed and ready to devour you whole in the process. They sink in at the crook of your neck, piercing the skin with easeâalmost at the exact same spot you remember from the last time.
Sharp pain shoots through your body in a matter of seconds, as blood flows out without pause, succumbing to her hunger, letting Ningning takes what she pleases. You hiss at the sensationâa strange mixture of pleasure and pain, not sure which is winning out, only able to watch her drain you, eyes locked in an almost sinister trance while she feeds.
Then, just like that, Ningning pulls her head back, lips stained with a crimson red that she wipes off with the back of her hand. She looks more vibrant, aliveâeyes that pierce deep, more than satisfied for the night.
"Thanks, love. That's enough," she replies softly, running her fingers over the bite mark before planting a little kiss on your cheek. "Took a little more than usual. Hope you don't mind."
You laugh, looking up, lost in her gaze. "What am I gonna do, Ning, take it back? Don't worry."
"That'd be very inconvenient," Ningning says, smiling at that. "You should rest a bit, yeah? How do you feel?"
You shrug. "I'll manage. Little dizzy, but I'll survive."
"Because you have nothing to eat in this shithole. You sure you're good?"
You nod, smile returning to your face as you glance up. "Yeah, of course. Nothing I haven't handled before."
"Good." Those devilish fangs fully on display linger for one more moment until they retract. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little disappointed.
"So, is this the part where you tell me why you showed up at midnight, wearing next to nothing?"
Ningning presses her body close, offering just enough cleavage for your eyes to wander. "Like it's a surprise I'm here."
You say nothing, and somehow, that's the one thing that actually bothers her a bit. Ningning rises, turning away, more annoyed than offendedâa bit different than her usual arrogant nature. "Haven't seen you in a few months. Didn't think I needed an invitation."
"And maybe there's a reason for that."
Surprisingly, Ningning says nothing else for a fleeting moment. Laughing in spite of it all. "Wow. Is there another vampire bitch here giving you what I can't? Because last time I checkedâ"
"Of course not," you answer immediately, ignoring the tone in her voice.
"Good. Like I was saying, nobody fucks you like I do, and I don't think there's anyone else out there that can."
You sigh, attempting not to feed that overzealous ego even more. "Ningâ"
"Don't Ning me," she snaps, the fangs exposed again, retracting within seconds. "You should be so damn grateful that I'm here right now."
"For what, so you can have a midnight snack?"
Ningning ignores that entirely, moving quickly to straddle you once more, wrapping a set of slender, ice cold fingers around your neck.
Her eyes burn into you, and you're too powerless to look away. "Say it. Say I fuck you the best. I won't leave. Not until you say it."
You ponder whether or not to comply, the air leaving your body bit by bit. Ningning squeezes just the right amountâjust enough to leave you wanting more, leaving an ache between your legs.
"You're unbelievable."
"In bed, yeah, I am, aren't I?" she purrs, bringing her lips to yours, crashing them into you, hard. You kiss back, already done with resisting, because like it or notâyou need Ning as much as she needs you.
"If you didn't look so sexy right nowâ"
Ningning cuts off the thought, shoving her tongue down your mouth to silence you. "When do I not? You've seen me at every point possible, at every hour, dressed up, down. Sexy is just the norm for me."
"Always so fucking cocky," you mutter under your breath, diving back in for another taste.
"It's not cocky, it's just the truth," Ningning says, sliding off your lap so she can lower to her knees before you. "Let me prove how accurate that statement is. Let's get these pants offâŚ"
You're far too weak to say no, and not because of the blood loss. One swift movement from Ningning, and she has her fingers hooked at the waistband of your pants.
"May I?"
So polite. With a nod, she tugs them down, just far enough for what she has planned, revealing your boxers that aren't doing a very good job at hiding how aroused you are.
"Mmm, yeah," Ningning purrs, satisfied at what she sees as she begins to palm you over the fabric. "Was kinda worried, but got plenty of blood pumping here..."
There's only one thing left, to let Ningning do whatever she pleases, shove your boxers down so your cock can spring out, the tip practically oozing already.
 "All this for me? Gonna milk you dry tonight."
Again, there are no words that come from you, not a single thing outside a gasp. You try and keep your focus on Ningning herselfâon that depraved stare when she strokes you. And she gets right down to business, pressing her tongue against the underside of your cock, flicking it a few times before taking a long drag down.
"I really missed this, baby," Ningning admits, planting several teasing kisses from base to tip, giving such satisfying strokes that make your stiff shaft leak.
You barely catch what she's sayingâtoo focused on her touch, one that you haven't felt in far too long, by the person that knows you best. The heat from her mouth as her kisses linger along each and every inch, every vein that her hand travels down, familiarizing herself once more.
"Missed this inside my pussy, feeling how deep you fill me. Missed sucking it, missing making you cum just from this," she murmurs, staring up through those long eyelashes at you while she presses those full lips around your sensitive head, peppering it with affectionate kisses.
You simply moan, unable to get anything else out with her wet tongue swirling all over the head, savoring the taste.
"You missed me too, didn't you?"I know you did. That's why you won't push me away, or kick me out. That's why you won't ever tell me to stop."
Before you have a moment to breathe, Ningning wraps her lips around the head of your cock, trapping it in warmth, sinking down slowly. You can't hold what comes next, another loud moan that escapes as she gives a pleased hum in response, fondling your balls while her head bobs between your legs.
"Ningâ"
She descends again, satisfied with that. And keeps at itânever fully down, never allowing her throat to be too full. Just slow, steady suction and delicious warmth while her tongue teases all over, sliding along base to tip, and back down, using all her tricks to draw your bliss out.
"This beautiful cock, fuck, missed the way you taste. The way you throb, how sexy you sound when you moan, mm," Ningning says, pausing just to run her tongue down every last throbbing inch. "And so, so fucking big. Mine. All mine."
Her head lowers, so sloppy and desperate, popping off just to spit on your stiff cock, spreading it all over before that heat envelops your shaft once more. All you can do is stare, every bob of her head drawing you closer to the back of her throat, a sight far too beautiful not to watch.
"God, Ning. Your fucking mouthâŚ"
"Feels amazing, right? Nobody can make you feel this good. Nobody takes care of you like I do, baby? "
Ningning's rightâof course, she's right, just like she always is, and you couldn't fight her words even if you wanted to. Because those lips know what they're doingâknow how to please you, how to make you groan so pathetically, like her mouth was made just for your cock.
"I could suck your dick all day."
And you'd let her. Let Ningning take everything she wants and more. Everything feels too goodâeach flick, each slurp, the heat of her mouthâeverything is taking you away, especially when she holds your gaze, until she finally swallows you whole in one fluid motion, nose pressed to your stomach as her lips seal tight.
"Fucking hellâ"
It's almost a mistake to watch, to watch how her lips slide to the base and back down, this constant urge to please as her throat fills with every inch, tongue out with every stroke. The wetness that covers your shaft with every pass, mouth engulfing you, and all you can do is grab the back of her head, not to guide, not to control, but to simply indulge.
"Feels so fucking good, shit, nobody can do what you do, Ning."
She just stays still, eyes wide, appreciative at your words with her hands caressing your thighs, hardly any strain on her expression to have your entire aching cock buried in her throat.
"The best part is watching you lose yourself," she murmurs, popping off as saliva connects to your tip, breaking that connection so shes can stroke your the spit-covered shaft. "Lucky for you, I have no use for breathing, so I can have that big fucking cock just where it needs to be.
You're practically trembling, so close already it won't be difficult for Ningning to finish you off. That devious look she gives when reaching down to pull up her tight skirt without her lips leaving you. And it takes all you have not to lose it once you realize she has absolutely nothing underneath, her pretty, wet cunt for your viewing pleasure.
"It's a good thing you had an appetite," she says, shifting position just enough so you can see her fingers rub at her bare pussy. "Because my cunt is about ready to devour you."
Ningning says that as she picks up the pace, one finger between her legs, other hand resting on your thighâbobbing her head at a frantic rate, taking you down and back up like nothing, not a single gag or struggle. You can't do much more than moan and stare, mouth parted and helpless, balls so tense the longer she keeps going, until Ning mercifully pops her lips from your throbbing cock.
"Thinking about how bad I want to ride you, baby. Or maybe you should have me bend overâfill me from behind and slap my ass as you give it to me. Or get all sprawled out, wrap my legs around you so you can't pull out, pound me while I scream how bad I need you. Lots of options for you to ravage my pussy, isn't there?"
The room is practically silent except for the sloppy, hungry sounds of Ningning awaiting your response, bobbing up and down your cock, tongue gliding flicking along every wet inch.
"Upstairs," you say, all out of breathâand it's all she needs to hear.
Ningning swallows you one more time, leaving a wet kiss on your swollen tip once she pulls off, ignoring your body's pleas to stay.
"Well then, lead the way my cute little fangbangerâbut do be careful, I did just drain you."
In more ways than one, that's for sure.
There's a surge in motivation as you begin the trek up the stairs, Ningning close behind. Every footstep up the stairs, each thud echoes, like a countdown to your fate that awaits. You can only think of what's about to happen, the way she will take your body, and the sinful things you're going to do to her own in turn, nothing holding either of you back.
Once you arrive at the foot of your bed, Ningning is quick to shove you back with surprising force, giggling as she watches your weakened frame stumble back and land. She steps away, positioning herself close to the window, so you can see everything illuminated in the moonlight.
Ningning is unreal. Her ethereal beauty too much to handle as she undresses, her complexion glowing, that pale skin more beautiful than anything else. Those painted nails that have dug into your flesh almost as much as her sharp fangs, and your thoughts wander, watching each piece fall until a pile of her clothes lingers on underneath her bare feet.
You nearly faint once she's fully naked and turns to face you.
Every delicious curve for your eyes only, you feast on that naked skin, those pretty nipples, hardened by the cool air, those hips, luscious legsâevery single inch of her more than overwhelming you. The silhouette of her body can't compare to the real thing once she closes the distance, climbing your lap in record time, hovering dangerously close to your erection.
"Been a while since you last fucked a vampire," Ningning teases, the heat of her cunt teasing the tip of your cock.
"And just whose fault is that?"
Ningning glares, spreading her wetness over the head and doing little else. "Now you're blaming me? When you made it so difficult just for me to see you?"
Before she drops her hips, Ningning allows her fangs to extend again, almost a reminder of her advantage over you. She's grazing over your chest, not using the full force just yet, merely playing with you. Little lovebites left scattered over her favorite parts of you, as if you won't remember the deep ones on your neck from earlier.
"Fucking love you like thisâvulnerable, compliant, all fucking mine," Ningning purrs, catching her breath in between bites. "Bet you'd let me do anything to you tonight."
"I'd let you do anything you want anytime," you admit, realizing what comes from that statement.
She smirks at that, at your sudden honestly. Her tongue swipes the side of your face before trailing the shell of your ear, sucking on the soft flesh of your lobe. "Aren't I the lucky one, then?"
Without anything further, Ningning continues her path of destruction, trailing kisses and licks down your body. Like she's for the right moment to strike, or at god knows what else she has planned. Her lips catch a nipple, giving a few swirls that don't allow the pleasure you need, kissing down your abdomen and grazing the flesh with those fangsâthose sharp things coming dangerously close, the thought of them puncturing the skin sending an orgasmic mixture of fear and arousal.
"Don't be nervous, baby," Ningning murmurs, lips tracing lower, planting kisses right below your navel that make you gasp. "Would never hurt you or do without warning. Well, without prior permission."
There's no time to give a snarky reply, nothing witty coming from your mouth as she looks at your skin she's made so sensitive, appreciating her work.
"Not nervous, Ning."
"Oh? Then I might wanna let you do what you want for a change," she murmurs into your skin. Ningning's lips hover right above your inner thighs, her hot breath enough to make you flinch, the anticipation of the bite, the delicate tease making every muscle tense up.
"You'll let me?"
Ningning laughs at your question, tongue dancing from where she left off. "Yeah, I'm giving you a freebie tonight. Have your way with me, darling."
It's a hard bargainâyou don't trust her intentions, but there's no time for negotiation.
You lift her off with little effort, almost as if your strength returns without warning. Ningning's on her back, legs spread wide, glistening folds exposed to you as she waits for your next move.
"Yeah, this'll do," you say, drinking in that gorgeous view of her pretty cunt that's about to be made yours.
Ningning just smiles at the gesture. "Always knew you were a stickler for the basics. It's cute, really."
That's what she thinks. With that, you lift her legs up, resting both on your shoulders and folding her tiny frame, each of her feet by your ears. In an instant, her face changes from one of disappointment to realization, just at that split second before the plunge.
"Okay, this is different. I've misjudged, it seemsâ"
You say little else as your cock buries every inch in, sinking inside that soaking mess, making sure you fill her aching pussy perfectly. The groans slip out at her tightness, the wetness that consumes you, the way that Ningning looks once the motion of your hips start.
"You're fucking mine," you growl at the next slam, while her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head, her intoxicating cunt swallowing you up and clenching to make sure you won't dare leave.
"Ah, f-fuck!" she whimpers once you start to fuck her the way she needs. The way you think she deserves, the way you know the bed is going to protest to. No time for her to adjust, Ningning's tight little cunt clamps down with each desperate thrust, making sure you bury every last inch inside her.
"You're so tightâ" you grunt, sweat gathering on your forehead already. "Feel too fucking goodâalways feel so fucking good.
Ningning looks gorgeous when she takes your cock. Hair a tangled mess, all spread out, completely at your mercy. "And you're so deep, so much deeper this way, damn, baby."
"Don't act so surprised, Ning."
"Oh, don't think I can be surprised? As if I expected this? You're never this aggressive."
"Maybe you pulled it out of me," you admit, hips snapping, watching Ningning's expression falter with each slam to the hilt. It's addicting to see her fall apart for a change, to watch those moans escape, pummeling her cunt like there's no other way, no other alternativeâlike your dick belongs inside her at all times.
"God, baby, look at you go," Ningning huffs out, parting her lips at the forceful treatment you're dishing out. "Making my pussy feel so good, ahâI haven't been fucked this good in ages."
"Then allow me to remedy that situation," you start, taking pleasure in the way she crumbles, the gasp she makes when you withdraw, the frantic moan when you hilt back in.
"Fuck yes, babyâgive it to me. Harder, can feel you in my guts, shit," Ning cries out, throwing her head back, content to bask in the pleasure each time your cock disappears fully into her tight little pussy. "God, I needed you so bad. Needed you to fill me up so well."
"Here I am, Ning. Not going anywhere."
There's this rare moment where she can't find any witty comeback, not when that mouth hangs wide open, no snarky comments falling, nothing but pure unadulterated bliss. She's squirming, nails digging into the sheets, lifting her hips higher to let you reach places she'll feel for days.
"Fuck! Fuck, please, god yes," she pleads, struggling to find the words, staring at you through in hopes that you'll get the memo. "Please. Fuck me deeper, wanna feel all of you, want that cock to ruin me."
And that's precisely what you doâholding that position and looking Ningning right in those pretty eyes as you sink deep, pound that wet pussy until she's clinging for dear life to the sheets. She's powerless to you, or at least, pretending to be, words lost to lust as you fill her again and again.
Knowing that for once, she isn't the one in controlâthere's no strings attached or manipulating factorsâthat Ningning, that bloodthirsty, cunning, dominating vampire who can bring anyone and anything under her power, is nothing but a toy under you now. She's yours to do whatever with.
That sets something off inside of you, makes you want to push things further, take things to the next level. You shift, spread those legs wider and lift them off you until her knees almost meet her chest, folding her in half even.
Ningning's expression is filled with approval once you do, hips thrusting wildly with no mercy on her drenched pussy, hitting deeper than even before.
And now she looks delirious with pleasure, and your knees are digging into the mattress so you can get that little extra leverage, more power behind those harsh thrusts, hips working to the max, determined to ruin Ningâif it were even possible.
"That's it, destroy me, baby, make my pussy yours. Isn't it funnyâyou've got me in this, what do you humans call it? A mating press? And it's almost a shame that you can't breed meâmakes me wish you could. Give all that hot, yummy cum something to do besides make my pussy gush."
"That's the last thing we need, another Ning. One of you is more than enough."
"You wish you had two. One to suck your hard cock in the morning and another to sit on your face. Yeah, you'd love that."
Your mind can't seem to even grasp the reality of that, picturing it all for a brief moment, only to continue hammering Ningning's tiny wet cunt. The urge, the carnal need to bring her to her brink and beyond consumes youâyour hips working without rest, giving the girl no chance to recover, fucking her over and over in that delicate position with no way out of it.
Her body can't keep up with the intensity, and you can't almost either. Pinned against the mattress with nowhere to go, all that attention focused on her soaking cuntâtoo sensitive, too wet, too inescapable, each thrust becoming impossible to handle. For both of you.
You take pleasure watching her fall to pieces with each thrust that fills her, savoring every gasp that you cause, each plea for you to keep on driving in deep and hard.
"You, baby, keep pounding me like thatâfucking my pussy and ruining it. Giving it to me so hard because you know I can take it, I can handle everything you give. Keep it going, keep going and give me what I deserve, empty those balls inside me like you own this pussy."
Hard not to when she's so convincingâstaring at you, demanding your load, pleading to keep hammering that greedy cunt, your balls smacking against her asshole more than ready to dump it all in her.
"Get ready then," you say, hips losing all controlâthat pussy just won't relent, sucking and squeezing all around and making it harder than ever to keep going any longer.
"Oh, baby, pleaseâI was ready to be pumped full of cum the moment you invited me in. You're gonna cum so hard, I know, fill me, make my pussy so messy. Get that hot load nice and deep in me," Ning pleads, bracing for the inevitable, too far gone for anything else.
"Don't you fucking worry, Ning, this tight pussy is getting everything," you say, sheathing yourself deep in that wetness for as long as you can stand.
"Good, then you know what to doâcum inside me."
You groan outâmore than compliant with those demands, no longer fighting against the pressure boiling deep inside. No fight left from that tightness you can't escape from, so you give in, unloading as your cock empties into Ningning. The relief is heavenly, each violent throb, each hot spurt that floods her insides, her cunt clenching to demand it all, keeping you captive while you fuck it all deep.
Ningning follows not a second later, struggling to keep her composure as her own orgasm hits, face contorting in pleasure at her reward, toes curling, walls tightening even more as the sticky mess mixes with her own juices together in her hot depths.
And before you can even finishing pumping it all inside her, your fresh load leaks out that sopping, ruined cunt, pooling underneath your pleasure-stricken bodies.
"That's it, fuck⌠can always count on you to fill my pussy up, baby, just how I need," Ning groans, a tired smile creeping up on her face as she embraces her own bliss. "So fucking hot."
You linger in your high, and do little other than fall against her body and embrace the relief, cock slipping out enough as your cum begins to spill out and ruin the sheets further, something Ningning wears in such satisfaction.
"See?" Ning asks, a bit of smugness returning her voice, playing with your hair. "Aren't you glad you kept that sexy ass mine? "
Your body shifts, so you can focus your gaze on her beautiful complexion. Even if things may end messy again, you have no regrets. For now, all that matters is being right in the arms of the person who's never been more certain.
"You know how much I missed you, Ning," you respond, watching the way her breasts heave with the breaths that follow.
Ningning glances down at you, like that's an obvious conclusion. "Typical."
Too tired to even roll your eyes, too tired to put up with Ningning's usual antics. "Alright, sounds like its time to go back home, andâ"
She wraps her legs around you, preventing movement. "And why do you think that is?"
"You got what you wanted, you drained my blood and my balls. Now you can go."
Ningning's quiet as she ponders, just long enough for a mischievous smile. "No, I don't think so. It's lateâlet me sleep on your sofa."
"Sleep? You don't sleep until morning."
Ningning just giggles, peppering you with kisses that break down your protests. "Then you get to entertain me until then. Deal?"
"And what if I want to sleep?"
She squeezes tighter with her legs around your waist, keeping you firmly in place. "Then you let the wrong girl inside. Do you think I'm done with you?"
Well, no, you certainly don't. That's something she'll make abundantly clear.
"Okay, fine, I'll stay upâbut let me take a shower. You really made a fucking mess."
"Me? You were the one that dumped all that cum in me."
You simply stare at Ning, glaring right back at you. The more you stare, the more you both burst out into a fit of laughter, any attempts at acting serious not lasting more than a few seconds.
"No, I think your pussy deserves some blame. It had my cock trapped pretty tightâ"
"But you had me all folded like a goddamn chair. Pinned and begging for your cum, that's on you."
Her eyes narrow and Ningning raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow in disbelief. You just remain there, hands lingering atop her waist. "Oh, my apologies for how rough I got with your pussy. Wasn't aware my precious Ningning was so delicate."
Ningning scoffs, using her strength to move your hands off. "I'm a goddamn vampire, don't talk to me about delicate. You can't hurt me no matter how hard you fuck."
"Is that a challenge?"
Her glare continues. "Don't get fucking cocky, love. You'll hurt yourself more than me."
"Hm, sounds like a challenge to me."
"You're such an idiot. You could literally use both hands to choke me with no mercy and I'll just laugh at how pathetic you look. Nothing you can do."
You tilt your head. "Does that mean you'd enjoy the idea?"
"I didn't say I was against it. Just won't do anything, is the point."
There's little sense in debating the merits of that claim. And you're so exhausted that you wouldn't even try. For tonight at least, you can let Ning have this victory.
The rain eventually calms down, enough for the two of you to head outside the balcony and enjoy the weather without risk. Freshly showered, with Ningning in nothing but a stolen shirt from your closet. It's lateâso late, but you don't really care.
"Are you planning to make a habit of this?" you ask, knowing what you're asking might be dangerous territory.
Ningning's head turns, the grin on her face looking devilish from so close as she leans over the balcony railing. "Would it upset you if I did?"
An hour ago and you'd have a very different answerânow you aren't so sure. "No, not really. I mean, not like I can ever stop you."
Ningning just takes in your reaction, her own expression not changing a bit. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you missed me."
You sigh, staring up at the night sky as she inches a little bit closer. "A pretty girl shows up at my door and lets me do whatever I want, lets me fuck her hard against the shower wallâyeah, maybe a little."
Ningning laughs, her hand creeping around to find yours, fingers interlocking and thumb rubbing slowly against your flesh. "Is that all it takes? For me to show up, suck your dick and let you empty your balls into me, then I'm suddenly a good person?"
"Hey, I never said thatâ"
"Darling," she says, tightening her grip, bringing her head right next to yours, warm breath ghosting over your ear. "I'd bend over and do every dirty little thing you ask without complaint. I'd worship your cock just for the sake of making you happy. All I need is for you to say you want that. That you want me."
That gets your attention. You can't say that this night has been anything but wonderful, despite your trepidation in at the beginning. Your fingers squeeze tightly around hers, eyes focused on Ningning's pretty face in the dark, moon illuminating her features.
"God, what am I getting myself into.."
She laughs, flashing that bright smile before turning back to face the city skyline. "Hopefully me again, love."
You snake your arms over around her small waist until she's tight against you. With no shame whatsoever, you slide your hands underneath, squeezing Ningning's bare ass and pulling her into a kiss.
"But what if I wanted to do all kinds of crazy things to you, Ning? Or wanted you to do them to me?"
Ningning struggles not to smile, doing all she can to not succumb to the giddy laughter that tries to emerge. "Just tell me a time and date then. So I can catch that goddamn train."
Not letting up, you steal her lips, tasting them, savoring how soft they feel against yours, running your hands all over her cold, bare skin.
"Why catch a train when I have a perfectly good sofa for you to crash on?" you ask between kisses, trying to spend as much time pressed up against her body as possible.
"Darling," she interrupts, almost annoyed, staring directly into your eyes. "Please be serious right now. Don't treat me like I'm some random hookup."
You raise an eyebrow, confused. "I wasn't. I'm offering you a place to stay."
Ningning breaks out into a little laugh. She stops herself when you show no sign of joking.
"Wait, you're actually serious? Really? Stay?"
You interrupt her with another kiss. "Isn't that what I said? Not gonna make you sit on some shitty train for hours just to get dicked down at some ungodly hour. Stay with me. Tonight. Tomorrow night. Whenever you want."
She doesn't know what to say to that, only that her smile is spreading from ear to ear. "Of course I'll stayâthought you'd never ask. I'll happily get dicked down any time I come. Suck your dick the moment you wake up. Make breakfast, talk dirty to you while you stroke and cum on my tits, all kinds of crazy, naughty thingsâ"
"Ning, you already have an invite, you don't need to try so hard."
She laughs it off. "What can I say, I get excited by the idea of seeing that cock at any hour."
"Christ. Is that the only reason you want to live here? Just so you can drain me dry every hour on the hour?"
The little giggle that Ningning gives is enough of an answer, knowing she can't deny the fact that it's a strong motivating force behind her plans. "No, of course not, baby. I also need you around so I can take your blood whenever I need it."
You scoff at that, threatening to leave the balcony altogether. Ningning, laughing again, wraps her arms tight around yours, refusing to let you out of her grasp. "I'm not a buffet, Ning."
"Mm," she hums, nuzzling into your neck. "You're whatever I need you to be. Your cock certainly is. Your thick, juicy, deliciousâ"
"Ningâ"
"Yes, darling?"
"Come inside. It's freezing and the rain is starting up again. And you're not wearing anything to speak of."
Ningning laughs, clinging to your side. "Or what, I might die? Vampire, love. I could do this all night."
Another sigh escapes, pulling away only to lift her up into your arms, getting a good grip under her ass so the resounding sound of her squeal fills your ears once you carry her back inside.
"Someone is eager to go again," Ningning says, more than happy with where things are heading. You pretend that the thought doesn't cross your mind.
"No, I'm freezing and wanna go to sleep. I have work tomorrow," you say, depositing her ass right onto the cushions of the sofa before she can put up a fuss.
"It's the weekend, love," she reminds, pulling you down on the couch with her, legs already wrapping around and taking the fight out of you. "Which means you're stuck with me until Monday."
Nothing you can do but laugh at her persistence. You kiss her, once, and then pull away. Staring into her eyes, taking in her beauty, wondering if it would always be this difficult for you to escape.
"Should have listened. When people say you shouldn't feed strays. Because they always keep coming back."
Ningning's expression changes, lips turning into a far more offended pout. "Are you calling me a stray? What the fuckâ"
"You always show up on my doorstep, wanting scraps and a place to rest. Is that not far off the mark?" you tease, only to be cut off by her lips.
"Rude," she mumbles between each kiss. "There are plenty of places I could be. Men to see. Bars to visit. Places to collect victims. Yet, here I am. Guess where I've chosen."
"Just sounds like you don't have anywhere else to go if you askâ"
Ningning's kisses stop abruptly, grabbing your head and guiding it down between her legs. "I didn't ask, thanks. Now if you don't mind, be a good boy and eat my pussy before I need to feed again."
There's no argument there, nothing that would ever stop you. All comfortable on your stomach before Ningning, her creamy thighs about to consume your entire existence. You might spend the entire weekend here, you think. And maybe forever.
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You went dead silent after the asks. No updates whatsoever on anything. People were right, you should've removed the schedule tab to be honest.
I'm genuinely confused why you want me to update a story when you're incapable of reading at all, because if you had actually read a single word of the post then you'd already know why I went silent. But alas, the revelation of the year for you appears to be that being rude to authors might not be the best strategy if you want them to continue writing.
Feel free to ChatGPT the ending to TCD. I have no intention in completing it for you. <3 mwah xoxo
PS: I took off the link to the schedule, but please don't refer to just yourself as "people", it's really strange. :/
Hi! Updates every 1-2 weeks were never sustainable, but I forced myself to do it because I really cared about my readers. I still do, but the loud minority has made it extremely difficult to want to sacrifice so much out of my personal life and continue those sleepless nights just to reinforce the entitlement. I hate that the rest of my followers have to wait because a few people ruined it for everyone, but I'm unfortunately not immune to toxicity. That being said, I also don't think a month is even a long time for an update for the majority of writers.
I don't expect to change any of your minds, but please treat fanfic authors as real people. Before guilt-tripping or demanding things, ask yourself if you could deliver all that you expect from them.
Hiii <3 I miss you guys too and I'm sorry for the lack of updates, I've just had a really bad series of unfortunate events back to back. After getting sick, a lot of personal things happened, and then last week I had a freak accident where the tip of one of my fingers was sliced off and I wound up in the ER so now I can't even type properly and things have been really difficult. đ I'm recovering, but forcing myself to write has been a bit of a challenge~ But I'll try my best to make it up to you once I'm better!!
You've never been much of an "alpha male", and frankly, you're fine with that. Your childhood is a classic tale: always last picked in school sports, struggled to make many guy friends, called every homophobic slur under the sun just for having basic hygiene. Despite it all, you ended up in an alright placeâa quiet and unassuming existence.
Then, you met Kazuha, and your quiet and unassuming existence turned upside down.
"He ordered the chicken sandwich, not the burger," she scolds, dropping the tray of food onto the counter with enough force to send a couple fries flying.
You meekly tug her sleeve. "It's fine, reallyâ"
"Hush, baby." In an instant, she shuts you up with a quick glance with those piercing eyes. "Let momma handle this."
"I'm so sorry, ma'am," the cashier says with his squeaky, prepubescent voice. "I'll have the kitchen put a rush on his chicken sandwich right away. Uh, may I interest you in a free dessert for your troubles?"
Kazuha turns to you, patiently waiting for your answer.
"Uh, I guess a vanilla milkshake wouldn't be so badâ"
"Vanilla milkshake," she repeats, leaning against the counter. "And no cherries. My boyfriend doesn't like cherries."
The cashier gulps, his Adam's apple practically disappearing in sheer terror. "U-uh, yes ma'am. No cherries. Understood."
"Good." Kazuha shoots him one final glare before taking your hand and leading you back to your booth.
"You didn't have to do that," you mutter. "I would've been fine with the burger."
She slinks into the seat across from you with a huff. "It's not what you ordered though. And I know how much you like the chicken sandwich at this place."
You shrug. "The burger isn't that bad."
"Then why didn't you order the burger?" She raises her brow in that "I'm right and you know it" kinda way that you're all too familiar with.
"WellâŚ"
Kazuha reaches across the table and lifts up your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. "Repeat after me: Thank you for fixing my order, Kazuha. You're the best," she says in a high-pitched voice.
You chuckle softly. "I don't sound like that."
"Say it."
"Thank you forâ"
"Do it in the voice."
"WhaâI'm not gonna do tâ"
"Do it!"
Her outburst attracts some unwanted attention from other tables, making you shrink in your seat. "Kazuha, people are lookingâŚ"
Her lips curl into that smirkâthe one that never fails to make your heart do a somersault even after eight months of dating. "Aw, sorry," she brushes her thumb against your bottom lip, "did I embarrass you, baby?"
"W-whatever." You pull away before you do something that'll get both of you kicked out for overt PDA. "Thanks for fixing my order. You're the best," you utter flatly.
Kazuha sits back, arms behind her head and chin held high like those cool kids in old movies. "I know. I'm pretty fuckin' sick."
"And humble too."
The cashier from earlier drops off your food, making an effort to avoid looking Kazuha in the eye. "Here you go, is there anything else I can get you two?" he asks.
Kazuha looks over at you for an answer. "No, thank you," you say. You swear you see him breathe a heavy sigh of relief as he walks away. Poor guy.
"I feel bad," you unwrap your chicken sandwich, the one you ordered initially. "He's probably got enough things going on without us giving him grief."
"Relax babe, we're doing him a favor. Now he knows not to mess up people's orders," she points out, coolly tossing a fry into her mouth.
"Still," you linger on the flakes of salt on her lip for a second too long, "you know how badly service people are treated on the daily. I don't wanna add to that."
"Then don't. I'll do it for you," she smirks.
"Kazuha, that's not funny."
"What, I didn't laugh."
"Yeah, but you're smiling."
"I'm smiling because you're cute."
You bite your tongue, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of a grin. Unknowingly or not, she sets her food to the side and leans forward, eyeing you like a piece of art.
"Ugh, I hate when you do that," you mutter.
"Do what? I'm just lookin' at ya." Her eyes trace over your lips, and you wonder if she'll like the taste of that new chapstick you just bought.
"I'm trying to eat."
"Am I disturbing your eating?" You feel her foot press against your calf, drawing slow lines with the toe of her boot.
Trying to win against Kazuha is a sisyphean task. She does what she wants, and you follow her around like a loyal puppy. Behave well enough, she'll give you a treatâand just like any puppy, you like your treats.
"Not here, at least," you pout. "I haven't had a single thing to eat all day."
"Aww." She gives you one last drag against your leg before settling back into her seat. "Okay, I'll let you eat."
"Thank you."
Even then, you find your foot gently rubbing against hers as you eat. You can act annoyed all you want, but face it: you're completely smitten with Kazuha.
"Baby?" Kazuha grabs a leather jacket off of the rack and holds it up to her torso. "What do you think?"
"I think," you sigh, "you have way too many leather jackets."
"What's wrong with that? I'm a collector."
"That looks exactly like the one you bought last week." You take a closer look at the oddly familiar looking tag. "I'm pretty sure that is the exact same one."
"Oh." She takes one last look at it before putting it back. "See, this is why I like having you around. I've probably saved, like, a billion dollars thanks to you."
"Whatever," you chuckle, linking your arm with hers. It's just common sense, you think, but the warmth of her compliment is leagues better than being right.
The two of you pass by racks and racks full of the new wave of summer trends. Personally, you've always been a fan of the fallâcardigans, sweaters, the ability to wear jeans without your legs feeling like tinfoil-wrapped burritos. You and summer are just a match made in Hell. Inevitably, it comes around to torment you for three months out of the year and you're forced to scramble for a wardrobe that won't burn you alive.
"See anything you like?" Kazuha asks.
You scan the men's section, grimacing at the typical suspects that plague the shelvesâtank tops, cargo shorts, ugly graphic tees with abominations like "summer vibes" written all over them. "Not really."
"You sure?" She grabs a simple black tank top off the rack. "This one seems pretty nice."
You physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Something like that would only look good on her, with her pretty arms that are deceptively strong, and when she flexes, you can see the shadows dance around her biceps, which reminds you of that one time she put you in a chokehold as a joke and you could feel her muscles pushing against your throat, and you were so mesmerized by the feeling that you forgot to fight back, andâ
"Baby?" Kazuha shakes you out of your trance. "You okay?" she chuckles.
"I-I'm good." You wipe away the droplet of drool that almost leaked from your lips. "Let's keep looking."
Deeper and deeper through the men's section you go, yet nothing seems to tickle your fancy. Go figure. You knew looking for clothes this time of year would be futile, but Kazuha wanted to hang out and you already said yes before realizing how much of a waste of time this would amount to.
"Ugh, these all suck," you groan.
"Maybe we'd have found something by now if you weren't so picky," Kazuha points out, brow raised at you.
"Not all of us were born to look good in just about anything," you bite back with a cheesy grin. "Some of us have to put effort into looking nice."
"Hey, don't blame me for being sexy." She drapes her arm around your shoulders, and for a split second, you think she's going to put you into another chokehold. So close. "I don't want you overheating just because you're being stubborn, baby."
"I'm not being stubborn, I justâ"
You glance over at the women's section and stop at one of the mannequins. It's wearing a simple outfit, fitting for the weather, but what catches your eyes is the skirtâfloor length and ruffled, made of a pure white cotton that seems to dance, even on the still mannequin.Â
For one reason or another, you can't take your eyes off of it. It wouldn't be too hard to fit into your current wardrobe, and it's a much nicer alternative to the dull beige of all the cargo shorts that seems to infect every corner of the men's options. But, it's justâyou're a guy, and Kazuha, wellâyou already wonder why she even likes you, andâ
Kazuha follows your gaze. "Are you getting the hots for the mannequin?" she teases.
"W-what? No, I justâmaybe we can find somewhere else toâ"
She grips your hand before you have a chance to escape. "Hey, be honest with me." Her voice turns softer, more sincere compared to her usual mischief. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, Iâ" You peer into her round eyes. They're void of any kind of judgment or disgust, the usual reaction you expect when girls you're interested learn of your 'peculiar tastes'. "I just thought the skirt was pretty. That's all."
"Pretty on me, or pretty on you?"
"Well, of course you'd look pretty in itâ"
"Hey." She tilts your chin up, the tip of her thumb pressing your bottom lip. You practically sink into her touch. Never have you felt a presence safer than Kazuha's.
"I⌠wanna try it on," you admit shyly. "Is that okay?"
She bares her pretty white teeth at you before pressing a soft kiss onto your lips. "Of course you can, baby. You don't need my permission to wear whatever you want."
Heat creeps up your cheeks like lava bubbling to the top of a volcano. "Thanks," you utter, biting back your excitement at the thought of looking pretty.
The second your staring at your reflection in the dressing room mirror, the ruffled skirt in your hands, it all starts to feel a little too real. Your first ever skirt. The thought has crossed your mind a handful of times before, but you never thought you'd actually get to this point. If it weren't for Kazuha and her charming eyes, this moment would just be another figment of your imagination.
You take a deep breath, and you put it onâit fits. Your reflection doesn't look half bad either. The breeze between your legs will take some getting used to, and you'll need to be wary of what color underwear you wear with these, but for now, you're just in awe of how good it looks. How good you look.
You do a little twirl for fun, giggling at the way the dress flows like petals on a blooming flower. Kazuha knocks against the dressing room door. "Did you try it on yet? I wanna see."
"Yeah! Come in."
As soon as Kazuha sees you, her expression drops. In that moment, worry starts to creep into your mind.
Does she not like it?
Does she not like you?
Will she leave just like the rest of them?
All your anxieties are laid to rest as Kazuha envelops you into a tight squeeze. "Holy fuck, my boyfriend is so pretty," she breathes, rocking you back and forth in her arms. You immerse yourself in her warmth, the kind of warmth that steadies your heart and quiets your mind; the kind you want to feel every day until you die.
"Does that mean you like it?" you ask.
"I love it," she says, pecking your lips. "I'm totally buying you every single color they have."
You chuckle at her enthusiasm. "Maybe we can just stick to this one for now? Until I get used to it, at least."
"That's fine with me." Her lips find yours once again, this one a little longer, a little more tender. "It really suits you, baby."
This kiss leaves you wobbly-kneed and blubbering, reduced to a puddle of lovestruck goop in her arms. Her strong, toned arms that you somehow fit perfectly in between.
"Let's hurry up and pay for it so I can take it off you later tonight," she winks, shutting the door behind her and leaving you to feel like the luckiest boy on the planet.
The two of you kick off your shoes by the front door of your apartment, tossing the shopping bags haphazardly on your coffee table. Those will be for future you to deal with; right now, your feet are dead from all the walking and your body is in desperate need of a bed to collapse on.
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Kazuha urges, dragging you to your bedroom. In there, she collapses back onto your bed, arms above her head and her eyes staring you down like a hawk to a little mouse. "Hurry up and take me, pretty boy."
"O-oh." You gulp. "You mean, like, right now? Umâ"
"What's that?" Kazuha asks, a smirk growing on her lips. On your usually tidy desk, a small pile of crumpled tissues sits next to your closed laptop, and the memory of what you did last night hits you all at once.
"W-wait, it's not what it looks likeâ!"
"You little freak!" Before you have a chance to explain yourself, Kazuha jumps to her feet, grabbing at your laptop with the cunning of a fox. "Ooh, let's see what kind of perversions you were watching!"
"Kazuha, don'tâ"
She flips open your laptop, and on the screen lies a still of the last scene you had watchedâa boy with cerebral palsy and his grandma overlooking the edge of a mountain.
"What?" Kazuha asks. "Where's the porn?"
"I wasn't watching porn," you sigh in embarrassment, "I was watching a movie."
She gasps. "An adult movie?!"
"No!"Â
Kazuha falls into a fit of giggles. Real mature of her.
"I was watching a⌠sad movie." You point at the pile of tissues. "I was cryingâŚ"
"Aw." She holds your head to her chest, kissing the top of your scalp. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make of fun of you for crying."
"It's fine." It's impossible to be upset with her when she feels this nice.
"Was it good? Can I watch it with you?"
"You want to? What about the whole, um, 'taking you' thing?"
She chuckles softly. "Maybe some other time. Walking around all day has got me feeling lazy." Kazuha crawls into your bed, cozying up under your covers. "C'mon, I wanna watch!"
You relent, following her onto your bed. "I might cry again."
"That's okay," she wraps you in her embrace, "mama's here."
You drag the little red dot all the way to the beginning and hit play, safe and sound in her arms.
"Grandma?" Chunhe utters, cradling the box of his beloved cat's ashes in his arms.
"Hmm?" she replies.
"After you take me to school, I'll buy you a meal at the cafeteria."
His grandma smiles at him. "All right."
"And then," Chunhe continues, "Buy yourself a train ticket and go wherever you want. Go look around. Go have some fun. Let me walk the rest of my path my way. All right?"
His words may be slow or clumsy, but his sincerity cuts through like the sharpest blade, and his grandma knows this. No more is Chunhe the helpless little boy he once was; now, he stands tall against the prejudice that the world throws at him.
Even after knowing how it ends, it doesn't get easier the second time around.
She holds you to her chest, letting you sob your little heart out for what feels like forever. For every tear that falls, Kazuha is there with a brush of her thumb or a comforting kiss to pick up all the broken pieces that the movie left you in.
It feels unfair, undeserved, you think, to know such tenderness like it's home. In the original script, the roles would be reversedâKazuha sobbing into your arms while you comfort her.Â
But they aren't. And even in this tenderness that you cherish so deeply, inklings of insecurities that you've long held still manage to seep through.
"Can I ask you something?" you say, wiping away at the last of your tears.
"What is it, baby?"
You breathe, slowly. "Why do you⌠why do you like me?"
She leans into you, the soft weight of her cheek resting on your head. "Hmm⌠Well, other guys just suck," Kazuha answers simply.
"Don't you ever wish I was more, uh, 'manlier' or something?"
"Hell no," she grimaces. "Those kinds of guys are the worst. I say one funny thing and they're all like 'Damn, your energy is different, for real!' and it's so annoying! I just have a personality!"
Kazuha holds you tighter, and it becomes clear just how much she wants you over any other guy. "Besides, I like my boys on the softer side." She kisses your damp cheek. "It means they have a soul."
The two of you share a chuckle, holding each other underneath the covers until the fatigue of today catches up to both of you. Your insecurities quelled, body warm, and heart undeniably owned by this miracle of a woman; for the first time in your quiet and unassuming existence, you feel like you're right where you belongâwrapped up in Kazuha's arms.
Tags: Angst, fluff, idolverse, LDR, LDR pains || ~3.6k words
A/N: This is my entry to @starconstruction's little 'just write' challenge. Spent just a little over an hour writing this. No edits. No revisions. Just raw fic. Hope it's decent. Oh, and Fanprose saw it way ahead.
=====REALITY #9415121859=====
=====ENTRY #262120201319134911332093=====
Itâs silent. Itâs awfully silent.
Between the pounding of your heart and the cracks in her breath amidst the empty VIP lounge, with each passing minute, you both can feel itâthe tension. The ticket lodged between the glistening folds of her Japanese passport flash you the time of departure like a taunt. Ten-thirty-five. Barely three hours after their concert. Barely two hours after you had gotten to see her again in person for the first time in years. Barely an our after she said she wanted some time to âjust talkâ.
Barely a minute since she hit you with that question.
You stare at her dry lips, at the way it quivers inwards like sheâs pulling back a thought. You can imagine her asking you that damn question again in your head.
âDo you think ⌠this is going to work out? For ⌠for us? In the future?â
The thought of it alone is more than enough to freeze the blood in your veins. You still get stiff when you recall the way your face warped from relief after seeing your girlfriend again in the flesh, then into confusion when you began to wonder where this was all coming from, and finally into dread when you finally realized where this discussion might be headed.
What was that supposed to mean? What does that spell for your relationship?
You wish it was that easy. You really wish it could be that simple. To just talk to her. To just ask her directly about it. To confront her and her unspoken fears and insecurities about your long-distance relationship.
But the words donât come out. You canât find it in you to scrape them from the pit of your chest and lay them bare before her. She doesnât seem like she wants to breach the subject eitherânot again. Whenever your eyes met since she popped the question, you could tell from the way she darts her gaze away within milliseconds that she just wanted to instigate. She was hoping you would progress it.
Did she really think youâlet alone anyoneâcould have prepared for something like this?
Youâre happy enough as it is. You have many things to be thankful for.
Youâre glad you managed to save up enough money to attend their concert tonightâSVIP tickets. Bougie little shit. She offers to not just get you a free ticket to the soundcheck, but also a special backstage pass so you could hang out with her and the other members during the breaks and lulls of their performances. But you told her some cheesy and cringey spiel about wanting to âearn your wayâ to be by her side when sheâs on the stage. So she let you do it your way.
Youâre relieved that your little gambit after the concert paid off. The moment she told you that the flight was almost immediately after their concert, you began planning for a means of escape. You knew it would be difficult to reach her, so you pulled some strings, which included buying a cheap ticket to South Korea, bribing the staff in charge of the lounge areas, and sending her a script meant for her manager to allow her to be excused for a moment before their departure. It was hard enough for her to come up with bullshit reasons for her other members, but youâre just glad it worked.
But most of all, youâre glad that sheâs with you. Really with you right now.
Leaning into your stiff body planted firmly against the soft padded cushions of the lounge couch, sheâs pressing her cheek between the folds of your lap, holding onto the stretch of leg between your hip and knee, allowing you to caress the stray strands of her hair away from her face, Naoi Rei acts as if nothing had just happened between you two.
As if you two hadnât soft-launched your break up.
Thereâs a whole self-service buffet in front of you two: pastries, all-day breakfast, specialty items from the local cuisine, finger foods, light snacks. Thereâs even a cocktail bar stocking one of her favorite drinks. But she doesnât budge. And neither do you.
You know you should probably get some food for herâeven feed her if you have to. You didnât want to bring it up before whenever you two got on video call, and you werenât even sure if it was real or if it was all just in your head, but you couldnât help but notice the amount of weight sheâs losing. One of your hands crests over her bare thighs and squeezes it in comfort. Your other hand dangles just above her laying face and pokes a finger into her cheek to test its plushness. Thankfully she hasnât gotten too skinny, but it concerns you. Greatly. And you should probably be a decent boyfriend anyway and get her a bite or two to help her recharge after her concert.
And yet, you still find yourself motionless by her side, halfway between wanting to embrace her tightly and helping her sit up so you can walk out and run as far away from the airport as possible.
You shut your eyes and let out a sigh so deep that it rumbles in your stomach, alerting her.
She shifts, swapping from her previous fixationâthe F1 race on one of the TVs that she knows absolutely nothing aboutâand instead now looks up at you.Â
You try your best not to look at the sulk in her eyes, at the pale of her cheeks, at the longing in her pout. You feel your pettiness bubble up to the surface. She was the one who hinted at breaking up, so why should you feel any pity towards her?
But who are you kidding? One glimpse of her and your knees buckle. Soon, you find yourself staring right back at her from above.
You donât know what to say, and thatâs probably part of the problem. You gather she doesnât know what to tell you either. Youâre not really a person of many words. You were never verbose nor well-spoken enough growing up. You just let things happen and left the thoughts alone to simmer in your head. So what were you supposed to do now? What were you supposed to say now?
Should you circle back to the topic? Bring it up again? Raise your concern? That seems very risky. Maybe she already forgot about her break up idea. If so, then reminding her about it would just place it back into the forefront of her mind and develop the thought further.
Should you maybe break the ice somehow at least and try to lighten the mood? Whether or not sheâs still actively thinking about the question she asked youâand your lack of a decent intelligible responseâyou should at least try to support her right? Try to support her? You can only imagine how physically exhausted she must be right now. The setlist they had for tonightâs concert was insane and afforded Rei and the other girls little to no breaks. Maybe being silly for a bit to lift her spirits isnât such a bad ieda.
Should you maybe just ⌠let it be?
Among the multitude of thoughts swimming around in your head, you let that line of thinking simmer the longest before entertaining it further.
You avoid her gaze for this one, and you swear to god you could hear her whine because of it.
What if you just let it be?
The last time you saw Rei in person was back in 2024, when she came to your area for a second time following their groupâs first world tour. You two were more lovestruck back then. More carried by passion. More limited through the view of each of your own rose-tinted glasses. You didnât care if she was only around for two days. You didnât care if you could only have her for an hour after their fan meet on the evening before the concert proper. You didnât care about what youâd both do, or say, or profess to each other when you could finally meet again. You just let your emotions take control and wash over you, and you both found yourselves forming the treasured memory of nearly falling down the stairs of her hotelâs fire escape because she wouldnât let go of your face to stop kissing you for even just a secondâeven if it could cost her her life.
And now?
Now you had more time. More leeway. More comfort. More freedom. And yet you both have done less with each other this year than you did two years ago. Hellâyou could even argue that you both have done way less together tonight than you normally did over voice or video call. You swear you had everything planned down to a tee, calculated everything for your plan to be executed successfully, refined all the different scripts you had in mind for what youâd finally tell her once you were with her again face-to-face. But none of it mattered in the end, did it? She came into tonight with something else on her mind.
So what if you just let it be?
What if you just allowed yourself a final moment of respite with her? One last chance to just hold her intimately like thisâlike you are right nowâin the silence of the lounge. No cameras. No fans. No overprotective manager or nosey members to be wary of. Just the two of you. Not as idol and fan. Not as random strangers who matched on a whim using a silly dating app. Not as oppa and dongsaeng. Just boyfriend and girlfriend.
What if you just let her go?
You wanted this relationship to last. You really did. You still do, in fact. Even after all the doubt that she casted deep within the well of your being. It shattered you. Collapsed you into yourself. Weighed down on you from start to finish. But you held onto hope. You believed that one day, your monthly photo-journal compilations on Google Drive would turn into a collage of physical photos scattered across the space of your soon-to-be shared apartment. That one day, your weekly dates across the screen would spill over into reality, and you could finally take her out around the fancier parts of town for Saturdates or Sundatesâwhenever she was more free. That one day, your nightly calls in bed that lasted until someone passes out or cries themselves to sleep would culminate with you both falling asleep and waking up next to each other in the same shared bed.Â
But as those words echo in your head like the toll of the dead, you canât help but wonder if those memories? Those wishes? Those hopes and dreams of yours? Were all just a veil for you to hide from the reality of the situation.
Sheâs an idol. Sheâs meant for the stage, and the limelight, and the fame. Sheâs meant to be loved by manyâmore than just you. And you? Youâre just a normal dude trying to live paycheck to paycheck. Just outrunning life before it starts to get ahold of you. Just ⌠trying to chase after her and finally merge onto her path as well.
But who are you kidding? Thatâs never going to happen. Reiâs never giving up on being an idol. And you are never going to be within her league in your lifetime.
So, you return to the thought. That damn ever-present thought.
What if you just let her go?
Itâs easier that way, isnât it? After all, it saves you the impending heartbreak thatâs looming over you like a hurricane in the horizon. It saves you all the messy bits. It saves you from taking longer to move on.
âMove on?â
You flinch, glance slowly back down at her until youâre staring at her similarly confused expression, and raise a brow. âWhat did you say?â
âMove on?â she asks again, tapping a finger now against your knee. âYou were writing it. On my body. âMove onâ.â
You didnât notice it, but Reiâs right. The hand that you unknowingly moved down towards your waist had its pointer stretched forward as if it was tracing something against her skin.
âSorry, I was just ⌠thinking. About things,â you feign, opting to go with the first optionâto not talk about it.
Rei nods, cheek grazing gently against your jeans. âCan you guess what this spells?â
With her own finger, she mimics your writing and actually attempts to write something across your thigh. At first, you couldnât really tell what it is. But after the third attempt, you stopped comparing it to morse code and instead tried to treat it like brushstrokes of a pen.
âCon ⌠-cert?â
Rei nods again with a smile, clapping her hands in small flits. âThat took a while, but that was good. Ok now, your turn!â
You arenât really in the mood to be playing games, but you indulge her. Itâs the least you can do to decompress.
âBes ⌠No, beau âŚ? Beau ⌠Ah! Beautiful!â she completes with a roll of her eyes. In the same vein, she writes out her next word for you.
âBack? Back ga ⌠Wait is this even in English anymore?â
The smirk she pulls when you ask this is enough to confirm it. You furrow your brows and try to focus on the strokes, on the way they see a bit more rounded on the curves and sharper against the edges. When the âEureka momentâ finally strikes you, you thank the heavens for blessing you with enough patience to study Japanese on the daily ever since you started dating Rei.
âBaka? Hey now!â
Burying her face into your lap, she does a little wiggle to try and ignore you. Either that or she was just unknowingly being adorable once again. You want to smile. You want to caress the side of her face. But the bitter taste of her words blossom once more at the back of your tongue, so you hold yourself back.
âYour turn. Write me something. Anything. And Iâll guess it again.â
You scratch at the nail of your pointer with the tip of your thumb. Like youâre sharpening it. You use this moment to think.
âRe ⌠Rei! Rei-chan âŚÂ wa ⌠totemo ⌠kawa ⌠kawaii? Rei-chan wa totemo totemo kawaii, nee!â
âOk you clearly added more things to that, but sure,â you tease, earning you a pinch to your cheek. âGo on, itâs your turn now.â
She palms over your thigh like sheâs erasing her previous message before writing anew with her finger, leaving you to guess what it is again.
âMoo ⌠moo âŚ?â
Rei is bawling, hair fanning out behind her on your lap as she clutches her stomach to try and relieve herself from the manic laughter. âYou sound just like a cowâI should have recorded it.â
You bite your lip. âHey, Iâm trying my best, alright? Wasnât fair that you shifted the game to your mother tongue.â
She nods, gesturing towards you with her chin, inviting you to finish what you started.
âMoo âŚÂ moogenkai?â
Sheâs at her limit? At her limit for what?
At first, you figure that she might just be hungry. That she might just be hinting at you to go get her something to eat already. To stop being a coward and treat your girlfriend right. But when you motion like you might stand up, she pushes hard against the joint of your knee as if to stop you from your idiocy.
When she looks into your eyes this time, you can tell somethingâs changed. She continues writing on your lap.
âGan âŚÂ Ganbatteru yo ne? Demo ⌠demo âŚâ
The moment your mind translates what sheâs trying to tell you into English, you freeze. You donât say it out loud anymore. You simply voice it out in your own mind.
Ganbatteru you ne? Soredemo mada fujubunda.
Watashi no tame ni.
Anata no tame ni.
You feel knot after knot starting to tighten in your guts. But Rei doesnât look away from youâeven when you do. She knows you understood what that meant word for word, and the way sheâs gazing right up at you right now feels like sheâs waiting for your response.
Iâm trying my best, but it doesnât feel enough.
Not for me.
Not for you.
Suddenly, itâs gotten quite difficult to breathe. Youâre certain the AC in the room hasnât changed in the slightest, and you havenât had the faintest bit of contact with the different food offered before you two to have triggered one of your many allergies. But you find yourself, nonetheless, both breathless and speechless to the point that just the simple flexion of your throat muscles feels like youâre swallowing shards of glass.
How do you tell her?
How do you tell her that, because of her, youâve found meaning in the smallest pleasures? That you always keep your phone charged in case she ever wanted to call? That you always check her Bubble, her Instagram, her Twitter to make sure you never missed a post or message? That you always carve time for a few minutesâjust a few momentsâevery hour amidst your daily schedule to write out your thoughts about your long-distance relationship together in your journal, hoping you might one day read them to her? How do you tell her that seeing her smile after a long day of workâeven itâs a bare-faced one, or a tired one, or a silly oneâfeels more refreshing than any ounce of sleep you can get? That you play her voice messages on repeat in your earphones, every train ride to work and every bus ride home, just to hear her voice again? That you dream of her, every single fucking night, to the point you spin fantasies in your head about future dates, vacation plans, and even your fucking wedding just to state your unbridled and overflowing love for her?
How exactly are you supposed to tell Naoi Rei that you are unapologetically, maddeningly, and absolutely in love with her? That she could even slit your throat with the butter knife sitting nineteen feet away from you, and you would still thank her, and instead apologize for bleeding all over her?
How exactly are you supposed to tell Rei that she is enough?Â
For you?
So you do the only thing you can think of in the moment.
You throw away the letters youâve written her and memorized by heart. You shred the romantic and cheesy lines you forced yourself to gobble down and stow away for whenever you might need to say something profound to her. Hellâyou donât even consider quoting some of her favorite poems or favorite lyrics and songs even if you know thatâs guaranteed to cheer her up.
Instead, you let the little voice in your heart do the talking.
So you tuck the final lock of her sugar brown hair behind one ear, lean forwards to press your lips against the side of her temple, take a deep breath, take in the scent of her skin and sweat and cologne, and plant the longest, warmest, and likely final kiss you will ever give your girlfriend.
And then, you write it down across her body.
And then, through bated breaths, she mutters it out.
âA-Ai ⌠shi ⌠tte ⌠r-r-ru âŚ?â
One drop. Then two. Then three. Soon, a whole garden of tears begins blooming across your jeans.Â
Clutching your hand against her clavicle, tucking her chin in as if to trap your wrist and all your fingers so you can never leave, she begins to write in reply across the stretch of your palm. But you donât say it out loudâyou keep in locked up in your heart.
Zutto ⌠soba ⌠ni ⌠itai âŚ
Her phone rings. She doesnât even need to check it to know who it is.
Rei pushes up from her laying position and keeps her head down, now sitting inches away from you. Your pinky lifts, then twitches, then reaches out, but it never leaves its position. Her thumb raises, then circles the air, then jerks towards you, but it never meets you where you are.
âItâs been great. Wonderful really ⌠b-being your girlfriend ⌠Even from afar. Iâm glad we could endâ.â
You throw yourself onto her so hard that you knock the wind right out of her sails. But you embrace her harder than that as you begin scribbling into her back.
She never says it out loud. She never looks to you to verify what she thinks youâve written. Instead, Rei just detaches herself from you, slides off the couch, and bows down deeply to her waist.
âThen Iâll be holding out for you until then. I ⌠I canât make any promises. And I donât want to hurt you, o-oppa, but ⌠but if you want this ⌠then I will.â
And thatâs all you could ever ask from her.
Between the unsteady cadence of her leaving footsteps and the tears sheâs trying to stop flowing down her cheeks, with each passing minute, you can both feel itâthe relief. The fingers that slip over the promise ring you gifted her two years ago sparkle into your eyes like a renewed vow. Ten-thirty-two. Barely three minutes before sheâs rushing down the airport hallways to try and catch her flight by the skin of her teeth. Barely two minutes before sheâs coughing up explanation after explanation for her members on being late, bursting into tears, and learning a new language. Barely one minute before sheâs settling into her seat, looking out the airplane window, and counting the days until the next time you both get to meet in person again.Â
And in your solace, you donât even find it in you to fall to your knees and wail. You know what thisâall of thisâspells now.
The way she leaves you? The way sheâs gone? Itâs silent.
~Twice's Chaeyoung (x Male Reader), ft. many other idols, 5.6k words, Champions Part 1
Read it on Fanprose
A/N:
Guys, I think this one really brought my passion back for writing. It is also HEAVILY inspired by the new treehouse feature Fanprose just released.
This one is kind of an action packed SAUSAGE FEST in the beginning, but hopefully the short smut scene will appease some of you gooners (yes, I'm talking to YOU!)
Big thanks to @xantithesis, @dotoliwrites and @iuchamjohta for ideating with me.
And HUGE thank you to one of my favourite people on tumblr @azelfty, for making this a whole lot more legible. Thank you.
The dark hall was grand, as if it knew of the upcoming battle.
"Swan?" The man in the center of the hall asked as a second appeared next to him, landing softly.
"Yep," He confirmed with a plop. "They're here."
"Who's they?"
"Everyone. Jennie'sâ fucking coward. Lisa's. Even Jungkook's champion is here."
"I'm getting old," The first man said, eyes glowing neon magenta as he manifested a sickle and chain, spray painted with flashes of vibrant artistry. "But they're gonna need a lot more than that."
A little more graceful, a little more collected, the second man emerged a spear, long golden handle and shining silver tip in that same glowing magenta light. "There's more. Irene's boy is here too." His voice wavered.
"Irene's boy? I thoughtâ I liked him."
"Well, when you're on top," he concluded, fear in his voice gone. Or hidden, at least. The pair looked around in the hall, nearly devoid of light as their eyes flicked to the dark figures waiting in the shadows. "That's not it. Even 4th and 5th gens. Too many to name. They're trying to tip the balance."
The first man rolled his shoulder, loosening it. "You scared?"
"No. We're Twice's boys."
The first man chuckled softly. "The girls, where are they? They performing?"
"Yeah. They'll be fine."
The dark figures surrounding them too briefly flashed with light, some purple, some pink, too many to count.
"The rest are on their way?"
"I think it's too late for that." The pair shared one last aching look at each other. "It was an honour."
The first man nodded, before loosing his chain and sickle.
Later that night, as the lights shined down upon Twice as they sang and danced, somewhere far away from Korea, a pang in Mina and Chaeyoung's heart shook them to their core. Still they smiled. Still, the crowds screamed their names.
In any case, they weren't the only one's who lost champions that night, courtesy of a spear, a chain and a sickle.
---
"Something happened on that stage, I'm telling you!" You yelled.
"What are you on about?" Your friend asked as you left the arena. "The girls were perfect."
"I never said they weren't perfect. I said that something happened! It was right at the start of BDZ. Mina and Chaeyoung shared a look! I swear!"
Your friend rolled his eyes. "They shared a look? Oh no! What ever could that mean! You mean to tell me two people performing on the same stage shared a look? It must be code red!" he mocked.
"It wasn't like thaâ"
"I think this concert is getting to your head. Listen, I know you're the self-proclaimed 'number 1 Chaeyoung stan in the world', but don't you think you're reading into things? Hell, I'm a Chaeyoung stan too."
"Maybeâ maybe you're right," you sighed.
"Hey, it was a great concert. I get it. Post concert tacos?" he asked.
You let the memory wash away from your head. That pained look in their faces. First Mina's, then Chaeyoung's. Then a look between them. And you could've sworn the whole group danced just a little more tense after it.
Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you were too deep into this. It was a great show.
"Hey, look at this," your friend said in line for tacos. The crowds had thinned out, most taking the first couple trains out, or otherwise finding restaurants to dine at.
"What is it?" you asked, grabbing his phone.
"Something about Shuhua. She collapsed during a show tonight. Hope she's alright. Anyway, did you see Nayeon? She was so perfect. I thinkâ now don't kill meâ I think she's my bias wrecker after this. What about you? Anyone challenge the hold Chaeyoung has on your heart?"
"Never."
Post concert depression was a real thing, you concluded. After highlighting the entire set list for the 6th time over a 4th order of tacos, discussing all the little details you two could remember, you finally decided to call it quits and head home.
Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that something happened during the concert. Now back at home, you analyzed the videos you took, but clearly, you weren't the best photographer (recording while singing your heart out is pretty hard). Hopefully fancams were out from tonight.
You sat at your computer desk, scouring the internet for fancams, so lost in it you didn't even notice the footsteps outside of your room, or the soft creak of your door.
Nice, at least 3 different angles of the BDZ performance. None of Chaeyoung yet, but you had Mina's. And Chaeyoung was in the background of the Jihyo fancam.
Nothing, maybe you were wrong? Maybe it was just yourâ no there. A slight pang, barely noticeable, as if out of nowhere. Not during a straining dance move or anything, but Chaeyoung's face screwed up in pain, and God it hurt you to see. Like, physically, which was kind of weird.
Bang
The noise rung out with such power your ears popped. You wouldn't have even noticed the windows to your balcony shatter if its glass hadn't scattered onto your floor.
Another bang.
You turned to your balcony, and a man in heavy mercenary gear stood there, poised and ready, dual pistols trained at you.
Not you, you realized, as the bullet whizzed behind you.
It clattered with a blade, so pale it looked like moonlight. It's holder stumbled back as the force ricocheted his swing.
Your first instinct was to run, but as you went to make your escape, the sharp shards of glass dug into your feet.
Still, whatever the hell was happening here, in your room for god knows what reason, you had to get out.
You ignored the sounds of battle behind you, ignored the screaming pain in your feet, and made for your bedroom door.
It flung open before you even reached a hand to it, and another entered. Ice blue clothes with a bow, already strewn. His eyes found yours.
The mercenary slammed into the bow carrier, knocking him down, before turning to you.
"Let's go!" he said, grabbing you with a rough hand, lifting you to your feet.
All you could do was scream as he dragged you to your balcony, kicking the sword carrier who lay already sprawled out on the floor, no sword to be found.
"L-let go!" you yelled, squirming in the mercenaries hand.
"H-hey! Calm down!" he yelled.
"What the fâ letâ meâ go!" you struggled.
He sighed as you wrestled with the single arm hoisting you up by your shirt. "Sorry about this." He pressed the finger of his free hand to his ear. "I'm knocking him out."
"L-like hell you are! I know karaâ"
With glowing magenta light, a gun manifested in his hand, and it's butt met your nose giving way to blackness.
Then light. Blurry, woozy, but light.
You shook, but restraints held you in place.
So, you started to scream again, because what else would you do?
"Hey, hey!" a voice rang. The same one that kidnapped you.
"What the fuck is happening! Where am I?"
"I can't believe you all left me to deal with this," he said to god knows who, voice grizzled. Now that you got a good look at him, he looked like he sounded. Battle hardened, stern. "Hey, just calm down. You like Chaeyoung, right?"
The question took you off guard, so much so you actually stopped screaming. "Châ what the hell does that have to do with anything?"
He knelt down, hands open in front of him to signal 'I mean no harm'. "Everything." He slowly untied the rope around you. "Hey, Chaeyoung's boy. I like Momo."
You sat there incredulously. "You kidnapped me!"
"You're welcome."
"You're welcome!?"
"For saving your life."
You remembered the two intruders in your house, the way this man's bullet ricocheted a sword that looked like it was headed your way, the way he slammed the bow-wielder before they could sling an arrow into you.
"Can you justâ tell me what's going on?"
He sighed, body losing it's tension. "You'reâ"
"Goof,"Â a voice rung out from a walkie-talkie laid on a table nearby. "Not yet."
"What do you mean 'not yet'? You can't just keep me here!"
"You want to leave this safe house? Deal with those two again?" Goof (or, yeah you thought his name was Goof, which didn't match him at all) asked.
"N-no."
"Let me handle them," Goof said into the walkie-talkie. "Send someone else here for the kid. I can take them."
"We don't even know what's going on. Plus, we're not even there yet. You were the closest one,"Â a voice, different than the first said.
"What, you think I can't handle Aespa's champions? I'm Momo's boy for God's sakes!"
"You only won because of the concert tonight. Karina's boy is dangerous. He felled a whole hate page in a night. Saesang's hate to see him coming."
"Tch, lucky. And now they're coming after us? Was Karina's boy there? Was he there when Artâ Swanâ was he there when they were killed?"
"We don't know."
Something wasn't adding up. This had to be some sort of sick joke. What it sounded like was you were kidnapped because you liked Chaeyoung, which didn't make sense at all. And apparently this guy hated Karina? I mean yeah, you liked Chaeyoung, but you liked Aespa as well! God, you were used to weird Kpop fans, but taking things to this level? It was all too much of a joke.
"I'm going after them."
"No! You still have the newbie!"
"He'll be fine," Goof said, clicking the switch of the walkie-talkie, silencing it. "You ready?"
"Wha-no!"
"Look, I know you haven't met her yet, but just think about her. Think about Chaeyoung, and you'll be fine."
"Waitâ what your saying is⌠I'm gonna meet Chaeyoung?"
"You really are a champion," Goof said, smirking. He picked you up, again by the shirt. As if you weighed nothing, and ran, kicking the door open.
Seemed you were on a roof, the night lit up with the light of the moon. He plopped you on your own two feet. "Follow me."
You could've ran away, really, but you had no idea where you were. And, yeah it was probably a joke, but he did say something about meeting Chaeyoung. You couldn't just pass on that.
Your mood kind of changed when Goof ran across the roof, jumping a whole 15 feet to the next.
"Cmon," he yelled, waving casually for you to follow.
Okay okay, yeah this is all probably some joke. And yet, you did see glowing moon blades, and pistols manifest out of thin air. Not to mention Goof, jumping 15 feet.
Okay no, that didn't mean you were going to jump 15 feet to another roof.
A crystal blue arrow split the night sky, so fast you barely noticed it. The whole rooftop went cold.
A familiar bang sounded, bullet breaking the arrow and restoring the warmth of the summer night, but a quick look behind you and, even from this distance, you could see a pale moonlight blade shine white as its holder hopped from roof to roof.
"Fuck! Run!" Goof called.
Your feet started towards the edge of the roof without even thinking.
"Think of Chaeyoung!"
So you didâ you thought of the first time you laid eyes on her, on a little mobile screen as 'Fancy' played, you thought of the first time you saw her in concert, of her smile, of that little mole on her faceâ and you jumped.
Your feet did not find purchase as gravity carried you lower. You opened your eyes, screaming as the ground grew closer.
Again, Goof's hand closed around your shirt as he jumped in after you. He wrapped his arm around you, spinning to orient the both of you.
"Nngh," he groaned as he landed in the empty alleyway.
You still screamed as he put you down.
"Do you ever stop screaming?"
"I knew it! I fucking knew it! This is all some sick joke! We should've stayed in that safeâ"
Goof pushed you out of the way as an arrow whizzed past you. You ran to the wall, placing your back against it as the same man in ice blue clothing landed in the alley.
"Shitâ" Goof started, before firing another bullet to intercept the arrow fired in your direction.
"Whoâ is that?" you asked, backing away slowly. Goof angled himself in front of you, but both him and the bow-wielder stepped slow, weighing each other out.
"Winteâ Frost. Used to be a friend," he said quietly. "Hey Frost! Mind telling me what the fuck is going on?"
Frost lifted his hood, revealing pale white hair and vivid blue eyes. "Tipping the scales," he said.
"A lot of that going around. You didn't happen to be there when Art and Swan were killed, did you?"
"I had nothing to do with the Chaeyoung or Mina boys fall. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
Goof lowered his guns, just by a bit. "But you must know why. Why? What did we do!?" He gritted his teeth, voice pleading, desperate.
"It's not what you did, it's what you have. All of you."
"What weâ"
Frost loosed an arrow at him.
"Jesus, Frost," Goof said, shooting the arrow down. "I'll defend myself if I have to," he continued, and it wasn't a wall, wasn't a barrier, but a threat.
A crash from the other side of the alley signaled another. Not the moonlight blade carrier, but someone maybe just as terrifying.
A huge sword, as tall as you and a foot wide landed with him. Jade green outlines with ornate carvings making a beautiful dragon, the new person heaved its tip in your direction. "You're gonna have to," he said.
Glowing magenta light, and Goof's guns were back in his hands. Everyone moved with precision, practiced and powerful, and if you weren't glued to the wall in fear, you're sure even had you chanced to run, you would've been slashed down anyway. Goof's guns shot bullet after bullet, taking down arrows headed your direction, all while he flipped and ducked out of the way of the giant sword.
He was like an acrobat, finding angles to dodge you couldn't believe possible, before closing in with a strike to the sword holder, either a kick or a butt with his gun.
Goof worked like a machine, even against the two, whose teamwork looked practiced. Every now and then, an arrow would launch at Goof, and when he inevitably dodged it, the massive sword would propel the arrow back in his direction.
All while protecting you. You felt stupid to question him, but then again, what were you supposed to have done?
An opening? Maybe not the fault of the sword-wielder, but one forced open by Goof's expertise. Now, with a direct line of sight Goof's bullet pierced the swordsman's hand.
He dropped his sword, but in creating that opening, Goof's attention left you. Frost capitalized on it, hopping the distance between you two, gliding towards you like on ice.
Your hands flew up to defend yourself, but Frost launched a punch to your gut and your body went limp.
A bullet went straight for his head, but as if swatting away a fly, Frost brought his crystal blue bow up to deflect it.
Goof rushed him, stepping over the floored swordsman.
"You're not taking another fucking champion tonight!" he yelled in a fit of rage. Frost brought his bow up to block the dual pistol-whips trained for his head, but as the guns bounced, Goof brought a leg up, kicking him with force.
The blow was so hard, the brick wall around Frost's body shattered.
"I don't want to do this," Goof said, holding the gun to his head. "Just tell me what's going on!"
"It's⌠happening⌠you're not the only onesâŚ"
"What's happening? We're notâ who else!?"
"The great⌠song. Art and Swan, they died because they had toâ"
Bang
Your eyes widened as the bullet entered his head, skull caving in around the entrance with a spray of blood.
"Shiâ" was all you managed, before you heaved onto the pavement. You collapsed, still emptying your dinner. "Y-you killed him!"
"He was trying to kill us. He mocked them."
"T-this isn't a fucking joke anymore. Thatâ that guy is dead! Blarghh" you heaved again.
A blood curdling scream pierced the air, and from above, a slash as white as moonlight streaked towards the two of you.
In your heaves, you had fallen to your knees, but Goof wasn't so lucky. The slash hit him in the chest, spraying another gush of blood into the alley.
He fell against the wall. "It's R-Rina's boy. Run!" he managed, but the moonblade wielder landed in the alley. His jawline was screwed up in anger, but even so, it was sharp. Maybe even sharper than the sword he brandished.
Goof struggled to stand, and his guns flashed in and out of corporeality.
You'd seen what Goof could do, seen how skilled he was, but as Karina's boy stood in front of you, you understood there was no way he could do anything in this state. His aura alone could make you cower. It was a miracle you didn't notice it in your room.
Gauntlets blazing like the Sun trailed from above, as a punch aimed at the moonlight wielder was deflected by his blade. Yet another had entered the battle.
"Take him and run!" the gauntlet wielder yelled.
"Theyâ they said we weren't the onlyâ" Goof stuttered
"Run!" the gauntlet wielder yelled again as his fists collided with the moonblade
Goof grabbed you, dragging you out.
The sounds of fighting rattled in your head. It sounded fierceâ the other swordsman had probably awoken. In Goof's injuries, he stumbled.
"G-Goof! You're gonna need to, fuck Goof!" you yelled, but his eyes went unfocused as he coughed blood, collapsing with his arm around you. "Just stay with me."
"4âŚ87 Tavern LaneâŚ" he said, before collapsing unconscious.
"Go!!" a voice, bright yet commanding rang behind you.
Getting Goof to the address wasn't easy. How did it look for you to be dragging an unconscious bleeding man 12 blocks? It wasn't even downtown proper anymore by the time you got to the address. Still, you managed to get him there without too much trouble.
Looked like an abandoned garage, spray painted and caked with layers of dirt. A door at the side of the building sat unlocked, and upon entering, a cozy lounge welcomed you. Velvet carpets, plenty of space, workbenches, and soft couches.
You dragged him to one of the couches, laying him down. He was pale white, the scar on his chest stretching its whole length.
You collapsed too, huffs of air signaling your exhaustion.
You should've been helping Goof. Okay, look around here. There must be some bandage here. You got up, fighting through aching muscles to look around.
Still, you took nothing in as you searched. The events of the night kept replaying, how you got broken into. How Goof had kidnapped you. How he had killed someone. Right in front of you. The memory kept replaying over in over in your head. How the archer's eyes popped out of his head as the bullet entered his skull.
You dry-heaved again. But you knew one thingâ this wasn't a joke anymore. Whatever this was, whatever was going on, it was real, and it was dangerous.
Seriously, no first aid kits here in this mercenaries hideout? Seemed like poor foresight.
So what now? Did you just, stay here? You couldn't in good consciousness leave, right? Not with Goof here, bleeding out.
On one of the other couches, you found a comfy looking blanket. Maybe you could make a tourniquet with it? Not that you knew how, but well, might as well try.
Approaching Goof revealed something oddâ his wound looked better. Almost smaller. What the fuck was he? A superhuman? Shouldn't be surprised, really. He could manifest guns out of thin air.
A creak of the door jerked your attention as you wrapped the blanket awkwardly around Goof.
Fuck. Did they find you? You grabbed something, anything to defend yourself.
It slowly opened.
"Stay back! IâI'm armed!" you screamed.
A man collapsed through the door, his fitted black shirt and sweats looking ragged. He hell to his knees, but even battle worn he was handsome. It was as if the Sunlight itself had walked through the door.
"Armed with a pillow?" he chuckled brightly. "Help me up."
You faintly recognized him as the gauntlet wielder. You were drawn to help him, so much so you were sure, even if you hadn't recognized him you would've helped.
"Goof! He's unconscious!" You told him as you rushed to help him up, tossing the pillow aside.
"He'll be fine. Fans are going crazy, especially after that concert tonight." He struggled to his feet, taking you in. "You're⌠different than expected. Sorry for the chaotic welcome," he smiled.
You helped him stumble to the couch. "What welcome? What is this? What the hell is going on?!"
He paused, eyeing you. Weighing you. "You like Chaeyoung, right?"
You clenched your jaw. "Yes! And Goof likes Momo! What the hell does that have to do with anything?"
"Yeah, well, I like Jihyo. I guess, you can call me Cap'n."
"I like Jihyo too! What do Kpop idols have to do withâ with all this?"
The pretty boy smiled again, and though you'd never admit it, it calmed you down. "Yeah, well, I like her a lot."
You balled your fists up. You were in no mood for this enigmatism. "Can you just tell me what's going on?"
"Never thought Chaeyoung's boy would be a yeller. Listen," he started standing up, "you're a champion."
"A⌠champion?"
"You feel it too. You have to. The touch of the soul, the connection, something here," he pointed to your chest, "something in your heart, when you listen to music. Don't you?"
"Yeah, well, doesn't everyone?"
"I should hope so. When do you feel it strongest?"
"When I'm listening to Twice, of course." You said it with confidence. Maybe the only thing you've said with confidence since this whole thing started.
"Be more specific."
"When Iâ when Chaeyoung is singing."
"Exactly! You're a champion!"
"You still haven't told me what the hell a champion is!"
"We'reâ you're a manifestation of the spirit of her music. The spirit of her song."
The words hit you like a truck, and the world around you disappeared. As implausible, as crazy as it sounded, you felt it. You've seen it. Still, you needed more. "How can that be true? I'mâ I didn't even know who Chaeyoung was until like, 7 years ago!"
"It's more like, I don't know, the spirit of her music has manifested itself in you. I don't know the details."
Okay, so you're Chaeyoung's champion. You sat down on the couch, next to Goof who looked substantially less pale. "And what? Champions just, fight other groups champions? Doesn't feel very 'spirit of the music' does it?"
"No," Cap'n said, disappointed. "This has never happened before. Champions, they defend that spirit of music."
"Defend? Like how?"
"Music, it brings people together, it shares and amplifies positivity and joy, sometimes to the whole world. But with it comes fame, and fame, it's like the opposite. All those akgae's and saesang's you see, that's the shadows of fame trying to infiltrate the spirit of music. Trying to corrupt it. Those haters, they manifest beings. Beings from other worlds that look to take down musicians. Make their music unfit for joy. That's where we come in. To protect them from those spirits."
"Okay, so what you're telling me is some⌠some spirit has chosen me to be Chaeyoung's champion against the haters?"
"Kinda, yeah."
You felt a depth of gratitude spur from your heart. Chaeyoung's champion. How did that sound. Unbelievable yeah, but from what you saw todayâ today. Someone died today. Right in front of your eyes. What did this mean for you? That you too would be responsible to fight?
"So⌠wait. If champions are meant to fight the haters, why are we fighting with other champions?"
"I have no idea. They just⌠attacked us. Yesterday, everything was fine, and then tonightâŚ"
You paused for a moment. "I assume I'm not Chaeyoung's first champion?"
Cap'n looked down, sorrowful. "Mina and Chaeyoung's champions were killed during the concert."
You leaned back in your seat, taking in the weight of it all. "I⌠and I'm their next target?"
"We all arâ"
Goof shook awake with a gasp of air, sitting up. "NMIXX! ITZY! Oh God! Cap'n!" he yelled as he jolted back into consciousness, "Frost said there were others! Do youâ"
"Calm down," Cap'n said softly. "Goof, calm down."
"They said there were others!" Goof repeated. "We need to check on our dong-saengs!"
"They're fine, Goof. It's not Itzy or NMIXX this is happening to as well." His voice was strained and wary.
"Oh thank God," Goof sighed. His breathing mellowed out as he took in his surroundings. "What the hell happened to you?" he asked, nodding at Cap'ns worn appearance.
"It was Karina's boy. He's so damn strong. If we were in Korea, it'd probably have gone worse."
"You're Jihyo's champion! You don't lose to anyone! We're Twice for God's sake."
"I never said I lost."
"The rest? Are they okay?"
"Timbre and Flow are at the JYP building, Wink and Sha are getting Mina's new champion."
"Those are⌠the rest of Twice's champions?" You asked.
"Yeah. You caught him up on the whole 'champions' thing?"
Cap'n nodded.
"You'll meet them soon enough."
"You⌠you said that about Chaeyoung."
Cap'n laughed. "You really are a champion. Don't worry, she's always around."
"Oh, and you'll do more than just meet her. From what I heard from Art, Chaeyoung is quite voracâ"
"Goof."
"Sorry, Cap'n."
A haze of magenta light manifested a small drone no bigger than a house fly between the three of you.
A scrawny voice sounded through it. "Le Sserafim. They're targeting Le Sserafim next."
Goof and Cap'n didn't seem fazed by its sudden appearance. "Le Sserafim? How do you know?"
"I did some digging. Cap'n, they're gonna need help. They're already dealing with the backlash from Boompala."
Cap'n sat there in thought. "Why them?" he pondered out loud.
"Cap, we have to help them! We can't just leave them alone."
"How long 'till they're attacked? Do you know?"
"I think it's happening now."
"We need to help them Cap! Call the girls. Ask their jet!"
"They need it for the tour. No matter what happens, it's not their job to get involved. It's their job to be idols. Think about what we're protecting."
"But theyâ"
"They'll be fine." Cap'n concluded. "Timbre and Flow can help if they need to."
"We don't even know who's attacking us yet! It could be every champion in Korea"
"They'll be fine. Those Le Sserafim boys survived the Easy era. They're probably more battle hardened us."
Chaewon arched her back as he kissed down her belly. "Holy shit, Sticks, calm down."
Sticks propped her up, sliding his hands down to her ass. "Mmm, but you just taste so good, baby." His lips kissed lower and lower, before reaching her black panties. "I wanna taste more."
"Nngh, fuck, baby," Chaewon moaned, grabbing his hair and stopping him from going further. "Dâ don't you have a job to do?"
"Oh, because of that damned comeback of yours? You love to keep us working, don't you. Plus, my only job is to take care of you."
"So go deal with those demons like you always do," she purred, stroking his hair.
"I have to take care of this. You're so wet, clearly you need it."
Chaewon lessened her restraint letting Sticks's tongue brush against her wet pussy.
Sticks wrapped his arms around Chaewon's legs so they rested on his shoulder, snaking them around so one of them landed on her belly, caressing it softly. The other hand found her clit, thumb rubbing it softly.
"Nnghâ shit. Youâ you don't do it like this with Zuha, do you?"
He licked harder at the mention.
"You didn't get more turned on from hearing her name, did you?"
"Please," Sticks groaned through licks. "I'm your champion."
"That doesn't answer the question."
"Then maybe this will."' He shifted his hands so they reached her breasts, licking up to her clit.
"Nngh, Sticks!" She moaned as he tongued her while playing with her nipples. "Sticks, shit, I'm gonna cum." Her legs tightened around his face as her wetness coated it.
"Cum for me, baby."
"Nngh!" She groaned, clenching her legs even tighter.
Sticks stayed there, licking as she squirmed around him, before she eventually came down, loosening her hold.
He kissed up her belly, collapsing on her chest, feeling her hands wrap around him.
"I should probably go."
"Or you could stay?"
"Weren't you telling me to go like, 5 minutes ago?"
"Yeah, but you're comfy."
"I can practically smell the fame ghouls from all the way up here. You chose some fucking songs to release, Chae. Haters are going crazy."
"I like the songs."
"I do too baby."
"Liar. Well, can't the other champions handle them right now?"
"The rest of them are still dealing with the all the ghouls celebration brought, so thanks for that. With Boompala, we're going to be busy all damn week. The building is probably swarmed with them right now."
"It's just going to be you tonight?"
"Don't think I can handle it?"
"I know you can it's justâ I'd like it more if someone else were with you."
"I'll be fine," Sticks said, leaving the bed with a grunt. "I'll see you tonight?"
"Ugh, fine."
"Are you pouting?"
"Yeah," she said, fighting back a smile. "Is it working?"
"Almost."
"I'm kidding, go. Be careful."
He propped himself up, hovering over her. "When am I not?"
Sticks stood at the edge of the roof, looking at the skyline of Seoul. He'd come up here at night sometimes, when Chaewon was on tour. The city lights seemed sharper, more beautiful. If he listened close enough, he could hear it. The city singing.
Especially at this time of night, when all of the chaos subsided. The people of Seoul sleeping, it created its own song. That's why he loved Chaewon, she had this knack, this ability to take the songs of the world and turn them into something palpable. Into art. But today, like the last couple of days, was far from unchaotic.
Though, even the ghostly purple glow of the fame ghouls, who stormed the building en masse, filling the streets below looked pretty. At least, they did now that he was used to them.
Even the breeze was nice, the howl of the wind was music in its own right. It helped calm him, remind him why he fought. His eyes glowed fearless blue as he manifested an odd sort of weapon, but one that fit his relationship with Chaewon perfectly. A pair of nunchaku dangled from his right hand.
He closed his eyes, let the rhythm of the night dictate his next move.
He could hear the battle below, creating its own songâ discordious, but beneath it, hidden right under the surface, something beautiful.
Eyes still closed, he let himself fall, let the wind around him rush as he climbed lower and lower towards that discourse.
Then, the song rang its loudest. He opened his eyes, swinging his nunchaku around as he oriented himself, landing. The purple mist around him faded as the fame ghouls he struck were released from this world.
There was more tonight. More than usual. He swung his weapon around him, releasing ghoul after ghoul.
If he wanted to, he could've felled the ghouls fasterâ the spirit of Chaewon's song was strong, but Sticks liked this. The slowness of it all. Watching the ghouls release with swing after swing; it was peaceful, cathartic.
He could spend hours out here. At times he'd close his eyes, let his ears do the work.
Like most nights, the sound was wrong, but in the middle of it all, a song so harmonious and beautiful pierced through everything. Bright and beautiful, the song filled his mind, giving him joy. He knew this song well.
Sticks opened his eyes, the street now a haze of mist as every single ghoul rose from this plane of existence.
Atop the HYBE building stood another champion, long red whip flowing, cutting the night sky in two.
Sticks smiled. He'd worked with her before. "Been a while, Luck!"
Luck stood there, her own hair flowing like her whip.
"Everything okay?"
Even from down here, Sticks could see the look on the face of Wonyoung's champion. Usually happy and smiling, it was different. A somber sort of expression, maybe even angry.
Like lightning, the whip cracked towards Sticks, circling around him and burning like passion.
"L-Luck? If you wanted to spar again, you could've just asked!"
In an instant, Luck pulled herself towards the nunchaku holder, landing beside him with a crash.
"I'm sorry for this. Really," Luck said, voice low. She gripped the handle of her whip, pulling tight. The rope constricted around him.
"Luck, what the fucâ" Sticks started, before his lungs too were squeezed.
Luck's long dark hair shrouded her face. He could barely make out her expression. "The one true song is coming.
----
A/N:
I think if someone were to ask me to recommend them one thing by me to read, it would be this. Truly, I am really excited for this.
Let me know what you think other champions weapons should be. Really fun coming up with ideas for this! Doesn't even matter from which group. Clearly, this story involves the entirety of the Kpop world, so who knows, maybe groups you wouldn't expect me to write will show up.
College classes are bullshit, you thought as you stared at your phone screen, class schedule on display. Not living in the city, you took a two-hour commute â every day â just to arrive for one class thatâs only for an hour. An hour. Then itâs the same stupid commute home at 8. Thatâs it. For the majority of the week.
For Fridays and Saturdays? Oh yeah, theyâre fine, most definitely.
âChrist, 7 to 7 on Fridays and Saturdays?â, you whined out loud. You swiped a few more at the screen in disbelief, hoping it was a glitch, just a minor typographical error by some overworked coffee-for-blood intern half-asleep over the keyboard. But no. An internship at the local clinic, and four hours of a course on clinical research and ethics. 7 to 7. You heaved a sigh and tightened the straps of your backpack. Why they couldnât put some of the classes during your weekdays is a mystery as clear as muddy water.
Finally leaving the ornamental front gate of your college campus, you trudged along a brick path that ran alongside different shops and stalls that were neatly positioned just before the train station. You pass by different hobby shops, neat textile stands, and a couple of establishments you havenât got the time or the money to try.
You reached the last stand of food and saw beside it a newly opened cafe, complete with a jazzy new logo, neat brutalist walls, and those hip, one-word, obscure names all cafes seem to have nowadays: Fors. Its grey walls seemed to hold more life inside as you peeked into the windows beside the main entrance. Orange lights and the buzz of customers gave the cafe that inviting feeling of stepping into something new, despite its seemingly uninviting exterior. You decided to indulge in that, thinking of buying a small pastry for the road.
The cafe wasnât all that big, situated on this gravel lot with a neat side garden facing the street, but it definitely maximized the space. Brick stepstones were inlaid to lead to the heavy wood-and-glass door, with its sleek black âWelcomeâ sign hanging. The larger cement wall extended to the right of the door, sporting this large, seamless circular window, its wedges smoothed out to serve as momentary seating or a place to take a photo, as the neat sidewalks and the bunched-up shops outside, with the shadow of the nearby bridge, serving as the background.
Your feet crunched on the gravel as you took the brick path towards the door. Fixing and undoing your pack straps, you pushed the door inward. The bell overhead rang. The staff, all clad in matching navy blue polo shirts and cream-colored aprons, looked toward the entryway and offered a warm welcome. Fors was a spacious cafe, its cashier and brewing station situated to your left atop slabs of the same cement. Just past the cashier was the cold glass display, chock-full of illuminated pastries and cakes, each with its price. To the right of the cashier and pastry area was the front-of-house. It was designed to be sunken, so there was a small downstep to reach the various chairs and tables for customers. Off to the side, where the large circular window had been, were these velvet couches and small coffee tables, basking in the natural light. On the opposite, far end of that were more tables distributed evenly, orbiting the cafeâs large shelves filled with books. The sconces attached to the walls leaked out the same orange light that caught your attention, tying all the elements together cohesively.
To be truthful, you werenât a big fan of cafes. More specifically, you werenât a big fan of how cafes tried hard to be âcommercially uniqueâ, going so far as to rename the sizes of coffee cups or complicate coffee orders with a dash of this or that, a dollop of foreign syrup, a shot of exotic bean grounds. You had your gripes, too, with this new wave of muted, minimalist, and sleek aesthetic that all cafes seem to go for nowadays. Youâd always wonder which Heaven a cafeâs soul goes to whenever it loses its life and trades it for cold, stone floors.Â
However, you never turned down a good old croissant. Itâs simple, not too crazy â plain. Seizing the moment, you walked to the cashier and placed your order.
âWould you like a regular coffee with that, Sir? It comes in three sizes, Micro, Mean, and Maxim,â the young female barista pointed up at the overhead menu with the drink sizing.
âYeah, Iâll have theâŚuhâŚthe Mean.â You cursed internally.
âOkay, thatâll be $25.50.â
I will never return here, you thought as you weakly handed over your card. After a few taps and prints, you took it back alongside the warm croissant and ventured down towards the seats.
Scanning the area, most customers were seated near the circular window, hoping to get a shot for Instagram or whatever. So you walk past them and take a window-side wood seat with a small square table. Comparatively, this window was a bit dirtier, with blurry fingerprints streaking and dotting the pane.
âGuess they neglected you, huh, buddy?â You softly asked the window, pulling out the seat. âWell, donât worry, Iâm not much for circle windows,â you whispered as you finally sat down to wait for your coffee.
âYou usually talk to inanimate objects, or just windows?â
On the table directly in front of you, nearer to the books, there was a woman. Fair. Olive-shaped face. A gentle and delicate nose with a smooth bridge. Subtle smirk. Silky deep-brown locks styled in a wolfcut that flowed just down to her shoulders. Time-stopping.
âNo, justâjust windowsâŚâ You sighed.
The womanâs gaze was sharp. You felt it cut you four different ways as she scanned your appearance, searching forâŚsomething. The slicing ceased as her gaze fell back down to the opened laptop in front of her.
You gulped a bit as you shifted in your seat, uncomfortable with the sudden connection this stranger initiated. But hey, with a knockout of a woman such as her, you found it hard to complain. She sat down like grace and hard work combined, a delicate posture accenting the way her fingers typed swiftly, her eyes twinkling from the laptop light. She seemed around your age, with smooth skin sculpting and defining her cheeks and neck, with waves of her hair flowing downwards in subtle curls.
âYou usually stare this long at strangers?â she piped up again, never taking her eyes off the laptop screen.
You cursed under your breath. âNo, I-Iâm sorry, I didnât mean to. Thatâs weird,â you said with a shift of your head away from her general direction.Â
What is wrong with me? You thought. Your heart raced just looking at the woman; any longer and youâd die. But fuck, this girlâs beautiful, you awed silently.Â
And so, like addiction and relapse and all that, your gaze flowed and waned, wandering and detouring, but ultimately landing back on her.Â
Her brow was raised, still immersed in whatever she had on that laptop. Her eyes narrowed a bit further. Then it happened. Seemingly frustrated, her nose scrunched like something she didnât mean to do and instantly corrected. The crinkles at the top of her nose bridge eased as her expression settled. It happened for a split second, but you caught it.
Then you felt a slash, the gash quickly rising from your arms and up to your face. Warmth flushed your cheek. Her almond eyes lacerated you. You were leveled.
You nervously smiled, getting caught again. You fiddled with the complimentary Fors creamer and sugar, hoping that mindless actions would undo the last three minutes of awkwardness. You drummed the table a bit, conveniently looking to the counter, waiting for this dumb century-long coffee.Â
Coffee beans mustâve still been harvested from exotic red-soil countries, you mused.
The woman suddenly stood up, chair whining against the floor. Grabbing her sling bag and books in one hand, and holding the corner of her still open laptop with the other, she strode shortly and stopped at your table. She set her belongings on the table, occupying more than half of your table space, and sat directly in front of you, resuming her nonchalant typing, not even acknowledging you with brief eye contact.
âUhâŚâ
âItâs self-service.â
âExcuse me?â
The woman nodded to the cashier. âThatâs probably your coffee right now, cooling away.â Right enough, your eyes found a pastel grey mug sitting alone on the countertop.
âExcuse me,â you said with a half-hearted smile as you peel away from the table. And so you walked over, grabbed your now less-hot-than-desirable coffee, and stopped just before you reached your table. The woman still sat there.Â
Okay, Iâm still in it, you rejoiced silently.
You took a seat again, placing the coffee just beside your croissant and the newly placed leather books. You craned your neck subtly, trying to read the titles on the spines.
âLaw books,â she answered.
âLaw student,â you responded in understanding.
So she was older, you thought.
She gave a nod as you took a seat, trepidation hanging over you as you thought of how to fill the silence.
âGot a paper due?â you asked meekly.Â
âA digest, yeah.â
âCool, cool,â you said with a sip of your coffee.
âYou?â
âMe?â
âYour major.â
âGotcha. Iâm a nursing student.â
âHm. Younger.â
âWell, not that young,â you replied sheepishly.
âYoung enough.â
âI mean, itâs not like weâre ages apart,â you replied. âYouâre what, four years ahead?â
âFlattering, but no. Iâm 37,â she winced.Â
You almost spat out your coffee. âShut up.â
That made the corner of her lips lift a bit, and her face rose to look up at you instead of her work. The edge of her gaze stung less.
âYup, 37. Majored in Poli Sci. Left for a bit. Came back.â
âBut you lookâŚâ You pointed at all of her.
âYes?â
âAbsolutely not 37,â you said in awe, wrapped in a jest, but you caught yourself. Â
âIâm sorry.â You played it cool. âYouâre justâŚwow.â
She laughed a single melodious laugh, her nose scrunch more visible now. Then you noticed it â the lodged maturity in her laugh, the seriousness seeping through her smile as her face eased back into a composed smirk, the intensity in the corners of her eyebrow. Her brown gaze stabbed you, but you didnât mind.
âSo you do laugh.â
âI do. Unfortunately.â She released a short sigh, thought for a bit, and decided to shut her laptop. âKazuha.â
âItâs nice to meet you, Kazuha,â you offered your hand. She shook it firmly, but friendly.
âSo how do youâŚ?â you motioned up and down.
âExercise and diet. Mainly genetics, too. Arenât you supposed to be an expert on this, Nursing?â
âOh shut up. Youâre lucky I donât quiz you onâŚâ You leaned closer, tilted your head, and read off the spine of one of her books. ââŚtorts, obligations, and civil proceedings.â
âIâm sure I can handle it.â She sized you up.
âIâm sure I can handle it,â you repeated sarcastically.
âChrist, youâre a child,â she scoffed slightly.
âHey, a child you specifically chose to sit next to.â You pouted with false-surrendered hands. âPretty sure thatâs illegal.â You leaned back a bit.Â
Her gaze sliced down to your arms and back up to your eyes.
You relented immediately.
âObviously, Iâm kidding. Thank you for sitting here,â you said as you leaned back in towards her. This rewarded you with another laugh, the melody ringing in your ears as she chuckled.
âIâm 23,â you eased her mind.
She nodded with a slight smile. âAlright.â
âAlright?â
âAlright.â
Kazuha stowed her laptop, piled the cluttered paper, and stacked the uneven books. With a sling of her bag and a grip on her books, her tall frame stood before you, hips cocked to the side.Â
âNursing. 23.â She repeated your details back to you, seemingly memorizing and rehearsing the information. âIâll see you around then, 23. Enjoy the coffee.â The older woman pivoted and strode away, her heels tapping across cement.
Alright, you smile to yourself, satisfied. You took a sip of your coffee and finally dug into the croissant.Â
Kazuha sliced the back of your head with one last peek at you. You never noticed.
-
With a zip of your duffel bag, you neatly fold and store your scrub top and the casing of your stethoscope, ready to head out. Packing most of your things, you venture out of the clinic, eager to start that commute home. Your ID beeps at the employee monitor as you say goodbye to your clinical instructor, hoping to split before they have any âlast-minute tasksâ for you. With a dash across intersections, you quickly navigate past the rabble of people also rushing to head home. Like obstacles, the buzz of people filled your night commute; a group of teenagers on skateboards, similar college students probably on their 5th Red Bull, businessmen guffawing as they turn off work mode, and you â this aquamarine smear in a mosaic of muted clothes and the scattered bounces of car lights. Pulling out your phone, you cross off the last item of your to-do list and walk down the same street-lined shop, the last stretch before your commute.
You glance at the familiar shops, giving an occasional wave at the vendors youâve personally gotten to know while studying. You see Mr. Lee, resident loudmouth teokbokki monger, as he shouts out his low prices over his steaming boiler of rice cakes. Just further down, Mrs. Bang, the no-nonsense street food mogul and local grandmother of all, fans the coals just under sizzling skewers and tin-foiled sweet potatoes. Across Mrs. Bangâs side, the Kim brothers chase off young kids staying too late at their neon-highlighted computer gaming lounge. You chuckle a bit, staring at this picture of comfort. Miles and miles of pavement and hours of train tracks separate your college from your house, but walking down this lane has always felt like home.
You walk a few more meters and come up to Fors again, its human vibrance sheltered by its grayscaled exterior. The circular window, an amber eye staring back into city streets and cloudless nights. Words and conversations spill through the glass door, decoding long enough whenever the door opens for a customer and vanishing as quickly as it shuts.
You were never a cafe guy.
You take a few strides past Fors, walk the crossing, and stand just before the steps leading down into the subway and, eventually, home. Something gnawed at the back of your mind.
You were never a cafe guy.Â
You could go back now, just to check. No harm done.
You were never a cafe guy.
Itâs only a few steps. You check your wristwatch. 7:23. Two hours before the final train.
You were never a cafe guy.
You still had a lot of studying to do.
You were never a cafe guy.
You didnât even have any money left.
You were never a cafe guy.
And you never will be, if they didnât haveâŚthis.
Her hair is whimsical, flowing through the air in slow-motion curls and waves. A million love songs play as a part of her face, now comes into view. Her skin is bright and rose-cheeked and warmed by orange cafe beams, a stained-glass display of jaw-drop, devotion being the only appropriate response. Her lips are sweet and kind and lightly pouted, as if inviting a reply only lips can make. Her name flits from your mouth like a short kiss you never want to end, like those you make before leaving for work or wanting to stay in the moment. Cherubs softly sigh as she scans the room, gracing each customer with a momentary glimpse of herâ those split-seconds freeze as you find yourself actively trying to pause the world and the hands of time, just to commit the image to memory. Her eyes shatter the last of your inhibitions as you physically feel weak in her gaze. Daggers dig into your torso, then your face, your beating heart bleeding true onto your sleeves. Your chest rises and falls as you try to steady your breathing from the sprint back.
âHey,â you pipe up.
âHey.â Her smile twinkled in the sea of strangers, like faraway lights beckoning you to come close. A smirk rises from her lips as her wolf cut cascades down her cheeks. You notice something.
âHoop earrings.â
âWorking eyes.â Kazuhaâs scoff turns into a laugh as she turns her attention back to her books.
You come up to the empty seat across from her.
âTaken?â
Kazuha shrugs with a brow raised. âMaybe.â
Crap.
âReally?â You drop the bravado a bit, concerned.
She suddenly laughs, hand immediately coming up to cover her grin. She gestures with an open palm toward the empty seat.
You nod, pulling out the chair and taking a seat, face-to-face with Kazuha again. Well, face to book. A dark green leather-bound book with spidery gold lettering blocked her face from view â Environmental Law.
You lean back a bit, breathing finally evening out. Now, with you sitting down and thinking clearly, you realize the next step is unknown to you. She was right there, just a few feet from you, and yet the distance was canyon-like. You glance back down at your watch â 7:31. Maybe not too late to catch that train.
Her voice cuts through cafe conversation.
âSoâŚâ Environmental Law is lowered for a bit, her sharp eyes now coming into view. âYou ran all the way here just to see me?â
âJust to see you?â you echoed sheepishly. âNo, of course not. I was just, you know, walking. Then I realized I hadnât eaten yet. So, I wanted to grab a bite to eat before that train ride home. So, yeah,â you finish with a shrug.
âUh-huh.â Her eyes narrow for a bit as she scans you up and down. âYou beelined here, didnât you?â
You exhale and admit. âYeahâŚâ
A short giggle leaves her, but a smile stays. She closes up stupid Environmental Law and sets it aside, along with her other law books. She leans forward, her knit sweater accentuating her slim waist and graceful frame.
âAm I a bite to eat, 23?â Her voice suddenly takes on this sultry lowness. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you are hit by her sudden boldness and the obvious double entendre.
âNo! I just meaââ
Kazuha bursts out a quick chuckle, her hand waving it off as she makes light of the conversation. âJesus, chill out!â She smiles at you, satisfied with the jest.
âBut did you? Beeline here, I mean?â She asks again, her voice rising with a slight tone of hope. The contrast jarred you.Â
For how brief youâve known her, Kazuhaâs voice was markedly unique. Hers was a symphony made by madmen â confident, clear, contradicting. Her voice could be light and easy, with a small rise in pitch. But then, itâd have this surprisingly low quality to it, like a sudden flip of sentience and suave â and Kazuha seemed to abuse that switch.
âYouâre going to be dangerous, huh?â
âPretty much,â she says with sly eyes and a smirk.
-
âSo yeah, graduated, did ballet, hated it, got confused, then took time off.â
âMhmâŚyeah.â
âThen got back here to take up law finally.â
âYou liking itâŚ?â
âMmmâŚjust a bit lower, please.â Kazuhaâs fingers interlace in your hair, pushing you a bit lower, down her open legs.
You chuckle as you give a compensatory lick lower on her wetness, nearer her smooshed asscheeks. âI meant law,â you say in between pecks to her pussy lips and kisses to her smooth thighs propped up on your shoulders.
âFuck yes!â Her grip tightens when you hit a spot right at the crease of her ass, using your tongue for all its worth. âYeah, Iâm-Iâm liking it, yeah.â She giggles through strained breaths.
You hook your arm around her left thigh, come back down towards her pussy, and start rubbing the bud at the top of her splayed lips. Your tongue takes care of business nearer the entrance, lapping up the leaking lubricant.
âFuck, yeah, right there! Yes, yes, right there!â Kazuhaâs mouth widens as her neck arches to the ceiling of her quiet flat, her slender throat on display, moonlight streaking through her blinds, the strips of light dying to touch the scene.
You maintain the pace Kazuha liked, rubbing faster only at her clit. Heaven collapses onto you as her strong thighs smother you, the soft flesh clamping down the sides of your head.Â
âYouâre dripping.â You canât help but smile through suffocation.Â
âFor you,â Kazuha breathes out your name, caressing your head with surprising sweetness. âOh fuck!â You make me so wet.â
You grip her outer thighs, your fingers sinking into the plump skin, as you lower them from your head. Her pink pussy lips are spread for you, liquid still dripping down the ring of her ass. An idea pops into your head.
âShit! Yes!â Kazuhaâs head snaps back onto the pillow as your tongue trails from her asshole and up to her clit in one long, deep lick.Â
Your head finally comes into her view. âReally?â you coo, intrigued.
A laugh rises through her exhausted breath as she nods with a smile. âMhmâŚâ Her voice softens in erotic embarrassment.Â
You lean back down and, after a few more coaxes with your index and middle finger, her hips buck against your head as her sex twitches in orgasm. You drown in the erotic liquid and the salt in her sweat that was beading down her navel. You open your mouth wide, tongue flat in acceptance of the fruit of your hard work. The older womanâs legs wrap around your head, humping in response, as if trying to get another orgasm going.
With the added juices, you slide your tongue down her pussy lips and back onto her tight rim. She shrieks in delight with the repeated contact, the tip of your tongue circles and teasing entrance, baiting her for a bit before letting her cunt settle down from the high. You sit back up, satisfied with your work.
Kazuha lies there for a few moments, recollecting. Her tits bounce ever so slightly with each inhale and exhale. With a flick of a switch, her post-orgasm vulnerability vanishes, leaving only a deep need to retaliate. She rises to plant a few kisses on your neck before pulling you lower, her mouth now close to your ear.Â
âMy turn.â
She adeptly reverses your position, with you now lying down on your back, your bare chest and boxers subjected to her gaze. Kazuha straddles you, the tent in your underwear lightly touching her pussy.
With you now on the bottom, Kazuha leans down, her lips seeking a target. First, they land on your cheek. Then the side of your mouth. Your jaw. Ear. Jugular. Pecs. Her face stops near your now-hardened nipple, eyes staring back up at you. Her open mouth breathes warmth onto you. Your cock twitches visibly at the possibility, now straining even harder. This catches her attention. Her sharp gaze widens.
âReally?â She echoes.Â
Fuck.
You admit with a slow nod.
Her pink tongue slowly darts out, dragging across the hard nub.Â
Sparks fly immediately. You jerk in pleasure, your torso rising on instinct, inadvertently bumping your nipple back onto her tongue. You squirm in the unexpected gratification, your breathing quickens as you grip tighter on her pastel blue bed sheets.
Hunger consumes her now. Her mouth latches down onto your left nipple, tongue coating the sensitive nerve endings with slick saliva. She licks repeatedly, around the nub, alternating clockwise and counter. She releases you with an open-mouthed gasp, her tongue coming down to poke and flick the nub lightly and minutely, just enough for you to feel the stimulation â and ultimately crave more.
A neural pathway must have short-circuited because the words that came out of your mouth surprised even you.
âThe other one, too. PleaseâŚâ
After a few last licks, Kazuha smirks up at you. She kisses your left nipple one last time as she shifts a bit, eager to focus her attention on your other erect bud. Saliva coats your right nipple now, Kazuha working hard to keep it moist. Seemingly satisfied, she now blows a cold breath onto it.
âKazuhaâshit!â Your abdomen flexes in response to the cool feeling. Your fingers find her hair, tightening and coiling a few strands before loosening. âSorry,â you whisper.
âItâs alright,â she whispers back, a comforting smile manifests on her cheeks. âYou feel good?â Her gaze is a different kind of sharp now â less edge, more eager. Less cut, more care.
You nod back, letting her continue. And she does. She brings her index and middle finger to your mouth now, eyes wide with this concentrated gaze, lashes batting and beckoning for you to give in.
You open up a bit, her fingers now brushing against your lips. Her lithe fingers dance around your tongue, sliding and slipping, making sure you taste her skin. Without breaking eye contact, she brings out her now-wet fingers and places them back on your left nipple. She traces circles around the center, cutting across occasionally, rubbing your nipple for you. You squirm again, the nerve endings overloaded with the pleasurable stimuli, your body needing to do something to try and regain control. But Kazuha was everything â consent and control. She coaxed and cooed whenever she tried new things, making sure you were alright with it. But the moment you said yes, her disposition steeled. She would fixate on those boundaries she could cross and punish you for it, building you up for your eventual breaking down.
With her fingers focusing on your left nipple, you finally see her plan: her mouth latches onto your nipple on the right. Surges of electricity course through your chest and up your spine, wetness now coating both of the nubs. You curse out in pleasure as you feel the onslaught of sensation, Kazuha pushing and driving you further. She giggles at your response, and you feel her mouth curl into a smile as she licks and sucks at your areola. Your hard dick flexes painfully, begging, pleading, for release as it strains against your boxers. Kazuha looks up at you with an erotic open mouth, her tongue flicking your nipple. Her eyes dart to your cock and back to you, debating whether to give you a journey into that one last frontier youâve been wishing sheâd venture to.
âShould I?â Her low voice inquires in faux apprehension.
Not able to take it anymore, you snap. âKazuha, you fucking better,â you whisper.
She laughs in surprise, gasping at your boldness. Her eyes sharpen for a moment, but glaze over with this newfound warmth. Kazuha leans over, her gorgeous features becoming clearer. She lowers and gives you a sweet kiss, lips pressing against yours firmly, but not hungrily. The sentiment of the kiss caught you off guard, but you reciprocated. You close your eyes and let yourself go.
A few seconds deep into the liplock, Kazuha pulls back. Like magnets, your lips chase and follow her, both of you now sitting up, with her on your lap. You stare at her face again, this beauty staring back at you in the middle of her muted apartment. Once again, those seconds play in slow motion. The curl of her hair stops mid-fall; the blanket flows off her waist like linen waterfalls; her lips, like sweet fruit, accent the light pink tinge of her cheeks. Her body was on yours, graceful, toned, and fragile. Youâve begun hoarding those moments.
Her thumb caresses your cheek, and the world resumes its turning.
âHey, you okay?â Her voice is sultry, sweet, almost a soft squeeze on your shoulder.
You hold her hand and rub her palm for a bit. âI canât help but try and memorize every detail of your faceâŚâ You trail off.
âEh?â she squeaks, her voice high now. She shifts back a bit. Much to your dismay, you sense the warmth in her fade a tad, that stinging facade of the Fors cafe girl flooding back in just a smidge.
âNo, I just meantâ Youâre beautiful,â you stammer through, trying to save the conversation from, well, whatever it was you were trying to save it from. âFrom when I saw you the first time, you were just soâ â
âGod, shut up.â
Her lips collide with yours. You feel her smile through the kiss as her lower lip lightly bites yours. âJust lie back down, okay?â Kazuha says, with a flat palm, lowering you back onto the mattress.
Her nails run down lightly on your sternum and down to your stomach, your abs tightening suddenly at the mix of tingles and sensuality. Her fingers stop at the band of your boxers, just a few inches from the large tent, aggressively trying to find much-needed contact from Kazuhaâs anything at this point. She hooks both thumbs as you also lift your hips a bit, helping her remove the last roadblock to your sexual resolution.
Your cock stands proudly, throbbing and flexing for the older woman, putting on a show so she could finally touch the whole you. You stare at Kazuha, her lips coming to a pout, eyebrows rising as she evaluates your length. You gulp.
âRelax. Itâs bigger than I thought.â Kazuha croons. âBiggest Iâve had,â she mutters under her breath, quiet enough to escape you.
She wraps her fingers around the tense muscle, her cool skin grasping and pumping it slowly. Kazuha watches you, observing every squint, twitch, and groan she can make you perform for her. You moan out her name in weakness, the vowels slipping off your tongue like honey. With a quick swoop, both your lips reunite, her tongue slipping inside to tangle with yours. You share a hot breath as Kazuha pulls back, her nose nuzzles yours for a bit before she dives back in to make out with you. With a sigh, she pushes against you, kissing harder as she grows more insatiable, before peppering smooches down your neck and back onto your right nipple. Her tongue comes out, flicking at it once more before going to your other nipple. Her mouth licks in a constant circle while her other hand lies across your chest, finding your erect right nipple. Your head pounds from the overstimulation â a tongue and a hand on your sensitive pecs, her smooth left palm jerking your length, and a pair of eyes that stare up at you as you go insane. Waves upon waves of signals and zings course through your brain and spine, tingling and rushing through your veins as you grow increasingly numb and sensitive at the same time. You stiffen up unconsciously, puffing your chest and giving Kazuha more space to wreak havoc. You feel simultaneous wet corkscrews from both her tongue and her precum-lubricated hand.
Then, for whatever fucking reason, Kazuha speeds up.
âZuha! Wait!â you croak with weak knees. A tightness starts in your abdomen and starts rising at the base of your steaming length. You buck erratically into Kazuhaâs palm as she pumps you relentlessly. The pleasure builds, you feel this tightening in your core as you breathe quicker now.
âZuha, please!â you manage to moan out, but the older woman jerks you off anyway. Her palm travels your length, squeezing and twisting, stopping just at the tip, and starting back down at the base. With quick strokes, you feel your orgasm building and rumbling along your length.
Then, nothing.
A pit forms in your stomach as your eyes widen, taking in a motionless Kazuha with a stupid, teasing, edging smirk. âWait, no, fuck! Zuha, you canât do thiââ
Her warm, silky mouth suddenly plunges on your thick length, tongue slipping down your shaft and reaching the base in one smooth stroke. With a quick maneuver, Kazuha lies between your spread knees, hands reaching up to stimulate your chest one last time before you eventuallyâŚ
âFuck!â You unknowingly grip Kazuhaâs hair tighter as you slam her mouth deeper onto your meat, her nose meeting your navel. Your cock releases a shot of cum into her mouth, the pressure immediately releasing and gratifying. You hear a slight audible gag as your cock keeps going, dumping and firing off strands of white into her (very receptive) throat and pink tongue. Kazuha bobs for a few moments, making sure to pump every last rope out of you, before releasing your cock from the caverns of her mouth.
Kazuha sits back as she angles her face slightly upward. Her erotic clavicle and neck flex for a bit as she gulps down your seed. She sighs after swallowing, tired and satiated, for now.
The once-spinning apartment has now slowed to a stop, the blue bed and the ravishing woman now clear instead of a sex-hazed blur. Kazuha tucks a stray lock behind her ear, her eyes satisfied with the hurdles she just put you through. Your head collapses back down onto her pillow, sweat soaking just under your chin and neck.
The sheets crinkle and fold as Kazuha plops herself beside you to your left, your two naked bodies touching shoulder to shoulder.
You turn your head to look at her. She looks back.
âSoâŚâ she begins. âZuhaâs new.â
âHey, you try moaning out a three-syllable name,â you retort.
âOh, Kazuha! Fuck, yes, yes, Kazuha!â she yelps out suddenly, eyes closing in dramatized pleasure as your eyes widen. Her face returns to normal as she playfully shrugs. âNot so bad to me.â
You push her shoulder. âYouâre so dumb.â
She squeals, laughing at you, her voice taking on a new pitch and decibel. Her eyes smile at you, a blade sheathed momentarily.
âI like it, though. âZuhaâ.â She repeats the nickname, testing it out for herself and being satisfied.
You canât help but beam. âOkay then.â
-
You stir awake to the sound of the bedroom door closing. Your eyes focus for a bit, taking in Kazuhaâs apartment walls. A plant in the corner. Pictures of friends on a desk nearby. Pastel blue living room.
Kazuha smirking in the doorway.
She wore classy cat eye sunglasses perched atop her forehead, her round eyes visible and scanning. A pair of pearl earrings glint slightly in the panel of Sunday sunlight streaming through the window. She wore high-waist jeans, a simple white shirt, a brown wool cardigan, and boots. She held a cardboard cup holder, two coffee cups in stow â Fors coffee cups â and a paper bag with the cafe logo in her other hand.
You, on the other hand, were still naked, comfortably under her covers.
âYouâre up early.â You rub your eyes for a bit.
âItâs 10.âÂ
You whip around to find your phone. 10:07. You text back home that you were fine. Your gaze lowers to the coffee in her hand. She catches it.
âYeah, figured Iâd do something nice for you while you were knocked out.â Kazuha shrugs sarcastically, stepping away from the door and into the hallway leading to her living room.
âThanks!â you call out.
âJust get dressed! I donât want crumbs on my bed.â
You sigh a few more times, streaks of the midnight adventure seeping through your closed eyelids. You canât help but smile, your heart feeling heavier and fuller.Â
This thing with Kazuha? It was thrilling. But at the same time, waking up in her apartment for the first time was calm and still â it was certain. Your heart races, not for the chase or the âgameâ, but for the serenity of something stable.Â
You hold yourself back a bit. This has to be superficial, you think. Who wouldnât be infatuated with a natural beauty taking an interest? Youâve literally only known her for a day.
But youâll be damned if you donât try and stretch that into years.
You rise out of bed, slip on your boxers, and look around for your shirt. You rifle through your bag and through some of Kazuhaâs clothes from last night â still nothing.
âYou must really like cold coffee, huh?â Kazuha pipes up from the living room, impatient but teasing.
You sigh, walking out into the hallway, shirtless, bashfully covering yourself.
It didnât take long for you to see exactly where the shirt went. You see Kazuha facing away from you, fiddling with her microwave, wearing your white shirt. It hung low on her frame, hugging her shoulders but flowing loosely down, giving her a boxy sort of look. Your eyes trail down the shirt and see her legs, extending gracefully. Kazuha was a tall woman, taller than average, standing just a few inches below you, but her legs went on for miles. Her hips curved sensually, followed by those strong thighs that wrapped around your head previously, then her smooth calves, all the way down to her feet. Her hips were cocked again, the swell of her ass accentuated by her black panties, as she was preoccupied with the appliance.
âYou had pants on a while ago.â
âPerceptive.â She snorts. âMore comfortable this way.â
You hear a metallic clang and the closing of a microwave door. The appliance beeps, its internal timer being set before a constant drone picks up as it stirs to life.
âI expected shorts but notâŚâ You canât help but ogle the curves of her thighs as they transition to her legs. You slightly drool at the sight.Â
âStop staring and take a seat.â She tilts her head to look back, her eyes meeting yours.
You scoot over to her kitchen area, taking a seat on the corner nearest a window. On the table are the two coffees she bought from Fors, you take off their tops, trying to discern which one was yours. You place the latte near you and Kazuhaâs americano on her side of the table. With a ping from the microwave, Kazuha brings a tray over â two croissants. She plops the pastries in the middle of the table, taking a seat across from you. You stare at her a bit before deciding to inch your chair closer to her side. You were now sitting to her left.
âThereâs enough room for both of us, câmon.â She bumps your shoulder playfully.
âI know. Just wanted to be closer.â You shrug, sheepishly.
âYouâre a sap.â She chuckles briefly as she nudges the tray of croissants.
âThanks, Zuha.â You lean over to try to kiss her cheek.
She clicks her tongue as your lips land on her palm instead. âEat.â
âBossy.â
âInsisting,â she corrects.
You pick up a croissant, take a bite of the flaky pointed end, place it back on the tray, and chew in front of her.Â
âHappy?â you ask through munches.
âJesus, just eat!â she whines with a small laugh, hitting you on your shoulder.
âYou donât really talk much, huh?â you say with a sip of coffee.
âYou donât really stay quiet much, huh?â Her nose scrunches as she acts irritated.
âNot in my nature. Learned that a long time ago.â You shrug.
She sighs as she looks into your eyes, a small smirk plastered on her face. âI rarely talk to people, let alone have breakfast with them. So I stay quiet most of the time.â
âSo, is this a first for you?â
âNot exactly. JustâŚthe first time in a long while.â
âI see.â You tap your fingers a bit on her table. A few silent seconds pass. But you canât help yourself. âHowâre you liking it so far?â
âYouâre really annoying, do you know that?â She replies snarkily.
âWow, tell me how you really feel. Am I right?â you chuckle, poking her side a bit.
âAnd youâre really stupid.â
âThat I can accept a bit.â
She laughs at you, her hand reaching up to cup your cheek. Instinctively, it seems.
âBut,â Kazuha thinks hard for a bit. ââŚyouâre charming,â she finishes honestly.
Your chest pounds as her hand comes into contact with the side of your face. Your stomach feels full, butterflies fluttering and drifting up your throat, trying to crawl out of your mouth in the form of stutters and stammers. Your brain kicks into overdrive again, trying to encode the sight before you.Â
Her nose was adorable, the folds on her bridge on the verge of scrunching. The corner of her lips rose, a smirk about to form again. Her lashes batted, as her eyes were softer now, their edge now an old friend you dare not reunite with.
Kazuha senses what you were doing; her nose now actually scrunches in amusement before smoothing, like reflex suppressed. She rolls her eyes and averts her gaze as she scoffs, a hint of light pink appearing on her cheeks. Her hand lowers from your cheek, landing back on the table, near her coffee cup.
âSoâŚâ you cough a bit. âI thought you hated ballet.â You nod across the kitchen, motioning towards a wall in the living room. On it, hung a picture of a younger Kazuha, mid-pirouette.
Kazuha follows your gaze and clicks her tongue. âAh. Yeah. I think itâs all Iâve ever known, and I donât really have any other pictures.â A somber quality to her voice reached you.
âWhyâd you do it, anyway?â
âWell, my father was a prestigious man.â Kazuha puts on a fake gruff voice. âOnly the best for my little girl. The best schools, the best clothes, the best lessons. It was either the best or nothing at all.â Kazuha laughs it off, but continues. âI liked it at first. Then, I got confused. Did I like it? Or did my dad like it, so I liked it too? Maybe decided I didnât like it. Told him about it. He obviously wasn't happy. We stop talking. I moved away. Next thing I know, Iâm back here, all dressed in black, staring at his casket being lowered.â
Shame fills you. âOh no, Zuha. Shit, Iâm sorry. I didnât even mean toâŚâ You wrap an arm around her, and her head rests on your shoulder.
âNo, I know. Itâs alright.â Her voice stiffens a bit, trying to play it tough. âItâs just not really a conversation over coffee.â
You nod silently as your thumb strokes her shoulder.
Kazuha blurts out, the moroseness in her now absent. âI was close to getting married once.â
âExcuse me?â you gasp, shock evident in your voice.
âI know, right? Had a ring too!â she lays her palm flat, staring at the bare space the ring used to inhabit. âBut stuff happened, so I donât really go for that anymoreâ the commitment thing.â Her voice softens as she trails off.Â
âOh.âÂ
A few awkward minutes pass by without a word being uttered.Â
Your heart beats a little bit faster, nervous and ashamed, for even yearning a little bit. Her eyes wander upwards, trying to catch your expression.Â
âHey, look, this wasââ
You cut her off. âSo! You like croissants too?â you cough, bypassing that conversation for now. You prod at both of your croissants with a fork.
Kazuha pouts but nods slowly. âUh, yeah. Croissants, pastries, bread, in general.â Kazuha eyes you but plays along, her voice sullen now.
Given where you are in your life now, youâve always appreciated honesty. Playing social games has been a pain, so to speak, and youâve always made it a point to be clear. Now, you reassess.
So you nod.
And then you sigh.
And then you speak up.
âLook, Kazuha. ThisâŚâ You motion to both of you. âDonât you want to try?â
Kazuha breathes deeply, the conflict obvious in her brows. âDating?â
âWe donât have to go out all the time! Iâve got school, I know youâve got law. We can just, yâknow, hang outâ like see each other at the end of the day.â
âButââ
âAnd, Iâll respect your time. If you just wanna stay here and not meet up, Iâll understand.â
With pursed lips, Kazuha slightly nods, still trying to think about the proposition.
âWhat about the sex?â she inquires innocently, despite the subject matter.
âOh. No, no, we donât have to. Iâm fine without it.â
Kazuha stifles a laugh, a smile coming back to her cheeks, her face brightening now.Â
âYouâll be fine without it?â she says with a roll of her eyes, a brow sharply rising now.
You blush suddenly. âI mean, yeah. I donât want to pressure you.â
âYou really are a sap,â Kazuha confirms. There was a certain sweetness to her voice, like a slow realization of you.
Her face is a few inches from yours. Youâre still shoulder-to-shoulder. The seconds tick by as millennia. You study her face in the pause.
Her eyebrows.
Thatâs what made her gaze so sharp. Those eyebrows that furrow, arch, or dip with every expression passing through her. Theyâre angled when sheâs thinking, pointed when sheâs scoffing, and rounded whenever her nose scrunches. Together with her eyes, her brows complete her blade.
The ambient sounds of Kazuhaâs flat unwarp as temporal flow is restored. Her eyes move minutely across your face, and you feel small cuts on your lip.
âWhat is it?â you whisper.
âIâm worse, yâknow, when we become closer. You just donât know me yet,â she whispers back.
âGive me a chance to then.â
Your lips meet again that morning in her flat.
-
A week passes by after that day. Then a month. And then three. And, true enough, youâve consistently met up with Zuha. Youâd catch up with her after her classes, sheâd sometimes wait after you clocked out, or youâd just stop by her flat. Youâve settled into that familiar routine, taking into account your commute time and all that. Although you have spent many a night at Zuhaâs place, too, when she points out how youâll only be cramped in that train ride (albeit while her lips are on you). But, all in all, Zuha was a part of your day.
And yet, she remained mysterious.
Youâve been observing her on the days you spent time together in her apartment. And, honestly, you felt perplexed.Â
Zuha was the type of person who had this cold exterior, especially when it came to her studies, but at the same time bawled over her 7th watch of The Lion King (getting through Mufasaâs death was always a trip through all the stages of grief).Â
Sheâd keep all her notes and digests organized, but sheâd highlight like a maniac afterward â a mosaic of colors, lines, arrows, offshoot notes, and tangent case references. It was incomprehensible, but Kazuha would read them and judge you for not understanding.Â
Sheâd shut down most jokes you make, rebutting and parrying with a deadpan expression, but then sheâd drop a few dad jokes, grin sweetly, and then assert that sheâs just funnier than you.
Sheâs clumsy, but only once. Sheâs precise in a way that ensures she wonât make the same mistake twice. She mispronounces words, looks them up on Google, and then she practices. She overcooks a dish, tries again angrily, and then proudly serves it when she gets it right. She knocks over furniture sometimes, but then arranges them in a way that allows her to perform chaĂŽnĂŠs across her apartment.Â
Which brings you to ballet.Â
Each movement of hers seemed like a calculated performance. An afternoon at hers was a quiet recital just for you. Youâd see ballet in everything she did â the way sheâd gracefully bend to pick up a dropped spoon, or the way her lines extend when you stare at her putting on jeans, or the way sheâd unscrunch her nose and tuck a strand of hair neatly behind her ear. Youâve been wondering whether she still likes ballet. Youâd watch her and just be stuck.
Sheâd catch you staring sometimes, too. You felt it whenever you got cut. She would raise an eyebrow, a small, confused smirk forming. Then a roll of the eyes. A rare middle finger. But most commonly a blush.
Was the age gap between you and her apparent? Surprisingly no. Both of your personalities jived, and Zuha never made a point of talking down to you, and you always respected her whenever she knew something you didnât. Being with her was refreshing. She had an impulsiveness about her that was such a thrill ride, but then youâd also have these deeply meaningful conversations that went on for ages. She was the perfect woman, in addition to being the perfect girlfriend.
And, youâve had girlfriends before, but it was always the high school crash-and-burn ones. It was never a âgo straight to their place after school to cook dinnerâ type. I mean, youâve never even introduced anybody to your parents.
Not until your 10th night staying over at Zuhaâs flat.
-
âYou never told us it was a girl!â Your mom squealed on the other side of the video call. All this time, youâve told her youâre staying over at a friendâs but never bothered to specify a girl. But then, Zuha accidentally walked behind you a few minutes ago, her feminine form obvious through the video. Your mom was now seated and audibly excited.
From the background, you hear your dad laugh. âSo thatâs where heâs been!â
âYes, okay, sheâs a girl. But thatâs enough! Iâm just staying over here to bypass the stupid commute times!â You whine, uncharacteristically.Â
Zuha sat in front of you and to the right, sitting just outside of the phoneâs view.
âRemember when you kept sneaking in to stay over, âhon?â Your mom sighs, reminiscing.
âYeah, we were around his age then, too, âhon,â your parents laugh. Zuha is dying, her stomach flexing as she giggles silently.
âWell, where is she? Show her to us!â Your mom whines, insisting.
âOh, I donât know, Mom. Sheâs kinda buââ
âWait!â Zuha protests, suddenly and swiftly walks over behind the couch to lean over your shoulder. Her face now comes into view and on camera.
âOh, honey. She is gorgeous.â Your mom gasps in shock. âWow.â
Zuha giggles lightly and greets your parents respectfully.
Your dad now walks over, puts an arm around your mom, and chuckles. âKazuha, please, drop the honorifics. At this point, weâre just glad youâre our sonâs girlfriend. Welcome to the family!â
You fake a yawn. âO-kay, guys! Itâs getting pretty late, we should probablyââÂ
âNo! I want to keep talking to them!â Zuhaâs voice rises, her pearly whites widely on display as she teases you. Her nose scrunches momentarily. You mentally take note of it.
You hear defiant cries from your phone, too.
âChrist, fine, fine!â You hand your phone and walk over to the kitchen to prepare a side dish. Zuha stays behind, entertaining your folks with a couple of stories about you. After having their fill, their conversations shift from you to her: where she came from, her childhood, her hobbies, and then finally, ballet.Â
Your ears (and your parents') perk up as soon as you hear Zuha talking about her old ballet school, how strict the recitals were, and how dedicated her classmates were. You feel the tinge of joy Zuha had for ballet, and you couldnât help but gush at her passion. You hear your parents exclaim as they look up Zuha on their cellphones, surprised to see how much of a slight celebrity Zuha is.Â
And it was true, shortly after your first morning together, you looked her up. And, real enough, Zuha had her own Wikipedia page and YouTube videos with thousands of views. She was an astonishing performer. Her lines were clean, graceful, and full of training. Interestingly, youâd also sometimes catch her watching her old recitals. Sheâd tuck them away whenever you got close, laughing shyly, so you never really got around to asking her about it.
So, conversation aside, you had to focus on dinner. You fix up a small salad for a few minutes and set it down on the table beside the sukiyaki Zuha cooked. You motion over to her, she nods, and says goodbye to your parents, handing you back your phone before sitting down at the table. You check back on the video call.
âAlright, guys, youâve terrorized me enough.â You joke.
âSheâs a keeper, honey.â Your mom whispers sweetly.
You look up from your phone and see Zuha preparing a plate for you first, oblivious to what your mom just said.
âI know, Mom. She is.â Your heart swells.
âOkay then, just text us every time youâll stay over there, alright?â
âMhm, I will. I promise.â
âAnd use protection!â Your dad calls out in the background.
âGo to bed, Dad!â
The video ends, and you awkwardly chuckle, tucking away your phone. Zuha inches her chair closer to the table, waiting for you.
âSo.â You finally take a seat in front of Zuha.
âSo.â
âDid you hear any of that?â You wince a bit.
âHear what?â
You shake your head as you release a sigh, laughing at the whole situation. âIâm sorry, Zuha. They just get excited from time to time.â
âOh no, donât be. Theyâre cute. They really love you.â
âYeah, I do too,â you say, satisfied. âThanks for being kind to them.â
âOf course.â She lets go of her fork for a bit to take your hand, her thumb rubbing your outer palm.
After a few silent stares, both of you start eating, eager to just dig in and finally head to bed.
The older woman pipes up suddenly, mouth half full. âGotta say sorry to your dad, though.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âOh. âCause we wonât use protection tonight.â
-
Your relationship had its ups and downs, too, no doubt about that. Youâd argue, but she had her ways, and you had your own ways of ensuring it never got too out of hand (Bread. It was bread.) or too long (Not going to bed mad, and all that).Â
Fighting was normal. Fighting with Zuha, however, was not. Fighting with Zuha was hard. When she knew she was right (and that was most of the time), she was bulletproof. She was stubborn, argumentative, and smug. Sheâd have these three absolutely solid main points, a dozen supporting statements, and a recommendation or two on how you could change your behavior. It was incredible, really, peeling back a layer to envision how she was in her classes.
Youâd try arguing back, but she was quicker. A stern ânoâ and youâd immediately fold. You couldnât get a word in, even if you tried.Â
Which made you really savor those moments you were right.
-
So, the crux of the problem was that Zuha thought you were, and you quote, âat times too taciturn, apprehensive, and slow to moveâ, end quote.
âI told you to see to it already. Did you listen? No. You never do.â She rolled her eyes but remained planted in front of you, arm crossed, eyebrows jagged and sharp as ever.
âOkay, Zuha, thatâs a bit unfair. I swear, I gave them to you. I bought them, then gave them to you right after.â
âAbsolutely not. If I had them, then we'd already be there in the damn cinema!â
Yes, this argument was about tickets. To an animated movie. About talking animals.
âNo! Iâm absolutely sure I gave them to you. I triple checked those tickets, Zuha. I know how much you looked forward to the movie, so I made sure not to mess up.â
âSo where are the tickets, then?â
âZuha, I donât know. I gave them to you, and thatâs the last time I saw them.â
âThe absolute negligence.â She muttered to herself, shaking her head and walking toward the other side of the living room.
âHey, câmon. We can just stream it. Iâm sure a couple of pirate sites already have it up. Letâs calmââ
You heard the metallic hum of her gaze being unsheathed. âCalm down? You wanna run that by me again?â
âShutting up.â You mumbled.
With a few careful strides and a sidestep, you avoided the fuming area that is Zuha and got to the bedroom. Looking to lie down for a bit and just zone out, you hauled the large clothes pile that Zuha always kept cluttered. You grabbed a couple of shirts and blouses, set aside the heavy leather coats, and hung a couple of the jeans and trousers she had worn in the past few days.
Then, something fell out.
You hung the jeans by the belt loop and looked around. And there it was. On the carpeted floor.
Two obviously-folded movie tickets. From her pants. Your face melted into a smile as memories of the day you gave it to her flooded back.
âZuha!â
âWhat?â A shout.
âCome here for a minute.â
You heard her steps bounding down the hall.
Her eyebrows were weaponized, her graze fresh off the grindstone.
âLook what I found.â You sat on the bed, leaned, and crossed your arms. Smug.
Her blade swung wide and almost caught your neck. But they landed on the tickets on the floor.
âNow, for my cross-exam, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, could you tell me what those are?â
Zuha was frozen speechless, her tongue poking the side of her cheek now. âYou donât cross-examine the jury, smart ass.â
You clicked your tongue a few times. âZip it, Nakamura. I have the floor. Now what, pray tell, are those you see on the floor? Are they movie tickets?â
âYou could have put those there toââ
âNow, now, if I remember correctly,â you put on a fake, wondering tone amidst your lawyerly bravado, âyou must only respond with a yes or a no during the cross-examination.â
She scoffs, eyes darting around the room. âYes, theyâre movie tickets.â
âAnd those pants are yours, correct?â
âYes.â She grumbles.
âSo were you, or were you not, the latest recipient of said tickets?â
Silence.
âMs. Nakamura, Iâm gonna need an answer from you.â
âUgh, fine! Fine, fine! I had them last then. Itâs my fault we couldnât go.â
âNo further questions, Your Honor.â You took a bow at the four walls of her room and the imaginary spectators of your stupendous legal victory.
You poked Zuha in the side. âHowâs that?â
âIâm giving it to you this once.â
âGiving what?â
âThe satisfaction of proving me wrong.â
You reveled in the honor. âChrist.â You took a step back, letting the privilege sink in. âThis is the best day of my life.â
âYeah, yeah, Iâll get you next time.â
âIs this what law schoolâs like? Itâs kinda easy, donât you think?â
âAlright. I take it back. Youâre done. Shut the fuck up.â Her voice was harsher now.
âShutting up.â
âSit down.âÂ
âYes, Maâam.â The satisfaction was stripped away instantaneously. Your obedience and your âtaciturnityâ were now the most salient parts of you once again.
Standing in front of you, Zuha placed both hands on your shoulders, locking eyes with you.
âZ-Zuha?â You gulped.
âLook. Iâm sorry for calling you negligent. Or that you donât listen. Thatâs not true.â
Your hands found her waist on instinct, rubbing her sides sweetly. âHey. Thatâs alright. I know you really wanted to catch that movie.â
âLet me make it up to you, then.â Her fingers trailed along the length of your arms and stopped at your knees. With her eyes fixed on yours, she got on her knees, tantalizingly slow, positioning herself between your legs. Her hands crept up and down your thigh, feeling the soft material of your baggy shorts. Eventually, her palms wound up in between your legs, settling on your clothed bulge, growing and stiffening.
Fighting with her was hard. But you were right where you wanted to be.
-
To add on to your list of perplexities, Zuha was a total freak despite the exceptional discipline she exhibits when it comes to studying, cooking, or any other area in life. Hell, she was even more adventurous than you. (But to be fair, you were pretty vanilla, so the bar is already low.) You were already pretty exploratory, letting her do the nipple thing, but then Zuha took it further.
It started with a few slaps on her ass, then the occasional âput a finger in itâ from her, and then your tongue. But now, most of the time you go out with her ends up in âalleyway ass-playâ, as you refer to it in your mind.Â
When the mood struck her, youâd know. She was unbelievably teasing with it too â a small raise in her eyebrow, pupils darting to an unseen corner, a bump of her shoulder. Then sheâd amp it up with a small kiss on your cheek, nails lightly digging into your bicep, deep whiffs around your neck, or, if unheard, a moan of your name. Then, with discreet shuffles, youâd be on your knees, tongue worshipping Zuhaâs ass.Â
You figured you must have been totally whipped, always letting her reach orgasm and delaying yours until you guys got home. But every time, youâd still put an arm around her and kiss the top of her head sweetly. It was Zuha â of course, it was fine.
-
For example, this one time, you waited outside the Law building, tucking your clinical notes inside a clipboard to prepare for tomorrowâs case presentations. You adjusted your scrub pants a bit, allowing your top to finally untuck. You heaved a sigh, a 12-hour shift evident in the ache of your shoulders and neck. You rubbed your eyes and did a few stretches, willing the fatigue to leave your body before Zuha sees you. With a few minutes left before 5:30, you finally sat down on the building steps with your back to the door, eyes heavy with sleep (or lack thereof).
With a scuffle and the sound of metal turning, you heard the conversations of the law students finally seeping through. An onslaught of corporate attire swarmed you â heels clacked, oxfords tapped, ties swished, and pants swooped. Future lawyers, entranced in their own legal world, threw around jargon, judicial loopholes, and jurisprudence issues, all while flowing down the steps. They courteously gave you a wide berth (probably resonating with that same tired look you had) as you waited for Zuha. The flock thinned out soon enough as the remaining stragglers trailed off away from the steps. You looked around, slightly worried, as the campus became increasingly sparse. But, with your feet weighing a million, you stayed sitting for a few more peaceful minutes.
âYou better not be falling asleep.â
Zuha.
You stood up to turn around, following her voice. The ache in your joints dissipated instantaneously as your pulse quickened.
â'Cause I definitely canât carry you home.â
There she was.
She stood at the top of the steps, with a strong amount of swagger, wearing this deep blue three-piece suede suit. She wore black tapered high-heeled boots, accentuating her long, slender stature. Her fair skin glowed with the contrast of the suitâs color, making her presence literally illuminating. Her neck was fully on show, ditching the traditional collared polo top and only wearing the blue vest. Her nails were colored a dark red, beautifully manicured and shaped, as her hand lay on her cocked hip. Her eyes twinkled alongside her earrings, like stars beginning to show in the waning sun. And her brow, proudly raised and basking in your jaw drop and ogle. Her silhouette was sharp, slender, and confident, armed with her sling bag and a clipboard containing the structure of her defense.
The surge of law students prior has been erased from your memory; they could never compare with what you were seeing. You continued to stare, speechless, but remembering â encoding. Zuha did tell you about the mock trial and how they all had to dress formally to simulate real court proceedings, but you never expectedâŚthis. You swooned internally, feeling weak in the knees and in her gaze.
Zuha scoffed playfully, shooting a finger gun. âHey. I take it youâre speechless? I know, I know, I clean up pretty nice, if I do say so myseââ
âYouâre breathtaking.â
Her eyes widened as she stopped fronting. A blush crept up her neck and on her cheeks. She tucked a stray hair back behind her ears.Â
âOh. I mean, I was just kiddingâŚâ Zuha trailed off.
âNo, I mean it.â You climbed up one step closer. âYouâre absolutely breathtakingâŚâ
You felt cuts across your body and your face as Zuha stared back, shy and nervous and on guard.
âCome on, it was just the makeup. And these clothes were really just lying around unused.â She excused herself.
âZuha.â
âPlus, you see me all the time. Without all the makeup and the jewelry and all that.â Her eyes avoided your gaze now as you stood with her atop the steps.
âZuha.â
âWhatâŚ?â She spoke in a small voice, seemingly terrified of what you had to say â the confident law student, mortified at the notion.
âI mean it. You really areâ and not just today, but all the time.â You cupped her cheek. âI am so in love with you.â
Zuha breathed out, glassy eyes taking you in, a pout suddenly forming. After a beat, she finally leaned in to kiss you, crumpling your shirt to pull you in. You kissed back, holding both sides of her face as she hummed in glee. Her hands trailed up to your shoulders, criss-crossing just behind your neck as you pulled her closer by the waist now, deepening the kiss. You felt her lips curve into a smile as she pulled back slightly to stare at you, her gaze soft and sweet.
Zuha whispered out a joke. âSo this is all it took for you to kiss me like that, huh?â
âI mean, youâre gorgeous all the time.â You chuckled and planted a peck on her lips. âBut yeah, you look great in that suit. Jesus.â
âHey.â Her thumb brushed along your cheek. âI appreciate you. I know Iâm weird with affection, but Iâm trying. Itâs okay when itâs you.â
You smiled lightly as you held her gaze. âIâm yours, Zuha. No way around it.â You shrugged.
She leaned in again, and you pursed your lips on instinct. But this time, she tilted your head down, planting a kiss on your forehead. You blushed at the unfamiliar gesture as you coughed awkwardly.
âSo howâd the trial go?â You asked Zuha as you both finally stepped down and away from the Law building, your arms linking.
âYeah, it went great! We all had a chance to speak before the bar, and it all went smoothly. My notes really came in handy with the defense, what with all the different cases I got to reference.â
Zuha then went off on a tangent on how the mock trial works and how theyâd be scored. She brought up different parts of the courtroom and what role they played in legal proceedings, how a cross-examination was supposed to be done, and why technicalities are basically bulletproof if a law hasnât been amended yet. You nodded along to her voice, half listening and half swooning as her lips moved.
ââŚso we really had no choice but to call for a short recess just to finally get the defense straight.â Zuha finally finished.
Zuha lagged for a moment, quietly registering what you said. Then she bumped your shoulder appreciatively. âThanks. Iâm really liking it, too.â
Both of you finally reached a T-junction, with the road extending on both your left and right. A few convenience stores lined the street as the nightlife started to grow.
âDid you want to eat something before we go? Or just share the pint of ice cream we have at home?â
âThat pint sounds kinda tempting, but thatâs not dinner. Hey, I thought you were Mr. Health Guy, out here making peopleâs lives healthier?â She chided with a smile, poking at your scrub pants.
âHey, Iâm off the clock!â You whined.
Zuha thought for a moment, but her eyes ultimately landed back on you. Something was off.
âHey, did you really like this suit?â She raised an eyebrow slightly.
âOf course. It fits you perfectly, Zuha.â You answered slowly, suspicious of the sudden question.
Her eyes look past you, in between the different convenience stores. Her grip on your forearm tightened slightly.
âDo you wanna take it off me?â
âDammit, Zuha, I knew it!â
âCome on. Weâll be quick.â
âWeâll be caught.âÂ
âWeâll be quiet,â Zuha affirmed, steadfast. Her legs extended as she dragged you into a small passageway just beside a store. The path was dimly lit (of course) with only a blinking lamp post on the far end.
âPlusâŚâ Zuha started as she pulled you into the shadows, her arms squeezing both your shoulders. âItâs not for me.â
âWhat do you mean?â You whispered.
Zuha turned around, planting both palms on the brick wall of the building. She arched her back, the suit jacket trailing off her sides, showing off the round shape of her ass. The suede shimmered slightly, drawing lines where her legs and juicy thighs met the outline of her butt. Your meat suddenly flexed in anticipation.
âAs a thank you. For waiting for me.â She said with a bite of her lip. âAnd for everything else.â
You approached her slowly, your hand coming in contact with her waist. âAre you sure?â
âYeah. Think of it as payment. For the times I only let you get me off.â
âYouâre crazy.â You said, head leaning in to take a whiff of her neck.Â
Zuha moaned at the proximal contact. You moved both your hands to hug around her waist, feeling the sleek material of her vest. You made a slight U-turn, fingers trailing upwards to cup her chest as you kissed the spot below her ear. You finally closed the distance with the tent poking through your pants as you brushed your bulge at the cleft of her asscheeks.
âMmm, fuck, that for me?â
âIâm yours.â Your right hand squeezed her tit as your left pushed against her fit stomach, bringing her whole arched body closer to you. Your cock rubbed against the material of your scrub pants, grinding against her plump ass and poking in between from time to time. You leaned against her shoulder, face buried in her fragrant vanilla-shampooed hair, grunting as you finally had your way with her.
âOh, God, Iâm so sorry for leaving youâ fuckâ hanging all the time.â Her palm crumpled the hair on the back of your head as she turned slightly to kiss your cheek. You ground your cock harder against her, gripping her flesh tighter as if sheâll disappear right before you orgasm. You moaned in unison as you humped her. But you needed more. With a quick release, you pulled down your scrub pants and boxers, exposing your straining dick to the night air. You brought your shaft closer as you humped along the groove of her ass.
âFuck, did you take it out? Oh God, fuck, yes, thatâs so fucking hot. I can feel how hard you are.â The older woman mewled as her hair became disheveled, the thought of your bare cock rubbing against her ass exhilarating her to a new height.
The soft feel of the suede and the roundness of her butt were the perfect velvet cushion to hump and grind against as you held her in place. Beads of pre-cum slicked the length of your shaft, making your strokes extra slippery and smooth. Zuha cried and whimpered your name as she felt your entire length run between her cheeks. You drove your meat further, alternating between a long stroke and a deep push between her thighs. You crept both of your hands underneath her vest, feeling for the bottom of her bra. You snuck a couple fingers in, rubbing and pinching at her hardened peaks.
âHoly fuck, youâre amazing. Yes, yes, oh God yes, just like that, just like that.â Her fingers tightened around your hair.
With a sudden bang and the sound of hollow plastic falling, both of you froze. Your eyes panicked, darting to the end of the passageway where the convenience store was. A cat had knocked over several empty water jugs and plastic gallons of oil. A bell rang, and the store owner stared at the ruckus, a frustrated cry accompanying his irritated hair scratch.
He was now facing the alley.
Toward the both of you.
Any closer â any noisier â and youâd both be caught.
âHey, wait, wait,â Zuha says with slight concern.
You buried your face back in her hair, adrenaline flowing as your dick did most of the thinking. You gave her a hump.
Zuha lightly smacked your cheek. âHey, câmon!â She snapped at you quietly.
But you didnât listen. You grinded against her more aggressively now, your dick smacking her ass.
âFuck!â Zuha croaks out.
The store ownerâs head snapped towards the alley. You saw him squint, trying to make sense of the shadows.
âFucking stop it, I swear.â Zuha released a warning alongside a breathy moan.
You brought one of your hands to her mouth, covering her lips but leaving her nose. You continued grinding now, slowly but surely, savoring the unexpected audience. Zuha seemed to notice this too; her complaints now coos and moans into your hand.
The store owner shook his head and finally knelt down to fix the spilled containers. He headed back in shortly after.
Zuha smacked your shoulder this time. âYou really are an idiot, huh?â
You held her hip with one hand now, watching your shaft bump up against the blue velvet material. You brought your other hand to her throat and pulled her back towards you, your chest and cock now pressing flush against her.
âGod, youâre lucky I like you.â She breathed out, turning her head to the side to meet your lips as you mashed your member against her.
âI like you a lot, Zuha.â You murmured against her temple, hugging her a bit harder, a bit of sentiment breaking through the sex-fueled cracks of your resolve.
âYeah? I bet you do.â Her hold on your hair loosened as her hand traveled downward, finding your thick rod. She stroked it a few times, spreading precum along the length. âMmm, fuck, youâre so big. You feel good?â
âGod, fuck yes.â You brought her hand back up to your hair as you took charge, breathing in the scent of her sweat as you angled her face towards you. Zuha gasped out an open-mouthed moan, feeling you drive your erection further between her thick ass. You shove your tongue in her mouth as she groans out your name, meeting her in a raspy and sloppy kiss.
You rubbed back against her harder, feeling the rising pressure in your groin just steaming to get out. She responded in kind, meeting your humps halfway, colliding against you with the velvet feel of her pants.Â
âWhere do you wanna cum?â She rasped out.
âM-mouth..?â You requested through clenched teeth.
âFuck.â Zuha said with an accidental gasp. âGreat choice.â
You humped erratically now, the piston-like rhythm now lost to impending release. Zuhaâs body rocks alongside yours as she welcomes the roughness. After a few awkward humps and grinds, you feel a surge travel up from the base of your cock to the tip, your meat flexes as you finally groan out in pleasure completed.
âCumming?â
âMhm, y-yeah.â
You leaned back a bit, hand wrapping your cock to keep the stimulation going. Zuha quickly whipped around and crouched, hands on both your thighs, as she opened her mouth. You leaned forward a bit, tip now coming in contact with her tongue. The LED lampâs light crawled through the shadows from the end of the alley, lighting up Zuhaâs clear face as she looked up at you while steadying herself.
You stared at Zuha, at the stray lock of hair that traveled down her face, the slightly scuffed suede suit now a juxtaposition to the raunchy situation you were both in, and her delicate lips now parted to accept your release. You stroked yourself faster, groaning as your knees shuddered and spine tingled, until you finally climaxed. You spurted out a rope of cum, shooting half into Zuhaâs mouth and up diagonally to her right cheek. You let out a strained growl, another wave shooting out and splattering on her tongue, the orgasm hitting you way harder than expected. Zuha stroked it for you, aiding you in emptying your balls deeper into her mouth. She helped you ride out your orgasm, catching each drop with care.
With a gulp, she smirked. âWell?â
âFuckâ thank you.â You gulped, exhausted and palpitating, your cock still out.
She giggled before rising from the cement to pat you on the chest. Her hand slid up to the side of your face as she leaned in to plant a kiss on your cheek.
âOf course.â She cooed, her thumb stroking your jaw gently.
You zipped up awkwardly, patting down the crumples and folds of your shirt. âSo now do you wanna go home?â
-
Zuha could be confusing at times, but in the short span youâve known her, you were aware that your feelings had grown ever clearer â you already loved her. It was easy, exciting, and expected.
Sure, Zuha was a woman of opposites within herself, but with you, it was different. You got to fill in whatever gaps Zuha had, and you enjoyed the âworkâ, so to speak.Â
Youâd ease tightly-wound nights she spent studying with instant cocoa and a few back rubs. Funnily enough, you could now also recall off the top of your head different cases sheâd said mattered to her defense. Youâd have breakfast ready for her whenever you had to leave her apartment early, and youâd be there in the evening, picking up scattered clothes sheâd be too tired to pick up.
And she filled you, too.Â
Zuha was quick with a quiz or two on your recent lessons and cases. Sheâd roleplay as different patients with varying diagnoses, practicing how quick you could diagnose and plan interventions. On your down times, sheâd buy you more bread, masking the sentiment with a flashy grin, but secretly making sure you never forgot to eat. Sheâd click her tongue and fume for a moment whenever you food-stained your shirt, but you would always catch her preparing the washing machine right after. Her age is apparent in those moments.
You already loved Zuha, but telling her was a different thing altogether. Youâve noticed it for a long time, how she would dodge conversations about it, simply skirt around the topic, or silence you with a kiss. She never talked about love, or loving, or falling in love, and so youâve always chalked it up to her not being used to it, what with her alleged marriage (you were still very curious about that) not being the best and how sheâs never really needed to love another. You knew she was trying to open herself up, and you would be there every step of the way.
However, you also knew this thing with Zuha was different. It had to be. Sure, itâs only been a couple of months, but forehead kisses and buying groceries together seemed to convey otherwise. Youâve already considered Zuhaâs flat your place too, and she wouldnât have it any other way either. Youâve already shared countless nights together â snoring, arguing, or kissing. If that wasnât love, then you donât know what the hell youâve been doing with her all this time.Â
And so, since it was now also your 4th month together, you planned to tell her tonight.
-
With a click of your phone, you send a reply to Zuha, reminding her to stay safe on her way home.Â
She texts back a smiley face with sunglasses and finger guns. âYou know it.â
For the 5th time now, sheâs had to stay a bit late on campus, so you decided to go ahead and prepare dinner for when she arrived. You run some plates under the faucet after finally setting down tonightâs dinner: a few well-seared cuts of beef, beautiful and silky mashed potatoes, a yogurt bowl with mixed berries for dessert, and a nice bottle of wine you bought on the detour home. Then, as you both ate, youâd tell her you love her. Boom â sparks fly, sheâll tell you she loves you too, and then youâll be a hero. After dinner, youâd lead her to the couch and bring out your secret weapon to seal the deal: a pint of ice cream and a Disney movie. You hum to yourself, satisfied, as you fold a few of the clean laundry that piled on the corner stool of Zuhaâs (and yours) room.
You hear the faint jingle of Zuhaâs keys as the door finally swings open. She steps in, this wonderful woman wearing an oversized army green parka over her baggy grey hoodie, loose jorts, and dark leggings that pair with her beat-up sneakers â stylish as always. She pushes her glasses up her nose as she readjusts the strap of her (obviously heavy) duffel bag. Her gaze scans and lands first on the food on the table and then finally on you. Her face beams as her eyes turn into crescent moons of glee, and her nose scrunches for an imperceptible second.Â
She smiles at you. âSorry, Iâm late.â
Your arm wraps around her waist as your other hand cradles the back of her head. You lean forward and plant your lips on hers. Her arms snake and cross just behind your neck as she leans into you, surrendering to your kiss.
âMmm, you missed me?â She whispers with a smirk, her eyes shimmering.
âI always do.â You kiss her forehead. âI made dinner.â
âThank you.â Her fingers run through your hair appreciatively. She pecks you one last time before leaving the embrace to turn around and behold the dinner.
âYouâve always been the better cook.â Zuha shrugs. âMeat and potatoes? Whatâs the occasion?â She chuckles.
âYou tell me.â You smiled as you led her to the table, pulling the chair out and seating her. You pop the wine bottle and fill her glass halfway.
âAnd wine? Seriously, whatâs up with you?â She gasps lightheartedly.
âCâmon, Zuha. Itâs our 4th month together.â You tease.
She gulps down an eighth of the wine with wide eyes. âOh gosh, no, yeah, I knew that!â She smirks with a cocky brow.
âYeah, so just sit back and let me serve you.â You put the wine off to the side, stab a couple of pieces of the meat, spoon some of the silky spud, and lather the rich demi-glace over the ensemble. You graciously offer the plate up for her judgment.
She picks up her fork and tries the meat. Then the mashed potatoes. Then the meat with the sauce.
âHoly God,â Zuha mutters with a full cheek.
You burst out laughing. âGood?â
She nods vigorously, the strands of her bangs bouncing in unison. âMore than goodâ Christ.â
âWell thank you, Zuha. I appreciate that.â
âNo, you! I appreciate you. You have to make this for me all the time.â She scarfs down another bite.Â
âZuha, slow down.â You say with a chuckle. You take a bite off your own plate and relish in your recently learned dish (thank God for YouTube). âSo how was school?â you continued.
The older woman then goes off on a tangent about how a certain law was amended just yesterday, effectively disassembling the defense they had set up for their next trial. She vouched for her argumentâs validity, citing more and more cases you had no knowledge of, and expressed her exasperation with the amendment. How they knew which laws to amend to throw a wrench in Zuhaâs defense really irked her.Â
Despite the obvious anger dormant in her, Zuha glowed. She was passionate, fiercely intelligent, and dedicated. And thatâs what you loved â Zuha just being herself.
And so you finally work up the courage.
ââŚbut, itâs fine. Thatâs the law, I guess. If thatâs what the law says, Iâll just have to find another theoretical basis. Which is a lot of work. But, Iâll manage.â Her brows finally ease as she catches herself in the zone. Her gaze rises, cuts your jaw, and meets back with you. She displays a goofy, toothy grin.
âHey. I love you.â
âWhat?â Her voice ups in pitch as she abruptly stops chewing.
âI said, I love you.â
Zuhaâs mouth hangs slightly open. The faint jazz music from the nearby speakers floats through the dead air.
You chuckle once, slightly nervous. âZuha, I love you.â
âN-no, yeah. I know, I know you do.â
You chuckle again, a bit weaker now. âWell, I meanâŚI was expecting something more than âI knowâ.â
âNo, I-I doâŚyâknowâŚâ Zuha attempts to complete her sentence but trails off after her stuttering, her disposition now uncharacteristic of the confident woman you met.
âYeahâŚâ you nod slowly, heart pounding for all the wrong reasons. âSo can you say it back?â
âWhat?â Zuha tries to tame her ragged breathing.
ââŚsay you love me?â Unconsciously, your voice verges on a plea now. Your hands cramp and your fingers freeze, desperate to cross the meager distance of a few centimeters toward her clenched hand. âIs it too early for that? Or, am I pressuring you? Is that why you canât say it yet?â
âNo, itâs not that. Look, I do, okay?â She sighs, her gaze now dull and inaccurate, rarely meeting yours. âBut IâŚâ
âWhatâs wrong?â
An inhale. âIâm afraid of saying itâŚâ
âAfraid of saying it? W-whyâŚ?â
âBecause saying it makes itâŚâ
âMakes it whatâŚ?â
âReal.â
The mood vastly changes now. The apartment suddenly has this uncomfortable weight, like a heavy load on your shoulders, and youâre quickly getting exhausted.
Your breathing quickens as your eyebrows finally fall into a furrow. âSo thisâŚâ You pointed at both of you. ââŚwasnât?â
âItâs not like that.â
âSo what is it like then?â You whine now, letting go of your cutlery, appetite now obviously extinct.
âI just meant that saying it makes itâŚofficial.â
âThere it is again, Zuha. So was this all unofficial for you? I meanâ what the hell even are we then?â
âWeâreâŚâ
âIâve practically moved out and lived here, Zuha. â You push back the plate. âWas all this nothing to you?â
âItâs not nothing.â Zuhaâs voice finally settles into a whisper.
âWe sleep together, we go to class together, we go home together, we do laundry togetherâ Zuha, we buy groceries together. And all this time youâve been afraid of making it ârealâ? So what is this? W-whatâsâ What are we doing?â Your forehead crinkles as you gulp, studying her face.
Nothing.
âDid you even know itâs our 4th month together?â You continue, voice shaky now.
She looks away, her face turned to the side, looking toward the different dishes that were drying.
âZuha.â
Her eyebrows furrow a bit more in response, and her chin trembles slightly. But she doesnât reply. She looks down instead.
âKazuha.â You drop her nickname.
She looks up at you, her eyes suddenly now crystal-like with the tears finally building. Her chin wobbles as her bottom lip quivers into a pout. Her eyebrows lose all their pointedness as her gaze is disarmed. Â
She cries.
Dammit. You immediately scooch your chair out to walk over to her. You lean down and wrap her in an embrace.
âYouâre mad.â Her voice is a shaky tantrum as she laments the loss of her nickname. The once cool and sleek woman, now a fragile sobbing mess in your hands. Almost like a child, the older woman whimpers into your chest.Â
So, you press your lips against her forehead as you try to console her with a few gentle hushes. âNo, no, no, Iâm sorry. Iâm not mad, Zuha.â
âThen whyâd you call me Kazuha?â Her lips form a pout again as she looks up at you. Your heart aches as you stare at her.
You breathe out a sigh slowly. âBecause Iâm serious, Zuha. I need you to talk to me because this matters to me.â
âOkay.â Zuha sniffles a bit, her gaze studying yours, then she finally nods. âBut Iâm Zuha. Iâll always be Zuha now.â She adds while pounding your chest gently with her clenched fist.
You kiss her forehead a few seconds longer before you part. âOh, jeez, whoâs the child now?â You chuckle softly.
Zuha rolls her eyes as she sniffs, her cheeks are flush and her hair is messy. You carry your chair over to her side of the table so you can now sit in front of her. She dabs a few tissues on her nose and the corner of her eyes before sitting up straight. She tries looking at you, but her eyes wander, failing to hold contact.Â
You reach over to squeeze her palm. âIâm not mad, Zuha. But I am serious. I need to know now.â
She lets go of a long-withheld sigh. She studies your face, weighing her thoughts and words precisely. âIâm scared because the last time I told someone I loved them, they hurt me. And I never make the same mistake twice, you know that about me. So, I justââÂ
Her breathing hitches a bit before sheâs able to gather herself, her tears now refusing to run down her cheeks.
âI never told youâŚeven if I knew I felt it. I was afraid because if we made things real, then itâd be real enough to hurt me. And I never ever want to get hurt again.â Her brows come together in worry, her head now looking down at her lap.
You ease back in your chair. So she did love you back.
âButâŚâ Zuha starts again. âIâm also afraid because I know you want the real thing. And I think the real thing you see is us staying here together and living our lives here. And I donât think we can have that becauseâŚâ
You nod slowly, nervous about what comes next.
ââŚbecause Iâve been taking ballet classes again.â Zuha finally confesses. âM-my old ballet schoolâŚtheyâve always been asking me to come back and try again, saying theyâll save me a spot.â
âYour ballet schoolâŚâ You murmur. ââŚin the Netherlands.â
She nods, eyes a bit red from the sobbing, but scanning your face for your reaction, gauging whatever emotions you feel.
âHuh. So all this time youâve been coming home lateâŚ?â
Zuha nods with a nervous bite to her lip, moving slowly toward her duffel bag on the floor. She unzips the bag to pull out her ballet shoes, a faded rose pink with minimal wear â obviously new.
âYouâve been taking ballet for weeks, then.â Your voice comes out weak. Defeated.Â
ââŚyes.â Zuhaâs voice was weaker and tinier.Â
You remain quiet for a second. âYou told me it was for school, Zuha. You lied.â
âI was gonna tell you, eventually.â
âZuhaââ You speak, voice teetering on annoyed now. You take a small sigh. âWhen was 'eventually' going to be?â
âI donât know, alright? I was working up the courage, but thenâŚâ She bites her lip. âLoving you made it more complicated.â
âComplicated? How?â
âBecause I knew loving you would make the decision harder.â
Oh. The decision.
You finally let go of the weight of the apartment on your shoulders.
âSo youâve decided.â You say, flatly.
âItâsâitâs not like that. You know itâs not like that.â
âThen what is it like, Zuha?â Something was rising in your chest now. You feel your eyebrows furrow and grow heavier, this deep burning feeling churning in your stomach. You scan Zuha, immediately rifling through the numerous details of her face youâve memorized, hoping â pleading â to have just the faintest idea of what was on her mind. (Looking back, your gaze sharpened that day. She felt it too.)
âI was just looking to try it out...â Her words stumble and trip. âBut I canât really drop school again, and my familyâs still staying here, plus I donât have the money for another apartment and tuition, and I absolutely wonât forgive myself if I force you to come with me. I mean, your parents are here, and I know you donât want to leave them. I also know you want to set up a clinic here, and I know youâll be shelling out money you donât have to try and follow me now. So I donâtâŚâ Zuha racks her brain in the pause but ultimately fails. ââŚI donât know.â
You click your tongue on instinct. Zuha winces a bit.
âIâve always been honest with you, Zuha.â Your anger is slowly cooling now as you feel yourself pull back from the conversation â indifference. Zuhaâs eyes suddenly widen as you stand up.
âN-no, wait, hey, please. Donât leave. Where are you going?â
âIâm not going anywhere, Zuha. I just need to think.â
âNo, please, please. I can be more honest with you, please.â
âI know, butâŚâ You sigh out, half hurt, a quarter tired, and on the verge of tears, and a quarter frustrated. âItâs time youâve been more honest with yourself, Zuha.â
You gather the plates from the table slowly as Zuha sits there. Her puffy eyes stare at you helplessly, watching your every move with a pout on her face. She was desperate to forget all that had happened and just hug you. But she doesnât. She knows you. Youâve always needed time and space whenever you guys get into a big fight, and sheâs always respected that.
You decide to sleep with your back turned to Zuha.
-
Your phone buzzes you awake. 5:45. Itâs a Friday.
You try to rise from the bed, but you feel a weight sprawled across your chest. Zuha.Â
In the toss and turn of the night, her arm was now wrapped around you, gripping your side of the covers tightly. You look down and see a pajamaâd leg also interlocked with yours. You sigh as you stare at the top of Zuhaâs head, burrowing closer to your side.
âZuha, I have to go.â You whisper.
She shakes her head.
âZuha, I need to leave.â
âPlease, Iâm sorry.â
âZuha, I meant the clinic.â
Her fingers finally loosen. âSorry, I thought you meantâŚâ
âOh, Zuha.â You squeeze her forearm. âItâs okay. Go back to sleep.â You urge as you finally stand up. You stride a bit, looking around for your bag before you hear the mattress groan. Zuha snatches your hand, her bare face finding your gaze. Her face remains angelic despite the puffiness around her eyes and the pink hue of the tip of her nose. Her straight hair flows down smoothly, making it hard to decipher whether or not she slept at all or was simply blessed with a higher powerâs favor to always wake up perfect. And yet her lips were still in a pout. A weak one, but you know it was there.Â
âAbout our conversation last nightâŚâ
âItâs fine, Zuha. We can talk about it when youâre ready.â Your eyes wander around her flat, thinking back to your first night, a far cry from the very night you just had.
She reels you in gently, slowly, like you were some boat about to be moored. You resist at first, but let her pull you in an embrace. You stand at the foot of the bed while she kneels to try to stay upright.
While her arms envelop your waist, you kiss her forehead, unsure about whether or not a kiss on the forehead was allowed or if the rules of your and Zuhaâs âarrangementâ have forbidden that and only allowed for quick hugs and gentle hand presses.
Zuha pulls you downward lightly, kissing you back on your forehead.
-
Five days pass by after that. Scant conversation was all that remained in Zuhaâs apartment. A few scattered pecks here and there and a couple of hand squeezes that lingered a little too long also served as words unsaid. Youâd sometimes share a brief gaze with Zuha, too, paragraphs and essays of what you wished to say would pour out telepathically, but it never sufficed. The conversation never came.
Youâve been going home more frequently, too. Your parents seemed to understand not to talk to you about it, only settling for small hugs and pats on the back whenever the topic shifted to Zuha or when you thought of her. Your room was never scarce of her, though. On your bedside, you kept a framed picture of Zuha from your 2nd month together, one where her goofy grin was evident, and her nose was scrunched as she watched a movie. The picture helped you sleep soundly.
Did you still love her? Of course. Youâve thought long and hard about dropping everything and going with her to the Netherlands, but it just wouldnât work. Thereâs not enough money in your name for a plane ticket, let alone the funds needed to basically start living there. You couldnât even bear to explain to your parents how your schooling would work. Ultimately, your paths have officially diverged. You know balletâs a strict sport, and so you know long distance will only delay the inevitable. Heck, it might just cause a larger rift, now that you think about it. You already envision the long arguments over the phone about selfishness, not having enough time for each other, setting priorities, and timezone contradictions that would end in either tears, the âEnd Callâ button, or, as you expertly predict, a breakup.
Now, here you are, finally clocking out of the clinic and walking down that same street toward the train station, dreading the old commute. You pass by the food stands, ignoring the scents and aromas of crackling food over coal heat, and stride faster down the sidewalk. Your eyes wander for a bit until you see Fors. You observe the cafe for a bit. It was busy as ever, catering to the nightlife now.Â
You see customers exit the establishment with paper bags in hand, and you briefly remember Zuha. Has she eaten? Probably not. You sigh for a moment, but after a couple of backtracks, end up trudging in to buy a croissant anyway. You tuck away the bread neatly and reroute to her apartment.
Up a couple of alleyways and bypass roads, you spot her apartment with the lights still off. Being a quarter past 5, she was still probably at school, packing up last-minute books and notes. And so, you let yourself in.
Zuhaâs perfume was comforting. It floated through the apartment so much that you could smell her everywhere. Her apartment was still the same, but one part of the wall in the living room was now bare. You walk over to where the couch is and see an overturned picture frame. You flip it back up to see Zuha, the same picture that got her wide smile as she was locked in a spin. You sigh, staring at the picture â at the woman you love. You stroke your thumb over her cheek as you sigh deeply. You make the decision to hang it back up.
You sit down on the couch now, taking everything in: the smell, the hazy stovetop light, the different plants, and the ballet picture. In the quiet stillness of the apartment, your heart aches loudly. You gulp at the thought of not being able to give Zuha what she wanted, how she had to second-guess her dreams just because she ended up loving you too.Â
And then you feel it. Your bottom lip trembles.
God, fuck, no, you think to yourself as you shake your head, sniffling harshly to try and stifle the waterworks. You pull out your phone instead, hoping to just doomscroll and bypass emotions flowing out of you. You open up Instagram, only to close it back down. Your thumb shakes, obviously confused at the conflicting stimuli your body and mind seem to both be shouting. You settle on TikTok, but that doesnât work either.
âHere are 10 simple date night dishes you could make for yourââ
Youâve gotta be kidding me, you shout internally. You immediately exit the app, flinging your phone on the opposite end of the couch. You cross your arms for a bit, pinching the bridge of your nose as you sniffle.Â
But you canât resist. Your fingers leap out.
You reach over to grab your phone, and you pull up YouTube, scroll for a bit, and find a video. Kitri Variation - Bolshoi Ballet. You hesitate, but something tells you to hit play.
The mix of warm and cool lights spread across the large wooden stage as the audience hushed straggling whispers and phrases. The camera wobbled a bit, zoomed out, but then focused shortly. From what you could see, the theater was grand and large, housing hundreds of red suede seats that surrounded the wide stage in a semi-circle. The stage was tall as it was wide, sporting these huge columns of burgundy curtains that cut the performance into sizable chunks and interludes. With the whole place now settling into quiet, music finally commences. A few booms and crescendos of classical music filled the theater as the strings started to pick up. The plucks and twangs of instruments invited the audience to a trance-like state, focusing on the next performer striding toward the center.Â
And there she was â Kazuha. Younger, a bit shorter, but with her shining smile still preserved and untouched after all these years. The spotlight cast a graceful shadow on the floor.
After a beat of silence, Zuha erupted in movement. She leaped and pounced and fell and zig-zagged across the stage. Her arms were graceful and strong, and would occasionally whip into shape. Sheâd perform on pointe, showing off her balanced and calculated lines while maintaining this air of pomp. With a couple of dips and hops, her face came into view. Her adorable face showed off a wide grin as her nose scrunched.
You chuckle softly, the light from your phone illuminating your face and part of the darkness that shrouded the living room, beyond the reach of her lamp in the corner and the kitchen lights. The lights bounce off the tears slowly creeping down your cheek. You laugh helplessly. âJesus, I look so stupid.â
You keep watching, though.
You chuckle, glassy-eyed, as Zuha flitted through the stage with a smile, visions of the time you spent with her flooding your mind. You remember the smirks sheâd make or the glares sheâd produce. Hell, you remember her laugh whenever she had to take care of you when you were too sick to function.
As the music finally kicked up a notch, signaling a climax in the performance, Zuha fell into a series of fouettĂŠ turns, rotating on one leg while her other leg whipped around to propel her.Â
And she spun.
The video ended with roars of applause and cheers as Zuha took a small bow at the end before retreating offstage.
You put the phone down to finally wipe some of the tears running down the corner of your eyes, sniffling weakly as you groan out a laugh. The tremble in your lip slowly starts to settle. You lean back on the headrest, your stare landing on the apartment ceiling. You rest your puffy eyes before slowly drifting off to sleep, clutching the Fors paperbag close to you.
-
The next thing you know, you hear your name.
âHey.â
Your eyes shift for a bit, discerning reality from sleep.
You feel a poke on your cheek.
âHave you been here long?â You open your eyes to see Zuha staring right back at you, her arm atop the sofa headrest, her eyes wide as she observes. She wore a plain white t-shirt paired with some high-waisted jeans â a casual day at school, it seemed.
Youâre groggy, but you take a quick glance at the time. 7:12.
âI guess so.â You whisper as Zuha adjusts when you finally sit up.
âHey, your eyes.â Her hand travels upward to cup your cheek. âHave you been crying?â
You shake your head minutely. âI donât know.â
âWhatâs wrong?â Her eyes fall down toward your unlocked phone. On her video. On the hanging ballet portrait.
You scan the emotions running through Zuha. She stalls for a bit, digesting in silence. Then a sigh.
âCould you tell I was nervous?â She nods toward your phone.
âNo, not at all.â
âWell, I was. My knees trembled before and after I got on that stage. Puked a couple times, too.â
âYou were incredible, Zuha. Youâve always been incredible.â
She smiles subtly. Her eyes were puffy as well.
âHey, listenââ
âYou should do it.â You cut her off.Â
âWhat?â
âThe Netherlands.â
âYou want me toâŚgo?â
âYes. And I know you never really meant to ask for my permission, Zuha.â You cup her face. âBut, Iâm sure youâd still be a heck of a lawyer if you decide to come back, though.â
She briefly bites her lip, processing what you just said.
âYou never had to lie to me, you know? I donât want you to think for a second that I would have stopped you from going back to ballet. Iâve seen the way your eyes light up whenever we talk about it. You also know Iâve caught you watching your old videos before.â
Her head droops, but you lift it back up gently. You smile through the blade of her eyes.
âLook, I love you, Zuha. Not just the idea of being with you.â You rub a stray tear away from her eye. âAnd if loving you means you have to go awayâŚâ You bite the corner of your lip slightly as you nod. âThen thatâs fine. My love stays the same.â
You try to slow time, but only muster up the power to stop the physical environment. Clocks halt, cars brake, stars stall. But not Zuha. Zuha breathes slowly as she locks eyes with you.
âI love you too,â she speaks in a whisper, getting shy at the overdue reply. âOh God, I love you. Iâm in love with you. You have my whole heart.â Her eyes are stunted waterfalls as she pouts up at you, finally baring herself wholly to you. This was Zuha â not the ballerina, not the lawyer, not the daughter. Just Zuha.
She gasps, revitalized by newfound oxygen, as if saying I love you back was a long, foreign feeling to her lips that sheâs finally found again.Â
She inhales more now. âGosh, I love you, and Iâm sorry for lying to youâ for going behind your back, for coming home late, and for not telling you. I-I should have told you because I owe that to you. Because I shouldnât hurt you. Because I love you.â
You sniff back a sob, but you ultimately nod. âZuha, I already forgave you the morning after you finally told me. I only wish you'd been more honest with me. I would have understood, yâknow?â Her eyebrows crease, but you kiss the top of her head, whispering into her hair as you hold her close. âIâve been in love with you for so long, you big baby.â
She rubs her eyes with the back of her wrists, chuckling stupidly as she realizes how her puffy eyes and tantrum must have looked: childish. She grins as her nose scrunches, but she wills it away.
âYou donât have to keep hiding that.â You flick your thumb lightly at her forehead. âJustâŚgrin whenever you want to, laugh whenever you want to, do ballet whenever you really want to.â
A slight pout from her as she breathes out.
âThe Zuha I know doesnât need permission from anyone,â you continue.
She scoffs it off faintly with a shake of her head. âThatâs ridiculous.â
âIâm serious, yâknow. Thereâs a Zuha inside you thatâs tough and enduring.â You slide a part of her locks behind her ear. âNot like Lawyer Kazuha. No, this Zuha is even tougher. This Zuhaâs been tough for a very long time. And she doesnât care what other people think. At least, thatâs what she hopes for. Because deep down, sheâs sweet. Sheâs warm. She laughs. She adores sleeping in. But she hides these things by being tough, thinking that letting them slip through the seams means weakness.â You take her face into your palms. Your thumb grazes her cheeks slowly. âBut itâs not. Iâve seen her let go and just be herself. And in all of those moments, Iâve always thought of how tough she is, tough enough to laugh and be foolish and joke at her own expense. Tough enough to be vulnerable and to keep chasing passions despite the things sheâs gone through in life. Tough enough to allow herself to scrunch her nose.â You tap the end of her nose gently.
âI love you.â She says in a low whisper. âAnd I missed you.â
You chuckle. âI know, Zuha. I love you, and I missed you, too.â
She buries her face into your chest as you wrap her in a small embrace, inhaling your scent as you breathe. Her hand reaches up from her side toward you, but she accidentally hits the paper bag.
âThat for me?â Zuhaâs face suddenly beams, like the tears that had just fallen were inconsequential to the now more important matter: bread.
âItâs for us, you selfish girl.â You chide as you prop yourself up on the couch to open the bag, pulling out the two croissants and placing them both on a plate of Fors tissue paper. âItâs still freshâŚâ You poke a floppy part in Zuhaâs croissant. It doesnât bounce back. ââŚyou can have mine instead.â
Her nose scrunches for longer now. She gives a grin, flashing off her pearly whites, before opening her mouth.
âWhat?â You ask.
Her eyebrows furrow as she pouts, her cheeks rounding out her face. She points to her mouth wordlessly, almost cartoonishly impatient.
âJeez, you really must have missed me if youâre acting like that.â You set aside your own croissant to focus on Zuhaâs. She hums lightly as she opens up once again.
âFeed me both croissants, and Iâll show you how else Iâve missed you.â
-
The reuniting kiss with Zuha is all tongue, teeth, and tension. Her hands immediately trail upwards to crumple the hairs on the back of your head, pushing you towards her mouth. She releases a sloppy, hot exhale as your lips separate, sounding off whenever both of you reposition. You feel her pushing against you, pressing her lips further and further, licking, sucking, and sometimes biting.
âZuha, wait.â
âMmph. Fuck no.â She straddles you now, both hands on the sides of your face as she makes you look up at her. Her thumb presses lightly on your chin, making your jaw push back and opening your mouth.
Then she spits inside.
âOh, fuck.â You wheeze out as you drink the warm saliva Zuha just produced.Â
âYou like that?â A husky whisper.
You nod profusely.
She dives back in to make out with you and then pulls back again to spit more in your mouth. Zuha repeats this for a while, roughly rocking against your clothed crotch. A chorus of names and whispers fills the small apartment, the church-like atmosphere accentuated by the warm orange glow of a lamp off to the side. This was worship and sacrilege at the same time â you gnashed teeth, spoke in tongues, and sought salivation.
âUgh!â You groan out as Zuha pulls back on your hair sharply, your head slamming back on the sofa. Her arms wrap around your head as she looks down on you, her wavy hair draping downward. With vigor, Zuha grinds her hips in a circle, sliding against your stiff member, her eyes watching your every reaction.
âOhâoh fuck, yes.â Her mouth forms an âOâ as she gasps your name, her breath colliding with yours. She moans into your mouth, holding you close, teasing you with a kiss, but only ever gracing you with light brushes against your lips.
Zuha suddenly rips your hands off her slim waist, lowering them down to her ass, the roundness of her cheeks ever felt through her tight denims. You squeeze courteously as you both moan in unison. You hear your name and other profanities spill forth from her mouth, her words slurring and seething as she desperately sated herself on dry humping you.
You inhale quickly as you abruptly stand up, carrying her lithe body as she clings onto your shoulders. âMmm, room time?â
âFucking do me on the kitchen counter.â She breathes out.
You shove your tongue into her mouth as you march over toward the kitchen. You hear the separate thuds of Zuhaâs heels fall to the floor as she tightens her legs around you. With restraint, you finally withdraw from her lips (Zuhaâs tongue was quite persuasive) and plop her down on the tiled countertop just beside her small rice cooker as you work on unbuttoning her jeans. Zuha leans back as she bites her lip, her gaze a blade waiting for your next move. You finally slide her pants off, revealing the smooth skin of her hips, her round, muscly thighs, and the wet spot on her light-colored panties. You take a deep whiff of her scent, the salty, sweaty, heady musk invading your nostrils, making your cock flex painfully. You release a rugged breath as you help Zuha lift her ass to slide off her panties. You consider fucking her there and then, but you fall to your knees and succumb to your baser desires.
You give her shaven pussy a long experimental lick.
Zuha squeals out at the surprise. âOh God, yes, yes, I needed this, too. Oh, I need you so much.â
You hook your arms around her thighs, falling into the usual motions of routine. She was atop, in all her sexy glory, and you were down there once more, adoring and venerating the wet folds before you. You keep up a consistent stroke, tonguing and licking her clit as you rub two fingers across her splayed pussy. You alternate a few times, kissing her sex and licking the inside of her meaty thighs, watching Zuha groan or mewl depending on where your tongue dared to go. After a few more licks, you switch to a slower pace while sucking on her nub. Her leaking juices drip down the grooves of her crotch and the crevice of asscheeks, making the rim of her ass glisten. Zuha moans out slower now, her chest rising and falling as the tempo shifts. You coat your index and middle finger with her liquids before slowly entering her warmth.
âJesus, fuck!â She nods as you look up at her, her right hand confused whether to tense and pull on your hair or ease and grip the back of your neck.
She opts for the former.
Your scalp stings, but the joy of pleasing Zuha far outweighs any pain she inflicted. You trail your fingers from her pussy and down to her tight rim. She squeals in surprise as you lose count of how much your name has been recited this night. With careful entry, you breach her tight asshole. A different kind of warmth wraps your fingers now â a hotter and tighter muscle, so paradoxical it keeps you inside when you want to pull out but eagerly sucks you back in when you want to penetrate. Zuha quickly verges on her release, the stimulation of all her holes making her legs twitch and squirm on your shoulders. Her voice picks up in pitch now as she closes her eyes in pent-up libido, her brows harshly furrowing and pointing to her ceiling, her hair flowing wildly with some sticking to her neck and forehead sweat. Bringing your other hand into play, you lick on her swelling clit as you finger both her holes.
âMotherfucker!â Iâm yours, Iâm all yours. Take me, make me cum. Please!â She runs her fingers through her own hair, her body twitching and her breath ragged as she locks you deeper between her legs.
With a final rub of your thumb on her clit, she cums. Wasting no time, you immediately get to work slurping up her pussy lips as her orgasm continues. You indulge in the tangy, salty mix of sex and love Zuha was offering, licking in long vertical strokes, making sure to cover wherever you havenât covered yet. Her twitches die down slowly as her high subsides. Your tongue ventures lower again, reaching her puckered rim as you eat her out gently, matching her easing sighs and exhales, helping her return to baseline. Her eyes finally catch your gaze, staring at you and the highly obscene act you were committing.
âYou feel good?â You whisper as you kiss the inside of her legs before rising up from the tiled floor.
Her arms wrap around your neck to pull you in. âSo much fucking better now.â She whispers before smiling to kiss your cheek. She exhales deeply, angling your head to the side to kiss your neck sweetly.
You reach the smooth line of her back, fingers running up and down to feel her body, toned with constant discipline but curvy enough to grip and squeeze erotic flesh. You help remove the white t-shirt and throw it across the room. Zuha does the same, trailing her hand up from your abdomen and to your pecs before pulling your shirt off. Her palm briefly brushes your hardened nipples. You wince unexpectedly.
âStill sensitive?â She coos sweetly.
You chuckle and nod.
Her plotting eyes stare at you, a trance-like gaze taking over now, as she brings her hands to your shoulder blades, making you puff out your chest. Without breaking eye contact, she lowers her head to lick your nipple.
âZuha.â You seethe through gritted teeth.
âHm?â She continues to lick, spreading saliva around the areola. She licks the other one now, wrapping her lips around to suckle gently.
âOh fuck, Zuha.â
âWhat is it?â Her head moves with each long lick, positioning and repositioning her tongue to get better angles. She releases the bud from her mouth to look up at you. âCâmon, tell me.â Her voice is a raspy whisper now.
âThat feels good.â You wince out.
âWhat does?â She licks counterclockwise on your areola, avoiding the center. âThis?â The flat of her tongue travels across your nipple.
âOrâŚâ Zuha pulls back a bit. ââŚthis?â She wraps her mouth around your whole nipple, her steaming mouth suckling while her tongue flicks the hardened tip.
âGah, fuck! Y-Yes, Zuha, both. Both feel good.â Your brain processes the electricity traveling down your chest and up your spine. You were ticklish, but you felt yourself leaning in closer to Zuha.
Expertly, you feel her legs leave your lower back as her feet stop at the waistband of your boxers. She continues the assault on your sensitive bud, all while pushing your underwear downward, releasing your flexing shaft.Â
You let out an impressed chuckle. âUmâŚâ
âBallet.â Zuha boasts with a strange mixture of horny pride evident in her voice as she speaks.
You comply, kicking the boxers away, your rod now level with her steaming pussy. With her other hand riding up your chest, her fingers roll your left nipple as her mouth latches onto the right. You squirm slightly, the warmth of her tongue slathering across your pebbling nip, as you grip the overhead handles of the cupboards. Her right hand sneakily slips in between your bodies, tracing down your abdomen and finally to your hard cock. You jolt forward on instinct, roughing your erection along Zuhaâs palm. She giggles sweetly, her breath betraying how amused she is at the situation. She stops licking your chest for a bit to spit on her hand before returning it to your impatient shaft. She coats the length with her spit and works you, twisting and pulling along, her thumb glossing over the slightly reddened tip.
âGod, it was always so fucking big.â She leans in, a hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer. Your foreheads touch now, your breaths colliding as her chest rises and falls. Her vanilla-scented hair was a mess, covering most of her features, but she made sure you could see her face in open-mouthed pleasure. She jerks you off for a couple more minutes, matching each moan you make with her own, before rubbing your cockhead against her slick entrance. You both groan simultaneously. You take the hint and prop both Zuhaâs arms around your neck as you step in closer, palm guiding the tip, aiming at her core. You push your shaft a few times, the underside rubbing the ridge of her pussy lips, coating and lubricating it, teasing her in the process.
âPlease.â She whimpers.
âBegging?â You chuckle, surprised. âThatâs new.â
âShut up. Iâve just been really needyâŚâ She whispers, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
âNo, no, I like it. Itâs hot.â You give her a peck, once on the lips and once on the forehead.
âFuck me then. Please.â
With a long stroke, you thrusted in. She cries out with a whip of her head, hitting the hanging cupboards with a thud.
âShit!â Zuha laughs through the blunder, planting a kiss on your lips to keep the mood going. Her arms hook speedily around your neck as her legs interlock just at the small of your back.
âCareful.â You hiss through the kisses you trailed along the side of her jaw. You grip her waist as you thrust forward, fucking her against the cupboards more carefully now. You pull back to feel your length smoothly retreat from her tight groin, her heat contrasting with the temperature of her apartment. You slowly push back in, drawing out a long moan from Zuha, her brows furrowing as she shuts her eyes.
âYes, yes, fill meâ God.â She cries out, her nails scratching and gripping your traps as her shins push you forward. You tighten your hold on her sides, squeezing and bruising her waist, your digits digging into her curves. You fuck her deep and strong, leaning into your strokes as you show her how much you missed her. You hear her walls squelch around your cock with every entry, lubing up and down your meat. The sound is erotic, your bodies the instruments, her cries the accompaniment.
Zuha is tight and accepting, but also combative â she would bite your earlobe, pull on your hair, or scratch the line of your back. When your lips strayed too far, sheâd pull you back in. When youâd deviate from the angle she likes, sheâd lock her legs tighter. It was a struggle for control, really â a competition to show whoâs missed the other more, and youâve definitely missed her.
And so you slow down abruptly, shocking Zuha.
âW-what are youââ
âBallet, right?â You grip her full thigh, shifting her right leg to prop it on your shoulder, pulling her body toward you in the process. She jerks forward with a deep groan as you remain locked inside her, her body finally angling sideward to accommodate the new position. You pressed against her deeper now, the position granting you new grounds to explore.
âOh fuckâ oh fuck, youâre so deepâŚâ Zuhaâs moans come from her diaphragm now. âYouâre so deep in me. Oh God, oh God yes, yes.â
You take a look at her thighs, how perfectly succulent they are, inheriting the roundness from her ass as it tapers off to her sexy, toned legs. Her calf rests on the left side of your head as your cock spears her in twain. You were in the middle of it all, bearing witness to Zuhaâs undoing. Her head rests against the tiled kitchen wall with her arms spilled over past the rice cooker and sink, steadying and gripping with all her ability.
You place a hand on the knee atop your shoulder, simultaneously reaching down to palm her exposed breast. You start slow at first with experimental strokes, feeling out the new angle and Zuhaâs novel tightness. You allow her left leg to hang free in the space between your legs, finally giving you the most amount of access you could have, driving your midriff and groin flush against the inside of her thigh.
âHoly fuck.â Zuha whimpers.
âAre you okay?â You gulp, sweat dripping down your forehead.
âYouâre splitting me. Youâre hitting me so deep. Oh shitâ Christ!â Zuha doesnât even stare at you now. Her lids remain closed, brows scrunched in permanent euphoria.
You tighten your hold on her wanton thigh while rolling her hardened nip between your fingers. With every mewl and cry, you thrust back deeper into Zuha, analyzing the subtle changes in her face and expression, evaluating how you could switch up every pound, every rail into her greedy sex. Your cock strains each time you thrust, the tense muscle invading her warm walls repeatedly, driving itself to find release.
âJesus, I could fuck you like this every day.â You release a quick exhale.Â
âShit, yes, please. I want that, oh fuck I want that.â
âYeah? You want me to fuck you like this every day, Zuha? You wanna be bent over, split in half, every time, hm?â You pick up the pace.
âGod, yes!â She yelps now.
âMhm, yeah? You want me to pound away at you, while you just take it? You want me to just fuck you over every surface in this apartment?â You time your thrusts right, creating a rhythm from the constant thud on the cupboards.Â
Zuha grips you, nails digging into your forearm, as you rough your way into her, your cock pulsing eagerly, hitting just the right spots to have her droning on and on with an incohesive hum.
âAnswer.â You whisper low, a hand coming down to slap her ass cheek.
âYes! Please, oh pleaseâŚâ
âYeah, I bet youâre gonna miss me when youâre in the Netherlands, huh? You want me to fuck you there, too, hm? Fuck you all around your small flat just before class? Fuck you until you leak cum while youâre practicing?â
âY-yes!â Fuck, fuck, fuck, I want that, please. Itâs you, itâs you, I only want you, itâs so different when itâs you. Shitâ I need you and this fucking cock of yours. Oh fuck! My fingers arenât enough, please.â She pleads, whispering rapidly.
âYou only want me, huh?â
âOh God, yes, I only want you...â Zuha gulps, her breathing now ragged and exhausted. âJ-justâ Come with me to the Netherlands. I canât take it when youâre not here. Come fuck me there, too.â
The words stumble from Zuhaâs lips unintentionally. Was she delirious? Maybe. Her slurred speech definitely didnât help her case. Youâre stunned, so you suddenly miss a beat, breaking the rhythm. But hearing her only wanting you made you grind harder, so you compensate on your next pump. You rub a particular spot, which makes Zuha twitch accidentally, her vice walls clamping around your meat. You lurch forward to steady yourself, your chest rising and falling.
âFuck it. Iâll follow you all around the world just to have you like this.â Your fingers gloss over her trim thigh muscle, gripping her skin tightly as you plough over and over again. She winces a bit as your digits sink deeper into her curves. âBent. Twisted. Gripped. Chased. Owned.â
âI-Iâm yours. Iâm yoursâŚâ
Having had enough of splitting her in half sideways, you ease up on the pistoning of your hips. You gently lower Zuhaâs shin off of your shoulder, putting her leg down, allowing her to regain her balance gracefully, all while you remain hilted in her. The corkscrew sensation of her slick sends tingles through your thighs as you groan out softly. Zuha now grips the countertop while sheâs bent over, her hair flowing down her bare back, apple-shaped ass fully exposed and impaled. You push the remaining length of your meat in her, gripping and bringing her waist up as you press against her back. Zuha leans her head on your shoulder.
âHey.â She whispers.
âYeah?â You whisper back.
âSay you love me...â
âI-I love you, Zuha.â You thrust once.
She bites her lip in the process of suppressing a moan. She rolls her hips slowly. âAgain.â
âG-Godâ I love you, Zuha.â You pull back only to slam back in firmly.
âYouâŚwhaâwhat do youâŚWhat do you love about me?â Her eyes close as she cries out.
âWellâŚI love your neck.â You lick the length of her neck up to her earlobe. You grip her waist tighter, fingers ridging on the sleek lines of her abs. You thrust once. This makes her whimper and hiss.
âI love your tits.â You cup around to the front and take her breasts in both your hands. âHow they feel, how soft they are, how hard your nipples can be.â You run your fingers across the sensitive peaks as you ram it in her again. She emits a shaky moan.
âI love this ass of yours.â You bring a palm down hard, striking the pound of flesh. A mix of a gasp and a scream falls from her mouth, her body in a rigid arch as you support her from behind. âLove how huge it is, how round your cheeks are when I cup it, and how tight it can be.â You reach down with your thumb, making a circle motion at the rim of her ass, teasing entrance and reaping the sounds Zuha makes.Â
âAnd I love your pussy.â You hold her sides once more before giving a shallow thrust. âYou grip me so well, so hot and tight around my cock like this. Love how much youâre leaking all over me, how good you take me each time.â
Zuha hisses, sucking air. âYes-yes-yes, Iâll take all of you.â
You finally thrust hard and quick, your thighs banging repeatedly on the base cabinet doors. Zuha lurches forward when you go faster, holding tighter on whatever she can grip, her body being pushed and pulled by the force of your rod poking her insides.
âGod, yes, you do me so good, you do me so fucking good.â Her lips are filthy, speaking ill and cursing.
You bottom out over and over again, pressuring her velvety walls as you thrust to the hilt each time. The sound of skin and flesh slapping against each other intoxicates you, riling you to keep going. You look downward, eyes trailing from the line of her back, to your lubricated length â it was hypnotic seeing her pussy lips spreading to accommodate your length and girth, how each push forward sends your meat disappearing deeper within her body. You slap an asscheek. The plump curve jiggles at the contact.
âJesus Christ, Zuha, youâre amazing.â The bumps and bangs of your legs on her kitchen cabinets have surely annoyed some of Zuhaâs neighbors, but you donât care. Back and forth, her body meets yours precisely, a moan clawing its way out of her throat each time you penetrate. But the pleasure eventually reaches an apex. You feel her walls clamp on you tighter. She hums and mumbles incoherently, desperately attempting to fill the silence and verbalize the torrent of feelings passing through her. Sheâs close.
âYou gonna c-cum?â You wheeze out.
âIâm gonna fucking cum again.â
âShit, okay, okay, just hold it! Iâm closeââ
âFuck, please!â She begs, her tone coming out a little harsher than she intended. Zuhaâs hand grips the back of your head as she angles her face sideward. Her tongue surges into your mouth in between dirty whispers. âJust cum with me, please. Oh God, I canât take itâ Please, cum with me.âÂ
You pound away at Zuha, her cheeks bouncing and recoiling as you railed her harder. Her head lurches forward weakly, consciousness slipping as you prolonged her edge. You close your eyes to feel more of her, how her wet pussy wraps each inch of your length, how each texture sparks a sound from Zuha, how warm youâd be if you just stay planted inside. Your breathing quickens as you feel the coil deep within you.
âZ-Zuha! I-Iâmââ
âYes! Yes! Oh my God, yes!â Zuha lets herself go. âT-Tell me you love me!â
âWhat?ââ Youâre confused, but your thrusts are on autopilot.
âTell me you love meâŚWhen you cum, tell me you love me.â
This spurs you on. âShit! I-I love youâ Holy fuck!â I love you, I love you so fucking muchâŚâ Your fingers dig into her sides as you pursue a deeper stroke.
She winces. âOh fuck, right there, yes, yes, I love you, I love youâŚâ
The tension in your core finally shatters as you orgasm vehemently. You burst deep between her twitching legs and her grasping cunt. You cum forcefully, sending off copious ropes of your seed, painting her insides white. You groan weakly, repeating her name like a hymn or prayer a devotee would voice whenever their faith was tested or whenever they fell to their knees to sing praise. You hump at Zuha erratically, groaning as you dump everything you had inside her, an offering to the temple that is her body.
Zuhaâs voice is gone at this point. She cums, a silent gasp in the sea of hair splayed on her face. She twitches and jerks occasionally, the onslaught of orgasm writhing out of her in surges. Her voice reaches a new pitch, exhales leaving her in short, vulnerable bursts. Her slick flows down your length, her walls clamping down on you as she rides her high. You hold her closer, hugging her as she pushes and shudders back, desperate to keep your length breached and wedged in her pussy.
The burden of the orgasm â the best orgasm youâve both had, ever â finally dissipates for both of you. You wobble forward, hugging Zuhaâs slim body as you lay your weight slightly on her. Zuha steadies both your bodies by propping her arms on the counter. Your palms trail down her arms to hold her hands. Your breathing syncs up as your forehead touches her back, just a few inches before her nape. You remain hilted, your cock still warm.
âWell.â She breaks the silence.
âYeah?â You kiss a spot on the midpoint of her spine.
âProbably canât get to ballet class tomorrow.â
You chuckle as you stand closer. Her walls squeeze slightly at the minuscule movement. You kiss up to the back of her head now, smooching her hair, then to her ear, then to her cheek. Her round eyes land on you, her stare dull, disarmed, diminished â glazed with the afterglow of sex, but made soft with a deep lingering affection â affection you can now confidently name love.
âYou alright?â You laugh gently as you softly bump your head on hers.
âNever been better.â She gives you a peck. âSo thatâs what it took for you to fuck me like that, huh?â
âShut up.â You chuckle. You pull out of her walls, a moan coming out of her as you depart. âCouldâve told me you loved me sooner if you wanted it that bad.â You say with a small smack of her thigh.
She gasps in fake hurt. âYou diss me as you pull out? I rescind my declaration then.â Zuha turns around slowly, still leaning on the counter for stability. âPlus, Iâm the one usually surprising you when we fuckâ Oh, sorry. When we make love.â She chides. Zuha leans back, the light catching her angle and casting subtle shadows across her body. Her tall, athletic frame is made a thousand times better by the fact that she is still fully naked. Her toned and sculpted midriff is completely on display, the result of consistent training and commitment, creating the prominent lines you were gawking at. You make a mental note to ravish them later.
âGosh, youâre really sexy.â You blurt.
A grin appears. Her nose scrunches for longer now, crescent eyes accenting the dimples on her cheeks as she laughs. She lightly punches your shoulder, but quickly reels you back in by the forearm. She wraps herself around you, your forearms tangling around her neck in an embrace. âYouâre sweet.â
You kiss her crown lightly, whispering slowly. âYouâre beautiful.âÂ
She sighs, her gaze studying you, a stiletto point threatening to pierce, but no cuts come. She sheathes the blade, a pout surfacing in its place. âIâve alwaysâŚlovedâŚthat about you.â Her lips linger on the word âloveâ, its utterance a paradox between novel and natural. She says it carefully, like setting down delicate china you bring out only once in a while â fragile and vulnerably open to destruction. âThe way youâd just tell me things. Me. The things you say are to me, and not just to who I think I am or who I think I should be. To Zuha.â
You smile lightly at the nickname you gave her. âZuha suits you better. Plus, I donât know you any other way.â You scramble around her kitchen, wearing your boxers and shirt, piling up garments, and gathering other flung articles of clothing (Zuhaâs panties landed on a plant).
âWouldnât want it any other way, either.â Zuha raises her arms in a stretch, her abs and back muscles flex as she wrings out the (s)exhaustion from her system. She walks by you, giving you a light peck on the cheek before sashaying into the bathroom.
You stride down the hall and back into her room, the place where it all began. The space was the same, except her sheets were pink now, a more lush color compared to the pastel blue you had lain on that first night. You dump the pile in the basket and tidy up some more scattered socks and pants. On Zuhaâs side of the bed, propped up on her end table and adjacent to her earrings, you see a new, smaller picture frame: you. A picture of you on your 3rd date with Zuha. You were holding two large paper bags of groceries, vegetables, and cartons peeking out the top. Hooked on your elbows were more bags â one with paper towels, another with soap and sponges. And in your mouth, wedged between your teeth, was a Fors croissant. You chuckle once as you adjust the frame.
âI think thatâs when I realized I was falling in love with you.â
You turn around to see Zuha adjusting her pajamas, her shirt clinging to her slim frame, wet hair tied in a high bun, a towel hanging from her shoulder. She gives a small smile before hooking the towel off to the side of the door.
âBut this was whenâŚâ You start.
âMhm. Barely a week since we started dating.â She kicks around a loose carpet tuft. âI guess Iâve loved you since then.âÂ
She shifts around awkwardly, but continues. âHey, about that night you told me you loved me.â
âYeah?â
âDonât even think for a second that I hesitated because I wasnât serious with youâ with us.â
âI know.â
âGood. Because I was. I am. I justâŚI was just scared.â
âI know, Zuha. I know you were. But I appreciate you telling me. Thank you.â
âOkay, good,â she says with a nod.
Zuha gracefully moves over toward the bed, shifting the sheets and making space for you. She sits, propping her back on the headboard, and brings the covers up to her knees, eagerly waiting for you.
You comply, scooching beside her and leaning back similarly. She lays her head on your shoulder, her gaze only pointing straight ahead.
âDid you mean it?â You ask.
âMean what?â She asks back.
âYou wanting me to come with you. To the Netherlands. Or was that justâŚsex?â
A deep inhale, then a long sigh. âOf course I want you to come with me.â Her voice is smaller now, knees locking closer, and fingers gripping tighter. âI could barely handle you not coming home, not coming to me. How much more could I take being so far away from you?â
You take note of the new tone in Zuhaâs voice. There is this strong vulnerability to her now, and her honesty only serves to strengthen her person, not weaken her fortitude. Her posture is small, but her heart is larger now. Long past inhibitions about baring so-called âweaknessesâ, acknowledging strong emotions, and leaving ample space to be herself have now been dissolved.
âOh, God, I want to come with you too. But I really canât just up and leave my parents, Zuha. I barely have enough to help with rent if I do come with you.â The reality resurfaces and weighs on both of you. Zuha still had to leave, and you still had to stay.
âI know.â She mumbles.
You put an arm around her as she tucks her head on your chest, nearer your chin.
âBut I donât want to break up.â She murmurs against your shirt.
âI donât want to, either.â
âDo we really have to choose?â A quiet whine leaves her lips.
âWe might have to.â You rub her shoulder, tracing circles on her soft skin.
âIf we doâŚbreak up,â Her voice cracks a bit, but she recovers with a sniffle and a cough. âIâd rather we do it on good terms now and not down the line when weâre at each otherâs throats or over the phone.â
You exhale gently. âIâd rather have that too.â
You two stay silent for a while.
âDo you want to break up?â A whisper from Zuha so small you think twice about hearing it. She doesnât look at you.
âNever.â You whisper, too. You stare at the back of her head and the curve of her cheek, her lashes moving as she blinks.
Zuha suddenly sits up, propping her palms flat on your chest, head looking toward you now. The blade returns to her eyes, lamp light glinting off her gaze. âSo we donât. We never will.â
âCan you do long distance?â
âI will if itâs you.â
âWhat happens if we both get busy? And we fight? And we lose time for each other?â
âIâd still want you.â
âBe realistic, Zuha.â
âI am.â Do you still feel the cuts of her gaze? You do. Swift slices of her pupils gash your arms, neck, and lips. She shakes her head with a sigh. âIâd still want you. The same awkward, speaking-to-windows, lukewarm-coffee-loving, nerd in scrubs. We can make it work.â Her hand cups your cheek now, minuscule lights like flecks sprinkle her pupils â tears.
You lean your head into her palm, savoring the warmth of her skin stroking your face.
She takes a gulp. âIf we get busy, then we get busy. If we fight, then we fight. If we lose time, then we lose it. But, Iâm still coming back to you.â
You shift on the bed a bit, linking your arms around her neck, allowing Zuha to put her chin on your chest. Her body lies on top of yours as she stares up at you while hugging your torso. You breathe slowly with her.
âZuha, Iâm still coming back to you, too. But I donât want to lose time for you. I donât want to fight with you. I donât want to see us that way.â
âI donât want to, either! But Iâd rather have that than not have you at all.â
âOh, Zuha.â You take her face in your hands, thumbs adjusting stray hairs and tucking it behind her ear.
âNo! You canâtâ Donât do that. Donât âOh, Zuhaâ me.â She veers her head away from your grasp, eyes staring at you for a beat. She bites her lip, stifling a sob. âI just got you backâŚâ She chokes up, a free tear sliding down the side of her cheek.
You hush her gently as you bite back a sob of your own. âI know, Zuha. I know.â
âAnd donâtââ She gulps, trying to find the words. âDonât think Iâm childish for finally wanting something for myself, enough to be selfish about itâ enough for me to throw tantrums over it like a stupid kid.â
âZuha, I would never.â
âI justâŚâ Her brows furrow as she looks up. âWhy canât I have what I want?â Her face vanishes into your chest, tears soaking your shirt as you rub her shoulder blades.Â
She cries.Â
There it is: the plea Zuha has just breathed into existence. A whine in the face of the world. A conniption so ego-tistical, so selfish, and so immature, itâs childlike.Â
And so you respond in kind.
You stiffen up your upper lip, extinguishing the bawl attempting to bubble and rise. You grab her palm, urging her to look up at you. âFuck it. Letâs do it. Letâs just give it a shot.â
-
ââŚand youâve got your room key?â
âI do.â You tap your chest, feeling the keycard you slipped into your breast pocket earlier.
âPassport?â
You show your phone camera a slim browned-leather keeper. âI have it here, Mom.â
âExtra money?â Your dad pipes up now.
âEnough for dinner and a cab back to the hotel.â
âGood man.â
âDo you have enough data for your maps?â Your mom stutters now, the nerves evident in the shakiness of her question.
âIâm not that dumb, guys. I got this.â A chuckle leaves you.
âAlright. Just be safe, and come home safe. Good luck.â With a sigh, your parents slowly let you go. The phone clicks off.Â
Now, finally, on to the agenda. The show had just finished, with droves of people moving across the wide theater lobby, walking briskly to wherever their plans tell them to go. The carpeted floor effectively muffles the numerous footfalls, isolating only the sounds of conversation. Hushed words fly, whispers creep, and voices adjust. You remain silent, though, this stalwart constant standing still in the blur. A few shoulders whip past you, polite apologies making their way into your ears as compensation. A few adjustments to your gait and stride, and youâre all good. Nothing could really ruin your mood now.
You spot an empty bench in the atrium, this comforting spot illuminating to ease the aches of pacing. The sleek padded cushion groans, catching your full weight as you lean back to stretch. Your legs are crossed as you check the time. 8:22. You could stay a few more minutes. Or hours. You just had to know.
And so you go through the routine of anybody whoâs socially awkward and unfortunate enough to be stuck in a public place: check your phone, stare at the ceiling, go to the bathroom (without actually peeing), and then back to the phone. Itâs a cycle, really. A cycle youâre very much proud of, because youâve gotten quite good at appearing like a normal person on the outside. A few pretend phone calls? Amazing play. Pseudo-interest in the shows playing next week and all the minute details of their posters? Absolutely masterful.Â
Did you appear like a person who knew what they were doing and not someone wandering around, grasping at straws, clawing at a glimmer of a slim chance? You hope so. Did they notice you awkwardly pacing and going up and down the hall? Thatâs not the point. The point is to masquerade as someone whoâs notâŚafraid.
In truth, the pit in your stomach is growing. Afraid of what, exactly? Well, nothing, to a degree. You were afraid to find out that you flew exactly 5330 miles, gulped through the jet lag, lugged bags across stations, navigated across language barriers, and fumbled through faux pas, for nothing. Not even for a glimpse, a sideways glance, or a chat. You were worrying that, because of the past years of being broken up, and despite constantly grinding to make your own, striving to complete internships, acing departmental exams, and graduating with flying colors, it would all have been for nothing. You guys would still end up as nothing.
Why couldnât you have what you want?
You slump on the bench, your unkempt appearance, tousled hair, and untucked shirt now obviously inappropriate for the formal setting and the more well-dressed theater goers leaving the maroon-carpeted lobby and down the polished mahogany exit steps. You donât care anymore. You just absolutely had to wait.Â
So you wait.Â
And wait.Â
And wait.
The crowd thins out, save for a few pairs scrambling and hoping to catch the few remaining tickets for tomorrowâs performance. The buzz of talk soon dies down, replaced by the sound of rain falling and the crisp crash of tires driving over puddles and gutter water outside. You barely noticed the rain before, but you do now.
If only your mom could see you. I knew it. I told you youâd forget something, sheâd say.
âSorry, Mom.â A mutter from you. âSorry, little umbrella.â Back at home, your umbrella ruffles in acceptance of the whispered apology.
Then you feel it.Â
You touch a finger to your right cheek, tracing an invisible line from your face to your lips. A cut.Â
Confusion fills you. Your breathing slowly picks up now. This was familiar. Youâve felt this before, this gash. It was this stinging feeling like a subtle paper cut, the type of paper cut youâd only feel after a substantial amount of time, but even then, the damage was already done. You unexpectedly blush as if blood were leaking from the slice. You feel your face heat up as your heartbeat quickens, the blood pulsing just beneath the surface. It becomes harder to gulp, too, as your throat dries, your voice stagnating and burrowing deep within your courage.
You turn to where the cut came from. Long-dead abilities revive within you. The sound of precipitation distorts as things come to a dead halt. Raindrops disobey gravity. People freeze in place, their stride suddenly stopping.
And yet she still walks toward you. Even if you stop time, she still walks toward you. Even if youâve been broken up for all those years, she still walks toward you.
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Everyone wants a piece of of her. Everyone wants a piece of Naoi Rei.
Whether itâs a lucky shot from a camera, a quick clip on the phone, a little aegyo if she indulges it, or even just being able to breathe the same air as herâeveryone wants her. And when sheâs dressed in this ivory satin dress that drapes downwards beneath her collarbone like the folds of rose petals, she looks absolutely irresistible from any and every angle.
Just divine.
But some people are greedy. Desiring more than what theyâre allowed. Like this asshole who ducks underneath the velvet rope to reach out for Rei. The idol just glances at him. Unflinching.
Because youâre already there, quick to sweep your arm across the air and knock this idiot onto the ground.
The clamoring crowd converts into a sea of gasps as they watch you pin his wrists together behind him and press your knee against the back of his head, forcing him to munch on the carpet as you call for backup. When the rest of security arrives, you let them take over, fix the creases of your suit, and jog back towards Rei.
âBack off, people. Give her some space. Sheâs had a long day,â you address the crowd with a raised hand.
But theyâre all idiots too. Just more restrained ones. They donât really care for her. They just want her. Like sheâs made to be desired. Made to be adored. Made to be coveted.
So they continue bathing her in flashing lights, continue scrambling and pressing up against the barriers, continue screaming at the top of their lungs for but a modicum of her attention. And all the while, youâre the only one allowed to stick close to Rei, hand hovering just above the small of her back, never touching it, keeping yourself at armâs length.
Because this is as close as youâre allowed to get to her.
Once youâre both inside the hotel, you waste no time ushering her through the lobby. She turns a few heads, but that much is to be expected from someone like Rei. The elevator arrives at the ground floor, and in moments, youâre both catching the last few glimpses of the crowd held outside by the security team as they all fade from view with the closing of the doors.
You press a button. Eleventh floor.
âDid you really have to slam him that hard? Such an aggressive man.â
You roll your eyes at her, returning to your cross-armed position three or four feet away from her. The elevatorâs empty except for the two of you, yet she maintains her distance, clutching her Louis Vuitton in hand.
âTch, would you rather he slam you? If anyoneâs getting aggressive, itâs them. Fucker really thought he could get away with it too.â
One step. To the side.
âMm, I donât mind aggressive. You should know that.â
The heat by your collar chokes you. You swallow and the fit of your tie around your neck is made more present. âDo I now? Last time I checked, I was the one walking out of the hotel with scratch marks on my chest and back.â
Another step. Closer.
âLast time I checked, I was the one left on the bed with spank marks all over my thighs and all of that cum dripping out of me. Mm, I almost melted into the floor the floor that night. Fuck. Could have broken my back, you know?â
âHuh, but donât you like getting your back blown out?â you retort with a scoff, and you glance sideways at her. Which is a mistake. Because you get a glimpse of the way Reiâs sharp jawline lifts when she smirks at you. âI do. I really do, donât I?â
Ding.
The elevator doors part, but neither of you take the invitation to exit. You can feel the air-conditioning of the opulent hallway wafting into the small elevator, but the tension between you two is anything but dispersed.
Rei makes the first move and steps out, wagging a finger at you in a come-hither motion as she does. âCome. Checkoutâs in ten hours.â
You trail behind her, a pace and a half away. Rei gives you this unadorned and unabashed view of her bare back all the way down to the cut of her dress by her ribs. You can see the way her shoulders rise and fall with her breath, the way her muscles tense in anticipation, the way the column of her spine goes rigid once she stops outside her door.
âKeycard?â
You oblige, leaning forward to swipe it into the terminal and unlock her room. She enters first and is already kicking out of her matching white heels. But as soon as you turn around to close the door behind you, you feel hands etching circles against your back.
âMm, youâre tense. Tired from having to watch me all day?â
You grip the doorknob, back still towards her. âWhen am I never tired? Youâre always a fucking handful.â
She is. Rei really is.
As the head of her securityâand as her personal guardâyouâre supposed to be keeping trouble away from her. But no one gave you a manual on how to keep her away from trouble. Rei always has a way of finding it. Grinding too intensely when sheâs tipsy at the afterparties, allowing what little clothes she sometimes wore to slip down her petite body, roaming her fingers over places incredibly unbecoming of an idol.
Sheâs definitely a fucking handful. It irritates you. Whether as her guard or as something else, youâre not quite sure.
Among her recent offenses was her little stint earlier at the awards show, when she got too close for comfort to her cohost. She was practically begging him to place his hand on her ass.
You still remember the burning in the back of your eyes when you saw it happen. More so when she smirked at you as she did it
Speaking of roamingâher hands roam across your torso like they might be in search for something. You let her, and you can sense her drawing closer towards you. Once you hear the ever-so-slight motion of her tiptoeing, and once you hear the coast of her breath against your ear, your whole body goes slack.
âAre you going to do something about it then?â
You spin around, but Reiâs ahead of you. She grips your tie so hard it bends you downwards to her level. Raising a brow, she gives your leash a testing tug. âMm, I knew it. You were fucking me with your eyes the entire time, werenât you? Couldnât wait for us to get back to the hotel?â
Trying to temper your breath, you grunt. âAnd I bet you were just itching to get stripped off your new little designer dress, yeah? Couldnât wait for me to be the one to do it?â
âYouâre jealous,â she prods, physically too with an index finger against your chest.
âItâs called work. Donât get it twisted.â
She twists your necktie until your face is an inch away from hers. âHm? But if youâre still âworkingâ, I canât really beg you to rip this outfit off of me now, can I? Maybe I should ask someone else to do it for me. I can think of a fewâ.â
Rei knew what she was doing. And you fucking hated her for it.Â
But that didnât stop you from shutting her up by crashing your lips into hers and stealing her breath. She holds you steady with one hand against your shoulder and the other wrapped around your tie as she moans into every attempt you make to try and tame her devilish little tongue.
One step. Then another. Until sheâs stumbling backwards. Deeper into the room. Beyond the vestibule. Past the small kitchen and the adjacent comfort room. All the way through the living room until sheâs pressed up against the windows overlooking Saitama.
Rei whimpers and pulls away, and thereâs this audible pop from how tightly sealed her lips were. âGod, youâre so needy, arenât you? How long have you been waiting for this?â
âEver since I caught you changing in the dressing room this morning,â you utter, face hovering over hers.
She licks her lower lip and shakes her head. âThe truth.â
âEver since we met up at the airport to fly over to Japan.â
Rei rewards your honesty by sliding the hand on your shoulder down towards your crotch, cupping it, massaging it, feeling its weight and heft and strain against your pants and underwear like she might discover how pent up you are from it. âMm, you wanted to fuck me on the plane? What was I wearing yesterday? The shorts?â
âThe shorts,â you mutter as sheâs palming over where your tip might be. You canât get fully hard like this, and she knows, and she keeps you in this semi-erect state as she continues. âWhat did you imagine? Pulling the curtains behind us while you pound into me in first-class?â
âWanted to fuckingâgodâeat your pussy out and feel those thighs clenching against me while youâre losing your fucking words.â
Her tongue flicks against her lower teeth as she giggles in a low tone. âSo needy. But I like you like that. Like this. Just within armâs reach for a good fuck.â
Rei only needs one hand to unzip you, to unbuckle your belt, to yank your pants and underwear down by their garters. Sheâs done this before. Way too many times to count. She steadies her grip on your necktie as she cups your balls first, rolling them between her delicate little fingers, stroking your underside with just her thumb.
âYou know, one of the cabin crew was giving me the look after takeoff. He kept coming back to my seat to ask if I âneeded anythingâ,â she starts, giving your balls a gentle squeezeânot enough to hurt, just enough to remind you whoâs working you. âYou didnât so much as bat an eye. I wonder why.â
You want to grumble something back, but Reiâs quick to glide her digits up your shaft and start shuffling them across the crown of your head. âMmm, he looked cute too. Bet he was imagining me sucking him off behind the trolley. Bet heâd stretch my throat good. But this?â
She lets go of your tie at last and bends forward to kiss your tip, locking eyes with you the entire time, smiling. âHeâll never get this.â
Rei sinks to her knees.
In all of her glamor and attitude, you watch as a divine goddess like her descends to her knees, fingers dragging against the front of your thighs, leveling herself with your cock. Itâs such a delight seeing her kneel. For all that sheâs worth, she looks so fucking good on her knees before you.
And you make sure you let her know.
Rei licks the head once. Then twice. Testing. Tasting. Feeling the way your tip twitches and shudders in her grasp. Delighting in the way your pre-cum drips onto her palate. She grips the base of your cock so she can swirl her wet tongue and spread the drool around, licking stripes back and forth the length of your member, tracing the outlines of your veins like sheâs mapping you out.
âFuck ⌠yes ⌠Just like that. Youâre drooling so much. Hungry. arenât you?â
Rubbing her pursed lips between your cock and balls, she looks up at you with challenging eyes. âThen feed me. Feed me with this thick, fat cock of yours.â
Placing your hands on your hips, you give her an inviting nod. âHelp yourself first. Letâs see what you can do.â
Giggling behind her lip bite, Rei begins stroking your cock faster now that itâs coated in a sheen of her saliva. She wraps her mouth around the tip again and hums into it like sheâs speaking into a microphone, all while jerking you off. With a deep breath, she takes you in. Deeper. Until you knock against the back of her throat. She swallows around your head and withdraws, but doesnât pull out fully.
Rei repeats this tantalizing motion over. And over. Again.
She picks up the pace. Lips smashing against the curl of her fingers to meet her hand at the point where she can go no deeper. Rei gags every time you threaten to push past the tight ring of her throat, but she doesnât pull away. She never pulls away. She just lets the drool gush out of her tightly sealed lips, dribble down her chin, and drip onto the top of her dress.
You look down at her and the sight of it all just makes you moan. Her full lips are still painted pretty. Her makeup still coloring her cheeks. Her dress still wrapping around her like a sinful little present you canât help but want to unwrap. She looks polished. Presented. Perfect.
And youâre going to change that.
Splaying your fingers wide across her head, you grip her this way to steady Rei. Her eyes widen in surprise, and you just chuckle. âEasy now. Shit ⌠time for me to do the feeding.â
âMmmh?â she asks, unable to get more out of her before youâre thrusting into her mouth. âNGHHHHâHCKKKK!â
You fuck her throat.
Your hips carry you forward as you lean into her and begin pounding into her pretty presented face. Enjoying the warmth and wetness of her mouth. Enjoying the way her eyes flicker and water. Enjoying how her throat bulges from your repeated intrusion.
âYeah? You fucking like that? You talk so much but you look much better like thisâon your knees, like a tight little suckslut drooling all over my fucking cock,â you bellow, tightening your core. Reiâs eyes roll upwards when she gags again, but you donât stop. You donât fucking stop feeding her the dick sheâs been oh-so-craving. You think about the flight. You think about her teasing. You grip her head harder. âIs this what you wanted? Fuck ⌠Look at me when I fuck your throat.â
On command, she places her trembling hands on your thighs and tilts her chin upwards. Not only does this give you an unobstructed view of her sweaty, messy face. Rei makes it so much easier to align your dick with the length of her mouth and throat so you can hammer into her harder. Faster.Â
Youâre so used to the luxury of her long hair, often bundling it several times around your fingers as handles for throatfucks like this. But tonight, youâll have to make do with entrenching your digits into her bob.
âGod ⌠fucking ⌠damn it! You take it so fucking good. You like that donât you? You fucking love getting your throat used like this, yeah?â you grunt in between powerful and deep thrusts that shake her entire form. âSay it. Say you love it.â
Rei chokes up and pushes past your cock lodged deep inside her mouth, but her tongue is pinned to one side as you continue your relentless facefucking.
âI said say it. Speak up. You love giving me an earful whenever Iâm on the clock. Why donât you spit it back out for me and give me a mouthful in return.â
Clawing, squeezing at your thighs, Rei grumbles and curses you with her glare. âFhkk ⌠HLRKâyhh âŚâ
âWhat was that?â you taunt, thrusting faster. âCanât hear you.â
âGLKKK HLCKKKâFHHKK! YHH!â
You smirk. âSpeak up now. Come on. You can do it. Use that mouth of yours. Use that fucking mouth of yours.â
When you lower your free hand to palm over her left breast from outside her dress, she lets out an unprecedented moan and relaxes. You take advantage of this and push in as deep as you can, bring her head down all the way to the base of your cock to the point that sheâs kissing your stomach. You hold her there. Hold her like this. Even as she struggles. Even as she writhes. Even as she blows bubbles of spit in dollops by your balls. Not letting go. Not until she says it.
Not until she admits it.
Itâs only when one of her hands flies to your wrist by her chest, squeezing it, moaning on your dick, that she utters something in a broken tongueâa turn of phrase only you would understand. Because youâre the only one sheâs ever said it to with a face full of cock.
And then, you let go.
Rei bursts from your grip and gasps for air the moment she resurfaces. Fingers combing through her hair, chest heaving, eyes still a little glazed, but her lips? Her thick puffy lips? Theyâre twitching. Quivering. In anticipation. In excitement.
She smiles.
âYou ⌠ngh ⌠taste so delicious,â she stutters, still catching her breath. Rei whips her hair back and bites a finger. âMmm, I want more.â
You part your lips to speak, but Rei is faster yet again. Sheâs quick to grip your tie and pull you in. At first, you think she might kiss you, but when she instead holds you close like this, hearing her every pant, feeling her every breath on your face, you sense the faint inkling of an idea forming in her twisted mind.
Rei lets go of you and takes a step back, hiding her hands behind her with an attempt at a coy smile blossoming across her face. Winking, she pleads through a breathy tone. âI think Iâm done with this dress now. Could you help me take it off?â
This sudden slowdown rattles you. You were absolutely ready to finish down her throat for the first time tonight. But this change of pace is a welcome one because you see Rei turning towards the window once more, presenting her backside to you. Like a ballerina mid-pirouette. Itâs then that you see the delicate strip of a zipper hidden behind the top folds of her dress.
She doesnât need to tell you twice.
You glide over to her, heart still pounding, light sweat coating your neck, hand unavoidably trembling as you reach for the zipper. Pinching it between your thumb and index, you peel the zipper downwards like you might pluck the petals off a rose. The zipper doesnât even go all the way down. Just goes far enough to loosen its grip on her figure. Just enough that when she parts her elbows to stop holding it up, the entire thing just comes undone.
And you come undone as well.
For Rei is completely naked now.
She glances over one shoulder, her side profile framed by the curve of her hair down to her chin. Thereâs a twinkle in her eyeâone of amusement. One that asks you, âHm? Why are you staring? Not like you havenât seen this before, have you?â
She steps out of the dress and turns your way, flaunting her full figure on display, coated by the halation of what little nightlights could seep in through the window. Your eyes immediately lock onto the translucent pads over her areola. âYou wore pasties?â
Not the most romantic thing to say right now, you admit.Â
âWhat? Am I supposed to have my nipples constantly grazing the inside of my dress?â
âNo, I just figured someone like you would go full commando. Not something like ⌠this.â
She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms just underneath the swell of her breasts. Thereâs just something about the way her lithe yet full figure dances through the room that breathes new life into you. âWell, again, are you still going to just stare at me or are you going to take these off too?â
You bite your lip and step closer.
She ruined the pace. Slowed it down. But, perhaps, itâs time to get sensual now.
âWhat are you doing?â Rei asks as you glide your hands up and down her sides, really memorizing every curve of her. Drinking her in. Your eyes are parked on hers. It makes her look awayâcute.
âWhat am I doing?â you repeat, one hand drifting up from her stomach towards the fold between her breasts. âJust taking my time.â
âYou surely werenât doing that when you were pounding my throat just now,â she replies, which is interrupted by her moans as you cup and lift one breast now. âNghh ⌠stop teasing me. Itâs getting cold.â
âLet me fix that.â
Rei shudders when you whisper in her ear that way, but she finds herself trembling all the more when your other hand roams down the slope of her back, pausing just above her ass. You plant a garden of kisses across her neck, tracing her collarbone with your lips, and decorating the other side of her nape with more pecks.
âFuck ⌠yes âŚ,â she mutters, not even aware of it. Her own hands are rubbing up and down your forearm and waist. Itâs almost like you two are lovers right now, indulging in a moment of passion. But you try not to think about it too muchâlest reality shatters your expectations. âMmm, squeeze them.â
You obey, sinking your digits into the soft flesh of her exposed breast. This merits a higher-pitched groan from her, one that tightens her throat. Her head is rolling in circles as you bombard her with a mixture of kisses and gropes, palming over her hardening nipples. She loses her breath when you give her buds long continuous strokes, but she also whimpers in your grasp whenever you add more pressure with your pinches.
Biting her lip, Rei presses her forehead against your chest but you do not let up, swapping to her other breast now. Your kisses trail up past her chin, and when your lips find hers, sheâs taking you into her once more. Kissing you.
âNghh ⌠fuck ⌠Iâm so wet right now,â she confesses in between laps with her tongue, declaring her arousal like you need any more confirmation from how she entangles herself into you. âGod, Iâve been thinking about you all day. Wanted you to just kiss me after getting my make up done. Wanted ⌠mmhh ⌠ahh ⌠wanted you to just take me then and there in the dressing room.â
You pull away a moment to reply. âFuck, when I saw you with half your dress on, you canât imagine how hard I got on the spot. Walked with a limp just thinking about bending you over the vanity.â
She giggles and lifts her leg up, thinking you wonât notice her trying to grind against you while you play with her chest. âYeah? More âŚâ
âI wanted to stuff you, fill you up ⌠god ⌠wanted to see you bend over. You look so fucking sexy bent over, you know that? So delicious. Just wanted to see your pussy drip right into my mouth while I eat you out.â
Reiâs drawing blood from her lips now with how hard sheâs biting down. Arms wrapped around you neck, leg wrapped around your waist, she tugs you closer. âThen what are you waiting for? Eat me out.â
Lost in another maelstrom of kisses, you both donât know how you manage to even crash onto the couch without hurting yourselves.Â
Rei reaches for the remote, but you knock it away from her. âLet them hear it. I want them to hear how youââll moan for meâhow youâll be mine.â
Her eyes are set ablaze by your words, and she nods, wagging a finger at you. âMm, come and get a taste then.â
Stealing a few more kisses, you lean Rei against the backrest and push her knees towards the sides of her head. She knows how this goes, tucking her hands beneath them so she can hold them up for you.
Kneeling in front of her, you let it sink in first. The view.
Her moist pussy already leaving a mark on the leather. Her leg muscles tensing midair. Her round ass digging into the seat.
This? This is a view that youâre sure only you get to see.
You kiss her knee. The side of it. Trail downwards along her thigh. Thick. Supple. Smells like lavenderâher body wash. Rei shudders when your own hands come over her upper thighs, close to her hips. Gripping her. Keeping her spread out. Holding her in the optimal position for what youâre about to do.
Lowering your face towards her waiting snatch, you can already smell how horny she is. The scent of her pretty pink pussy permeates the air. Meanwhile, the woman whoâs got her body all conveniently positioned for you doesnât have the slightest clue that you can see the mewl that never leaves her lips, the neediness that warps her face.
You kiss her pussy. Just over the hood. Not quite there but close enough to make her feel something. Your breath is enough to make her lurch. But your lips? They make her beg.
âFuck ⌠lower please ⌠more âŚâ she pleads as you circle the outline of her nether bits. The soft of your nose rubs against her hood while you lap a few times at her quivering hole. Her knuckles turn white from how sheâs squeezing her legs into herself. âNghh! Your tongue âŚâ
âWhat about it?â
âPlease ⌠please âŚâ
âPlease what?â you probe, circling her clit but never daring to actually lick directly onto it.
âMMMHH! Please! Please ⌠lick me ⌠eat me out âŚâ
âOn one condition: you donât hold back a single fucking moan.â
Reiâs an idol. Sheâs got pipes for sure. But you love the way she sings for you when you really give it to her.
At first, itâs just little bounces. Little tilts and jilts of her head and neck. But thatâs only because youâre licking her at a conservative pace. When you begin to finally press the wall of your tongue and slather your palate against her dripping wet sex, itâs a two-for-one deal: she gets to feel the pleasurable twitches scatter all across her body, and you get a rich taste of her arousal.Â
Your tongue wraps and folds and slithers across the surface of her pussy, paying special attention to her clit, and when you sense sheâs still muting her voice, you part her hood with two fingers and flick the tip of your tongue rapidly against her exposed clitoris.
âAHHHH! AHHH AHHH SHIT! SHIT SHIT SHIT!â
You grip her thighs firm, face soaked in a mixture of your own drool and her juices, holding her firm, holding her steady, ensuring she wonât just fly away from the building tension, continuously dragging your tongue against her pussy.
You only pause to hum against her stomach. âAlready cumming? Such an easy slut. But you love being easy for me donât you?â
Thereâs an initial frustration in her eyes, but it gives way for whatâs honestâwhatâs primal. âI love being fucking easy for you. I love the way you make meâAHHH SHITâmake me get off so fast ⌠nghh ⌠AHHH ⌠so good!â
âThen get off to my tongue. Sing for me. Cum for me, Rei.â
Itâs when you call her name that she loses all control. âYeah? Just give in and letâ.â
âCUMMING!â
Your hands move behind hers to press her harder into the couch, lifting her ass up in the process. With this new angle, youâre able to lick her repeatedly without fail. Even when she detonates all over your face with a spray of squirt. Even when sheâs screaming into the empty hotel room for you to stop. Even when sheâs fidgeting and flopping her arms about to try and break free from your clutches.
You donât stop eating her out.
âGhhhh stop ⌠p-p-pleaseâPLEASE! Iâm t-t-t-too sen-sen-s-sensitive,â she slurs, each word dragging out, head too woozy to even form coherent thoughts beyond her cries for mercy. But you donât afford her that. Sheâs been extra abrasive today. Extra bratty.
And Rei knows what brats get.
Her hands find purchase now by the sides of your head as her feet crash onto the edge of the couch. But as sheâs trying to force her legs shut, Reiâs post-orgasmic state renders her too weak to really put up any fight. âFuck fuck ⌠ffffuuuuckk ⌠c-c-canât ⌠s-s-stop âŚâ
âDo you really want me to stop?â you taunt, peeking up from her mound, staring right at her unfocused eyes. You love the sight of her looking all vulnerable and meek like this. Itâs such a fucking delight to see her come to ruin by her own volition. âTell me, do you want me to stop?â
Her head full of haze shakes left and right as she licks her lip.
And thatâs all you need.
As you part from her, Rei whines breathy through her clenched teeth, but this is immediately replaced by a high whimper when you spank her pussy. Lightly. For now.
Her eyes widen and they manage to lock onto you. âWhatâNGHH!â
You spank her again. But you make sure to rub over her reddened hood gently with your fingers to soothe her.
After a few rolls over her mound, you dip two fingers into her and stretch her open. You curl your fingers upwards, drag it against the top of her inner walls, feeling for that sweet spongy spot within her that makes her coil up and babble.
Youâre losing her. Quickly. As you begin fingerfucking Rei, her insides clench around your digits and refuse to let them go.
âYou just came and youâre already itching to cum again, arenât you?â you provoke her, flicking her clit with a finger to grab her attention. Sheâs too busy dissolving into the couch as her body forgets how to operate itself, flailing about. âDo you like it when I do this?â
The come-hither motion milks a response out of her. âYessss, fuuuu-u-u-uuuuck ⌠nghhh AHH ⌠Your fingers ⌠s-so big ⌠so th-thick ⌠guhhh!â
âYeah? You like my fingers? You like my fingers stretching your tight little cunt out?â
Rei beams, jamming her tongue between her quivering lips. âMmh ⌠fuck yes ⌠fuck me ⌠youâre just ⌠you just know how toâAHHHâhow to b-b-bring me thereâCLOSE!â
Thumb smudging against her clit, wrist starting to ache from the rapid-fire of your fingers, fist drenched in her slick, you dip lower and hover just above Reiâs folded form. She glances away and you swear you can feel the heat radiating from her flushed cheeks. But when she returns to you, she sheds the meekness and instead reaches out for your cheek to caress it. To hold it. Then to pull you in for another kiss.
Words cannot describe how decadent it is to be kissing Naoi Rei while sheâs whimpering into your lips from your fingering. But maybe words donât have to. This isnât something you would dare share to othersâwith others. This moment is something for you to keep to yourself.
She is someone for you to enjoyâall for yourself.
So when you feel her tongue losing the fight against yours and going slack in your mouth, your wrist gets a second wind as youâre now grinding the bottom of your palm into her clit while urging her to finish from your two digits along.
âFuck fuck fuckâIâm going to cum, IâM GOING TO CUM!â she bellows right next to your ear while youâre still kissing and licking her neck. âNGHHH DONâT STOOOOOP. C-C-CUMMING!â
You withdraw.
It takes a lot to pull your fingers out of her wet fucking walls because her pussy just wants to devour you whole. But when you manage it, and your fingers finally feel the cool hotel room air, you smirk down at her.Â
Rei pouts and blows into your face. âWhat was that for? I was so fuckingâHNGHH?â
You spank her pussy. âI asked if you wanted to continue. I didnât say you could cum.â
âEhh, youâre such a killjoy,â she complains, beating into your chest like that would hurt you one bit. âMmh ⌠please ⌠please I really need it again. I really ⌠ohhhh shiiiit ⌠I really need to cum again.â
As youâre still rubbing her, you move backwards and finally step out of your pants, which have been bunched up by your ankles since the beginning. Kicking them away, you slap her pussy one final time before resting the full length of your cock against her opening. âDo you want my fingers again, or do you want this?â
Reiâs grinning again. âI love the way you put your dick on me like that. Fuck, what a view ⌠it feels so warm ⌠so heavy ⌠so fucking ⌠thick âŚâ
You grip the base of your shaft and plap her drooling sex with the full heft of its weight. âThought you liked my fingers? Werenât you just begging for it?â
âNghh, but I love your dick more. Please âŚ?â
âPlease what? You should know by now thatâ.â
She tugs you by your tie and presses her forehead against yours. âTonight, I want you to fuck me like Iâm just another Nagoyan whore. No glamor, no paparazzi, no hosting. Just ⌠just you and me. And um, you can cum inside this timeâAHHHH!â
Fastest draw in the wild fucking west.
You push into Rei so fast that she gets no moment to adjust to your full length inside of her. She can only fan her fingers out by your torso as you pull back only to give her another full thrust.
âShit ⌠you really fill me up so good ⌠God nghh your stretch ⌠itâs unlike any other âŚâ
Hands on her waist, lifting her ass onto your thighs, you build up a rhythm into fucking Rei. Her tits springing forth with each motion. Her buttocks rippling with each impact. Her pussy squelching with each thrust and throb of your cock.
You wipe her sides before spanking her ass. âNever had me a Nagoyan whore before. What are they supposed to feel like? What can one of them do?â
âMmmh, I heard theyâre really good with their mouthsâNGHHâ.â
You thrust harder into her. Faster. âYeah? What else?â
ââthat they ⌠that theyâMMMHHâthat theyâ.â
âUse your words, Rei. Use your ⌠fucking ⌠nghh ⌠words.â
ââNGHH NGHHâthat they make for gooood mmmphhhâgood eye candyâ!â
You play with her clit just to see her face warp even further with pleasure, hearing her interrupt herself with screamsâmusic to your ears. âFuck ⌠keep going now ⌠tell me moreâsell me on one.â
ââa-and ⌠fuck ⌠fuck youâre so big .., youâre so fucking bigâAHHH AND THEY MAKE THE TIGHTEST COCKSLEEVES IN ALL OF JAPAN!â
Bingo.
Reiâs whole body convulses and even though all she screams are repeated babbles and curses into the air, you donât stop. You donât dare fucking stop giving it to her the way she begged for itâgiving it to her good. You fuck your little Nagoyan whore like she deserves it as a reward for her little stint of dirty talk, but not before pulling her in a bit closer for more kisses.
âShit shit shitâlike that, like that! Fasterâplease, faster!â
You press her deeper into the couch, kneeling into it as well as you both sink. Youâre hammering into her so hard the fucking furniture shakes and threatens to fall backwards, but you donât give a damn. All you can think of in this moment is the sight of Reiâs glazed-over and sweaty face pleading for release.
âPlease! PLEASE!â
âPlease whatâ?â
âPLEASE MAKE ME CUM ON YOUR DICK!â
Itâs criminal how fast your fingers fly to her clit when you want to get her to finish faster. But itâs more criminal how breathy and sultry her voice can get when sheâs needy and deliciously fucking desperate like this. Wasting no time, you finish her off with a series of breakneck thrusts, fucking her cunt like the cocksleeve she promised it to be.
âWhoâs my little Nagoyan fucktoy? Are you my slutty little fucktoy?â
âMmmmh yes yes yesâI am, I fucking amâ.â
âSay it. Say it inânghh, fuckâsay it in full.â
âI-Iâm your little ⌠tight ⌠slutty ⌠cheap ⌠horny ⌠fucking ⌠N-Nagoyan ⌠fucktâCUMMING!â
You donât edge her this time. You piston into Reiâs pussy until she comes undone because of you all over again.
And seeing her unravel makes you unravel as well.
âFuck, fucking take itâfucking take it all, Rei,â you groan aloud as the final few strokes inside her pool the tension towards the tip of your cock and set you off. What gets you over the edge is the roll of her eyes and the low grumble Rei lets out when sheâs hit that satisfied note on the orgasm score.
You cum.
You shoot thick rope after rope into her warm little pussy, painting her fucking walls with the thick of your seed that youâve been holding in for a week now. Unlike Reiâs orgasm that hits her hard and fast, you feel yours deep in your core, reverberating throughout your body as her cunt becomes a vice that continues milking you off your load.
Once youâve both come down from your ecstatic highs, you pull out. Carefully. Because Reiâs pussy is a bit sore and throbbing now. Because you want to see the fruit of your labors.
When the feathery folds of her release you, so does it release your globs of cum. It trickles out of her, crests over her untouched asshole, and pools into a crease of the couch.
âFuck,â is all you can immediately say as you try to regain your composure. You only think to take off your blazer and the rest of your suit now to join Rei in her nudity when the heat of lovemaking finally gets to you. âRei, you look so fucking sexy like this.â
She raises a brow and does the unthinkable. Well, unthinkable to most people. But perhaps not to Rei. Fingers lowering to her used pussy, she scoops up some of your cum and brings it to her lips, tasting your release.
âMmm, now I kinda regret not letting you finish off inside my throat. You taste delicious. Strong, a bit bitter, very salty. Your first load is always so fucking thick too.â
You chuckle, undoing the tie and tossing it behind you. Your ears perk at hearing âfirst loadâ, which implies a second, a third, or even a tenth one if you were fortunate. Youâre about to fully pull away from her when she has this moment of weakness. When Rei reaches out to you but stops herself.
You could have sworn she looked like she needed you. Needed needed you.
Taking one last look at her form laid out like this on the couch, you canât help but feel like Reiâs some sort of prophet. No way in hell could anyone have foreseen her spineless after a good fuck with cum dripping out of her pussy like this from back at the elevator ride alone. Guess thatâs one of her charms.
You lean forward and help her up, and sheâs clinging to you while standing on her own two feet. You donât question it. Donât point it out. You let Rei hold you close, pressing her face into your chest as her arms squeeze you tightly.
âYou ⌠alright?â you ask, starting to get a bit worried over how silent she is.
She nods, hair brushing your collarbone, tickling you. âI ⌠I am. I think I am ⌠just ⌠just need a moment. You always do this to me.â
âDo what exactly?â
âConfuse me.â
You want to pull away so you can talk to her about this, but Rei really doesnât want to let go. She allows you some room to breathe by detaching herself, but sheâs holding your wrists now. Her fingers are unable to steady themselves on you. âDonât ⌠donât ask. Stop asking questions. Just âŚâ
âRei, Iâ.â
She presses a finger to your lips and sighs, shaking her head. âLetâs not get things too ⌠complicated. Just ⌠donât just swap between rough and passionate like that. It gets confusing.â
âWhat do you want right now then? Rough or passionate?â you wonder, unsure of what the difference between either even is at this point.
âP-Passionate. Please?â
She gasps as you sweep her off her feet. Carrying her like a princess, as she drapes her arms around you, you lift her all the way to the modern dining table in this spot between the kitchen and living room. Set her down on her bare bottom. Place your hands on either side of her against the cold surface. And just press into her.
âSorry. If I got carried away,â you confess. You feel the need to say that because a part of you now realizes how brutal you might have been. How you might have been taking out your frustrations and jealousy out on Rei. âWe need like a safeword or something when it gets too much.â
âNo, youâre never too much,â she tells you otherwise, patting your cheek before wiping away the sweat along your nose with her thumb. âI just ⌠god, just stop asking questions.â
âYes maâam.â
Passionate. She wants passionate.
You start with a kiss to her cheek. Then her lips. Then her nose. Rei giggles, âI said passionate, not sappy. But ⌠Iâll allow this.â
You kiss down to her neck again, but instead of peppering across it, you focus on this one spot. This single sensitive spot of hers that could always make you draw a moan or a reaction from her.Â
âOh âŚ? Ohh ... mmmh ⌠I like that ⌠I r-really ⌠like that âŚâ
Rei reaches for your cock and gasps through sealed lips when she feels how hard you still are even after all of that. With a twisting motion, she tests to see if itâs true, and when the blood circulates through your shaft again in full force, throbbing in her heavenly grasp, she chuckles into your ear as she nips at your lobe.Â
âDo you really like me that much?â she mutters. And you cannot believe she even has to ask that question.
âNah, just when youâre a good little Nagoyan slut.â
She whines and fakes pushing you away, but thereâs this look in her eyes that tells you sheâs thankful you didnât answer that question seriously. Rei hops off the table so she can stroke you better, pumping you within the folds of her fingers, palming the tip whenever she senses pre-cum ready to be smeared around it.
âYou were asking me so many questions earlier. Maybe I should ask you some too,â she coos, shucking her hand absentmindedly yet with strong purpose as she traces outlines into your chest with another. âTell me ⌠whatâs something we havenât done yet that you want to try?â
âSeriously?â
âIâm very serious,â sheâs quick to reply, and as if to prove her point, she tightens her grip on your dick, meriting a moan from you. âThereâs only so much we can do at hotels and dressing rooms. I just thought youâd find it boringâ.â
âI want to spank you.â
Rei raises her brow, but thereâs already the spark of interest alighting in the wicks of her eyes. âSpank me? Do you know big your hands are? Youâre going to bruise me.â
âWell, do you want to try it?â
There are boundaries Rei will never cross, and youâve seen the look on her face whenever someone urges her to cross them. At fan signs when these delulu dumbasses try to make her do something weird. At concerts when the prompters are telling her to give out aegyos again and again even when sheâs tired. At board meetings and conferences when she disagrees with the creative direction for the group.
You fully expect her to make that same face now. But instead, she says, âDonât ⌠just donât leave a mark that isnât red.â
You chuckle and shake your head. âOh you naughty little thing.â
Palm meeting her ass, you grope her. Massage her. Knead the doughy and pillowy flesh of her bottom. Youâre testing. Tempering yourself for now. Waiting for Reiâs reactions. When you feel her lose track of her stroking and see her eyes flutter about, you grip and tug her cheek before pulling back to give it a nice firm slap.
The recoil makes even her thighs jiggle. You canât help but spank her again. And again. And again.Â
âMmh! Did you really have to go for it just like that?â
Spank. Spank. Spank.
âNghh! The other side ⌠get ⌠get the other side too âŚâ
Spank. Spank. Spank.
âF-Fuck ⌠that ⌠thatânghh ⌠that âŚâ
Itâs adorable how thereâs a physical manifestation to the way Rei loses herself in the moment. You donât make fun of her for it. Instead, you move her hand away from your cock, pick up the other sheâs been using to sneakily rub herself with, and turn her around, pressing her palms onto the table.
âWhat âŚ?â
You spank her. Harder. The previous ones were teasing and amicable. This one is sharp and resolute. âBend over for me.â
To your surprise, she doesnât fight it either. Rei slides her arms further forward to lift her bubble butt up for you. âLike this?â
âPerfect,â you praise, both hands caressing her butt cheeks. You take your time with them. No rush. Admiring how her voluptuous bottom feels in your hands. Adoring how digging your thumbs along the inner fold reveals and conceals her tight little holes. Acclaiming how each and every moan of hers seduces you into doing more than just fondling her ass.
âCount them,â you command, palming her sweaty cheek before delivering a blow.
âWhatâNGHH! One ⌠waitâ.â
You spank her again. This time beneath the moundâcloser to her thigh.
âGuhh! T-Two ⌠hold on, I-Iâ.â
You spank her again. This time on the opposite cheek. Harder.
âTh-Three ⌠three âŚâ
You spank. She counts. Babbles out some nonsense. Drags fingers against the table. But this entire time, with each sting against her rump, with each flare of recoiled pain against your palm, with each whimper and moan and cry, Rei does not move from her position.
She stays in place, reddened ass kept held up in the air for you, taking it all.
âSuch a good girl,â you whisper as you position yourself behind her now. The praise makes her shudder, and if that wasnât enough, your suddenly soft touch against her spine sends her quivering. âLook whoâs fucking wet after all that. Hm?â
You donât have to see her to know how Reiâs face is probably as red as her ass. âSh-Shut up âŚâ
You motion like youâre about to spank her and she whimpers. âP-Please! No ⌠no y-yeah ⌠I was ⌠It was hot. I got ⌠I got super turned on when you were spanking me. And ⌠a-and ⌠never mind.â
âNever mind?â you mock, cupping one of her cheeks again. âUse your words, and finish your damn sentences.â
âUgh ⌠I liked it when you made me count. There, are you happy?â
âOh, I very much am now,â you tease, gripping her waist. Rei is about to retort with the way her back tenses up, but when she feels your hard cock hotdogging her, she instead mewls and begins to breathe heavily. âNice and wet from all those spankings. Nice and wet for another round with me.â
The spanking must have done a number on her. Rewired her brain or something. Because thereâs no banter. Thereâs no snarky retort. Thereâs no hesitation.
Rei just bends over, shoulders and chin slack against the surface of the dining room table, fingers digging into her soft flesh from behind, spreading her butt for you.
âFuck me ⌠again please ⌠one more ⌠I need it ⌠I really need it now âŚâ
You smack your cock against her back, sliding it between her cheeks. You can never get enough of her ass. Fuck, you can never get enough of Rei. Pulling her hips back and lining up your tip against her warm and dripping entrance, you push in slowly this time as you let Rei feel the entire heft of your insertion.
Her feet arch and lift her higher, trying to escape the sensation of your cock slipping fully into her, but she ends up coming back down to meet your hips as she shudders. âNghhhhh ⌠shit âŚâ
You work her slow and steady. None of that pounding from earlier. Rei feels the way the tip of your cock spears into her and presses against all the right places inside of her. You glean this from how sheâs heaving and smothering onto the table.
One hand on her lower back, your other hand connects with her tender as cheeks. God, you just fucking love to see them clap against each otherâagainst you. âYou enjoyed counting for me? Have a bit of a new kink now, do you?â
âO-Oh nghhh mmmphh ⌠shut up! I shouldnât have told you that.â
You spank her again, groping her ass before letting go. âI know why that turns you on. You like being told what to doâyou just canât admit it.â
âDo I? Hnnh, hnhhgghh! Shit shit, thatâs not fairâthatâs not AHHH!â
She canât even finish her thought from the pounding youâre giving her. Not fasterâharder. Deep into Rei. Making sure her ass ripples upon collision. Making sure the table screeches against the polished floor. Making sure Rei gets stuffed to the brim with each thrust.
âAdmit it, Rei. You love being ordered around. You just like to think youâre in control, but you crumble the moment anyone gets even just a little bit firm with you, yeah?â you whisper close to her, one hand now pinning one of hers against her back while the other is busy keeping you both steady. âSay it. Fucking say it, slut. Tell me thatâ.â
âJ-Justâfuck ⌠fuck ⌠fuck, NGHHH just for you!â
That catches you off-guard.
You could have sworn you were at least ten minutes away from getting close, but hearing how vulnerable and unabashed her moans are, how Reiâs trying so hard to lift her face up from the table to look at you through the sweaty hair clinging to her face, a part of you is just taken by the moment and you lose all control.
âShit, Iâm going to cum. Iâm going to fucking cum, Rei,â you declare, giving her ass repeated spanks to further sate your desire to overwhelm her, to just remind her that she may be your employer, but during moments like this? Sheâs yours.
Sheâs yours.
âI-I-Iâm close too,â she huffs, body getting dragged back and forth against the dining table. Sheâs lucky there arenât any complementary snacks on itâtheyâd be scattered all over the place now. Fortunately for you, the only mess you need laid out before you now is just Rei. âDonât stop! Fuck, pound me harder. Harder! HARDER!â
Her begs and pleads egg you closer and closer, but you want to prolong it for just a moment. Just until you hear it. Just until she says it. You lift her up by under her arms until sheâs drawn taut like a strung bow. âSay it, Rei. Tell me whose you are? Tell me whose fucking slut you are!â
âJ-J-Just yoursssss nghhhh hnghhhh JUST YOURS! CUMMING!â
The both of you come in unison while you hold her close, arms moving towards her stomach and waist to wrap her tightlyâso she canât let go. As the tension from your core rolls over towards your balls before spiking through your shaft and tip, you feel Rei clench the last few times around your balls-deep dick, finishing herself off while also finishing you off deep inside of her.
Needless to say you two are fucking spent, collapsing onto one another against the table. Reiâs already groaning about how heavy you are, but you keep yourself against her back, dick still at an odd angle in her pussy.
Once you finally find the energy within you to pull away, your cock makes her pussy squelch before you hear the lascivious squirting sound of your second load of the night coming out of her well-used cunt.
You arenât being an asshole in the slightest. But the moment you help Rei up, the first thing she does is slap your face.
You act like it doesnât sting. Physically, at least. But seeing her watering eyes is what really gets you to form thick lumps in your throat.
âHey,â you start, your voice gentler than itâs ever been. You move forward to try and reach for her, but sheâs faster and darts out of the way. Too bad for her, you werenât trained for nothing. You manage to catch her by her waist and hold her down. âYouâve been acting weird tonight. Really weird. Do you ⌠want to talk about it?â
Sniffling, she blinks fast and shakes her head. âNo. N-No, I donât. I-I-I justâ.â
âRei.â
She knows when you call her name like thatâjust her name, and nothing elseâthat youâre being serious. That you mean business. Calming herself down a little and drying her eyes, she nods and returns to you. âYeah, yeah sorry ⌠I ⌠Moment ruined haha. I just ⌠I just expected you to get up and leave.â
âSo you wanted me to leave you like that? All fucked out on the table?â you clarify, unsure of where this is headed. âI mean, if thatâs your thing, then sureâ.â
âNo, assholeâthatâs the problem. I ⌠I already expect youâexpect thisâto be what it is. Just casual. But lately, when we ⌠when weâre together like this, I ⌠I feel âŚâ
âFeel something different?â
Rei glances at you, frozen in place. If the circumstances were different, you might have reached out to brush the hair from her face, held her hand, maybe even picked her up playfully in your arms.
But this is not that kind of story. Youâre just her bodyguard. The bodyguard whom sheâs slowly getting a little too attached to.
âLook, Rei, this doesnât have to get complicated if you donât want it to. If it helps, just think of it this way: Iâll only be here when you want me, if you want me,â you propose, leaning against the table next to her. You figure not having to look eye-to-eye might make it easier for the idol. âYou want a quick fuck? The guy youâre trying to hit on didnât take you home? Youâre lonely and all by yourself in the dorms? Call me. And Iâll be there. Until then, I wonât be in your way. Saves us all the thinking and feeling, yeah?â
âWhat if I want that thinking and feeling though?â
She glides towards you. Until your fingers touch atop the glass of the table. But Rei pushes further until your hips connect and sheâs got a hand on your thigh now. Until it becomes impossible to ignore a different kind of heat spreading through you. âYou ⌠youâre different. And I like different. Because youâre never anything I might want, but also everything I tend to need. And lately, I ⌠I donât know. Iâve just been feeling like I want to be yours.â
âTch, what have you done with the real Naoi Rei. She wouldnât be saying all this sappy shitâsheâd be demanding me to fuck her on the balcony.â
Rei lets out a hearty giggle but not without beating you several times with the small of her fist. âYou really are such an asshole ⌠and maybe Iâm ⌠Iâm the weird one for liking that. All of it. All of ⌠you.â
You shrug and cock your neck to the side, giving yourself some room to breathe. âYou sure this is what you want? Itâll probably be easier with someone else. Heard you kept getting paired with that Niki boy from ENHYPEN. You two would make a great pair.â
âEhh, heâs way too easy on the eyes. He wasnât any fun in bed either.â
âWait, did you actually sleep with him?â
Rei smirks and bites her lip. âWhat? Jealous?â
You part from the table so youâre facing her now, getting her between your legs as you loom over her. âDid you actually? Rei, Iâm being serious. You know the protocol: I need to know these things. Especially before shit goes south, andâ.â
âAre you saying that now as a bodyguard, as a fuckbuddy, or as someone else?â
Youâre normally the one gagging Rei, but this time, she gags you. âI ⌠That hardly makes a difference.â
âIt does,â she argues, pursing her lips. âTo me.â
Youâve spent the last three years protecting the woman in front of you from any harm that may come her way. Whether thatâs in the form of delusional fans, desperate paparazzi, or damaging rumors. But the one thing all that time has never taught you was how to protect Rei from you.
Because even you canât control yourself when youâre around her.
Itâs not fair. How she gets away with everything. Sometimes thanks to you. Sometimes because of her own charm and wit. How she can be a flirt with the other idols. How she can act all innocent one day and be extremely suggestive the other. How she can just keep you on the edge every time, leaving you guessing about what sheâs really thinkingâwhat she really means. This push and pull with her has been around your little dynamic since kingdom come, and yet, when confronted with the need for an answer to it all, youâre unsure. Youâre just so fucking unsure of what to say right now. To her.
So she answers for you.
âForget it. This isnât going to work out anyway. Theyâll notice. They always do. Youâll start treating me nicer. Being more conscious and cautious around me. And just ⌠being weird in public. If we keep up what we have and leave it at that, we can at least hide everything until weâre back hereâbehind closed doors, in our own little world, where no one else can see us.â
She feigns a smile and glances up at you as you hover over her. âMaybe that will have to be enough for meâ.â
Your shaky lips pressing into hers stops her from ever finishing that little soliloquy. Reiâs breath grows ragged in the way that you know it to when sheâs about to cry, but you hold the side of her face like youâve always wanted to ever since seeing her for the first time at that boardroom meeting, and press your thumb against the slope of her nose.
When she pulls away, her face is dotted in confusion. But you clear your throat and muster up what little you have left in you to utter what youâre about to say next. âLetâs not put a label on it. This? I love it. Youâre not the only one who needs this. Who needs me. Who ⌠needs you. But letâs meet in the middle and just not call it anything. That way, we can just let it become what we both need it to be.â
Reiâs chuckling at your attempt at being sentimental, and immediately you just have this urge to spank her again. âI can work with that. Just promise me one thing.â
âIf itâs to pull out, I canât guarantee it all the time. Not anymore. Not after this.â
She bites her lips and jabs your chest. âAsshole. Just make sure itâs fun for you too. As much as I like the idea of using your dick like a personal dildo, I ⌠I um âŚâ
You donât need her to finish the sentence. Itâs abundantly clear youâre both terrible with words, so you let your bodies do all the talking instead.
Her fingers lacing through through your hair, yours feeling up her sides. Her mouth finding purchase against your neck with teeth, yours worshipping her nipples and breasts. Her breath coasting over your hardening cock and still-heavy balls, yours peppering the small of her back and the rump of her ass.Â
Itâs different now. It really is. You can feel it. She can too. And you both love it.
The intensity. The devotion.
The fervency.
Youâve been all over the hotel room by now, but you both find yourselves back on the couch. When Rei breaks the kiss and smudges the back of her hand against her lips, you think she might climb onto your lap and indulge in you like that. But much to your surpriseâand delightâshe falls to her knees once again.
Ruffling her already messy bob, she groans and leans her face close to your semi-flaccid cock. Close enough so you can feel her warmth against your skin. âThink you can still go for another round? Letâs ⌠letâs see how it feels like this.â
She doesnât even go into any specifics, but you know what she means. âYeah. Yeah, give me a minuteâoh god, fuck, Rei.â
Rei only gives you approximately seventeen seconds before sheâs kissing and dragging her lips up and down your shaft. She has a penchant for working underneath your head. Softer than a tickle. Firmer than a grasp. Rei grabs your cock and balls and glances down at it. âItâs all sticky and moist now. Has a funky feeling to it.â
âYeah, and whose fault might that be exactly?â
She smirks and flicks your tip once with her tongue. âLet me clean up my mess then, daddy.â
Oh she has gone and done it now.
She goes cross-eyed looking at your tip, polishing it with one thumb. âHm? Did you like that, daddy?â
You inhale deep through clenched teeth as she strokes you at a relaxed pace. âFuck ⌠Fuck yeah, yeah I do. Be a good little slut and clean up daddyâs cock.â
Rei bites her tongue and nods before smacking her lips against your head, working your tip with a mix of moans as she dutifully continues jerking you off at the same time. You can feel how she now sucks you off less like sheâs trying to satiate her cravings for cock and cum and more like sheâs trying to provide you the purest form of pleasure she can offer.
She paces herself, trading the grandstanding of forced deepthroats to make herself gag on your thick shaft in favor of a more rapid rhythm that gets you curling your fingers into the soft of the couch.
She fondles your balls in between motions, tugging on them downwards, rolling them between her lithe fingers. One of her hands glides up and down your thigh, digging her thumb into the crease of your muscle. And fuck, does it feel so heavenly coupled with the sight of your length disappearing into her pretty little face.
When she comes up for air, drool trickling down her chin, she strokes you fast, saliva coating your entire cock. âMmmh ⌠how did that feel? Does it feel good when I blow you like that, daddy? I love sucking your dick ⌠it feels so good inside my mouth, pushing down against my tongue ⌠hitting the back of my throat âŚâ
âShit ⌠you can have this cock any day everyday, Rei ⌠god, just donât stop ⌠keep going âŚâ
Giggling, she palms over your head just to make you whimper a little. âI donât want you to cum down my throat though. But before I really finish you off ⌠how about I give daddy a bit more motivation to fuck me again.â
You lift a finger like you might ask her what that implies, but sheâs way ahead of you.
You never got why Rei would often beg for you to stop when you continue eating her out or keep fucking her through her orgasm. But you understand that now when she threatens to break her neck with how fast sheâs bobbing up and down the full length of your dick with no intentions of slowing down.
Gripping your balls firmer, she looks up at you, through her tears, grunting every time your head pushes into her throat by even just an inch, lapping at what little of your underside she could with her pinned tongue.Â
Meanwhile, youâre curling upwards, meeting her warm and wet mouth as much as you can before you feel the pit of your stomach readying to burst. âShit ⌠shit, Rei thatâs so fucking hot. Fucking swallow my cock down that slutty throat of yoursâgod, make daddy feel good. Make daddy feel so fucking good, baby.â
She catches your term of endearment and smirks. With one final fast pump of your dick, she holds you, sheathing you deep inside of her tight little idol mouth, before retracting backwards inch by glorious inch so she can reveal the new messy coating and sheen of your cock thanks to her ministrations.
Coughing a little bit, she snorts to the side before sitting on the balls of her feet, your cock still in her hand. âNghhh ⌠all worked up now, arenât you, daddy? One last round?â
âOne last round,â you confirm, bounding from the couch. When Rei stands up to join you, you take this opportunity to sweep her off her feet again, and she takes this chance to wrap her legs around your body once more, and you both take this moment to indulge in each otherâs lipsânever boring of how the other tastesâand tumble towards the bedroom like this.
Sandalwood and bergamot hit your nostrils, but the only scent your mind can focus on is the mixture of heady sweat, drying cum, and splattering saliva shared between your bodies as you lay her down on the mattress and pillows.
You climb on top of her but sheâs shaking her head. âDaddy ⌠as much as I want you to pound me into the sheets, I ⌠I want to ride you,â she confesses, biting her lip like an innocent church girlâbut you know sheâs anything but that. âPlease? Fuck, I want to ride you so hard one last time and feel you finish inside me while weâre ⌠while weâre together like that âŚâ
You kiss her neck and grind your dick against her still-wet pussy a bit more, not offering her reply, just selfishly searing this moment of brief intimacy into the back of your mind before you get ridden.
âDaddy ⌠daddy please, stop teasing meeee ⌠mmmh! Ahhh! Fuck ⌠my pussyâs already aching for your dick again ⌠Please ⌠please ⌠one more ⌠one last ⌠let me ride you âŚâ
You push down the voice in your head that wants to make her beg. Instead, you turn the volume up on the voice that wants to indulge her desire. âAre you going to ride me until I canât feel my thighs from how fast youâll be bouncing on top of me?â
Biting her lip, she nods in rapid succession, caressing up and down your shoulders as you continue grinding against her. âIâll ride you so good itâs all youâre ever going to be thinking about when we sit next to each other on the plane ride home, daddy.â
Thatâs just what you wanted to hear.
Rei gasps and giggles over how fast you swap places with her, trading the luxury of pinning down her soft curves in favor of feeling their weight on you. Sheâs just as quick to adjust too, already resting her supple cheeks against your thighs.
Swirling her hand around your cock, she measures you against her soft-toned torso. âOh wow, I took all of this inside me? Fuck ⌠thatâs actually really hot. I didnât think you were this big.â
âIt would be even hotter visually seeing you get stretched out, you know,â you tease back.
Nodding, Rei lifts her hip up momentarily to push your head in through the tight ring of her entrance, and when it slips inside of her, the rest just falls into place.
âMmm, fuck ⌠daddy âŚâ she grumbles, not bouncing, just grinding her mound against your own while feeling your full length inside of her. She reaches out for your chest, drawing lazy figures and shapes across it. âWe really need to find the time to just fuck all weekend. I canât ⌠nghh ⌠I canât just keep doing quickies like these anymore.â
âWeâre beyond quickies at this point,â you tell her, fighting back a sharp moan yourself. âAnd I wonât say no to that. I wonder what the company might think when we request for a hotel room in the middle of an empty schedule.â
âWeâll use my card,â she groans, steadily working her pace faster, gliding with her hips. You want nothing more than to feel her bouncing on your cock right now, but you temper yourself. âMmmh, I might use it to buy a bunch of other things for you too, daddy.â
Thereâs a pause. Rei licks her lips with a knowing smirk when she feels you throb inside her from imagining how sheâd look in the skimpiest of lingeries. âI think daddy likes that idea too.â
You grip her waist with a touch so needy that itâs all Rei needs to know.
Each word is prefaced by a bounce. Each pause is predicated by a low, deep moan.
You suck in deep as you lift up from the bed and envelop yourself in her chest. One hand kneading her right tit, the other taking in the scent of her skin as she rides you. Rei sinks into a gentle bliss when you palm over her nipple, and you find it both endearing and so fucking sexy how she grips your shoulder every time you roll over it.
You start bucking up into her to try and quicken her pace, but Rei pushes you back down onto the mattress and pins you by your lower stomach. âLet ⌠nnghhh ahhh! Let me do the work. Let me ride you, daddy.â
Spanking her ass, you tap it twice before retreating your hands behind your head. âThen ride me like thereâs no tomorrow, baby.â
Licking her puffy lips clean, Rei wastes no time.
She first bounces with her knees, sinking and lifting herself to a practiced rhythm as she acquiesces to the feeling of your dick inside of her in this new position. But when she craves more than this, she lets her instincts kick in and gets more daring.
Rei leans backwards and rides with her hips. Her hands swap between your shins and her own ass as she struggles to balance herself atop you. When she stumbles forward, you catch her with one hand to her chest.
You both make eye contact and thereâs this drag of a gasp from her when she feels your grasp.
Giggling, she understands the assignment. Growing less self-conscious, Rei relies on you to keep her steady as she allows herself to alternate between riding you and grinding into you. Whenever she tires from working your thick shaft inside her, she cools off a bit with several rounds of humping to get her off, before she returns to the task at hand.
But your hands never sit still. You caress down the parting of her body, front and center, between her cleavage, down to her stomach. If you press firmly enough you can feel the faint motions of your dick being taken in and out of her. The faint outline of a bulge forming just beneath your palm.
âHnghhhh ⌠daddyyyy ⌠so fullâso fucking full. I love it, I love it, I love itâAHHH MMMHH!â
You lift your hand beneath her breast, scoop it up, swat it a few times. Move to the other side and do the same. Settling on her right tit, you slap them lightly without pause, enjoying how her breasts jiggle for you with each mount of her ride, delighting in how she full-body shudders with each gloss of your thumb against her nipple.
âFuck fuck FUUUUCK, dadddyyyy, youâre t-t-teasing me ⌠nghhhh you know how sensitive I-AMMMM AHHHH DADDY!â
Youâre fondling both breasts now, rubbing her nipples between both of your thumbs and index fingers, polishing them to perfection. You can feel the shakiness of her breathâlike her lungs might give out. âRide me, Rei. Keep fucking riding daddyâs cock. Donât stop ⌠fuck ⌠donât fucking stop. Keep bouncing on my dick like thatâlike a good little slut. Like daddyâs good little fucking slut.â
âY-Yes daddy! Yes ⌠yes ⌠YES! More ⌠MORE PLEASE!â
âDo you like it when I play with your full fucking tits like this? While youâre riding daddy?â
âYes ⌠yes! Not aâMMMH MMMPHâday goes by! When ⌠when I donât imagine daddy playing with them ⌠teasing them ⌠u-using themâfuck!â
âWhoâs my Nagoyan fucktoy? Whoâs my good little tight slutty fucking Nagoyan fucktoy?â you growl, approaching your own orgasm, flicking her nipples in fervent motions to help her chase her own.
âI AM! I FUCKING AM DADDY! C-C-CUMMINGGGG NGHHHâ.â
Thereâs just something about Rei getting off from her own debasement that turns you so fucking on. But in this moment, all you can think about is bucking what little with your hips you can up and into her to chase your own orgasm. When she clenches down hard once more, crumbling almost instantaneously onto you, you hold her by the waist and fuck the last few tremors of her climax into her as you shoot your final load of the night into Rei.
Breathing. Just heavy breathing.
Rei swipes a hand across her forehead, leans onto your chest, and bites her lip, gesturing at you with her eyebrows. âWas I any good? I donât really get to ride you that much, so âŚâ
âNever doubted you one bit. Knew you had it in you,â you assure her, resting a hand on her ass. You contemplate spanking her, but the girl deserves a break. âFuck, we need to do something about those nipples of yours, baby. You canât just keep cumming whenever someone plays with them.â
She pouts and her lips do this thing where it gets all kissable. Itâs adorable. âYouâre the only one who plays with them. Youâre too obsessed, daddy! Now theyâre all sore.â
You help her back up into a sit, your cock still inside her pussy as you kiss around the soft pad of her areolas. âThere, feeling better?â
Blushing, Rei nods. âYes, daddy.â
âYou love calling me that a little too much. Itâs cute.â
âShut up.â
âI wonât,â you whisper as you kiss her cheek. Even Reiâs surprised by this. This isnât part of the script. Isnât part of the usual routine. Then again, nothing about tonight has been anything remotely like what it used to be between you two. But neither of you resolve to acknowledge it.
Rei taps your chest twice, and you know what that means. Carefully, she dismounts you, rubbing her pussy out a few times to soothe herself as your last load trickles out of her. Once sheâs recovered, she makes her way to the bathroom, giving you an unknowing view of her swaying ass.
As you take in the final glance of her naked form before she disappears behind the bathroom door, you canât help but hope that she might turn around. Just a glance. Just a look. But it never comes, and soon, the idolâs already running the water, readying for her post-sex shower.
Alone. Like always.
You do some cleaning up of your own. Fixing the sheets, wiping yourself, rehydrating with some shoddy sparkling water. Anything to get your mind off of things.
By the time sheâs done, sheâs dressed in her personal pink robe, and youâre already fitted in your boxers. She doesnât wait for you to say anything. Rei just gets into bed and claims the side closer to the wall, leaving you to roll onto your back on the side closer to the bedside table.
And neither of you say a word. Just like before.
Just like always
As Rei drifts off to sleep behind you, a final thought permeates your exhausted mind. In the grand scheme of things, you really are just another fuck to her. And maybe, just maybe, itâs better this way. For her sake or for yours, youâre not quite sure. But if this is what it takes to maintain what you two have, then youâll gladly bite that bullet.Â
Because having her like this is better than having none of her at all.
Something shifts on the bed. Before it registers, an arm comes around you, but doesnât pull you in. Instead, the body attached to said arm pulls itself in. Towards you. Against your side. Fitting her face against the length of your arm.Â
âRei âŚâ
âDonât ⌠donât say anything. Donât make this weird,â she pleads, her hand atop your chest caressing you in fervent frolicking strokes. âJust let it happen.â
You dig your hand and arm underneath her, shifting her head closer to your chest, and hold the length of her small back against you like that. âOk.â
Everyone wants a piece of her. Everyone wants a piece of Naoi Rei.
But, perhaps, youâre the only one who has the privilege of having her completely like this.
Youâre the only one with the highest honor of being hers.
~Le Sserafim's Eunchae (x Male Reader), Smut, 5.2k words, Cafe Cuties Part 6 (previous part)
Read it on Fanprose
âWill it count towards my hours?â you ask, knowing itâll egg her on.
âYouâre the supervisor now! It comes with extra responsibilities,â she rolls her eyes. Sheâs still naked in your bed, wrapped around your arms.
âJust not sure about doing⌠free labour. Especially since you, Ms. Manager, are a walking HR violation I have to deal with every day. Seems this job is getting more and more sweatshoppy.â
Chaewon pinches your arm. âIâm an HR violation? You came on my face in the supply closet.â
âOnly because you asked for a massage.â
âWell youââ she drones on.
Yeah, safe to say you and Chaewon are back to normal.
2 minutes ago she was asleep soundly in your bed. But when her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at you with a smile, to then talk about work! You knew you had to tease her. Anyway, despite your bickering, you make a mental note that, on Chaewonâs orders, you and Yunjin are to hang posters around the city sometime this week.
âIâm using your shower, get a towel ready for me,â Chaewon demands.
---
Things are mostly back to normal now that you and Chaewon are on good terms. And by good terms, you mean Chaewon calling you in the wee hours of the night asking: âWhy isnât the time sheet updated?â, or âYou ordered way too much milk todayâ. Yeah, supervisor duties. Still, though, itâs nice that you can talk back to her when she does call.
And of course, that talking back isnât really talking back, just banter.
So itâs weird that you still feel like something is off. Hmm, maybe itâs your spring allergies.
But when youâre walking home from work one night (alone, Eunchae was in a rush and left on her own), throat clear of mucus, you realize it canât be spring allergies. No, actually, itâs Eunchae.
Itâs hard to pinpoint what about Eunchae. In fact, you were just goofing off together on your shift. She still smiles mischievously whenever sheâs purposefully being annoyingâ which is pretty much all the time. And of course you donât actually find it annoying, you just pretend you do because it makes Eunchae laugh.
Itâs in your head, then. Yeah, sheâll text you tonight anyway, You guys are good.
But you fall asleep with your phone in your hand, still silent.
---
âWanna come? Weâre going Sunday,â you say, shining a glass cup in your hand for the sixth time.
âI think that glass is streak-free,â Eunchae nods. âAnd you want me to come hang posters?â
âYeah, itâll be fun!â
âRight,â she says sarcastically, âfun.â
âOh, come on,â you whine, leaning back on the counter. âYou have to come!â You say with oh so much more vigour than you usually would.
âYou sound like me,â she laughs. âCan we like, do something else?â
âSomething else? Iâm pretty busy this weekâ what did you have in mind?â
She leans back on the counter, foot stretching out towards you. It lands on your thigh, dangerously close to your nether region.
âI think we could think of something.â She smiles.
Youâre taken aback that thereâs a foot (shoe and everything!) on your thigh, but also because sheâs being so blatantly flirty.
But should you be? You stand there stunned, but yeah, you shouldâve known this. Eunchae has been asking you to hang out, even insinuating things sheâd like to do with you ever since, oh, your little escapade in the washroom.
And then there was last week, where you spent pretty well all your time making posters, save for a moment - a moment where you walked her home and declared: âyouâre my best friend, Eunchaeâ. You havenât really been acting like it, though.
She sees your hesitation, and says âright, next time then,â and itâs not bitter. Thatâs what kills you the most, really. That sheâs not even bitter about it. She doesnât hold it against you because she knows youâre busy, or at least, sheâs trying not to seem like she is. What was that she told you at that staff party all those weeks ago? That she used to be⌠pushy? And she didnât want to be anymore?
She turns towards the kitchen.
âWait!â You scream, which is weird, because sheâs still only 3 feet away from you.
She turns back, something in her eyes lighting up.
âSaturday! Iâm free Saturday.â
The smile on her face makes your heart skip a beat. âOkay, Saturday then.â
âJust you and me.â
---
You look around your apartment, figuring out what the hell to wear.
The plan to âhang outâ has immediate effects - the texts Eunchae usually showers you with late at night return in full force, and you think: maybe this is easy. Eunchae isnât so much high maintenance, just, needs some love.
And you today, Saturday, you plan on giving her that love.
Coming in sweats seems okay, right? Or is that much too casual? No, you donât think so. Sheâs been droppingâ no launching hints at you. Hints that she wants to⌠fuck again. Itâs weird, thinking about it. Yeah, you always do somehow end up making love to almost every girl in your life. Except Yunjin. But planning to do that? Going over to Eunchaeâs for the express purpose of sex? It feels strangely embarrassing.
And plus, you just told her you were her best friend. Is this the sort of stuff best friends do? You sure as hell didnât do it with your high school best friend. Wouldâve been an awkward endeavor with one too many sticks involved.
The more you think about it, the less normal it seems. But whatâs there to do? Itâs Eunchae. Sheâs bright, funny, a beacon of laughter whenever you need it, so cute she could make a mime chuckle. But sheâs also unbelievably hot at times. Yeah, maybe those times are when her body is pressed against yours, which again, is the root of the problem.
Youâre definitely weak willed, because just the thought of her body pressed against you is enough to steel your resolve. Gray sweats it is.
âThatâs what youâre wearing?â She asks, judgmental smile lining her face.
âYeah, whatâs wrong with it?â
âI thought we were hanging out?â She asks.
âYeah, me too. Iâm so ready to hang out.â You say, overenunciating the last words to indicate innuendo.
She cracks the door open a little more, revealing a nice pair of jeans and a white tube top.
Fuck. âOh-â
âItâs okay, I think you look cute. Where did you want to go?â She slides out of her apartment, and her outfit really is nice. Yours pales in comparison, which seems pretty common for you these days.
âMaybe a cafe?â you ask. Itâd at least explain your super casual clothing choice if you planned to go to a cafe.
âA cafe? Really? We work at a cafe.â
âOh, right.â Well this is going horribly. Youâre so damn embarrassed that you thought this was a hookup, and itâs clearly messing with you. You can barely talk to her straight. And to add onto that, the realization that this is basically a date hits you, and itâs almost as bad as the hookup confusion.
But itâs Eunchaeâ sheâs sweet and comfortable and reminds you of coffee and she takes your hand in hers. It helps that it doesnât really mean anything. Thereâs no pretense in it. When she says âWanna go shopping then?â the grasp of your hand really just means âletâs goâ.
It comforts you, reminds you that yeah, this is Eunchae. You can be yourself.
âSure,â you say.
She tugs you a bit, leading you out of the building. She lets go of your hand by the time youâre walking to the mall, because again, thereâs no pretense in it, but once you reach your destination, she grabs you again, dragging you off to the different stores.
âYou really do think my outfit is embarrassing!â
âI never said that,â she says, lining up a pair of jeans over your legs, before switching them out with another pair. âSweats can be a great staple to any wardrobe!â
âAnd do you think I wore them well?â
âNever said that either.â She smiles when the next pair of jeans hovers over you. âThese are nice. Hey, wanna play a game?â
You answer with hesitation, because youâve known Eunchae long enough to know the games she plays sometimes come with a price. âWhat kind of game?â
Her eyes find yours, and they have that twinkle in them, the same one thatâs there whenever sheâs in her playful mood, which, to be honest is most of the time. Youâve missed this, missed just, hanging out with her. You paint a suspicious look on your face, but you know probably as well as she does, whatever she says, youâre gonna say yes.
Luckily, itâs actually pretty harmless. âLetâs each pick out an outfit for each other!â
âY-you trust me to do that?â
Her smile goes soft. âI know youâll make me look cute. Plus, Iâve seen you dress up before,â and leaning in close, she whispers, âand I know you only wore these sweats because you were planning to fuck me.â She says it quiet, almost too quiet, and itâs jarring based on how the rest of the day has gone.
âEunchae!?â You yelp, even though itâs misplaced, because sheâs hit it right on the mark.
âHmm?â she plays oblivious. âAnyway, meet here in 10 minutes with an outfit. Make me look cute~â
Your brain is a haze, but you manage to pick out an outfit you think sheâd like. A miracle, really. Flipping through all the clothes, you tried to imagine her in them, but then youâd remember her breath on your ear, whispering to you that she knows how bad you want to fuck her. And then the clothes you were imagining her with disappear.
You shake the thought from your head, going back to the middle of the store to meet up with her. And of course, sheâs not there. Itâs nearly another 10 minutes before she comes back, toothy smile lining her face.
âWhat happened to an outfit?â you ask, gesturing to the 4 pairs of pants and 6 tops sheâs carrying.
âI couldnât just choose one! Whatâd you get me?â
You sheepishly hold up the plaid skirt, button up shirt and checkered sleeveless knit, unable to help the feeling youâve been one upped. âI was going for like, a preppy look. I thought it would be cute.â
Eunchae tosses a couple of items on a nearby clothing wrack, holding up a similarly preppy looking outfit. âLooks like weâre matching!â
âI donât know, Iâd say you altered the probability a bit,â you say rolling your eyes playfully.
âNo, I think we just think alike!â
After much convincing (puppy eyes are dangerous), Eunchae convinces you to buy the outfits (âYouâre my supervisor now! Supervisors treat their employees!â), and leave wearing them.
Itâs definitely a confidence booster. You remember how you felt when that TikTok went viral, and all the comments clowned you for getting face caked. You remember how hundreds of men flocked to the store after that, just to get a look at the two cute girls that did the face caking. You hope some of those men are here now, watching you get dragged along to the various shops of the mall, outfits matching.
âYou know I had a weird strategy when I was in elementary school,â Eunchae says shortly after leaving a cosmetic store. âIf I had a crush on someone, Iâd buy them a candle, or facemasks.â
âThatâs not so weird is it?â
âYeah, but do you know why?â
âHmm. No. No idea.â
âBecause a candle fills an entire room with a scent! And, if they associate that scent with me, then whenever theyâre in that room, theyâd be thinking of me!â
âSmart,â you chuckle. âDid it ever work?â
âYeah, but Iâm also cute, so that could be a factor.â
âGood point. What about the facemasks?â
She smiles proudly. âWell, when do you do facemasks?â
âI guess⌠I do them before I go to bed.â
âExactly! So I thought if someone were to do a facemask I got them before they slept, theyâd have dreams about me.â
âWell, that one seems like a little bit of a stretch,â you chuckle.
âWanna test it out?â
âWhat do you mean?â
She reaches into her arm bag, pulling out a candle and some facemasks. You take them slowly, and before the implication can settle in, she grabs your hand again, pulling you away again.
The rest of the mall trip goes by almost too fast. A lot more stores, pretzels, and ice cream, but eventually, itâs time to go home.
âI wonder how Chaewonâs doing,â she says as you leave the building. âThat new hire is working, right? Hope heâs not a weirdo.â
âHe wonât be! I personally hired him. Did the interview and everything.â
âWow, good job Mr. Supervisor.â
The nickname gives you PTSD. âDonât call me that!â
âHehe~ d-do you wanna go check on the store? Itâs on the way,â she asks, but her voice is different. Cautious. You have no idea what to make of it, so, you just answer honestly.
âOn my day off? Not particularly, no.â
âHmm.â
âDid you want to?â
Eunchae wraps and arm around your bicep this time, your hands being full of shopping bags. âNope! Letâs go drop this stuff off.â
The walk there is mostly silent, but Eunchae still clings to your arm. Thereâs been a pep to her step all day, youâre not sure Eunchae knows how to operate without it, that boundless energy, but for some reason, itâs softer now.
You donât even mind the silence though. Itâs nice, just being here beside Eunchae. Ever since youâve started at Cozyâs, things have been crazy, even more so once you became supervisor. Except those first few weeks, getting close to Chaewon and Eunchae in that empty cafe. Those times were peaceful. This reminds you of that.
The thought of how you started the day off, with sweats and an expectation to fuck doesnât even cross your mind.
âHelp me take the bags up?â she asks when you approach her apartment building.
âOf course.â
Youâre getting that feeling, when things are about to end, the day having been spent when you donât want it to. That bittersweet line between exhaustion and wanting to keep the fun going.
She lets you into her apartment, and you realize itâs the first time youâve been here. You plop her bags at near her front door, some pocket you can reach without intruding too far with your shoes on. You donât want to make the same mistake as last time in assuming youâre allowed to stay.
âTea?â she asks right on cue.
Youâre plopped down on her couch, tired after a long day out. It feels later than it is, because itâs only 4pm and you could crash right now. You sit up as Eunchae approaches, half because you could use a tea right now, and half because it looks like thereâs purpose to her movements.
She puts your tea on the coffee table, sitting down on the floor between the couch and it. She lets the silence sit there for a bit, not the same as the walk home.
âI really had fun today,â she says.
âI did too, Eunchae.â You can tell sheâs weighing things, deciding whether to say something. Maybe she has been the whole silent walk home. âYou okay?â
âYeah!â she says, a little too loud.
âEunchae,â you say, sliding off the couch and onto the floor next to her. âRemember what I told you that night weâ that night at Chaewonâs? Weâre friends. Friends tell each other things,â you say. Itâs not like this is surprising that she has something to say. Itâs why you planned to go out with her in the first place. Because you could tell, something was off.
âI justââ she hesitates.
âI know, you donât want to be pushy. But you can be, Eunchae. Youâre pushy, you like when people tell you things, you like sharing your feelings with others. Itâs one of the things I love about you most.â
She sits there for a bit, and you faintly remember that night in Chaewonâs apartment, where you both sat on the floor in front of a couch, and opened up to each other. âI thought you didnât have room for me anymore.â
Itâs a fair accusation, but it still pains you all the same. âEunchaeââ
âItâs justâ I know Iâd always ask to hang out, and I know you couldnât because you were busy. But every time Iâd ask and youâd say ânot this timeâ, or âI have to help Yunjin,â I thought I was being too pushy, annoying you by pestering you all the time. And then you became supervisor, and I didnât want to keep on annoying you.â
âEunchae, Iâ why didnât you tell me?â
âHow could I?â
âWhat do you mean, you can tell me anything.â
âItâs not like I thought you were ignoring me or anything. I just thought, I donât know, you didnât have the capacity for me outside of work.â
You shift on the floor, angle yourself towards her. âEunchae, I will always have time*â*â but you stop yourself, because if youâre honest, sheâs right. You havenât been making time for her.
âIâve seen how stressed you were over Chaewon the last couple weeks, I would see you put yourself out there to help Yunjin with posters, and I just kept thinking, âis there a place for me in this store anymore?â The three of you felt so tapped in, and I donât know, I care about the store, but itâsâ I care about the people more. And I think I show that by, doing whatever it is I do that probably annoyed you in the first placeâ
âEunchae, you mean so much to all of us! Never once have you annoyed me! I wasâ I know itâs not an excuse, but things have been busy.â
She hugs her knees. âEven saying this now, I feel so stupid. And it is a real excuse! All of you are so busy, and I feel like Iâm like some kid begging for attention. Itâs like I never changed. Like that same pushy kid that lost her old life, her old friends is still here.â
âBut thatâs not you at all!â You say, because you can see exactly how she came to that conclusion in her head, but you donât really have the words to articulate how much of a fool she is for thinking that. âYou can be pushy with me any time you want.â
She sniffles. âI can?â
âIâve said it before, Eunchae. I mean it.â
âO-okay. Then, you still have room for me right?â
âWhat did I tell you last time?â
A choked chuckle comes out. âThatâs right. Weâre best friends. You know, I was so happy when you asked me to hang out. Iâd been asking you for so long, I almost just gave up. Settled for only being your coworker. And I didnât want to take it out on you, didnât want to harbour any bitterness.â
âWell, Iâm glad I asked you. Really. And I mean it, you really are my best friend.â
She heaves a heavy sigh, the relief of who knows how long sheâs been feeling this way released. She leans a head on your shoulder. âThatâs why came with sweatpants ready to fuck, right? Because weâre best friends?â
You can feel your cheeks go red. âWellâ youâve been asking for it for so long!â
âAnd youâve been dodging me for so long.â
âAre we really talking about this right after, I donât know, that heavy emotional stuff!?â You say incredulously, but itâs a good indicator that the conversation has taken a turn, and although neither of you have really apologized, itâs a sign that everything is okay.
âItâs relevant.â
âWhen did you become so bold, Eunchae? You were so shy whenââ
âWhat, when you fucked me on Chaewonâs floor while she was sleeping 2 feet away?â
âYeah, that.â
âWell luckily now, we have the whole apartment to ourselves.â
The implications are obvious, especially considering Eunchae has done this countless times within the past few weeks. This time, though, it wonât just be an empty invitation. This time, youâll indulge her, half as an apology for making her feel like she didnât have a place, and half because she looks so fucking good.
Youâre surprised when, instead of jumping you like she did in the washroom of Cozyâs weeks ago, she rushes to the door. She fiddles with the shopping bags, and sheâs back, this time with the candle she got you.
âNow, every time you light this, every time you smell this candle, youâll remember whatâs about to happen.â She says, placing the now lit candle on the table.
âOh? And whatâs about to happen?â You ask, as the scent of coffee and caramel fills the room.
She drags you by the arms, lifting you up, and her lips find yours with vigour. You know in your mind that this means something, more than you let yourselves say. Thereâs the candle and the facemasks, the implications of why she got it for you. Thereâs that want that she expressed, for her to be more important in your life, for her to have a bigger space in your heart, and itâs all framed with the casualness of it all.
She flirts, advances on you like it doesnât mean anything. But it doesâ the fact that youâre not always available, clearly it hurts her. And youâre not sure what it means to you, but it does mean something.
Itâs not like you can convey this in just words, so you do it with your lips as the candle burns beside you. She tastes like you remember her tastingâ why would she taste any different? But itâs telling the way that familiarity eggs you on more, causes your tongues to clash even harder.
Itâs problematic, probably. The way your conversation flipped from something important, from feelings to physical like the flip of a switch, but you canât stop now. You donât even realize your hands are practically tearing her clothes off.
âMmmâ youâre gonna ruin our matching clothes,â she says all breathy.
âLet them get ruined,â you say.
âW-wait, theyâre cute.â
Your hands work to get them off anyway. âTheyâre just clothes.â
âBut y-you got them for me. Theyâre important.â She huffs.
You break away from her lips, and you remember that this is Eunchae. She likes to act bold, sheâs been asking for this, for sex for weeks, but when it comes down to it, sheâs a softy, and things like this really matter to her. That bold act was just her way of making you pay attention to her.
You take her in, the way her chest heaves with heavy breaths, the red in her cheeks. Your hand fixes the collar of her shirt, the one you rumpled in the heat of the kiss.
She gives you a smile. It takes a lot not to jump back in while she undresses. She even takes a moment to neatly fold the clothes. She takes her shirt off first, and you see her luscious breasts, those brown button nipples youâve been wanting to taste again, but you let her go slowly.
You almost lose it when she takes her skirt off, revealing her blue panties, before taking those off too, but then she looks at you, eyebrows raised. âWell, your turn.â
Itâs so unbelievably Eunchae, the slowness of it all. The care of it. It frames her boldness earlier in a different light, like sheâs been craving this.
So you take your clothes off too. Itâs embarrassing, really, her naked, watching you undress. But itâs worth it, because when you finally do, she crashes her lips back on yours. This time, you can feel her skin on yours, the softness of her pressing against you. You wrap your arms around her waist softly, letting your yourself savour the feel of her skin.
âThis is different,â you say between breaths.
âWhat do you mean different?â She asks, hands roaming your chest.
âI just thought, after that time in the bathroom, youâd grown more bold.â
âAre you calling me sex-crazed?â She pushed you onto the couch, legs enclosing you. You can feel the warmth of her pussy scrape your cock, but she doesnât move to put it in.
âNever said that.â
âDo you want me to be more bold?â
You pull her closer, and you feel her wetness on your pelvis. Your cock strains, but this moment is too tense, like any sudden movement can break it, so you just hold her.
âI want you to be Eunchae,â you say.
She rests her forehead on yours. âThat time in the bathroom, do you think that wasnât me?â
You climb your hands up her waist, across her silky back, snaking them to the front and finding her breasts. âNo, that was you. A version of you.â
âAnd whatâs this?â
You find her nipples, giving them a soft pinch. âThisâ itâs more real.â
She squirms as you pinch, lips finding yours again.
The heat between you two is almost unbearable, and you want to feel her. Want to be inside of her.
âEunchaeâ Iâm sorry,â you say almost out of desperation. âSorry forâ for making you feel lonely.â
âIâm not lonely right now,â she says.
You kiss down her face, finding her neck. You latch onto it, kissing and sucking it softly.
âNngh, shit.â She moves her pelvis, finding your cock. She doesnât let it enter just yet, just slides her pussy up and down the shaft with gentle movements.
You want to enter her, to feel her around you, but you can barely move your hips with how good this feels.
âEunchaeââ you moan. âEunchae, this, Iââ
âWhat,â she moans. âTell me what you want.â
âI want toâ nnghâ to feel you again.â
She lifts her hips slightly, just enough to reach a hand down to your manhood, positioning it at her entrance.
âFuck,â you moan, and she moans too.
You nearly explode as she lowers herself on your body. Youâve felt her before, but this time itâs different. Maybe itâs that damn candle, filling the room, maybe itâs her smooth skin, rubbing on yours, maybe itâs the confusion of it all, the feelings that she just shared.
She bottoms out, and it proves too much. Her head drops on your chest.
âJesus, Eunchae. Youâ you feel so fucking good.â And you know in your heart, this isnât what best friends do. This is something more. But you canât let yourself think that, because if you do, your head might explode. Thereâs another you feel this way towards too, which complicates things even further, and going down that path, thinking about Chaewon in this moment would do nothing good.
Eunchae props herself up, and the absence of warmth of her pressed against your chest is missed, but you open your eyes, and you can see her naked body slowly bounce on top of you.
Itâs almost like sheâs a different person than the one youâve been ignoring, reaching out for attention. The pressure on your cock, the feeling of her walls against you increases tenfold as you take her in. Her face, screwed up in pleasure, her breasts, bouncing slightly, her hair, all over the place, you donât know how you ever let it go this long without giving her what sheâs wanted.
You lift her off of you slowly, and she shudders at your absence, but you lay her down on the couch, positioning yourself at her entrance. Youâre over top of her now, and her eyes are closed with expectancy.
You canât delay it any longer if you tried. You enter her, strokes still slow and sensual.
âNnnghâ shit, Eunchae,â you groan as her head rolls back in pleasure.
You collapse on top of her in the pleasure, cock still lodged inside of her.
âIâve been waiting for this for so long,â she breaths. âFuck, give it to me.â
You increase your speed, just by a little, but you both feel the effects. Your pelvis is a mess of her wetness, and every time you slide in and out of her is heaven.
Her body arches as you continue to pump. You finally find the strength to prop yourself up, find a better angle to thrust. You take a hand, find her clit while she squirms.
She tightens immediately around you. âHolyâ nngh. Iâm gonna- fuck- Iâm gonna cum.â
âCum for me,â you continue thrusting.
She grabs the forearm thatâs rubbing her clit tightly, as her walls do the same to your piece. âFu-fuck,â she cums.
You bottom out, feeling her walls convulse around you, and the pressure inside of you your pelvis starts to rise as well.
You slowly pull out, not all the way, just enough to see the strings of her cum connect your pelvises, before slowly pushing back in. The pleasure grows to a peak, it crawls up your spine. âIâm gonna cum too, Eunchae.â
She reaches up to you, pulling you back into her embrace, lips crashing against yours.
You fight it for as long as you can, pumping in and out of her, but soon, you lose control. You explode inside of her, shooting your hot spunk inside of her. Even then, as you cum, you donât stop pumping, until the last of your load is spilled.
Only then do you collapse on top of her, both of you breathy.
âJesus, Eunchae,â you groan. You slowly pull out, a trail of your liquids gushing out of her pussy.
âTh-that was amazing,â she moans, hugging you tightly.
The candle burns brightly beside you.
You let the moment sit between you. You know this complicates things even further, you know that at the end of the day, allowing things to continue so casually is probably a bad thing. Hell, you knew that the first time. But none of that matters in the moment. For now, youâre not coworkers, youâre not even best friends. Youâre just you and Eunchae, laying on her couch.
You stay there for a while.
---
âCome on, these posters arenât going to hang themselves!â Yunjin yells, gesturing you forward. âWhat the hell happened? You look like a zombie.â
âJust tired,â you say, unfurling some tape for her.
She hangs the advert on a lamp post.
âDo we really need these posters? I feel like that TikTok brought in enough customers already.â
âWell, they canât hurt can they. Letâs go across the street. That side gets more foot traffic anyway.â
âMmmk. Are you sure we donât need like, permits or anything?â You question.
âTo hang a piece of paper? No,â she says, crossing the street without looking.â
âHey, be careful. Anyway, I think-â
âWhat the hell!?â Yunjin yells once she gets to the other side, tearing another poster off the wall. âLook at this!â
âWhatâs the problem?â
âLook!â She hands you the paper, and itâs a poster quite similar to yours, with the words âopening soon!â in bold letters framing the page.
âSo, another cafe is opening? Big deal. Thereâs a million cafeâs all across the city.â
âLook at the address!â she yells.
You do, and, as if challenging what youâve built, the address is written in bold black letters.
âShit,â you sigh. âThis is right across the street from Cozyâsâ.
---
A/N:
Hey all, finally, it's here. I know it's been a while, and this chapter is kind of all over the place. Definitely not where I want it to be (I know I say this for every damn chapter I release lol). But I just can't delay this any longer. Cafe Cuties is my baby, the story that got me to where I am today. But idk, let me know what you think!