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They did exactly as I hoped. Within fifteen minutes, all five had drank from the bottles I'd prepared. The sedative would take effect in about thirty—fast-acting, disorienting, leaving them conscious but helpless, unable to move or scream properly. I'd used it before.

The first signs appeared during the initial shots. Yeji stumbled slightly while posing against the white wall. "I feel dizzy," she murmured, pressing a hand to her forehead.

"Maybe you should sit down," I suggested, guiding her to a folding chair. Her legs gave out before she reached it, and I caught her, my hands gripping her waist. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused. "It's okay," I whispered in her ear. "Just relax."

Behind me, Yuna had collapsed onto a prop couch, her head lolling to the side. Lia was leaning against the backdrop, sliding down slowly. Ryujin tried to reach for her phone but her fingers wouldn't cooperate. Chaeryeong was already unconscious on the floor.

I locked the studio door.

Yeji was the most alert, still fighting the drug. I dragged her to the center of the room, laying her on the padded floor where we'd been shooting. Her eyes were wide, terrified, but her body wouldn't obey her commands. She could only watch as I knelt beside her.

"Please," she whispered, the word slurred. "Don't..."

I ignored her. My hands found her waist, sliding up under her crop top. Her skin was warm, smooth. I pushed the shirt up, exposing her breasts. She wore no bra—the fabric of the crop top had been enough for the shoot. Her nipples were already hard, but not from arousal. From fear.

I pinched them, rolling the stiff peaks between my fingers. A whimper escaped her lips. "Such perfect tits," I muttered, leaning down to suck one into my mouth. I bit down gently at first, then harder, until she cried out—a weak, pathetic sound that barely reached the ceiling.

My other hand slid down her stomach, fingers hooking into the waistband of her red leggings. They were high-waisted, tight, but I ripped them open with a single strong pull. The fabric tore from crotch to hip, exposing her black thong. I tore that too, revealing her bare pussy. She was shaved, clean, the lips slightly parted.

"Look at that," I said, pressing two fingers against her slit. She was dry, but I didn't care. I pushed inside, feeling the tight resistance of her virgin-tight cunt. She screamed, a raw, broken sound that turned into sobbing. "Shut up," I growled, shoving my fingers deeper. Three fingers now, stretching her. She bucked helplessly, tears streaming down her face.

I pulled my fingers out, wet with her blood from the tearing, and brought them to her mouth. "Suck," I commanded. She refused, turning her head away. I grabbed her jaw, forcing it open, and shoved my fingers into her mouth. She gagged as I tasted her own blood and juices on her tongue. "You will fucking take it."

Yuna was next. I left Yeji sprawled on the floor, cum dripping from her gaping hole, and moved to the couch. Yuna was half-conscious, moaning softly. I stripped off her orange shirt, revealing her small, firm breasts. Her black leggings came off easily—I simply pulled them down, along with her pink lace underwear.

I positioned her on her stomach, lifting her hips into the air. Her ass was perfect, round and tight. I spread her cheeks, exposing her pink asshole. "You like that, don't you?" I said, spitting on my index finger and pressing it against her anus. She whimpered as I pushed in, one knuckle, two, then the whole finger. Her sphincter clenched around me. "Tight little ass."

I worked a second finger in, scissoring them to stretch her out. She was crying now, tears soaking the couch cushion. "Please... please stop..." Her voice was barely a whisper.

I pulled my fingers out and replaced them with the tip of my cock. I had already freed it from my jeans—thick, hard, veined. I pressed against her asshole, and she screamed as I pushed in. The head popped past the ring of muscle, and she screamed louder, her body convulsing. I forced myself deeper, inch by inch, until I was buried to the hilt in her rectum. Her sobs filled the room.

I fucked her ass slow at first, then faster, harder, my balls slapping against her pussy. I reached around and grabbed her tits, twisting her nipples viciously. She screamed into the cushion. I came deep inside her, my cum flooding her bowels, then pulled out and watched some of it leak from her stretched hole.

Lia had managed to crawl toward the door. I grabbed her ankle and dragged her back, her mint leggings scraping against the floor. She was crying, begging, her hands reaching for the door that was meters away. I flipped her onto her back, ripped her leggings and underwear off in one motion, and spread her legs wide.

"Please, I'll do anything, just let me go—"

"You'll do anything anyway," I said, positioning myself between her thighs. Her pussy was wet—from fear, from the drug, I didn't care. I slammed into her in one thrust, no warning, no preparation. Her back arched, a guttural scream tearing from her throat.

I fucked her missionary style, my hands around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her vision go dark at the edges. She clawed at my wrists, but her strength was gone. I throttled her, releasing just before she blacked out, then squeezing again. Her moans turned to gurgles. I came inside her, then pulled out and slapped her face, hard, leaving a red mark across her cheek.

Ryujin was fighting back. She'd managed to push herself to her knees, her body trembling. I approached her, and she swung a weak punch that I caught easily. "Bitch," I snarled, twisting her arm behind her back. I forced her onto her stomach, then climbed onto her, straddling her thighs. I pulled her white crop top over her head, using it to tie her hands behind her back with the sleeves.

Her magenta leggings were tight, but I had scissors. I cut them off her, slicing through the fabric from ankle to waist, then tore her panties away. She was sobbing, cursing me, her body shaking with rage and fear.

I spread her legs and entered her from behind, prone bone position. My chest pressed against her back, my mouth at her ear. "You're going to take every inch," I hissed, thrusting deep. She screamed into the floor, her fists clenched. I bit her shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, and licked the wound. Her cries were muffled by the carpet.

I fucked her for what felt like hours, pounding into her cunt until she was raw, then pulling out and shoving my cock into her mouth. She gagged, choked, but I held her head down, forcing her to take it. I came on her face, painting her cheeks and lips with cum.

Chaeryeong was still unconscious. Good. I wanted her last.

I dragged her to the center of the room, laying her next to Yeji, who was barely conscious, legs still shaking from the multiple orgasms I'd forced on her. Chaeryeong's fuchsia shirt was bright against her pale skin. I stripped it off, then her black leggings, then her white thong. She was beautiful, completely vulnerable.

I took out the anal beads from my bag—a string of ten silicone beads, each larger than the last. I lubed them up and pressed the first against her asshole. She stirred, moaning, as I pushed it in. One by one, I fed the beads into her rectum, watching her unconscious body twitch and react. When all ten were inside, I pulled them out slowly, watching her hole clench and release.

Then I took out the dildo—a massive, veined silicone cock, nearly twelve inches. I lubed that too, and pressed it against her pussy. She whimpered as I pushed it in, her cunt stretching to accommodate the fake cock. I fucked her with it, slow at first, then harder, until she started to wake, her eyes fluttering open, a scream caught in her throat.

"Good morning," I said, still working the dildo in and out. "You've missed a lot."

She tried to push me away, but her arms were like noodles. I grabbed her throat with one hand, squeezing, while the other continued to fuck her with the dildo. Her oxygen cut off, she bucked and twitched, then went limp again. I didn't stop. I used the dildo until she came—an unconscious orgasm, her body shaking against her will.

Now for the real fun.

I stacked them. One on top of another, like a pile of helpless flesh. Yeji on the bottom, then Lia, then Ryujin, then Yuna, then Chaeryeong on top. Their legs were spread, their holes exposed. I took photos—hundreds of photos. Close-ups of their faces, their tears, their gaping cunts and asses, the cum dripping from their bodies. Each flash illuminated their humiliation.

"These are going to be very popular," I said, holding up the camera. "Imagine your fans seeing these. Imagine your parents. Your boyfriends. You'll do whatever I say, won't you?"

They cried, begged, promised anything.

I wasn't done.

I grabbed Yeji, pulling her off the pile. Her legs were shaking so badly she couldn't stand, so I lifted her—carry sex style, her legs wrapped around my waist, my cock inside her as I held her up. I fucked her while walking around the studio, each step driving me deeper into her. She clung to me, sobbing into my shoulder, her nails digging into my back. I bit her neck, sucked bruises into her skin, and came inside her again.

Then I put her on her knees and took the belt from my pants. I wrapped it around her throat, pulling tight. "Suck my cock," I ordered. She couldn't breathe, but she opened her mouth, and I shoved my dick down her throat. I fucked her face, strangling her with the belt, until she went limp. I let go, and she gasped, coughed, vomited on the floor.

I bent Lia over my lap, her bare ass in the air. I spanked her—hard, relentless slaps that turned her pale skin bright red. She screamed with every blow, her legs kicking. I grabbed her thighs and spread them, spanking her pussy too, making her cunt clench and spasm. Then I bit her ass cheeks, nibbled the skin, left teeth marks.

I fucked her after that, piledriver position—her legs over my shoulders, her body folded almost in half, my cock driving straight down into her womb. She came, and came again, her eyes rolling back, her screams turning to hoarse whimpers.

Ryujin got the full nelson. I locked my arms around hers, pulling them behind her head, and fucked her standing up, her body bent forward, my cock ramming into her from behind. Her legs shook, buckled, but I held her up, my weight driving her down onto my shaft. I came deep, then released her, and she collapsed in a heap.

Yuna got the standing sex treatment against the wall. I pinned her there, her legs spread, my cock inside her pussy, my hand around her throat. I strangled her slowly, watching her face turn red, her eyes bulge, then released just as she was about to pass out. I did it again, and again, each time pounding her harder, until she lost consciousness for real. I kept fucking her unconscious body until I came.

Chaeryeong was last. I tied her hands with the belt, looped it around her neck, and fucked her prone bone again, but this time with my full weight on her, strangling her slowly with the belt as I fucked. She struggled, clawed at the belt, but I was stronger. I came inside her, then rolled her over and fucked her face until she choked on my cum.

I looked around the studio. Five broken bodies, covered in cum, bruises, blood. The camera had captured everything. I had the leverage I needed—blackmail that would keep them coming back, keep them silent, keep them obedient.

Karina turned, a small smirk playing on her lips. Her dark hair cascaded over one shoulder. “Thanks. But I’m tired of being amazing for everyone else right now.” She stepped closer, fingers tracing the collar of your shirt. “I want to be selfish tonight. With you.”

Your pulse jumped. This thing between you had been building for months—stolen glances during van rides, late-night texts, the occasional brush of hands that lingered too long. Tonight felt different. Like she’d finally decided to stop holding back.

She pulled you into a kiss that started soft but quickly turned hungry. Her body pressed against yours, soft curves molding perfectly. You cupped her face, deepening the kiss until she sighed into your mouth. When you broke apart, her eyes were already hazy with want.

“Bedroom,” she whispered.

Clothes came off in a trail across the suite. By the time you reached the king-sized bed, she was in nothing but black lace panties, and you were down to your boxers. Karina pushed you onto your back and climbed on top, straddling your thighs. Her hands slid down your chest as she leaned in for another kiss.

She worked her way lower, kissing and nipping at your skin until she reached the waistband of your boxers. She tugged them down, freeing your cock—already hard and throbbing for her. Karina wrapped her elegant fingers around the base and gave a slow, teasing stroke.

“Been thinking about this,” she murmured, looking up at you through her lashes. She leaned down and took you into her mouth, warm and wet and perfect. Her head bobbed slowly at first, tongue swirling around the head, then faster. The sight of Karina—global it girl—sucking you off like this was almost too much. You groaned, hand gently threading through her hair.

She pulled off for a second, stroking you firmly with her hand while catching her breath. “You’re so big… love how you feel.” Then she was back on it, taking you deeper, jerking the base in time with her mouth until your hips were bucking up involuntarily.

You had to stop her before you finished too soon. “Karina—wait. Want to feel you.”

She smiled, wiping her lips. You flipped her onto her back and kissed down her body, paying special attention to her breasts. They were full and soft, nipples already hard. You sucked one into your mouth while kneading the other, drawing pretty moans from her. Then you positioned your cock between them.

“Fuck my tits,” she said breathlessly, pressing them together around you.

The feeling was incredible—soft, warm flesh enveloping you as you started thrusting. Karina looked up at you, tongue occasionally darting out to lick the tip when it got close to her mouth. You groaned at the sight, hips moving faster, the slick slide driving you crazy. She squeezed tighter, watching your face with dark, satisfied eyes.

“Gonna come if you keep that up,” you warned.

“Do it. On my chest.”

You did, spilling across her tits with a deep groan. She looked stunning covered in you—flushed and breathing hard. You grabbed a warm towel from the bathroom and cleaned her gently, but she pulled you back down before you could finish.

“I need you inside me,” she whispered.

You slid her panties off and spread her legs. She was soaked. You rubbed your cock against her folds before pushing in slowly, savoring every inch. Karina’s back arched, a soft gasp escaping as you bottomed out.

“Move… please.”

You started thrusting, deep and steady. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. The position let you kiss her while you fucked her—messy, open-mouthed kisses that matched the rhythm of your hips. You could feel her tightening around you already.

Switching things up, you pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach. She got on all fours, ass up, looking back at you over her shoulder with that signature Karina confidence mixed with need. You gripped her hips and slid back in, the new angle making her moan louder.

“Harder,” she demanded.

You gave it to her, pounding deep. The sound of skin slapping filled the room. You reached around to rub her clit, and she came hard, clenching around your cock with a cry of your name. You kept going, chasing your own release, then flipped her back over so you could see her face when you finally came inside her, filling her up as she trembled through the aftershocks.

You collapsed beside her, both of you sweaty and spent. Karina curled into your side immediately, head on your chest, one leg thrown over yours.

“Special privilege, huh?” you teased, running fingers through her hair.

She laughed softly, the sound tired but happy. “Only for you. Don’t let it go to your head, manager-nim.”

“Too late.” You kissed the top of her head. “But I’ve got you. Always.”

She hummed contentedly, tracing patterns on your stomach. The city lights twinkled outside while the two of you stayed tangled together, the weight of schedules and cameras forgotten for a few precious hours.

The heavy curtains were drawn tight in the luxury suite, blocking out any sense of time. The clock on the wall said we had exactly twelve hours before the outside world mattered again. Kwon Eunbi stood in the middle of the room wearing nothing but a sheer black robe that hid nothing. Her massive tits strained against the thin fabric, nipples already hard. She looked at me with that hungry, confident stare.

“JWR-155. Twelve hours. No tapping out,” she said, voice low. “I want to be completely wrecked by the end. Think you can handle me that long?”

I pulled her close and kissed her hard. “Try me.”

We started on the big couch. Eunbi dropped to her knees first, yanking my pants down. Her soft hand wrapped around my cock and stroked with firm, eager pulls. She licked my balls slowly, sucking them one by one while jerking me faster. The wet sounds were loud in the quiet room. Then she took me deep into her mouth, throat relaxing as she bobbed, saliva dripping onto her heavy tits.

“Fuck, your mouth feels perfect,” I groaned, hand resting on her head.

She hummed around my shaft and pushed deeper, gagging herself until tears pricked her eyes. After a few minutes she stood up, shrugged off the robe, and pressed those massive breasts around my cock. The titfuck was slow and teasing at first, then faster. She squeezed them tight, tongue flicking the head every time it popped through.

I sucked on her nipples while she worked me, biting gently. Eunbi moaned louder. She jerked me with both hands between her tits until I couldn’t hold back. The first load of the day shot across her face and tits—thick ropes landing on her cheeks, lips, and deep cleavage. She smiled, scooping some onto her fingers and licking it up.

“That’s just the warm-up,” she said, wiping her face but leaving most of it.

We moved to the bed. I laid her down and buried my face between her thighs. Her pussy was already soaked. I licked her slowly at first, dragging my tongue up her slit before sucking hard on her clit. Eunbi’s hips bucked, fingers gripping my hair.

“Eat that pussy like you mean it,” she demanded.

I slid two fingers inside her, curling them while my tongue attacked her clit. She got louder fast. Her thighs squeezed my head as she came hard, squirting all over my face and the sheets. I kept licking through it, drawing out every spasm.

She climbed on my face next, riding my tongue like a woman possessed. Face riding turned aggressive quick. Eunbi ground her wet pussy against my mouth, smothering me with her weight while her massive tits bounced above me. I sucked her clit and tongue-fucked her hole until she squirted again, flooding my mouth.

“Shit—yes!” she cried, body shaking.

The first round of real fucking started after that. I bent her over the edge of the bed and slammed in deep. Eunbi moaned loud, pushing back to take every inch. I fucked her hard, skin slapping loudly, gripping her wide hips. Her heavy tits swung beneath her with every thrust.

We went through every position we could think of in those early hours. Missionary with her legs on my shoulders, deep and rough. Cowgirl where she bounced like crazy, tits flying as she rode. Reverse cowgirl so I could watch her perfect ass slam down. Doggy where I pulled her hair and spanked her red.

She came multiple times, squirting again and again until the bed was soaked. Around the third hour, while I was pounding her in prone bone, she suddenly tensed.

“I can’t hold it—fuck!” Warm piss mixed with her squirt sprayed out around my cock as she lost control. She moaned in embarrassment and pleasure while I kept thrusting through it, the extra wetness making everything messier.

We took a short water break but never stopped touching. She gave me another sloppy blowjob on the floor, licking my balls and deepthroating me until I painted her face with the second load. Cum dripped from her chin onto her tits.

Hours blurred together. We fucked against the wall, her legs wrapped around me while I lifted her and pounded up hard. Then back on the bed for more titfucking mixed with handjobs. Eunbi sucked on my nipples while stroking me, driving me crazy until I added another load across her stomach and thighs.

By the sixth or seventh hour we were both sweaty and exhausted but still going. I had her in full nelson, holding her legs wide open while thrusting deep. Eunbi’s moans were hoarse now.

“Harder—don’t you dare slow down,” she gasped.

She came again, squirting weakly this time, body trembling. Later, during a long, rough cowgirl session, it happened again. She was bouncing fast and deep when another wave hit. Piss sprayed out hard around my cock as she kept riding through the orgasm, face flushed red.

“Fuck… I peed again,” she panted, but didn’t stop moving. “Keep fucking me.”

I flipped her and railed her missionary, choking her lightly while pounding. We lost count of how many times she came. Her pussy was swollen and creamy, leaking constantly.

I pulled out and jerked myself over her face for the next load. Thick cum covered her forehead, cheeks, and open mouth. Eunbi swallowed what landed on her tongue and smiled tiredly.

The final hours were slower but still intense. We stayed in lotus position, her sitting on my cock, grinding deep while we kissed messily. I sucked her tits and nipples the whole time. She rode me through two more orgasms, squirting on my stomach.

I laid her on her back for the last big round. Legs over my shoulders, I fucked her as hard as I could manage after so many hours. The room smelled like sex, sweat, and cum. Eunbi’s voice was almost gone from moaning.

“Fill me this time,” she begged. “One deep inside.”

I buried myself and unloaded, pumping rope after rope into her womb. When I pulled out, cum poured from her wrecked pussy. I added the final loads across her tits and face, marking her completely.

We collapsed together after twelve straight hours. The bed was destroyed—wet spots everywhere, cum stains on the sheets, her body glistening with sweat and multiple loads. Eunbi lay on her back, legs still spread, breathing heavily. Cum leaked from her pussy and covered her face, chest, and thighs.

“JWR-155… I think you actually broke me,” she rasped, voice completely fucked out. A weak but satisfied smirk crossed her lips. “Twelve hours of nonstop cock. My pussy is throbbing.”

I could barely move either. Every muscle ached, but the buzz was worth it. Eunbi reached over lazily and stroked my spent cock one last time, smearing the mess.

She looked thoroughly used—hair messy, makeup ruined, body marked with handprints, bite marks, and cum in every place imaginable. Exactly how a dedicated JAV actress wanted to end a marathon session.

“Next time… maybe we go longer,” she whispered, eyes half-closed.

I laughed tiredly. Kwon Eunbi had just survived—and loved—every filthy second of it.

The End.

That’s a fat happy baby.

Eunbi had the thought before she could stop it, which was a little embarrassing. Still, the baby in question was currently beaming up at her from the hallway with the full-body joy only toddlers could manage — cheeks round as persimmons, a little fist shoved halfway into her mouth. Eunbi crouched down instinctively.

“Well, hello there, little miss.”

The baby — Mira, though Eunbi didn’t know that yet — responded by babbling something that might have been a greeting or might have been a declaration of war. Hard to tell with toddlers. Either way, she was very committed to it.

Eunbi was in the middle of babbling back when she heard movement behind the stroller and straightened up.

She was not prepared.

The man was big. That was the first thing. Not just tall — she was used to people being taller than her, that was most of the population — but large in a way that filled the hallway, broad-shouldered and solid, the kind of frame that made the standard apartment corridor feel like it had been built slightly too small. He’d clearly been juggling groceries and a diaper bag and whatever else, and he turned around with the distracted energy of someone who had not expected company.

Neither had she, for that matter.

Eunbi looked up at him. He looked down at her. Mira continued her political speech.

Oh, Eunbi thought, with a clarity that surprised her. Just oh. Something in her chest did something she didn’t have a word for.

“Hi,” she said, because she was a grown adult and capable of speech. “I’m Eunbi.”

The man blinked. Then, from somewhere in his arms, a small voice piped up.

“Mommy?”

Mira was staring at Eunbi with an expression of profound hope. Eunbi’s heart did something catastrophic.

I could be a mommy, said a voice in the back of her brain, completely unprompted and deeply unhinged.

Excuse me? said the rest of her brain.

She had no time to investigate this further because the man was already turning to the baby with the practiced patience of someone who had explained this before. “No, baby. Not mommy.”

Mira considered this information, deemed it unsatisfactory, and looked at Eunbi again as if waiting for a second opinion.

The man turned back with a tired but genuine smile, the kind that deepened the corners of his eyes. “Sorry about that. She meets a woman, and she decides it’s her mommy. Every time.”

Eunbi had her mouth carefully closed over everything her subconscious was apparently willing to volunteer. “It’s fine,” she said. “Really. No big deal.”

He looked grateful in a way that felt like more than politeness. Like maybe he’d been braced for something worse.

“I’m Ozymandias,” he said. “But you can call me Ozzy.”

“Ozzy,” she repeated, like she was filing it away. “You just moved in?”

“Three weeks ago.” He shifted the grocery bag to his other arm. “Wanted to be closer to Mira’s grandma.”

Mira, having apparently decided that the conversation had gone on long enough without her participation, leaned out of his arms toward Eunbi with both hands extended. It was less of a request and more of a demand.

Eunbi accepted her before she’d consciously decided to. The baby settled against her shoulder like she’d done it a hundred times.

“She doesn’t usually—” Ozzy started.

“It’s okay.” Eunbi adjusted her grip, and Mira made a small satisfied sound and grabbed a fistful of her hair. “I don’t mind.”

They stood there for a moment. Down the hall, the elevator dinged.

“She doesn’t look like you,” Eunbi said carefully, not quite sure how to phrase what she was trying to ask.

Ozzy’s expression shifted — not hurt, just familiar with the question. “She’s adopted. Technically my goddaughter.” A beat. “Both her parents passed.”

“Oh.” Eunbi looked down at Mira, who was now examining her earring with the focused intensity of a jeweler. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, quiet about it.

The elevator ride up was four floors and mostly silent in a comfortable way rather than the awkward one, which surprised Eunbi a little. Mira dozed off somewhere between the second and third floor, going heavy and warm against Eunbi’s shoulder with the sudden totality that only babies could manage, like someone had flipped a switch.

Ozzy watched this happen and said nothing. He looked like a man trying not to disturb something fragile.

At the door, he fished for his keys one-handed, eased it open, and turned to take Mira back. The baby woke up just enough to realize what was happening and registered her objection immediately — a low, building sound that was about to become something much louder.

Eunbi and Ozzy both froze.

The sound subsided. Mira’s fist tightened in Eunbi’s hair.

Eunbi met Ozzy’s eyes over the baby’s head. He looked exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with tonight specifically and everything to do with the past however-many months. She recognized that look. She’d seen it on her sister after the first year of motherhood — that particular flavor of love that was also just barely holding on.

“I can stay for a bit,” she heard herself say.

He exhaled — not quite a sigh, more like something releasing. “I’ll make dinner.”

“You don’t have to—”

“You’re holding my kid.” He was already moving toward the kitchen. “Minimum I can do.”

Eunbi looked down at Mira, who had gone back to sleep with absolute conviction.

“Do your worst,” Ozzy said from around the corner, which she realized after a moment was aimed at her, not the refrigerator.

She almost laughed. “That’s my line.”

The kitchen smelled incredible within twenty minutes.

Eunbi had expected something serviceable — bachelor-dad cooking, the kind of meal that got the job done and didn’t ask for applause. What she had not expected was Ozzy moving through the kitchen like he actually knew what he was doing, pulling ingredients with the casual confidence of someone who cooked because he liked it, not because he had to.

“My dad’s recipe,” he said, without looking up from the roux he was building. “Chicken Alfredo Mac and Cheese. It is the only thing that guarantees a clean bowl.”

“High praise.”

“From a 22-month-old? It’s basically a Michelin star.”

Behind her, the living room had become a disaster in the best possible way.

Mira had apparently decided that the short nap had fully restored her and was now conducting a comprehensive tour of her belongings. She produced items from a fabric bin with the energy of a host unveiling auction lots — a yellow ball, a red ball, a ball that was technically a cube but that Mira called a ball anyway and Eunbi didn’t have the heart to correct, two small wooden figures, and then a vinyl Ultraman about four inches tall, paint worn at the edges from handling.

“Auraman,” Mira announced, holding him up.

“Auraman,” Eunbi confirmed seriously as she flexed her muscles. “Very strong?”

Mira nodded with her whole body.

Then came a collection of small wooden sticks that Eunbi turned over in her hands, genuinely puzzled. They were smooth, slightly tapered, and notched at one end. Some kind of puzzle pieces maybe, or parts of something she didn’t recognize. She tried fitting two together. Nothing happened.

Mira watched her struggle for a moment, then took them back with the patience of someone who had seen this before, and slotted four of them together into a shape that Eunbi still couldn’t identify but that clearly meant something to Mira, because she held it up with quiet pride.

“Okay,” Eunbi said. “You’re smarter than me.”

Mira seemed to find this reasonable.

They went through the rest of the bin. Eunbi named things when she knew them and asked questions when she didn’t, and Mira answered everything with a mix of actual words, sound effects, and gestures that Eunbi found she could follow more often than not. It had its own grammar. She just had to listen for it.

I could get used to this.

The thought arrived the same way the last one had — quietly, without asking permission, already halfway settled in before she noticed it.

We are going to have a very long conversation later, said the rest of her brain.

Sure, said that part. Later.

“Ready.” Ozzy set a bowl on the table and pulled off his apron. “I’m going to put Mira down and come back — please, help yourself. Don’t wait on my account.”

Eunbi got up and served herself a portion that she told herself was moderate and that was probably not. The first bite confirmed what the smell had promised.

She was halfway through when she heard Mira’s protests from down the hall, then the low register of Ozzy’s voice talking her down, then quiet. Five minutes later he reappeared, picked up the scattered toys with the automatic efficiency of someone who’d stopped seeing it as a task, and dropped into the chair across from her.

He looked at her bowl. She looked back at him, unashamed.

“Dad’s recipe,” she said. “he’s right.”

Something in his face relaxed.

He served himself and they ate in easy quiet for a moment before Eunbi set down her fork and looked at him properly.

“You do the whole single dad thing pretty well, you know.”

Ozzy shrugged, the way people did when they wanted to accept a compliment but couldn’t quite get there. “I try.” He turned his bowl slightly on the table — a thinking habit, maybe. “We were at the doctor's today. Mira got diagnosed with ADHD.”

Eunbi waited.

“They want to talk about medication options.” He said it evenly, but she could hear what was underneath it. “She’s 22 months old.”

“She’s 22 months old and she’s walking and holding full conversations.”

“Conversations are generous—”

“Ozzy, she gave me a twenty-minute briefing on every toy in that bin. She has opinions about Auraman.” Eunbi pointed toward the living room. “She told me which ball was fastest.”

He laughed at that — a real one, surprised out of him. “The yellow one, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Yeah.” The laugh faded into something softer. He was quiet for a moment. “She’s technically ahead on a lot of milestones. The ADHD diagnosis is early, the doctor said it might shift as she gets older, but they want to stay ahead of it. Which I understand. I do.” He pushed food around his bowl. “It’s just one more thing on a plate that already has too much on it.”

Eunbi watched him. That wasn’t the whole of it — she could tell. The spiral underneath had a different shape than a medical diagnosis.

“She needs to learn English and Spanish and Korean,” he continued. “So she can actually talk to both sets of grandparents. I have to figure out how to build that in early enough that it sticks. And then there’s the developmental stuff, and the appointments, and—”

“Ozzy.”

He stopped.

“What’s actually going on?”

He looked at her. She looked back, patient, not letting him redirect.

A beat. Then: “Mira’s maternal grandparents don’t think I’m a good fit.”

The air in the room changed slightly.

“They keep saying she needs a mother and a father.” He didn’t say it bitterly. That was almost worse — it had the sound of something he’d already processed down to something flat and factual. “They’re not wrong that she’s missing something. I know that. I just—” He stopped. “I don’t know what they want me to do about it.”

“Are they trying to contest the adoption?”

“They’re implying things. Nothing formal. Yet.”

Eunbi was quiet for a moment. Then, before she could catch herself: “Can I help?”

Ozzy blinked. The question had clearly not landed where he expected.

“With what?”

“I don’t know. Whatever needs helping with.”

He looked at her for a moment with an expression she couldn’t fully read — somewhere between grateful and careful — and then said, in a tone that was trying to be lighter than it was: “If you can find me a woman who’s okay with a single dad with a toddler, an ADHD diagnosis pending, a grandmother who will absolutely cook for her, and a stolen Ultraman figure—”

“Auraman.”

“—an Auraman figure, then sure.”

I am literally right here, heck I’ll marry you right now said the traitorous part of Eunbi’s brain, with remarkable calm.

“I’m sure we can come up with something,” she heard herself say.

He smiled at that. Tired, real, the kind that didn’t try to be more than it was.

Eunbi looked at him — the set of his shoulders, the way he was holding the bowl like he’d forgotten it was there — and got up from her chair.

He looked up, slightly startled, as she crossed around the table and put her arms around him from behind. It was a hug that said I see you more than anything else. She felt him go still for a second, like he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

Then some of the tension went out of him.

“You’ve got this,” she said. Resolute. No qualifiers. “You hear me, big guy? You’ve got this.”

He didn’t say anything. But his hand came up and briefly covered hers on his shoulder.

That was enough.

Eunbi’s apartment was quiet in the way that only registered after the noise. Geumbi excitedly scampered through the apartment.

She set her keys on the hook by the door and stood in the entryway for a moment, doing nothing. Through the wall, distantly, she thought she could hear something — or maybe she was imagining it. The building had decent insulation. She was probably imagining it.

She moved through the apartment on autopilot, filling a glass of water, setting it down without drinking it, drifting toward the window. The city outside was doing its usual thing. She wasn’t really looking at it.

She was thinking about the way Ozzy had looked at the dinner table.

Not sad, exactly. Something more specific than sad — the expression of someone who was genuinely trying to carry everything and had gotten good enough at it that most people wouldn’t notice the weight. She’d noticed. She wasn’t sure why she’d noticed, or why it had sat with her all the way through saying goodnight and walking twelve feet down the hall to her own front door, but here she was.

He looked cute, she thought, and then immediately made a face at herself. Very helpful, Eunbi. Very mature.

But he had. Objectively. There was something about a man who was clearly exhausted down to his bones and still got up and made his father’s Chicken Alfredo Mac and Cheese and picked up all the toys after — something that was difficult to be neutral about.

She stopped in front of the hallway mirror without meaning to.

Looked at herself. Looked back at herself.

“Could I actually help him?” she asked.

Her reflection didn’t have a useful answer. Her reflection just looked like a woman who had spent the evening on a stranger’s floor playing with wooden puzzle pieces and a small child named Mira, and who had somehow felt more at home doing it than she had in her own apartment in recent memory.

The traitorous part of her brain, which had been warming up all evening, chose this moment to go completely off-script.

Yes, it said, with a confidence that was frankly alarming. Look at you. “Mom” is basically stamped on your forehead. You have mommy written all over your body.

“Okay—”

Ozzy and you could handle three more kids, easy.

“What?”

Her reflection just looked back at her, unhelpfully.

She pressed her fingers to her temple. Three more. The number had arrived with such specificity that it was almost funny. Not two. Not one. Three more. Names, even — she could feel them forming at the edges of the thought as her brain had already done the paperwork. Doyun. Jisoo. August.

She tried to shake it off and her brain simply… showed her something instead.

It arrived the way good daydreams did, fully furnished and already in motion.

A house that was real in the way houses are real in dreams — solid walls, light coming through in the afternoon way, a yard that was somehow always the right temperature. Mira was at the table with cereal, but she was definitely not eating correctly. Jisoo in her school uniform, is opinionated about something. Doyun and August in the background, at that indeterminate sibling-chaos stage where it was impossible to tell if they were playing or fighting.

Eunbi is at the door.

Ozzy, coat on, lunch in hand — and pausing, because she’d said something, and he turned around and she kissed him like it was something she’d done every day of her adult life.

He walked out looking slightly more like a person than he had when he woke up.

She watched him from the doorway.

Eunbi blinked.

She was still in her hallway. The mirror was still there. She looked, if anything, worse than she had thirty seconds ago.

“You have lost your entire mind,” she told her reflection.

Her reflection appeared to be in a relationship with a man she had known for four hours and was raising five children in a house with good natural light.

“We just met him,” she said.

Her brain offered no rebuttal. It had made its case and was apparently comfortable resting on it.

Eunbi exhaled, turned away from the mirror, and went to go find something to do that wasn’t this. Her glass of water was still on the counter, untouched.

She drank it.

Through the wall, she thought she heard something that might have been a door closing, or might have been nothing at all.

She was smiling, a little, despite herself.

She spent the rest of the night playing and taking care of Geumbi.

When she yawned she decided to wind down for the day.

Eunbi couldn’t find sleep that night…she would just toss and turn waiting for someone or something to take her.

Eunbi lay in her bed alone the window open as she lay trying to find rest until she heard the door open she turned and their Ozzy was naked His cock standing at attention for her. Eunbi licked her lips as she said, “Are you gonna make me a mommy,”

Ozzy walked closer to Eunbi her body on fire as he did.

She opened her legs lewdly and said, “Please fuck me!”

Ozzy got into the bed with her and slid inside her.

“Fuck you’re so big,” she moaned as he barely could get in despite how slick she was. Her cream covered Ozzy’s cock as he slowly thrust in and out of Eunbi for the first time.

Eunbi wailed in delight. She grabbed her bloated bosom and presented it to Ozzy with perverse glee. “Can you imagine it? These filled with milk for our children” she moaned as Ozzy picked up the pace his thrust going deep inside her. She moaned as her walls clenched around the main.

“Claim me!” Eunbi moaned close. Ozzy kept thrusting into her as he did she repeated

“Make me a mommy. Make me a mommy,” until she came.

Eunbi’s eyes opened and she was in her bedroom naked Ozzymandias was nowhere to be found. She turned to her clock at 1:45 am. She groaned in an annoyed way. Her sheets were wet, and she got up to clean them.