Overworked & Overwanted - After Hours
The late drive out of Seoul started quietly. The kind of late where the city slowly stopped pretending to be alive. Streetlights stretched across the windshield in long golden streaks while soft music played low enough that neither of us bothered acknowledging it properly. Beside me, Ryujin sat with one leg tucked beneath herself while scrolling through her phone with the dangerous calmness of somebody who had already emotionally committed to causing problems several hours ago.
“You’re thinking too loudly,” she muttered without looking up. “That sentence makes absolutely no medical sense.” “You still understood it.”
Fair. I glanced briefly toward her afterward before returning my attention to the road again.
“You know normal people usually ask before abducting somebody in front of a crowd.” “You got into the car voluntarily.” Ryujin snorted softly beside me. “That feels legally debatable.” “You’re being dramatic again.” “You stole my keys earlier.” “Yet you’re the one driving.”
The silence settled comfortably again afterward. Not the softer kind I shared with Yeji. Different. Sharper. Like both of us were constantly waiting to see who would provoke the other first. That dynamic somehow suited Ryujin disturbingly well.
A few minutes later her eyes shifted away from the phone briefly toward me again.
“…So how many houses do you actually own?” “That sounded financially judgmental.” “That sounded like avoidance.” “That sounded invasive.” “That sounded correct.” I sighed softly afterward. “Enough that I don’t actively think about it anymore.”
Ryujin slowly lowered her phone now.
“…That’s the most rich person answer you’ve ever given me.” “In my defense, you people profile me constantly.” “Because you act suspiciously wealthy.” “I literally accepted minimum wage from JYPE.” “You bought an entire floor.” “That was emotional support architecture.” “Nope, that sentence still sounds fake.”
Another quieter silence settled between us afterward while the city lights slowly gave way to darker roads and quieter neighborhoods. “Why this house?” I kept one hand against the steering wheel while answering honestly “Closest one”.
“That somehow concerns me more.” The corner of Ryujin’s mouth twitched slightly afterward before she leaned her head back comfortably against the seat again. For somebody who spent most of her life constantly observed by cameras, fans, staff, and schedules— she looked strangely relaxed disappearing into the dark like this.
By the time we finally arrived, the neighborhood itself had already gone almost completely silent. Ryujin stared openly out the window while I pulled into the driveway. Then paused.
“…Ben.” “That sounded like another comment.” “What the hell is this?” “That sounds judgmental towards the architect who designed the place.” “This is a rich villain house.” “I feel like villains usually have more sinister lighting.” “You absolutely have hidden wine cellars in here.” “That’s ridiculous.”
A pause.
“…There IS a wine cellar though.” “Oh my god.” Ryujin immediately folded forward laughing against the dashboard. “In my defense, it came with the house.”
The inside of the house felt significantly colder than the Top Floor. Less lived in. Expensive in the way old money usually tried pretending it wasn’t. Ryujin noticed immediately. “You don’t stay here much”. More observation “…Not really.”
“Why?” I set the car keys down near the kitchen counter before answering honestly. “It’s too quiet.”
That earned a glance from her. A smaller one this time. Less teasing. Then eventually she walked farther into the living room area before dropping onto the couch casually while kicking her shoes off without asking permission. At this point I respected the consistency.
“Alright emotional support manager,” she muttered while looking around the house afterward. “Where’s the alcohol?” “There’s something deeply concerning about how comfortable you are saying that title now.” “You made it your whole personality.” “That feels unfair.” “But is it inaccurate?”
Unfortunately? She’s right. I grabbed two glasses afterward while Ryujin wandered toward the massive windows overlooking the dark city lights below “…It’s weird”. I glanced toward her briefly “What is?”. Ryujin folded her arms loosely while still staring out the glass “You. You’re ridiculously rich. You could literally disappear and never work again if you wanted to.” She glanced back toward me afterward. “But instead you willingly spend your days getting yelled at by five emotionally unstable women.”
“That description feels incredibly biased.” “It’s also true.”
I handed her a glass afterward before leaning back lightly against the kitchen counter “You’re all worth the headache”. There it was. The smallest shift. But noticeable. Because Ryujin looked away first afterward.
Ryujin eventually wandered back toward the kitchen island afterward before taking a slower sip from the glass in her hand. Then she narrowed her eyes slightly.
“…You know what bothers me?” “You have never used that sentence on me with good intentions.” “Well that’s cause you answer questions like a politician.” “That feels professionally offensive.” “You dodge everything.” I took a slower sip from my own drink afterward. “That’s because you ask questions like an interrogator.” “Because you act suspicious constantly.” “I manage idols for a living. Suspicion is survival.”
Ryujin pointed at me immediately. “See? That.” She leaned lightly against the counter afterward. “Normal people don’t say things like that.”
“Normal people also don’t survive entertainment companies.” “That sounded deeply experienced.”
Ryujin studied me quietly for another moment afterward before continuing “So what’s the actual story with you?” Dangerous question. Invasively a very dangerous question.
I already knew “actual story” could mean family, money, education, why I took the job, or why I seemed emotionally exhausted at thirty despite technically being successful enough to disappear from society permanently.
The problem with observant people was that they eventually noticed the shape of the things you avoided. Ryujin especially.
“You’re gonna need to narrow that down significantly.” “Nope.” She took another sip casually. “I want all of it.” “That sounds emotionally greedy.” “That sounds correct.”
Then she started counting lazily with one finger. “Why are you rich?” “Why psychology?” “Why do you look emotionally tired all the time?” “Why tattoos?” “Why do you care so much about wellbeing?” “Why are you weirdly good at reading people?” “And why do I feel like half your personality is professionally curated damage control?”
Silence. An interesting sequence of observations. I stared at her slowly afterward. “…You’re alarmingly perceptive after alcohol.” Ryujin grinned slightly “You’re alarmingly avoidant while sober”. Another unfortunately correct observation.
I leaned lightly back against the counter afterward while debating internally how much honesty I was willing to survive tonight. Then eventually I decided to partake. “My mother.” Ryujin blinked once. She probably didn’t expect an actual answer that quickly. I rotated the glass once slowly in my hand afterward before continuing. “She worked herself into the ground most of her life.” I shrugged lightly afterward. “Smartest person I knew. Also the worst at resting.” The teasing atmosphere softened slightly. “She died younger than she should’ve”.
The room went quieter afterward. No pity from Ryujin. No dramatic reaction. Which honestly made it easier to keep talking. “I spent a long time realizing most people don’t collapse all at once.” I looked down briefly at the amber liquid in the glass afterward “Usually it happens slowly enough that nobody notices until they stop functioning”.
Ryujin stayed quiet. Actually quiet. Very rare for her. “So now,” I continued more lightly afterward, “I annoy emotionally exhausted celebrities professionally.”
“That sounds like emotional deflection.” “Still an accurate description.”
The corner of Ryujin’s mouth twitched slightly again afterward. But this time the teasing didn’t fully return. Instead, she leaned lightly against the opposite side of the counter while looking at me differently now. Not softer. Just understanding something new. “That’s why you bought the floor.” Not question. Observation. I exhaled quietly through my nose afterward “Partially why”. Ryujin stared at me another second before taking another sip. “Okay now I feel slightly bad for bullying you financially.”
“That implies you’re stopping.” “I’m absolutely not stopping.”
Well, she’s back. Psychological stability restored. I laughed softly under my breath afterward while Ryujin walked around the island counter closer now before casually stealing the bottle directly out of my hand.
“That’s criminal.” “You’re rich. Recover emotionally.” “That sounded concerningly communist.” “That sounded deserved.”
Then she leaned beside me against the counter afterward while pouring herself another drink with visible satisfaction. Only to suddenly pause. Ryujin slowly tilted the bottle slightly afterward before narrowing her eyes at something attached near the bottom corner “…Hold on”.
“You left the price tag on this.” “In my defense, I genuinely forgot.” “That sentence already scares me.”
Ryujin turned the bottle fully now. Then immediately froze. It was a very expensive silence.
“You look like you’ve seen JYPE naked or something.” “What the actual fuck is THIS price?”
I glanced briefly toward the bottle. Ah, right. That one.
“Honestly don’t let it worry you, that’s not the most expensive bottle I have.” “That is NOT an answer.” “It’s alcohol.” “That costs more than my first car.” “That feels emotionally exaggerated.”
Ryujin immediately shoved the bottle directly toward my face afterward.
“THIS is a down payment.”
She stared at the bottle another few seconds afterward like it personally offended her upbringing before slowly looking back toward me.
“…And you’re just casually drinking this?” “I mean…” I shrugged lightly. “It’s open already.”
Ryujin blinked once. Then twice. She was close to a psychological collapse over liquor pricing.
“You know normal rich people usually save things like this for special occasions.” “I don’t really care about objects that much.” “That sentence sounded illegally wealthy.”
I took the bottle gently from her afterward before pouring another small amount into both glasses anyway. Ryujin watched the liquid hit the glass with visible emotional distress.
“You poured that way too confidently.” “That sounds judgmental towards my hand stability.” “You’re drinking liquid rent money.” “That feels economically subjective.”
Ryujin stared at me another second before suddenly laughing into one hand. Not mocking. Genuinely entertained. “You are actually insane.” “That feels medically unverified.”
“No seriously.” She shook her head slowly afterward while still smiling. “You buy buildings when traffic annoys you. You drink alcohol worth more than motorcycles. You accepted minimum wage because apparently money stopped mattering to you years ago.” Then she narrowed her eyes slightly. “And somehow you still act like the most exhausted man I’ve ever met.”
An interesting observation. Because unfortunately that one landed cleaner than expected. I leaned lightly back against the counter afterward before answering honestly. “Money’s useful.” I rotated the glass once slowly in my hand. “But eventually it stops solving the important things.” Ryujin stayed quiet afterward. Actually quiet.
“That sounded depressing.” “And you sounded psychologically observant.” “And you sound like a cry for help hidden behind expensive liquor.”
The corner of my mouth twitched slightly afterward while Ryujin took another sip from the glass before visibly relaxing into the counter beside me again. The atmosphere between us had shifted somewhere along the way tonight. But now there was something else underneath it too. Understanding. Which honestly felt significantly more dangerous than flirting ever could. Ryujin took another slower sip afterward before pointing lightly at the glass in my hand.
“You know what’s funny?” “That sentence continues to threaten my wellbeing consistently.” “You’re ridiculously easy to psychoanalyze when alcohol gets involved.” “That feels targeted.” “It is.”
I shook my head quietly afterward while Ryujin wandered away from the kitchen counter again, this time dropping sideways onto the massive couch while holding the expensive liquor like she personally won it in a custody battle. I respected the confidence.
“You gonna stand there looking emotionally burdened all night?” she asked casually. “That depends. Are you gonna keep financially assaulting me over alcohol pricing?” “Yes.” “Understandable.”
I eventually walked over too before sitting at the opposite end of the couch while Ryujin tucked one leg beneath herself comfortably. The house stayed quiet around us. Too quiet honestly. No upstairs noise. No Yuna screaming over snacks. No Chaeryeong half-asleep somewhere. No Lia quietly observing everybody like an emotionally intelligent cryptid. It was just me and Ryujin.
Ryujin took another slower sip afterward before lazily stretching one arm across the back of the couch “…It’s weird without Yeji unnie around”. I glanced toward her briefly.
“That sounded almost emotionally healthy.” “Don’t make it weird.” “Too late.”
Ryujin rolled her eyes lightly afterward before staring toward the windows again. “The floor feels different when she’s gone.” She was right, though. Yeji had somehow become the emotional center gravity of the entire ecosystem upstairs. Very dangerous emotional stability.
“She talks too much,” Ryujin muttered casually. “That’s objectively false.” “She sends too many messages.” “That’s still objectively false.” “She threatened me emotionally because I forgot dinner yesterday.” “That one sounds believable.”
The corner of Ryujin’s mouth twitched slightly afterward “She worries about everybody constantly”. I leaned back slightly into the couch afterward while rotating the glass once slowly in my hand. “She’s used to carrying things herself and that’s the problem.” Ryujin looked toward me again afterward.
“And you make it worse sometimes.” “That sounded accusatory.” “You keep making it easier for her to carry everyone.”
I blinked once slowly “…That might be the first time anyone’s criticized me for helping people.”
“Because you’re helping wrong.” That earned an actual laugh out of me. Ryujin immediately pointed afterward.
“There. That.” “What?” “You only laugh like that around us now.”
That was an intriguing observation. I looked down briefly toward the glass in my hand afterward. The room quieted again for a moment afterward. Then eventually Ryujin leaned slightly farther into the couch while looking at me more carefully now.
“You changed too.” “That feels dramatically vague.” “You used to act like this was temporary. But now you act like you belong there.”
I exhaled softly through my nose afterward while Ryujin continued watching me from the opposite side of the couch. The alcohol wasn’t making her emotional, it was removing the filter. Which honestly felt significantly more dangerous. Then eventually she spoke again.
“You know what I think is funny?” “That sentence continues to threaten my wellbeing consistently.” “You still think nobody notices things.” I tilted my head slightly “That sounds ominous.”
Ryujin rotated the glass once slowly between her fingers afterward before continuing.
“The way Yeji looks at you.” “The way Lia suddenly finds you hilarious.” “The fact that Yuna practically lives on your floor now.” “The way Chaeryeong calms down around you.”
One after another. Measured. Precise. Problematic girl. Very problematic observational skills.
“And you,” she added afterward while looking directly at me now. “You keep acting surprised every single time somebody gets attached to you.”
“That sounds psychologically loaded.” “That sounds deserved.”
I leaned slightly farther back into the couch afterward while trying very hard not to acknowledge how dangerously close this conversation was getting to several professionally catastrophic truths. Ryujin noticed that too. Of course she did.
“There.” She pointed lightly toward me with her glass. “That look again.” “What look?” “The one where you start thinking about consequences before anything’s even happened yet.” “That sounds emotionally responsible.” “That sounds exhausting.”
Eventually Ryujin spoke again. Quieter now. “But honestly?” She shrugged lightly. “I think you’re full of shit sometimes.” I looked toward her slowly.
“That feels aggressive.” “You act like you’re above basic human thoughts.” “That sounds vaguely insulting.” “You know exactly what I mean.”
I did. Ryujin leaned slightly forward afterward, one arm resting against her knee while she watched me carefully now. “You’re surrounded by five ridiculously attractive women constantly emotionally attached to you.” She tilted her head slightly. “And you still act like you’re some emotionally detached saint managing us professionally.” The floor finally cracking beneath the conversation. I rubbed lightly at my jaw afterward before answering carefully. “I never said that.” Ryujin blinked once. Because that clearly wasn’t the answer she expected.
“You didn’t deny it either.” “Because denying that you’re all attractive would make me either dishonest or legally blind.”
That immediately made Ryujin laugh softly beneath her breath. “There he is,” she muttered. “I’m deeply concerned by how happy that response made you.”
“Because it was honest.”
Then eventually the corner of Ryujin’s mouth curved slightly again afterward while she leaned farther back into the couch.
“I bet you just want to fuck us silly sometimes, don’t you?”
The worst part? She wasn’t wrong. Ryujin watched me carefully from the opposite side of the couch while slowly taking another sip from her drink. Waiting. I leaned back slightly farther into the couch afterward before answering honestly. “You say that like it’s some horrifying revelation.” Ryujin blinked once. Then immediately laughed. Actually laughed.
“Oh my god.” “That sounded judgmental.” “No seriously,” she muttered while shaking her head slightly. “You admitted that WAY too calmly.” “You’re all objectively attractive people.” I shrugged lightly afterward. “What psychopath would look at ITZY and go ‘absolutely nothing happening there physically’? I might not say it outright but it’s what I believe in.” “That’s fair honestly.” “Thank you.” “But also emotionally devastating to hear out loud.”
Ryujin snorted softly again before pointing her glass toward me afterward. “See? THIS is what I mean.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “You act emotionally responsible ninety percent of the time then suddenly say something catastrophically honest like it’s normal.”
“That sounds psychologically balanced actually.” “That sounds deeply incorrect.”
I rotated the glass once slowly in my hand afterward before continuing more seriously this time. “But that’s not why I took the job.” That shifted the atmosphere slightly. Ryujin immediately noticed the difference in tone. Of course she did. “I know, if it was, then none the others would have trusted you.” she answered surprisingly quickly. I glanced toward her briefly afterward.
“You say that with a concerning amount of confidence.” “Because I’m not stupid.”
Ryujin leaned slightly farther back afterward while looking at me carefully now. “You care too much for this to just be about attraction.” She shrugged lightly. “That’s why this whole thing is messy.” The alcohol hit differently now. Not enough to blur judgment. Just enough to stop sanding down honesty. I exhaled softly through my nose afterward.
“That sounds ominous.” “That sounds accurate.”
Then eventually Ryujin tilted her head slightly while studying me again. “But honestly?” The corner of her mouth curved faintly afterward. “I think the funniest part is you still act like you’re the only person trying to control themselves.” I stayed quiet— and that was answer enough too. Ryujin noticed immediately. Of course she did. Then slowly— she sat her glass down onto the table nearby before looking directly at me now. No teasing this time.
“What if I told you that what I want is for you to fuck me silly?”
The room went quiet again afterward. Dangerously aware now. Ryujin didn’t look away after saying it either. I stared at her for another second afterward before exhaling softly through my nose.
“That feels like an unbelievably reckless sentence to say to your manager.” “That sounds like avoidance.” “It’s professional self-preservation.”
Ryujin rolled her eyes lightly. “You know what I mean.”
Unfortunately? I did. That was the problem. I leaned forward slightly afterward, resting my elbows against my knees while looking toward the floor briefly.
“You’re drunk.” “That’s a horrible defense.” Ryujin immediately pointed toward her glass. “I’m buzzed at best.” “And honestly?” she continued more casually afterward, “you already admitted the attraction exists.” “That does not automatically make this a psychologically reasonable idea.” “Neither does buying an entire floor for five emotionally unstable women.” “That feels aggressively targeted.” “And it’s well deserved.”
Also fair. I laughed quietly under my breath afterward before rubbing lightly at my forehead. This entire conversation was becoming professionally catastrophic at alarming speed. And the worst part? Ryujin looked completely calm. No emotional spiraling. No vulnerability. No hidden panic. Nothing but deliberate escalation. Then eventually she stood from the couch. I looked up slowly as Ryujin wandered closer now before stopping directly in front of where I sat.
“You think too much,” she muttered. “That sounds hypocritical coming from you.” “No.” Ryujin tilted her head slightly afterward. “I just decide things faster.” I looked up toward her quietly afterward. “And this is one of those decisions?” Ryujin shrugged lightly. “I know what I’m asking for.”
That landed harder than expected. Because there was no hesitation in her voice. And honestly? That somehow made the situation significantly more dangerous. I leaned farther back slightly afterward while Ryujin stayed standing between my knees now, still watching me carefully.
“You really enjoy making my life difficult, don’t you Ryujin?” “You enjoy pretending you don’t want things.”
The alcohol wasn’t helping anymore. Not because it blurred judgment. Because it made honesty easier to stop being filtered. Then eventually Ryujin folded her arms loosely before speaking again.
“You know what the funniest part is?” “That sentence never stops to destroy me mentally.” “You still think this would somehow make me emotionally fragile.” I narrowed my eyes slightly. “That’s not what I think.” “It absolutely is.” Ryujin scoffed softly afterward. “Ben, I’m not gonna collapse because I slept with somebody attractive.” “That wording feels emotionally insane.” “That wording is honest. Ignoring it would make me either dishonest or legally blind.”
She used my own words against me. Then finally— she leaned slightly closer afterward. Not enough to touch. Just enough that the tension stopped pretending not to exist anymore.
“And if we’re being honest?” Ryujin muttered quietly. “I think you want me to stop giving you chances to walk away.”
She was right again. I stayed still for another second afterward while Ryujin remained standing directly in front of me. Close now, too close.
The alcohol settled warm beneath my skin in the worst possible way, not enough to cloud judgment— just enough to stop hiding from it. Ryujin tilted her head slightly afterward when I still didn’t answer.
“There’s that look again.” “That sentence is becoming mentally exhausting.” “And you stalling is mentally exhausting for me, Ben.”
I exhaled quietly through my nose afterward before finally looking up at her properly. “You really don’t know when to stop.” The corner of Ryujin’s mouth curved faintly again afterward “That sounds like you’re still hoping I will”.
There wasn’t a hint of softness or affection. Only the look of victory. Which honestly suited her significantly too well. Then finally she stepped closer. Close enough now that my knees brushed lightly against her thighs.
“You know what your issue is?” she muttered quietly. “I feel like I’m about to get psychoanalyzed against my will.” “You keep trying to act morally responsible after the line’s already gone.”
That landed harder than expected. Because unfortunately? She was right again. I looked up toward her slowly afterward while Ryujin watched me with entirely too much awareness now. “You think if you hesitate long enough,” she continued quietly, “it somehow changes the fact that we both know exactly where this is going.” Then finally— she reached down. Just enough for her fingers to lightly catch beneath my jaw before tilting my head upward slightly toward her.
“Still thinking?” she muttered softly. I let out a quieter laugh beneath my breath afterward. “That sounds incredibly smug for somebody currently propositioning their manager.” Ryujin shrugged lightly. “You admitted you wanted honesty.”
“That feels weaponized.” “Deserved weaponization, mind you.”
The tension between us stopped feeling theoretical somewhere several minutes ago. Now it just felt heavy. Ryujin’s thumb brushed lightly once against my jaw afterward before her eyes flicked briefly toward my mouth. “Last chance,” she murmured quietly. That wasn’t a warning or hesitation. Just letting me acknowledge it. That somehow made it significantly harder to pretend this wasn’t inevitable anymore.
The silence in the room didn't just linger; it pressed against my chest, heavy and suffocating. Ryujin stood there, a challenge wrapped in skin and stubbornness, her eyes locked onto mine with a clarity that stripped away every professional excuse I had left. The "manager" in me was screaming about boundaries and contracts, but the man in me had already surrendered. I stopped thinking. I stopped calculating the fallout. I simply reached out and grabbed her.
Ryujin didn't wait for a gentle transition. She lunged, her body colliding with mine as she bent forward, capturing my mouth in a kiss that felt less like an invitation and more like an invasion. There was no tentative exploration, no soft brushing of lips. It was a collision. Her tongue forced its way past my teeth immediately, claiming the space with a hunger that mirrored my own suppressed desperation. She tasted of the expensive whiskey we’d been drinking and something uniquely her—something sharp and electric. She groaned into my mouth, a low, guttural sound, and her hands didn't just touch me; they seized me. She grabbed my wrists and dragged my hands down, shoving them onto her hips and forcing me to grip her. I dug my fingers into her flesh, my nails probably leaving marks, but she only pushed harder against me, her body molding to mine as if she wanted to merge our skeletons.
Ryujin pulled back just an inch, her breath hot and erratic against my lips. Her eyes were dark, the pupils blown wide, swallowing the iris. "Stop pretending you're the bigger person, Ben," she breathed, her voice a jagged edge. "Just fuck me."
The last thread of my restraint snapped. I didn't answer with words. I backed her up against the nearest piece of furniture, the sound of a lamp rattling as it hit the wall. Ryujin didn't flinch. Instead, she stepped back, her hands moving to the hem of her shirt. In one fluid, defiant motion, she ripped the garment over her head and flung it across the room. I watched her, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. She stood there in just her bra and lace underwear, her skin glowing under the dim lights of the house. She didn't look shy; she looked like a predator who had finally cornered its prey. "Your turn," she commanded, a smug little smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
I stripped with a frantic energy I didn't know I possessed. My shirt followed hers, then my trousers, until I stood before her in only my boxers. Ryujin’s gaze traveled slowly up my body, lingering on the hard lines of my chest and the ink that sprawled across my skin. She reached out, her fingertips grazing one of the tattoos on my arm, her touch light but searing. "I always wondered if you were hiding something under those suits," she whispered, her voice dripping with a new kind of heat. "The ink makes you look... dangerous. It makes me want it even more." Her eyes dropped lower, focusing on the prominent bulge straining against the fabric of my boxers. A flicker of genuine surprise crossed her face. She didn't hesitate. She reached out, her small hand wrapping around the length of me through the cloth, squeezing firmly. "Jesus," she breathed, her voice dropping an octave. She hooked her finger into the waistband and pulled the boxers down in one swift motion.
My cock sprung free, fully erect and pulsing with a heavy, aching throb. Ryujin froze for a second, her eyes widening as she stared at me. She reached out, her fingers tracing the head of my cock, feeling the bead of pre-cum that had already leaked out. "I've had toys," she murmured, almost to herself, her gaze fixed on the girth of me. "But this... this is something else entirely. You've been hiding this the whole time?" "You wanted the truth, Ryujin," I rasped, my voice sounding like gravel. "Here it is." She didn't waste another second. She didn't want romance, and she certainly didn't want a slow build-up. She grabbed my hand and shoved me back toward the sofa, pushing me down until I was lying flat.
Before I could even catch my breath, she was straddling me, her lace underwear already discarded on the floor. She didn't ask for foreplay. She didn't want a gentle introduction. She gripped the base of my cock, guided the head to her entrance, and slammed herself down in one violent, decisive motion. I let out a choked gasp, my back arching off the sofa. The heat was instantaneous and overwhelming. Ryujin was soaking wet, her pussy clamping around me with a tightness that felt like it was trying to pull the soul right out of my body. The friction was intense, the sensation of my skin sliding against her slick walls creating a wet, squelching sound that filled the quiet room. Ryujin threw her head back, a loud, unrestrained moan escaping her throat. She didn't start slow. She began to bounce, her hips moving in a frantic, competitive rhythm.
It wasn't a dance; it was a battle. She was trying to see how much she could take, how hard she could push me, and I met her energy with everything I had. "Is this... what you wanted?" I groaned, my hands gripping her waist, my fingers digging into the soft curve of her hips to drive her down harder. "More," she gasped, her voice strained. "Don't you dare... hold back now, Ben. Give me... everything." The sound of our bodies colliding—the slap of her thighs against my legs, the rhythmic sounds of my cock sliding in and out of her drenched pussy became the only thing that existed. Ryujin was aggressive, her movements impulsive and raw. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against my chest, her nipples hard and grazing my skin. She was fighting for control, trying to set the pace, her eyes locked on mine with a defiant, lust-filled glare.
I felt the pressure building in my gut, a tidal wave of release threatening to crash. As I neared the peak, my thrusts became more erratic, more powerful. But just as I felt the first spasm of orgasm hit, Ryujin gripped my hips and slid herself off me with a sudden, jarring movement. I let out a frustrated groan, my cock twitching in the open air, the sudden loss of heat leaving me reeling. I looked up at her, breathless and shaking. Ryujin stood over me, her chest heaving, a triumphant, smug expression on her face as she looked down at my leaking tip. "Not yet," she whispered, her voice playful and cruel.
She didn't give me time to argue. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bedroom, her movements urgent. She wanted more, but she wanted it on her terms. Once we hit the mattress, the power struggle intensified. Ryujin immediately climbed on top of me again, her skin flushed a deep pink, sweat making her glow in the moonlight filtering through the curtains. She began to ride me again, her movements slower now, more deliberate, teasing the head of my cock against her clit before sliding down fully. "You're so frustrated," she taunted, a small, knowing smile on her lips. "I can feel it. You're practically vibrating."
"Shut up and move," I growled, my hands sliding up to her breasts, squeezing them firmly. She laughed, a breathless, airy sound, and increased the pace. The sex was a collision of wills. Every time I tried to flip her over, every time I tried to take the lead and dictate the rhythm, she fought me. She would shift her weight, pin my arms for a second, or change the angle to keep me guessing. It was a game of physical chess, and for the first two rounds, Ryujin won every single exchange. The friction was incredible. The smell of her musk, and the sweet scent of her arousal—filled the room. I could feel the inside of her walls pulsing around me, her own orgasms hitting her in waves. She was loud, her moans turning into high-pitched cries that echoed off the walls. But every time I reached the edge, every time I felt the surge of cum ready to explode, she would pull back or shift the angle, denying me the full release of coming inside her.
By the third round, the atmosphere shifted. The competitive energy was still there, but the physical toll began to mount. Ryujin’s movements slowed. Her breathing became heavy, labored. The sheer intensity of the stimulation—the size of me filling her to the brim and the relentless pace we'd kept—started to wear her down. She eventually collapsed onto my chest, her skin slick with sweat, her heart hammering against mine. Her guard dropped. The smugness vanished, replaced by a look of pure, exhausted bliss. She was spent, her body trembling from the back-to-back orgasms.
I felt it then. The shift in the air. The moment where the power balance tipped. I didn't give her time to recover. While she was still reeling from her last peak, I gripped her waist and flipped her over with one powerful motion. Ryujin let out a surprised yelp, her eyes snapping open. She tried to push back, tried to regain the dominant pacing she'd held all night, but her muscles were like jelly. She was too overstimulated, too physically drained to fight me. "My turn," I whispered, my voice low and dangerous. I grabbed both of her wrists in one hand and pinned them brutally above her head, slamming them into the mattress. The sudden restriction made her gasp, her body arching instinctively.
I didn't go slow. I entered her with a forceful, deep thrust that buried me to the hilt, hitting her cervix with a bluntness that made her eyes roll back in her head. "Ben!" she screamed, the sound raw and loud. "You've had your fun, Ryujin," I groaned, my hips slamming into hers with a rhythmic, punishing force. "Now you're going to take exactly what I give you." This wasn't the push-and-pull of before. This was total domination. I stopped caring about the pace she wanted and started imposing my own. I drove into her with a relentless, heavy intensity, each thrust accompanied by the loud, wet slap of my skin ramming her. The sound was visceral, a rhythmic squelch that signaled just how deep I was sinking into her.
Ryujin wasn't fighting me anymore. She was sobbing into the pillow, her voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation. The feeling of being overpowered, of finally meeting someone who could not only match her intensity but crush it, was overloading her. I released her wrists and grabbed her hair, winding the strands around my fist and pulling her head back. I shifted her, flipping her onto all fours in a jagged motion. I pushed her chest down against the mattress and guided her toward the large mirror leaning against the bedroom wall.
"Look," I commanded, my voice a guttural rasp. Ryujin looked. She saw herself in the reflection—her back arched, her face flushed and ecstatic, her eyes glazed with a level of pleasure that bordered on pain. She saw me behind her, my muscular frame looming over her, my cock disappearing entirely into her soaking wet pussy with every brutal drive. I leaned down, my chest pressing against her back, and delivered a sharp, stinging spank to her right butt cheek. The sound cracked through the room like a whip. Ryujin let out a piercing moan, her entire body shuddering. The shock of the pain combined with the depth of the penetration triggered something in her. Her internal muscles clamped down on me with a violence that nearly brought me to my knees. "Oh god, yes! Harder! Fuck me harder!" she wailed, her voice completely broken, stripped of all its previous smugness. I obliged. I hammered into her, my movements instinctive and rough. I could feel her coming again, a massive, rolling orgasm that made her hips shake uncontrollably. She was loud, her moans turning into guttural screams of satisfaction.
She had spent the whole night trying to control the experience, and now, in the total surrender of her control, she was finding a pleasure that was earth-shattering. I felt the pressure in my loins reaching a critical mass. I didn't want to pull out this time. I didn't want the game— I wanted the mark. I gripped her hips and flipped her back onto her back, pulling her legs up over my shoulders. I wanted to see her face. I wanted to see the exact moment she broke.
As I drove into her one last time, the depth was absolute. I felt the heat of her pussy enveloping me, the walls pulsing in a desperate rhythm. "I'm coming inside you, Ryujin," I growled, my voice thick with lust. "And you're not moving an inch." "No... wait..." she gasped, a ghost of her previous resistance flickering in her eyes. But her body told a different story. Her hips were bucking upward, begging for the impact, her pussy gripping me with a needy, starving intensity. She was faking the protest, her voice trembling with a desire she could no longer hide. "I don't care what you say," I rasped, slamming my weight down on her. "You're taking all of it." I let out a roar as the orgasm finally ripped through me. It was an explosion of heat and pressure. I felt my cock pulse violently inside her, pumping thick, hot jets of cum deep against her cervix. The sensation was overwhelming, a blinding white light of pleasure that made my entire body shake.
Ryujin screamed, her own orgasm hitting simultaneously. She clamped down on me, I could feel her internal muscles milking me dry, her face twisted in a mask of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. I didn't pull out. I stayed buried deep inside her, my chest heaving, my skin slick with sweat. I leaned down and captured her mouth in a kiss that was possessive and heavy, our tongues tangling in a messy exchange of saliva and breath. It was a seal, a silent declaration that the power struggle was over. But the fire hadn't completely died. Even as I lay there, I could feel the lingering thrum of desire. Ryujin was beneath me, completely broken and fulfilled, her breath coming in shallow hitches.
I started to move again. Slowly at first, then with a renewed, steady intensity. "Ben... I can't... I'm too sensitive..." she moaned, her voice a fragile thread. "Too bad," I whispered, my voice possessive. I continued to fuck her, the friction now almost too much for her to bear. Every slide of my cock felt like an electric shock to her overstimulated nerves. She was crying out, her voice hoarse, her body arching and twisting under me. She was caught in a loop of pleasure, unable to escape the sensation of me filling her. "Please... oh god, please don't stop..." she whimpered, her hands clutching at my arms. I kept going, driving her further and further into a state of sensory overload.
I watched her face—the way her eyes rolled back, the way her mouth stayed open in a silent scream of pleasure. I was the only thing she could feel, the only thing that mattered. Finally, after what felt like hours of relentless movement, I felt another surge building. It wasn't as explosive as the first, but it was heavy and inevitable.
I pulled out of her with a wet, sucking sound, the air hitting my slick skin. Ryujin let out a whimper of loss, her legs still trembling. I gripped her thighs, pulling her toward the edge of the bed. With one final, powerful thrust of my hips, I erupted across her stomach and breasts. The hot, white cream splattered across her golden skin, marking her in the dim light. Ryujin gasped, her eyes fluttering shut as she looked down at the mess I'd made of her. She didn't look disgusted; she looked conquered. She looked complete.
I collapsed beside her, the silence of the room returning, but this time it wasn't heavy. It was light, airy, and filled with the scent of our shared exhaustion. I reached out, my hand instinctively finding the small of her back, pulling her close. Ryujin sighed, a long, shaky sound, and curled into my side. The fire had burned out, leaving behind a smoldering heat that felt more honest than any professional boundary we had ever tried to maintain. "You're a menace," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You started it," I replied, kissing her forehead. She let out a soft, genuine laugh, the sound of someone who had finally found a match.
The haze of sleep didn't lift so much as it was ripped away. I felt it before I saw her—a sudden, searing heat enveloping the head of my cock, followed by the rhythmic, wet suction of a mouth that knew exactly what it wanted. My eyes snapped open to find Ryujin hovering over me, her hair messy, her eyes locked onto mine with a predatory glint. She wasn't just waking me up; she was claiming the day.
The sensation was staggering. She used her tongue to swirl around the rim of my glans before sliding down, taking me deep into the warmth of her throat. I let out a low, guttural groan, my hips instinctively bucking upward. She didn't flinch. She leaned into it, her cheeks hollowing as she created a vacuum that felt like it was pulling the marrow from my bones. The sound was a constant, wet with the noise of saliva mixing with the friction of her lips against my shaft.
She looked up at me, her eyes narrowing, a smug little smirk playing on her lips even as she worked. She knew the power she held in this moment. I reached down, my fingers tangling in her hair, not to pull her away, but to anchor her as I began to thrust my hips into her mouth. She let out a muffled sound, a small, nasal whine of protest that only served to heighten the intensity. She took me deeper, pushing past her gag reflex, her throat tightening around me in a way that made my vision blur.
The pressure built with a violent speed. I could feel the pre-cum leaking, lubricating the path as she accelerated her pace. Her tongue flicked against the underside of my cock, hitting the nerve endings with precision. I gripped her hair tighter, my breath coming in jagged hitches. "Ryujin," I rasped, my voice a wreck. She didn't stop. She doubled down, her suction becoming frantic, her mouth molding to every ridge of my length.
When the orgasm finally hit, it felt like a physical blow. I surged upward, my body shuddering as I pumped thick, hot jets of cum deep into her throat. She didn't pull away. She stayed clamped on, determined to take every single drop. I felt the pulses of my cock hitting the back of her throat, the volume of the release clearly catching her off guard. She tried to swallow, her throat working hard, but the sheer amount was too much.
A thin, white string of cum leaked from the corner of her mouth, dripping onto her chin. She pulled back slowly, a wet pop echoing in the quiet room. She licked her lips, savoring the taste of my seed, and gave me that same, insufferable grin.
"You're a lot louder when you're not thinking about your contract, Ben." "You're a menace." "And you love it." She slid off me with a slow, deliberate friction that left me twitching.
I eventually leaned back against the headboard afterward while trying to regulate my breathing again. Ryujin looked significantly too pleased with herself. “You look emotionally compromised,” she muttered casually while wiping lightly at the corner of her mouth afterward.
“That feels aggressively judgmental considering the circumstances.” “Usually people treat that as a reward for a good job.”
I rubbed lightly at my forehead afterward before finally looking toward her properly “…You woke me up like a starved nymphomaniac.”
Ryujin snorted softly. “You weren’t complaining.” “That feels legally unusable against me.” “That sounds like surrender.” “Absolutely not.”
The grin she gave me afterward suggested she interpreted that as complete victory anyway. Then eventually Ryujin shifted slightly closer across the bed afterward before speaking again. “By the way,” she muttered casually, “don’t start giving me that boyfriend treatment now.” I narrowed my eyes slightly. “That sounds vaguely threatening.”
“That sounds preventative.” Ryujin leaned lightly back against the pillows afterward while looking at me directly now. “I like you, Ben.” She shrugged casually. “Obviously, I don’t think anyone could give it to me the way that you did.” Then immediately afterward “But I don’t want whatever you and Yeji have.” A dangerous sentence that she said so casually. No bitterness. No jealousy. No hesitation. I stared at her another second afterward “…You know.” Ryujin immediately rolled her eyes. “Please.” She let out a quiet laugh afterward. “You two are terrible at hiding it.”
“That feels emotionally invasive.” “That feels observant.”
I exhaled softly through my nose afterward while Ryujin continued watching me with visible amusement now. “The way she looks at you alone already gives everything away,” she muttered. “And you act completely different around her.” Then eventually Ryujin tilted her head slightly afterward. “But honestly?” She shrugged. “I don’t really care about the details.”
“You say that surprisingly calmly.” I looked toward her quietly. “Because I’m not trying to replace her.” That landed cleaner than expected. Ryujin stretched one arm lazily above her head afterward before continuing casually. “I’m just being honest about what I want.” Her eyes shifted back toward me again afterward. “And after last night?” The corner of her mouth curved faintly. “I definitely want more of that.” I rubbed lightly at my jaw afterward while Ryujin watched the reaction with visible satisfaction now. “I don’t want the soft aftercare princess treatment,” she muttered. “I don’t need the emotional reassurance speeches.” Her expression shifted slightly afterward. Less teasing now. More deliberate. “You fucked me silly last night, for the first time— I was actually fucked silly and I loved it.” Ryujin held eye contact anyway. “I expect you to fuck me hard when I want you to,” she continued casually afterward. “And honestly?” Her eyes flicked briefly downward before returning to mine again. “I expect you to fuck me until I’m a mess when you want to.”
An hour later, the bathroom was a sanctuary of white tile and blinding steam. The hot water hammered against the walls, creating a humid fog that clung to our skin. I stood under the spray, the heat loosening the tension in my shoulders, until Ryujin stepped in. She didn't say a word. She just walked into my space, her wet skin sliding against mine, her eyes dark with a hunger that hadn't been sated by the morning's first round. I didn't give her the chance to tease. I grabbed her hips and lifted her in one fluid motion. Ryujin let out a sharp gasp, her legs immediately locking around my waist, her arms winding around my neck. The weight of her was perfect, her damp heat pressing against my groin.
I entered her with a single, deep drive. The sound was a loud, wet squelch as my cock slid into her drenched pussy, the lubrication of the soap and her own arousal making the entry effortless. Ryujin threw her head back, a loud moan echoing off the tiles, her body arching against mine. "God, you're so tight," I groaned into her ear. "Stop talking," she breathed, her voice a jagged edge. "Just... don't stop." I began to move, the rhythm steady and punishing. I walked her back against the shower wall, the cold tile a stark contrast to the searing heat of our bodies. Each thrust was deep, a rhythmic thud. We kissed with a desperation that felt like we were trying to breathe for each other, our tongues tangling, saliva exchanging in a messy, frantic blur. The friction was incredible. The water cascaded over us, but it couldn't cool the fire. I could feel the internal walls of her pussy pulsing around me, clamping down with every slide. Ryujin's breathing became a series of broken whimpers, her nails digging into my shoulders. I shifted my angle, driving my cock upward to hit her g-spot with every ram.
"Ben... please... right there..." I didn't let up. I accelerated the pace, my movements becoming more instinctive, more rough. I wanted to feel her break. I wanted to see that confidence dissolve into pure, unadulterated need. I felt the build-up in my gut, the tidal wave of release crashing over me. At the same moment, Ryujin's body began to shudder. She tightened around me, her internal muscles milking me with a violence that forced a roar from my chest. I slammed into her one last time, burying myself to the hilt. I pumped my cum deep inside her, the volume of the release filling her to the brim. The sensation of the hot fluid ffilling her womb triggered something primal in Ryujin. She broke the kiss, her mouth falling open as she let out a guttural, soul-shaking moan that drowned out the sound of the shower.
We stayed like that for a long minute, the water rinsing the salt and sweat from our skin. As I slowly lowered her to her feet, Ryujin didn't pull away. Instead, her hand wandered down, her fingers curling around my softening cock, squeezing it with a lingering possessiveness "Still not enough," she whispered. I looked at her—flushed, dripping, and completely insatiable. I reached down and delivered a sharp, stinging slap to her ass. The sound cracked through the steam. Ryujin jumped, a small gasp escaping her, but she didn't move her hand. I kept my grip on her hip, sliding two fingers deep into her dripping pussy, hooking them upward to toy with her clit. "You're going to be a mess by the time we leave this house," I muttered. "That's the plan, manager."
The house felt cavernous and too quiet, which only made the sounds of our breathing seem louder. Since the kitchen was barren, we ordered food, the wait time giving us a reprieve that neither of us actually wanted. We wandered the halls in nothing but our underwear—me in my boxers, Ryujin in a pair of black lace panties that left nothing to the imagination. The atmosphere was a strange mix of domesticity and raw electricity. We ate on the counter, the conversation casual, almost normal, but the way Ryujin’s eyes kept tracking the movement of my throat when I drank water told a different story.
"I'll do the dishes," she offered, leaning back against the sink. "Consider it a thank you for the... hospitality." I watched her as she turned her back to me, the lace of her panties stretching over the curve of her ass. The invitation was silent, but it was deafening. I walked up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her back against my chest. "I specifically asked you for none of that boyfriend treatment bullshit," Ryujin retorted, though she leaned her head back against my shoulder. "What is this?"
"A distraction," I whispered. I didn't wait for her to argue. I slid my hand down, pushing the lace aside and burying my fingers in her soaking wet heat. Ryujin let out a sharp, choked sound, her hands gripping the edge of the sink. I didn't go slow. I attacked her g-spot with a vigorous, rhythmic motion, my thumb grinding into her clit with a pressure that had her legs shaking.
"Ben... oh god... stop... no, don't stop..." She was on the verge, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps. I could feel the tension in her thighs, the way her pussy was clamping down on my fingers. Just as she reached the peak, just as the first wave of the orgasm began to roll through her, I ripped my fingers out. Ryujin let out a whimper of pure frustration, her body sagging. "You... you bastard..." I didn't give her a second to recover. I stepped closer, my cock already hard and pulsing, and rammed myself into her from behind in one violent motion. The impact was brutal. Ryujin screamed, the sound muffled by the quiet of the kitchen. She had been so preoccupied with the near-orgasm that she had no defense. I had full control now. I gripped her hair, pulling her head back so I could see the expression of shock and pleasure on her face in the reflection of the window. I began to fuck her with a relentless, heavy intensity. Every thrust was a statement. I slammed my hips into her, the sound of our bodies colliding—a rhythmic, wet slap—filling the room.
I delivered a sharp spank to her right cheek, the sound echoing, and she tightened around me instantly, her pussy gripping my shaft like a vice. "Look at you," I growled, leaning down to capture her lips in a deep, tongue-heavy kiss. "So loud now." I didn't stop the ramming, my cock sliding in and out of her with a visceral, squelching sound. Ryujin was lost. The struggle for control had vanished, replaced by a desperate, starving need. She began to sob into the kiss, her body bucking against me. The stimulation was too much; the combination of the rough penetration and the hair-pulling pushed her over the edge. She came with a violence that left her breathless, her juices spraying across the floor, dripping from the edge of the counter. I felt her internal muscles convulsing around me, milking me dry. I didn't pull out. I drove into her one last time, my body shuddering as I erupted across her back, the hot cum splattering against her skin.
Ryujin collapsed, her knees giving out as she slid to the floor. She lay there for a moment, chest heaving, her skin flushed a deep pink. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she turned and crawled back toward me. She didn't say anything. She just reached out and took my cock into her mouth, sucking the remaining cum out with a focused, expert intensity. "You... really do... like being a mess," I panted, looking down at her. Ryujin looked up at me, her eyes glazed, a bit of saliva trailing from her lip. "I like the way you make me one."
By the time the afternoon sun began to dip, we had lost count. The house had become a map of our encounters—the shower, the kitchen, the hallway. We were exhausted, our muscles aching, our skin hypersensitive, but the hunger remained. It was a cycle of escalation that neither of us knew how to break. I was sprawled on the couch, my head back, eyes closed, trying to find some semblance of peace. Then I felt it. Ryujin had knelt between my legs. She wasn't just sucking me off this time. She was practicing. She looked up at me, a challenge in her eyes, and then she opened her mouth wide. She slid down, taking me in, deeper than she ever had before. I felt the head of my cock hit the very back of her throat. She gagged, her eyes watering, but she didn't pull back. Instead, she used her hands to push herself further down, forcing my entire length into her.
The sensation was overwhelming. The tight, hot constriction of her throat wrapping around me was unlike anything else. I watched her, mesmerized, as she worked her way up and down, her movements slow and deliberate. She was learning the geometry of my body, finding the exact angle that made me groan. The sound of her swallowing, the wet, rhythmic suction—it was a symphony of surrender. I reached down, my hands gripping her shoulders, guiding her rhythm. I could see the effort in her eyes, the way she was fighting her own body to take more of me. The desperation in her expression was the most erotic thing I had ever seen.
"You're... actually doing it," I rasped. She didn't answer, her mouth too full. She just looked up at me, her pupils blown wide, and accelerated the pace. The friction of her throat was too much. I felt the pressure build, a sudden, sharp spike of need. "Ryujin, I'm—"
She didn't pull away. She wanted it. She wanted the evidence of my release. I surged upward, my body arching as I came. I pulled out at the last second, the force of the orgasm sending thick, white ropes of cum flying across her face. It splattered across her cheeks, her forehead, and a heavy dollop landed right on her lower lip. Ryujin stayed there, frozen, blinking through the white streaks of cum. She looked like a painting of absolute ruin. I looked down at her, my breath returning, and a small, genuine smile touched my lips. "You know," I whispered, reaching out to brush a bit of cum from her cheek. "You look perfect drenched in my cum." Ryujin wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, tasting herself and me. She looked at me, and for the first time all day, there was no smugness. No challenge. Just a raw, honest satisfaction. "Shut up, Ben," she muttered, though she leaned into my touch. "Just... make sure you can do that again before we go home."
Ryujin eventually disappeared into the bathroom afterward to clean up properly while I remained sprawled across the couch trying to remember what psychological stability felt like before this weekend happened, unsuccessfully. The house itself had gone quieter now. The air still carried traces of steam, sweat, expensive liquor, and several catastrophically irresponsible decisions. Somewhere in the bathroom, I could hear Ryujin humming faintly to herself with entirely too much satisfaction for somebody who had spent the last twenty-four hours destroying my remaining professional boundaries.
I leaned my head farther back into the couch afterward before closing my eyes briefly. Then eventually “…You alive out there?” I answered toward the bathroom afterward “Physically? Debatable”. Ryujin laughed softly somewhere behind the partially open door.
“That sounds like a skill issue.” “That sounds medically concerning after everything that happened.” “That sounds deserved.”
A few minutes later she finally wandered back out wearing one of my oversized shirts and a pair of shorts she had apparently stolen from somewhere in the house without permission. At this point I respected the consistency.
Her hair was still slightly damp from the shower, her face softer now without the constant smugness she weaponized ninety percent of the time. I immediately pointed toward her.
“You’re stealing clothes now.” “You’re rich. Recover emotionally.” “That sentence continues to financially threaten me consistently.”
Ryujin ignored me entirely before dropping sideways onto the couch beside me with visible exhaustion now finally beginning to catch up to her.
“We should probably go home before they start filing missing person reports.” “That sounds responsible.” I glanced toward her briefly. “Who are you and what have you done with Ryujin?” “Shut up.”
The corner of my mouth twitched slightly afterward while Ryujin rested her head briefly against the back cushions. Then after another quieter moment “We should stop by a pharmacy first.” I blinked once slowly. I tilted my head slightly afterward “That sounded ominously specific.” Ryujin looked at me like I’d asked something deeply stupid. “I’m not risking pregnancy, Ben.” I stayed quiet another second afterward while Ryujin continued casually scrolling through her phone now like she hadn’t just dropped a life-altering logistical statement into the room.
“You planned that surprisingly fast.” “I plan a lot of things fast.”
Then finally she glanced toward me again.
“I intend to keep letting you finish inside me when we do this.” “So I’d rather trust medication than luck.”
Because somehow the blunt practicality of the statement felt significantly more intimate than the sex itself had. Ryujin immediately noticed the look on my face afterward too.
“There’s that look again.” “That sentence is becoming psychologically exhausting.” “You’re overthinking again.” “That’s because you say things like that horrifyingly casually.” “That sounds like a you problem.”
About an hour later, the drive back toward the Top Floor felt significantly different from the drive leaving it. Not because of awkwardness. There wasn’t any. Ryujin sat comfortably in the passenger seat wearing a cap low enough to hide most of her face while lazily tapping through music on her phone. Meanwhile I was actively trying not to think about the fact that we had spent nearly an entire day having sex, she had already normalized the arrangement psychologically, and somehow I still had to return home pretending my life hadn’t become professionally catastrophic.
Excellent. Fantastic even. Then eventually Ryujin spoke again without looking up.
“You know what’s gonna happen the second we walk in there, right?” “That sounds threatening.” “That sounds accurate.”
Because the moment the elevator finally opened onto the Top Floor later that afternoon— all four of them were already there. It was an ambush. Yuna looked up first from the couch almost immediately.
“There they are!” “That sounded accusatory already.”
Chaeryeong narrowed her eyes slightly afterward while looking between the two of us.
“You were gone for like… an entire day.” “That sounds emotionally investigative.” “That’s because it IS emotionally investigative,” Yuna immediately added.
Meanwhile Lia remained seated near the kitchen island quietly sipping coffee while observing us with entirely too much awareness. And then finally— Yeji looked up too. Because unlike the others Yeji didn’t look confused and somehow that felt significantly scarier.
The silence lasted maybe two seconds. “…Why do both of you look exhausted?” Yuna asked suspiciously. “That feels medically invasive.” Ryujin answered casually while walking past me entirely unbothered. “That feels deserved”. Chaeryeong looked between the two of us afterward before narrowing her eyes slightly “…Did you two even sleep?” I immediately pointed toward her.
“That sounds accusatory for somebody currently unemployed from detective work.” “That’s not a denial,” Yuna gasped dramatically from the couch.
Ryujin immediately wandered toward the kitchen afterward like she owned the floor before opening the fridge casually, without even looking back— “Ben snores”. The room immediately exploded. “YOU SLEPT OVER?!” Yuna nearly folded sideways laughing. “That sounds significantly worse out loud,” I muttered while rubbing lightly at my forehead. Meanwhile Chaeryeong looked genuinely scandalized now.
“You disappeared for an entire day!” “That sounds emotionally clingy.” “That’s because we WERE worried!” Chaeryeong protested immediately afterward.
Then finally Lia spoke for the first time “…Did you at least eat properly?” Lia wasn’t asking ‘where were you?’ She was watching behavior. Ryujin immediately glanced toward her afterward before smirking slightly “We ate”. That somehow made the atmosphere worse. Yuna immediately pointed toward both of us afterward.
“Nope. Nope. Something weird happened.” “That sounds vaguely threatening.” “You BOTH look suspicious.”
Ryujin meanwhile looked entirely too relaxed while leaning against the kitchen counter now drinking directly from a juice bottle she absolutely didn’t buy herself “…Yeji unnie already told us where you guys went.” I slowly looked toward Yeji afterward. She had a very dangerous eye contact. Because Yeji was watching me carefully now. Not upset or angry. She was just reading me. That somehow felt significantly more terrifying. Then finally Yuna narrowed her eyes dramatically afterward.
“…Wait.” “Why are BOTH of you blushing now?” “I’m not blushing,” I answered immediately. “You answered too fast,” Ryujin added helpfully.
Yuna gasped loudly afterward like she’d uncovered state secrets.
“Oh my god SOMETHING happened.” “That sounds emotionally speculative.” “That sounds CORRECT.”
Meanwhile Lia quietly took another sip of coffee while visibly trying not to smile now. Then eventually Chaeryeong tilted her head slightly while looking toward Ryujin “…Why do you look so happy?” Because Ryujin actually paused for half a second. Then slowly— the corner of her mouth curved faintly upward afterward “Maybe I just had a good weekend”. And then before I could psychologically prepare myself— Ryujin casually walked past me afterward and pressed a quick kiss against my cheek.
The entire room froze. Professionally devastating even. I stared at her slowly afterward. “…What the hell was that?” Ryujin shrugged casually while walking toward the hallway.
“Emotional support.” “You are a horrible person.” “That sounds emotionally biased.”
Behind us? Yuna was losing her entire mind. Chaeryeong looked seconds away from spontaneous collapse. Lia looked deeply unsurprised. And Yeji? She didn’t react with jealousy. Instead she looked directly at Ryujin and Ryujin looked back. One second. Maybe two. No hostility or competition. And somehow? That felt significantly more dangerous than if they had argued.
Later that night, the Top Floor had finally gone quiet again. Mostly. Somewhere farther down the hallway, Yuna was still loudly accusing Ryujin of “emotionally traumatizing the group” while Chaeryeong tried unsuccessfully to restore order. Meanwhile Lia had long since stopped pretending she didn’t know more than she was saying.
Wonderful environment to professionally survive in.
I leaned farther back into the couch inside my room afterward while staring blankly at the ceiling. The exhaustion finally settling properly now. Not just physical. Mental too. Because somehow over the course of one weekend Ryujin had completely destroyed the remaining illusion of emotional distance, Yeji silently acknowledged it, Lia was becoming increasingly dangerous, and the ecosystem upstairs was now evolving faster than I could realistically control anymore.
Then eventually— my phone buzzed once beside me. Ryujin. Of course. I opened the message immediately “You survived” I stared at it for another second afterward before snorting quietly beneath my breath. Then another message arrived immediately after “Congrats”. I was still shaking my head lightly when the phone buzzed again a few moments later. Different name this time. Yeji.
The message itself was short. Simple. I’m coming to your room later.
YJ: Don’t fall asleep first :)
Somehow that message affected me significantly more than it probably should have. And honestly? That realization alone was psychologically concerning enough already.
Outside my room, I could still faintly hear Yuna yelling accusations at Ryujin somewhere down the hallway while Chaeryeong desperately attempted damage control. Meanwhile, somewhere in the middle of all that chaos— Yeji was still choosing me quietly. That felt like the most dangerous part of all.
