#everglow

It goes on like this all day. Every little thing sets her off. The lighting guy gets chewed out for a shadow that doesn't even exist. One of the backup dancers gets lectured about timing even though they're hitting every mark perfectly. And you? You're just collateral damage. Invisible until she needs someone to blame.

"Where's my water? I asked for water twenty minutes ago."

You scramble to grab a bottle from the cooler, nearly tripping over a cable in your rush. When you hand it to her, she takes it without looking at you. Doesn't say thanks. Just takes a sip and makes a face like it's personally offensive.

"This is warm."

"Sorry, I can get you—"

"Forget it."

She's already walking away again, leaving you standing there with your hands empty and your pride somewhere around your ankles. The other crew members give you sympathetic looks, but nobody says anything. When Mia's in a mood, you just survive it.

The concert itself is fine. Great, even. The crowd goes insane, the sound is perfect (despite what Mia said), and Everglow kills it on stage. You watch from the wings, making sure everything runs smooth, and for those couple hours you can almost forget about the way Mia treated you all day. On stage, she's electric. Confident and sexy and completely in control. It's easy to see why people worship her.

But the second the final song ends and the lights come up, reality crashes back. You've got breakdown duty, which means another few hours of hauling equipment and coiling cables while your back screams and your feet throb.

By the time the venue empties out, it's past midnight. The guests are long gone. Most of the crew has cleared out too, leaving just a skeleton team to finish the heavy lifting. You're exhausted, hungry, and desperately need to piss.

The crew bathrooms are on the lower level, but when you get there, there's yellow caution tape across the door and a handwritten sign: PIPE BURST. USE UPSTAIRS FACILITIES.

Great.

You stand there for a second, debating whether you can hold it until you get back to the hotel, but your bladder has other ideas. The upstairs facilities means the VIP area. The nice bathrooms with the marble counters and the fancy soap and the showers for artists who want to freshen up before meet and greets.

You're not supposed to use them. That's made pretty clear during orientation. But it's late, everyone's gone, and you really, really need to go.

You glance around. The hallway is empty. No voices, no footsteps. Just the hum of the building's ventilation and the distant sound of someone dragging equipment across the stage floor. You'll be quick. In and out. Nobody will even know.

The VIP bathroom is perfect. All white tile and chrome fixtures, actual hand towels instead of those shitty air dryers. There is one shower along one wall, a frosted glass door closed, and a row of toilet stalls on the other side. You pick the middle stall, lock the door behind you, and finally get some relief. You stay there for a few seconds at most. You're just finishing up, reaching for the flush, when you hear the main door open.

Footsteps. Confident. Not hesitant like someone who's not sure they should be here. You freeze, pants still halfway down, listening.

A bag hits the counter with a soft thud. Then there's the sound of a zipper, fabric rustling. Someone's getting undressed.

Your heart kicks up because you're not supposed to be here, and whoever just walked in is definitely supposed to be here, and if they find you—

The shower turns on. Water hitting tile, steam probably already starting to fog up the mirrors.

You should announce yourself. Cough or something. Make it clear you're here so it's not weird later. But the idea of revealing yourself, of admitting you're in the VIP bathroom when you're explicitly not supposed to be, requires more courage than you actually have. Besides, they probably won't even notice. You'll just wait until they're in the shower, slip out quietly, and nobody has to know.

You're pulling up your pants as silently as possible when you hear her voice.

"Fucking finally."

Your blood goes cold.

Mia.

You recognize her voice instantly. That same clipped tone she's been using all day, but softer now. Tired. She's talking to herself, muttering something you can't quite make out over the sound of the water. You should definitely say something now. But the thought of facing her after the way she treated you all day, of her knowing you were hiding in a toilet stall while she undressed…

You don't say anything.

The water gets louder as she steps into the shower. You hear the glass door slide shut, and then it's just the steady rush of water and the occasional soft sound of movement. She's right there. Maybe fifteen feet away. Naked and showering and completely unaware you're here.

Your breathing feels too loud. You try to shallow it out, pressing your back against the stall wall, but your heart is pounding so hard you're sure she can hear it. This is bad. This is so fucking bad. You need to leave, but what if she hears you? What if the stall door creaks? What if-

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will yourself into another dimension. Don't look, don't look, don't look. But your head is screaming. You have to know. Is it really her? Is this nightmare actually happening? There's a small gap where the partition wall meets the door hinge, a tiny imperfection. Against every survival instinct you possess, you find yourself leaning, just a fraction of an inch, pressing your eye to the cold metal.

It's her. Oh, god, it's her. You can see her through the steam and the frosted glass of the shower door. You see the unmistakable blue hair plastered dark and wet to her skin. You see the pale, graceful line of her back as she turns, her arm raising to rinse her hair. It’s too much. It’s too real. You recoil instantly, slamming your back against the stall wall, your breath catching in your throat. You’re so terrified, you try to gulp down a quiet breath, but it comes out as a strangled, half-choked gasp. It's just loud enough.

The water pressure changes. Then, it cuts off. The sudden, ringing silence of the bathroom is a thousand times worse than the noise. You hear the click-slide of the shower door opening.

“Who the fuck is in here?”

Her query is loud and absolutely not messing around. You’re pretty sure you’ve stopped breathing entirely. You hear the wet slap of bare feet on the tile. Closer. She’s right outside your stall. You see her shadow under the door. Then, her hand smacks the stall door, rattling it.

“I know someone’s in here. Open this fucking door. Now!”

Your hands are shaking so badly you can barely find the latch. It feels tiny and slippery. She kicks the door and the explosive noise of the metal makes you jump.

“OPEN IT! Or I’m calling security and telling them there’s a pervert in the women's room!”

“No! Wait!” you squeak, finally fumbling the latch open. The door swings wide. You’re standing there, hands half-raised. She’s standing right in front of you, wrapped in a single, fluffy white towel that she’s clutching at her chest.

"YOU!" She's pointing. “You’re that useless sound guy. The one who can’t even run a monitor mix.” She yanks the towel tighter, her knuckles white. “What the hell are you doing in here? Were you... were you watching me?”

“No! I mean, yes, I’m in here, but I wasn't... I didn't... The staff bathroom is flooded!” You’re stammering. “A pipe burst. I had to go. I didn’t know anyone was here! I thought everyone was on the bus! I swear, Mia-ssi! I heard you come in, and I just... I froze! I didn’t know what to do!”

“Bullshit.” She steps closer, forcing you to stumble backward until you’re pressed against the toilet. “You heard me come in. You stayed. You sat in that stall, quiet as a mouse, listening to me. You’re a pervert. A disgusting little creep, getting off on listening to me shower.”

“I’m not! I swear! I’m not like that! I was just scared! I’m so fired, I…”

“Oh, you’re so much worse than fired if I make one call.” She’s looking you up and down. A nasty, considering smirk starts to play on her lips. “Oh, really? Not a pervert? Prove it.”

“What? Prove what?”

“Prove you weren’t in here getting your rocks off.” She gestures down at your waist with her chin. “Take off your pants.”

Your brain just stops. It ceases all function. “...What?”

“You heard me. It’s a simple test. If you’re just a scared little employee, you’ve got nothing to hide. But if you’re a creep who was in here jerking off to the sound of my water... you’ll be hard. So drop your pants. Right now. Show me.”

“I… I can’t… That’s insane!”

“It’s insane that I found you hiding in the private bathroom!” she fires back, taking another step. “Do it. Or I start screaming. And trust me, my version of this story will be way more believable than yours.”

This isn't real. This can't be happening. But her expression is dead serious. She is holding your entire life, your entire career, in her hand, and she knows it. Your fingers feel like sausages, numb and useless, as they go to your belt buckle. This is the single most humiliating moment of your life. Slowly, agonizingly, you unbuckle your belt, unzip your jeans. You push them down, along with your boxers, letting them pool around your ankles. You’re standing in a toilet stall, half-naked, in front of a furious, towel-clad Mia.

She looks down. You’re completely, utterly, pathetically soft. The terror of the situation, the cold humiliation, and her powerful, angry presence… it’s all sent your dick into full retreat. It’s shriveled, small, and curled up against your body, trying to hide.

She stares for a second. Her eyes widen. And then she laughs. It’s not a cute giggle. It’s a barking sound of mockery.

“Oh my god. Are you kidding me?” She actually points. “That’s it? It’s like a frightened little turtle! It’s tiny! You’re so terrified of me, your own cock just… died.” She laughs again, harder, leaning against the stall partition for support. “Wow. Okay. Maybe you’re not a pervert. You’re just... pathetic. Truly, profoundly pathetic.”

The laughter stops as quickly as it started. Her expression turns to ice.

“Alright, here’s what’s going to happen, you pathetic little turtle.” She steps back. “You’re going to pull up your pants. You’re going to get out of my sight. And for the rest of this tour... you are mine. You fetch my water. You carry my bags. You get my coffee (exactly how I like it, and you'd better learn fast). You will be my personal servant. My slave. My slut. And if you say no, or if you fuck up once, or if you even look at another member of staff wrong... I’ll tell everyone I found you in here, pants around your ankles, trying to film me in the shower. I will destroy you. Do you understand me?”

You can't even speak. You just nod, you and yank your jeans up, fumbling with the zipper.

“Get out. And be outside the hotel at 8 AM sharp tomorrow. You’re in for a looong day as my slave.”

You don't even look back. You scramble out of the stall, out of the bathroom, and run down the concrete hallway, wanting to disappear completely from the face of the earth.

—

The next three days are surreal.

You're hyperaware of every interaction with her, even though you're supposed to be acting normal around the crew. But Mia makes it impossible to ignore what you are to her now. She finds ways to treat you like absolute garbage in public, subtle enough that nobody else notices or cares, harsh enough that you feel it like a knife to the gut every single time.

The first time is during a sound check in Denver. The group's running through their setlist, and you're monitoring the levels from your console. The mix is clean, tight, exactly what she approved the night before. But halfway through the second song, she stops and points directly at you.

"The monitors are shit today," she announces to the entire crew. "I can barely hear myself. What the hell are you doing back there? Are you actually paying attention or are you just fucking around?"

You know the monitors are perfect. You know this because you've tested them seventeen times and they're exactly where they need to be. But you also know that arguing with her in front of everyone would be a mistake. You also know that she's doing this deliberately, that she's enjoying the way everyone's eyes turn to you, waiting for your response.

"I'll check them right now," you say, keeping your voice level even though your stomach's churning. "What specifically are you hearing?"

"Less of everything," she snaps. "More of me, less of the drums. Is that simple enough for you to understand?"

You're already moving, already adjusting levels that don't need adjusting, just to appease her. You boost her vocal channel slightly, pull back the drums just a hair. It's a shit mix now, musically speaking, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that she gets to feel powerful, gets to feel like she's in control, and you get to feel small and ashamed and complicit.

The rehearsal continues and she doesn't complain again. But you catch her looking at you during one of the slower songs, and there's something almost playful in her expression. She's enjoying this. She's enjoying humiliating you.

By the second day, the tasks have started beyond the stage. She texts you during a crew lunch break, something you didn't even know was a possibility - how did she get your number? - with a list of demands. Pick up her dry cleaning. Get her a specific coffee drink from a specific place that's three blocks away from the venue. Book her a massage appointment because the tour stress is destroying her shoulders. Bring her dinner from that Thai place she mentioned once, three days ago.

You do all of it. Every single thing. You skip meals, you sprint across the city between sound checks, you pull strings with the venue staff to get her a massage slot in the equipment storage area that's been hastily cleared and set up with a massage chair someone found backstage.

And every time she receives what you've brought her, every time you successfully complete a task, she thanks you in that honeyed, mocking tone that makes it clear she knows exactly how pathetic you're being, how desperate you are to prove you're not a pervert, how utterly under her control you've become.

By the third day, you're caught in this twisted loop where fear and humiliation and attraction are all tangled together into something that barely makes sense anymore. You're doing things that six days ago you would never have imagined doing. You're degrading yourself constantly, but Mia is so beautiful that at least some of this torture becomes somewhat tolerable.

And then, on the afternoon before their second-to-last concert, she finds you in the technical booth during a break. Everyone else is out getting food or resting or whatever. It's just you and her, and she closes the door behind her, which immediately makes your entire body go rigid with tension.

"You've been doing a decent job," she says, leaning against the console. She's wearing tour merchandise - a black tank top with their logo on it - and her blue hair's tied back with a white band.

"Thank you," you respond carefully, because you still don't know exactly how to navigate these conversations with her.

"After the concert tomorrow," she continues, studying her fingernails like what she's about to say is casual conversation, "after everyone's cleared out and it's just us, I'm going to let you fuck me."

You literally stop breathing.

"You heard me," she says, glancing up at you with that same playful expression she's been wearing for days. "You've been a good little slave. You've earned it. Consider it a reward for following instructions without complaining. You get to finally use that pathetic little cock of yours, and I get to see if you can actually last longer than thirty seconds without cumming."

"Really?"

"Really." She pushes off from the console and walks toward the door. "But you have to get through one more show first. You have to be perfect tomorrow. The best sound you've ever done. Because if anything goes wrong, if I'm even slightly unhappy with the mix, the deal's off. And you'll spend the rest of the tour as my slave without ever getting to experience this. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," you breathe. "I understand completely."

"Good." She opens the door and pauses in the doorway. "Oh, and one more thing? Tomorrow's concert is our last one here before the final show in two weeks. So you better make it memorable. You better make it perfect. Because what happens after is going to change everything for you. You're going to finally find out what it feels like to have a real woman, and spoiler alert? You're probably going to love it. You're probably going to want more. But that's only if you earn it tomorrow."

She leaves, and you're left standing in the technical booth vibrating with happiness and terror in equal measure. Twenty-four hours. You have twenty-four hours to create the most perfect audio experience of your entire life, and at the end of it, you get to have sex with someone who's been systematically humiliating and controlling you for days.

You should probably recognize this as toxic and fucked up. Part of you does. But another part of you - the part that's terrified and lonely and desperate for validation - is already planning exactly how you're going to make tomorrow absolutely flawless.

—

As you promised yourself: the concert goes absolutely flawlessly. You don't know if it's desperation or pure adrenaline or the promise of what comes after, but you've never been more dialed in. Every transition is seamless, every cue lands perfectly, the levels are pristine. Mia's voice sounds like it's coming directly from the heavens, and when she looks over at you during the final song, there's this moment where her expression softens and you swear she nods at you - just barely, just enough that you know she felt it too, knows that you delivered exactly what she asked for.

The crowd loses their minds. The energy's electric. And then it's over, and the venue's clearing out, and your hands are shaking as you break down the final pieces of equipment.

Your phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number, you never dared to save her contact, but yeah, you know exactly who it is:

"Room 1847. Twenty minutes. Don't be late."

You take the fastest shower of your life in the crew facilities, change into clean clothes that you suddenly wish were nicer, you put on your best cologne and pray that she finds it at least somewhat pleasant, and doesn't notice the natural scent of desperation that's been emanating from you ever since this whole mess started. Your heart's absolutely hammering in your chest as you take the elevator up to the hotel's eighteenth floor.

When Mia opens the door, she's wearing a silk bathrobe - deep black with blue detailing, because of course it matches her hair - and her makeup's been washed off.

"Come in," she says simply, holding the door open.

The hotel room is exactly what you'd expect for someone at her level - huge windows overlooking the city, modern furniture, a minibar she's clearly been ignoring because there's a bottle of water on the nightstand instead. She walks over to the bed and sits on the edge, then gestures to the floor in front of her.

"Foot massage," she says. "My feet are absolutely destroyed from tonight. Tour stress is killing me."

You kneel in front of her, trying to ignore how surreal this all feels, how intimate it is to be kneeling at her feet in a hotel room at night with her wearing nothing but a bathrobe. She extends one foot toward you and you take it carefully, your hands trembling slightly as you start working your thumbs into the arch of her sole.

For a while, neither of you says anything. Just the sound of the city outside the windows, the occasional car horn and your own breathing. You're massaging her foot, trying desperately to act like this is a normal thing that happens between people, while your brain is screaming about how close you are to her, how the bathrobe's loose around her waist, how if you just looked up slightly you might be able to see...

You force yourself to focus on the massage. But a doubt lingers in your mind, and if now isn't the best time, then when will it be? You'll hardly ever see Mia this calm again.

“Why?” you ask suddenly.

You’m not even looking at her. You'm looking at your own hands, which are shaking slightly. She scoffs.

“Why what? Why are you a pathetic loser? I don’t know. Bad genetics.”

“No. Why are you... like this? You’re so… angry. You treat me, and the crew, and even your own members… you treat us like trash. I’m just… I’m just trying to understand.”

You finally look up. She’s staring at you. You expect her to yell, to throw something. Instead, she just sighs, a long, ragged breath that seems to drain all the fight out of her.

“Just rub my feet, slave. And shut up.”

You flinch at the word "slave," but you obey. You take her left foot in your hands. It’s small, with high arches, but the muscles are knotted with tension. You start to work your thumbs into her heel, gently at first, then with more pressure. She closes her eyes, and for a second, she almost looks peaceful. You work in silence for a few minutes, just the sound of the city traffic far below.

“This tour was hell,” she says suddenly, her eyes still closed. “This whole year was hell.”

You stay quiet, just keep massaging.

“After this... I’m done.” She opens her eyes, staring at the ceiling. “I’m leaving. I’m leaving Everglow.”

You look up at her, startled. "What?"

"The group. I'm leaving. We've been having differences, conflicts that aren't getting better, only worse. The label's pushing us in directions I don't want to go. And I just... I can't do it anymore. I need to do something that's mine, something I have control over."

You switch to her other foot, processing this information. Mia leaving Everglow is huge. It's industry-changing news. And she's telling you, someone she's been actively humiliating, like you're someone she trusts.

"That's a big decision," you say carefully.

"Yeah, well, it's the only sane one." She finally looks down at you. "But I have no idea what I'm doing. No idea how to launch a solo career, how to navigate the business side of things, who to trust. All I know is I want to do something more artistic, more personal. And honestly? I'm fucking terrified."

That's why she's been cruel, you realize suddenly. That's why she's been taking everything out on you and the crew. She's stressed and scared and uncertain, and she's been channeling all of that into control and humiliation because it's easier than admitting that she's vulnerable.

"I might be able to help," you say slowly.

"How?" She sounds skeptical, which is fair because you're literally just a sound tech.

"You know how I mentioned I'm working with someone after this tour?" You continue massaging her foot, your confidence building slightly. "Rosé, from Blackpink. We met during one of their tours and kind of became friends. She's actually pursuing a solo career too - left Blackpink, going independent. I just recently signed on to be part of her team, handling audio engineering and production stuff."

Mia sits up straighter, suddenly paying full attention. "Rosé is going solo for good?"

"Yeah, she's got this whole artistic vision, wants to do something more personal and experimental. She's been navigating the solo thing for a couple months now, and she's got connections, industry knowledge, all of it."

"And you think you could talk to her?" Mia's leaning forward now. "Like, could you introduce me? Maybe she could give me some advice, point me toward people who could actually help me build something?"

"I mean, yeah, I think so. We're pretty close. I could definitely reach out, set up a meeting or something."

She leans back, considering this. "So what do you want? For helping me with this."

"What do I want?" You repeat, not entirely sure where she's going with this.

"You wouldn't be offering to help unless there was something in it for you. That's how the world works. So what do you want?"

You should probably ask for something professional. Something reasonable. But instead, your mouth opens and the truth just falls out.

"Can you help me get closer to Rosé?"

Mia's expression shifts. She goes very still.

"I like her," you continue, because apparently you're committed to humiliating yourself tonight. "I think I'm maybe in love with her, I don't know. But I'm a mess around her, I get nervous and stupid and I can barely function. And I know that if I ever actually had a chance with her, I'd completely blow it because I'm a disaster."

Mia stares at you for a moment, and then she starts laughing. It's not the cruel mockery laugh from before - it's genuine, almost affectionate.

"Oh my God," she breathes, shaking her head. "You're actually in love with Rosé. That's so fucking cute. That's so pathetic and cute."

"Are you going to help me or not?" You ask, trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

"Maybe," she says, still smiling. "But here's the thing - if you want any shot with Rosé, you can't be a complete mess. You can't be useless in bed. You need experience. You need confidence. So here's what we're going to do: forget what I said about having rough sex with you tonight, let's change things up a bit. You connect me with Rosé, introduce us, help me get her contacts and advice and whatever else I need to launch this solo thing. And in exchange, I'm going to help you lose your virginity. I'm going to teach you how to actually fuck properly so that when you finally get your shot with her, you don't embarrass yourself."

"Really?"

"Really." She extends her foot back toward you for more massage. "But we're going to do this systematically. First, you set up the meeting with Rosé. You get me connected, you get her interested in helping me. That's step one, and that's non-negotiable. Once that's done, we move to step two, which is me teaching you how to actually be decent in bed. Are we clear?"

"Crystal clear," you manage.

"Good." She settles back into the pillows. "So we have a deal?"

"We have a deal," you confirm.

"You should probably know," Mia says after a while, "that I've been hard on you partly because I needed someone to take out my stress on, and partly because I wanted to see if you'd actually stay. If you'd stick around despite being treated like shit. Because honestly? I don't trust people who are nice to me right away. People who are nice usually want something specific. But people who'll stay even when you're cruel to them? Those are the people I can actually trust."

"I wasn't staying because I liked it," you finally say. "I was staying because I was terrified. You literally blackmailed me."

"I know," she says softly. "But you stayed anyway. That counts for something.”

"How do I know you're actually serious about this?" you ask, and you immediately wish you could take it back because challenging her seems like a terrible idea.

But Mia just smiles, and for some reason you feel that this is the worst reaction she could have. "You want proof?"

"I mean, yeah, kind of. You've been messing with me for days. How do I know this isn't just another way to humiliate me?"

She stands up from the bed, and for a second you think she's going to kick you out, tell you the deal's off because you dared to question her. Instead, she walks over to where you're still kneeling on the floor and extends her hand.

"Get up," she says. "Sit on the bed."

You do, your legs feeling weirdly unstable as you move to the edge of the mattress. Mia stands in front of you. She reaches for your belt buckle.

"Wait, what are you—"

"Proving I'm serious," she says simply, her fingers already working the buckle loose. "You want to know if this is real? If I'm actually going to follow through on teaching you how to fuck? Then let me show you."

You're frozen, watching as she unbuckles your belt, unbuttons your jeans, slides the zipper down with this confidence that makes it clear she's done this before, knows exactly what she's doing. You should probably say something, do something, but all you can manage is sitting there like a statue while she hooks her fingers into your waistband.

"Lift your hips," she instructs, and you do, almost automatically, letting her pull your jeans and boxers down to mid-thigh.

Your cock springs free, and you're already semi-hard just from the anticipation, from having her this close, from the insanity of what's happening. She looks down at it, and you brace yourself for another round of mockery about its size or how pathetic you are.

But she doesn't mock you. Instead, she wraps her hand around your shaft, and the sensation is so sudden and intense that you actually gasp.

"There we go," she murmurs, and her hand starts moving, slow strokes from base to tip that make your entire body tense up. "See? I'm very serious."

Her palm is soft and warm, her grip firm but not painful, and she's using just enough pressure that every stroke sends these little shocks through your body. You're getting harder in her hand, blood rushing south so fast you feel dizzy with it.

"This is insane," you manage to say.

"Yeah, it is." She adjusts her grip slightly, twisting her wrist on the upstroke. "But that's kind of the point. You need to learn what it feels like to have someone touching you like this. You need to get comfortable with it so you're not a complete disaster when it actually matters."

You're staring down at her hand wrapped around your cock, watching it move, watching yourself get fully hard under her touch. It's surreal. It's the hottest thing that's ever happened to you. Your hips are starting to move involuntarily, little thrusts into her grip that you can't control.

"Easy," she says, her free hand pressing against your hip to still you. "Don't rush it. Just feel it. Get used to the sensation."

"It's a lot," you admit, your breathing already getting ragged.

"Yeah, well, this is just an appetizer." She picks up the pace slightly, her strokes getting faster, more deliberate. "The actual fucking is going to be way more intense than this. So if you can't handle a simple handjob without completely losing your mind, we've got a lot of work to do."

Her thumb swipes over your tip on the next upstroke, spreading the precum that's already leaking, and you make this embarrassing whimpering sound that you immediately wish you could take back.

Mia laughs, but it's not mean. "You're so sensitive. When's the last time anyone touched you like this?"

"Never," you gasp. "Nobody's ever—this is the first time—"

"Seriously?" She sounds genuinely surprised. "You've never even gotten a handjob before?"

"No, I told you, I'm a virgin, I've never done anything with anyone—"

"Okay, then we're definitely starting from scratch." She adjusts her position, kneeling between your legs now so she has better leverage, and her other hand comes up to cup your balls, rolling them gently in her palm while her first hand keeps working your shaft. "This is what it feels like when someone knows what they're doing. Pay attention. Notice how I'm changing the pressure, the speed, how I'm using both hands to give you different sensations."

You're trying to pay attention, you really are, but it's so hard to focus on anything except the overwhelming pleasure that's building in your core. Her hands are magic. Her touch is deliberate and skilled and absolutely devastating, and you can feel yourself getting closer to some kind of edge that you've never experienced alone.

"Look at me," she says, and you drag your eyes up from where her hands are working you to meet her gaze. Her expression is intense, focused, and there's something almost possessive in the way she's watching your face. "This is real. The deal is real. I'm going to teach you everything you need to know so you can actually have a shot with Rosé. But first, you need to get me connected with her. You need to make that introduction happen. Can you do that?"

"Yes," you breathe, and it comes out desperate and pleading. "Yes, I can do that, I promise, I'll set it up tomorrow, I'll message her—"

"Good boy." The praise makes something warm bloom in your chest even as her hands keep moving, keep driving you higher. "And in return, I'm going to make sure you actually know what you're doing. I'm going to teach you how to touch someone, how to read their body, how to make them feel good. Starting with letting you experience what it's like when someone does it right."

Her grip tightens slightly, her pace increasing, and you're starting to shake now, your thighs trembling, your hands gripping the comforter beneath hard.

"Mia..."

"Feel good?" She's smirking now, clearly enjoying the power she has over you, the way she's reducing you to a trembling mess with just her hands.

"So good," you admit, because there's no point in pretending otherwise. "This is—I can't—"

"You're doing fine." Her thumb does that thing again where it swipes over your tip, and you nearly come undone right there. "Just breathe. Let yourself feel it. There's no rush."

But it feels like there is a rush, like your body's racing toward something inevitable and overwhelming, and you're not sure you can hold back much longer. Everything's building, tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core, and her hands just keep working you, relentless and skilled and absolutely perfect.

"This is just the beginning," she says, almost conversational despite what she's doing to you. "Just a little taste of what's coming once you hold up your end of the deal. So you better make that introduction happen fast, because I have a lot more to teach you."

You nod frantically, unable to form words anymore, just completely lost in the sensation of her touch, in the wet sound of her hands working your cock, in the way she's completely controlling your pleasure like it's the easiest thing in the world.

"You're going to remember this," she says softly, almost like she's making a promise. "Every time you see me from now on, you're going to remember what my hands feel like on you. And you're going to want more. That's how this works."

She's right. You know she's right. This is going to be burned into your memory forever, this moment where she proved the deal was real, where she touched you like this and made you feel things you've never felt before. Your entire body's on fire, every nerve ending screaming, and you can feel it building to that point of no return. Your breathing's coming in these short, desperate gasps, and your hips are trying to thrust up into her grip even though she told you to stay still.

But then something shifts. Maybe it's the panic itself, maybe it's the sudden awareness that this is actually happening with Mia, that she's really here doing this to you, but your cock starts to soften in her hand. Not completely, but enough that it's noticeable, enough that you can feel yourself going from rock hard to just semi-hard.

Her hands slow, then stop completely.

"Are you serious right now?" She's staring down at your dick with this expression of disbelief with amusement. "You were about to cum and now you're getting soft? What the hell?"

"I'm sorry," you stammer, feeling your face burn with humiliation. "I just—you make me nervous, and I started thinking about it, and—"

"Oh my God." She sits back on her heels, still kneeling between your legs. "You're intimidated by me even while I'm literally jerking you off. That's actually impressive in the worst possible way."

"I can't help it," you protest weakly. "This is all new to me, and you're—you're Mia, and—"

"And I need to do something about this." She's clearly making a decision. "If you can't stay hard with just my hands, then we need to give you something more to work with."

Before you can ask what she means, her fingers move to the tie on her bathrobe. She pulls it loose slowly, deliberately, letting the silk fall open to reveal what's underneath.

She's completely naked beneath it.

Your brain stops functioning. She's right there, her body on full display - small breasts with dark nipples, smooth skin, the curves of her waist and hips - but what stops your heart completely is what's between her legs.

Her pussy.

And the hair.

It's blue. The same shade as the hair on her head, maybe slightly darker, trimmed neatly but not shaved, the hair forming this neat triangle that frames her lips. You can see everything - the shape of her, the color, the slight dampness that suggests maybe she's been getting turned on too.

"Holy shit," you breathe.

"Yeah yeah, I dye it to match." She sounds almost proud. "Figured if I'm committing to the blue hair aesthetic, might as well go all in."

You can't stop staring. The contrast between her skin and that blue hair, the way it's trimmed just enough to be neat but still clearly present, the glimpse of pink between the blue where her lips part slightly.

Your cock twitches, already responding, already starting to harden again just from looking at her.

"That's better," she murmurs, noticing. "But let's make sure you stay interested."

She shifts her position, moving to straddle one of your thighs, and then she's pressing herself against your leg, her pussy making direct contact with your skin. You can feel the heat of her, the slight wetness, the soft texture of that blue hair against you.

"Oh fuck," you gasp, because this is so far beyond anything you imagined when you woke up this morning.

"That turn you on?" She starts moving, grinding herself against your thigh in slow, deliberate circles. "Feeling my pussy on you? Seeing what I look like down there?"

"Yes," you practically whimper. "God, yes, that's—"

Your cock's fully hard again now, standing straight up, precum leaking from the tip. The sensation of her grinding against your leg is overwhelming. You can feel everything - the warmth, the wetness, the pressure, the way that blue hair creates this incredible texture against your skin.

"Much better." She reaches down and wraps her hand around your shaft again, giving it a few slow strokes while she continues grinding on your thigh. "See what happens when you have something good to focus on? Your body knows what it wants. You just need the right stimulation."

She's right. With her pussy rubbing against your leg, with that blue hair visible every time you look down, your brain has something concrete to latch onto instead of spiraling into anxiety. The intimidation is still there, but it's blending with overwhelming arousal now.

"I want you to remember this," she says, her hips moving in those slow circles. "Remember what my pussy feels like against your skin. Remember that blue hair. Because next time, you're going to get to touch it. Taste it. But right now, I'm just showing you what you're working toward."

She grinds harder against your thigh, and you can feel her getting wetter, can feel the slickness spreading across your skin. Your hands are gripping the comforter so hard you think you might rip it.

"Please," you hear yourself say, though you're not even sure what you're begging for.

"Please what?" She's teasing now, her hand still working your cock while her pussy keeps moving against your leg.

"I don't know, I just—more, something, anything—"

Mia laughs, it’s low and sultry. "You're so desperate. It's actually kind of cute."

Then she shifts again, sliding off your thigh, positioning herself fully between your legs. Your cock's pointing straight up at her face now, hard and leaking, and she's looking at it with this considering expression.

"You know what?" she says, and there's something wicked in her smile. "I think you've earned a little more than just a handjob."

Before you can process what she means, she leans down and takes you into her mouth.

The sensation is immediate and absolutely devastating. Her mouth is wet and hot and perfect, her tongue sliding along the underside of your shaft as she takes you deeper. You make this strangled, desperate sound that would be embarrassing if you had any brain cells left to care about embarrassment.

Her lips seal around you, creating this incredible suction, and she starts moving - slow at first, just taking you in and pulling back, letting you feel every inch of her mouth. Her tongue does things you didn't know were possible, swirling around your tip, pressing against that sensitive spot just below the head, tracing patterns that make your entire body shake.

"Oh my God," you gasp, your hands moving without conscious thought to tangle in her blue hair. "Mia, that's… fuck—"

She makes a pleased humming sound around your cock, and the vibration of it nearly destroys you. Her hand comes up to grip your base, stroking what her mouth can't reach, working in tandem with the movement of her head. She's taking you deeper now, her throat relaxing to accommodate your length, and you can feel yourself hitting the back of her mouth.

The wet sounds fill the hotel room - the slurping, the slight gagging when she takes you particularly deep, your own desperate breathing. You're watching her head bob up and down, watching your cock disappear into her mouth and reappear slick with her saliva, and yet it seems like a dream, a delusion, but what Mia is making you feel is very, very real.

She pulls off for a moment, a string of saliva connecting her lips to your tip, and looks up at you with those dark eyes. "You taste good. Better than I expected, honestly."

"Thank you?" It comes out as a question because you have no idea how to respond to that.

She grins, then takes you back in, this time going even deeper. Her throat constricts around you, and you feel yourself hit the back of her throat, feel her gag slightly but not pull away. She's looking up at you the whole time, maintaining eye contact while she deepthroats you, and something about that visual - her eyes locked on yours while her mouth is full of your cock - makes everything feel even more intense.

Her free hand moves to massage your balls, rolling them gently while her mouth works your shaft with increasing enthusiasm. She's picking up the pace now, taking you faster, deeper, her tongue doing things that should probably be illegal in at least three countries.

You're completely lost in it, in the sensation of her mouth, in the visual of her blue hair spread across your thighs, in the knowledge that this is real, this is actually happening, this is Mia giving you head in a hotel room after days of humiliation and cruelty.

"I can't believe this is happening," you manage to say between gasps.

She pulls off again, stroking you with her hand while she catches her breath. "Better get used to it," she says, her lips swollen and slick. "Because this is just the appetizer, remember? Wait until we actually get to the main course."

Then she's back on you, taking you into her throat again, and you're pretty sure you're not going to survive this. Your thighs are shaking, your whole body's tense, and every nerve ending is focused on the point where her mouth meets your cock.

She's making these soft, wet sounds as she works you, and occasionally she'll look up at you with this expression that's equal parts dominant and playful, like she's enjoying watching you fall apart under her touch. Her hand keeps stroking your base, her mouth keeps taking you deep, and you're rapidly approaching that edge again, that point where you won't be able to hold back no matter how hard you try.

Her pace picks up, mouth sliding faster along your shaft, taking you deeper with each pass. She's using everything now - her lips, her tongue, her throat, her hand at your base - working in perfect coordination to drive you absolutely insane. The suction is incredible, wet and tight, and every time she takes you into her throat you feel this incredible pressure that makes your vision blur.

"Mia, I'm close," you gasp, your fingers tightening in her blue hair. "I'm really close, I can't—"

She doesn't pull away. Instead she doubles down, taking you even deeper, her throat constricting around you as she swallows, and that's it. That's the thing that pushes you over the edge. You can feel it building, that unstoppable wave of pleasure rising from somewhere deep in your core.

"I'm gonna—" you try to warn her again, but she already knows.

She pulls off your cock at the last possible second, her hand coming up to cup just below your tip, palm open, and then you're cumming. Hard. Your whole body seizes up as the orgasm crashes through you, and you watch through hazy eyes as thick ropes of cum shoot out and land directly in her waiting palm. She's holding her hand steady, catching everything, and you keep cumming, more than you've ever produced in your life, filling her palm with this obscene puddle of white.

The pleasure is overwhelming. Your hips jerk involuntarily with each pulse, and she keeps her hand positioned perfectly, not spilling a drop. When you're finally done, when the last weak spurt dribbles out, you collapse back against the bed, your chest heaving, your entire body feeling like it's been wrung out and left to dry.

"Good job.” She's looking at her palm, at the pool of cum sitting there, like she's examining her handiwork. "That was a lot. You must have been really backed up."

"That was—" You're struggling to form coherent sentences. "I've never... that was the most intense thing I've ever felt in my entire life."

"Yeah, I could tell." She's still kneeling between your legs, her bathrobe hanging open, that blue hair between her legs still visible and driving you crazy even in your post-orgasm haze. "You were shaking like crazy. Thought you might actually pass out for a second there."

"I think I almost did," you admit, your breathing still ragged. "Holy shit. Is it always like that?"

"When someone knows what they're doing? Yeah, pretty much. But this is just the beginning, remember? This was just proving the deal is real. Wait until we actually get to the proper fucking. That's going to blow your mind even more."

Before you can respond, she takes her cum-filled palm and wipes it directly across the front of your jeans. The fabric darkens immediately where your cum soaks in, and you watch in stunned silence as she casually cleans her hand on your pants without even having the decency to ask your permission.

"Mia, what the hell—"

"What? You were going to wash them anyway." She stands up, retying her bathrobe, suddenly all business again. "Besides, now you'll have a reminder of tonight every time you look at those pants. You're welcome."

You're still lying there, cock out, jeans around your thighs, trying to process what just happened. She moves to the hotel room door and opens it, clearly dismissing you.

"You should get going," she says. "And let me know as soon as you talk to Rosé. The sooner you make that introduction happen, the sooner we can move to the next phase of our agreement. I'm returning to Korea tomorrow, but I'll be back here as soon as I can. Until then, you have time to work your magic.”

You pull yourself together, tucking yourself back into your boxers and pulling your jeans up. The damp spot from your cum feels cold and uncomfortable against your leg, and yeah, she's absolutely right that you're going to think about this every time you see it.

"You're amazing," you say as you reach the door. "Like, genuinely. That was… you're incredible."

For a moment, her expression softens. Then she leans in and gives you a quick kiss - just a peck, really, barely more than a brush of lips, but it still sends electricity through your entire body.

"I know," she says with a smirk. "Now go. And don't forget to text me."

She closes the door behind you, and you're left standing in the hotel hallway at midnight, your jeans stained with your own cum, your lips still tingling from that brief kiss, your mind completely blown by what just happened.

—

Three days pass. Three days where you obsess over every detail of that night, where you replay it in your mind constantly. Three days where you build up the courage to actually call Rosé and make this introduction happen. Three days where the anxiety about talking to her wars with the anticipation of what comes next with Mia.

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, you pull out your phone and dial Rosé's number. Your hands are shaking. Your mouth is dry. This is ridiculous - you've talked to Rosé dozens of times. You're friends. You're going to be working together. But the knowledge that you're in love with her makes every interaction feel—

She picks up after the phone rings twice.

"Hey!" Her voice, as always, is bright, cheerful, exactly what you needed to hear. "What's up? How have you been?"

"Hey, Rosé. I'm good, yeah. Just finished up with the Everglow tour. How about you? How's the solo prep going?"

"Oh my God, it's been absolutely insane." You can hear her moving around, probably pacing. She always paces when she talks on the phone. "I'm working with this amazing producer on some tracks, and we're figuring out the visual concepts, and there's just so much to do. But it's good crazy, you know? Like, finally doing exactly what I want to do."

"That's amazing. I'm really happy for you." And you are, genuinely. Even through your nervousness and your crush, you want her to succeed. "Actually, that's kind of why I'm calling. I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Sure, what's up?"

You take a breath. "So I was working with Everglow, right? And I got to know Mia pretty well. She's actually leaving the group. She's starting a solo career too."

There's a pause on the other end. "Wait, Mia's leaving Everglow? That's huge. I had no idea."

"Yeah, it's not public yet. But she's really serious about going solo, and she wants to do something more artistic and personal. Kind of similar to what you're doing, actually."

"That's so cool." Rosé sounds genuinely interested. "How did you end up talking to her about all this? I'm impressed - you really do have a way of connecting with people."

Your face heats up at the compliment, even though she can't see you. "I guess we just got to talking during the tour. She's pretty cool once you get past the stage persona. But anyway, she's feeling kind of lost about how to navigate the solo thing. The business side, the creative side, all of it. And I thought maybe, since you're going through the same transition, maybe you could give her some advice? Point her toward people who could help?"

"Oh absolutely." Rosé doesn't even hesitate. "I actually really like Mia. I think she's incredibly talented, and if she's going the artistic route, that's even better. There's definitely some people I can connect her with. My manager has contacts at a few independent labels that might be perfect for what she's trying to do."

Relief floods through you. "Really? That would be amazing. She'd really appreciate it."

"Of course! It's actually kind of exciting - there's going to be this whole wave of us doing solo work, supporting each other instead of competing. That's how it should be." You can hear the smile in her voice. "Give me her contact info and I'll reach out to her directly. We can maybe set up a meeting or something."

"You're the best, Rosé. Seriously. Thank you so much."

"No problem at all. This is what we do, right? Help each other out." She pauses. "Hey, are you still coming to that planning meeting next month? For the tour prep?"

"Yeah, definitely. I wouldn't miss it."

"Good. We can catch up more then. I have so much to tell you about the creative direction we're going with. You're going to love it."

"I can't wait.”

After you hang up, you sit there for a moment, processing. That went way better than expected. Rosé was enthusiastic, supportive, didn't think it was weird that you were advocating for Mia. Your heart's still racing a bit, but that's just from talking to her. That's just the baseline anxiety that comes with being in love with someone.

You wait a few hours before calling Mia, partly because you want to give Rosé time to reach out, partly because you're enjoying the anticipation. When you finally dial her number, she picks up on the first ring.

"Did you talk to her?" Mia sounds breathless, eager. "Did you talk to Rosé?"

"Yeah, I just got off the phone with her a few hours ago."

"And?"

"And she's totally on board. She thinks it's great that you're going solo, and she wants to help. She said she has management contacts and label connections that might be perfect for what you're trying to do. She's going to reach out to you directly."

There's a moment of silence, and then Mia actually squeals. It's the most un-Mia-like sound you've ever heard from her.

"Oh my God, you’re right! She already texted me!" Mia's talking fast now, excited and almost manic. "I’m seeing the message right now; she must’ve sent it right after you talked to her. She said she wants to set up a video call this weekend to talk about everything. This is actually happening. Holy shit, this is actually happening."

"I'm glad I could help. Rosé's really great about supporting other artists. She was genuinely excited about the idea."

"You have no idea how much this means to me." Then Mia's voice gets quieter, more serious. "I've been completely freaking out about going solo, about doing this on my own, and now I have someone who's actually been through it, someone who knows what they're doing, willing to help me. This changes everything."

"I'm happy for you, really.”

"Thank you." She's quiet for a moment. "Seriously. Thank you. You held up your end of the deal, and I'm going to hold up mine. Once this meeting with Rosé happens, once I have a clearer picture of what I'm doing, we're going to move to the next phase. The one where I teach you how to actually fuck properly."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But we're going to do it right. I need to focus on this Rosé meeting first, get my head straight about the solo career stuff. But after that? After that, we're going to have a lot of fun together. And who knows? Maybe once you're not such a disaster in bed, I can help you get closer to Rosé like I promised. Kill two birds with one stone."

"That's the plan," you say, trying to keep your voice steady even though you're already imagining what comes next.

"Good. I'll text you after the meeting with Rosé. And hey?" She pauses. "Those moans you made last time, when you were trying not to cum? Do that again next time. I liked watching you struggle."

She hangs up before you can respond, and you're left sitting there with your phone pressed to your ear, your face burning, your mind already racing ahead to what she has planned for you. The deal is real. It's actually happening. And somehow you might actually end up with everything you wanted - experience with Mia, and eventually, maybe, a shot with Rosé.

You just have to survive whatever Mia has in store for you first.

—

Three weeks crawl by at an agonizing pace. You check your phone constantly, waiting for Mia's message, wondering if maybe she's changed her mind about the deal, if maybe the whole thing was just some elaborate mind game. But then, on a Tuesday afternoon while you're in the middle of organizing equipment for Rosé's upcoming tour rehearsals, your phone buzzes. It's Mia, and she's sending you an address.

"Tonight. 8pm. Don't be late."

Yeah. This is it. This is actually happening.

You show up at 7:55pm, standing outside a modern apartment building in a nice part of the city. The kind of place that has a doorman and marble floors in the lobby. You text her that you're here, and she responds immediately with "Come up."

The elevator ride to the fourth floor feels like it takes forever. Your palms are sweating. You're wearing clean clothes, showered twice, brushed your teeth so many times your gums hurt. You have no idea what to expect, no idea if you're actually ready for this.

Mia opens the door before you can knock, like she was waiting right there. She's wearing casual clothes - black leggings and an oversized sweater - and her blue hair's down around her shoulders. She looks relaxed, happy even, which is so different from how she was during the tour.

"Come in," she says, stepping aside. "You're right on time. I like that."

The apartment is clearly a rental; probably something she got temporarily while figuring out her next move. It's furnished but impersonal, the kind of place that could belong to anyone. There's a couch, a small kitchen area, and a doorway that presumably leads to the bedroom.

"So," she says, gesturing for you to sit on the couch. "I had my call with Rosé. Actually, we've had like five calls at this point. She's amazing. Like, genuinely incredible."

You sit, trying to calm your racing heart. "Yeah? How did it go?"

"Better than I could have imagined." Mia's practically glowing. "She introduced me to her manager, who introduced me to this independent label that's perfect for what I want to do. They're all about artistic freedom, letting artists have complete creative control. And they have distribution deals that mean I won't have to sacrifice reach for independence."

"That's amazing, Mia. I'm really happy for you."

"And she gave me so much advice about the transition, about managing the backlash from leaving a group, about building a solo brand." She's talking fast, excited. "She's been through it all, and she just laid it all out for me. I have a roadmap now. I know exactly what I need to do."

You can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "I told you she'd be helpful."

"You were right." She sits down next to you on the couch. "But here's the thing that you're really going to care about. We talked about you."

Your attention sharpens immediately. "What?"

"Yeah. She asked how we knew each other, and I told her we worked together on the Everglow tour. And then she started asking questions about you - what you were like to work with, if you were reliable, if you were good at your job." Mia's watching your face carefully, clearly enjoying your reaction. "And I talked you up. Big time. Told her you were amazing, professional, easy to work with, really talented at what you do."

"You did?"

"I exaggerated a little, obviously. Made you sound even better than you are. That was part of our deal, remember? I help you get closer to Rosé." She leans back against the couch cushions. "And I think it worked. She spoke really highly of you too. Kept saying how glad she is that you're going to be on her tour team, how much she trusts you, how she's always felt comfortable around you."

Your chest feels tight. "She said that?"

"Yeah. And between you and me?" Mia lowers her voice. "I think she might actually like you. Like, not just as a colleague. There was something in the way she talked about you, this warmth. You might genuinely have a shot with her."

You're not sure if you believe her, but God, you want to. "Really?"

"Really. But here's the problem." She shifts to face you fully. "Right now, you're a virgin who gets nervous around attractive women and has trouble staying hard when you're anxious. If you actually get your chance with Rosé, you're going to blow it completely unless we fix that first."

"Right," you breathe. "That's why we're here."

"Exactly. Tonight, we're going to work on your virginity problem. Get you some actual experience so you're not a complete disaster when it matters." She stands up, walks over to a dresser against the wall. "Open the top drawer."

You get up, your legs feeling weirdly unstable, and pull open the drawer. Inside, sitting on top of some folded clothes, is a single condom. The sight of it makes everything suddenly, intensely real.

"Take it," Mia says. "We're going to need that."

You pick up the condom, your hands shaking slightly, and turn to look at her.

"Now take off your clothes," she says, and now she's sounding quite bossy, the old Mia you quickly became familiar with. "All of them. I want to see what I'm working with."

Your fingers move to your shirt, fumbling with the buttons. This is happening. This is actually happening. You've imagined this moment so many times over the past few weeks, but now that it's here, you're terrified and excited in equal measure. You get your shirt off, drape it over the back of a chair. Your hands move to your belt, and you force yourself to not think too hard about what you're doing, just mechanically remove your clothes piece by piece. Sneakers. Pants. Until you're standing there in just your boxers, your cock already starting to respond to the situation even though you're nervous as hell.

"Those too," she says, nodding at your boxers.

You slide them down, step out of them, and now you're completely naked in front of her. Your cock's half-hard, not fully erect yet because your anxiety's still fighting with your arousal, but getting there.

Mia's looking at you with this appraising expression, like she's studying you. "Not bad," she says finally. "I mean, you're not going to win any awards, but you're decent. And your cock's a good size when it's actually hard."

"Thanks, I think?"

She laughs, and then her hands move to the hem of her sweater. "My turn."

She pulls the sweater over her head in one smooth motion, and underneath she's wearing a simple black bra. Her skin's pale and smooth, and you can see the curves of her breasts pushing against the fabric. Your cock twitches, getting harder.

"See? Already responding." She reaches behind her back, unclasps the bra, lets it fall to the floor. Her breasts are small and perfect, her nipples dark and already slightly hard from the cool air or maybe from arousal. "Keep watching."

Her hands move to her leggings, and she slides them down her hips slowly, deliberately, revealing more and more skin. Black underwear underneath, plain and practical but somehow incredibly sexy on her. And then those come off too, and she's standing there completely naked, and your eyes go immediately to the blue hair between her legs.

It's just as incredible as you remember from that night in the hotel room. That vibrant blue color, trimmed neat and short, framing her pussy in a way that's both natural and deliberately styled. You can see the shape of her, the slight part of her lips, and your cock goes fully hard in response, standing straight up, already leaking precum.

"There we go," she says, noticing. "That's what I wanted to see. You get hard for me when you're focused on what you're getting, not on being nervous."

"It's hard not to stare," you admit. "That blue hair is..."

"Hot as fuck?" She grins. "Yeah, I know. I get that reaction a lot. Well, from the people who actually get to see it." She walks over to you, close enough that you can feel the heat of her body. "Tonight, you're going to get to do more than just look. You're going to get to touch it, taste it, fuck it. But first, we're going to take this slow. I'm going to teach you exactly how to make a woman feel good, and you're going to pay attention to every single thing I tell you. Understand?"

"Yes," you breathe. "I understand completely.”

Mia walks to the bed and lies down, her body stretching out across the mattress. She spreads her legs, knees bent, feet planted on the sheets, and the view is absolutely perfect. You can see everything - her pussy framed by that blue hair, her lips already glistening slightly with arousal, the pink flesh between them.

"What are you doing just standing there?" Her voice cuts through your paralysis. "Get over here and eat my pussy."

Your feet move automatically, carrying you to the bed even though your brain isn't necessarily processing the present moment. You've thought about this moment, fantasized about it, but now that it's actually happening you have no idea what to do. You position yourself between her legs, kneeling on the mattress.

"I've never done this before. I don't know what I'm doing."

"I know. That's why I'm going to tell you exactly what to do." She props herself up on her elbows so she can watch you. "First, just start with your tongue. Flat, broad strokes up and down. Get a feel for me. Don't try to do anything fancy yet."

You lean in, your hands trembling as they settle on her thighs. The blue hair tickles your face as you get close, and then your tongue makes contact with her pussy for the first time.

The taste explodes across your senses. It's not what you expected - nothing like any description you've ever read or heard. It's tangy and slightly salty and sweet all at once, complex and intense and completely unique. Your brain struggles to process it, struggles to categorize it as good or bad, and then decides it doesn't matter because you're here, you're actually doing this, and Mia's letting you.

You drag your tongue up her slit, slow and clumsy, trying to follow her instructions. The texture is incredible - soft and wet and warm, her flesh yielding under your tongue. You can feel the slight roughness of that trimmed blue hair against your nose and cheeks, creating this amazing sensory contrast.

"Good," Mia says above you. "Just like that. Again. Get used to the taste, the feel of me."

You repeat the motion, another long lick from bottom to top, and this time you notice more details. The way her lips part slightly under the pressure of your tongue. The way she's getting wetter with each pass. The little sounds she's starting to make, soft breaths that might be the beginning of pleasure.

"Now focus on my clit," she instructs. "It's at the top, that little bump. Use the tip of your tongue, not the flat part. Small circles."

You search with your tongue, exploring upward until you find what must be her clit. It's more pronounced than you expected, a small bundle of nerves that makes her hips jerk slightly when you first touch it.

"Found it," you murmur against her.

"Then use it. Circles. Gentle at first."

You start circling her clit with the tip of your tongue, and immediately you can tell this is different. Her breathing changes, gets deeper. Her thighs tense slightly under your hands. You're doing something right, even if you're not entirely sure what.

"Faster," she says. "More pressure."

You increase the speed and press harder, and she makes this low sound in her throat that goes straight to your cock. You're so hard it's almost painful, your dick pressing against the mattress beneath you, but you force yourself to focus on what you're doing, on making her feel good.

"Now add your fingers," she instructs. "Just one at first. Slide it inside me while you keep licking my clit."

You bring your right hand up from her thigh, your index finger finding her entrance. She's so wet that your finger slides in easily, and the sensation of being inside her, feeling her inner walls grip your finger, is absolutely mind-blowing.

"Curl it up. There's a spot, kind of textured, on the front wall. Find it."

You explore with your finger, curling it like she said, searching. It takes a moment, but then you feel it - a slightly rougher patch of tissue that makes her gasp when you press against it.

"There," she gasps. "Right there. Now move your finger in and out while you press on that spot, and keep working my clit with your tongue."

You try to coordinate everything - your tongue circling her clit, your finger pumping in and out while pressing upward, and it's awkward at first. You lose the rhythm, your tongue moves wrong, your finger slips. But Mia keeps coaching you, keeps telling you what to adjust, and slowly you start to get it.

"Faster with your finger," she says. "And alternate the pressure on my clit. Light, then hard, then light again."

You follow her instructions, and her hips start moving slightly, rolling up to meet your mouth and finger. The taste of her is getting stronger, more intense, and you realize she's getting more aroused, producing more wetness that's coating your lips and chin.

"Add another finger," she commands. "Stretch me open."

You slide your middle finger in alongside your index, and she's so tight that you have to work them in gradually. Once they're both inside, you continue that same motion - curling up to hit that spot while pumping in and out - and her reaction is immediate.

"Fuck," she breathes. "Yeah, like that. Keep doing exactly that."

Your jaw is starting to ache from the constant motion, and your tongue feels tired, but you push through it because she's responding now. Really responding. Her thighs are trembling against your shoulders. Her breathing's coming in short gasps. The hand that's not propping her up moves to your hair, fingers tangling in it, guiding your head.

"Suck on my clit," she says suddenly. "Put your lips around it and suck while you keep fingering me."

You adjust, sealing your lips around that sensitive bundle of nerves and creating suction. The effect is immediate and dramatic. Her whole body tenses, her back arching off the bed, and she makes this desperate, needy sound that you've never heard from her before.

"Holy shit," she gasps. "Don't stop. Whatever you're doing, don't fucking stop."

So you don't. You keep your lips sealed around her clit, alternating between sucking and flicking it with your tongue, while your fingers work inside her with increasing confidence. You can feel her getting wetter, feel her walls starting to pulse around your fingers, and you know instinctively that she's getting close to something.

"Harder," she pants. "Finger me harder. And don't stop sucking."

You increase the force, pumping your fingers faster and deeper, curling them hard against that spot inside her while your mouth works her clit relentlessly. Her hand tightens in your hair, almost painful, and her hips are bucking now, grinding against your face.

"So close," she whimpers. "Keep going, keep going, almost there—"

Her thighs clamp around your head suddenly, her whole body going rigid, and then she's crying out, her pussy clenching rhythmically around your fingers as she comes. You keep working her through it, gentling your movements as her orgasm crests and then gradually subsides.

When she finally relaxes, her legs falling open again, you pull back and look up at her. Your face is absolutely covered in her wetness, your chin dripping, and the sight of you must be something because she starts laughing breathlessly.

"Holy fuck," she says, her chest heaving. "For your first time eating pussy, that was actually pretty decent. You're a quick learner when you're motivated."

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, tasting her on your lips. "Was that okay? Did I do it right?"

"Better than okay. You actually made me cum, which is more than a lot of guys with way more experience have managed." She sits up, reaches down to run her fingers through your hair. "And you followed instructions perfectly. That's going to be important for what comes next.”

"What comes next?" you ask, still kneeling between her legs, your face wet with her arousal.

Mia rolls her eyes, but she is smiling. "Are you serious right now? We're both naked, you just made me cum, and you're asking what comes next? You're going to fuck me. Obviously. Put on the condom," she says, gesturing to where you dropped it on the bed earlier.

You pick up the small foil packet with trembling fingers. You've seen this done in movies, in porn, but you've never actually done it yourself. The packet is harder to open than you expected, and you fumble with it for a few seconds before finally tearing it open.

The condom itself is slippery and confusing. You try to figure out which way it rolls, placing it against the tip of your cock and attempting to roll it down, but it won't go. You flip it over, try again, and this time it starts to roll but you're doing it wrong somehow, creating wrinkles and air bubbles.

"Jesus Christ," Mia mutters. She sits up and reaches for your cock, taking over. Her fingers work quickly and efficiently, smoothing the condom down your shaft with practiced ease. "You need to work on that. When you're with Rosé, you can't fumble around with a condom like a complete amateur. She'll think you're hopeless."

The mention of Rosé makes your heart race even faster. "Right. Sorry."

"It's fine. That's why we're practicing." She lies back down, spreading her legs again. "Now get between my legs and put it in. Go slow. Don't just shove it in like an idiot."

You position yourself, your condom-covered cock pressing against her entrance. You're shaking, your entire body vibrating with nerves and anticipation. This is your first time. This is actually your first time having sex with another person.

"Breathe," Mia says, her hands coming up to rest on your shoulders. "You're so tense you're going to pass out. Just breathe and push in slowly."

You take a breath and push forward. The head of your cock slips inside her, and the sensation is absolutely overwhelming. She's tight, incredibly tight, and hot and wet even through the condom. It's nothing like your hand, nothing like anything you've ever felt before. Your brain short-circuits trying to process the intensity of it.

"Slow," she reminds you, her fingers digging into your shoulders. "All the way in, but slow."

You push deeper, inch by agonizing inch, feeling her stretch around you. The resistance, the pressure, the heat - it's all too much and not enough at the same time. When you're finally buried completely inside her, balls pressed against her ass, you have to stop and just breathe because you feel like you might explode.

"Stay calm," Mia murmurs calmly, even though you can feel her pulse racing where you're joined. "Don't you dare cum right now. We just started. Just breathe and get used to the feeling."

"It's so tight," you gasp. "I don't know if I can—"

"You can. Just stay still for a second. Let yourself adjust."

You stay frozen, buried inside her, feeling every tiny movement of her body around your cock. After what feels like forever but is probably only thirty seconds, she speaks again.

"Okay. Now pull out slowly, then push back in. Slow strokes. Get a rhythm going."

You start moving, pulling almost all the way out and then sliding back in. The drag of her walls against your cock is incredible, and you're already worried you won't last long. Your second stroke is smoother than the first, and the third is smoother still. You're finding a rhythm, slow and steady, trying to focus on the mechanics instead of how amazing it feels.

"Does it feel good for you?" you ask, needing to know, needing some confirmation that you're doing this right.

"Not yet," she says honestly. "But you'll get there. Keep going. Try angling your hips up slightly, see if you can hit that spot you were touching with your fingers."

You adjust your angle on the next thrust, and her breath hitches slightly. Better. You keep that angle, continuing your slow, steady pace, and you can feel her starting to get wetter, her body responding to yours.

But then your brain makes the mistake of thinking about Rosé. About how you'll eventually be doing this with her, about how you need to be good at this, about how you can't fuck this up or you'll ruin everything. The anxiety spirals immediately, and you feel your cock start to soften inside Mia, losing hardness even as you're still moving.

"What are you doing?" Mia's voice cuts through your spiral. "Are you getting soft right now? While youThen're inside me?"

"I'm sorry, I just—I started thinking about—"

"Focus on me," she exclaims, her hands moving to your face, forcing you to look at her. "Don't think about anything else. Just focus on me. On how I feel around your cock."

But it's not working. Your cock continues to soften, and you can feel the shame burning through you.

"Okay, new strategy. You want to think about Rosé? Then think about Rosé. Imagine this is her pussy you're inside right now. Imagine how tight she'd be, how wet, how good it would feel."

Your cock twitches, starting to respond.

"Yeah, that's it." Mia’s tone dips, turning slow, sultry, and commanding. "Imagine you're fucking Rosé right now. Imagine her underneath you, blonde hair spread across the pillow, looking up at you with those beautiful eyes while you stretch her open with your cock."

You're getting harder again, blood rushing back.

"Imagine making her moan," Mia continues, her hips starting to move with yours, grinding up to meet your thrusts. "Making her feel so good that she can't think straight. Making her cum on your dick so hard that she falls in love with you right there. That's what's going to happen. You're going to fuck her so good that she'll never want anyone else."

"Fuck," you breathe, fully hard again now, your thrusts becoming more purposeful.

"That's it. Fuck me like I'm her. Show me what you're going to do to Rosé when you finally get your chance." Mia's dirty talk is relentless now, and it's working better than anything else has. "You're going to make her scream your name. You're going to ruin her for other guys. Every time she thinks about sex, she's going to think about you and how good you made her feel."

You're really fucking her now, your hips moving faster, driven by the fantasy she's painting. The image of Rosé beneath you, the idea of making her yours, it's turning you on more than anything else could.

"Harder," Mia commands, her legs wrapping around your waist. "Fuck me harder. Show me what that virgin cock can do."

You increase your pace, thrusting deeper, and suddenly it's like something clicks. Your angle's right, your rhythm's right, and Mia's breath catches in a way that tells you you're hitting the right spot.

"Yes," she hisses. "Right there. Keep doing exactly that."

"Is it good now?" you pant, desperate for confirmation.

"Getting there. Don't stop. Keep fucking me just like that."

You maintain the pace and angle, and Mia starts making these soft moaning sounds that drive you absolutely crazy. Her pussy's gripping you tighter, getting wetter, and you can feel the pleasure building in both of you.

"Think about Rosé watching you fuck me," Mia says, her dirty talk continuing even as she's starting to lose herself to pleasure. "Think about her getting turned on watching you, wanting her turn. Think about how desperate she'd be for your cock after seeing how good you can fuck."

"Oh God," you groan, your hips snapping forward harder.

"You're going to make her beg for it," Mia continues, moaning now. "She's going to spread her legs and beg you to fuck her. And you're going to give it to her just like this. Hard and deep and perfect."

Your rhythm's becoming frantic now, your cock pistoning in and out of her. The bed's creaking beneath you, your skin's slapping against hers. "Fuck me harder," Mia demands, her nails digging into your back. "Show me how you're going to destroy Rosé's pussy. Make me feel it."

You pound into her, putting all your strength behind each thrust, and Mia's moaning louder now, her head thrown back, her blue hair spread across the pillow in a way that's almost artistic.

"Yes, yes, fuck, just like that," she gasps. "You're going to be so good for her. She's going to love your cock. Love how you fuck her. She's going to be addicted to you."

The combination of the physical sensation and her words is building you toward orgasm faster than you can control. You can feel it approaching, that pressure building at the base of your spine, in your balls, spreading through your entire body.

"I'm close," you warn her.

"Then make me cum first," she commands. "Reach down and play with my clit while you fuck me. Make me cum on your cock."

You adjust your position slightly, getting one hand between your bodies, finding her clit with your fingers. You start rubbing it in circles, maintaining your hard thrusts, and the effect on Mia is immediate.

"Fuck, yes, right there," she cries out, her back arching off the bed. "Don't stop, don't stop, I'm gonna—"

Her pussy clamps down on your cock, pulsing rhythmically as she comes, and the sensation of her cumming around you is what finally pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you with devastating force, pleasure exploding from your core and radiating through every nerve ending. You're cumming, cumming hard, your hips jerking erratically as you empty yourself into the condom. It goes on forever, wave after wave of pleasure, your cock pulsing inside her tight heat. When it finally subsides, you collapse on top of her, completely spent, your chest heaving.

After a moment of catching your breath, you pull out and look down to remove the condom. That's when you see it.

The condom's split along the side, torn open, and you can see your cum leaking out of the tear, mixing with her wetness.

"Oh fuck. Mia, the condom broke. Oh fuck, oh fuck, I came inside you, I—"

"Hey, calm down." She reaches up and touches your face, and her expression is surprisingly unconcerned. "It's fine. I'm on the pill. Have been for years. And you're a virgin, so I know you're clean. There's nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure?" Your heart's still racing with panic.

"I'm sure." She smiles, almost lazy in her post-orgasm relaxation. "Actually, I prefer it this way. I like creampie. Feels more intimate, you know? More real."

"You like it?" You're trying to process this, trying to reconcile the panic with her calm acceptance.

"Yeah. There's something hot about feeling a guy cum inside you for real, not just into some rubber barrier. Knowing his cum's inside you, dripping out." She shifts her hips slightly, and you can see some of your cum start to leak out of her pussy, white against her blue hair. "See? Hot."

You're staring at the sight, mesmerized and still slightly panicked and weirdly aroused all at once. Your cum mixed with her wetness, dripping out of her pussy, staining that blue hair.

"So that was your first time," Mia says, bringing your attention back to her face. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know," you admit. "Overwhelmed. Terrified I wasn't good enough. Confused about the condom. But also... that was amazing. The best thing I've ever felt."

"You did fine for your first time. Better than fine, actually. Once you got over your performance anxiety, you were pretty decent." She stretches lazily. "And now you're not a virgin anymore. Now you've got actual experience. That's going to help a lot when it comes to Rosé."

You're still staring at the sight of your cum leaking out of Mia's pussy. Your cock, which you expected to be completely spent after that intense orgasm, is still hard. Not softening at all. Just standing there, slick with both of your fluids, pointing at her like it's ready for round two immediately.

"Look at you," Mia says, impressed and amused. "Still hard after cumming that much. You really liked seeing your cum inside me, didn't you?"

"Yeah," you admit, unable to look away from her pussy. The way your white cum contrasts with her blue hair, the way it's slowly dripping out, it's doing something to your brain that you can't quite explain.

"Then keep going," she says simply, spreading her legs wider. "Don't just stand there staring. Get back inside me. Now you can really enjoy yourself. No condom, no anxiety about breaking it. Just you and me and how good it feels."

You obey. You position yourself between her legs again, your cock already pressing against her entrance, and this time when you push in, the sensation is completely different. No barrier between you, just bare skin sliding into her cum-filled pussy. It's wetter, slicker, hotter than before, and the knowledge that your cum is inside her, coating her walls, makes it even more intense.

"Oh fuck," you breathe as you sink all the way in. "That feels incredible."

"Yeah?" Mia's watching your face, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Better without the condom?"

"So much better. I can feel everything." You start moving, pulling out and pushing back in, and the wet sounds are even more dirty now. The squelching of your cum and her arousal mixing together, the slap of skin on skin.

"Then fuck me," she says, her hands coming up to grip your shoulders. "No more holding back. No more worrying. Just fuck me and enjoy it."

Something shifts in your confidence. Maybe it's the fact that you've already made her cum once. Maybe it's that you've already lost your virginity so the pressure's off. Maybe it's just that you're so turned on by the visual of your cum leaking out around your cock as you thrust into her. Whatever it is, you start moving with more purpose, more aggression than before.

Your hips snap forward harder, driving deeper, and Mia makes this pleased sound that spurs you on. You're not being tentative anymore, not asking if everything's okay. You're just fucking her, really fucking her, and she's clearly into it.

"That's it," she encourages, her legs wrapping around your waist. "Use me. Take what you want. This is your reward for making that introduction happen. My pussy is yours right now."

The dirty talk helps, keeps you focused and aroused instead of spiraling into anxiety. You can feel yourself getting more confident with each thrust, finding angles that make her gasp, varying your rhythm to keep her guessing.

"You feel so good wrapped around my cock," you say, surprised by your own boldness. "So tight and wet."

"Keep talking," Mia says breathlessly. "Tell me what you're feeling."

"I can feel my cum inside you. Feel it getting pushed deeper every time I thrust in. It's so fucking hot." You're rambling now, but she seems to like it. "Your pussy feels amazing. That blue hair against my skin. The way you grip my cock when I go deep."

"Fuck yes," she moans. "You're getting better at this. More confident. Rosé's going to love it when you talk to her like this."

You imagine it's her beneath you, imagine her blonde hair instead of blue, imagine making her feel this good. Your thrusts become more frantic, more desperate.

"Harder," Mia demands. "Show me how you're going to fuck Rosé when you finally get your chance. Make me feel it."

You pound into her, the bed shaking beneath you, your balls slapping against her ass with each thrust. The cum inside her is making everything slicker, easier, letting you go faster and deeper than before. You can feel it coating your cock, dripping down your balls, making an absolute mess of both of you.

"You like being inside me without a condom?" Mia asks. "Like feeling me raw?"

"God yes," you gasp. "I never want to use a condom again. This feels too good."

"Then remember this feeling. Remember how much better it is to feel a woman for real, skin on skin, no barriers. When you're with Rosé, you'll want this. You'll want to feel her pussy gripping your bare cock, want to fill her up with your cum just like you're doing to me."

The fantasy she's painting combined with the incredible physical sensations is building you toward another orgasm already. You shouldn't be able to cum again this soon, but apparently your body didn't get that memo. The pleasure is building in your core again, that familiar pressure starting to mount.

"I can't believe I'm going to cum again already," you say, your rhythm becoming erratic. "It's too good, I can't hold back."

"Then don't," Mia says, her hands moving to your ass, pulling you deeper into her. "Cum inside me again. Fill me up more. I want to feel it."

"Are you close?" You want her to cum with you this time, want to feel her pussy squeezing your cock while you're filling her.

"Almost there. Play with my clit again. Make me cum on your cock one more time."

You get your hand between your bodies, finding her clit swollen and sensitive. You start rubbing circles around it while maintaining your hard, deep thrusts, and Mia's response is immediate. Her head falls back, her back arches, and her pussy starts fluttering around your cock.

"So close," she pants. "Don't stop, don't stop—"

You keep the exact same rhythm and pressure, your fingers on her clit and your cock pounding into her, and suddenly she's cumming. Her pussy clamps down on you like a vice, rhythmically squeezing your cock, and that's all it takes to trigger your own orgasm.

You bury yourself as deep as possible and explode inside her again. The pleasure is different this time - less sharp and overwhelming, more deep and satisfying. You can feel your cum pumping into her already cum-filled pussy, adding to the mess, making everything even wetter and slicker.

"Fuck, fuck, yes," you groan, your hips jerking with each pulse. "I'm cumming so much."

"I can feel it," Mia moans beneath you. "Feel you filling me up. So much cum."

You stay buried inside her as your orgasm subsides, both of you breathing hard, your bodies slick with sweat. When you finally pull out, the visual is even more obscene than before. Your cock's absolutely covered in a mixture of cum and her arousal, and there's so much cum inside her now that it immediately starts pouring out, running down her ass onto the sheets.

"Jesus," you breathe, staring at what you've done to her. "That's..."

"Hot as hell?" Mia finishes for you, propping herself up on her elbows to look. "Yeah. I told you I like creampie. And you gave me a really good one. Actually, two really good ones."

You collapse beside her on the bed, your muscles feeling like jelly. Your cock's finally starting to soften now, sensitive and spent. You can't believe what just happened, can't believe you just fucked someone twice in a row, can't believe how good it all felt.

"You did well for your first time," Mia says, turning her head to look at you. "Better than I expected, honestly. You've got natural instinct once you get past the anxiety. And your recovery time is impressive - not every guy can go twice like that right away."

"So what happens now?" you ask, still trying to catch your breath.

"Now we practice," she says simply. "This was good, but you're still rough around the edges. You need to work on your stamina, your technique, your confidence. We're going to meet up a few more times before your tour with Rosé starts. By the time you're working with her, you're going to be ready. You're going to know exactly how to fuck a woman properly, how to read her body, how to make her feel good. And then when your moment comes with Rosé, you won't blow it."

"You really think I can do this? Get with her?"

"I think you've got a better shot than you realize." Mia reaches over and squeezes your hand. "She already likes you as a person. Once you're confident in bed, once you know what you're doing, you'll be able to show her a side of yourself she hasn't seen before. And trust me, women appreciate a guy who knows how to fuck properly."

You lie there in the messy bed, your cum slowly leaking out of Mia's pussy, and for the first time since this whole thing started, you feel like maybe this could actually work. Maybe you really could end up with Rosé. Maybe all of this - the humiliation, the blackmail, the deal with Mia - maybe it's all going to lead somewhere good.

"Thank you," you say quietly. "For doing this. For teaching me."

"You're welcome," she says. "But don't thank me yet. We've still got a lot of work to do. And some of the things I'm going to teach you are going to push you way outside your comfort zone. Tonight was just the basics. The real fun stuff comes later."

That's it. You're committed now. You've crossed the line from virgin to experienced, from completely inexperienced to someone who's actually fucked and made a woman cum. There's no going back. And you don't want to go back. You want to keep moving forward, keep learning, keep getting better. Because at the end of all of this, there's Rosé.

—

Mia's training has made you more confident in general, less of a nervous wreck, but around Rosé specifically you still turn into a fumbling mess. You've gotten better at sex, that's undeniable. Mia put you through your paces over several sessions - teaching you stamina techniques, different positions, how to read a woman's body language, how to use your hands and mouth and cock in combination. By the time the tour started, you weren't a virgin anymore. You were someone with actual experience, actual skills. But none of that matters when Rosé smiles at you across the rehearsal space, or when her hand brushes yours while passing equipment, or when she compliments your work in that sweet voice. You're still hopelessly in love with her, still too scared to make a move.

The final show is in Los Angeles, a massive venue packed with screaming fans. Everything goes perfectly - the sound is pristine, every cue lands exactly where it should, and Rosé's performance is absolutely stunning. When she takes her final bow and the lights drop, you feel this weird combination of pride and sadness. Pride that you were part of this, sadness that it's over.

The post-show breakdown is chaotic. Everyone's rushing around, packing equipment, loading trucks. You barely get to say two words to Rosé before she's pulled away for press photos and meet-and-greets. You're helping coil cables when your phone buzzes.

"Can you come to my hotel room? Room 2156. I want to talk to you about something."

Your heart immediately starts racing. This is it. This could be the moment. Or it could be nothing - maybe she just wants to talk about future work opportunities, or thank you for the tour, or something completely professional and platonic that you'll overinterpret because you're an idiot.

You finish up your work, tell the crew lead you're heading out, and make your way to the hotel. The elevator ride up feels like it takes hours. When you reach room 2156, you stand outside for a solid minute, trying to calm your breathing, before finally knocking.

Rosé opens the door, and she looks absolutely beautiful. She's changed out of her stage outfit into something casual - soft gray sweatpants that hang low on her hips and an oversized white t-shirt that's slightly see-through, showing the outline of a simple black bra underneath. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a bun, a few strands framing her face, and she's barefoot. She looks comfortable, relaxed, more approachable than she's ever looked in the professional tour environment.

"Hey!” She's smiling at you, and you can tell it's genuine. “Come in, come in."

You step into the hotel room. It's nicer than the one you're staying in - king-size bed, sitting area with a couch, floor-to-ceiling windows showing the LA skyline at night. There's an open bottle of champagne on the table, two glasses already poured.

"I'm so glad the tour's finally over," she says, closing the door behind you. "Don't get me wrong, it was amazing, but I'm exhausted. Ready to just collapse for like a week straight."

"You were incredible out there," you say, trying to sound casual. "Every single show. I'm honored I got to be part of it."

"Stop being so formal." She laughs, gesturing for you to sit on the couch. "You've been amazing this whole tour. More than just good at your job - you've been a real friend. Someone I could actually talk to and relax around. That means a lot to me."

"It was a pleasure," you say, sitting down carefully. "Working with you has been... honestly, it's been one of the best experiences of my life."

She's about to respond when there's a knock at the door. Firm, confident.

"Oh, that must be her," Rosé says, moving to answer it.

"Her?" you ask, confused.

Rosé opens the door, and Mia walks in carrying a bouquet of pink roses. She's wearing a short black dress that hugs her curves, showing off her legs, her blue hair loose around her shoulders. She's got this slightly flushed look to her face, her eyes a little glassy, and you realize she's been drinking.

"Congratulations!" Mia says brightly, handing the flowers to Rosé. The two of them hug, and you notice how comfortable they are with each other, how genuine their friendship seems to have become.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, ‘cause you're genuinely surprised to see her.

"I came to congratulate my friend on an amazing tour," Mia says, grinning at you. "I was at the show tonight. Watched from the VIP section. It was incredible." She plops down on the couch next to you, close enough that you can smell the alcohol on her breath and her perfume.

"I'm glad you two got along so well," you say, looking between them. "When I made that introduction, I didn't know you'd end up actually being friends."

"Oh, we're definitely friends," Rosé says, setting the flowers on the table and picking up one of the champagne glasses. "Mia's been great. We talk all the time. Actually..." She takes a sip, looking at you over the rim of the glass. "She's told me a lot about you."

“Oh. Really?”

"She told me how much you like me," Rosé says, gently and direct at the same time. "How you've been crushing on me basically since we met. How you're too nervous to say anything."

You look at Mia, betrayed. "You told her?"

"Of course I told her," Mia says, completely unrepentant. "That was part of our deal, remember? I help you get closer to Rosé. Well, this is me helping. You were never going to make a move on your own."

Rosé sets down her glass and comes to sit on your other side, so you're sandwiched between both of them. "So," she says softly, her hand finding yours. "Do you have nothing to say to me?"

"Go ahead," Mia encourages, nudging your shoulder. "It's your moment. Don't waste it."

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding so hard you think it might crack a rib. "I really like you, Rosé. You're amazing. Talented and kind and beautiful, and I can't get you out of my head. I know I'm probably not in your league, and I know this might ruin everything, but I needed you to know."

Rosé smiles, soft and sweet, and reaches up to touch your cheek. "You're cute," she says. "And I know. I've known for a while. It's pretty obvious when someone likes you that much."

"You knew?"

"And Mia told me everything," she continues. "About the deal you made. About the training. About why you were so desperate to get experience."

Your face burns with embarrassment. "She told you about that?"

"Everything," Rosé confirms, and then she leans in and kisses you.

It's soft at first, gentle, her lips warm and tasting faintly of champagne. Then her hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens. You're kissing Rosé. You're actually kissing Rosé.

When she pulls back, you're speechless, just staring at her with your mouth slightly open.

"What just happened?" you murmur.

"I kissed you," she says, smiling. "Because I like you too. Have for a while. I was just waiting to see if you'd ever work up the courage to say something."

"Since everyone's happy and satisfied," Mia interrupts, standing up and grabbing the champagne bottle, "and since I'm already a little drunk..." She takes a swig directly from the bottle.

"I'm a little drunk too," Rosé admits, giggling.

"Then let's celebrate!" Mia says, raising the bottle.

"How?" you ask, still trying to process that Rosé just kissed you.

Mia and Rosé exchange a look, then both say simultaneously: "Fucking!"

"Uh, sorry, I'm not sure if I understood correctly.”

"You heard us," Mia says, grinning wickedly. "Everyone's happy, everyone's horny, we're all attracted to each other. Let's celebrate properly."

"Everyone?" you ask, your brain struggling to keep up. "Like... all three of us?"

"Obviously," Mia says. "Unless you just want to sit in the corner and jerk off while watching. But I figured it's time to put your training into practice. Show Rosé what you've learned."

You feel your face burning. "Did you really need to tell her about that?"

"Of course. To prove to her how committed you were to winning her over. You're welcome, by the way," Mia replies, proudly. "It won't be weird. We're all adults. We all want this. Right, Rosé?"

Rosé nods, her hand still on yours, her thumb tracing circles on your palm. "I think it could be fun. No pressure if you're not comfortable, but... I want you. And Mia's my friend. Why not enjoy ourselves?"

Your mind is racing. This is beyond any fantasy you've ever had. Rosé wants you. Mia's here too. They're suggesting a threesome. This might actually be happening.

"Okay," you hear yourself say. "That's insane as hell, but okay. Let's do this."

Mia grins and sets down the champagne bottle. "Finally. I thought you'd never agree.”

Mia, obviously, is the first to make the first move. She reaches down to slip off her black heels one at a time. Then her hands move to the zipper at the side of her dress. She pulls it down slowly, deliberately, and the black fabric loosens around her body. She slides it off her shoulders, letting it fall and pool at her feet, and underneath she's wearing matching black lingerie - a lace bra that pushes her small breasts up slightly, and matching panties that sit low on her hips.

Her body still manages to impress you even after so many sex sessions. Pale and smooth skin, waist narrow, delicately curved hips, and there, visible through the semi-transparent lace of her panties, is that distinctive blue hair.

"Oh my God," Rosé says, her eyes widening. "Your pubic hair really is blue. I thought you were joking when you mentioned it."

Mia grins, proud. "Told you. If you're going to commit to a color, commit completely. It's my signature."

"It's actually kind of amazing," Rosé admits, stepping closer to get a better look. "How often do you have to dye it?"

"Every couple weeks. It's a pain in the ass, but worth it for the reactions." Mia hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, teasing. "Want a better look later?"

"Definitely," Rosé says, and then she's pulling her own shirt over her head.

Your breath catches in your throat as Rosé reveals herself. She's wearing a simple cotton bra, the fabric is light gray, and you can see the shape of her nipples pressing against it. Her breasts are slightly larger than Mia's, fuller, and you feel your cock twitch in your pants just from looking at her.

She hooks her fingers into her sweatpants and slides them down, stepping out of them gracefully. Underneath she's wearing matching gray cotton panties, the comfortable kind with a little bow at the front. They hug her hips perfectly, showing off the curve of her ass, the smoothness of her thighs. She's more toned than you expected, her legs strong and defined, probably from all the performances and dance rehearsals.

This is actually happening. Rosé is standing in front of you in her underwear, and Mia's right there too, and they both want you.

"Your turn," Mia says, pointing at you. "Get those clothes off."

Your hands are shaking as you pull your shirt over your head, toss it aside. The sneakers come off easy. Your fingers fumble with your belt, but you manage to get your pants undone and slide them down. When you're standing there in just your boxer briefs, both women are looking at you appraisingly, and you can see the bulge of your erection already straining against the fabric.

"Come here," Mia says, taking your hand and pulling you toward the bed. You follow obediently and then she pushes you to sit on the edge of the mattress.

"Wait, should we... do we need condoms?"

"I'm on the pill," Rosé says immediately.

"Same," Mia adds. "And we're all clean, right? So we're good. No barriers tonight."

The thought of fucking both of them bare, feeling them for real with no latex in the way, makes your cock throb almost painfully.

"Lie back," Mia instructs, and you do, scooting up the bed until you're stretched out on your back against the pillows.

They move in sync, like they've planned this. Rosé positions herself on your left side, Mia on your right, and together they hook their fingers into the waistband of your boxer briefs. They pull them down slowly, torturously, and your cock springs free, already fully hard and leaking precum.

"Look at that," Mia says appreciatively. "All ready for us. See, Rosé? I told you the training worked. He's not nervous at all anymore."

That's a lie. You're absolutely nervous. But it's different now - it's anticipation and excitement rather than performance anxiety.

"It's time to show what you've learned," Mia continues, her hand wrapping around your shaft and giving it a few slow strokes. "All those lessons. All that practice. Now you get to use it on Rosé."

Rosé climbs onto the bed, moving to straddle your hips. She's still wearing her panties and bra, and you watch transfixed as she hooks her finger into the crotch of her panties and pulls them to the side. Her pussy is revealed, and it's beautiful - pink and glistening, her lips already parted slightly with arousal. Her pubic hair is trimmed extremely short, barely there, just a neat strip maybe a finger's width wide leading down to her slit.

Mia moves behind Rosé, kneeling on the bed, and her hands come around to cup Rosé's breasts through her bra. Then she reaches up and unclasps it, pulling it forward off Rosé's shoulders. Rosé's breasts spill free, and they're perfect - round and full, her nipples small and pink and already hard. Mia's hands immediately move to cup them, her fingers playing with Rosé's nipples, and Rosé makes this soft sighing sound.

"You're so beautiful," Mia murmurs, kissing Rosé's shoulder, her neck, the curve where they meet. "He's been dreaming about this moment for months."

Rosé reaches down and wraps her hand around your cock, positioning it at her entrance. The heat of her is incredible even before she starts to lower herself. She goes slow, her eyes locked on yours, and you watch your cock disappear inch by inch into her pussy.

The sensation is overwhelming. She's tight, incredibly tight, and hot and wet and perfect. Different from Mia but equally amazing. Her walls grip your cock as she sinks down, taking you deeper and deeper until she's fully seated on your lap, your entire length buried inside her.

"Oh fuck," you breathe, your hands moving automatically to her hips.

"How does he feel?" Mia asks, still playing with Rosé's breasts from behind, occasionally leaning in to kiss her neck or shoulder.

"Good," Rosé gasps. "Really good. Bigger than I expected."

She starts to move, lifting herself up until just your tip is inside her, then sinking back down. The drag of her walls against your cock is exquisite. She establishes a rhythm, slow and steady at first, and you can see the concentration on her face as she adjusts to having you inside her. Mia's hands continue their exploration of Rosé's body - squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, occasionally sliding down to touch her stomach, her thighs. She leans in and kisses Rosé properly this time, their tongues meeting, and you watch from beneath them feeling like the luckiest person alive.

When they break apart, Mia grins down at you. "Talk to her," she says. "Use your words. Tell her how she feels."

"You feel incredible," you say. "So tight and wet around my cock."

"More than that," Mia encourages. "Dirtier. Tell her what you've been thinking about. What you've been fantasizing about."

Rosé's riding you faster now, her pace increasing, her breasts bouncing with each movement. Mia's still behind her, one hand playing with Rosé's nipple, the other sliding down between Rosé's legs from behind to feel where you're joined.

"I've thought about this so many times," you say, getting bolder. "Thought about what your pussy would feel like. How you'd look riding my cock. It's better than any fantasy."

"Yeah?" Rosé pants, grinding down on you in a circular motion that makes both of you groan. "What else?"

"Tell her how you're going to make her cum," Mia coaches. "Tell her what you're going to do to her."

"I'm going to make you cum so hard," you say, your hips starting to thrust up to meet her movements. "I'm going to fill you up, make you feel so good you can't think straight."

"That's it," Mia says approvingly. "Keep going. Tell her how beautiful she looks riding you."

"You're so beautiful," you say, and it's fucking true. "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I can't believe I get to have you like this."

Rosé leans forward slightly, changing the angle, and the new position must hit something good inside her because she makes this desperate little sound. Her pace increases even more, riding you harder now, chasing her own pleasure. Mia leans around and captures one of Rosé's nipples in her mouth, sucking on it while her hand continues working the other breast. Rosé's head falls back, her blonde hair cascading down her back, her mouth open in pleasure.

"Tell her how her pussy feels," Mia says, pulling off Rosé's nipple. "Be specific."

"Your pussy feels perfect," you say, your hands gripping Rosé's hips tighter, helping guide her movements. "So wet and tight. Gripping my cock like you don't want to let go. I can feel every inch of you."

"More," Mia demands. "Tell her what you want to do to her."

"I want to fuck you in every position," you say, and the words are flowing easier now. "Want to bend you over and take you from behind. Want you on your back with your legs spread. Want to taste you while Mia watches. Want to make you scream my name."

"Fuck yes," Rosé moans, her movements becoming more frantic. "I love hearing you talk like that.”

Mia watches Rosé riding you for a few more moments, her hand still playing with Rosé's breast, then she pulls back with a mischievous grin. Her hands move to her own panties, hooking into the waistband of the black lace, and she slides them down her legs slowly. You catch a glimpse of that distinctive blue pubic hair as she kicks the panties aside, fully naked now except for her bra which she quickly unclasps and tosses away.

She moves up the bed, crawling over your body until she's positioned above your head. You can see everything from this angle - her pussy with that trimmed blue hair framing it, her lips already glistening with arousal, the pink flesh between them. She's facing Rosé, looking down at where the blonde is still riding your cock with increasing enthusiasm.

"I don't want to miss out on the fun.” Mia lowers herself slowly, her thighs coming to rest on either side of your head. "Your mouth did such good work last time. Let's see if you can multitask."

Her pussy hovers just above your face, close enough that you can smell her arousal, that musky-sweet scent that you've come to associate with her. Then she lowers herself completely, her weight settling on your face, her pussy pressing against your mouth. The taste of her explodes across your tongue immediately - a taste you've become familiar with over so many sessions. That blue hair tickles your nose and cheeks as you open your mouth and start licking.

The position is overwhelming in the best possible way. Below, Rosé is still riding your cock, her tight pussy gripping and releasing with each bounce. Above, Mia's grinding her pussy against your face, using your mouth for her pleasure. You're completely surrounded by them, completely consumed by sensation, and it's more intense than anything you experienced during your training sessions with Mia alone.

You drag your tongue up Mia's slit, tasting her from bottom to top, and she makes this satisfied humming sound above you. Your hands move to grip her thighs, holding her steady as you work your tongue against her. You find her clit quickly, that sensitive bundle of nerves you've learned to identify, and you start circling it with the tip of your tongue exactly the way she taught you.

"Good boy," Mia says with approval. She reaches forward, and her hand threads through Rosé's hair. "Look at him, taking both of us at once. Such a good little student, putting his training to use."

Rosé's pace on your cock has become more erratic, more desperate. You can feel her getting wetter, her walls starting to flutter around your shaft in a way that suggests she's building toward orgasm. The sounds she's making are getting louder too - breathy moans and gasps that fill the hotel room.

"He's so good," Rosé pants. "His cock feels amazing. So hard inside me. Hitting all the right spots."

"Tell him," Mia encourages, grinding down harder on your face. "Tell him exactly how good his cock feels in your pussy."

You increase the pressure of your tongue on Mia's clit, sucking it between your lips briefly before returning to those circular motions. Your training is paying off - you can read her body now, can feel when she responds positively to something, when she needs more or less pressure. She's getting wetter against your mouth, her hips starting to roll in small circles as she rides your face.

"Your cock is perfect," Rosé says, and hearing those words from her, the woman you've been fantasizing about for months, makes your dick throb inside her. "I love how it stretches me. Love feeling every inch of you inside me. I've thought about this, you know. Thought about what you'd be like. You're better than I imagined."

Your hands are still gripping Mia's thighs, but you risk releasing one to reach down and grab Rosé's hip, helping guide her movements. She's bouncing faster now, her breasts moving with each motion, and you wish you could see her face but Mia's pussy is blocking your view. All you can do is listen to her voice, feel her pussy gripping your cock, and focus on making Mia feel good with your mouth.

"That's it, good boy," Mia says again. "Use that tongue. Show Rosé what you learned. Make us both cum on you."

You redouble your efforts, your tongue working Mia's clit faster, alternating between circles and flicks. Occasionally you dip lower to thrust your tongue inside her, tasting her more deeply, before returning to her clit. Your jaw is already starting to ache but you push through it, determined to make her cum the way you did during your training.

Rosé's movements become more purposeful, angling her hips to hit a specific spot inside her. She's grinding down on you now rather than just bouncing, rolling her hips in these circular motions that must be hitting her G-spot because she's making these desperate little sounds that you've never heard from her before.

"I'm getting close," Rosé gasps. "Oh God, I'm getting so close."

"Then cum for him," Mia commands, and her own voice is getting breathier as you work her clit relentlessly. "Cum on his cock. Show him how good he makes you feel."

You thrust your hips up to meet Rosé's movements, driving deeper into her, and she cries out at the increased intensity. Mia's thighs are starting to tremble on either side of your head, and you recognize the signs. She's getting close too. You seal your lips around her clit and suck hard while flicking it with your tongue, the technique that you learned drives her crazy. Her hand tightens in Rosé's hair, pulling slightly, and she grinds down on your face even harder.

"Fuck, just like that," Mia pants. "Don't stop. You're such a good boy, making me feel so good. Your mouth is perfect."

The dirty talk from both of them, combined with the physical sensations, is almost enough to make you cum without even trying. But you breathe through it, focusing on the task at hand. Your tongue works Mia's clit with practiced precision while your cock fills Rosé completely, stretching her, giving her exactly what she needs.

Rosé's movements become frantic, almost wild. She's chasing her orgasm now, completely lost in the pleasure, and you can feel her pussy starting to tighten around your cock in a way that's different from before. Her walls are fluttering rapidly, clenching and releasing in quick succession.

"I'm cumming," Rosé cries out suddenly. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming on your cock."

Her pussy clamps down on you like a vice, pulsing rhythmically as her orgasm crashes through her. You can feel her wetness increasing, coating your cock, dripping down your balls. Her whole body is shaking above you, and through the tangle of Mia's thighs you can just barely see her throwing her head back, her mouth open in ecstasy.

The sight and sound of Rosé cumming, combined with your relentless attention to her clit, pushes Mia over the edge too. Her thighs clamp around your head, her body going rigid for a moment before she starts to shake.

"Yes, yes, fuck yes," Mia gasps, grinding her pussy against your face as she cums. "Good boy, such a good fucking boy, making me cum on your tongue."

You keep licking her through it, gentling your movements as her orgasm peaks and then gradually subsides. Her pussy pulses against your mouth, and you can taste the increase in her wetness, feel it coating your lips and chin. Above her, you can hear her breathing hard, trying to catch her breath, and you feel a surge of pride that you made both of them cum at the same time. Rosé's still slowly rolling her hips, riding out the aftershocks of her orgasm, and your cock is still hard inside her, throbbing with need but not quite at the edge yet. Mia's weight on your face lightens as she lifts herself slightly, giving you room to breathe properly. Your face is absolutely covered in her arousal, your jaw aching, but you've never felt more satisfied.

"Holy shit," Rosé breathes, her hands braced on your chest for support. "That was intense. You made me cum so hard."

"Told you he was good," Mia says smugly, finally climbing off your face. She looks down at you, taking in your flushed face, your lips and chin glistening with her wetness, and grins. "You did so well. Making both of us cum like that. Such a good student."

You can finally see Rosé properly now, and she looks absolutely gorgeous in the aftermath of her orgasm. Her skin is flushed pink, a light sheen of sweat making her glow in the hotel room lighting. Her hair is messy, her lips swollen, her eyes still slightly glazed with pleasure. She's still sitting on your cock, your length buried inside her, and you can feel her pussy still occasionally clenching around you with aftershocks.

Mia leans down and captures your lips in a kiss, her tongue sliding into your mouth immediately. She can taste herself on you - that tangy, musky flavor from her pussy combined with your saliva. She kisses you deeply, thoroughly, her hand cupping your jaw as she explores your mouth with her tongue. When she pulls back, there's satisfaction in her eyes.

"I taught him how to kiss better too," Mia says to Rosé with a proud grin. "Everything. Literally everything he knows, I taught him."

Rosé's eyes light up with interest. "Really? Let me try."

She leans in, still straddling your hips with your cock buried inside her, and presses her lips to yours. The kiss is softer than Mia's at first, more tentative, but then her tongue traces your lower lip and you open for her. Unlike the first kiss, which was quick, in this one you can taste her better, and she still tastes faintly like champagne and something sweet, like strawberry, probably from the lip gloss she's wearing. You kiss her the way Mia taught you - alternating between gentle and demanding, using your tongue purposefully rather than just thrusting it around randomly. Rosé makes this pleased humming sound against your mouth, her hand sliding up to tangle in your hair.

Mia watches for a moment, then she can't resist joining in. She grabs Rosé's face and turns it toward her, stealing a kiss right in front of you. You watch, transfixed, as the two of them kiss deeply, their tongues meeting. Then Mia pulls you in too, and suddenly it's all three of you - mouths meeting in the middle, tongues sliding against each other, impossible to tell who's kissing who. It's messy and hot and absolutely incredible.

When you finally break apart, all three of you breathing hard, Mia climbs off the bed and stretches. "Okay, now it's my turn to feel that dick," she announces. "I want to see you really going for it. None of that tentative virgin shit. I want you to fuck me properly."

"Okay," you agree, your cock twitching at the command in her voice even though it's still buried inside Rosé.

Rosé lifts herself off you slowly, your cock sliding out of her pussy with a wet sound. Her arousal coats your shaft, making it glisten, and you're still rock hard despite how desperately you want to cum. Rosé moves to the side, giving you room to get up.

You stand beside the bed, looking at Mia. Your newfound confidence, the training she's given you, makes you bold. "Get on all fours on the bed," you say, then add with a small smile, "Please."

Mia giggles at the politeness mixed with command, but she obeys immediately. She climbs onto the bed and positions herself on her hands and knees, her ass raised in the air, that blue hair between her legs visible from this angle. Her pussy is glistening wet, still aroused from the orgasm you gave her with your mouth, and the sight makes your cock throb with need.

Rosé settles herself near the headboard, leaning back against the pillows and spreading her legs. "Come here," she says to Mia. "If I have to watch, I might as well enjoy myself."

Mia grins and crawls forward until her face is positioned between Rosé's thighs. She doesn't waste time, immediately lowering her head and dragging her tongue up Rosé's slit. Rosé gasps, her head falling back against the headboard, her hands moving to tangle in Mia's blue hair.

You position yourself behind Mia, your hands settling on her hips. Her ass is perfect from this angle - rounded and firm, her pussy visible beneath it, wet and ready for you. You take your cock in hand and position it at her entrance, rubbing the head through her folds to coat yourself in her wetness. She pushes back against you impatiently, and you can hear her muffled voice against Rosé's pussy telling you to hurry up.

You push forward slowly, watching as your cock spreads her open and slides inside. The sensation is familiar after all your training sessions, but somehow better now. Maybe it's because Rosé is watching, or because Mia's simultaneously eating Rosé out, or just because this whole situation is so intensely erotic. Whatever the reason, being inside Mia feels incredible. Her pussy grips you tightly, hot and slick, welcoming you back like she's been waiting for this.

When you're fully seated inside her, balls pressed against her cunt, you pause for just a moment to savor it. Then you start moving, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. You establish a rhythm - slow and steady at first, letting both of you adjust to the position. Each thrust makes Mia rock forward slightly, pushing her face harder against Rosé's pussy, and Rosé is clearly enjoying it based on the sounds she's making.

"That's it," Mia says, pulling back from Rosé's pussy briefly to speak. "But harder. I told you I want you to really fuck me. Show Rosé what you can do."

You grip her hips tighter and increase your pace, your hips snapping forward with more force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, blending with Rosé's moans and the wet sounds of Mia eating her out. You can see everything from this position - the way Mia's ass jiggles slightly with each impact, the way your cock looks sliding in and out of her pussy, the way Rosé's face is twisted in pleasure as Mia's tongue works her clit.

"Fuck, he's doing so good," Rosé pants, fingers tightening in Mia's hair. "I can see why you spent so much time training him."

"He's a natural," Mia says between licks. "Just needed someone to show him how. And now look at him, fucking me like a pro."

The praise makes you bold. You adjust your angle slightly, remembering from your training sessions where Mia likes to be hit, and slam into her harder. She makes this choked gasping sound against Rosé's pussy, and you know you've found the right spot.

"Yes, right there," Mia confirms. "Keep hitting that spot. Don't stop."

You maintain the angle and increase your speed even more, really pounding into her now. Your fingers dig into her hips hard enough that you'll probably leave marks, and the thought of marking her, claiming her in some small way, makes you even more aroused. Your balls are slapping against her clit with each thrust, providing extra stimulation, and you can feel her pussy starting to get even wetter around your cock.

Rosé's moans are getting louder, more desperate. "Oh God, Mia, don't stop. Your tongue feels so good. Right there, right on my clit."

Mia focuses her attention on Rosé's clit, and you can tell because Rosé's whole body tenses, her back arching off the headboard. You keep fucking Mia hard and fast, your rhythm never faltering, determined to prove that you've learned your lessons well.

"Look at you," Mia says, somehow managing to talk while still working Rosé's pussy with her tongue. "Fucking me so good while making me eat out your crush. You've come so far from that terrified virgin in the bathroom."

"You taught me well," you pant, your thrusts becoming even more powerful. The bed is shaking beneath you, the headboard hitting the wall with rhythmic thuds. You don't care if anyone hears. All you care about is making Mia feel good, showing both of them what you're capable of.

Your hands slide from her hips down to her ass, gripping the flesh there and spreading her open so you can watch your cock disappearing into her pussy. The visual is incredible - her pussy stretched around your shaft, your cock glistening with her arousal, that blue hair getting messy and wet from the combination of her arousal and the sweat from your exertion.

"Harder," Mia demands, pulling away from Rosé just long enough to look back at you over her shoulder. "I said I wanted you to really go for it. Stop holding back."

So you do. You let go of whatever remaining restraint you had and really fuck her, putting all your strength behind each thrust. The force of it drives her face back into Rosé's pussy, and Rosé cries out in pleasure. You're grunting with the effort now, your muscles straining, but it feels too good to stop.

"That's it, that's perfect," Mia moans. "Fuck me just like that. Show me what that cock can do."

Rosé's hands are in Mia's hair, guiding her movements, and she's watching you fuck Mia with hooded eyes full of lust. "You look so hot," she says breathlessly. "Both of you. This is so fucking hot."

"God, you really did learn," Mia gasps. "You're fucking me so good. Rosé's going to be ruined for other guys after experiencing this."

The thought of being with Rosé like this, of fucking her the way you're fucking Mia right now, makes your cock throb inside Mia. You reach around with one hand to find her clit, rubbing it in circles while you continue pounding into her, and she practically screams against Rosé's pussy. You shift your grip on Mia's hips and increase your pace even more, your hips moving in a blur as you pound into her relentlessly. Your hand comes down on Mia's ass with a sharp crack, the sound echoing in the hotel room. Her flesh jiggles from the impact, a red handprint blooming on her pale skin.

"Fuck yes," Mia gasps, pulling away from Rosé's pussy just long enough to encourage you. "Again. Spank me harder, my good boy."

You bring your hand down again, this time on her other cheek, putting more force behind it. The sound is even louder, and Mia's pussy clenches around your cock in response. You can feel how much she loves it, how the combination of pain and pleasure is driving her wild. She goes back to eating Rosé out with renewed enthusiasm, her tongue working frantically.

"Spank her harder," Rosé pants. "She loves it. I can feel her moaning against my pussy every time you do it."

You deliver another slap, then another, alternating between cheeks as you continue fucking her hard. Each impact makes Mia's ass bounce, makes her pussy grip you tighter, and the visual of your handprints decorating her ass is incredibly arousing. You're marking her, claiming her, and she's loving every second of it.

"Such a good boy," Mia praises between licks. "Fucking me so good. Spanking me so good. You've learned everything perfectly."

The combination of the tight heat of her pussy, the visual of your cock disappearing into her, the red marks on her ass, and her constant praise is pushing you rapidly toward the edge. You can feel your orgasm building in your core, that pressure becoming impossible to ignore. Your balls are drawing up tight, and every thrust into her wet heat is bringing you closer to the point of no return.

"I'm getting close," you warn, the words tight and shaky as you fight to hold it in. "I'm going to cum soon."

"Me too," Mia gasps, her hips pushing back to meet your thrusts. "So close. Don't stop, keep fucking me just like that."

You maintain your brutal pace, one hand spanking her ass periodically while the other reaches around to rub her clit. The dual stimulation has her shaking, her thighs trembling with the effort of holding herself up. She's abandoned any pretense of eating Rosé out properly, just pressing her face against her pussy while she moans uncontrollably.

"Cum with me!” Mia demands, completely desperate now. "I want to feel you cum inside me. Fill me up with your cum. Give me that creampie."

Her words push you right to the edge. You slam into her as hard as you can, your fingers working her clit frantically, and you deliver one more sharp slap to her ass. That's what does it for both of you.

"I'm cumming," Mia cries out. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming, fill me up, please, give me all your cum."

"Fuck," you groan, your rhythm faltering as your orgasm crashes through you. You bury yourself as deep as possible and explode inside her, your cock pulsing as rope after rope of cum shoots into her pussy.

The sensation is overwhelming. Your whole body is shaking with the intensity of it, pleasure radiating from your core through every nerve ending. You can feel Mia's pussy clenching around you rhythmically as she cums too, milking your cock, trying to draw every last drop of cum from you. You keep thrusting through it, drawing out both of your orgasms, your cum mixing with her arousal and making everything even wetter and messier.

"Yes, yes, fuck yes," Mia moans, her arms giving out so her face is pressed into the mattress near Rosé's pussy. "So much cum. I can feel it filling me up."

You keep pumping into her until you're completely spent, until the last weak pulses of your orgasm fade. Then you give her ass one final sharp slap and pull out slowly, watching as your cock emerges from her pussy followed immediately by a stream of white cum.

"Good little slut.” It’s funny how the words come out naturally even though you never would have imagined saying something like that to a woman a few months ago.

Mia laughs breathlessly, the sound muffled against the bed. "Look at you, talking dirty. I've taught you so well."

She collapses fully onto the bed, rolling onto her back with her legs spread open. Her chest is heaving as she tries to catch her breath, and between her legs you can see your cum starting to leak out of her well-fucked pussy, dripping down over that blue hair and onto the sheets beneath her.

Rosé, who's been watching the finale with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, immediately moves closer to get a better look. She positions herself between Mia's legs and uses her fingers to spread Mia's pussy open, revealing the mess inside. Your cum is pooling there, white and thick, slowly dripping out in streams.

"Holy shit," Rosé breathes. "That's so much cum."

She reaches out tentatively and catches some of the leaking cum on her fingers, bringing them to her mouth. Her tongue darts out to taste it, and she makes this considering sound. "It's not bad," she says, licking her fingers clean. "Kind of salty. But good."

"Let me taste," Mia says, propping herself up on her elbows.

Rosé reaches down and gathers more cum from Mia's pussy, getting her fingers thoroughly coated. She brings them to Mia's mouth, and she immediately wraps her lips around Rosé's fingers and sucks them clean with obvious enthusiasm. Her tongue swirls around each finger, making sure she gets every drop.

"Mm, delicious," Mia says with a satisfied smile when Rosé pulls her fingers away. "Nothing beats a good creampie."

"That was incredible," Rosé says, sitting back and looking at both of you. "I can't believe how good you are at this now. Mia really did train you well."

"The best part," Mia says, her grin turning wicked, "is that during all our training sessions, I discovered he's a walking sex machine. He's got stamina for days."

Rosé's eyes drop to your cock, and you follow her gaze. Despite having just cum hard enough to see stars, your cock is still mostly hard, already starting to recover. It's slick with a mixture of your cum and Mia's arousal, and it twitches slightly under Rosé's scrutiny.

"Look at that," Mia continues, gesturing to your cock with obvious pride. "He can handle several rounds in a row without needing much recovery time. And trust me, he's got plenty of cum left in him."

"Really?" Rosé asks, her eyes lighting up with interest and renewed arousal. She bites her lower lip, looking at you with obvious hunger. "That's perfect, because now it's my turn. I want to feel you fuck me properly, not just ride you. I want you to take control and show me everything Mia taught you."

Your cock twitches again at her words. Despite having just orgasmed, despite the fact that you should probably need at least a few minutes to recover, you're already getting fully hard again at the thought of fucking Rosé properly.

"See?" Mia says, laughing. "Told you. He's ready to go already. You're going to have so much fun with him, Rosé. Just tell him what you want, and he'll give it to you. He's a very good student."

Rosé crawls toward you across the bed, her blonde hair messy and her skin still flushed from her earlier orgasm. When she reaches you, she wraps her hand around your cock and strokes it slowly, bringing it to full hardness.

"I want you to fuck me," she says simply, her eyes locked on yours. "I want to feel what Mia just felt. I want you to make me scream.”

You capture Rosé's lips in a deep kiss, your tongues meeting and sliding against each other while her hand continues stroking your cock. And the way she kisses you back with equal enthusiasm makes your heart race. When you pull away, there's a determined look in your eyes.

"Come here," you say, commanding in a way that surprises even you.

You slide off the bed and stand, your legs steady despite everything you've already done tonight. Rosé follows, standing in front of you, and you can see the anticipation in her expression. Without warning, you hook your arms under her thighs and lift her up. She's lighter than you expected, or maybe the adrenaline is giving you extra strength, but either way you hoist her up easily until her legs wrap around your waist instinctively.

"Oh my God," Rosé gasps, her arms going around your neck for support. "What are you doing?"

"Showing you what I learned," you reply, positioning her above your cock.

You reach down with one hand to guide yourself to her entrance, feeling the heat of her pussy hovering just above your tip. Then you lower her slowly, both of you groaning as your cock slides into her tight heat inch by inch. The angle is different from when she was riding you earlier - deeper, more intense, and you can feel every detail of her pussy as it stretches to accommodate your length.

When she's fully seated on your cock, her full weight supported by your arms and your length buried completely inside her, you both pause for a moment. Rosé's eyes are wide, her mouth open slightly in pleasure and surprise. Her pussy is gripping you so tightly it almost hurts, and you can feel her pulse racing where your bodies are joined.

"This is insane," she breathes, and then she leans in and kisses you again.

You start moving, using your arms and legs to lift her up and let her drop back down onto your cock. The first thrust makes her break the kiss to cry out, her head falling back, exposing the elegant line of her throat. You take advantage, leaning in to kiss and bite at her neck while you establish a rhythm. Up and down, her body sliding along your cock, gravity helping drive her down onto you with each movement.

"Holy fuck," Rosé moans, her fingers digging into your shoulders. "This feels so different. So deep. I can feel you everywhere."

From the bed, Mia watches with obvious delight, propped up on her elbows with her legs still spread, your cum still visible leaking from her pussy. "Look at you," she says proudly. "Standing up, holding her like that, fucking her in the air. I didn't even teach you that position. You're improvising. I love it."

The praise makes you more confident, more bold. You adjust your grip on Rosé, your hands moving from under her thighs to grip her ass directly, using it to control her movements. You lift her higher and pull her down harder, really slamming her onto your cock, and she practically screams in pleasure.

"Yes, oh God yes," Rosé cries out, her whole body trembling in your arms. "Don't stop, don't stop."

Your muscles are starting to burn from the exertion - holding her up, moving her up and down, keeping your balance while thrusting up to meet her movements. But it feels too good to stop, and the look of absolute ecstasy on Rosé's face is worth any amount of physical strain. Sweat is dripping down your face, your back, making your skin slick, but you push through it.

Rosé leans back slightly, changing the angle, and the new position must hit something incredible inside her because she lets out this broken, desperate sound. Her pussy clenches around you so hard you have to pause your movements for a second to keep from cumming right then and there.

"You're so strong," Rosé pants, her hands sliding from your shoulders down your chest, feeling your muscles working. "Holding me like this, fucking me like this. It's so hot."

"You feel amazing," you tell her honestly, resuming your movements. "Your pussy is perfect. So tight and wet. I could fuck you like this all night."

"Please do," she whimpers, and then she's kissing you again, desperate and needy.

The kiss is messy and imperfect because both of you are breathing too hard, moving too much, but that somehow makes it better. Your tongues meet between your mouths, and you can taste her moans, feel them vibrate against your lips. Every downward thrust drives your cock deeper into her, and every upward thrust of your hips meets her movement perfectly, creating this intense rhythm that has both of you gasping.

"This is so fucking hot to watch," Mia says from the bed, and you glance over to see her hand between her legs, fingers rubbing her clit while she watches you fuck Rosé. "You two look incredible together. I knew you'd be perfect for each other."

The knowledge that Mia is getting turned on watching you, that she's touching herself while you fuck the woman you've been in love with for months, adds another layer of arousal to everything. You increase your pace, your arms burning with the effort but refusing to give out, determined to give Rosé exactly what she wants.

Rosé's breasts are pressed against your chest, moving with each thrust, and you can feel her nipples hard against your skin. Her head is on your shoulder now, her mouth right next to your ear, and every moan and gasp and whimper goes straight into your ear and straight to your cock.

"You're so deep," she breathes. "I can feel you in my stomach. It's so intense. I've never been fucked like this before."

"Good. I want to ruin you for anyone else."

"You already have," she admits, her words splintering around a deeper push inside her. "Nobody's ever made me feel like this. Nobody's ever held me like this and just taken me."

You walk a few steps, adjusting your stance for better leverage, and Rosé squeaks in surprise at the movement while your cock is still buried inside her. You end up with her back against the wall near the window, and you use the support to really pound into her, your hips snapping forward with brutal force.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Rosé chants. “Just like that, don't stop, please don't stop."

The position gives you better leverage, lets you really drive into her with power behind each movement. Your fingers are digging into the flesh of Rosé's ass hard enough to leave marks, and some distant part of your brain is pleased by the idea of marking her, claiming her.

"Look at how well you're doing," Mia says, still touching herself. "Holding her up, fucking her against the wall. You've come so far. Remember when you couldn't even stay hard in my presence? Now look at you."

Rosé pulls back to look at your face, her expression dazed with pleasure. "You used to have trouble staying hard?" she asks breathlessly.

"Not anymore," you manage to say between thrusts. "Not with you. You make me so hard it hurts."

"Good," she says, and then she's kissing you again, her tongue pushing into your mouth demandingly.

You're not sure how long you stay like that - could be minutes, could be hours. Time seems to lose meaning when you're buried inside Rosé, when her pussy is gripping you like a vice, when she's moaning your name against your mouth. Your muscles are screaming in protest but you refuse to stop, refuse to put her down, determined to show her exactly what you're capable of.

"I want you to fuck me on the bed," Rosé finally says against your lips. "I want you on top of me. I want to feel your full weight while you fuck me."

You carry her back to the bed, your cock still buried inside her, and lay her down on her back without pulling out. The change in position lets your burning muscles rest slightly, and you take a moment to just look at her spread out beneath you. Her hair is a mess, fanned out across the pillows. Her skin is flushed and covered in a light sheen of sweat. Her lips are swollen from kissing. She looks absolutely debauched, and knowing that you did this to her fills you with pride.

"Don't just stare," Rosé says with a smile. "Fuck me.”

You brace your hands on either side of Rosé's head and start moving, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into her. The new position lets you put your full weight behind each thrust, driving deeper than you could when you were holding her up. Rosé's legs wrap around your waist, her heels digging into your lower back, urging you on.

"Fuck, yes," Rosé gasps, her hands sliding up your back, nails scratching slightly. "Just like that. Hard and deep."

You establish a punishing rhythm, your hips snapping forward with force that makes the bed shake beneath you. Each thrust pushes Rosé deeper into the mattress, and she's making these desperate little sounds with every impact. Her pussy is incredibly wet, making obscene squelching sounds every time you bottom out inside her, and the sensation is driving you wild.

"Look at you two," Mia says from her position on the bed next to you, still lazily playing with herself as she watches. "So into each other. It's beautiful, really. All that pining finally paying off."

"Shut up for a second, Mia," Rosé manages to say between moans.

"No, I don't think I will," Mia responds with a laugh. "I'm enjoying this too much. Watching him fuck you stupid. Watching you fall apart on his cock. This is exactly what I trained him for."

You lean down and capture Rosé's lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing her moans. Your tongue explores her mouth while your cock continues its relentless assault on her pussy. When you pull back, you move to her neck, kissing and biting at the sensitive skin there, marking her the way you marked Mia earlier.

"Oh God," Rosé whimpers, her head tilting to give you better access to her throat. "That feels so good. Everything feels so good."

"Tell him what you want," Mia encourages, her fingers still working between her own legs. "Tell him exactly what you need."

"Faster," Rosé pants, her nails digging harder into your back. "I need you to fuck me faster. I'm so close already."

You increase your pace, your hips moving in a blur. The physical exertion is intense - you're already tired from holding Rosé up earlier, from fucking Mia before that, from everything that's happened tonight - but you push through it. The need to make Rosé cum, to feel her pussy clenching around your cock as she falls apart, is stronger than any exhaustion.

"That's it," Mia says, moving closer so she can touch both of you. Her hand slides down Rosé's body, finding her clit and rubbing it in quick circles. "Let him fuck you. Let him make you cum. He's so good at it now. I trained him so well."

Rosé practically screams at the added stimulation, her back arching off the bed. Her pussy tightens around your cock, getting even wetter, and you know she's close. You can read the signs now after all your training with Mia - the way her breathing changes, the way her muscles tense, the way her walls start fluttering around you.

"I can feel how close you are," you tell her. "Your pussy is gripping me so tight. You're going to cum for me, aren't you?"

"Yes," Rosé gasps. "So close. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

"Look at the man you've become," Mia purrs, her fingers still moving on Rosé's clit. "Making her feel so good. Look at her face. Look at how desperate she is for you."

You look down at Rosé and the sight nearly undoes you. Her face is flushed, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open as she moans continuously. There's a tear tracking down her cheek from the intensity of it all, and she's never looked more beautiful.

"Open your eyes. I want you to look at me when you cum."

Rosé's eyes flutter open, meeting yours. You can see everything in her gaze - the pleasure, the desperation, the affection, maybe even something deeper.

"I'm going to cum," Rosé whimpers. "Oh God, I'm going to cum so hard."

"Then cum for me," you growl, angling your hips to hit that spot deep inside her that you know drives women crazy from your training. "Cum on my cock. Show me how good I make you feel."

That's all it takes. Rosé's entire body goes rigid beneath you, her pussy clamping down on your cock like a vice, and then she's cumming. She screams your name, her nails raking down your back hard enough to definitely leave marks. Her pussy pulses around your cock in rhythmic contractions, and you can feel her getting even wetter, her arousal coating your cock and dripping down your balls.

"That's it," Mia encourages, still rubbing Rosé's clit to draw out the orgasm. "Look at you, cumming so hard for him. I told you he'd be good."

You don't stop moving. You fuck Rosé through her orgasm, maintaining that hard, deep rhythm even as she's shaking and trembling beneath you. Her pussy is so sensitive now that every thrust makes her whimper, but she doesn't tell you to stop. Instead her legs tighten around you, keeping you close, and she pulls your face down to kiss you desperately.

"Keep going," Rosé gasps against your mouth. "I want you to cum. I want to feel you cum inside me."

You increase your pace even more, chasing your own orgasm now, using her pussy for your pleasure. Mia moves her hand away from Rosé's clit and instead slides it down to feel where you're joined, her fingers touching your cock as it slides in and out of Rosé's pussy.

"Fill her up. Give her that creampie she wants. Pump her full of your cum just like you did to me."

"Please," Rosé begs, her hands moving to your ass, pulling you deeper with each thrust. "I need it. I need to feel you cum inside me."

Your orgasm is building rapidly, that familiar pressure in your core becoming impossible to ignore. Every thrust into Rosé's tight, wet heat is pushing you closer to the edge. Your balls are drawing up tight, and you can feel the pleasure coiling at the base of your spine.

"I'm going to cum," you warn, your rhythm becoming erratic. "I'm going to fill you up."

"Yes, do it," Rosé urges. "Cum inside me. I want all of it."

You slam into her one final time, burying yourself as deep as possible, and then you're cumming. Your cock pulses inside her as wave after wave of cum shoots into her pussy, filling her up. The orgasm is intense, maybe even more intense than the one you had with Mia, and it seems to go on forever. Your whole body shakes with it, pleasure radiating from your core through every nerve ending.

"Fuck, yes," Rosé moans, her pussy clenching around you as she feels you filling her. "I can feel it. So much cum. It's so warm."

Mia's still touching where you're joined, and you can feel her fingers getting coated with the mixture of your cum and Rosé's arousal as it starts to leak out around your cock. "Look at that," she says with satisfaction. "Another perfect creampie. You're getting really good at those."

You collapse onto Rosé, your muscles finally giving out, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. She wraps her arms around you, holding you close, and you can feel her heart racing against your chest. Your cock is still inside her, slowly softening, and every few seconds her pussy gives a little aftershock clench that makes both of you gasp.

"That was incredible," Rosé breathes, her hands running up and down your back soothingly. "You're incredible. I can't believe how good that was."

"Told you," Mia says smugly. "All that training paid off. He's perfect now."

You finally pull out of Rosé with a wet sound, and immediately a stream of cum follows, leaking out of her well-fucked pussy and onto the sheets. Mia leans over to get a better look, spreading Rosé's pussy lips open with her fingers to see the mess inside.

"Beautiful," Mia declares. "Just beautiful. You're both covered in cum and sweat and absolutely wrecked. This is exactly how a good threesome should end."

"End?" Rosé asks, looking up at you with a mischievous smile. "Who said anything about ending? You're still hard, aren't you?”

"I like your enthusiasm," Mia says with a grin, pushing herself up to sit cross-legged on the bed. "You're both insatiable."

Rosé stretches languidly, your cum still leaking out of her pussy as she moves. "I think we should end things in a very... collaborative way… Something that involves both of us working together."

"Oh, I think I know exactly what you're talking about," Mia says, eyes lighting up with understanding and excitement. "And I'm absolutely here for it."

She slides off the bed and stands, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, get up. We need you standing for this."

You let her pull you to your feet, your legs slightly unsteady from all the exertion but managing to hold you upright. Your cock is still mostly hard despite having just cum, responding to the promise in both women's expressions. They position themselves in front of you, both dropping to their knees on the plush hotel carpet, and the sight of them kneeling before you like that is enough to get you fully erect again.

"Look at that," Rosé says appreciatively, her eyes level with your cock. "Still hard and ready. Mia wasn't kidding about the stamina."

"Told you," Mia replies, reaching out to wrap her hand around your shaft. "He's a machine. We could go all night if we wanted to."

Rosé's hand joins Mia's, both of them stroking you together, their fingers intertwining around your cock as they work in tandem. The dual sensation is incredible - two different grips, two different rhythms that somehow sync up perfectly. They're looking up at you with identical expressions of lust and mischief, and you feel like the luckiest person alive.

"Ready?" Mia asks Rosé, and when Rosé nods, Mia guides your cock toward her mouth.

Rosé parts her lips and takes you inside, her tongue immediately going to work swirling around your tip. The wet heat of her mouth is exquisite, and she takes you deeper, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks. When she pulls off, Mia immediately takes her turn, engulfing your cock in her mouth and taking you even deeper, her nose nearly touching your pelvis as she deepthroats you with ease.

They establish a rhythm - Rosé takes you deep while Mia licks and sucks at your balls, then they switch. Their mouths work your cock and balls with enthusiasm, covering everything in saliva. Occasionally their heads bump together as they both try to lick the same spot, and they giggle at the collision but don't stop. The sound of their laughter mixed with the wet, obscene sounds of their mouths on you fills the room.

"Fuck, that feels amazing," you groan, your hands moving to their heads, threading through Rosé's hair and Mia's hair simultaneously.

"We know," Mia says when she pulls off to breathe, her hand still stroking you. "That's the point. We want you to feel so good you explode all over us."

Rosé takes you back in her mouth, and this time you grip her hair tighter and thrust forward. Your cock slides into her throat, and she gags slightly but doesn't pull away, letting you use her mouth. Her eyes water but there's pleasure in them too, and when you finally pull back to let her breathe, she's smiling.

"Do that to me too," Mia demands, opening her mouth wide.

You grip her hair and thrust into her mouth, your cock sliding past her tongue and into her throat. She takes it like a champ, her throat convulsing around you, and when you pull out she's grinning wickedly. "Harder next time," she says.

They continue their double assault on your cock, and it's mesmerizing to watch. Sometimes they lick up opposite sides of your shaft simultaneously, their tongues occasionally meeting at the top. Sometimes one of them deepthroats you while the other sucks your balls into her mouth. Sometimes they kiss each other with your cock between their lips, their tongues sliding against each other and against you at the same time.

Saliva is dripping down your cock, down your balls, coating their chins and necks. It's absolutely filthy and incredibly hot. Mia takes you deep again, her throat relaxing to accommodate your length, and she holds you there for several seconds before pulling off with a gasp, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cock.

"Your turn," she says to Rosé, and Rosé immediately takes you in, matching Mia's deepthroat. You thrust into her mouth, fucking her face with increasing intensity, and she takes it all, her hands gripping your thighs for support.

When you pull out of Rosé's mouth, both women are looking up at you with flushed faces and messy, saliva-covered chins. Their breasts are heaving with their breathing, and you can see how turned on they are by doing this together.

"We're going to make you cum so hard," Rosé promises, her hand wrapping around your slick shaft and stroking.

"All over our faces," Mia adds, her hand joining Rosé's. "We want you to cover us in cum. Mark us. Show us how much you enjoyed tonight."

They work together, both hands stroking your cock frantically while they lean in close, their faces right next to your cock. Occasionally one of them darts in to lick your tip or suck on your balls, but mostly they focus on the handjob, working in perfect synchronization to drive you toward orgasm.

"I'm getting close," you warn, the pleasure is building rapidly, that pressure in your core becoming impossible to ignore.

"Yes," Rosé hisses, stroking faster. "Cum for us. We want it so badly."

"Give us everything," Mia demands, her hand twisting on the upstroke in that way she knows you love. "Every drop. We deserve it after making you feel this good."

"Please cum on our faces," Rosé begs. "We need it. We need your cum all over us."

"Mark us like the whores we are," Mia says. “Show us who we belong to. Cover us in your cum until we're dripping with it."

Their words combined with their frantic stroking pushes you right to the edge. You can feel your orgasm approaching, unstoppable and overwhelming. Your balls draw up tight, your cock throbs in their combined grip, and then you're there.

"I'm cumming," you groan, and then you explode.

The first rope of cum shoots out and hits Mia right across the bridge of her nose and her cheek. The second hits Rosé, painting a line from her forehead down across her eye and onto her cheek. They both moan in satisfaction but don't stop stroking, milking your cock for everything it has. The third and fourth ropes hit both of them, coating their faces in white. You keep cumming, more than you've ever cum before, rope after thick rope of cum shooting out and covering them.

Mia sticks her tongue out, catching some of your cum in her mouth, and Rosé follows her lead. They're both making these desperate, hungry sounds as your cum hits their faces, their tongues, their breasts. It's running down their chins, dripping onto their chests, getting in their hair. They look absolutely debauched, covered in your cum, and they're loving every second of it.

"So much," Rosé gasps, her hand still stroking you even as your orgasm starts to subside. "There's so much cum."

"I told you," Mia says proudly, her face absolutely painted with white. "He's a walking cum factory. Look at us. We're completely covered."

They finally stop stroking when you're completely spent, when the last weak drops of cum have dribbled out onto their hands. They sit back on their heels, both of them covered in your cum from forehead to chest, and they look at each other and start giggling.

"We look ridiculous," Rosé says, wiping some cum from her eye so she can see better.

"We look hot as fuck," Mia corrects, using her fingers to scoop up some of your cum from her cheek and spreading it down her neck and onto her breasts like lotion. "This is exactly how we should look after a good threesome."

Rosé follows Mia's lead, rubbing your cum into her skin, spreading it across her breasts and down her stomach. "This is actually kind of nice," she muses. "Like a really expensive moisturizer."

"The best moisturizer," Mia agrees, still spreading your cum around on her body. "Nothing beats fresh cum for skincare."

You're standing there watching them, completely spent, your cock finally softening for real this time. Your legs feel like jelly, and you're pretty sure you've never been this tired in your entire life, but you also feel incredibly satisfied. Everything you've been working toward, everything you've been hoping for, just happened. You had a threesome with Mia and Rosé. You made both of them cum multiple times. You covered them in your cum. It's almost too much to process.

"So," Mia says, looking up at you with a satisfied smile despite her cum-covered face. "I think we can officially say that my matchmaking services were successful. You two finally have a real connection."

"Definitely," Rosé agrees, reaching up to wipe some cum from her face with her finger and then sucking it clean. "This was definitely a great way to start something new. I've wanted to be with you for a while, but I was never sure if you felt the same way. And now I know."

"You wanted to be with me?"

"Obviously," Rosé says with a laugh. "Did you think I just casually invite sound techs to my hotel room after shows? That doesn’t happen even in the most ridiculous fanfics. I've been working up the courage to make a move for weeks."

"I can't believe I helped both of you idiots finally get together," Mia declares, wiping some cum from her eyes. "I'm officially the best cupid ever. You're both welcome, by the way."

"Thank you, cupid Mia," Rosé says teasingly. "We couldn't have done it without your matchmaking skills. And your training program."

"Damn right you couldn't have," Mia responds. "Now someone help me get to the shower. We're both covered in cum and it's starting to get sticky."

The three of you make your way to the bathroom, stumbling slightly from exhaustion and satisfaction, leaving a trail of cum drips on the hotel carpet (the housekeeping staff will definitely have questions about those stains in the morning, but that's tomorrow's problem).

As you wash each other off in the large shower, the three of you laughing and touching and already planning the next time you can do this, you realize that everything you've been working toward has finally come together in the most perfect, messy, incredible way possible; thanks to Mia, of all people.

“Unfortunately.” You set your things down and look over at him with a long sigh to convey your exhaustion.

“Dude, same,” he groans, tossing his bag on the floor before flopping down on his bed. “I don't think I've ever been so fucking tired in my life. Why did I pursue higher education again?”

That gets you to laugh a little. “Maybe for some kind of high-paying job and… a sense of accomplishment?” you suggest.

He lets out another groan, rolling over on his side. “But at what fucking cost? Sleep deprivation and a caffeine addiction?” He looks at you with wide, pleading eyes. “Remind me why I'm doing this again.”

You get up and walk over to his bed, sitting down on the edge next to him, a playful smile on your face. “Well, I seem to recall someone who said they wanted to be some hot shot computer engineer.”

He props himself up on one elbow to face you. “Ooh, you think I'm hot?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

You give him a look that hopefully conveys how much of an idiot you think he is. “Hot shot, dumbass.” 

…Still, it would be dishonest to disagree: your roommate is attractive. Anyone with a working set of eyes can see that.

“Ohh, I see. You think I'm hot shit?”

You roll your eyes so far back it almost hurts. “As if you don't hear that enough.”

He grins, clearly amused and clearly not above shamelessly fishing for compliments. “Oh, but it's so much more fun to hear it from you,” he teases, leaning back against his pillow.

You give him a withering glare but he just reaches out and pats the spot next to him on the bed. “Come sit down.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “I am literally sitting down.”

“Okay, well, closer, genius.”

You sigh exaggeratedly, but you humor him anyway, scooting over closer to where he's lounging on the bed. You thought that was enough, but this is Felix, and you should have known better. He reaches out and grabs your wrist, gently but firmly tugging you down next to him.

He shifts so he's on his side facing you and grins, clearly satisfied. His hair is messy and there's a hint of dark circles under his eyes, but he still manages to look unfairly attractive.

You shake your head at his antics and let out a long sigh. “Well… You've already made it this far, you know,” you tell him. “Only a few months left of dealing with school, and then you're done.”

“...Yeah.”

He's quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting across your face, a hint of something almost like melancholy in his eyes.

“Why am I kinda sad, though?” he finally asks with a chuckle.

You blink. “Sad? About being done with school?”

He nods. “I mean, I want to be done, god, believe me I do, but…” He blows out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I dunno, it just doesn't feel as good as I expected it to. And I'm…” He pauses, clearly thinking his words over.

“I'm… gonna miss this, honestly. A lot.”

“This?” You gesture around the room. "You're going to miss this? Our tiny-ass, overpriced apartment?"

He laughs at that. “Not this place, I guess.”

“Then? The constant lack of sleep? Exams? The shitty cafeteria food?”

“Please,” Felix scoffs before taking a deep breath, looking somewhere behind you. “I'm… going to miss this." He looks back at you and pokes your shoulder for emphasis. “This. Us living together. Hanging out all the time. I'm going to miss that.”

You blink, a little taken aback at his earnestness. “Oh,” you say intelligently. “Yeah. I…”

You try to ignore the way your heart is suddenly in your throat. In truth, you've been doing your best not to think about it, how things will inevitably change after graduation.

“I mean…” you start. “It's not like we're never going to see each other again or something. We'll keep in touch, right?” But even as you say it, you feel yourself deflating. It’s not the same.

His expression reflects yours, his smile soft but a little sad around the edges. “...Of course we will.” He sounds like he's saying it as much to himself as he is to you. 

He's silent for another moment, his fingers gently running over the blanket, not quite meeting your gaze.

“It won't… be the same though,” he says, mirroring your own thoughts. “Like— you know? I'm gonna miss the convenience store we always go to at 2AM, I'm gonna miss our late-night study sessions and the shitty coffee you make, I'm gonna miss how you always use up the hot water in the shower and your annoying alarm waking me up at fuck-ass in the morning—” He suddenly cuts off, a flush rising in his cheeks.

He turns on his back again, slinging an arm over his eyes. “Ugh, I don't know, just shut up and let me wallow in my feelings.”

You're honestly a little speechless. All that, things he claims are annoying — he's going to miss it all that much?

“Hey,” you say gently, nudging his shoulder. “Hey, you sap, look at me.”

“No. I'm wallowing.”

You roll your eyes. “I can see that.” You poke his arm. Then again, harder. “Come on, look at me.”

Felix huffs dramatically, lowering his arm and turning his head to look at you from the corner of his eye. “What? I’m looking.”

Your heart clenches at the sight of him. He's pouting, looking a little petulant but still so endearingly cute, and you can definitely see the hint of embarrassment in his gaze as he peeks at you.

You let a smile spread across your face. “You're gonna miss me.”

Felix averts his gaze, his cheeks going a little pinker. “I mean, a little, I guess,” he mumbles, before letting out a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Ugh, why are you looking at me like that? Don't let it go to your head or anything.”

It's so obvious that it's more than just a little — but you decide not to call him out on it. Instead, you lean forward, propping yourself up with one arm. “Too late,” you tease, grinning widely. “You're gonna miss me so much.”

He groans, throwing his forearm over his eyes again. "Whatever. Shut up.”

You look at him silently for a moment, taking in his flushed face and his messy hair. God, he's so cute. You've always been aware of how pretty he is, but there's something about seeing him like this, completely unguarded and vulnerable, that's making your lungs feel tight.

You clear your throat awkwardly, shifting your gaze away from him. “Hey, come on, cheer up.”

“No,” he says, still hiding his face behind his arm. “I'll just lay here and wallow and die."

“So dramatic,” you chide, poking his side roughly, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. You're starting to feel a little flustered too.

He whines at the contact, swatting at your hand, but you notice he hasn't moved his other arm away from his face. “Ow, hey, violence,” he complains, curling away from your fingers. “Ow, ow, dude—”

You reach out and grab his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. He lets out a half-hearted protest, but doesn’t get the chance to resist.

Oh. His eyes are shining.

You freeze. 

He's pouting again, but it's less childish now and more vulnerable, embarrassed. For a moment you just sort of stare, suddenly hyper-aware of how close the two of you are. His face is so close, so pretty, and your heart is doing something strange, beating rapidly in your chest.

“You’re—” You clear your throat, struggling with what to say. You… hadn’t realized how much this was impacting him.

He looks away and blinks hard, but his eyes are still a bit misty, unshed tears stubbornly sticking to his eyelashes. “Sorry. I'm being stupid,” he finally says, his voice a little quiet. “Ignore me, I'm just being weird, it's—” He swallows. “...I'm tired.”

Oh, god. You've been joking and teasing and making fun, but now you just feel like the biggest jerk, because he's actually really upset about this.

“Wait, no,” you murmur, suddenly serious. “No, it’s not— You're not being stupid. I—” You're having a lot more trouble than usual forming coherent sentences.

Your hand is still around his wrist, your fingers pressing against his pulse point. You squeeze it lightly. “It's okay.” You can feel the rapid beating of his heart, in contrast to the rest of him lying completely still. “It's not stupid. I’m— I'm gonna miss you too, idiot.”

He lets out a wet sounding laugh at that, rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t pull his arm away from your grip. “So mean,” he says. “Do you have to insult me to say nice things?”

“Well, yeah.”

The corners of his mouth twitch and you feel a bit of relief that you've managed to cheer him up a little.

“But you mean it?” He looks up at you with a shy expression. “You're gonna miss me?”

“Of course,” you say, suddenly struck by how much you mean it. “Yeah, I am. A lot.”

He lets out a low breath, eyes flicking over your face. “Yeah?” he says quietly. 

It's silent for a moment. Felix is still looking at you, a little shyly, and it's driving you a little crazy. He sighs, his brow pinched slightly, like he’s struggling with some internal conflict. You wait patiently, giving him space to express what he wants to say.

But he doesn't. Just averts his eyes and blinks harshly at the wall behind you.

“Please don't cry or I'll start crying too,” you say with a bit of a nervous laugh.

Felix lets out a shaky breath. “...I’m not going to cry.”

You give him a look. 

“I’m not,” he insists, using his free hand to rub his eyes. “I have allergies or something, I just— I—”

He hesitates, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. 

“Okay, look,” he sits up, pulling his wrist free from your grip and taking a deep breath. “It's just— I…” He stops, running a hand through his hair nervously. 

“Felix?” you ask, sitting up too. You're starting to get a little concerned. Why is the mood suddenly so weird?

He groans, burying his face in his hands, his voice muffled when he speaks. “This is embarrassing.”

It doesn't help your concern. “What’s embarrassing?” you ask carefully, trying to keep your voice steady.

“This,” he mutters, still hiding his face.

You hesitate a moment, not really knowing what to do, before tentatively reaching out and touching his arm. “Um… It's fine, you can talk to me.”

He lets out a frustrated breath before finally looking at you. “You’re not gonna like it.”

Oh. “Well… Did you… like, kill someone or something?”

Felix stares at you for a moment, clearly trying to keep a straight face but his lips twitch a little. “No, I didn’t kill anyone, you psychopath,” he says dryly.

“Okay, well, good,” you say, clearing your throat. “No illegal activities? The government isn't after you?”

“I… No,” he says slowly.

This conversation is taking a bizarre turn. “And you're not, like… secretly an alien sent to spy on humans this whole time? And… now you have to return to your home planet to plot the annihilation of Earth?”

That finally gets Felix to laugh. “You're— you're a fucking idiot,” he says through giggles. “Seriously.”

“I’m just checking,” you say, crossing your arms. “You're being all weird and shit and…” you gesture vaguely. “Maybe you're an alien. I don't know.”

That only sets him off giggling again. “Oh my god,” he says, leaning his forehead on your shoulder, his body shaking with laughter. “Why are you so dumb.”

You roll your eyes, just relieved to see him smile. He's much more relaxed now, the mood in the room lifted with his laughter. All part of your plan. You're more than happy to appear ridiculous if it means seeing him laugh.

He finally stops laughing, though he’s still smiling a little as he lifts his head and looks at you. He’s much closer than you anticipated, and you try not to be too distracted by the freckles around his eyes and the way his eyelashes flutter when he blinks as his gaze flicks across your face. He’s looking at you intently, and the air in the room feels charged, electric almost.

“You…” he starts, but hesitates, cutting himself off with a shake of his head. “Why are you so dumb,” he repeats.

Wow. “Now who's being mean?” you pout.

He laughs again, but it’s softer than before, a shaky, nervous sound. “God, I— this is so stupid, I—”

He lets out a frustrated breath, staring directly into your eyes, his expression intense and focused. “How do you not notice,” he mutters under his breath.

You’re frozen under his gaze, your heart suddenly in your throat. “Notice… what?”

Felix closes his eyes. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

What? “It seems like it matters since you’re…”

He opens his eyes again, looking a bit pained as he looks at you. “Just… just forget it.”

You don’t know what to say. You can feel your heart beating wildly in your chest, your hands shaking slightly. “Uh… okay,” you say. “Sorry for… being dumb…?”

He grimaces. “No, I didn't mean it like—”

He lets out a long, heavy breath, shaking his head. Then he reaches out and takes your hand, his fingers brushing against your wrist.

His voice is quieter when he speaks, looking down, idly playing with your fingers. “Just… you’re supposed to notice,” he mumbles, almost to himself. “It’s supposed to be obvious.”

You stare at him, confused and flustered and… honestly, a little distracted by how he's touching your hand. “What's… uhh, what?” Everything feels like it's too much all of a sudden, and your chest is really starting to do something weird.

He sighs. “Nevermind. Seriously.”

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. “When we graduate,” he starts. “...Which I guess is really soon, huh.”

The way he says it makes your chest pang painfully. He’s still not looking at you. “I won’t see you anymore…” he murmurs, his voice so quiet you can barely hear him.

You grab his hand, stopping him from fiddling with your fingers, and squeeze gently. “Hey,” you say. “C’mon, it’s not like that.”

He huffs out a bitter laugh. “Isn't it, though?”

It kind of feels like you’ve been punched in the gut. This isn't like him, he's usually the one full of sunshine and optimism, reassuring you. But right now, the defeat in his voice is palpable.

The reality of the situation starts sinking in. Time’s almost up.

“Felix,” you say quietly, and he finally lifts his eyes up from his lap to look at you. His eyes are watery again.

He swallows, his voice breaking a little as he speaks. “Sorry, I’m being… I’m being unfair, I just…” He hesitates before continuing. “I don’t want to not see you.”

You frown, tears pricking your eyes now too. You don't trust your voice to speak, throat feeling tight and uncomfortable.

“And you’re just… so oblivious,” he continues, his finger tracing over your knuckles. “So stubborn, and dumb, and you’re probably the most annoying person I’ve ever met in my life and I seriously cannot believe I like—”

He cuts off suddenly, slapping a hand over his mouth.

Wait.

“Felix,” you murmur, and his eyes dart up to meet yours, a little panicked. He tries to jerk his hand away from yours, but you hold on tighter, keeping him in place.

“Felix,” you repeat, your skin buzzing from the way he’s looking at you. “You can’t just… leave me hanging like that.”

He looks away, face a brilliant crimson red. “Yeah, I can.”

You almost want to laugh. You didn’t realize he could be so shy, but you can’t focus on that now, because your heart is racing and you can’t tell if you’re going to pass out, or pass away.

“No, you can’t,” you say shakily. “When are you gonna tell me? At the commencement ceremony?”

He lets out a half-choked, almost hysterical sort of laugh, keeping his head turned away so he doesn’t have to look at you. “Yeah, something like that.”

He has to be joking. “That’s months away!”

“And?”

You shake your head, feeling dizzy. “I’m not gonna wait that long, are you insane?”

He huffs and glares at you, pouting. “Oh, well I’m sorry, would you just rather I shout it from the fucking roof tops then? Hey, everyone, I’ve been in love with my best friend since freshman year!”

What.

You blink, stunned speechless, your eyes wide. 

Your mind is spinning, the air in the room suddenly too thick to breathe. The words in love keep ringing in your ears, over and over again.

“You— you what?” you manage to get out, feeling a little faint. You must not have heard him correctly. You're hallucinating, or having a stroke or… something. He can't actually mean—

Felix winces. “...Fuck.” he mutters, dropping his head into his hands.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, brain still struggling to catch up to the situation. You’re still processing that he said the word love, when the last few words register.

“Wait— freshman year?” you say incredulously. “You’ve— since—?”

He’s clearly trying to act somewhat composed but the bright red on his ears betrays him. “Um. Yeah. Shut up. Stop talking,” he says, voice muffled from behind his hands.

You think about the past few years of your life, every interaction with him, and it’s like everything suddenly clicks into place.

The way his ears turn pink whenever you compliment him. The way you could always get under his skin so easily. You think about every time he got defensive, or huffy, or pouty at something innocuous you did or said.

…The way he's never really shown interest in anyone, despite the plenty of interest shown his way. The countless people he's turned down, for seemingly no reason. When you'd questioned him about it, he'd just laughed awkwardly and said he preferred to focus on his studies.

“Oh my god,” you say again.

Felix groans and hides his face further, his ears practically on fire. “Stop. Don't,” he mutters. “It's okay. Just… pretend you never heard that, okay, it's fine—”

“No.”

It’s silent for a moment, Felix still hiding his face, and your mind still swirling with thoughts. 

You kind of want to kiss him.

The realization is sudden, but not entirely unexpected. It’s not really a surprise, honestly, just another thing that feels natural. Maybe because deep down, of course somewhere along the line you've developed feelings for the person you can trust with anything, who gets you more than anyone else. Your favorite person in the world.

You’re only half in your right mind as you grab his wrists, pulling his hands off of his face.

“You ass,” you say, staring directly at him.

He looks at you with wide, panicked eyes. “I'm sorry—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Can I kiss you?” 

He chokes, eyes going even wider. He opens his mouth, then closes it, clearly caught off guard. After a moment, he manages to find his voice, though it’s very high pitched and shaky. “What?”

You take a deep breath. “Can I kiss you,” you repeat, your head feeling fuzzy, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“…What?” he asks again. His face is bright red. “Are— are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” you murmur, leaning even closer, your faces almost touching.

His breath catches, and his eyes dart between your eyes and your lips. “Please say you’re not,” he manages to say, voice breaking.

“I’m not,” you say, feeling a little crazy. Insane, maybe. You can’t really bring yourself to care. “Can I?”

He doesn't give you an answer, letting out an incredulous breath before grabbing the front of your shirt and yanking you forward as he falls back so you land on top of him.

You’re about to protest at the continued lack of a clear answer, but then he’s kissing you and you forget how to speak.

It's not the most graceful kiss, you’re both a little clumsy, but it’s sweet and it’s Felix and that’s all that really matters. You figure it out quickly, getting into a rhythm, and he lets out a shaky breath against your mouth, his hand moving to tangle in your hair. You feel like you’re dreaming, or drowning, or both.

Felix is kissing you. Felix is kissing you. Your closest friend. He’s in love with you, and he’s kissing you.

It makes your head spin. After several moments, you finally pull away, panting and dizzy. You feel a little delirious, staring down at him, both of you catching your breath.

His head falls back against the pillow, face turning impossibly red as he blinks at you like he’s in shock. You laugh a little and he huffs, but his eyes soften.

“So… you, uh— You— Are you—?”

You cut him off with another touch of your lips, effectively shutting him up. He instantly melts into it, tightens his grip in your hair, pulling you further into the kiss, and you can’t think straight, everything is just Felix. 

After a while, you’re forced to break away again for air. Felix whines at the loss of contact, eyes half-lidded, his cheeks flushed. You only manage to get a few breaths in before he's pulling you down into another kiss, more urgently this time.

You let out a surprised noise, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He seems to be determined to kiss you senseless, and it’s working. 

He bites your bottom lip, making you gasp into his mouth. He mumbles something in response, his thigh sliding between your legs, and your brain short-circuits.

Okay. You shiver. Okay. You should probably… You manage to pull away for a much needed breath and Felix tries to chase after your mouth, but you press a hand to his chest to hold him in place.

He groans, looking frustrated, but flops back against the pillow obediently. He blinks at you dazedly, his own chest heaving, eyes half-lidded and dark, but his expression quickly morphs into a pout. “Why… Why…?” he complains, trying to tug you closer again.

You huff a weak laugh, shaking your head, and he gives you a wide-eyed look, all innocence and sweetness, and that's not fair that he can look like this after all of that.

“Just— one sec,” you somehow get out, your mind still completely overloaded. “We should… uh…”

He’s still trying to reach your mouth. “What,” he mutters, breathing heavily against your neck.

“Talk,” you manage to say, even as his lips make their way to your jaw. “We should… we need to… oh my god—”

You cut off, stifling a gasp as he sucks on your skin. “Felix,” you say, trying to be stern, but it comes out like a moan instead.

“Mm?” he hums against your ear, completely unapologetic. “You want to… talk?”

“Yeah.” It takes all your willpower to pull away, ignoring how he whines in protest. You sit up and take a moment to compose yourself, willing yourself to ignore the urge to just give in to him.

Felix flops back onto the bed, throwing his arm over his eyes as he sighs, his voice sounding a little raspy.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his ears red. “Sorry, god, I've thought about this so much, I just—”

Oh. “You’ve… thought about…? How much…?”

He makes a strangled noise and covers his face more thoroughly, voice muffled. “Oh my god,” he groans, “I'm going to fucking die. I… a lot.”

…Okay. Okay. Deep breaths. Okay.

“...How much is a lot?” you ask, unable to resist your curiosity. And maybe you want to tease him about it. Just a little.

He groans again. “So, so much. An embarrassing and pathetic amount.” He’s not even trying to hide his pouting. “Can you please not make me say the actual words.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, but the way he sounds — breathless and embarrassed — it’s honestly kind of adorable. He’s always so confident in most aspects of his life that you kind of love seeing him so flustered.

“Please… don’t,” he mumbles, peeking at you. “I’m begging you…”

He's blinking up at you, the picture of innocence once again. He glances up at you through his eyelashes, all pretty and delicate and ugh, he's absolutely doing this on purpose.

“You’re distracting,” you say weakly, staring down at him. “Stop making cute faces at me.”

He does not stop making cute faces. He tries though, lowering his hands as his face drops into a scowl. “I’m not making a cute face,” he protests.

“Yeah, you are,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “You’re doing it right now. Your pouty thing.”

He sniffs. “I'm not,” he says petulantly, though there’s a hint of mirth in his eyes. “This is just my regular face. It’s not my fault if my face is cute.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off with a finger, placing it over his lips. His mouth instantly snaps shut, and you can’t resist a little grin as he looks up at you with wide eyes. 

You watch as he swallows, his eyes fixed on you, and, not for the first time, you’re reminded of how pretty he is. He’s always been gorgeous, in an objective sort of way, but you feel like you’re seeing him for the first time.

You move your hand away and take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You need to talk about this while you’re both still somewhat coherent, or you’ll go absolutely insane.

“So…” You’re a little pleased with how steady your voice is, considering the circumstances. “You… love me.”

Felix coughs and covers his face again. “Do you have to say it like that,” he groans, his voice muffled by his palms.

“You never… you never said anything.” 

He just shrugs, still hiding his face. “I was scared to lose you,” he says with a shaky breath. “I didn’t expect you to want me back…” There's no bitterness in his tone, just disbelief.

You frown. “But you’re—” You bite your tongue. Felix was worried about you not wanting him?

You shake your head, a somewhat acrid feeling welling up inside of you. You've seen firsthand the sheer amount of attention he gets from people, from the random gifts and outright confessions and people slipping him numbers and notes everywhere he goes. There's never been a shortage of interest in him, from all sorts of people. Compared to him, you're… nothing.

“So… this whole time, you just… thought I was clueless?” You're still trying to wrap your head around it.

He sighs. “I mean, kind of,” he says, his eyes peeking through his fingers. “You’ve been completely oblivious to anyone who’s ever flirted with you.” 

Including me, he doesn't say, but you're starting to put the pieces together.

You wince, your face flushing. “I’m not that oblivious,” you protest weakly. “I just… I’ve never been particularly interested in… anyone.” 

Felix stares at you, one eyebrow raised.

“Like…” It's true that you've never really liked anyone very strongly in all your time at college. Some fleeting crushes here and there, but even the few people you had tried to go on dates with always felt lacking in some inexplicable way. You always felt much better as soon as you'd come home to your shared space with Felix, always feeling the most comfortable in his presence. Was that it? All this time, no one could ever compare to your best friend? 

And the constant attention Felix would get… It annoyed the hell out of you. At first, you would tease him, even encourage him to give them a chance, delight in the way his face would turn bright red. But it quickly became so annoying watching him have to navigate awkward conversations, politely turn people down. Sure, a part of you was probably a bit insecure always watching him receive so much attention. At least, that's what you told yourself. But beyond that, you think you're finally starting to understand the feeling for what it is.

Jealousy.

“Oh my god.” You’re starting to realize what a mess this entire situation is. “We're both idiots.”

Felix finally drops his hands from his face, giving you a dry look. “Speak for yourself.”

"Shut up," you say absently, not even annoyed. Your head is reeling.

This is… a mess. Felix is in love with you, you’re pretty sure the feeling has been mutual for a while, and you’re both leaving this place in just a few months. 

“So… you’ve never liked anyone before?” Felix asks. His tone is a bit teasing, though there's curiosity beneath.

You make a face. “Um.” Yeah, that's what you thought for the past couple years until now. How much do you reveal?

All of the puzzle pieces are clicking into place in your mind, making your head hurt even more. So much time wasted, you want to cry.

“I guess no one ever compared to you,” you say without thinking, and immediately slap your hand over your face.

“Oh.” There’s a second of silence as you both process the words.

Then, Felix starts laughing.

“Oh my god,” he mutters, struggling to contain himself, barely managing to keep his laughter under control. Your face is growing redder by the second, embarrassed and annoyed.

“Will you stop?” you whine.

“I’m sorry, I just—” he tries to get himself together, taking a deep breath before looking at you fondly. “This is the corniest fucking shit I've ever— holy shit. We're actually both stupid.”

“I told you,” you say, smacking him on the arm. 

He just snickers, grabbing your wrist before you can hit him again. He pulls you so you’re half-lying on top of him again, and you can feel his shoulders shaking as if he’s trying to keep from bursting out into another fit of laughter.

You let your head fall against his chest with a huff, still annoyed even as he wraps an arm around you, his hand rubbing against your back.

“You jerk,” you mutter.

He hums, sounding amused. “You love me.”

You go rigid, and he starts to laugh again, obviously enjoying the fact that he found an easy way to fluster you. 

“Shut up,” you grumble weakly, burying your face against him.

It isn't fair. He’s had time to fully realize it, years apparently. He’s had time to process everything. Meanwhile, you feel like you’ve been completely blindsided. 

He finally stops laughing and you’re both quiet for a few moments. You can hear his heart drumming loud in his chest.

“Wow,” he says suddenly. “We could have avoided a lot of stress if we realized earlier.”

You let out a snort of semi-hysterical laughter. “I know,” you agree, before pausing and wincing. “Oh god, I can't believe we've been… that we've been living together…”

“Yeeeahh… That's been torture by the way,” he says conversationally, as if he's discussing the weather, and your cheeks flare up. 

“...Torture?”

He squeezes your side. “Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself every day? Every time you wear my jacket, or… anything? Wearing those hoodies on movie nights—”

“I get it,” you cut him off, your face absolutely burning. “I get it, I’m—”

“Stupid?” he offers helpfully. “Oblivious? Cute?”

“...You never said anything,” you say weakly in an attempt to defend yourself.

“I wasn't going to make things awkward,” he protests. “Can you imagine if I’d actually said anything and you just… what? Said no? And then we have to keep living together like normal?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the guilt stirring in your stomach. You can’t even begin to imagine what it's been like from his perspective.

“...Sorry.” You shift so you can actually look at him, but he won’t meet your eyes, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he pouts.

“You really didn't notice?” he asks, finally looking at you. “Even a little?”

“No.” You feel a frustrated sort of laugh bubbling up. “We’ve been so stupid. We could’ve… we’ve wasted so much time, years—”

“Hey, hey,” he interrupts, seeing your expression, sitting up and gently placing his hand on your cheek, and you stop abruptly. “It doesn’t matter,” he says reassuringly. “We have time, okay? Plenty of time.”

You’re still struggling with the whole situation, trying to process everything as you stare at him. “But… we’re graduating.”

He gives you a small, unsure smile. “Yeah. We are.”

"And… I don't even know where I'm going. We could be—”

“Hey.” He cuts you off, placing a finger gently on your lips, and you bite your tongue, looking down at him. “Stop worrying so much. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

You try to take a deep breath and he leans forward until his forehead is touching yours. 

Your mind is still racing, your entire universe is completely tilted, and you’re not entirely sure how to deal with any of it. But Felix is close and his hand is still on your cheek and…

And you want to focus on that instead, ignore everything else for now.

“Yeah?” you say weakly, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little more firm, and he brings his other hand up to cup your face.

“For now,” he continues, his breath warm against your skin. “Let’s just…” He lets out an unsteady laugh, his hands still gently framing your face. “Can we just…”

Your entire body feels a little shaky. You lean forward a bit, closing the distance, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Yeah,” he breathes before slanting his mouth against yours.

It’s not very decorous. You’re both a little desperate, a little uncoordinated, trying to make up for years of lost time.

It’s messy and you can feel that he’s still a little nervous — as are you — but he's also determined. He pulls you closer, one of his hands sliding into your hair, tugging gently in a way that makes you gasp into his mouth.

Then he suddenly pulls back after a few moments, laughing when you whine pathetically in protest.

“Shh, hang on,” he says, slightly out of breath, and you open your eyes dizzily.

“...What?” you complain.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I… I just remembered that I…”

You watch, utterly befuddled, as he pushes against your shoulders so he can sit up. He gently lifts you off of him, answering your whine of protest with a quick kiss before his hand drifts away from your face, reaching for his phone.

You try to grab at him. “What are you doing—”

He laughs and dodges out of your reach. “Just gimme a second,” he says, turning his phone on as he settles back on the bed.

You sit there, feeling dazed and frustrated as he taps at his phone, his attention focused on the screen. After a few moments, he finally seems to finish what he’s doing, putting his phone down with a satisfied hum.

When he meets your eyes, he just looks amused at your expression. “Sorry, sorry,” he says with a grin, moving closer to you again.

“What was so important,” you pout.

“I was meant to meet with my group mates for our project tonight,” he says. “So, I told them I'm feeling sick.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Felix.”

He has the audacity to just smile innocently, already shifting so he can push you down against the sheets.

“What?” he says casually, hovering over you, his hands coming to rest on your waist. “I wasn't gonna be able to focus anyways.”

“Oh.” You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks again. “Is… that really okay…?”

“Don't worry,” he says, leaning down and pressing a light kiss into your neck. “I practically carry them anyway, they can live without me for one night.”

You swallow, feeling his hands slide up your arms, his touch leaving a trail of sparks along your skin. “Okay,” you agree, completely distracted now, your thoughts hazy.

“Mhm.” He sucks on a sensitive spot on your collarbone and you let out a shaky exhale. “Can we focus on something else right now?”

You nod. He moves up to kiss you and you know, with him, you'll figure out whatever comes next.

For now, that's enough.

—

a/n: me, a mech eng major.. ofc i had to make felix a fellow engineer. nerds 4 life (do not study engineering i crave death every moment)

also yes title is the coldplay song bc im actually uncreative as hell and name everything after songs. how do ppl come up with titles (T＿T) but anyway since it's one of felix's fav songs i thought it was especially fitting 🤍

tysm for reading 🫶