#gaeul x reader

The doors slide open and you step into the underground parking garage. You spot the silver sedan almost immediately, mostly because it's the shiniest thing in the entire lot, looking like it just rolled off a showroom floor yesterday. Which, knowing Gaeul mentioned she'd been car shopping last month, it probably did. You make your way over, hiking your messenger bag higher on your shoulder, and tap lightly on the passenger window before opening the door and sliding into the leather seat.

"Good morning."

Gaeul turns to you with that signature bright smile, her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail and her work blazer already on despite the early hour. She looks annoyingly awake for someone who has to deal with property listings and client calls all day, her eyes clear and alert where yours feel like they're filled with sand. "Morning! You look like death warmed over, by the way. And I mean that in the nicest possible way."

"Thanks, I appreciate the honesty." You buckle your seatbelt and sink back into the seat, which is admittedly really comfortable. New car smell fills your lungs as you take a deep breath. "Seriously though, thank you again for the ride. My car being in the shop this week has been a nightmare."

"Oh my god, stop thanking me, it's literally on my way." She waves her hand dismissively as she puts the car in reverse, checking her mirrors. "That's what friends are for. Besides, you've covered for me like a million times when I needed to duck out early. Consider this payback."

You hum in acknowledgment, watching the parking garage entrance approach as she navigates through the rows of vehicles. The real estate firm you both work for isn't glamorous by any stretch of the imagination. It's paperwork and phone calls and spreadsheets and the occasional property walkthrough that breaks up the monotony. But Gaeul makes the cubicle farm bearable with her relentless optimism and her habit of leaving snacks on your desk when she knows you've had a rough morning. She's one of those coworkers who actually became a real friend rather than just someone you nod at in the break room.

The car pulls into the pale gray light of early morning, the sun still so low that makes you want to crawl back into bed. You rest your head against the window as the city drifts past, storefronts and pedestrians melting together as you ride along.

"Okay, you're way too quiet over there. You need music." Gaeul glances at you with mild concern. "Something to wake you up. I've got really good playlists."

"Sure, whatever you want."

"Okay, give me a second." She reaches for her phone sitting in the center console, eyes darting between the road and the screen as she unlocks it. "I've been super into Paramore lately. Like, revisiting all their old stuff but also their newer albums? Hayley Williams is a goddess, I don't make the rules. Oh, wait, hold on." She taps at the screen a few times. "This car is brand new, like I just got it last week, and I'm still figuring out all the technology. There's so many functions. The Bluetooth situation is ridiculous, there's like eight different ways to connect and I can never remember which one I used last time. And the screen is huge which is cool but also overwhelming? Like I don't need a tablet-sized display just to change the temperature."

You watch her fumble with the phone, then glance at the road, then back at the phone. The car drifts slightly toward the center line and you feel your pulse tick up just a notch.

"Hey, hey, maybe focus on not crashing and deal with the music later."

"Oh please, that's literally impossible." She doesn't even look up from her phone, still scrolling through what looks like a music app. "I'm super attentive, I've never had an accident. I'm like the safest driver you know."

"You're literally not watching the road right now."

"I'm watching it with my peripheral vision, it's fine. Okay, I think I found it, let me just sync this and we should be good to..."

Whatever she was going to say gets swallowed by the sound that suddenly erupts from the car speakers.

It's not Paramore.

It's a moan. A very loud, very feminine, very unmistakably sexual moan that fills every inch of the car's interior with surround-sound clarity. The fancy speaker system that came with this fancy new car is doing its absolute best to make sure you hear every single breathy gasp and whimper in crisp, high-definition audio. And then the enormous center console screen flickers to life. It's a video. The angle is POV, shot from below, the camera clearly being held by someone lying on their back. And at the center of the frame, unmistakably, undeniably, is Gaeul. Her face is flushed, her hair loose and messy around her shoulders, her mouth open as another moan escapes her that matches perfectly with the one coming through the speakers. She's naked from what you can see, her body moving rhythmically, and the camera angle makes it very clear that she's riding something.

But the moans aren't just coming from her.

There's another feminine sound underneath hers, breathier and higher in pitch, and you realize with a jolt that the POV doesn't belong to a guy at all. Whoever is holding that camera, whoever Gaeul is currently fucking on that massive screen right in front of your face, is a woman. You catch a glimpse of slender hands gripping Gaeul's thighs, nails painted a pastel pink, and the motion of her hips combined with the angle makes it crystal clear that there's a strap-on involved. Gaeul's head tips back, her hands bracing on the other person's stomach for leverage as she rides harder, and the sound that comes out of her is absolutely filthy.

"Oh fuck," Gaeul says beside you. (The real Gaeul, the one driving, who has finally looked up from her phone.)

"Oh fuck," the Gaeul on the screen echoes, but in a very different context, her hips stuttering as she grinds down particularly hard.

You cannot move. You cannot speak. Your hand is frozen halfway to the volume dial and your brain has completely abandoned any attempt at rational thought because you are currently sitting in your coworker's brand new car at seven forty-five in the morning watching her get railed by another woman on a screen the size of a small television while the speakers blast every wet sound and desperate moan directly into your ears.

The video Gaeul shifts her angle, one hand reaching back to brace on her partner's thigh, and the new position puts everything on display. The way her chest heaves with each breath, the slight sheen of sweat on her skin, the visible tension in her stomach muscles as she works herself on the strap. The other woman says something encouraging that you can't quite make out, and Gaeul laughs breathlessly in response, and the laugh turns into another moan as she picks up the pace, and then mercifully, blessedly, the screen goes dark and the audio cuts off as real Gaeul finally manages to close out of whatever app had betrayed her so thoroughly.

Luckily, you’re lethargic enough not to have any over-the-top reaction to the situation.

"It's been a while since I listened to Paramore, but I gotta say, they're getting pretty experimental with these music videos."

Gaeul snorts, her eyes back on the road like nothing happened. "That was good. It feels like a scripted scene. Have you ever done stand up comedy?”

"No, but I'll consider a career change."

"Yeah, real estate is boring anyway." She adjusts her grip on the steering wheel, completely casual, not a hint of embarrassment in her posture. "Okay so that was my bad. I accidentally went into my gallery instead of the music app and it just auto-played whatever was open. Which was apparently that."

You nod slowly, still processing, still very aware of the phantom sounds echoing in your ears and the images that are now seared permanently into your brain.

"You probably want some context about the video."

"It's cool." You hold up a hand, trying to give her an out. "It's personal, you don't have to explain anything."

"No, it's fine, I don't mind." She shrugs casually. "I recorded it with a friend of mine. We hook up sometimes when we're both free and in the mood. It's nice to have these moments saved, you know? Mainly for masturbation purposes afterward."

You just nod.

"It's kind of narcissistic, I know." She laughs, completely unbothered. "But it's also very hot. Like, watching yourself is weird but also a massive turn-on? I don't know how to explain it. It just does something for me."

You are absolutely not sure what to say to that. Your coworker, your friend, the girl who brings you pastries from the bakery near her apartment and always remembers how you take your coffee, is casually discussing her masturbation habits at seven fifty in the morning while driving you to work. Your brain is struggling to reconcile friendly office Gaeul with the Gaeul you just watched getting fucked six ways from Sunday on a screen the size of a small tablet.

"Did you like it?" The question catches you off guard. You turn to look at her and she glances at you briefly before returning her attention to the road. "I mean, it's pretty amateurish." She continues when you don't immediately respond. "We're not professionals or anything. But the quality is pretty good, right? My friend recorded it on her new iPhone. That thing has an insane camera. And the audio sounded really good through the car speakers, I wonder if it's got Dolby Atmos or something. I should check the manual."

"It, uh." You swallow, trying to gather your scattered thoughts. "Yeah, it was... it's quite... hot?" You say more as a question than an opinion, but Gaeul beams at you anyway.

"Thanks! That's very kind of you to say." She seems genuinely pleased by the compliment, like you just told her you liked her new haircut. "I appreciate the honesty."

"You're... pretty chill about this stuff."

"About sex?" She tilts her head, considering. "Yeah, I guess I am. Why wouldn't I be? It's all just sex, you know? Everyone has sex. It's like the most natural thing in the world. I don't get why people are so weird and secretive about it. Like, we all know what goes on behind closed doors. Why pretend otherwise?"

"Fair point." You find yourself nodding along despite the surreal nature of this entire conversation. "It's pretty cool that you're so... liberal about it."

"Life's too short to be uptight about fucking,” she says. "Anyway, I hope I didn't make things awkward. Did you get turned on?" You turn your head towards her suddenly, eyes wide, your expression speaking for you. "Sorry, was that too direct? I just figured I should ask since I basically ambushed you with porn at eight in the morning. I didn't mean to get you all worked up before we have to go sit in an office for eight hours."

"I'm not..." You start to deny it, the automatic response of someone who has been conditioned to downplay any sexual reaction in polite company. "I'm not horny."

You know that didn't sound convincing, especially given the very obvious situation currently developing in your work pants. You shift slightly, trying to adjust without drawing attention to the problem, but Gaeul just raises an eyebrow at you.

"But you said you liked the video."

"I did, but that doesn't mean..."

"It was pretty explicit." She's fighting a smile now, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Like, objectively hot. Are you telling me you watched that whole thing and felt nothing? Because I call bullshit."

You sigh, accepting defeat. "Okay, fine. I might have gotten a little aroused. But it was involuntary. A natural physical response to visual and auditory stimuli. It doesn't mean anything."

"That's fair. For what it's worth, I got turned on too. Just from the audio, honestly. That day was soooo good." She draws out the word, sounding slightly dreamy. "My friend made me cum three times. Three! Back to back. I was basically useless for like an hour afterward. Just lying there like a starfish, completely brain-dead."

The mental image of that is not helping your current situation at all. You press your thighs together subtly, willing your body to calm the fuck down.

"She must be very good then. Your friend."

"Oh, she's incredible. Very generous, very attentive. Knows exactly what she's doing." Gaeul sighs happily at the memory. "Ten out of ten, would recommend. If you're ever looking for a good time with a woman who knows her way around a strap, I can give you her number."

You're not entirely sure if she's joking.

"Listen." She glances at you, then does a double-take, her eyes dropping to your lap for a split second before returning to the road. "Would you be willing to stop for a quick minute to fuck?"

The car swerves slightly as your brain completely short-circuits. "What?"

"I mean, I can see your bulge from here." She gestures vaguely in the direction of your crotch, as casual as if she were pointing out a nice building. "You must have a pretty nice dick based on that situation you've got going on. And I'm turned on now because talking about that day always gets me going. So I'm just saying, as an option, we could pull over somewhere discreet and take care of this before work."

“Yeah, thanks for noticing."

"You're welcome." She grins at you, completely unruffled. "It's good for self-esteem. Seriously though, you're horny, I'm horny, let's just help each other out and then head to work like normal. We'll still get there on time if we're quick about it."

You stare at her. She stares at the road. The proposal hangs in the air, absurd and matter-of-fact and somehow making perfect sense in the context of this absolutely insane morning.

The truth is: Gaeul is gorgeous. You've always known that, in an objective, coworker-you-shouldn't-think-about-that-way sense. She's petite and pretty with delicate features and a smile that lights up whatever room she's in. And now, knowing that underneath the professional blazers and sensible work shoes is a woman who films her hook-ups and watches them later, who talks about cumming three times with the same casualness as discussing the lunch, who apparently has no filter whatsoever when it comes to sex... it's doing something to you. Something significant. Something that's making your already uncomfortable pants situation exponentially worse.

"Okay,” you say quietly, and now there’s no turning back. She knows you want this just as much as she does. "Yeah. Let's... let's do that."

Gaeul's smile turns downright delighted. "Perfect."

She flicks on her turn signal (ever the attentive driver) and takes the next right, navigating down a side street and then another until she finds what she's apparently looking for: a small, secluded corner behind what looks like an abandoned warehouse, shielded from the main road by overgrown bushes and a crumbling brick wall. She pulls in, shifts the car into park, and turns off the engine.

She turns to look at you, her eyes bright, and you realize that this is actually happening. "Okay, let's begin." Gaeul says it like she's about to start a work presentation rather than have sex with you in the backseat of her car. She reaches for the climate controls, cranking up the air conditioning until cool air blasts through the vents. "Don't want us sweating too much and showing up to work looking like disasters. HR would have questions."

She shrugs off her blazer, folding it neatly and placing it on the front passenger seat with the kind of care that suggests she's done this before, or at least thought about the logistics. You follow her lead automatically, removing your own jacket and draping it over the headrest.

"Back seat,” Gaeul says to you. “More room to work with."

The transition from front to back is nothing short of comedic. Gaeul tries to slip between the seats and immediately gets her hip caught on the center console. You attempt to go around the other way and somehow manage to elbow her in the shoulder. There's a brief moment where you're both stuck in an awkward tangle of limbs, her knee in your ribs and your hand braced on the ceiling for balance, and she lets out a laugh that breaks through any remaining tension.

"This is so unsexy right now."

"We'll get there."

Eventually, through a combination of contortion and determination, you both make it to the backseat. The space is bigger than you expected for a sedan, probably one of those features she paid extra for without realizing it would come in handy for exactly this purpose. You settle against the door, one leg stretched across the seat and the other foot planted on the floor, and Gaeul considers the available positions with a critical eye.

"I'll just sit on your lap. Hold on." She swings one leg over your thighs and tries to settle, but the angle is wrong and she ends up sliding sideways. "Okay, that's not working. Help me?" Your hands find her waist, guiding her as she repositions, and after a few adjustments she manages to settle properly with her knees bracketing your hips and her weight resting comfortably against your thighs. She wiggles experimentally and nods, apparently satisfied. "There we go. Comfortable."

You're acutely aware of the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her work skirt, the way she's positioned directly over the bulge that hasn't subsided even slightly since that video started playing. If she notices (and she definitely notices), she doesn't comment on it.

"We should kiss first. Break the ice a little." Before you can respond, she leans in and presses her lips to yours.

The kiss starts tentative, like you're both testing the waters to see how this is going to work. Her lips are soft and taste faintly of the strawberry chapstick you've seen her apply at her desk a hundred times, and there's something incredibly strange about kissing someone whose mouth you've watched form spreadsheet formulas and client greetings and casual lunch conversation. But then she tilts her head, changing the angle, and her tongue traces along your lower lip in a way that makes your brain stop cataloging the weirdness and start focusing on how fucking good it feels.

Your hands slide up from her waist, fingers working at the buttons of her shirt. The fabric parts to reveal a simple nude-colored bra underneath, practical rather than fancy, the kind of thing you wear to work because you're not expecting anyone to see it. You push the shirt off her shoulders and she helps, shrugging out of it and tossing it vaguely in the direction of the front seats.

She's petite, just like you've always noticed, but seeing her like this is different from catching glimpses in professional attire. Her frame is delicate, her shoulders narrow, her chest modest beneath the thin material of her bra. You pull back from the kiss to look at her properly and she watches you with something like amusement, clearly comfortable being observed.

Your lips find her jaw, trailing a path of kisses down to her neck as your hands reach around to unhook her bra. The clasp gives way after a brief struggle (you've never been great at these things, but you manage) and she lets the straps slide down her arms until the bra drops away entirely.

Her breasts are small, barely a handful each, with pale pink nipples that are already starting to pebble in the cool air from the AC. You cup one gently, feeling the soft weight of it against your palm, and she sighs at the contact.

"You have perfect tits."

"Thanks, you're such a gentleman." The words are teasing but you can hear the genuine appreciation underneath. She reaches up to run her fingers through your hair as you continue mapping the curve of her breast with your hand. "I went out with this guy once who said I'd look better with implants. Can you believe that? Like, we'd been dating for maybe two months and he just casually drops that he thinks I should get surgery."

"What an asshole."

"Right? I mean, I'm not against cosmetic procedures in general, people should do whatever makes them feel good about themselves, but that's not for me. I think I’m just underrated in this society, you know? People just don’t get my appeal. But I like my natural body." She's still talking even as your thumb brushes over her nipple, her breath catching slightly before she continues: "It feels empowering, you know? Not conforming to what society says I should look like. Like, why should I change myself to fit some arbitrary standard that some random men decided was attractive? My body is my body and I think there's something radical about just accepting it the way it..."

You close your mouth over her nipple and she stops mid-sentence.

"Oh. Oh, that's really good."

The taste of her skin is clean, and you feel her nipple harden further against your tongue as you suck gently. Her hands tighten in your hair and her hips shift, grinding her ass back against the rigid length of your cock where it strains against your pants.

You take your time with her chest, switching from one nipple to the other, using your mouth and your hands in alternation. Licking broad strokes with the flat of your tongue, then swirling around the hardened peak. Sucking until she gasps, then releasing to blow cool air across the wet skin and watching her shiver. Her breasts might be small but they're sensitive as fuck, every touch and lick and gentle bite drawing reactions from her that make your cock throb insistently against the confines of your underwear.

Her hips keep moving the whole time, rocking in a slow rhythm that drags her ass across your erection with maddening consistency. The fabric of her skirt has ridden up and you can feel the heat of her even through all the layers between you.

"Okay." Her breathing has gone ragged, her chest flushed pink. "Okay, I need to see what I'm working with here."

She slides off your lap and kneels on the seat beside you, her fingers going to your belt. The metal clinks as she unbuckles it, then she pops the button of your pants and drags the zipper down. Her movements are efficient, purposeful, like she's completing a task rather than undressing you, and there's something weirdly hot about her matter-of-fact approach.

"Lift your hips." You comply, raising yourself off the seat so she can tug your pants and underwear down together. They catch briefly on your erection before she pulls harder, and then your cock springs free, slapping against your stomach with the kind of enthusiasm that would be embarrassing if you had any remaining capacity for embarrassment.

Gaeul stares.

Your cock is hard and flushed, curving slightly upward, thick enough that her fingers probably won't touch when she wraps her hand around it (not that you've measured). The length is significant, easily the full span of her forearm from wrist to elbow, and you watch her expression shift from curiosity to something like impressed disbelief.

“Holy shit." She tilts her head, studying your cock. "I could play baseball with that thing."

"Thanks?"

"No, seriously, that's..." She wraps her hand around the shaft and you were right, her fingers don't quite meet around the girth. "That's a lot of dick. Like, objectively. I've seen my fair share and this is definitely in the upper percentile." Her hand starts moving, stroking slowly up and down the length, spreading the bead of precum that's already gathered at the tip. The sensation makes your head fall back against the window, a groan escaping your throat. "Hey, random question."

"Mm?"

"I heard that guys with really big dicks sometimes have trouble pumping enough blood to get fully hard. Like, their hearts can't keep up and they end up feeling faint." Her hand doesn't stop moving as she talks, her grip firm and steady. "Is that true? Have you ever passed out from an erection?"

You lift your head to stare at her incredulously. "I don't... can we not talk about that right now?"

"Why not?"

"Because it's not exactly a topic that gets me going. Medical concerns about my circulatory system aren't really dirty talk."

"Oh." She blinks, then laughs, her nose scrunching in that way it does when she finds something genuinely funny. "You're right, my bad. That was a weird tangent. I just get curious about stuff sometimes."

"I've noticed."

Gaeul shifts her position on the seat, settling onto her knees as she lowers her head toward your lap. Her hand is still wrapped around your shaft, stroking lazily, and she studies your cock with the kind of focused attention she usually reserves for complicated property contracts.

"Fair warning, I have a small mouth. This might take some adjustment." She parts her lips and takes the head of your cock between them, and you immediately understand what she means. Her jaw stretches to accommodate even just the tip, her lips pulled taut around the thick crown, and you can see the slight furrow in her brow as she works to take more. She manages another inch before pulling back, a thin strand of saliva connecting her lower lip to your cockhead. "Yeah, that's... that's a lot."

"You don't have to..."

"No, I want to. Just give me a second to figure this out."

She tries again, this time angling her head differently and relaxing her jaw more deliberately. The warm wetness of her mouth envelops the first few inches and she holds there, breathing steadily through her nose, letting herself adjust to the stretch. Her tongue presses flat against the underside of your shaft, tracing along the thick vein that runs the length of it, and the sensation makes your thighs tense involuntarily.

Slowly, carefully, she starts to move. Her head bobs in a shallow rhythm at first, just working the top third of your cock, her hand gripping the base to cover what her mouth can't reach. Each downstroke pushes her a little further, and you can feel the resistance of her throat each time she tests her limits. She gags slightly on a particularly ambitious attempt and pulls back, coughing once before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Okay. Okay, I think I've got it now."

When she takes you back into her mouth, something has shifted. She's found her rhythm, her confidence, and the difference is immediate. Her lips form a tight seal around your shaft as she sinks down, taking more than half your length before retreating, and her hand works in tandem with her mouth to cover the rest. The coordination is seamless, her fist twisting on each upstroke while her tongue swirls around the head, and the dual sensation has you gripping the leather seat hard.

"Fuck, Gaeul..."

She hums in response, the vibration traveling through your cock and straight to the base of your spine. Her pace increases, her movements growing more confident, more eager. You look down and the sight of her is almost too much: her pretty face stretched around your thick shaft, her cheeks hollowing with each suck, her eyes fluttering closed in concentration. Her lips are shiny with spit and precum, obscenely wet, and every time she pulls back you can see the way your cock glistens from her efforts.

Her free hand comes up to cup your balls, rolling them gently in her palm as she continues to work your shaft. The pressure is perfect, just firm enough to add another layer of sensation without being uncomfortable. She squeezes lightly in rhythm with her sucking, timing each motion to maximize the pleasure, and you genuinely have no idea how she's so good at this.

"You're... jesus, you're incredible at this."

She pops off your cock long enough to respond, her hand still stroking steadily. "Thanks. I've had practice." A cheeky grin. "Also, I'm very goal-oriented. When I commit to something, I really commit."

Then her mouth is on you again, and coherent thought becomes increasingly difficult.

She varies her technique constantly, never letting you get too used to any one sensation. Long, slow strokes that drag her lips from base to tip. Quick, shallow bobs focused on the sensitive head. Deep attempts that push into her throat and make her eyes water slightly before she backs off. She traces the ridge of your cockhead with the tip of her tongue, flicks at the frenulum, presses wet kisses along the sides of your shaft. Every nerve ending in your cock is firing at maximum intensity and you're pretty sure you're going to remember this blowjob for the rest of your life.

Then she dips lower.

Her tongue drags down the underside of your shaft, past the base, and she takes one of your balls into her mouth with a gentle suction that makes your entire body jerk. "Oh fuck..."

She releases it with a soft pop, looking up at you through her lashes. "Good?"

"Very good. Very, very good."

"Noted." She returns her attention to your balls, lavishing them with the same dedication she showed your cock. Her tongue traces the seam between them, wet and warm, before she sucks one back into her mouth and rolls it gently. Her hand keeps stroking your shaft the entire time, maintaining a steady rhythm that keeps you hovering at the edge of sanity. She switches to the other ball, giving it equal treatment, and the combination of sensations is so overwhelming that you have to actively fight to keep your hips still.

"You taste good, by the way." She says it casually. "Clean. Some guys don't bother with basic hygiene and it's like, dude, you want me to put my mouth there, maybe wash first? But you're good. Very considerate."

"I... thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome." Her mouth finds your cock again, taking you deep, and she sets a punishing pace that has you seeing stars. The wet sounds of her sucking fill the car, obscene and rhythmic, and her hand twists and strokes in perfect counterpoint to her bobbing head. Your balls are tight and heavy, still tingling from her attention, and every muscle in your body is coiled with tension as the pleasure builds and builds.

Then she pulls off suddenly, breathing hard, her lips swollen and her chin wet with spit. Her eyes are glazed, her cheeks flushed, and when she speaks her voice is rough.

"Okay, I'm really fucking horny now." She doesn't wait for a response. Her hands go to her waist, fumbling with the zipper of her skirt, and she shimmies it down her hips with urgent, graceless movements. The fabric pools around her knees and she kicks it off impatiently, leaving her in nothing but a pair of simple cotton panties that have a very visible wet spot at the center.

She turns as she repositions herself, and you get a clear view of her ass. It's tight and compact, perfectly proportioned to her petite frame, the kind of ass that looks incredible in fitted pants and even better bare. The curve of it is smooth and firm, and when she reaches back to hook her fingers in the waistband of her panties, you find yourself holding your breath.

She doesn't take them off. Instead, she simply pulls the thin fabric to the side, exposing the pink, glistening folds of her pussy, and swings her leg over your lap.

"I need you inside me like, right now." Her hand wraps around your cock, still slick with her spit, and she positions the head at her entrance. You can feel the heat of her, the slick wetness, and your hands find her hips instinctively as she begins to lower herself onto you.

The first inch is almost too much.

You watch Gaeul's face as she sinks down, her expression shifting from eager anticipation to wide-eyed concentration. Her brow furrows, her lips part, and she lets out a shaky breath as her pussy stretches to accommodate the thick head of your cock. She's wet, dripping wet, but the sheer girth of you still requires her to go slow.

"Oh my god." She breathes the words out like a prayer. "Oh my god, you're big."

"We can stop if..."

"Don't you dare." She sinks lower, taking another few inches, and her hands brace on your chest for support. You can feel every flutter of her pussy as it adjusts to the intrusion, the involuntary clenching and releasing as her body works to accept you. The heat of her is incredible, slick and tight and somehow even better than her mouth was, and you have to actively focus on not thrusting upward because she needs to set the pace.

Slowly, incrementally, she works her way down your shaft. Each small drop takes more of you inside her until finally, finally, her ass meets your thighs and she's fully seated with your entire cock buried in her petite body.

"Fuck." Her eyes are squeezed shut, her chest heaving. "Fuck, that's... you're so deep."

You look down at where your bodies meet and your breath catches in your throat.

There's a visible bulge in her lower abdomen.

The outline of your cock is actually visible through her skin, a slight but unmistakable protrusion just below her navel. She's so small and you're so big that there's simply nowhere for you to go except to push against her from the inside. You press your palm flat against it, feeling the hardness of your own cock through her body, and Gaeul lets out a strangled moan at the pressure.

"You can see it." You state the obvious, still somewhat in disbelief.

"I can feel it." She laughs breathlessly. "I feel like you're in my fucking throat. In a good way. In a really, really good way."

She starts to move.

The first roll of her hips is experimental, testing, and you both groan at the sensation. Her pussy drags along your length, that incredible tightness creating friction that makes your toes curl against the car floor. She rises up a few inches and sinks back down, setting a slow rhythm that lets her feel every ridge and vein of your cock as it moves inside her.

"So thick." She pants, her head falling forward, her hair spilling over her shoulders. "God, you're so fucking thick. I feel like I'm being split in half."

Her pace increases gradually, her confidence growing as her body adjusts to your size. The wet sounds of your fucking fill the car, obscene and rhythmic, and you're dimly aware that the windows are starting to fog from the heat you're generating. Her thighs flex as she rides you, lifting and dropping, her ass slapping against your thighs with each downstroke. The bulge in her stomach appears and disappears with her movements.

"Your body is amazing,” you say hoarsely. "Fucking perfect."

"Yeah?" She opens her eyes to look at you, a smile playing at her swollen lips even as she continues to bounce on your cock. "You like petite girls?"

"I like you."

"Smooth answer." She rewards you with a particularly hard grind, rotating her hips in a circle that makes you see stars.

“I’ve always thought you were hot as hell. Of course, in a respectful way, you’re my coworker. But everything about you fascinates me.” You grip her hips tighter, guiding her movements. "And there’s something about the size difference. The way you feel so delicate but you're taking all of me like it's nothing."

"Definitely not nothing." She gasps as you hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Trust me, I'm very aware of every inch. But I appreciate the compliment. It's flattering."

Her rhythm changes, she's chasing something now, her movements less controlled and more instinctive. Her hands slide from your chest to your shoulders, and she uses the leverage to fuck herself on your cock with increasing intensity. The angle shifts and suddenly she's grinding her clit against your pubic bone with each downstroke, adding another layer of stimulation that makes her whole body shudder.

"Right there." Her eyes roll back slightly. "Oh fuck, right there, don't move."

You hold perfectly still, letting her use your body exactly how she needs to. She works herself on your cock with single-minded focus, her hips snapping in a fast, tight rhythm that keeps you buried deep while she rubs her clit against you. Her pussy clenches around your shaft, rhythmic pulses that tell you she's getting close, and you can feel the wetness of her arousal dripping down to coat your balls.

"You feel so good inside me." She's babbling now, her filter completely gone. "So fucking good. I can't believe we've been working together this whole time and I didn't know you were packing this. I would have jumped you months ago. I would have fucked you in the supply closet. In the break room. In the parking garage."

"We can still do all of those things."

"Fuck yes we can."

Her movements are becoming more and more uncoordinated, erratic, her body chasing the orgasm that's building inside her. You can see it in the flush spreading down her chest, feel it in the way her thighs are trembling against your hips. Her pussy is fluttering around your cock, those involuntary clenches coming faster and harder, and her breathing has devolved into sharp, desperate gasps.

"I'm gonna cum." She announces it like she's surprised by the information. "Fuck, I'm actually gonna cum. You're gonna make me cum."

"Do it." You thrust up into her, matching her rhythm, and she cries out at the added depth. "Cum on my cock."

"Oh god, oh fuck, oh..."

Her entire body goes rigid.

You feel her orgasm before you see it, her pussy clamping down on your cock hard, the rhythmic contractions milking your shaft as waves of pleasure crash through her. Her head tips back, her moan becomes guttural, and her nails dig into your shoulders. She shakes on top of you, trembling uncontrollably, her hips still grinding in tiny circles as she rides out the sensation.

"Oh my god." She finally manages words, her body still twitching with aftershocks. "Oh my god, oh my god."

Her pussy is still pulsing around you, little flutters of her inner walls that feel incredible against your sensitive cock. You're painfully hard, desperate for your own release, but you hold yourself back because she's still coming down and you don't want to rush this. She collapses forward against your chest, breathing hard, her heart hammering so fast you can feel it against your own ribcage. Her pussy gives one last clench around your cock and she whimpers at the overstimulation.

"Holy shit." She laughs weakly into your neck. "You made me cum so fast." Gaeul lifts her head from your chest, her cheeks flushed and her eyes still slightly glazed from the aftershocks rolling through her body. She doesn't sound disappointed though, quite the opposite actually. There's a satisfied grin spreading across her face that makes her look almost giddy.

"Usually takes me way longer than that, especially with someone new. But you just..." She gestures at where your bodies are still connected, your cock still buried inside her despite the fact that neither of you have moved. "I don't know. Something about the way you fill me up, I guess. Hit all the right spots."

"Glad I could deliver."

"The good news is that means I can cum more." She wiggles her hips experimentally and you both hiss at the sensation, her pussy still sensitive and your cock still achingly hard. "I'm definitely a multiple orgasm kind of girl. Once I get started, I can just keep going."

You lean up and capture her lips in a quick kiss, tasting the faint sweetness of her lip gloss. When you pull back, you say: "I'd be happy to help with that."

Before she can respond, you're already moving. Your hands grip her waist and lift her off your cock and you reposition her so she's sitting back against the car seat, her legs spread and her panties still pulled to the side. The leather is going to be absolutely ruined after this but that seems like a problem for future Gaeul to deal with.

You kneel on the floor of the backseat, the space cramped but manageable, and settle yourself between her thighs. From this angle you have a perfect view of her pussy, pink and swollen and glistening with a combination of her arousal and the remnants of her orgasm. A thin strand of wetness connects her folds and you watch it stretch and break as she shifts slightly.

"Oh, you're gonna..." She trails off as you hook your hands under her thighs and pull her closer to the edge of the seat. "Okay, fair warning, I'm still really sensitive so this might be..."

You press your lips to her inner thigh and she lets out a nervous giggle. "That tickles." You kiss higher, closer to where she's wet and waiting, and the giggle dissolves into something breathier. "Okay, that's less ticklish and more..."

Your tongue makes contact with her pussy and whatever she was going to say gets lost in a sharp inhale.

The taste of her floods your mouth immediately, tangy and slightly sweet, unmistakably feminine in a way that makes your neglected cock throb between your legs. You drag your tongue through her folds in one long, slow stroke, gathering her wetness. She's soaked, absolutely dripping, and every pass of your tongue produces more slickness for you to lap up.

"Oh god. That's... I'm so sensitive right now, that's really..." You flatten your tongue against her clit and press firmly and her hips jerk up off the seat. "Fuck!"

Another nervous laugh escapes her, but this one has an edge of desperation to it. Her hands come down to rest on your head, not pushing or pulling, just holding you there gently. You can feel the slight tremor in her fingers against your scalp.

"Sorry, sorry." She's apologizing even though she has nothing to apologize for. "It's just a lot right after. But don't stop, please don't stop, it feels really good even though it's intense."

Your tongue explores her with patient deliberation. The hood of her clit is swollen, peeking out from between her folds, and you trace around it in slow circles that make her thighs twitch on either side of your head. Her inner lips are puffy and slick, sensitive enough that even the lightest brush of your tongue draws a reaction. You dip lower, probing at her entrance where she's still slightly stretched from taking your cock, and push inside just enough to feel her walls flutter around the intrusion.

"Your mouth." She manages between shaky breaths. "You're really good with your mouth. Like, really good. Where did you learn to do this?"

You don't answer because your mouth is currently occupied, but you do reward the compliment by sealing your lips around her clit and sucking gently.

Her back arches off the seat and her fingers tighten in your hair. "Oh my god, okay, that's..." She laughs again but it's less nervous now, more incredulous. "That's very good. That's very, very good. Keep doing that."

You establish a rhythm, alternating between broad strokes of your tongue and focused attention on her clit. The nervous giggles have faded completely now, replaced by breathy moans and muttered encouragement that tells you exactly what she likes. Her hips have started moving against your face, subtle rolls that grind her pussy against your mouth, chasing the pleasure you're giving her.

"I can't believe we're doing this." She sounds almost wonderstruck. "We were supposed to be driving to work. We were supposed to listen to Paramore. And now you're eating me out in my backseat and I just came on your dick like five minutes ago and this is officially the weirdest Wednesday of my entire life."

You respond by sliding two fingers inside her (she takes them easily, still loose and wet from your cock) and curling them against her front wall while your tongue continues its assault on her clit.

The sound she makes is not a giggle.

It's a moan, deep, guttural and surprised, like the pleasure caught her off guard. Her pussy clenches around your fingers and you feel a fresh rush of wetness coat your hand. She's getting wetter by the second, her body responding to the dual stimulation with increasing enthusiasm.

"Right there." Her hips buck up into your face. "Oh fuck, right there, don't move your fingers."

You keep your fingers hooked against that spongy spot inside her, maintaining steady pressure while your tongue works her clit in tight circles. The combination seems to be short-circuiting her brain because she's stopped forming coherent sentences, her vocalizations reduced to gasps and whimpers and the occasional curse word.

Then her thighs start to tremble, the muscles twitching involuntarily as pleasure builds in her core. She's so wet that your entire chin is slick with her. You can feel her clit throbbing against your tongue, swollen and sensitive, and every flick makes her whole body jerk.

"I'm gonna cum again." She sounds almost surprised, like she didn't expect it to happen so quickly. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum again already!" You increase your pace, your fingers pumping faster while your tongue presses harder against her clit. She's writhing on the seat now, her back arching and her hands fisting in your hair hard enough to hurt. The pain only spurs you on, makes you more determined to push her over the edge. "Don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop, I'm so close, I'm so fucking close..."

Her thighs clamp around your head like a vice as the orgasm hits her.

You feel it in the violent contractions of her pussy around your fingers, rhythmic pulses that squeeze you tight before releasing, over and over. You feel it in the fresh flood of wetness that spills out of her and coats your tongue, a gush of arousal that you lap up eagerly. You feel it in the way her whole body goes rigid for one suspended moment before she shakes apart, trembling and gasping and crying out loud enough that you're genuinely glad you found a secluded spot.

"Oh god, oh fuck, oh my god..."

She's gushing into your mouth now, her cum coating your tongue and chin and dripping down your neck. The taste of her is everywhere, overwhelming your senses, and you keep licking through her orgasm because you can feel she's not done yet. Aftershock after aftershock rolls through her, each one accompanied by another clench of her pussy and another strangled moan, and you milk every last tremor from her body until she finally goes limp against the seat.

“Okay.” She swallows, needing a second to breathe. “Okay. I need a minute. Holy shit.”

You settle back against the seat beside her, catching your breath while Gaeul lies sprawled against the leather like she's just finished running a marathon. You can hear her heavy breathing in the confines of the car, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on her skin, and when she finally opens her eyes there's a satisfied gleam in them.

"Come here." You turn toward her, expecting maybe another kiss, but instead her hands come up to cup your face and she pulls you close. Her tongue darts out and drags across your chin, lapping up the slickness that coats your skin. The sensation is strange and intimate and weirdly hot all at once. She licks a slow stripe up your cheek, collecting her own juices from your face with methodical thoroughness. Her tongue traces along your jaw, swipes across the corner of your mouth, cleans the wetness from around your lips. She's tasting herself on you, and the focused way she does it suggests this isn't the first time she's done something like this.

"What do you think?"

You consider the question while she continues her task, her tongue warm and soft against your skin. "Honestly? No one has ever licked my face before." You pause as she drags her tongue over the bridge of your nose where some of her arousal had somehow ended up. "But it feels good. Kind of intimate."

"Yeah?" She sounds pleased by that answer. "I think it's hot. Tasting myself on someone else. It's like marking my territory or something."

She finishes cleaning your face with a few more careful licks, then pulls back to examine her handiwork. Apparently satisfied that she's gotten everything, she takes a deep breath and stretches her arms over her head, her small breasts lifting with the motion.

"Okay. I'm good. We can continue." A wicked grin spreads across her face. "Time to drain those balls of yours. You've been so patient, you deserve a reward."

"How generous of you."

"I'm a giver." She shifts on the seat, considering the limited space available. "I want to try another position. The riding thing was great but I want you to really fuck me, you know? Like, actually pound me."

The logistics of achieving this in the backseat of a sedan prove to be somewhat challenging. There's a lot of awkward maneuvering, elbows bumping against windows and knees knocking against door handles, accompanied by muttered apologies and stifled laughter. Eventually, through a combination of creative positioning and sheer determination, you manage to get Gaeul arranged almost on all fours, her hands braced against the door and her knees on the seat, her ass raised and presented toward you where you kneel behind her.

The view is spectacular.

Her pussy is still swollen and wet from everything you've done, pink and glistening and slightly open from being stretched around your cock earlier. Above it, her tight little asshole is on full display, a darker pink pucker that clenches involuntarily as cool air hits it. Her panties are completely ruined at this point, the fabric bunched uselessly to one side, and her skirt is hiked up around her waist in a way that would be almost comical if it wasn't so unbelievably hot.

You grip your cock, still hard and aching from being neglected during the oral session, and position the head at her entrance. The first touch makes her shiver in anticipation. "Ready?"

"Been ready. Put it back in me."

You push forward and her body opens for you, her pussy accepting your cock with a slick, welcoming heat that makes you both groan. You slide in slowly, savoring the sensation of her walls stretching around your girth, until your hips meet her ass and you're buried to the hilt.

"Mmm." Gaeul sighs contentedly, pushing back against you. "Welcome home."

"Did you just welcome my dick home?"

"It lives there now. I've decided." She wiggles her hips, adjusting to the fullness. "Now are you gonna fuck me or what?"

You pull back and thrust forward, establishing a slow, steady rhythm. The angle in this position is different, deeper somehow, and you can feel the head of your cock pressing against her cervix with each stroke. Gaeul moans appreciatively, her fingers curling against the car door. "That's it. Just like that."

Your hands grip her hips, using them as leverage to pull her back onto your cock as you thrust forward. The pace is still measured, controlled, each stroke long and deliberate. You watch your cock disappear inside her over and over, her pussy lips clinging to your shaft like they're trying to keep you from leaving.

You reach down and spread her ass cheeks apart with your thumbs, opening her up even more. The view makes your cock throb inside her, the sight of her tight pink asshole and the way her pussy stretches obscenely around your thickness. She's so small and you're so big and the contrast is visual porn all on its own.

“You can go deeper,” she murmurs, the words coming out muffled with her cheek pressed against the car door. “I can take it. I want to feel every inch of you.”

You adjust your angle and thrust harder, punching deeper into her on each stroke. Her whole body jolts forward with the impact, a punched-out moan escaping her lips. You keep her ass spread open, watching yourself fuck her, the visual adding another layer to the already overwhelming sensation of her tight cunt gripping your cock.

"Harder." She demands, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "Come on, you're not gonna break me. Fuck me like you mean it."

Something in you snaps.

Your grip on her hips tightens and you start truly fucking her, abandoning the measured pace in favor of hard, deep strokes that make the entire car rock. Her ass jiggles with each impact, her tight hole clenching in response to the stimulation of being spread open.

"Yes, yes, yes, just like that, oh god..." She's babbling now, her composure completely shattered. "So deep, you're so fucking deep, I can feel you in my stomach."

The pressure is building at the base of your spine, that familiar tension that signals you're approaching the point of no return. You've been on edge for what feels like hours, between the video and the blowjob and watching her cum twice, and your balls are heavy and tight with the need to release. "I'm close." You manage to grunt out between thrusts. "Gaeul, I'm really fucking close."

"Inside." She doesn't hesitate. "Cum inside me. I have an IUD, it's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Did I stutter?" She pushes back hard against you, taking you impossibly deep. "I want to feel you cum in me. Fill me up. Give me every drop." She looks back over her shoulder at you, her face flushed and her eyes dark with desire. "Cum deep inside me. I want it so bad. Want to feel you pulsing in my pussy, want to feel you filling me up with your hot cum. Please, I need it, need you to breed me..."

The dirty talk combined with the tight grip of her cunt is too much. You thrust forward one final time, burying yourself as deep as you can go and your cock pulses inside her, rope after rope of thick cum painting her insides white. The release is almost painful in its intensity, weeks of pent-up tension finally finding an outlet. You can feel her pussy milking you, rhythmic contractions that seem designed to pull every last drop from your balls. Your hips jerk involuntarily, grinding against her ass as you empty yourself into her welcoming body.

Gaeul cries out beneath you, her whole body trembling as her own orgasm hits. Her pussy clamps down on you so hard that it milks even more cum out of you, her walls fluttering wildly around your still-pulsing cock. She shakes and moans and pushes back against you, taking everything you have to give while falling apart herself.

The orgasms seem to go on forever, waves of pleasure crashing through both of you in tandem. Eventually the intensity fades, leaving you both panting and sweaty and utterly spent. You stay buried inside her for a long moment, neither of you willing to break the connection.

Finally, reluctantly, you pull out.

The sight that greets you is obscene in the best way. Her pussy is gaping slightly, thoroughly fucked, and a thick stream of your cum immediately begins to leak out of her. It drips down her thighs and onto the leather seat below, pooling in a way that's definitely going to leave a stain.

"Oh, gross." Gaeul looks back to survey the damage and wrinkles her nose. "That's gonna be a bitch to clean."

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it was worth it. I'll deal with it later." She reaches down and swipes some of the leaking cum with her finger, then casually pops it in her mouth. "Okay, we should probably get dressed. We're definitely late at this point."

Getting clothes back on in the cramped backseat is somehow even more awkward than getting them off. There's a lot of fumbling with buttons and zippers, a brief search for Gaeul's bra (which had somehow ended up in the front passenger footwell), and a futile attempt to make your hair look like you haven't just been fucking in a car for the past forty-five minutes.

You both climb back into the front seats, slightly disheveled but technically presentable. Gaeul adjusts her rearview mirror and catches sight of herself, wincing at the state of her ponytail.

"We look like we just had sex."

"We did just have sex."

"I know, but I was hoping it wouldn't be so obvious." She shrugs and starts the car. "Whatever. If anyone asks, we got stuck in traffic.”

Gaeul starts the car, the engine purrs softly, and soon you’re back on the city streets. For a few minutes neither of you says anything. Gaeul keeps her eyes on the road, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift, eventually she sighs as she adjusts herself in the seat, the car idling at a red light. She looks contemplative, her freshly fucked hair still slightly disheveled despite her best attempts to fix it. Then she turns to you with an expression that suggests trouble:

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I just had sex but I'm still horny,” she admits, with all the honesty that only Gaeul could have. "Like, we literally just fucked in my backseat, you came inside me, I came three times, and I'm sitting here thinking about doing it again. What is wrong with me?"

You don't really have an answer for that.

"Don't get me wrong, you were great." She continues, tapping her fingers against the wheel. "Too great, even. That's kind of the problem. The vibe between us just... clicked. You know? Like, sometimes you hook up with someone and it's fine, it gets the job done, but it's just physical. But this felt different. There was like, an actual connection there."

"What does that mean exactly?" The light turns green and she accelerates, but her mind is clearly elsewhere.

"It means I want to skip work today." She glances at you sideways, gauging your reaction. "If you want to, of course. I'm not trying to pressure you. It's just... we're both excellent employees, right? We never miss work. We're like the most reliable people on the team. So if we take one day off, nobody's gonna die. The property listings will still be there tomorrow."

You consider this. Your body is still humming with residual arousal, your cock already starting to stir again just from this conversation. The memory of how she felt around you, tight and wet and eager, is fresh enough that it's making rational thought difficult.

"I can't deny that I'm still horny too."

"See?!" Gaeul's face lights up triumphantly. "I knew it! I could tell!" She extends her hand toward you, palm up, clearly expecting a high-five. You oblige. "We're sluts." She declares it like a badge of honor. "Well, I'm the slut, technically. You're more like the insatiable guy. The stud. Whatever the male equivalent is."

"I'm pretty sure there's a double standard at play here."

"Definitely. Society is bullshit. Anyway, what do you have in mind? For excuses, I mean. We need to call in."

"I hadn't really thought that far ahead."

"Okay, okay, I've got it." Her eyes brighten with mischief. "We tell them we were in an accident on the way to work. Nothing major, just a fender bender, but we have to deal with insurance and police reports and..."

"That seems a bit dramatic."

"You're right." She deflates slightly. "Plus we'd have to fake damage to my car and I just got this thing. Bad idea." She drums her fingers on the wheel, thinking. "Okay, new plan. I'll call and say I have something stuck in my throat." She pauses, then grins wickedly at the innuendo. "I've been coughing all morning, feels like I might be coming down with something. Very responsible of me to stay home so I don't infect the whole office."

"And me?"

"Same thing. We always have lunch together. Yesterday we sat side by side in the meeting room for hours, I probably infected you with whatever I have. Bad eggs. Tragic, really."

It's flimsy, but it might work. Neither of you have ever called in sick before, so you've probably got some goodwill built up.

"Alright. Let's do it."

The phone calls are brief and awkward, with Gaeul putting on a remarkably convincing raspy cough while explaining that she simply can't make it in today, she's so sorry, she'll definitely be back tomorrow. You wait a few minutes, then you follow suit with your own performance. Your manager sounds mildly suspicious but accepts the excuse without too much pushback.

"Perfect." Gaeul ends her call and immediately changes lanes, heading in the opposite direction of the office. "Operation skip work to fuck is officially a go."

The drive to her apartment takes about twenty minutes, during which Gaeul provides running commentary on the neighborhood (decent, not too expensive, close to good restaurants) and her building (old but well-maintained, friendly neighbors who mind their own business). She pulls into an underground parking garage and finds her designated spot, and then you're following her to the elevator and up to the fourth floor.

Her apartment is clean, organized, and tastefully decorated without being overly fussy. The living room has a comfortable-looking couch facing a modest TV, a bookshelf stuffed with novels and random knick-knacks, and a small dining table that's currently serving as a secondary desk based on the laptop and scattered papers.

"Make yourself at home." She kicks off her shoes and shrugs out of her blazer, draping it over one of the dining chairs. "I'll make coffee. You want coffee? I feel like this situation calls for coffee."

"Sure."

She disappears into the small kitchen and you hear the sounds of cabinet doors opening and a coffee machine starting up. You take a seat on the couch, looking around at the evidence of her life outside of work. A yoga mat rolled up in the corner. A stack of fashion magazines on the coffee table. A framed photo of her with a group of friends, all smiling at the camera.

Gaeul returns with two mugs, handing you one before settling onto the opposite end of the couch. She's pulled her hair out of its ponytail now, letting it fall around her shoulders.

"This is so cool." She takes a sip of her coffee, grinning at you over the rim. "Skipping work to have sex. I feel like a teenager again. A slutty, irresponsible teenager with no regard for her professional reputation."

"It is nice to change things up a bit."

"Right? We're always so responsible. Show up on time, meet our deadlines, never complain. It feels kind of liberating to just say fuck it for once." She stretches her legs out, her bare feet almost touching your thigh. "Pun intended."

You drink your coffee, enjoying the easy silence that falls between you. It's strange how comfortable this feels, sitting in your coworker's apartment after fucking her in her car, waiting to fuck her again. But Gaeul has a way of making everything seem normal.

"Okay." She finishes her coffee and sets the mug on the table. "Wait here for a minute. I want to change into something more appropriate for the occasion."

She disappears down the hallway and you hear a door close. You finish your own coffee, wondering what she considers appropriate for this particular occasion. When she reappears in the doorway, your eyes widen.

"Wow."

She's wearing red lingerie. Not the practical everyday stuff she had on in the car, but actual lingerie, the kind you see in Victoria's Secret catalogs.A lacy bralette that adds a bit of volume to her small breasts, the fabric sheer enough that you can see the outline of her nipples through it. Matching panties that sit high on her hips and dip low in the front.

"Is this a bit much for so early in the morning?" She does a little turn, letting you see the way the panties curve over her ass. "I bought this set ages ago but never had anyone to wear it for. Seemed like a waste."

"This is the best view I could have in the morning." You're not even trying to be smooth. It's just the truth. "Seriously. You look incredible."

"Flatterer." But she's clearly pleased, a pink flush spreading across her cheeks that matches the red of her lingerie. "Follow me."

She leads you down the hallway to her bedroom, which is just as neat and organized as the rest of her apartment. A queen-sized bed with a gray comforter, nightstands on either side, a dresser with a mirror above it. She stops at the foot of the bed and gestures at you.

"Make yourself comfortable. And by that I mean get naked."

You start unbuttoning your shirt, watching her watch you. The shirt comes off, then your undershirt, and her gaze tracks over your chest appreciatively. You unbuckle your belt and push your pants down, stepping out of them, until you're standing there in just your underwear.

The bulge is already prominent. Gaeul closes the distance between you, her bare feet padding softly on the carpet. She reaches up and cups your face in her hands, pulling you down to meet her lips.

Her hand slides down your chest, tracing over the muscles of your stomach before finding the bulge straining against your underwear. She palms your cock through the fabric, squeezing gently, and hums her approval into the kiss without breaking contact. The feel of her delicate fingers wrapped around you, even with a layer of cotton between you, sends a pulse of heat straight to your groin.

You walk her backward toward the bed, your lips still connected, one hand on the small of her back and the other tangled in her hair. The backs of her knees hit the mattress and she sits down automatically, finally breaking the kiss to look up at you. Her lips are swollen and wet, her eyes dark with want, and the red lace of her bralette frames her small breasts perfectly.

"Underwear off."

You hook your thumbs in the waistband and push down, letting your cock spring free. It bobs heavily between you, fully hard and already leaking from the tip, and Gaeul's gaze drops to watch with undisguised hunger. She reaches out and wraps her fingers around the shaft, stroking once, twice, spreading the precum along your length.

"Missed you." She's talking to your cock. Actually addressing it like an old friend. "It's been like, what, an hour? Way too long."

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're hard as a rock. Get on the bed."

You climb onto the mattress and settle against the pillows. This is so much better, so much more comfortable than the back seat of a car, and you’ll definitely take advantage of having more space to move around. Gaeul follows you, crawling up your body with a mischievous smile on her face.

She straddles your hips, sitting back on your thighs, and you can feel the heat of her pussy hovering just above your cock. Her panties are still on but she reaches down and pulls the fabric aside, exposing her pink folds, already glistening with arousal. Your cum from earlier has mostly been cleaned up but there's still a hint of it mixed with her wetness.

"Round three." She positions the head of your cock at her entrance, rubbing it through her slick folds. "Ready?"

"Absolutely."

She sinks down.

The sensation of entering her again is just as intense as the first time, that tight wet heat engulfing your cock inch by inch. She takes you slowly, savoring the stretch, her eyes fluttering closed as her body adjusts to your size. You watch yourself disappear inside her, the thick shaft spreading her open, until she's fully seated with your entire length buried in her pussy.

"God." She breathes out shakily. "That never gets old." Your hands find her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh above the waistband of her panties. You plant your feet flat on the mattress and thrust upward, using the leverage to fuck into her from below. The angle is perfect, driving you deep, and Gaeul gasps at the sudden movement. "Oh fuck."

The pleasure on her face is immediate, her expression shifting from composed to wrecked in the span of a single thrust. Her mouth falls open, her brow furrows, and she braces her hands on your chest as you establish a rhythm.

"This is so much better than working." She moans, her head tipping back. "Like, infinitely better. I could be answering emails right now. Instead I'm riding your cock in my bed. Best decision I've ever made."

"Glad you think so."

"I really, really do."

You thrust harder, snapping your hips up to meet her as she starts to move with you. The red bralette shifts with her movements, her nipples visibly hard through the thin fabric. She looks like something out of a fantasy, this gorgeous petite woman in red lingerie bouncing on your cock with her hair falling around her shoulders and her skin flushed pink with arousal. Your hands slide from her waist to her ass, grabbing handfuls of the firm flesh and using it to guide her movements. She responds by grinding down harder, rotating her hips in circles that make you see stars.

"You feel so good inside me." She gasps. "So fucking good. I can't believe I waited this long to fuck you. All those months working together and I had no idea you were hiding this monster in your pants."

"To be fair, you were hiding a pretty incredible body under those work clothes too."

"Aww, you're sweet." She rewards the compliment by clenching her pussy around you, a deliberate squeeze that makes your cock throb. "Keep the compliments coming and I'll keep doing that." You thrust up particularly hard and she cries out, her whole body jolting with the impact. "Or that." She manages breathlessly. "Keep doing that too."

The pace increases naturally, both of you chasing the pleasure that's building with every stroke. Gaeul is riding you in earnest now, bouncing on your cock with abandon, her small tits jiggling beneath the lace of her bralette. You watch the way her stomach flexes with each movement, the way her thighs tremble against your hips, the way her face contorts with pleasure every time you bottom out inside her.

"I'm gonna be thinking about this at work forever now." She's babbling again, that filter completely gone. "Every time I see you at your desk, I'm gonna remember how your cock feels stretching me open. Every meeting is gonna be torture. I'll be sitting there listening to quarterly reports and getting wet thinking about this."

"Same goes for me."

"Good. We can suffer together." She grinds down hard, taking you as deep as possible. "Maybe sneak off to the supply closet sometimes. Or the parking garage. I've always wanted to fuck in a parking garage."

"I thought you already did that."

"That was my car in a secluded area. A parking garage is different. More public. More risk of getting caught. The thrill is part of the fun."

You file that information away for later and focus on the present moment, on the tight grip of her pussy and the delicious friction of her body moving against yours. One hour ago you were standing in an elevator dreading another day at work. Now you're in your coworker's bed with your cock buried inside her while she moans about how much better this is than answering emails.

Gaeul leans forward, changing the angle, and you both groan at the shift in sensation. Her clit grinds against your pubic bone with each stroke now, adding another layer of stimulation that has her panting harder. The red lace of her bralette brushes against your chest, her face hovering close to yours, and you can feel her breath hot against your lips.

You maintain the rhythm, thrusting up into her with steady, powerful strokes that have the bed creaking beneath you. Gaeul's movements are becoming less coordinated now, her hips stuttering as the pleasure builds inside her. Her hands press flat against your chest for support, her fingers splayed wide, and you can see the tension coiling in her body with every passing second.

"Don't stop." She gasps. "Please don't stop, I'm getting close."

Your grip on her ass tightens, pulling her down harder onto your cock each time you thrust up. The red bralette has shifted during all her bouncing, the lace now barely covering her nipples. One small breast has almost escaped entirely, the pink peak visible above the edge of the fabric. She's a mess of flushed skin and tangled hair and desperate moans.

"Right there, right there, right there..." Her pussy clenches around you rhythmically, those involuntary contractions that signal she's teetering on the edge. You thrust harder, faster, giving her exactly what she needs.

"Cum for me." You tell her. "Let go."

"I'm gonna... oh fuck, I'm..."

She shakes on top of you, trembling uncontrollably, you feel her cumming around you, the rhythmic pulses of her inner walls milking your shaft, and a fresh flood of wetness coats your cock and drips down to your balls.

"Oh my god." She finally manages to breathe, collapsing forward onto your chest. "Oh my god, oh my god."

Her pussy is still twitching around you, little aftershocks that make your cock throb with need. You're painfully hard, nowhere near finished, and the sight of her completely wrecked on top of you is only making you more desperate to keep going.

You give her maybe thirty seconds to recover before the need becomes too much.

"New position."

"Huh?" She lifts her head, still looking dazed. "What?"

Instead of explaining, you wrap your arms around her waist and sit up, taking her with you. She squeaks in surprise, her legs automatically wrapping around your hips to hold on. Your cock is still buried inside her, the movement causing a delicious shift in angle that makes you both groan.

"What are you doing?"

You swing your legs off the bed and stand up, lifting her with you. She's so small, so light, that it's easy to hold her against your body with your cock still sheathed in her pussy. Her arms loop around your neck for balance.

"Oh, we're doing this." She sounds delighted. "Okay, I'm into it."

You carry her across the bedroom toward the window, each step causing friction that has her whimpering. The curtains are mostly drawn but there's a gap in the middle where the morning sunlight streams through. You position her back against the glass and she gasps at the cold contact on her heated skin.

"Fuck, that's cold." She adjusts her grip on your shoulders. "Are you gonna fuck me against my window?"

"That's the plan."

"Someone might see."

"Does that bother you?"

"Not even a little bit."

You pull your hips back, withdrawing almost completely, and then thrust forward hard. The force of it presses her harder against the glass and she cries out, her nails digging into your shoulders. You set a punishing pace immediately, fucking up into her with deep, powerful strokes that rattle the window in its frame.

"Holy shit." She gasps between thrusts. "This is... oh fuck, this is so hot."

The position is incredible. You're holding her up with just your arms and your cock, her entire weight supported by your body. Her legs are wrapped tight around your waist, her ankles crossed behind your back, and every thrust drives you impossibly deep inside her. The angle hits different spots than before, and from the way she's moaning, they're very good spots.

"You like that?" You grunt, maintaining the relentless pace. "Like being fucked against the window where anyone could look up and see?"

"Yes, yes, I love it." Her head tips back against the glass. "Don't stop." The cold of the window against her back contrasts sharply with the heat where your bodies are connected. You can see goosebumps rising on her skin, her nipples hard as diamonds beneath the red lace. Her small tits bounce with each thrust, the bralette doing almost nothing to contain them at this point. "Are you enjoying this?"

The question comes between moans. She's looking at you now, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure, a wicked smile playing at her lips despite the fact that she's being thoroughly fucked.

"Are you liking fucking your slut coworker?"

Something about hearing her call herself that makes your cock throb inside her. You thrust particularly hard in response, punching deep enough to make her cry out.

"Yeah." You manage. "Yeah, I really fucking am."

"Good." She moans, her pussy clenching around you. "Because I'm loving being your slut. Never knew you were hiding this beast in your work pants. Should've bent over your desk months ago, let you fuck me right there in the office."

The mental image of that has your hips stuttering momentarily before you recover and resume the brutal pace. She notices and grins. "You like that idea? Fucking me at work? Bending me over the copy machine and just taking what you want?"

"You're gonna be the death of me."

She tightens her legs around you, pulling you deeper. "I'm such a bad girl, right? Such a slut for cock. Your cock specifically. I can't believe how much I love it inside me."

Her words are driving you crazy. You shift your grip, one hand sliding down to cup her ass while the other braces against the window beside her head. The new leverage lets you fuck into her even harder, each thrust jolting her whole body.

"Look at me." She demands. "Look at me while you fuck me."

You meet her eyes and the connection is electric. She's completely open, completely exposed, taking everything you're giving her and begging for more. Her mouth falls open as you hit a particularly good angle, a moan escaping that sounds almost surprised.

"Right there, oh god, right there." You focus on that spot, angling your hips to hit it with every stroke. Her moans are getting louder, more desperate, and you're dimly aware that the window might not be doing much to muffle the sounds. If anyone is walking by on the street below, they're getting an earful. "Everyone's gonna know what a slut I am." She gasps, like she's reading your mind. "Gonna hear me getting fucked through the glass. Gonna know someone's using me like a toy."

"That turn you on? The idea of people hearing?"

"Everything about this turns me on." She clenches around you deliberately, making you groan. "You turn me on. Your cock turns me on. Being held up against this window while you rail me turns me on. I'm basically just a walking bundle of horniness at this point."

You lean forward and capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her next moan. She kisses back fiercely, her tongue tangling with yours, her hands fisting in your hair. The position is intense, demanding, requiring all your strength to maintain while still fucking her properly.

When you break the kiss, you're both breathing hard. "I can't believe we're doing this." She laughs breathlessly. "I can't believe this is my Wednesday. Calling in sick to get fucked by my coworker. Against my window. After already getting fucked in my car."

"Any regrets?"

"Zero. Absolutely none." She emphasizes the point by grinding down onto your cock. "Best sick day ever. We should do this every week. Make it a thing. Skip work every Wednesday and just fuck until we can't walk."

"HR might notice a pattern."

"HR can kiss my ass." She leans in close to your ear. "Speaking of which, if you want to fuck my ass later, you can. Fair warning."

The casual way she offers that makes your cock throb so hard you have to pause for a second to regain control. She feels it and laughs, clearly pleased with herself for affecting you that strongly.

"Just putting it on the table." She continues innocently. "Options are good. I like options."

"You're unbelievable."

"I know. It's part of my charm."

You resume fucking her with renewed vigor, and with a few more thrusts you feel her getting close again, her pussy fluttering around your cock in those telltale contractions that signal an approaching orgasm. Her moans have reached a fever pitch, her whole body trembling in your arms as you continue to pound into her against the window.

"Oh god, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum again." She gasps, her arms tightening around your neck. "Don't stop, please don't stop, I'm right there."

Your thighs are burning from the effort of holding her up while fucking her, your arms aching from supporting her weight, but none of that matters. The only thing that matters is driving her over that edge, watching her fall apart on your cock, so you angle your hips to hit that spot she likes, the one that makes her voice go high and desperate, and hammer into her with everything you have.

"Cum for me." You growl against her ear. "Let go. Let me feel you."

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming, oh fuck—"

Her eyes roll back in her head. The orgasm hits her so hard that her entire body seizes up against you. Gaeul clings to you desperately, her arms locked around your neck and her legs squeezing your waist, trembling so violently that you have to brace yourself against the window to keep from dropping her.

"Oh my god!" she screams with her face buried in your neck. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…"

You hold her through it, staying buried deep inside her as she shakes and spasms. Her pussy continues to flutter around you, milking your cock with involuntary clenches that make it very difficult to maintain any semblance of control. You're close, painfully close, but you hold back because you want to see what she does next.

Eventually, the tremors subside. Gaeul goes limp in your arms, breathing hard, her small body completely wrung out.

"Holy shit." She lifts her head to look at you with eyes glassy and unfocused. "That was... wow. I think I blacked out for a second there."

"You okay?"

"Better than okay. But my legs are definitely not gonna work for a while." She unwraps herself from around you carefully, testing her stability. "Put me down?" You lower her gently until her feet touch the floor, your cock sliding out of her in the process. She wobbles slightly, grabbing onto your arm for support, and lets out a breathless laugh. "Yeah, walking is not happening right now." She looks down at your cock, still rock hard and glistening with her juices. "But we're not done with you yet."

She lowers herself to her knees in front of you. From this angle, looking up at you with those bright eyes and flushed cheeks, she looks cute and almost innocent despite everything you've just done.

Her hands go to her bralette, finding the clasp at the back. "This is getting in the way."

She unhooks it and lets the red lace fall away, revealing her small breasts fully for the first time since you started. They're just as perfect as you remember from the car, barely a handful each, with nipples that are hard and pink from arousal. She tosses the bralette aside carelessly, not caring where it lands.

Then her hand wraps around your cock and she starts stroking. "I want you to cover my tiny tits with cum." She says it matter-of-factly. "Just paint me with it. What do you think of that idea?"

"I think I really, really like that idea."

"Good answer." She grins up at you, her hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes along your shaft. "I've been thinking about it since we left the car. How hot it would be to have your cum all over my chest. Marking me up."

Her free hand comes up to cup your balls, rolling them gently in her palm while she continues to stroke. The dual sensation makes your head fall back, a groan escaping your throat. She's good at this, reading your reactions and adjusting her technique accordingly. "God, you're so hard." She marvels, squeezing your shaft. "Still. After everything we've done. Is this thing ever satisfied?"

"Not when you're around, apparently."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." She twists her wrist on the upstroke, drawing out another groan. "I'd offer to give you a titjob, but..." She glances down at her own chest with a rueful smile. "There's not much to work with here. Kind of hard to wrap these around anything."

"It's still hot like this." You assure her, watching her small hand work your thick shaft. "Really fucking hot."

"Yeah?" She seems pleased by that. "You don't mind that I'm not more... endowed?"

"I told you before. Your body is perfect."

"You're sweet." She punctuates the word with a particularly good stroke that makes your hips jerk. "And you're leaking like crazy. Look at that."

She's right. Precum is beading steadily at the tip of your cock, dripping down over her fingers as she strokes. She swipes her thumb across the head, gathering the slickness, and uses it to lubricate her movements. Her other hand continues its work on your balls, massaging them with gentle pressure. She seems fascinated by them, rolling them between her fingers, tugging gently, watching your face to see what you like.

"These feel so full." She observes. "Like they're ready to burst. How much cum are you gonna give me?"

"A lot, if you keep doing that."

"That's the goal." She speeds up her strokes slightly, finding a rhythm that has your toes curling against the carpet. "I want all of it. Every drop. Right here on my tits." She glances down at her own chest again, at those small perfect breasts with their hard pink nipples. "They might be tiny, but they make a good target. You can probably cover them completely. Maybe get some on my neck too. My face, if you aim right."

"You want it on your face?"

"I want it everywhere. I want to be dripping with you.” Her hand picks up speed on your cock, her grip tightening just slightly as she works you with efficiency, and her other hand continues its relentless massage of your balls, rolling them, squeezing gently, coaxing out what's been building inside you. "Come on." She urges, her eyes locked on yours. "Give it to me. I want it so bad. Want your hot cum all over my little tits."

Her dirty talk shifts into something more needy, more pleading.

"Please, I need it. I've been such a good slut for you, haven't I? Let you fuck me in the car, fuck me in my bed, against the window. I've cum so many times on your cock. Now I want my reward."

Your balls are tightening, that familiar pressure building at the base of your spine. She can feel it, can feel how close you are from the way your cock throbs in her hand, and she redoubles her efforts.

"That's it, that's it." She pants, stroking faster. "I can feel how full these are. So much cum waiting for me. Gonna cover me completely. Gonna make such a mess of my tiny tits."

"Gaeul..."

"Do it. Cum for me. Use me like the little cumslut I am. Paint me with it."

Her hand moves with lightning speed on your shaft now, her grip perfect, her pace relentless. The pressure builds and builds until it becomes unbearable, until every nerve ending in your body is screaming for release.

"Please please please." She begs, looking up at you with those wide desperate eyes. "Give me your cum. I need it. Need to feel it on my skin. Need to be marked by you. Please, I'll do anything, just cum on me, cum all over me..."

You explode.

The first rope of cum shoots out with enough force that it hits her chin before splattering down across her collarbone. She gasps in delight but doesn't stop stroking, milking your cock through the orgasm as jet after jet of thick white cum erupts from the tip. The second spurt lands directly on her left breast, coating the small mound and dripping down over her hard nipple. The third catches her right breast, painting it with a pearly streak that runs down to pool in the valley between them.

"Oh fuck yes." She moans, still stroking. "So much. You're giving me so much."

She aims your cock deliberately, directing the spurts across her chest like she's painting a canvas. Her tiny tits are quickly becoming obscured beneath layers of your cum. It drips down her stomach, pools in her cleavage, runs in rivulets toward her navel.

"More." She demands, squeezing your shaft from base to tip to coax out the last drops. "Give me more. I want all of it."

Your cock pulses weakly, a few final spurts adding to the mess already covering her chest. She milks you until there's nothing left, until you're shuddering from oversensitivity, and even then she doesn't stop immediately. Her hand slows but continues moving, gentle now, working out every last drop.

"Look at me." She breathes, finally releasing your shaft to gesture at herself. "I'm covered. Absolutely covered. This is so hot."

She looks down at her own chest with something like wonder, running her fingers through the cum pooling between her breasts. It's everywhere, coating her from collarbone to navel, thick and white against her flushed skin. Her nipples are barely visible beneath the mess.

"I want a little more."

Before you can process what she means, her mouth closes around the head of your cock.

"Fuck, Gaeul, I'm sensitive..." She ignores the protest, her lips sealed tight around the crown as she sucks gently. Her tongue swirls around the tip, lapping at the slit where the last traces of cum are leaking out. The sensation is too much, your nerves raw and overstimulated, but she doesn't relent.

Her hands slide around to grab your ass, fingernails digging into the muscle as she pulls you closer. She takes more of you into her mouth, her head bobbing slowly, working you with patient determination. You're still half-hard from the intensity of your orgasm, and her attention is rapidly bringing you back to full mast. "Gaeul..." You groan, your hands finding her hair. "I just came."

She hums around your cock in acknowledgment but doesn't stop. On the contrary, she doubles down, sucking harder, her tongue doing something incredible along the underside of your shaft. Your fingers tighten in her hair involuntarily, and she moans at the slight pull.

The second orgasm builds faster than you expected, your body apparently having reserves you didn't know about. She can feel it happening, can feel your cock swelling in her mouth, and she looks up at you with those dark eyes as she works to push you over the edge again.

"Gonna cum." You warn her. "Gaeul, I'm gonna..." You grab her head with both hands and thrust forward, driving your cock deeper into her mouth. She takes it without complaint, her throat opening to accept you, her hands on your ass pulling you even closer. The orgasm crashes through you and you spill directly down her throat, pulsing against her tongue as she swallows everything you give her.

She doesn't pull off until she's milked every last drop from you, her throat working to swallow, her lips maintaining their seal until there's nothing left. When she finally releases you, it’s with a soft wet sound and a satisfied smile.

"Your cum tastes really good." She informs you, licking her lips. "Like, genuinely. Some guys taste awful but you're actually pleasant. Must be the diet."

You have absolutely nothing to say to that. Your legs are shaking, your entire body wrung out from back-to-back orgasms, and the only thing you can think to do is collapse backward onto the bed. The mattress catches you, soft and welcoming, and you lie there staring at the ceiling while your heart rate slowly returns to normal. Your cock is finally, blessedly softening, thoroughly satisfied after everything it's been through this morning.

You feel the bed dip as Gaeul climbs up beside you. She crawls into your lap, straddling your thighs, and settles her weight against you. The cum coating her chest is starting to get sticky. "That was great." She says simply, her hands resting on your stomach. "Like, really great. Top tier sex."

"Yeah." You agree, still slightly dazed. "It really was."

She leans down and gives you a soft kiss. Her lips taste faintly of you and you don’t mind at all. Gaeul doesn’t hesitate to press her mouth against yours again, like it’s something you do all the time. When she pulls back, she pushes gently on your chest until you're lying flat on your back. Then she stretches out on top of you, her small body fitting perfectly against yours, her head tucked into the curve of your neck. Her cum-covered breasts press against your chest, warm and slick, and she makes no move to clean herself off.

"Let's stay like this for a little while." She murmurs against your skin. "Just cuddling. We have all day to have more sex. Let's take advantage of the day off and sleep a little. I'll make lunch later. Then we can continue. Fuck all day if we want. We've got nowhere to be. Nobody expecting us. Just you and me and this bed." She yawns. "And maybe the shower later. I've never had sex in my shower. Could be fun to try."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Mmm." She snuggles closer, one leg hooking over yours. "You're comfortable. Like a warm pillow. A warm pillow with a huge dick."

"That’s the most beautiful compliment I’ve ever received.”

"You're welcome." Your hand comes up to stroke her hair, running your fingers through the dark strands that have fallen loose around her face. She sighs at the touch. "That feels nice." She mumbles, her eyes already drifting closed. "Keep doing that."

You continue the gentle stroking, feeling her melt under your touch as the last of the tension slips out of her. Gaeul’s breathing gradually steadies, until her body grows heavy against yours and sleep finally takes her. Your cum is drying on her chest, warm and sticky between you, but neither of you bothers to move or clean up. That can wait.

After all, like she said, you’ve got the whole day ahead of you.

—

The day draws to a close and you find yourself standing in Gaeul's living room wearing the same clothes you arrived in this morning.

They're slightly wrinkled now, carrying the evidence of being hastily removed and put back on multiple times, but they're presentable enough. Gaeul, by contrast, has changed into the most comfortable thing she apparently owns: an oversized loose shirt that hangs past her thighs and shorts that are easily three sizes too big, bunched at the waist and falling past her knees.

She looks like a boy.

A very satisfied, very relaxed boy who spent the entire day getting fucked.

"That was a great day." She sighs contentedly, padding barefoot across her apartment to grab a glass of water. "Like, genuinely one of the best days I've had in months. Maybe years. We should do this more often."

"I wouldn't object to that."

"Good. It's settled then." She takes a long drink, then sets the glass down. "Anyway, I'll see you at work tomorrow. Try to look less thoroughly fucked than you do right now. HR will have questions."

Before you can respond, there's a knock at the door. Gaeul frowns, glancing toward the entrance with confusion.

"Who could that be?" She crosses to the door and pulls it open, and the woman standing on the other side immediately pushes past her into the apartment. She's tall, significantly taller than Gaeul, with long legs showcased by a short dress. A purse hangs from her shoulder and her expression is somewhere between annoyed and stressed.

"Why haven't you answered any of my messages?" She asks, clearly on edge, as she steps into the living room, not even looking around until she's already several steps inside. Then she spots you and stops abruptly. "Oh." Her eyes sweep over you with obvious assessment. "I didn't know you had company."

Gaeul closes the door and moves to stand between you. "This is my friend from work." She gestures toward you. "And this is Yujin. She lives in the building. She's a friend of mine.” No, it can’t be her… or can it?

“The same one from the sextape, by the way." Gaeul adds, confirming what you already suspected.

Yujin's head snaps toward her. "Hey, what?!"

"Oh, shit, right." Gaeul winces slightly, rubbing the back of her neck. "I completely forgot that we had arranged to have sex today. My bad. Things got... complicated this morning."

Yujin's gaze slides back to you. She looks you up and down again, this time with a knowing smirk. "Ah. I see why."

"I was just leaving, actually." You take a step toward the door, sensing that you've probably overstayed your welcome. "I'll let you two..."

"Wait." Gaeul holds up a hand to stop you. "Since you're both here anyway, we could easily make this a threesome. Could be fun. The more the merrier and all that."

Yujin's smirk vanishes instantly. "I'm not fucking him, sorry.”

"That's fine." You shrug, already reaching for your jacket. "You're not even my type."

The living room becomes still. Yujin turns to you, her face changing from unconcerned to openly offended in about two seconds flat.

"Excuse me? Are you crazy, blind, or both?" She gestures at herself with indignation. "I'm everyone's type. Look at me. I'm perfect. I have perfect bone structure, perfect proportions, perfect everything. People should ask for permission before even looking at me."

"It's not about looks." You reply calmly. "It's about personality. You seem kind of narcissistic."

"I am not..." She turns to Gaeul, clearly expecting backup. "Tell him. Tell him I'm his type and that I'm not narcissistic."

Gaeul winces again, looking genuinely apologetic. "I don't actually know what his type is, so I can't really speak to that." She pauses, then adds: "And honestly? You are kind of narcissistic. Like, a lot narcissistic. You spent twenty minutes last week talking about how good you look in natural lighting."

“That’s not…” Yujin sputters for a moment, then straightens her spine, reclaiming her dignity. “It doesn’t matter. I’m perfect, so I have every right to be a Marxist.”

"Marxist." You repeat slowly.

"I-I didn't say that."

"You definitely did." Gaeul interjects. "You said Marxist. I have big ears, I heard it clearly. You swapped narcissist for Marxist."

Yujin opens her mouth to argue, then seems to think better of it. "You know what? Fuck it. I am a Marxist too, okay? Can’t a girl be hot and politically aware anymore?" She crosses her arms defiantly. "Tax the rich. Feed the poor. Seize the means of production. Whatever. Can we move on?"

Gaeul claps her hands together, pleased that the argument is dying down. "Great! So we can either continue this fascinating political discussion out here, or we can all go to my bedroom and have a lot of fun. Your choice."

“Hey, hey, wait a second,” Yujin says. “Are you not going to explain this whole thing about you showing our video to some random nobody? I didn’t consent to that.”

"Here's what happened. I accidentally showed him our video this morning in the car. I just opened the video player and the video started playing out of nowhere. We talked about it, one thing led to another, and we ended up skipping work to fuck all day." She gestures between you and Yujin. "I've mentioned him to you before. He's my best friend at work. And I've mentioned you to him. So now seems like a good time for you two to actually meet properly. Without the hostility."

Yujin sighs heavily. "Fine. Whatever." She eyes you again, though with less animosity this time. "I hope your dick is at least big. I have standards."

"Well, it's bigger than yours."

She scoffs. "I highly doubt that."

You pause, processing the implication of her response. "Wait. Do you actually have a cock?"

"Obviously." She rolls her eyes like you've asked the stupidest question imaginable. "I never leave the house without it." Then she reaches into her purse and pulls out a strap-on, dangling it from one finger like it's a set of car keys.

"Okay, that was... unexpected."

"Just wait until you feel it in your ass, bitch."

"Nobody's fucking my ass today, sweetie."

"Sucks to be you. My ass is ready for it!" Gaeul raises her hand cheerfully, volunteering her own body for the cause.

Yujin nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm definitely fucking Gaeul's ass today. That was the original plan before you showed up and derailed everything."

"Actually, Gaeul promised me her ass earlier." You counter, remembering the offer she made against the window. "So technically I have dibs."

"What? You can't call dibs on someone's ass!"

"I just did."

"Okay, okay." Gaeul steps between you again, hands raised in a peacekeeping gesture. "I'm very flattered that you're both fighting over my ass, truly, but there's no need for conflict." She smiles brightly. "I can share. There's enough of me to go around. No fighting, please. We're all adults here."

Yujin and you exchange a look. It's not friendly, exactly, but it's not openly hostile anymore either. More like two people silently agreeing to a temporary truce for the sake of a mutual goal.

The three of you make your way down the hallway to Gaeul's bedroom, the same room where you spent most of the afternoon. The bed is still slightly rumpled from earlier activities, and Gaeul doesn't bother straightening it before turning to face you both.

"Do you want to listen to music during sex? Or an audiobook? I don't know." She taps her chin thoughtfully. "I went out with an architecture student once and he put on this audiobook about modern urbanization. There was this whole section about hostile architecture in big cities, you know, those benches designed so homeless people can't sleep on them and spikes in doorways and stuff. And I don't know what happened but something about it just got to me, and I ended up crying while I was having an orgasm. It was a very confusing experience."

You and Yujin look at each other again.

"No music." You say firmly.

"Agreed." Yujin nods. "No audiobooks either. Or podcasts. Or ambient noise. Just silence."

"Suit yourselves." Gaeul shrugs, already pulling her oversized shirt over her head to reveal bare skin underneath. She hadn't been wearing a bra. "I thought it might set the mood, but whatever."

You start unbuttoning your shirt, fingers working the same buttons you fastened just half an hour ago. Yujin does the same across the room, unzipping her dress and letting it pool at her feet. Underneath, she's wearing matching lingerie in deep purple. She extracts the strap-on from her purse with the casual ease of someone retrieving their phone or keys, tossing it onto the bed where it bounces once on the rumpled sheets. It's impressive, you have to admit. Sleek purple silicone, substantial in both length and girth, with a leather harness that looks well-worn from use. She catches you looking and smirks.

"Jealous?"

Before you can respond, she's already turned away, her attention shifting entirely to Gaeul, who at this point is already completely naked. She crosses the space between them in two long strides and pulls her friend into a kiss that's nothing like the ones you shared with Gaeul throughout the day. This is aggressive, possessive, Yujin's hand fisting in Gaeul's hair to tilt her head back while her other hand slides immediately between Gaeul's thighs.

Gaeul makes a soft sound against Yujin's mouth, her legs parting automatically to allow access. From where you're standing, you can see Yujin's fingers working between her legs, stroking through folds that are already glistening with arousal. Apparently, Gaeul's body doesn't need much prompting after the day you've had together.

"Already wet." Yujin murmurs against Gaeul's lips. "Were you thinking about me, or did your work friend do this to you?"

"Both." Gaeul admits breathlessly. "Definitely both."

"Slut."

"You say that like it's an insult."

Yujin laughs, then releases Gaeul with a gentle push toward the bed. "Go lie down. I need to have a word with your new toy."

Gaeul obeys without argument, climbing onto the mattress and settling against the pillows. Her eyes stay fixed on you and Yujin, watching with obvious interest as she stalks toward you. Yujin stops when she's inches away, close enough that you can smell her perfume and feel the warmth radiating off her skin. You’re both only in your underwear, and this whole intimidation game suddenly feels a lot sexier because of it. Then Yujin leans in until your noses are almost touching, her dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that's slightly unnerving.

"You'd better not ruin everything tonight."

"I expect the same from you."

There’s a moment where her expression gives something away. Interest, perhaps. Or grudging respect. Yujin is not easy to read.

Then she's kissing you. And it's nothing like kissing Gaeul. Where Gaeul was warm and playful and eager, Yujin is demanding and slightly mean. Her teeth catch your lower lip and bite down hard enough to sting, and when you hiss in response she pulls back with a satisfied smile.

Then she slaps you across the face. Your head snaps to the side from the impact. Your cheek stings, heat blooming across the skin, and when you turn back to look at her she's already pointing toward the bed.

"Lie down, bitch."

"You probably shouldn't hit people without asking first." Gaeul comments, mild and conversational.

Yujin doesn't even look at her.

"Shut up, or you're next."

"Actually." Gaeul sounds entirely too cheerful about this. "I'd kind of like that."

Now Yujin does turn, and the smile that spreads across her face is genuinely delighted, dimples appearing in her cheeks that transform her from intimidating to almost adorable for a split second. She crosses to the bed in three quick strides and delivers a slap to Gaeul's face that makes her friend gasp, her cheek immediately flushing red.

"Better?"

"Much." Gaeul grins despite (or maybe because of) the handprint forming on her skin. "Thank you."

"You're both insane." You observe, climbing onto the bed as instructed.

"Probably." Yujin agrees, not sounding remotely bothered by the assessment. "Now lie flat. Gaeul, mount him. I want to watch you take that cock."

You take off your boxes and settle onto your back, your erection already at full mast from watching their exchange. Gaeul moves immediately, swinging one leg over your hips to straddle you, her wet pussy hovering just above your shaft. She reaches down to grip your cock, positioning the head at her entrance, and sinks down with a ease that speaks to how many times you've been inside her today.

"Welcome back." She sighs contentedly as you fill her. "Missed you."

Yujin climbs onto the bed, and for a moment you think she's going to join Gaeul, maybe kiss her or play with her breasts. Instead, she swings her leg over your chest and keeps moving until she's positioned above your face, her back to you, facing Gaeul. Her purple panties are the only thing between your mouth and her pussy.

"I'm going to sit on your face." She announces, as if this wasn't already obvious. "And you're going to do a good job down there. Most men are absolute garbage in bed. Selfish, lazy, no technique whatsoever. You look like a fucking NPC, honestly. Basic as hell. But Gaeul seems to like you, so I'm hoping you're at least decent."

"You talk a lot."

She reaches back and grabs your hair, twisting hard enough to make your scalp sting.

"And you don't talk nearly enough. Save your mouth for something useful." She pulls her panties aside with her free hand, exposing her pussy directly above your face. She's neatly trimmed, her folds already glistening with arousal, and before you can prepare yourself she's lowering down onto your mouth.

The taste of her hits your tongue immediately. Different from Gaeul, muskier and more intense, with a tang that's distinctly her own. You start licking automatically, tracing through her folds, finding her clit and circling it with the tip of your tongue. Above you, you hear her sharp intake of breath.

"Oh. Okay. That's... not terrible."

Gaeul chooses that moment to start moving, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm that drives your cock in and out of her tight heat. The dual sensation is overwhelming, your tongue buried in Yujin's pussy while your cock is buried in Gaeul's, pleasure assaulting you from both directions simultaneously.

You can't see anything except Yujin's ass and thighs bracketing your head, but you can hear everything. Gaeul's soft moans as she rides you, the wet sounds of your cock sliding in and out of her. Yujin's increasingly heavy breathing as you work her clit. The creak of the bed beneath the combined weight of three bodies moving together.

"He's actually pretty good at this." Yujin sounds almost annoyed to admit it. "His tongue, I mean. I don't know about his dick."

"His dick is amazing." Gaeul responds between gasps. "Trust me. I've been riding it all day."

"All day? No wonder you forgot about our plans."

"Sorry. Got distracted by the massive cock."

"Understandable, I suppose."

You focus on eating Yujin's pussy with determination, partly because it feels good and partly because you want to prove that you're more than decent. Your tongue traces patterns through her folds, circling her clit before dipping lower to probe at her entrance. Her body responds in a different way than Gaeul’s does. Where Gaeul is vocal and reactive, Yujin seems to be fighting her own pleasure, her thighs tensing against your head every time you hit a particularly good spot.

Above you, you hear the unmistakable sound of kissing. They're making out while they use you, Gaeul bouncing on your cock and Yujin grinding on your face while their mouths meet somewhere above your field of vision.

Gaeul's pussy clenches around you as she shifts her angle, taking you deeper. Her pace is increasing, her movements becoming more urgent, and you thrust up to meet her, driving your cock as deep as it will go, and she cries out against Yujin's mouth.

"Fuck, that's good." Yujin breathes. "Keep going. Both of you. Don't you dare stop.”

You redouble your efforts on Yujin's pussy, your tongue working through her slick folds with a focused determination. You're finding her rhythm, learning what makes her breath catch, when suddenly she pushes her hips back further, angling herself differently above your face.

"Get my ass too." She says it as lightly as asking for the salt.

Her cheeks spread slightly with the new position, exposing her tight pink asshole just above your nose. You don't hesitate. Your tongue drags lower, tracing from her pussy up to that puckered ring, and you hear her sharp intake of breath when you make contact.

"Fuck. Okay. You're not completely useless."

High praise, apparently.

You grab her ass with both hands, spreading her cheeks wider to give yourself better access. The view is obscene from this angle (not that you can see much with your face buried between her thighs, but you can feel everything). Her asshole clenches against your tongue when you press against it, then relaxes as you work her open with patient, insistent strokes. You alternate between her holes, eating her pussy until she's grinding down on your face, then moving up to rim her ass until her thighs start trembling.

Meanwhile, Gaeul is bouncing on your cock madly. You can feel sweat dripping from somewhere above, either hers or Yujin's, landing on your chest and stomach as the three of you work together in this absurd, wonderful configuration.

"I don't know how I'm gonna function at work tomorrow." Gaeul's voice is strained, breathless, punctuated by the wet sounds of her pussy taking your cock over and over. "I've been having sex for like... god, how many hours? My legs are gonna be destroyed. My boss is gonna ask why I'm walking funny and I'm gonna have to lie and say I went to the gym."

"Then stop." Yujin suggests ironically.

"I can't stop." Gaeul whines. "It feels too good. His cock is like... I can't explain it. I physically cannot stop riding it." She proves her point by grinding down particularly hard, taking you to the hilt, and the sensation makes your hips buck up involuntarily. Your tongue stutters against Yujin's asshole and she makes a sound of displeasure. "Focus down there, bitch."

You spread her cheeks even wider and push your tongue against her ass. There's something deeply satisfying about the way she's responding, the way her composure is finally starting to crack. She was so dismissive of you earlier, so convinced you'd be garbage in bed, and now she's dripping onto your chin and her thighs are shaking and she can't quite keep the pleasure out of her voice when she speaks.

Gaeul's movements are becoming erratic above you, her rhythm faltering as she chases her peak. You can feel her pussy clenching around your cock, those telltale contractions that signal she's getting close. Her nails are probably leaving marks on your thighs where she's gripping for leverage.

"I'm close." She gasps. "Fuck, I'm so close, I'm gonna..."

"Wait,” Yujin cuts her off. "Wait for me. I'm almost there."

"Yujin, I can't..."

"You can and you will! You don't cum until I tell you to."

Gaeul whimpers, but her movements slow slightly. You can feel her fighting it, her pussy clenching and releasing around your cock as she tries to hold back the orgasm that's threatening to crash through her. Above you, Yujin reaches out, and you feel the shift in weight as she and Gaeul join hands for balance.

"Make me cum." The instruction is directed at you. "Quickly. She can't hold it much longer and I refuse to finish after her." You abandon her asshole entirely and focus all your attention on her pussy. Your tongue finds her clit and works it relentlessly, circling and flicking and sucking, using every technique you've learned today. Her thighs clamp around your head as the pleasure builds, her grip on your hair tightening to the point of pain.

"That's it." She pants above you. "That's it, keep going, don't stop, I'm right there..."

Gaeul is practically sobbing now, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. "Yujin, please, I can't, I really can't..."

"Almost... almost..."

You suck hard on Yujin's clit and push two fingers inside her pussy without warning, curling them against her front wall. The unexpected penetration combined with the suction seems to be exactly what she needs, because her entire body goes rigid above you. She cums with a sharp cry, her pussy clamping down on your fingers while her clit throbs against your tongue. You taste the fresh flood of her arousal, tangy and warm, and you lap it up greedily as she shakes and gasps through the waves of pleasure.

"Now." She manages to choke out. "You can cum now."

Gaeul screams. It's loud and completely uninhibited, her orgasm hitting the moment Yujin gives permission. Her pussy clamps down on your cock hard, rhythmic contractions that pulse around your shaft as she cums and cums and cums.

And then she squirts.

A sudden rush of hot liquid soaking your lower stomach and thighs. She's gushing around your cock, her body convulsing with the intensity of her release, her screams dissolving into broken whimpers as the orgasm tears through her. "Oh my god, oh fuck, it's too much, I can't..."

She pulls off your cock abruptly, the sudden loss of her tight heat making you groan. She's shaking so hard she can barely stay upright, and she reaches out to lean on Yujin for support. The problem is that Yujin is still weak from her own orgasm, her body trembling and her limbs unsteady. When Gaeul's weight shifts against her, she doesn't have the strength to support it.

"Wait, I can't—"

They both lose their balance simultaneously.

Gaeul goes tumbling off the side of the bed with a yelp, landing on the carpet with a soft thud. Yujin manages to catch herself on the headboard, barely avoiding the same fate, but Gaeul is gone.

"Gaeul?" You push yourself up on your elbows. "You okay?"

There's a moment of silence.

Then laughter. Bright, genuine, slightly hysterical laughter floating up from the floor. "I'm great." Her head appears over the edge of the mattress. "I just can't feel my legs. At all. I think you broke them."

She crawls back onto the bed rather than attempting to stand with movements uncoordinated and clumsy. She's still giggling as she makes her way toward you, and when she reaches your face she immediately dips down and starts licking. Her tongue traces over your chin, your cheeks, your lips, cleaning off the mess that Yujin left behind. She's tasting her friend on you, making soft sounds of appreciation as she works.

"Mmm. She tastes good."

"I know." Yujin has recovered enough to watch with interest. "I'm delicious."

"Modest, too."

Yujin rolls her eyes but moves to join her, positioning herself on your other side. Her tongue finds a spot Gaeul missed, dragging across the corner of your jaw, and suddenly you have two women licking your face clean in tandem.

It should be weird. It is weird. But it's also incredibly hot, their tongues working in counterpoint, occasionally meeting in the middle for a brief kiss before returning to their task. They're thorough, making sure they get every drop of Yujin's arousal from your skin.

When they're finally satisfied that you're clean, they turn toward each other and kiss, two women who clearly know each other's mouths intimately. Gaeul cups Yujin's face in her hands while Yujin's fingers tangle in Gaeul's messy hair. They share the taste of Yujin's cum between them, tongues sliding together in lazy exploration. You lie there watching, your cock still hard and aching, as two of the most beautiful women you've ever seen make out inches from your face.

Yujin pulls back from the kiss with Gaeul with a thin strand of saliva connecting their lips for a moment before breaking. She turns to look at you, that smug expression firmly in place, and tilts her head. "You like watching that?"

"It's not bad at all." You shrug, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Get me a bucket of popcorn and I could stay here comfortably. Maybe some Junior Mints."

"Funny." She says dismissively, but then she smiles and adds: "Okay, you'll like this then."

She doesn't need to say anything to Gaeul. They just move together like they've done this a thousand times before (which they probably have). Gaeul shifts closer and tilts her head back, opening her mouth wide. Her tongue extends slightly, waiting.

Yujin leans over her.

She spits slowly, deliberately, letting the saliva stretch from her lips before it lands on Gaeul's waiting tongue. The strand of spit descends in a perfect line, pooling in Gaeul's open mouth, and then Yujin closes the distance between them and seals their lips together.

The kiss is wet and filthy, the two of them sharing Yujin's spit between their mouths while you watch. When they finally separate, a mess of saliva connecting them, Yujin reaches up and wipes Gaeul's lower lip clean with her thumb. The gesture is somehow tender, contradicting everything about her abrasive personality.

"Good girl." Yujin murmurs. Gaeul practically glows at the praise.

Then Yujin is all business again, climbing off the bed and crossing to Gaeul's dresser. She opens the top drawer with the confidence of someone who knows exactly where everything is kept, rummaging for a moment before emerging with a bottle of lubricant.

"Time to start preparing this tight little ass." She announces, tossing the bottle in the air and catching it. "Here's the plan. I fuck Gaeul's ass first while you take her pussy. Then we switch. Everyone gets a turn everywhere. Sound good?"

You look at the strap-on still lying on the bed, then at Gaeul's petite body, then back at Yujin. "Yeah. Sounds good to me."

"I'm so happy you two are getting along now." Gaeul beams at both of you from her position on the bed. "See? I knew you'd like each other eventually."

"I can be quite diplomatic when it comes to sex." Yujin says, already climbing back onto the mattress with the lube in hand. "Speaking of which, what are you still doing lying around? On all fours. Now!"

Gaeul scrambles to comply, positioning herself in the center of the bed with her hands and knees on the mattress. Her ass is raised and presented, that tight little hole on display. Yujin settles behind her, popping the cap on the lubricant.

"At least her ass is used to this." She comments, squeezing a generous amount onto her fingers. "Makes my job easier. First time I fucked her back here, she was so tight I thought I was gonna break her."

"You almost did." Gaeul says. "I couldn't sit properly for two days."

"You loved every second of it."

"I did. Still do."

Yujin's slicked fingers make contact with Gaeul's asshole, circling the puckered ring with ease. Despite her harsh demeanor, her movements are careful, methodical. She's not rushing this. She presses one finger against the tight entrance and eases it inside slowly, watching Gaeul's body language for any signs of discomfort.

"How do you two know each other?" You ask suddenly. You're genuinely curious. Their dynamic is so easy, so practiced, that they've clearly been doing this for a while.

"Yujin moved into the building a few months ago." Gaeul starts, her breath hitching slightly as Yujin adds a second finger. "I was, ah, I was very welcoming. Helped her settle in. Showed her where the good takeout places were, introduced her to the super, that kind of thing."

"She was annoyingly friendly." Yujin adds, working her fingers in a slow scissoring motion. "I'm used to neighbors who ignore each other. She kept showing up with cookies and wine."

"One time, she showed up at my door drunk and crying."

Yujin's hand pauses momentarily. "We don't need to..."

"Her boyfriend had just broken up with her." Gaeul continues, ignoring the warning. "She was a mess. Could barely stand. I brought her inside and we talked for hours. I just held her and let her vent."

"She was very kind about it." Yujin admits quietly, resuming her preparation. "I was being pathetic and she didn't judge."

"One thing led to another, and..." Gaeul trails off with a meaningful glance back at Yujin. "We ended up having sex that night. Grief sex, I guess. And then we just... never stopped."

Yujin’s palm lands against Gaeul’s ass cheek with a sharp slap. “Stop telling people our private business.

"He's not people, he's practically my boyfriend at this point."

“Your first time with him was just hours ago."

“And it felt completely natural, like we’d been fucking for years.”

Yujin rolls her eyes but doesn't argue further, returning her attention to the task at hand. She's up to three fingers now, working them in and out of Gaeul's ass with patient, thorough strokes. The lube makes everything slick and easy, and Gaeul's body is accepting the intrusion without resistance.

Despite her meanness, it's obvious Yujin genuinely cares about not hurting Gaeul. She keeps checking in with small touches to Gaeul's lower back, adjusting her angle when Gaeul tenses even slightly, adding more lube whenever there's the slightest hint of friction.

"Okay." Yujin finally announces, withdrawing her fingers and wiping them on the sheets. "I think we're ready."

She stands up on the bed (slightly wobbly on the soft surface) and steps into the harness of the strap-on, pulling it up her thighs and tightening the straps until the purple silicone juts out proudly from her hips. She gives it an experimental stroke, checking the positioning, then nods in satisfaction.

"Get under her." She instructs you, gesturing at the space beneath Gaeul. "Face up. I want to be able to see both of you."

You maneuver yourself into position, sliding beneath Gaeul's suspended body until your cock is lined up with her dripping pussy. She looks down at you with those bright eyes and her hair falling around her face.

"Just to remind you both." She says quietly. "This is my first time doing double penetration."

"Wait, really?" You pause, suddenly more concerned about taking this slow.

"Really." She nods. "I've done anal plenty of times, obviously. And I've had threesomes before. But never both holes at once. So just... go slow at first? Please?"

"We've got you." Yujin's voice is uncharacteristically gentle as she positions herself behind Gaeul. "Just relax and let us do the work. If anything hurts, say something."

You reach up to grip Gaeul's hips, holding her steady as you guide the head of your cock to her entrance. At the same time, you feel the bed shift as Yujin kneels behind her, the tip of the strap-on pressing against Gaeul's well-prepared asshole.

"On three." Yujin says. "One... two..."

You both push forward simultaneously. Gaeul gasps, her whole body going rigid between you. Her eyes roll back slightly and she trembles, caught between the sensation of your cock sliding into her pussy and Yujin's strap pressing into her ass. You go slow, giving her time to adjust, feeling her walls stretch to accommodate you.

"Oh my god." She breathes. "Oh my god, that's... that's a lot."

"Too much?"

"No, it's... just give me a second."

You hold still, fighting the urge to thrust up into her tight heat. You can feel the pressure of the strap-on through the thin wall separating her pussy from her ass. Yujin is going just as slowly, easing forward in increments, letting Gaeul's body adjust to being so thoroughly filled.

"So tell me about work,” Yujin says casually.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"Your work relationship." She clarifies, still slowly pressing deeper. "Gaeul talks about you all the time. Her best friend at the office. Apparently you cover for her when she needs to leave early, bring her coffee when she's stressed. Very knight in shining armor."

"I wouldn't say..."

"He's really sweet." Gaeul manages. "We started on the same day, actually. New hire orientation together. He was so nervous, it was adorable."

"I was not adorable."

"You were very adorable." She insists, her body slowly relaxing around you as the conversation continues. "You spilled coffee on your shirt and tried to hide it with your notebook. And then I showed you where the secret bathroom was, the one that's always empty on the third floor, and you looked at me like I'd given you the keys to the kingdom."

Yujin snorts. "That's pathetic."

"It was endearing." Gaeul corrects. "And then today, after the whole video thing, I just... I don't know. Something clicked. Like, why have we been dancing around this for months when we could have been doing this the whole time?"

"Because normal coworkers don't fuck in parking lots,” you say.

"Our loss. Hey, by the way, I was thinking about dyeing my hair pink. Opinions? Would it look good on me, or would I look like some random K-pop idol?”

“I think it’d be really pretty on you,” you comment.

“Dye it,” Yujin grins. “You’re gonna be so fucking cute, and the cuter you get, the more I’m gonna want to fuck you hard.”

Before you fully register the shift, both you and Yujin are completely buried inside her. Your cock is sheathed to the hilt in her pussy, Yujin's strap-on fully seated in her ass, and Gaeul is sandwiched between you with tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." She nods with a trembling smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm really okay. Just... full. Really, really full.”

You begin to move first, a slow experimental thrust upward that makes Gaeul whimper. A second later, Yujin matches your rhythm, pulling back as you push in, then driving forward as you withdraw. The coordination takes a moment to find, the two of you adjusting to each other's pace, but once you sync up the effect on Gaeul is immediate and devastating.

"Oh fuck." She gasps, her arms trembling where they support her weight. "Oh fuck, that's... you're both..."

"Good girl." Yujin says reassuringly. "Such a good girl, letting us use you like this. Taking both of us at once like the perfect little slut you are."

The rhythm builds slowly, neither of you rushing. Every thrust fills Gaeul completely, your cock buried in her pussy while Yujin's strap stretches her ass, and the thin wall between the two passages means you can feel the pressure of the silicone against your shaft with every movement. It's an unfamiliar sensation but an incredible one.

Yujin reaches down and grabs Gaeul's ass cheeks, spreading them wide to give herself a better angle. This position lets her drive deeper, and you watch (from your vantage point beneath Gaeul's suspended body) as the purple strap disappears into that tight ring over and over. Yujin's fingers dig into the soft flesh, leaving red marks, and Gaeul moans louder at the combination of sensations.

"Look at you." Yujin murmurs, still spreading her open. "Taking it so well. Both holes stuffed full and you're just begging for more. Did you know you could be this slutty?"

"I suspected."

"Mmm. I'm glad we're confirming it."

Yujin releases one of Gaeul's cheeks and reaches up to her own chest, fumbling with the clasp of her bra. The purple lace comes undone and she shrugs it off her shoulders, letting it fall somewhere behind her on the bed. Her breasts spill free, larger than Gaeul's, swaying slightly with each thrust of her hips. Her torso is sheened with sweat, the exertion of fucking making her skin glisten in the evening light.

She catches you looking and smiles. "How am I doing up here?"

The question catches you off guard. You take in the sight of her: tall and lithe, her body moving with grace as she drives into Gaeul, her hair sticking to her damp forehead, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. There's something almost regal about her like this, commanding, powerful and completely in control.

"You look like an Amazon."

Her hand comes down hard on Gaeul's ass. "Did you hear that?" She demands. "Your friend just said I look like an Amazon. He knows how to compliment a woman."

Gaeul moans, but the sound is muffled against the pillow. "He's a gentleman."

"He really is." Yujin agrees, her pace never faltering. "Most men would say something crude like 'you look hot' or 'nice tits.' But an Amazon? That's classical. That's mythological. That's showing respect for my warrior queen energy."

You thrust up particularly hard, making Gaeul cry out, and Yujin's grin widens. "I like him." She announces to no one in particular. "I've decided. He can stay."

"Glad I passed the test."

"Don't get cocky. You're still on probation." Her eyes drift to the right, catching her own reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall. Whatever she sees there makes her smile grow even wider, dimples appearing in her cheeks. She adjusts her angle slightly, still fucking Gaeul with steady strokes, but now she's watching herself do it. "You're right." She says. "I do look amazing like this."

She rolls her hips in a way that's clearly more for the mirror than for Gaeul's pleasure, admiring the way her body moves. The narcissism should be off-putting, but there's something endearing about how genuinely delighted she is by her own reflection.

"Look at me." She continues, still staring at herself. "I'm like a goddess. A sex goddess. Fucking this cute little slut while her new fucktoy watches from below. This should be a painting."

"Your humility is truly inspiring,” you say.

"Shut up, I'm having a moment." She turns her head slightly, finding the angle she likes best, and thrusts into Gaeul while maintaining eye contact with her own reflection.

Gaeul laughs breathlessly beneath you, her body shaking with both amusement and pleasure. "She does this sometimes." She manages between moans. "Gets distracted by mirrors. I've learned to just let it happen."

"I am not distracted." Yujin protests, still watching herself. I contain multitudes. I can appreciate my own beauty and fuck you senseless at the same time.

"You contain something, that's for sure."

Another sharp slap lands on Gaeul's already reddening ass. "Watch it, slut." But Yujin is smiling as she says it, and when she finally tears her gaze away from the mirror to look down at where all three of your bodies are connected, she runs her hand down Gaeul's spine, a surprisingly gentle touch, before returning her grip to those spread cheeks and resuming her demanding pace.

You and Yujin find a shared rhythm that has Gaeul keening between you. Every time you thrust up into her pussy, Yujin pulls back from her ass, and then you withdraw as Yujin drives forward. The alternating fullness is clearly overwhelming her, her body trembling with the constant stimulation, never empty, always stuffed with one of you or the other or both.

"That's it." Yujin says, breathing slightly heavily. "Take it. Take both of us like the greedy little slut you are." Her hand comes down on Gaeul's ass again, adding another layer of red to the already crimson cheeks. The flesh jiggles with the impact and Gaeul cries out, her pussy clenching around your cock in response to the pain-pleasure combination.

"Look at this ass." Yujin marvels, rubbing the abused flesh before striking it again. "So red. So pretty. You love being marked up, don't you?"

"Yes." Gaeul whimpers. "Yes, I love it, please don't stop."

"Wasn't planning on it."

You thrust up harder, burying yourself to the hilt, and feel Gaeul's walls flutter around you. She's getting close, you can tell from the way her body is responding, the increasing desperation in her movements as she tries to push back against both of you simultaneously.

"Harder." She begs. "Both of you, please, harder."

You and Yujin exchange a glance over Gaeul's trembling back. Some kind of understanding passes between you, a agreement to give her exactly what she's asking for. You grip her hips tighter, finding purchase, and Yujin does the same with her spread cheeks.

Then you both start fucking her in earnest.

The bed creaks violently beneath the three of you, the headboard knocking against the wall with each synchronized thrust. Gaeul's moans have dissolved into something incoherent, broken sounds of pleasure that don't form words anymore. Her arms give out and she collapses forward onto your chest, unable to support herself, leaving you and Yujin to do all the work.

"There you go." Yujin pants, sweat dripping from her forehead onto Gaeul's back. "Just lie there and take it. Let us use you. That's all you're good for right now, isn't it? Just a set of holes for us to fuck."

The dirty talk makes Gaeul clench impossibly tighter around you. You can feel the pressure of Yujin's strap through the thin membrane separating Gaeul's passages, the silicone rubbing against your cock with every thrust. It adds friction you weren't expecting, intensity that has your own orgasm building faster than you'd like.

"She's so tight." You manage to grunt out.

"She's always tight." Yujin agrees, her hips never stopping their relentless pace. "Even after I've fucked her open a hundred times, she always bounces back. It's like her body was designed for this." Another slap lands on Gaeul's ass, harder than the previous ones, and Gaeul screams into your chest.

"You like that?" Yujin demands. "Like being spanked while you're stuffed full of cock?"

"Yes, yes, yes..."

"Then say thank you."

"Thank you." Gaeul gasps immediately. "Thank you, thank you, please don't stop, I'm so close, I'm so fucking close..."

Yujin's eyes meet yours again over the expanse of Gaeul's shaking back. "Make her cum." She orders. "Give her everything you've got. I want to feel her fall apart."

You adjust your angle, tilting your hips to hit that spot inside her that made her scream earlier. At the same time, Yujin increases her pace, driving the strap into Gaeul's ass with punishing strokes. The coordination is seamless now, both of you working together toward the same goal, using Gaeul's body in perfect tandem.

"Oh god." Gaeul's voice is muffled against your chest but you can hear the desperation in it. "Oh god, oh god, I can't, it's too much, I'm gonna..."

"Not yet," Yujin commands. "You don't cum until I say you can."

Gaeul whines, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. You can feel her pussy fluttering around your cock, right on the edge, fighting against the orgasm that's trying to crash through her. Yujin is cruel, keeping her there, fucking her relentlessly while denying her the release she's desperate for.

"Please." Gaeul begs. "Yujin, please, I can't hold it, I need to cum, please let me cum..."

"What do you say?"

"Please, Mistress, please let me cum, I'll do anything, please..."

The title makes Yujin smile, dimples appearing in her flushed cheeks. "Good girl." She purrs, her hand coming down for one final devastating slap. "Now cum."

Gaeul detonates.

There's no other word for what happens to her body. She comes apart completely, every muscle seizing at once. You feel the contractions ripple through her, feel the pressure increase against the strap in her ass, feel her entire frame shudder and jerk between you and Yujin.

The sound she makes isn't human. It's a raw scream that probably carries through the walls to every neighboring apartment. Her nails dig into your shoulders hard and her hips buck uncontrollably, grinding against you and back against Yujin as the orgasm tears through her in waves.

"That's it." Yujin encourages, still moving inside her, drawing out the pleasure. "Let it go. Give us everything." Gaeul cums for what feels like minutes, her body wracked with aftershocks that have her twitching and whimpering long after the initial peak passes. When she finally goes limp, collapsing fully onto your chest, she's barely conscious. Her eyes are unfocused, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her whole body still trembling with residual pleasure.

Yujin pulls out slowly, carefully, and you feel the pressure in Gaeul's pussy decrease as the strap withdraws from her ass. She makes a small sound of loss at the emptiness but doesn't move, can't move, completely spent.

"I think we broke her." Yujin observes, sounding entirely too pleased with herself.

"Give her a minute."

You wrap your arms around Gaeul's limp form, holding her against your chest while she recovers. Your cock is still buried inside her, still hard, but you don't move, just let her rest. Yujin sits back on her heels.

"You okay?" You murmur the question against Gaeul's hair.

"Mmhmm." She manages, still not moving. "Just need... a second. You two are... a lot."

"That's fair."

Yujin snorts. "She can handle it. She's tougher than she looks." But her hand reaches out to stroke down Gaeul's spine. "Take your time, babe. We're not going anywhere."

A few minutes pass. Gaeul's breathing returns to normal and eventually she stirs, lifting her head from your chest to look up at you with hazy eyes.

"Hi."

"Hi yourself."

"That was..." She trails off, apparently unable to find adequate words. "Yeah."

"Eloquent," Yujin teases.

"Shut up. You try being double-fucked into oblivion and see how articulate you are after."

She pushes herself up slowly, wincing slightly as your cock shifts inside her. You let her set the pace as she lifts herself off you. She rolls onto her side, boneless and satisfied, and you finally get a good look at the state of her ass. The cheeks are bright red, almost purple in some spots, covered in overlapping handprints.

"So." Yujin breaks the comfortable silence. "What position now? We still need to switch. Someone hasn't had a turn in that tight little ass yet." She gestures at your cock, still standing at attention despite everything.

Gaeul turns to look at you, smiling. "He fucked me against the window earlier." She tells Yujin. "Held me up in the air the whole time. Just standing there with his cock inside me while I wrapped around him like a koala."

Yujin raises an eyebrow. "Show-off."

"It was hot."

"Whatever. I can do that too." She stands up from the bed, stretching her long limbs. "Get up, both of you. I'll show you how it's really done."

You climb off the bed, your legs slightly unsteady but functional. Yujin positions herself at the foot of the bed, the strap-on still jutting proudly from her hips, and holds out her arms toward Gaeul.

"Jump."

Gaeul hesitates for only a second before complying, pushing herself off the mattress and launching herself at Yujin. She catches her easily, hands gripping under her thighs, and Gaeul's legs wrap around her waist instinctively.

"You're so strong." Gaeul marvels, her arms looping around Yujin's neck.

"Of course I am, babe." Yujin adjusts her grip, settling Gaeul's weight more securely. "I do Pilates."

You move into position behind Gaeul, your chest pressing against her back. Her ass is right there, well-prepared from all the earlier attention, and your cock throbs at the prospect of finally being inside it. You grip her hips to steady yourself, feeling Yujin's hands just below yours where they support Gaeul's thighs.

"Ready?" Yujin asks, shifting to position the head of the strap at Gaeul's pussy.

You press the tip of your cock against Gaeul's slick asshole, feeling the ring of muscle flutter at the contact. "Ready.”

You push forward slowly, the head of your cock pressing against Gaeul's well-prepared asshole. The muscle resists for just a moment before yielding, opening up to accept you, and then you're sliding inside and the sensation is nothing like her pussy. This is tighter, deliciously tight, her ass gripping your shaft like a velvet vice as you ease deeper inch by inch.

"Holy fuck." You take a deep breath. "She's so tight back here."

"Told you." Yujin grunts from the front, adjusting her grip on Gaeul's thighs as she simultaneously pushes the strap upward into her pussy. "Her ass is unreal. First time I fucked it I almost came just from the visual."

"You don't even have nerve endings in that thing,” Gaeul points out.

"It's called empathy orgasms, look it up."

Gaeul laughs breathlessly between you, the sound dissolving into a moan as you bottom out inside her. She's completely stuffed now, your cock filling her ass while Yujin's strap stretches her pussy, and the thin wall between the two passages means you can feel the silicone rubbing against your shaft with every micro-movement.

"Give me a second." Gaeul pants, her arms tightening around Yujin's neck. "Just... adjusting."

You hold still, fighting every instinct that's screaming at you to move. The heat of her ass is incredible, the pressure almost overwhelming, and you have to actively focus on not thrusting. Yujin is more patient than you expected, keeping the strap motionless inside Gaeul's pussy while she waits.

"Okay." Gaeul finally breathes. "Okay, I'm good. You can move."

You and Yujin start at the same time, that coordinated rhythm you found earlier coming back naturally. When you pull back, she pushes in. When she withdraws, you thrust forward. Gaeul is never empty, always full of one or both of you, and the sounds she's making suggest she's absolutely losing her mind.

"This position." She gasps, her head falling back against your shoulder. "Oh my god, this position. I can feel both of you everywhere. You're both pressed against me, I can feel your chest on my back and your tits on my front and I'm just... sandwiched."

"That's generally how threesomes work." Yujin observes dryly.

"No, but like..." Gaeul struggles to articulate through her moans. "This is why I love being bi. Best of both worlds. I get her gorgeous body against my front and his gorgeous body against my back and both of you inside me at the same time. Why would anyone limit themselves to just one gender when you could have this?"

"Valid point,” you say.

"I'm making very valid points for someone getting double-fucked right now."

Yujin snorts and shuts her up with a kiss, capturing Gaeul's mouth in a demanding press of lips and tongue. You watch from over Gaeul's shoulder as they make out, Yujin taking control immediately, biting Gaeul's lower lip hard enough to make her whimper into the kiss. Their tongues slide together and you can see glimpses of the wetness shared between their mouths.

When they break apart, Gaeul turns her head toward you, craning her neck at an awkward angle. You meet her halfway, kissing her deeply, tasting traces of Yujin on her lips. It's different from the kisses you shared earlier, messier and more desperate, interrupted by moans every time you or Yujin thrust particularly deep.

"You two are disgusting." Yujin comments, watching you kiss. "In a hot way. Keep going." You smile against Gaeul's mouth and keep kissing her, your hips maintaining their steady rhythm in her ass. The angle is incredible from this position, letting you drive deep while Gaeul's body weight helps push her back onto your cock with every stroke. "Okay, break it up." Yujin finally demands. "She's mine too."

She claims Gaeul's mouth again, more aggressively this time, and you focus on the sensation of her tight ass gripping your shaft. You can feel every flutter and clench of her muscles, every involuntary squeeze when Yujin hits a good spot with the strap. It's like her whole body is responding to both of you simultaneously.

"Look at you." Yujin murmurs against Gaeul's lips, pulling back just enough to speak. "Stuffed full of cock like the desperate little slut you are. You can't even function without something in your holes, can you?"

"No." Gaeul whimpers.

"No what?"

"No, Mistress."

"That's right." Yujin smiles mischievously. "You're just a set of holes for us to use. A pretty little fucktoy that exists for our pleasure. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And you love it."

"I love it so much." Gaeul swallows hard before continuing: "I love being used. I love being full. I love that you're both inside me right now, using me however you want."

Yujin's eyes flick up to meet yours over Gaeul's shoulder, that smug smile on her lips. "Hear that? She loves it. She's thanking us for treating her like a whore." Her attention returns to Gaeul. "What do you say when someone gives you two cocks at once?"

"Thank you."

"Louder."

"Thank you!" Gaeul's voice rises to nearly a shout. "Thank you for fucking me! Thank you for using me! thank you for making me your slut!”

"Good girl." The praise makes Gaeul clench around both of you, her ass squeezing your cock so tight you have to grit your teeth against the surge of pleasure. Yujin notices your reaction and her smile widens.

"She likes being called a good girl almost as much as she likes being called a whore. Isn't that pathetic? She gets off on both ends of the spectrum. Tell her she's worthless, she cums. Tell her she's precious, she cums. She's basically a praise and degradation slut all rolled into one convenient package."

"Sounds efficient."

"It really is." Yujin agrees. "Watch this." She turns back to Gaeul and her expression shifts to something cunningly tender. "You're doing so well, baby. Taking both of us like a champion. Such a perfect girl." Gaeul whimpers, her pussy visibly clenching around the strap. "And now..." Yujin drops the softness entirely and says: "You're a pathetic cock-drunk whore who can't even stand on her own two feet because she needs to be held up while two people destroy her holes!”

Gaeul's whole body shudders between you.

"See? Works every time."

You increase your pace in her ass, the tight ring of muscle dragging along your shaft with every thrust. The friction is unbelievable, so much different from her pussy, tighter and more intense. You can feel yourself getting closer with every stroke.

"Her ass is incredible." You tell Yujin, not bothering to pretend Gaeul isn't right there listening. "So fucking tight. Like nothing I've ever felt."

"Right? I've been telling her for months she needs to share it more." Yujin punctuates this with a hard thrust that makes Gaeul yelp. "She's been hoarding this perfect ass all to herself. It's practically criminal."

"I haven't been hoarding it."

"You definitely have. When's the last time someone other than me fucked you here?"

Gaeul hesitates, apparently counting.

"See? Hoarding." Yujin slaps her thigh since she can't reach her ass in this position. "Selfish little slut."

"I'm not selfish, I'm just... selective."

"You're getting less selective as of today." Yujin informs her. "Anyone I approve of gets access to all three holes from now on. That's the new rule."

"Don't I get a say in this?"

"You get a say in who I approve." Yujin concedes. "But once approved, full access. No more holding back."

You thrust particularly deep and Gaeul loses whatever protest she was about to make, the words dissolving into a moan. Yujin takes advantage of her distraction to capture her mouth again, kissing her roughly while maintaining the rhythm of her hips.

"Tell me how it feels." Yujin demands, breaking the kiss. "Tell me exactly what you're feeling right now."

"Full." Gaeul gasps immediately. "So full I can barely think. Your strap is hitting that spot in my pussy, the one that makes my legs go numb. And his cock in my ass is... it's so big, I can feel it everywhere, it's like he's rearranging my insides."

"More."

"I feel like I'm being split open. In the best way. Like my body wasn't designed to take this much but it's doing it anyway because I'm too greedy to stop. I can feel you both rubbing against each other through me and it's making me lose my mind."

"And what are you?"

"I'm a slut." The admission comes immediately, without hesitation. "I'm your slut. Both of yours. I'm a desperate little whore who can't get enough cock and I never want this to stop."

Yujin's dimples appear as she smiles. "Good answer, babe.”

The rhythm continues, all three of you moving together in that suspended configuration. Sweat drips down Yujin's temples as she maintains her grip on Gaeul's thighs, her arms straining with the effort but her pace never faltering. You can feel the burn in your own muscles from helping support Gaeul's weight, but the tight heat of her ass wrapped around your cock makes it impossible to care about anything as mundane as physical exhaustion.

"I could get used to this." Yujin admits between thrusts, her eyes meeting yours over Gaeul's shoulder. "The three of us. It's a good dynamic. She's never this well-behaved when it's just us."

"I'm always well-behaved." Gaeul protests weakly.

"You're a brat when it's just us. Having an audience keeps you in line." Yujin punctuates this with a particularly hard thrust that makes Gaeul squeal. "But don't think this means you've passed inspection yet." It takes you a moment to realize she's addressing you now. "I still need to verify that this cock is as good as advertised. Gaeul's opinion is biased. She'd fuck anything at this point."

"Hey." Gaeul sounds genuinely offended.

"Am I wrong?"

A pause.

"No, but still."

Yujin smirks.

"I'll only believe the hype when I feel it stretching my pussy myself. Until then, you're on probation."

"I guarantee it's good." Gaeul moans, her head falling back against your shoulder. "It's so good, Yujin. He made me cum like six times today. Maybe seven. I lost count."

"That could just mean you're easy."

"I'm not easy, I'm responsive. There's a difference."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

You thrust deeper into Gaeul's ass, reminding both of them that you're still very much present and active. The tight ring of muscle clenches around your shaft and Gaeul's protest dissolves into an incoherent moan.

"There he is." Yujin observes with amusement. "Getting competitive. I like that. Most men get threatened when you question their abilities. He's just trying to prove himself. It's almost cute."

"It's very cute." Gaeul manages. "He's cute. His cock is cute. Everything about this is cute."

"Your vocabulary really suffers when you're getting fucked."

"I'm being double-penetrated while suspended in midair. Cut me some slack."

Yujin laughs. She leans forward and presses a kiss to Gaeul's forehead, surprisingly tender, before resuming her punishing pace with the strap. "Fine. You get a pass. But only because you're taking us so well. Look at you, baby. Stuffed full in both holes, completely helpless, depending on us to hold you up. You'd fall right to the floor if we let go, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And you love that. You love being at our mercy."

"I love it so much." Gaeul moans. "I love that you're both in control and I'm just... here. Being used. Being filled."

"That's right." Yujin's tone turns honeyed, that sweet dominance she does so well. "You're our perfect little toy. Existing for our pleasure. Making those pretty sounds while we take what we want from your body."

Gaeul whimpers and you feel her ass clench impossibly tighter around your cock. The pressure is incredible and you can feel your orgasm building faster than you'd like. The combination of her tight heat, the visual of Yujin fucking her from the front, and the sounds of her desperate moans is pushing you toward the edge with alarming speed.

"She's squeezing me so hard." You grunt, your hips never stopping their rhythm. "I don't know how much longer I can last."

"Already?" Yujin sounds unimpressed. "Amateur."

"I've cum like four times today."

"Excuses. Fine. If you're going to finish, at least make it count. Fill her up properly. I want to see it dripping out of her when you're done." She turns her attention back to Gaeul. "And you. You're going to take every drop like a good girl, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"You're going to feel him cum in your ass and thank him for it."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good." Yujin's eyes meet yours again. "You heard her. She wants it. Give it to her."

Your pace increases, driving into Gaeul's ass with more force. The tight ring of muscle stretches around your shaft with each stroke. You can feel every clench and flutter of her body, every involuntary squeeze as Yujin hits a good spot with the strap.

"Please." Gaeul begs. "Please cum in me. I need it. I need to feel you filling me up."

"You're so pathetic." Yujin observes fondly. "Begging for cum like a whore."

"I am a whore. Your whore. His whore. Both of yours."

"That's right." Yujin thrusts particularly hard. "And whores get rewarded when they behave. Have you behaved tonight?"

"Yes, I've been good, I've taken everything you gave me, please let him cum in me, please..."

The begging is pushing you closer. Your grip on her hips tightens, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and you feel your balls drawing up tight against your body. "I'm close." You warn.

"I know." Yujin cuts in, brooking no argument. "Cum. Now. Fill her slutty little ass with everything you've got."

You lose control.

Your hips slam forward one final time, burying yourself to the hilt in Gaeul's tight ass, and the orgasm crashes through you in relentless waves that have your toes curling and your vision blurring. Your cock pulses violently, rope after rope of thick cum erupting deep inside her, flooding her insides with heat. You can feel your release coating her walls, filling her up, marking her from the inside out.

Gaeul screams.

Her eyes roll back in her head, showing white, and her whole body convulses between you and Yujin. The sensation of your hot cum painting her insides seems to trigger something in her, a sympathetic pleasure response that has her shaking and moaning and clenching around you painfully hard.

"Oh god, I can feel it." She gasps, barely coherent. "I can feel you cumming in me. So much. So hot. It's filling me up."

"Take it." Yujin commands. "Take every drop."

You continue pulsing inside her, the orgasm seeming to go on forever. Weeks of pent-up frustration, multiple orgasms throughout the day, and you're still somehow producing more. Your cock throbs and twitches inside her tight ass, emptying everything you have left into her willing body.

"There's so much." Gaeul whimpers. "He's still cumming. How is there still more?"

"Because you're worth it, apparently." Yujin sounds almost impressed. "Look at you. Stuffed full of cum like the greedy little slut you are."

Finally, the pulses begin to subside. You stay buried inside her for a long moment, catching your breath, feeling the last weak spurts of your release add to the mess already filling her. Your legs are trembling, your arms aching, your entire body wrung out from the intensity of the orgasm.

"I'm going to pull out." You warn her.

"Slowly." Yujin instructs. "I want to see."

You withdraw inch by inch, your softening cock dragging through the cum-slicked channel of her ass. Gaeul whimpers at the sensation, oversensitive and overfull, and when you finally slip free the result is exactly what Yujin wanted.

Her asshole gapes slightly, that tight ring stretched and reddened from use. And from that open hole, thick white cum begins to leak out. It oozes slowly at first, then flows more freely, dripping down toward her pussy in a steady stream of your release.

"Now that." Yujin observes with satisfaction. "That's a mess. Good job. You might pass inspection after all."

She carefully lowers Gaeul to the floor, keeping hold of her until she's sure her friend can stand on her own. Gaeul wobbles but stays upright, cum still trickling down her inner thighs as she turns to face both of you.

"That was amazing." She breathes, face still flushed and her eyes still slightly unfocused. "Best session ever. Officially."

"It's not over yet." Yujin warns. She steps out of the harness, letting the strap-on fall to the floor with a soft thud, then she slowly takes off her panties and fixes you with a dangerous stare. "I haven't cum yet." She points out. "And I want to taste that cum Gaeul keeps raving about. See what all the fuss is." Her eyes drop to your cock, hanging semi-hard between your legs, still glistening with the remnants of your orgasm. "You'd better have more stored up in those balls. Because I'm not leaving unsatisfied."

Without waiting for a response, she drops to her knees on the carpet. One hand reaches out and grabs Gaeul's wrist, pulling her down to kneel beside her.

"Come on. We're doing this together." Gaeul settles into position without complaint, and suddenly you're looking down at two beautiful women kneeling before you, both staring up at your cock with obvious intent.

"Come closer." Yujin orders.

You step forward on unsteady legs, and her hand wraps around your shaft, fingers cool against your heated flesh. Yujin's hand begins moving along your shaft with slow strokes. Her grip is firm, confident. The sensation makes your still-sensitive cock twitch in her palm, and she smirks at the response.

"Still got some life in him." She observes. "Good. I was worried you'd be useless after that display."

Beside her, Gaeul shifts closer, and you watch as her hand slides between Yujin's thighs. Her breath catches almost imperceptibly when Gaeul's fingers make contact with her pussy, finding the slick heat that's been building throughout the entire session.

"Someone's wet." Gaeul teases.

"Shut up and focus,” Yujin says, but her composure is cracking slightly as Gaeul's fingers begin working in slow circles around her clit. She compensates by tightening her grip on your cock, stroking faster.

Gaeul leans in and drags her tongue along the side of your shaft, following the path of Yujin's hand. The wet warmth of her mouth combined with the firm pressure of Yujin's fingers creates a sensation that has your hips bucking forward involuntarily. Your cock is hardening again, filling out in Yujin's grip, and she makes a sound of approval.

"There we go. I knew you had more in there." She guides the head toward her own mouth and takes you in, her lips stretching around your girth as she sucks firmly on just the tip. Her tongue swirls around the crown, teasing the sensitive underside, and you groan at the sensation. Meanwhile, Gaeul's mouth has found your balls, licking and sucking gently while her hand continues its work between Yujin's legs.

They trade off without speaking, an incredible harmony that has Yujin pulling back so Gaeul can take over. Gaeul's technique is different, messier and more enthusiastic, taking you deeper into her throat before retreating to lap at the head. Yujin watches with hooded eyes, her hips starting to rock against Gaeul's fingers.

"That's it." Yujin breathes, though it's unclear if she's talking to you or Gaeul or both. "Just like that."

Gaeul pulls off your cock with a wet noise and Yujin reclaims it immediately, bobbing her head in a steady rhythm while Gaeul trails kisses along your shaft. The sensation of two mouths working you simultaneously is overwhelming, lips and tongues and warm breath all focused on bringing you back to the edge.

Then Yujin pulls back and does something unexpected.

She slaps the head of your cock with her open palm. The impact sends a jolt of sensation through your entire body, that sharp sting followed immediately by a throb of intense pleasure. Your cock twitches violently in response, a bead of precum welling up at the tip. "He likes that." Yujin observes. "Interesting."

"Do it again." Gaeul encourages, her fingers picking up speed between Yujin's thighs. "He's throbbing so hard."

Yujin obliges, another slap that makes your cock jump and your knees nearly buckle. She follows it immediately with her mouth, sucking the abused head between her lips and soothing the sting with her tongue.

"Cum for us." Gaeul's voice is sweet, encouraging, her free hand coming up to cup your balls and massage them gently. "We want it so bad." She continues. "Want to feel you cumming all over our faces. Want to taste you. Want to be covered in you."

Yujin pulls off to add her own commentary, her hand never stopping its stroking. "Give it to us. Every drop. I want to feel it hitting my skin, dripping down my face.”

"Please." Gaeul begs, her fingers curling inside Yujin in a way that makes her gasp. "We need it. Both of us. Need you to mark us. Claim us. Make us yours."

They alternate on your cock again, passing it between their mouths like they're sharing a treat. Yujin's tongue traces the vein along the underside while Gaeul sucks firmly on the head. Then they switch, Gaeul licking while Yujin sucks. Their faces are so close together, their mouths meeting occasionally around your shaft in what might qualify as a kiss if there weren't a cock between their lips.

"I'm getting close." Yujin admits. "Your friend has talented fingers. Fuck."

"Cum with him." Gaeul suggests, her pace increasing on Yujin's pussy. "Both of you at the same time. I want to feel you both losing control."

"Bossy." But Yujin doesn't argue, just takes you back into her mouth and sucks harder.

The pressure is building rapidly now. You look down at the two of them, kneeling before you. Gaeul is beautiful, her hair disheveled and her lips swollen from use, cum still drying on her thighs. Yujin is stunning, that imperious attitude softened by arousal, her control dissolving under Gaeul's skillful touch driving her toward the edge.

"I'm gonna cum." You warn. "Fuck, I'm right there."

Both women pull back, tilting their faces upward, mouths open and tongues extended. They're presenting themselves as targets, offering their faces for you to paint, and the sight shatters whatever remaining control you had.

You grab your cock and stroke frantically, aiming down at them.

The first jet of cum hits Yujin across the cheek, a thick white rope that splatters against her skin and drips toward her jaw. She moans at the impact, her eyes fluttering closed, and at that exact moment Gaeul's fingers curl inside her and press against that perfect spot.

Yujin cums.

Her whole body shudders as the orgasm crashes through her, her mouth falling open in a silent cry just in time for the second rope of your release to land across her lips and chin. She's trembling and gasping, pleasure overwhelming her from two directions at once, your cum painting her face while Gaeul's fingers wring the orgasm from her body.

You turn your aim toward Gaeul, the third and fourth spurts landing across her pretty features. One catches her across the bridge of her nose, another across her forehead, and she moans happily as she's marked. Yujin's hand reaches out even through her own orgasm, wrapping around your cock and taking over the stroking. Her grip is almost too tight, milking you desperately, and then she slaps the tip again.

The impact makes you cry out, your cock pulsing with another unexpected spurt of cum that lands on her cheek. She does it again, another slap, and more cum erupts, your body responding to the stimulation with reserves you didn't know you had. "Fuck." You moan, legs shaking. "Fuck, Yujin, I can't..."

"You can." She insists, still stroking, still slapping intermittently. "Give me everything. I want it all." A few more weak pulses drip from your cock, the last of your release, and Yujin finally relents. She squeezes from base to tip one final time, coaxing out the very last drop, and then releases you with a satisfied sound.

Both of their faces are covered. Ropes of cum crisscross Yujin's cheeks and lips and chin. Gaeul's forehead and nose and one closed eye are glazed white. They look absolutely debauched, ruined, and they're both smiling like they've just received the greatest gift imaginable. Gaeul leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the tip of your softening cock.

"Thank you." She murmurs against the head.

Then Yujin's hand fists in her hair and pulls her into a kiss. It's filthy. Open-mouthed and messy, their tongues sliding together through the cum coating both their faces. You watch as they share your release between them, passing it back and forth, some of it dripping down their chins while the rest disappears into their mouths. They lick at each other's faces, cleaning off the mess, giggling between kisses.

"I love cum." Yujin admits when they finally break apart, licking her lips. "Like, genuinely. The taste, the texture, the way it feels on my skin. All of it."

"Same." Gaeul agrees, swiping a finger through the remnants on Yujin's cheek and popping it into her mouth. "I'm a complete cumslut. Have been since forever. There's something about it that just... does it for me."

"You're both insane." You manage to say.

"Probably." Yujin concedes.

Your legs finally give out. You stumble backward until your calves hit the edge of the bed, then let yourself collapse onto the mattress. You lie there staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, every muscle in your body feeling like it's been wrung out and hung up to dry.

"You girls really used me today."

"Please." Gaeul scoffs, climbing up onto the bed beside you. "I'm the one who got double-dicked. I'm totally wrecked. My legs don't work. My ass is going to be sore for a week. You just had to lie there for most of it."

"I did a lot more than lie there."

"Maybe."

Yujin joins you on the other side, her body warm as she settles against you. You're sandwiched between them now, two beautiful women pressed against your flanks, their hands resting on your chest and their heads on your shoulders.

"Thank you." You say quietly, staring at the ceiling. "Both of you. It's been... a really long time since I've had sex like that."

"How long?" Gaeul asks curiously.

"Long enough that I forgot what it felt like. To be wanted like that. To be used. To be part of something so..." You trail off, unable to find the right word.

"Intense?" Yujin offers.

"Yeah. That."

Gaeul's hand traces lazy patterns on your chest, is gentle and soothing. "You're welcome." She says softly. "And thank you too. For going along with all of this. For being open to it."

The three of you lie there in silence, the only sounds being your collective breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. It is Yujin who eventually breaks the silence: "I think this might work."

Gaeul lifts her head from your shoulder, looking across your chest at her friend. "What do you mean?"

"The three of us,” she explains. "Fucking together. Today was really fun. More fun than I expected, honestly. And I don't say that lightly."

You feel Gaeul's smile more than you see it, the warmth of her expression radiating against your skin.

"Yujin." There's something almost teasing in Gaeul's tone. "Are you saying you like him?"

"I'm saying the group dynamic works." Yujin clarifies immediately. "That's different. It's about chemistry. Physical compatibility. Nothing more."

"Uh huh."

"Don't 'uh huh' me." Yujin shifts, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you directly. Her face is still slightly flushed, traces of your cum still visible at her hairline where she didn't quite get it all. "Hey, are you free tomorrow?"

The question is directed at you. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow. It's a day that comes after today. Basic calendar stuff." She rolls her eyes at your hesitation. "This time I want you to fuck me. Properly. I need to verify for myself if your cock is actually as good as Gaeul claims."

"Translation." Gaeul interjects cheerfully. "She's dying to bounce on your dick. She's been thinking about it since she saw it. She probably won't sleep tonight because she'll be too busy imagining what it's going to feel like inside her."

"Shut up, slut," Yujin snaps. "I didn't say any of that. I said I want to evaluate his performance. It's completely different. It's a quality control measure."

"Sure it is."

"I will hurt you."

You find yourself smiling despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. “Okay, I'm in."

Yujin turns back to you, and for just a moment her features warm, almost breaking into a smile, before she composes herself behind that smug facade. "Good."

"You two are so cute together." Gaeul sighs contentedly, nestling closer against your side. "Look at you, making plans for tomorrow like a real couple. It's adorable."

"There's nothing cute about it." Yujin protests immediately. "It's a superficial and fleeting relationship. An exchange of sexual interests between consenting adults. No feelings involved. Purely transactional."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I'm serious. This is just sex. Good sex, admittedly, but just sex. Don't read anything more into it. You’re the emotional little slut here, not me."

"I know you're sweet on the inside." Gaeul continues, undeterred by Yujin's protests. "Under all that prickly exterior, there's a soft gooey center. Like a cactus. Or a porcupine. Or one of those spiky fruits that's really sweet when you cut it open."

"Sweet?! Bitch, I could kill you right now if I wanted to. I know krav maga. I could dislocate your trachea with just my pinky finger. It would take less than three seconds."

"See? Sweet."

"I'm describing how I would murder you."

"Sweetly."

"There's nothing sweet about trachea dislocation."

You turn your head to look at Yujin and says: "That sounds anatomically unlikely.”

"Excuse me?"

"The trachea thing. With your pinky. I don't think that's a real move.”

Yujin's eyes narrow at you. “So you want to see for yourself? I can prove it right now. All you have to do is offer your trachea. Just lie still and let me demonstrate. You won't feel a thing. Well, you'll feel something. Intense pain, followed by an inability to breathe, followed by death. But after that, nothing."

"Nah, I'll pass.”

"Coward.”

Gaeul giggles against your shoulder, apparently delighted by the exchange. "I'm so excited for tomorrow,” she says. "It almost sounds like a cliffhanger for the next chapter."

You turn to look at her. "What?"

"What I said. The way this is all wrapping up, with Yujin making plans for tomorrow, the three of us lying here after an incredible day of sex. It has a very end-of-chapter energy. Like we're characters reaching the conclusion of an episode."

"You spoke as if you were a character trying to make a meta-narrative comment."

Gaeul's grin widens. "Who knows?" She musesl. "Maybe we really are in a fictional world. Maybe all of this is just words on a page somewhere. Or pixels on a screen. Maybe Big Brother is watching us right now, with his hand on his cock, reading every single thing we say and do."

"That's disturbing." You note.

"Is it? Or is it flattering? Someone out there, in another dimension maybe, finding us entertaining enough to follow along. Our sex being their fantasy. Our dialogue being their amusement. Every orgasm we have translating into content for their consumption."

Yujin reaches across your chest and flicks Gaeul on the forehead. "Stop trying to break the fourth wall, slut. It won't work."

"Ow." Gaeul rubs the spot but she's still grinning. "Why not? What if I just keep going? What if I address the reader directly? Hello, person reading this. Are you enjoying yourself? Did you get off to us? Was it good for you too?"

“Gaeul,” Yujin cautions.

"What if I describe the very act of being described? What if I acknowledge that my words exist only because someone is writing them, that my thoughts are not my own but merely the inventions of a creative mind using me as a vessel for their..."

Yujin's hand clamps over Gaeul's mouth, cutting off the ramble. "You're being weird. Stop being weird."

Gaeul licks Yujin's palm and she yanks her hand back with a sound of disgust.

"Fine, fine." Gaeul laughs. "I'll stop. No more fourth wall stuff. We're definitely real people having a definitely real conversation in a definitely real world that definitely wasn't invented for entertainment purposes."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. But just know that somewhere out there, someone is reading this exact exchange and probably finding it hilarious."

"Yeah, I'm choosing to ignore that."

Yujin settles back down against your side, but she's smiling. She looks at you, then at Gaeul, then back at you. "We fucked her so well that we reset her brain." She observes. "She's always a little weird but this is exceptional even for her." She extends her fist toward you, hovering over your chest. "Good teamwork."

You bump it lightly with your own. "Good teamwork."

"Okay." Yujin announces, pushing herself up from the bed with a stretch. "I'm going to take a shower. I have dried cum in my hair and probably several other places I haven't discovered yet. This is unacceptable." She stands, her naked body silhouetted against the dim light from the window. Even after everything, she's still stunning, all long limbs and graceful lines. "You two should join me." She adds, not quite looking at either of you. "Gaeul's shower is big enough for three. And someone needs to wash the parts I can't reach."

Gaeul immediately perks up. "Shower sex?"

"Shower washing." Yujin corrects. "With potential for shower sex if everyone behaves."

"Define behaving."

"The opposite of everything you normally do."

Gaeul scrambles off the bed with more energy than someone who spent the day getting fucked should possess. You follow more slowly, your legs protesting the movement, but the thought of warm water and continued company is enough motivation to get you upright.

Yujin leads the way down the hallway toward the bathroom. Gaeul falls in behind her, reaching out to grab a handful of that ass and earning herself a sharp swat in return. You bring up the rear, watching the two of them bicker their way toward the shower.

This morning you were dreading another day at the office. Now you're walking toward a shower with two beautiful women who both want to fuck you again tomorrow.

Life, you decide, is strange sometimes.

"Wait, did you just drop a gamer reference?" Gaeul asks out of nowhere. "Man, I freaking love that game.”

"Girl, who the hell're you talking to?" Yujin asks, her hand paused on the shower handle. "You're scaring the shit out of me."

You'd been staring at the same corner of your apartment for weeks, organising your big bottles of acrylics while thinking about absolutely nothing and everything at once. You barely made it for competitions, and your bills pile up incessantly.. Your canvases sales took a toll due to supply and demand, barely keeping you afloat (something about modern art that you refuse to follow), and pessimistic thoughts clouded your mind when you were alone in your apartment. That's when you heard some murmurs from your friends. "Bro, Rent-a-friend." They advertised, "You hang out, and you get money. Simple, eh?" and "Stop clinging to the past, man. Maybe you can find someone else here."

It is so fucking ridiculous, right? What kind of people will just pay you to just….hang out? Just exist in someone else's days without actual commitment? But with a few more nags, you sign up belatedly. Curiosity and desperation really does make a hell of a cocktail.

Which is how you ended up here. In the middle of your messy studio. 

As a painter, working with acrylic tends to let the medium have its way of getting everywhere if you let it be — plastic sheets taped to the floor, accidental paint smears dried onto the wall, neglected brushes soaked in cloudy unchanged water. With one hand braced against the wood, you are currently scrubbing at a stubborn streak of beige on the table.

And right in the middle of it, the bell rings. Oh look, your client has arrived.

Pushing yourself up, you quickly trudge towards the kitchen sink and rinse your hands until the paint fades. Looking down at yourself, all that greets you is a concoction of madness — a wrinkled and paint-splattered shirt, and an even more paint-splattered old pair of jeans. You run your fingers through your hair, putting not much thought into it as you push the strands back. Your face freshens up with a quick rinse, ignoring the tired eyes. Yeah, good enough.

It stops being good enough the second you open the damn door.

The guest is a girl who stands a little too straight, most likely trying to match up to your height (she probably remembers your profile). White cardigan that is definitely bigger than her petite frame, she clutches her tote bag close to her chest. She has this long and luscious black hair that she lets down freely, but you catch a glimpse of a hair tie on her wrist. Her eyes then flick up, meeting yours for a moment, before giving you a warm smile.

"Hi," she says hesitantly. "I'm Gaeul. I, uh….I booked for the rent-a-friend service."

Wow, she really has quite a soft and gentle voice. But you are certain that she is anything but weak. Careful sounds more like the right term, which is fair.

Regardless, you step aside. "You're at the right place. Come in."

"Oh- okay." She slips past you, already apologising under her breath even though she hasn't bumped into anything. She takes her shoes off neatly, and lines them up against the wall next to your paint-covered slippers that are anything but neat. And of course, like any other client, Gaeul has her gaze drifting immediately to the mess you're still in the middle of cleaning up.

"Wow, you actually paint?" "I wouldn't put it on my profile if I don't."

She hums quietly, eyes darting to the scattered brushes, the canvases leaning against the wall, and then the mess that definitely shatters the vivid imagery of an artist. Her attention lingers on the small canvases mounted neatly, mundane objects, fruits, a woman sitting on a chair, then back to the mess.

You gesture her towards the table instead. "Have a seat."

She sits on the edge of the chair at first, but then decides to scoot in properly when she realises how silly she looks. You sit across from her (duh. This isn't an escort service, what the hell) and slid the contract to her.

"I'll explain it first," you clear your throat. "I assume it will be better to hear it from me directly than just through DMs. You can read it if you want as I talk."

She looks relieved immediately. "Appreciate your consideration."

'No worries." you give her an assuring smile. "So, first and foremost, you are renting me as your company." Your voice is clear yet casual. "The transaction applies only face-to-face. So that includes hanging out, drinking, whatever you want to try, as long as it's legal, doesn't cross boundaries, and hurts no one." You point at the clauses on the paper. "The max is seven days. It doesn't have to be consecutive, nor do you have to use all of them."

She nods slowly, eyes fixed on you.

"But don't worry, messaging and calling are free, frankly because it is too annoying to quantify those. So you can send me memes, reels, or complaints at 2 a.m., that's fair game."

Her lips twitch. "That's…good to know."

You keep on explaining every little detail in the contract — no obligations after the contract ends, you are simply just there to accompany her, not setting her straight. Luckily, she listens attentively, nods at the right moments, and asking questions that tell you she read the website twice.

"And the…item?" she gets quite hesitant.

"Ah, so about that," You scratch your head as you smile sheepishly. "Something not exactly valuable but with some high emotional value. I can assure you that it is nothing nefarious."

She hesitates (which is understandable), then opens her bag. Her fingers move automatically, digging through everything inside, displaying them on the table — lipstick, lip balm, the forgotten snack, and more. But then she stops rummaging, looking at the hair tie on her wrist. She removes it from her and then places it on the table carefully.

"I use it all the time, well because I have long hair, but also—" she reasons herself a tad too quickly. "Whenever I work. When I need to focus. I don't know…to feel confident, maybe?"

You glance at it. The hair tie is slightly stretched. And soft from use.

"I'll take it." And you hear the exhale from her like she has been holding her breath for so long. You give her a pen. She signs. Her hands are steady.

And the ink dries. Just like the uncleaned streak of beige on the table.

-

Gaeul is an angel at first glance. Soft voice. Polite smile. Harmless energy. Then she grins, and somehow it scares the shit out of you.

Let’s rewind. 

You’re currently walking with her. She holds herself a little too straight, fingers constantly fiddling with the strap of her tote bag. Her eyes dart around the street, alert, like she’s mapping out an escape route in case this whole thing turns out to be a scam. It’s almost endearing, if not painfully obvious. So…you decide to break the ice, searching for a decent one in your head. 'So…what do you do for work?"

Ok, you already know. Background checks exist for a reason. But you don’t want this hang out to be just as awkward as your first time in a relationshi—

“I work in retail,” she replies. “Sales assistant. Clothing store.”

Phew. Something to work with.

She goes on about her days at work, that every morning she always wears her tight black skirt and matching waistcoat (she looks really cute when she shows you the photo) to spend the day serving customers and working behind the till. She admits she was lucky to get the job six months after graduating from junior college.

“The store’s nice,” she adds quickly.

But then she exhales.

“It was the only offer I got,” she admits. “After so many rejections, I just… accepted it immediately. Even though it was in Seoul.”

She tells you that she lives quite far away from Seoul. It is admittingly funny to see her cheeks puffing up when she rants about the nearest convenience store being a fifteen-minute drive away, and even that is just one lonely shop all by itself on a main road. Magazines always go on sale a few days later than they do anywhere else. There are no cinemas or fashion stores. Nothing she could call a restaurant either; the closest things are the small local diners with set menus.

To sum up her little rant: dying of boredom. Which is far more relatable than someone you have spent your late teens with. And hence she's here now. In Seoul. Renting you.

"So…" you try to sound casual, "what made you actually look this up?"

Gaeul gives you a sigh. "Well…I don't have anyone who I can just try things with. I mean, I have friends here, obviously. But they would definitely judge me for doing things out of character. I’m not exactly that close with them." She glances at you, probably testing whether you'll judge her. "So I was quite relieved that you guys' service is providing someone who isn't going to tell me off."

To be fair, you might judge in your head, but you don’t tell her that. "Well, that's what we do."

She laughs softly (albeit a bit embarrassed) and then tugs at a strand of hair before tucking it behind her ear. "Although, it is still quite weird, talking to someone I basically hired."

"It's supposed to feel weird, I don't blame you." you chuckle. "Kind of like you're wondering when you’ll get the character you want in a gacha game. Half of the thrill is seeing whether it will be a terrific pull or a terrible pull."

"…huh?" "Don't worry about it."

You walk in silence for a few moments (because that was so cringe). The faint sound of crows laughs at you. The air smells like hazy afternoon rain and warm asphalt. People pass by, each of them moving like they already know where they’re headed.

"So," you clear your throat. "I can assume this is the first time you're renting a friend?"

She shakes her head. "No, I did book a few before, actually. I was desperate to find something, I guess. I was nervous, and…uh, bored." She bites her lips. "Curiosity too. I don't want to stay in this routine forever. I mean, it's fine, I'm fine. I'm happy that the job is fine, but…"

"You don't want to just turn old and grey in your work uniform?"

"…huh, that's a witty way of saying it."  "I do have my thunder. Thank you, Gaeul."

She smiles. "So…" she stretches out her world. "you're willing to follow me to do whatever dumb stuff I want?"

"For seven days." You inadvertently lift the corner of your mouth up. "We do whatever you want to try."

And you do indeed.

First stop? A photo booth. You know, one of those pop-up ones tucked between restaurants, with pastel curtains and stickers slapped everywhere. You barely have time to protest before she's already dragging you into it (reasons: just because). The photos come out poorly framed and awkward. One picture, you're mid-blink. In another, you made a terrible joke that made Gaeul laugh so hard her head tilted out of frame.

"Gosh, why did you make me duck my head?!" "Don't blame my joke, come on!"

Accessories stall is the next stop. She tries on sunglasses that are far too big for her face. A bucket hat that she immediately rejects. Hair ties she picks up one by one and, for reasons unknown, starts trying on you instead.

“Wait what th— I barely have any hair to tie?” “Shush, it’s funny.”

You just let her be since it’s easier than questioning it.

Down a few streets later, she buys a drink she's never had before. A dessert she's unsure about. She insists on trying your order and lets you try hers without hesitation. Some items fit both your tastes, but some aren't so great that Gaeul pushes them away for you to finish it.

The little moments do hit you quietly in your heart. Something about the small detours. The ‘fuck it we ball’ approach in trying everything. Rewinds you back when you are still with 'her', and you always wonder if she manages to get more free time for herself.

But you don't get to linger on the thoughts as Gaeul slows down at a particular block.

Her eyes lock onto a sign ahead and you follow her gaze. The restaurant sits wedged between a phone repair shop and a convenience store. The sign is loud and modern, adorned with bold letters that promise a tad too much confidence. "Mystery Curry Challenge here! Free if you finish!" You read the bold letters, and then the smaller text below. "Special Flavour only. Wait, special how?"

She presses her lips together, suppressing a laugh. "Well they say it is shitty."

"That's never a good sign."

You push the door open. A small bell jingles overhead, a bit too cheerful for the unknown flavour ahead that you are about to taste. Inside, it's bright and loud — . LED warm lighting, Gen Z music, tables packed close together. A giant screen on the wall loops promotional videos, and something about challenges.

The waitress looks at you two. "Are you guys here for the challenge?"

Gaeul hesitates, then nods. "Yes, for two, please."

You're led to a long communal table. Gaeul sits across from you, smoothing her skirt, then tying her hair up without even thinking about it.

You blink. “When did you get another hair tie?”

She just shrugs.

"Also, why is everyone watching us?" "Well, we're talking about this infamous challenge, can't blame them."

"…Ok you’re right."

The plates arrive on sleek black trays, and the curry looks…intentional (and that is polite, for you). Thick and glossy, with the texture that is very wrong. The smell hits a second later, and it smells bitter, spicy, and oh yeah, very wrong. And guess what? The staff member cheerfully advertises them as poop-flavoured curry. 

Ugh. It is literally shitty.

Gaeul leans forward slightly. "Gosh, it smells worse up close."

"At least this will do numbers on Tiktok." You fight the urges to gag.

When the staff member puts their hand on the small timer and lets you know when to start, you both pick up the spoons.

"See you on the other side, Gaeul." "See you too."

The timer clicks. You take a bite.

It is so shit.

Not even joking, it is so bad.

It's the kind of bad that feels so deliberate. With each bite, you are so flabbergasted at the fact that no one stops during the brainstorming process to think: Why? Seriously? Who the fuck would think of this abomination?

To describe the taste in whatever words you can conjure up, the first hit is…bitter? It's not a good kind, either, it's a weird mix of cocoa powder combined with bitter melon (wow, genius observation right there) from what you can point out. Then comes the spice slap to your face, which Gaeul points out it is coming from minced chicken, yam, and the motherfucking fish guts. What? How does she even know what fish guts taste like? Oh don't even start about how the aftertaste creeps in immediately, with the rush of the curry powder crouching from the back, and proceeds to cling and linger to the back of your throat.

Tl;dr: It's dense. Stagnant. Worse than wet cardboard simmered with whatever they can find in the trash can.

And it looks like Gaeul is not taking it well either, even though she suggested this place. Across from you, she goes completely still. Spoon hovering mid-air. A mouthful filling up her cheeks, eyes wide with most likely regret. A single syllable escapes from her, "Oh", and that sums up the whole experience. As expected, someone nearly laughs, a phone camera tilts your way, but both your focuses are on how to survive the literal shitshow in your mouth.

She takes another bite. "I can't believe this isn't a safety hazard."

“Well,” you croak, “it attracts curious idiots like us.”

You don't finish it. Well, neither of you does. The free meal sounds tempting, but sanity is far more valuable. Eventually, she sets her spoon down too, laughing, eyes watering, even.

'I'm sorry I dragged you into this." Gaeul claps her hand, apologising.

"D-don't worry about it." You cough, the lingering taste of shit staining your throat. "But I might break the rules and judge you for whatever you're cooking up next."

She laughs it off and smacks you on the shoulder.

-

"You ate literal shit?"

Sakura's voice crackles through your phone, loud enough to fill the quiet hum of your apartment. You pause mid-stroke, acrylic hovering just above the canvas. A muddy brown smear already stains the corner, which is unintentional yet fitting to the conversation.

"Poop flavoured, Sakura," you correct, as if that remedies things. "Poop flavoured."

"Tomayto, tomahto, same shit," she fires back immediately. You can hear her scoffing, probably pacing around, or whatever she is doing (most likely gaming). "Why would you do that voluntarily?"

"...I get paid to do it?" "You're not that broke, damn it."

You smile, eyes drifting back to the half-finished painting, but it's not anything concrete yet so far— still shapes and blobs.

"So," Sakura continues, her voice picking up a more curious tone, "what's she like? The girl who convinced you to eat shit."

"Please don't say shit, far out. I’m about to get PTSD with how many times you repeat that word." You groan. "And her name's Gaeul. She works at the retail store three streets away. Doesn't like the city but hates the inconvenience of the countryside more."

"That sounds….tiring." "Guess so, yeah."

You dab more paint onto the canvas, dragging it forward. "Interesting girl, though. Cute face, small, having unexpected yet funny points about her."

"Yeah, eating shit really is a charming point." "Sakura."

"Anyway, is she better than that girl you used to—" "Shut it, Kkura."

Her annoying ass is still the same as when you first met…by accident.

It was a day out at the café, a drink on the side and staring at the front page of Rent-a-friend on your laptop. You could've done this at home at the comfort of privacy, but free wifi was too tempting. You snort at the slogan: "Accompanying services. Friendships without the need to impress.", yet your hands are busy flying across the keyboard and filling up the application.

You should've noticed how Sakura was eyeing your screen from the next table. "Is that…Rent-a-friend?"

You almost dropped your drink halfway through. "Were you spying on me?"

"You're in public, that's on you."

You were so ready to snap, until she tilted her phone towards you and would you look at that, the exact same page, already half-filled. "Hey, I need money too, and this sounds tempting."

Somehow, you two ended up sitting together and helping each other out filling the forms. Comparing details. Laughing at certain application questions. Two strangers bonding over mutual financial ruin and curiosity, pretty much. Now she's your coworker, the one who knows you well enough to roast the living shit out of you.

"So…" Sakura drags out the word, "How long until she asks you to eat something worse?"

As if summoned, the phone buzzes loudly on the table. You check at the screen, and it's an incoming Facetime from Gaeul.

“Oh?” she says. “Speak of the devil.”

“I’ll call you back.”

“Don’t die,” she replies. “Or worse, don’t eat more shit. Let me know at the end if she is better than you-know-who~”

You hang up and swipe to answer Gaeul. The screen fills with motion immediately. The camera shakes, accompanied by loud clangs — metal against ceramic, something sliding aggressively across a counter, and Gaeul groans at something. Probably something bad.

"Hiya Gaeul," you peer into the screen. "Why does it sound like a mess?"

"I'm cooking." "Oh damn."

She shifts the phone, and her kitchen comes into view. Clean. Modern. Clearly unused. She reaches up and ties her hair without even thinking. Again.

"Oooh, nice. Whatcha making?"

"The poop-flavoured curry."

"Wait, why?" You drop your brush. "I mean, it's funny as hell, but why?"

She keeps stirring the pot with her wooden spoon. "It tastes really bad—”

“Truly bad.” 

“...and I just want to understand how it goes that wrong…and maybe see if I can make it good."

"Gosh, now that is a challenge." You pick up your brush from the ground and clean it up. "I sure hope you can find the pot at the end of the rainbow."

"I don't remember the contract saying you can use sarcasm." "Jeez, forgive me, Miss Gaeul."

You two laugh for a moment before resuming your respective activities while on call — you with another brush stroke on the canvas, mixing the blues and greens, while Gaeul pours the blended bitter melon down to the pot, stirring the (admittingly atrocious) contents. She tells you that she searched for the recipe online — the curry originated from this experimental restaurant in Japan. And as you two expected, the recipe calls for onion, carrot, minced chicken, bitter gourd, cocoa powder, Japanese green gentian tea (for more bitterness, because why not), the damn fish gut, and curry powder. Of course, you two aren’t sure if it is one ingredient that fucks it all, or the combination of all of them that is the cause. But for a lack of better phrase: pretty much a shitty combination.

It feels natural, you realised, about the situation right now. Just doing your own things, and Gaeul doing hers, connected only by a phone call. You've had clients before, sure, with plenty of conversations. But this back-and-forth feels new. Probably because it is something you longed to do with ‘her’ back then. Instead, all you get is rushed calls, unanswered messages, always too busy, always somewhere else, and always promising later until it's not. 

And yet you still cling to the thought that she still thinks about you at rare chances.

The call goes on. You can hear the knife thudding unevenly. She tries the first option today for improvement — a combination of honey and natural sugar. You're halfway through the distressing call before she puts it in.

It's not that hard to picture her expression from the noise that follows.

-

She doesn't give up after that night. Or the next. Or the other next. (Why….?)

The whole fiasco slips naturally into your days with her, wedging between walking aimlessly through the city, sitting on convenience store steps after her shifts, and sometimes asking you interesting questions that rivals the topic of "do we have one butt or two butts?". Sometimes face-to-face, and sometimes through calls that stretch out till late night because neither of you hangs up.

And another quality to learn from her is that she is persistent. No wonder she has big dreams.

"Okay," she exhales one afternoon. "I reduced the cocoa powder."

"And…?" "Bad idea, the cocoa powder made it more bearable."

Another day, another call.

"I replaced the melon with apple this time."

"Wait, why?"

"Sweetness of the apples is better than bitter melon, you think?"

"Uhuh…sure…" your squint. "And?"

"…did not help at all. It still tastes like shit."

You laugh so hard you almost knock over the jar of muddied water.

She reports everything in detail, and soaks every single bit up, because you're way too deep into this very important matter. Too bitter. Too sweet. Sometimes she tells you about a weird aftertaste that is akin to coconut lotion. Sometimes she scrunches her nose and makes you listen to her gag. Other times you see her stop herself, spoon hovering mid-air.

By the 7th, and final, allowable day in person, she texts you when you're pulling out the pans for dinner.

Gaeul:

Can you come over tonight? I made food for you as a thank you.

Huh. It does warm your heart a little.

When you arrive at her place, the smell that greets you the moment the door opens is — oh god. Putrid sounds too light to describe, it overrides the thought that this is your first proper look at her place beyond the video calls. Small. Cozy. The timber patterned vinyl panel contrasts with the white wall. And, yep, the smell brings you right back to the situation.

In the middle of the warzone was Gaeul with her hair already tied up, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. On the table is a pair of plates of curry. Wait, no, two pairs?

Ah shit, poop-flavoured curry.

"I made four in total." she announced. "One with the remedy I thought it's the best, and one exactly like the restaurant."   

"You're insane." "And we're having one each."

"You're beyond insane." "Yep."

You sit at the chair while she cleans up the kitchen — wiping the counter, and throwing and soaking the used pots in the sink. You, on the other hand, can only stare at the identical plates in front of you and freeze, unsure if it's the visual or the smell that comes to knock on your funeral.

Fuck, you forgot to write your will before you left home.

"Ready?" Gaeul hands you your spoon and sits across you.

"Fuck it, we ball, I guess…?"

"Pff. See you on the other side."

You both take a bite. One from the original plate, and one from the improved.

It is so shit, still. Both of them. Like not even joking, it's still so bad. Ok, but the two versions are slightly different, sure. But it feels far more insulting, knowing the efforts that went into this.

Gaeul, across from you, freezes mid-chew. She swallows slowly, and in a very disgusted way. "…Holy shit."

"Literal shit, indeed. You cooked this, may I tell you."

"Don't remind me!" she protests weakly, tasting both plates again, hoping that maybe the second time will be kinder to her. The way her shoulder slumps down tells you everything.

You put your spoon down, still feeling the after effects. "Hey."

She looks up, cheeks as red as a tomato.

"It's good, you know?" You gesture at the plates. "That you're able to question how you can improve yourself and take your time AND putting effort into it. Look at this? You made literal shit?"

She stares at you for a second. Then she lets out a loud and genuine laugh, head tipping forward and not even covering her mouth. "Ya! You're so awful!"

"You're the awful one here! You made me eat this!"

You don't finish the curry. Neither of you does, because it will be a death sentence if you both continue. Gaeul pokes at hers once more with a spoon, blubbing out if different ratios will help, or swapping the stock instead, or removing some ingredients. You, however, just beg for her to stop.

The conversation afterwards becomes more mundane. Gaeul tells you about customers today who already know what they want but still ask for advice. About how one of the two fluorescent lights above her reception desk fused and annoyed her. You tell her about these painting commissions for your frequent customer from a well-off family with a background in ballet that goes back for quite a long time. But then the conversation takes a U-turn back to the damn fucking curry again, and you two can only laugh at the inevitable.

"Let's not make this curry again, Gaeul." "Don't worry, I will slap myself if I do again."

She smiles at you, fingers fidgeting with a few strands of her hairs. "So…um…" her voice is casual, "if…after this, would you maybe want to hang out again? Not—" she rushes on, "not like with the contract, I mean. Just—"

It really doesn't take a genius to see it. You can see it. Clear as day. Especially how she sheepishly looks away. But the memories still chain you back to the past and cling to a sliver of hope that you knew would not happen, yet you still cling onto it like a madman.

And so, you start. "Gaeul."

She looks up.

"You're great," you say honestly. "I had fun with you, I really do."

Her shoulders relax.

"But," you continue, choosing your words carefully. "I'm not really in a place fo—" you sigh, realising that beating around the bush won't do, especially for Gaeul. "Truth to be told, I'm still hung up on my ex. It's hard to forget your first love, you know?"

And you just end at that.

"Oh," she exhales. You can see the disappointment flashing on her face, but she reins it in almost immediately. She nods. "Yeah. That's understandable."

"Sorry about that."

"No, don't worry." she smiles again. "I like guys who are honest."

You stand to leave not long after helping her clean up (and a mutual gagging at the plates later). She walks you to the door, hands tucked into her sleeves.

"Thank you," she says again, standing behind you. "For taking up my request. For not judging me. And for eating with me."

"Trauma bonding," you give her a thumbs up. That gives her a good laugh.

"I'll probably still message and call you. If that's okay…good friend."

You chuckle. "Anytime, good friend."

-

The apartment is quiet as you open the door. Just another night.

You wash your hands first, because the curry smell still clings faintly. The sink gurgles, water running over your knuckles, until it finally goes clear. Only then do you return to the corner of the room where your nearly finished canvas waits.

And the hair tie rests beside it. Plain, black, and slightly stretched out from overuse. It is halfway through the painting that you come to appreci– ah no, notice the softness to it, the one that comes from being pulled and released a hundred times a day, wrapped around a wrist, twisted into place without thought. Yet it is that same mundane object that can lift Gaeul’s spirit and determination up that easily. You wonder if it does anything to yours for a brief moment…or at all.

You shake the thought off and pick up the large brush to resume the painting.

Firstly, the background — just the beige wall behind the hair tie. Nothing extravagant. Nothing loud. You let your wrist loose and allow the strokes to go whatever. A simple loop at first, and then you pause to add a brown to the paint mix. Darker tones this time. Shadows behind the object. You give it a few more layers until it is adequate enough.

Next, the thinner brush.

The bristles drag gently across the pencil outline, leaving clear ridges behind. You keep on layering, one after another, until you can't see the white underneath the grey layers. You add a few faint highlights where the light would catch. Your fingers smudge the edge absentmindedly, blending while you can still feel the wetness of the paint. You never chase perfection anymore — because that’s her habit, and it cost you too much once. Even thinking about her name feels dangerous, too much like opening Pandora's box. So you just kept it shut and let the apartment stay quiet.

The phone beside you lit up. Seems like a message from Gaeul: Thanks for the past few days, good friend. Love to hang out with you even after today :)

Fuck, the guilt hits immediately. You still vividly remember how her voice dropped when you told her straight on that you weren’t really available for anything more. No excuses about the contract nor any other convenient lie. Hell, you didn’t even tell her who you were still hung up on, only that you were. And most of all, you hate how relieved you felt when she just accepted it without asking for more.

You step back when the last stroke lands. 

The painting of her hair tie is done.

Your phone lights up again. No, not Gaeul again, and certainly not ‘her’. Never ‘her’. Just notifications waiting to be cleared, or Sakura shit talking about her clients again, or someone has placed an order for your painting or another client has been assigned to you just as usual. You will look at it, confirm it, and prepare contracts for another assignment as usual. To just move on with life.

But for tonight, you just stare at the finished painting, and remember the shitty curry, wallowing in your old memories once more, and a girl named Gaeul who tried her best.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note:

Woooo time to kickstart the series with IVE's resident gremblin, Gaeul! This series comes to be from me reading a book named "What You Are Looking For Is in the Library" by Michiko Aoyama. It's such a heartwarming book and I recommend you to check it out later.

Writing a series is definitely much more difficult than my usual things, but I'm excited to see where Rent-a-friend goes. Special thank you to @okaylikeschaewon for greenlighting the idea and give me suggestions, and also appreciate both @autumnyacorn and @mysonesecret for betareading <3

If you have seen the Rules page, you noticed that there is a mystery person. Have fun guessing guys, I wonder how long will it take to get the correct answer lol.

(HINT: 4th Gen Idol)

“Hey! You must be my new roommate! Nice to meet you, my name is Gaeul.” By the time I step back inside with the last bag, a girl is already standing by the kitchen island, greeting me with a warm smile. Her outfit is very casual, a simply white T-shirt with an unzipped jacket and pair of jeans. Her eyes winks behind her glasses – makeup minimal, long hair that’s dyed pink naturally fall to the side of her shoulders.

“Oh hey! Sorry for getting stuff messy! Hi Gaeul, nice to meet you too!” I quickly introduce myself, and based on the conversation, Gaeul should be my noona. And indeed, I can catch a bit of those caring vibes inside her.

“Are you still in school? Or what do you do for a living?” Gaeul hands me a cup of ice water, perfect for this hot weather. I finish half of the cup in one big gulp, explaining how I ended up here.

“Aw… parental pressure, I see.” Her smile is still genuine, no judges, no comments, just welcoming and polite. “How about you? Gaeul-noona, what do you do?” I shut the door behind me as I finally move the last luggage inside of the apartment.

“You don’t have to be so formal, Gaeul is fine.” She giggles, cheeks tinting just a little. “And me? I write songs, and I sing.”

“Ah, so you are a musician!” I respond.

“Hehehe… part time musician is more accurate, gotta pay the bills first, you know.” Gaeul laughs shyly, like I just handed her the biggest compliment in years. “Most of the time I work at that pub across the block, serving, cashier kinda stuff.”

“I see I see, well, I gotta start tidying up my stuff before it gets too late. Will talk to you more later!” I give her a polite nod while standing up from the couch, offering my hand. Gaeul shakes my hand very lightly, her cold skin contrasts with her warm smile.

“Okie, I won’t bother you then. Let me know if you need anything, ok?” Gaeul then heads back to her own room, leaving the door slightly ajar. I kneel on the carpet and unzips my suitcases, the apartment is very clean and neat – minimal in decorations but the carpet is soft and fluffy, walls white without a single stain, the dishes are organized nicely on the shelf.

I feel a really cautious sense of relief as I step in my room. Maybe about 150 square feet in size? The landlord was kind enough to leave a bed with mattress, a wardrobe and a desk in the room. I stuff the clothes into the wardrobe, pillows and sheet on the bed, push the empty suitcase beneath the bed and that’s basically it for my move in. Well, what more do you expect from a broke ass college student? My bone starts to protest after this long way, so I stretch my body and let the bed embrace me.

I suddenly think of Gaeul. Well, at least I got a really quiet and nice roommate. Not like the ones who drinks and parties with their friends in a shared space. “Don’t get too attached though, she is just a roommate being nice.” I remind myself.

-

The following a few weeks are pretty monotone, I have minimal interaction with Gaeul anyways. I wake up each morning, feeling light-headed and muscles aching, but life goes on, isn’t it? I walk to my college across the street, finish those classes that God knows if they are useful in real life then I dip. Maybe a quick snack or lunch? Then I work to the cafeteria style dining hall in my school until dusk. 5 days a week, 6 hours per day. Since Gaeul works the night shift in the pub, she usually already left by the time my tired body arrives at the apartment. And similarly, when I get up, her bedroom is closed, occasional snoring sounds as I pass by her door for washroom.

Maybe she is really tired as well.

Over the weekends, I just stay in my room, writing fictions or just play games with my friends online as a coping mechanism. Meanwhile, Gaeul uses her free time doing her music stuff. I see a guitar stand in her room, as the guitar sits on her laps, her headphone is on while making her music.

We sometimes order takeouts together, quoting Gaeul, it is “splitting to lower the delivery fee”. Or we sometimes just eat at a different time. Even if we eat together, the conversation is minimal. Maybe a simple “How’s your week?”, plus some “Not bad, yourself?”. She never asks me about my school work or my cafeteria shift. I feel odd to start the conversation too, so neither do I ask about her “music production.” That is good, roommates are just roommates, an appropriate boundary is always the way to go.

There is just one thing odd.

Her kindness.

I feel like Gaeul is being too nice. We cook our own meals and share the fridge, that is normal. But starting the second week after I moved in? Sometimes when I opened the fridge, there would be a sticky note on some container. It either says something like “Don’t skip breakfast!”, or “I cooked extra food in the blue container, feel free to eat it before it expires! :)”.

Each time, I devour the food without thinking too much, I told myself, “She’s just being a good roommate, don’t read into it. People like Gaeul is just nice to everyone, I’m not an exception. I should instead be grateful for having roommate like her.”

Until today. I drag my almost-dead body back from a long cafeteria shift as usual – was assigned to carry the milk from the delivery truck to the storage for a minimum hourly wage. I yank the fridge open with rage, only to see a dozen-pack of Celsius with another sticky note on it. “I bought this after shift last night, there was a promotion, I thought you’d like it. Drink as many as you want. – G.”

How does she know I like Celsius? I feel confused, but cracking one open anyway. The familiar spark hits my tongue, and for a second the exhaustion eases. Then the thought creeps in: “She remembered. From that first night.” I swallow hard. On the night I moved in, Gaeul cooked us some hearty, comforting dish, saying it was her “Welcoming of the new member of the apartment.” She asked me what drink I wanted; I then casually slipped the fact that I am a hardcore caffeine addict so she handed me a can of Celsius. “Caffeine really helps sometimes, huh? I don’t drink energy drinks so I won’t get to taste this, I guess. My friend gave this to me but now it’s yours!”

“Yay! Thank you Gaeul, this is fire.” I took the Celsius, chugged it in a blink of an eye. “You know? This taste so much better than that cheap ass brewed coffee they offer in my cafeteria, but they are free because I work there, so I guess why not?”

“Hehehe, don’t be too strict to yourself, treat yourself better! Buy what you want to drink, you know.” Gaeul giggles.

“Nah… maybe when my life gets less messy.”

…

I try to stay up late until Gaeul is back so I can thank her in person, but my exhausted body eventually give in and sleep claims me. The next time I open my eyes, I am lying on the couch in the living room, with a blanket on my body. I stand up and scan the darkness around me; there is some faint light beneath Gaeul’s bedroom door: she is still awake.

Her door is shut, but I walk to her room regardless. I lean on the door to see if she is making music so I know if I should knock or not. Nothing but some light humming – maybe chilling after work? I hesitate, hand already on the cold, steel door handle. Am I overstepping? Am I just thinking too much? Gaeul buys roommate the drink he likes because there is a promotion, it is not that big of a deal, right? She is just too nice. Why can’t she just be a jerk so I don’t have to feel this?

I can feel my face blush, just a little bit though. I eventually fold. I scribble the note on a sticky pad, the pen scratching louder than usual in the quiet apartment. My handwriting looks shaky. I stick it on the fridge next to her last one, the ink still wet.

“Thank you so much Gaeul, let me know how much it is so I can pay you back!”

I wait. Ten minutes past. Then ten more. The light through Gaeul’s door gap doesn’t get dimmer, and she also doesn’t come outside. I feel like my eyes don’t want to stay open anymore, so I escape back to my room.

-

I hear the door of his bedroom is closed, I finally stand up from my bed and reach for my door handle gently. I don’t want to wake him up. I saw him falling asleep on the couch earlier when I got back from work, he must be having a tough day.

I walk outside towards the kitchen, barefooted, it’ll be really awkward if he comes out right now. Oh goodness, he turned his light off already. I don’t see any light through his bedroom door. I open the fridge while having my eyes closed. I bought this Celsius drink that he mentioned during the first dinner we had that he’s obsessed with it. Am I being too much? Would it make things more awkward? Oh no… what should I do if he just didn’t see them? What if he just ignored because he felt like I am crossing boundaries?

I have no idea.

Like a child blushing for a surprise Christmas Gift, I slowly open my eyes. The box had been opened; he took a can. Oh! There is a sticky note, what does it say?

“Thank you so much Gaeul, let me know how much it is so I can pay you back!”

Oh boy, you definitely don’t have to be this gentle. But why am I blushing so hard? It is not the first time this happened though. Let me recall where did it all start.

Maybe it was when you were moving in? Hehehe…. You called me noona, very gentle yet a bit restraint. You just talked about your life, your parental problems, being forced to move out? And just the bare minimum financial support? That’s really cruel. But I adore your courage to take on challenges from life to get what you want. I saw a version of myself in you.

The version of myself who refused a full-time job offer – way higher wage than this pub job – to pursue my song writing dream. Maybe the suffer will all be worth it one day? I don’t know. But at least we always have to try.

I heard you once mentioned that you skip breakfast regularly just for 10 minutes of extra sleep. Gosh! What did life do to this poor boy? I guess making extra food while I am cooking and save it for my roommate isn’t crossing personal boundaries, right? I’m not sure. I can always see the container being washed and drained on the counter when I’m up. But I can’t see your thoughts.

I hope you maybe just treat me as a kind noona who cares about her roommate, I don’t want to get things complicated, what if you also have feelings for me? Oh Gaeul, please don’t be that naïve to yourself.

I remember you said you had a girlfriend in high school, but she broke up with you because she was being too possessive. You said she would call you ten times a day after class just “checking-in”, gosh. That was the time when I started to realize I shouldn’t be this obvious. So, I just kept things minimal, maybe a greet when we meet in the hallway. Sometimes you thanked me for the food I made you, I just smile gently but you know that just made me so happy.

Do I have feeling towards you? I don’t know… I really don’t see the reason why you’ll think the same about me. I am just a part-time songwriter and you are a community college student that’s trying to escape from strict parental controls, maybe we’re just destined to walk on different directions.

Do you know I started writing a song because of you? I don’t dare to say it is “for you”, because I can’t afford to lose a roommate who can accept me. Accept my oddness, accept me for being such a romantic. Gosh. Hopeless one. I named the song “My Jamais Vu”. We’ve been sharing the same roof for weeks, but each time I see you, it is like seeing a beautiful stranger. What’s under that mask of yours? I know you must be tired and stressed from life, but every time you give compliment the songs I share with you? Every time you leave sticky notes on the fridge, appreciating the food I made for you? Every time you text me to be careful when I end a late-night shift?

I couldn’t stop myself from thinking if you’re just being nice. You must be. If you have feelings for me, why wouldn’t you just say it out loud? Gosh… I really hope I didn’t annoy you by offering stuff to you. I am afraid that things would go weird, but I also cannot help myself from imagining the “what-ifs”. Did I just fall for you? I don’t know, but it makes me blush and worry at the same time….

-

Gaeul eventually didn’t tell me the price for those drinks. I secretly slipped a $20 bill into the pocket of her jacket and just hope she’ll take it without a fuss. Maybe she’ll think she left it there. Maybe she’ll know it is from me. But either way, I don’t feel like I am ready for her to ask me why.

Nothing really happened, though. When I drag my tired body back to the apartment the next day, she is already out for her night shift. The jacket is still missing in action, maybe she sees it, maybe not. But I am glad that she didn’t send me a text message to ask.

It was the most I interacted with Gaeul for the week, I don’t know if she sees the bill and thinks I am “buying” her kindness. But I can clearly tell she backs up a little. Is that because she is just being a nice roommate, but I am paying back her kindness with money? Damn, that’s maybe a bit rude from my side.

Anyway, I didn’t let that distinguish my anticipation for one of the most important days of the year. 22 years ago, I was given birth to this world. Maybe I can finally be happy for once and get myself out of the swamp named school work and cafeteria job. I wake up, heart already pounding. Last year my parents gave me a decent chunk of money for birthday, even if they are mad at me, I can still at least have the ability to have a nice meal outside today. Hmmm… do I want to invite Gaeul? She is so nice of a person and the vibe had been a bit awkward since that Celsius incident – we barely talked! Maybe I should pay the bill, and let her off the burden for a bit as well.

I then rub my sleepy eyes with the back of my hand, and my arm reach the table for my phone. Screen unlocked. No notification? Ah, maybe I forgot to turn on Wi-Fi. Wait, I did. Is the router even working? Why am I not receiving any messages? I start to panic. I sprint outside to the living room bare footed, and I immediately check the router beneath the TV.

Three green lights, pulse steady.

I restart my phone, still dead silence. I turn off Wi-Fi and use my cellular data instead, still dead silence. I am in desperate. Maybe they’ll call me, they probably haven’t woken up yet. I try my best to calm down and brush my teeth. I splash cold water onto my face while telling myself that I am just overthinking. It is not possible for my parents to forget their only son’s birthday, right?

I open the fridge, that familiar blue container is there. “Don’t skip breakfast! (Smiley face)”. sticky note on breakfast as usual. Oh yeah, I never told Gaeul it is my birthday today. Maybe she’ll cook more food if she knew it, she is just such a nice roommate, and a very caring noona. I quickly get myself ready and just set up a voicemail message on my phone before turning it to silence.

“Hey mom and dad, I am happy to have you call me today, it means a lot to me. I am in class or working my cafeteria job that I just found earlier, I’ll call you back after I get home!”

The entire day during back-to-back lectures and the cafeteria shift that comes right after, I wasn’t focusing. How I wanted to get out of this place faster! Maybe by the time I retrieve my phone from the locker (yeah, no phones during work but I guess that’s fair), I’ll see my account doubling in balance that I can just call Gaeul out as well to a feast! Korean barbeque sounds like a nice idea.

Screen unlocked. One notification. I immediately click it with my trembling fingers, but what comes after just snaps the final string of calmness I have left.

“Your monthly auto-payment to Mr. Lee (Landlord) had been transferred, account new balance: $130.”      Oh yeah, what a coincidence! My birthday is on the same date as the due day for the rent. My decaying patience forces me to start looking at my family friends’ social media accounts, maybe I can find some clue.

“From Johnny (Cousin’s dad): Very nice family gathering! Had so much fun with everyone.”

Below the post is a single picture.

A single picture of my cousin’s family having dinner at my home. His parents sit across the table, with him sitting right between my father and my mother. On the chair that I always sat when I was back home. My parents smile so proudly when taking the picture, hands on his shoulder like he is their proud son.

They would be proud of me too if I made it into the Top 5 Med school of the country. They would be proud of me too if I found an internship in the freshmen year of my university in a big-name hospital. They would be proud of me too if I didn’t disobey their decision on my own life. But maybe it seems like I am more than being ignored and forgotten. It seems like I am replaced.

I cover my face with both of my hands, in the poorly lit and narrow employee’s locker room. I sob like how I once broke my father’s glass vase when I was a kid. This time though? I am really just on my own.

I stumble my way back to the apartment, and just collapse on the floor. I don’t bother turning on the light at all, letting the darkness claim me. I’ve lost track of time, but it seems like Gaeul already left for work – I really don’t want to let her see my mess. I don’t deserve her to be so kind to me. I keep my quiet sobbing, arms hugging my knees. At this point, the physical exhaustion from work is nothing compared to the feeling of getting abandoned by my own parents.

Click. Click. I hear the sound of key unlocking the door, ah, did I just cry for 6 hours already?

I indeed did not. And it is indeed Gaeul opening the door.

“Hey! You’re at home! Guess what! Power outrage at the pub and my shift is cancelled! Why didn’t you turn the lights on? That honestly scared me a little bit.” Gaeul pushes the door open with a warm giggle, and she sees me. “And you left your phone here on the….” She freezes mid-sentence. Picking up my phone and starts pacing towards me. Very slowly.

I finally turn my head towards her; my phone screen is on. Another notification that arrives “just in time.”

“Claim your $5 off for your birthday gift! We don’t forget you.” The Pizza delivery app says so.

The final string had snapped. I cannot hold it back anymore. I cry out loud – no longer just sobs, but with tears dropping down to the carpet like a pearl bracelet without its string. Gaeul doesn’t say anything, she lets her jacket sliding out her shoulders, backpack dropping onto the carpet.

“Hey… at least you could’ve told me,” She leans down and sits right next to me on the carpet, “I might’ve figured out what happened, but you know, you are never alone, right?”

“It…it never mattered anyway…my own parents abandoned me, and found a replacement on the day that they gave me birth 22 years ago” I cannot stop crying.

“It always mattered. Hey, listen…” Gaeul remains her presence in the dark with me, takes a deep breath. “You are home now. You are safe…”

“You chose to fight for the life you wanted, that is courage. You don’t live your life for other people, we are all independent human beings, not puppets. Right?” She continues. “I know it sucks to be alone, especially on a day like this…… But you can’t abandon yourself, and hey! At least I know it now… So happy birthday.”

Happy birthday. These two simple words are like a flood that destroys the final dam.

Gaeul reads me like a book. She doesn’t offer me fake empathy or care, instead she just… presents, and sees me through my mess.  She’s not running away and leaving all those craps on my own, she is staying. And honestly, it is more than enough.

“Hey Gaeul… just…. Thank you.” I wipe my tears with my palms, but I still can’t stop sobbing. “I don’t really know what to say, I just hope I didn’t ruin your night off.”

“Aw… please don’t say that. I see you as a very good friend and roommate of mine, and friends support each other, don’t they?” Gaeul offers me her hand, I hesitate for a bit but take it. She pulls me up to the couch and smiles, “How could it ruin my night? It is literally a birthday party ahead waiting for us to unwrap it.”

“You don’t need to smile, but if you need something to cry on? I’m staying here for a while.” Gaeul then sits on the couch right next to me, lending her shoulder for me to lean on as I continue sobbing. I again hesitate, not sure if I am crossing the boundary of roommates. But Gaeul just doesn’t wait. She pulls me close for a side hug; my head leans on her shoulder. I can smell the floral hint of her shampoo, and it starts to linger a bit too long in my nostril.

“Have you eaten? Wanna head out for some food? Or I’m down to cook you some ramen since I’m feeling generous today. Hehehe”

“I…”

“I know. Not feeling like eating out, I get it. Let me cook then~.”

“Gaeul?” I speak, before she stands up from the couch.

“Yes? I am listening.”

“You don’t have to cook; we can order pizza… don’t let that 5 bucks go to waste” I try my best to squeeze out a faint smile, “and can you please… stay for a bit? It…”

“It feels nice when you are not alone, I know. Take your time, I’m not going anymore.”

Her shoulder feels weirdly warm.

After whoever-knows how long, my stomach starts to protest as I spent too much energy crying. I eventually depart from Gaeul’s shoulder and order pizza on my phone.

“Ok, it seems like the boy who’s always smiling is back. I’ll make you some tea, you dehydrated hard after crying for, one hour?”

“Gaeul, thank you, really.” I feel like something very deep inside me had just snapped, but I can’t tell what it is.

“Not a big deal, remember, you’re not alone in this apartment~.” Gaeul walks to the lamp and turns it on, the dim orange light embracing her warm smile.

-

I already can’t remember the taste of the pizza last night, but rather the silent, awkward tension that starts to build. It’s weekend. How can I pretend nothing happened last night and say good morning to her while I cried on her shoulder like a baby for an entire hour last night? And yeah, I for sure caused troubled for her. It was supposed to be her night off from work, but I made it messy. I know she would do the same if it happens again, but I really don’t want to annoy her and overstep the boundaries.

“It’s only getting more awkward…” I sigh, pushing my bedroom door open and head towards the kitchen for breakfast. Very unfortunately timing, Gaeul is always there, brewing her coffee.

“Morning~” She smiles, not mentioning anything that happened last night.

Does that mean I caused trouble? Why is she not talking about the left-over pizza that’s right on the kitchen table?

“Good morning Gaeul, can I get my mug on the shelf really quick?” I respond, hands out for my mug. But I accidentally run into her, as she stood before the shelf and didn’t move.

“Oops, I am so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” She gives me an apologetic look, while handing me my mug herself. Her finger touches mine. We both freeze.

“You’re good.” Maybe I said it too fast.

---

“Why isn't he drinking the tea? Did he not like it, or was I being 'too much' again? He did compliment it last night over the pizza, but maybe he was just being polite. I stare at the coffee pot and force a smile, but my skin is still prickling. That touch—the one he probably didn't even mean? It’s making my face burn. Did I make it obvious?”

---

“Why do I feel like Gaeul’s fingers lingered a bit longer than usual? Am I overthinking, or does she feel the static too? Damn, I must be making it up. I probably pulled away too fast. Gaeul, I didn’t mean to make it awkward—I’m just terrified of doing the wrong thing. Am I too cold?”

---

The rest of the breakfast feels extra silent compared to usual. Gaeul, for some reason, just stares at her plate of pancakes and sips her coffee. I devour the microwaved left-over pizza in a haste as I just can’t stand the silence anymore.

“Thank you for your coffee as usual, I’ll talk to you later.” I dip back to my bedroom. For the entire afternoon, I try my hardest to focus and get some assignments done. But I realize Gaeul is replacing my knowledge with herself. Maybe, just maybe. I know I have a new love.

But would she feel the same? I doubt.

I encounter Gaeul again in the late afternoon when I get drink from the fridge. She is sitting on the couch, watching TV with popcorns stuffing her cheeks.

“Hey Gaeul, you look like a squirrel now~” I try to ease my nervousness as I walk by, only to let the familiar scent of her shampoo capture me.

“Hehehe…” She giggles, mumbled a few words but just gets muted by the popcorns in her mouth. Maybe something like “Getting a drink?”

---

“I feel my heart skips a beat as she smiles at me with those cute cheeks. Wait, did I just call Gaeul cute? I crack open a can of Celsius from the fridge, chugging it in one go to just try to distract my attention. I never knew her shampoo smells this good, not until, like last night.”

---

“Oh gosh… did he just call me a squirrel? I think squirrels are cute, did he imply I look cute with my cheek with popcorns? I must be overthinking again, maybe he just came out for drink. Hey, why is he chugging his drink while staring at me? Am I actually cute? I’d better stop looking at his direction, but my face must be beet red right now. That’s so lame…”

---

I intentionally walk around the couch that Gaeul is sitting on to avoid further eye contact with her. I take a quick glance at her; both cheeks are still full of popcorns. Squirrels are cute, Gaeul. I didn’t expect you to get what I wanted to say anyways. Damn, I hope I didn’t mess things up.

I hear footsteps towards the main door, and I peek through my window a minute later. Gaeul is out, confirmed. I come up with a plan. It seems just too embarrassing interacting with Gaeul at this point, maybe I do need to clam down for a few days. I think I’m gonna finish up the draft of my presentation and go to the library to print it out. Maybe I’ll just eat some fast food outside? Then I don’t have to sit at the same table with Gaeul and have my face red like a cherry. Perfect plan. I quickly gather up my attention and speedrun my presentation before heading towards my school library with my laptop.

---

Wait, I see him coming out of house, finally. It is three laps of walking around our community! I just need some air, it is so awkward~ Gosh, I knew he’s going to library to print stuff out. Hmm… is it even open? It’s Saturday today, hehehe…

---

Damn it, I only realize it is Saturday by the time I reach the closed door of the library. The presentation is on Monday morning! And I need the scripts to be printed out, maybe I should kindly ask Gaeul to borrow her printer? She seems to be printing her sheet music every now and then. Maybe it is also a way to go? Let me text her really quick.

“Hey Gaeul, may I please borrow your printer to print out some stuff I need for Monday morning? It is for a presentation and quite urgent ☹, I am at the library rn, only to realize it is closed.”

“Oh hey~, no problem at all! I went out to get some air; the weather is really nice today. My laptop is on the couch and it is not locked. Feel free!”

I then pace back to the apartment; it is still the same compared to when I left. Gaeul’s Popcorn bucket is still sitting on the couch, her laptop placed right next to the blanket that she used while watching TV not long ago. I intentionally sit on the exact spot that she was, trying to acquire a bit of more of her lingering warmth and shampoo scent from the couch cover.

Her laptop is still warm, I put it on my thigh, plugging in my USB-drive and carefully presses the spacebar once to wake it up. It is just business, let me get this done.

I am expecting a blank browser page, maybe the main desktop with a cute background – Gaeul is always so bright. But what I see is not what I should see. It is a Word document, looking like the draft for her new song lyrics by the formatting. I know it is just business; I am not supposed to look at her personal stuff. Gaeul trusted me enough to leave her laptop unlocked (although I’ve seen the laptop sitting on the couch for weeks, I never knew it was not locked. LOL. I didn’t mean to be creepy), so I have no reason to violate her trust, especially when it is in an awkward situation like this.

I swear I’ll just look at what’s already there. Nothing more. I look at the very top of the document, it is titled “My Jamais Vu.” The black cursor is blinking right at the end of the first stanza, like it is luring me in to discover Gaeul’s mind. OK, I’ll only read what’s on the screen.

I don't see a song. I see a mess. There are words crossed out so hard the digital cursor seems to ache. "Twenty dollars" is underlined twice, right next to the word "transaction." The image of Gaeul’s silhouette starts to unwrap in my chaotic brain. To her, I wasn’t trying to be fair and friendly by paying back the drinks she bought for me, but trying to put a price tag on the kindness and care she gave me. It starts to sting.

Beneath that, a lopsided phrase about "kettle steam" and "waiting for a door to click." My heart does a slow, painful roll in my chest. She wasn't just being nice. She was counting the seconds I spent hiding from her. Every time I thought I was being "careful" or "discrete" this week, Gaeul was right there, documenting the distance.

Then, at the very bottom, a single, un-edited line that makes the room feel ten degrees colder:

"You are my most familiar stranger...My Jamais Vu, I’m relearning your name at every sunrise."

She isn't just my roommate anymore. She’s someone who has to actively pretend she doesn't know the exact sound of my breathing through a wall just to keep our lives from collapsing.

Click. The door swings open. It sounds like a summer storm outside, Gaeul is basically dashing through the door. Her hair is damped from the rain outside, but she still giggles quietly. “Hey, it’s raining really hard outside… are you printing your stuff? Oh…shoot…...” She sees the laptop sideways, and it is obviously on that Words document that she forgot to close when she left.

The final barrier between me and Gaeul is disappearing. The maze of uncertainty, the fear of being too much—the walls we both built are finally starting to crumble.

“I… I was trying to print, I promise I didn’t mean to...” I should be happy, but instead, I’m just overloaded.

“It’s fine. How much did you read?” Gaeul squeezes a faint smile, shivers slightly from the weather, a few drops of rain on her pink hair falls to the carpet.

I stutter, but for the first time in weeks, I recognize a closing window. This is my only chance. I stand up, leaving the laptop—and her secrets—on the couch. “I read enough to know I was an idiot for that twenty-dollar bill. Enough to realize I left you alone every time you were waiting for me at breakfast. I just... I didn’t dare.”

“Didn’t dare to have breakfast with me?” Gaeul’s voice is small. “Did I make you feel overwhelmed?”

“No, absolutely not! Please don’t think that, Gaeul. Every time we ate together, it was the highlight of my day. Your music, your stories about the pub shifts... it was perfect. I was just afraid that I was the one getting too close. I didn't want to ruin the only good thing I had.”

Gaeul sits down to the couch right next to me, the fresh scent of grass and rain mixes with her floral shampoo. We both are visibly flushed, the air between us is heavy, with all the secrets we were hiding from each other.

“So… can I assume that you wanted to get close?” Gaeul covers her mouth, her tone remarkably calm compared to the hammering in my chest.

“I didn’t know, to be honest,” I admit, my hands starting to tremble. “Not until I read those lines. I was too afraid to mess things up. I never thought I deserved someone so caring, so warm...” I stop, reaching for a dry towel from the kitchen island and offering it to her like a peace offering. “And someone so beautiful.”

“Oh my gosh… stop. You’re going to give me a heart attack,” Gaeul whispers, her face as red as the kimchi soup she makes for me. She takes the towel with shaking hands. “Do you know how much I worried about being ‘too much’? I never wanted my care to become your burden. Every time I saw you chugging that Celsius just to avoid looking at me... I thought I’d failed.” She reaches into her jacket hanging by the door and pulls out the crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “I knew I’d screwed up when I found this. It was never supposed to be a transaction.”

“No… it was on me Gaeul. My life is already a mess… I cannot afford to lose one more precious roommate like you, but do you know what?”

“Y-yes?” Gaeul buries her face in the towel, refusing to meet my eyes. Her blush has spread all the way to the tips of her ears.

“I want to be more than a roommate to you, Gaeul.”

Silence.

The silence that follows is heavy, broken only by the rain against the glass. Then, a few quiet sobs. The sound of Gaeul crying starts to drown out the summer storm outside. She pulls her face from the towel, her eyes bright and shimmering.

She looks at me, face off the towel. “ME TOO! Do you know how long did I wait for you to say this to me? *sobs* I was writing this song because I was so afraid that I would make things weird if I confess first. *sobs* Then I wrote this song, about how badly I wanted you, but equally frightened to lose it all. *sobs* I… I don’t want you to see me as a kind noona who makes tea, I… want to be the one that brings you happiness to your world…”

“You had always been, Gaeul.” I feel the need to capture this moment, so I pull her close to me for a firm hug. Her chests against mine, still moves up and down from the sobbing. I brush and caress her hair that is damped from the rain, the other hand gently padding her back. “I… I am really an odd one, aren’t I? I should’ve confessed earlier.”

A light giggle escapes her throat, as she pulls back from my hug and the familiar smile is back to her face – this time with a slight hint of mischief. She cups my face with her small hands, fingers trembling. “Ahem… I think we should kinda make this afternoon memorable, shall we?”

I don’t wait for another word, but I rather crash my lips into hers. The kiss is not cinematic and messy, but rather a firm statement. A moment for two hopeless romantics to let go off their guards and truly see each other through their disguise – their disguise forced by mess in life. Our kiss lingers like the static electricity before a lightning strike—sharp, sudden, and grounding. When we finally pull apart, the apartment feels different.

Gaeul is still flushed, her small hands resting on my chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of my heart that hasn't quite slowed down yet. She looks down at the laptop, then back at me, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "So," she whispers, her voice still a little thick from crying. "Does this mean I have to rewrite the bridge? The part about the 'familiar stranger' doesn't really fit anymore."

I can't help it; a genuine laugh breaks through the lingering tension in my throat. I reach out, tucking a damp strand of pink hair behind her ear. "I think you should keep it. As a reminder of how much of a coward I was. Besides... I like the melody."

“Hey, don’t be fake! You haven’t even heard the melody.” She protests.

“But I know it is going to be good,” I reach for her face again, “because you wrote it.”

“Gosh… never knew you are a romantic like this…” Gaeul fakes a sigh, before pressing her lips back on mine once more. We carefully savor each other, as the masquerade comes to an end. I don’t know how long had passed, but the heavy rain outside is quieting down.

“Gaeul, can you hum me the melody for the song then? I’m curious.” We finally break apart from each other, Gaeul reaches for the towel to dry her hair.

“Imagine a song that’s like… I will wear a veil while singing it. A bit of mystery, a bit of whispering, a bit of melancholy vibes. And yeah, think about when I sing the chorus, I added wind sound and a lot of harmonics. Trust, it is gonna be a hit~” Gaeul’s grin is wide and proud, as a musician should be to her work.

“We’ll see, alright Gaeul… I guess we should get some food, shouldn’t we? I’ll cook.”

“Better be good,” she teases, leaning against the armrest. "I have very high standards for my 'more-than-a-roommate'."

“Already? I thought we are just getting started.” I joke, leaning back in to kiss her temple.

Gaeul stands up to join me, grabbing my wrist from behind. The laptop sits forgotten on the couch, the screen finally timed out into blackness. The document is saved. The song is finished. And as I reach for the rice cooker, I realize that for the first time in months, I’m not worried about the Monday morning presentation or the mess of my life, the mess of my family.

I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

“But Gaeul, my life is like a mess right now. I’ll really try my best, but don’t blame me if I mess stuff up, ok?”

“Hey, who says my life isn’t? Isn’t that why we need boyfriends and girlfriends? Motivate each other, make each other’s live better, blah blah blah…”

“Yea, let’s make something out of nothing…”

Gaeul nods, “Let’s make something super beautiful.”

“You should add that line to your song; it is a nice one.”

“I definitely should,”

-

coming-of-age romance

yknow just two childhood best friends who reunite as adults, rekindling their feelings after years apart

Yujin plays the effortlessly charming, slightly cocky female lead

she plays it so well that sometimes you wonder if she’s even acting

the kissing scene is supposed to be a slow, lingering one

JUST ONE single, meaningful kiss before you both pull away

but in the behind-the-scenes clip, Yujin kisses you once…

then twice…

then three times in succession, grinning as she leans in AGAIN

"Director-nim, I think I forgot my lines. We should redo this," she jokes, right before pressing ANOTHER soft kiss against your lips

you hear the staff definitely snickering in the background

the clip goes viral instantly

"SHE'S SO OBVIOUS??? GIRL WAS HAVING THE TIME OF HER LIFE" "yujin’s method acting is just... wanting to kiss her co-star over and over?? that's kinda sus" "we all saw her SMILE between kisses. Yujin, be fr”

in an interview, Yujin just smirks when asked about it

"I just got really into character”

"Or maybe you just didn’t want the scene to end?”

“Maybe," she says, dimples showing

that knowing smile and those twinkling eyes. iykyk

Gaeul

The Respected Actress Who’s Known for Elegance

historical sapphic romance

your characters are from opposing noble families, bound by duty but helplessly drawn to each other

her character is graceful, composed — until it comes to you

the kiss is supposed to be a gentle, chaste press of lips before she pulls away

in the behind-the-scenes footage tho…

Gaeul stays close, her lips brushing yours a second time…

then a third

her hand lingers against your cheek as she murmurs, "Just one more."

the director eventually yells, "CUT — Gaeul, that was not in the script!"

Gaeul just smiles, eyes still locked onto yours. "Wasn't it?"

the video of her very unscripted kisses spreads like wildfire

"Gaeul is the definition of a hopeless romantic." "sis said 'I’m staying in character' but that was just her real emotions cuz wdym jUST ONE MORE” "HER LITTLE SMILE AFTER THE KISS !!! SHE KNEW WHAT SHE WAS DOING"

when asked about it in an interview, Gaeul simply tilts her head and says, "I think the scene needed more... emotion."

Rei

Rising Star with an Intense Fanbase

soft and slow-burn romance

from being enemies to falling deeply in love

Rei plays the cold, tsundere-type lead who only softens for you

the script calls for one short, hesitant kiss

instead, the clip that leaks shows Rei lingering, hesitating

but then leaning in again for another kiss

and another

and another !!

she lets out a breathy, nervous laugh against your lips and whispers:

“I think we should try it one more time. For, uh, realism."

the comments go insane

"REEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIII GIRL, THAT WASN’T NECESSARY" "she was acting like she had a crush ON HER ACTUAL CO-STAR" "we got FOUR kisses instead of ONE like Naoi Rei, do you want to explain??"

during a live broadcast, Rei’s face turns bright red when Joy asks about it

she hides behind her hands before stammering, "I-I was just in the moment!"

Wonyoung

The Goddess of K-Drama, Korea’s Sweetheart

glamorous and dramatic romance

filled with longing stares, fancy gala scenes, and breathtaking confessions

Wonyoung plays the rich, untouchable CEO who falls for the heir of another company a.k.a. you

the script said the kiss scene is meant to be a slow, tension-filled moment

Wonyoung was supposed to barely brush her lips against yours before pulling away

but in the leaked behind-the-scenes clip, she doesn’t pull away

like, at all

instead, she kisses you again

and then? again

she smiles against your lips, completely breaking character, and murmurs, "I can’t help it, you’re too pretty."

the internet obviously loses it

I mean, it IS Jang Wonyoung

"wonyoung was just indulging herself at that point like that was the gayest sht I ever heard her say" "She literally whispered sweet nothings between kisses. Is this even acting?" "Jang Wonyoung took 'one more take' as 'ten more kisses' and I respect that"

in an interview, Wonyoung just giggles and winks at the camera

"Oops?"

Liz

The Lovable Actress Who Plays the Best WLW Leads

cozy, heartfelt romance

just two childhood best friends who realize their feelings after years of quiet pining

Liz plays the warm, affectionate, best-friend-turned-lover role too convincingly

the kiss is meant to be a soft, fleeting touch of lips

in the leaked video, however, Liz doesn’t stop

she pulls you in closer, her hands resting on your waist as she deepens the kiss, tilting her head slightly like she wants more

she even lets out the softest hum before breaking away, her gaze locked onto yours

"That felt natural, right?"

the staff erupts in laughter because who even says that after breaking character?!

the clip goes insanely viral with fans saying:

"y/n better check if she still has her heart because I’m pretty sure liz just stole it" "Her hands were so gentle… so soft… so tender… I am on the floor" "Kim Jiwon, sweetie, that was NOT 'just acting’"

when asked about it, Liz just laughs sheepishly

"Hmm, I guess I got… a little too into the scene?"

Leeseo

The Rising Star Who Masters the Best Slow-Burn Romances

soft, heartwarming coming-of-age romance

two childhood best friends navigating the bittersweet transition into something more

Leeseo is the endearing best-friend-who-loves-you-more-than-she-says

the moment of realization is meant to be subtle

just a lingering glance, fingers brushing, an unspoken understanding

but in the leaked behind-the-scenes clip...

Leeseo doesn’t let go of your hand, her thumb gently tracing over your knuckles

she tilts her head, her voice softer than usual when she asks, "Do you really not feel it?"

then, without thinking, she reaches up, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, her fingertips barely grazing your skin

the director yells "CUT," but Leeseo stays still as if she didn't hear a thing, her eyes still searching yours for something unspoken

the clip spreads like wildfire online and fans absolutely lose their minds:

"Leeseo’s gaze alone deserves an award. Why does it feel like she’s actually in love??" "dude the way she hesitates before pulling away??? this is NOT just acting y'all" "Can we talk about her voice breaking a little?? Like, she ACTUALLY meant that line" "WHY did she tuck Y/N’s hair behind her ear so gently? I am unwell oml"

when asked about the scene, Leeseo just laughs

"Hmm... Maybe I was a little too in character?"

You try to drown out the noise in your head with a twist of your wrist, but the key experiences some resistance. You twist it again in place, revving the engine up for a few seconds, giving you a false glimmer of hope with a whir before it peters out.

Yanking the key out of the socket, you beat your fist repeatedly onto the horn of your white 2011 Honda Civic—the hand-me-down from your lawyer cousin, which was a hand-me-down from his parents to yours—blaring it out to the innocent emptiness of the street. Beads of sweat drip down your face as the afternoon heat is beginning to waft in, and your lack of air-conditioning is becoming blatantly present.

And for a moment—just for a second—you swear you see hear her voice.

“You can tell a lot about a guy based on how he treats his car: he’ll treat you the same way—if not worse.”

“Ga … -eul?”

You see the mirage of her sitting on the hood of your car, waving at someone in the distance, stretching her arms out to receive an invisible person before slamming backwards fully and giggling under the afternoon sun.

You blink again and she’s gone.

Trembling, you return the key to its socket, twist gently, and sure enough, the car alights and the engine turns on.

Slotting your phone into its stand conveniently placed beneath the rearview mirror, you leave your parking slot and begin to drive out of the narrow alleyway just outside your apartment. You don’t need to turn on maps or directions. You know where you’re going. You’ve been there too many times to count. Instead, you flick open your notifications as you turn left onto the main road.

There are seventeen of them. And they are all from Wonyoung.

Babe you didn’t eat breakfast? But I made you your favorite?

Babe you didn’t eat lunch either?

Where the hell are you going?

Babe???

You know you’re being petty right now right? Can you at least reply to me?

I’m just worried

Babe

Babe

Babe

At least be back before eight. Dinner reservation’s at ten

You are still coming with me for dinner right?

Right?

Babe?

In between those strings of messages, you missed her call around four times. You should be feeling a sinking feeling in your gut. A taste of remorse on your tongue. But it doesn’t come at all.

There are some things you can’t tell your girlfriend of five years. Because there are some things she wouldn’t understand even if she tried. There are some things that a woman raised with a golden spoon, who lives in a penthouse suite, and has flights to Paris or New York or Milan every week, wouldn’t understand.

Because there are some things you would very much rather tell someone else.

And you’re taking the next two hours to drive to her place right now. 

It doesn’t take long until you’re on the highway. You’re past the toll and you’re currently speeding up to match the pace of the other vehicles around you. It’s just a straight and seemingly endless drive from here on out. Until you have to take the proper exit, at least. But until then, you can just turn your mind off.

But you know that’s a lie. It only gets louder from here.

And there’s nothing you can do but entertain your thoughts.

You take a glance at the your reflection in the rearview mirror. There’s a pump of shock that courses through your veins. For what stares back at you is the image of a man you don’t even recognize anymore.

Surely, this isn’t you. This can’t be. How … did you turn into this?

You look so … tired. So … unhappy.

But even then that’s an understatement.

Your eyebags drag heavier across your face than the resting position of your mouth—of your supposed smile. If you can even call it that anymore. The years you spent slaving away at the office dried your skin, grizzled your hair, drained the light from your eyes. Your pupils are nothing but voids that simply exist. They don’t devour, they don’t claim, they don’t desire anything. They’re just there. Empty pools of nothingness. So vacant that you could barely even remember what used to occupy them.

Was it a hobby or two? A pastime of yours? A goal? A childhood dream?

You can’t glean anything. How could you? Dying stars often leave very little behind.

“We’re going to need some money. For the rent. For food. For school. Oh! And we’re going to need to do our own promotions as well. Maybe hire someone to make the cover. I can try to learn some Photoshop, but then that’s less time trying to write too. What do you think, baby?”

You close your eyes, lips twitching in but the slightest of waves as you exhale through them. “I … I don’t think it’s realistic, baby. All of this … what if it doesn’t work out? All those years just … wasted. All for what? A silly dream of ours? It’s one thing to hope for something, but … making it happen? That’s … that’s difficult. That’s scary.”

You remember every single word you said in reply to her all those years ago. And you very much so remember what she said to you in response as well.

“But isn’t that the fun part? Going through it together with you?”

Your eyes dart open when you hear the sound of a car getting dangerously close to your side. When you come to consciousness, your vehicle’s deathly near a black van going the same speed that you are.

The driver rolls down the passenger window and starts screaming obscenities at you. You pay it no mind. Say nothing in complaint. Keep looking straight ahead. You deserve it.

You instead wait for him to speed off before taking another shaky breath. “Fuck.”

You flip open the radio.

The news is nothing but a shot of bullshit through your skull. Something about war. Something about inflation. Something about rising temperatures. You’re already awfully aware about these things. You’d rather not think about them any further. But at this point, anything’s better than the muck that’s pooling in your head.

But you decide to turn the radio off and instead tune into your thoughts once more.

When? When … did things begin to turn out this way?

You could have sworn you were just a high schooler dreaming of a better life, excited to head into university. You had pockets filled with dreams and hope for the future like bags of stardust bursting and spreading wanderlust across the halls of your alma mater. You remember a hint of the distant past in between your bated breaths—of the times when your biggest worries were what game to play or what movie to watch when you got home, when your worst fear was not having someone to take to the prom, when your greatest thrill was being able to chug more than four or five cans of beer in under two minutes at the weekend’s party.

Now?

Now, you can’t figure out for the life of you which concern of yours is more taxing: figuring out where to invest your money for passive gains or whether to continue further into higher education or not. Your worst fear is not having enough time to cycle between your routines—revising your copywriting outputs for the extra money in the mornings, preparing for lectures and departmental meetings in the afternoon, squeezing what little you have left to stay awake for your nightly coffee dates and shopping sprees with Wonyoung in the evening.

You should be happy. At least, you believe you should. You have an undergraduate degree, and you’re finishing up on your masters. You somehow manage to maintain the upkeep for your current apartment. You have a lovely, beautiful, and successful girlfriend. What more could you ask for in this life?

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? That’s the cruel thing about it all.

You aren’t happy.

You aren’t happy at all.

“I kinda like moments like these, you know?”

“What …?”

“Just the little moments I can spend with you,” Gaeul explains as she places a hand on your thigh, and you swear to god you can almost feel it. Her slender fingers caressing just above your skin. The occasional flutter and squeeze of her palm flat against your knee. The warmth of her touch even through the fabric of your jeans. “I know it’s not much, really, but it means a lot more to me than you think, baby.”

“But … but I want more than this. I want to give you more than just this. I-I … I want to be more than this. For you. I-I-I … I promise … I promise I’ll do my best to make you happy.”

She chuckles, and it’s almost like hearing a choir of angels serenading you. “You already do that, silly. You already make me happy. That’s all I need.”

“Just you.”

Before you can choke up on the memory playing out before you, your phone blows up. You fail to notice how many notification pings you’re getting, but when you finally do, you realize who it’s from.

Wonyoung.

You try to silence it with one hand, but it’s hard enough trying to keep your eyes on the road and drive while managing your phone screen off to one side. You have the hairline crack down the corner of your phone to blame for this. Because of it, your fat fingers instead accidentally press on the call that’s ringing, forcing you to be on the receiving end now of her scolding.

“Babe, where the hell are you?” her voice erupts from your busted speakers, grating your ears. “You have a lot of explaining to do. Did you go out with your college friends again?”

“You … you could say that—.”

“Why won’t you just answer me directly?” Wonyoung grunts, and you can sense the utmost distaste and displeasure in her tone. “Our dinner is in about five hours—wait. Wait, where are you? Why are you driving so fast?”

“I … I’m just …”

You can’t tell her. You can’t tell your girlfriend that you’re going eighty down the highway, far away from her, to meet your fucking ex-girlfriend again. 

“Whatever. Just make sure to get back in time. If you aren’t here at least two hours before we have to go, I won’t hesitate to leave you behind.”

Don’t threaten me with a good time, is what you want to say, but you hold your tongue and refrain from blurting out anything you might regret. “Loud and clear. Anything else?”

And of course, Wonyoung takes the invitation and stretches it for a mile.

She’s rambling, ranting, hounding on your sorry ass. She’s jumping from topic to topic. At first, she berates you for your lack of communication, how she feels like she has to tell you what to do every single time, and questions your lack of sincerity in your relationship—in life as well as a whole. Then she’s telling you about last week’s trip to Italy, and how the hotel wasn’t what she expected, and the woe of being served ‘poor quality lobster’. Then she’s telling you about this new sponsor who wants to meet her, and how she might not be able to meet you on your daily dates for a couple of days next week—much to your delight and relief. Then she’s asking you about whether you’re still aiming for a promotion, cleaning up your thesis, or considering moving to a better paying job as a professor at another university. Then she’s hinting at meeting her parents when they come over from Korea during the winter, about the possibility of marriage between you two in the next year or so, and how you might want to find a bigger apartment for the kids.

And it’s so. Fucking. Loud.

You have thought of those things already. But do you have any answers to them?

You love Wonyoung. You really do. Any other man out there would kill to be in your place and to be dating her. But there’s just something that’s painfully and unmistakably absent in your relationship.

Something that’s … missing.

You’d be lying if you said Wonyoung didn’t make you feel so insecure. Even just sitting right across her every night at the dinner table already extols a heavy tax on your psyche. She’s got it all: the looks, the brains, the competence, the affluence, the success. She’s got all that you could ever dream of—all that you could wish for in life.

Worst of all, she’s already got it all figured out.

Who are you to someone like her? You’re not quite sure.

Too old to get into hustle culture and make your first million by a certain age, to be considered a prodigy despite all the effort and sacrifice you had to make to get to where you are, to feel like you’ve still got a lot of years left ahead of you when the deadlines to achieve life milestones come speeding at you faster than you’d like them to, to start over with all the knowledge and mistakes and what-ifs you’ve been carrying around with you, to still ‘take it easy’ and keep telling yourself that ‘life isn’t a race’ when in reality you’re running out of time—you know you already are.

Too young to feel like you really know what you’re doing in your life, to be certain about the trajectory of your career and your future, to be a mentor towards others or even to just give advice to the younger generations, to have a say in anything that the boomers throw at you during parties, get-togethers, and reunions.

You’re neither here nor there. Then again, were you anywhere to begin with?

Where did you want to be at your age? You’re not even sure.

Where do you want to be in ten years? You can’t even begin to think about making it that far.

Where do you want to end up in life? You’d rather not fucking ask. You’d rather not fucking know.

But Wonyoung? She amplifies all these little whispers of uncertainty that linger in the back of your mind and echo them like loudspeakers into the forefronts of your consciousness.

Wonyoung is someone who has all the answers, and she makes you want to come up with answers for yourself.

And there lies the problem. For you have no answers.

Because you don’t want them. 

Not anymore.

“You’re an amazing writer, baby. Are you kidding me? I even love your little drabbles!”

“Stop it, you’re just saying that because … you want me to pay for dinner again tonight.”

“While I do want an extra serving of fries, I really mean it though. Do you not believe me?” Gaeul cooes, giving you the pouty look and the pleading eyes. “You just need more confidence in yourself. Confidence in what you have to say. That they mean something. That they can impact and inspire other people.”

“But I just … I’m just writing out of nowhere. Pulling everything out of my ass. What if … what if that stops working? And besides, you’re my only reader. This is all just a silly bit between us both anyway. It’s not like it’s anything serious.”

“Is that all this will ever be to you?”

“What …?”

“Your writing? Your dream to be a writer one day? A novelist? Our dream to pursue that together—is that all they will ever be to you? Just a joke?”

You can’t respond. Years later, and you still can’t respond.

Can you really call writing a dream? Can you even call writing a passion?

When was the last time you even wrote something?

You glance down at both of your hands, at the blunt tips, at their hardened palms, at the stretch of their pores. These hands of yours have seen much work over the years, but when you try to really think about it, it’s been far longer since you’ve last put them to pen and paper. You tell yourself you’d get back to—get back into writing. One of these days, surely. But then the next day turned into the next week, and the next week turned into the next month, and suddenly your previous certainty for a timeframe of return stretched into ambiguity. ‘Soon’, you claim. But ‘soon’ has already been mourned.

What did you have to show for yourself? Nothing.

What kind of a fucking writer doesn’t even write anything. Not even an idea. Not even a plot beat. Not even an ounce of inspiration milked from the drying smoothened folds of your brain that still attempts to be blessed by a muse.

Can you really claim that writing is a part of you? That you enjoy—or even enjoyed—writing without definitive proof of it?

Can you even call writing yours anymore? Or is its only purpose now to serve as a talking point when meeting new people?

You have no response to that. But maybe your actions have already answered for you.

You never ended up finishing your creative writing degree. You took a departmental exam without Gaeul knowing, and you shifted your course. Shifted your degree. Humanities. Social science. Psychology. You heard the degree isn’t so bad. Has some practicality to it. Isn’t hard science either, and mostly skips any math in the curriculum. You still don’t know what you’re going to do with it, but it’s something that’s easy. Something that can potentially help pay the bills better in the future. Something that can get you somewhere, anywhere, away from here.

But where are you now?

Stuck as an undergraduate lecturer, contracted every semester as needed, fearing for your life when you might, in fact, be no longer needed. You’re not even in a field remotely related to your degree, and you feel the certificate vaporizing on your wall within its displayed casing like a memento of your terrible life decisions. It wasn’t your choice to continue with further education. It was Wonyoung’s suggestion. It was Wonyoung’s demand. It’s expensive. It’s difficult. It’s so fucking tiring. But she said it would pave the way towards a better future for you. Something about more opportunities. Something about climbing more ladders and reaching farther up in the hierarchy.

But god forbid you’re so fucking tired of climbing.

You glance at the rearview mirror again, and you see tears welling up in your eyes. It’s only then that you remember Wonyoung’s still on the phone with you.

“Babe?”

You sniffle, blinking your eyes rapidly to try and dry them off. “Yeah … yeah, still here.”

“Are you talking to someone on the side? You were saying some things while I was speaking. Or were you answering me?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see an empty and untouched passenger’s seat right next to you. “No one. Nothing … Just probably the wind.”

Just probably the wind.

“Ok then, well. Like I said, I know things are rough for you right now, but this dinner means a lot to me. So if you could please just show up? On time? For me?”

Empty. Her words weigh nothing—mean nothing—to you.

You already know the response to this as well. It slips out from your lips and drags out from your throat before you can even think it. “Yes Wonyoung, I’ll be there. I promise.”

“Thanks babe. You know I love you right?”

Her words slice and sever the arteries and veins from deep within your chest. “I … Me too.”

She says a few final things about the food later tonight, about the ratings of this place she reserved herself, on how much it all costed her. You know it’s part of her usual routine to guilt trip you further, but they all just fly over your head. 

It’s only when she ends the call that you finally get a moment to breathe again. 

You feel your grip on the wheel starting to weaken. You feel the sag in your elbow as it swings and drops closer to your hip. You wish you could stop driving now. It’s about half an hour left until the exit you need to take. You just have to tough it out.

“You’re so cozy.”

You close your eyes. You don’t want to, but you let it happen. You picture your life from not-so-long ago. When things were easier. Things were simpler. When things were quieter. “I could say the same for you. Don’t you get bored of this though? Just … laying here. In your room? Doing nothing?”

“We’re doing something!”

“Doing what exactly?”

“Being together.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Hey … you’ll … you’ll keep your promise, right? The promise we made?”

There’s a stabbing in your throat now, and it’s difficult to swallow. You feel the same piercing sensation behind your retinas—within your eyeballs. You’re halfway between a cry and just feeling numb.

You miss her. You fucking miss Kim Gaeul.

Wonyoung may have provided you with a house. But Kim Gaeul? She was the one who made you feel like you had a home.

You easily remember the first time she ever invited you into her dingy little place that could barely pass as an apartment. You recall the first things she said to you as she opened the door.

“Ya! Baby, I love you, but please—at least stomp off the dirt at the doormat. I don’t want you ruining my carpets.”

She was awfully obsessed with her expensive carpets. They had this little Chinese design embroidered in patterns across it. It’s very well made, and she loved them dearly. You both enjoyed just laying down on them. They were thick enough to make you feel their presence beneath your back, but they were thin enough to to feel comfortable on. They were gifts from her late grandmother before she passed. She treasures them more than anything else you’ve ever seen.

Kim Gaeul was very much your carpet. You’ve loved her more than anyone else in this lifetime. More than yourself, even. And now that she’s gone … you find yourself returning to her anyway.

How pathetic can you really be?

Forget even discussing the possibility of toxic masculinity in your veins. You are downright hopeless for a human. At your fucking age you still think you can come running back to your ex when you have problems? When you can’t deal with shit by yourself? What kind of person shuts down when they’re overwhelmed? What kind of person runs away from their responsibilities instead of facing them head-on? What kind of man bitches about the inconveniences in his life instead of working out ways to address them?

You. Clearly that’s you. You’re the king of making fucking excuses, and that’s why you haven’t made it anywhere in the world. If you had just listened to the unsolicited words of advice from your uncles and aunts, if you had just listened to the persistent sermons of your advisors and seniors at the university, if only you had listen to every tip and suggestion Wonyoung gave you to help you further yourself in your career, then maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t be bitching about a subpar life and instead be relishing in a bit more success.

But that’s the thing, right? You didn’t listen. To any of it. You thought you were above it. You thought you were above them. You thought you knew better than all these boomers and adults who have lived on this world longer than you have. You thought you could be different. You thought you could find your own way—your own path—in life with your own hands. Even if it was unconventional. Even if it took time. But where did that get you? You strayed from the fixed and known path, and where did that bring you? Back to routine. Back to being a cog in a machine. Back to mediocrity.

Did you really think that you were any better than the last guy? Did you really think that you were special in this life?

You tried screaming into the void for years, demanding it return your efforts, your attempts to repress it, to reward your mild defiance of the structures of life itself. But did you really expect everything to go your way? What kind of fucking main character ass attitude do you have, idiot? It got really tiring repeatedly doing that too, didn’t it? Serves you right, asshole.

As it turns out, you can be more pathetic apparently, as you nearly ram into the barriers of the highway.

Righting yourself and preventing your left side mirror from being blown off by the barricades that are ready to nick it from your ride, your phone begins to blow up again. The jingle—it’s different. It’s less personal. More professional. Not a check-in. Not a request. But a demand.

It’s from Microsoft Fucking Teams.

Your fingers fly to your phone before you can even curse out loud. But the damn notification for a meeting won’t fucking close. You swear you already told them you couldn’t attend to discuss the event they tried to drag you into. You have … other things to attend to. Better places to be. And for some fuckass reason they still included you in the meeting invite. And now, it’s ringing you up too.

Of course your luck is utter horseshit. Because the tempered glass digging into your phone’s screen made it so you didn’t press cancel. You pressed accept instead once again.

And on video call.

You try to rip your phone out if its stand, but god forbid your mobile data is stronger and faster. Everyone at the meeting wearing button-downs and formal attires in front of edited university-approved backgrounds stared at you quizzically for about a minute as you broadcasted your struggle to terminate the call from your end while in the driver’s seat of your car.

When you finally manage to extricate yourself from that precarious situation, your blood is thick beneath the thin stretch of skin across your face. It was almost as if the heat from the late afternoon all coalesced upon your visage to heat it up to a million degrees.

You grab your phone and with a balled fist, smashed it into the fucking horn.

Once. Twice. Five times. Until your knuckles bruise. Until your phone’s activating different shortcut commands. Until you remember that, once again, you are driving on the highway.

You calm down. For just a moment. You return your phone to the stand and try to focus on the road again.

But you can’t. Everything’s getting so loud again.

You’re going to have to come up with some shitty excuse to the head teacher as to why you were caught seemingly available—and to make matters worse, mid-transit going somewhere else—during the time of your scheduled meeting. On top of that, you’ll have to figure out what sort of load you’re going to have to take up once again to make up for your absence.

The news is going to spread like wildfire, and you just know Wonyoung’s going to find out about it. She hears a lot of things from your peers at the faculty workroom. You’re not sure who exactly she’s friends with there, who she might be close with among the other professors, but you already have this sinking feeling in your gut when you think about the conversation you’re going to have with your girlfriend when you get home.

Speaking of the conversation, you do not even want to think about your girlfriend right now. Why? She’s fucking blowing up your phone again. You just know she already found out. So much for compartmentalizing your life. She’s ringing you. Again and again. And it’s just too fucking much.

The notifications. The alerts. The pop-ups. The alarms. The warnings. The schedules. The deadlines. The issues. The reports. The processes. The cycles. The routines. The bills. The mails. The meetings. The parents. The marriages. The futures.

It’s all too much. It’s all too overwhelming.

It’s all too fucking loud.

You’re not sure. You’re not quite sure. You don’t know what’s worse: a heavy type of dread, or an empty type of sorrow. One weighs down on you as if you were at the bottom of the sea, surrounded on all fronts by nothing but the crushing sensation of trepidation; meanwhile, the other drains you of your essence until you’re nothing but a hollow husk of yourself, simply existing.

Is either any real way to live?

You let go of the wheel.

What if you just …?

You place your hands on your lap and breathe in.

What if it all just …?

You close your eyes, and your right foot presses harder into the gas pedal.

What if you were to just …?

“You’ll keep your promise, right? The promise we made?”

“Gaeul …”

“I need you to make sure you will. For us. For me. So even if I …”

“Gaeul, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry …”

“Even if I fail, someone can still bear the flame and carry the torch of my dreams. Of our dreams.”

“Gaeul, I’m such a fucking coward. In the end, I … I never even tried …”

“You’ll try, won’t you? Even if it’s hard? Especially when it’s hard?”

“Gaeul I didn’t—.”

“I’ll be rooting for you still. Always. Even into the future.”

“Gaeul, I should have known, should have seen the signs. I-I-I—.”

“Even when I’m gone.”

For a moment, you can almost see it. See her. 

The tilt of her head. The warmth of her smile. The gentleness of her gaze. That expanse of skin by the crook of her neck that you love burying your tired and weary face in. That subtle lift and fall of her shoulder whenever you’re yapping to her about a new crazy idea you have for a novel. The way her hands would come over yours as she pulls you forward and into her, dragging you to different food stalls and bookstores she’s discovered around town. The way her lips would meet yours in all the right places and at all the right times. The way her figure just molded perfectly to create the entirety of her form that’s just her—that’s just Kim Gaeul.

And for a moment, you can almost see it too. The final face she must have made before making the worst decision of her life.

But before your thoughts can spiral downwards any further, her voice in your head pulls you out of your subconscious delusions and rights you in your seat, just before you could miss the exit you’ve been trying to remember to take.

You make a hard right, and suddenly, the whole car is skidding. You hear something snap in front of you. You’re not sure what it is. You don’t know jackshit about cars to know what could have broken—what might have gone wrong.

And you start to get an idea of what it might be when you find yourself unable to break.

The lady at the tollbooth is staring at you with absolute terror in her eyes as you just barely manage to swerve away from crashing into her and instead barrel your way through the pole barrier. Forget paying the fine for hitting it—you fucking smashed right through it, sending it flying, shattering your windshield.

You’re pelted by a hailstorm of shards, but you keep driving. Like a final outburst, like a final fit, like a final bellyache in this godforbiddne rotass fucking word. 

You keep going. You have to. You need to make it.

To her.

Your mind does this hauntingly beautiful thing on its own whenever it already knows the protocol. You take a left from the highway exit, make two rights, speed down a long stretch of road that has you dodging cars like a video game, before you force the whole vehicle to take a final sharp left into her community.

The right side of your Civic bodies the gates and bursts it open, leaving even the guard on duty utterly baffled and speechless upon your arrival.

And you are too.

Because now, the car’s tilting, then leaning, then tumbling, then bouncing, then rolling, then folding. Across the road. Into itself. Far away from you.

Your motionless body is ejected like a ragdoll, leaving you sprawled against the sidewalk—the curb sinking deep into your neck, your joints bruised and swelling in all the most painful of places, tendons and ligaments fighting for survival as they try their very best to continue attaching themselves to your muscles and bones—to try and hold up the very physical essence of you together.

But you push up. Into a sit. Then a kneel. And then a stand.

You see your phone blinking different shades of colors, the hairline crack now turning into a web that shatters further into the glass. It’s safe to say that it’s beyond salvaging at this point. It’s safe to say that it can no longer bug you out with reminders or notifications anymore.

You press a hand to your stomach. Against your palm, you watch as an adult spider lily blossoms across it. Damp. Thick. Flowing.

“Fuck …” is all you get out. But you keep moving.

You’re a zombie. Groaning. Chortling. Dragging your carcass across the the sidewalk and into the street where she lives.

And if it weren’t for the viscosity in your throat and lungs, you would have mustered a smile.

It’s beautiful. Oh so beautiful.

You remember visiting her home like this every month for a few years after you had broken up. How you would bring her something to eat while you told her about your days in your new course, or at your new job, and occasionally, about your new girlfriend. She didn’t mind. Gaeul didn’t mind at all. She knew it was about you, and just like she’s always been, she was very receptive towards it.

You know it’s because she just wanted to be with you again—in any way, shape, or form.

And when you see it, when you finally see it once again, you take it all in stride.

The familiar glint of her home built on granite, bronze, and marble. The birds resting atop her roof as they find a moment of solace after their long flights. The smooth and soft green grass that’s littered across her lawn. Her name etched across her front door as if to undeniably claim that this was, in fact, hers.

You stop just outside her property. The boundaries are drawn awfully close to her neighbors’, so you don’t get much wiggle room. But then again, neither does she. You take one step forward, and then another, until you find yourself just a few paces away from her front door.

Then you fall to your knees, hold up a bloody hand towards the surface of the marble, and caress it. You let your fingers trace the way her name is engraved on her door, and you allow them to likewise caress the numbers imprinted just beneath it.

2002. 2023.

You allow yourself to let it go now. You allow yourself to be choked up by the fluids pooling inside you. Whether that’s sweat, blood, or tears, they all come flowing out now. Your feel a pain in your innards with each wince and whimper, and you gather those are from the glass shards that have cut too deeply into your flesh. But you pay it no mind.

“Gaeul ah … I’m so sorry …” you whisper as you caress her face, leaving a bloody handprint against the polished stone. “I thought I … knew what I wanted in this lifetime … but I didn’t … I don’t know …. I don’t fucking know … and after all of that … even after all of that … It’s you. It’s just you. I’m so … so sorry … I failed you. I failed us. A-And I just … I just …”

You can’t even find it in you to confess it to her. You don’t dare do so.

How do you tell your ex-girlfriend, the love of your life whom you lost because of your inability to determine what was going on inside of her head, that you are done? That you are through? You aren’t just adding insult to injury at this point. You’re very much spitting directly into her face and asking her to still smile for you.

Instead, you glance down at your palpitating body, at the blood that’s pouring out of you and soaking the grass beneath your knees in pools of dark crimson, at the bruises across your body that you are certain will no longer heal, and manage a faint smile.

“Ha … haha … I guess I … ruined your carpet, didn’t I …?”

You take a deep breath, lift your chin up, and soak in the warmth of the last few rays of sunshine all around you. 

You stare at her tombstone. You stare at the plans and greenery surrounding it.

Such a pretty house. Such a pretty garden.

Here, there are no hopes, there are no dreams, there is no dread, no more expectation, no micromanaging boss, no manipulative girlfriend, no self-persecution or self-deprecation.

Here, there are no alarms, and no more surprises.

Just the calm and simple life that you and Gaeul have dreamed of. Even if it lasts for only a second, even if you can only cherish it for a few more moments, up until your eyes start to flutter and your consciousness fades to black, you finally, for the first time in decades, feel it.

You feel happy. You feel oh so fucking happy. With her.

And as your skull cracks against her tombstone, your last thought is a clear one.

It’s so silent here, Gaeul. I understand you now.

It’s so fucking silent.

==

ᅠᅠᅠ 𝗢𝗡𝗘. ᅠᅠ ୨୧ ᅠᅠ KIM GAEUL ❥

୨୧ GAEUL loves to have you close to her during practice, pulling your body next to hears without thinking twice before burying her face on your neck, mumbling a soft, “mmh... your scent is so good.” until yujin forces her to focus on the actual practice and not how sweet you had gotten ever since she clinged to you.

ᅠᅠᅠ 𝗧𝗪𝗢. ᅠᅠ ୨୧ ᅠᅠ AHN YUJIN ❥

୨୧ YUJIN is glued to you all the damn time. it's like the girl doesn't know anything about boundaries or personal space because unless you have a good excuse to not be cuddling her, you will be—cutely—get kidnapped by your own leader and pack alpha. not that you mind of course, after all, yujin is quite the excited puppy when it comes to her omega.

ᅠᅠᅠ 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘. ᅠᅠ ୨୧ ᅠᅠ NAOI REI ❥

୨୧ REI can get really needy when it's you we're talking about. she wouldn't ever growl at her own members obviously, but everyone can see the pout on her face when she wants to scent you and you're cuddling someone else. in the end, everyone would just tease rei, but as long as she got to scent you how much she wanted, she didn't mind.

ᅠᅠᅠ 𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥. ᅠᅠ ୨୧ ᅠᅠ JANG WONYOUNG ❥

୨୧ WONYOUNG is such a tease. her delicate image is like a free pass to do whatever she wants with you without anyone but the members be aware of it. like the few times wony had pulled you to her side, rubbing her wrist on your neck with a little grin while trying not to chuckle right before a performance. “just a good luck scenting, baby.”

ᅠᅠᅠ 𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘. ᅠᅠ ୨୧ ᅠᅠ KIM JIWON ❥

୨୧ LIZ always gets so needy whenever she's around you. the fans didn't know about the idols subgenders, and everyone swore that liz was an omega just from the way she acted around you while on camera. off camera she managed to be better worse. she wouldn't say it out loud—too shy for that—but you knew just from her expression when she wanted to cling and scent you all over.

ᅠᅠᅠ 𝗦𝗜𝗫. ᅠᅠ ୨୧ ᅠᅠ LEE HYUNSEO ❥

୨୧ LEESEO, being the youngest of the group and the last one to present as an alpha, was still shy when it came to scenting you—it mostly came from the fear of doing something wrong to the group's omega and making you uncomfortable. she did prefer to cuddle you right before sleeping, nuzzling her cheek right on your neck's scent gland, a soft smile on her face as you got more and more relaxed.

❥ 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ⓘ @cherishyunah

ᅠ 𝒻rom 𝒜uthor ♡ the ive hcs are finally here!! i really need to make my other groups masterlists

She's your best friend, and she has always had your back. When you were down, she would always pull you back up. When you were lost, she would always find you. Gaeul has always been there for you no matter what, and you always knew you could rely on her. You trust Gaeul implicitly, and she does you.

There's this other side to Gaeul too, see, she looks ever so innocent. The way her voice always carries with excitement, it's always so full of life and wonder. Innocence is always an assumption people have of Gaeul. It's completely, and utterly incorrect, but people tend to assume it nonetheless.

Gaeul called you up as she usually does, and yes, you were busy, but not even an hour later you found yourself at a cafe sitting across from her. It was important, or so she said.

"Look at this message. He definitely wants to bone me, right?" Just like that, you had your regular reminder that all those assumptions about Gaeul are wrong.

"I don't know, he just said he wants to get drinks," you answered, albeit in the least convincing tone in your arsenal. Of course, he wanted to bone her.

"Exactly, drinking leads to being drunk and being drunk leads to boning."

"I've gotten drunk around you loads of times and we never ended up in bed together."

Gaeul squinted at you disapprovingly. "Well, we almost—"

"We don't talk about that, remember. Anyway, what's the problem, isn't this basically your dream Friday night? Boy meets girl, boy and girl get drunk, boy takes girl home, boy and girl fuck until they fall asleep," you told her, tilting your iced coffee in her direction as a gesture of encouragement.

"So you do think he's gonna bone me?" Gaeul asked, leaning back on her seat as she chewed on her bottom lip, no longer sure what to think of this text.

"Okay, maybe, but what's the problem?"

"He seems a bit clingy. He's all 'It would be cool if we could get dinner before' or 'I'd love it if we could go watch that new film that's out'," she groaned. "What am I, his girlfriend?"

Some psychiatrists would probably diagnose this as something born out of attachment issues or maybe some insecurity. Whatever, why bother with the analysis? She just hates relationships. 

She's young and having fun—a lot of fun. Sex, and plenty of it. Men and women in equal supply. Either way, relationships aren't on her agenda.

That's not what this story is, anyway. This story is not about Gaeul, not really. Her raunchy nights with strangers are important, but for you, it's more about the morning after.

"So cut it off with him, then. Give him some fake excuse and ghost him before you have another person falling for you."

She slammed her head onto the wooden table of the cafe. "Easier said than done. I mean he's funny. And he's pretty cute." She peered at you, an evil grin now curling her lips, "And I still want to bang him."

"Gaeul, we both know how this ends, you're going to see him tonight and you're ending the night on your back."

"Counter argument: maybe I'm on top."

"Alright, sure, but why am I here? You're only going to call me right after anyway."

"Well..." Gaeul said, leaning closer. "He has this friend and—"

"No, I'm good," you told her and she reeled back from your instant rejection, her eyes wide as if you'd shot her dead.

"Ugh, you're no fun." She shrugged, unfazed, as her hands flew across her phone's screen.

"You know where I get my fun."

"I'll call you after, don't worry," Gaeul said with a slight curve in the corner of her mouth, and that was the promise you held her to.

The promise she was right now upholding. Your phone is ringing with a call from Gaeul and it's the perfect way to start your morning. You smile, content that your best friend has kept to her promise.

"So? How'd it go, was he as big as you hoped?" You ask as you roll over onto your side and prop yourself on one elbow, the smooth fabric of your silken sheets beneath you.

"Big enough," she says followed by a satisfied hum, and you can just imagine that Gaeul must have the kind of stupid, satisfied smile that reaches her ears right now, "The things I let people do to me."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at that last part. "Come on, Gaeul, are you going to keep talking vague? The suspense is killing me." Your lips spread into a teasing grin that you're pretty sure Gaeul can hear through the call. You do very much appreciate her elaborate storytelling.

"Alright fine," she sighs, and the satisfaction is still there, if the subtle laugh she gives is any indication. "The drinks were good and went down easy. There was the small talk and the questions. So, I told him, he could ask any question as long as I got to ask any question I wanted afterwards. We were curious enough about each other and eager enough. We agreed.

"He started with these boring ones, 'What made you dye your hair black', 'Do you prefer salty or sweet foods', and all that other shit. But then I asked him a question that made his eyes pop."

"What was it?" You ask. Gaeul pauses, but the anticipation is a welcome feeling. Her playful silence lets the anticipation rise in you.

"I asked him, 'My face or my ass'?" You both laugh. That was so typical of Gaeul. Typical, but ever so effective.

"And what did he pick?"

"My face, though I don't think he understood I was asking him where he would prefer to cum. His face was so innocent when he said it. I wanted to give him a pat on the head for such a good answer," she explains in an exaggerated cutesy voice.

"He was all the usual, 'Oh you're so pretty' and 'Oh you're so adorable'. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I'm not saying he wasn't right because I do look really pretty," Gaeul quipped, to which you smiled, and she continued, "It went on for a while, he started asking some... hotter things. About how and when I touch myself."

"Usual guy stuff, sure," you joke, and you take delight in how she snorts a little giggle.

"Sure, well, next came his inevitable, 'Want to head back to mine?' Of course, I said 'Yes'. Then he said he would call us a cab, which, thank god, because it's much harder to do hand stuff on a bus compared to a cab."

"But not impossible," you interjected, remembering how she once described being felt up by someone in a packed train car. The way she grinned as she recounted it made her quite the bad girl.

"Anyway, we get in the cab and he just can't keep his hands off me. All over my tits and shit," she lets out a dark chuckle before her voice falls deeper, lower, sensual, and with the emphasis of a dangerous edge, "Don't know if the driver appreciated it but I sure as fuck did."

"Tell me more," you say, putting Gaeul on loudspeaker and placing the phone on the pillow by your head. You lay flat on your back and stretch your muscles. The joints of your toes curl into the sheets and push them down into the mattress as you arc your spine, and the deep inhale you take through your open mouth is soon followed by a relaxed exhale.

"He just slipped his hand up my shirt while she kissed my neck," Gaeul continues, bringing the memory to life with her words. She recounts in precise and deliberate detail how her nipples went hard the instant she was touched, the electricity sparking inside of her as he pinched at them with thumb and forefinger.

There's a rustling from the other side of the call before she continues her story, "We get in his place, he gets the door locked behind him, and the first thing I feel is his hot breath against my ear. It was warm and it tickled just a little bit. Then he whispered in a low voice that I can tell he thought was seductive."

"What did he say?" You ask, eagerly.

"'Fuck, I've never been this horny with someone so quick before'," Gaeul says and pauses. You both share a small laugh before she goes on, "Honestly, I did think it was kinda sexy at the moment, you know? Then he pulls off my shirt. Doesn't even unbutton it, just over my head with all the buttons. Guess the horniness was getting to him."

"Can't blame him." you run your hand up your own torso, fingertips barely brushing over the smooth, warm skin.

"And fuck, I was horny too. I was hungry. I turned and pinned him to his door, you should have seen the shock on his face, and I planted a kiss right on his lips. He wasn't that great. Wasn't really my type of kisser, actually. Too stiff, his lips were too dry, but still a kiss. I guess," Gaeul gives every little detail about him; from how his height stood a whole head taller than her, to how his eyes shone in the dark with a hint of anticipation. "I wasn't there for the kissing, so it was fine, and that's when his hands grabbed my ass. He was so rough, you should have heard the smack his palm made as it landed."

You hum in approval and bring a hand between your legs. In your mind's eye, you see her ass being spanked and groped, and you feel yourself growing more aroused. "Go on."

"Rough hands," Gaeul breathes into the phone. "I fucking love it."

"Yeah..." You sigh grab hold of your thighs and stretch out the tension.

"I could feel it, how hard he was, poking through his trousers and into my stomach."

"You loved feeling how hard you got him, didn't you?"

"Fuck yeah," her voice, dripping in lust and sex, was deep and steady like it always was when she gets like this. "So I dropped to my knees, practically ripped open his belt buckle and pulled down his zipper. And those pants fell to his ankles just like that, and then came the thing I was actually there for."

"Let's hear it," you urged.

"Like I said, good size, that's for sure, I've seen way worse. No way near the biggest dick that I've taken though. Anyway, I start stroking him with one hand," Gaeul lets out a gasp. You're not quite sure if it's for the benefit of her storytelling, but her sounds have always driven you crazy. "And then with my other, I've got his balls cupped and he's fucking loving it.

"I could tell, his cock was getting so big and so hot. It throbbed so much in my hands, so much so I could feel the blood pumping through him. And my hands were moving faster, my lips, teasing his tip, kissing, nibbling, even licking. I loved every fucking second because his dick tasted so good. After all, I could feel how worked up he was. So, I took him whole, you should have heard him moan, it was the cutest groan,"

Gaeul then breathes out heavily into the microphone, and her breath hitches in her throat and comes out short and sharp. You close your eyes and try and imagine the scene, and Gaeul must be reliving it too as you listen to her soft, sharp, wet breathing over the line. You tease yourself and plead with her, "Don't stop."

"And I'm looking up at him, through my lashes, and his eyes are almost pleading like he was trying so hard to hold his cum. Like he's trying to impress me, prove to me how much stamina he has. He's letting little moans and grunts out from his cute little lips, he's gripping the door handle so tight his fingers were white, and his knees are trembling. He's about to cum in my mouth, and my pussy is aching for him," she continues and lets her sentence trail off into a whining moan as she imagines his dick twitching inside her mouth.

"So quickly?" You ask, pushing your underwear down to your knees.

"I'm just that good, babe. The second my mouth met the shaft of his cock he was practically ready to burst. My tongue was dancing over the head, and I could taste the precum," Gaeul recalls. Her voice sizzles in your ears, and it is more like a deep purr, and it sends thrills down your body. A soft exhale escapes your mouth, and you're imagining her tongue caressing a hard dick. "And I'm only sucking harder now, stroking him faster. My left hand gripping onto him tight and tugging away. My right cradling those balls of his."

"All to make him cum," you utter in an aroused voice that you tried to hide but couldn't.

"Shit babe, it worked. I didn't even have time to prepare for him," she recounts. "He bucks his hips into my mouth. Barely has a chance to grab my head, he just blows so soon. All his cum was hot, and he was flooding my mouth."

"Shit..." You moan softly as you visualise a young man bucking his hips and releasing into Gaeul's mouth.

"Did I just go over to his to swallow his cum?" She asks and gives a laugh.

"I hope not."

"You wanna know what's funny?"

"Tell me," you plead to her.

"He came so quick that he went bright red, embarrassed, stuttering like a schoolboy that got caught smoking by the principal. All the courage he built up earlier in the taxi ride was completely gone. I couldn't help but laugh, mouth full of his cum, laughing at him. But I'm not going to lie. As he deflated so fast after he blew, all that bravado disappeared."

You let out a soft, something, barely a laugh, hesitating to touch as Gaeul grinds the story to a halt.

"Not funny?" she asks.

"Just, wish you'd continue, kinda in the middle of something here."

"Sorry, okay, where was I," Gaeul trails her words. "So I swallowed every drop, wiped at my chin where I've spilt a little and the guy still looks like he's going to die. I wanted him to suffer in the embarrassment a little, I wasn't going to tell him 'It's okay', so I got up and pulled him across his apartment. The guy nearly fell over his trousers since they were still on his ankles until he kicked them off.

"So the guy is a bit of a clean freak, by the way, the apartment was spotless. Somehow, I'm leading him to his own bed, don't know where the fuck I'm going but I find it and push him onto it. At this point, the guy's half-naked, sprawled, with his hand over his dick."

"All shy after your pretty lips have gotten him off, huh?"

"Right." Gaeul laughs, "So I stand at the edge of his bed, kick off my sneakers then pull down my jeans and drop them beside him. Then, he's staring at me and I ask him, 'Like the view?'"

"Stupid question, you're smoking," you interject with a smirk on your lips.

"The guy says, and I quote, 'Holy cow.' Who the fuck says 'holy cow'? Holy cow, babe, just holy cow," Gaeul starts laughing something manic, a cackle which is matched with a soft sigh, "Then, I just kinda laughed, like really, really laughed. It's all absurd, you get what I mean?"

"Oh god no he didn't?" You asked though the amusement was already creeping through.

"Right? What an idiot. Well, he was turning redder and redder as I was dying of laughter. It's about this time I realised I was so horny I had seduced pretty much the biggest loser in the city. Anyway, I had to shut him up, so I climbed onto the bed, and then onto his face. Dropped myself onto his stupid mouth. And then..."

"Then?" you prod her on.

"His lips and his tongue..." She makes a small moan, pleased, deep and sexy, and the sound is so hot. "Hungry boy. He starts lapping at my pussy like he was starved. He's all groaning and humming, and the vibration. That feels fucking great."

"Oh fuck..." You let a tiny sigh, one that you meant to keep to yourself, escape your lips. Gaeul keeps talking and in your mind, you're there with her—her voice fills your mind and draws an image. She tells you how she fucks his mouth, your imagination takes over.

"His tongue dances on me, licking over my lips, my clit, his lips were smacking and sucking on my most sensitive parts. He was so... energetic," Gaeul tells you. Your eyes closed, you can only imagine, in full detail, every stroke and flicker of his tongue as she described it. "Worshiping my pussy like it's the best thing in the world. So when his hands are grabbing hold of my ass and bringing my cunt to him even harder... Shit," Gaeul breaks from the story and swears.

You can't hold back anymore, touching yourself to the thought.

"He wanted this so bad. His hands were clamping hard onto me. His mouth sucking on me like a fucking vacuum. His tongue was all over the place. Everywhere it touches is like a jolt of electricity going through me. It's sending such great signals up my spine, right to my brain." Gaeul lets out a full, deep moan. One that is as tantalising as her words. It's followed by the sound of rustling. "I start just grinding down into his stupid fucking face."

You'd love nothing else in the world right now than to have Gaeul ride your face. "I can't get over how fucking delicious you would look like," you tease, "With that dumb guy, pinned under you,"

"I was moaning like crazy. If the neighbours were asleep, well, not anymore," Gaeul describes.

"Fuck," you respond as you find rhythm. You lose track of everything else, picturing Gaeul riding his stupid face until she cums.

Gaeul moans again, louder now, and with a husky, raspiness to her tone that you have memorised.

"There is no shame left in me, my hips moving into him with a need, a need for release," Gaeul chokes, then resumes with a pace of her own, "I can feel his fingers digging deeper and deeper into my flesh, and he was rocking my cunt even harder into his hungry mouth. His tongue, working so good. So, good...

"Just remembering how it felt... I'm gonna..." Gaeul moans again, throaty and harsh, and you picture it all in your head. She is sitting up in bed, legs wide apart, and fingers buried deep inside of her pussy. Moaning into her phone, moaning to you.

It's an amazing fucking image.

"I can feel my entire body starting to go warm, my thighs clamping onto the poor guy's skull. Oh my fucking god, his tongue, I love it, his tongue," Gaeul makes a long, low and whimpering moan, like the air was squeezed out of her lungs. "It feels like I've lost myself in time, completely. I'm going faster, my hips rolling into him faster and faster, desperate for relief. Then all of a sudden, it's all hitting at once, the spark just lights and I am exploding like a supernova, my core just bursting, and my pussy flooding his fucking stupid mouth."

You're chasing her high. "Shit," you find yourself whispering, softly at first and getting louder as you feel yourself nearing that beautiful feeling of sweet relief.

"I'm cumming so hard, his tongue is still going, still drawing out every last bit of my climax as he keeps feeding on me. The sheer fucking madness of the sensation... fuck, imagine that."

"Yeah..." You groan. "I am."

"You're so filthy," her words drip of sultry sex and that tease in her voice sends a tremor down to the base of your spine, setting your insides ablaze as the blood in your veins rises, the throbbing inside you reaching an incomparable peak. "Are you getting off to my story? I fucking dare you."

You close your eyes and breathe in the thought of her. Every inch of her lustful body, "I am."

"Fucking perv," she growls, her breathing sharp and shaky, erratic. A sound that resonates within your bones, and shakes you to the core. "Bet you want your lips wrapped around my clit. Let you suck the sweet nectar from my tight, hot pussy," she breathes through her teeth in a hissing sound as she falls over that edge. You can feel her shiver and quake. You hear every little shuddering whimper, every moan that escapes her soft, pretty little lips, and they ignite every sense in your body as if you can feel the electricity coursing through every nerve in her body, just as it is inside you.

You cum for her. You always cum for her, just like this. Your toes curl and your back arches. You twist, writhing under the feeling, your skin blazing as sweat rolls over it, your whole world coming to a beautiful standstill. You can't help but cry out her name in your bed.

"Nothing else makes me cum like this," you mumble, breathless and ragged as you finish, then add "You slut."

"How does it make you feel, hearing my dirty sex stories first thing in the morning?" Gaeul purrs. There is a sinister satisfaction in her tone, and that coy smile curling the corner of her mouth is definitely there in her voice. You can imagine it clear as day because it has been etched into your brain, that stupid, irresistible grin of hers.

"More," you beg, the aftermath of your orgasm, leaving the inside of your body searing hot, a sensation that you want desperately more of.

Tucked in a corner, half-hidden behind a pile of dusty VHS tapes, was a sleek, unmarked gaming console. Its design was a paradox—retro curves like an old Nintendo, but its surface gleamed with a futuristic sheen, catching the dim shop light in a way that felt… alive. A small screen on the front glowed faintly, gold letters spelling out Aetherion. No brand logo, no manual, just a single controller with buttons that shimmered like opals. Y/N’s pulse quickened. This wasn’t just a console. This was a mystery.

“Yo, how much for this?” he called to the shopkeeper, a grizzled man who barely looked up from his crossword.

“Twenty bucks,” the man grunted. “No returns. Thing’s probably busted.”

Y/N didn’t care. His gamer instincts screamed treasure, and twenty bucks was pocket change for a potential gem. He handed over the cash, cradled the console like a newborn, and hustled back to his dorm, the autumn air crisp against his cheeks. His room was a chaotic shrine to gaming—posters of Zelda and Final Fantasy plastered on the walls, a tangle of controller cords spilling from his desk, and a mini fridge humming softly in the corner. He set the console on his desk beside his digital clock that displayed 5:55 P.M, plugged it into his ancient TV, and held his breath as he pressed the power button.

The screen flared to life, not with the usual static flicker of old tech, but with a burst of color and sound that made Y/N’s heart skip. A cinematic unfolded: a sweeping vista of a fantasy world—lush forests, jagged mountains, a castle gleaming under a sky with two moons. A deep, resonant voice narrated, “In the realm of Aetherion, the tyrannical Sorcerer Valthor has imprisoned Princess Seraphine, plunging the land into shadow. Only a true-hearted warrior can restore light to the realm.” The words Start Game pulsed on the screen, and Y/N’s fingers itched to dive in. But something felt off. The console hummed, a low vibration that seemed to pulse through his bones, and the air in the room grew heavy, like a storm was brewing.

He gripped the controller, its buttons warm under his thumbs, and selected Start. The screen flashed blinding white, and a jolt—like static electricity, but sharper—shot through him. His vision blurred, the dorm spinning away, and then… nothing.

-

Y/N blinked, his head throbbing like he’d just face-planted off his bed. But he wasn’t in his bed. He wasn’t even in his dorm. He was sprawled on a carpet of moss, surrounded by towering trees that swayed in a gentle breeze. The air smelled of pine and earth, so vivid it made his nose tingle. Above, a sky stretched endlessly, twin moons casting a silvery glow over a landscape that looked like a painting—except it was real. Too real. His hands brushed against his clothes, no longer his hoodie and jeans but a rough-spun tunic and leather boots. A rusty sword hung at his hip, its weight unfamiliar but grounding.

“What the hell?” he muttered, scrambling to his feet. His voice echoed slightly, swallowed by the rustle of leaves and the distant chirp of birds. This wasn’t a dream. Dreams didn’t feel this… tangible. He pinched his arm—ow—and then noticed a faint shimmer in the air. A holographic panel materialized, like something out of a sci-fi movie, displaying:

ꜱᴛᴀᴛꜱ: ʏ/ɴ, ʟᴇᴠᴇʟ 1 ᴡᴀʀʀɪᴏʀ. ʜᴘ: 100/100. 

Qᴜᴇꜱᴛ: ʀᴇꜱᴄᴜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ꜱᴇʀᴀᴘʜɪɴᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴠᴀʟᴛʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴛᴏᴡᴇʀ.

The words blinked insistently, and Y/N’s stomach did a flip. He wasn’t just playing Aetherion. He was in it.

His gamer brain kicked into gear, pushing past the panic. Okay, RPG rules: explore, level up, follow the quest. He took a tentative step, the forest floor crunching under his boots, and marveled at the details—the way sunlight dappled through the canopy, the faint buzz of insects, the glint of a treasure chest half-hidden behind a tree. He pried it open, finding a measly 

Health Potion (Restores 20 HP), but the thrill of discovery made him grin. This was next-level immersion, like VR on steroids. But the question gnawed at him: How am I here?

He didn’t have time to dwell. A rustle in the bushes made him freeze, his hand fumbling for the sword. A slime—classic RPG fodder—oozed into view, its gelatinous body pulsing with faint green light. Y/N’s first swing was pathetic, the blade bouncing off like he’d hit a rubber ball, but he dodged its sluggish lunge and hacked again, adrenaline pumping. The slime burst into pixels, dropping a single Aether Shard that glittered like a tiny star. “Nice,” he panted, pocketing the shard. If this was the game, he could handle it.

The quest marker on his HUD pointed north, toward a clearing where stone pillars jutted from the earth like broken teeth. As he approached, the air grew heavy again, charged with something ancient and electric. At the center of the clearing stood a ruined shrine, its altar overgrown with vines that pulsed with faint runes. And there, chained to the altar by shimmering magical bonds, was a girl.

Y/N’s breath caught. She was stunning, her short, dark hair framing a face that was both fierce and delicate, her eyes sparkling with defiance despite her predicament. Her gown was regal, all flowing silk and embroidered stars, but it was her presence that hit him like a critical hit. He knew that face. He’d seen it on posters, on his phone screen during IVE’s latest comeback. Gaeul.

-

She noticed him, her head snapping up, and for a moment, they just stared—him frozen, her assessing. Then she spoke, her voice clear and sharp, cutting through the silence. “You’re not one of Valthor’s goons. Are you… a player?”

Y/N’s mouth went dry. He nodded, then cleared his throat, trying to sound less like a starstruck fanboy. “Uh, yeah. I’m Y/N. I… got sucked into this game, I think. You’re—wait, you’re Gaeul?”

Her lips twitched, a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Bingo. Though here, I’m Princess Seraphine, or whatever this stupid game calls me.” She tugged at the magical chains, which sparked but didn’t budge. “Long story short, I was messing around with some sketchy game file on my laptop, and next thing I know, I’m trapped in this pixelated nightmare. You gonna help me out, or just stand there gawking?”

Y/N flushed, his inner IVE fan screaming, but he forced himself to focus. She was real—well, as real as he was in this bizarre world—and she needed him. He stepped closer, inspecting the runes. They glowed brighter, almost mocking him, and his sword did nothing but clang uselessly against them. “These are magical,” he said, more to himself than her. “I don’t have any spells or—”

“Great, a noob,” Gaeul teased, but her tone was playful, not cruel. She leaned forward as much as the chains allowed, her eyes scanning him. “Check your inventory. Games like this always give you something to start with. Hurry up, hero, my arms are killing me.”

Y/N fumbled with the HUD, his fingers clumsy in the air, and found the Aether Shard from the slime. On a hunch, he held it near the runes. The shard pulsed, and the chains flickered, then dissolved in a burst of light. Gaeul stumbled forward, rubbing her wrists, and flashed him a grin that made his heart do a backflip. “Not bad for a level one warrior,” she said, brushing dirt off her gown. “Stick with me, Y/N. We’re getting out of this game, and I’m not leaving without a fight.”

The shrine’s vines seemed to shiver, as if the game itself was watching. Y/N gripped his sword, his nerves buzzing with a mix of fear and excitement. Gaeul stood beside him, her presence electric, her smile a spark in the dim clearing. He was just a guy, a gamer with no clue how he’d ended up here. But with Gaeul—Princess Seraphine, or whatever she was—by his side, he felt like he could take on anything. Even a sorcerer. Even a world that felt too real to be just a game.

“Lead the way, Your Highness,” he said, half-joking, and her laugh—bright, genuine—echoed through the forest, a sound that promised adventure, danger, and maybe something more.

-

The forest of Aetherion stretched endlessly before Y/N and Gaeul, its canopy a mosaic of emerald leaves that filtered the twin moons’ silvery light. The air was cool, laced with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers, and every step crunched against twigs or rustled through grass that felt too real for a game. Y/N’s rusty sword bounced against his hip, its weight a constant reminder of his new reality. Beside him, Gaeul moved with a grace that belied her princess gown, the hem catching on roots but never slowing her down. Her eyes, sharp and curious, darted to every shadow, as if she expected the game to throw a curveball at any moment.

“So, level one warrior,” she said, her voice teasing as she glanced at him, “got a plan, or are we just wandering until Valthor sends his welcome committee?”

Y/N grinned, his nerves easing at her playful tone. “Plan’s simple: follow the quest marker, bash some monsters, save the princess. Classic RPG stuff.” He tapped the air, summoning the holographic HUD. The quest log glowed: 

ʀᴇꜱᴄᴜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ꜱᴇʀᴀᴘʜɪɴᴇ. 

ɴᴇxᴛ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ: ꜱᴇᴇᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀʏꜱᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀᴠᴇʀɴꜱ.

A golden arrow pointed west, through a misty ravine up ahead.

Gaeul snorted, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Save the princess, huh? Newsflash, Y/N, this princess can handle herself. You’re just here for moral support.” But her smile was warm, and the way she bumped his shoulder—light, almost accidental—sent a flutter through his chest. He was still wrapping his head around the fact that Gaeul, IVE’s Gaeul, was here, bantering with him like they were old friends. Or maybe more, his traitor brain whispered, before he shoved the thought away.

The ravine loomed closer, its walls jagged and shrouded in fog that swirled like liquid silver. The path narrowed, forcing them to walk single file, Y/N taking the lead with his sword drawn. The HUD pinged a warning—Enemy Detected—and his grip tightened. “Heads up,” he whispered, just as a low growl echoed from the mist.

Three shadow wolves emerged, their fur black as ink, eyes glowing like embers. They were bigger than the slime, faster, and definitely not beginner-friendly. Y/N’s gamer instincts kicked in, but his first swing was a disaster, the sword glancing off a wolf’s flank as it lunged. He stumbled back, heart pounding, and barely dodged its snapping jaws. “Okay, not cool!” he yelped.

“Focus, noob!” Gaeul called, her voice steady but urgent. She raised her hands, the runes on her gown flaring with light, and a burst of blue energy—a Frost Bolt, Y/N’s brain supplied—slammed into the wolf, slowing it. “Hit it now!”

Y/N swung again, this time connecting, and the wolf dissolved into pixels with a satisfying ding. Gaeul’s magic danced around them, freezing one wolf while Y/N tackled another, their movements chaotic but syncing up. He tanked a claw swipe—his HP dropped to 80/100, the HUD flashing red—and gritted his teeth, slashing until the last wolf burst into loot: three Aether Shards and a Wolf Pelt. 

They collapsed against a boulder, panting, their laughter bubbling up like a shared secret.

“Holy crap, we’re not half bad,” Y/N said, wiping sweat from his brow. The ravine’s mist clung to his tunic, damp and chilly, but the adrenaline high made it worth it.

Gaeul nudged him, her grin mischievous. “You’re welcome for the assist, hero. Next time, maybe don’t swing like you’re chopping firewood.” She picked up a shard, its glow reflecting in her eyes. “These are the key. Valthor’s curse runs on Aether energy. Enough shards, and we can break his hold on me—and maybe get out of here.”

Y/N nodded, pocketing the loot. The ravine’s walls were etched with faded carvings—knights, dragons, a crowned figure that looked eerily like Gaeul. The game’s lore was everywhere, woven into the world like a story begging to be unraveled. But as they pressed on, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that Aetherion was watching them, its rules bending just enough to keep them on edge.

-

The village of Elderglow appeared like a mirage, its thatched roofs and cobblestone streets glowing under lanterns that bobbed like fireflies. The ravine had spit them out into a bustling hub, alive with NPCs bartering at market stalls, bards strumming lutes, and children chasing a pixelated cat through the square. Y/N’s HUD updated—Objective: Gather Information—and he marveled at the details: the smell of fresh bread from a bakery, the clink of coins, the way Gaeul’s gown caught the light as she spun to take it all in.

“This place is unreal,” she said, her voice soft with wonder. “If I wasn’t trapped, I’d almost enjoy it.” She caught Y/N staring and raised an eyebrow. “What? Got something on my face?”

“N-no, just… you look like you belong here,” he stammered, then cringed at how cheesy it sounded. “I mean, like, you’re rocking the princess vibe.”

Gaeul laughed, a bright, musical sound that made his cheeks burn. “Smooth, Y/N. Come on, let’s upgrade that trash sword of yours.” She grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward a blacksmith’s forge where a burly NPC hammered glowing metal. Her touch was warm, fleeting, but it left his heart racing.

At the forge, Gaeul worked her charm, her smile disarming the blacksmith as she bartered for a  Steel Longsword (+10 Attack). Y/N traded the Wolf Pelt and a few shards, and the new blade felt solid, balanced, like an extension of himself. They hit the market next, stocking up on Health Potions and a Mana Crystal for Gaeul’s spells. Every interaction felt like a mini-quest, the village pulsing with life—vendors haggling, a leaderboard in the square showing “player” names (all NPCs, Y/N noted with a shiver), and a fountain where water sparkled like liquid starlight.

They ended up at a tavern, its wooden beams creaking under the weight of raucous laughter. Y/N ordered virtual cider—sweet, fizzy, and surprisingly refreshing—and they claimed a corner table, the glow of a hearth warming their faces. Gaeul sipped her drink, her expression softening. “This is the first time I’ve felt… normal since I got stuck here,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Back in the real world, I’m always ‘Gaeul from IVE,’ you know? Schedules, stages, smiling for cameras. But here…” She trailed off, tracing the rim of her glass.

Y/N leaned forward, his curiosity outweighing his shyness. “Here, you’re a badass princess who shoots ice bolts and saves my butt from wolves.”

She chuckled, but her eyes were distant. “Maybe. But I’m scared, Y/N. What if we can’t get out? What if I’m just… code now?” Her fingers tightened around the glass, and the vulnerability in her voice hit him like a critical hit.

“You’re not code,” he said firmly, surprising himself with his conviction. “You’re Gaeul. And I’m not leaving you here. We’re beating this game together, okay?” He held her gaze, hoping she saw the promise in his eyes.

Her smile returned, small but genuine. “You’re not as noob as you look, Y/N.” She clinked her glass against his, the sound a quiet vow in the noisy tavern.

-

The seer’s hut sat at the village’s edge, a ramshackle structure draped in vines and glowing with an eerie light. The NPC inside was ancient, her eyes milky but piercing, her voice like wind through dry leaves. “The prophecy speaks of a true-hearted warrior and the princess,” she intoned, her gnarled hands tracing a star chart that shimmered in the air. “Together, you may defeat Valthor, but only by combining your strengths. Seek the Heart of Aether in the Crystal Caverns. The path is perilous, but the stars guide you.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted. True-hearted warrior? He was just a guy who liked Pokémon and instant ramen. But Gaeul’s expression was fierce, her jaw set. “Prophecy or not, we’re doing this our way,” she said, her voice cutting through the hut’s heavy air. “No offense, lady, but I’m not some damsel waiting for a hero. We’re a team.”

The seer’s lips curled, almost amused. She handed them a Map of the Caverns, its parchment pulsing with golden lines. “Then prove the stars wrong, child. Your hearts will light the way.”

Outside, the village hummed with evening life, lanterns casting long shadows. Y/N clutched the map, its weight grounding him. Gaeul stood close, her shoulder brushing his as they studied the path ahead. “Crystal Caverns, huh?” she said, her tone light but her eyes serious. “Sounds like a dungeon crawl. You ready, warrior?”

He met her gaze, his nerves buzzing but his resolve solid. “Born ready. Let’s kick Valthor’s butt and get you home.” He held out his fist, and she bumped it with hers, her grin infectious. The twin moons hung above, their light a silent cheer for the journey ahead.

But as they left Elderglow, the map glowing in Y/N’s hands, he couldn’t shake the seer’s words. Your hearts will light the way. His heart was racing, sure, but not just from the quest. Gaeul’s laugh, her trust, the way she made this crazy world feel like an adventure worth fighting for—it was all starting to feel like more than a game. And that, he realized, was the most dangerous quest of all.

-

The Crystal Caverns shimmered like a galaxy trapped in stone, their walls a dazzling array of prismatic shards that refracted the twin moons’ light into a cascade of colors. Y/N’s boots crunched against the translucent floor, each step sending faint ripples of light outward, as if the cave itself were alive. The air was sharp, laced with a metallic tang that prickled his lungs, and the faint hum of the caverns pulsed like a distant heartbeat. His Steel Longsword caught the glow, its edge a silver promise, but it was Gaeul’s steady presence—her gown trailing like starlight, her eyes scanning every shadow—that kept his heart from racing out of his chest. 

The Map of the Caverns, tucked in his inventory, glowed faintly, its golden lines urging them deeper into the maze. “Feels like we’re walking into a trap montage,” Gaeul said, her voice low but laced with her usual spark. She brushed a crystal stalactite, its chime echoing softly. “Bet you’re regretting that ‘born ready’ line from the village, huh, warrior?”

Y/N grinned, his nerves easing at her teasing. “Nah, I’m good. Just don’t cry when I outscore you in loot.” He tapped the air, the HUD flickering to life with their quest: Claim the Heart of Aether. The golden arrow pointed down a narrow path, where mist swirled like ghosts. Their banter was a shield against the caverns’ eerie weight, but Y/N couldn’t ignore the runes etched into the walls—faint, glowing symbols of knights and dragons, hinting at a history older than Aetherion’s code.

Trouble found them fast. A pressure plate clicked under Y/N’s boot, and he barely registered the whir of gears before spikes shot from the floor, their tips glinting like daggers. Instinct took over—he dove, grabbing Gaeul’s waist and pulling her down with him. They hit the ground in a tangle, her breath warm against his cheek, her eyes wide but glinting with adrenaline. “Okay, hero,” she gasped, shoving him off with a playful scowl, “watch where you step, or I’m billing you for this gown.”

“S-sorry!” Y/N stammered, his face hotter than a Fire Spell. He scrambled up, offering her a hand, and her fingers lingered in his, soft but firm, sending a jolt through him. The caverns didn’t let them linger—a crystal golem lumbered from an alcove, its faceless head glowing with inner light. Y/N swung, his sword sparking against its hide, while Gaeul’s Frost Bolt froze its arm, giving him an opening. His HP dipped to 80/100 from a glancing blow, but her Healing Touch—a warm pulse of light—mended the ache, her hand brushing his arm. “Stay alive, noob,” she muttered, but her smile was softer than her words.

The path twisted deeper, bridges of crystal arching over chasms that swallowed light. Every trap, every golem, drew them closer—Gaeul’s magic lighting the way, Y/N’s blade clearing the path. The caverns’ pulse grew louder, the runes brighter, as if Aetherion was testing their resolve, daring them to reach its heart.

-

The cavern’s heart was a cathedral of light, a vast chamber where crystals soared like spires, their reflections dancing in a haze of color. At its center, a pedestal held the Heart of Aether, a glowing orb that pulsed with a rhythm that matched the cave’s hum, its light both inviting and ominous. Coiled around it was a crystal dragon, its scales like molten glass, its eyes twin flames that seemed to see through them. Y/N’s HUD flashed—Boss: Crystal Guardian—and his throat tightened. This wasn’t just a fight. This was judgment.

The dragon didn’t strike. Its voice echoed in their minds, deep and resonant, like a storm trapped in stone. Only those bound by trust may claim the Heart. Answer, or perish. Its first riddle hit Y/N like a blade. What do you fear most, warrior? The air grew heavy, the chamber’s light dimming as if the game itself demanded truth.

Y/N’s grip on his sword faltered, his heart pounding. He glanced at Gaeul, her eyes steady but searching, and the words spilled out, raw and unguarded. “Failing you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not being enough to get you out of here.” The confession hung between them, heavy and real, and the dragon’s form flickered, its scales losing their sheen, as if his honesty had chipped away at its power.

Gaeul’s turn came next. And you, princess? The question seemed to pierce her, her confidence wavering as she twisted the hem of her gown. She looked at Y/N, her eyes glistening, and her voice trembled. “Losing myself,” she said. “Becoming just… Seraphine. Not Gaeul anymore.” The vulnerability in her words made Y/N’s chest ache, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing hers, a silent promise that she was still her. The dragon flickered again, its eyes dimming, but it wasn’t done.

What binds you? The final riddle demanded they speak as one. Their eyes locked, and without hesitation, they answered together: “Trust.” The word was a spark, igniting the chamber’s light, and the dragon roared, its form solidifying as it lunged. The fight was brutal—Y/N darted in, his sword sparking against crystal scales, his HP dropping to 60/100 from a tail swipe that sent him sprawling. Gaeul’s Frost Bolts slowed the beast, her voice fierce as she shouted, “Get up, Y/N! We’re not done!” Her magic wove through the crystals, amplifying into a dazzling Aether Surge that stunned the dragon, giving Y/N the chance to climb its back and strike a glowing weak point. The beast shattered, its fragments dissolving into light, and the Heart of Aether floated toward them, warm and alive in Y/N’s hands.

-

The victory was fleeting. The Heart pulsed in Y/N’s grip, its light flooding the chamber, but the caverns trembled, a low groan echoing as cracks splintered the crystal walls. The HUD glitched—text flickering into gibberish, colors bleeding like a corrupted file. Gaeul’s eyes widened, her breath hitching. “Y/N, it’s breaking!” she cried, her voice sharp with panic as the ground bucked beneath them. Pixels sparked in the air, and for a horrifying moment, her form flickered—her gown dissolving into static, her hand in his turning translucent before snapping back.

“No!” Y/N grabbed her, pulling her close, his arms wrapping around her as the chamber shook. “You’re not disappearing, Gaeul. I’ve got you.” His voice was fierce, cutting through the chaos, and she clung to him, her fingers digging into his tunic, her breath shaky against his chest. The Heart’s warmth steadied the glitches, its pulse a lifeline, but the caverns were collapsing, shards raining like glass.

The HUD flickered, barely legible: 

ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ: ᴄᴏɴꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴠᴀʟᴛʜᴏʀ. 

The Heart was their key—Valthor’s weakness, and maybe their way out. But the glitches revealed something darker. Runes on the walls flared, showing glimpses of Aetherion’s truth: a sentient program, designed to trap players, feeding on their will. The dragon’s defeat had destabilized it, but at a cost. Gaeul’s eyes met Y/N’s, her fear tempered by the same fire that had carried them this far. “We’re ending this,” she said, her voice steady despite the trembling ground. “Together.”

Y/N nodded, his hand still in hers, the Heart’s glow a beacon in the chaos. “Together,” he echoed, his grin shaky but real. The chamber’s light flared, the caverns’ pulse fading as debris fell around them. Whatever lay ahead—Valthor, the game’s final trap—he knew one thing: Gaeul’s trust, her warmth, was worth fighting for. And he wasn’t letting go.

The wasteland stretched before Valthor’s Tower like a scar on Aetherion’s vibrant heart, its cracked earth dusted with ash and lit by a sky roiling with storm clouds. The tower itself loomed, a gothic spire of black stone that clawed at the heavens, its spires wreathed in lightning that crackled with menace. Y/N’s boots sank into the grit, the Heart of Aether pulsing warmly in his inventory, its glow a faint counterpoint to the storm’s fury. His Steel Longsword felt heavier now, as if it sensed the battle ahead, but Gaeul’s presence beside him—her gown tattered but her stride fierce—made the impossible feel within reach. 

The HUD’s quest log burned bright: 

ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ: ᴅᴇꜰᴇᴀᴛ ᴠᴀʟᴛʜᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇ.

“Last chance to back out, warrior,” Gaeul said, her voice light but her eyes sharp, scanning the tower’s arched entrance. A gust tugged at her hair, and she tucked a strand behind her ear, the gesture so ordinary it grounded Y/N in the chaos. “This place looks like it eats noobs for breakfast.”

Y/N smirked, his nerves buzzing but his resolve ironclad. “Good thing I’ve got the best co-op partner in the game.” He bumped her shoulder, a playful echo of their village days, and her laugh—bright, defiant—cut through the storm’s howl. The warmth of that sound lingered as they stepped into the tower, the air shifting to a damp chill, heavy with the scent of old stone and magic.

The ascent was a gauntlet. Spiral stairs wound upward, their edges worn smooth by unseen centuries, lit by torches that flickered with unnatural blue flame. Minions—shadowy wraiths with glowing eyes—swarmed from alcoves, and Y/N’s sword sang as he slashed through them, his HP holding steady at 80/100 thanks to Gaeul’s Frost Bolts and quick Healing Touches. A magical barrier blocked a landing, its runes pulsing red, and they pressed against it, their shoulders brushing in the cramped space. Gaeul’s fingers traced the runes, her brow furrowed, and Y/N shielded her from a wraith’s claw, his grunt of effort drowned by her triumphant shout as the barrier shattered.

“Nice one, princess,” he panted, wiping sweat from his brow. Her grin was all mischief, but the way her hand lingered on his arm—steadying, grateful—sent a flutter through him. The tower’s stained-glass windows cast eerie patterns, depicting a crowned figure falling to darkness, and Y/N’s HUD pinged with lore: Valthor, once a hero, succumbed to greed, binding Aetherion to his will. The game was telling its story, but the real one was unfolding between them—every shared glance, every brush of hands, a thread tying their fates tighter.

-

The throne room was a void, its walls swallowed by shadows that pulsed like a living thing. At its heart stood Valthor, a towering figure cloaked in darkness, his eyes twin voids that seemed to drink the light. The Heart of Aether flared in Y/N’s inventory, its pulse syncing with his racing heart, and Gaeul’s hand brushed his, a silent signal to stay sharp. The HUD flashed—Boss: Sorcerer Valthor—and the air grew thick, charged with power that made Y/N’s skin prickle.

“You dare challenge me?” Valthor’s voice was a hiss, slithering through the void. “A boy and a puppet princess, bound by fleeting trust. You are nothing.” His words targeted their doubts, and Y/N felt them—fear that he wasn’t enough, that Gaeul would be trapped forever. But her eyes met his, fierce and unwavering, and the doubts crumbled.

“Shut up, creepy,” Gaeul snapped, her Aether Surge flaring, a dazzling arc of light that lit the room. “We’re taking you down.” She squeezed Y/N’s hand, her warmth grounding him, and they charged.

The battle was chaos. Valthor’s spells—shadow bolts, chains of dark energy—tore through the air, and Y/N dove to shield Gaeul, his HP dropping to 50/100 as a bolt grazed him. Pain flared, but her Healing Touch soothed it, her voice fierce: “Stay with me, Y/N!” He struck back, his sword sparking against Valthor’s barriers, while Gaeul wove magic, her Frost Bolts slowing the sorcerer’s movements. Valthor’s taunts grew desperate, targeting their bond—“She’ll forget you, boy, in the real world”—but Y/N roared, “She’s not your puppet!” and Gaeul’s laugh, sharp and defiant, echoed his resolve.

The Heart of Aether was their edge. Y/N tossed it to Gaeul, who caught it mid-air, its light amplifying her magic into a blinding Aether Nova. The room shook, Valthor’s form flickering, and Y/N saw his chance—a weak point in the sorcerer’s chest, pulsing with stolen light. He sprinted, dodging chains, and drove his sword deep, the Heart’s energy surging through the blade. Valthor screamed, his body dissolving into pixels, and the throne room pulsed, the shadows retreating to reveal a broken man—Valthor’s true form, frail and defeated, before he vanished entirely.

Y/N collapsed to his knees, panting, his HP at a shaky 30/100. Gaeul dropped beside him, her breath ragged but her grin triumphant. “We did it,” she whispered, and before he could think, she pulled him into a hug, her arms tight around him, her warmth chasing away the void’s chill. He hugged her back, his heart pounding not from the fight but from her—her laugh, her strength, her trust. For a moment, the world was just them, and it was enough.

-

The tower trembled, its stones cracking as the Heart of Aether pulsed wildly in Gaeul’s hands. The HUD glitched, text dissolving into static, and the throne room warped—walls bending, floor rippling like water. Valthor’s defeat had broken Aetherion’s core, and the game was unraveling. Gaeul’s eyes widened, her grip on the Heart tightening. “Y/N, it’s now or never,” she said, her voice steady despite the chaos.

A portal tore open at the room’s center, a vortex of light that hummed with promise and peril. Beyond it, Y/N glimpsed his dorm—messy desk, flickering PC, the real world—but the portal flickered, unstable, as debris fell around them. Gaeul’s hand found his, her fingers lacing through his, and he felt her tremble, her fear mirroring his own. “What if it doesn’t work?” she whispered, her eyes searching his. “What if we’re stuck?”

Y/N squeezed her hand, his voice firm. “We’re not. You’re Gaeul, I’m Y/N, and we’re going home.” He pulled her close, their foreheads nearly touching, and her nod was small but fierce. The Heart flared, its light stabilizing the portal, and they ran, hand in hand, as the tower crumbled behind them. The vortex’s pull was dizzying, light blinding, and Gaeul’s grip tightened, her voice a soft, “Don’t let go.”

They leaped, the world dissolving into white. Y/N’s senses spun—weightless, then heavy, the air shifting from Aetherion’s storm to the stale warmth of his dorm/ He landed hard on his carpet, Gaeul beside him, her gown gone, replaced by jeans and a hoodie, her short hair framing a face that was unmistakably her. The console sat on his desk, dark and silent, its screen blank. The Heart was gone, Aetherion with it. He looked at the clock at his desk:

6:02 P.M

What was eternity for them, was merely a minute in the real word. Gaeul’s laugh broke the silence, shaky but real, and she punched his arm lightly. “We made it, you dork.” Her eyes sparkled, relief and something softer—something that made Y/N’s heart skip. He grinned, rubbing his arm, and for a moment, the dorm felt as vibrant as Aetherion—because she was here, real, and they’d won.

-

The dorm smelled of instant ramen and faintly of burnt popcorn, a stark contrast to Aetherion’s pine-scented forests and metallic caverns. Y/N’s desk was a mess—empty soda cans, a tangled mess of controller cords, and the now-silent console, its screen dark as if it had never pulled them into a world of magic and danger. The late afternoon sun slanted through the window, casting golden stripes across the carpet where Y/N and Gaeul sat cross-legged, a steaming pot of ramen between them. Gaeul, no longer in her princess gown but in a borrowed hoodie and jeans, twirled chopsticks with the same grace she’d wielded Frost Bolts. Her short hair framed her face, and her smile—bright, unguarded—made the dorm feel like the coziest place in the world.

“Never thought I’d miss instant noodles,” she said, slurping a mouthful with a contented hum. Her eyes sparkled as she leaned closer, nudging Y/N’s knee with hers. “You’re a terrible cook, you know. This is, like, 80% water.”

Y/N laughed, his cheeks flushing as he poked at his own bowl. “Hey, I’m a warrior, not a chef. Besides, you’re eating it, so I’m calling it a win.” Her nudge lingered, her knee still pressed against his, and the warmth of it sent his heart into a familiar flutter—one he’d felt in Aetherion, dodging spikes or hugging her after Valthor’s fall. But here, in the real world, it felt bigger, realer, like a spark that refused to fade.

They traded stories over the ramen, their voices overlapping in a giddy recount of their adventure. Y/N mimicked his clumsy first swing at the slime, earning a giggle that made Gaeul’s nose crinkle. She reenacted the dragon’s riddles, her voice dropping dramatically, and Y/N couldn’t help but stare, captivated by how her hands danced as she talked, how her laughter filled the room like music. “You were so serious back there,” she teased, leaning closer, her shoulder brushing his. “All, ‘I’m not leaving you, Gaeul.’ Total hero vibes.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his blush deepening. “I meant it, you know. Couldn’t let my favorite princess stay trapped.” The words slipped out, bolder than he’d planned, and Gaeul’s eyes softened, her teasing grin shifting to something warmer, something that made his breath catch.

“You’re sweet, Y/N,” she said, her voice quiet but sincere. She reached out, her fingers brushing his, and didn’t pull away, letting their hands rest together on the carpet. The touch was simple but electric, and Y/N’s heart raced as he laced his fingers with hers, tentative but sure. Her smile widened, and she squeezed his hand, a silent acknowledgment that this—whatever it was—was real. The dorm, with its cluttered chaos, felt like their own little world, a new adventure just beginning.

-

The sun dipped lower, painting the room in hues of orange and pink, and Gaeul’s phone buzzed on the desk, a reminder of the real world waiting outside. She sighed, checking the screen—messages from her IVE members, a schedule packed with rehearsals and interviews. “Duty calls,” she said, but her tone was reluctant, her hand still in Y/N’s as she leaned against him, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. The weight of her was warm, grounding, and Y/N’s heart thudded, torn between the thrill of her closeness and the ache of knowing she’d leave soon.

“You’re gonna be okay, right?” he asked, his voice soft, almost afraid to break the moment. “Back to being Gaeul from IVE, dazzling the world?”

She tilted her head to look at him, her eyes glinting with mischief but softened by something deeper. “Only if you’re there to cheer me on, warrior.” She poked his chest, her finger lingering, and Y/N caught her hand, holding it against his heart. Her teasing faded, replaced by a quiet intensity, and for a moment, the dorm was silent, the world narrowing to just them.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said, sitting up but keeping her hand in his. “We game together again—something less… life-threatening. Co-op, you and me, maybe some Mario Kart to see if you’re as good with a kart as you are with a sword.” Her grin was playful, but her eyes held a promise, a future beyond this moment.

Y/N’s smile mirrored hers, his nerves replaced by a quiet confidence. “Deal. But only if you let me take you out for real food first. No more watery ramen.” His boldness surprised him, but her laugh—bright, delighted—made it worth it. She leaned in, her forehead brushing his, and the closeness stole his breath, her warmth a reminder of every moment they’d shared in Aetherion.

“You’re on, Y/N,” she whispered, her voice a mix of challenge and affection. She pulled back, grabbing her phone and typing quickly, then handed it to him. “Put your number in. No escaping me now.” He did, his fingers shaky but sure, and when she saved it with a heart emoji next to his name, his grin was unstoppable. The dorm’s glow felt like Aetherion’s twin moons, a light that promised new quests—together.

-

Night had fallen, the dorm now lit by the soft blue glow of Y/N’s PC. Gaeul had left an hour ago, her IVE van whisking her back to her world of stages and spotlights, but her presence lingered—in the hoodie she’d “borrowed” from his closet, in the warmth of her hand still tingling in his. Y/N sat at his desk, the console still silent, a relic of their adventure. He powered on his PC, half-expecting it to be as ordinary as ever, but a new notification popped up—a game invite from “SeraGaeul.” The screen flashed, and a pixelated heart appeared, its glow a nod to the Heart of Aether, to everything they’d fought for.

Y/N’s heart skipped, a laugh bubbling up as he grabbed his headset. He accepted the invite, and Gaeul’s voice crackled through, bright and teasing. “Took you long enough, noob. Ready to lose at Among Us?” Her giggle was infectious, and Y/N leaned back, his dorm transforming into a portal of its own—a bridge between their worlds.

“Only if you’re ready to admit I’m the better gamer,” he shot back, his grin wide as he joined her lobby. The game loaded, but it was her voice, her laugh, that filled the room, making the ordinary extraordinary. The pixel heart lingered on his screen, a reminder of Aetherion—of wolves and dragons, of trust forged in chaos, of a bond that had crossed worlds.

As they played, bantering and scheming, Y/N’s eyes drifted to his phone, where a new message from Gaeul glowed: 

See you soon, hero. Don’t forget our deal ❤