#minisoae

three months.

it's been three months of stolen glances across practice rooms, of fingers intertwining under restaurant tables, of goodnight texts that stretch into dawn. three months of minjeong being the perfect girlfriend— attentive, sweet, respectful to a fault. and you love her for it, you do. but there's this tension that's been building, a current of electricity that runs through every touch, every kiss that ends just before it deepens into something more.

tonight feels different though.

dinner was perfect. she'd taken you to this small italian place tucked away in gangnam, somewhere private where she didn't have to worry about cameras or fans.

now you're back at her apartment, the one she rarely uses but keeps for nights like these when she needs space from the dorms. the city lights filter through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything in a soft, amber glow.

"did you have fun?" minjeong asks, her voice soft as she steps closer. there's something tentative in the way she moves, like she's holding herself back.

"i always have fun with you," you reply, reaching up to take off her cap. her blonde hair falls messily around her face. god, she's beautiful. "minjeong... can i ask something?"

"hm?"

"why haven't we..." you trail off, feeling heat creep up your neck. it's not exactly an easy conversation to have.

but she knows what you mean. of course she does. her cheeks flush pink, and she looks away, teeth catching her bottom lip. "i... i didn't want to rush you. and i—" she hesitates, and you've never seen her look quite so vulnerable. "there's something i should probably tell you."

your heart hammers in your chest. "what is it?"

instead of answering, she takes your hand, guiding it down between your bodies until your palm presses against the front of her jeans. your breath catches. even through the denim, you can feel her— thick and half-hard already, the outline unmistakable.

"oh," you breathe out.

"i was scared you'd be... i don't know, surprised? freaked out?" minjeong's voice wavers, and there's genuine worry in her dark eyes. "i'm... i'm kind of..."

"…big?" you finish for her, and the word comes out more breathless than you intended. because she is. even not fully hard, you can tell she's significantly bigger than you'd expected, and fuck if that doesn't send a bolt of heat straight through you.

she nods, still looking nervous. "is that... is that okay?"

instead of answering with words, you kiss her. hard. your hands slide up into her hair, tugging slightly, and she gasps against your mouth. you use the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding against hers, swallowing the small whimper she makes.

"bedroom," you murmur against her lips. "now."

the walk to her bedroom is a blur of heated kisses and fumbling hands. she backs you up against the wall halfway there, her body pressed flush against yours, and you can feel how hard she's getting. it's impossible to miss the way her cock strains against her jeans, pressing insistently against your hip.

"mm, aegi," she whines, and the sound goes straight to your core. "i've wanted this for so long."

"me too," you gasp as her lips find your neck, sucking a mark just below your ear. "ah.. minjeong…”

you finally make it to the bedroom, and suddenly there's nervous energy crackling between you again. but you don't want her to overthink this, so you take control, gently pushing her to sit on the edge of the bed.

"let me," you say softly, dropping to your knees between her spread thighs.

"you don't have to— oh…" her protest dies as your hands work open her jeans. you help her lift her hips, dragging the denim down her legs along with her boxers, and—

holy shit.

minjeong's cock springs free, flushed and heavy, and she's huge. easily eight inches, thick enough that you're not sure your fingers would touch if you wrapped your hand around her. the head is dark pink, already leaking, and you watch mesmerized as it twitches under your gaze.

"…told you," she mumbles, sounding embarrassed, one hand moving to cover herself.

you catch her wrist. "you're perfect," you tell her, and mean it. "baby, you're so hot."

before she can respond, you lean forward and lick a stripe up the underside of her shaft. she makes this punched-out whimpering sound that's absolutely fucking delicious, her hips jerking involuntarily.

"s-sensitive," she gasps. "it's been so long, i—ah!"

you wrap your lips around the head, sucking gently, and her hand flies to your hair. not pushing, just holding on like she needs something to anchor herself to. you work more of her into your mouth, jaw stretching to accommodate her size, but there's no way you can take all of her. instead, you wrap your hand around the base, stroking what doesn't fit.

"oh god, oh fuck, jagiya, your mouth—" minjeong's babbling now, her voice high and whiny in a way that makes you clench around nothing. "feels so good, you feel so fucking good."

you pull off with a wet pop, still stroking her slowly. her cock is slick with your spit, throbbing in your grip. "i need you inside me," you tell her.

she actually whimpers at that, her cock twitching hard. "are you sure? i don't— i don't wanna hurt you."

"you won't," you promise, standing up and starting to strip off your clothes. her eyes track every movement, dark and hungry, her hand moving unconsciously to stroke herself. "i want it. want you. all of you."

once you're naked, you grab a condom from her nightstand, because of course responsible minjeong has them ready, and roll it down her length. she hisses at the contact, her abs tensing under her shirt. which reminds you…

"shirt off," you command softly, and she obeys immediately, pulling the polo over her head and tossing it aside.

she's gorgeous. pale skin, subtle muscle definition, small breasts with pink nipples already hard. you run your hands over her stomach as you straddle her lap, feeling the way her muscles jump under your touch.

her cock is pressed between you now, hot and hard against your stomach, and you can feel yourself dripping onto her thighs. you're so wet already, have been since you first felt her in her jeans.

"ready?" you ask, rising up on your knees and positioning her at your entrance.

"yes, ah," she breathes, hands gripping your hips. "please, baby, i need— mm, i need you so bad."

you start to sink down slowly, and even though you're soaking wet, the stretch is intense. she's so fucking thick, splitting you open inch by inch, and you have to pause halfway, breathing through the overwhelming fullness.

"oh my god," minjeong whines, her eyes squeezed shut, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. "you're so tight, mmhmp, you feel incredible, i can't—"

"look at me," you command, and her eyes flutter open. they're completely blown out, more black than brown. "watch."

you place one of her hands on your lower stomach and continue sinking down, taking more of her, and when you press her palm flat, both of you can feel it— the distinct bulge of her cock pushing up against your belly from the inside.

"fuck!" minjeong's whole body shudders, her hips jerking up involuntarily, pushing the last few inches into you. "ohfuckohfuck, i can feel— you're so—"

you cry out at the sudden fullness, at the feeling of being completely stuffed with her. she's so deep you swear you can feel her in your throat. you sit there for a moment, both of you panting, adjusting to the sensation.

"you okay?" she manages to ask through gritted teeth, though she looks like she's barely holding onto her control.

"so okay," you assure her, starting to rock your hips slowly. "so so okay. you feel amazing, minjeong."

she whimpers again, that high needy sound that you're quickly becoming addicted to. "can you— oh god— can you move? please?"

you start to ride her properly, rising up until just the tip remains inside before sinking back down. slowly at first, then gradually picking up pace. every time you drop down, you both can see and feel the bulge in your stomach, her cock so big it's visible from the outside.

"look at you," you breathe, covering her hand on your belly with your own. "look how deep you are. you're in so deep, baby."

"don't— ngh— don't say stuff like that," she whines, her free hand moving to your hip to help guide your movements. "gonna make me cum too fast."

but you can't help it. she's hitting spots inside you that you didn't even know existed, pleasure radiating through your entire body with each thrust. "you fill me up so good," you tell her, speeding up your movements. "your cock is so big, minjeong. so perfect."

she's falling apart beneath you, her cool idol composure completely shattered. she's whining with every breath, her hips jerking up to meet yours, chasing her pleasure desperately. "please, please, i'm so close already, you feel too good, i can't—"

"touch me," you gasp, and her thumb immediately finds your clit, rubbing quick circles that make you clench around her. "fuck, yes, just like that."

the combination of her cock stretching you open, the visible bulge in your stomach, and her fingers on your clit is rapidly pushing you toward the edge. you can feel your thighs starting to shake, your rhythm getting erratic.

"gonna cum," you warn her. "fuck, minjeong, you're gonna make me cum."

"please," she whines, and she sounds absolutely desperate. "please cum on my cock, wanna feel it, wanna feel you—ah!"

your orgasm hits you like a wave, pleasure crashing through your body as you clench rhythmically around her. you can feel yourself gushing, making a mess of her thighs, and the way she whimpers tells you she can feel every flutter of your walls around her cock.

"i'm— i can't— jagiya, i'm cumming," she gasps out, her hips stuttering up into you one last time before she's spilling into the condom with a long, drawn-out whine. you can feel her cock pulsing inside you, can feel the bulge in your stomach as she fills the condom with what must be a massive load based on how long she keeps cumming.

finally, she collapses back against the bed, pulling you down with her. you're both breathing hard, sweaty and satisfied, her cock still buried inside you.

"so," you say after you've caught your breath. "that's what we've been waiting three months for?"

she laughs, the sound slightly breathless, and you feel it where you're still connected. "was it worth the wait?"

you clench around her deliberately, making her gasp and whimper. "definitely. though i think we have a lot of time to make up for."

her cock twitches inside you, apparently already interested in round two despite just finishing. she smiles up at you, blonde hair messy and lips kiss-swollen.

you're supposed to be sleeping.

that's what the schedule taped to the dorm fridge says, anyway. lights out at eleven, wake up at five thirty for hair and makeup before the morning show appearance. but it's one forty three in the morning and your phone is buzzing against the nightstand, screen lighting up with aeri's name, and you already know what this means.

come here

two words. no question mark, because it's not really a question.

you stare at the ceiling of your dark bedroom, counting the glow in the dark stars that the previous trainee stuck up there years ago. some of them are peeling at the edges. you wonder if you should feel something more than this hollow anticipation, this pavlovian response that's already making your stomach flip and your thighs press together.

the phone buzzes again.

don't make me wait

you're up before you can talk yourself out of it, padding across the cold hardwood in your sleep shorts and oversized t-shirt, bare feet silent against the floor. the dorm is quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator and someone's muffled footsteps which probably belong to minjeong, who liked to wander at night over to jimin unnie’s room.

aeri's door is cracked open. of course it is. she knew you'd come.

"took you long enough," she says when you slip inside, and there's that smile, the one that's more of a smirk and makes you forget why this might be a catastrophically bad idea. she's sprawled across her bed in nothing but an oversized hoodie and underwear, legs crossed at the ankle, looking like some sort of renaissance painting titled devastation or the fall of common sense.

"i was asleep," you lie, closing the door with a soft click.

"mmm, liar." aeri uncrosses her legs slowly, deliberately. "you were staring at your phone trying to convince yourself not to come. but here you are."

she's not wrong. she's never wrong, not about this, not about the way she's managed to burrow under your skin like a splinter you can't quite reach.

"yah, don't just stand there." she pats the space beside her. "come here."

you cross the small room, hyper-aware of how your heart is already racing, how your skin feels too tight. the mattress dips under your weight as you sit, careful to leave space between you— space she immediately closes by swinging a leg over your lap, straddling you with the casual confidence of someone who knows exactly what she wants and exactly how to get it.

"hi," she breathes, and her hands find your shoulders, thumbs pressing into the tension there. "missed me?"

"i saw you like three hours ago."

"not what i asked."

her face is so close you can spot the scar under her eye that she covers with concealer on the daily, see the way her pupils are already blown wide. she smells like expensive vanilla hand cream and something uniquely her, something that makes your brain go static and stupid.

"you're needy tonight," you murmur, fingers finding her waist automatically, slipping under the hem of her hoodie to find bare skin. warm. soft.

"and you're chatty." aeri rolls her hips once, slow and deliberate, and your breath catches. "i don't need conversation, aegiya. i need your mouth."

there it is. that switch that flips, that makes everything else fall away— the exhaustion, the schedule tomorrow, the tiny voice in the back of your head that sounds suspiciously like your own common sense, screaming that this is going to hurt eventually.

"you’re really demanding, unnie.." you say, but your hands are already sliding up her sides, thumbs brushing the underside of her ribs.

"you like it." she's not wrong. "don't you wanna be good for me? don't you wanna make me feel good?"

and fuck, there they are. those magic words. the ones that make you nod like the trained puppy you've become, eager and pathetic and so far gone it's almost funny.

"that's what i thought." aeri's smile is sharp as she cups your face, tilts your chin up. "you've gotten so good at this, you know. like you were made for it, made to please me."

your stomach does something complicated, something that might be pride or shame or arousal all twisted together until you can't tell them apart. she's kissing you before you can analyze it further, tongue sliding against yours with practiced ease, and your hands are already pulling her closer, feeling the way she melts and sharpens at the same time.

aeri kisses like she's trying to consume you, all tongue and teeth and barely restrained desperation. she bites your bottom lip hard enough to sting, soothes it with her tongue, then does it again because she knows it makes you whimper.

"mm," she pulls back just enough to breathe, pupils blown wide, lips already swollen. "lay down. now."

you barely have time to process before she's climbing off your lap and pulling you up, pushing you toward the headboard with surprising strength for someone her size. you go willingly, because of course you do, settling against the pillows as she hooks her fingers into her underwear and slides them down her legs with agonizing slowness.

"see how wet i am already? it's a good thing, pabo." she asks, and it's not really a question. she climbs back onto the bed, spreads her legs so you can see, and christ, she is. glistening and flushed and perfect. "been thinking about your tongue all day. during practice, during that meeting, during dinner— just thinking about how good you are, how well i've trained you."

the words should probably bother you. later, when you're alone in your own bed, they will. but right now they just make you clench around nothing, make you lean forward eagerly as she positions herself over your face.

"you remember what i taught you?" aeri's looking down at you, fingers threading through your hair. "start slow, don't rush, and let me cum when i want."

"yes," you breathe, and then she's lowering herself onto your mouth and you're gone.

you do remember what she taught you. how could you forget? every lesson is burned into your memory— the way she likes it when you flatten your tongue and lick broad stripes first, warming her up, making her squirm. the way she gasps when you finally, finally let your tongue circle her clit, light, teasing.

"mmhmm, just like that," aeri's voice is already breathy, thighs tensing on either side of your head. "good girl. my good fucking girl..."

you hum against her and she jerks, fingers tightening in your hair almost painfully. you've learned this too—that she likes a little pain with her pleasure, likes to be in control but also likes when you surprise her, when you push back just enough.

so you suck her clit into your mouth, hard, and she makes this sound, halfway between a gasp and a moan, that goes straight to your core.

"yah, i said slow," but there's no real reprimand in her voice, just pleasure, just need. her hips are already moving, grinding against your face, and you let her use you like this, let her take what she needs while you work your tongue against her in the patterns she's drilled into you over weeks and weeks of nights just like this.

you've become an expert at reading her body. the way her thighs start to shake means you're doing it right. the way her breathing gets shallow and rapid means she's close. the way she pulls your hair means harder, faster, more.

"inside," she pants now, and you obey immediately, sliding your tongue into her while your nose presses against her clit, giving her the friction she's seeking. she tastes like salt and something sweeter, something you've developed an almost addiction to, something that makes you press your own thighs together seeking relief you know you won't get.

this isn't about you. it's never about you.

aeri rides your face with increasing desperation, using your mouth like her personal toy, and you let her, holding her hips to keep her steady, tongue working inside her while she grinds down. you can barely breathe but it doesn't matter— this matters, making her feel good matters, being what she needs matters.

"fingers," she demands, and you slide two into her without missing a beat, crooking them just the way she taught you, finding that spot that makes her whole body go taut. your mouth finds her clit again, sucking and licking while you pump your fingers, matching the rhythm to her movements.

"fuck, fuck, right there—" aeri's voice is high and breathy now, control slipping, and this is your favorite part. when she stops being the cool, collected dancer and becomes this— desperate and needy and falling apart above you. "don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop—"

you don't. you keep the exact same pace, the exact same pressure, tongue working her clit while your fingers curl inside her, and you feel it when she tips over, the way her whole body goes rigid, thighs clamping around your head, the gush of wetness against your fingers as she comes with a broken moan that she barely manages to muffle.

you work her through it, gentler now, letting her ride out the aftershocks until she's pushing weakly at your head, oversensitive and spent.

"holy shit," she pants in clear, breathy english, climbing off your face and collapsing beside you on the bed. her chest is heaving, skin flushed, hair a mess. she looks beautiful. she always looks beautiful, but especially like this— undone in ways the cameras never see.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, trying to ignore the aching between your own legs, the way your whole body is thrumming with unspent tension.

"good?" you ask, even though you know the answer.

"so good, aegi." aeri turns her head to look at you, eyes soft in a way that makes your chest hurt. "you're getting too good at this… gonna ruin me for everyone else."

your heart does something stupid and hopeful, and you hate yourself for it.

"hey, don't look at me like that," she says, but there's amusement in her voice. she reaches out, thumb brushing your bottom lip. "you know what this is, right? we're friends. good friends. friends who help each other out."

"right," you say, and your voice sounds normal even though something inside you is cracking. "friends."

"exactly." aeri sits up, stretching languidly, and you try not to stare at the way her hoodie rides up, exposing the smooth expanse of her stomach. "you're such a good friend, the best bandmate, baby."

she says it like a compliment. you hear it like a dismissal.

"you should get back to your room," aeri continues, glancing at her phone. "it's almost two-thirty. you need sleep."

and just like that, you're being dismissed. used and discarded until the next time she's horny and texts you those two words. come here.

you should say no. you should tell her that friends don't do this, that she's fucking with your head, that you can't keep pretending this doesn't mean more to you than it does to her.

instead, you stand up, smooth down your shirt, and head for the door.

"hey," aeri calls when your hand is on the doorknob. you turn back, stupid hope fluttering in your chest again.

she's smiling at you, soft and genuine and completely unaware of the devastation she's causing. "thanks. you're really... you're really good to me."

"yeah," you say quietly. "anytime."

and you mean it. that's the worst part. you mean it.

the hallway is dark and cold and you pad back to your room like a ghost, slipping under your covers and staring at those peeling glow in the dark stars. your lips still taste like her. your heart still feels like it's being squeezed in a vice.

in the morning, aeri will smile at you over breakfast like nothing happened. she'll steal food off your plate and complain about being tired and be completely, casually normal. and you'll smile back and pretend you're normal too, pretend you don't feel like you're slowly being hollowed out from the inside.

but tonight, you're allowed this. the ache. the wanting. the quiet devastation of being someone's good girl and nothing more.

you close your eyes and try to sleep, knowing that the next time your phone buzzes with those two words, you'll go running.

you always do.

…

uchinaga aeri doesn't get jealous.

that's what she tells herself as she watches you from across the practice room, sprawled against the mirrored wall with a water bottle pressed to her flushed neck. she doesn't get jealous because that would imply she has something to be jealous about, and this thing with you— it's not like that. it's casual… convenient… just two friends helping each other out.

except you're laughing.

really laughing, the kind that throws your head back and crinkles your eyes, the kind that makes your whole face light up like someone plugged you into an electrical socket. and it's not because of something aeri said. it's because of her— the new choreographer, kim fucking soyeon, with her perfectly sculpted dancer's body and her effortless charisma and the way she's standing just a little too close to you right now.

"unnie, you good?" minjeong asks, plopping down beside her. "you look like you're plotting murder."

"i'm fine," aeri says through her teeth, taking a long drink of water that does nothing to cool the heat rising in her chest.

practice ended fifteen minutes ago. fifteen minutes that aeri has spent watching you hang back, watching you and soyeon chat by the sound system, watching the choreographer's hand touch your arm as she demonstrates something, watching you mirror the movement with that eager attentiveness you usually reserve for…for what? for her? when she's teaching you how to make her cum?

aeri's jaw clenches so hard it hurts.

"you're totally not fine," minjeong observes, following her gaze. "oh. oh."

"don't."

"i'm just saying—"

"minjeong-ah, i will literally kill you."

minjeong holds up her hands in surrender, but there's a knowing look in her eyes that makes aeri want to scream. because minjeong knows. maybe they all know, even if no one talks about it—the nights when you slip into aeri's room and don't come out until dawn, the way aeri watches you sometimes with something that looks uncomfortably like hunger.

soyeon says something that makes you laugh again, and this time you actually reach out and touch her shoulder, steady yourself against her, and aeri sees red.

"i'm gonna—" aeri stands abruptly, grabbing her bag.

"don't do anything stupid," minjeong calls after her, but aeri's already halfway to the door, to the dorms, to anywhere that isn't here watching you be genuinely, effortlessly happy with someone who isn't her.

the dorm is empty when aeri gets back. the others are still at the company building—yizhuo had a recording session, minjeong was reviewing footage with the video team. which means when you finally walk through the door forty-five minutes later, still smiling at your phone, probably texting that fucking choreographer, there's no buffer. no witnesses.

just aeri, sitting in the dark living room like some sort of villain from a drama, waiting.

"jesus christ," you gasp when you see her, hand flying to your chest. "you scared the shit out of me. why are you sitting in the dark like a serial killer?"

"who were you texting?" aeri asks, voice flat.

"what?" you're still backlit by the hallway, face half in shadow, and aeri can't read your expression.

"your phone. who were you texting?"

there's a pause. you step fully into the living room, and aeri watches your smile fade into confusion. "soyeon-nim was just sending me some youtube links. videos of other choreographers she thinks i'd like. why?"

soyeon-nim. so formal. so respectful. so fucking cozy.

"you stayed back pretty late," aeri says, and she knows she sounds insane, knows she's being irrational, but something ugly and possessive is clawing up her throat and she can't stop it. "must have been some conversation."

"aeri, what—" you're looking at her like she's grown a second head, and that just makes it worse. "are you... are you mad at me right now?"

"should i be?" aeri stands, crosses her arms. "you tell me."

"i literally have no idea what's happening right now." you set your bag down slowly, carefully, like you're approaching a wild animal. "we finished practice, soyeon-nim asked if i wanted to look at some of the reference material for next week's choreography, and we talked. that's it. that's literally it."

"you seemed really comfortable with her."

"she's our choreographer. i'm supposed to be comfortable with her."

"you don't touch me like that."

the words are out before aeri can stop them, and the silence that follows is deafening.

your expression shifts then—confusion melting into something harder, something that glints like a knife's edge. "i don't touch you like that," you repeat slowly, "because you've made it very clear what i'm allowed to touch you for. or did you forget?"

"that's not—"

"no, please, explain it to me." you're advancing now, and there's an anger in your voice aeri's never heard before, sharp and cutting and aimed directly at her. "explain how i'm supposed to act. because apparently, i can have my face between your legs three times a week, but god forbid i laugh with someone else. god forbid i have a normal fucking conversation with someone who doesn't treat me like a—" you stop yourself, jaw working.

"like a what?" aeri challenges, something reckless rising in her chest. "say it."

"like a toy!" you explode, and aeri flinches. "like something you can use when you're horny and put away when you're done! and i let you, like a fucking idiot, i let you because i thought—" your voice cracks and you look away, hands curling into fists. "it doesn't matter what i thought."

aeri's heart is pounding. the anger is still there but it's mixing with something else now, something that feels dangerously like panic. "yah, you knew what this was. i told you from the beginning—"

"friends, right?" you laugh, and it's bitter and wrong. "friends who fuck. friends who help each other out. i know the script, aeri. you've made sure i know it. every single time after you cum, you remind me. 'don't get the wrong idea.' 'this doesn't mean anything.' 'we're just friends.'"

"because we are—"

"then why the fuck do you care who i talk to?!" you're yelling now, really yelling, and tears are streaming down your face and aeri feels like the ground is crumbling beneath her feet. "why does it matter if soyeon makes me laugh? if she touches my arm? if i have chemistry with someone else? friends don't get jealous, aeri. friends don't act like they own you while simultaneously making sure you know you mean nothing to them!"

"you mean—" aeri starts, then stops, because the words are stuck in her throat, sharp and terrifying.

"what?" your eyes are blazing, wet with tears but fierce. "i mean what? tell me. for once in your life, be fucking honest with me."

and aeri wants to. god, she wants to. wants to say you mean everything, you're all i think about, i'm terrified of how much i need you. but the words won't come because they're too big, too real, too fucking vulnerable.

"this is exactly what i'm talking about," you say when the silence stretches too long. your voice is quieter now, exhausted. "you want me available, want me desperate for you, want me to come running whenever you text. but the second i might want something more, might expect something more, you shut down. you remind me of my place. which is on my knees or in your bed or nowhere at all."

"that's not fair," aeri whispers.

"nothing about this is fair!" you wipe at your face angrily. "i have spent months being whatever you need me to be. your stress relief. your secret. your well-trained little puppy who performs on command. and i did it— i do it because i'm stupidly, pathetically in love with you. and you know it. you've always known it."

the words hang in the air between you like a grenade with the pin pulled.

aeri's chest is so tight she can barely breathe. "you're... you can't..."

"can't what? can't love you?" you laugh again, sharp and broken. "trust me, i've tried not to. but you make it really fucking hard when you look at me the way you do sometimes. when you hold me after and play with my hair and smile like i'm something precious. and then in the morning, you act like i'm nothing, and i'm supposed to just—what? pretend my heart isn't breaking? pretend i don't die a little every time you dismiss me?"

"i never asked you to fall in love with me," aeri says, and she knows immediately it's the wrong thing, knows it from the way your face crumples and then goes carefully, horribly blank.

"you're right," you say quietly. "you didn't. that's my mistake. just like thinking tonight that maybe, maybe, if i showed interest in someone else, you might realize—" you shake your head. "doesn't matter. i get it now."

"get what?" aeri's voice sounds strange, distant.

"that you don't want me. not really. you want what i can give you. the orgasms, the devotion, the ego boost. but me? the actual person? you don't want that. you've made that very clear."

"that's not true," aeri protests, but it sounds weak even to her own ears.

"then what do you want?" you ask, and you sound so tired, so defeated. "because i can't keep doing this. i can't keep being your dirty little secret that you're ashamed of in the daylight. i can't keep watching you flirt with backup dancers and actors and whoever else while i'm supposed to sit there and smile and be grateful for the scraps of attention you give me behind closed doors."

"i'm not—i don't—" aeri's thoughts are a mess, panic and anger and fear all tangled together. "why does everything have to change? why can't it just stay the way it is?"

"because the way it is, is killing me!" your voice breaks on the last word. "can't you see that? every time you touch me and then push me away, every time you use me and then remind me it doesn't mean anything—it kills me a little more. and tonight, for the first time in months, i had a conversation with someone who made me feel normal. who made me feel like a person and not just a—a service you've subscribed to. and even that, you can't let me have. even that, you have to ruin with your jealousy that you won't even admit to feeling."

aeri feels like she's been slapped. "i'm not jealous."

"you're a liar," you say flatly. "you're a liar and a coward, and i'm done."

the words land like a physical blow. "what do you mean, done?"

"i mean i'm done with this. with us. with whatever the fuck this arrangement is." you're backing toward the hallway now, toward your room. "you don't get to have me anymore, aeri. not like this. not when it's destroying me."

panic claws at aeri's throat. "wait—"

"no," you cut her off, and your voice is firm despite the tears still tracking down your face. "i waited. i waited for you to see me, to want me as more than just someone to fuck. but you don't. and i can't—i won't—keep hoping you'll change your mind. i deserve better than this. than you."

the words hit like bullets, each one finding its mark.

"so that's it?" aeri asks, and she hates how small her voice sounds. "you're just giving up?"

"i'm not giving up," you say quietly. "i'm letting go. there's a difference."

you turn toward the hallway, and aeri's body moves before her brain catches up, hand shooting out to grab your wrist. "don't. please."

you look down at where aeri's fingers are wrapped around your wrist, then back up at her face. "why not? give me one good reason why i should stay."

because i need you. because i'm terrified of losing you. because maybe i'm in love with you too and i'm too fucked up to admit it.

but the words stay locked in aeri's chest, trapped behind years of walls and defense mechanisms and fear of vulnerability.

"that's what i thought," you say when the silence stretches too long. you pull your wrist free gently, carefully. "goodnight, aeri."

aeri stands frozen in the living room as you walk away, watches you disappear into your bedroom, hears the quiet click of your door closing. not a slam. somehow, the gentleness of it is worse.

she stands there for a long time, staring at your closed door, waiting for something. for you to come back out. for the words to finally come. for the courage to knock and tell you everything she's too scared to say.

but she just stands there, paralyzed, as the truth settles over her like a suffocating blanket: she is jealous. she is a coward. and she's just lost the best thing in her life because she was too afraid to admit she wanted it.

from somewhere in the dorm, she hears a muffled sound—maybe a sob, maybe nothing.

aeri slides down the wall until she's sitting on the floor, head in her hands, and for the first time in years, she lets herself cry.

because you're right. you've always been right.

the cafeteria noise fades into white static when minhee's perfectly manicured nails dig into your shoulder, spinning you around with enough force to make your books scatter across the linoleum floor.

"watch where you're going, eoriborihada," she sneers, her posse giggling behind her like trained hyenas. your cheeks burn as students pause their conversations to watch the show. minhee's about to say something else when a sharp voice cuts through the tension.

"minhee. back the fuck off."

giselle approaches with that signature walk. hips swaying, expression bored, but her dark eyes are absolutely lethal. she looks devastating in her uniform, skirt rolled up just enough to break dress code, her tie loose around her neck.

"but, i was just—"

"i don't remember asking you to speak." giselle's voice drops to something dangerously quiet. "and i definitely don't remember giving you permission to bother her."

the cafeteria goes silent. minhee's face flushes crimson as she steps back, stammering apologies that giselle doesn't acknowledge. instead, she crouches down, gathering your books with careful precision before grabbing your wrist and pulling you through the crowd.

you barely register the journey until she's shoving you into an empty classroom, locking the door behind her. the click echoes in the silence.

"unnie, i—"

"shh." she presses a finger to your lips, tilting her head as she studies you. "did she hurt you, puppy?"

your heart hammers against your ribs as you shake your head. giselle's touch gentles, her thumb brushing across your cheekbone with unexpected tenderness.

"good. because you know the rules, don't you baby?" her voice dips into that husky register that makes your knees weak. "you're my puppy. mine to tease, mine to play with, mine to ruin." she backs you against the teacher's desk, her body pressing flush against yours. "say it."

"i'm... i'm yours, unnie."

"mmm, that's my good girl." her lips ghost along your jaw, leaving fire in their wake. "but i don't think you really understand what that means yet. maybe i need to remind you who you belong to."

giselle's hand slides beneath your skirt, fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh that make you gasp. she smirks against your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

"so reactive for me already," she murmurs, popping open the button of your blouse with practiced ease. "i barely have to touch you and you're trembling like a little puppy waiting for attention."

"unnie, please..."

"please what?" she pulls back to look at you, eyes dark with desire. "use your words, baby. beg properly."

"please touch me," you whimper, and the satisfaction that crosses her face is absolutely wicked.

she hikes you onto the desk, pushing your skirt up around your waist. her fingers hook into your underwear, dragging them down your legs before tucking them into her blazer pocket. 

"these are mine now too," she says matter-of-factly, dropping to her knees between your thighs. the sight of her looking up at you from that position, all sharp eyeliner and dangerous beauty. it nearly makes you come undone right there.

giselle spreads you open with her thumbs, admiring you like you're art. "such a pretty pussy," she breathes, and then her mouth is on you and a coherent thought becomes impossible.

she devours you like she's starving, tongue working in languid strokes that have you gripping the edge of the desk hard enough to hurt. when she seals her lips around your clit and sucks, your hand flies to her hair, tangling in the silky strands.

"ah, unnie!" the honorific tumbles from your lips in a desperate keen, and you feel her moan against your core, the vibration pushing you closer to the edge.

she slides two fingers inside you, curling them expertly as her tongue continues its relentless assault. the wet sounds are obscene in the quiet classroom, mixing with your breathy whimpers and her satisfied hums.

"look at you," giselle pulls back just enough to speak, her lips glistening. "falling apart so beautifully for me. is this what you needed? to be reminded that this sweet cunt belongs to me?"

"yes.. yes, aeri unnie, i'm yours—"

"damn right you are." she redoubles her efforts, fingers pumping faster as her mouth works you with devastating precision. the tension coils impossibly tight in your lower belly, and when she adds a third finger and crooks them just right, you shatter.

your hips buck off the desk as you reach your orgasm, giselle's name falling from your lips like a prayer. she works you through it, gentling her touches as you come down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs.

when she stands, she brings her fingers to your mouth. "clean them," she commands, and you obey without hesitation, tasting yourself on her skin while maintaining eye contact. "such a good puppy."

she kisses you then, slow and thorough, claiming your mouth with the same intensity she'd shown between your legs. when she finally pulls away, she cups your face with both hands, expression softening into something almost vulnerable.

"you understand now, don't you?" her thumb traces your swollen bottom lip. "no one gets to touch you, hurt you, or even look at you wrong. because you're mine to protect, mine to care for." she kisses your forehead, so gentle it makes your chest ache. "mine to love."

"i promise. i'm only yours."

"that's my sweet girl." giselle helps you down from the desk, fixing your clothes with careful attention. she straightens your tie, smooths down your skirt, buttons your blouse with tender gestures that contrast sharply with the person everyone else sees.

before unlocking the door, she pulls you close one more time, nuzzling into your neck. "and puppy? next time someone bothers you, you come straight to me. okay?"

"okay, unnie."

she presses one last kiss to your temple, then her mask slides back into place.

cold, untouchable, mean girl extraordinaire. 

you've known kim minjeong since you were seven years old.

back then, she was the quiet girl who sat in the corner of your second-grade classroom, the one with her nose always buried in a book during recess while the other kids played tag in the schoolyard. you'd approached her one spring afternoon because you'd forgotten your lunch and she was the only one who looked like she wouldn't laugh at you for it. instead, she'd silently split her gimbap in half and offered you the bigger piece without a word.

that was eighteen years ago, and somehow, you're still in each other's lives.

minjeong grew up to be beautiful in that understated way. the kind of pretty that sneaks up on people. sharp jawline, soft features, cute chubby cheeks, expressive eyes that crinkle when she smiles. she's always been on the quieter side, a little shy, a little reserved. but around you? she's different, comfortable, real.

she works as a freelance graphic designer now, which means she sets her own hours and spends most of her time in oversized hoodies, sitting in cafes with her macbook and an iced americano. you went into marketing, which is how you ended up at the same coffee shop in hongdae on a random tuesday afternoon when your life started to unravel just a little bit.

"you look stressed," minjeong said as she slid into the seat across from you, her curly hair pulled back into a messy half-updo. she was wearing a black leather jacket over a blue crop top, the outfit somehow both edgy and effortless.

you groaned, dropping your phone onto the table. "my cousin's wedding is in two weeks."

"okay?"

"and my mom won't stop asking if i'm bringing someone."

minjeong took a long sip of her coffee, eyebrows raised slightly. "well… are you?"

"no. obviously not. i haven't dated anyone in like a year." you rubbed your temples. "but she's convinced i'm going to show up alone and embarrass the family or whatever. she keeps trying to set me up with her friends' sons. it's a nightmare."

"so bring someone."

"who? all my friends are busy or already coupled up."

there was a pause.

minjeong tilted her head, studying you with those dark, thoughtful eyes. then she shrugged, so casual it almost seemed rehearsed. "i'll go with you."

you blinked. "what?"

"i said i'll go. pretend to be your girlfriend. it's not like i have anything else going on, and honestly?" she smiled a little, that rare flash of mischief crossing her face. "i'm kind of bored."

your heart did this stupid little flip in your chest, which was ridiculous because this was kim minjeong. your childhood best friend. the girl who once cried because she accidentally stepped on a snail. the girl who knew every embarrassing thing about you and still chose to stick around.

"you... you'd really do that?"

"yeah. why not?" she leaned back in her chair, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "besides, it might be fun. i've never been to a wedding as someone's fake girlfriend before."

"minjeong—"

"just say yes. you need a date, i need something to do. it's perfect."

and that's how you ended up here, two weeks later, standing outside the shilla hotel in seoul with minjeong beside you, looking absolutely devastating in a tailored black suit that hugged her frame in all the right places. her hair was styled in those loose curls you loved, tumbling past her shoulders. she'd done her makeup too— subtle but striking, with a hint of shimmer on her lids and a nude lip that made you stare a second too long.

"stop looking at me like that," she murmured, a faint blush creeping up her neck.

"like what?"

"like you're nervous. we're supposed to be dating, remember?"

right… dating. fake dating.

you took a breath and linked your arm through hers. her body was warm against yours, and you tried not to think about how natural it felt.

the wedding hall was gorgeous, all white flowers and golden accents, the kind of elegance that screamed old money. your relatives were already mingling, glasses of champagne in hand, and you could feel their eyes on you the second you walked in with minjeong.

"is that her?" your mom appeared almost instantly, her expression a mix of surprise and approval. "you didn't tell me you were seeing someone!"

"yeah, well... it's still pretty new," you said, feeling minjeong's hand settle on the small of your back.

"ah, hello, i'm kim minjeong," she said, bowing politely. her voice was soft, respectful. "it's nice to meet you, eomeoni."

your mom practically melted. "oh, she's so polite! and so pretty. how long have you two been together?"

"a few months," you lied smoothly, and minjeong nodded along, her thumb tracing idle circles against your spine through the fabric of your dress.

it should have felt wrong. it should have felt awkward.

instead, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

everything went smooth— the ceremony was beautiful, and you barely paid attention to it. you were too aware of minjeong sitting beside you, her thigh pressed against yours, her fingers occasionally brushing your hand where it rested on your lap, every touch felt deliberate, intentional.

during the reception, you were seated at a table with some of your cousins, all of whom were very interested in grilling minjeong about your relationship.

"so how did you two meet?" one of them asked.

"we've known each other since elementary school," minjeong said, smiling. "but we didn't start dating until recently."

"childhood friends to lovers? that's so cute!"

you felt your cheeks heat up, but minjeong just laughed, her hand finding yours under the table and squeezing gently.

later, after the toasts and the cake cutting, minjeong leaned close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"want to get out of here for a bit?"

your pulse quickened. "where?"

"our room. i need a break from all the questions."

you'd booked a suite at the hotel for the night. it seemed easier than driving back to seoul after the reception. the plan had been to just crash and deal with the aftermath of the fake dating ruse tomorrow.

but when minjeong looked at you like that, her eyes dark and unreadable, you found yourself nodding.

the hotel room was spacious, with a king-sized bed and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. minjeong kicked off her heels the second the door closed behind you, sighing in relief.

"thank god. those were killing me."

you laughed, setting your clutch on the dresser. "you did great today, by the way. so very convincing."

"yeah?" she turned to face you, and there was something different in her expression now. something bolder. "i had a good time. your family's really sweet."

"they loved you."

"and you?" she took a step closer. "did you love me?"

the question hung in the air between you, weighted with something unspoken. you just smiled and nodded.

"of course.”

"we should practice," she said suddenly.

"practice what?"

"kissing." her cheeks flushed, but she held your gaze. "i mean, we're supposed to be dating, right? what if someone expects us to kiss in public? we should make sure it looks real."

your mouth went dry. "you want to practice kissing..?”

"only if you want to." she bit her lip, nervous now, that shy side of her creeping back in. "we don't have to. i just thought—"

you cut her off before she could finish the sentence.

"i want to," you breathed, the words tumbling out before you could overthink them. "practice with me, minjeong."

her eyes darkened instantly, that shy nervousness melting into something hotter but still gentle. she stepped forward until your back hit the edge of the bed, her body pressing softly into yours.

"okay," she whispered, voice husky yet tender. "just practice."

but the moment her lips touched yours, it was anything but practice. the kiss was slow at first, tentative and sweet, her soft full lips moving gently against yours, tasting like the champagne from the reception. then you sighed into her mouth and she lost it just a little, her tongue sliding in shyly at first, then deeper, tasting you with quiet hunger, one hand tangling carefully in your hair while the other rested on your waist.

you moaned softly, hands fisting in her black suit jacket, pulling her closer. her wild curly hair tickled your cheeks as she tilted her head, kissing you harder, more desperately.

"ah," she gasped when you broke for air, her forehead resting against yours, a deep blush staining her cheeks. "you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that... is this okay?"

her hands started roaming, sliding down your sides, squeezing your ass through your dress with gentle firmness before slipping under the hem. her fingers traced up your thighs, teasing the edge of your panties.

"you're already so wet," she murmured against your neck, nipping at the skin softly. "all from a little kissing? so pretty... you're doing so well for me."

she pushed you back onto the bed gently, crawling over you. her curls cascaded down around you like a curtain as she kissed you again, deeper this time, her touch still careful but in control. one hand pushed your dress up around your hips while the other tugged your panties aside.

two fingers slid through your soaked folds, circling your clit slowly before dipping lower. she pushed them inside you in one smooth thrust, curling them perfectly against that spot that made your back arch off the bed.

"minjeong— ah, fuck," you moaned, hips bucking up into her hand.

"shh, jagiya," she cooed softly, pumping her fingers faster, her thumb rubbing tight, gentle circles on your clit. "let me take care of you. been dreaming about how tight you'd feel around my fingers... it’s so good..."

she added a third finger, stretching you open deliciously, the wet, obscene sounds of her fingering your dripping cunt filling the hotel room. she was relentless but so soft, fucking you deep and steady, her mouth moving to your neck, sucking marks into your skin while her free hand pinned your wrist above your head with tender pressure.

"so tight for me," she groaned, voice low and filthy but laced with affection. "your pussy is sucking my fingers in so greedily, baby… does that feel good? tell me, jagi.”

you were a mess, whimpering and grinding down on her hand, chasing every thrust. the pleasure built fast and sharp, her thumb pressing harder on your clit as she curled her fingers just right, her eyes never leaving your face.

"cum for me," she whispered hotly in your ear, her voice shaking just a little with her own shyness. "wanna feel this pretty pussy clench around my fingers. come on, let go for me... you can do it."

the orgasm hit you hard, walls fluttering and squeezing her fingers as pleasure crashed through you in waves. you cried out her name, thighs shaking around her wrist, soaking her hand and the sheets. she didn't stop, fucking you through it with slow, deep thrusts, whispering praises the whole time until you were trembling and oversensitive, whimpering into her mouth.

"that's it... such a good girl for me," she murmured, kissing your forehead softly as she finally slowed down.

she pulled her fingers out slowly, bringing them to her lips and sucking them clean with a quiet moan, eyes locked on yours the whole time, her blush still burning bright.

"taste so fucking good," she groaned, licking every drop off. "i could eat you for hours... if you want me to."

but she wasn't done. the lines had blurred completely, and neither of you wanted to stop. you slipped out of the reception early, claiming tiredness. minjeong led you straight to the parking lot, her hand never leaving yours, her fingers laced with yours shyly.

"my car's waiting," she said, voice still husky from earlier, a soft smile on her lips.

you barely made it into the backseat of her sleek black mercedes with the deep tinted windows before she was on you again, pushing you down and crawling over you, straddling your lap with gentle confidence.

"need you again, please," she pleaded softly, unzipping your dress with impatient but careful hands, her own suit jacket and shirt shoved aside in a hurry.

the car smelled like her perfume, leather, and the faint trace of soju from the reception. she kissed you deep and messy, tongues tangling as her fingers returned between your legs, three this time, thrusting in with purpose, curling perfectly while her hips ground down against your thigh.

you tugged at her wild curls, arching up into her, moaning her name loudly now that you were alone.

"cum for me again," she demanded, voice hoarse and filthy but still so soft. "soak my fingers like the good girl you are for me, baby. let me feel how much you want this... you're doing so perfect, jagi."

you shattered hard around her fingers, soaking her hand and the leather seat, thighs trembling uncontrollably.

but you flipped her, laying her back against the seat, mouth latching onto her nipple while your fingers explored her soaked folds. she was dripping, moaning your name in that breathy, shy voice.

"please, deeper," she gasped, hips bucking wildly, her hands gentle in your hair. "fuck me harder, jagi, i need it... please be good to me too."

you slid three fingers inside her, curling against that spot, thumb circling her clit in rhythm. her thighs shook around you, one hand gripping your hair, the other scratching down your back lightly as she rode your hand desperately.

when she came, it was intense. body tensing then melting with a broken cry of your name, curls splayed wildly across the seat, necklaces tangled between you both.

afterward, you both lay tangled, breathing hard, her head on your chest in the quiet of her tinted mercedes, the seoul night wrapping around you.

"this wasn't fake," she murmured, tracing patterns on your skin, voice soft but certain even as her cheeks stayed pink. "hasn't been for a long time. stay with me, yeah? for real this time... if you want to."

the air is thick with want when jimin finally gets you exactly where she wants you, spread out on her bed like an offering, skin flushed and breathing uneven. she's stripped herself bare too, and god, the sight of her makes your mouth go dry.

"unnie..." you whimper, reaching for her, but she catches your wrists with a knowing smile.

"patience, nae sarang," she purrs, and there's something deliciously wicked in the way her eyes trace over your naked form. her breasts sway slightly as she moves to position herself between your thighs, and you can't help but stare.

jimin notices, of course she does. "you like what you see, jagiya?"

you nod dumbly because what else can you do when confronted with such perfection? she laughs, low and sultry, and then she's lowering herself, and you think she's going to use her fingers or her mouth but instead…

"ah—!" the noise tears from your throat when you feel the soft, warm weight of her breast drag along your inner thigh, getting closer and closer to where you're absolutely dripping.

"yah," jimin chuckles, but her voice is breathier and deeper now too. "let unnie try something, hmm?"

and then she does it. she positions herself so that her breast, that gorgeous full handful of flesh, presses directly against your cunt, and the sensation is so unexpected, so uniquely arousing that your hips buck involuntarily.

"oh my god, unnie, what—" but the words die in your throat when she begins to move, dragging the soft weight of her breast along your folds, and her nipple— her hardened, perfect nipple— catches on your clit and you actually see stars.

"that's it, yeobo," jimin encourages, her own breathing growing ragged as she watches your face contort with pleasure. "feels good, doesn't it? me, all over your pretty pussy?"

it's absurd, really. the mechanics of it shouldn't work this well. but the soft drag of her flesh against your most sensitive parts, the way her nipple keeps catching and rolling over your clit, the sheer filth of what she's doing— it's intoxicating.

if there’s one thing to note about your girlfriend is that she is insanely skilled with these things.

she varies the pressure, sometimes pressing firmly so you can feel every inch of her breast molding against your heat, sometimes lighter, teasing, just her nipple tracing circles around your clit until you're writhing beneath her.

"unnie, please, mmpfh—" you're babbling now, one hand fisted in the sheets, the other reaching down to tangle in her hair.

"what is it, pretty girl?" she asks, but she knows. she can feel how your clit is throbbing against her nipple, how your arousal is coating her skin, making everything slick and obscene.

"gonna cum, unnie, i'm gonna cum from your—from this, oh fuck—"

jimin moans at that, the sound vibrating through her chest and somehow you swear you can feel it against your cunt. she increases the pace, rubbing her breast more firmly against you, making sure her nipple drags directly over your clit with every movement.

"then cum for me, nae sarang," she commands, voice thick with arousal. "cum all over unnie's chest. want to feel how wet you get."

and that's literally all it takes. the combination of her words, the relentless stimulation of her breast and nipple against your oversensitive flesh, the sheer depravity of it all… you shatter. your orgasm crashes through you with embarrassing speed, your back arching off the bed as you cry out her name, hips grinding shamelessly against her breast as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through you.

jimin works you through it, maintaining that perfect pressure until you're pushing at her shoulders, oversensitive and trembling. when she finally pulls back, her breast is glistening with your release, and the sight makes you whimper.

"look at the mess you made," she says, glancing down at herself with a satisfied smirk. "all from unnie's chest. didn't even need to touch your pretty clit with my fingers."

you can't even formulate words yet, still floating in post-orgasmic bliss, but jimin doesn't seem to mind. she crawls up your body, pressing kisses along your sweat-dampened skin.

“it was good, yes?” jimin asks, fondly playing with your hair as you caught your breath.

morning sunlight spills through sheer curtains, soft and colorless, like the air itself is holding its breath. you're awake before karina. again. you always are. and there’s a sort of private pleasure in it. watching her like this, undisturbed. fragile in the quiet way only people who are never truly soft manage to be when they sleep.

she’s on her side, half-curled toward you, blanket kicked down to her waist. her dark hair fans across the pillow in delicate disarray, strands catching the light, lips faintly parted in the gentlest, unintentional pout. her breath is steady and deep; a soft lull you’ve let comfort your ears.

however, you can’t help it. how could you? she’s laid out like she belongs on display, all wrapped up in a paper-thin white silk nightgown, the kind that clings in all the right and wrong places—the kind that’s begging for misbehavior.

one of the straps has fallen down her shoulder. her bare legs are tangled at the knee, smooth and warm and so touchable… your eyes trail down from her neck, her collarbone, to the outline of her breast rising and falling beneath the fabric... and lower.

you lean in closer and breathe her in. skin and faint vanilla perfume. warmth and softness. you think… what did you do to deserve this beautiful, stunning woman lying beside you?

your fingers slip beneath the hem of her nightgown with slow, reverent ease. you dip down beneath the swell of her ass, nudging silk up inch by inch, revealing only what you need to see.

her thighs part in her sleep as if she knows somehow, offering herself without question. and there, nestled between perfect skin: her pussy, bare and already faintly damp with early-morning heat. the kind of wet that says all you have to do is take it.

who are you to refuse?

you shift between her legs, easing her onto her back. she stirs a little, breath hitching, but you hush her with your lips on her thigh, dotting open-mouthed kisses upward until you're nestled just where you want to be.

you blow lightly against her folds, her leg twitches. then you taste.

her whole body jerks.

she wakes to the feeling of your tongue dragging slowly up her slit, then flicking exactly right at her clit with detailed precision. a sound escapes her— half gasp, half moan, broken and quiet. “yah— wh… what are you doing…?”

you flatten your tongue against her and lick up shamelessly, sloppier this time. your lips wrap around her clit and suck, just once, just enough to draw a noise from her that sounds like embarrassment wrapped in arousal. she squirms.

“good morning,” you murmur into her heat, lips curled. “just stay still…. wanted a little taste…”

her fingers find your hair, reflex only, and she exhales like she’s still trying to make sense of it. “oh jagiya...”

you hum and press your mouth back to her, circling her clit in slow, firm strokes, letting your tongue slip lower, teasing her entrance, tasting the slick already gathering there. and fuck, she’s wet… so wet that it drips down your chin when you ease two fingers inside and start curling in her just right.

her hips stutter. that beautiful nightgown is bunched up now, exposing her to everything— your mouth, the air, the sunlight slicking across her stomach. she’s panting, whining, and twitching under your tongue with every pass.

“feels good?” you ask, even though you know. “tell me it feels good, mommy…”

“yes, honey, feels very good…” she nods, whimpering. her face is flushed pink, eyes glassy, lips bitten raw from trying to stay quiet— and when you suck her clit again, fingers curling deep, her back arches beautifully. her body shakes.

“fuck… aegi… ah!” she cums with your name falling from her lips and your face buried between her thighs, thighs clamped so tight around your head that you’d gladly suffocate there.

you stay, lapping softly, gently, until her body stills. her fingers twitch in your hair, too weak to push you away.

and when she finally comes down, breathlessly dazed, she gazes down with half-lidded eyes and says, “so perfect… thank you, my sweet girl.”